#just a little reminder in case your muse needs to be more thirsty

[jonvandernoorde]

Random fact reminder: Jon is 6 feet 4 inches and 220 +. He is a large and very well built man with a bit of a dad bod. A lot of people tend to be much smaller than him.

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader is Shawn's assistant for NXT having an out-of-control night. Luckily for her, Ilja is always around to lend a helping hand and charming word where he can.

You rush into the building clutching an overflowing briefcase of files in one hand and your bag in the other. Your security badge swings violently against your chest as you weave through backstage personnel in a desperate attempt to make it to Shawn's office before he notices your absence.

You reach Shawn's office huffing and puffing like an animal. You shoulder through the door and thankfully find the room empty. "Oh thank god, I made it." You let out a shakey sigh and hurry over to your desk.

You set your stuff down and take a second to compose yourself. While you're catching your breath, the doorknob turns signaling that someone is coming in. You quickly scramble to your feet ready to greet who is surely Shawn arriving for the night.

"Oh, Ilja." Your rigid posture relaxes when the current NXT champion steps through the door. "Good evening." You sink back down into your chair with another sigh.

"Good evening, YN, my dear." Ilja flashes a debonaire smile at you as he aproaches your desk. "I saw you rushing across the loading bay earlier." He explains. "So I assumed that you could use a little pick-me-up before our night begins." He reveals a cup of hot coffee from catering in his hand.

You eye the coffee with a grateful smile and gladly take it from Ilja's hands. "Oh, thank you so much, Ilja." You thank him. "This is just what I needed after all that running I just did." You muse.

Ilja chuckles at your joke and nods. "I was happy to help, YN." He assures you. "Now! I will let you get back to work. Please do take care, my dear. And perhaps we will see one another again tonight." He bows his head at you with charming smile before turning and exiting the room.

You watch Ilja shut the door behind him and feel blush creeping up your neck. You've been hit on plenty of times by some of the NXT superstarts since you took this job as Shawn's assistant. But none of them have the charm and poetic way with words that Dragonuv does.

A few minutes later Shawn finally arrives and greets you as he comes into the room. "Evening, YN." He nods as he passes your desk.

"Evening, boss." You nod back at him, pretending to be enthralled with the various paperwork at your desk.

"YN, remind me what we've got scheduled for tonight." Shawn asks you as he makes his way around his much larger desk at the back of the room.

You nod and dig around for tonights schedule. Once you've located the paper you're looking for you rise from your seat and walk over to Shawn's desk.

"We've got two more Dusty cup matches tonight. Both Semi-finals. Roxanne Perez and Cora Jade have a match scheduled. Chase University also have a tag match against Gallus. As well as a few backstage segments and promo's being filmed." You read everything on the list before handing it to Shawn. "Oh! And you have a conferene call with Hunter in 15 minutes." You add.

"Right, conference call." Shawn sighs and glosses over the paper. "I want you out at the producers table while I'm on the call." He informs you. "Just in case something happens that would otherwise warrant my attention."

You nod and walk back over to your desk to get some work done before Shawn's conference call. "No problem, boss."

You reply to a few emails and fill out a paper or two before it comes time for Shawns conference call. Shawn gets ready to take the call and you dismiss yourself out to the producers table backstage.

"Hey, guys." You greet everyone at the table once you've arrived backstage. "Shawn is busy taking an important call so he's left me in charge in case anything goes down while he's busy." You explain as you take a seat at the table.

The others nod and everyone gets back to work. You sit and watch the action in the ring for while before you grow thirsty and decide to grab a water from the table on the other side of the room.

You are retreiving said water when Ilja happens through the room after filming a short backstage promo for the show. "YN, darling!" He greets you with a wide smile and walks over.

"Ilja! Hello again." You smile right back at him. "How are you since we last talked? Everything go well with your backstage promo?" You ask him.

"It went fine." Ilja nods. "And I'm looking forward to facing Trick Williams in the ring here in a couple of weeks." He adds.

You nod in agreement and take a sip of your water. "I'm sure it'll be a great match to watch."

"How are you?" Ilja asks you after a moment. "Shawn isn't working you too hard is he?" He lightheartedly jokes.

"Not at all." You giggle. "The job can be hard at times, yeah. But I do love my work." You assure Ilja. "Plus, I have noticed a certain someone is always nearby to make my day better." You grin at him.

Ilja chuckles and nods. "It's my pleasure, YN. Anything I can do to ensure that stunning smile graces your lovely features, my dear."

You begin to blush again and bow your head in embarassment. "Ilja." You giggle to yourself when someone from the producers table begins beckoning you back to work. "Sorry, I should get back." You sheepishly dismiss yourself.

"Of course." Ilja nods and steps out of the way. "I'd never dream of keeping you from your work. Have a wonderful rest of your night, YN." He flashes you one last frustratingly charming smile.

"You too, Ilja." You nod and hurry back off to the producer's table blushing like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush.

[velvetcloxds]

ooo you said you want a request for oliver wood? feel free to ignore this but could you write something about the reader taking care of oliver when he’s sick/injured?

(i don’t know if that’s specific enough so i’m sorry if it’s not)

STUBBORN| O.W.

Hii Jess!! Thank you so much for requesting lovely <333 I'm literally turning into an Oliver girl the more I write for him so thank you for indulging me!!

Paring: Oliver Wood x fem!reader

Word count: 1370 words

Warning: none that I can think of- it's just a little short because I'm still getting the hang of his character.

Summary: Oliver gets hurt during quidditch practice and you go to the hospital wing to take care of him.

“He asked me to make you promise that you wouldn’t be angry,” Harry explained, and you raised a brow at the boy, pulling your books against your chest as he led you towards the hospital wing.

“If he didn’t want me to be angry, he should’ve listened to me when I told him not to go to practice,” Your comment earned a slightly uncomfortable smile from Harry’s lips as he looks at his feet while walking, not sure how to react. “Sorry,” You sighed, moving your books into your bookbag as you neared the door. “Oliver tends to be stubborn when it comes to quidditch, which tends to end with me being worried, and that usually tends to end with me visiting said stubborn boy in the hospital wing with the injury of the week,” Harry nodded at the explanation, stilling next to you at the door of the hospital wing.

“Madam Pomfrey said that even though he hit his head when he fell, he doesn’t seem to have a concussion- she’s not concerned as least, said he just needs someone to stay with him for a while as she monitors him,” He smiled as you nodded. “I think he’ll be alright,” He offered optimistically.

“Thank you for coming to find me, Harry,” You returned the boy’s smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly before he leaves. You walked through the door carefully, waving at Madam Pomfrey when she spotted you walking in.

“Hello, dear,” She noted, looking up from the research book in her hand and pointing towards the sickbay, Oliver being the only person in the entirety of it and you shook your head lightly as you saw him. “He’s been asking for you,” she told you with a knowing smile, allowing you to go in to see him without any objection, smiling still as she refocused her attention on the book in her hands.

Oliver noticed your presence instantly, turning his head to see you, a tired grin lacing onto his lips as you quickly made your way to his bed, stilling at his side with furrowed brows.

“My love,” He noted softly, reaching a hand out towards you and smiling even more when your fingers entwine with his, your free hand lifting to his head where you gently moved your fingers through the short tendrils of brown.

“How’s my injured boy feeling?” You asked with a soft smile, annoyance from earlier having slipped away as soon as you saw him. “Do you have any pain?”

“I’m alright,” He began, and you allowed your eyes to travel over his body, not noticing any bandages or noticeable discomfort. “My head hurts a little, but Poppy said I could leave in time for dinner, she just wants to keep an eye on me for a few hours,” He offered meekly, fiddling with the hem of the blanket draped over him. “I’m sorry for not listening to you,” He explained, stopping his fingers as he looked at you. “You said the weather was too bad to practice and you were right, like you always are,” You smiled at the statement, lightly scratching at his sculp.

“Don’t think about that,” you said as you removed your hand from his hair long enough to place your bag on the floor, smiling when his other hand reached for your shirt to keep you close. “I’m just happy that you’re not hurt too badly,” The boy offered you a warm smile as his hand tugged at your shirt to pull you closer towards him. “What can I do for my sweet boy?” You asked him, a smile of your own as you watched his eyes jumping over your features, he shook his head. “How about some water?” You suggested to which he nodded as if coming to the sudden realization that he was in fact thirsty.

You lifted the glass of water from the bedside table, holding it for him as he took a few slips, eyes locked on you as his fingers surrounded yours around the glass, hand falling to the bed when you moved to put the glass back.

“Thank you,” He mumbled as you did so, hands somehow finding yours again as he gently scooted over on the bed, silently asking you to join him.

“You want me to hold you?” You mused; his behavior not strange at all as the boy always seemed to get a little more needy after he got himself injured. You nodded as he offered but a mere tug at your fingers as a reply. “Alright my love, I’ll hold you in second, just need to check with Madam Pomfrey if it's okay for you to sleep yet.”

Oliver wasn’t happy with the comment at all, watching with a clear frown as you walked over towards the woman, talking softly among yourselves as she assured you that Oliver was just fine, though you were going to make the boy stay awake for just a little while more, just in case.

“Can you come here now?” He asked, tone laced with impatience as he even lifted his blanket for you. You smiled over at him, carefully kicking off your shoes and moving them under the bed before taking hold of his outstretched hand and sitting down beside him, pausing before laying down.

“Does anything else hurt, Oliver?” You question softly, wanting to be sure before just clinging onto him. He shook his head, grabbing your waist to guide you into his side, a small laugh escaping your mouth as he gently forced your head down onto his chest. He released a satisfied little sigh when your hands found his shirt, smoothing the surface slightly out of habit.

“Thank you for coming,” He mumbled after a second and you twisted in his hold to look up at him, not missing the clear signs of sleep tugging at his features. “I know you had a whole lot to get done today.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here,” You note simply, lifting a hand to his chin to steal his attention from the ceiling, his eyes closing for a second as the sudden comfort you provided clouded his already tired mind. “You’ve got to stay awake for a little while more, darling,” You reminded him sweetly, his eyes finding yours in an instant, a sloppy smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“Hmm,” He hummed in acknowledgement, hearing what you’re saying yet not registering the words as he delicately pulled you closer. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Darling?” You mocked lightly, watching a slight blush creep onto the boy’s features, his sleepy state along with the adrenaline wearing off, leaving him an all but swooning mess as he holds onto the person he loves so dearly.

“I love you,” He stated in the same flustered tone, and you rested your chin on his chest to look at him. “If this is how you treat me after getting hurt, I just might just get hurt more often.”

“You couldn’t possibly get hurt more often than you already do,” You mused and traced small shapes over his shirt, mindlessly, as the sensation simply aided in lulling him into his slumber. “And you shouldn’t dare attempt it either, you’d drive me mad with worry, Oliver Wood,” The words emitted a groan from his lips, and you raised a brow.

“You worry about me?”

“Only constantly,” You confessed, his eyes opening quickly. “Your self-preservation instinct is severely lacking, darling,” You informed him, and he gave you a guilty smile, your hand leaving his chest as you moved to tuck the blanket back in around his side where it had escaped its place.

“I’ll be more careful then,” He declared. “I enjoy you taking care of me, but I don’t want you to worry,” He lifts a hand to your face, nimbly tracing a finger over your lips.

“That’s all I ask,” You replied, kissing the pad of his thumb when it stilled on your bottom lip. “Though in the meantime, I don’t mind taking care of my sweet and injured darling,” He laughed softly, shaking his head as he pulled you back to his chest, arms wrapping around you even tighter than before and you melted into the feeling completely.

MASTERLIST

[justasillybear]

Thirteen Cokes

There’s a Soda machine in Percy's dorm. Right next to the vending machine. That’s it. There’s nothing special about it. Just a standard soda machine, that normally Percy would only take notice of if he were feeling thirsty.

What makes this particular soda machine stand out isn’t the machine itself, so much as the guy sitting next to it. He’s just sat there, surrounded by a circle of Diet Coke bottles and looking pretty dejected about that fact. Percy is almost afraid to approach, just in case he’s some kind of Diet Coke demon one of the freshmen summoned.

The guy is staring at the ground, and all Percy can really see of him is the way his hands are buried in his sandy blond hair. His muscular frame was nearly folded over between his knees. He doesn’t seem aware of Percy’s staring, so he feels safe to continue watching.

There are thirteen bottles of Diet Coke.

Percy mentally added another tally in the ‘Diet Coke Demon’ Column.

Were Diet Coke demons a thing? It didn’t seem likely, but Percy wasn’t completely sure why anyone else would be sat in a circle of disappointing soda on a Tuesday night at … 11pm.

Maybe the guy was having a party? It would probably have been smarter to just buy a big bottle. And actually take the drinks back to his room. Oh well, it wasn’t Percy’s problem. Whatever IT was…

He expects the noise of the vending machine to alert the guy to his presence, and it does – he startles out of his circle of shame with a jerk, knocking over a few of the bottles. Not trapped then.

The guy glances over to where Percy is standing, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, face flushing like Percy had caught him doing something wrong.

Percy stares back, though his stare definitely has more to do with how fucking blue this guy’s eyes are. Also maybe a little to do with how attractive he was in general, looking a couple of years older than Percy and all golden and tanned. Of all the things he’d expected he hadn’t planned for the Diet Coke Demon to look like he’d walked straight out of a photoshoot. Plus, he even had a scar. Percy was always weak to those.

It’s the guy that breaks eye contact first. Visibly uncomfortable he starts collecting his bottles and Percy wonders if he should say something. Percy would later claim that it was the guy's discomfort that had made him speak up, but in truth, his decision was made for him by flushed cheeks and the guy’s blond hair sitting in disarray in the best possible way from where he’d been gripping it.

“Diet coke fan?” Percy asks with an easy grin, a packet of blue laces held in one hand, and the guy freezes, looking down at the bottles around him as if he’s just now realising how many bottles there were.

“Oh. Yeah… Kind of.” The guy mutters, and Percy finds he has to hold onto the vending machine to keep himself from swooning.

Percy tries to figure out a way to make the conversation last longer, but his brain refuses to provide any useful conversational prompts around Diet Coke – seriously, of all things? He doesn’t really think about soda that much, apparent from when he was little and decided to make everything he drank blue.

“I don’t really drink a lot of it myself. But you’re making me think I’m missing out on something.” Percy says, hoping his grin comes across as just the right level of flirty. Either the flirting hits its mark, or his timing is spot on, but the guy nearly fumbles a few of the bottles in his hands.

Percy is honestly impressed that he’s somehow managing to hold all thirteen bottles.

“It's the best.” The guy defends, and Percy realises with some disappointment that unless he can do something, the conversation is going to end there. It’s not like he can offer to help the guy carry them back to his room with them all being held snuggly in his unfairly toned arms.

“I guess I should give it a shot then?” Percy fumbles in his pocket, grateful that he hadn’t used up all his change. That would have been embarrassing.

The guy stills in surprise again, and Percy finds he likes how easily he can affect him – it’s not often that people who look like the guy does pay attention to him.

He stands there as Percy feeds his change into the machine, and Percy fights the urge to do it as slowly as possible. It’s only when the bottle tumbles down and Percy pulls it out, that he notices that the wrapper doesn’t just say ‘Coke’ on it.

“Share a Diet Coke with Luke”.

“What?” the guy exclaims, incredulously as Percy twists the bottle to show him. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Uh no… Why? Percy says. “Hey which ones did you get?” he wonders if there’d be one with his name on it in the machine. Probably not – Perseus wasn’t exactly a common name.

“Every stupid name but that one.” The guy laments, and Percy tries not to enjoy how his frustration makes his voice sound deeper.

“Wait there are only 13 other names in the world? I think someone forgot to tell my mum that” Percy muses, to which the guy sends him a completely unamused glare. Coupled with the scar it’s an impressively intimidating sight.

Huh, was he attracted to this? That’s new.

Shaking his head Percy tried to figure out how their conversation had taken its sudden sour turn. Was the guy trying to collect all of the names or something? Could he only steal the souls of people’s whose names were on his Diet Coke bottles? Or-

“Wait, is your name Luke?” Percy asks, confusion melting away into amusement at the realisation. The guy doesn't answer but his cheeks colour again and he looks away, which is enough of a yes for Percy.

“Well, why don’t… It does say to share, so…” Percy holds the bottle out, and the guy looks back thrown. He was cute when he wasn’t mad… Hot when he was though.

“I’m Percy. Don’t suppose you’ve got one of those in your stash?”

“No. And I can’t take this – it’s yours.” The guy insists.

“Really? Cos I’m pretty sure it has your name on it…” Percy shoots him a teasing wink, causing the guy to sigh. Percy can see a small smile tugging at his lips, however, so he’s going to count it as a win.

“Yeah..” he admits.

���Then you should have it”. Percy holds out the bottle, shaking it back and forth. The guy, no wait – Luke- stares down at it.

“My arms are a little full”. Luke reminds him, and Percy finds himself laughing.

“Right. Guess I’ll have to help you out then. Percy tilts his head up flirtatiously, and Luke glances away.

“Lead the way, Luke”. He says, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“Do you need any help with the rest of those” Percy asks, feeling a little rude for not offering earlier.

“Nah. I think if even one of these moves, the whole pile will go.” Luke answers, and … Fair point. Percy can’t argue with his logic.

“You sure you don’t have a Percy in there?”

Luke’s lips quirk up again into a small smile, and Percy has to fight the urge to lean over and coax it into something bigger. He can’t help but wonder how Luke would look smiling.

“Nope,” Luke answers “I do have a Poppy, though.”

“Well, guess I’ll be Poppy tonight then."

If nothing else, Percy gets to learn how Luke looks when he laughs.

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: Episode 9

This episode starts with Zhao Yunlan being a bloody good boss. I’ll talk about how the opinions of others must have affected this man’s perception of himself a little later on, but in this scene it is important to note that Zhao Yunlan is supportive, caring and loyal. Wang Zheng comes to him in tears, asking for permission to leave and see the home she had just remembered, and he not only supports her verbally, but drags his entire team on the trip with her the very next day. Sure, he has are ulterior motives, as he strongly suspects one of the Hallows must be around the same area, but I maintain that Zhao Yunlan would have insisted on going with Wang Zheng regardless.

There are complications to this trip; namely, Wang Zheng is a ghost energy being and can neither be in sunlight, nor leave the SID really. Thus, the plan to take her on the trip includes buying a doll. The implication is that Wang Zheng can be somehow placed inside it, and thus be able to move, but the details of how this is done are actually curiously hazy. I’m not sure if censorship is the reason for muddled writing, but there really is very little explanation for the ghost in a doll situation.

Guo Changcheng is tasked with securing a makeshift body for Wang Zheng, and the boy, eager to act fast, and without much to work with in terms of instructions, ends up buying this.

We can only thank the Universe for the role of Wang Zheng not being played by a blow-up doll for three episodes straight.

Zhao Yunlan instantly realises that being places inside this thing might be a little bit upsetting for his subordinate, and lashes out at Guo Changcheng with an excellent “Is the thing above your neck a urinal?” This snaps Zhu Hong out of her mirth, too; she rushes to her friend’s side to offer emotional support, and will remain there for the entire episode.

I love this blocking, in which Zhu Hong is the only one who feels comfortable approaching Wang Zheng in a situation where she is seemingly being mocked by her male colleagues, as Zhao Yunlan and Guo Changcheng look on, unable to offer a meaningful apology.

The evening prior to this Shen Wei is musing over ancient map of the region. His costume is arranged deliberately so you can see the Pendant of Pining hanging around his neck.

I am really wondering when this was shot, because it looks very out of place. The costume differs from Shen Wei’s usual attire, including chinos and an uncharacteristically ill fitting shirt. His hair looks so wrong I am wondering if this is styling, or a different haircut entirely. And, since we’re on this train of thought, his eye colour is so off I genuinely spent quite a bit of time examining the shots in order to figure out whether he’s wearing contacts. I don’t think he is, by the way, but the colour grading makes his warm syrupy-brown irises look almost olive green.

During the scene it is revealed Shen Wei’s only worry in regards to leaving the city and rushing into what could be trouble is a possibility of Zhao Yunlan encountering danger in his absence. It is easy to see that Shen Wei here firmly associates his own worth with his work as Hei Pao Shi, and his own needs with Yunlan being safe and sound. You could trace this thought process back to the mountainside conversation ten thousand years ago, and to years of loneliness and isolation that followed. While, frankly, equating self-worth with comfort of other it’s not necessarily so unusual, and neither is equating it with one’s work, Shen Wei’s disregard for his own life is still horribly upsetting.

