#me trying to write without mentioning food or death challenge IMPOSSIBLE

[plumbogs]

happy (late) world goth day i bring you all an offering: featuring mortimer goth as a POV character

[angryschnauzer]

Distraction

Summary: As a junior CIA agent you are added to a mission to help with scientific analysis, but when half the team are hospitalised you have to suddenly become a hands on field agent, alongside August Walker and Will Shaw. When the final part of the mission at a tropical plant glass house has an unexpected side affect, you have to work as a team to survive the night.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader x Will Shaw Fandoms: Mission Impossible: Fallout (Movie), The Cold Light of Day (Movie), Henry Cavill - Actor.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Sex Pollen, Threesome, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Blowjob, Cum Play, Double Penetration, Anal Sex.

A/N: This is my first time writing the Sex Pollen trope, so i hope you like it. Fic is unbeta’d; only the finest free range organic typos for me. I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will then get an alert when i post something new.

Back catalogue can be found on AO3 Link Here, or you can follow my facebook page HERE.

 Distraction

 If there had been someone narrating a movie of this mission, the first line would have been ‘it was a simple mission’. However, they would have been lying. The mission was far from simple, it was convoluted, complicated, and the team fucking hated each other.

 The team were scheduled to arrive via two flights, from opposite directions of the globe as not to arouse suspicions that a large team would do if anyone was picked up on facial recognition. You had been brought on board because of your scientific and tech background, and as the team were tasked with retrieving the formula for the most dangerous biological weapon in the world, you were the one that would check they had the right thumb drive before the mission was able to be called a success. There would be multiple extraction points, numerous undercover assignments that would all lead to the final extraction at the gala dinner.

 That was the plan. What actually happened was the half of the team coming in from Dallas ended up with severe food poisoning and were currently being hospitalised in a local treatment facility. That left just your half of the team, and the senior agent now in charge was none too happy about it;

 “I��ve got a fucking chemistry nerd and a number cruncher for a hands on mission that requires multiple scenes where infiltration and distraction are needed, and neither of you have any fucking field work!”

 August Walker hated everyone and made sure he did everything he could so that everyone hated him in return. The other member of the team quietly ground his teeth, Walker never once let him forget that he came into this agency completely by accident following a rogue faction and a situation that started with the death of his CIA Agent father, and resulted in smashing up half of Madrid’s traffic in a 24 hour long series of car chases;

 “I was a stockbroker, and i didn’t hear anyone complaining when i discovered the currency discrepancies that found us the targets insider trading”

 Will Shaw was so similar yet so different to Walker it was startling, you even thought they looked similar enough to be long lost brothers, but never dared to mention it.

 The hotel suite had all the facilities you needed to set up a small command post, with enough counter space to set up the laptops and work-stations, whilst not getting under each other's feet. However it was still small enough for the two men to continually bicker and make snide remarks at each other, and you had to push the earpiece of your surveillance equipment closer to your ear to hear, finally you heard what you needed to, holding your hand up and clicking your fingers at the two men who immediately silenced and crossed the room;

 “They’re going to be at the MMA Gym in thirty minutes”

 “Okay” Walker huffed; “We need to extract the codes from his device that will give us access for the holding location. You and Shaw take the gym and cause the distraction, i’ll get the codes”

 Will shook his head;

 “Not gonna work”

 “It's not?” you were surprised

 “The gym is men only, the only women are administration and janitorial”

 “That’s fucking antiquated” August spat out in disgust.

 You had to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth, that August Walker of all people would be an advocate for equal rights, but nonetheless started to prepare for the first distraction.

 -

 Walker and Shaw had entered the building separately but within 5 minutes of each other, signing in under false names and keeping it simple and silent as they started training on the weights and cardio machines in the gym. You had already entered through the basement deliveries door which you’d been able to pick the lock of, finding a staff uniform t-shirt in the storeroom and pulling it on over your top. You could hear both men through their hidden comms, and within a couple of minutes pretending to sort out a cleaning kart that you knew the morning crew had finished with, you heard the code word that the target had entered the weights room.

 Seconds later you were tentatively pushing the door to the locker room open, calling out;

 “Housekeeping!”

 You had no idea if they called themselves housekeeping or janitorial staff or whatever, but when you didn’t get a reply you quickly entered the room and did what needed to be done. 

 Through your ear piece you could hear the first stage of the distraction starting, with your two fellow agents starting to challenge the other to out lift each other, and from the muffled background noise you could tell that they were drawing a crowd of onlookers.

 Tapping your comms you alerted Walker and Shaw that you’d been successful, and that it was time for them to leave. But as you got no response you quickly made your way out of the locker room through the other exit, only to find yourself in a glass walled corridor, the gym on the other side of the glass. What surprised you however was that there was now a huge crowd of spectators as they watched your two agents try to pull out more reps on the bicep curl machine. Scowling you grabbed a cloth and bottle of spray cleaner and squirted the glass, glaring at the two of them before they finally saw you;

 “Its time to go, dumbasses. Finish the contest. I’ll be in the car in the street behind the building”

 -

 Pushing through the door of the hotel suite you scrunched your nose as Will pushed past you, August not far behind;

 “You two need a shower… did you really need to get that sweaty?”

 “Well… you wanted the distraction to look convincing, didn’t you?” Will shot back, stripping his t-shirt off, already halfway to the bathroom.

 A quiet cough behind you drew your attention away from Will’s sculpted back muscles;

 “When you’re done staring at Shaw…”

 “I...I wasn’t stare…”

 “Whatever sweetheart, either way; you two need to change”

 Looking down at your outfit you pulled at the gym t-shirt;

 “Yeah, i can just find a utility shirt or something…”

 “No, you’re front of house with me. Will’s taking the extraction of the thumb drive”

 “But...I didn’t bring an outfit…”

 August nodded to a pile of bags in the corner of the room from the agents that hadn’t made it to the mission but their luggage had;

 “So check Marianne’s, she is about the same size as you. Either way its you and me sweetheart, now get dolled up, you can’t go to a gala looking like that”

 -

 Twenty minutes later you took a deep breath; you’d found Marianne’s bag and had found that although she was a similar size to you, it was one size smaller. She also had a completely different taste and style to makeup and you were now way out of your comfort zone. The red lipstick however seemed to work, a touch of gold bronzing powder across your shoulders and chest made the red silk dress really work for you. Adjusting the straps so they sat over the top of your bra, the pretty floral pattern hopefully not too noticeably jarring against the sultry silk. Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the small dressing room and came face to face with Will;

 “Oh hey” he looked you up and down before clearing his throat; “Looks good”

 “Yeah?” you smoothed the dress down over your stomach

 “I mean… the bra kinda takes away from the look… but yeah, it looks really good”

 “I...I didn’t have anything suitable for a gala, this is Marianne’s… from her bag…”

 Will stood in front of you, reaching his hand around your back and with a quick snap of his fingers he’d unfastened your bra;

 “It really will look better without the bra… trust me…”

 Without another word he turned and crossed the room, pulling his tie from his bag, fastening it as August emerged from the other room;

 “Agent. Bra off, now”

 Shimmying the offending garment down your arms you pulled it out of your dress as he crossed the room;

 “I don’t see why…”

 “Because the people at this gala have got so much money they flaunt what they’ve got. You’ve got to fit in” He held his finger out and you hooked it over the protruding digit.

 “We’d better get going… the gala is about to start”

 With a nod August grabbed the keys to the BMW you’d been assigned and tossed them to Will; he was taking on the role of Driver and Bodyguard to your’s and August’s ‘couple’, the three of you filed out of the room and into the elevator.

 The ride down the highrise hotel was slow, and you could feel both men’s eyes on you as they stood behind you, before the doors finally opened to the basement parking. You struggled to keep up with them as they strode out with their long legs, the heels of your stiletto sandals clicking on the cement. Finally as you reached the car you were surprised as August opened the door for you, not uttering a word as he watched you climb in before he rounded the car and slid into the back seat beside you.

 You’d barely had time to fasten your seatbelt before Will was peeling out of the hotel parking with a squeal of tyres and you were heading to your destination.

 “Panties, off” August’s words surprised you

 “W-WHAT?!”

 “Panties. Take them off”

 “Agent Walker…”

 “They dig into the meat of your hips and take the attention away from the sexiness of the dress. You need to fit in tonight”

 “B-b-but…” you attempted to stall, but without another word August pulled your knees towards him and slid his hands beneath your dress. He grasped the thin elastic straps that ran over your hips and pulled hard, snapping the fragile pieces of fabric and pulling the now ruined undergarments. Glancing at Will he had a brief smirk on his face but quickly looked away, concentrating on the road ahead. 

 -

 The gala was amazing, and it was hard not to get absorbed into the evening as if you were a real guest. You could hear everything through the hidden comms units in your ears, and apart from the occasional grunt as Will silently passed the guards as he made his way further into the underground chambers that ran below the massive glasshouse the gala was in, it seemed to all be going exactly to plan. The host had announced for everyone to celebrate, and you had found yourselves being swept onto the dancefloor, and suddenly you were in August’s arms as he held you close, the music thankfully loud enough to drown out your conversation from the ears of others;

 “Do you think he’s getting on ok?”

 “He’d say if he wasn’t” August assured you as he moved in time to the music, his hand on your lower back pulling you closer to his body. At that very moment you both heard a guttural cry through the comms, your eyes wide in panic as he grabbed your hand and you quickly made your way through the crowd;

 “Shaw, come in… are you ok?”

 You heard gurgling on the comms and watched as August pulled out his phone and activated the trackers that you all wore, the two of you coming up together on screen, but the third - Will’s - showing as on the level below and not moving.

 -

 The stairs had been hell in your heels, eventually you’d kicked them off and had run barefoot behind August, chasing him around corners and along corridors, before he’d finally come to a halt in front of a sealed door, his phone showing that Will was in the room behind it.

 “Stand back”

 You took a couple of steps back and watched as August kicked the door, the deafening bang as it broke from its hinges and splintered in was immediately forgotten as a sudden rush of air came out of the room, covering him in a dusting of strange grey-pinkish powder. He fell to the floor coughing and you rushed to his side;

 “Check on Shaw! I’m fine!”

 Quickly entering the room you looked around, finally seeing Will laying on the floor, he too was covered in the powder. Kneeling at his side you checked his pulse, relieved to find one as he opened his eyes and groaned.

 “What happened? Are you ok?”

 “Stop fussing, i’m fine… we gotta get out of here. Security will be on their way…”

 At that moment August appeared at your side;

 “Did you get it?”

 “Yeah, i got it”

 Will held out the thumb drive and pushed it into your hand as August pulled him to his feet, and they attempted to dust themselves off as the three of you staggered down the hallway and out of the fire exit.

 -

 Pushing into the hotel room, both Will and August had already shed the majority of their clothing, now dressed in just their smart dress pants and under shirts, still coughing from the dust cloud that lingered in their airways. You’d run the briefest of tests with the tiny blood monitor that you’d kept in the car to ensure it wasn’t a known nerve agent or poison before you’d even left the extraction point, thankfully the results being negative, but both men needed to wash off whatever it was as soon as possible. But first, you needed a proper sample;

 “Agent Shaw, i need to take some blood, hair and saliva, run it through the test software, to see if whatever it was has synthesised into your bloodstream” you nodded to the small scientific station you’d set up at the end of the table, the case having contained tiny gadgets that amounted to a microscope, a mass spectrometer, and other testing equipment… the whole point of why you in particular had been placed on this mission.

 A minute later you’d collected the samples, trying hard not to get flustered as Will had stood in front of you bare chested and in just his underwear, heat radiating from his body;

 “So what do you think it is?”

 “I have no idea”

 “Well i’m burning up, i need to take a shower”

 Quickly loading the samples into the rapid mass spectrometer you turned to Agent Walker to check his vitals and let out a tiny squeak of surprise when you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in just his underwear. His chest was flushed and he had a sheen of sweat over his entire body;

 “I guess i’m next?”

 Pressing your hand to his forehead you could feel he was burning up;

 “I’m going to check your temperature first”

 Quickly using the thermal reader you could see that his core temp was heading towards fever;

 “I’m going to take the samples then as soon as Will is out of the shower you need to get in there”

 “Yes Ma’am” he chuckled, closing his eyes as you pushed your fingers through his hair to pluck a sample strand. The powder had caught in the strands and it was only as you combed your fingers through the dark locks did you realise he had soft curls. As you tried to separate them he let out a groan as you stroked his scalp. He swayed a little even though he was sitting down, and before you could do anything his hands were on your hips to steady himself, the heat almost searing through the silk of your dress. 

 Finally having got all the samples you needed you reluctantly pulled away, not saying a word as he simply flopped back onto the bed with a smirk on his face. You busied yourself preparing the test samples from Agent Walker, the machine finishing with Shaw’s. You were vaguely aware of the shower being turned off and the men moving around the room, before the shower was on again and you presumed it was August in there.

 Peering at the saliva samples through the microscope you frowned, the particles present completely organic and very familiar.

 “So what is the diagnosis Doc?”

 Will’s voice surprised you, and as you jumped and turned your eyes went wide when you saw he was in just a towel, tied low on his waist as he drank from a bottle of water.

 “Y-You don’t want to put some clothes on?”

 He looked down at himself, almost surprised to find he was only wearing a towel and shrugged;

 “No point, the way i’m burning up i’ll be naked soon” he nodded to the screen; “So?”

 Turning your attention back to the screen you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry;

 “Well… it seems organic, spores of some kind. Its hard to tell what they are from, but their chemical make-up is unique. The only time i’ve seen anything similar is in isolated microclimates that are cut off from the rest of nature… there was this one… in a volcano… a pollen from a plant that grew in tropical climates…” you trailed off as you sensed another presence now flanking your other side, glancing away from the microscope, taking in the sight of August in an identical outfit to Will, his broad expanse of chest at eye level as he bent down to look into the microscope.

 “Hmmn… so, how’s it gonna affect us? The gala was in a fucking giant greenhouse; you saw the plants they were growing there, some of them were 20ft tall and looked like they’d come from another planet. Do we need to pop an antihistamine or something, what’s it gonna do?”

 Standing you quickly slid out from between the two barely dressed men, checking the mass spectrometer and frowning;

 “It seems to be elevating your testosterone levels…” you peered at the saliva results; “...and pheromones… your bodies are heating up where your body is fighting against the pollen, its affecting all your hormones...”

 “Pheromones…” Will mused; “... that’s the sex hormones, right?”

 “Urrr…” you faltered, looking up at the two men who were now looking at you like hungry wolves.

 August stepped closer;

 “Sweetheart, i think you’d better get yourself tested too…” he paused, his finger hooking beneath the thin strap of your dress, making you acutely aware you were completely naked beneath it; “... cos’ i could smell you from across the room… and you smell so sweet right now…”

 You went to take a step back, only to bump into the hard expanse of Will’s naked chest, his hand curling around your arm;

 “C’mon, lets get you tested…”

 You were suddenly putty in their hands, your head swimming and it was only then that you realised you were burning up. It felt like you had a core of lava within you, and the only thing you could liken it to was a hot flash, your body flushed with heat. You recalled the time you’d overheard a much older agent talking to her friends, unaware you had been in the room and she’d spilled the beans on how she would recover from an episode and calm her hormones down... with the help of her husband.

 As your head had been swirling, Will had taken your blood sample and had loaded it into the mass spectrometer, having watched as you’d shown him before the mission. But you could barely concentrate;

 “I...I know how to counteract the affects of the pollen…” you panted out, unsteady on your feet as you swayed and August caught you in his arms

 “Oh yes?”

 “En… Endorphins… they counteract… they burn off the pheromones…”

 You felt hot breath on the back of your neck as Will pressed against you;

 “I’m not a scientist, but i know how to create endorphins…” 

 His lips made contact with your neck and you turned to jelly, your head resting against his shoulder and your eyelids drooping, barely open, yet you had enough of your senses to be aware of August in front of you, pulling the straps of your dress down your arms, you pliable in his hands as he stripped you of your only remaining garment, pressing his lips to your over heated skin as went as the silk pooled at your feet;

 “So beautiful…”

 “Absolutely” Will agreed from behind, his lips grazing over your jawline as his arms reached around you and cupped your tender breasts; “We need to work as a team to get through this… what are the hazards of hot flashes then Doc?”

 “Y-Y-You can over heat your brain… your heart could give out…”

 “Uh-huh… and endorphins will help stop this?” August enquired, his breath hot on your naked chest

 “Y-yeah…”

 That was the last word spoken for a very long time. From that point on the only sounds in the room were hums of pleasure combined with the carnal soundtrack of three bodies moving towards the inevitable. By the time you got to the bed both men had lost their towels, hard naked bodies pressed against your soft curves, sculpted hard muscle available everywhere you touched, and oh did you touch… and caress and stroke, the second you’d reciprocated their affections they had softened to your touch, sighs of pleasure as your fingertips gave them just the slightest relief.

 You found yourself sandwiched between the two men on the soft covers of the king-size bed, each taking turns to capture your lips for searing kisses, each having their own unique talent and style with their tongues. When you were deep in August’s embrace you felt Will move down the bed, his hands pulling your legs apart before he pressed kisses up your inner thighs and his mouth made contact with your soaked folds. The cry of pleasure that erupted from your mouth broke the kiss, yet August didn’t seem to mind as your hand had found its way to being wrapped around his weeping shaft, tugging him sloppily as you struggled to concentrate;

 “That’s it Sweetheart, you don’t need to be gentle… i like it rough…”

 You tried to answer, but Will’s tongue had found your soaked entrance as his hand curled around your thigh and sought out your clit, the pleasure he was giving you was too intense to allow you to form coherent words. August claimed your lips again for another searing kiss, humming his appreciation as you worked your hand over his heated flesh.

 Before you knew it you were coming hard, your orgasm tearing through your body as you ground your core against Will’s face, his eyes sparkling from between your thighs, and as you were floating on the high of the afterglow you could feel the two men moving you, adjusting you to suit their needs.

 On all fours on the bed you were faced with August’s dick, opening your mouth instinctively to take him deep, the heavy weight on your tongue a welcome feeling. Saliva spilled from the corners of your mouth as you struggled to stretch around his girth. At the same time you felt Will’s powerful thighs pressing against the back of your own, the velvet touch of his bulbous crown pressing to your still trembling hole before with a grunt he thrust into your soft body.

 There were only grunts and gasps of pleasure, the two men rocking your body between them as they defiled you in the basest of ways, but that you were eager to participate in, the mixing of pheromones in the room removing your inhibitions, knowing that it was an act of survival. You could feel your body climbing again, your orgasm imminent. You felt the first salty tang of August’s seed on your tongue, the tensing of his muscles as his body prepared to release into the welcome warmth of your mouth. His massive hand cupped your chin and pulled your head up to look him in the eye as he finally reached his peak, grunting curses as he pumped thick ropes over your tongue, raining praise upon you as you swallowed everything he gave you. 

 August fell back onto the pillows, but before you could let gravity take hold of you too Will wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you upright until you were pressed against his chest, his hips thrusting as he filled you so deliciously from behind. Through lust soaked gaze you watched August watching the pair of you as you fucked in front of him, his eyes travelling down your heated body until he was watching where your bodies were joined, how Will’s thick cock stretched you out so well.

 “Get your finger on her clit Shaw, i wanna watch you make her come undone”

 Doing as the senior agent instructed, Will snaked a hand down your stomach, rubbing tight firm circles against your sensitive bud as he continued to fill you, until you were shaking, hanging onto the precipice of pleasure and that final flick of his finger was enough to set off another orgasm. 

 The vice-like grip of your velvet walls was the final trigger for Will, and with a sin filled groan he pushed in one last time and you could feel him spilling deep inside you.

 Finally he pulled out, carefully setting you down onto the soft bedcovers. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the burning deep in your body seemed to be sated. You felt the men moving around the bed, a large hand cupping the back of your neck before lifting you from the bed a little;

 “Drink…”

 Opening your eyes, you watched as August lifted a water bottle to your lips, making sure you gulped down the chilled water before pulling away;

 “How… how are you guys feeling?”

 He turned and sat on the bed beside you, his finger trailing down your neck and between your breasts, and only then could you see the sheen as his skin glistened with sweat, a droplet running down his abdomen to where his cock stood hard and proud from a thatch of dark curls;

 “Not… not quite done yet…”

 Gently pushing you back down onto the bed he tossed the empty bottle aside before crawling atop of you, capturing your mouth with his as you felt the nudge of his hardened dick breach your body, his wide expanse of chest pressing you to the bed. He didn’t start out gentle and it only got rougher, ploughing into your body as he sought to relieve the effects of the pollen coursing through his veins like fire, burning within him until all that was left was red hot embers of passion. Your body writhed beneath him, begging for more, eagerly taking whatever he could give.

 He hit spots you didn’t know existed, your back arching with pleasure as he filled you, your hardened nipples almost too sensitive from his chest hair roughly rubbing against them, the stimulation almost too much until the levy broke and you came hard, your fingers digging into his back to leave dark welts, the pain his trigger for the final thrust as he pumped you full of his seed. 

 Finally he rolled off you, laying at your side as your chests heaved, struggling to catch your breath when you felt another hand grasp at your wrist;

 “Babe… please… i need you…”

 Looking to Will you saw a pained look on his face as he sat partially propped up against the pillows, his chest soaked and his dick standing hard and proud;

 “Please…” he begged.

 Somehow you found the energy to move, your body still shaking but yet you straddled his lap, pushing his sweat soaked curls from his face;

 “It’s going to be ok Will, i’ll take care of you… its ok…”

 You sank down onto his waiting body, taking him where August had been only a minute before, the comingled seed lubricating you as this new angle found yet more pleasure points that had remained undiscovered until then. Wills hands moved to your hips, his grip tight as he gritted his teeth and moved you on his lap, rocking you to ride him like a rodeo stallion. Sweat dripped down your body, rivulets running between your breasts as you threw your head back and basked in the flood of pleasure chemicals soaking your brain. The haze of lust clouding time and space as you came to another orgasm, Will filling you with another load of his thick cum, your cries of pleasure finally ebbing away as you collapsed on his heaving chest, his hands stroking your back whilst your bodies stayed joined.

 A pair of strong arms lifted you off of Will and set you down on the mattress, August’s dark smile haunting over you as he parted your legs and kissed down your thigh, before with a smirk he bit the soft flesh. It wasn’t enough to break the skin but the pleasure pain receptors in your mind were immediately set off again, and you knew that even if you couldn’t see the mark you’d feel it for days to come. He lifted your legs and parted them, his face at your centre, yet where his tongue ended up you let out a squeak of surprise as he circled your back entrance. 

 “Oh, OH… August…”

 “Mmmnnfff” was all that could be heard as he pushed his tongue at your asshole, his thumb pressing against your clit as he worked you open, your body deceiving you as a fierce orgasm washed over you almost immediately. When he pulled away he had a smug look on his face;

 “Thought as much… hold tight…”

 He quickly disappeared to the bathroom, before returning with a small bottle in his hand. Pouring some of the liquid contained within on his fingers, he worked the oil over your skin before pushing his thick finger into your ass, eagerly praising you as he worked your body until you were ready.

 “Walker… hurry up and fuck her… i’m burning up here, i need another round…” Will gasped out as August moved you.

