#let me know if I missed any arguments and I will rebuke them

[doomedlemur]

Crowley does not have memory loss.

I very disagree with the Crowley has memory loss from the Fall theory, and I want to enumerate my points.

"He doesn't remember Furfur or Saraqael!" you say. Do you remember everyone you went to high school* with, everyone you ever did group projects with? *or elementary school if you're under 20 He probably worked with a lot of different angels on nebulae, and fought alongside a lot of different demons-to-be in the war. Look at the scene we saw with Aziraphale. You just know she wasn't paying attention to what Aziraphale said his name was and was going to have to ask when they met again. Angel!Crowley has got ADHD hyperfixations and the people around him aren't as interesting. Barely worth acknowledging. Meanwhile, he himself is quite memorable to others. (Not to mention highly-ranked in heaven's hierarchy.) What did Furfur say? "You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat." Who's the more memorable being in that encounter? The (literal?) monkey hopping around jumping on people or whatever poor sod he's hopping on? As someone who stood out in school as a weirdo, I myself have more than once had someone hit me up on Facebook years later acting like we'd been friendly in school, and experienced that exact "??? Who are you?"

He remembers creating gravity. Vaguely, you say? Sure, but it was a long time ago. While all told Crowley and Aziraphale have excellent memories, they are not perfect. See them not able to recall who was responsible for the Reign of Terror only ~200 years ago.

"I helped make that nebula" he also recalls.

Crowley easily recognized the Metatron saying he'd last seen him as a floating head. As an angel with a lot of questions for God, he would have talked to the Metatron all the time before the Fall.

Reiterating above point, in Uz, they remember trying to get through to God to ask their questions.

He knows how to sneak into heaven and remembers his passwords.

He remembers going into battle.

He remembers frightening the cherubs with the threat of Extreme Sanctions.

In Eden, Aziraphale didn't know what name they were going by, so had to ask, but note that Crowley neither asked Aziraphale's name nor did Aziraphale introduce himself. "We've been talking for millions of years," he told Maggie and Nina. Perhaps he was being hyperbolic, but perhaps not. Before "the Beginning" when the Earth itself was created there was an untold amount of time where the angels were all getting things ready and then warring amongst themselves. I think it's clear that one scene we saw was not their only encounter before the Fall, and Crowley remembers his prior acquaintance with Aziraphale. Mightn't he have had some hesitation in approaching the Guardian of the Eastern Gate if he didn't already know him? But no, he slithers right up that wall and starts a conversation with a tone of familiarity.

Again, in Uz, they both acknowledge how they knew each other in heaven.

And finally, if you're thinking of Neil Gaiman saying how Crowley is an unreliable narrator regarding the circumstances of his Fall, everything he says that seems contradictory can be just as easily explained by lies, denial, rationalizations, equivocations, half-truths, etc. At no point does he say he doesn't remember falling or even why it happened. He just laments the injustice of it.

[leviiattacks]

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !! 

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced 

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight 

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Stars Aren’t the Only Things That Glitter

A Drifting Stars AU short, collaborating with @clownwry.

2nd, 3rd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Grunkle Ford, look out!”

“Mabel, stay back!”

BANG!

“Mabel… MABEL! HOLD ON! I’M COMING! MABEL!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel looked at the blazing fire, trying to pretend to ignore her great-uncles muttering so she might pick up a swear word, be it alien or English was perfectly fine by her. Mabel didn’t pick up any swears, but she did hear the words “reckless” and “irresponsible” and “inconceivable”. The Listening Game did a fair job of distracting her from the pain on her arm and shoulder. Except when Grunkle Ford’s bandages were a little too tight and she would wince at the friction on her burn.

Still muttering through his teeth, his eye glued to the injury through his single-cracked glasses, he did it again, pulling on the bandage a little too hard, this time making Mabel accidentally let am “ouch!” slip past her lips. Ford looked up at her and his expression grew softer and more nurturing. “I’m sorry, my dear, but really, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“They were gonna shoot you…”

“I don’t care.” Ford said firmly. “If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to save yourself and leave me behind, you do so.”

“No.”

The nomadic scientist blinked, slightly surprised by her stubbornness. Only slightly surprised, because she is a Pines, after all. But she is a good kid and in the month they had been traveling the Multiverse, she had never outright defied him like this. “Excuse me?” He wasn’t even stern or angry; he was too surprised (and maybe even a little proud) to properly scold her anymore.

“No. That’s stupid.” Mabel answered, her little cheeks puffed up in determination, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the fire, a flame of her own in the windows to her soul. “I’ll never leave you behind. We’re a family, we gotta stick together if we’re gonna survive and get home. We need each other. Besides, if the tables were turned, would you leave me behind?”

“That’s an entirely different matter.” Ford said with a small smile on his ruffed-up face; he resumed his work on the burn more gently now and finished wrapping it up, securing the bandage. “I’m old, I’ve lived my life. You take priority.”

“I don’t care.” Mabel said, copying Ford’s exact tone and voice from earlier. The grown man snorted with amusement.

Ford decided to put this little argument on hold, seeing how there was no changing Mabel’s mind right now. And he didn’t want to spend the entire evening rebuking her. “You did do a very good job disarming those hunters. I’m very proud of you.”

Mabel sat up a little straighter and smiled up at Ford. “Thank you.”

Ford smiled at her and stood, moving to his large backpack to fish out the things for tea and dinner, though it would probably only be dried meat and oats. “I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.”

Mabel’s eyes widened as her world was put on pause. She felt like she was being sucked into a time vortex, transported into a memory.

Grunkle Stan was dusting some zombie parts off of his armchair when Mabel was walking by, leaving the kitchen after giving Soos his cure for zombification. Stan noticed that Mabel looked very tired. He smiled at her from her seat, and Mabel ran up to him and climbed into his lap for a big hug.

“Hey, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.” And he gave her a secure squeeze and Mabel happily hugged him back.

Mabel was shoved back into reality, accompanied by a sinking feeling of loss. She missed Grunkle Stan. She missed Dipper. She missed Waddles, and Soos, and Wendy, and the Shack, and Oregon, and California, and Mom and Dad…

Ford turned back to the fire with a kettle and wire-spider in hand, ready to ask Mabel to fetch some water (she always enjoyed being of assistance), but he stopped when he saw her crying with her eyes shut and wiping her cheeks dry with her wrists. Ford was immediately halted and his priorities shifted drastically. Nothing mattered at this moment but making her feel better.

He was swift. Ford scooped up some water from the clean stream into the kettle, then used the wire-spider to hold the kettle over the fire. Giving the water plenty of time to heat up and steam, Ford gently picked Mabel up from her seat on the log, only to hold her close and let her wrap her arms around his neck. He didn’t say a word, being a social-cripple and having no idea what he could say that would make her feel better, so he stayed silent and was simply there for her.

And really, that was all Mabel needed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the two humans were lucky to come across a small rustic town in the woods, reminding Ford of the small Tennessee-town Fiddleford grew up in. Except of course there were no humans, but blue-skinned elves with pointy years and the occasional centaur.

Ford had stolen a bit of money from a hunter yesterday, which meant they got to restock on supplies and even buy a cheap breakfast at an outside cafe. Sitting at a table under an umbrella, Ford was going over his plan with Mabel while she munched on her sweetly-cooked purple apples tossed in spices and sugar.

“... so once we reach this cavern here, we’ll reach a very interesting town called Flush Valley. I’ve heard it specializes in building mechanical limbs and prosthetics, but it’s surrounded by rich minerals perfect for building, so we can find what we need easily here. There may even be a day-by-day job I can get to earn a bit of money for food and shelter.”

“I can work, too! Daddy always said I was like a French horse!” Mabel added in excitedly.

Ford chuckled. “We’ll see. I would feel more comfortable if you were working so I could keep an eye on you. Moving on,” The old scientist sipped his strange alien coffee, but it contained caffeine and somewhat resembled his home dimension’s coffee taste, so he drank it. “The way there could be crawling with scavengers. A lot of people come to Flush Valley just barely hanging on by a thread, easy targets for hunting and stealing food and supplies. So we need to keep our guard up for the next two days.”

“Okay.” Mabel said, as nonchalantly as if Ford told her to remember to add milk to a grocery list.

Ford gave her a firmer look and added, “So, if we think we’re being followed, what do we do?”

“We pretend we don’t know and we keep walking calmly.” Mabel replied. “We keep our eyes open for a way to lose them, and where the sneaky-peaky spies are.”

“Very good.” Ford smiled at her. “If we decide to try to lose them, what do we do?”

“Run as fast as we can. If I can’t catch up I get on your shoulders and focus on making them go away, while you get us away.”

“Yes, excellent. What do we do if we decide to confront them?”

“I grab by sling-shot and exploding rocks and hit as many guys as I can. I aim for the knees or feet so they fall and can’t shoot us. Oh, and we stand with our backs to each other so we see everything, together.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, if we are surrounded and I find a way to escape, what do you do?”

“Make sure you go in so you can lead the way!” Mabel answered with a grin.

“N-No, honey.” Ford said gently with a smile, as if informing a kindergartner that 1+1=2, not 11. “If I find a way to escape, you go first…”

“No,” Mabel said, still smiling as she shook her head. “You go first so I can make sure you’re coming.”

Ford sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Okay, if I tell you to run, you…”

“I grab your hand and run with you, making sure no one gets lost.”

“Mabel, no.”

“Mabel YES!” The girl grinned with determination. “You’re stuck with me, old man! You can’t get rid of me!”

Ford was getting annoyed at this point. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up slightly, and growled, “I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m trying to save you!”

Mabel gave him a very serious look and questioned, “By leaving me alone out here?”

“No! I-...” But Ford stopped and bit his lip. His niece did have an excellent point. As much as Ford was willing to do anything to keep her safe, as much as Ford was willing to sacrifice his own life for her’s, that really wasn’t a good idea.

There was a good chance Mabel could survive without him, at least until she found a nice family to take her in (or, somehow, miraculously, Stanley opened the portal and brought her home, but Ford didn’t dare to hope for that). But she was so young and inexperienced in the Multiverse. At least when Ford was first thrown into the chaos he was an adult and was accustomed to weirdness thanks to his six years of researching Gravity Falls. Mabel was extremely resourceful, imaginative, intelligent, and clever. She was also stronger and faster than many would assume. But she was too trusting. Too innocent. So, not to belittle Mabel or underestimate her, but she was right; she needed Ford, and as noble as it would be to exchange his life for her’s if it came down to it, that would also be incredibly stupid and only buy Mabel a little more time until she was captured or enslaved or killed or even worse.

And of course, only someone as people-smart and clever as Mabel could make Ford see that.

He sighed tiredly. “O-... Okay.” Mabel smiled proudly at him. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try to be more careful.” Ford promised. “I… I just need you to be safe.”

“Don’t worry, I think we do a pretty good job of keeping each other safe.” Mabel complimented, holding out a bite of her fruit on a fork for Ford.

The old man held up a polite hand and declined, but his stomach turned against him and growled, and Mabel frowned at him, giving Ford a deja vu feeling of his mother forcing him and his brothers to eat their vegetables. So Ford smiled and accepted the sweetly cooked fruit. “Yes, I think so, too.”

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

In Session

This one is a doozy. Warnings: m/f sex, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation, cum eating, use of mutant abilities in a sexual situation. 18+ please!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The three of you have been home for a couple of weeks now and, unfortunately for poor Bucky, the pixie dust has worn off. All Steve has to do is breathe near you and you go off. He has apologized and apologized but you refuse to let it go. Steve tries to be patient with you. He accepts that what he said gutted you. He is trying to make it up to you but you rebuke all of his attempts.

Quite frankly the whole thing gives Bucky anxiety. As soon as he hears “You know what, Steve?” He reaches for the antacids. In two weeks he was leaving for a semi long trip with Sam and Nat. He needed to set you on the path to healing before he left you two alone. That’s why he hijacked you both and brought you to his therapist.

Dr. Coleman is far more gentle than his VA therapist. She specializes in PTSD and has worked with many first responders and members of law enforcement. She also helps couples to reacclimate following traumatic experiences. Bucky thought that, with the amount of trauma the three of you had suffered, she would be perfect to help.

Neither of you were pleased to be there. The doctor spoke ok Bucky’s behalf at the start of the session. “Steve, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. This is an important first step on the path to healing. You are here for each other as much as you are here for yourselves. What we know is the three of you love each other very much. I would like you to keep that in the front of your minds as we go through this journey. I do have a few ground rules. First, we will not raise our voices or become physical here or at home. Second, we will not resort to name calling. Third, we will not shut down when confronted. We will speak on our feelings. Can I gain your agreement on those rules?” You all nodded. “Wonderful. I just need the two of you to sign some consent forms and we’ll be on our way.”

You hated therapists of any kind. You never had a good experience. Grant it, your only experiences were forty something years ago. You were sure there were advances. Still, you were wary of this woman. She does seem to help Bucky. If this is what he needed, you’d do it for him. When she asked Steve to speak first you nearly gagged.

“Steve, tell me why you think we’re all here today.”

He sighed loudly and spoke in a monotone voice like he was in trouble in the principal’s office. “We’re here because our bickering is upsetting Buck.”

“Ok. Can you tell me why you and Y/N have been bickering so much lately?”

“Because he’s impossible to live with.” You said not so under your breath. Steve was quick to react but Dr. Coleman stopped him.

“Y/N, you will have your turn to speak. Please give Steve the courtesy of having his time uninterrupted.” Steve smirked at you. You wanted to reach over and slap him in his smug face but Bucky rested his hand over yours.

“We’re bickering because I said a horrible thing to Y/N and she refuses to forgive me.”

“Right. And what did you say?” Fuck it was like pulling teeth.

“I told her in the heat of an argument that I didn’t want a whore for a wife. But I said I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry. She refuses to move on.”

Dr. Coleman listened to both of your sides and gave you some short term and long term goals. She asked you to open the door for better communication. She understood why you were so upset, especially since his admission was premeditated. She tasked Steve with finding a way to come to terms with what you do. Now that he knows why he feels the way he does, it is time to confront those feelings as his own and stop projecting them onto you. She also suggested that, while Bucky was gone, the two of you should do couple things. Your love was not linked exclusively through Bucky.

The three of you left feeling a little lighter. You made promises to each other and you intended to keep them. The couple of weeks leading up to Bucky’s trip were fine. There was something hanging in the air that made Bucky nervous. Like you two were just waiting for him to leave so you could unload on each other. Steve promised he wouldn’t make faces when you left for your appointments. You promised not to snap at him over every little thing. He didn’t believe either of you.

The night before he left, Steve fell asleep on the couch. You were already in bed half asleep yourself. It was rare when you had alone time. When they were in deep Avengers mode, you cherished your privacy. Maybe it was time to start thinking of getting a bigger place.

Bucky came out of the shower still warm and a little damp. He smelled like cedar and fresh rain. He dropped his towel and slipped under the covers. Compared to him your skin felt cool when you pressed your bare ass against him. “You’re so warm, daddy.”

“I needed that hot shower after the training session Steve and I had. I wore him out.”

“Mmmm. I bet you did. Did you fuck in the gym again?”

His laugh rumbled against your back. “Not this time. Should I go wake him?”

“No. We haven’t had a moment alone since he moved in. This is gonna sound disgusting but I kind of like it when you’re sweet with me.” You didn’t have to say anymore. He slid his hands under your arms to palm your breasts and pressed gentle kisses along your neck and spine. With his knee he parted your legs so he could stroke your warmth. You whined in his mouth when he ran your slick over your clit. He took his time pumping his fingers inside of you coaxing tiny whimpers and moans out of your body. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

You had never called him Jamie during sex until you told him you loved him. His name falling from your lips became his favorite sound. You invoked him like you were invoking God praying for peace. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed his cock bringing you both to your end. “I love you, Jamie.”

“Oh my…I love you too, baby. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He stayed inside of you keeping his spend deep inside of your channel and fell asleep. Sam would be there early.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your calendar was pretty full the first week Bucky was gone. Most of your appointments were during the day. Steve was back and forth between the apartment and compound. You settled into a pleasant routine like a normal couple with typical careers and predictable schedules. You even got through a meeting when a realtor without a single clenched jaw.

“Do you have time for lunch?” He was so hopeful. You promised Bucky.

“Yeah. I think so.” He took your hand and held it all the way to a cute little spot down the street. “I like this neighborhood. Not far from the subway. Walkable.”

“I like it too. I’ve seen a ton of kids out and about.” That made you want to cringe but you held it in. None of you have had the cliche conversation about your futures. Since you were the only one who could bear children, you figured you should speak up.

“Do you want kids?” You kept your eyes on your salad.

“Yeah. I really do. Have you um, been checked out? Can you have children?” God this was awkward.

“I can. I wonder if Hydra has successfully bred a serum baby. Like, it altered our DNA. I wonder what would happen.” His brow furrowed. He really hadn’t thought about that.

“I will have to look into it. That’s something we need to know I guess. Why do we feel so weird around each other?”

“Right?!” You were so glad he felt it too.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” He asked so quiet and quickly that you almost didn’t hear.

“Before I answer that question can I ask a question?” He nodded. “Why are you ok with me having your babies but not being your wife? I know in therapy you said it scared you and you didn’t care for my clients. I get all of that. Those are valid things. I can’t help but think you don’t like the optics.” That was the million dollar question. Could Captain America be out as polyamorous? You felt like Steve might be a closet Republican. Most of the republicans that were your clients were the biggest freaks.

“There’s nothing our media team can’t spin. I’m not embarrassed by you and Buck. My reasons for disliking your job are exactly what I said. I feel like being out about our relationship puts a target on your back.”

“But that’s not what you said, Steve. You said ‘I don’t want a whore for a wife’. That implies something completely different. I like what I do. Those rich assholes and politicians put money in my purse. A lot of my clients are like us. Freaks of nature. They can’t have normal relationships. I help them. I don’t judge their abilities or physical mutations. We just fuck and they feel normal for a while. Like the guy I’m seeing tonight. He just wants to feel normal.”

Steve was quiet for the rest of lunch. You gave him a lot to think about. He had no idea you saw yourself as a freak of nature or that you saw him that way. Everyone celebrated what Steve was but essentially threw you away. The people on your client list who he saw as villains have been tossed out by the society he swore to protect. He guessed he jumped the shark a bit by even bringing up marriage. Not like you were there yet.

You and Bucky seemed to have a don’t ask don’t tell policy regarding your situation. That was not Steve. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew without a doubt that you were safe. Tonight he will follow you. If he ever wanted to move passed his own feelings, he had to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight you were seeing Erik Lensherr which meant you had to be prepared for anything. He never beat you like other idiots did. He wasn’t stupid. Why hit you when it doesn’t hurt? He liked to really bring you to the brink of pain with pleasure. Sometimes he edged you for hours. He loved when you were a drooling sobbing mess begging for relief. That’s what turned him on. After sessions with him, you always took the following day off.

You and Steve had dinner together. You were both much more relaxed. He sat in the bathroom while you got ready. You picked a dress and made sure to have lots of mascara on. Mascara tears were Erik’s favorite. While you put on your jewelry, he stood behind you and kissed your shoulders. You missed his touch. You leaned in and let him put his hands on you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” he said against the back of your neck.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? We can stay in bed all day.”