The morning after, Zhao Yunlan with his team and Shen Wei with his students move out of Dragon City. Destination - North-west. I have to ask though, why is Shen Wei taking his students with him? I get that it’s a cover but also: he can totally just teleport where he needs to and do his stuff as Envoy, can he not? It’s fast, efficient, and can all be done during the night without arousing any suspicious.

As it happens, Shen Wei goes by car, which breaks, and causes him to instantly cross paths with Zhao Yunlan. What I like about this meeting is that we see it from an outsider perspective, as we drive into the scene with Lin Jing, Chu Shuzhi and Guo Changcheng.

“Is that Professor Shen? This must be their destiny. They keep meeting each other wherever they go.”

Zhao Yunlan confesses that he feels like Shen Wei bugged him and pops up everywhere he goes; Shen Wei counters by saying that in this case Zhao Yunlan who followed him. Zhao Yunlan can just laugh awkwardly. It’s kind of adorable how the two men just basically admit that they’re stalking each other, and are both kind of okay with that. Shen Wei then introduces the other man to his students as his good friend.

Zhao Yunlan, having already figured out that he is not likely to get any answers from Shem Wei, goes on a charm offensive with his students. I think this is the first time Shen Wei sees Zhao Yunlan using his jovial manipulation on others, and he is not particularly happy about what he is witnessing. Below are the series of facial expressions he wears every time it happens throughout the episode.

The way I read it, this could equally be jealousy, or the daunting - and incorrect - realisation that Zhao Yunlan is being like this with everything that moves. He could be even beating himself up for falling for this man’s charm now that he sees that Zhao Yunlan using the same wide smile as a tool to placate, gain trust and access information. In his mind, this is a further confirmation that he is not in any way special in Zhao Yunlan’s eyes. Again, Shen Wei’s supposition cannot be further from the truth. But you could imagine how he may have come to make to this conclusion.

In this particular case, Zhao Yunlan uses his charm to get some information out of Jiajia, and ends up hearing the direction of their expedition.

Shen Wei nervously adjusts glasses in the shot which is not even his close-up. It’s lovely, seeing how good of an actor Zhu Yilong is. Good actors don’t need to be directed to to most of the little things their characters would do, and don’t have to be told what their character quirks are.

Shen Wei very politely shuts Jiajia up when she starts talking about the earthquake, asking her to get out of the sun, despite this not being a hot day.

“Chief Zhao, you are really good at making people talk.”

As he is making this observation, he is offering Zhao Yunlan his water, because the man mentioned that he may be thirsty, and hydration is important. Should I once again be obsessing over how their fingers are touching here? Perhaps not. I am, once more, doing it anyway.

During the conversation that ensues here, Shen Wei reminds Zhao Yunlan that he was asked not to leave the city, and makes one more attempt at forcing them to part ways after the car fixing is done. Chief Zhao is having none of it. He reminds Shen Wei that no promises were given, and suggests they work together and protect each other instead. It’s interesting how their end goal is similar: they want to keep each other out of harm’s way. But for Zhao Yunlan, who works with a team, this implies sticking together. For Shen Wei, who has been alone for what could have been centuries (we are never given a timeline for when his magical coma ended), this implies being as far away from each other as possible. Many things about their relationship will change - but this one will never do.

Zhao Yunlan proceeds to charm his way into driving Shen Wei’s car. He is after all very good with people, and he’s not afraid to use this skill to keep himself near the Professor.

Next, we have intercut scenes depicting conversations in two separate cars.

Lin Jing is driving Zhu Hong, Guo Changcheng and Wang Zheng in the jeep. There, Guo Changcheng tries his darnedest to offer exceedingly moody Wang Zheng apologies and consolation, but his weak attempts to very little to lighten the young woman’s dark disposition. In the meanwhile, Zhu Hong is seething with resentment and jealousy. She notes discontentedly that Zhao Yunlan once again chose to go and spend time with Shen Wei, hypothesises on why Shen Wei is unmarried, and then goes into a long-winded rant about Zhao Yunlan being an uncaring person. Lin Jing reluctantly participates in this conversation, but he does not look very much like he cares for it.

I have mentioned in my previous recap that those around Zhao Yunlan comment on his crassness, and now I am wondering how much this creates a vicious circle for the man in question. He may have heard - from his father, from his previous romantic partners, from his colleagues - that he is a failure, a boorish, unloving and superficial man who only does things to chase clout and carnal pleasures. It is difficult to not internalise that, and Zhao Yunlan may have just grown to see this as an unshakeable truth about himself.

As for Zhu Hong’s part in this, it is easy to call someone not responding to your advances an uncaring jerk. It does not, however, necessarily make them one.

Curiously enough, the only person speaking up in defence of Zhao Yunlan here is Guo Changcheng. He notes that he considers Chief Zhao to be a nice person; despite only being with SID for a month, he is able to see good intensions behind the bristles. No doubt, this is another case of Xiao Guo being incredibly empathic.

In the other car, Zhao Yunlan is driving Shen Wei and his students. Here, we see the chief continue to crack jokes and use his bountiful charisma to find out more about their expedition. Presumably, this has been going for a while, and Shen Wei’s patience finally runs thin when Zhao Yunlan states that their research must be very important. “Thank you for the compliment”, states Shen Wei flatly, according to subtitles.

According to my dictionary however, what he actually says is, roughly, “Chef Zhao overpraised [us]” (“赵处长过奖了”), which even with my very basic comprehension of Mandarin, I can see as overly formal and clearly dismissive.

Zhao Yunlan seems to be taken aback, and a few seconds pass before he composes his features into one of the chuckles he uses as a mask: it is loud and wide, but does not quite reach his eyes, sliding off his face almost instantly. In the passenger seat, Shen Wei is slowly and deliberately readjusting his own mask.

We cut to Zhu Jiu trying to secure assistance of a whole bunch of Youchu he drags out of the cave. It goes even worse than his other plans do, with the beasts grumbling and effectively refusing to do any work whatsoever.

Zhu Jiu’s ineffectiveness is actually pretty sweet on rewatch, and I am starting to kind of appreciate Wan Naichao in this role. It’s not that I find his performance particularly good, but between the costume, the wig and the script, he does not have an awful lot to work with, and he nonetheless appears to have so much fun hamming it up to his heart’s content. He is not intimidating by any stretch of imagination, but he is surprisingly, albeit ironically, watchable. And, honestly, I would rather watch an actor being hammy and enjoying it than visibly longing for death on set.

After passing a checkpoint through a combination of Zhao Yunlan’s connections and ever-present charm, the now joint SID/DCU expedition shuffles around in cars once again. Despite their destination being allegedly twenty kilometres (or about 12.5 miles) out of town, it takes them a whole day to reach it. Who knows, maybe the Seastar’s measuring units are different.

This time, it is Lin Jing driving, with Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan having relocated to the back. We see that Zhao Yunlan has got a cold again - which could theoretically be from being so close to the hallows. He sneezes, and Shen Wei microexpressively overreacts.

Then, Zhao Yunlan unceremoniously arranges a pillow on Shen Wei’s shoulder and settles in for a nap. Does he remember napping on Shen Wei’s shoulder a few nights prior to that? Because he might do, considering how comfortable he feels with this casual close contact.

After a momentary panic, and a comment about flu meds, Shen Wei not only lets Zhao Yunlan do it, but also rearranges his pillow several times to make it more comfortable for the other man. I have no hot takes on this apart from just... those two. I love those two. How are they so adorable.

The car enters CGI fog, and promptly get stuck. To make matters worse, Lin Jing says he does not have a phone signal and asks Shen Wei to check his phone. “He does not have a mobile phone”, deadpans Zhao Yunlan before Shen Wei even opens his mouth.

Finally, Zhao Yunlan’s head vacates Shen Wei’s shoulder, and the professor leaves the car to scout the area. Jiajia tries to follow, but Zhao Yunlan dissuades her and goes after Shen Wei himself, catching up just as the other man is starting to scry the surroundings with his powers.

Zhao Yunlan enters the scene quoting poetry to highlight the beauty of their current location.

Shen Wei instantly tries to send him back: partly to continue using his dark energy, and partly, perhaps, out of genuine worry. In response Zhao Yunlan notes that Shen Wei is the only one who can order him around. This is not all done in cheek: it’s actually kind of true. Even before finding out that Shen Wei is powerful and ancient, and imposing, Zhao Yunlan is readily listening to him, and following his lead.

As a precursor to returning to the car, Zhao Yunlan takes his jacket off and drapes it over Shen Wei’s shoulders, despite the other man’s loud protestations. Again, Yunlan has got a cold, and he is visibly filling the chill air later in the scene. He has no way of knowing that this jacket will become a catalyst for his suspicions about Shen Wei’s alter ego, so there can’t be any other reason for him forcing his jacket onto the other man apart from a desire to make sure he is warm and comfortable.

Shen Wei stares at Zhao Yunlan in absolute wonder.

It is easy to believe that the idea of someone wanting to look after him is foreign no Shen Wei: we know from the text of the show that before Kunlun no one has shown him any consideration, and seeing Shen Wei now, it is not difficult to imagine, heartbreaking as it is, that no one has done it since.

Jiajia’s scream cuts through the air, interrupting the scene. As the two men take off in the direction of the sound, Shen Wei grabs Zhao Yunlan by the elbow as they run out of the shot.

When they rejoin Jiajia and Lin Jing, she girl stammers a few words about ghostly presence that she witnessed, and Lin Jing confirms her words, sharing his knowledge about ghosts seen in this area. Zhao Yunlan reprimands him for speeding feudalistic and superstitious concepts. Just remember that their HR manager literally is a semi-corporeal dead woman. This line is such a blatant and somewhat tongue-in-cheek appeasal of the censorship, that it sounds delightfully silly.

The group finally reach the remote village they were heading to. As everyone files out of the cars, they notice a strange looking crow nearby - clearly Ya Qing is checking in on them. Lin Jing proceeds to tease Xiao Guo, saying the young man in unlucky. Chu Shuzhi is looking disapprovingly at this comment, but it’s actually Zhu Hong who shuts it down. She does use this excuse to make an impolite jab at Shen Wei, noting that the misfortunes are someone else’s fault, while looking at her romantic rival from the corner of her eye.

Shen Wei graces the screen with another one of his “why does the snake woman hate me?” faces. 

It’s quite amusing that as the group starts walking towards the guesthouse, Zhao Yunlan sends his people off while he himself deliberately lingers in place, so he can walk with Shen Wei, sneaking a hand across the professor’s back. 

Just as the company enters the premises of the guesthouse, they find a human skull. Of course they do. But the reason I am including this here is to point out that Shen Wei’s reaction is to cover Jiajia’s eyes. Zhu Yilong does not do it in all of the takes used in the scene, which indicates to me that this is an in the moment acting choice. 

Shen Wei then leads his students away to give the SID a chance to investigate. While Lin Jing and Zhao Yunlan do just that, Wang Zheng sinks to her knees and starts praying to comfort spirits of her ancestors. Hilariously, this goes unnoticed for a while.

After completing some preliminary checks on the skull, Zhao Yunlan suggests they park the investigation for the night, citing that he does not want students and their teacher to get ill as the reason for doing so. Da Qing notes that this is more considerations than he shows his subordinates. I don’t think he means it, but it’s a lovely little jab at Zhao Yunlan’s unmistakable crush.

Inside the house, everyone settles in to hear Wang Zheng’s tale of the Hanga tribe. What follows is an massive exposition dump. She sets up as “some things she heard from rumours”, but considering how forlorn she is throughout this tale - and that she was praying earlier - it is pretty obvious that she is of the Hanga tribe herself.

Again, I love the blocking here. Zhu Hong is keeping her shoulder in front of Wang Zheng, protecting her from the strangers (and Shen Wei) that they are sharing the table with. Zhao Yunlan and Da Qing are watching from afar, and Chu Shizhu is perching above them on the stairs. The composition is easy on the eye, and implies that the SID men are ready to protect those at the table from all directions.

Soon, they are interrupted by a villager pretending to be a ghost, and a reluctant village head explains that the outsides may not be welcomed because there has been a murder here in the recent days. Zhao Yunlan and Zhu Hong leave to investigate the crime scene. As they do so, Zhao Yunlan catches the woman gazing upon him in adoration, and freezes uncomfortably, for a second before laughing it off.

He should really force himself to have an uncomfortable conversation with her, but he won’t do it until pushed.

In the meanwhile, Zhu Jiu is having more luck riling the actual ghosts up than he did with the Youchu. After some hesitation - and some baseless threats from our unfortunate villain - the Hanga tribesmen launch an attack against the guesthouse.

Just to note: their masks don’t look anything like the masks Wang Zheng drew. Considering that the guesthouse parts of the episode was likely to have been shot together, I don’t see any explanation for this as it pertains to production.

Chu Shuzhi and Xiao Guo leap into action to fight the ghosts - and the young man actually successfully fends one of them off. They are soon joined by Lin Jing, who leaves Shen Wei in charge of looking after the students and Wang Zheng inside the house. The ghost woman energy being asks to be let outside because she guesses correctly that the ghostly warriors are here for her, but Shen Wei refuses to let her go. The reason he states for denying her is that “Zhao Yunlan would never agree to it.” He knows that the other man would never put his crew in danger - and adopts the same attitude.

Shortly after, Zhu Hong and Zhao Yunlan arrive on the scene.

Here we see for the first time Zhao Yunlan’s painful flashback to his mother’s death, followed by him freezing with the gun in his hand. Zhu Hong does save the way by snatching the weapon away from him and firing it, but she also goes on full offensive afterwards, berating the man. Hers is not a kind response at all, and this type of a reaction is likely to be the reason Zhao Yunlan has not felt comfortable talking about his tragic past, perhaps even seeing it as something to be ashamed of.

After the ghosts disappear, Zhao Yunlan stays outside with his team, and uses the Dial in attempt to locate the other ancient item which he knows is somewhere close.

Shen Wei, on the other hand, tells Wang Zheng about the totem hidden in a cave, and asks her for any information on the matter.

His interrogation does not get him anywhere, but he does get suspicious enough to refrain him from drinking the drugged water she offers everyone present in the very next scene.

It is clear from this shot that after toasting with warm water, everyone goes to down their cups - apart from Wang Zheng and Shen Wei, who lock eyes over their cups for the second.

Having escaped her protectors in the night, Wang Zheng heard towards the cave in which Sang Zan’s spirit is kept, Zhu Jiu hot on her heals, and we witness the first of many flashbacks to her life and death.

Next up, Episode 10: Death By a Thousand Flashbacks.

—

Notes.

The next post here will actually be some thoughts on the Lost Tomb Reboot which I have spent this Easter Weekend binging. And if this post is more Zhu Yilong-centric than usual, this would also be why.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Four

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

Warnings: None

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

Tamaki followed you out of his room, keeping close to your side in case he stumbled. You were both alone in the hall, your footsteps echoing off the high stone walls. Tamaki marveled at the architecture, noting how intricately placed each stone brick was.

He'd been to various parts of the merpeople empire, witnessing incredible underwater palaces, but he was used to the simpler practice of living in caves or small houses formed from the muck on the seafloor. Tamaki loved seeing the attention to detail in each of your walls; windows perfectly spaced and letting the sunlight warmly spread across the floor. He couldn't help but wonder if all human homes looked like this, but a part of him figured they didn't.

His mind also began to question why you lived in a place like this, and had what you called a handmaiden like Brianne. Were you important in some way? Was it your father? You had mentioned him a few times. Maybe you happened to be from a very rich family. Tamaki felt a slight lump form in his throat. Of course, he had to fall for someone who seemed to be more and more out of his league with every new piece of information he found out about her.

Just what was a princess? Tamaki felt like he might have heard the term before, maybe in some kind of legend or story, but he couldn't remember where. The not-knowing nagged at the back of his brain, but he was determined not to ask in case he insulted you.

You led him through a big room with a large table, guiding him towards a door in the wall, which was nearly hidden against the cool tones of stone. The door swung open, and Tamaki found himself looking down at a flight of steps leading down into a warmly lit room.

You showed him the rail, letting him cling to it as you assisted in making your way down the small number of steps. Miraculously, Tamaki survived, and he felt very proud of himself for not tumbling down the stone stairs on his first try at them.

You confidently strode around a bend and excitedly led him towards a burly man who was washing dishes in the sink with his back turned to the two of you.

"Gabriel!" you called out. "There's someone I'd like you to meet!"

The man turned. He looked to be about in his forties and sported a brunet mustache, his eyes twinkling when he caught sight of Tamaki.

You pulled him closer to the new man, beaming excitedly. "Tamaki, this is Gabriel, our cook. He's very very sweet. I'm sure you'll also be interested to hear that he was the one who rescued you off the beach."

"Please tell me you didn't go there on purpose? The water there is dangerous." Gabriel's voice was gruff yet somehow smooth, words reverberating in his chest. Tamaki allowed the sound to resonate in his mind for a minute, savoring how it sounded so different from the women he'd heard before. It vaguely reminded him of the lower pitches of whale song he'd hear when the large mammals would migrate north in the spring and summer; when the waters would warm and the currents would slow.

He barely had time to nod before you jumped in at his silence. "He's a castaway. Apparently his boat went down out at sea and he happened to wash onto our shores." You turned and grinned at him. "You're not a complete idiot after all."

"I knew I didn't recognize him," Gabriel said, looking into Tamaki's face and making him go back to being generally uncomfortable. "It's rare for me not to know a fellow islander. I see pretty much everyone when I go off to market. Feeling better, son?"

He placed the back of his large hand over Tamaki's forehead, making him elicit a small squeak as he shied away. His touch was warm and gentle, but such factors were canceled at the fact Tamaki had never met him before.

"Jumpy thing, aren't ya?" Gabriel straightened, apology quickly flashing in his eyes. "Still shook up? You were in pretty rough condition. Must have taken a blow to the head on one of those rocks. But you weren't too bloodied up, thankfully. I've seen so much worse come of those that venture into the cold, dark sea . . . ." His voice trailed off, gazing at nothing as it looked as though his mind traveled to places unseen or heard.

You placed a hand on his solid arm, catching his eyes with yours as you gently pulled him out of his daze. "Hey," you softly crooned.

"Sorry, Princess. Got . . . distracted." He abruptly straightened and shook his head. "I'm glad we found you as soon as we did. Any longer and you woulda frozen to death. You really have (Y/N) to thank, here, for finding you."

You bashfully lowered your gaze and shrugged, toeing the stone floor. "Without you, I would never have been able to get him all the way back here."

"A team effort, then." Gabriel slid back into a grin and winked at Tamaki. "You best get plenty of rest. Did you enjoy the stew?"

Tamaki nodded. "Thank you," he said, trying to keep his voice above a mumble. "It was really good."

Gabriel squinted at him, suddenly confused. "What?"

Tamaki frowned and looked back up at him, opening his mouth to repeat himself before remembering the necklace that still hung around his neck under his shirt.

You'll be able to speak to the first human that touches you, so make sure it's her.

This must be what Nejire meant. Gabriel couldn't understand him. Tamaki briefly wondered what the man had heard come from his mouth, hoping it wasn't too embarrassing before you jumped in again.

"You ate it so fast!" you giggled. "Which reminds me. Gabe, could you get him another cup of water? I think he's still thirsty."

"Of course." Your friend pulled another metal cup from the sink behind him, giving it an extra rinse in the water of the basin before filling it with clean water from a pump. He handed it to Tamaki who gratefully took it and began to take small sips from the mug, enjoying the newfound taste of fresh water. "So where are you from?"

Tamaki faltered mid-sip, mind starting to spin. Should he lie? He didn't know what to say. How should he keep his secret? Gabriel couldn't understand a word he said but you could. Even if he told the truth, the name of his empire would be very difficult to translate. He was sure even you would have a hard time figuring out what he meant.

Tamaki just tried for a mildly distressed hum and shrugged his shoulders, going back to swallowing some water.

You and Gabriel shared a glance that went unnoticed by Tamaki's eyes, hidden from view behind the rim of his cup. "Were you . . . a pirate?" you spoke up, trying to work out his history.