 “C’mere then Shaw, we’re never gonna get this out of our systems if we have to wait to take turns…”

 Even through the haze of the pollen Will immediately got what August was saying, the pair of them pulling you from the bed before Will took you into his arms;

 “Jump…”

 With a surprising amount of strength Will pulled you up, your legs hooked over his forearms as he angled his hips to push his dick back into your cum soaked cunt, letting gravity help as he sank deep. Just as you thought you were about to overbalance a hard chest pressed against your back, August stooping behind you as he took his iron hard dick in hand and sought out purchase on your ass;

 “Gonna take this as slow as i can Sweetheart…”

 Slow didn’t seem slow enough, and you cursed Newton and the laws of physics as the same forces that had pulled you down onto Will did the same with August, leaving you gasping for air as you were filled in both holes. The boys held you up, in place and still whilst they resisted ravaging your body, fighting against the pollen until they could no longer hold back and they unleashed their raw power upon your body. Fucking you in tandem with the thinnest of walls separating themselves inside you, they defiled your body as you begged for more; harder, deeper, faster. It was never enough.

 -

 The night ebbed away into the mists of time, each sex act more depraved than the last, the three of you driving the deadly force of the pollen from your bodies in an endless battle of lust.

The last thing you recalled was the sun rising as the two men stood before your kneeling body, spraying your face and breasts with a final load before sleep finally claimed your sated body.

 -

 Bright light streamed in the window and you winced as your head pounded. A deep voice could be heard but you weren’t listening. A warm body beside you shifted and a large warm hand pressed to your aching abdomen, soothing the overworked muscles. A soft pair of lips pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and the lack of moustache told you it was Will that was spooning you.

 “C’mon Agents, rise and shine” August barked from the bathroom doorway, packing his things; “Got a flight to catch in two hours, debriefing in twelve”

 -

 Closing the file you nodded at your superiors, their approval of a good job done ringing praises in your ears as the debriefing ended, people pushing their chairs out and making small talk as they were dismissed for the weekend and a well deserved rest.

 Walking to the elevator you didn’t make eye contact, trying hard not to wince as your thighs rubbed together and you felt the bite that August had given you, wanting to avoid any probing questions. You’d skimmed over a lot in your report, mainly the sex-pollen induced orgy that had taken place, but as the thumb drive with the vital data on had been recovered no-one was concentrating on the part between the retrieval and the debriefing.

 The elevator dinged as the doors opened, and absentmindedly you stepped in, looking out of the glass windows as you were only partially aware of just a few other passengers. It was only when you realised you were flanked on both sides did you look up and see that August and Will were either side of you. 

 With a smirk August handed you a file;

 “This wasn’t needed for the debriefing”

 You flicked it open and saw that it was the mobile test data from the hotel room;

 “Yes, probably for the best” you agreed, your throat dry.

 As you held the pages Will pointed to a trio of lines towards the bottom. For a moment you stared at the numbers before you recognised what they meant;

 “That’s our results…”

 You felt August’s breath hot on your ear as he whispered;

 “Look at yours…”

 You saw the readings of Will and August’s blood count, of the pheromone saturation… then you saw yours;

 “But… but that can’t be right…”

 “You know that equipment better than anyone else… when has it ever been wrong?”

 The elevator reached the Lobby and everyone filed out, August and Will stopping and nodding to the bar across the street;

 “We’ll be catching a drink or two… you’re welcome to join us once you’ve taken in the test data…”

 You nodded, speechless, staring at the data in black and white. It couldn’t be wrong; it was never wrong. It was clear as day.

 You hadn’t been infected by the pollen.

[obwjam]

would you be able to do a Mandalorian/Pedro Pascal x borrower??

I guess the plot would be where grogu finds the borrower, the borrower is like terrified to death and then mando finds them, and like he has to do something that’ll make them trust him or something?

btw i’ve been reading your stories and prompts like for two hours straight and i just wanna say that i would stay up all night reading your works instead of doing anything else i love them so much 🥺❤️

also, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to, or have a reason not to, i have no idea if you’re still doing requests and stuff or anything. thank you so much though!

ugh oh my gosh thank you thank you!!!! i love to be a sponsor of procrastination. keep up the good work. i truly love the idea of grogu just unknowingly terrorizing a tiny and i’m way overdue to write some mando g/t so let’s go!!!

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Din Djarin found you running for your life, nearly tripping over yourself and screaming so loud that he was sure the entire planet could hear. He was confused at first -- he had never seen a borrower before, and it took him a moment to register what exactly was going on. 

What were you running from exactly? Well, you didn’t know what it was, but it had giant ears, tiny arms, outstretched hands and could waddle as fast as you could run. You recognized the look in its eyes, too. One word: food.

“GROGU! NO!” 

At the sound of another voice, you whipped your head up and subsequently tripped over a rock. You slammed into the ground, gathering yourself for a moment before flipping yourself over and gasping at the sight.

At this point, you kind of wish that fall had killed you. The only thing worse than a bloodthirsty creature trying to eat you was the human who owned it. And, god, you couldn’t even tell where this human started and where he ended. He was covered head-to-toe in shiny metal armor, complete with a dark helmet and some gnarly looking weapons. He looked like a giant-and-a-half. You were done for.

Din cocked his head, tapping the side of his helmet to do a quick scan of you. The scan didn’t tell him much, but it showed him you were four inches tall and scared out of your wits. He frowned at how badly you were shaking.

He held Grogu out in front of him and tilted his head down. “No. No. You can’t be doing that. You hear me? Don’t do that again. No.”

Grogu stared back blankly with a smile and a patoo. Din rolled his eyes and plopped him into his pod before turning his full attention to you. He was surprised that you hadn’t tried to run away, but truth be told, you were frozen in fear. When a human was involved, there was nowhere to run.

Slowly, Din crouched down, trying to a closer look without looming too much. It was impossible to do that, but he was trying. A pang of guilt shot through his stomach as he peered down at you, cowering and starting to cry. Oh boy. 

“Hey, hey...” he started, holding his hands up to show he wasn’t going to do anything. At the movement of his hands, you flinched and moved your arms up to cover your face. 

Din hummed. “No, no. See?” He waved his hands a little. “No weapons. Nothing.”

You gave this curious giant the side-eye. He was clearly a warrior, or a bounty hunter of some kind. Why was he trying to be peaceful?

“What are you doing out here, little guy?” he tried, the helmet masking the true sound of his voice. “There’s a lot of imps around here. It’s not safe.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what imps were, but all of your words were stuck in your chest. You couldn’t tell where this giant was looking or what he was thinking. Not to mention he was absolutely huge. Those boots could crush you in an instant.

“Hmm.” Din spent most of his days talking to a baby who couldn’t speak basic, so this should not have been as big of a challenge as it was. But you were clearly terrified out of your mind with the way your gaze was locked forward and how badly you were trembling. You looked like you were about to vomit. 

“Uh, do you... do you have a name?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Din was about to try another question when the sound of blaster fire filled the air. You both looked toward the source of the sound, and Din quickly whipped his head back to you.

“You need to get out of here. There are some really angry guys coming this way.”

As soon as the giant shifted his position, you assumed the worst. “No!” you cried. “No, pl-please. I... I don’t... please... this--this is my home...”

Din’s eyes went wide as you lost it right in front of him. He could certainly understand your apprehension, but he clearly wasn’t going to hurt you. The Imperials would.

“I know you’re scared, kiddo, but when those Imperials find you, they won’t be as kind to you as I am.” You could barely comprehend what he was trying to tell you. You were far too petrified. Din looked at you, back over his shoulder, and back to you. Those imperials would be here any minute. There was no way you weren’t going to get squashed. He only had one thing left he could do.

“AH!” you shrieked as soon as the gloved hand entered your vision, but it was useless to try to run. Giant digits wrapped around your body, and you clung onto the folds of his glove for dear life as he lifted you into the air at a speed that was far too fast for your liking. Stars popped in and out of your vision as you kicked and punched and yelled in protest. 

Din grimaced, barely able to feel the impact of your struggles. You were clearly overpowered, but more clearly terrified. 

“This is for your own good,” he mumbled, hoping you would hear him as he plopped you down into a brown satchel that was draped over his shoulder. 

Inside the bag, you were clawing for a way out. Screams of LET ME GO! went unheard as the giant started to move. Din was trying his hardest not to jostle you too much, but that was a tall task considering he was fleeing from a legion of stormtroopers who were after the kid.

There were a lot of grunts, screams and blaster bolts, but soon, all was quiet again. You had since shut your eyes and gripped tightly to the walls of the bag to stay stable and ignore the chaos, but it didn’t take long after the violence died down that you realized the giant was still walking somewhere.

“Hey. HEY!” you yelled. Din was ignoring you. There were surely more troopers hot on his tail, so he had to get to the Razor Crest and fast. He pushed Grogu up onto the ship and opened the roof to his pod before hurriedly climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. The deafening sound of the ship powering up made your stomach drop, but it all turned to a soft hum once Din made the jump to hyperspace. 

Light flooded your vision, and you grimaced as that damned hand came reaching for you again. Again, protesting it would be foolish, so you just closed your eyes to fend off the headache that was sure to come when he lifted you too fast. 

Din made sure to go slower this time, and when he held you out in his open palm, he finally got a sense of how small you really were. His fingers were slightly taller than you, and with your knees pulled to your chest, you were more the size of that stupid metal ball Grogu liked to play with. Maybe that’s why he went after you.

“I’m... sorry about that,” Din started, trying to sound earnest. “You were in danger. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

You finally opened your eyes. The view in front of you took your breath away. The sky was swirling blue all around you, but you quickly realized that wasn’t the sky at all. It was space. Hyperspace.

Din huffed a laugh. “First time in space?”

You nodded robotically, forgetting for a moment you were sitting in the palm of a giant. “First time... anywhere.”

Din smirked. He supposed that made sense, but it didn’t make it any less shocking -- or adorable -- to him.

“I’m sorry about Grogu,” he said, as if you were supposed to know who he was talking about. You cocked your head at him. “Grogu. The little green guy that... tried to eat you.”

“Oh.” You shuddered at the memory. “It--it’s okay, I guess.”

A pause.

“I can bring you back to your planet, if you’d like. It wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

You considered this, but something was holding you back. “What... who were those guys? What did they want?”

Din sighed. “Imperials. They were looking for me, but they were also occupying any and all territory they could. I hate to say it, kid, but even if I brought you back, I don’t think your home would be much of a home anymore.”

“It was never that much of a home anyway,” you grumbled. You were surprised that you could tell Din was waiting for you to continue. ��I mean, it’s just. That green guy was not the first thing to try and eat me.”

“Oh.” Din didn’t know what to say. 

“It’s fine. That’s just... how it is.” A beat of silence. “Are you... are you going to sell me?”

“Sell you?” Din was confused. “Why would I sell you?”

“I--I thought -- that’s what humans do, isn’t it? Especially ones like you.”

Din frowned. That was not something he had thought of. “No. I’m not going to sell you.”

“...so what are you gonna do with me?”

“I...” Din faltered. What was he going to do? He was so focused on getting you to safety that he didn’t calculate the long-term implications. Through his helmet, he stared at you, your eyes shaking and pleading with him for mercy. You looked so small compared to the space around you. So vulnerable. Din felt this pull toward you; that protective instinct that caused him to change his life for Grogu. At least the kid could defend himself. You couldn’t.

“You can stay here, with me,” Din offered. “Until we can find you a place to live. How’s that sound?”

“Really?” This giant didn’t seem like the hospitable type, but he just shrugged. 

“You’ll be safe here,” he assured. “I promise.”

“What about... Groku?”

“Grogu,” he smiled. “I’ll make sure he keeps his distance.”

You could barely believe this was happening. You were nearly eaten, discovered by a human, kidnapped and killed; now, he was not only offering you shelter, but something you’ve never had in your entire life: protection. Even if it was a trap, what did it matter? What would be his motivation for lying? If he was offering you a place to be safe... how could you possibly turn it down? He didn’t have to try and save you from the Imperials, but he did. Maybe he was being sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, but failed. “Y-yeah. I guess I’ll stay here. I’ll... try not to get in your way.”

“...don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Din said. He gently moved his hand to the console in front of him and placed it down, allowing you to jump off. Din marveled at how some of the controls practically towered over you. “Is this okay?”

Once you got your bearings, you slowly turned around and fully took in the beauty of what was in front of you. It took up your entire vision like the most amazing spectacle in the galaxy. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t experienced this before.

“Yeah,” you said, turning back to Din, who failed to suppress a smile of his own. “This is perfect.”

[jaskiersvalley]

I JUST READ SALT IN OUR WOUNDS. Chair feeling alone on a battlefield, surrounded by brothers in arms, but not at all his brothers. Feeling ostracised because he doesn't want to see the murder of innocent people. Coming across Eskel as he escapes Nilfgaard, and the two bonding from there. Eskel making his own family in Cahir! Eskel defending Cahir from the other witchers when they're cold to him! I love your writing, it always makes me feel so many things 🧡🧡

Have I ever told you that I love you? Because I do. This is exactly the kind of follow-up I had been thinking about. And I adore the fact that you all but reached into my heart and pulled this out as a prompt. Thank you.

CW: The whole of Kaer Morhen’s residents are selfish idiots.

Not once in his long life had Eskel thought he would rather be on the Path than back at Kaer Morhen. But there he was, relieved to be out of the old keep and grateful that his loneliness was the regular kind that he had grown used to. The isolation of winters with his family had been a new kind of hell that he didn’t really cherish. At least out on the Path, his alienation from the rest of society was the usual, he expected that. But not in his own home.

Over winter a lot had happened. Nilfgaard spread more and Eskel’s usual area for work was now the front line of the war. He discovered it the hard way, could hear the fighting and smell death but curiosity still got the better of him. He crested the small hill and watched as the battle wound down. Nilfgaard was victorious once again and the army cheered wildly as surrender was conceded.

The apparent leader of the Nilfgaardian army approached the enemy who was on his knees. The soldiers pressed close, bayed for blood. While every instinct in Eskel screamed to intervene, to protect the defenseless, he didn’t. Witchers didn’t get involved in human affairs. In the end, his meddling would have been superfluous as the Nilfgaardian general lowered his sword and gestured to the battle field. The enemy would be allowed to collect their injured and dead.

Any breath of relief Eskel may have had was snatched away as the Nilfgaardians started rebelling against their general. Not outright assault but there were murmurs, a few comments of “spineless bastard” and “wet blanket” which carried over the fields to Eskel.

Out of curiosity, Eskel stayed and watched. The armies cleared away the bodies and worked methodically. However, he only had eyes on the general. Nobody seemed to talk to him, once or twice when he tried to initiate something he was scoffed at or outright ignored. By the evening, when the army settled in their camp, Eskel saw an all too familiar story. The soldiers were all huddled up in groups, sharing food, joking and laughing. Meanwhile, their general was sat on the peripheral, a lone figure huddled over a bowl of food. Eskel almost smiled at the way his head dropped forward once or twice as he nodded off.

Eskel himself settled down for the night, telling himself he was there to make sure no nasties came about as a result of the battle. A handful of wraiths would be quite unfortunate after all. He woke up to shouting and jeering. The fires were still burning bright in the camp and Eskel could see a group half carrying, half pushing a reluctant figure. They locked their general in an iron maiden and laughed merrily as they set it closer to a fire.

Witchers didn’t get involved in human affairs. Eskel decided there was still enough human left in him that he could ignore that rule. Without a second thought, he took off towards the camp.

Soldiers backed away from him, probably finding him too monstrous to dare challenge. For the first time, Eskel’s looks and demeanour worked in his favour. He barged into the camp and marched up to the iron maiden, ripping it open.

“By the Law of Surprise I claim him,” he declared, pulling a sweat soaked and weak body from the chamber. It wasn’t how Law of Surprise worked but it didn’t matter. Eskel couldn’t stand by and watch someone be humiliated and tortured for being a decent human.

In the end, Eskel had to carry his human rescue out of the camp because he was too weak to move. Obviously the battle then being stuck in a metal torture contraption near a fire had taken their toll. Back at his own camp, Eskel laid the man on his bedroll and offered a few sips of water every once in a while. When the shivering finally started up, Eskel was there, tugging an old horse blanket over him.

“Thank you,” the man managed to force out of his throat before falling asleep.

The next morning Eskel watched the Nilfgaardian army pack up and move out. He didn’t notice until too late that his rescue was lying on his side and watching silently with him.

“I don’t think they’ll bother you again.” Eskel said by way of greeting. “But you can stick around with me for a few days to be safe.”

A few days turned into a week. Then two. Cahir seemed perfectly at ease, keeping the company of a witcher. When pressed, he simply shrugged. “You’ve treated me with more humanity than anyone before.”

The unspoken “I like you” was still heard all the same. Months went by and still Cahir was by Eskel’s side, choosing the hardship of the Path day after day, even when there had been ample opportunity for better futures for him. A man of his skills and talent would find no problems getting a job in a court.

Seasons changed, the heat of summer gave way to the cool of autumn. All too soon, Eskel was going to have to head towards familiar mountains for winter. He was surprised to find he was dragging his feet.

“What happens if you don’t go?” Cahir asked. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to go all winter either. So Eskel did the right thing.

“Come with me. Spend the winter in the place I used to call home?”

The past tense wasn’t lost on Cahir but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he graciously accepted the invitation.

Come winter, they ascended the mountain together. It wasn’t easy for a witcher so it was downright impossible for a human but Cahir doggedly followed. Their reception at Kaer Morhen was as frosty as the weather. Ciri had screamed and Geralt scowled. If those two were unfriendly with Cahir, logic followed that Jaskier and Yennefer wouldn’t be enamoured either.

Training was difficult, especially because the others seemed to not want to train with Cahir. They had each other where they could unleash their full might and if they wanted to go easy, Ciri was still needing education. It left Eskel to clash swords with Cahir though, more often than not, they ended up hiding in the battlements and looking over the others.

Any hope of Lambert or Aiden proving to be a bit more open were dashed on the second night when Aiden made a passing comment about Nilfgaardians needing to be put down like sick pigs.

“Just as well I’m of Vicovaro,” Cahir had said softly. Not that it made a difference.

Eskel’s last hope was Vesemir and Guxart. Except they cornered him before he could ask.

“I’m glad you’ve found a companion, it was about time you stopped being alone,” Vesemir started.

Guxart finished though. “But did you really have to settle for a human?”

“Jaskier’s human,” Eskel bit back.

“Jaskier’s also ingratiated himself with a powerful sorceress and Ciri adores him. Between them and Geralt, they’re bound to find a solution.”

“I still think that boy has Fae blood,” Guxart grumbled. “Our point is, even Lambert managed to find someone suitable.”

Eskel’s eyes burned even though witchers couldn’t cry. Even worse was the fact that they were in the kitchen and within full hearing of everyone in the dining hall.

“I think you’ll find that Cahir is suitable enough for me.” He’d finally had enough. “He chose me. He wants me. And you know what? I want him too. Being able to love him is enough for me.”

Vesemir stared at Eskel, unused to having resistance from his golden witcher. The obedient one who always nodded. He looked to say something but Eskel was on a roll.

“You’ve all found yourselves a slice of happiness, a family. And I was so happy for you even when you forgot about my existence in favour of those you loved more.” Taking a deep breath, Eskel’s voice dropped to a hiss. “So don’t tell me what my happiness looks like. And don’t you dare try to take it from me.”

Pulling his back straight, Eskel’s nose scrunched up in disdain and he turned, head held high as he marched out of the kitchen. Nobody dared look at him except for Cahir who quietly rose from the table and followed him out.

Not twenty minutes later they appeared downstairs again, bags packed. Going down the mountain wasn’t going to be easy but they would risk it. Eskel didn’t want to spend another minute in the keep amongst those who begrudged him his choices. At least they had a destination in mind, Cahir had described his home in Vicovaro, they would try and make it there.

“Where are you going?” Yennefer asked from the doorway. The others were obviously eavesdropping behind her.

“Anywhere but here,” Eskel bit out, unwilling to share information with her.

“I’ll open you a portal, name your location.”

Cahir was the one to ask for Vicovaro. They were allowed to grab their horses and Yennefer, bundled up in a coat, followed them out. She opened up a portal and offered them a nod.

“I hope you have a good rest of winter.” As aloof as she had been, Eskel knew she wasn’t the real issue. “And I hope to see you both again next winter. I might have something by then to help your predicament.”

It was a nice enough sentiment but it was too little too late. Eskel stepped through the portal with Scorpion behind him, followed by Cahir and his steed. Somehow, he didn’t think he would be back.

[straight-into-the-animus]

Share the Pain of Our Defeat (Malik and Kadar)

@cimbaerly​ Thank you so much for the kind words! I’m sorry it took so long; I’ve never written anything for AC1 nor do I claim to know much for it, but I knew I had to give it a try for you!

I hope you enjoy!! Warnings for angst and mentions of canonical character death/beginnings of AC1 spoilers

read on ao3

The castle of Masyaf was, in all things, the heart of any Assassin. It was where many of them were born, kicking and screaming like the fighters they would almost all grow up to be.

It was where many were born and where many might retire, should they be lucky to have such an honor. Malik knew from a young age that it was a rare luxury as soon as he was old enough to comprehend the world. Not many would end up making it to such an age; not when you were meant to give up everything for the Creed, including your very life, should it come to that.

That was how things were, and it was all for the eventual betterment of mankind. Mortality was finite under the best circumstances. 

Kadar grasped this and the importance of this sacrifice, yet dealt with it in some different way. He first began to question when he was entering the beginnings of his teen years, in the most unusual ways.

“What if the Creed ends?”

“What?” Malik almost stopped in his tracks, grip on the training sword faltering for just a second. Kadar kept his defensive stance, ready should his brother attack, but his eyes almost seemed to be focused on something else which eluded him.

“If the Templars were to attack Masyaf, and they were to kill all of us… What would happen to the Creed? Would people just forget it?”

“Well… No. No, there would still be people to carry on the Creed.”

“But they’d all be dead.”

“The Creed is an idea. Ideas don’t die.”

“People do. And you just said-” He put his sword down and edged out of his defense as he started to get into the discussion, and Malik quickly came in to take advantage. With a few swift movements, Kadar’s sword was thrown away from his reach, and he was pinned on his back, wide-eyed at the sudden shift in behavior.

“And people will die if they keep talking and getting distracted during training.” Malik arched an eyebrow, and Kadar mumbled out something in understanding before Malik got off of him, and he rolled to stand.

“I was just asking questions, big brother.”

“And for every one second you spend asking questions, you lose one second off of your life.”

“You’re no fun.” Kadar huffed but agreed and went silent as they continued to train.

---------------

“Does it hurt?” Kadar sat next to Malik on the stone wall, gingerly as if he would any further hurt his brother. Malik looked over at his younger brother from where he was focusing on his hand in his lap and attempted to give a brave smile. 

“It is not so bad. The pain goes away after a while. And the fact that they burn it stops any impurities from entering the wound. See?” Malik pulled his hand out of his lap and showed Kadar where they had taken his left finger off. There had been a rush of pride when the Masters had told him he was ready for the honor of his initiation, to be made into a true man of the Brotherhood. Both him and Altair were now, and that burned something fierce in him that they were on the same level. Not in capability, but in rank. That would need to change soon.

“Why do you do it? Is it because of the Creed?”

“What does the Creed…?”

“It seems unnecessary. To have to cut off a finger.”

“It’s for the Hidden Blade. It makes things easier, so we don’t have to risk our fingers every time we use it. And it’s a sacrifice. For the Brotherhood.”

“There you go on again.”

“Excuse me?” Malik sharpened his tone; not that it was hard with pain still shooting from his hand and throbbing from the stump of his finger to the rest of his body. Kadar still looked unfazed, meeting Malik’s gaze with his own challenging one.

“You cut off your finger without any question? Caused yourself pain because someone told you?”

“Those are our Masters-”

“And have you not thought that you’ve made yourself a target? Obviously, Templars will know what to look for if they see a man in white robes.”

“Kadar, please silence yourself-”

“I don’t want to.”