He smiled that beautiful sunshine smile at you that made your insides liquid. “Really? Does that mean you forgive me?”

You giggled, “No. It means I want to get reacquainted. Forgiveness is not so easy for me. Maybe if you ever put a ring on it, I’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll take it. Will you be out late?” He kissed his way down your neck.

“I’m not really sure. If I know I won’t be coming home I’ll text you. I wouldn’t wait up.” You allowed him to really kiss you. My lord Steve Rogers is an amazing kisser. He is confident and strong in his movements. He kisses with his whole body. Hands roam your back and and shoulders while he presses your body into his. His eyes barely close, making his lashes flutter on the tops of his cheeks. And he softly moans which drives you crazy. Well, at least Erik won’t have to warm you up.

“I love you. Be safe. Call me if absolutely anything is off. Promise.”

“Yes, sir. I love you, too.”

He gave you a thirty second head start before he followed you on his bike. You met Erik at a beautiful brownstone. He held the door for you and kissed both of your cheeks. Steve saw him pour you a drink and direct you to the sofa by the small of your back. You looked comfortable enough. It was clear the two of you were friends. Then, he sat next to you. His movements became predatory. He always kept his hands on you.

Soon he was taking your drink and leading you up the stairs. It was the moment of truth. He could walk away satisfied that you were safe or climb the fire escape to watch. The thought of seeing you in flagrante was turning him on way more than he should have been. Option B it was.

He climbed to the second story where he sat stock still in a darkened corner. The window was cracked a bit so he could hear everything.

The two of you kissed passionately. Erik’s hands found your zipper and made quick work of shedding your dress. He pushed you to the bed which was decorated by an ornate metal head and footboard. He raised his hand and part of the bed broke off bending around your wrists to bind you.

“Too tight, Princess?”

“No, sir.” Next he attached a spreader bar to your ankles springing your legs open wide. “Color?”

“Green.” Your voice was steady but your breath was heaving in your chest. Steve wondered if it was nerves or excitement.

Erik knelt beside you and stroked your face. “How many times shall I make my Princess cum tonight hmm? Shall we try for six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He produced a string of metal balls from his pocket and popped them one by one into your mouth. His lips were on yours again. His tongue moved the balls around your mouth clacking them on your teeth. When he was satisfied with their saturation he pried your mouth open with his thumb and removed them. He parted your folds and sunk the balls into your dripping hole one by one. His fingers danced swirling the orbs inside of your cunt. Your back arched off the bed. “Does that feel good, Princess?”

“Yes , sir. So good.”

“Excellent. Princess, I want you to count out loud each time you come. I will edge you for one hour if I don’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, sir.” The coil in your belly was building. Erik smiled down on your writhing body. You tried to bring your thighs together but the bar was made of steel. Unless you focused you couldn’t break it.

“Look at you. I bet if I touched you even a little you would cum.” He ran his index finger lightly over your clit and you fell apart.

“One! Oh my…one.” You moaned and that beautiful sound went right to Steve’s cock. He stroked himself outside of his pants at first. He wanted to last as long as you. It would be difficult.

“Good girl. That’s my good, Princess. Doing so well.”

He kept the balls swirling while he licked a stripe up your cunt. His lips closed over your clit. Your hips bucked wildly against his face. You threw your head back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! Two!”

He pressed the pads of his fingers over your clit and rubbed furiously. “Three” you whimpered.

He smacked your pussy hard. “Didn’t hear you, love.”

“Three, sir.”

“You getting tired on me? You have three more. Color, darling.”

“Green, sir.”

“Oooh. She’s being a warrior tonight. Give me one more in my mouth and I’ll take two on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to licking your snatch. You were sonsensitive. His big hands held you still while he licked and nibbled. Steve leaned on the railing panting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unsheathed his throbbing member and wrapped it tight in his fist.

You got to four and tears started streaking your face. Erik pulled out the balls and tossed them aside. You mewled at the emptiness in your pussy. Erik undressed. When his cock was free he ran the leaking tip around the hole pushing in ever so slightly. The stretch made you cry out.

“So wet for me. You’re leaking and I haven’t even pushed all the way in. Do you want more?” You nodded so he pulled away. “Use your words or you won’t get to cum.”

“More please, sir. I need it.” He slammed into you letting his pelvis hit your clit hard.

“Was that five, my darling?”

“N…no, sir. M’so close.”

“Give it to me.” His hips pumped faster and faster. You screamed and nearly arched yourself in half.

“Fiiiiive. Yellow, sir.”

“Oh you feel so good around my cock. One more and then I’ll paint your belly and tits.”

Steve pumped his fist in time with Erik’s hips. When you came the sixth time, so did he. Hot ropes of cum dribbled onto his hand. He kept stroking while Erik finished.

“Think you can go for seven? It would make me so proud.” You were much too sensitive.

“Red! Red red red.” Erik pulled out immediately and jerked himself all over your belly and breasts. Out of breath he fell over onto the bed next to you. You looked wrecked. With a wave of his hand your wrists were free. He undid the spreader and kissed you deeply.

“Water, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” He brought you a glass and held it to your lips. He tossed you your dress. You didn’t clean yourself up. That was part of the scene. You went home still sticky with his cum. Steve was feral at the thought of licking another man’s seed off of you. He made it down and onto his bike before you got to the door.

You took your payment and kissed Erik goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve made it into the house moments before you. He changed his clothes and acted like he had been home all night. His heart thumped loud in his ears when he heard your keys in the door.

“Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early.” You patted him on the head as you limped into the bathroom.

“Need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” The thought of cumming again nearly made you cry.

“Yes, but only to shower.” He jumped up and followed you. You shook out your hair and went to unzip your dress but his hands were there already.

“You look so pretty right now. All fucked out. You were such a good girl tonight.” Every nerve in your body prickled. He kissed down your neck and the top of your spine.

“Steve, did you follow me?” Your voice was low. Your expression unreadable.

“Are you mad? I just wanted peace of mind. I got a lot more than that. I’m not saying I’ll be ok every time. But, if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking about licking that cum off of you.” Your whole body went warm. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips as you edged down your dress.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet boy?”

“Mmm. Very much.”

“Did you make yourself cum watching us?”

“I did.” He ground his hard cock into your ass cheek.

“I’m so sticky. Clean me up before we shower.” He knelt in front of you and licked all of the dried cum off of your belly. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“I need to be inside of you so bad. Please can I fuck you?”

“Please fuck me, Steve.”’ He brought you into the shower and soaped you up. After the two of you were clean he kissed you fiercely. He lifted your hips and drove into you. “I can’t wait until Jamie gets home so I can tie you to the chair while he fucks my brains out. Wanna watch Jamie fuck me, sweet boy?” He moaned loudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna watch him pound this pretty pussy.” It wasn’t long before you both lost it.

You got into bed and stretched out on his chest. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea I would like that.”

You giggled, “We learn something new about ourselves every day.” You both completely passed out.

The next morning Bucky got home early. He was shocked that Steve wasn’t already up. He found the two of you sleeping soundly. He nearly cried at how content you were. Steve opened his eyes and pressed his finger to his lips. Bucky got undressed and crawled in behind you. He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and laid an arm across your back. He and Steve laced their fingers together.

“Did you make up?” He whispered.

“Something like that. It’s a long story.” You stirred a little.

“Jamie?”

“I’m home, baby doll. Go back to sleep.” He kissed you again and pulled the covers over you.

“K. Steve’s a kinky freak.” You buried your face into Steve to shield you from the sun streaming in from the curtains.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled. Steve kept his eyes closed. “What the fuck happened?”

“Get some sleep. I promise we’ll show you later.” He kissed the back of Bucky’s hand and fell back to sleep. Bucky forced himself to close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen but he couldn’t wait to find out.

[lorirwritesfanfic]

What Could Have Been

Author's note: Back in March, @playchoicespodcast​​ made this suggestion about a Colt x Logan and I wrote this piece. It took me forever, given how confident I feel about writing Colt and mlm pairings, but I finished it. This is my last work to @rodappreciationweek​​ extended submissions. Thank you all for hosting it one last time. Btw, If I missed the deadline, you can totally ignore it. [Leading characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios and original characters are creations of this author] Book: Ride Or Die Pairing: Colt Kaneko x Logan Rating: E Word count: 1705 Reading time: ~7min Summary: Two years have passed, yet Colt can’t stop thinking about opportunities he missed in the past.

July 2021

Colt stretches his arms on the bed, then crosses them behind his head and looks out the window. As the moonlight seeps through the curtains when the wind blows, he heaves a sigh. Only a handful of things bring him as much pleasure as basking in the afterglow, but when it’s combined to a calm night, there's nothing like it.

His eyes dart to the random girl he hooked up with as she shifts to the side and places one of her hands over his torso. He looks down at the large hand, then at her. Despite the manicured nails and properly moisturized palms, it has some small scars and calluses. Her long fingers move and down slowly, making Colt remember a different time when a hand like hers rested on his chest.

November 2019

"Yep. Colt is taller," Toby confirms as he puts the measuring tape down and turns to the other members of MPC.

"I knew it." A smug grin spreads on Colt's lips as he brushes past Logan and returns to his seat.

"It's literally one inch," Logan rebukes.

"I'm still taller than you."

Logan gives him a side glance then looks at everyone else. "Anyway, are we going to keep listening to Mr. Know-it-all here or will someone fix the leaking in the attic?"

"I don't fit in there. I'd have to crouch down just to go through the bathroom door and I still gotta drop by at Kelso's to get dinner ready," Ximena says.

"I have the cars to fix for tomorrow's delivery and Mona is gonna help me," Toby adds.

"And I don't know a thing about plumbing." Mona shrugs.

Everyone stares at her in surprise.

"What? It's not like it's the same as fixing cars. Besides, it was your idea not to call a plumber, Junior. I never agreed to that." She gives Colt a knowing look.

He rolls eyes. He did say he could fix it, even though he never did it. But when Logan walked in and said he knew a thing or two about plumbing, somehow the whole thing went from doubting his skills, escalated to insults and stopped at who's shorter enough to fit into the tiny bathroom in the attic. He isn't quite sure why anything related to Logan bothers him so much. He just couldn't let him win an argument.

"Then let Colt fix it. He was the one who said fixing a sink must be easy if a numbskull like me can do it," Logan retorts as a corner of his mouth lifted upwards discreetly.

Ugh... He hates that smile so much. But he can't admit he's wrong in front of him. He just can't.

"Okay," Toby replies.

"Huh?!" He stops himself from talking too much and giving any clues of how uneasy he suddenly feels now.

"Well, you did say that and you're right about not having strangers around whenever we have a big delivery," Ximena adds.

"I guess it's settled." Logan stands up, heads to the door and looks over his shoulder with a smirk to say, "Good luck, Junior."

Soon, everyone else follows, leaving Colt alone with the tool box. He closes his eyes, curses under his breath and picks up his phone to research about fixing a sink. There's nothing nowadays that Google doesn't know, right?

After reading a bunch of DIY videos, Colt takes the tool box and heads to the stairs that lead to the attic. He walks in the bathroom and analyzes the leaking.

"Okay... It doesn't look so bad," he mumbles, putting down the tool box nearby.

Following all the instructions, he starts by going through all the safety measures then proceeds to remove parts of the faucet. It does look easy enough...

But as he removes the brass screw holding the stem washer in place, a jet of cold water hits his face and torso. "Goddamnit!" He snarls, staggering back.

With his vision still a little blurry, he spots a male figure stepping into the bathroom and shutting off the water. The person then starts to work on the faucet without saying a word. When the leaking stops and he finally gets a clear view again, his jaw clenches and lips settle in a thin hard line. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me...

"Go get changed. I can take it from here," Logan says as he grabs a small cloth and starts cleaning a few parts of the faucet.

"No."

“Dude, someone’s gotta fix this sink.”

“I said no!”

"Can you not be a dickhead for once and accept help when you need it? This can damage the whole building if the leaking isn't fixed fast and the floor remains wet for too long!"

Colt closes his eyes and inhales sharply. This is one of those moments he wants so bad to lash out or punch something. His face, preferably. However, this is his family's building, a huge part of his legacy. He can't mess it up when his father left him in charge while Kaneko is out handling businesses. And against his own will, he does as he's told.

Once he puts on some dry clothes, he goes to the kitchen. After picking up two floor mops and buckets, he heads back to the attic. To his surprise, he finds Logan already testing the faucet and it works. Flawlessly. Uuuuugh!!! Biting back a nasty comment, he walks into the bathroom when Logan notices his presence.

"You fixed it."

"Yeah. Now we need to clean this mess."

He then lifts up the buckets and floor mops. "Let's get started."

The two work in silence for a few minutes, wiping the floor as best and fast as possible. He can't say this situation feels uncomfortable. But it's a little unsettling. At least for him.

Colt looks at Logan from the corner of an eye and watches him apply the disinfectant on the floor. With his shirt still wet from the water jet, the white fabric glued to his torso gives Colt a good view of Logan's chest and chiseled abs. His powerful arms work at a steady pace. The pearls of sweat run down his temple, make a path down to his neck and disappear into the damp shirt. Still, he seems relaxed. It almost looks like he isn't bothered at all with the boring house chore.

"You really think it's gonna ruin the floor?"

"No. It's almost dry. But I need to use the wet vacuum cleaner one more time," Logan replies without stopping what he’s doing.

"Cool..." Colt nods.

More silence. And again, he just can't stay quiet.

"Where did you learn about plumbing?"

"Foster family's house. One of the carers was a plumber. Are you wondering why the videos you watched didn't work?" Logan glances at him.

"I would've fixed it eventually," he protests.

"Suuuure..." A ghost of a smile plays on Logan's lips.

Colt glares at him only to spot a grin spreading from ear to ear. Oh my goooood! He’s so annoying. Bet he only gets laid because of the pretty package.

"We're done here. Let's just vacuum this area again and we're good to go."

When Logan starts vacuuming again, Colt steals a few glances. He really isn't that bad when he's not talking, huh? As Logan bends over a little, Colt tilts his head to the side, analyzing the other guy's backside. Not bad at all.

"Like what you see, Junior?" Logan taunts.

Only when you keep your mouth shut... "You wish..." He scoffs.

Logan shakes his head and chuckles.

Ugh... What the heck did Ellie see on this guy?

"Done." Logan straightens up his posture, turns off the wet vacuum and looks at Colt again. "We should leave everything open here for a few days so the air can circulate, maybe get a fan..."

Colt then gets another view of Logan's torso. Maybe not as clear as it was before, since the shirt is no longer glued to his ripped muscles. The six pack. Definitely the six pack. "I'll get that later."

"I'll go back to my loft, take a shower and change clothes. Call me if you need help with anything."

"Okay..." He nods absentmindedly. What is it that I can't stop staring at him? Geez!

"My eyes are up here, you know," Logan teases.

"Oh, get over yourself! You're not even that pretty. Besides..." He moves closer to Logan and squares his shoulders. "I prefer tall guys."

"That's too bad..." Logan says, closing the distance between them until they're a breath away from each other. "I was going to invite you to join me in the shower," he whispers as his hands rest on Colt's chest for a few seconds before it roams down and stops at the waistband of his pants. "Guess I'll just find someone else to distract myself with."

Goosebumps spread along his skin as Colt watches Logan's fingers move up and hold his chin, thumb playing with his bottom lip.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"Fuck off..." Colt hisses.

Logan smirks and walks away.

Colt turns around and scowls. "What an asshole," he grumbles as he gathers everything to leave the room.

As he passes by Logan's door, Colt stops and hears the shower. His eyes land on the door knob. Is this a bad idea? He was going to invite me anyway... But when his hand hovers the door, he hears footsteps and keeps walking.

"Yup. Bad idea."

July 2021

Colt's forefinger draws imaginary shapes on the girl's skin as he muses about that night. Would he really have gone through with it if he didn't hear those footsteps? What would they do? Would they just get each other off or would they go further? Is he a bottom? Switch? Hm... I haven't been a bottom in a while...

Just then, the girl's eyes flutter open.

"Hey."

"Hey..."

"Can't sleep?"

"You could say that again."

"That must suck." She makes a face. "Is there anything I can do to— Oh!" She grins mischievously once she feels his hard-on. "Do you need help with that?"

He gazes at her lips and smirks. "I do. Wanna go down there and solve my problem?"

The girl promptly climbs down on him and takes his manhood in her mouth.

Colt closes his eyes and groans. He may have avoided to get involved with Logan that night. But maybe it wouldn't kill him to picture how it would have been.

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay Chapter 20: Family friend

Summary: Leonardo calls a family friend in to help assess Mikey

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr @ilo-artistry @dakotafinely

Content warning: mild swearing

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Leo’s knock and voice snapped Leonardo out of his daze. The teen blinked first, and then shook his head to rattle his thoughts back into place.

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.” Leo said, coming further into Leonardo’s room.

“Not at all.” Leonardo lied, because he did mind the intrusion in his personal space but he wasn’t going to say that! Besides, this face was exactly the one he had been planning to seek out. “But I’ll have you know my thoughts cost no less than a dollar a piece, I know my worth.”

Leo sat on the bed and it gave a loud groan under the strain of his weight; the leader snorted a forced laugh through his nose and shook his head.

“I think I’ll have to pass, thanks.”

“He’s fine.” Said Leonardo.

Leo blinked, cocking his head. “Pardon?”

“You came here to ask about your father, right?” Leonardo asked. “He’s fine, stable and resting. We’ll know more when he wakes.”

“Is it advisable to leave him alone?”

“Your Raph’s sitting in with him. Figured he'd appreciate seeing a familiar face when he wakes up and not this.” Leonardo motioned to his face. “As beautifully handsome as it is, it’s not his son.”

“Right.” Leo nodded. The box turtle had picked up on Leonardo’s lie of not minding his presence and was quick to try and justify himself.  “Well, I just noticed you in here alone looking like you just kicked a puppy, so I figured I’d check on you. I— I can go.”

“No.” Leonardo grabbed Leo’s hand to stop any escape. “Don’t go. I was actually wanting to talk with you.”

Leo sat back down. “You have my full attention.”

“With all this stuff going on, your dad and… and that dino dude and… and Mikey…and I mean, there’s only so much me and Donnie can do. We— we’re not trained physicians by any means and we don’t have all the medicines and equipment that one might need to treat him—“

“What are you saying?” Leo prompted Leonardo to just get to the point.

“I was just considering that it could be beneficial to start looking into more… mystic solutions.”

“Mystic— like, like those Yokai in the Hidden City— like, Draxum?”

“I take dad to them all the time! And I know mutants and yokai are like, waaay different, but there are a few younger doctors who are learning experimental procedures to specialize in mutant care!”

“Key word being experimental?” Leonardo’s words left a bad taste on Leo’s tongue.

“Everything’s experimental before its effective— mutants haven’t even been around a decade yet. The work they do is surprisingly advanced for such a short period!” Leonardo argued

“You’re suggesting using Mikey as an experiment?” Every sense of protective nature surged through Leo in that moment, eyes of ice boring into Leonardo’s sapphire and ruby one.