Pirates . . . . The term was vaguely familiar to him. Maybe he'd seen it in one of the children's' story scrolls at the library. He hesitantly shook his head, trying to stay hidden behind his drink.

"Just a sailor that lived out at sea?" Gabriel asked, his voice suspicious yet equally hesitant.

Tamaki decided this would be the best one to roll with, finally peeking out and nodding his head.

"Sure are quiet . . . ." the man softly muttered, lightly stroking his chin as he studied Tamaki's face. "Are you mute or something?"

Mute?

"He was talking just fine before," you said, resting a gentle hand on Tamaki's shoulder. "Do you need to go lie down again? It's been a long day."

Tamaki shook his head. He wanted to spend time with you. Just maybe you alone, without other people who might hear whatever nonsense came out of his enchanted mouth.

"He staying here?" Gabriel asked, relaxing his stance only fractionally.

"Yeah, in one of the guest chambers. We're waiting for the ships to the mainland to come back."

"That'll be some time," the man mused. "Oh well. If you ever need anything, you can always ask." This was directed at Tamaki. "And if you ever try anything funny—" a steely glint arose in Gabriel's eyes, making the boy gulp, "—you'll have to deal with me."

You smirked and caught Tamaki's gaze, mockingly giving him a sharp nod. Everyone in the room could agree that Gabriel was not a man to be messed with.

"Thank you, Gabe," you said, nudging Tamaki so he would know it was time to start moving again.

"No problem, Princess." Gabriel turned and went back to his work. He lifted something out of the basin that caught Tamaki's eye. It was a sponge. What was he doing with one of those?

Tamaki glanced at you, but before he could even think to try to subtly whisper something in your ear so Gabriel couldn't hear him, you pulled him back to the stairs. After a short moment of collecting his legs, Tamaki soon found that climbing stairs was much easier than going down them. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself for reaching the top of the landing.

"Yay!" you congratulated him when you were both standing together at the top. "You're really getting the hang of things!"

Tamaki blushed and smiled at the floor, nearly melting in the glow of your smile. How were you always so vibrant? You tapped him on the shoulder, making him look up to see that you had raised up a hand, level with your shoulder.

"High five?" you asked, giving your palm a little shake.

Tamaki hesitantly lifted his hand to press against yours, confused.

You giggled. "Do you not high five out at sea?"

"No," Tamaki answered truthfully. "What is it?"

You demonstrated on yourself, clapping one of your hands to the awaiting other. "Like that, except this hand is supposed to be yours."

You held out your hand again in the same manner, and Tamaki gently slapped his against yours.

"See, you learned something new today!" you beamed.

Actually, Tamaki thought, I've learned so many things today. I can barely keep up.

"Come on." You started walking and Tamaki hurried to keep up. "There are still some people I want you to meet."

The two of you didn't speak for a few moments, traveling together in companionable silence.

Finally, you broke it, making Tamaki look up at your pensive face. "Why didn't you want to talk with Gabe?" you asked, steps echoing off the walls of the cool hallway.

"I, um—" Tamaki tried to think of a good answer. He finally alighted on a half-truth. What could be better? "I get . . . really nervous around people and it's like I can't function," he admitted, keeping his eyes cast down. "It's mostly just around strangers I don't know very well."

"You're not like that around me," you said. "You talk just fine."

"Yeah, but you're just so—" Tamaki stopped himself before he could say any more. He didn't want to go too fast. He wanted your affections to be as much your choice as his were for you.

"I'm so what?"

"Uh, nice, I guess."

"Gabriel is really nice." Your voice remained soft and nonaccusatory. "He may look a little intimidating, but once you get to know him, he's a real sweetie."

Tamaki silently reeled at the idea he might have accidentally insulted your friend. "I didn't mean he wasn't! It's just that . . . I feel different when I'm around you." He dared look into your face.

Your expression was slightly flustered, yet you had undeniably been flattered by his words. Who was this boy? You had to wonder. Why was he so . . . strange?

The two of you remained quiet on your way through the halls. You had Tamaki meet a few more people who worked at your father's chateau before leading him outside. You gleefully threw off your flats, letting your toes sink into the plush grass beneath them.

Still barefoot, Tamaki followed after you, discovering the new sensation of sun-warmed grass tickling his ankles. He watched as you twirled around in the light, skirts flowing around your skilled, graceful legs. Someday, Tamaki promised himself, he would be able to have that much control over his new limbs. He imagined himself joining you, bouncing around almost as weightlessly as if you were underwater.

You came back and pulled him over to a small patch of flowers. Tamaki had never seen anything like them, and he hesitantly reached out a hand to brush the tips of his fingers over their soft petals.

A small creature burst into flight near his hands, making Tamaki jump back. It didn't look like a bird, and yet, its wings carried its tiny body effortlessly through the air. It was a light yellow, starkly showing up against the green grass behind it. It alighted on Tamaki's arm, making him freeze in apprehension, watching as little antennae brushed against the cloth of his sleeve.

"What is it?" Tamaki scarcely dared to breathe.

You laughed aloud behind him, carefully settling down beside him so as not to frighten it away. "That's a butterfly."

"Woah."

The two of you observed it wander over his appendage until a light breeze prompted it to flutter off.

You noticed Tamaki's face as he watched the insect leave. His eyes practically had stars in them as he looked after it, and you couldn't help but appreciate for the first time just how blue they were. At first, you had thought they were just kind of black, but now, in the setting sun, you could make out each sapphire hue. They reminded you of the ocean, and intrigued you just as much.

He really was handsome. You admired the way his blue-black hair fell between his eyes, following it with your own eyes to the little tufts that spiked up in the back. His ears poked out of the falling locks, and you noticed with curiosity that they were somewhat pointed. The urge to reach up and touch them struck you, but you fought it, stilling your hand so it remained in the grass. You went back to his eyes, and they met yours, heat suddenly growing on both your cheeks.

"So, uh," you began, finally reaching up your hand to place on the back of your neck. "Were you born on the sea or something?"

"Why do you ask?"

You smiled sheepishly, dropping your gaze to the dirt. "I guess you're just so . . . intrigued with all this. It's like you look at the world with so much wonder as though you've never seen anything like it before."

"I haven't."

You looked back up to him. "You've never been on land?"

Tamaki blew out his cheeks, trying to decide yet again how to answer. "Not really."

Your eyes widened. "How—?"

Tamaki abruptly stood. "I-I can't tell you. I want to, but now isn't a good time." His eyes contained fear and maybe regret, wincing as your face fell into confusion.

"Are you in trouble or something?" you asked. "If there's someone bothering you, I am capable of placing you under my protection—"

"I-it's not like that." Tamaki hated the way his voice shook. He wanted to tell you who he was, what he was, but now just wasn't the time.

When?

"I promise," he said, shakily offering his hand to you. "I will tell you."

You looked at his hand dubiously. "I have my safety to worry for as well," you told him, glancing from his expecting fingers and back to his eyes. "Tamaki, I know I've just met you, but I want to be able to call you my friend."

His heart melted at your words. Friendship was a start. Could you like him as a friend already? "You have my honor," he said, and you finally placed your hand in his. "I will never do anything to hurt you."

You nodded, now standing. "When can you tell me?" you asked, dropping his hand. "I want to know more about you."

He chewed his lip, already missing the moment of contact you had briefly shared. "You consider me your friend?" he asked, hesitantly.

"I would like to."

"Tomorrow then. I would really like to get to know you too."

"May I ask what the purpose is of keeping this secret?"

Tamaki winced. "I don't want you to think differently of me."

You gently placed your hand on his shoulder. "I won't judge you. I'm not like that. As long as you're a genuinely good person, I don't care where you grew up."

Tamaki almost spilled his guts out to you right then and there, but a voice interrupted him in his tracks.

"Princess! There you are!" Brianne stepped out of the doorway. "You should do some studying before dinner. You know your father wants you to keep up with that."

You smiled, giving a light eye roll. "Coming."

"Hurry up," she called over her shoulder as she turned to go back inside. "You've already missed quite some time running around with this boy all afternoon."

Tamaki blushed, embarrassed at her reference to him.

"Wanna come with me?" you asked Tamaki. "You can keep me company."

"Sure."

"Can you read?"

"Yes."

...

It turned out, Tamaki couldn't read.

At least, not whatever script you showed him. He was used to a different, swirling type of print the merpeople used to write.

The two of you had settled in your study, and you had handed him a small stack of books for him to skim through while you did some work of your own, an ink pen in hand, occasionally jotting something down onto a sheet of parchment.

Tamaki thumbed through the bound pages, amazed at what was possible in the dry air. He tried to make sense of some of the words before him, but he remained clueless.

He found some drawings featured in one of the books, this one appeared to be on the creature from earlier you had called a butterfly. He delicately traced his hand over the ink, studying the anatomy of the insect's wings and small body pictured before him. Every few pages there was another drawing, and he would look it over. He hadn't even thought to wonder about how many different species there were. It struck him that you and he were like that; different species, but so tantalizingly similar all the same.

Finally Brianne called you down for dinner and the two of you ate alone together at the big table. You made conversation on what you had been studying, talking a bit about human history. Tamaki was deeply intrigued, hanging on every word and occasionally interrupting you with a question.

When you were both done, you walked him back toward his room. "Would you like a bath?" you asked him. "I can ask Brianne to draw you one. It might feel nice."

"Uh . . . sure, if it's not too much trouble." Tamaki had no idea what it was that you were talking about, but he was curious all the same.

"Not at all." You beamed up at him.

If a week ago someone had told Tamaki that he would be on the receiving end of so many of your beautiful smiles in one day, he'd have thought they'd spent too much time in the sun. You were so beautiful to him, and he wanted nothing more than to stay by your side forever.

Forever . . . that was a long time. And he now only had twenty-nine days left. He hoped he could come up with something soon. Maybe Mirio would help him again. You would wait for him, right? After you found out he wasn't a human?

You let him in his room and ducked out again to go find your handmaiden. Tamaki stood alone in his room, glancing toward the dark window. In the dim candlelight of the chamber, he saw something in the glass. He took a few steps closer and saw . . . himself.

He had seen his reflection before. One of his fellow townspeople had found a human mirror in a sunken shipwreck. Everyone had gathered around, curiously peering into the reflective glass. The window before him didn't work so well, but he was still able to make out just how much he'd changed.

His cheeks looked rosier and less pale than they had once been. His pupils were smaller, eyes not as big. His nose protruded from his face more, but not in an obnoxious way. Gills no longer lined his neck, and the small frills behind his ears were missing, although he had figured out both of these facts much before seeing it for himself. His teeth were flat like yours and his lips had filled out slightly, no longer just barely visible outside his mouth. He looked perfectly human, although he noticed his ears were still pointy, but they had always been that way. Even among the merpeople, they had been a little odd.

He heard his door click and swing open, making him turn around and see Brianne standing in the doorway.

"Come along, now," she said. "It was Tamaki, right?"

He nodded, following her into the hall. She led him into a room that held a large white basin, filled nearly to the brim with steaming water.

"Do you want me to take your clothes?" Brianne asked from behind him.

Tamaki thought for a moment, trying to decide how to respond. He cringed, remembering that if he tried to speak, she wouldn't understand him. He finally nodded, looking down to his shirt. Now to get it off . . . .

His fingers fumbled with the buttons, only made more shaky with Brianne standing there, watching him. A small part of him wished that it could be you instead. Not for any impure reason. He simply felt more comfortable around you. Adding to the fact he couldn't answer her or even begin to explain why, he couldn't help but feel horribly awkward around your friend.

He finally worked out three buttons and attempted to slide it off over his head. Now holding it, he handed it off to Brianne, who took it and draped it over her arm. Tamaki then started with the tie around his waist, finding it much easier to undo and tugging his pants down around his ankles.

Averting her eyes, Brianne took them from him as well and swiftly whisked out of the room, shutting the door tight behind her. Tamaki stepped over the rim, letting his toe dip into the water. He found it comfortably warm and fully submerged his foot, repeating the action with the other leg. He slid down, the warm water unfamiliarly soothing his muscles.

It was a strange sensation to be wet again. The idea of taking off the necklace and letting his tail come back floated hazily into his mind, but he decided against it. He vividly remembered the excruciating pain of transforming between species and decided that taking it off would only happen when absolutely necessary. Besides, what if Brianne walked in and saw? That would be a horrible way to be outed.

Now came the question of what he was supposed to do.

Tamaki shifted down, letting his head sink underwater. He briefly wondered how long he could hold his breath, now that he only had a slightly larger pair of lungs. The temperature made his eyes sting so he shut them tight, letting a dark silence press around him.

He already missed you. He wanted to keep talking to you. Your conversation at dinner had been so enrapturing to him, his mind couldn't help but go back to what you had said. It amazed him that two species could live on the same planet together for so long and yet have such contrasting, separate histories from each other.

He came back up, wiping some of the water from his eyes and glancing around. He noticed that on the rim of the tub sat a sponge. The second one he'd seen today.

He picked it up, finding it squishier than he'd expected. What were you doing with so many of them?

Hundreds of years ago, merpeople had seen male dolphins exchange sponges with female dolphins as a mating gift. It had become tradition to do the same; a male merman presenting a sea sponge to a mermaid he was interested in.

Tamaki blushed, thinking of you. How would you react to him giving it to you? Would it mean anything if you already knew of having it in this room?

How different could she be from the mermaids back home? Mirio's voice sounded in his mind.

From what he'd seen today, very, but maybe this could be something you had in common with him.

He toyed with it, squeezing it between his fingers. Maybe you would appreciate the gesture. He set it back on the rim of the tub, sinking back down into the water.

He let his mind wander, briefly stressing over things he would have to do in the future. The most pressing one was telling you about what he was. Tamaki spent the next several minutes rehearsing in his brain, trying to picture your reactions to various confessions he came up with. He scarcely noticed the water cooling around him as time passed.

Eventually, Brianne opened the door, preceded by a rapid knock before swinging it open. She laid out a different shirt, a pair of pants, and another rectangular strip of cloth before leaving again. Tamaki stood, trying to shake off as much water as he could, planting his feet on the cool stone below. With his skin still glistening with water, it was difficult for Tamaki to pull on his clothes, but he eventually managed. Pacing back over to the tub, Tamaki swiped the sponge that balanced delicately on the rim. He shoved it into his pants pocket and stepped out into the hallway where a waiting Brianne stood silently by the door. She gave his still-dripping hair an odd look but, all the same, led him back to his room.

He flopped into his bed, tiredness finally beginning to settle within his bones. In the dying light of a candle, Tamaki drifted off to sleep, hoping against all things that he would still be here by tomorrow night.

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

[Part Five]

Taglist (If you ever want to be added or removed, you can always message me): 

@inumorph​ @engel-hageshii​ @milkteeboba​ @pansexual-potterhead​ @ure-a-sunflower​ @xeina​ @kingtamakimurder​ @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Chapter 1

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist 

Art Hoe™️

There’s nothing in the world that can beat Saturday morning. A time to sleep in and be lazy with ease in your heart that you don’t have to do anything for the rest of the day.

Bucky leaned back in the office chair (one that wasn’t his) and kicked up his feet onto a neatly organized desk (not his either). His steel-blue eyes were fixated on the screen of his phone with his brows knitted in concentration. Saturday mornings were Mario Kart mornings and Bucky was never one to be less than first place.

Sam walked into the office with his eyes glued to the papers in his hand. He looks up to find someone he’s not supposed to find.

“Bucky, what the hell are you doing?” He asked, annoyed. Bucky’s presence was enough to annoy Sam.

“Shush, I’m in the middle of something,“ he hushed him. Sam rolled his eyes with a groan.

"Where’s the boss?”

“Didn’t I just tell you shut it, Wilson?” Bucky said again, dropping back into third place.

“Are you playing that stupid kids game again?”

“It’s rated E for everyone, punk,” he growled at him. He smiles a little when his Princess Daisy bombs Bowser.

Sam crosses his arms. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he reminded.

“Alright, mom, what do you want?” Bucky said, his eyes finally pried away from the game.

“First get your dirty shoes off the desk and second, where is Steve?” He asked. “I’ve got some info on the delivery tonight.”

Bucky clicks his tongue but listens to him. “Tell me, Sam, what is today?”

Sam was puzzled. “It’s Saturday,” he replies.

“It’s Saturday morning,” he corrected.

“Okay, and?” he asked, growing peeved.

“Saturday mornings are when Steve goes to meet his muse.”

”The Love Letter by Jean Honore Fragonard" you read off the pamphlet. You look up at the painting with a lopsided frown.

This was what you came all the way from Brooklyn to see? A picture of a lady with a bouquet in her hand and a small smile on her lips. At least the dog was cute but not enough for wasting a perfectly good Saturday morning on.

You didn’t understand where the appeal came from. For this painting or any other for that matter. Yeah, they were pretty but that’s it. You didn’t feel the overwhelming emotion that some felt when they looked at a masterpiece. Never have you ever been moved to tears because of painted canvas. But then again, nothing ever moved you to tears.

You groaned at the picture. “Stupid art professor,” you grumbled with your arms crossed.

You were visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art for an art history project. Your eccentric professor had given an assignment in which you had to find three pieces of artwork and write how you felt about it. She gave a list of the ones to check out first and you decided to just follow it.

You weren’t an art buff or even remotely interested in the subject. It was just a gen ed class you needed to check off and you were hating every minute of it. An hour on the subway just to look at something you could’ve googled in a second. At least you got in for free.

You huffed at the girl. “What’s so great about you anyway?”

“What’s not great about her?” a voice chimed in from your side.

You turn to find a man standing next to you, admiring the masterpiece and overhearing your conversation with the painted lady. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Looking like a blue-eyed, blond-haired Adonis that walked out of one of those thirsty cologne ads. His face was beautiful. Well-defined with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The ocean blue of his eyes matching the light complexion of his skin.

He was the kind of guy that made you stop dead in your tracks. He must’ve gotten used to it by now. The natural sudden pause one made as he walked by or the way women must’ve bitten their lower lips at him in desire. He seemed like the type of guy who knew he was good-looking but didn’t pay it any mind. The type of man who would remain modest and humble.

He was dressed casually in a tan Hilfiger wool sweater, a pair of black trousers, and casual sneakers. Oooo rich guy, you thought as you raised a brow at his question to you.

“Pardon?” you asked.

He turns to you with a charming, crooked smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but hear you talking about Marie like that.”

“Marie?” you asked slowly.

“Yeah, that’s her name well according to some scholars,” Steve replied turning fully towards you. “Marie Emilie Boucher. She was the daughter of Fragonard’s teacher.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly, not really knowing what to say. Great, you just crossed paths with an art geek.

“So why don’t you like it?” he asked. His inquisitive eyes bore into your soul, searching for an answer.

You turned to the painting and shrugged. “It’s just another painting of a lady. One that’s not naked, thankfully. I just don’t see the appeal. It’s just an average painting.”

“An average painting?” he asked, completely shocked by your answer. You take a step away from him just in case he got hostile. “How could you say that?” he exclaimed. “There’s so much depth! So much mystery! So many amazing techniques hidden in it!”

“Chill, dude,” you tried to calm him down with your hands in front of you.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment. “I guess some people just have weak eyes.”

“My eyes are perfectly fine,” you retorted, offended by the strange man’s reaction. Warning: hot guy is a jerk. But aren’t they all?

“Then how can’t you see it?” he asked, pointing at Marie. “I mean the brush strokes, the usage of lighting and the coloring. It’s glorious. Absolutely magnificent.”

“Okay, so he painted her dress blue instead of pink, big woop.”

“It’s more than just that,” he shakes his head. “It’s the realism in it. Don’t you feel the mystery around her?”

“Sure,” you replied, not wanting him to freak out again. He chuckles at your blase attitude but goes on to speak. He’d never miss a chance to talk art.

“Look at her face,” he asks and you do as he says. “The small smile on her lips and the sneaky look in her eye showing off that she knows something we don’t. She has something we don’t have. A love letter from her admirer. A fiance? A husband? A secret affair? We don’t know and all we can infer is from the way she teases us with the name on the letter. Her expression is unmistakably coy and it only brings about the question. What could have been written in that letter? Words of deep adoration? Maybe one of a longing desire? Her behavior displays a bit of misconduct considering its time period.”

“You seem like a very nosy person,” you noted earning a chuckle from him.

“I just enjoy art,” he stated.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” you said, scribbling down some of the stuff he said. It’s not plagiarism if you’re paraphrasing.