Their voices didn’t raise at all, a feat remarkable for the heat of the conversation, but there was anger there that Malik was unsure of, something he couldn’t control. This was meant to be a proud day, something he thought his brother would care to witness and be excited to undergo someday of his own accord, and it just… wasn’t there. Or it was hidden under this new bitterness. The younger man went quiet despite how he had protested against his silence, looking down at the ground below the mountains, and Malik took the opportunity.

“This is how things are done. This is how the Brotherhood will survive.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because- Because I do. Because I must. For all our sakes. Look at me.” He waited until his younger brother’s head was raised, and their eyes met. “It is seen as harsh, yes. But it is our world. It is a noble effort. And we are the only ones able to do it for the betterment of men. Though we might not be remembered, not by them, we will be remembered by our own. There is nothing to fear.”

“I don’t fear anything-”

“You do.” And Malik hadn’t been sure of it, not entirely, but he knew in the instant that it was the truth; when he brought it up, Kadar’s eyes had darted away to the left in avoidance, though his voice remained steady. “Kadar. It’s fine to be afraid. But not forever. You’re to be a man of the Brotherhood, and then we all need to look out for each other. You look out for me. And I’ll look out for you.”

Kadar was silent as he studied him for a long moment before speaking again. “You swear that?”

“I do. I swear it on everything.” Malik intoned, face serious as he looked into his brother’s eyes, which were so similar to his. Eventually, Kadar nodded, releasing a breath.

“Then I’ll swear as well to look out for you. And I’ll hold you to it.”

“Fair,” Malik responded, body relaxing slightly as Kadar’s body turned away, and he leaned back on his arms to look out on the landscape stretched out in front of them. The sun was not yet begun to set on them, and in his eyes, Malik saw some quiet flame of passion not yet stomped out despite what was said. He was young yet, and a pain quickly made itself known in Malik’s chest -- one more intense than the one in his hand -- that this wouldn’t be the case forever. Which he expected, it was their lot in life, and Malik was proud of that.

But… were they any different, he couldn’t help but wonder if that fire in Kadar’s eyes would be suited for something else. Where that passion and youth would be directed if not for their Brotherhood.

The sun was long set when they left the wall.

---------------

Malik still thought about those days, sometimes, when things were too quiet, and there were no maps to make, no novices to direct. When he had been younger, there had been a part of him that longed to go and fight for their cause, to leave the safe haven of Masyaf. He had been a young man, then, full of ambition. Jerusalem seemed as far away as you could get for the moment.

There was no pain in his left hand, now. Though that had been so long dulled now, the years making it so, he had to adjust to no hand at all; most of no arm.

And now things were too quiet.

He still saw Kadar, heard him despite how impossible things seemed. In the face of every novice, either much too serious or much too brash, ready to made their presence known and make someone proud, make Malik proud. Sometimes he had to stand still and center himself to keep the bile from rising in his mouth long after those boys left because most of the time they truly were no more than boys.

Except for one. The minute he would walk in, he felt inside as though he was a cat, spitting and hissing and righteous indignation because how dare he stride in when Malik was trying to pull himself together after he had ruined and broken the promise he had tried so hard to keep?

The circles under his eyes seemed to darken every time he caught his reflection, but no one dared to make any sort of mention about it. The food tasted bitter, always, but he would attempt to eat it anyway. 

Things would be better someday, he knew somewhere deep in his bones. He had more people to look after, in his own way, and there was a comfort to be had there. For as much as those novices scared him, he could guide them, teach them. Fix his mistakes.

But for now, just for now… When the sun was starting to set over the high buildings, he would think of indignation and fear and an eager young man who tried to embrace a Creed that Malik now knew he had no place in, never did.

He hoped that Kadar could forgive him, that he could forgive himself. And he would. He would.

But not now.

This was a weird, experimental mess and I’m sorry y’all had to sit thru it, but I somewhat enjoyed it?

So I hope you enjoyed it in return! If you do I have a Masterpost here and more ideas for writings and prompts here, so feel free to request!  If you’d like to support me, I have a ko-fi here! Safety and peace!

[reconditarmonia]

Dear Chocolate Box 2021 Author

Hi! Thank you for writing for me! I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3. I have anon messaging off, but mods can contact me with any questions.

Elsinore | Fullmetal Alchemist | The Locked Tomb | Motherland: Fort Salem | Simoun

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink! Trust, affectionate or loving use of titles, gestures of loyalty, replacing one’s situational or ethical judgment with someone else’s, risking oneself (physically or otherwise) for someone else, not doing so on their orders. Can be commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff (possibly while crossdressing).

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; embarrassment; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes; focus on unrequested canon or non-canon ships; unrequested trans versions of characters.

Smut Likes: clothing, uniforms, sexual tension, breasts, manual sex, cunnilingus, grinding, informal d/s elements, intensity.

Requesting fic; open to art treats!

—

Fandom: Elsinore

Relationship(s): Hamlet & Ophelia; Hamlet & Horatio & Ophelia; Bernardo & Hamlet & Laertes & Ophelia

I found the friendships in this game, and the different ways that characters can reconcile or try to find a way forward together, to be really sweet and moving, and I'd love to read something that focused on those relationships of trust and support. I like how important Ophelia and Horatio's counsel and friendship is in timelines where Hamlet becomes king; I like Hamlet regretting how he behaved towards Ophelia and striving to live through his depression and find out what it is that he wants, not what everyone else wants of him; I like seeing childhood friends Bernardo and Laertes and Ophelia and Hamlet, whose growing-up has stretched them so far apart, taking time to catch up and enjoy each other's company a little.

So, futurefic in one of the timelines where everything doesn't go to shit? A timeline that we don't see? (There is something narratively interesting to me in Permanence/Passion in that the entire plot of Hamlet ends up as a distant backstory to someone's full life; I don't know how compatible that idea is with these requests, but if you want to write any of these groups fucking off to Italy or Constantinople or London and living until the Elsinore pressure-cooker is a distant memory, I'd be just as happy with that as with fic about them building some kind of future together still in Denmark, trying to make it better for its people and to hold on to who they are as individuals, and friends, beyond their roles.) If you want to write Hamlet/Ophelia, Hamlet/Horatio, or for that matter Horatio/Bernardo as shippy, I'm fine with that, but I don't want a focus on the romantic aspects of their relationship.

Fandom-Specific DNW: death of requested characters within the timeline being explored, or focus on death of requested characters. These characters die in this game a lot and I don't need you to pretend entirely that it's not a time loop game, but I would like them to be happy. If you write the Bernardo & Hamlet & Laertes & Ophelia request, I'm fine with either or both names/pronouns for Bernardo|Katherine, but I don't want to read a story focused on their gender or coming-out. Please don't include Peter Quince as a character (you do not need to retcon, you know, the existence of the time loop).

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Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Relationship(s): Maria Ross/Olivier Mira Armstrong

I'll admit: I am a shallow, shallow person who loves the heartwarming and id-satisfying Briggs loyalty-kink complex (The watch! Buccaneer handing Olivier a clean pair of gloves after she kills Raven! Constant and deeply sincere saluting! Olivier’s explanation of why she wants Miles around and her lack of patience for anyone’s shit) but would like an f/f manifestation of it for actual shipping. Post-canon or AU where Maria is assigned to Briggs, or works for Olivier in Central? Does Maria foil a plot against Olivier, or Olivier save Maria's life in battle? Does Olivier order Maria into a firefight? Hit me.

Fandom-Specific DNW: Olivier/men, even mentioned.

—

Fandom: The Locked Tomb

Relationship(s): Abigail Pent & Dulcinea Septimus; Gideon the First & Matthias Nonius

Dulcie and Nonius were two of my favorite additions to the cast in Harrow the Ninth (and Dulcie in "Doctor Sex" via letter). I loved everything we learned about Dulcie - her wit, her quick thinking in a pinch when confronted by Cytherea and her secret to Harrow. I found her "The only thing preventing me from being exactly who I wanted..." speech both genuinely moving and very funny, and I love her thirst for revenge. What else might she and Abigail Pent, "independent research? it isn't even my birthday!" daredevil spirit-talker par excellence who has just conjured up a ghost out of an epic poem, get up to after Harrow's bubble collapses? Or what were they up to when they weren't on screen in Harrow's dream, putting together this whole, well, play?

Nonius's arrival, entire scene, and departure to fight the Beast made me very, very happy on levels I have trouble explaining. It was so heartwarming?! Because it was impossible, and because poetry won, and because they went off to do the best they could...I don't know, exactly. I'd love to read either more about his mysterious past with Gideon the First, or about their second encounter as allies (throw in Marta, Ortus and Pro if you like as well!)

Fandom-Specific Exception: to my unrequested ships DNW, Dulcie/Cam & Dulcie/Pal. I love their three strand thing.

—

Fandom: Motherland: Fort Salem

Relationship(s): Abigail Bellweather/Raelle Collar

I fell hard for this show and Abigail/Raelle is the ship I’m most excited about - they get off to a bad start for all kinds of personal history reasons and have problems with each other, but when it gets down to the wire Abigail would do anything for Raelle and is very gung-ho about having Raelle’s unconventional but extremely powerful magic under her leadership, regardless of Raelle being a loose cannon. She told her she loved her!! <3 And by the end, Raelle also clearly knows what Abigail's going through (like when she talks her down in "Citydrop"), respects her leadership, and cares deeply about her and wants to protect her in return. I love that loyalty dynamic, and their competence as fighters/witches.

Physical combat, strength in general, magical strength, ability to work magic together, knowledge of the magical canon vs. out-of-the-box techniques...what parts of their skills and their bond could be challenged in the weird dimension that the end of season 1 leaves them in? Or when they get back home and new challenges await? (In my head, the decision not to send them to War College is not revoked; the unit becomes some kind of special-forces secret strike team rather than cannon fodder.) Maybe something where Raelle goes/has gone into a fight as a berserker-type for Abigail and then comes back to her, or where Abigail protects/has protected her soldier (her girl!! I love her protectiveness of Raelle towards the other cadets, imagine it in a battle!)? Or an arranged marriage AU where it's usual for witch soldiers to marry to combine their magic power or something...

I would also be up for smut for them, especially something d/s-y where the loyalty-kinky dynamic of Raelle being Abigail's weapon, at her command, is echoed in sex!

Fandom-Specific DNW: sex solely for magical purposes without an emotional connection (sex for magical purposes is fine), focus on Raylla (I don't need you to retcon it, but please don't dwell either on Raelle still having feelings for Scylla or on her getting over Scylla for Abigail), Scylla bashing, Abigail/Adil (I would prefer to imagine, if he is mentioned in the fic, that they’re just friends).

—

Fandom: Simoun

Relationship(s): Aer/Neviril; Aer/Neviril & Neviril/Paraietta; Aer/Neviril/Paraietta; Aer & Floef & Neviril & Paraietta & Rodoreamon & Vyuraf

Aer, and Aer/Neviril, really grew on me on my recent rewatch. I appreciated her more as the determined bit-of-a-loose-cannon, who grows into a respected role in the choir, than the manic pixie this time, and noted Neviril's comments about how she was drawn to Aer's determination. (I've written a lot more about what I love and am interested in about Neviril and the show in general, her journey of figuring out what it means to her exactly to lead an air force, here.) I'd love to know what happens to them post-canon - what is the "new world" and their travel in it like? It's an escape for them, sure, but what are they escaping to, not just from? Are there problems there, too?

I'd also be up for a poly situation where Neviril is involved with both Aer and Paraietta, her long-loyal second-in-command whom she's blessed and forgiven, as a V where they're friends or as a triangle where Aer and Paraietta are also involved (I don't quite know what that leg of the triangle would look like but I do like how they work together in battle even when they're shown as having personal issues.)

If Neviril and Aer make it back to the main world when war is brewing again, as at the end of the series, but their old cohort can't fly anymore, what do they see their role as being? Does Neviril see herself as a leader for peace, for war, for something else? How do they interact with their former squadmates, whether as part of a more plotty piece or not?

I could be interested in explicit fic for this canon, as an option - the series is, on some level, about the contrast between the reality and physicality of their bodies and the general perception of what they do (which even in its non-spiritual military capacity is removed from a connection to their bodies via the Simoun aircraft), about becoming an adult, and of course about gender.

Fandom-Specific DNW: I'm not really interested in Kaim and Alty and would prefer for them not to appear or for their backstory to come up. I would also not like to see pre-timeskip Dominuura/Limone.

[leighas-life]

Review Of Meg, The Trench, Primal Waters, Origins By Steve Alten

Meg #1 (4/5 stars)

*I didn’t write a review for this one, but my thoughts for the second 2 sum up how I feel about Meg (and probably the series as a whole when I finish it.)

The Trench (Meg #2) - 3.5/5

***Trigger warning: Rape is mentioned, along with the person being tortured, there were two attempted rape scenes, one quite graphic and incest.*** The author needs a better editing team. The writing style was good and enjoyable for the most part, although one thing stood out which was the repetitiveness. Jonas felt his temper flaring practically every other page. There was a lot of flashing. How many times can a person flash a smile, or flash their eyes in anger, flash this, flash that....? "For a surreal moment" is also used many times. Once you notice the repetitiveness, it is almost impossible not to notice, which brings you out of the story. Another thing that stood out that took away some enjoyment was a lot of telling instead of showing. Too many characters. I gave up trying to keep track of them. 99% were not important, just written in to be killed. I like how Masao treats Jonas as a true son and not a son-in-law. They have a couple of sweet father-son moments. The actions scenes were suspenseful. I truly felt Terry's terror as she goes through the stuff she went through. There are a couple of characters I hated so much and admit, I was hoping they would die, so Steve Alten is good at writing characters you hate. I do plan on reading more, as I love the entertaining value in these. Some of the triggering and problematic things you can overlook if you go in knowing what to expect. I hope the books get better as the series progresses.

Primal Waters (Meg #3) - 4/5 very problematic stars. 

TW: Because yes, this will have triggers, like the first two. Misogyny, implied/mentioned sex between adults and underage girls, suicide is mentioned, abortion is mentioned, slut and fat-shaming (blink and you might miss the slut-shaming, but it is there.) *** You can go into a vintage horror (or any genre) novel and expect some dark and nasty stuff, including how females are treated, and hey, maybe you even like those books, despite the problematic elements. Those books were a product of the time. I'm honestly not judging your taste in books, because I read them, too. It is nice to be able to turn your brain off sometimes. That being said, the way females are treated in this book just doesn't make sense. Because it is about killer sharks, does that mean it is marketed toward men and that is why all the girls are treated like eye candy, along with underage eye candy to boot? It is just cringy how Terry is described. (The Asian beauty with almond eyes.) I wasn't even at the 30% point and already suicide was mentioned, two instances of underage sex mentioned (with an adult) and one instance of what seems like a forced abortion (man paying for and probably making the underage girl abort her baby), and a cheating scumbag. (And later on in the book there are slut and fat-shaming.) Oh, and of course some shark kills! Which is the real reason to read these, right? Why in the world would Jonas let his underage daughter be one of the "Candy Girls" without even saying a word of protest? “I was hoping you might be able to use Dani behind the scenes, you know, assisting the film crew . . . something to keep her busy.” “Behind the scenes?” Erik laughs. “Your daughter’s eye-candy, Professor, and we can never have too much of that. Dani, as soon as you get settled, come find me and I’ll hook you up with wardrobe. They’ll pick out some nice bikinis, maybe a few after-hour numbers. We’ll pay you to be one of our Candy Girls, my pet name for our Daredevil groupies.” “Excellent.” Danielle’s gloating smile tweaks her father’s blood pressure. *** Also, I can do without shaming people for having body hair. It was just a silly and unneeded line. "God, I miss California. If I date one more woman with hairy legs, I think I’ll—" *** Erik points to the bow where a cocoa-brown African-American woman in a white thong bikini is posing before a photographer and two cameramen. “Not much of an actress, but who cares, she makes—” “I know, great eye-candy.” So, we have an almond-eyed Asian beauty and now a cocoa-brown African American...can't we describe POC without using food? And you don't have to keep reminding us that Terry's Asian as well. We remember! (Later on, there is an olive-skinned Italian as well.) I saw someone call these books "Shallow Entertainment" and they sure are that! I notice that he really likes to go into detail of describing how a female looks, using words like "shapely" a lot. Also, I noticed he points out skin color and eye color of the females often, but only one time did he mention the eye color of a man. I wonder why it is? So we know what eye color the females have when we fantasize about them? I mean, he writes them like "Eye Candy!" The girls on the boat are even called "Candy Girls" by the camera crew. It is basically "Girl's Gone Wild" with stupid daredevil stunts that get people killed. How has this film crew not been sued and how are they allowed to show the deaths on tv? I've never watched the real Girl's Gone Wild, but this book is similar to the Piranha (2010) movie, if you remember the GGW film crew, well, yeah, this book is like that, but with some hungry sharks and people who don't use their brains. Of course, the sex and nudity in this are not graphic or anything, but you get what I mean. That is because Steve does a lot of telling, and not showing. All the people in this book that get put in danger (and end up getting killed) are getting what they deserve. I would never say that about a real-life situation, toward a real victim, but seriously, these characters have bricks for brains. The camera, still looped around his neck, bounces against his chest— —calling out his name. Brian stares at temptation, his fear momentarily subsiding. 'The whale’s dying. Angel’s got to be circling below, waiting to feed again. One shot, just a quick one before you lose the light, then get to shore as fast as you can.' He stops paddling, allowing the kayak to drift as he glances back at Charlie. 'Calm and steady and the Meg won’t even know you’re here. One great shot of her next attack, just one killer shot.' 'Sorry Charlie, but that’s life in the food chain. Damn, this looks good. Okay, Angel, one more time for Daddy while we still have the light. Definitely a cover shot on National Geographic, maybe even Time . . .' This is why I root for the shark! A certain thing keeps happening in this book and jarring me out of the story. Steve Alten has a broken way of writing what are supposed to be suspenseful moments. Personally, I don't like this style. I don't know how to describe it, so I will show you. Balancing atop the wall, he runs back to the arena and the safety of the bleachers as fast as he can— —nitrogen bubbling in his bloodstream. Fergie bounds over another swell and pulls hard on his control strut— —as a powerful updraft catches the kite. Losing the wind, he plummets—a seabird with clipped wings— —as the Megalodon breeches, its head rising at him like a missile, its jaws yawning open, offering an impossible target to miss. Devin flees— —only to be confronted by an even bigger nightmare. This way of writing might be fine if it only happened a couple of times, but it is littered throughout the whole book. One last thing I want to add about Dani, which is a spoiler-ish. [Dani starts off as a teenage spoiled brat; there is no way to say it nicely. I liked how she grew and eventually stopped being such a pain, and she and her father started to see eye to eye again.] Don't get me wrong, despite my complaints, I really do like these books. As I said, it is nice to turn your brain off and enjoy some B movie type books.

Meg Origins (Meg #.05) 2/5 stars.

If you read and liked Meg, this tells the story of when Jonas first met the prehistoric shark. This book is interesting, to say the least. However, some of the writing was dry, dare I say boring. There were some repetitive chapter openings that annoyed me. I guess the editing team didn't notice. Once you notice these repetitive things, it is hard to keep from noticing them and it takes you out of the story. For example: In the Prologue "Captian George Nares stood defiantly on the heaving gun deck." In Chapter 1: "Captian Richard Danielson stood defiantly on the main deck." How does one stand defiantly? Do you stand in a Superman pose, with your hands on your hips? There were so many characters. I wrote a list of characters in case someone was important later on. Large casts are often forgettable. I counted about 20 characters (Plus some more that were not given proper names.) 90% of these people were not important. I liked how there was a nod to the Jaws movie. "Good God, Man! That's more than half the length of the Challenger. A creature that size... we'd need a bigger boat." Steve didn't copy Jaws. Maybe he was inspired somewhat, but the storyline of Meg is completely different from Jaws, yet people are going to still scream copycat. Misogyny, treatment of women. One girl in this is only known by her big boobs. I think she's given a name, but that's about it. You can tell this was written by a man by the way characters describe women. "...tan, oiled breasts two swollen grapefruits in the skimpy red bikini." "...hawkish eyes moved from the pair of jacks in his right hand to the D-cup breasts barely contained beneath the brunette's olive-green tee-shirt." How do you know they're D-cup? Did you measure them, or did she tell you? "Hey, so my boobs are d-cup." These are grown men, but they sound like they are teen boys who just discovered boobs. I'm not a prude by any means, but I can't say I liked this manner of describing people. I notice the men are never described this way. Don't get me wrong, I really do like these books. So far. Meg Origins should be saved only if you are a die-hard fan of the series, though. None of it is new info. It just goes into detail of what the first book already mentioned.

[arisalty]

Please Come Home For Christmas (sure as the stars shine above)

Merry Christmas! The person I got for the Secret Santa in Powerless was @skylagamingv2​, and while I’m not great at writing Logince, here’s my take on it! 

Songs mentioned are Venus by Sleeping at Last and The Fairytale of New York by The Pogues

Words: 4.7k 

Tw: Swearing, Remus appears for a bit, food is mentioned n eaten, there's one panic attack and one breakdown because of being touch-starved, if I need to tag anything else, please do tell me!

Sunday 1st, December, 5:15 am

“You’re daydreaming about him again, aren’t you?” Virgil broke Roman’s trance loudly, the faint light from his hat and shoes allowing Roman to see the raised eyebrow in the surrounding darkness. 

“Uh…” Roman let the syllable rest on his tongue as he desperately looked for something to say. “Maybe..?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“If you like him so much, why don’t you, like, try and talk to him when we’re packed.”

“Different box,” Roman pouted and dropped his head into his hands. 

“Then, hooooow about you going up to the tippy-top of the tree to seem him?” Patton pushed his way past the fir branches, as ever, carrying his signature tray of cookies. 

Roman paused for a few seconds, contemplating the fanatical, absolutely wild, insane idea. 

“Surely it’s impossible getting all the way up there?”

“Of course not!” Patton bubbled. “It’s-”

He was cut off by Virgil remarking,

“It’s only really challenging and possibly deadly.”

“But!” Patton intervened quickly. “I’m sure that the bravest, boldest, most bodacious nutcracker in the world definitely has the nuts to do it!”

Virgil looked down to hide his grin, even though he shook his head in joke disappointment.

Roman looked between the two elves, with their dainty little outfits of red jackets and flashing hats, one beaming up at his boyfriend while the other smiled softly at the other, and with a crushing sense of longing, he realised that maybe, just maybe he could have that. 

Virgil looked up and gave half a smile,

“As dangerous as it is, Patton has a point. If anyone can do it, it’s you, dude.”

As cynical as he could be, Roman knew that Virgil was being genuine, the look in his eyes just as supportive as his bubbly boyfriend. 

Patton beamed up at Roman. 

“See! You’ve already started to believe in yourself more!” He giggled, before holding out his tray of cookies once more. “Now, eat up; it’s nearly 6 o’clock and you’ve got a big day tomorrow!”

Yes, Roman thought, I’ll start later. 

Sunday 1st December, around midnight

As the sun set and the light’s flickered on, the steady march of time brought midnight with it. Every ornament on the tree, from the tinsel to the angel at the top to the deer on the baubles, found their body revived of control, and they blinked, waking slowly from their suspended quiet, allowing their consciousness to readjust to animation. Only one little wooden figure was already restless, his little fingers tapping away at his side until his body seemed to spring into action, allowing him to stretch and crack his joints into fluidity. 

Today's the day, he thought, today's the day I set out for the top of the tree.

He paced restlessly in his secluded part of the tree, waiting ‘till his friends would join him in his state of movement; he didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to them.  