“No, I’m suggesting we take him to someone better equipped to handle him. Someone more… familiar with seizures. Donnie and I are just making stuff up as we go along, and that’s not what's best for Mikey…”

“If you’re not qualified to help him, how could you possibly be qualified to state any opinion on the matter?” Leo crossed his arms, “You’re your team's medic! You're supposed to heal, so heal him!”

Leonardo only smiled his dumb smile and rested his head on his hand. “You’re not very bright, are you?”

“What?” Came Leo’s bitter response.

“I am a medic, and in my humble medical opinion, he needs someone better than me! Two seizures in two days can’t be good, not for a person and not for a mutant. Just think for a second what would be best for your brother.”

“Are you accusing me of not thinking about that?” Leo let his perfect white teeth show a sharp threat. “Mikey is fine where he is!”

Leonardo’s eyes turned cool, like a layer of soft mist had laid over them and softened his voice several degrees until it came out like a gentle winter sound. “Are you willing to risk Mikey’s life for it?”

Leo felt his blood run cold, the collected chi inside him shattering and dissipating to the farthest reaches of his form. His throat was too dry, even to swallow, and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Leonardo knew in that moment he was victorious, for he leaned forward and entwined his fingers together, his smug smile not near as perfect as Leo’s, but just as confident.

“Fine.” Leo’s bitter relent came, “Call a specialist.”

“I got one on speed dial.”

Leo deadpanned. “Is it Baron Draxum?”

“N-no!” Leonardo lied, then immediately said, “It’s Baron Draxum.”

***

“Hm.” Baron Draxum mused as he looked over Mikey. The entire Clan was gathered in the infirmary, apparently too close for the faun’s liking because in the next breath he said, “Could I please get some peace and quiet?”

“We’re… not talking.” Raph pointed out, and nobody moved.

“I meant that as a polite way of asking you all to leave me alone.” Draxum said slow and sharp, like he was talking to a dense wall.

“Like hell we’re leaving you alone with him!” Leo snarled, and there was a determined chorus of agreement from his brothers.

“Why, do you not trust me?”

Draxum turned his full attention to the rest of the Splinterson family, his lips pulling back in a sneer. He started to walk ever so slowly around the beds of the infirmary, dragging hooved hands across the beds holding Mikey, who was disgruntled at being forced into another exam, and Splinter who still sleeping off his trauma. Draxum’s hands traced over Mikey’s arms and Mikey winced and pulled away as if the fingers were knives. As Draxum circled around to do the same to Splinter, who in his unconscious state couldn’t retreat, Raph stepped forward with both hands on his sai, ready to gouge and destroy.

“Draxum, cut it out!” Michelangelo scolded, hand on his hip and cheeks puffed out like a middle aged grandmother scolding her grown child.

Draxum rolled his eyes, but gave into grandmother Michelangelo’s demands and stopped his slow taunting walk. Raph returned his sai to their holsters, but kept forest eyes fixed on the yokai menace.

“I still say some privacy would be preferable for my assessment. I don’t do well in a crowd.”

“Why did it have to be him, again?” Leo asked in a sharp and bitter voice as he motioned to the faun who couldn’t appear more bored if he tried.

“Draxum’s a family friend— we trust him!” Raphael tried to reassure everyone, including himself.

“But I don’t.” Leo said simply. “Not around my brother alone…”

“Leo, I’m fine!” Mikey complained, “Honestly, you’re all making a big deal out of nothing!”

“A seizure isn’t ‘nothing’ Mikey.” Donnie sighed and shook his head.

“And nothing is exactly what I can do if you keep crowding me.” Draxum’s vine snared around Donnie’s belt to pull him away from Mikey’s bedside, much to the ire of the box turtle.

“How about this?” Leonardo interrupted before another argument could break out, “Leo, why don’t you stay here with Mikey while we take Donnie and Raph on tonight’s patrol? We missed last night’s, we can’t miss another.”

“Yeah!” Raphael immediately agreed, but louder, stealing the show and the attention from his younger brother. “That’s a great idea, Leo. We should get ready to do that now, actually.”

“Raph, Donnie.” Leo said, nodding to them as he addressed them. “You heard the snapper. Suit up.”

Donnie was quick to rise and obey, eyes on Mikey until the very last second when he left the room. Raph didn't move from Mikey’s side.

“Raph.” Leo said again, this time louder.

“I’m not leaving him.” Raph’s voice was low. He tightened his grip.

“I wasn’t asking.” Came Leo’s sharp retort. “Raphael asked you to go on patrol with him, and I told you to suit up.”

“It’s okay Raphie!” Mikey said, and he knew he could get away with it; Raph wouldn’t rebuke him when he was in a med bed after all! “Go knock some heads in and chill. I’ll be fine!”

Raph shook his head and clicked his tongue but his eyes held nothing but playful mischief. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“Duh!” Mikey slung a lazy arm around Raph to hug him one last time before giving him a push to start him on leaving the room.

When the entire group was finally ready to depart some five minutes later, it was Raphael who put a delay on their plans. It seemed the minute they were about to leave, he had a million and one things he needed to say.

“April’s here to help you if you have any questions.” Raphael said, practically doting over Leo like he was one of his younger siblings.

“Understood.” Was Leo’s simple response.

“And— and there’s some pizza you can make if you get hungry— if dad complains about being hungry, you can make him a snack but no big meals until breakfast. Leo likes to keep close eyes on his calories. Dad really likes the sweet stuff, so make sure it’s sugary.”

“Will do.” Leo nodded.

“But if you do get him a snack, make sure you mark down how much he eats so we can adjust his intake, otherwise we’ll be all thrown out of wack.”

“Alright.” Leo couldn’t help but smile at Raphael’s anxious rantings.

“Oh, and he— he goes to bed at twelve, could you just make double sure that his door alarm is set?”

“Raph.” Leonardo grabbed Raphael by the arm.

“It gives a little ring whenever it’s opened so he can’t wander off…”

“Raph.” Leonardo’s patience was weining.

“And make sure you get him up at four for a bathroom break or else he’ll have an accident. And sometimes he has trouble sleeping—“

“RAPH.” Leonardo reached up and grabbed Raphael by the cheeks, dragging the snappers head down to his level. “They’ll be fine. Draxum and April are here with them.”

“I know…” Raphael said and his words came out a low whisper. Still he didn't move.

“Come on.” Leonardo said and he didn't give Raphael a choice in the matter. He yanked and yanked on Raphael until the turtle relented and followed after him, and when Raphael tried to look back and add one last thing, Leonardo only tugged harder. “We’ll be back before sunrise.”

Leo only nodded and waved as the two mutants disappeared after the rest of the patrol, and for a long moment Leo couldn’t help but think that it was Leonardo doing the leading...

[sweetestlamb]

Lighting Up Your World Part 2

Episode 18 

Author’s notes: THANK YOU!!!!!  I’ll start there, thank you guys for your overwhelming support on part 1 that I posted yesterday. You guys make me feel like such a great writer, hearing that some of you cried because of something I wrote. incredible. This part is shorter because I was a bit strapped for time and I scrapped  a vast amount the original version I had because I got new ideas and I just didn’t feel like the other version was enough or had the feeling I wanted. Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoy Part 2 aka Episode 18. Tell me your favorite line in the comments, I just think that would be cute hehe lol. *Plays “Lighting Up Your World”  ♫ ♫

He remembers the exact moment that he purchased the ring, its sparkling brilliance from under the glass display, he imagined it sitting on her dainty fingers taking the place of her many other decorative rings. He imagined her face has he placed it on her finger. The store associate had wondered over to him with a knowing smile on his face, as if he knew that look very well, had seen it on the lovesick faces of countless men. After a few minutes of rapid questioning, he walked out with the precious stone in his possession, nerves shooting up and down his veins until he felt like a ball of anxiety.  The ring heavy as lead in his pocket as he staggered home in a daze, in disbelief at what he'd done.

When he had come home to the castle, he could feel the ring burning a hole through the pocket of his jeans. His heart pattering away, erratic in his chest. He avoided eye contact with Mun-yeong as she greeted him at the door, candied smile welcoming home as she eagerly pulling him into the house demanding that he play with her. 

She hadn’t been amused by his suggestion of cards.

Viciously pushing him in the wall and latching onto his neck like a leech. Hours later, he stumbled out of bed panting as he stealthily hid the box in the bottom of his drawer,covering it with mounds of clothes before tiptoeing into his bed alongside his brother dreaming of Mun-yeong in pristine white walking down an aisle that was laden with soft pink rose petals that matched the hue of her lips. He woke up saying "I do." Relieved that his brother was a relatively deep sleeper and hadn't heard his slip of tongue.

The sounds of nature, birds chirping and the wind rustling leaves pulled him from the sandman's hold, as he blinked awake, rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Immediately he noticed the lack of pressure on his arm, too light without her head cushioned on his bicep as she used him as her personal pillow. He had long stopped trying to get her to use a pillow, she was adamant that his arms were a perfect substitute. A wave of pride blossomed in his chest every time she would stroke a finger across the bulging muscle, humming in approval, openly appreciating his body.

Stumbling to the bathroom he groggily brushes his teeth before hopping in the shower to wash off the sweat that lingered from being pressed against her flesh all night. After changing into his outfit, another t-shirt and jeans with sneakers, he’s a creature of habit. He walks out of the camping can eyes scouting for his missing girlfriend before finding her over the open grill, poking at the meat she's grilling, tongue poking out slightly as she impatiently waits for their tenderness.

What he doesn't expect to see is a little helper on her side, Min-jo, sits in the chair right next to her, eagerly watching the meat as it grills, babbling away at Mun-yeong, who for the most part looks content in the child's presence.

"How do I pick the people I put in my family?" Her innocent voice lifts with curiosity as she peers up at Mun-yeong, eyes shining brightly with young hope and naivete. "What age will I be ready to choose my family?"

With a sigh he watches Mun-yeong bring a slightly underdone piece of beef to her mouth, she's always too impatient to wait for food to reach its necessary temperature for consumption, higher internal heat his ass. The juices from the meat run down the side of her mouth, and he's left feeling like he's watching a lioness in the wild, lethal and it is majestic.

"Didn't I already tell you to stop following me? I don't have any answers for you." She dismissively responds, looking exasperated clearly this isn't her first time hearing and rebuking this question.

He coughs to announce his arrival, watching both their eyes snap up to settle on him, one pair with adoration the other disinterest then glee. 

Min-jo greets him first, "Hi, Mr.Prince!" She waves enthusiastically at him, little hand looking like it could take flight at any moment, he blushes at his new moniker, glaring at Mun-yeong who smirks at the intended response.

"You don't need to call me that, remember I told you my name." He answers sheepishly rubbing his neck.

"But Ms. Witch told me that you and your brother, who is an illustrator saved her from her castle and then you lived happily ever after. I never knew that princes could save witches." She says the last sentence with pure wonder, sighing softly.

"Only if they're pretty princes just can't resist a pretty witch. They follow them wherever they go." Mun-yeong teasingly eyed him, images of young Gang-tae happily trailing after a dispassionate Mun-yeong playing out in both of their memories.

"Well I didn't exactly save her from the castle, I just lived there with her. Together, we made it happier. We became a family and a family has to live together, so they can lean on each other and not do pointless work." Mun-yeong scoffs at his reminder of Sang-tae's story, rolling her eyes affectionately at him.

"That sounds nice. And now you live on a house on wheels. I've never seen one before." She eyes the camping van, as he approaches them taking the last chair, on the left with Mun-yeong in the center.

"How long have you two been here?"

"This brat came here an hour ago, I keep telling her to go away but she won't listen. " She hands his a bowl of food and he notes with barely concealed amusement that a smaller bowl is aggressively placed in Min-jo's grasping hands.

"Thank you Miss Witch!" Min-jo chirps sweetly, scarfing down the food without another word.

Mun-yeong watches her before devouring her own food, her leg brushing against his when she sways into his body heat, a morning chill lingering in the air, as he glances at her and notices that she is wearing a short cotton romper, soft blue with white speckles splashed across the material. Drastic shift from yesterday's funeral best, he smiles at the implications. He wraps an arm around her shoulder drawing her into his heat, her hum of satisfaction rumbling through his body.

Min-jo's chopsticks clink on the bowl as she asks, "If you two share a brother, does that mean you are brother and sister?" His cheeks redden at the inquisitive child.

"No. He's my boyfriend, we share his brother."

"Oh." She easily accepts before adding to his embarrassment, "What do you do with a boyfriend?"

He whips his head to stare at Mun-yeong willing her not to ruin the innocence of a child, she looks back at him with a straight face before answering, "Well a lot of fun things. Sometimes we kiss, he likes that a lot and sometimes we even--"

"Yah!" He pinches her arm, hard.

She slaps him in retaliation, pouting as she soothes her pained skin, "I was going to say hug and hold hands. Why did you pinch me?"

He doesn't believe her for one second, her filter non-existent indiscriminate of the audience.

He glares at her until she resumes eating her food, ignoring the rest of Min-jo’s constant stream of questions. If she kept this up she could be an adept detective. 

Entertaining a child has never been a task he's been troubled with before and he worries his lip as he looks at the little girl bouncing in her chair with unfiltered glee. They’d made the mistake of feeding her and now she had a boundless amount of energy, unable to keep still for even a moment. 

"What should we do now Miss Witch?"

"I'm not here to entertain you. And he's my toy so you can't play with him." She juts her thumb in his direction, he admonishes at her statement arguing that he is not a toy. She nods unconvincingly as if his arguments are futile and she has already made up her mind.

"I'm bored." Min-jo continues, ignoring them. 

"Then leave."

"But I don't want to." She whines. 

"Then make your own fun."

Their bickering reminds him so much of Mun-yeong and Sang-tae tears prickle in his eyes as he decides to check on his brother. It's been two days since his abrupt departure, the longest they've been without each other. He softly announces that he'll her right back before disappearing into the van, their rising voices following him each step of the way.

I'm fine. I'm working and drawing. Stop worrying, have fun with Mun-yeong. Remember a kiss is better than a fight.

The highlights of his conversation with his older brother, who had answered on his third ring, rushing him off the phone because he was quote, "very booked and busy", he really needed to stop Mun-yeong from teaching his hyung her ridiculous slang. Especially phrases like that, that even he couldn't decipher. He had hummed along as if he wasn't completely lost before bidding Sang-tae goodbye.

He took a moment for himself before rejoining them outside, letting his brother's voice wash over him. He knew their relationship had a tinge of codependency but hadn't realized to what extent until their separation. This was good for them. Healthy. He knew that now.

It just hurt a little right now, but that was okay. Pain wasn't permanent.

The sounds of water splashing hit his ear drums as he jumps off the last step of the camping van, as if on autopilot he rushes to the lake, cold chill on his skin as he searches for Mun-yeong.

She stands on the bank of the lake. Safely out of reach, watching as Min-jo flaps her little arms wildly keeping herself afloat. She is helped by the presence of bright pink floaties on her arms, buoying her onto the surface of the wet escape.

"Can you come in the water Miss Witch?"

He watches Mun-yeong gaze at the water, fear bleeding into her irises before she blinks it away. Brief and clipped response, "No."

There is a pregnant pause, before the child continues, "Are witches afraid of water?"

Mun-yeong's eyes are cold as she looks at Min-jo, he watches the interaction enraptured in this achingly honest conversation encrypted in their own language.

"Yes."

He's releases a breath he didn't know he was hiding. Watching Min-jo nod at her response, "That's okay. Everyone is scared of something. I'm scared of being alone. But you said when I'm older I can find a family. Maybe one day you'll find a way to be in the water." She says it matter of fact, like she has no doubt that Mun-yeong will conquer this fear. 

The sun is no longer as high in the sky and the skyline begins to swirl into hues of pink, orange and yellow. Like a mad painter dragged their unwashed paintbrush across the surface. 

"I think it's time we took you back." His voice breaks their bubble as they turn to look at him. He smiles at them both, charmed by this little whirlwind who has bulldozed her way into Mun-yeong's path. Vaguely wondering what happens when a tornado and a hurricane meet? 

They walk back to the diner, Min-jo in the center and the eyes that land on them make him wonder if they look like a family, Min-jo had reached out to grasp their hands but Mun-yeong had slapped it away complaining of her dirty lake hands. The girl had only laughed before happily holding his hand instead before Mun-yeong broke between them, reminding her that he was her toy much to this chagrin.

The same older woman who had prevented Min-jo from following them the previous day, hastily bursts through the door as they draw close enough to be seen, her frantic voice shrill in the air, "Where have you been? Why did you leave without telling me? Are you okay?!" She grabs Min-jo, raptly checking her body for injuries, touching the wet hair on her head before looking at them angrily.

"Who are you? And why are you with this child?"

Min-jo beats them to answer, "This is the pretty witch and her prince." She beams at the woman, who looks taken back at the response.

He bows low in apology before continuing the explanation, "I'm Moon Gang-tae and this is my girlfriend Ko Mun-yeong. She came to find us we wanted to make sure she made it back safely."

She stares at him, scrutinizing his answer but once she sees that the girl is not harmed she sighs before accept his apology, "Okay. Thank you, I'm sorry for any trouble she caused you." She respectfully bows in return.

"You must have been really worried about her."

She freezes at his statement, looking down at Min-jo before averting her eyes, "No. I wasn't. I.....was just bothered thinking about her."

He raises an eyebrow at the defensive deflection.

"That's the same thing." Mun-yeong quips sharply.

The woman's eyes narrow but there is no argument.

They all stand in silence, the wind howls around them, darkness beginning to fall as the sun drifts into the water.

It is time for them to go. 

"Well this is goodbye, be well and stay safe." He bows once more, Mun-yeong waves once before turning away without another word to either. He shoots Min-jo an apologetic smile as her huge wet eyes follow Mun-yeong longingly.

Then she's ripping herself from the tight grip of the woman who cries at the action. She runs straight into Mun-yeong's back. Little feet thundering on the ground and she quickly closes the distance between them. 

"Wait."

Mun-yeong halts her movement, still facing away.

"Can....I?.." She stutters around the words that jumble in her mouth, eyes staring a hole in Mun-yeong's back, she must be impervious to its heat. After a long drawn out pause she bravely finishes her question, "Can I be apart of your family?" The hope laced in her voice batters at his heart, she's just a child who wants to be loved. Crying out for it. Begging for it.

"No."

Her little head bows in defeat, nodding as if she understands, nobody wants her and she doesn't belong anywhere.

She starts to walk back to the woman, all the previous joy and wonder sucked from every cell of her body. Walking as if a marionette on a string, stilted.

"We're leaving. A family needs to stay together, to lean on each other." Mun-yeong's voice causes her to pause mid step, a twinge warmer than it was earlier. The first day of spring after winter's bitter cold. "You should find a family that worries about you and who needs someone to lean on too. A family that will never leave you."

He watches as those huge eyes slowly travel until they land on the lady. She runs back to her, body trembling as she looks at her like she's seeing her for the first time. Eyes now able to see what has always been right in front of her. 

"Can we be a family?"

The woman gasps, turning her head away, eyes glistening. Min-jo reaches out and takes her hand, small palms appearing even tinier in the woman’s hold as she peers up hopeful once more.

He turns away before he can see the conclusion, walking away to fall into step with Mun-yeong, who turns to meet his gaze. He notices the tear streaks on her skin, fondly looking at her, falling ever more in love.