“Are you copying down what I said?” he asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you admitted shamelessly, “you don’t mind right?” Who cared if he minded you were going to use it anyway.

“Nah, it’s fine, but it’ll cost you,” he said with a mischievous smirk. You turned to him with a raised brow. “How about you share a cup of coffee with me, beautiful?”

You groaned inwardly. Of course, the hot guy had to make a move. It was hard for them not to. It was in their blood. “Sorry,” you said, sticking your book back into your bag and taking out your pamphlet. “I’m here to work not lounge around. So I’ll see ya.” You turned on your heel and waved him goodbye.

He followed right behind with a smile on his face. “Come on, princess, that ain’t fair,” his Brooklyn accent showing just a little. “Take my words and then give me the boot.”

“You were the one yapping away,” you retorted, your strides getting wider to get away from him. It didn’t take many steps for him to reach you. “You gotta be careful with your words or anything for that matter. How do you think Rosalind Franklin felt when she got robbed by Watson and Crick?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Steve said, sidestepping you, “but you’re from Brooklyn, aren’t you? I can tell from the way you talk.”

You stop in your path when he stands in front of you. “You know the name of the chick in that painting, but you don’t know who Rosalind Franklin is? The founder of the DNA structure?”

“Well, that’s good for her,” Steve replied, not paying much mind to it to ask his own question. “You from Brooklyn?”

You pout with a deep exhale from the nose. “That’s none of your business,” you said pushing past him with your shoulder hitting his arm.

He follows you anyway, it’d take more than a shoulder bump to get the mob boss off your trail. But he guessed you didn’t know who he really was.

“Listen, jerkface,” you hiss at him when you catch him still following you. “I’ll call security if you don’t stop following me.”

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles with the corners of his eyes crinkling, the shine in his eyes unbearably alluring. “It’s gonna take more than simple security to get me away from you.”

TAGLIST:  @rootcrop​ @scuzmunkie​ 

[latibulx]

Gaeul - anemone, angelica, begonia, chamomile, edelweiss, gladiolus, heliotrope, holly, hydrangea, lavender, lotus, pansy, peony, poppy, rhododendron, rose, salvia, sunflower, willow

❥     𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ] ㅡ closed ㅡ @jaebbongi

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ? where does that world view come from   (   what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

In spite of what happened to her family and the people she has lost over the course of the years, Gaeul remains an unbelievable optimistic kind of girl and sees the world as something beautiful and filled with wonders and magic that goes beyond her understanding. There’s always so much more to experience and discover and learn and she thinks that it beats every bad happening in her life. Even though it wasn’t the case a couple of years ago after the loss of her parents, she’s definitely thankful that she is alive and that she is able to experience so much in her daily life. 

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?

The world inspires her, and not only the world around her but also the worlds from the books she reads. Imaginary worlds, real worlds, all of them inspire her - but also the persons she meets whether they’re alive or fictional. For Gaeul, they all are a source of inspiration. As for her motivation, it’s also the world, and the wish to share her views of the many worlds in her head with others. 

begonia :   how cautious is your muse ?   are they prone to noticing red flags ,   or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ?   why or why not ?  

Gaeul isn’t one to be cautious at all. She’s far too curious and adventurous for her own good and that can obviously lead her to risky situations. I’d like to say that the older she gets, the less adventurous she is, but that’s not exactly true because she is thirsty for knowledge and for such experiences that take her breath away. 

( I believe she’ll have different kind of experiences once she becomes a mother, though! )

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?   are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?  

Painful experiences teach her as much as they haunt her.  She’ll reflect on what happened and use it for the future but she’s also likely to think about it more times than necessary, overthink and get doubts and insecurities and fears from it. That’s why she distracts herself by reading so many books, because at least it quiets her mind for a little while.

edelweiss :   what was the bravest moment in your muse’s life ?  are they known to be courageous from then on ?  

The bravest moment in Gaeul’s life was when she had to keep on living and being a bright young girl after her little brother passed away. Being by her parents’ side even though they were broken beyond repair, reminding them that she was still here, that they still had a daughter to care for, it was when she had to be the bravest. And her courage has definitely stemmed from that moment on, especially when she has then moved into her grandparents’ house for her parents weren’t able to take care of her anymore. Keeping this experience in the back of her mind at all times, but also the fact that there were hands to hold her when she needed it was kept her going during her difficult teenage years. 

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

I’ll go with the first time she has stepped into the library that will then become her workplace. She was in her first year of middle school and for some reason she was unable to make friends easily. Perhaps it was because she looked closed off, or because she was always the nose in a big book, but she spent most of her time on her own whether it was at shcool or during her free time; she didn’t mind much because it felt comfortable like this. Gaeul didn’t want to be a burden for her grandparents, and living near Myungdeong she was often wandering around the market and the busy streets; until one day she just happened to see a couple of wooden doors, almost concealed in between two large buildings. Curious as ever, she clutched the book she had been reading against her chest and went to open the door: that’s when her life changed for the better, because it was an old, gorgeous library like the ones you can imagine in fantasy books/movies. Immediately, she marvelled at the wooden shelves, at the old scent that surrounded her and for the first time in a long, long time, a wide smile pulled at her mouth and lightened up her whole face. Almost as if she had finally found her real home.

heliotrope :   does your muse believe in soulmates ?

Absolutely! Whether it’s platonic or romantic soulmates, she absolutely loves the idea that some people are just meant to be in each other’s life. It’s a heartwarming thought and she also believes that someone can have several soulmates in their life. There’s no limitations when it comes to soulmates, at least in Gaeul’s mind. 

<holly :   how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ?  are they aware of it ?   do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?  

She’s pretty intuitive but isn’t completely aware of it. She does follow her guts a lot of times but sometimes will think that it’s simply her curiosity acting or just out of sheer luck. 

hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?  are they prone to being misunderstood ?

Gaeul talks a lot and thinks communication is important, especially because she always has a lot going on in her mind and she wants to make sure that she is on the same page as the person she’s talking with. She tries not to let misunderstandings happen but sometimes it’s just inevitable and all she can do is try to communicate better to ease both heart and mind. 

lavender :   how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ?  once their trust is broken ,   how might one go about mending it ?  

It’s very easy to gain Gaeul’s trust because she’s someone who likes people, who likes to hear and share stories. She can be incredibly friendly and always tries to remain optimistic and have a positive mindset no matter what happensㅡ and if that trust happens to be broken at some point, they honestly just have to talk it out to mend it. Gaeul will just accept it without a second thought because if the person made an effort then it means that they regret it and that they want to do better. There’s no reason to reject them in that case. 

lotus :   has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

She hasn’t felt like she was reborn but she isn’t against the idea, it’s actually a thought that she finds to be lovely. And she’s had her fresh start, after the loss of her parents, Gaeul went to a trip around the world to find herself, to heal her broken heart, and to meet new people. Not only was it healing but it was also eye-opening about how many people were constantly struggling on a daily basis but also trying their best no matter what. It gave her the courage to come back to Seoul and to stop running away from the pain she had attempted to ignore all this time. 

pansy :   does your muse often reflect on their own actions ?   do they ever think a lot about the past ,   and what they could have done differently ?

It isn’t rare for Gaeul to be caught in the past. Her memories, her past actions and experiences are often what drives her to keep moving forward. She knows that it’s pointless to think of what ifs, but she simply can’t help herself. The past has built her into the woman that she is in the present and she cannot stop herself from looking back from often than necessary. And the past, for Gaeul, can be as far as when she was a little girl, but also just the past day. 

peony :   what would a   ‘  happy life  ’   look like in your muse’s eyes ?

A happy life for Gaeul would be a life where she has her own family (probably several kids coughs) and they’re living in a house close to the countryside but also close enough to the city so she can go to work. Ideally, she’d be a writer with some published books since it’s a longtime dream she has yet to make come true, but what truly matters to her is to have a loving family of her own. 

poppy :   what comforts your muse ?

Books, her cats, writing, a rainy day, being at the library, Teddy.

rhododendron :   is your muse receptive to warnings   &   advice given by others ?

Yes, quite. She believes that if she is warned about something or if someone is given her some advice then it must be for a reason and it would be rude to ignore them and not take their words into account. It doesn’t mean that she’ll entirely follow them, but she’ll still keep them in mind. 

rose :   how much does your muse value other people ?   do they wish to have many friends ,   lovers ,   and/or associates ?   are they an easy person to love ?

Gaeul does value other people, especially if they become a part of her life. And she is also pretty aware that every life, whether she knows them or not, is important on this planet. However, she doesn’t seek to have many people in her life, she’s happy with just having a small group of friends, with having just one lover. The number of people she has in her life doesn’t define who she is as a person, after all. Regardless, she is easy to love, she is lovable and endearing, and she also loves easily despite the risks of getting hurt in the way. 

salvia :   is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ?  how do they express that possessiveness ,   or lack thereof ?

I can’t say that she is very possessive. She knows that people come and go, and the same applies to things. However, it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care or that she doesn’t feel even a bit of possessiveness because she does. I’d say she’d express it in subtle ways, in ways she wouldn’t be even aware of: if it’s over someone, I can see it in questions she’d ask the other, in expressing some of her concerns and probably in being a bit more touchy than usual without overstepping her boundaries. 

sunflower :   what brings your muse the most joy in life ?  

Being alive. Feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. Reading a book on her couch or in her bed and having her cat curled up on her lap or close to her. Loving someone who returns her feelings. 

willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?

Not well, obviously as it led her to leave everything behind to go on a trip around the world by herself. She tends to close off and retreat into where she feels the safest, aka in the world of books. And it might take a while before she comes out of it feeling better. 

[nahalism]

Songs that make you want to experience love (of any kind) or remind you of it??

u just opened pandoras box.. like.. u think ur ready, but ur not ready. and i cant apologise for what im about to do because what song isnt a love song?.. you have proposed an existential question & for that i refuse to keep this uncompletable task concise. hold on 2 ur toupee, clutch ur peals 🤧

verdena // valvonauta

the nerves // hanging on the telephone

dionne warwick // walk on by

luther vandross // anyone who had a heart

stevie wonder // all in love is fair, never dreamed youd leave in summer, lately, superwoman (where were you when i needed you)

ms lauryn hill // i gotta find peace of mind

lenny williams // cause i love you

donny hathaway // ill love you more than you ever know (& the amy winehouse cover of this)

eva cassidy, autumn leaves

nina simone // you dont know what love is, just say i love him, you can have him, everything must change

chet baker // my funny valentine, almost blue, the autumn leaves

the police // roxanne

amy winehouse // take the box, wake up alone, you sent me flying, stronger than me

nat king cole // nature boy, smile, the very thought of you

etta james // id rather go blind

gladys knight & the pipps // midnight train to georgia

al green // how can you mend a broken heart, lets stay together

janis joplin // maybe

anita baker // angel

simply red // holding back the years, you make me feel brand new

luther vandross // a house is not a home

deniece williams //  free, silly 

boyz II men // i cant make you love me

michel’le // something in my heart

patrice rushen // remind me

toni braxton // another sad love song, breathe again

tamar braxton // all the way home, love and war

the delfonics // lala means i love you, hey love

bobby womack // if you think your lonely now

rick james ft teena marie // fire and desire

the gap band // yearning for your love

jahiem // ghetto love, could it be

mariah carey // anytime you need a friend, my all

tamia // stuck with me, so into you

shai // if i ever

new edition // can you stand the rain, if it isnt love

ATL // make it up with love

blackstreet // dont leave me

bow wow // let me hold you, my baby

jhene aiko // feel like a man, wait no more, my mine, you vs them

twenty88 // 2 minute warning

corrine bailey rae // the whole of her self titled album

yebba // my mind

neyo // do you, part of the list

erykah badu // green eyes, other side of the game, next lifetime, in love with you, out my mind just in time

keyshia cole // send from heaven, love, i should have cheated, trust and believe

whitney houston // i learned from the best, run to you, saving all my love, im your baby tonight

michael jackson // lady in my life, break of dawn, butterlies, baby be mine, keep it in the closet, who is it, give in to me, rock with you .. etc etc etc

abba // lay all your love on me

seal // kiss from a rose

patrick swayze // shes like the wind

phil collins // in the air tonight

the police // roxanne

tracy chapman // fast car, baby can i hold you

james blunt // 1973

chris isaak // wicked game

fleetwood mac // rihannon, dreams janis ian // at 17

googoo dolls // iris (duh)

oasis // wonderwall (duhh x2)

dido // white flag

joni mitchell // both sides now, a case of you

randy crawford // almaz, one day ill fly away

little dragon // never never, twice

lana del rey // video games, blue jeans

london grammar // hey i, wasting my young years

ellie goulding // starry eyes (acoustic), guns & horses (acoustic)

avril lavigne // when your gone, im with you

paramore // misguided ghosts, decode

hiatus kaiyote // the lung

jorja smith // wandering romance, goodbyes

kelsey lu // dreams

kelela // all the way down, turn to dust, enough, better, take me apart

king krule // slush puppy, many more

SiR ft masego // ooh nah nah

fka twigs // papi pacify

steve lacy // dark red

iamddb // more

abra // pride

sonder x brent faiyaz // lovely

pharoah sanders // harvest time

james blake // wilhelm scream

portico quartet // the visitor

kokoroko // ti de

funkadelic // maggot brain, ill stay

collard // everglade

feng suave // honey theres no time, by the poolside

mac demarco // still beating, my kind of woman, let her go, let my baby stay, one more love song

connan mockasin // do i make you feel shy

gas dapperton // prune, you talk funny

blood orange // saint, out of your league, best to you, never good enough

majid jordan // her, u, king city, warm

japanese breakfast // triple 7, the woman that loves you, everybody wants to love you

frank ocean // higgs *or just insert his whole discog*

daniel ceasar // japanese denim

xavier omar // speculate

sza // pretty little birds, caretaker ft dram, babylon, warm winds, 2 am, passport

jeremih // british headboards, worthy ft. jhene aiko, raindrops, & obvs bday sex

j cole // runaway, shes mine pt1 & 2

travis scott // astrothunder

drake // come winter, cameras/good ones go, doing it wrong, east district... anything ending in interlude .. *again, insert practically any of his songs*

tory lanez // 1 call

partynextdoor // tbh, wus good/curious, west district, rendezvous, wednesday night interlude, persian rugs, spiteful, cant let the summer pass, her way, thirsty, muse, the right way

serani // do you good (!!!)

miguel // girl with the dragon tattoo, pussy is mine

vybz kartel & gaza slim // anything a anything

movado // when yuh feel lonely

nicki minaj // save me, i lied, autobiography

tokio hotel // monsoon

my chemical romance // the ghost of you, helena

nickelback // how you remind me & someday

whilst she sleeps // seven hills, our courage our cancer

pierce the veil // stained glass eyes and colourful tears, i dont care if your contageous, im low on gas and you need a life jacket, southern constellations, the new national anthem, bulls in the bronx, caraphernalia, disasterology

(& lol dont roast me but id b lying if i didnt include dem)

vanessa ann hugends // say ok :) 

lmnt // open your eyes

edward mccain // ill be

jesse mccartney // im leavin (lol dont roast me)

lindsay lohan freaky friday songz (?) // the ultimate, take me away

[aquaticalay]

Centurion .Chapter Four.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she doesn't know about herself— something she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD

Warning/s for the chapter: nothing, just Bucky and the reader trespassing lol

Word count: 2.1k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :)))  I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist

(Taglist will be reblogged)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'FOR SOMETHING GREATER.' IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

Bucky woke you up at three in the morning. He told you that you're going to go to a place that might hold some information about Petrov. You agreed reluctantly, wiping the yawning tears from your eyes.

After you got dressed in leggings and denim jacket, and him in a black zip-up hoodie and jeans, he gave you a gun. It was a black Avengers-issued semi-automatic gun similar to a Sig Sauer P320, only more powerful and practical. Small with a built-in silencer, it was obviously made for concealed carry, possibly for espionage purposes. He handed a black inside-the-waistband holster that came with it. He eyed you carefully, "There's seven bullets in there," he informed, then his voice became low, "For emergencies only."

He was serious about it, and you understood. To be honest, you weren't planning on using it either. Not unless you really have to.

You nodded, tucking it under your waist band, the holster pressed tight against your skin. You would expect red marks there when you take it off.

You watch him do the same with his own gun, a similar model to the one he gave you, slightly bigger in size and darker in color. He opened the door, his steps heavy and motioned his chin to the door, a gesture to tell you that you should go out. 

When you went out, the hallway was lit by dim lights, illuminating only what needed to be seen. Buciy followed you out. He closed the door behind him so gently, that you can only hear a tiny click from the wooden frame.

"Friday," Bucky called the AI in the hallway, "If anyone asks, we're going on an early morning dri—"

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Sam asked groggily from the other end of the hall. He had a nearly empty glass of water in his hand, and he was wearing shorts and a shirt. You assumed he was thirsty and decided to go to the kitchen for water.

"We're going to Brooklyn Bridge," you manage to say quickly, before the silence became too suspicious. "To see the sunrise," you finished, a convincing tone in your voice.

Sam was still half asleep. You could tell by how he walked clumsily and how his eyes fluttered. You hoped this would give you an advantage. After a few tense seconds, he eventually let out a chuckle. "Alright," he shrugged lightheartedly, "You two lovebirds have fun."

You threw a smile and 'thank you' at Sam before hastily going the other way, pulling an impressed Bucky with you.

The two of you descended to the basement, slipping into a car. 

The car Bucky got was an Audi R8, sleek black like a stallion in the night, perfect to blend into the dark.

Driving out of the facility and into the streets of New York, Bucky glanced at you, a cheeky grin on his face. "Nice save back there," he told you.

Weakly, you let out a laugh. You sank back to the car seat, making yourself comfortable. You ignored his statement, taking it as playful, but pointless banter. “Where are we going, anyway?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I know where Nick Fury lived in New York. I know he’s not home either,” he told you, his metal arm gripping the wheel tightly, his eyes focused on the long, urban road ahead. There were only a few cars aside from you. So few, in fact, that you could count them with your fingers. It was an exceptionally empty early morning for New York standards.

“And?” You urged him to elaborate his point.

“He might have a file or two on his computer on Petrov,” Bucky confirmed. You looked at him curiously. “And would you like to tell me how you know?”

“Before he went to… wherever he is now, he told Sam and I about his computer servers on old SHIELD data, and since Hydra infiltrated SHIELD…”

You nodded. “Hydra and SHIELD are the same,” you concluded his sentence. You were mildly surprised that he had thought about the plan this far.

You watched the long city roads stretch out in front of you, dim city lamps like lighting bugs fluttering above you. It would've been romantic, given different circumstances. 

Bucky didn’t turn up the music, but you didn’t mind the soothing silence. In fact, you quite liked it. You liked the way the low hum of the engine and Bucky’s breathing was the only thing you could hear. It felt peaceful. You haven’t been able to feel serene in a while, and this was a nice change.

As you looked out the window, admiring the architecture of the concrete jungle, you felt Bucky’s hand snake into yours. You let him grip you palm and he took it up, pressing a firm kiss on the back of your hand. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he did that for reassurance. For comfort, for both you and him.

When you looked at him, you notice that he was wearing a silver chain around his neck. You recognized it. It was your dogtags. Knowing that he was wearing you sent a feeling of warmth in your chest. You had his, too, inside your bag in the avengers facility. You need to remind yourself to wear it next time.

"You know," Bucky muttered, eyes glinting with an idea, "What you said about going to the Brooklyn Bridge for sunrise…"

"What about that, hm?" You hummed in response. His hand was still holding yours, laid on his lap.

"We should actually do that some time," he suggested.

"I like the sound of that," you said. You rub small circles on his hand, giving him a feeling of tranquility. Bucky smiled, but it's too small for you to notice.

Before you knew it, he pulled up on a neighborhood in Newark, New Jersey. He parked a few blocks from the actual destination, just in case. The two of you walked out and on the concrete floor in silence, the early morning breeze stinging your skin, prickling like frost bites.

You had put on a baseball hat, and he threw his hood over his head carelessly and just enough to cover his face, just in case there were unsuspecting cameras. The two of you had put on gloves, too, to avoid fingerprint identification if anything went wrong. Oh god, you wish nothing will go wrong.