After many minutes of very frustrated waiting, Roman couldn’t hold himself back from bursting into Patton and Virgil’s living space, only to find them very drowsily rubbing at their eyes and stretching, obviously only just having woken up. 

“Roman, we love you, but what are you doing here?” Virgil yawned, looking like he needed nothing more than a coffee. “Couldn’t you have waited for me to get a coffee or something first?” 

(Both Roman and Virgil ignored Patton’s frustrated huff at Virgil.)

“Good morning!” chirped Roman. “I'm here to see you before I head off. I didn't want to go before saying goodbye.” 

“Well, as you’re here, take a cookie!! You’re gonna need the energy!”

Gratefulness filled Roman as he picked up two of the cookies. These were his friends, these were the ones backing him. These two were the ones that believed that he could do it; he could make it to the top. 

“Uh… Ro? You good, man? You finished your cookies a few minutes ago you’ve just kinda been staring at nothing for the past two minutes.”

Roman blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking.”

Vigil shook his head fondly. “What are you still doing here? Go get your man!” Virgil took this time to push the nutcracker towards the exit. 

“Uh, I mean-”

“Go!” Virgil gave Roman one last shove, pushing him out the door, laughing all the while. 

“Good luck!” called Patton. 

Roman smiled as he started walking. 

~

Logan was once again, bored. It was only the second night of being awake on the tree. But it got lonely at the top of the tree, with barely anybody to talk to, nothing to do but watch the lights flicker and the hands of the grandfather clock tick round to 6 o’clock. But what could he do about it? He was an angel, the most beautiful ornament, stuck to the top of the tree with metal stopping him from moving. Furthermore, he couldn’t even move in the night for the fact there would be no point; even if he did manage to get off his stupid metal podium holding him in place, the humans would surely notice his movement and put him back, and so the cycle would repeat. Over, and over, and over. No, it wasn’t worth it. 

Well, mostly. One fine gentleman caught his attention once, a few years ago, but never had the opportunity to meet ever passed. He was a nutcracker, white uniform decorated in golden thread, with a bold red sash across his chest, folding back around the other side of his body at his belt. 

Logan had never felt the urge to want to meet and talk to someone as much as he had when he saw him. But they have yet to be in proximity with each other, let alone converse and befriend one another. 

Logan sighed, letting his thoughts drift off into memories where he saw the nutcracker, even though they were only brief flashes at a time. 

Logan let his mind wander to the constellations that decorated his dress, naming them as he went.

Monday 2nd, midnight

To say that the previous day’s expedition was a bust would’ve been putting it lightly. Roman had tried to jump between two ranches, misjudged the distance and fell, (luckily) landing basically on his own doorstep and reversing all the progress for that day. 

Nevertheless, he was not discouraged, because there was the chance he fell between the branches to his death, and what is any fairy tale without a struggle?

He carried on. 

Wednesday 4th, midnight

Roman sighed. 

It had been 4 days of trying to get to the top of the tree and he had made total progress of nothing. Well, he had made it almost 3 layers of branches up, but obviously, he was back to where he started so something had to have gone wrong.

He managed to fall on the first day, and after that, he caught his string on a branch and the next day a human moved him downwards. 

While Virgil was busy worrying that Roman might hurt himself, or that he would get trapped on a branch, or fall and die, or give up and not climb anymore, or starve himself and pass out, Patton spent his time trying to communicate with the Angel at the top of the tree. 

He had heard a rumour that the Angel, Logan, as he had found out, was extremely intelligent, and Patton hoped that Logan knew morse code, because that was the only way he could really communicate with the top of the tree. 

He had worked out what he wanted to say - “Roman is coming” or 

“.-. --- -- .- -. / .. ... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --.” - and he had been flashing it unconsciously from his hat, but something about the thick swathes of branches gave him the feeling that Logan may not be able to see it. 

Patton sat thinking for a few minutes.

What’s a way to get the lights in a viewable distance? 

Oh no. 

Virgil is going to kill me. 

Virgil found Patton shuffling along a branch, arms held out for balance, little hat flashing in irregular bursts, past halfway out along the longest branch.

“PATTON!! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Patton winced, glancing over to see that Virgil’s eyes had blown wide with panic, limbs locked up and behind him, Roman, hair messed up and hat discarded, look on in worry. 

“Uh, love, don’t worry-”

“I’m sorry- the fuck- don’t tell me to not worry!! You’re halfway along a branch above instant death!”

“I’ll be fine, V, I promise. I just need to get a message—” Patton waved vaguely to his hat —“to the top of the tree, and then I’ll come back, I swear. Okay?”

Patton watched as he couldn’t comfort his boyfriend as his breathing picked up, as he started thrashing in Roman’s grip, as he couldn’t name the things around hands. But as much as he wanted to get back to him, get back to Virgil to comfort him, he needed to do this for Roman. He deserved love as much as the rest of them. 

He took careful steps onwards, trying to create minimal movement, as the branch was moving a lot easier now.

Surely, this must be far enough by now? 

Patton stopped and put all his energy into boosting the lights in his hat. 

Dit. Dah. Dit. Dah. Dah. Dah. 

The little light blared into the expanse of the room, and Patton waited for a few minutes just to be sure. He looked skywards and turned around to make his way back, satisfied with his job. 

 ~

“Roqdestrmmdkn? What the everloving fuck is that meant to be?”

Logan had been zoned out. It was only the 4th day and he was bored and passed the time with blanking out and letting his focus slide. There were not many productive things to do. He only noticed the little blinking light at the bottom of the tree after Deceit rattled up towards him and motioned with his sparkling tail. 

Logan had watched the lights repeat it’s pattern 4 times, a lengthy gap between the repeats. Yet the message he tried to translate back was just a mix of letters, none of which make sense together.

“Are you sure you translated it right? I have no doubt, of course, just asking the obvious questions,” Deceit looked up at the angel, his long, yellow tinsel body curled around the tree and the hem of the deep blue dress.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure! I’ve done nothing but teach myself different forms of communication from this solitary post,” Logan answered hotly. 

“Well, it might be just you. Or it might be the other person. We only know after we talk to them, whoever they are. But that definitely wasn’t an elf,” Deceit replied coolly, unfazed by Logan’s outburst. 

“How do you know?” Logan saw past the lies.

“Oh, definitely wasn’t the fact that they had a flashing hat and shoes.”

Logan accepted that. He wasn’t noticed, mainly because he was busy figuring out the morse. 

“My point is… maybe they got it right. Maybe they were a little… rusty. How about you try shuffling it around a little bit. It might give you something to do instead of staring and mope.”

Logan shrugged, going back to observing the room. 

~

“PATTON!!” Virgil felt the yell rip from his lungs as he saw his lover trip over a cluster of needles, flailing as he fell forwards, grabbing onto the shaking branch. 

“Roman please, let me go. Roman. Please. Let go.” 

The arms around his chest did not move. 

“RomAN. LET. ME. GO.” Virgil’s voice deepened, echoing in their small space.  

Patton looked up from where he lay, gripping the swinging branch tightly, face showing a myriad of emotions; fear, apprehension, worry. 

“No, no, Virgil. Please don’t come to me. I’ll make it back. I’ll shuffle back once the branch stops swinging. Just don’t touch the branch, or it’ll swing more. Promise me you won’t, Virgil? Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Virgil let out a small shaky breath from beneath the arms holding him in place, wiping at the tear tracks that had marked their place down his face. Patton looked pleadingly at Virgil and the resolution seemed to drop out of the other elf. Virgil gave one shakey nod, and Patton relaxed.

He started working his way closer to the trunk of the tree, and while the branch was still drifting slightly from side to side and shuddered when Patton moved more quickly, but Patton was back to the sturdier parts in no time, and Virgil fell into his arms, burying his head in Patton’s shoulder. 

Roman left them to their comforting embraces. 

Tuesday 10th, about 3 AM

Roman was about halfway up the tree now and he had since met Deceit, the resident tinsel? Snake? Deceit seemed to be a mix of both, to be honest. 

A flurry of squawking shattered the comfortable silence Roman travelled in. 

“COME HERE YOU BASTARD BIRDS!!”

Roman grabbed a hold of a branch near him as the tree shook and another nutcracker tumbled down from above him. 

He was made with the same design as him, just his sash was a deep green, and his white suit was instead black. His face was a manic mixture of wide, crazed eyes, a deranged smile scrawled across his face and feathers and fir needles entangled in his hair. 

The similar, yet so different, nutcracker stuck a hand out with an air of uncaring confidence. 

“The name’s Remus! To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Even the way he spoke alluded to his madness. 

It didn’t stop Roman from reaching out hesitantly to grasp his hand. 

“Uh… Roman..?” Roman responded, having gotten over his shock at how forward the other character was. 

“Are you quite sure? You seem unsure. I don’t want you to be unsure.” The words tumbled from Remus’ mouth like sand from a broken hourglass. 

Roman blinked in shock again, before clearing his throat and readjusting himself. 

“Yes, yes, I'm quite sure. Roman Princeton.” With a sweeping gesture, Roman took off his hat, eyes glancing at the printed gold lettering inside the hat. 

“Princeton, you say?” an eyebrow raised. “My, that does, it seems, make us brothers!” With a mirroring flourish, Remus took off his hat and spun it around to show identical gold lettering. His smile stretched wider, and she bounced nearer, catching Roman’s arm by hooking his elbow around it. “Well, dearest brother, will you join me on my quest?”

“Your quest?” Roman queried.

“Yes, a goal I have to complete! Come! Follow me.”

Without giving Roman chance to excuse himself, Remus set off at a brisk pace, hopping between branches with the care of a drunkard in a tree (which is to say, little to no care at all), dragging Roman along all the while. Roman wanted to detach from his apparent brother’s arm, for fear of falling off the flailing fir branches. But soon, the erratic steps and bounces calmed somewhat and let Roman catch his breath and stand more firmly on the branches. Oh, and for Remus to let go.

They travelled in silence for a while, til Remus broke it.

“What brings you up this side of the tree then? I’ve not seen you around here before.” 

“I’m on a quest of my own, to the very top of the tree to try and win the heart of the angel.”

“Logan? Really? He’s got a bit of a stick up his arse. He’s no fun!” 

“I’m not so sure that our types of fun are the same,” Roman muttered under his breath, as Remus took a flying leap over a branch unnecessarily. 

“What’s your quest then, Remus?”

“Oh me? My quest is to defeat all the birds!! They like perching in MY area!!”

Roman frowned but didn’t respond. 

“Did you know that all the birds in this tree don’t have penises! They get cloacas. All of them! Even females! They rub them together when they start to feel friskeeey,”

Roman regretted ever coming into contact with his long lost brother. 

“Yes, but have the birds ever actually done anything wrong?” Roman interrupted the still babbling Remus. 

“Nah, I just felt like it one day and since then we’ve been in this war!” Remus bounced along, apathetic tone filling the space.

“Then why don’t you leave the birds alone? Aren’t you just terrorising them?”

The questions cause the chaotic nutcracker to freeze ahead of roman, spinning around on his heel almost robotically, eyes wide and fury upon his face. 

“So you’re on their side, huh? You want to stop me from having fun?” 

Remus drew the sword from his scabbard, an identical one to roman’s own, advancing, like a dangerous cloud, the dark green backdrop of the tree framing the nutcracker. 

Roman didn’t bother drawing his own sword; he didn’t want to fight, especially this high in the tree with a high chance of falling. So, as any smart person would, he ran, looking for a way to get up to the next layer of branches. Unfortunately for him, he found himself back to where he was, while still an angry rattish man following him with a very sharp sword. Roman looked around as he started running the circle again; there were slightly more low hanging branches, there were baubles which he could possibly jump from one to another, but it was dangerous- extremely so; as his options were running thin, he noticed in the corner of his eye a brilliant flash, which drew his eye to the glittery tinsel that was Deceit. 

“Oh, he’s going to hate me so much,” thought Roman, as he took a run up and leapt, grasping hold of the yellow strands that made up Deceit’s body.

Roman hauled himself up to the next level, expanding the distance between him and Remus -- after all, it’s difficult to climb a string of tinsel with a sword in your hand -- and Roman decided to play a waiting game, and hid in a bauble with a hole cut through it, where a LED candle had been placed. 

Well, it worked, and Remus soon gave up trying to find his brother, stomping off with a cry of “FUCK YOU BIRDS!”.

Saturday 14th, midnight

Logan had long worked out what the elf had been trying to say ("Roman is coming," a simple mistake of pausing too long in some places and not long enough in others). Since that day, he had been trying to get down from his solitary post.

Damn this blasted metal pole down the back of my dress.

Logan was getting irritated. There was no way to push himself upwards to get off the pole. So, he sulked. There wasn’t anyone to listen anyway. He’d been trying for seven nights now with no luck.

He ended up just listening to the music streaming quietly from the TV after one of the humans had fallen asleep on the sofa. Thankfully, it wasn’t Christmas music for once, just a gentle melody and quiet words. 

...you. At first, I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You're as beautiful as endless, You're the universe…

Logan decided he liked this song. It filled him with a warm feeling, and slowly, he began humming along to the song, committing the words to memory, and he could almost imagine the smile on Roman’s lips. It was sweet. 

At that moment, he felt such a huge burst of longing he had to let out a shuddering breath he hasn’t realised he was holding. He had never felt so lonely, never wanted a hug more in his life, never felt like his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest like this before. He felt his arms tuck into his sides, his body curling as much as he could, curling in towards himself, trying to cradle the warm feeling that was flickering away from him ever so quickly. Logan let out another shuddering breath and he couldn’t stop the tears tracking their way down his porcelain cheeks. 

The song had long moved on when he broke out of his state, arms crossed around his torso, squeezing in to try and bring comfort.

“Logan? Are you well?” The tinsel had moved up towards him, speaking softly, wanting to help but not knowing how. 

Logan shook his head, not trusting his voice to work. 

“Look, I’m going to move closer to you, okay? I’m going to try and give you a hug, okay? Well, to the best of my ability.” 

The soft shuffle of tinsel over tree brought a small amount of comfort to Logan, but he felt himself flinching away from the brush against his skin. Deceit had moved back instantly, afraid to make him more uncomfortable. 

Why? Why was he like this?

Logan breathed out, opening his arms to the snake, and Deceit moved back slowly, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder, and logan let out another shuddering breath, wiping his tears away before tucking his head into deceit’s tassels. 

“I just want to get off this goddamn pole, Dece.”

Deceit nodded, slowly.

“I don’t know, I can’t help you.”

And Logan felt a small smile slip onto his face. 

~

As it turns out, Logan is absolutely terrified of heights. 

Deceit had curled around the bottom of the spoke and Logan had used it to boost himself off the pole. 

Only, now that there was no security and he was free to walk about, every step causing something to wobble, vertigo settled in and Logan found himself sat, clinging onto the pole that he had been restrained to or dear life, eyes pressed closed until he was sure he wasn’t looking down. 

“I’m going to stay right here and not tell Roman that you will not be meeting you partway down.”

Logan nodded quickly, trying to get used to having his eyes open, but he still had to press them closed sometimes. 

“Okay, but please be quick, I don’t like being up here alone.”

You should resume your standing position, something inside him reminds him. It’s nearly 6 o’clock.

Damn the goddamn time, too, he thinks.

Thursday 19th, about 5 AM

There wasn’t far to go now. Just a bit more. 

Deceit had helped him get unstuck from the branches twice. It was far easier to get the loop caught up here. All the branches were much closer together and felt more like wading through a jungle than climbing a tree. 

Roman looked from his current spot to see how much further he had to go. 

Not far, thank all the heavens. 

He couldn’t wait to see the angel once more, to see him and learn about him, and to comfort him and keep him company. 

He let his mind wander to the quiet Christmas music being played as he clambered through sweeping branches. He let himself hum along to the music, singing when there were words to be sung.

“When you first took my hand, On a cold Christmas Eve, You promised me, Broadway was waiting for me.”

He let the lyrics flow out of him, the melody washing him with a warm sense of nostalgia. 

“You were handsome-” Roman was interrupted.

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City.”  chimed another voice, perfectly in tune with the song. It was distant but audible, and definitely from above him and Roman felt his heart flicker with hope. 

“When the band finished playing

They howled out for more

Sinatra was swinging,

All the drunks they were singing

We kissed on a corner

Then danced through the night.” They finished the verse together, and Roman felt himself sink down to listen to the sweet sound of this other person. 

They made through most of the song, but they felt words dying on their lips, as the time ticked over to 6 o’clock. 

Perhaps they may finish a song together tomorrow. 

Friday 20th, Midnight

Logan was filled with the residual warm feeling that had settled in his heart yesterday.  

That couldn’t have been anyone but Roman singing yesterday; he knows the voices of every other creature that is near the top of the tree. That was not a familiar one, but it was a blessing to hear; Roman sung like an angel, however backwards that statement was. He wasn’t lying. 

“What’s got you all dopey then?” If Deceit had eyebrows Logan was sure that one of them would be raised. 

“Didn’t you hear him? His voice was so sweet and smooth and I don’t know how to feel ab-”

“My, my. I never imagined the day I’d see Logan Sanders swoon.”

“Oh, quiet, snake.”

“Well, guess I won’t help you get down towards him, then.”

“Wait! No, Dece come back, please!”

Deceit turned his head back towards the angel and tilted his head downwards. 

“Grab on then.”

Logan felt a wide smile slit his face, and he grabbed a hold of Deceit’s neck? Body? Did Deceit even really have a neck? Either way- unimportant. 

Deceit gently lowered Logan through three layers of branches, before stopping, and asking Logan to wait there, before disappearing into the expanse of branches.

When he came back up, clinging to his neck was a smartly dressed nutcracker, white tunic laced with gold embroidery and red sash drawing attention to his more muscular physique. 

(Logan didn’t hear Deceit mutter, ‘go get him, tiger’ to Roman before he slipped away)

God, Logan was swooning and damn, was Roman really, really hot. 

“Oh my god, you’re actually here.” The words tumble out of his lips before he could stop them. 

“I can’t believe I’m here, either, to be honest.” Roman chuckled, hand moving up to rub at his neck shyly, and Logan was gone, eyes full of wonder and nothing was stopping him from walking towards Roman. 

“The night sky once ruled my imagination,” Logan felt himself sing as he looked into Roman’s eyes. “Now I turn the dials with careful calculation.”

“After a while, I thought I'd never find you. I convinced myself that I would never find you when suddenly I saw you.” Roman started singing, and Logan felt his hand reaching out to grasp his hand. 

“At first I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You're as beautiful as endless, You're the universe I'm helpless in.” They sang together, quiet melody being weaved between their words. 

They sang together, and Logan felt on top of the world, more so than he had when on top of the tree, and Roman felt on top of the world, higher than he’d ever been before. As the song came to an end, they rested their foreheads together, quietly appreciating each other’s presence. 

“Can I hug you?” Roman asked tentatively. Logan paused for a second, then nodded. 

The warmth that settled in his bones, the ease of the itches under his skin were so unknown and so distant in memory it felt like a lost memory returning. Logan had never quite felt as completed or safe as he had then, and he latched even tighter to the smaller nutcracker. 

Roman tucked his head into the angel’s shoulder, feeling the taller man relax and settle more, tension easing out of his muscles, slowly but surely, and the gentle shuffling of his wings drew Roman’s hand up to stroke them softly, and Roman felt Logan shiver in his hold. 

Logan whispered something almost inaudibly, and Roman let out a quiet chuckle.

“You’ll have to speak a little louder for me to hear, lov-”

“May I kiss you?” Logan kept his eyes trained to the floor, and Roman choked on his words. “I am no fan of feelings but you’ve quite encaptured me, but do not feel obligated to do anything bec-”

Logan was cut off with a sweet kiss, lingering slightly and stealing his breath. 

“Please shut up and kiss me again, Logan.” 

Logan didn’t hesitate to fulfil Roman’s request. 

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 8

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 8 

AN: Thank you, to everyone who is enjoying the story and thank you to @jtargaryen18 for sending me positive thoughts.

Link to master list: 

Warnings: Character death, mention of past sexual assault and PTSD.

They reached the kitchen without anyone catching them, but Grace swore she could hear the soundtrack for Swan Lake playing in the distance. Maybe it was just her imagination. Clint grabbed a pack of chocolate cookies, while Grace made the popcorn, and some salted caramel brownies. There was plenty of stuff left over, as they sneakily went to Clint's bedroom. Clint was amused to see Grace's cats were asleep on the lounge near his bed, with Lucky settled peacefully on the large dog bed. He turned on Netflix, and found a film called Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. He waited until Grace was comfortable and played the film, as they sat together in a comfortable silence while watching the film. Grace felt safe around Clint, he reminded her of a fierce hawk. She smiled, and offered him the plate of brownies, he took one and bit into it with a smile of thanks. They both watched the film, and were impressed so far.

Bucky found himself unable to sleep again, his nightmares were constantly waking him, and it made him hate what he was even more. He hated HYDRA, and he hated the KGB for turning him into the Winter Soldier. At least he wasn't that anymore, he preferred the name White Wolf that the Wakandan children had given him during his stay with the kind, gentle villagers. He heard music playing from the ballet studio, and curiously went to see what was going on. He was surprised to see it was Sophie, and she was dancing to Swan Lake, her movements graceful. It was reminding Bucky of Natasha, if he thought about it. "You're up late, doll." Bucky said quietly, Sophie jumped at hearing his voice, and turned around to face him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake up anyone. I just couldn't sleep, my mind's just a jumbled mess," Sophie explained shyly, she was wearing a grey tank top with a pair of black sweatpants. Her eyes strayed to Bucky, he was in a pair of black sweatpants and shirtless, his left metal arm glowing in the dim lighting. She could see the gold outlines on his left metal arm. He looked intimidating but at the same time gentle, she cautiously put a hand on his left arm feeling him shiver against her touch. He swallowed roughly, and turned his face away. "Monster," he said bitterly, Sophie shook her head and squeezed his metal hand gently. She didn't think he was a monster, he'd been used as a weapon by HYDRA and the Soviet Union. "I think you should be calling me that, James. I was born out of rape, a lot of people would think I'm a monster." Sophie said quietly, feeling heartbroken at how terrified her mother must have been as had their father had been. "You weren't given a choice Sophie, your father...I remember him vaguely. My memories are slowly coming back, I write them in my journals," Bucky explained quietly, and Sophie looked at him quietly. "So, they're memory books?" She asked stunned, a part of her felt terrible for how Bucky must feel having to have these horrific memories of his crimes. He was a victim, just like her parents and Grace had been. The thought of what Grace had been put through, horrified her when they heard Jarvis speak. "Shall, I turn off the music Miss Sophie?" The AI asked politely, Sophie nodded in agreement at his suggestion. "Yes please, Jarvis." She said softly and looked at Bucky who was fussing over Raymond who'd come to visit. The Bengal rescue cat purred loudly and allowed him to stroke his chin.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I started journaling not long after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and I was a fugitive for a couple of years." Sophie stopped to consider that. "You must have been… I can't imagine what that was like for you. All of a sudden you were free in a world that was so different from the one you came from. Was there no one to help you? Anyone?" Bucky shrugged, continuing to pet Raymond. "I could have gone to Steve. I should have gone to Steve. I spent most of that time avoiding him and he was just trying to help me." "Did you remember him at all?" Sophie wondered. "I know you were close before all of that happened to you." "In bits and pieces, Sophie," he admitted. "What I read about him in the Smithsonian seemed like an encyclopaedia next to what I remembered about him then. He said he was my friend but… I didn't know who to trust." His gaze met hers, the sympathy in her expression made him pause. "That's why I want to help you and your sister, I guess. I have an idea of what it's like to be tossed away when you're no longer useful and have to try and survive in a place you're completely unprepared for." He handed her Raymond, glancing around the ballet studio. "I'm grateful that you and Grace are here. This might not be what you wanted but it's better than falling into HYDRA's hands." Wrapping her arms carefully around her cat, she nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about all of this, Bucky. I'm used to making cakes, not kicking ass." He laughed at that. "You'll do better than you think," he told her. "You showed a lot of promise today." "Yeah." Rolling her eyes, she put Raymond down at her feet. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel like I was… getting somewhere with that." "You did great," he told her. "And you weren't acting at all?" she said with a challenge. He'd kind of guessed that she was proud. He was starting to realize that he'd only just scratched that surface. "I wasn't acting at all," he said seriously. Sophie seemed to consider that. "I guess it wasn't terrible then. Grace showed me up." "She took down Peter." He snorted. "He wouldn't have gotten up off that mat so fast if you'd been the one who nailed him." She nodded, seeming embarrassed by the praise. "We could match you up with someone else to spar if that would help," he offered. "If that would make you feel better." "No," she said quickly, her face darkening. "No, I'd rather work with you. I don't want easier to feed my ego. You give me something to work towards. If I ever get to a point where I can take you down, well, I'll have some sense of accomplishment." "You will, huh?" Sophie was flustered, and it was adorable. "Don't make fun of me," she said with a nervous laugh. "Wouldn't dare, doll," he said with all honesty. "There's a lot of things I can't do. I couldn't make a cake to save my life. Hell, I can barely heat canned and frozen stuff when I have to." Her laugh was a warm, beautiful sound. "I sure couldn't dance like that," he admitted. "You can't dance at all?" She quirked a brow at him. "I didn't say that," he explained. "Used to love going dancing before I went into the army. I'd stay out on the floor with the dames—ladies for hours. Used to drive Steve nuts when I'd set him up on a blind date and drag him along." "Show me," Sophie challenged him. "We're up anyway. Dance with me."