"How did it end?"

He shrugs, taking her hand, "I didn't stay. But I hope it's a happy ending."

"Me too." She squeezes his hand, tightly. 

******************************************************************************************

She wordlessly goes into the camping van announcing that she wants to take a nap. He nods at her, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek before letting her go.

He opens the box of supplies he bought days ago, nerves all but obliterated, he's never been surer of anything in his life. He works diligently but quietly, eyes tracking the door of the camping van to ensure Mun-yeong doesn't suddenly appear before he's done. As he finishes his last touches, he climbs the stairs of the camping van. Eyes softening at the sight of his girlfriend laying on his bed roll, snuggling into his night shirt. He coos at the rare and precious sight, loathing the idea of waking her.

The choice is taken from him when her lashes flutter open and her unfocused eyes land on him, she jumps up nonchalantly hiding the shirt behind her. He pretends not to see it, pointedly looking away from her. Before he beckons her up.

"Come with me."

He offers his hand, sees her in all blue glowing in the sun as she waited for him.

Once again, she takes his hand. It's just as sweet as the first time. His heart is giddy with love.

He contemplates asking her to close her eyes but ultimately decided against it, he wants her to see and relish every moment.

Her small gasp as he pushes the door open makes his heart tremble and do a back-flip, bouncing all around the cavities of his chest. She looks around astonished at the scene, the faint twinkling of the fairy lights that adorn the camping van, blinking rhythmically, like stars that fell from the sky, the long winding path of rose petals that lead to a blanket that is topped with a bountiful basket and a bucket with wine.

"Wow."

She turns to look at him, eyes glossy and shining under the luminescence of the fairy lights. "What is this?"

He doesn't answer her question, actions have always spoken louder than words for him. He escorts her down the path of petals, softly crunching under their feet. Until they reach the blanket and he helps her sit before lowering himself next to her.

He opens the basket, removing all the food he purchased and hid away, small sandwiches and fresh fruits. He plucks a strawberry out before pressing it to her lips, "Open up." The dark desire that rolls through her eyes makes his body flush in return. She obeys silently, wrapping her lips around the soft flesh of the berry, biting down, relishing at the flavor before swallowing. She feeds him a slice of honey dew in return, fingers dragging across his lips bewitchingly.

They consume the rest of the food in silence, feeding themselves and each other in equal turns. Before he pours them both a bottle of the cheap wine he was able to purchase in a liquor store in the town. Her eyes never leave his face as she drinks the wine, captivated by his every move.

"Are you full?" He whispers not wanting to interrupt the calm that has settled like a warm blanket over them.

"Yes, I'm no longer hungry." Intentional pause, as her eyes lock on his lips. "For food."

Adjusting himself in his pants he ignores her tempting offer, for now. The main event is still around the corner and he needs all his wits for that.

Taking her hand in his large palms, he rubs his thumb along the soft skin, gazing into her eyes with his own laid open, wanting her to see everything he feels.

"Mun-yeong, I love you. I love who I am with you, who I've become with you, I want to be with you always."

She blinks at his words, words escape her as she stares at him. He doesn't give her a chance to flounder much more, pulling out what he had hidden in his pocket and placing it in her hand.

The button eyes of the nightmare doll, glow under the moonlight and she looks down at the thing she once dismissed as "ugly crap", now a prized possession.

"Mang-tae?..."

"I'm still a coward a little, he's going to help me tell you a message." He guides her eyes to the scroll sticking from the pouch, all too similar to her concealed message to him.

She slowly pulls the paper from the sack, hands trembling as she unfurls it and reads the message written. She's a fast reader, incredibly so, he knows that and the message is fairly short yet she stares at it for what feels like hours, maybe even years, time is relative in the moment.

She reads the message again and again and again and again and again. 

Before she finally puts it down. Then the tears come, easily, flowing like a river, soaking the neck of her romper and she lets them fall, doesn't interrupt their journey, allows herself this brief moment of vulnerability.

She's never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

He tells her so, "You look so beautiful. I want to see this face until I die."

Without a word she places Mang-tae tenderly on the blanket, before crawling into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and she answers his question with a kiss. Their lips crash together with enough force to knock him backwards, dragging her with him as they tumble on the blanket.

Her tongue prods at his mouth and he eagerly allows her entrance, moaning at the sweet flavor of strawberry that floods his taste buds, sucking her tongue into his mouth to get more. His hands rub at the exposed skin of her back, traveling down to squeeze her soft lush ass, bringing their pelvis in contact. She grinds down sensually on his erection, moaning at the hot sensation. He pulls the tie holding her romper together, pulling back from the kiss to strip her bare. She resembles a wood nymph naked underneath the smattering of stars in the inky sky, the forest rustles around them.

While he's lost in the glory of her body, she undresses him, pulling his shirt over his head and pressing hot open kisses against his stomach, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them own with his boxers in one firm tug. Then she hungrily gazes at his body, hands massaging his thighs before she crawls back into his arms, their bodies slotting together like puzzle pieces.

Their tongues meet in a languid battle, bodies rolling against each other like waves, uncontrollably. He presses a curious finger at the folds hidden between her thighs and groans at the enticing wetness that surrounds the digit. Coating in her sweet juices. She shakes her head above him, lifting up to dislodge his finger. He looks at her in question.

"I'm too close. I can't take foreplay. Make love to me." She pleads, demands, begs. All of them, at once.

She steals his breath, just like she did his heart and his control. He wonders what he will have left after her? What will still be his when she takes it all? He would give anything to her.

He is incapable of denying her so with a gentle grip of her waist he moves her aligning their bodies before his cock brushes against her most intimate spot, with a fluid tilt of his hip he slides into her tight pussy, it feels like coming home.

He exalts at the sensation, letting it roll over him, basking in her constrictions around him as she wiggles in his arms before pulling his ear lobe into her wet mouth, "Please."

He thrusts into her, powerful but steady, drawing her close and forcing her to meet him. She begins to ride him, feet planted beside his hips as she rams herself down into his hard cock, the view is unbelievable her face twisted in euphoria under a million dazzling stars, he takes a snapshot in his mind.

Before she knocks all thoughts out of his head, plunge down harder and faster onto him, he grabs her waist desperately, needing to slow her down. But she fights his grip, pushing his hands beside his head and he could easily take control but as he watches her fall apart he realizes she needs this. Desperately. Everything tonight has been out of her control, she needed to gain some of it back. Needed to find her footing as he effortlessly swept her off her feet. 

He lets her hold his hands down, giving no resistant, watching her fuck herself on him, entranced by the indecent sight of his dick disappearing in and reappearing out of her. In. Out. In. Out. InOut. InOut. She sets a punishing pace despite asking him to make love to her but he muses that their version of love hasn't always been gentle or tranquil, sometimes it was volatile even explosive so for them this is making love. It similar to everything else in their lives has layers, that they are continually peeling back to expose a new coat. 

She starts to moan loudly, little ahs so sweet in the wind, twisting and undulating until every downward thrust bumps against her clit, she keens as she pants out his name, "Moon Gang-tae, Moon Gang-tae!"

He holds on for the ride, hips slamming violently into hers as she tightens around him, walls crushing him until finally she shakes in his arms, her body twitching almost out of his hold and he swiftly snatches her back, drilling into the tight wall of her pussy until he feels his pinnacle nearing, the blood in his head surges and he feel his length swell and explode as he tumbles over the edge, driving every last drop of him inside her until she's stuffed full.

She collapses onto him, knocking the wind from his lung. But he takes her weight, wrapping her in his arms.

"Yes." She breaths into his ears.

Sliding out of the tight glove of her pussy he rolls to the side, catching Mang-tae once more, her brows farrow again.

"You didn't let me finish." He gently chides. Taking her hand and bringing it the the pouch on the doll's back once more, he sees the shock that washes over her features, eyes large in wonder as she pulls out the object hidden inside.

A sparkling gold ring, a modest princess cut diamond sits proudly on top, as beautiful as its new owner.

"Are you serious?" Her voice trembles, the tears coming again.

"Yes. But right now it's just a promise ring, a promise that one day I'll be a man who's worthy of being your husband. I wanted to give it to you now so you know that I'm yours and I want you to be mine in very sense of the word. What do you say?"

Her face crinkles into a smile, "You promised not to make me cry again. You already broke that promise tonight. You better not break this one."

He chuckles, "Those are happy tears that doesn't count. And you didn't answer my question." He needs to hear her answer.

She looks at him from under her lashes, naked and beautiful under the inky black night sky, lips blessing him with her response, "Sure. Why not?"

He smiles at the nonchalant answer as she weeps, before taking the ring from her hand, gently pressing the ring onto her finger, it looks like it belongs, perfect fit.

She tackles him onto the blanket, showering his face with kisses as he laughs loudly, freely. Living out his wildest dream with girl that he liked who become the woman that he loves. 

The message on the scroll crushed between their weight. But the words are unaffected.

Marry me, someday?

They were in no rush they had a lifetime ahead of them. 

Maybe even another after that, if they were reincarnated and destiny brought them together again. 

*******************************************************************************************

She drives them to their new location, he doesn't comment on her driving past the diner or looking through the glass to see Min-jo happily talking to the woman, their hands wrapped around each other as she pulls the lady behind her, excitedly jabbering. Neither of them say anything but she smiles the whole drive after, humming along to BLACKPINK on the radio. 

♫ ♫ Dududududu  ♫ ♫

He still doesn't comment when they end up at another site with a lake and mountains in the background.

After using the bathroom when he comes out of her van he finds her standing on the bank of the river. Feet barely grazing the water.

Wrapped around her arms are the bright pink floaties he saw on Min-jo's arms.

His breath hitches as she looks back at him, defiant smile on her face. Her ring shining from its permanent spot on her finger. 

She takes a step towards the water.

[embyrinitalics]

Calamiversary: Flashbacks

Under the cut are a few unused flashbacks/dream sequences. I was actually really attached to some of these, and for a while I considered making an entire fic based on these two, but with Calamitous taking as long as it has my ambitions for that have fizzled out.

Anyways, I’m posting them in the order they appear in the google doc, but these are so old I can’t remember what was supposed to go where. 😂 Some of the scenes end midsentence, or have editing notes in them still, or don’t make sense because the surrounding scene never happened. Don’t think too hard about it. 😬

There’s about 3k words here, so. Hit that “keep reading” tag with caution!

Enjoy!

  Nightshade

He caught her looking, his expression amused and affronted at once.

“What are you documenting so studiously?”

“Nightshade,” she informed him coolly, and then angled the interface on him more obviously. “And something else, beautiful and strange.”

He loosed a breath, something caught between a laugh and a sigh, and tossed the stones back into the underbrush. “Are you playing with my feelings, Majesty?”

“Certainly not,” she breathed, admiring him in the viewscreen for another self-indulgent half-second before turning it on back on the flora. “I have a compendium to complete. I hardly have time for games.”

“Don’t tease me,” he murmured, folding his arms. “It isn’t easy being in love with a queen and a goddess.”

Her mouth twisted gently, swiping through the interface again and tapping more useless details into the entry. She muttered, “I’m not a goddess.”

He joined her in the grass, rocking back onto his elbow and tipping the interface back with one finger so she would meet his eyes, glimmering softly with the beginnings of a wry smile. “Who said I was talking about you?”

She smiled in earnest, letting the interface drop, forgotten, into her lap. “I wasn’t aware you were well acquainted with any other queens.”

He scoffed dismissively. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I’m sure,” she allowed, reaching to pick grass out of his hair and smoothing the wind-tousled bangs it had tangled in afterwards. She was grateful for the levity—grateful to him, for supporting her even when it meant denying himself.

So grateful...

And she still hadn’t untangled her fingers from his hair, from the soft edge of his hairline and his temple, the smooth line of his brow. He had gone quiet, eyes half closing and diverting, while he let her. He watched her palm for another second, two, and then closed a hand, gently, but firmly, over her wrist.

She swallowed, her hand hanging idly between them and the spell broken. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not stopping you for my sake,” he frowned. “It’s agony not having you, but I’m stupid enough to take what I can get.”

She sighed. “I can have you reassigned. No one would question it—”

“No, we’ve been over this,” he growled, running a hand tersely through his hair. “As long as I wield the Sword, my place is with you. And I can handle it.” Then he hesitated, expression shuttering, and he amended, “Unless you’ve changed your mind, and no longer wish it.”

Her hands were in the grass, eyes fixed on them, and her heart was throbbing in her throat. She couldn’t quite swallow it down.

She whispered, “No.”

  A Meeting

“Link,” she breathed, startled, their eyes meeting for a charged half-second.

He bent his head curiously in a rigid sort of bow, as though he was leaning away from the discomfort of their meeting.

“My lady.”

She waited, paralyzed, for him to move, or speak, or even look her in the eye again. But then, the ball was in her court.

It was always in her court.

But she was unprepared, and unarmored, and teetering dangerously at the precipice of a vulnerability she could not afford. And so, exercising her royal privilege as unmagnanimously as she likely ever had, she fled.

He caught her elbow as she made to pass him, sending a warm jolt up her arm. A rebuke danced wildly on the tip of her tongue, and she might even have used it had there been another soul anywhere within earshot of them. But the hallway was abandoned, and they were alone. His eyes were still fixed on the place she had been, the practiced stoicism in them, the practiced numbness in them, simmering with the frustration that he was harboring beneath.

“I won’t have this conversation with you now,” she reprimanded him quietly. “Not here.”

His gaze slid back to hers, burning, threatening to buckle with impatience or something far more desperate, and she wanted to flinch away from its intensity and luxuriate in it at once.

“When, Zelda?”

She took a meaningful step away, freeing her arm, and coolly arched a slender brow even as her heart sputtered at the cavalier way he used her given name in public.

“When we’re somewhere less conspicuous.”

She expected him to submit, tucking his tail begrudgingly between his legs and allowing himself to be put off yet again, but his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t scold me like I’m some child,” he scoffed.

  The Wilds

The carriage jostled down the path, headed for the milky spires that had been bobbing in and out of view for the last few hours. Her visit to the new reservoir in Lanayru had been successful, and pleasant enough as these sorts of things went, but there had also been a lot of pomp and formality surrounding the whole affair that left her craving some solitude and a good night’s rest in her own bed.

Both of which would happily get her out from under the stormy gaze of her Knight Protector.

Shielded by the walls of her carriage, she let herself grimace and sink a little lower in her seat. They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk in several days, what, with all the preparation for the journey and the constant company of the delegation. And she may have been avoiding him. Just a little.

And he seemed to have begun to notice, if the way his gaze burned into her any time she was careless enough to graze it was any indication.

The carriage jostled again violently as they rode over another pothole. And this time, the whole thing lurched to a stop beneath her as the axle snapped. She sighed, readying a gentle smile as the footman swung the door open.

“Hit a spot of trouble?”

“I’m afraid so, my lady,” he grumbled, offering her his hand.

“Please tell me you can fix it,” she said, brow puckered, letting him help her out and onto the road and trying very hard not to groan. She was not looking forward to walking the rest of the way.

“I doubt it very much, ma’am. But we’re nearly there. You could continue on horseback.”

She willed herself expressionless. The only horses saddled for riding were those of her escorts, which meant—

“I’ll take her.”

She didn’t need to guess who had spoken, or turn to picture the smug look on his face. She plastered an insincere smile over her mouth as his horse’s hooves beat an easy amble behind her for the footman’s sake—it wouldn’t do for him to see her furious or crestfallen or abjectly miserable over something as routine as a ride back to the castle from the man who was largely responsible for such things.

“Very well,” she said demurely, unable to conjure a decent excuse, and turned.

And there he was, perched atop his chestnut mare with an expression arguably more schooled than her own. She took his hand, hiding the warm jolt that ran up her arm, and let him lift her over the pommel, bidding the rest of the entourage farewell as he urged his horse forward and over the ridge.

When they had cleared the crest of the hill and taken the bend for a fair distance, he slowed them to a walk, letting the reins go slack and dipping his head to inhale the warm safflina in her hair.

“Link,” she mumbled, shrugging him off half-heartedly, but he wasn’t so easily deterred.

“We’re in the middle of the Wilds. No one is going to see. Just let me have this.”

Maybe it was the reasonableness of his argument, or maybe it was the note of heartache in his voice, so imperceptible only she would have ever noticed, but either way she let herself be coerced. They rode in silence a while, and she finally relaxed when he didn’t press her for more than that, letting herself lean a little into his chest. His hands rested idly on her waist, fingers curled loosely in the reins.

He said, “I missed you.”

She could feel his eyes looking cautiously for hers, but she pretended not to notice.

“You were with me every day.”

“No. I stared at the back of your head every day. That hardly qualifies.”

“I was busy.”

“You were avoiding me.”

She met his eyes then, ready to object, and quickly remembered why she had made every attempt not to. They looked right through her, melting her defenses and reducing her will to jelly. She sighed.

“I was avoiding you,” she agreed, settling against his chest again resignedly.

“I didn’t blame you,” he murmured, warm breath and lips moving softly against the lobe of her perfectly tapered ear, and her heart throbbed treacherously. “I knew why. It was just frustrating, not being able to talk to you about it."

Her eyes fell shut, stinging with remorse. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t do that. It was as much mine as it was yours.”

“I don’t regret it,” he said, quiet adamance coloring his voice, “not for a moment. Even if it means consequences for me.”

In spite of herself she smiled, warmed to the bone by his sweet assurance. “Even if you’re stripped of rank? Even if you’re whipped?”

“They can’t whip the memory of you out of me,” and then he leaned closer, his warm breath feathering her ear again, “Zelda.”

Not Princess, or My Lady, or Highness, or the plethora of other titles he was obligated to use in the presence of others. Merely Zelda. Because out in the Wilds of Hyrule they were alone, and a stolen kiss didn’t seem such a terrible secret. Even if it was forbidden. Even if she had made it abundantly clear to him that it could never happen again, no matter how sweet and perfect and wonderful it had been.

She sank back into him, letting the steady beat of their gait and of his heart lull her into a rare peace.

  Realization

When I woke there was moss against my cheek, the cool dew of early morning clinging to my lips and eyelashes. The vision from the night before danced in breaths and lights as I blinked myself lucid, like the ghosts of a dozen sunset fireflies. I wanted to chase them, down, down into a dream, into an illusion, and wrap myself in it like a blanket. And then, like a wish fulfilled, soft lips alighted on mine, encouraging me awake.

“Good morning,” he murmured, pulling me closer by the hand splayed over the small of my back, and that didn’t strike me as odd in the slightest.

I snagged fingers in the collar of his shirt and buried my face in his neck, breathing him in as I grudgingly left the dream behind, as I spiraled towards his warmth. He smelled like the forest, and nights spent in the wilds, and it was so good it made my eyes tremble shut.

“It can’t be morning,” I whispered, sighing, and he pulled me into his lap, humming in agreement, and pressed his lips to my pulse point.

The wind rippled across the plains, across the wilds, tangling in my hair and twisting it sideways, and neither of us paid any mind. It was too rare that we found ourselves like this, lost in each other and lingering in that quiet stretch of peace between sleep and waking to the world.

“I need to get you back,” he said, but even as he did wrapped his arms around my waist in silent, subconscious objection. “You’ll be missed.”