Nick Fury’s apartment was on Clinton Hill, an old building and in the third floor, a three minute walk from where Bucky parked. It was old, red bricks as the interior. The front door was dark wood, mosaics decorating the small window, making it not as bland as it would be without it. The staircase was the same color as the door, squeaking as you stepped on it. 

You’d say you were breaking in, but Bucky had a key, presumably the one Fury gave him, which lead you to ask yourself, is it really breaking in when the owner of the apartment gave you the key?

He slipped the rusted copper key in the hole and turned it. The door creaked open, and you slipped in.

Neither Bucky nor you wanted to turn on the lights. You didn't want to deal with the risk of dealing with suspicious civilians. Instead, you fished your phone from your back pocket and turned on the flashlight.

Dimly lit, his home was a simple studio too small to be a functional and strategic safehouse. As you looked around more you realized that you'd rather not describe it with the word 'home.' It felt cold. There was no personal touch whatsoever, nothing to make it feel homey. It was outdated by about thirty years, old kitchen and filing cabinets pinned against the peeling drywall. There wasn’t even a bed, just a dusty red couch that looked straight out of a retirement home. The only thing that was remotely modern was a windows computer on a small desk from the 2000s.

Like an instinct, you knew what to do. You let Bucky hold your phone for light, and you sat in front of the computer. Bucky followed behind you, watching it load slowly. You tried to crack the password, covered fingers dancing on the keyboard.

You didn’t know why, but your regular bypass technique did not work.

Of course it didn’t work, you thought to yourself, This is Nick Fury. He must have layers over layers of security and protection, even over this outdated computer.

Bucky cursed under his breath when he realized what was going on. Without a great hacker, getting inside this computer would take forever. You would have brought Scott Lang with you if you could. But that would mean your little secret wouldn't exclusively be yours anymore. It's not that you didn't trust him, it's just that you weren't willing to risk it.

Bucky started pacing around the room, a sign of distress. Suddenly, he noticed a creak on the floor. It was quiet, but both his and your supersoldier hearing could identify the sound. You glanced at him, knowing what he’s going to do. He kneeled down, taking the loose floorboard out. It was a small piece of wood, tiny, even, but what he saw under the hardwood floor was satisfactory. 

You saw him pull a roll of paper from under, and he passed it to you quickly, flicking it in the air and into your palm.

You unrolled it, and sure enough, it contained the binary code of the password, and translating it wouldn’t be too hard, since a custom software on your phone allowed you to do it quickly.

You entered the password, and you were in.

Bucky quickly inserted the USB. You started searching for Project Mercy, but frustratingly, nothing showed up. 

“Try searching ‘Michail Petrov,’” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper. You did as you were told, and hit search. A few profiles appeared on the screen. 

Three people were named Michail Petrov in Hydra.

Bucky took a closer look on the screen, and on their photos. His eyes were suddenly fixed on the third photo in the list, jaw tightening at the sight of him. He pointed at the profile, then growled under his breath, “That’s him.”

You clicked on it, and windows of his history opened, flashing on the bright screen. Looking through it carefully, you tried to find a few keywords: lab, project, bioengineering.

As you scanned the files, your eyes found one word that you’d been searching.

Petrov graduated from Moscow State University in 1975 with a PhD in genetics. He began his bioengineering project by making lab-grown animals in his lab in Kaunas, Lithuania. His project was shut down in 1994, for ethical reasons.

Ethical reasons, you repeated in your head. If anything on here is about Project Mercy, it would be this one.

You searched the files for Kaunsas, Lithuania, and found the full address to his last known lab there.

You quickly moved that file and a few other important ones in the USB. 

As you ejected it, Bucky placed the roll of paper back in the floorboard. It looked untouched. 

You nodded as a sign that you were done, and you can go now.

Just as you and Bucky were going out the door, you heard footsteps from upstairs. Bucky held you back from the exit, waiting for the footsteps to pass. You knew, as long as you were quiet, everything would go according to plan. You and Bucky froze, waiting for whoever was out there to get out of the way.

As the footsteps neared, you heart dropped.

You phone suddenly rang, bells echoing throughout the room. Diego Miller’s name on your screen.

Damn SEAL protocol. The protocol that didn’t allow you to put your phone on silent, the one you unconsciously brought into your habit. You managed to turn it off just a second layer, but it was too late. You heard the voice of a woman call, “Hello? Is anyone in there?” 

There a was a fake courage laced in the woman's voice. She knew no one was supposed to be there, that it was an empty apartment. She knew the bells didn't belong there.

She carefully put down her basket of laundry and knocked on the door. Once, then twice. Nobody answered.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it open to find it unlocked. Looking around the empty apartment, she was both relieved and confused that she found nothing.

You and Bucky already jumped off the three-story building and disappeared into the dark.

The only evidence you left was an open window, curtains blowing in the morning breeze.

-

[starswornoaths]

Blind Faith

Uthengentle had not seen Ser Aymeric and his sister interact up until that point. When he did, he realized Estinien had perfectly valid reasons for keeping the details of their plan a secret.

Or:

have some 3.0 Uthen perspective on how thirsty the Lord Commander is and is bad at hiding. Spoilers for “Alphinaud’s Way,” use of in game dialogue! Cross posted on AO3

At first, it had struck Uthengentle as strange that Estinien had asked them to have care of how much of their Dravanian entreating plan to divulge to Ser Aymeric; with the Lord Commander being one of the people they were more trusting of in the city, he couldn’t fathom why someone who was allegedly an old friend of his would ask them to reconsider their disclosure.

Then Uthengentle realized how poorly he hid his interest in Serella, and realized that it was because Ser Aymeric was a bad liar.

A theory all but confirmed in Uthengentle’s eyes when they met with Sers Aymeric and Lucia to plead their case for him to blindly champion their cause. Admittedly, the Lord Commander’s skepticism was healthy, though the fact that he was considering their proposal at all struck Uthengentle as profound, given how little they had given him to work with.

“I would gladly lend my support to any endeavor that would spare the blood of my countrymen— but I would know more of the cause you would have me champion. Will you not share aught of this mysterious undertaking?”

“Know that I have offered my lance to aid in this endeavor.” Estinien was the first to speak. “I cannot claim that its success is assured, but our actions should serve to delay Nidhogg’s advance at the very least. Which is more than can be said for the ill-conceived counterattack advocated by the See’s more vocal crusaders. They offer glorious death, but little hope of victory.”

“Aye…” The Lord Commander agreed. “Their proposal does not inspire confidence. Our resources should rightly be spent shoring up the city’s defenses.”

“You’ve taken great risk to help us in our hour of need time and again.” Serella spoke up as Ser Aymeric had been silently considering their words. He looked up at her, surprise writ plain on his face. “Though we— though I am asking you to have further faith in us...I’m also asking that we may prove that your trust is well placed.”

“I have not once doubted my faith— certainly not in you.” Ser Aymeric replied softly.

“That’s as maybe, but I have pledged myself as Ishgard’s shield.” She drew herself to her full height. “So let me help you protect her, in any way I can.”

The way the Lord Commander marveled at her in quiet awe for just a moment longer than what could be considered friendly, certainly longer than could be considered distantly professional, made Uthengentle nearly want to clear his throat to remind Ser Aymeric that there were four other people in the room standing right there.

“Hmm. The Azure Dragoon and the Warrior of Light, sallying forth together to face the dread wyrm, Nidhogg…” He mused to himself. Then, he bowed his head and closed his eyes a moment to think. “I must admit,  the mere thought of it does much to dispel my misgivings.” In a clear, authoritative tone, he affirmed, “Go, then— carry out your plan. I will do what I can for you within the Holy See.

Frankly stunned that it was that easy to get approval for how little information they gave him, Uthengentle fell into step beside his sister as they all filed out of the Seat of the Lord Commander.

[mrslittletall]

Title: The Crazy Cat Vicar (Chapter 2) Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Laurence the first Vicar, Original female character (Laurence' secretary Florence) Word Count: 3.136 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20989841/chapters/50184428 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/188280567214/title-the-crazy-cat-vicar-chapter-1

Summary: The first day with Mick continues. Florence and Laurence set everything up what a cat needs. Laurence has to learn that a kitten can be rather demanding.

(Author's note: Who is ready for more pure kitten fluff? Also, this story is set during Laurence' whole time as the Vicar. In this early chapters, he just established the church and is 23 years old, thus Florence' comment about his age.)

Laurence had put Mick down on the floor of his office and then hooked himself up to the old blood to heal the rather burning scratches. He had sat down at his desk, waiting for the old blood to pour into his system and observed Mick, who did his best to undo the “damage” of the bath.

It felt ridiculous that the kitten tried to dry himself with a rather wet tongue, but it worked against all odds and soon the fur of Mick puffed up, making him looking even more like he had the worst case of bed hair than when Laurence had found him at the graveyard. Mick took in several seemingly impossible poses, making Laurence question if there even were bones in cats, although he had seen enough pictures in books of their skeleton. Though, once Mick took a pose that was one leg lifted straight up in the air and his head trying to reach his stomach, he managed to fall over and oh, did this look adorable. Laurence couldn't help but chuckle at this sight.

Just when Mick had managed to stand up again, shaking his head, the handle of the door turned and opened. Mick hissed and ran over to the couch, squeezing himself under it. Laurence was impressed that the kitten managed to fit under there. Once again he asked himself if cats maybe didn't possess bones after all.

The door opened completely and Florence tumbled in, arms full of items. “Excuse me, Vicar, but I simply wasn't able to knock like this.”, she said.

“Oh, it's fine.”, Laurence said. “I am more impressed that you were able to carry all this stuff on your own.”

“I have three kids, Vicar, you are getting used to carry a copious amount of stuff when you have a large family.”, Florence said, shuffling over to the couch to set the items down. “Phew, this was heavy.”, she said, turning around, narrowing her eyes: “Are you hooked up on the old blood again, your grace?”

“...Mick was rather adamant about not taking a bath.”, Laurence said, raising his arm to show the scratches which already had started to heal.

“Oh, so you have given it a name.”, Florence stated. “Where is the little guy btw?”

“Below the couch.”, Laurence answered, observing the healing process of his wounds. He could unhook himself from the ministration once the wounds were completely closed.

“Oh, there you are, dear.”, he heard Florence say and then a hiss. “Oh dear, I don't want to hurt you, just checking if you are fine.”

“Leave him be, he needs to adjust to the new situation.”, Laurence said, reciting the things he remembered from all the cat books he had read. Once his wounds had closed up completely, he took a handkerchief and pulled the needle, pressing the handkerchief on the punctuation wound. With the old blood still in his veins it would heal quickly, but he wanted to avoid bruising.

“What have you brought for Mick?”, Laurence asked once he was sure that he could stand up.

“Bowls for food and water, a litter box, a scratching post, a cat bed, some toys and a bit of cat food.”, Florence said, pointing at each item when she spoke. “Do you want to keep the kitten here, in your office? Or would your room be the better choice? Or should we make a complete separate room for it?”, she queried.

“I was planning to keep him here so that he could get used to the new situation first.”, Laurence said.

“I guess you will sleep in here then instead of your room, I better fetch you some new blankets soon.”, Florence paused for a brief moment, staring at the old blankets draped over the couch. “Although, you practically already live in here.”

Laurence could feel how his cheeks flashed a certain kind of red: “I... I just have so much to do. Instructing people on the blood ministrations... Making contact with the aristocrats for donations... Having to explain all of this to Cainhurst...” His face darkened at the mention of the last place.

“I know, that is a big deal for someone your age.”, Florence hummed.

“What is that about to mean?”, Laurence narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, I just tried to say that normally people of your age aren't willing to take in such an important position.”, she chirped. “Now, shall we make sure that Mick feels safe, secure and cared for here?”

That calmed Laurence down and the next hour or so was spend making sure that everything found a proper place. While Laurence had never been able to have a pet cat on his own, he was full about book knowledge about them and was particularly demanding about the placement of the cat furniture.

“The litter box should be put into the most quiet corner, so he can use it in peace... don't put it behind the door, that is the same as someone coming in when you are using the bathroom.”, he said as he scanned the room for a proper position and found one in a corner between the wall and a bookshelf.

“I would like for him to be able to climb up high, cats really like being up high, put the scratching post near the shelf, but make sure that he can't kick down books.”, he commented as Florence was running back and forth trying to find the perfect spot so that the kitten wouldn't be able to knock down any books.

“I don't really know if he accepts a cat bed, I heard most cats just prefer simple boxes, why don't we rummage around in the storages for some boxes?”, he mused as he weighed the cat bed in his hands, asking himself if it had been a waste of money.

Halfway through their work Mick dared to come out from under the couch, sneaking behind Laurence on silent toes, puffing himself up as he turned and spotted him. “Look who came out of hiding.”, he said, kneeled down and gave the kitten a soft pet. He could sense Florence smiling at the both of them.

They finished their work under the watchful eyes of Mick who took a few seconds to sniff at every new item that got put down or rearranged. After the both of them were done, Laurence flopped on the couch. “I am not used to this physical work anymore...”, he groaned.

“Shall I get you something to drink?”, Florence asked and when Laurence shook his head, her eyes fell onto the bowls. “I guess we should fill them up. I am going to get some water for him.”

She bend down to pick up the bowl. When she stood up again, she said: “I brought some cans of cat food, so that you can feed him.”

“I doubt that he is hungry, I have fed him a whole bag of dried fish treats before I brought him here.”, Laurence answered, eyes on Mick. The kitten was still investigating the room, sniffing at his bookshelf.

“That explains why you were so late. All your appointments have been rescheduled for tomorrow, so I would prefer it if you wouldn't pick up any more cats until then.”, Florence said with a joking tone in her voice before she left the room.

Although Laurence didn't plan on feeding Mick right away, he got curious about the canned food and walked to his desk, where it had been placed. “Food made out of chicken...”, he read aloud. “Hm, I wonder why they don't make it out of mice? After all, that is what cats are mostly dieting on...”, he mused to himself. Mick was in the process of climbing into his bookshelf, finding a particular cozy spot on top of his books and laid down.

“Maybe you will be a good hunter one day.”, he said. “Such big buildings as churches always attract mice.”

As Laurence still was in the process of remembering how much food a kitten should get daily and already was planning on searching out the cat books later, Florence opened up the door and came in with a fresh bowl of water.

“Now the little one won't get thirsty.”, she said and put it down.

“Hmmm... though I read that a lot of cats have trouble getting motivated to drink...”, Laurence commented.

“That is easy to take care off, just rub the water in his fur and he will drink it when he cleans himself.”, Florence said. Laurence had to admit that this indeed would work. After all, he had seen Mick lick himself dry after the unwanted bath. “Where is the dear?”, Florence wanted to know and Laurence pointed at the book shelf. Florence went over to smile and coo at the kitten, which only earned her a hiss.

“I think you are scaring him, Florence.”, Laurence chuckled. Florence was the complete opposite of scary with her warm smile and motherly demeanour. Maybe the kitten was scared because of her rather large frame.

“This situation is still new for him.”, Florence said. “By the way, you have decided quickly on a name. May I ask why you choose this particular one?”

“It was easy. He reminded me of Micolash.”, Laurence said without hesitating a single second. After a brief moment he added: “You know, my friend from By... the school.” That was close, Laurence almost had tainted his tongue with the name of this place.

“The young man with the messy black hair and the eye bags? Yes, indeed, they have a striking similarity.”, Florence said, eyes still on Mick. After a few more minutes of silence and Mick making no moves to come closer, she stood up. “Is there anything more you need or can I return to my usual duties now?”

“Hm, you could get me some cat books from the library, but that has time until later. I need to continue with my work too.”, he gestured at all the letters on his desk, stood up from the couch and walked over to the table.

“But other than this, you are dismissed, thank you, Flo...” Laurence got interrupted as he felt a sudden force tug on his holy shawl. “What the...?”

As he turned his head around he saw that Mick hung from it, clawing deeply into the shawl, apparently having come out of his hiding place. “Hey, that isn't to play with!”, he complained, grabbing his shawl and fruitlessly trying to free it from Mick's grip. All it did was making Mick even more relentlessly clawing at his shawl. “Stop, you are ripping it all up!”, Laurence yelled.

“Oh dear.”, Florence chuckled and walked over to the couch while Laurence still tried to save his shawl. When she came back, she had a toy in hand, a stick with added feathers. “Mick, look what I have.”, she cooed. Once the kitten saw the toy, it got big eyes, released itself from the shawl (and ripped a good part out of it much to Laurence' disdain) to chase after the feathers.

“One last request then... fix my shawl please.”, Laurence said as he pulled it from around his neck to hand to Florence. His shawl was different from the usual church set shawls which he were based on this particular one. It had been the last gift his late mother had given him and he had cherished it for ten years now.

“Of course.”, Florence said and came over, switching the shawl in Laurence' hands with the feather toy. “I'll bring it later to you with the books you requested. For now, I will take my leave. Ask for me if you need my assistance. And I suggest you play with Mick, so that he doesn't rip apart another one of your possessions.”

“Yes, thank you, Florence.”, Laurence said, sitting down at his desk and swaying the toy in front of Mick. The kitten did some impressive jumps trying to chase it and once he had securely managed to claw and bite into it, Laurence released the toy, watching as Mick brought his “prey” into safety.

“Well then, back to work.”, Laurence said and picked up a fountain pen.

The afternoon was spent between writing letters establishing relationships between the Healing Church and the aristocrats of the town and entertaining Mick whenever he brought the feather toy and laid it down as Laurence' feet.

At first, Laurence simply had ignored him, too caught up in his work to notice the kitten but when the mews had gotten more and more demanding, he had watched down with furrowed brows, ready to throw out whatever made this annoying noises, when he saw Mick sitting there, looking at him with wide eyes. At this sight, Laurence' anger got blown away in an instant and so when the evening came he hadn't managed to finish all the letters.

In fact, Laurence only managed to notice it was evening by the own growl of his stomach. “Time to eat something...”, he muttered to himself as his gaze fell on the food bowl. “Oh, I guess you must be hungry again too...”

He stared at the canned food on his desk and proceeded to open one of the cans. He still couldn't remember how much he should give Mick, but had the feeling that one spoon would be the right amount of food. That is when he realized, that he didn't had a spoon in his office. He doubted that Florence had forgotten to bring one, she probably hadn't been able to carry one of top of all the stuff she had brought.

Oh well, he wanted to get something to eat anyway, he could request a spoon from the kitchen while he was at it.

Ten minutes later Laurence returned with a spoon and a ham sandwich to his office. He preferred to eat food he could hold in his right hand so he would be able to continue writing with his left. He put the plate with the sandwich down and used the spoon to fill the bowl for Mick. As soon as he was finished, he turned around to see...

“Mick no, that is my sandwich!” Laurence rushed over to pick Mick up, who mewed in protest. Laurence carried Mick to the bowl and sat him down in front of it. “Here, that is your food.”, he said and went back to his desk, picking up his fountain pen with the left and the sandwich with the right to continue working.

Laurence had peace for about five minutes and then the head of a scrubby black kitten showed itself from the other site of the desk and it slowly climbed on it. Laurence didn't pay him much attention, but when he noticed that his head very much followed the the movements of the sandwich and the moment a tiny little paw reached out when he put it back on the plate...

“Mick, you just had your meal not even ten minutes ago!”, Laurence scolded, spending the rest of his meal having to make sure that Mick didn't steal the ham from his sandwich and barely getting any work done. As soon as he had finished eating, he laid his pen down, maybe he should finish this tomorrow. He could instruct Florence to prepare the finished letters already.

Thinking about Florence, he heard a knock and her voice asking for permission to enter. As Laurence approved, she came in, smiling as she saw Mick sitting on the desk. “In good company, I see, Vicar.”, she said and placed a selection of books on his desk. Then she produced his fixed shawl out of her pockets. “As good as new.”, she smiled.

“You are a treasure, Florence.”, Laurence said as he put the shawl around his neck again. He felt far more complete with it on. “Can you prepare the finished letters so that they can get send off tomorrow?”

“Of course.”, Florence said and picked up the stack of dried up letters. “I am intending to go home after this if you are fine with it, so I wanted to wish you a good night and we see each other tomorrow.”

“Yes, that is fine. Have a good night, Florence. Until tomorrow.”, Laurence said and picked up one of the books. The rest of the evening should be spend with reading.

The rest of the evening was only half spend with reading though, because Mick kept kicking around the various toys Florence had brought and Laurence couldn't help but watching. It was too cute. Sometimes Mick would kick the toy towards his direction and chase after them when he threw them away. Naturally, he barely got through one book before tiredness overcame him and he made himself ready for bed.