"You're on doll," Bucky said intrigued, and he gently held her by the waist as Jarvis began playing slow jazz music on the speakers. He effortlessly spun her around, and pulled her into his arms, as they began doing a very intimate dance. He distantly recalled dancing before the war, and Sophie smiled at him as he threw her over his shoulder in an effortless move. She laughed, and they continued to dance. He didn't feel like a monster and smiled as the music changed to swan lake. He watched impressed as Sophie pointed her toes and leaned against the bar up against the mirror. She smiled at him, and he pulled her into him as they did pas de deux, and he smiled when she did the spin with attitude. She was like one of those miniature ballet dancers in a music box, spinning around delicately. "I'll catch you, trust me," he said quietly, she nodded at him and did the split leap, landing gracefully in his arms as the soundtrack finished dramatically. Neither of them had noticed Steve, and Natasha watching them.

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"It's like watching a Soviet Union version of Swan Lake, you know?" Natasha said softly, as they both watched Bucky and Sophie perform ballet. Steve nodded in agreement, he couldn't help but admire Bucky's dance moves, which clearly had ballet incorporated into the choreography.

Sophie performed a split leap, which would make any gymnast jealous as the music began ending dramatically. She landed gracefully in Bucky's arms, and Steve smiled.

Bucky looked relaxed, and happy. He was happy that Sophie had been able to make him, smile.

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Clint woke up to see that Grace was fast asleep, and it was three AM in the morning. He vaguely remembered that after watching Mission Impossible, they'd brushed their teeth and put the food away. He quietly put the quilt around her, and she curled up into him even more, seeking his warmth. He stilled, but relaxed and laid down beside her. Laura hadn't liked him holding her too much, that should have signalled warning bells, but he'd been in love with her. He had genuinely thought she had loved him and look how that turned out. Last night, Grace had comforted him and confessed that she felt the exact same way as he did about her son. She knew his pain, and the terrible heartache it left. Unlike Grace, he had closure, but she didn't have that small comfort. She'd been left in an agonising limbo with her sister, ever since S.H.I.E.L.D had taken Zach away. Hopefully they would find him, he felt Grace trembling in the bedsheets and saw she was crying fearfully. "Please don't do this, just let me go home. I swear I won't tell anyone," she sobbed frightened.

"Grace?" He muttered, his voice rough from sleep. "Please don't," she began to cry in her sleep. "Don't touch me. Please. I just want to go home—" "Grace!" Clint had firmly grasped her upper arms and shook her enough to awaken her but not enough to make her terror worse. "Gracie, wake up." Her eyes flew open, rolling around wildly until she began to focus on him. Her palm smoothed up to his face, staring hard at him for a moment as if she didn't know him. "Grace, it's Clint. It's me. Breathe," he whispered. Tears ran over her cheeks. Christ, she looked so scared. "Clint?" She asked, sounding so small. "Yeah, it's me," he told her, keeping his voice calm. "You're safe. I've got you." Her eyes scanned the room frantically, she seemed to be remembering how she'd got there and why. "He's not here?" "No, honey, he's not. Just me. You're safe with me," he whispered. "Please breathe. You're scaring me." It reminded him of the nightmares Cooper used to have when he was small, worried about monsters killing his daddy. She sucked in air before a sob ripped from her chest, a low painful sound that broke his heart as he watched her crumble. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her to his chest and holding her close. "It's okay. I've got you. You're safe with me." "Oh my God, Clint," she managed between sobs and breaths. "He's… he's still out there." "Not for long," he swore. Brock Rumlow's days were numbered. Clint would personally guarantee that. "What if he… f-finds me?" Her voice sounded so broken. "One day," Clint told her, rubbing small circles on her back, "he will find us. You and me. And we'll finish him, Grace. We'll keep him from ever hurting anyone else. I promise." Her arms wrapped around him, held him tight. He felt her nod against his chest. "Yes… yes, we will. I want to be there, Clint," she said, sounding stronger. Pulling back, she stared up into his face, her eyes filled with shadows of the pain he felt. "I want to be there to see it." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he pulled her into his chest and stretched out on his back. "You'll be there, Grace. You'll see it." Nodding, she rested her head on his chest, throwing one slim leg across his own as she sought comfort. Trusting him as her sobs faded and her breaths slowed down into the cadence of sleep. Clint, who had a hard time sleeping himself, just enjoyed holding her. Her sleep seemed peaceful now and he'd take that. She'd need her sleep for the days ahead. He wasn't just telling her nonsense to get her to go back to sleep. He'd meant every word he'd said. He didn't care if Rumlow found him or it was the other way around. The outcome would be the same. Rumlow was already dead.

Clint had never hated someone as much as he did about Rumlow, and Laura but he did hate them. He'd make Rumlow suffer for what he'd done to Grace, and all of his other victims. He held Grace close and leaned back against the pillows as Starling came over and sat by his feet. The black cat purring lightly, as he lulled Clint into a restful sleep.

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Jarvis woke up the team for their morning training session, causing a bleary-eyed Tony to stumble out of his bedroom. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his Metallica t-shirt looked like it was covered in motor oil. "Eat breakfast, then we'll be doing team training," Steve said amused, when he saw Bucky and Sophie coming together, Bucky had a peaceful expression on his face while Sophie looked more at ease than she had yesterday. "Who's turn is it to cook?" Natasha asked curiously, the team had come up with a weekly rota, so each team member could cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. "Mine, Sam cooked yesterday." Bucky answered, as he began getting the ingredients out for Belgian waffles, pancakes and beef sausages. "Are we doing the training, and then eating?" Sophie asked tentatively, she didn't know how this worked out but was curious about how the team did it. "We'll be eating breakfast, and then doing training, shortly. We want you to build muscle, not waste away." Natasha explained patiently, and Sophie smiled in understanding. "Mr Stark, there are two police officers wishing to speak with you," Jarvis announced, Tony frowned but nodded at the AI. "Let them in, Jarvis." He said wearily, and they heard a car driving into the car park before seeing on the security camera two non-uniformed police officers entering. "Mr Stark, I'm Lieutenant Olivia Benson and this is my partner, Detective Amanda Rollins. I'm afraid, something has happened to Happy Hogan." The woman said gently. The room became quiet, everyone looked worried and Tony had paled considerably. "Is Happy alright? Where is he?" Tony asked worriedly, he cared a lot about Happy and the man had always supported him. "I'm so sorry Mr Stark, but Happy Hogan was found murdered this morning outside Stark Industries. Do you know where we can find Virginia Potts? She was the last person who Happy spoke to." Olivia explained sympathetically, her hazel eyes meeting his. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Happy was dead......someone had murdered his close friend, and he felt sick to his stomach. The others looked at him worriedly, wanting to say something to try and console him. "I haven't spoken to Pepper since yesterday morning, she wants a divorce and I'm signing the papers today," Tony said quietly, feeling distraught. Who would want to kill Happy?

"Are you… are you sure it's him? Has the body been identified?" Tony tried, praying with everything he had that this was a mistake, that he and Happy could laugh it off later.

"You can help us with that, positive identification," Detective Rollins told him. "If you'd come with us."

Natasha gently embraced Tony from behind. "Maybe this is a mistake," she whispered.

Tony felt fragile at the moment like Nat was holding him up.

"Stay here and manage things," Tony told her. "I won't be long."

To Steve he nodded. "Take care of things, Cap."

Steve's face mirrored the sadness that was crushing him from the inside. Steve clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever you need," Steve told him.

Tony saw Bucky and the one spider girl, read their concern. Since when did people feel sorry for him? Pity him?

At least he had his shoes on as he trudged after the two policewomen and headed out of the front of the compound. The detective – her name was Amanda, right? – turned back to him as she motioned to their unmarked sedan.

"Would you like to bring someone with you, Mr. Stark?" she offered.

Tony felt lost, realizing everyone was back up in the kitchen. Glancing up and down the sidewalk, he saw one small woman coming up the walk, lugging a bag as big as she was. Her dark brown hair had gold highlights in the sun and it looked like she'd spent some time styling it. Her blouse and skirt looked professional, the heels he could tell she wasn't used to walking in were scuffed already and there was a huge runner in her stockings as she carried the bag up to the sidewalk.

Deliberately he came to a stop in front of her. "Who are you?"

Her mouth dropped open when she glanced up at him, her grey eyes wide. "Lillia Dumitrescu."

"Do you work here?"

The young woman nodded. "It's my first day."

She was adorable, and she would do.

"You work for me?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark."

"Okay, we're going to the police station," he told her before opening the back door and ushering her in the back of the car, huge bag and all. "Get in."

Once they were settled, she sat demurely in the back with her hands folded in her lap. "Am I in trouble, Mr. Stark?"

Tony shook his head. "I just need someone to come with me to the police station."

"Okay."

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Tagging list: @jtargaryen18, @marvelfansworld, @sapphirescrolls, @kitkatd7, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork, @nomadicpixel and @queenoftheunderdark, and @my-favourite-fics​

[setaripendragon]

Never Simple - Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] This chapter is mostly just build up, if I’m honest, and Tucker is really annoying to write. I’m never sure if I’ve got the right balance of unassuming and creepy.

Central City was huge and crowded. To Ed, who had never been beyond Risembool before, it was overwhelming. He was loathe to admit it, but he really did not want to get off the train. Just looking at the platform through the window was enough to make him feel claustrophobic. But he wasn’t the only one inside his own body anymore, and Truth got them up off the seat before Ed could sink any deeper into his reluctance.

Swallowing down his nerves, Ed gave Truth a mental nudge, and took over the task of collecting his suitcase. “Come on, Al.” He said, watching his brother as unobtrusively as possible to make sure he didn’t need any help. Al nodded, although he didn’t look any happier than Ed about the prospect of wading through the press of people on the platform, and slid down off his seat.

It hadn’t been the plan, for Al to come with him. Ed had been very determined to do this on his own, not to drag Al any deeper into the shit he’d stirred up, but then… Al hadn’t gotten better. Not all the way. It wasn’t anything as bad as right after Truth had possessed him – no more seizures, no more passing out, no more or lost time – but he’d been running a constant low-grade fever that just… wouldn’t go away. He complained of aching all the time, of shortness of breath, of persistent coughs and colds.

Then he’d caught pneumonia, and Ed had been half convinced he was going to have to bury his brother less than a year after burying his mother, he’d gotten so bad so quickly. After that, Granny had insisted that Al go with Ed to Central to see a specialist or five, and Ed hadn’t argued, never mind the fact that Al had eventually gotten better.

Wordlessly, Al grabbed hold of Ed’s hand, and Ed squeezed back, hoping it was reassuring. Then he set his jaw and forged ahead, hopping down off the train and into the seething crowd. The press of humanity was immediately overwhelming, and Ed was abruptly reminded of the Gate, of the multitudes of biological masses crushed together and writhing amongst each other, desperate and devouring and- His body threatened to lock up but Truth, once again, took over and kept them moving. They popped out of the scrum right beside the train into a less crowded section of the station, Al’s hand still safely clutched in Ed’s, only to be immediately confronted with military blue.

“Ah, there you are.”

Truth rippled under Ed’s skin, an instinctive roiling, and even if Ed hadn’t recognised the voice, he would have known who it was just from that reaction. “Mustang.” He greeted, glancing over the man and the ever-present Hawkeye at his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to meet you at the military place.” He added with a scowl, because Granny had lectured him thoroughly on where he was supposed to go and how to get there, and there had been no talk of someone meeting them at the station.

“Originally, yes.” Mustang agreed. “But my original plans only factored in yourself, a State Alchemist candidate, for which I would have a certain leeway in providing for with military funds. The same could not be said for your brother, so I was forced to make other arrangements.”

Ed glowered, wondering whether he ought to take offence at the way the man was making Al sound like an inconvenient burden. Before he could do more than take a deep breath, though, Al squeezed his hand, and interrupted. “What sort of other arrangements, sir?”

“Since you would not be permitted to reside in the military dorms until the exam, I’ve convinced a State Alchemist to take you both in until the exams. I assumed you wouldn’t want to be separated.” He added, glancing at where they were still holding on to each other.

Ed refused to be embarrassed. “You got that right.” He asserted.

Mustang smiled, infuriatingly smug, and turned towards the exit. “Come along, then, Messrs Elric.”

“Not your fucking dog, bastard.” Ed growled.

“Not yet.” Mustang retorted without missing a beat, and Ed was dearly tempted to kick the man in the back of his knee. He wouldn’t be so smug after he’d fallen flat on his face in the middle of a train station. It was a nice thought, anyway, even if he knew Truth would never actually let him go through with it.

Mustang led them to a shiny black car, and opened the back door for them while Hawkeye got into the driver’s seat. Ed made Al get in first, then shoved their suitcases in, and climbed in after him. “How’re you feeling, Al?” He checked, rearranging the suitcases so they weren’t in the way. Mustang reappeared, getting into the front passenger seat, and Hawkeye started the car and pulled out onto the road.

Al gave Ed a deeply long-suffering look and a fond smile. “I’m okay, Brother. Really.” He added when Ed only continued to stare at him, trying to judge if he was being sincere. “Just a little bit tired.” He added, which was par for the course these days, and so it didn’t worry Ed too much.

“Then you should have a nap whenever we get to where we’re going.” Ed insisted, and then turned to look at what he could see of Mustang, which was mostly just his shoulder, his hair, and one pale ear. “Where are we going, anyway?” He demanded, raising his voice a little to make it clear he wasn’t talking to Al anymore.

“You’ll be staying at the house of Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist.” Mustang informs him. “He has a very extensive library, including several works on biological alchemy that cannot be found anywhere else. I thought you might appreciate the chance to study some more before the exams.” He explained smugly.

Ed honestly wasn’t sure whether it was himself or Truth that snorted at that. They were so united in their scorn at the notion that they might need to study that it hardly mattered anyway. “If there’s anything he can teach me about biological alchemy, I’ll eat my boot.” Ed announced, folding his arms over his chest decisively.

Mustang turned around at that to give Ed a deeply unimpressed look. “For his own State Alchemist exam, Shou Tucker successfully created a talking chimera.” He stated, and then raised one eyebrow in blatant challenge.

Ed narrowed his eyes right back. “Talking or mimicking?” He asked.

Mustang’s other eyebrow rose to join its twin. “What do you mean?”

Slumping back into his seat, Ed scowled and rolled his eyes. “I mean that there are a lot of animals that can mimic human speech. Parrots, corvids, some monkeys. Make a chimera out of one or more of those, and you could probably teach them a bunch of phrases. So. Was it actually conversing, or was it just mimicking human voices, repeating things by rote?”

“It said only ‘I want to die’.” Mustang informed him, sounding mildly thoughtful, and Ed made a triumphant sound, that died in his throat a moment later when Mustang finished; “Then it starved itself until it got its wish.”

So it knew what it was saying. Truth concluded for Ed.

Some birds can use human speech to communicate. It’s not exactly conclusive proof. Ed thought grouchily, but he knew Truth would be able to tell that he wasn’t convinced. It was one thing for a bird to learn to associate the sound ‘food’ with being fed, and use it to request food, and another thing entirely for it to manage proper grammar, to understand ‘I’ and ‘want’ and the grammatical difference between ‘death’ and ‘to die’. And to put it all together into a sentence that wasn’t just a bunch of sounds learned by rote, but something it meant, enough to starve itself to death.

Not an easy thing to do, with food being provided for it. Truth pointed out, not that Ed needed it to. Survival instinct was a powerful force, usually. I assume Mustang would have mentioned it if the chimera looked human? Truth wondered, sending a nasty chill through Ed.

“Did it… look anything like a human?” Ed asked tentatively.

There was a pause, and Ed looked up to find Mustang glancing back at him again, startled by the question. “Not at all.” He said, with enough conviction that Ed didn’t doubt that he’d seen it. “It looked somewhat like a dog, somewhat like a monkey, and somewhat like a very small pony.” He paused, thoughtfully. “It had opposable thumbs, though.”

There was a grim note to Truth’s emotions that made Ed feel a bit sick. “Are there pictures?” He asked, and then, even though he didn’t want to; “Can I see them?”

Mustang abruptly looked smug again. “So, is this you admitting that perhaps Mr Tucker could teach you something about biological alchemy?” He taunted. Ed glowered at him, but Mustang just hummed knowingly, and returned his attention to the front of the car. “I’m sure Mr Tucker would be willing to show you his notes, if you asked nicely.”

Ed crossed his arms in a huff, but resolved that he would do his best to wheedle the notes out of Tucker. After the last six months or so, Ed had learned enough about the composition of many different brains to know that it would have been difficult – if not impossible – for Tucker to create a sufficiently advanced brain in a chimera made up of less complex animals. There was a very slim possibility that, if he’d studied brain structure and brain chemistry thoroughly enough, he could piece together a functional language-processing system out of bits and pieces, but… Ed had a sneaking suspicion that that would have required the knowledge of the things behind the gate.

It’s a really bad sign when you’re hoping for it to just be human experimentation, isn’t it? Ed thought dully, turning his head to glower out of the window. Truth didn’t answer, but Ed didn’t really need it to.

Outside the window, Central City rushed past, buildings and people and a couple of other cars now and then. The occasional tree or patch of greenery that signified a park or a particularly well-kept lawn. It distracted Truth more than it did Ed. It’s been so long since I last saw through human eyes. Truth explained, when Ed wondered about it’s preoccupation with the sights. It had said similar things before, when Ed was exploring Risembool, and it had been particularly interested in automail, which had definitely endeared it to Winry, but this seemed… different somehow. Cities didn’t used to taste like this, so much metal, steel and iron. And the concrete. Plastics. Ed’s head spun a little as Truth remembered every ‘taste’ it had experienced as Ed had ploughed through the crowd at the station, the molecular structure of everything it had touched en route to the car.

The scenery eventually slowed, and then stopped, and then Hawkeye said, somewhat unnecessarily, “we’re here,” as she turned the car off. Ed turned to check on Al, and found that at some point, he’d fallen into a light doze, head resting against the window.

“Al?” Ed called gently, reaching out to nudge his brother’s shoulder. Al grumbled, scrunched his face up, and tipped his head to squint blearily at Ed. “We’re here.” He repeated, and Al perked up a little, lifting his head properly to look out of the window.

“Oh.” He said dumbly, and Ed snorted.

“Come on, sleepy, let’s get inside so you can have a proper nap.”

Al nodded, so Ed scrambled out of the car, dragging their suitcases behind him so that Al couldn’t try to be an idiot and carry his own. The house he found himself standing in front of was huge, with a wrought iron gate and a wide lawn and at least three stories of red brick and large arched windows. “Oh, wow.” Al breathed as he came up to stand at Ed’s shoulder. “This place is huge.”

“The State Alchemist programme pays very handsomely.” Mustang agreed, smugly. Ed was beginning to figure out that was just the man’s default state. He allowed himself to be ushered up the pretty white path bisecting the front garden, and up the steps that lead to the front door. It was very nearly picturesque, but the closer Ed got to the door, the less he actually wanted to go through it. Something about this place was setting his teeth on edge.

Mustang knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, one half creaked open apparently by itself. At least, that’s what Ed thought until he looked down and saw a little auburn-haired girl hanging off the door handle. “Hello.” She said, staring up at them. “Are you Daddy’s guests?”

“That’s us!” Al confirmed cheerfully.

“Nina!” An exasperated voice called, right before a man that Ed assumed was Shou Tucker appeared behind his daughter. “I’m sorry, I was in my lab. Hello, Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant.” He greeted them with a nod, and then looked to Ed and Al. “And these must be the Elric brothers.”

“I’m Ed, and this is my little brother, Al.” Ed introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Tucker replied with a faint smile. “I’m Shou Tucker, and this is my daughter, Nina.” Ed was about to say he’d figured that much out already, but Al elbowed him, and he snapped his mouth shut before the words spilled out. Right, politeness. “Please, come in.” Tucker went on, stepping back from the doorway and tugging Nina with him. “Will you be staying, Colonel? I can put on some tea…” He trailed off, sounding just a little uncertain, or maybe sheepish was a better word. Ed couldn’t quite place that strange hesitance.

“Tea would be lovely.” Mustang said politely.

Hawkeye cleared her throat. “You have work, sir.” She reminded him crisply, giving him the evil eye. Ed didn’t even bother to hide his grin at the way Mustang squirmed.

“Work can wait for another fifteen minutes, Lieutenant.” Mustang protested. “You wouldn’t want to abandon two children in a strange house without making sure they were settling in okay, would you? Besides, it would be rude to refuse.” He wheedled.

Hawkeye glared at him, but then her gaze softened a little as it flicked down to take in Ed and Al. Who absolutely did not need any supervision to dump their suitcases in a guest room and locate the library, but whatever. Adults were weird about that sort of thing. “Fifteen minutes, sir.” Hawkeye capitulated.

“Excellent!” Mustang enthused.

Tucker, who’d been watching the back and forth in bemusement, started leading them down the impressive hall now that everyone had decided whether they were staying or going. Nina scampered along at his heels, constantly peeking back at Ed and Al. Al waved every time she did, and on the third go around, Ed was pretty sure he heard her giggle.

The kitchen was just as large and impressive as the rest of the house, and they settled in around the large table after Ed double checked that Al was okay to stay up long enough for tea. “I told Edward some about your work on the way here.” Mustang began, once they all had steaming mugs in front of them. “He was very interested in your talking chimera.”

Tucker grimaced. “Ah, yes…” He sighed, and then glanced towards Edward, who was sitting up a little straighter, and trying to look attentive, instead of suspicious. “I was very proud of that, but I’ve been… unable to replicate the results.” He admitted ruefully, adjusting his glasses.

Do you think he could have put the right pieces together by accident? Ed wondered sceptically. Truth didn’t reply, just nudged him to pay attention. “That’s a pity.” Ed said, trying to sound sincere. “Do you think I could see your notes?”