“Then let me be missed.”

His lips on my neck angled higher, gently coaxing me down, and just as they obligingly found that delicate spot behind my ear, he whispered apologetically, “We can’t.”

I resisted the urge to scowl, resting my forehead on his. He was right, of course. But that didn’t mean I had to like it. My eyes eased open in time to watch the sunrise over his shoulder.

Another dawn. I knew there couldn’t be many left before the Calamity finally stirred from its long slumber, restless, feverish, hungry and ready to devour the world…

And then I realized how little of this made any sense—how incredibly blue his eyes were, how the voice I had been using wasn’t even mine—and the jarring disconnect between who I was and where I was broke the illusion apart.

  The Blade of Evil’s Bane

She opened her eyes as she felt a weight being lifted off her back.

And then she watched as Revali drove the Master Sword through Link’s middle to the hilt. (chapter break, then she freaks out, catches him, and his eyes start to roll back)

“Don’t you die on me,” she shouted through furious tears, pressing her fingers to his forehead. “Don’t you die!”

And then light filled her from the inside out as she bridged their minds, glaring across the world like a sun rising from within.

He sat across from her at her writing desk, still blurry from the haze of her tears, but she could hear the sardonic smile on his voice.

“Is that an order, Princess?”

She wanted to berate him, wanted to scream and fight tooth and nail against his apathy, but she couldn’t find her voice—not without loosing everything else that was threatening to spill out. She stood and crossed the room to nowhere, trying to shield herself from his ridicule. He sighed, following slowly.

He turned her around gingerly and took her face in his hands, studying her carefully while he thumbed her tears away.

“Why do you cry over me?” he murmured. “By rights I should have been dead thousands of years ago—even if I had defeated Ganon. This era will go on without me. I’m nothing.”

She took a sharp, stinging breath, and whispered, “Not to me.”

His lip quirked up in spite of himself, a familiar, roguish half-smile alighting on his face that made her heart stammer. “Never cry over your soldiers, Princess,” he scolded her gently. “They’re only too happy to die to protect you.”

“Don’t give up,” she warbled, a fresh rush of tears spilling out of her eyes, down her cheeks, over his thumbs still cupping her face. “Please don’t. Not like this.”

“Hyrule will go on. So will you.”

“I heard what you said to Urbosa,” she accused him, reaching for something, anything, that would make him hold on for just a moment longer. “You were wrong. I’m not confused. Not anymore.”

That gave him pause. His eyes searched her, gradually shedding the armor that they had always worn, piece by heavy piece, revealing the tired, consuming sadness beneath.

“Don’t cry over me, Princess,” he murmured, drifting closer. The bridge of his nose brushed softly against hers as he angled her face higher, poised to lance through her walls even as his own crumbled. “It pains me more than you know.”

He took her lips in his own, deepening the kiss obediently when she parted for him, and a sound lifted out of her. She wanted to lose herself in him, dive headlong into sating oblivion and never surface. But she found the will to pull away.

“Then don’t do this,” she urged, breathless, against his mouth.

He lingered, warm breath ghosting heavy on her lips. His voice was quiet, husky, desire tempered by regret. “Overcoming the Blade of Evil’s Bane is not so easily done.”

“I can save you,” she whispered, stepping closer, stripping away the needless space between them. “Never doubt that.”

“I have never doubted you,” he said, so tenderly her heart squeezed. “I’ve always known you were capable of so much more than you ever dreamed. But this—”

“I won’t let you go. I’ll order you back from the grave if I have to.”

He sighed at that, a defeated, hollow sound, and her lips parted gently in surprise. “I’m just so tired.”

And then he gasped, like a drowning man drawing breath after so many minutes, and the dream bled out into light.

She blinked away sunbursts and the blindness that followed, stumbling haphazardly back to reality. Link was in her arms; the hole through his stomach was gone.

 Ruins

The sunlight dimmed into night, luminous stone embedded in the sculptures lighting the darkness like softened stars. The ruins grew into an atrium, looming over the gathered order of monks and their commander. Her knight stood as far away as he dared, near the entrance, should there be a disturbance. It was nearly as far away as he had had the will to station himself in weeks.

“The final sensor towers have been erected, and Naboris is nearly ready to be deployed,” a monk was saying, the tattoos under his eyes catching starlight as he spoke. “Her pilot is in the final phases of training.”

The proclamation didn’t garner the reaction anyone was hoping for; the Queen merely nodded, lips pursed. Another monk shifted, as though weighing the wisdom of disturbing the silence that had settled uncomfortably over the assembly, before he decided to be bold.

“I had an idea for another Beast. Nothing so large or so complicated as the others. Something for Hylia’s Chosen—”

“No,” the Queen murmured. “There isn’t time.”

His teeth met with a click. He sent a sidelong glance to her knight, standing with his back against one of the pillars flanking the entrance, but he shook his head in subtle warning, and that put pain to it. He seemed less and less inclined to voice dissent recently, and everyone suspected they knew why.

“Then we’ll redouble our efforts with the Divine Beasts we have,” he offered instead, wearing a reassuring smile. “We won’t fail you, Your Highness.”

She nodded again, smiling tightly. They were dismissed, and her knight drifted closer, moving towards her as the others filed away. She was still sitting on the ground; he offered her his hand, and she met his eyes. She took it, lifting to her feet, and didn’t let go, squeezing softly.

She whispered, eyes depthless in their uncertainty, “But will we fail them?”

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   21

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Papyrus' love language is... food? Sans' is... staying safe...? Sweetheart's is... not taking shit anymore? Or is she just hurt?

A/N: Just kidding, we know Paps' love language is acts of service, and Sans' is touch. 

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Papyrus cares- he does!

Sans woke with his arms around his sweetheart, and he couldn’t get the smile off of his face. 

His arms tightened around her, squeezing her just that little bit closer to him. 

She was so soft…

So comforting…

She fit perfectly into his arms and against him. 

Sans nuzzled into her neck, taking in her scent and nipping to wake her gently. 

(Y/n) hummed softly as she woke. There was a tickling at her neck mixed with soft nips, making her giggle as she was pulled into the waking world. 

That sweet giggle sent jolts of fondness through Sans’ bones. 

“stars, y’re s'wonderful, sweetheart,” he murmured.

That poisonous little thought in the back of his mind that she was only doing any of this to keep him pleased dug at him again, but he dismissed it so hard that it was like flinging a child against a wall… not that he’d… done that before… he was just supposing… 

They laid there for a bit, cuddled together, and enjoying each other’s company, until Sans finally pulled his phalanges from her hair where he'd been trailing them and sighed. 

"gotta get some breakfast, sweetheart. definitely gotta do my rounds t'day." 

She watched him as he climbed from the bed, hesitating at his dresser. 

"w- ya wanna c-come wit me?" He asked, focusing his gaze away from her. 

"Ok," she told him, her voice a bit raspy, but ok otherwise. 

Sans seemed a bit more at ease at that, his posture relaxing and smile gently growing more genuine. 

"heh- sweetheart, i 's gonna tell ya; that's real sweet a ya, what ya said las' night… an' it was funny as hell when ya barked at boss," he told her with a chuckle as he gathered his clothes. 

(Y/n) giggled back. "I don't know what his insistence of me only being a pet is for, but if it gets the point across, I can bark- especially if it makes him feel silly." 

They got ready and spent an awkward breakfast sitting at the table with Papyrus, who seemed a little stiff and formal, but seeming to be ignoring that anything out of the ordinary had happened the night before. 

As the three were getting ready to part ways, Papyrus stopped them. 

"SANS, DON'T FORGET YOUR MEAL!" He held out a paper bag, seeming to hold something heavy at the bottom. 

Sans looked a little flustered as he took it, muttering, "ya didn't have ta do that, boss…" 

"OF COURSE I DID," Papyrus insisted, his own skull flushing a very faint red. "YOU'D JUST EAT THAT GREASY GARBAGE IF I DIDN'T MAKE SURE YOU HAD SOMETHING PROPER TO EAT!" 

"thanks, bro," Sans replied, then he and (Y/n) turned to go, but stopped at the loud clearing of his nonexistent throat the taller skeleton gave. 

"AND YOURS, HUMAN." He held out a bag similar to Sans', refusing to look at her, still lightly glowing red. "IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR OWN, MY LAZY BROTHER WILL CERTAINLY FEED YOU HIS AND GET THAT GREASY FILTH ANYWAY." 

(Y/n) looked at the bag in confusion for a moment, glancing at Sans and Papyrus, then back to the bag. She had no idea why or when the irritable skeleton would have gained enough thoughtfulness to try to take care for her- maybe she'd gained a bit of his respect when she'd stood up for herself and Sans the night before…? 

Those thoughts were pushed out of her mind as he jiggled the bag at her impatiently. 

A small smile curved her lips as she decided to show her appreciation to him. 

She took the bag and wrapped her arms around him, giving a, "thanks, Papyrus, it's so thoughtful of you!" 

The large, intimidating skeleton in her grasp flushed darker. "SANS! REMOVE YOUR HUMAN FROM ME AT ONCE!" But he didn't move to reject her. 

(Y/n) held back her chuckle at how entertaining these emotionally constipated monsters were as she let him go, giving him a bright smile. "Have a wonderful day, Papyrus!" 

He gave a flustered "NYEH!" of agitation as the other two left, and (Y/n) almost couldn't hold her laughter this time. 

"Um, Sans… while we're out, is there anywhere that we might be able to get a razor?" (Y/n) asked a few minutes into their journey. 

An image of a lethal straight edge flashlight in his mind. "a- a razor? wh-what d'ya need that fer?" Sans asked nervously. In the underground, it was normal to have a weapon, even above ground, most monsters had something on them to protect themselves, but, his sweetheart? 

No. 

He'd protect her. 

He didn't want anyone getting any funny ideas and trying to go against his sweetheart. Humans with weapons were dangerous, and it would only invite trouble. Other monsters would attack out of the sheer principal of having something so dangerous around. 

"For shaving," she answered, her neck heating a bit. 

Calm instantly flooded Sans. 

Oh. Shaving. That was different; he could get an entirely different kind of razor for her. 

He was pretty sure the same place he'd gotten her clothes had something like that, since they dealt in procuring the stranger items from human life that some monsters wanted- for various reasons. 

Sans hummed. "sure, i know a place that might have what ya want." 

.

They went through rounds, Sans talking to each monster as though he were taking a census, making sure that no one was bothered or bothering anyone else. 

It occurred to (Y/n) that what he and his brother were doing, if Papyrus did the same thing, was keeping the peace. Making sure that no arguments arose between any of the citizens. 

The main reason that she'd caught on, though, is because where it had been so calm the last time she went through with him, now, it was agitated and unsettled. 

Monsters looked like they'd attack anyone who looked at them wrong, though the posturing usually broke up when Sans neared. 

It seemed that he had a lot more authority than she'd thought he did, and that the rounds were more important than she'd first guessed, and Sans acted like they were, as well. 

It was getting close to lunch time when they reached a shop with a sign in the window. 

It was obviously closed, the lights off and doors locked, and as (Y/n) used her translator paper to read the sign hung on the door, CLOSED DUE TO DUSTING. 

She looked to where Sans was standing uncomfortably, looking anywhere but the store. 

Was that a normal thing; to close for a whole day just to dust the store?

She felt like there was more to it, like she was missing something, but with the put out way Sans was looking, it didn't seem like the right time to ask. 

She'd ask later, when they weren't in a place surrounded by people who would kill them if given the chance. 

She folded up her paper and stuffed it in her pocket, wordlessly following as Sans turned and silently led the way. 

There were no bad knock knock jokes as they made their way to their next destination as Sans silently brooded through whatever he was dealing with, though he seemed like his regular self as he spoke to the next few people, he was eerily silent between. 

He had a pretty amazing mask to keep his emotions hidden- but of course, these monsters were all emotionally constipated… or maybe just emotionally closeted, afraid to show how they really felt in case someone tried to use it against them… 

Sans pulled (Y/n) out of her reverie, telling her, "we'll hit up that shop fer a razor, then we'll stop fer lunch." 

"Ok, sounds good," she answered, following him to a storefront. 

It had been painted black, like so many of the others, the windows seeming purposely dirty and gritty so you couldn't see in from the outside. There was no name on the front, but 'tea' had been spray painted in dripping red paint on the wall near the door, in human. 

Over all, a very sketchy feeling seemed to emanate from the building. 

Sans opened the door and they entered, (Y/n) looking around at the strange space. 

There was a small area in front of the counter that seemed to run the length of the store. Most of the counter was blocked off by a seeming wall of junk that spanned from the counter to the ceiling, and there were more shelves of it above the space behind the counter, as well. 

There were a few racks on this side of the counter, holding various black, red, and mixed color cloth, and it took a bit for (Y/n) to realize that they were clothes fitted for different types of monsters; obviously, if you were a rabbit or lizard monster, you'd need holes for a tail, but if you were a skeleton or other monster with no tail, you wouldn't- and the spider lady and all of the spiders from the bakery would need something entirely different. 

There was a pretty rabbit monster behind the counter, wearing a tight, low cut top that hardly left anything to the imagination. Her velvety looking pinkish fur seemed very well groomed, laying prettily, the hair on her head pulled into a curly, wavy, ponytail. 

"Heya, there, Sansy," she cooed at him seductively. 

"Hey, doll," Sans greeted back with a slick grin. 

(Y/n)'s attention turned to the interaction, admittedly feeling a twinge of jealousy at the way he wasn't rebuking the rabbit's advances. 

She knew he was flirty, so she tried to quell the stomach twisting emotion. She hated to admit it after how close they'd gotten, but, he was a free monster, just as she was a free woman- they hadn't decided to be anything more. Hadn't even talked about it.

The rabbit leaned forward on the counter, giving a very obvious show of cleavage. 

A lot of cleavage. 

"Is this your new pet, Sansy?" She asked, looking (Y/n) over. "Looks like she's got the clothes ya bought on. And the fit is pretty good, a little off, a bit big… but, we can't expect everyone to look the same in everything, isn't that right, pet?" The way she said pet made it obvious it was something not really worth her time, and that she most definitely was above in any sort of hierarchy. 

(Y/n) didn't say anything, her jaw clenching instead, knowing that she had to play nice in a group of hostile people as big as the town. 

The rabbit didn’t seem like she wanted an answer, anyway. 

Sans gave a huff of a laugh at the snide comment pretending to be a joke. 

(Y/n)'s jaw clenched a little harder. 

He was laughing at her? 

It kinda hurt… 

"Aww, look at her. Such a good, well trained little pet. Most pets are so noisy so soon after you get them." The look on the rabbit's face was a rude, scornful sneer despite the praise. 

She hoped Sans would hurry up so they could go, but… he leaned his arm on the counter, looking over at her. 

"she is a good pet," he agreed, sending her a grin that looked a bit patronizing. 

A pit started to form in (Y/n)'s stomach. 

Free agent or not, she would have sworn that their relationship was deeper than that… especially after last night... now she felt a bit cheap and used… 

Dirty… 

Sans’s smile faltered, his brow bone tilting a little in question. 

“I bet she’s a compliant little pet, too,” the rabbit seemed to be goading (Y/n), trying to get some sort of reaction out of her. 

No emotions, she told herself, tightening her jaw just a bit before letting her face fall as neutral as possible. 

“she is, does what she’s supposed ta, but only fer me,” Sans replied to the rabbit off hand, sounding a little distracted as he watched (Y/n)’s expression change. 

The rabbit lady was looking at her so smugly that (Y/n) was starting to feel disgusted, not only with her and the situation, but with herself, too. It started to peek through her neutral face. 

Sans straightened a little from the counter. “somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, hiding his honest concern so well that he sounded almost a little patronizing. 

(Y/n) turned her head to look at him, not realizing that her jaw was clenched so tightly that her teeth were starting to hurt until she opened her mouth to answer. 

“Just reflecting on how glad I am that I don’t behave like an attention seeking hussy,” she looked back to the rabbit, who was still trying to showcase her cleavage on the counter while arching her back to show off her tail and how short her shorts were. They were short. Short enough to see a hint of thigh over the counter. 

The rabbit woman made an extremely offended noise, glaring at her. 

“sweetheart,” Sans looked a bit shocked, glancing from the rabbit to her. “what’d ya say that fer?”

She leveled him with the most neutrally masked contempt she could muster. 

“Woof. Woof.” 

A growl rumbled from Sans as his face grew red with anger. His movements were stiff and jerky as he stood straight, moving toward her. 

“c’mon, sweetheart, we’re goin’,” he growled, taking her hand and pulling her toward the door. 

[streets-in-paradise]

Roadside Bet

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 1

Word Count: 1767

Characters: Wednesday, Shadow, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC) 

Relationships: Platonic. 

Summary: Setted in season 1 of American Gods. Mr Wednesday takes his crew on a trip to New York hoping to recruit a powerful ally. Shadow starts asking questions about him and his curiosity unleashes a silly argument. 

Warnings: Some ageists jokes, the camp half blood concept from Percy Jackson is interpreted in American Gods’s style. 

Disclaimers: This serves as an introduction for my self indulgent attempt of writing fanfic including Sean Bean as Zeus in the American Gods universe. I couldn’t find fiction for Sean Bean’s Zeus and he’s so fine that I can't deal with it so I decided to include him in an idea I had previously in process for an American Gods fanfic. I apologise for any possible mistakes,english is not my native language and this is a translation. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair​. Our conversations about Sean’s Zeus inspired this. I’m tagging you in both parts. Thank you so much for the inspiration. 

I hope you ‘ll enjoy this. Thanks for reading

With the exception of Wednesday's bad mood, the trip was not having any major setbacks. The old man was quite unbearable because he hated New York and its exorbitant modernity, but he knew that this was a trip he was obliged to take. If he closed the deal he set out to make, he would gain a powerful ally, perhaps the most powerful one available. 

With only a few miles to go, he switched places with Shadow because he wanted to drive to relieve stress. Meanwhile, to alleviate the boredom during the break, he started to chat with Eira. The girl was sprawled out in the back seat listening to music on an old MP3 player dating from 2002. Shadow signaled her to take off a headset and pay attention to him. Listening to them, Mr. Wednesday rebuked her

“I told her to get rid of every modern toy before following us but she never listens. Eira!! Turn that rubbish off before I destroy it myself.”

“ Chill out, old man. This is ancient history technologically speaking. It doesn’t have wifi connection, or bluetooth, or anything. Nobody can try to track us through this, even the boy must have forgotten these things existed. It’s as safe as your car’s radio.” she replied in a tone that showed annoyance. 

 Shadow laughed, always amused to see the boss and his new co-worker arguing as a family. Wanting to pry into what she was hearing, he reached out to grab the earpiece she had taken out of her ear and placed it over his.

“ What’s that language?  Greek, I think? “ he commented about the music 

“Yeah, it 's greek. I’m getting ready for our next stop.” she explained. 

 “ Greeks? After what I experienced with the russians some time ago i thought we were going to New York to have a meeting with the japanese mafia or something like that. All your business partners seem to have a thing with extremely violent threats. “ he complained

“Don’t be so harsh with Bogo. Most people think he is scary and disgusting but i think he is great. He may be a bit of a psycho weirdo, he makes meat uncomfortable for everyone and sometimes he throws his cigarette smoke in your face but he is a very fun dude “ 

“ Bogo? Did you nicknamed him? He is a serial murderer who wants my head. “

“ We both live in Chicago, my mom tends to know everyone there and everyone knows her. I know him since i was a child, he is like a grumpy grandpa to me.”