As Laurence made himself comfortable on the couch, he looked at Mick and wondered where the kitten would decide to sleep. Maybe it really would decide to sleep in the cat bed. But he also could decide to sleep in the book shelf. Or under the couch. Laurence probably would find out the next day. It didn't take long for sleep to overtake Laurence, it had been a long day.

When Laurence awoke, it was still dark. He needed a moment to orientate himself. When he realized he was sleeping in the couch of his office he relaxed a bit, asking himself why he woke. That was easily answered when he felt the need to use the bathroom. Well, this was easily taken care off. As he wanted to pull himself up to stand up, Laurence felt the warm, furry added weight on his chest.

Apparently, Mick had decided that Laurence himself was the right sleeping place. Laurence felt himself smile at this sight and he extended his hand to pet the kitten. Mick made a surprised “mrrm” sound and then started to purr.

Laurence had the feeling that he could have stayed like this the whole night and he continued to sleepily pet Mick until his body reminded him of his needs. “I am sorry, Mick.”, he muttered as he picked up the sleepy kitten from his chest to put on the couch and rushed out of the room to take care of his business.

When he returned, Mick was still on the couch. Laurence laid back down, closed his eyes and shortly after felt how Mick took his position on his chest back. With a smile Laurence gave him a lost stroke before drifting back to sleep. (Author's note: So, I am not the only one who feels awfully sorry for waking her cats when she needs the bathroom in the night, right?! Just why do they decide to sleep on me anyway xD) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/188884037944/title-the-crazy-cat-vicar-chapter-3

[vennilavee]

Every Step, Every Way Part II

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to you a little worse for wear and you do your best.... part II

Warnings: Cursing, kissing, adult situations, anxiety 

Word Count: 5k+ lol oops

A/N: Read part 1 HERE Listen to Every Step Every Way by Majid Jordan!! Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading :)

You really contemplated calling out of work today. But you were above pulling the “My boyfriend’s an Avenger, I don’t care what you say” card. The temptation to just stay wrapped up in their warm little cocoon was too great. With a sigh, you rubbed your tired eyes and gingerly lifted Bucky’s arm off of you. He had managed to roll off of you and tuck you into his side in his sleep.

Your eyes burned from fatigue, goosebumps rose on your skin from the cold and you groaned when you saw the sun beginning to rise. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.

By the time you got ready, made herself look like a person, made some coffee, ate something quick and left food for Bucky, you had 10 minutes to spare. Your under eye circles weren’t that noticeable under your concealer, and you had even opted for contacts rather than glasses. Despite getting only a few hours of sleep the night before, you felt a bead of sunshine in her heart that threatened to spill out- Bucky was finally home. You wrote a quick note for him and stuck it on the fridge, hoping that he would sleep for several more hours before making his way out of your bed.

“You don’t look as shitty as I thought you would,” Arden said bluntly as you both walked into the hospital together.

“Thanks, Arden,” You rolled your eyes, stuffing yours hands into your jacket’s pockets.

“I’m just saying, your man came home after weeks last night and you look well rested than I thought you would. I thought you wouldn’t be able to walk-” Arden smirked at her suggestively.

“I hate you,” You laughed with your friend and co-resident, “He came home at 3 AM, I just fed him and put him to bed. No time for mind-blowing sex on the agenda, unfortunately.”

“Maybe you’ll get laid tonight. God knows you need it. You’ve been a nightmare to the interns,” Arden held the entrance to the ED open for you and they walked towards their lockers.

“Have I really?” You said vaguely, “I haven’t been that bad…”

“They’re calling you Ultron,” Arden grinned, punching your shoulder.

“Seriously? They’re calling me the equivalent of a robot who was hellbent on killing almost everyone on the planet? I don’t know if I should be flattered or terrified,” You chugged your coffee quickly and tucked your pens and pocket notebook into your scrubs.

“I should go extra hard on them just for that,” You muttered.

“Whatever you say, Chief,” Arden rolled her eyes, “Shall we go?”

You nodded and made your way to the nurse’s station, ready for the 12-hour shift ahead of you.

The universe seemed to be working on her side today- nothing terribly crazy had been coming through the ED doors. Just the standard cases of pneumonia, sore throats, a chicken pox case, two car accidents, and an accidental stabbing. All, in all an average day. The day had gone quite quickly- in between keeping up your reputation of Ultron with the interns, treating patients, and finding time to eat lunch with Arden, you found herself energized.

You texted Bucky quickly when you had some down time: Hi, work is busy but I miss you already, see you soon with a few heart emojis. You couldn’t wait to leave the hospital and sit in the comfort of the Tower with your friends and a glass of wine (or seven).

Bucky smiled to himself when he saw your note on the fridge: “Morning, boo. Food and water is in the fridge, you better eat!!! See you soon! He really didn’t feel like leaving your apartment- exhaustion was still crawling around in his bones. Your apartment felt so much more cozy than his room at the tower. Your candles, pictures, books, decorations, and you furniture all had elements of you in each piece.

So, he decided to stay until you came back, shooting a quick text before wrapping himself with your blankets and turning the tv on.

You could barely keep the smile off your face or stop the bounce in your step as your shift ended. Arden raised an eyebrow at you.

“Doing anything tonight? Other than cumming over… and over… and over and over again?” Arden asked with a filthy look in her eyes.

“Honestly, I feel like I’m going to pass out before I can even think about pulling an all-nighter for sex,” You smirked.

“Yeah. I’m glad he’s back, maybe you’ll finally get some decent sleep,” She said earnestly with a small smile, “You win some, you lose some. It’s gotta be tough- he’s an Avenger- saving people, fighting true evil. You worry. About all of them. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep much either,” Arden mused as they made their way out of the hospital.

One of her favorite things about her was that she seemed to know what you were thinking even before you even said it.

“You wanna get drinks with me and Bucky this week or something?” You asked before they were about to depart ways. Normally, Arden would have said no- the thought of third wheeling any couple was enough to make her roll her eyes. But Bucky and you weren’t like that- they didn’t do PDA, the overt touches, make other people feel uncomfortable. They included everyone in their conversations, as if they were old friends. It was never a chore being with the two of them. Arden never felt bad about being single- they didn’t remind her of her singleness or make her wish she had someone to bring when they hung out. Sometimes Bucky and you felt like really close best friends rather than a couple to Arden, but then she would pick up on the way Bucky would go the extra effort to get to know your friends and the way you always made sure that Bucky was comfortable wherever he was.

Arden thought they were a strange couple at first- he was so quiet with reserved smiles and meaningful looks and you were so not. But then Arden began to see how you brought him out of his shell, how he smiled and laughed a little louder because of you, how your eyes were filled with adoration, how you had become wiser and more empathetic because of him. The give and take relationship that they had was beautifully unique and Arden felt a benign kind of jealousy towards her friend.

“Yeah, I’d love to. Text me details,” Arden said.

You nodded and bid her goodbye. Butterflies began to float around in your stomach in anticipation of being able to see Bucky properly, being able to hold him in your hands instead of imagining it.  You walked towards the subway station with a giddy smile on your face, not caring about the cold wind whipping your face and making your eyes tear up slightly. All your could think about was Bucky, Bucky, Bucky- his hands, his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed at you, his veiny forearms, his thick thighs, how he completely covered you when he lay on top of you, how he had taken a fondness for horror movies because of you, how safe and warm he made you feel.

God, you were so whipped.

Bucky heard the keys jiggling softly from the other side of the door and you popped your head through before taking off your shoes.

“Hi,” You beamed at him, hanging up your coat. You looked radiant in your black scrubs, despite the tiredness he could see on your face. Your nose was slightly red from the cold and your brown eyes glittered for him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky made his way over to you and was about to kiss you before you protest.

“Let me wash my hands and face and change, Buck,” You ignored his pout and rolled your eyes, but not before lightly smacking his ass.

You had taken your make up off, switched her contacts for glasses and walked out of your room in your favorite flannel and yoga pants. Bucky was seated on the couch and he waited for you to join him.

“C’mere, you’re killing me,” Bucky groaned, itching to have you in his arms.

“A girl is thirsty, damn,” You muttered. You grabbed a water bottle and sat in Bucky’s lap, humming contentedly when his hands immediately went under your shirt, roaming the expanse of your back.

“Did you eat? Did you sleep well? Did you drink enough water? Are you tir-?” You interrogated him but he cut you off with a searing kiss that startled you.

“You can’t just kiss me to shut me up,” You said without any conviction.

“Seems to work every other time,” Bucky smirked, holding you chin in his large hands, “And yes, I ate, slept well, drank enough water. I should be asking you if you’re tired.”

“Nah, I’m okay,” You shook your head, shifting a little so that you were straddling his hips, your fingers dancing in his hair.

“Sorry I kept you up last night, princess,” He murmured, his hands still roaming under your shirt. Bucky managed to get you out of her flannel, leaving you only in you black tank top.

“Stop, don’t do that. I’ll always be here to welcome you home,” You said softly but firmly. He nodded against the column of your neck and looked up at you, blue eyes boring into brown.

“You didn’t want to go back to the tower? You were all alone here all day,” You noted, feeling him start to play with the clasp of your bra.

“I wanted to be here when you came back,” Bucky said, “I missed you too much.” You giggled at the pink that bloomed on his cheeks.

“You’re sweet, you’re gonna rot my teeth,” You brushed your hair out of your face. Bucky rolled his eyes at your cheesiness but pulled you down to him and finally, finally pressed his longing lips to yours. You tasted like your mango flavored chapstick, some remnants of coffee and like home. You deepened the kiss eagerly, pushing him back on the pillows of the couch and rocking your hips into his. He heard you squeak in surprise when he gripped your ass aggressively, pulling you into him even more. You pulled away with hooded eyes, pressing your lips to his stubbled neck, biting and sucking lightly. He inhaled sharply when your hand accidentally pressed against a still smarting bruise on his chest. You almost jumped off of him in alarm with accusing eyes.

“That’s what happens when you don’t let me take care of you,” You sassed him, pulling his shirt off of his torso. He was about to protest- it’s fine, it’ll be gone soon- remember? I’m a super soldier- but you sent him a glare that silenced him.

“You’re not invincible, baby. You and Steve forget ‘cause you both are two stubborn ass peas in a pod,” You murmured, gingerly touching the area around his large, purple bruise, “Stupid Brooklyn boys.”

“Hey!”

You rolled her eyes at him again, clambering off of him and going to find ointment and gauze. Bucky sighed, fiddling with his thumbs. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this- enjoy you scolding him for being reckless, fretting with his bumps and bruises, your fleeting touches doing more for him than the serum ever could. He remembered the one time he had shown up with a large gash on his shoulder and his lower abdomen and you had almost cried when he barely flinched as you meticulously stitched him up without anesthetic in the tower’s med bay. The scar healed nicely but you couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain he had endured for stitches to barely phase him.

The purpling bruise seemed to come alive with her touch and you found some already healing welts littering his right hip. He bit his bottom lip, wishing you would stop trying to fix him and instead press your lips to his, grind your hips into his, run your nimble fingers through his hair.

“What happened here?” your breath fanned out across his skin and he wanted to shiver. You were pointing to his hip, dabbing ointment on it with your other hand.

“I don’t remember, probably scraped across something,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

“What am I going to do with you, Barnes?” You patted his shoulder affectionately before settling on his lap again so as to not press against his bruise.

“Hopefully something that involves your clothes off,” Bucky waggled his eyebrows at you and squeezed your ass.

“Such a charmer,” You rolled your eyes. Bucky flipped you over easily, his hands were already roaming your sides, pushing her hair out of your face and he crashed his lips into yours. He was fiddling with your tank top, trying to get it off your head without breaking the kiss. Bucky almost ripped it off and then glued his lips to your neck, humming at your soft calls of his name. A hiss left your lips when he sucked on her skin a little too hard and he gave you a half-hearted apologetic glance. His pretty, red mouth was making its way down your chest, giving your breasts the attention they deserved.

And then his phone was ringing, breaking their cozy, little bubble and springing them into reality. Bucky cursed and you groaned, already feeling goosebumps rising on your bare skin when he stood up to grab the offending device. You wrapped yourself around him when he sat back down and kissed his neck absent-mindedly as he spoke to Steve on the phone, sounding a little annoyed.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” You whispered in his ear before licking it lightly. He fake-glared at you and hung up the phone, bidding his best friend goodbye with a promise that they’d be there soon. Bucky leaned over and attacked your neck with his lips, making you squeal with laughter. His arms went under your legs to pull you into his lap, and then suddenly you were in the air. Your legs wrapped around his waist, hands in his chestnut hair all while he walked you to the bedroom- his metal hand cool against your thigh and his flesh hand warm against your other thigh, without breaking the kiss.

“We have to be fast, we should go soon,” You pulled away with hooded eyes, feeling your knees buckle. Bucky held you against the wall, somehow always knowing when you needed to be held steady. He wanted to take his time with you and revisit all the places he knew you loved. But he also knew you wanted to see everyone at the tower as well. So, he nodded against your hair. You bite your lip, not breaking eye contact with him. Your stomach rolled at the predatory look in his eyes, knowing that if he could have his way, you wouldn’t have left this bed all night.

With a delicious ache in between your legs and a content smile on your face, you forced Bucky to lay with you for a few minutes before they had to leave to go to the Tower. They were already running late- as evidenced by the onslaught of texts on both of their phones. You loved feeling his strong arms around you, his fingers drawing mindless patterns on your skin, your legs hooked around his and your chest against his. Seeing the spent look and lazy smile on her face did wonders for him.

“We should get up, princess. Before everyone at the tower has an aneurysm,” Bucky pressed his lips to your hair and you groaned, pushing your face further into his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I could pass out right here,” You mumbled hoarsely. You rubbed her eyes and yawned, pushing herself out of bed and dragging on your underwear and clothes with fatigue running through your bones. Bucky stood up and helped her into your clothes, noticing your half asleep eyes.

“We could stay. You look like you’re gonna fall asleep standing up,” Bucky took your chin in his hands.

“I wanna see everyone,” You protested, shaking your head. Bucky nodded and got dressed himself, searching your closet for his sweater.

“Do we smell like sex?” Bucky asked, not wanting to hear Sam’s teasing. You shrugged and handed him his cologne, motioning to spray it on both of them. You handed him his coat and you put your coat on, along with your beanie. Bucky grabbed his car keys, your purse, and your hand and walked them out the door and towards the elevator.

You had taken a seat on the couch with Natasha and Wanda as they discussed their future plans for brunch. You wouldn’t have taken either of them for brunch gals when you had first met them, but who could resist the temptation of endless mimosas and bloody Mary’s?

Definitely not you.

Tony began playing the movie and everyone got situated. You shot Bucky an apologetic glance, wanting to sit next to him so you could fall asleep on him. You had no plans to watch any of this movie- despite it being a horror film- your favorite type of movie. He shrugged and sat on the other end of the couch with Sam and Steve. Sam protested indignantly when the lights went down and he realized that they were watching The Conjuring. You stifled her yawns and your heart felt full as you glanced around, knowing that all of them were tired, worn out, but safe.

You caught yourself falling asleep and blinking your eyes awake to focus on the movie. Natasha moved to the floor- her shoulders were starting to ache and Wanda went to bed, rolling her eyes at the movie. Tony sat next to her after getting more popcorn and you rested your head on his shoulder. You draped the blanket over Tony and tucked your feet under your legs, trying to warm them up. Tony was so warm, so inviting for you to fall asleep on.

Bucky watched you doze off, only to force yourself awake again. Your head lolled onto Tony’s shoulder and he wondered if he should put you to bed. Bucky thought better of it when Tony shifted a little, allowing you to rest comfortably against him.

If it was anyone else, he would’ve seen red, he would have been breathing fire and he would have thrown punches. But your relationship with Tony was different- he was your unofficial official big brother and Bucky wouldn’t take that away. Bucky hardly watched the movie though, itching to have you in his arms again. Your eyebrows furrowed in your sleep before you opened your eyes blearily, muttering a soft apology to Tony and searching out for Bucky. You said goodnight to Tony, unable to keep your eyes open any longer, and stood up, silently asking if Bucky was going to join you.

Tony looked like he wanted to make a smartass comment but thought better of it when he saw lines of fatigue on your face. Bucky nodded and stood up, leading you to his room with his hand on the small of your back

“I’m so sleepy,” You whined at him, placing her glasses on his nightstand. You stood in front of his closet, looking for a shirt to sleep in and quickly left your clothes on a chair in the corner of his room. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist after he discarded his shirt and sweats. He buried his nose in your neck and you sighed contentedly as he walked them to his bed. Your eyes were barely open when you crawled into his bed, disappearing under the covers.

“Come here, baby. Cuddle with me,” Your voice came out muffled. Your brown eyes peeked out at him and your arms were held out, like you was a child. Your legs immediately wrapped around his own once he laid next to you, your arms around his waist and your warm lips at the back of his neck. Guilt began to seep into his blood when he realized that he hadn’t even asked you about you day, about why you were so tired, about your plans, about anything. But he could barely stay awake with your hands weaving through his hair and your legs cocooning him against you.

Despite your fatigue, you stayed awake until you were sure Bucky’s breaths evened out in your arms, whispering in his ear about how much you adored him, about how you were so glad they were all safe, about how he was safe. It always took a little longer for his mind to quiet down after long missions. You would always cut him off mid apology after these missions, telling him fiercely that this is what they were- a couple, a relationship, who gave and took without thank yous or I’m sorry’s.

You played with his hair even after he had fallen asleep, sighing lightly when you realized he probably wouldn’t talk about this mission with you for a while. You hadn’t missed the sympathetic, worn out look in Steve’s normally tranquil eyes, the slow drag of Sam’s feet or the quiet, unspoken need that came from Nat for her to discuss anything besides the mission.

You decided that you would make breakfast for them tomorrow morning- pancakes and waffles, sausage, egg, bacon, fresh fruit. Mimosas? You almost laughed at yourself and closed your eyes, pictures of waffles and fruit floating around across your eyelids.

The first thing that woke you up was the sudden chill you felt against your skin. You felt around the bed for Bucky and your eyes popped open when you realized he wasn’t in bed. You were a heavy sleeper, something you had been trying to grow out of for him, so you must have missed him peeling out of your grip and leaving his room.

You groped around for your glasses and threw on one of Bucky’s hoodies that went down to your mid-thigh, not bothering with pants. She hoped that nobody would be up at this hour- 1:36 AM- and trekked your way to the living room where your found Bucky mindlessly staring at the television, watching reruns of Friends.

“Buck?” You asked hoarsely, rubbing sleep out of your eyes with a yawn. You sat down next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and rested your head against his bicep.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked softly, fingers lightly tracing his jaw. His eyes were steely, still not quite looking at you. You didn’t expect a verbal answer and instead stroke his metal arm tenderly. A bubble of helplessness bloomed in your chest but you squashed it quickly. Sometimes you didn’t know what to do when he got like this- you didn’t know how to help him or even if you helped him at all. Youwanted to- you wished you could ease his pain. You hated that you felt so insecure- he deserved someone who could help him, who knew how to help him. You knew there was so much he shielded you from about himself, about what he’d done, about his past.

Bucky finally looked at you and felt his throat choke up when he saw the concerned frown on your pretty face. You looked younger, with your messy ponytail, glasses and his too big hoodie. It was true, he couldn’t sleep- because he’d had a nightmare. It wasn’t one of his usual nightmares that woke him up in a sweat, that left him paranoid and reeling, usually reaching out for your simple touch. It was a nightmare that he couldn’t fully recall- but he knew it involved you. It involved him hurting you, physically and mentally- the sound of your bloodcurdling screams still echoing in his head, his metal hand wrapped around your neck, the spattering of blood on your neck haunting him, the dead look in your eyes refusing to leave- and that was enough for him to resist reaching out for you once he had woken up. It was enough to force himself away.

You resisted the urge to feel hurt when he yanked his hand out from your grasp and moved his jaw out of your reach. He looked away again, not allowing you to see into the storm that was raging behind his blue eyes. You couldn’t help your throat from going slightly dry. You found herself wishing she could ask Steve what to do right now.