Tucker blinked at him in surprise. “Uh… sure…” He said slowly, then winced. “That is… if you can find them. I know they’re in the library somewhere, but I can’t remember where. It’s been a while since I could wring anything useful out of them myself.”

“We can see your library?” Al asked, bright and eager. It was a relief to see, given how tired Al tended to be most of the time these days.

Tucker huffed a sound that was almost a laugh, and nodded. “Of course. I’m afraid I have a lot of work to do, what with the recertification coming up, so I won’t have any time to entertain guests.” Another grimace, and this time he slanted his look across to Nina. “I barely have any time for Nina anymore, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s okay, Daddy. I have Alexander to play with!” Nina assured him.

Tucker smiled, and leaned over to pat her on the head. “Alexander?” Al asked curiously.

“Our dog!” Nina informed him. “He’s huge and white and fluffy! And he’s really friendly and loves hugs!” She enthused.

Al chuckled, which turned into a cough. “He sounds like the perfect dog.” He managed to say once he’d suppressed the cough and drunk some tea to help wash the tickle away.

“Are you okay, Mister?” Nina asked, peering at him with exaggerated little kid worry.

“It’s just a cold.” Al assured her, not even twitching, the lying liar.

“You should go lie down.” Ed told him. “Get that nap.”

“I slept in the car, Brother. I’m fine.” Al insisted, scowling at him. “I’m not made of glass, you know.” Ed scowled right back, opening his mouth to argue further, but Al cut him off before he could start. “Besides, I want to see Mr Tucker’s library. Imagine how big it must be if you could lose notes in it!” His gaze slid out of focus as his expression turned wistful.

Ed couldn’t really blame him, but he could put his foot down. “Nap first, then the library.” He ordered. And this time he was the one cutting Al off before he could argue, which he was definitely going to with that outraged look on his face. “If you see the library first, you’ll start reading, and then the next thing you know, it’ll be dinner time, and you won’t have gotten a nap at all! Nap first.”

“Spoilsport.” Al pouted, because they both knew Ed was right. “You just want to keep the library all to yourself.”

“You know I’d rather have you there, Al.” Ed shot back, and Al wilted.

“You could come play with me and Alexander while Al has a nap, and that way you still both get to see the library together?” Nina suggested, and even though her voice was bold, there was a look on her face that tugged at Ed’s heartstrings. Truth was less affected, but since it didn’t actually voice a complaint, Ed decided to ignore it.

“I guess I could…” Ed mused reluctantly.

“That’s really sweet of you, Nina.” Al said, kicking Ed under the table. “I’m sure Brother would love to play with you.” Ed kicked Al back, but nodded for Nina, and the last of his reluctance melted away when he saw how she brightened at the confirmation.

“Well, since you seem to be settling in perfectly well, it’s time we were getting back to the office.” Hawkeye interjected. “Thank you very much for the tea, Mr Tucker.”

“Of course.” Tucker replied, trying not to smile at Mustang’s theatrical groan as he hauled himself to his feet. While Tucker was seeing them out, Ed chivvied Al upstairs to their room for the next few weeks, and tucked him into bed, despite Al’s eye-rolling at his fussing. Ed knew he was being kind of overbearing, honestly, but with all the knowledge Truth had crammed into his own head and leaking through in dribs and drabs, it just left him painfully aware of how ridiculously, stupidly fragile the human body really was.

Sitting on the edge of Al’s bed, he reached out and patted Al’s head, surreptitiously checking his temperature under the guise of ruffling his hair. “I’m just worried about you.” He muttered. “That’s my job as big brother.”

“I love you, too.” Al huffed fondly. “Now go away and let me sleep.”

Ed snorted, and ruffled Al’s hair a little more vigorously in punishment before getting up and going to find Nina. He found her peeking out at him from around the corner at the end of the hall his and Al’s bedroom was on, and when she spotted him she gave a tentative, hopeful little wave. “Hey.” Ed greeted. “So where’s Alexander, and what do you want to play?”

Beaming, Nina grabbed his hand the moment he was in reach, and began towing him towards the stairs. “Alexander is outside, because Daddy says he needs lots of exercise, but he doesn’t have time to take him for a walk.”

“Well, maybe we can do that for your dad while we’re here. You, me, and Al can take a walk with Alexander, and you can show us if there are any good parks around here.” Ed suggested. Of course, he regretted that offer the moment he stepped out of the back door and was promptly tackled by the biggest, fluffiest, friendliest dog he’d ever met and flattened to the floor as it snuffled at his hair and attempted to lick his face.

“Alexander likes you!” Nina enthused.

“Great.” Ed grumbled, pressing his face into the grass in the hopes of deterring the overly affectionate miniature bear sitting on top of him. The slew of mocking laughter he was expecting to hear inside his own head never came, and for all that he was glad not to be laughed at, it was more than a little weird to have such silence in his head when he’d gotten so used to the Truth having an opinion on everything.

You still there? He prodded.

Of course. I could hardly be anywhere else. Truth replied, but it felt distracted.

What’s got you all weird then? Ed pressed while he attempted to wriggle out from under Alexander, which devolved into play-wrestling, mostly because it made Nina laugh so hard she fell over on the grass.

We don’t… like this place. Truth decided.

Ed really wished he he could give Truth a look for that one, but he settled for just projecting as much disbelief and scepticism as he could. Because, well, obviously it didn’t. The guy who lived here was either experimenting on humans or had committed the same sin as Ed, that made the whole place creepy. What’s that supposed to mean?

We don’t know. Truth grumbled, petulant and frustrated and uncomfortable.

Well, let me know when you figure it out. Ed thought, rolling his eyes, and then threw himself headlong into playing with Nina and her bear that was masquerading as a dog to distract himself from everything. He didn’t really know what the hell was bothering Truth, but he could admit that he wasn’t exactly at ease with this place either. He would feel better once he’d found Tucker’s notes and could figure out what, exactly, he’d done to make a talking chimera, but since that had to wait for Al to wake up, he didn’t want to dwell on it.

Nina, he found, was a very lonely kid. All the shyness he’d seen in her before melted away under a little bit of attention, and she became quite the precocious little commander when given the opportunity. They played for long enough that even Ed was starting to get a little tired, and he was grateful when Nina flopped down onto the grass and called time out. He sat down beside her, and was forced to admit that Alexander wasn’t terrible when he came and flopped down in exactly the right place to be a back-rest for Ed to lean against.

“You must be a really good big brother.” Nina said lazily towards the sky.

Ed choked back the bitter laugh that wanted to escape on the surge of guilt that statement provoked. “I dunno. I try.” He hedged awkwardly.

“I wish I had a big brother like you.” Nina went on, and she sounded so stupidly sad and wistful that Ed couldn’t bring himself to explain to her that she really, really didn’t want a brother like him.

Instead, he cleared his throat. “Well, hey. Plenty of me to go around. I’m sure Al wouldn’t mind sharing.” Nina gasped and scrambled to sit up, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “A baby sister wouldn’t be too terrible.” He added, looking away and scratching at the back of his head awkwardly.

“I’m not a baby.” Nina protested, but didn’t linger over long on the point when there were clearly more important issues to address. “Really? You mean it?!”

“Sure.” Ed confirmed. “Me’n’Al, we can be your big brothers, if you want.” Nina threw herself at him, landing half on his stomach as she wrapped her tiny arms around him. Ed wheezed, but didn’t let it stop him hugging her back. After a little while, during which Nina showed absolutely no signs of intending to let go of him any time soon, Ed said; “It must get pretty lonely in this big house just you and your dad.”

“Mm.” Nina agreed. “I don’t mind, Daddy’s work is important and I have Alexander.” She insisted, but Ed was beginning to suspect that was lie.

“What about your mum?” Ed asked, even though he wasn’t sure it was a good idea.

“Mummy left.” Nina told him, very subdued. “She used to say that Daddy wasn’t doing enough to s’pport us, and Daddy won’t say, but I think that’s why she left. That’s why Daddy’s work is so important. If he works hard enough… maybe Mummy will come back.”

Ed winced. Yeah, that made a nasty kind of sense. He would lay good money on Mummy never coming back, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell Nina that if she wanted to cling to the hope that she might. So instead he asked Nina if she was in school yet – not yet, she was starting next year – and what she was looking forward to learning most – science, of course, because she was obviously a little kid with excellent taste.

Al found them not much later, and grinned down at the pile of them on the lawn. “You look like you had fun, Nina.” He said, sitting down cross-legged beside Ed’s legs.

“Yeah! We played tag, and princesses and dragons, and I got to be a knight, and Alexander really likes big brother Ed.” Nina explained, sitting up a little and nearly kneeing him in the side in her enthusiasm. Ed wrapped an arm around her middle in an attempt to prevent too much squirming.

Al arched an eyebrow at Ed at that last part, and Ed glowered at him, tightening the loose hold he had on Nina in response. “We have a little sister now.” He declared stubbornly.

“You don’t mind sharing, right, Al?” Nina checked.

“Not at all.” Al assured her. “Especially not with someone as cool as you.” He added, which made Nina light up with pride.

Ed took the opportunity to start clambering to his feet, setting Nina on her own feet once he was up, and then offering Al a hand. “So, library?” He asked with an eager grin.

Al took his hand, but didn’t immediately jump on the idea of finally getting to the library, although he looked decidedly torn. “I was thinking, Brother.” He began, and Ed gave him a pleading look, begging without words for him to not distract them from the library. Al, of course, ignored him. “We really do need to see if we can find a good butchers nearby, and you know if we don’t do it now, we’ll never get around to it.” He pointed out significantly.

Ed sighed. “You know it’s not like they’re going to have fresh produce in the city.” He retorted, but he wasn’t really arguing.

“The closer to the source we get it from, the better it will be for you.” Al countered.

“But the library-!” Ed whined, gesturing back towards the house.

“It’ll still be there when we get back.” Al assured him. Ed scowled at him for being patronising, but he knew that he couldn’t exactly explain what exactly he was so eager to look for while Nina was in hearing range. “Unless you want to try hunting for rabbits in the underbrush again.” Al said thoughtfully.

Ed actually considered that, sincerely enough that he got Truth’s attention. At the sense of Truth’s curiosity, he indulged the memory of the training he and Al had been put through in order to prove themselves worthy of alchemy training, too relieved that Truth was actually responding to something to deny it out of spite. Truth, however, had no compunctions about laughing at him. An excellent alchemy teacher. It decided. But we should still see if we can find a butcher.

You just want to get out of this house. Ed accused. Truth didn’t respond to that, because they both knew that Truth wasn’t the only one who would be grateful for an excuse to get away. Ed was torn though, between the creepy feeling he got from the place, and the need to know exactly what was going on here.

He was distracted from his internal musings when he heard Nina asking “Why would you be hunting for rabbits?”

“To eat.” Ed informed her bluntly, ignoring the stinkeye Al gave him for it.

Nina gasped in horror. “No! That’s mean!”

“That’s how life works.” Ed retorted. Al punched him in the arm, and then turned to Nina to try and explain the circle of life to her in a less upsetting way. “Come on, you can explain while we walk.” Ed told him, and Al nodded, agreeably continuing his explanation while they trooped through the house, found a leash for Alexander, and set off on their quest.

[hrhduchessoflancaster]

Chapter Ninety: Uncharted Territory

Disclaimer: see Prologue.

A/N: I know it’s been a very long time since I posted anything but here it is.Thank you so much for all your comments!! The story is almost over. Only a few more chapter to go. xx Bea.

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             The Invictus Games held in Toronto that year game Harry a purpose and a new sense of accomplishment. After all the turmoil that he and Elle had been through the last months, being able to be a part of something he was so proud of and really make a difference, shone in him a new light and perspective on what he could do now that he had more influence and power on his hands. Elle had stayed behind since Arthur was still too young to travel and needed his mother. 

        When he arrived in Canada, he once again met with the Trudeaus. The trio exchanged pleasantries before proceeding to the Prime Minister's home, where Harry would be a guest until they flew to Toronto on the following day.

" I'm very happy to be able to congratulate you in person on the birth of your son. We are all thrilled for you and Eleanor.", said Justin.

" Thank you. We're both very happy. Arthur really is an incredible child and truly a blessing to us both.", said Harry smiling.

"And... we've all been shocked to hear of the recent changes as well. I'm sorry if that is a sensitive topic, but I wanted to talk to you about some bilateral projects, if I may.", said Justin.

" It's somewhat delicate but I'm happy to talk about improving the relationship between the UK and Canada.", said Harry, giving a brief smile. " But for now, let's focus on the task in hand. This year's Invictus Games.", he continued and the Prime Minister nodded his head, not touching on the subject any longer.

    On the following morning, Harry flew to Toronto with the Prime Minister and his wife. He was taken in a black SUV to the Air Canada Center, where the opening and closing ceremony would held. As the car approached the venue, he could hear the music and cheer growing louder and louder. Stepping out of the car, Harry waved his hand at the public gathered. He walked backstage, alongside the Justin Trudeau and waited for his queue. As the teams filled the arena one by one, Harry watched as the speeches were made, getting emotional after each story of endurance and hardships that was shared. 

" Your Royal Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to stand before you tonight and welcome our competitors to this year's Invictus Games. But before we can declare this games officially opened I'd like to say a few words. Your Royal Highness, thank you so much for your leadership, vision and strength in realising and guiding  this project, which will allow so many of our brave veterans to keep moving forward and us, the opportunity to cheer them on.", said Justin and loud cheers and claps were heard from the audience.

"... and without further ado, here, to declare the Invictus Games Toronto 2017 opened, our patron and founder, Prince Harry.". Harry was then welcomed onstage and smiled at the audience. 

" Hello Toronto! Merci beaucoup pour votre hospitalité. And thank you Prime Minister for this warm welcome. Invictus is about the dedication of the men and women who served their countries, confronted hardship, and refused to be defined by their injuries. Invictus is about the families and friends who faced the shock of learning that their loved ones had been injured or fallen ill - and then rallied to support them on their journey of recovery. And above all, Invictus is about the example to the world that all service men and women - injured or not - provide about the importance of service and duty. I wanted to find a way for veterans to be a beacon of light, and show us all that we have a role to play; that we all win when we respect our friends, neighbours, and communities. That's why we created Invictus. Not only to help veterans recover from their physical and mental wounds; but also to inspire people to follow their example of resilience, optimism, and service in their own lives.", said Harry.

" Sadly, my wife could not join us here since she's at home with our little one...", he said and cheers erupted from the crowd. "... but she too wanted to pass along the message of hope we all share today.", he continued and a video appeared on the screen behind him. In it, Elle was dressed in her Invictus Toronto 2017 shirt and had a little Arthur, napping on her arms, dressed in the Invictus baby grow they had been gifted a few months ago.

" Hello Toronto! Hello competitors! It saddens me not to be able to see you compete fiercely in these coming days and cheer you on as I did last year in Florida. But as you can see, I have a very small person that needs my full attention.", she joked and there was a sound of laughter from the crowd. " These games were created so that each an every one of you can see and experience change and teamwork. You are all winners for having reached this far. For cheating death and overcome emotional and physical challenges. I hope you embody the spirit of this games by showing courage and determination that will inspire generations to come. You are proving to the world that everything is possible, even under the most impossible situations. Good luck to you all!", said Elle. As the video ended, another cheer and applauses were heard and Harry grinned. 

" Well, as my wife has said, I hope you are ready to inspire, to challenge, to work together, and to change your lives in the next coming days. You are Invictus! Let's get started!", he concluded, to a resounding cheer. 

    When Harry came back from Canada, he felt invigorated. He was ready to resume his public activities with full force. And so was Elle. With them both back at work, which had had some new additions to their normal workload since the singing of the Abdication document, Harry and Elle spent a lot of time on their engagements around London and the UK as well as working on their side projects. Elle had once again started writing her book, meeting every now and then with Melissa and Trevor to catch up and talk about academia. As for Harry, he was working on expanding Sentebale's work across other African countries.

A new Royal Tour was set for next year, on the Caribbean, which they hoped to bring their son along. Most of the times, if they’d be staying for more than a day, they’d bring Arthur with them. But he did spend a good deal of time with his grandparents, who, on both parts, doted on the little boy, dearly. Even though Charles and Camilla were estranged from Harry, Elle made a point to take baby Arthur to see them from time to time. As for her own parents, Victoria and Rupert adored babysitting their grandson and were completely at his mercy. Elle once caught her father bouncing the infant on his knee as he did with her when she was a child and it warmed her heart to see how much her son was loved by her family.

     Not to mention the staff. The entire McClaire gang doted on the little boy. Brandon and Olivia were delighted to have a child on the home again and usually commented on how much they had missed the joy of children whenever Elle was around. Jane and Gregory took upon themselves to play with Arthur whenever they could. As for Margaret and Thomas, they’d school the little boy about everything around the kitchen and garden, respectively. Now that he was starting to eat solids, Maggie was particularly fond of cooking small portions of baby food for Elle to take home with her to see if Arthur would enjoy it. And it had never failed to please the infant, to the chef’s delight. 

        Once winter arrived, and Elle’s birthday came to pass, she received the best gift she could ever wish for: hearing Arthur properly say his first couple of words, such as mama, dada and lan, which, of course, translated to the three most import things in his life: his parents and Lancelot. He had also mastered his tummy time and could roll on it and then upwards again, as well as sitting without either Harry or Elle helping him. They had a good routine going on of naps, playtime and feeds, with now a few solids introduced as well. The new parents quickly discovered Arthur’s fondness for bananas but his distaste for papaya. Little by little, the three of them were entering new territories. 

    On the second week of November, Elle and Harry prepared for Remembrance Sunday, as many other members of the Royal Family. That’d be the first big and meaningful event without William and Catherine. They had moved back to Anglesey with the children and Elle had heard weekly from Kate. Dressed in a black dress and matching black hat, she stood beside Camilla,  Anne, and Sophie on the balcony and watched as Her Majesty, Charles, Harry, Andrew and Edward all placed the red poppies wreath on the Cenotaph. A tear or two fell down her cheeks as she thought about all the suffering that still went on around the world; about the fight and the people, military and civilians alike that were caught in the numerous conflicts. 

     That day at the Cenotaph had been the first interaction Harry had had with his father since the Abdication. After the ceremony, once they were all inside, she saw them talking in hushed tones and Harry, although stone faced, was talking back to Charles and even gave a small, tight smile to his father when he showed his phone to him. Elle imagined they were talking about Arthur. On the mend… slowly, but surely., she thought observing father and son. 

 “ I’m so glad to see them taking again.”, said Camilla, coming to stand beside Elle. The young duchess nodded her head, agreeing with the older woman.

“ Indeed. There’s much work to be done, but the first steps have been taken.”, said Elle. 

 “ I hope he can do the same with his brother.”, commented Camilla. “… William… it’s been hard on him too. He misses Harry. They all do. Will you talk to him, Eleanor? See if he can, maybe, call him again?”, she asked.

 “ I’ll try. I promise. I don’t like this situation anymore than you do, but Harry needs to be allowed to get over the anger and resentment he’s still feeling before he can forgive both his father and his brother.”, said Elle.

 ************

     Long before the whole ordeal with the Abdication had come to pass, it had been decided that Harry, Elle, Arthur and Sir Lancelot would spend Christmas with her family that year, stopping by at Sandringham, to make a quick visit to the Queen and other members of the family, on Boxing Day. So when December came, Elle was more than happy to take all of the Christmas decorations from storage and start giving their apartment the very best of seasonal cheer. 

As this was Arthur’s first Christmas, she had outdone herself by making sure he was featured every step of the way, dressing him in the cutest outfits: from little Elf to Rudolf, a Snowman and Father Christmas himself. Harry would often sneak on her and take several pictures of her and of Arthur and sometimes he too would get into them. The album Elle had given him years ago was filling up quickly. Soon another one would have to be bought so they could be cataloging their lives together. 

When he went to their bedroom that evening to shower and change while Elle fed Arthur downstairs, he opened one of his drawers to look for that particular photo album when he saw the binder Elle had given him on their first anniversary, a few months ago. In it, there were the unopened letters she had written to him, each for a different occasion. Going through them, he found the one he was looking for: for when you feel lost. Carefully detaching it from the binder, Harry took the small envelope in his hands and opened it. Elle’s elegant penmanship came into view.

 My love, my darling Harry,

If you’re reading this letter, then it means something horrible has happened in yours or our lives and you need to keep yourself grounded, to find a path to keep going forward. I may not know what it is since I’m writing this in the past with no hindsight whatsoever about the future. But, I do know that you’ll always find a way to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. You are one of the strongest, most kind, good-hearted and positive people I know. You’ll find a way to see past whatever is troubling you because you know, deep down, that it’s not the edge of a cliff, or the end of journey. There’s so much more to be lived! You may be at a crossroads or maybe a very big challenge is what you’re facing… and although it seems like a big deal now, it will be nothing more than a little bump on your path towards a great and happy future. You can do it, Harry. You can face whatever challenge is put in front of you and you can find your path again. I hope I’m there by your side, through thick and thin, as we have vowed to each other. I hope you don’t need to read this letter because I’m going to be there by your side telling everything that is written here. But, in the case that I’m not for whatever reason or that you need to hear it again, and again, again… You can and you will be found. You will see clearer. You will overcome the darkness and the desolation you might have been feeling. Take a deep breath, focus on the good parts of your life, on the people who love and support you no matter what, find your inner strength to battle the urge to 

shut everyone out… forgiven and forget, my darling. The storm is scary but it always ends. And the result is a beautiful and clear sky. You may be lost in the middle of a storm right now, but it will end. I’m sure of it.

All my love, 

Elle.

Harry eyes were glossy and unshed tears threatened to fall down his cheeks as he read the letter another time. He let her words sink in his brain and heart, reassuring him yet again, that he could do the task that was set for him and that she, his wonderful wife, his marvellous Elle, would be with him, beside him, every step of the way. Sighing, Harry folded the letter and put it on his nightstand. A hot shower was in need. 

    He was mid shower when he heard the bathroom door open. Harry didn’t turn his back for he knew who was it. Soon, a chilly air invaded the box and a pair of arm encircled his waist. He felt Elle’s breathe on his back, her lips gently kissing his warm skin.

“ Arthur is asleep.”, she said in between pecks. He placed his hands over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before turning his body to face her. Looking deeply into her eyes, Harry cupped her cheek and lowered his head, molding his lips against hers. They pulled each other closer, basking in the passion of the moment, as the hot water fell on their bodies. Kissing turned into touching, pressing and gasping and soon, Elle had her back against the tiles, moaning. Their love making became more and more intense, the shower long forgotten. Panting, the entangled their bodies and leaned their foreheads together, faintly smiling. 

" It's been a while since we've done that, hasn't it?", said Harry, giving her his signature smirk.

" In the shower? Most definitely.", she replied chuckling. Pecking his lips, she reached for the towel and draped around her body before exiting the bathroom. Harry remained there for a few more minutes then joined an already dressed Elle in bed. He got under the covers and pulled her against him, nesting her in his arms. Gently, he began running his fingers through her hair, which earned him soft moans of content from her. In a matter of minutes, Elle was fast asleep. Harry smiled at the sight before him and placed a peck on her temple before closing his own eyes and drifting off into sleep.

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

    As Christmas week came, Harry, Elle, Arthur, Lancelot, and their RPO's made their way to Woodenford Castle. Passing through the snowy fields of Wiltshire, they drove during late morning arriving at the familiar majestic site of the 13th century stone castle on early afternoon, just in time for a healthy lunch provided by Ms. Martin, the fabulous chef. As soon as they were past the gates, Elle could see her family eagerly waiting at the front door. Once the car was pulled into a stop, they jumped out of the Range Rover, took Lancelot out and pulled Arthur from his car seat, who greeted his parents with a bubbly smile. The family was soon engulfed in warm hugs and kisses on the cheek offered by Victoria, Rupert and Edward, who soon whisked his nephew away, whispering promises of fun and mischief in his ear, while Logan helped with their luggage.