That statement left him a bit shocked. Mainly because he did not imagine Czernobog being friendly to anyone or even being seen as friendly. 

“  Do you know the greeks? “ he asked, taking the opportunity to prepare for what was to come

“ No, I never had the pleasure, that’s why I'm so excited. They do their own stuff by themselves, they don’t tend to be very cooperative with the rest. Need is what pushed everyone else to start cooperating and created the unstable bonds of solidarity you had seen so far. They have their own functional system, they don’t need help from anyone. Even if they were struggling i doubt they would ask for it or accept it.” 

“ Very secretive people. How will we convince them to join Mr Wednesday? “ 

“  Let that to me, dear boy.” the boss interrupted . ”They never pick a side, not with us and not with the News. They are always pretending they are better than everyone else in that fake copy of their Olympus they made to themselves when all they actually have is a bunch of brats. If the big conflict starts they will have to choose one side and that’s where we enter.”

“I’m very curious about them "she added .” Their strategy is fascinating. They have a family business that keeps them standing for a very long time in conditions others would only dream to have. They adapted by being themselves without selling to the News.” 

” So, greek mafia then? ”  Shadow asked,curious and worried in equal amounts. 

 ” Never call them like that ever again. That’s very insulting and they are famous for being very arrogant and easy to irritate. Theo will carbonize you if he hears you calling him a mob boss. ” 

” Theo is their boss? He is the one we are visiting? ” 

 ” That’s how we call him, nobody dares to use his full name in casual conversation so we picked a middle ground epithet between his tradition and ours. Names are powerful, Shadow. You don’t have to use them in vain. ” Eira explained. ” Honestly, I'm very excited to meet someone so powerful. Most of the still strong names out there had given up and sold their brands to the News but Theo and his people are still successful. They are living the lifestyle of the Old Country, or at least the closest copy they can get in America. Wednesday is salty because he was never able to agrupate our kind in a similar project. My work for him is the closest thing he got, I’m one of the very few children of his associates who got invested and that’s only because my mother kept me with her. I’m not precisely the rule, that’s why practically i grew up to be here now. ” 

Shadow started to get severly worried .The repeated comment about the power of the people who were going to see kept him on his toes. He didn't want to get into any more trouble. 

 ” Do you want to give me a list of stuff to avoid when facing this Theo? I’m starting to freak out a bit and I don't understand a shit of what you are saying except for “ he is powerful”.  ” he asked her

 ” Don’t worry i will be there with you the whole time and i have more experience dealing with this sort of thing than you. Wednesday should have brought you to my mother’s home first instead of going straight to the russians when you visited our city. Don’t be scared, if you screw it up i will help you out”. 

Wednesday did not missed the chance to give his own advice as well

 ” The best for both of you is to keep your mouths shut as much as you can. “ he warned. ”Smile, nod in agreement, answer only what it’s being asked of you in the moment. This goes especially for you, young lady. ” he concluded in an imperative tone. 

”  Why the sudden care? You didn’t when we were visiting others. Are you afraid of him? ” she teased. 

”  Never, how could you suggest that? I’m restraining you because I don't want you to shift the focus of our negotiation. Theo has a weakness for youthful maidens like you.” he replied, scolding her again. 

 ” Then I should be the one negotiating with him.Wouldn’t be easier to convince him? ” 

” They don’t make him particularly weak, they are his favourite distraction. He enjoys himself when they get affected by his charm. Our business is the war and nothing more. Less you talk, less chances of distracting him too much.” 

Shadow was getting some entertainment with the discussion and intervened to give his opinion

” He doesn’t want this guy doing to you what he does to other women. ”he stated, mocking Wednesday. ” He wouldn’t admit it but he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see some horny old dude around you, thirsting over you and making you feel uncomfortable.” 

 ” My concern is not her safety, it’s her loyalty what troubles me. She works for me, she represents me. I don’t want her to forget it in front of him.” 

” Wednesday, he is older than you. ” Eira complained, trying to make him understand how ridiculous he sounded. ” Why would i care about him flirting with me? I’ll smile at him, pretend i’m pleased with his commentaries to keep him happy enough for you to close the deal and that’s all. It’s not the first time it happened, i’m used to casual flirting. Mad Sweeney had done it the few times we had seen each other,  some others associates of yours do it sometimes. The people we see tend to get flirty, Shadow has experienced it as well. It’s part of the job. ” 

” Mad Sweeney is a drunk loser, we are talking of real power here. Watch your steps and don’t embarrass me.”  Wednesday insisted. 

Shadow couldn’t stop laughing 

” Is he truly afraid you would be seduced by a man older than him? He has to be kidding, he is one of the oldest men i ever meet so how old is the greek ? 95?” 

 ” I may not be into the Technical Boy despite being closer in age terms to him than to most of the dudes we had dealt with but that doesn’t mean i’m into senior citizens. A middle ground is good, thanks. ” she joked, joining the mockery. 

” You two are too young to understand some very important aspects of how things work here. I’m warning you before it’s too late.”  Wednesday replicated.

 ” Whatever, thanks for the advice. I will have it in mind the next time an irresistable senior citizen shows up.You don’t know anything about my tastes in men and you are projecting your own crap on me. You may have a thing for girls of my age but not all of us get horny for grandpas. Some do and i don’t judge them but i’m not one of them.” 

 ” Wait and see. ” the old man replied in the same mocking tone. ” I would like to bet. I did it when Shadow fought the leprechaun, now it’s your turn. ” 

 ” We don’t have anything of value you may want.He just got out of jail and it’s not like mom would give me her Brisingamen just because i lost a bet to you. ”  

 ” Shadow, are you in? ”  the boss asked 

 ” What would i win? ” 

 ” If Eira feels condescendingly repulsed by the greek i double your weekly pay. If he charms her  i discount a percentage .” 

 ” If she doesn’t feel attracted to an old greek you duplicate my pay? Sure, i’m in. it is a safe bet, right?” he asked her 

” He talks bullshit, i’m not interested. Go ahead.” she assured him 

 ” I had never been happier standing in the middle of your silly fights. ” 

The youngsters spent the rest of the trip making fun of Wednesday's ridiculous bet, sure they were going to win. The old man laughed in their faces, he was playing with them again.  

Note: Theo is a name with two possible etymological origins, one greek and one germanic. A long time ago i read a theory that said the greek form Deos was associated with Zeus. I recently read that wasn’t the case but i still found it fitting for Zeus. 

[farmerlan]

Farmer Lan’s Rewatch Guide to The Untamed - Episode 11

Jiang Fengmian’s palms getting real sweaty rn

episode masterlist here

SPOILER WARNING!  

[Jin Guangyao takes his leave and Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng decide to return to the Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng is worried about being punished for leaving without permission and grouses that he will never stop getting into trouble because of Wei Wuxian. When Jiang Fengmian appears, he seems unusually concerned about whether they encountered any trouble along the way as opposed to whether they stirred up any trouble.]

Differences from the novel:

This pretty much doesn’t happen since none of the events leading up to it happens in the novel.

It’s kind of interesting because I think the show makes Jiang Fengmian appear more disciplinarian than he is in the novel? In the drama, he definitely harshly rebuked Wei Wuxian at the Cloud Recesses and Jiang Cheng mentioned being punished by him. But in the novel Madam Yu was 100% the disciplinarian and Jiang Fengmian either was way too relaxed (with Wei Wuxian) or just didn’t care (with Jiang Cheng).

[Jiang Yanli arrives as well and they all sit down for lunch when Madam Yu shows up. I LOVE how her entrance is accompanied by villainous music. She has a bone to pick with...well, just about everybody. She goes off about the Wen ‘indoctrination’ and the unfairness of Jiang Cheng being forced to go as the heir while Wei Wuxian is given a choice. She doesn’t give face to ANYBODY, picking on Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian in turn.]

Differences from the novel:

This does happen in Chapter 51, pretty much almost word for word. There is, I think, some interesting nuance in her choice of words here that might have been missed if you relied on the Netflix subs (which kind of suck, sorry), so I summarized my thoughts in the overall section below.

[Lan Wangji is ambushed by Wen Chao on his way back, but manages to escape. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren do the whole “no, YOU leave and I stay” routine and Lan Xichen finally accepts that he must escape with the Lan archives. We watch the Lan disciples get massacred.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng disclose their involvement with the Yin metal to Jiang Fengmian, and Jiang Fengmian speculates that while the Wen sect won’t come for them YET, the Lan sect is likely in deeper shit than the rest of them due to their involvement with the Yin metal. 

The Lan disciples and Lan Qiren convene outside the cold cave, and are joined by Lan Wangji. They make it into the cold cave, but are betrayed by Su She. Lan Wangji tells Wen Xu to leave the Cloud Recesses in exchange for the Yin metal - and gets one of his legs broken.]

Differences from the novel:

We don’t really get to see what happens at the Lan sect during the burning of the Cloud Recesses - we only learn of it through what was recounted by Lan Wangji. He does get his leg broken though.

Lan Xichen claims he cannot leave because he is the sect leader, implying that their father is already dead. However, in the novel, the raid happens when their father, Qingheng-Jun, is still alive. In Chapter 55, while trapped in the tortoise cave, Lan Wangji mentions that when he left for the Wen indoctrination, his father was severely injured in the attack, and Lan Xichen escaped with as much of the sect’s archives as possible,  with his current whereabouts unknown. When Wei Wuxian awakens at Lotus Pier afterwards, he learns from Jiang Cheng that Qingheng-Jun had passed away while they were at the Wen sect. :(

Ambush doesn’t happen, and the Su She/cold cave scene doesn’t happen. In the flashback timeline, Su She really only shows up twice - once as part of the water ghosts excursion and once at the tortoise cave.

[Back at the Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian demonstrates his archery prowess. Jiang Cheng says, ‘Shooting under their sun won’t be as easy as today” - on the surface a reference to the weather, but keep in mind that the Wen sect’s symbol is the sun, and in Chinese what he said can also be translated as “THIS sun” (这太阳), right after one of the disciples mentions the Wen sect, so it’s literally foreshadowing the eventual Sunshot Campaign (射日). 

Wen Ruohan is displeased that Wen Qing lets Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian escape, and she promises that there will not be a next time. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are headed to Qishan and Jiang Fengmian sends them off with his famous line, “明知不可为而为之，有所不为，方有可为”.

They arrive at Qishan and we see some familiar faces, but the Lan sect is conspicuously missing. Wen Chao makes his appearance and the Wen guards bring in Lan Wangji, and then demands they surrender their swords.]

Differences from the novel:

I have thoughts about the English translation of the Jiang sect’s motto (“attempting the impossible”), I’ll save them for down below. Also - Jiang Fengmian never says the latter half the line in the novel - only the motto (明知不可而为之).

In the novel, they are practicing archery/fooling around right before Madam Yu shows up to admonish them, and then they learn about the Wen sect indoctrination. So the sequence of events is flipped around.

Since Lan Wangji didn’t have to surrender the Yin metal to the Wen sect in the novel, he just shows up with the rest of the Lan sect disciples in the novel.

This is the first time that we run into Wen Chao in the novel, and he’s flanked by Wang Lingjiao and Wen Zhuliu.

Overall thoughts：

First of all, Netflix’s subtitling needs work. I mean, I know it’s definitely not easy to do any kind of translation, so I don’t want to rag on anyone’s efforts either, but I was laughing at parts of the show. I didn’t have subtitles on when I first watched The Untamed, but I turned it on for the re-watch since it might be helpful to see how my understanding aligns with that of a non-Chinese viewer. It’s not bad, but also missing some flavor.

I first laughed at Netflix’s subtitle usage of ‘myrmidon’ when subbing Madam Yu - it’s a serious SAT word where servant would have sufficed. Madam Yu’s speech is actually pretty much identical to what was in the novel, but I wanted to point out her specific usage of the word ‘household servant/家仆’, and the subtext here that might be missed for people relying on the subs. In the novel, she calls out Jiang Yanli for peeling lotus seeds for Wei Wuxian and says, ‘You’re not a servant!’. In the context of the situation, she is specifically pointing out the difference between her and Wei Wuxian’s status - don’t serve someone who is supposed to serve you, remember your place is higher than his. Keep in mind that Wei Wuxian’s father was a servant of the Jiang sect who eloped with CSSR (whom Jiang Fengmian had fancied). Wei Wuxian’s high status within the Jiang sect is unusual and has always been seen as a symbol of favoritism and therefore a sore spot for Madam Yu. It would have been way more common for him to have a servant/companion relationship with Jiang Cheng (similar to how Jin Guangyao’s relationship was with Nie Huaisang in the drama) since he is after all completely unrelated by blood to the Jiang sect. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian even discuss this in greater detail in Chapter 56 - funnily enough, Wei Wuxian doesn’t mind this term at all, most likely because he was raised more like the child of a sect leader vs. the child of a servant.

(Mini non-related rant: I sometimes see fan discussions that casually glosses over the importance of blood and familial ties in Chinese culture, and it makes me want to tear my hair out, especially considering that the whole ‘blood is thicker than water’ thing is basically a trope in so much of Chinese xianxia/wuxia literature. There’s a lot of “how could you abandon someone who is basically your brother” talk when discussing the relationship dynamics between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian while blithely ignoring the fact that they are NOT and WILL NEVER BE brothers. Periodt. In fact, they are clearly both deeply cognizant (Jiang Cheng perhaps more so) of their non-familial ties and it is an issue that comes up again and again in their conversations or narrative dialogues. I just hate it when people handwave away their complicated relationship and pin it all on Jiang Cheng as being ‘unsibling-y’. /end rant)

One other thing I’m kind of picky about is the translation for the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s motto - to ‘attempt the impossible’, or ‘“明知不可而为之’. Strictly speaking, I don’t think it’s a great translation of the meaning of the phrase, which is likely derived from the Analects of Confucius (Xian Wen, 38), because it leaves out a big chunk of the meaning. 明知不可而为之 is to do what you SHOULD do, even if it seems impossible and, in the course of doing so, you may find that it wasn’t so impossible after all, but the possibility of success or failure should not preclude you from doing what needs to be done. Lu Xun, one of China’s most esteemed writers, wrote a piece that I think fits in well here - if you see a bunch of people soundly asleep in a room that has no easy way in or out, and you knew they would asphyxiate to death soon, would you wake them? Or let them pass away peacefully in their sleep? (Note: he wasn’t specifically using the example to illustrate this principle, it’s just a story I borrowed that fits in well here)

The argument under the 明知不可而为之 principle would be to wake them. Even though they’ll likely spend their last moments in terror and struggling for air and trying to escape, it is what you should do, even if the outcome is unlikely to be favorable.

Interestingly, it has been used in a much more negative context in the novel. In the novel, the line is often referenced in the light of ‘you knew this would cause trouble and disaster for everyone and yet you went ahead anyway’ - if I were to insert ‘attempt the impossible’ into those situations, it would be really odd.

Lastly, I do love the show’s portrayal of the Lotus Pier! It’s exactly like how the novel depicted it and honestly it still breaks my heart how it was sacked + the changes in the succeeding years as Jiang Cheng rebuilt Yunmeng. I don’t remember if the show goes into too much detail, but in the novel, it’s mentioned in Chapter 86 and 92 that there’s a lot less activity around the Lotus Pier now due to Jiang Cheng’s fearsome temperament. :(

Also straight up I’m gonna say Jiang Fengmian has the best fits in the entire series, how can you not get with that black and purple combo ughhhh

[winchestergirl23]

Maybe you should have stuck around

Pairings: Dean x sister, Sam x sister

Word count: 900

Warnings: Angst, John being very short-tempered. 

Summary: This is part 2 of the Winchester Sister Series. Read Part 1 here. The reader has an exam but John wants her to join him on a hunt. This leads to some heavy confrontation.

A/N: To all of you who show me love every day by following, reading, reblogging and commenting, I just want to extend my deepest, most sincere gratitude. You guys mean the world to me. Thank you for your love and support. 

I know it’s been a while since the first fic in this series. I promise to update as often as I can. This fic did turn out a bit more angsty than what I’d planned that I felt so upset after writing it. It does, however, sit in well with what I have planned for the rest of the series. Hopefully, y’all will like it. Do let me know what you think!

----

“Dad, please try to understand what I’m saying. I cannot miss my test tomorrow. I just cannot.” you plead.

You’ve spent all of last week cramming for your AP history midterm. John had come home last night after weeks of disappearing on a hunt; something he’d been doing a lot of late, not that you had any complaints. Gone were the days when you’d anticipate John’s return from a long hunt. 

The atmosphere in the house had become tense ever since Sam had brought up the idea of leaving for college. Since he’d gone, things had become far worse. John had become exceedingly short-tempered. He had become very curt with you, having still not forgiven you for not telling him about Sam’s acceptance to Stanford.  He’d often rebuke even Dean for “letting” Sam run away. Dean was always patient and obedient despite John’s temper, encouraging you to do the same. You found that it was best to spend time in your room whenever John was around; not being able to tolerate the way John was treating his family. 

You look at John, your eyes beseeching. You can’t believe the conversation you’re having right now. John had wanted to investigate a haunting in an old, dilapidated asylum few towns over and believed it to be the spirits of the patients. He’d wanted backup and insisted on you and Dean accompanying him. You, however, did not want to miss your history exam. 

“You will join us tomorrow. That’s the end of this discussion Y/N.” John says roughly.

“Dad, I’ve spent the entire week studying. Please! I’ve worked too hard.” you beg, as tears threaten to spill.

“I DON’T CARE. I NEED BACK UP AND YOU’RE GOING!” he orders, slamming his fist on the table just as Dean enters holding two grocery bags. His bewildered eyes roam from your now-tear-stained face to John’s fuming one.  

“What’s going on here?” he asks, setting down the grocery bags.

“Your sister refuses to come on the hunt tomorrow.” John states.

“Well yeah… she’s got her history test tomorrow.” Dean remarks, giving John a ridiculous look. “You didn't say anything to me about Y/N joining us.” 

“I need backup Dean. We don’t know how many spirits are haunting this asylum.”

“I’ll be there for backup dad. Y/N doesn’t have to be there -” Dean prompts.

“I say she does.” John interrupts. 

“Dad - Y/N has worked really hard for this. It’s her midterms.” Dean stresses.

“I don't remember asking for your opinion,” John states, glowering at Dean. 

“Dad, come on-” Dean starts.

“I knew would happen. Leaving her with you, I gave both of you too much freedom. You’re too easy-going on her. She’s turning out to be just like Sam - choosing school over family. You let Sam run away, it’ll be her next!” John snarls, shouting over Dean’s words.

“He didn’t let Sam run away!” you cry out, goaded by John’s speech. 

“Sammy didn’t choose school over family. He chose school over hunting! And Dean didn’t know anything about him leaving. When he did get to know, he tried to stop it.” you finish, glaring at John.

“Y/N!” Dean starts, realising that the argument needs to be dissipated before it gets out of hand. “Stop. Just go to your room.” 