He was rigid next to you, not uttering a word, his breaths come out in low, shallow breaths. You stared at him for a moment, willing yourself to reach out to him again and knowing that he was pushing you away because he was scared. Bucky just wanted you to go back to sleep so you wouldn’t see him breakdown. It wasn’t fair to you that he was projecting his fears onto you and pushing you away at the same time. He heard your teeth beginning to chatter from the cold despite his hoodie and he resisted the urge to pull you into him and bury you under him.

“Go to bed, you’re cold,” Bucky almost snapped. He still didn’t look at you and he tensed up when you took his hands in your own. “Come back to bed with me,” You said earnestly. Bucky brought his eyes to yours reflexively and cursed internally when he saw the look of adoration in them. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t even deserve to stand in the same room as her, let alone sleep in the same bed as her.

“Go to bed, please,” He all but begged you. He pushed your hands away again, ignoring the look of hurt that flashed across your face. A knot began to form in his chest- he was hurting your and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, resisting the urge to take his chin into your hands and bring his face down to yours. She wasn’t used to this. Your heart began to ache nervously but you pushed it away, trying to get him to look at you. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and still didn’t look at you.

“Please, just go,” Bucky found himself saying quietly, meeting your eyes. He fidgeted with the hem on his shirt as he bounced his leg up and down.

“Don’t push me away, James,” You said, “You can talk-”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and couldn’t stop the knot in his chest from growing larger. He felt like he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden- like the walls around him were becoming smaller and smaller, like you was getting further and further away from him, like he was shrinking into the floor. He didn’t even realize his breathing start to get more rapid. You felt your heart break a little bit before taking his face in your careful hands, pressing his face into your shoulder and whispering to him to just breathe, that he was okay and that you was here for him. You felt his tears on your skin and had to choke your own tears away. His arms were tight around you, as if she would disappear if he let go.

“I had a bad dream,” He breathed into your neck, “I-I hurt you. I hurt you - you were screaming a-and crying, I was choking you- I don’t know- I can’t- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry- You deserve better, I’m only going to hurt you-I’m going to ruin you-”

You tightened your grip on him and brought his chin up to look at you. The broken look in his watery eyes was enough to bring you to tears as well. He expected you to pull away in fear or disgust, but instead you looked at him like he had hung the moon itself.

“James,” You said barely above a breath but he could hear the emotion in your voice regardless, “I know you’ll never hurt me. Because I trust you. And I know you. I trust you so goddamn much- you just have to trust yourself. Which is something we’ll work on together. I just-want you to know, you never have to push me away-”

He cut you off abruptly, pulling you into his lap and pushing his lips to yours fiercely. You squeaked in surprise but nevertheless, pushed back against him, pouring your love into him.

God, he didn’t deserve you. You hadn’t even flinched when he told you he had dreamed of basically killing you- instead showering him with kisses and adoration. Was this love? He didn’t even know, but he wanted it to be.

“Baby,” You crooned, batting your lashes with a small smile, “Let’s go back to bed?”

Why were you smiling at him? Why were you looking at him like he was your sun, like he was the reason that the stars shone brightly? All he knew was that he never wanted her to stop. He nodded, kissed your cheek, and carried you to his room.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, princess,” Bucky said softly once you were tucked against his side, feeling your fingers dancing up and down his metal arm. You shook your head at him with a smile, reassuring him that it was okay, that you was okay.

You always seemed to somehow bring him back down to earth and center him.

tag list: @coal000

[kafkasgods]

faaya shah BOT 10/19/2020 There were a lot of ways to go about the wallet in Faaya’s bag. She could have thrown it away. Could have pilfered it. Could have had someone else return it. She really didn’t have any intention of doing what she was doing now. But after Phobos had visited her, Faaya felt inclined to do the exact opposite of what he would have liked. It was the small, spiteful victories that helped her tolerate Phobos being right with the overall picture. But regardless, that was how Faaya found herself on the other side of 105 at the Gray, hoping she wasn’t being presumptuous in assuming Audrey was home at this hour in the morning. Faaya had just gotten off work, so she figured she’d swing by.

@Audrey Ngo October 20, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 10/20/2020 Audrey had absolutely nothing to do today and was consequently about to crawl out of her skin. She wasn’t quite up to interacting with the town-- something about the streets of Epinieos made her feel positively hateful, so she took to the woods. She’d run for she didn’t know how long, but when she made it back to her apartment, she was sweat-soaked and not in any better of a mood.

Which is way she was surprised to see Faaya there, waiting. Audrey almost faltered, hesitating half a stride before continuing on her approach. Don’t shit where you eat, don’t crumble where you live into ruins just because someone you don’t like at all shows up at your door.

“Did someone like, post my address on Craiglist?” she asked hollowly, brows raising in impatience as she looked between Faaya and the apartment. Annoyance buzzed, insistent, in the back of her mind. “If you’re looking for a second round, I don’t think I have it in me today.” ( @Faaya Shah ) October 22, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/22/2020 Unexpectedly, Audrey was hesitant upon seeing Faaya and there wasn’t much Faaya could do to alleviate it. “No, but you left it in a crater.” Flashing the wallet at the other woman for a light of understanding, she held it out. “It’s entirely possible I overreacted to something I should be well-used to now. I’m not asking for forgiveness, but if you’re not looking to try and kick my ass again, I can lift your ban at the Grapevine.”

@Audrey Ngo October 23, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 10/23/2020 "Oh." Audrey felt a blush starting in her ears, and sheepishly accepted both her wallet and the olive branch Faaya offered. "It's kinda sad I didn't even notice I lost it, huh?"

She nudged her apartment door open, which she'd left unlocked. It was easier than lugging her keys along on her run. Her head tilted, indicating Faaya could enter her apartment, if she so chose. "I appreciate it. My cousin was pretty dead set on us showing up and making a scene, but she talked herself out of it, thank gods."

Audrey moved as she spoke, fetching two glasses of water from the sink. They were sorely mismatched in size, but she offered Faaya the larger one in her own gesture of goodwill. ( @Faaya Shah ) October 24, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/24/2020 When Audrey gestured for Faaya to go in, it took her a moment to register the invitation. A little surprised, she entered, warily. She didn’t expect Audrey to do anything untoward, but with a naturally suspicious nature, Faaya was always careful with the unexpected. “If I were you, I wouldn’t tell me her name. I’d hate to lose more business.” The uncaring tone in her voice said differently.

Faaya kept her eyes on Audrey, not looking around the apartment. She wasn’t nosy and it’d be rude. “Thank you,” she said, accepting the water. “You throw a mean punch. Though, I have to ask, has reacting on instinct worked out well?” It wasn’t something she ever did, but of course, she was tempted every now and again.

@Audrey Ngo

audrey ngo BOT 10/24/2020 Audrey shook her head, inhaling her glass of water and replacing it before really speaking. “You know her, she’s really just like that, but it’s all good.” Her shoulders lifted and dropped as she finished her second glass. She should probably dig up some of her gear from the Hunt and start bringing her own nalgene, but that seemed like a pain. Especially with Faaya standing in her house just as prim and competent as she did within the Grapevine.

“As for me, I would say it’s got a fifty-fifty shot of turning out alright. Sorry about your face,” she added as a bit of an afterthought, knowing full well that if she had to craft a proper apology, it wouldn’t sound nearly as sincere. “And your concrete. Just... not really my place to cause a scene. I’ll be on my best behavior next time.” As she spoke, she finally sank into her futon, legs lifting on the back and leaving plenty of room for Faaya to sit, even though she doubted the nightclub manager would. ( @Faaya Shah )

faaya shah BOT 10/24/2020 There wasn’t any need to press for more. If someone else wanted to come swinging, she’d deal with it then. Faaya wasn’t thirsty, but despite most people’s impression of her, she wasn’t rude. Drinking about half the cup, placed it back down on the nearby table. “Thank you,” she said of the apology. It wasn’t necessary, but apologizes took pride and she wasn’t going to spit on Audrey’s. “It might be a headache to deal with, but we’re getting a nicer exterior, so it’s not so bad.”

Audrey seemed to relax as they continued talking and Faaya, who really hadn’t been intending to stay long, found herself taking up the invitation of taking a seat. She guessed it was because it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. “Really. It’s less of a headache than the bouncers I have to deal with.”

@Audrey Ngo October 26, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 10/26/2020 Twisting so she was in her preferred position-- upside down with her legs hanging over the back-- Audrey turned her head slightly to keep Faaya in her line of sight. She found she didn’t mind the company. She didn’t even get goosebumps when the child of Phobos sat relatively close. “Yeah? I bet. Not one of them escorted me out, they looked like real knuckledraggers. Really, this issue between us is all their fault.” ( @Faaya Shah ) October 29, 2020

faaya shah BOT 10/29/2020 Faaya snorted at the comment. “Seamus is still kind of a kid and Dayn’s an ex, so it’s not great.” Really, saying it out like that, Faaya wondered what their last manager had been thinking. What they needed was older and more experienced muscle. “But I didn’t hire them and as much as I’d like, I also don’t have just cause to fire them.” She let out a short sigh. “That reminds me I need to find someone for next weekend. I really should have made Dayn look for a replacement.” Even if she was mostly talking to herself, she didn’t want the conversation to be entirely her so she waved her hand brushing it off. “What about you, what do you do?”

@Audrey Ngo November 4, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 11/04/2020 “well, last i checked you weren’t allowed to date your boss, so maybe you can use conflict of interest to get rid of dayn,” audrey suggested. seamus she didn’t know so much about, but she could work on that. it felt good to help faaya with her problems, somewhat. more of an apology through action than through weak words.

“i work at the thrift store. as thrilling as that is,” she continued. then the single, frantic hamster in her brain started spinning on its wheel, and a lightbulb went off. audrey sat up suddenly, probably startling faaya with the swift motion. “let me work the door for you this weekend! i’ve got credentials, we can summon artemis tonight, if you want.” ( @Faaya Shah ) November 5, 2020

faaya shah BOT 11/05/2020 “That’s true, but he doesn’t really stay in jobs very long, so I’m better off waiting it out,” Faaya shrugged lightly. Though Faaya let the threat of being fired hang in the air like a suspended guillotine, she wasn’t one to do it ruthlessly. Yet. The first firing she’d do would have to be someone who would make a lesson to the rest of her staff. Until she met someone willing to push her that far, it just wasn’t a possibility at the moment.

Finding out where Audrey worked a little bit of a surprise. Faaya had been to the thrift store and the quaint place seemed ill-suited to Audrey. Though, she guessed it was retail and a person really needed a fearful backbone to deal with it.

It was in the middle of that thought when Audrey moved quickly in her peripheral vision and Faaya just as abruptly scooted back, giving the woman her full attention. Sudden changes required new suspicious eyes. At least until Audrey made her case clear and Faaya relaxed. “Oh. You want to work for me?” Faaya had just been touching on the idea of older and more experienced muscle and the other didn’t exactly inspire that. At least upon first glance.

Faaya hummed, looking over the immortal Hunter of Artemis, who gave a mean right hook. Faaya was already convinced and willing to try Audrey out, but she would be lying if she said she’d never been curious about the Goddess of the Hunt, so jumping at the opportunity, she asked for the reference. “Sure, summon Artemis.”

@Audrey Ngo November 7, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 11/07/2020 * tw weapon mention * already firing on all cylinders, audrey glanced out her window, gauging the sun as it set behind the trees to the back of her building. “honestly, let’s do it now. hope you don’t mind getting your shoes muddy,” she mused, jumping to her feet and stepping into her gym shoes once again. figuring faaya just wanted to see artemis magic in action. it had been a burning curiosity of her own, so she didn’t look back as she headed towards the treeline.

wandering between the trees, audrey found a nice mossy spot and knelt on the ground, nodding slightly to show faaya she should do the same. bowing her head, audrey began to whisper a prayer to summon artemis. her memory had not failed her there, atleast, as she finished the prayer without stumbling over any of the greek words.

her head didn’t lift until her artemis-gifted bow and quiver materialized in her upraised palms. an impossibly large white stag, seemingly backlit with moonlight, stood in the clearing, liquid dark eyes examining her and faaya. “hey, cery,” she greeted artemis’ companion familiarly. “thanks for coming so fast!”

the stag somehow managed a look of benign amusement. “what is it you require of the goddess, audrey?”

“uh, my brother wanted me to ask for a tiger to ride through the streets, but that’s not a requirement,” she continued quickly. then she followed the cerynitian hind’s gaze to faaya. “oh! and this is faaya, she’s considering me for a position as a bouncer at the local club, which you’ve got to admit is much more suited to my personality than my current place of employment. i just needed a good reference for being strong and dependable.”

“if you were not strong and dependable, audrey, you would not be a very valuable part of the hunt.”

audrey raised her brows at faaya in an i told you so gesture. then she nudged her future employer. “any other questions?” ( @Faaya Shah ) November 9, 2020

faaya shah BOT 11/09/2020 Glancing down at her suede shoes, Faaya really didn’t want to get them dirty. It was only recently that she was able to afford the lifestyle she cultivated for herself and she liked taking care of her things. But there was no backing out meeting Artemis over a pair of shoes, so she resigned herself to following Audrey into the forest quietly like a shadow. Faaya’s only business for the moment was to observe.

It was only when there was a sudden heavy presence did Faaya lift her head, and instinctively, she let a barrier of intimidation surround herself. One that insinuated Faaya was not helpless and a being of fear herself. The stag was beautiful, but she knew to be cautious. Audrey, however, was in her element and it was no sooner that her recommendation was backed up. Faaya couldn't help, but have some distaste upon not being addressed personally. Either way, Faaya didn’t have much questions for the stag. She’d wanted to see the process first-hand, but she had no business with the Hunt. Still, she would look foolish without at least a single question. “If Audrey is so capable, what was the reason she was sent back to Epineios?”

@Audrey Ngo November 12, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 11/12/2020 audrey felt a prickle of annoyance at the other’s question, whipping her head over to squint at faaya. she thought they were cool now, and they probably were, but the tone still rankled. the hunt was not hades’ good graces. audrey actually cared about artemis’ opinion. turning back to cery, she was equally surprised to see the stag’s gaze was locked on faaya, unwavering.

“so you do wish to speak, daughter of phobos,” it noted. “it seemed, with your immediate defense, you wished to be left alone. like a hedgehog that curls away from anything that frightens it, i was content to let you be.” its head inclined once, antlers indicating audrey. she felt a little like she was being sent to the principal’s office.

“audrey volunteered to keep an eye on the town in the goddess’ name. she is perhaps stronger than many demigods, with blessings both from hades and artemis. that being said, she is a bit more ornery than most, so the goddess deigned that a small sabbatical might temper one of the hunt’s youngest member’s instincts somewhat. would she suit your purpose, faaya shah?”

audrey felt the back of her neck heat. when she spoke the words tumbled over each other in her embarrassment. “well, that’s a glowing review, cery. maybe don’t put her on the spot like that.” ( @Faaya Shah ) November 15, 2020

faaya shah BOT 11/15/2020 Upon the thrown away comment, Faaya narrowed her eyes at it. Truthfully, it was hard to tell whether or not she liked the stag. Clearly, it was mocking her, but there was also an appreciation for its wit. She chose to ignore it, allowing the divine animal to speak its truth.

Frankly, the review was promising and the job Faaya had seemed perfect for Audrey. Audrey already possessed better qualities than her current bouncers in her opinion, and in return, working under Faaya would be putting Audrey’s temperament to the test. Faaya replied leveled, “By your word, she does. So I suppose this is a good opportunity to judge the quality your lady Artemis keeps. I should hope not to be disappointed. Send her my and my father’s regards and appreciation.”

Breaking eye contact with the stag for the first time, she turned to Audrey. “You wanna start earlier? I need to train you before you take next weekend’s shift alone.”

@Audrey Ngo November 21, 2020

audrey ngo BOT 11/21/2020 so she got the job, but audrey still felt, keenly, the sense of indignation that came with being talked over. atleast she could focus on faaya’s invitation to distract herself from the feeling she knew would pass after a moment. “yeah, say the word. the thrift store closes before your evening rush even really starts.”

turning back to the cerynitian hind, the ethereal beast guessed her line of thought. “you will not be receiving a tiger from the goddess, audrey. but we are glad to see you find more suitable employment, and seeking peace where there was once animosity. i am going to take my leave now.” the great white stag bowed low to them both, and was gone the next instant.

audrey’s head dipped in silent prayer to the goddess, thanking her for the counsel. when audrey was finished, she pushed up off the ground, brushing dirt from her knees with one hand and offering faaya the other. “if that doesn’t go to show you that all the gods can be pretentious, what would?” she asked casually. “though cery is pretty to look at, atleast.” ( @Faaya Shah )

faaya shah BOT 11/21/2020 emulating audrey in what looked to be a prayer, faaya did the same, whether or not she was meant to. better to be safe than sorry. audrey offered her a hand and faaya took it, pulling up and brushing any lingering dirt off. she was glad to note her shoes weren’t entirely ruined, though there was still the trek back. “that’s true.” she agreed. somehow, she preferred phobo’s lack of mannerisms. “we can start you two days from now, if that works. bring some i.d.” faaya didn’t wait for audrey as she started walking back. “i will say, i’d be glad to finally have a decent employee if this works out, audrey.” she turned her head back to offer audrey a small smile over her shoulder. @Audrey Ngo

[calix-daesyn]

Commander Ryke and Noxians of Honor (Calix History Drabble)

Calix’s mind was whirring. Different possible ways to get out of this situation leapt up, interrupting one another and each arguing for their own plausibility. There was no fighting his way out - there never was for him, really. Talking his way out also seemed to fall short here, but he also just hadn’t had time to think clearly. When the small group of men had come across him, he had been thirsty, sun sick, and desperately clinging to the dying shade of a large stone - hardly a situation in which he could think things out.

Now, with water and food in his system there was too much panic. He had been informed so blatantly that he wouldn’t be going anywhere - that they had pulled him out of the desert and they were going to find some use for him, whether that meant finding somewhere they could sell him or keeping him around to serve some purpose. There seemed very little room for negotiation with them. He just needed time to think about this. That was all.

The tug of the rope around his wrist encouraged him to move and he stumbled forward after the man in front of him. They were mercenaries by trade, it seemed - but perhaps not entirely unfamiliar with trading humans as well with how casually they considered taking the young man they had plucked out of the sands to one of the areas where the peoples still considered trading a person for money perfectly acceptable. They seemed to know just which places those were and that spoke to experience.

His eyes darted around the small outpost market - searching for anything or anyone he could use to get him out of this situation. Maybe, he thought, he could work the rope off of his wrist. If he did that, he might be able to dart away in some busier part of the market and disappear. This was not an area where slaves were traded so if he could get away from them and into some establishment or among other people without them there to grab a hold of him, he might be free.

He started to try and do just that, moving his hand to loosen the rope tie with as much caution as he could. It would be dangerous if they spotted him trying, or if they grabbed a hold of him before he could dart away, but at the moment it seemed like his best option. They had taken most of his belongings from his bag - money, knife, leaving him only with his notebook that was utterly meaningless to them and the papers he had stuffed inside. So, even if he got away he’d have to find a way to get home, but it was worth a try.

Just as he started to shift his hand with a little more vigor, he spotted a better option.

There was a glint of metal - a familiar design.

A Noxian captain, walking with several soldiers behind him. One of them wore a bag that had a familiar regiment patch on it. These were real honest to gods Noxian soldiers - and well decorated ones as well, particularly their commander. And, if he recognized the regiment symbol as he thought he did, ones who his mother had spoken well of before. She had talked about their commander - a man of absolute honor. A true Noxian citizen and soldier, loyal and bold always.

This...could be a very good chance.

“Hey!!” he called out - though the commander didn’t turn - and the men in front of and behind him had clearly taken note. The man in front tugged on the rope hard, one of the men behind him gave him a shove.

“Hey!! Hey! Commander!” That got the man’s attention - since it was clear he was being spoken to instead of the shouting just being amongst a crowd. Calix desperately searched for the name in his memory and it spilled from his lips suddenly.

“Commander Ryke!” he shouted the man’s name this time, pulling at the rope to try and break from the line of market goers and the men surrounding him. Now, the commander started forward towards him. Calix smiled - bright and grateful, but the expression soon slipped as a hard tug from the rope made him stumble forward. One of the men behind him moved as if to block him from the Noxian’s sight.

If the man thought this would decrease the commander’s curiosity, however, he was very much mistaken.