" I'm so glad you're here!", said Victoria, still holding Elle's shoulders. 

"We are very glad to be here.", said Elle. " Specially since it's Arthur's first Christmas. And nothing can compare to our Christmas tree...", she continued as they stepped inside. Warmth and the smell of pine and spices filled her senses, making her instantly more relaxed and happy. As they too off their coats and headed to the Drawing Room, she held her breath in excitement. And she wasn't disappointed. The 25ft Norway spruce was up, its ornaments glistening under the lights.

" Oh wow...", said Elle in wonder.

" We haven't finished decorating it yet. We know how much you love doing it.", said her father smiling. She smiled back at him and nodded her head with enthusiasm. She walked over to the with Arthur in her arms and browsed over the many different ornaments, their shapes and colours twinkling in the light, catching the infant's eyes and sparkling his curiosity. The family around them smiled lovingly at the scene and Harry even snapped a few pictures of mother and son, who seemed to be immersed in their own little bubble of Christmas cheer. They all joined in to decorated the tree. Little by little, the magnificent decor was complete. Harry snuck behind Elle and warped his arms around her, pulling her and Arthur close to him. 

" Now this... is what I call a proper Christmas tree.", he said in her ear.

" Couldn't agree more.", she replied, turning her head to the side and pecking his lips. They smiled to each other then looked down at Arthur who was looking amazed at every little thing around him. Elle kissed his chubby cheeks and Harry tickled his belly, earning them both a giggle from the toddler. His smile, a toothy one now, lit up the room. It was contagious and made everyone else smile too.

    For the next few days, Elle and Harry took the time away from the city to decompress and have a few dates, just the two of them. Since the snow wasn't deep and they decided to take the horses for a small walk near the river. Bundled up in puffer jackets and very warm mittens and caps, they walked over to the stables, greeting the familiar faces they saw on their way.

" Ahh Lionheart.", said Elle stepping close to her horse's stall. He neighed and threw his mane around, reaching for her hand. She chuckled and caressed his nose. "I've missed you too, buddy.", she said to him. Harry was given Percival to ride, just like on the first time he had been to Woodenford, all those years ago when they reconnected. 

    They saddled up their horses and slowly trotted side by side, the chilly breeze cutting through their skin, making theirs cheeks red. "Race you to the river.",  he said to her and galloped past her. Elle chuckled, remembering how she was the one to do the same last time they did that. She soon caught up with him and they laughed to each other as they reached the riverbank together. 

" Even with a head start, you can't seem to beat me, Major.", she said, winking and grinning at him. 

" What can I say, you've always been better at it than me...", he replied. Harry then got off his horse, tying him to a nearby tree. He then helped Elle out of her horse and did the same. Elle then picked up the the small basket with water and sandwiches she had brought and hand in hand, they walked to a stone bench that overlooked the river. Sipping on their bottles and nibbling on their snacks, they quietly observed the flow of the water and the breeze on the pine trees, listening to the sounds of the nature around them. Snuggling up to him, Elle sighed happily. 

" Feels so good to be here, in the peace and quiet after the months we've had, doesn't it?", she said.

" It really does.", replied Harry. " Sometimes I can't believe all that has happened to us...", he continued, holding her close, playing with her wedding ring. 

" I know, darling. It's been a crazy couple of year, filled with good and bad things, and we've faced them all together.", said Elle, looking up at him. 

" I have no idea what I'd have done without you by my side, Elle.", he said cupping her cheek. "You bring out the best in me. You're my saving grace and shining light at the end of a dark and rocky road.", he finished. 

" Oh Harry...", she whispered, smiling gently at him, teary eyed after his declaration. Leaning in, she pulled him closer and brought his lips towards hers. They kissed slowly, savouring the moment, but eagerness and passion flowed through their mouths and soon they were feeling much hotter than before. Once they finally pulled away from each other in need of breath, they rested their foreheads together, breathing in and out, eyes closed, feeling the heat coming from one another's bodies. 

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

    On Christmas Eve, the family gathered in the Great Hall of the castle for the Foundation brunch. A tradition that her parents had started as a way of thanking the staff and key members of the community who are a part of the Duke and Duchess' foundation. Cassandra was there and was delighted into meeting the new addition to the family. As were a few other staff members, coordinators and representatives of the small associations connected to the Foundation. Harry was soon whisked away by some veterans that he had met before while Elle was engrossed in talking to new mothers and their children about the literacy projects she had been developing and the work that had been done in the county. At dusk, they took part in a soup kitchen, delivering food and blankets to the homeless and less fortunate of Salisbury.

" I think that doing this, helping other people, really shows what Christmas is all about.", commented Elle as they gave out blankets to the people. Harry smiled at her and placed a kiss on her temple. 

    When finally came time for dinner, they returned to the castle for the much anticipated festivities. Dressed in a burgundy red dress and black pumps Elle patiently fed Arthur while Harry took shower. With only a towel around his waist, he come out of the shower and gave her a peck on the lips, walking towards the closet to get dressed. Smirking, Elle bit her lips and settled Arthur on his Moses basket. She tiptoed to the closet, finding her husband wearing only his underwear. Sneakily encircled her arms around his waist, running her hands up and down his torso, leaving a trail of kisses along his back and neck. Harry groaned and she smirked to herself, nibbling his earlobe. 

" Someone's in a mood...", he said huskily. 

" Oh darling... you have no idea what awaits you later tonight...", she whispered back, before leaving him alone in the closet.

" Looking forward to it... you tease!", he said, catching sight of her wink and smirk towards him just as she exited the room. Shaking his head, Harry dressed quietly, feeling a little discomfort on his trousers. That little temptress..., he thought. He heard her talking to Arthur and soon he was all alone in their room, which gave him plenty of time to get her gift from his suitcase. Smiling to himself as he looked at it, he pocked it and left the room as well, rushing down the stairs to meet the rest of the family. 

    The McClaire family was gathered in the Hall, the Christmas tree sparkling bright and under it, a selection of different sized boxes, mostly filled with toys and clothes for Arthur no doubt. The table was set with candlelight and ornaments along its length; a selection of roasts and mashes filled them all and warmed their bodies. At the stroke of midnight, the clinked their glasses in cheerful and joyful harmony, wishing each other a very happy Christmas. Once dinner was over, they pulled crackers and in a selections of colourful paper crowns, gave each other their gifts. As predicted, Arthur was spoiled to bits by their grandparents and uncle. Her parents exchanged comical gifts such as a new pair of glasses for her father and a new crocheting kit for her mother. Her brother gave everyone gift cards to Waterstones, which pleased most of them. Elle and Harry gave them framed pictures of Arthur with each family member, which brought her mother to tears. Finally, it was their time to exchange gifts. 

" Mine is a little bit late, but with everything that has been going on, I thought it was actually fitting to give it to you now.", said Harry handing Elle a small, squared package. She tore the paper and inside she found the familiar red box with the logo of the House of Garrard in golden letters. She carefully opened it, finding an eternity band ring, surrounded by tiny diamonds. Picking it up, she noticed that on the inside that was something engraved: Little Bear it read and she looked up at her husband with misty eyes.

" I wanted to give you that for a long time but...", said Harry. Elle smiled and shook her head.  "No, no... it's perfect timing... oh Harry... it's beautiful. Thank you.", she said, pecking his lips. She then reached to her side to give him his present. Similar to her own, it was wrapped in a square brown paper. He, like her, tore it to pieced and found a small circular container. 

Opening the lid, he chuckled and looked at her. Elle smiled and waited for his reaction. He took the silver and leather bracelet from it and payed closer attention to the marks on it: 

51°31'02.0"N  0°10'23.0"W, 19.04.17. Harry instantly knew what it meant. 

" It seems I'm gonna start a collection with these ones...", he joked, pointing out to the bracelet. Elle chuckled and smiled. 

" Well... it's only fitting since you have one for every part place in our shared history.", said Elle. 

" I love it. Thank you, my love.", he said, kissing her cheek. 

        That night, once everyone was asleep and Arthur was properly placed on her old bedroom which had been converted into a nursery, Elle kept her promise to Harry. She teased him, and toyed with him until he had enough of it and pushed her against the wall, on the bed, in the shower, and on the floor. They released all their bottled up tension making passionate love to each other again and again.

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

        On the very early ours of Boxing Day, they made the four-hour journey from Salisbury to Sandringham. With a sleepy Arthur in the back and Ingrid beside him, they drove to the familiar red bricked estate. 

" Are you ready to see them?", asked Elle.

" I am. Do I still feel hurt? Yes. Am I going to wallow in it? No. I think I should, no, need to move forward. For my own sake.", replied Harry. Nodding her head, Elle smiled and took her hand in hers, joining their fingers. 

" It will be great. And we'll start mending bridges by greeting them properly, alright?", said Elle, and Harry nodded his head in agreement. They parked outside and were greeted by William, Catherine and a very sleepy looking George. Taking a step forward, Harry smiled gently and embraced his brother.

" Hi Will. Happy Christmas.", he said. William, who was a little shocked, embraced his brother back and smiled widely at him.

" Happy Christmas, Harry.", he replied then hugged Elle as well. 

" Hello all. Merry Christmas!", said Kate, hugging them. " Had a pleasant trip?", she asked.

" It was pleasant enough. Not much traffic at this hour.", replied Harry.

" How was Christmas at Woodenford? I don't think I've been there since we were teenagers.", said William.

" Oh it was great. You know hoe my mother is with decorations... Arthur was delighted to see everything.", said Elle smiling at her brother-in-law. 

" I wonder where Elle gets the crazy Christmas fever from...", said Harry and the adults chuckled. The light atmosphere was enough to settle the animosities and bring back, a little of he camaraderie and love that was severed between the brothers. The sleeping toddler on her arms twitched a bit and they rushed inside, to warm themselves up. Once there, they were greeted by the rest of the family who were about to get breakfast. Charles and Camilla were among the first ones to greet them. Cautiously, Charles approached Harry.

" Son... Merry Christmas.", said Charles, smiling faintly. Harry smiled back and took a step forward to hug his father. Elle could see that Charles was visibly relieved to be hugged by his younger son. 

" We're delighted that you've come here.", said Camilla, greeting them with hugs and kisses. " Would you like to have breakfast with us?", she asked. Famished as they were, they joined in and Arthur was soon whisked away from Elle's arms and passed along cousins and doting family members.

" Oh he's so big!", commented Anne smiling. 

" He's gonna be a tall lad!", said Edward. 

" I reckon he's gonna go into the family tradition and join the military.", said Andrew.

" Now now, he's not even a year old. Let the poor baby be.", said Bea.

    The banter and conversation flew joyously and Elle took the time to look around the room. Elizabeth and Philip were still absent but, considering the time, she thought they would both be changing for church. Soon enough, they appeared on the doorstep and smiled at the sight of the new arrivals.

" About time you got here, boy. Lost your way, ye?", joked Philip. 

" Let us see the baby...", said Elizabeth, taking Arthur into her arms. The baby cooed and smiled at his great grandmother. "Oh he's just as adorable as I remembered.", she said., making his parents beam with pride. " Oh, that reminds me... I have something for him. Come with me you two.", she said pointing to Harry and Elle. Following her into the living room where the Christmas tree was, she handed them a rectangular box. Opening it, they found a glass bobble with Arthur's name in it, surrounded by glittering green specks. 

" Now he has one too.", said the monarch. " We've hanged yours now you can put his next to them.", she continued. Smiling to the older woman, Elle took the ornament and looked around the tree to find hers and Harry's names, placing his it just under theirs.

" Now the tree is complete.", said Elizabeth.

" Indeed, it is. Family should stick together... and I'm happier than I can possibly say to have you here, my dears.", she continued looking at the small family in front of her.

[silyabeeodess]

Thoughts on “The Promised Neverland” Season One

So... Yesterday, I binge-watched The Promised Neverland.

It’s amazing.

I’ll write down individual points I liked and disliked about the series below the cut, as there will be some spoilers; however for those who haven’t seen the show yet and don’t want to have anything ruined for them, I’ll just say here that I highly recommend it.  I’m not a big fan of the horror genre due to certain issues with story that tend to be commonplace in it--specifically in film/tv--but this series is near perfection.  You’ll be left on the edge of your seat at all times, placed in the constant unease and unknown that the main characters feel as they try to survive their situation.  In the very least, give episode one a watch: Fair warning though that you might not be able to stop.  

Jumping right off of that last note, let’s get to pacing. In short, it’s great!  In many cases with an anime’s first season, especially when they’re based on an ongoing manga series as intense as this one, they can fall into a trap where it seems that the creators just want to be sure to give the show a satisfying conclusion in the limited number of episodes they’re given at the start.  As a result, you can have a great manga series that gets rushed through in its anime adaptations.  Instead of pushing through a whole manga and/or giving the show original plot points to patch over the holes the former hasn’t touched yet, Season One of The Promised Neverland focuses on a selection of chapters in which to tell its story. I don’t know enough about the show behind the scenes to know if they’d already been given a second season, but either way, this was a wise choice.  Even though the season does end on a--in one sense, literal--cliffhanger, the conclusion is satisfying enough that it could’ve ended there if the anime didn’t gain enough popularity to keep going or couldn’t be finished for some other reason.  More importantly though, there isn’t anything regarding story or characters forcibly cut to makeup for adding in points that are important to the greater story overall.  Effectively, Season One was able to take its time introducing/developing the characters and setting in a self-contained story.  There are some time-skips, as the events occur over the course of a few months, but this never affects the greater points concerning the characters actions/end goals.  It’s only an issue regarding physical growth as the children work to build up their strengths in secret--and you see plenty enough on-screen action taking place over the course of the season to make this growth overtime apparent.   

This is largely a nitpick, so I figured I’d put it here even though it’s kind of out of place.  (Honestly, I wouldn’t know where to place it on the list beyond this anyway.)  There’s a point brought up in the show that you think would be a little more important to the story, where the kids bring up that winter is also on its way so they’ve got triple the urgency to leave while they have the chance. (Not only would they have to deal with the cold, but also a lack of food to forage as they survived on their own.)  However, you don’t see the weather change in the story despite time’s passing, so you don’t see the problem either with why they need to go before winter beyond Ray’s birthday in January.  Everything pretty much always stays green, which is weird because you know the place can get snow as seen from Norman’s flashback to when he was sick as a little kid.  It just seems like a silly point to bring up since it’s only mentioned once and even the setting fails to depict it.

For the characters, I’ll split this into a few points.  One thing that I enjoy is that no one character is painted as being solely in the right.  You can argue that Emma is the main protagonist we’re meant to follow, and I’d agree there, but we’re not meant to take everything she says or does as gospel as some shows like to depict their heroes/heroines. It’s stated early on and repeated at points later in the show that her idealism and naivety, while good, can also lead to tragic results if she allows them to get in the way of rational thinking. This creates a nice balance between the other two main protagonists, Norman and Ray.  Ray is pretty much the opposite of Emma, thinking of their situation from a “survival of the fittest” mindset and willing to go to whatever extreme to save his friends and secondarily himself: He’s critical and always willing to consider the worst, capable of tackling some of their hardest challenges as a result, with the others able to reign him back and show him what things he’s allowed to have hope in despite how impossible things may seem, never allowing him to give up even when that may be the only “rational” option. Norman can admire these strong aspects of both Ray and Emma, understanding Ray’s rationale while also working to meet Emma’s ideals, with both catering to his planning.  He can, however, also take too much onto himself--to the point of leaving others in the dark to some of his plans and martyrdom.  Granted, much of his use of controlling knowledge in this way is effective, but he can also assume what’s best without really consulting anyone else.  He assumes what he thinks others can or can’t handle, not entirely accepting their input and adding more onto himself than necessary. This is what makes decisions like Emma’s choice to tell more of the other kids the truth so important whereas Norman can keep even Emma in the dark, as much as he likes her, about some of the issues that arise with Ray following his reveal as the “traitor.”  They make for a very dynamic and engaging trio to follow.  

Even the antagonists, who both the heroes and the audience is made to fear, are given this treatment.  We all know about how a lot of stories try to make their villains “sympathetic,” for better or worse, and The Promised Neverland certainly does that--just never to the point where you’re willing to dismiss their actions.  Mama Isabella and Sister Krone can be as monstrous as the demons over them, and the show depicts this from their condescending treatment toward the children, to their willingness to kill without remorse for the sake of their own lives and positions, to their chilling facial expressions.  We’re just also given a glimpse as to how such monsters can be created.  Their actions are neither justified or ignored, but rather grimly understood.  Mother’s Basement on YouTube covered this in more detail on Isabella in particular, so I’ll link his video here for those interested.

One thing I will say negatively regarding characters though is that I don’t really like how Sister Krone was utilized.  Beyond shuffling through each chapter’s synopsis after the point where the anime ends because I really wanted to know what was over the wall and couldn’t wait, I haven’t read the manga; however, from what I’ve seen, a lot of people seem to be in agreement that Krone wasn’t used properly. Just compared to the treatment the other characters received in the anime, I have to side with them.  Krone’s appearance in the opening immediately interested me, and her polar behavior in her introduction to that just as much.  From that point on though, she remains kind of static.  We see a lot of interactions with her and this old doll that could’ve added to her character, but the dialogue and body language taking place then really only focuses on how creepy she is.  And that pretty much sums up her entire character for the longest while: She’s creepy.  She incredibly open about her goal to become a Mama to the audience, so there’s not much mystery there.  The softer, friendly façade we see her wear in the opening is hidden in the bulk of the show--to the point that, when she engages with the kids in a friendly manner that would actually make them think she can be trusted, she’s only shown as a silhouette and so we can't see her face.  When we do see her try to pretend to be amicable and on the kid’s side, she’s either taking them down in a “game” of tag like a berserker or grinning like a titan from Shingeki no Kyojin.  We already know the main children aren’t going to trust her, but it just doesn’t make her believably deceptive regarding the others.  There’s even some weird moments where her actions seem contradictory, such as trying to turn Isabella in despite--at least as far as Krone believed at the time--getting moved to be a Mama at another plant.  I get that she didn’t like Isabella, but there was just no point to continue going after her or anything to indicate that Krone would after getting what she wanted by becoming a Mama herself.  Why would her hatred of Isabella outweigh her main objective?  The one time we see Krone really develop as a character, sadly, is when she dies and we’re given a true first glimpse at how young girls are selected to be Mamas and Sisters beyond a scar and retelling.  I would’ve liked to have seen more exploration into her mindset and character, even if it could only be done in subtle actions. 

It’s rare to have a horror story without death, so let’s talk about how The Promised Neverland uses it.   Well, anyone who simply wants to see a bloodbath will be incredibly disappointed, but I’m certainly not!  The setup, showing, and aftermath first death in the very first episode is all that’s needed to establish the overwhelming threat of the demons and immediate threat that is Isabella.  It was orchestrated in a way where that horror seeps in slowly, even without actually seeing a character die onscreen and instead just the body.  You immediately know something’s wrong when the camera focuses on Isabella leading Connie away in near-complete darkness, without bg music, as Connie innocently tries to talk to her and only receives a bare smile in return.  The presentation of the corpse wasn’t a gorefest, but instead Connie’s greyed face--drained of life and lying in an awkward pose--looks as if her body was left abandoned for some time. This was a great artistic direction, not only nodding to the use of the flowers protruding from the body, but also to the cold manner in which she was killed as “cattle.”  This isn’t a bloody, aggressive killing, nor is any real respect shown to her remains: She’s a number, thrown away by Isabella and left to wait until the demons ship her off in a tank.  Krone’s death was orchestrated in a similar but different way, with flashes of the kids--unware of what’s happening--eating dinner happily as she fights for her life against a demon that hardly even seems to register her lashing out and approaches her steadily.  Again, a character is killed in a methodical fashion, the same flower piercing her in the chest with a slow and almost delicate as it is precise movement.  The fear seems to stem less from threat of death itself and more in the manner in which they’re conducted, not just in the treatment of humans as food, but the detachment of their killers. 

Now to the animation.  Personally, I really like it.  I’m a big fan of all of the subtle movements and expressions that were given focus, from a shaky hand to the crinkle of an eye.  This attention to detail can make the viewer almost hyper aware of how the characters move and react to things, which is pivotal to this show in particular given how much the characters themselves need to read one another’s body language in order to figure out what they’re hiding from each other.  This is brought up too at different points, such as Norman telling Emma to keep smiling and act normal, later paying off when Isabella tries to interrogate her about not being her “happy self” in the hallway, and Sister Krone recognizing that the kids know about the tracking devices based on their lack of a response to her telling them about it despite their playing dumb.  These explanations serve just as much as a way to tell the audience to pay attention.  

People sometimes bring up the CGI as a bad thing, but I actually like it.  Yes, it’s a little weird to look at, but I think it’s so off-putting that it actually adds tension to the scenes, especially during key moments when the characters are just walking through the House and the camera focuses on them doing simple actions like opening a door: The environment is supposed to feel uncomfortable.  You don’t know who’s around the corner listening in to your conversations.  You don’t know who’s going to come into the room while you’re in the middle of planning or hiding an important tool for your escape.  The House isn’t safe: If the whole area is a farm, the House itself is a cattle pen.  Everything just looks normal.  Therefore, using CGI as a technique serves as a good way to cater to those unnerved, off feelings than changing that environment itself would have.  It feeds into the perspective of the main characters, how they know how wrong everything is despite the illusion of a comfortable home. 

Last, but not least, we get to my absolute favorite thing about the show: The camera. I absolutely love the shots taken in this series.  My favorite thing is how often the camera will show characters with some kind of frame, be it the leaves of a bush or around the edge of a doorway.  This use of framing places the audience in the perspective of a spy, someone lurking behind the next corner and listening in on the kids’ plans of escape. It makes you feel like, at any minute, they could get caught during what is otherwise a still moment of dialogue.  Then, when they do actually get caught, it’s when the camera tends to be the most normal, catching you off-guard.  It’s just beautifully done.  

[queerchoicesblog]

Heaven Is A Place On Heart (THOBM, Eleanor x MC)

For the most romantic entry of the @choices-december-challenge hosted by my good friends @kinda-iconic I choose to put together two of my favorite things: a) THOBM and the adorable Eleanor Waverley x MC romance (still bitter about how underrated this book is) b) as cheesy as it can be, “Heaven is a Place on Heart” by Belinda Carlisle which is basically a personal romantic anthem after Black Mirror’s episode San Junipero. In the following fic you’ll find out how these two favorites of mine merge together. Hope you enjoy it (and sorry for typos/mistakes: I’m writing my master’s dissertation and I’m brain fried xD)!

Prompt: ‘I Love You’

Word Count: 1103

Tag: @helentwombly

_____________________

It was almost Christmas and the girls needed decorations for their new apartment. Elizabeth was adamant about that. Even though they would spend the festivities away, at Elizabeth’s parents’ place (and God only knew how that troubled the poor girl: could it really be Christmas without Jonathan? All the same, she didn’t have the heart to tell their parents that she wouldn't come home on such a merry yet sad moment of the year), the apartment they rented in the outskirt of Hartfeld needed decors. They both knew it was gonna be a blue Christmas: Jonathan’s death anniversary was just round the corner and Eleanor’s siblings were gone.

“That’s one more reason why we need to do that: for them, for our departed. I feel they’d want us to be merry…somehow” Elizabeth said one day as they were snuggled up on the couch.