His words are ignored as John directs his anger at you.“BUT YOU KNEW!” he shouts, spit flying from his mouth. “You knew and you didn’t do a damned thing to stop him. You betrayed this family.”

“Dad, Stop this! Y/N! Go to your room!” Dean insists, but his words are drowned out by John. 

“You’ve gotten quite out of control – helping your brother leave, talking back to me like this. Staying with Dean has spoiled you - letting you think you can get away with anything.” John snarls on.

“Well if you cared so much dad, maybe you should have stuck around!” you retort, balling your fists. 

“Y/N! THAT’S ENOUGH!” Dean shouts, stepping between you and John.

“What did you just say to me?” John asks, menacingly. His face is red and you can see a vein popping in his neck. You’ve seen John apoplectic before but it’s never been directed at you. Sure he’s yelled at you many times but now, his rage is terrifying. You take a deep breathe, deciding that you might as well get this over with.  

“You heard me -” you start, jeeringly but are interrupted by Dean turning to face you, blocking out John. 

“Y/N. GO. TO. YOUR. ROOM!” Dean stresses; his tone final. 

You’re about to retaliate but one look at his eyes dissolves your words into silence. The green eyes in front of you are flared with anger, but you can read the silent plea in them. His temper isn’t directed at you. You’re crossing a line with John and he doesn’t want you to get into more trouble. You hesitate, your lower lip trembling. You don’t want to leave Dean to take John’s wrath all by himself. You start to speak but knowing what you’re going to say, he stops you.

“Y/N, Go!” he says, giving you a sincere look. He places his arm on yours and gives you an encouraging squeeze.

“Okay.” you resign, wiping off a tear. “I’ll go.”

“No! I’m not done with her.” John hisses, his words laced with fury. 

“YES, YOU ARE!.” Dean interjects, angrily. “You and Y/N are done talking dad!. Right now, you and I need to talk.”

You take one last look at Dean. You bite your lip, feeling terribly guilty. He nods at you reassuringly as you leave. You walk away, actively avoiding John’s glare. You consider hiding by the stairs to eavesdrop but decide against it. You’d get yourself and Dean into so much more trouble if you were caught. Dean has just stood up for you. You might even have caused him more trouble by talking back. With a heavy heart, you trudge up to your room. You shut the door and sink to your knees sobbing.

Tags:

@insomniac-with-a-juice-pouch​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763​

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch13

Ok, art challenge officially flunked.  I managed 12 chapters though and as someone who did not art I think I’ve spent more time being creative over the course of this fic than I have in the last 20 years cumulatively.  I’m still going to keep drawing (I’m actually quite enjoying it) but the writing and sketching schedules are not aligning.

@willow-salix has been incredibly patient with me, it would probably be a very different (and much shorter) story without her.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Thirteen

Jeff had been surprised to get out of his meeting and find the memo on his desk.  He hadn’t known his eldest son was coming home so the request that he make it back in time for dinner was pleasant if unexpected.  It would be nice to have another adult in the house.  Maybe having Scott around for a few days would set a good example to Gordon and get him to buck his ideas up; his fourth son was still being a distinct trial on his patience. 

He entered the apartment to snippets of conversation and laughter that drifted down from the kitchen.  Scott’s clear voice carried strongly down the hallway and the sound of his eldest brought a smile to his face and he hurried through to see the son he now saw the least of. 

“Evening Gordon” a quick, curt greeting to one son before turning to the other, “Scott, this is a pleasant surprise, how come you’re here?”

“Hi Dad.  I just had some leave owing, I thought I’d come back and see you folks.  It is ok for me to stay isn’t it?”

“Course it is, Son, this is your home after all.”

“Thanks.  Dinner’s nearly ready, it needs another, what, ten minutes?”  Scott looked across at Gordon for confirmation and got a nod in return. 

“Great, I’ll just go get washed up.  Where’s Alan?” he asked, noting that the table had only been set for three.

“Senior science club.  You’d know that if you paid any attention to his schedule.”

The animosity radiated off of Gordon and Jeff noted the warning hand Scott placed on his younger brother’s arm, urging him to keep his cool.

“Fine. Well, I’ll be back in a few minutes boys.”

As Jeff exited the kitchen Scott turned to Gordon, still keeping hold of his arm.

“Look, I know things aren’t great between the pair of you…”

“Understatement” he was interrupted with a snort and an eye roll.

“...but please don’t make things any harder than they have to be.”

“Fine, I’ll be a good boy.”

“Gordon…!”

“Ok.  No arguing with the old man, I get it.  Now, can you let go of me please, I need to turn the stove off.”

Scott released his brother who turned back to the bubbling pans on the stove and put the finishing touches to the meal he was preparing.  They carried the plates and dishes over to the table between them and waited for their father to join them before starting.  The smells coming out of the pots were really quite tempting, it looked like Virgil was right when he said their brother had hidden talents.  The meat was grilled to perfection and the sauce was full of flavour.

“This is delicious Scott.” Jeff commented after spearing a piece of broccoli.  

“Actually, Gordon cooked, I just did what I was told.”

“Hmpf, at least one of you can follow instructions then.  Did you finish your personal statement Gordon?  I want to see it after dinner.”

Scott realised that the arguments clearly flowed both ways.  No wonder Gordon had been so miserable if every achievement was overlooked and every opportunity to take a dig at his failings was fully exploited.  With every passing minute they were in close proximity, and each sniping comment from their father, that fragile confidence he had bolstered was visibly leaching out of Gordon.  He noticed with concern that Gordon’s plate was still worryingly full.  How could a man that was meant to love his children equally be so complimentary to him in one breath and scathing to Gordon in the next?  He had always been prepared to excuse their father’s faults, the long hours of work and pushing responsibility onto himself and Virgil was an unfortunate consequence of a man trying to do his best for his family, but he couldn’t stay quiet over tonights’ injustice.  Placing down his fork he took a deep breath and prepared to enter the fray.

“Actually Dad, Gordon and I have been busy this afternoon.  It’s my fault he hasn’t done it.”  

“Well he can work on it after dinner then, the next college application cycle will be closing soon.  Perhaps you can give him some pointers.” 

“I’ll help Gordon with his application but it won’t be for college.” 

Jeff, sensing insubordination, narrowed his eyes.  He had come to expect it from Gordon but Scott had always followed his lead.  This new development was surprising.

“Well what else would he be applying for?” 

“WASP.”  It came out slightly louder than Scott intended causing the surrounding silence to deepen ominously.  He held his father’s gaze and set his jaw in determination.  He had committed to supporting Gordon and was prepared to make a stand.

“Not that nonsense again”  The rebuttal was swift and accompanied by the clatter of steel against crockery as the remains of the meal were abandoned.  Jeff’s anger rose swiftly at the mention of the aquanaut patrol.  “He’s too young and hardly has the right temperament to follow orders.  Even if they would accept him he would probably be court marshalled out within a month and I will not have that sort of shame brought on the family”

“He won’t be too young in February and he has exactly the right temperament to join as an officer.”

Now it was Gordon’s turn to be surprised.  He was grateful to Scott for his support in joining WASP but to hear his brother thought he should be an officer was a step further than he had ever considered.  He had been staying silent during the verbal tennis match between Scott and his father, trying his hardest not to inflame the situation.  Tensions around the table were escalating.  Scott had always deferred to their father previously but his time in the Air Force had him used to being in command and now it was like watching the alpha male and the young contender circling for dominance in the pack.  He wondered if the comment was deliberately designed to challenge their father or if Scott really meant it.

“Gordon?  An officer?  You cannot be serious about that.”  There was derision at the mere thought of Gordon taking a role of responsibility.

“I’m perfectly serious.  You never saw him at Marineville.  You never heard what his assessors said about him.  If he hadn’t had to withdraw from selection they were going to offer him a commission, they could see he was wasted in junior ranks and I have to say I agree with them.  WASP selection makes the Air Force tests look like a cake walk but Gordon was good out there.  If he wants to go into WASP then I for one will support him, it would be nice if you could support him too.”

“I think I know how best to support Gordon and that is in continuing his education, that’s if Gordon is even still eligible for college.”  Jeff reached into his jacket and drew out an envelope, it was addressed to Gordon and bore the marks of the California Department of Education.  He slid it across the table.  “This was in the mailbox downstairs.  I was hoping to talk to you about it privately, Gordon, and save you any embarrassment, but seeing as your brother is determined to play a part in your future we may as well discuss this now.  I can only assume there has been some error in the awarding of your high school diploma.” 

Scott looked at the envelope with some concern.  If Gordon really had flunked his diploma then becoming an officer was off the cards and even junior ranks looked doubtful.  WASP really could afford to take only the best and this could be a major stumbling block.  His younger sibling paused for a moment, trepidation etched across his features, before reaching out and picking up the letter. 

“Took them long enough, I’ve been waiting for this.”  There was something in his tone that Scott couldn’t quite place; more nervous anticipation than worry.

Gordon slit open the envelope slowly, as if not wanting to see what it contained despite having been expecting it.  A single sheet was carefully extracted and it only took Gordon a moment to read the short correspondence.

“Bastards.”  The exclamation was spat out as the page was thrown down in disgust.

Whatever reaction Scott and Jeff had been expecting it wasn’t this.  

“Gordon, what’s going on?” Scott butted in, cutting off their father from issuing a rebuke for foul language.

“They won’t change the topic.”

“Topic?”  Scott looked at his brother in confusion.

“Yeah” Gordon sighed heavily, too exhausted to maintain the mask he normally wore around his father. The anger in his features mixed with pain as the memories resurfaced.   “You wouldn’t have had to do this one back in Kansas but California have a unit on Modern American History and Dad here is a compulsory assignment.  I wrote and asked them to take it off the curriculum.”

“Why would you try and do that?  I know things aren’t great between you two at the moment but surely you don’t want to wipe Dad out the history books.”  He tried to place a reassuring hand on Gordon’s forearm but the limb was yanked out of his reach.

“This isn’t about Dad, it’s about ALAN!”  Gordon dropped his head into his hands, his elbows slamming painfully against the tabletop.  Grief and a sense of failure bubbled up inside him as he hid his face from twin questioning gazes.  He hated showing weakness, hated giving his father yet more ammunition to throw back against him, but the memories were too strong to repress.

“What the hell has Alan got to do with this.  Seriously Gordo, you aren’t making any sense.”  First it was about school, now it was about Alan.  Scott felt like he was trying to read a book with half the pages missing.  He was sure it made sense somehow but at the moment all he knew was that Gordon was clearly upset and hurting.

Jeff snorted, choosing to ignore the deep breathing as Gordon fought to maintain control.  “I dare say your brother will do a better job than you when the time comes.  From what I remember of that paper you barely scraped a pass grade.  It really says something about your abilities when you can screw up what should have been the easiest assignment of the lot.  It’s your own family for goodness sake.”

“Easy?”  The blonde head snapped up, locking eyes with his father and channeling the grief into anger.  “That was the hardest paper I’ve ever had to write in my life and it’s going to be ten times worse for Alan.  At least I wasn’t mentioned by name.” 

“Gordon, what’s going on?”  The rising flush of emotion to his brother’s cheeks filled Scott with concern.

“The paper, it’s not just about Dad, Mom’s in there too.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to have the worst moment of your entire life there in the set text for the whole class to see?  The avalanche, Mom dying, Alan surviving, it’s all there.  They didn’t even have the decency to put it in the main text either, it’s just a footnote like it isn’t really important.  Our Mom’s death is a fucking footnote and I didn’t want Alan to have to deal with it like I had to, it’s not like I’ll even be here to help him when the time comes.  Ever since Dad decided I was going to be packed off to college I’ve been trying to get it changed.”

“That...that sucks.”  Scott couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to have to face their own personal tragedy in the classroom.  What it evidently had been like for Gordon.  “But Alan won’t be dealing with it alone, Dad will be here.”

“What, like he was here for me?  You and Virgil were better parents than Dad has ever been.  He only cares about the bottom line.  Make the grade and nothing else matters.”  The chair was shoved back angrily.

“Gordon, you should have told me.” Jeff cut in quietly, his face ashen at the sudden reminder of the tragedy that had ripped his wife away forever.  That Scott and Virgil were viewed akin to parents by the younger ones rather than just brothers was also a shock.  Had he really been so far removed from his family?  What else had he been blind to?  His eyes tracked backwards and forwards, trying to keep pace with Gordon who was now striding about erratically on the opposite side of the table in a display of energy Jeff suddenly realised had been absent for many weeks.

“I tried to but you weren’t exactly in a listening mood.  You were too busy bawling me out for getting suspended.” 

“You got suspended?”  How much had he missed out on in the last seven years?  If Gordon had ever confided this to Virgil his next younger brother had never shared the burden of knowledge.  The Gordon he had left behind may have been a bit of a pest at school with the occasional prank or missed homework but nothing that would warrant him getting suspended. 

“Guess some of my screw ups Dad didn’t even want to share with the family.  Yes Scott, I got suspended.  I...well...I got upset in class and some of the others kept going on about it and then one day I snapped.  Ended up breaking someone’s nose.  The Principal took it off my permanent record though when he found out what it was over.  I think he felt sorry for me.”

“So you tried to get the Department of Education to drop the topic.”

“Yes.” Gordon picked up the letter again, a look of disgust crossing his face.  “They won’t though.  They ‘thank me for my concerns and provide their strongest assurances of the factual accuracy of the text books’.  He’s got another year to go yet but when he gets there please look after Alan” this plea was directed straight at their father,  “cos I can’t if I’m at college and it’s going to be rough for him.”

Scott found the disgust mirrored in his own features, not just at the Education Board, but also for the actions of their father who had clearly skipped out on the emotional wellbeing side of parenting.  Gordon had faced the demons alone and was now doing his level best to protect Alan.

Any further discussions were cut short by the arrival home of that same small, blonde hurricane.

“Scott!  When did you get here?”  Alan launched himself across the room and draped himself around Scott’s neck, nearly strangling his older brother.  The new arrival seemed unperturbed by the obvious tensions around the table and Scott wondered just how normal it had become for the youngest to be surrounded by bad feelings and barely concealed arguments.   

“Hey, let a guy breathe.”  The clinging arms loosened slightly but weren’t released completely and Scott returned the hug.  “C’mon, we’ve finished here.  Do you need to eat?  Any homework due tomorrow?”  

A shake of the blonde head.  “You’re as bad as Gordon.  What is it with everyone checking up on my homework?”

As bad as Gordon, not as bad as Dad; Scott filed that away for the next time he spoke to Virgil.  He had been so happy to be free of the responsibilities of family that he had never really considered who had stepped up to take his place.   

“Well if you’re sure you’re good let’s go somewhere more comfortable, you’re pushing me off this chair.”

Jeff watched as Scott unhooked Alan’s arms and led the party through to the lounge.  Those were the questions he probably should have been asking as a father but hadn’t thought to.  Scott had stepped in first as though checking in on the youngster was the most natural thing in the world.  

All traces of the argument were put to one side for the sake of the youngest but the look Scott shot Jeff showed that the discussions were far from over.    

[curiosity-killed]

a bow for the bad decisions

canon-divergent AU from ep. 24 (on ao3)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16 | part 17 | part 18

Wen Qing perches on the fourth side of the table, folding her hands in her lap. “Apparently they don’t think this is an ideal settlement site,” Wei Wuxian says, dry. She rolls her eyes at him, and Jiang Cheng’s stomach twists at the fondness in the gesture. He wonders if that’s new, if that affection has only bloomed in this last week of shared hardship; certainly she didn’t look at Wei Wuxian that way in their time at Cloud Recesses. He looks down at the teacup in his hands. It’s oddly fine, incongruous with the harsh sparseness of the cave. He turns it in his hands, rubs his thumbtip against an old chip in the lip. “Nie Mingjue has demanded the Jin sect allow representatives from each sect tour the camps,” he says. “Depending on what they find, they could push for camps to be relocated outside of Jin jurisdiction.” He can almost see the argument framing up in his own mind: Nie Mingjue arguing against the unrighteous treatment; Lan Xichen serving as a kind of mediator, suggesting that the sects should share in the burden of the war they fought together. He still doesn’t know what role he’s supposed to play here, what he’s doing beyond trying to cling to his family. “The Nie Clan has particular cause to hate Wens,” Wen Qing points out. Wei Wuxian nods slightly, a pinch in his brow.

“We should talk to Huaisang,” he says. “He’s the best one to persuade Chifeng-zun. And I’d be in their debt.”