Commander Ryke moved towards the small group - gesturing for a few of his men to follow him.

The rope tugged at Calix’s wrist and one of Commander Ryke’s hands tugged at one of his captor’s arms.

“Hold.” the man’s voice was certainly that of a commander’s. He was middle-aged and had served in the Noxian army his entire life - and he bore scars to show for it. “What’s going on here?”

One of the men gave a smile of his own - though not entirely friendly, it was a good attempt. “Nothing to bother yourself with. We’re just doing a little business in our own territory.” He shrugged, “Is Noxus policing every inch of the desert and butting into others’ dealings? I’m sure you have better things to do than bother with some whelp shouting in the market.”

Calix’s heart was racing. If this didn’t work then he would certainly pay for this little display.

“Commander Ryke,” he started, his hand reaching for the bag at his hip, “My na-” he stopped as the man in front of him reached over, grabbing his hand and yanking it back - earning a quick little sound from Calix as the gesture sent a spark of pain through his wrist.

“Let him,” Commander Ryke growled - the soldiers standing behind him reaching for their weapons - though not moving to draw, only reminding the man of the potential threat. There were three mercenaries - and about fifteen total Noxian soldiers. It was not a fight the three men wanted to take.

The mercenary released Calix’s wrist and the young man thought that he could sob in relief. He didn’t, however. Instead, his hand plunged into his bag and pulled out his notebook. He flipped through a couple of pages and drew out a few folded pieces of paper. He handed them over to Commander Ryke.

The Noxian commander took the delicate pieces of paper, unfolding them and taking only a moment or two to glance them over. What he really needed to see was the official stamp on the corner and the status information.

“You are a ways from home.” The commander mused.

Calix offered a small smile, “I’m a merchant by trade - I was only coming here for business.”

“I see that,” Ryke said, lifting the papers lightly. “Alone?”

The smile was still there, but a little sheepish perhaps, “I’m afraid I’m not quite wealthy enough a merchant to hire bodyguards.”

“Perhaps you should consider it.”

“Ah...perhaps.”

“Daesyn.”

“Yes.”

“You’re a half-blood, it says. And not a citizen? What is the other half?”

“Piltovian.”

“Ah. So that would explain it, I suppose. More made for the mercantile trade and the like. Numbers and papers.”

Calix thought his heart would choke him, he could only nod and offer that smile.

Commander Ryke’s eyes turned then to the man holding the rope. “You can take your rope back. We will take him from here. On behalf on Noxus, thank you for pulling one of our own from the desert. I will gladly reimburse you for the water and food you no doubt provided him.”

The three mercenaries all wore the same angry frown - and not one made a move to untie his wrist.

“You can buy him, if you want him.” One offered, perhaps still unwilling to cause too much trouble with the Noxian.

Commander Ryke raised his brows, “I maybe a foreigner, but I know very well that there is no slavery in this territory - no slave market in this outpost. We will take care of him from here.”

“No slave market,” one of the men snapped, “But we are still due what we are due - you can pay what we would have sold him for to some whore house or bandit who wanted more pretty bitches - we know plenty of them.”

Now, the commander’s hand rested at his side, near his sword hilt. “You seem mistaken. The young man you have here is a Noxian Subject. Noxians are slaves to no foreign whore house or bandit who thinks himself a king. I, as a Noxian Citizen, Soldier, and Commander am tasked with the duty of protecting Noxus, our people, and our assets. This young man is both one of our people and - given his education, abilities, and work - one of our assets. So, you can either remove your rope or I can remove the hand you hold it with. Thank you for pulling one of our own from the desert.” His hand rested on the hilt of the sword now, “I will take care of him from here and return him home to Noxus where he belongs.”

There was a tense moment as the two men stared at one another, as the Noxian soldiers stood by, ready - perhaps even eager - to fight for this. It was more, with Commander Ryke’s words, than saving some young man from a bad situation. Frankly, if the men did not let him go now, it would be an insult to Noxus - it would be them making a statement that they thought they could just walk off with a Noxian Subject right in front of a Commander and his unit with no trouble at all. It would feel good to display a touch of Noxian might.

Then, the rope was off of Calix’s wrist. It took a moment to untie the knot, but it was gone and Commander Ryke’s hand was on the young man’s arm, pulling him away from the three mercenaries before they dared have a change of heart.

“That was a very wise decision.” Ryke said before turning and guiding Calix with a hand on his back, towards the waiting rest of the unit. Calix knew he heard one of the mercenaries curse under his breath and the young man couldn’t help smiling when he did. This had worked. It had honestly worked.

The papers he had given to Ryke were held in front of him and Calix was quick to take them back and tuck them away back in the notebook where they belonged. He probably could have made his case without them, told them who he was, where he lived, what he did, what his mother did, what her unit was and could have had enough evidence of his identity to get some assistance. However, the papers had made things much easier and he swore he would never go anywhere without something to identify him like this again.

“You should consider applying to be a merchant and camp assistant with the military.” Calix almost jumped when Ryke spoke - so lost in his thoughts.

“I-”

“You would be safer. At least a few soldiers with you wherever you went, and you would be serving your nation directly instead of simply through profits pulled. If you had been with soldiers, nothing like this would have happened to you in the first place.”

“I...should consider that-”

“If you were full blooded and a soldier yourself, it might not be so much of a worry.”

“Mmnh.”

“But you are quite small, and untrained. A half-blood Subject shouldn’t be on his own - you have very little way of defending yourself. Find yourself a bodyguard or Guardian - find some way to surround yourself with the strength available to you. You can hardly expect to take care of yourself with the dangers that present themselves.”

“Thank you, Commander Ryke.”

“Of course. No Noxian of honor would do any less.”

Somehow, Calix did not think that that was quite true - he was sure that he had met plenty of Noxians that would not have bothered for a moment. Then again, maybe Commander Ryke would not consider them ‘of honor’.

He was right though about a few things. Calix hadn’t been very able to defend himself. He had made some very bad decisions - about when he had traveled, the supplies he had carried, hoping to defend himself with something like a knife. Since when had he been able to fight someone off in close combat? He had learned a great deal now - among other things he needed to find some new and better ways to defend himself. And perhaps he could use some protection.

[pinkipie100]

Lance and the 25 Days Chapter III: Mall

It’s Ficcember Chapter III! Ha ha, nice job posting as late as possible again, requiring another morning reblog, Pinki, absolutely typical! Many apologies, but this weekend was ENTIRELY busy. I was barely home and had to do all my writing in the late afternoon, and in classic Pinki fashion, as I continue to write, I tend to ramble on and on and draw my plots out in a more complex manner than is necessary. BUT F*CK IT, IT’S THE HOLIDAY SEASON!!!

Team Voltron has arrived at their belovéd Space Mall, and it’s time to do some holiday shopping in a place that is guaranteed to have absolutely nothing that they are looking for!

Words: 2576

Category: Gen

Contains: Lance in a hat, thirsty hungry Shiro, Luki, DreamTeam™ Hidge/Punk, Excited Alteans, belief in Santa Clause, Distressed Christmas Mom™ Lance

Trigger Warning: peppermint bark deprivation

Takes place after Chapter II’s wormhole jump, when the team has arrived at the Space Mall.

P. S. Extra credit to anyone who can identify the probably-obscure reference I’m making with the ‘I made it’ line.

The Castle of Lions was parked near the Space Mall, and all of the paladins and Coran had arrived in the mall. Lance, Santa hat atop his head, lead them to the main plaza, then turned around, stepping up on a bench to brief the team.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go over it one more time,” he began. “Shiro, what are you in charge of?” Shiro answered that he was responsible for looking for decorations. “Great. Hunk, Pidge, what are you guys doing?” The pair confirmed that they would be on the lookout for items to make their holiday dinners with. “Exactly. Coran, Allura?” The boy drawled the latter’s name with an extremely friendly smirk, and both Alteans energetically announced that they were going with Lance to search for a tree and learn more about Christmas gift-giving traditions on the way. “Awesome! So, we all know what we’re doing. Everyone will do their assigned shopping first, and after a varga, we can all split off how we want to buy presents for the other team members.” Shiro coughed, making meaningful eye contact with Lance. “Also, don’t forget to buy Keith a gift,” Lance recalled firmly. When the other team members expressed confusion, Lance elaborated, “I’m going to make sure Keith,” Lance made sure to practically spit the other teen’s name, “is going to join us for the holidays. So… everyone has to get him a Chri- um… Shiro, he does celebrate Christmas, right?”

Shiro hesitated for a moment, then responded, “Uh, yes. Yes, he does.” Shiro looked rather unsure when he said this, and Lance asked if Shiro knew whether or not Keith was Jewish, to which he responded, “No, I know he isn’t Jewish.” Pidge appeared to sink just slightly.

“In any case, we’re going to all buy a present for Keith. So just get, like, a knife or something,” Lance instructed. The corner of his lip upturned just so after the jibes at his rival he so fondly missed making. The red paladin then called for the team to fan out, and he jumped down from his pedestal to join Coran and Allura.

Shiro casually window-shopped  through the wings of the Space Mall, seeing very little that could be considered ‘festive’ for either Hanukkah or Christmas. Shiro was beginning to think Lance had given him the hardest job… Did the red paladin think Shiro could handle this just because he was an adult? Coran should have been handling this job; he had way more knowhow of this mall that Shiro, who was here for the first time, did!

The black paladin peered at a small kiosk a little ways away, and his pupils promptly contracted whilst he gasped dramatically. It was an alien sweets stand- with something eerily similar in appearance to peppermint bark. The man gulped, tried to recollect himself, then swaggered over to the kiosk, trying his best to look nonchalant- and overdoing considerably. When he arrived, he pretended to be apathetically browsing the treats, until he came across the peppermint bark.

Shiro leaned on the kiosk surface, pointing to the delectable snack, then questioning, whilst simultaneously resisting the urge to drool, “How much is this, if I may ask?” The unilu manning the kiosk flippantly replied that it was one hundred twenty thousand GAC each, and Shiro tensed up. “Uhhh…” Shiro stuttered. “Wh-why so expensive?”

The unilu stopped filing her nails only momentarily before she continued to file away and sighed, “Look, I don’t know, man; I just work here. It’s probably, like, really hard to procure or… like, rare, or whatever.”

Can’t argue with that… Shiro agreed. The black paladin felt his guts tearing themselves asunder as he struggled to determine whether or not it was worth it. For just one, one single taste of home, Shiro might kill a man. But at the same time, he only had so much money to do shopping for, and he still had to buy the presents along with the décor. Lance would be so disappointed if Shiro came back empty-handed, and it was the least Shiro owed the red paladin in light of Lance promising to have Keith come over for their celebrations. At the unilu’s impatient prodding for Shiro to hurry up and buy something, Shiro made a strained decision.

Forgive me, Voltron, for I have sinned… the black paladin thought as he paid the kiosk worker and picked out a piece of peppermint bark. He then swiftly turned away, gazed lovingly at the alluring, candy cane crumble-topped sweet, and, with a tear in his eye, he took a bite of the… rock? Shiro’s teeth clacked against solid, tasteless stone, and the alleged peppermint pieces punctured the roof of his mouth. He yelped and flinched his hand away from his mouth, taking a closer look at the holiday treat.

“Dude, like, why are you eating that gemstone?” the unilu called from behind Shiro. At the paladin’s flabbergasted, ‘what?’ the worker reiterated, “The Anbytorian Gemstone that you just bought! Why the heck did you just try to eat it?!”

Shiro, trying and failing to keep his face neutral, whined in a wobbly voice, “This is… a rock?” The unilu nodded boredly, and Shiro’s eyes welled up. “No… no reason…” he uttered, and he walked away shamefully and with a broken heart.

“Weirdo,” the unilu working at the jewelry kiosk rolled her eyes.

Seriously, I think finding a tree or some holiday foods would be one thousand times easier than finding decorations, only to be tricked into buying some expensive-as-quiznack peppermint bark that isn’t even edible, Shiro thought tragically, staring down at the gemstone in his hands. Suddenly, he got an idea, and immediately brightened up. He rushed back to the kiosk, and slammed his palms on the table surface, enthusiastically asking, “Excuse me, but where can I find an Anbytorian-themed shop?”

“This smells just like cherries!” Pidge called to Hunk, holding up a basket of yellow, spring-shaped fruits.

“I found something that works just like oil,” Hunk called back, “only it works even faster!”

“Powdered sugar equivalent!” Pidge declared, purchasing a few bags of light green edible powder.

“Eggs for the sufganiyah dough!” Hunk mentioned, displaying a bag of strange, transparent-cyan embryos in a clear fluid.

“This restaurant had something almost exactly like corn syrup that we could use for making candy canes!” Pidge pointed out.

“This kitchen has a giant apple that tastes exactly like roast beef!” Hunk showed off.

“Whoo, we’re on a roll!” Pidge cheered, hauling an applesauce substitute into her bag. Hunk high-fived her in agreement, smirking at her.

“You know, I was thinking. Maybe we could do more than just cook meals for ourselves,” Hunk mused to his shorter friend. When Pidge expressed curiosity, the yellow paladin stated further, “Since there are so many displaced refugees on Olkarion, I figure it might be a nice gesture for Team Voltron to cook a feast for them. You know, maybe just for a night.”

“Hm, that sounds like a great idea… The… most selfless idea I’ve ever heard… but, who would cook it?” the green paladin inquired. Hunk blankly stared at Pidge, then proclaimed that he would, of course. “Hunk for all of those people? That’s a tall order, even for you!”

Hunk agreed that it would be quite the feat, so he may need some assistant cooks. He could enlist the help of a few Olkari if they were willing, plus Lance knew how to cook somewhat well.

“When would we host it?” Pidge finally wondered.

After some deliberation, Hunk proposed, “What about the night before Christmas? That way we could unwind on after a big Voltron event, and we would already have the Christmas dinner cooked. It won’t conflict with Hanukkah, either, and we could spend the days between the two doing some cooking ahead.”

Pidge nodded in approval and suggested, “This may just be my Jewish side wanting to put my two cents in, but what do you say I… I don’t know, light some candles and hang some lanterns in the trees around the forest, and that’s where we could host the feast?” Hunk complied with her idea spiritedly, and the two shared an immensely warm smile, then high-fived again. Afterwards, Pidge pointed to another food court up ahead, and the friends hurried along.

Hunk clenched up, however, stopping Pidge in her tracks. “Not this food court,” Hunk wheezed out, shielding the side of his face with his hand and marching right past the food court that held Vrepit Sal’s in it, and Pidge followed suit.

“Santa does all of that in one night?” Coran gasped in disbelief.

Lance reaffirmed Santa Claus’s capabilities, claiming how he just makes sure to stay on track with each time zone while he made his rounds through each chimney. He also reminded the Alteans that Santa was also magic, so if he was running behind schedule, he just slowed time down by a little bit.

“You say that Santa Claus is immortal?” Allura pondered, and Lance nodded to this, saying that the guy had just been old for a very long while. “Shiro also said that he breaks into your house. Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“No, no, Allura! Shiro doesn’t know what he’s talking about- Santa doesn’t need to break into your house because of magic! Plus, he goes down the chimney- burglars break your door open. It’s different,” Lance waved off, flipping his head and causing the fluffy white ball of his had to bob.

Coran observed this and commented, “Where did you get that?”

“I made it,” Lance voiced, smiling in Coran’s direction.

Allura requested that Lance describe the process of gift-giving further as the Cuban boy browsed some statuettes at a kiosk. Lance turned his nose up and revealed that finding gifts was the most complicated aspect of Christmas shopping or Hanukkah shopping. He held a statuette up to Allura’s eyes and asked her, “Do you think Coran would like this?” When Allura looked Coran’s way, Lance quickly corrected himself, “Don’t tell her, Coran! Allura has to figure this out by herself.” Allura, suddenly sweating, reluctantly drawled out an unsure ‘yes.’ “Coran?” Lance signaled for confirmation, and the older Altean smiled brightly and nodded in Allura’s direction. Allura jumped up in celebration, and Lance applauded her. “In a normal situation, you probably wouldn’t have Coran around to confirm whether or not he wanted this, but your intuition proved to be correct. So, you buy this and give it to him as a present. Now, another way to decide whether or not to buy something as a gift is to pay close attention to the recipient’s needs and/or wants. Coran, what’s something that Allura might have wanted in the past that she probably still wants?”

Coran thought hard, taking a moment to consider the recent past for anything Allura was particularly longing for, beside the defeat of the Galra Empire, and Allura smirked at him with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, he snapped and said, “Oh! Something… shiny,” which earned him a gasp and an ‘aw, Coran!’ from Allura.

“Excellent, Coran!” Lance gave a thumbs-up to the Altean, and then he added, “One last thing- You absolutely cannot tell the recipient of the gift what they got. That surprise has to wait until they actually open the present, okay?” His friends nodded in understanding, and Lance finished, “Okay, you’re ready. But first, we still need to find a tree…”

Lance greeted a store worker, politely inquiring about where the trio could acquire a tree of any sort. The worker, giving Lance the most bewildered look, answered him, “Why would you need to buy a tree?” Lance’s shoulders dropped, and he tried again, this time settling for any shops selling bushes, shrubs, or small plants, and the Galra reiterated, “Again, what in the name of Zarkon do you need some plant for? Sorry, kid, but we don’t have any plant life merchants… I mean, if that’s what you’d call ’em.” 

“Um, this is for something very important to my culture,” Lance declared with what was dangerously close to a snarl. “It’s for a sacred holiday- Surely you won’t refuse me service if you understood that?” The worker shrugged, unsure what Lance meant by ‘holiday,’ and left the group, leaving a very vexed Lance fuming.

The red paladin’s arms flew up into the air as he furiously ranted, “NO plant merchants?! What, has space evolved beyond the hobby of gardening?! And just walking away like that too, like a cultural holiday is trivial! This is unbelievable, it can’t be-” Lance rushed over to the nearest map and scrolled through the directories of both levels with frightening comprehension speed, then growled when he found no stores for plant purchasing. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” he squealed, the Santa hat’s ball bouncing every which way. “WE CAN’T HAVE CHRISTMAS WITHOUT A TREE! IT’S, LIKE, CENTRAL TO THE WHOLE IDEA OF CHRISTMAS!!! HOW IS SANTA GOING TO FIND US WITHOUT A TREE TO SIGNAL TO HIM? HE WON’T BE ABLE TO FIND US!”

Both Alteans put their hands on Lance’s shoulders, attempting to calm him, but he refused to stop making a scene. Allura did her best to put on a soothing voice to possibly seduce Lance into a less frustrated state, but even that was ineffective. Coran turned around to tell those staring that there was nothing to see here, but the passersby did not cease their gawking, muttering about the pointlessness of buying a tree.

“LANCE!” Allura hissed, gripping Lance’s arms painfully tight, forcing him to submit. “We will find a tree, I promise you that, just not here. There are certainly planets that we could find the tree that you’re looking for- or, rather that Santa Claus is looking for. Lance, you have to understand… The Galra don’t have much of a regard for nature anymore. In a Galra-owned mall, there’s probably little enthusiasm about gardening.”

Lance huffed, crossed his arms and tossed his head away. “That’s their dumb mistake. First thing when the Galra Empire falls completely, I’m instating a Galra-Tree Reconciliation Initiative.”

Allura giggled and patted his shoulders in apology and endearment, then suggested they just commence their gift-shopping. She claimed that the team would search elsewhere for a Christmas tree, and it would be the best one Lance had ever seen- certainly better than any Galra-provided one. Lance softened his countenance and loosened his posture, complying to the princess’s proposal.

Allura nodded in Coran’s direction, and they strolled toward one another, meeting halfway. “I’ve calmed him down, and since it’s already been roughly a varga, we’re going to split up so we can start looking for gifts to buy right now,” she explained. The princess glanced back at Lance, whom pointed the direction he was going to head out, and she and Coran waved him off. She instantly swung back to Coran, uttering to him, “Keep a close eye on him; I don’t trust him not to get worked up if he doesn’t find the gifts he’s looking for.”

“Shouldn’t you have more faith in him, Princess?” the Altean suggested.

“Under any other circumstances, I would, but…” Allura began.

“He seems a bit of a… perfectionist in this matter?” Coran finished. Allura nodded fearfully, and the older Altean affirmed, “I’ll keep him in my sights while I shop; but just to be clear, I won’t spy on him to find out what gift he’s getting you!”

“Aww!” Allura pouted.