He wrinkles his nose a little at that, as if bothered by the entire concept of being a bartering piece. As much as it sits crosswise in Jiang Cheng’s chest, it’s a good point: Jin Guangshan wants the Stygian Tiger Seal for the power it brings, but Wei Wuxian proved himself as a weapon even before he forged it. An offer of alliance would bring any sect new weight behind it, a stronger base to stand upon the wider political world. It’s a dangerous bargain, but it has potential. “If it is of any use, my specialty is in disruptions to golden cores,” Wen Qing says. “With the Nie sect’s history of early qi deviations, it may be of interest even if they don’t trust me to treat anyone.” He’d forgotten that, too used to thinking of Wen Qing as he knows her rather than the doctor the rest of the cultivation world has heard of. From what he knows of the Nie clan, they’d be more likely to dance naked under the moon than let a Wen near their golden cores — but they could at least offer. “I might be able to help some as well,” jiejie says. There’s something halting in her tone, a hesitation that makes Jiang Cheng sit up straighter and frown. Looking at her hands, jiejie swallows before lifting her chin. “Jin Zixuan proposed to me,” she says. “What?!” “The peacock—” She fixes a stern look on both of them that has them subsiding. Wei Wuxian hunches into his shoulders, fiddling with his flute, and Jiang Cheng scowls as he crosses his arms. He never did get the whole story of what happened during the hunt — by the time he might have, Wei Wuxian was already threatening Jin Zixun in front of the assembled cultivation world, and jiejie doesn’t like to tell stories that might embarrass others. Still, he heard enough of the rumors to guess that Jin Zixuan made an ass of himself yet again, and, once again, it was at jiejie’s cost. “The night before we left to come here, he apologized for his behavior and made clear his feelings,” she explains. “I told him I needed to attend to my family but — but he said he would wait as long as I needed.” There’s the start of a blush high up on her cheeks, a small smile curling at her lips as she looks down at her hands. Shaking her head slightly, she composes herself. “Jin-furen has always been in favor of the match,” she says, “and Jin Guangshan may view it as an opportunity to have more authority over a-Cheng and Wuxian. I do not think there will be protests.” Drawing in a breath, she gives them a tentative smile. “I think I might be able to persuade Zixuan somewhat,” she says. “He is not the most outspoken but he…I think he would listen.” Jiang Cheng stares at her, tries to reconcile any of what she’s said with the Jin sect heir he knows and grudgingly comes to the conclusion that she might be right. During the war, Jin Zixuan had led the Jin forces when his father refused to join the alliance, and in their meetings and discussions, he had been quiet and offered insights only when he had useful knowledge. As much as it pains him to even consider it, Jin Zixuan might not be the worst ally they could possibly have. “And Yunmeng Jiang?” He looks up, frowning, at Wei Wuxian’s voice. His brother is carefully not looking at him, gaze resting on the table and back straightened in impeccable posture. He looks the way he did kneeling for Mother’s rebukes. “I’ve caused trouble for you,” he continues, “and there will be repercussions from the other sects.” “Yes? You always cause trouble,” Jiang Cheng interjects, waspish. “If you didn’t, I’d think you were possessed.” It’s supposed to make Wei Wuxian roll his eyes, shove Jiang Cheng. Instead, he swallows and doesn’t lift his gaze from the table. “Hey, stop that,” Jiang Cheng scolds, tugging at his shoulder. “We’ll go back and give a full report to all the sects like they requested and tell them how you’ll destroy the seal and once the Wens are safe, we’ll go back to Lotus Pier. I’ll — I’ll make you scrub the boats or something like when we were younger, alright? There. There’s your discipline.” Wen Qing straightens as he speaks, shooting a sharp look at Wei Wuxian. He catches it, gives an abortive twitch of his head, and she subsides with a dark frown. Eyeing the two of them, Jiang Cheng feels unease roil high up in his chest, but he lets it go when Wei Wuxian laughs and swats at his arm. “Alright, alright,” he says. “You’re very threatening, Sect Leader Jiang.” Wrinkling his nose, Jiang Cheng pulls back and huffs out a breath at the teasing. He’s relieved, though he’s not about to say that aloud. “Now what about Wen Ning?” he asks. “They’ll want to hear about him.” Wei Wuxian doesn’t groan, but it’s implied in the way he slouches to his feet. Wen Qing, on the other hand, is upright in a jolt. “Leave your sword,” she orders. “What?” Jiang Cheng demands, gaping. “Leave your sword here,” she says. “I won’t let you see him if you’re armed.” He wants to point out that even without Sandu, he still has Zidian coiled around his wrist. More than that, he wants to know why she’s so worried about him being armed. It stings, a bit, that she’d protest this when Wei Wuxian’s walking all over with his ghost flute. Does she really trust him so much less? “Aiya, it’s fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Leave Sandu here, no one will touch it. Wen Qing is even more stubborn than you.” Scowling, Jiang Cheng props Sandu against the table and steps away reluctantly, his fingertips lingering on the familiar ornamentation. Ever since Indoctrination, ever since he got her back, he’s hated letting go of his blade. It brings back too many memories he doesn’t want to face: of being defenseless, unarmed, useless, when Wang Lingjiao sauntered into Lotus Pier and when Wen Zhuliu closed his hand around his neck. He swallows down the memories and follows as Wei Wuxian leads them further back into the cave. It really is a hovel, thick with resentment and crawling energies that Jiang Cheng doesn’t need to look for to sense. There’s a pool flooding from a toppled giant’s mouth, and he recoils from the too-familiar stench of blood. For all that he’s never been able to take the gossip about Wei Wuxian seriously, Jiang Cheng now finds himself wondering. Wei Wuxian was different, when he came back from those missing three months. Like someone else was wearing his brother’s face as a mask, speaking venom that didn’t belong on his tongue. He’d been ghostly, edged and vicious, in a way that didn’t make sense at all — but now, looking around this seething cave, Jiang Cheng understands a little more than he’d like. They turn into a far corner of the cave, and Jiang Cheng stumbles over his own feet at the gushing wrongness of the space. Wen Ning lies still under a blanket of talismans, resentment writhing up off him like a forest fire. “What— Wei Wuxian, what is this?” Jiang Cheng demands, surging closer. He’s a corpse, clearly. His skin is ashen and grey, body too still under the net of spells. No breath lifts his chest, and Jiang Cheng can make out a fine network of black veins crawling up his neck. Horror, revulsion, rise up like bile in his throat. “You really brought back his corpse,” he breathes out. “He’s just lost his spiritual cognition,” Wei Wuxian retorts. “I’m bringing it back.” “He’s dead,” Jiang Cheng snaps. “You turned him into — into a puppet, like Wen Ruohan.” Wei Wuxian flinches back, but his jaw is tight as he squares up to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “I promised Wen Qing I can bring her brother back, and I will,” he says, hard. “Do you want to tell her that her brother isn’t worth it? Do you want to go get Sandu and run him through yourself?” “Wuxian,” jiejie says, sharp, and Wei Wuxian pulls back abruptly. He looks away, hand tight around Chenqing, and works his jaw for a moment. Jiang Cheng’s fists have tightened, shoulders hitching up defensively. He’s seen Wei Wuxian do that before, turn that shale mask down and lash out with his quick words. He’s never had it turned on him. Wei Wuxian draws in a steadying breath and loosens his fist by degrees. “He’s not a puppet,” he says in a calmer voice. “His spiritual cognition was forced out of him, but I’m bringing it back. He’ll be able to think and feel and make his own choices again. He’s not — he’s not a puppet.” Jiang Cheng swallows, adrenaline still running through him for a fight. “What are we supposed to tell the sects then? They’re calling him the Ghost General, saying you made him as a weapon to lead some undead army against the foundations of the cultivation world,” he snaps. There’s a flinch, small and pained, at his words. Good, he thinks. He has to know that this is a mistake, that there’s no coming back from this. It’s not unorthodox, it’s wrong. “We’ll tell them Young Master Wen was badly injured both spiritually and physically,” a-jie interjects quietly. “That he is not a combatant but a — a medic in a healing coma.” She looks vaguely nauseous, too pale, and Jiang Cheng wants to hit Wei Wuxian for that, too. He wants a fight, wants to drag his brother out into the open air and have it out. Forget swords and elegant duels, he wants to punch Wei Wuxian in the gut and wrestle him down into the mud until he can force him to actually look at what he’s doing, to see the mistakes he’s making. “Shijie,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, confusion and concern twinned in his voice, “you don’t like lying.” “I don’t,” she agrees before sighing, her shoulders slipping. “I–I hope it’s not a lie.” It’s a question, a small plea. Wei Wuxian nods, gaze suddenly urgent under the small furrow of his brow. “I’ll fix him, shijie,” he promises. “It’ll be alright.” None of this is right. None of this can possibly be fixed, Jiang Cheng seethes, but his anger feels suddenly sodden, drenched by a wave of exhaustion. He wants to go home, but not to the smooth wood walls and lapping waters of Lotus Pier. He wants to go home to before the hunt, before the war, back when his home was unfractured, collected safe and whole beneath the same roof. They leave the Burial Mounds with silence hugging them like a fog. He can barely lift his gaze from the grey dust track, and thinking of the tasks before them turns his body to leaden weights. Beside him, jiejie doesn’t speak. “Jiang-zongzhu! Jiang-guniang!” They turn sharply, Jiang Cheng’s hand tightening on Sandu. Wen Qing slows to a quick walk, her face flushed and breath coming in quiet pants. Her hair’s been pulled in tendrils from its careful style and wisps about her face like the softest strokes of ink. His chest gives a funny seize. “Wen-guniang, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” he demands. She waves off his question, gulping in a breath as she comes to a halt before them. “It’s the seal,” she says. “Wei Wuxian can’t destroy it.” Jiang Cheng frowns, shooting jiejie a questioning look as if she’ll better understand this. Surely Wei Wuxian didn’t start in immediately. He’d said he couldn’t destroy it while the Wen remnants still need it for protection. “Wen-guniang, we’ll be sure to find a safe solution for your family’s trouble before Wei Wuxian destroys the Stygian Tiger Seal,” a-jie soothes, but Wen Qing waves her hand, impatient. “I don’t mean that. Wei Wuxian can’t destroy the seal,” she says, “because it will kill him.” Jiejie flinches, face white as mourning robes. The words are so blunt, so harsh, compared to what he’s used to hearing from Wei Wuxian. His brother always talks around problems, rhymes them out till they seem distant and thin as clouds. “What do you mean?” he demands. “Is it all the resentment here? Some kind of backlash from the seal itself? He said he’d healed himself with resentful energy — is the seal part of that?” Wen Qing hesitates now, lips parting slightly as her dark eyes scour his face. There’s something in her gaze, soft deep well that he flinches from. “Jiang-zongzhu, he didn’t heal himself with the seal,” she says, gentle as an execution. “It’s what’s keeping him alive.”

[workingchemistry]

Ooh what about a platonic O!Jay and Dami for 27 and 33??? Can you do that or is it against the rules?

There are no rules in this popsicle stand. Its anarchy. I was only going to do an outline-y kind of thing but y’all really came in here with those good ideas so now I have no choice. ;)

It took a couple hours to hunt Damian down, but Jason was determined. Damian might have League training, but Jason... Jason is a heavily pregnant omega and he refuses to be separated from his pup. Especially when his pup has been vomiting for the past day and a half and was hiding it.

The hole in the wall is well hidden, and small enough that Jason really shouldn’t have been able to fit through it, but he made it work. Even if he did have to pause to catch his breath after.

The lump of nest in the corner of the hidden room seems promising, so that’s where Jason heads first. He crouches at the edge of the nest, not inviting himself in, but does reach out to stroke Dami’s flusher cheek with a soft croon.

“Todd.” Damian eases up one elbow, frantically trying to push Jason away. “You can’t be here. The pups—“

“The pups are safe and sound.” Jason rubs over his swollen belly, reassured by the life kicking at his palms. He takes Damian’s hand and lets him feel the violent declaration of health from six tiny feet. “See?”

Damian might not be the most omegan of omegas, a trait he shares with Jason, but he can be won over by a baby belly as easily as any other member of their caste. A soft coo escapes Dami’s throat before he pulls back and sets himself to rights. “As pleased as I am to hear that, I know that they should most definitely not be exposed to whatever illness I carry.”

With a tsk, Jason waves that fear away and invites himself into the nest. Damian is much larger than he used to be, it would appear that both of the Wayne omegas are doomed to be alpha sized, but he still has a little height on the teen. It’s enough of an advantage that he can wrap around Damian and envelop his sick pup in his scent. He rubs their jaws together, purring when Damian submits without further argument.

“How did you find me?” Damian asks. He sounds put out as he nudges a pillow back into place with his toe.

Jason nips his earlobe lightly in rebuke before massaging over Damian’s collarbone with the base of his palm. “Maybe next time you see fit to involve your mate in your deception, you ought to make sure he knows that he’s in on it.”

“Blast, Jon.” Damian hisses, half rising to grip his katana. Seconds later it catches up to him. His squawk is cute, even if his swat stings more than it should. “Jon is not my mate.”

“You might not share bite marks yet, but you’re most certainly mates.” Jason croons as he tucks Damian closer. “That boy worships the ground you walk on.”

“Tt.” Damian grudgingly nuzzles at the scent glands over Jason’s collarbones. “His only useful quality.”

In return Jason merely rumbles in amusement. His biggest pup is warm and snuggly in his arms while his smallests all turn summersaults in his stomach. Just another month or so and he can hold them all in his arms. Somehow, despite the pain and stretch marks and constant need to pee, he thinks he’ll miss this eventually.

“He—“ Damian swallows, staring at his fist. “He asked me to mate him.”

“Dami.” Jason breathes out, clutching his pup closer. Joy, relief, pain all flood his chest with the warmth of such emotions. “What did you say?”

“I told him not to be ridiculous, we were on a stakeout.” Damian looks up. “Do you think he meant it?”

“That kid looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, Dami.” Jason finger combs through Damian’s hair. It seems like his pup is all grown up now, nearly mated himself. It’s been a long time coming, according to Uncle Clark, Jon started saving his allowance at twelve just so he could show Bruce that he was worthy of courting Damian.

Jason presses a kiss to Damian’s sweaty forehead. “Dami, Jon adores you. If you don’t like him in return, then definitely don’t accept his nest, but...” it’s hard to swallow down his plea for Damian to stay his pup forever,” “but if you love him, I think you would be hard put to do much better.”

“His nests don’t have orange.” Damian whispers. If the others were around, they might laugh. But they’re alphas, they don’t understand how much it means to know someone pays attention to the things that make you feel safe, even when it’s something as stupid and silly as a color. “I didn’t even have to say anything to him. His nests never have orange or yellow.”

“Sounds like he’s perfect.”

“Will father be mad?”

“Bruce has had plenty of time to resign himself to you mating Jon.” Jason teases. “Dick has been advocating for you two since you were smaller pups. Haven’t you noticed how lax the meta rule has been lately?”

Damian hums, the notes fading to purrs. “I’m meeting with Jon tomorrow. He asked me to dress nice.”

“We’ll find you something designer that’ll make the kid burn in Hell with his lust.” Jason promises, his own purr growing in strength as Damian rubs over the triplets, coaxing them back to sleep.

[inquistior-a]

@bornpariah​ asked:     𝙸 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙳𝙼𝙸𝚁𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚀𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚂.

    “Do you think me unaware of your admirable qualities? Or do you seek to reinforce their value by always reminding me?”  The Inquisitor’s brow is arched playfully, enough humour in the warmth of his eyes to thoroughly soften the slight edge to his words. Of course he is aware. They both know that Halwn is unforgivably aware of how specifically and confoundingly fine the mage is, so keen in that awareness that it feels half-cruel for Dorian to remind him—even in teasing.

    There has been a tremendous amount of teasing.

   The scene between them now��not yet half-drunk, sitting on the steps of a darkened stairwell only a few risers apart, avoiding the rabble of the party they are obligated to appear at to secure some invitation or another, glad for the thin excuse to almost let the toes of their boots touch across the distance—is punishingly reminiscent of some various scenes that have played out in Halwn’s life before. Once or twice, at least, but for what is missing. Dorian hasn’t smiled at him in a way that Halwn suspects that he is able, haughty and inviting. A wordless demand that Halwn would bend to without the slightest hesitance, if given the chance. Surely, Dorian knows that, too. His wish, Halwn’s command. The Inquisitor has not been subtle, after all.

    That is, of course, part of the problem. The command. Halwn’s titles, his position. The very real possibility that Dorian simply wants to save the world, not complicate his already complicated life further by indulging the Inquisitor’s obvious desire to tip his head back and kiss him senseless. Dorian values his senses. As he should. Halwn values those senses, too.

    The silence has caught on in that particular way, that way that it tends to between them. The way that indicates that Halwn is thinking of doing something patently,  achingly,  adoringly stupid. Dorian gives him that look, that warning look, that offers no room for argument against it. There will be no discussion of this tonight, it seems. Another tonight, and another tomorrow, then, gone much the same way. Not wasted, of course. Not wasted when they are together, in whatever capacity, though Halwn feels a sharp spike of self-reproach at how easily he accepts less than what he wants. If he were to bend now and kiss Dorian, stretch over him on the stairs, cradle the back of the mage’s head in his hand to have the freedom to kiss the breath out of him without smarting his skull against the stones—

  Halwn pushes himself to his feet and descends a little, and then lingers on the step below where the mage is artfully reclining. He thinks that he can almost hear Dorian’s heart accelerating in his chest, fighting in his breast like a bird. As though reading Halwn’s mind by some dark art or another. Yet Dorian’s face wears the same quizzical, commanding expression, utterly unflinching. He’s a brave man. Fierce, and sharply tenacious. The thought only makes Halwn all the more tempted to kiss him at last. But there is something brittle beneath Dorian’s face, too, beneath his sleek and beautiful facade. Fear. A perfectly understandable, and justified, fear.

    For men like them, love is always a risk—and a man like Halwn, in particular? The Herald of Andraste, the Maker’s Chosen? What a spectacularly bad bet he is likely to be, in the end. It is not a deal he’s willing to entice Dorian to make, Halwn reminds himself, no matter the power of his own desires. His fate will be the same at any likely outcome, but Dorian’s happiness is at risk. His trust, and his willingness to trust. Halwn does not wish to wager that kind of currency.

    It is, all of it, too precious to be unwillingly risked.

    Whatever happens, Dorian must invite it. Some day. Sooner, hopefully, rather than the later that is likely to involve an Archdemon and a field of magickally enhanced fire. Halwn would like to be so certain of his own good intentions. But he’s a military man, too, and a military leader, and he knows how wars like this one are usually won. Gradually, softly—so softly that they do not seem to be fought at all.

   There is only a single candelabara still lit along the staircase and, rather unfairly, its light is draped across Dorian’s shape, reclining on the stairs in all his white and gold silk, all his appealingly flushed skin. He’s been dancing. That thought alone causes an unhappy and utterly ridiculous drop of Halwn’s stomach. It’s not jealousy, precisely, so much as it is a sense of loss. He wants Dorian to be happy in that simple way, and he’d not begrudge him a moment of it —but Halwn also wants to be a part of it, with an admittedly jealous want.

   “The Maker made us all from the same dirt, so the Sisters say.”

    Halwn cants a brow and forces himself to smile, though he’s sure it will be perceived as thin. Dorian’s no fool. It is thin, stretched by the insistent longing that he feels to forgo conversation unless it is to say:  I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a year. Every day, though it seems impossible, I find I love you more.  They’re not foolhardy boys, making eyes on someone else’s staircase. Testing invisible boundaries. Are they? What should Halwn say? The truth?  Kiss me. I will spend every day for the rest of my life, short as it may be, desperate to make you happy.

    Even to him, it sounds like a poor bargain. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Halwn is going to do it anyway, with or without the kiss.

    That thought lightens him, and Halwn’s smile grows a little warmer, a little more sly. Rather than retreat, he steps into the stairs and bends his body slightly, over Dorian—nearly the same as he’d thought of doing, though missing the press of them together. No, he’d not go that far unasked. He holds himself at a passable distance with a hand on the riser just above and beside Dorian’s head, unable to resist a slight grin at the offended, almost appalled expression on the mage’s face at their sudden proximity. Dorian had given him that look, after all. That should have been the end of it. Still, even as the mage begins to turn towards indignity at Halwn’s sudden defiance of their rehearsed rules, the Inquisitor lifts his own chin and takes keen note of the way that Dorian, perhaps unaware of it, tips his head back just a little in a perfect, answering accommodation of the motion—as if in anticipation of a kiss that hasn’t yet been delivered.

    Halwn smiles, and draws a breath of the scent at Dorian’s throat, the same that’s in his hair, citrus and amber and a faint dark, floral spice, all mingled with skin and its sillage spread by the already long evening, and stands back.

   “I will say, unpressed, that you have polished yourself to a far finer sheen than the rest of us seem able—”  the mirth is gone from Halwn’s posture, replaced with an almost apologetic affection. It’s not his intent to push until something breaks, to trample over boundaries. That is not his nature. Still, he does want, in a way that has gone long unsatisfied—just a sign would be enough, such as Dorian has sometimes given him. A lingering look, an involuntary smile. An apple. An abundance of healing energy. Three long passages read aloud from a book that Halwn could not begin to honestly understand. A coy touch. A sharp rebuke. What else? A kiss. One, and Halwn would be satisfied.

    Halwn’s not a liar, so he doesn’t say such a thing aloud. Instead, he smooths a hand down the front of his jacket, sweeps a hand back through his hair, and sets his soft eyes on Dorian one last time in the dim light of the stairwell. Looks at him a little, and dips his head in appropriate contrition.

    “I should say goodnight. Elsewise, I believe there is a chance that it might go ill between us, and you might end the evening cross with me.”

    Dorian doesn’t answer, but Halwn thinks he hears a quick inhalation.

    “Goodnight, Dorian. Enjoy the party.”

    If you dance with another, please, think all the time of me.