“And it’s your first Christmas in this crazy modern world: I think this alone calls for s celebration” she added, kissing the top of Eleanor’s head.

So they agreed to go to Northbridge and do some Christmas shopping at the weekend.

On a chilly Saturday morning, they headed to Victor’s to collect his car keys: their friend enthusiastically encouraged the project and agreed to borrow his car after they solemnly promised to host a house party before leaving. 

As she was driving, Elizabeth put on some Christmas tunes on the radio and hummed Jingle Bell Rock. It was her favorite festive song: Jonathan always messed with her about that. Whenever he caught her happily humming that song, he made a show of rolling his eyes and groaned: “Oh no, not that again!”. Generally, what followed was a pillow fight…and a scold from mom for “running around like little savages and do you know how did it take to decorate the tree? Or to mop the floor? You two give me those pillows already!”.

Elizabeth smiled grimly to herself, reminiscing the past. Then she turned to Eleanor to say something and she realized that the girl had been awfully quiet so far. She was gazing off into the distance, mindlessly looking at the snowy landscape surrounding the highroad. She was sitting right beside her, but - Elizabeth could tell- she was far away.

“Earth to Eleanor” Elizabeth said in the most cheerful tone she could manage to hide her worries. Eleanor blinked and turned to her. She smiled apologetically. “Forgive me, sweetheart, I must have spaced out” Elizabeth quickly squeezed her hand. “No worries, El! You looked troubled though…what’s on your mind? If I’m not nosy” Eleanor laughed tenderly. “You’re not nosy! It’s sweet of you to worry about me when you see me spacing out. You always do and I can’t be grateful enough” “So no bad thoughts…?” Elizabeth asked tentatively. “On the contrary! Even if you might disagree” “What do you mean?” Elizabeth furrowed her brows. Eleanor inhaled deeply. “I was thinking about all the time I spent wondering what death, you know passing, going to what next feels like” "No bad thoughts at all, huh?” Elizabeth remarked. “Oh sweetheart, let me finish” - Eleanor laughed, stroking her girl’s cheek - “I was just wondering how it must be. Not in a gloomy…well, okay, not too gloomy way. You’ve been to Braidwood Manor, you saw what kind of atmosphere lingered there. You got a glimpse of it at least. Anyway, I was just fantasizing. I spent so much time in my head back then. I had a lot of time, after all…” Eleanor sighed, as memories of those days came back to her. 

Then she turned to Elizabeth smiling, no sadness in her eyes. “But I was wrong. Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” Elisabeth threw her a playful look. 

“Sure! Enlighten me with some ghost lore, babe!”

Eleanor’s cheeks reddened, as she said:

“I’ve found out that Heaven is a place on Earth"  her voice triumphant and tender. "Like the song you love?” Elizabeth giggled. “Exactly! Here, now you can live lives that we only dreamed back then: you can wear these super gorgeous and comfortable clothes, eat food from all over the world everywhere, you have planes! You can literally cover distances that were unimaginable a century ago in like a bunch of hours? And women can vote and study: I never thought I’d ever get to enroll to an actual university and here I am!” Eleanor beamed. “Not to mention that, even though I get there are still some issues about sapphism and homosexuality in general, women can woo each other and even get married! I always thought that was impossible…can’t you see how lucky you are?” “Oh babe, you’re adorable! Remind me to call you when my millennial pessimism threats to take over me” Elizabeth I commented, smiling softly. Eleanor paused, before adding. “Do you want to know why I love that song so much?” “Oh yes, please! Uncover that secret for me” Elizabeth answered, winking. Eleanor started singing. “When I feel alone I reach for you and you bring me home When I’m lost at sea I hear your voice and it carries me” She paused and took Elizabeth’s free hand into hers. “In this world we’re just beginnin’ To understand the miracle of livin’ Baby, I was afraid before But I’m not afraid anymore” A lump formed in Elizabeth’s throat as those verses echoed in her mind: she understood what Eleanor was trying to tell her. That was their story. Two troubled souls too scared to face the present and trapped in a cage of nightmares and silence. Two girls overcome by a sense of guilt and grief that were slowly learning how to live again…together. Eleanor spoke again. “I always thought that Heaven was a place where you would finally be at peace. No more pain, no more tears, no more bad memories. A place where you belong. And yes, a place where love came first or so I hoped, at least” Eleanor reached to her girl and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Heaven is here, now with you, Elizabeth. And if you allow me…Heaven is you”. Elizabeth was speechless. She stopped the car at a crossroad, as she felt tears welling in her eyes. She turned to face her girlfriend who was looking at her with adoring eyes. 

All she managed to say before her voice cracked was “Eleanor, this is the sweetest thing someone ever-”. Eleanor smiled at her lovingly and cupped her face. Then she took a deep breath and never losing eye contact with Elizabeth, she whispered: 

“I love you, Heaven”.

[tattooednursewrites]

About Time

Masterlist

Summary:    You wake up in Dean's bed... naked. The last thing you remember is dying.

Dean Winchester/Reader

Word Count:   2533  

Warnings:   Language, mentions of death

A/N:   This was written for @diinofayce‘s 500 Follower Challenge. Thank you for letting participate, and many congratulations! 

Prompt: "Oh, please, point your gun at me if it helps you relax.”

This was a lot of fun to write. I'm happy I was able to finish it and get it posted before I start me work week tonight.

           Waking up was strange. It felt as though you were out of practice with it. Not to mention you couldn’t remember falling asleep. You rolled over, disoriented but not afraid. Yet. You were in a bed, the sheets soft against your bare skin… wait. No clothes? Hmm… okay. You cracked your eyes, looking around the dim room. You knew this room. You sat up quickly, bracing as the movement made your head spin. Fuck. You tried to remember how you got into Dean’s room… naked. Your last memories were of… shit. You died. How were you here? Last you remembered, you were in… what you assumed was heaven from the lack of suffering. Shifting toward the edge of the bed you wondered how long you had been gone and, of course, the more pressing question – how were you back? Why?

             Stumbling, you stood, your legs shaking. Looking yourself over, you paused. Your body looked different. No scars or tattoos. You looked for a handprint, remembering the one Dean had on his return from hell. There were none that you could see. Hmm. You looked over to Dean’s desk and saw what you were hoping for. Taking the thin marker, you drew a quick anti-possession mark on your arm. If nothing else, you needed to have some temporary protection. Just in case.

             That finished you set about looking for some clothes. There was a henley shirt draped over the back of the chair and you shrugged it on, relieved when it hit you mid-thigh. You smiled as the scent surrounded you. Dean. You felt yourself relax a bit, comforted that his smell still had that effect on you. Sighing, you started looking for bottoms. You knew your hips would make it impossible for you to wear his normal pants, but maybe he had something baggy with a drawstring? Searching his dresser, you grinned as you pulled a pair of cotton pajama pants that were thin with wear, from a drawer. Stepping into them, you gave a few small jumps and jiggles to get them over your hips, pleased when you managed to get them on. They were snug around your hips, of course, but comfortable otherwise. At least the length of the shirt would hide how they clung to your hips and ass.

              Dressed, but barefoot, you made your way out of Dean’s room. First, you headed to what had been your room, disappointed but unsurprised to find it empty, all of your things gone. The quiet of the room seemed to make the growling of your stomach even more exaggerated. Your lips quirked, and you decided your next stop should be the kitchen. You made your way there, listening for any indication that you weren’t alone. Hearing nothing, you returned your focus to the search for food.

              After raiding the kitchen, you settled at the table with a mixing bowl of cereal, a huge sandwich, some leftover pizza, and the biggest glass you could find filled with water. You ate quickly, not favoring one thing over another, until you were full and only scraps of your feast were left. You sat back, stretching as you groaned. So full. You stood and cleared the table, bringing everything to the kitchen before refilling your water. You leaned against the counter, listening. The bunker was still quiet. When you hadn’t seen or heard anyone, you had figured that the boys were out, but all of a sudden you were feeling very alone.

              “Hey Cas,” you spoke softly, hesitant to disturb the quiet. “I’m a bit confused as to what’s going on, and I could really use some company. Are you around?” You stood, waiting. After a few minutes without a response you return to the table. As your mind wandered, you remembered distracting the demon from Dean. Taunting it. You remembered the sharp pain of the knife… over and over. Dean’s screams and pleas. Sam exorcising the demon as Dean ran to you. Him asking why you had done something so stupid as he tried to hold pressure to the wounds that were bleeding the worst. Really, you hadn’t even had to think about it. You remembered the fear on his face as he held you, assuring you you’d be okay. You remembered the cold. And you remembered your confession. Telling Dean that you had fallen in love with him. Telling him to take care of himself. You had faded away before he had a chance to respond. At least you thought you had. You couldn’t remember a response.

             Realizing you were starting to feel stiff, and unsure of how long you had been lost in your thoughts, you stood. You stretched with a sigh, trying to decide if this body felt different than your old one. You assumed it had been burned when you died. Standard hunter’s funeral. Fucking creepy… it felt the same, but at the same time, not. The usual achiness wasn’t there. Your right knee didn’t twinge when you moved it. Not a complaint, certainly, but odd none the less. Looking around you decided to keep busy.

             Figuring the boys would be home sooner or later, you went around and gathered the supplies you’d need for the various tests. Salt, holy water, silver, borax… you looked at the collection, trying to think of anything else you might need when you heard the door. Shit. Here goes nothing.

           Dean was the first one to enter, starting down the stairs without noticing you. Sam was behind him, saying something about needing to find a book. Research. You smiled. Some things never changed. Dean froze at the bottom of the stairs, finally noticing you. Sam almost bumped into him, before following his gaze and seeing you and gawking.

            “Hello boys,” you said, the soft smile making the words sweeter than you intended.

             Dean didn’t hesitate, pulling his gun and aiming it at you as he slowly moved into the room. Sam followed suit, both of them stopping just a few steps from the stairs, leaving plenty of room between you.

            You looked between them, trying to keep the amused expression off your face. You met Dean’s gaze. “Oh, please, point your gun at me if it helps you relax,” you chuckled, tilting your head to study him. “I missed you,” you added, watching Dean blink at the feeling behind the simple statement. But fuck, you had missed him. Both of them. You glanced at Sam. “Hey Sammy. Have you gotten taller? I didn’t think it was possible. You seem taller.”

            “Who – what are you?!” Dean demanded, his aim unwavering despite the pain and confusion dancing across his face.

             “How long was I gone? You can’t truly have forgotten me, right? That might break my heart.” you replied, sighing when he just glared at you. So much for trying to lighten the mood. You were careful to hold your body still as you nodded to the table in front of you. “Do whatever test you want, Dean. It’s me.”

              “You died. I saw you die,” Dean forced out, the pain in his voice making your heart clench. “You died in my fucking arms! We…” he swallowed, his eyes closing. He took a breath and forced himself to meet your gaze again. “We sent you off, hunters funereal… burned you.”

              “He’s right,” Sam added, watching you take a breath, your eyes widening to keep the tears from falling. “There’s no way you came back from that.”

              You lifted the knife you had given Dean for his birthday the first year you joined them. “I gave you this, you know it’s silver,” you said, lifting it to your arm before using it to make a small cut, just under your drawn-on anti-possession mark. “See, red blood, no reaction to silver.” You picked up the holy water.

              “We have no clue if you replaced that,” Dean said, his voice rough, nodding at the container in your hand.

              “Then get some out of Baby’s trunk,” you shrugged, setting it back on the table. “Salt and borax, too. And anything else you want.”

              Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded and moved to the stairs.

              “If… even if you are you…” Dean hesitated. “How…”

              “I don’t know,” you said, meeting his eyes and feeling your tears finally start to overflow your eyes and run down your cheeks. You fought to keep your voice steady in spite of them. “I… I woke up here. In your room. Sorry to take your clothes without asking, I know it annoys you,” your lips quirked, remembering all the times you had ‘borrowed’ his clothes in the past. “I just needed something to wear,” you added as an afterthought.

              Dean’s lips twitched. “You mean to say you were in my bed, naked, without me? That’s just unfair,” he muttered before he seemed to realize what he said and clenched his jaw, scowling at you.

              “Unfair indeed,” you sighed your smile fading. “I remember dying. Being so cold. Then nothing… just comfort. I think I was in heaven… or at least not hell. I was… content. Mostly. I… I think I felt… something missing,” you shook your head, not wanting to admit too much. “Then I woke here. No handprint, I checked. But as you can see, all my tattoos and scars were gone. I don’t even know the date… how long I was gone. I tried calling Cas. He didn’t answer. Then I just waited. I don’t have a phone anymore. My room is empty…”

              “I had to box everything up,” Sam said, coming down the stairs with the supplies. You had been so focused on Dean you hadn’t noticed him entering. “Dean was… obsessing. I had to clean it out. Pissed him off, but it beat him spending hours in there staring at the walls.”

              “Hey!” Dean growled, shooting Sam a look.

              Sam shrugged. “What, it’s true.” He opened the salt. “Sorry about this,” he said, tossing some at you.

              You smiled at him. “Not a problem, Sammy,” you said, giving him a small smile that he returned. The borax was next, then the holy water. You raised your eyebrows. “Satisfied? Anything else? I told you. I’m me,” you insisted, wiping your face on the sleeve of your borrowed shirt.

              Sam started to move toward you, a huge smile on his face, before Dean spoke. “Wait.” When he saw that Sam had stopped, he looked at you. “What was the last thing you said to me… do you remember?”

            You gave him a sad smile. “How could I forget? I told you I was in love with you,” you answered, your voice thick. Dean’s eyes closed, a pained expression on his face. You took a breath and continued. “That I had been in love with you since you hit on me during our first hunt. Although, honestly, I think it was as soon as I met you. I told you I was sorry I was leaving you. And… I told you to take care of yourself for me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

              You glanced at Sam, whose eyes were wide as he looked between you and Dean, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find words. He turned to Dean. “You… you never told me that.”

              Dean lifted his chin slightly in confirmation, not taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, and how was I supposed to admit that I got the woman I… the woman who was in love with me killed, huh?”

              “Dean, it wasn’t your fault,” you said, your voice firm. Before you could continue, another voice spoke.

              “She’s right Dean,” Cas stated in his unfailingly factual way. “She chose to save you, she gave you no choice in the matter.”

              “Is that supposed to make it easier?��� Dean asked, shaking his head and glancing at Cas. “What’s going on here, Cas?”

              “No, it is simply true. And she has been returned to you. I… after everything, I wanted you to have happiness. It isn’t something that is easily done. Actually, it is forbidden. But for this case, I was able to… we shall just say that an exception was made. She was unsettled. She longed for you, even in heaven. And you… your sorrow could be felt by all. This exception, it will not happen again, but you have her back and there will be no repercussions or debt.”

              Dean looked at Cas dumbfounded. You looked between them, trying to sort the questions in your head, before being pulled into a bearhug by Sam. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized he had moved. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you. And Dean… well… I’m so happy that you’re back.”

              You hugged him back, tears – happy ones this time, running down your face and leaving a damp spot on his shirt. Then you heard Dean’s voice and froze.

              “Sam, that’s enough for now. Let me greet my girl. I’ve been waiting too long as it is. Way too fucking long.” Sam moved back chuckling, and you met Dean’s eyes. The emotion you saw there almost made your knees give out. Dean smiled at your expression. “Hey sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms around you so tightly that it felt as though your entire bodies were touching. He nuzzled your neck, just under your ear. “I missed you so fucking much. Don’t ever leave me again. Please. Promise me.”

              You swallowed your sob. “I… I promise,” you whimpered, taking a breath to try and steady your voice. “Never wanted to leave you, never will again. I fucking love you, Dean. So much. I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”

              Dean’s arms spasmed around you at your words, his face nestling into you further before you felt him pull back. He met your eyes and his were shining. His hands rested on your jaw, tilting your face up to him slightly. “That means I get you forever then,” he smiled, touching his nose to yours and murmuring against your lips. “I love you, too. Always have. Never want to be without you.”

              You felt your breath catch at his words, and then his lips were on yours. You had dreamed of kissing Dean so many times over the years. You always thought you had a pretty active imagination, but nothing prepared you for this. It was worlds better than anything you had imagined. You relaxed into him, kiss him back but letting him take the kiss wherever he wanted it to go, following his lead. You had no idea how much time had passed when he pulled back, his smile sweet as he looked into your eyes.

              “About damn time,” Sam said, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

              “I agree,” Cas replied. “And if you don’t need anything else…” Before anyone had a chance to respond he was gone.

              “Must say,” Dean said, his voice soft and his eyes not leaving yours. “They aren’t wrong. It’s about damn time.”

              “Yeah?” you breathed, smiling up at him as he gazed down at you.

              “Oh yeah,” he murmured, pulling you into another kiss.

              Hell yes. You couldn’t help but agree. It was about fucking time.

[aikainkauna]

Fanfic trope meme

Apologies to those of you who see this for a third time, as I’ve crossposted it to both LJ and Pillowfort. Feel free to comment over on there (or my other posts) if you like. And of course, feel free to grab this one and do it yourself, if you like.

***

Grabbed this meme from a couple of people on LJ. It's... well, apparently about fanfic tropes. Some of them more terrifying than others.

I have written:

-Hurt/comfort (Yeah, baby! Most of my fic is this.)

-Body swapping (Sort of? Souls slipping into each other's bodies for a bit? Jaffar feeling what Yassamin feels? Sex swap, I've definitely done.)

-Soulmate identifying marks (tattoo, red thread of fate, etc) (I have! The Throne of Solomon. And maybe The Past Forgotten counts, in its way. I may have written more, but I forget.)

-Snowed-in cabin/isolated together for extended period of time (The Jaffar/Pwinzezz Cavefic!)

-Found families (I guess the Samarkand gang counts for poor old Fadl? Even if Jaffar *is* his brother, so technically it is his family. But he does have his religious congregation and Zainab, and is... well, he always does seem to be seeking something, so he's the kind of guy to go for this trope.)

-Fairy tale/mythology AU (And not just when I am  writing in *actual* fairytale/mythology fandoms. Which I am doing most of the time, what with Thief of Bagdad being a 1001 Nights fanfic anyway. So I'm writing fanfic about a fanfic of some age-old RPF (fantasy AU!) about historical figures from the late 700s/early 800s...)

-Enemies  to friends to lovers (Yes, please! Aplenty. I'm surprised that  enemyslash/FoeYay/Hero(ine)/Villain(ess), whatever you want to call it,  isn't mentioned on this list.)

-Characters swap roles AU (Uh... I've written sexual switching in some isolated chapters? Like when Laura  briefly doms Torsten in The Fall of Angels, to help him get over some traumas?)

-Friends to lovers (With RPS, Veidtbone in particular, and Theta/Koschei. This also seems to happen whenever I write femslash.)

-Magical  connection (telepathy, etc) (Doctor/Master basically ruined me for all  my other ships what with their telepathic ability. So that now, it feels less interesting for me to write love/sex that *doesn't* have telepathy.)

-Fake dating/fake marriage accidentally turns into feelings (see next trope)

-Royals/political marriage turns into feelings (These last two are pretty much the same thing in ToB, as I've had Yassamin marry Jaffar a couple of times--like The Past Forgotten and The King's White Falcon, but without him laying a hand on her for up to a year, until she finally grows a brain and realises how loveworthy he is after all.)

-Seemingly unrequited pining (Emphasis on the "seemingly." Jaffar's unrequited   pining is painful enough in the movie, so there's no point in making him  suffer any more.)

-Accidentally fell in love with the mission target (Well, *kind of,* what with Torsten. Lars-Erik was definitely his mission target in the original film, and at the start of Because The World Belongs to the Devil, he made no bones about having wanted to kill Laura Erika [the teenage girl version of Lars-Erik in this AU, to those of you just joining in] when she was born.)

-They break up (but then they get back together) (With Jaffar/Fadl.  Fadl's stormed off in a huff at least twice in the past. And Doctor/Master is always the same old on-off car crash, isn't it? Although this is not a favourite trope of mine, as the setup would usually necessitate them being an existing couple in the first place,  and I tend to not write canon or "plausibly lovers" ships because   they're already happily together. What do Two and Jamie, Holmes and   Watson etc. need me for? They're already as good as married. Let them have their happiness.)

-Supernatural creature/human romance (Sort of. I've written Time Lords/humans, humans/djinn at least. And surely wizards count as supernatural romance, anyway?)

-Reincarnation/'25  Lives' AU (What's with the 25 lives? Is this some big fandom thing again? One of the darkest, most fucked-up fics I ever wrote was the Master killing the Doctor during sex and fucking him as he regenerated around him. As you do. And there's reincarnation in one of my Jaffar/Pwinzezz fics,  but I won't spoil it for the new readers by telling you which one it is.)

-Selfcest (possibly due to time travel) (I am scratching my head trying to remember when I wrote this and in which fandom, but I have the distinct feeling I've written it. I've certainly whacked off to  that World Of Simm!Masters clusterfuck what with the pink dress so many  times I... I think I broke two clit buzzers during that time. I've certainly drawn it. And drawn some Connies on Connies. And then there's, of course, Sarosh the Sexbot  who's a clone of Jaffar, looks-wise, but he is very distinctly just a robot, not a living character as such--not the sort with which you could  have a real, interpersonal dynamic. My problem with selfcest, in general, is that I like having that character dynamic--and that requires  the characters to be different from one another. If it's two characters  that are too similar--if they fulfill a similar role in the canons--it's hard to create a dynamic between them and to make it   interesting.)

-Polyamory (Swinging away ALL the bloody time with the Roses!Jaffar and Yassamin, and Torsten/Laura. Sometimes I miss the monogamous 'verses.)

-Amnesia (I've got a post-movie "Jaffar comes  back from the dead" WIP I'll probs never finish, because it doesn't seem to get off the ground. If I wrote this trope, I would have the characters gradually regain memory, though; complete mind-wipes are   horrid. I did have Handy lose the majority of his cognitive/motor/Timey skills in No More  and that was the main reason I had to... well, I'm not going to spoil it if someone hasn't read it yet, but it wasn't the cheeriest of fics. The Past Forgotten *sort of* has this, but I don't want to spoil as to how that happens.)

***

I could write:

-Daemons (Why the archaic spelling? I have written djinn, so I almost put this in the 'have written' section. I can't remember if I actually *have* written real demons, because I might have. Surely, Torsten counts...)

-'Everyone is evil'/mirrorverse AU (Well, mostly, if I want to explore "evil"   characters, I write about those types of characters in the first place, without having to turn anyone evil. Devilry is the 'verse for that. Hell, usually it's the other way around; I try to look for the human elements of the baddies, or at least explore their logic--what makes them tick, what makes them the way they are. So, IDK, I could've also   put this in the "unlikely to ever write" section.)

-And they were roommates! (This would be terrible and also hilarious, whatever characters ended up becoming my victims. Even if I'm more interested in those hurt/comfort plots, overall. And I have always found it *impossible* to live under the same roof with other people because I need peace and quiet and solitude too much. So this is almost a bit too much like the sorts of negative RL experiences I don't really want to get more of in fic.  But I *could* write it as a comedy for cheap lols, especially if the stress were resolved by hot bonking, ASAP.)

-'They  all work in an office' AU (Otherwise, I would've put this in the "just  no" category, but... the Barmakids were civil servants. So I *could*   write Jaffar and Fadl drowning in paperwork--"WHY DID WE EVER introduce paper into THIS EMPIRE?!?" and cursing their fates and Jaffar restraining Fadl from braining Harun al-Rashid with a paperweight. Same with Lina doing Zainab's books and trying to hold back The Fist of Death when Fadl carelessly drops a piece of his lunch over her perfectly calligraphied accounting.)

-'Falling for a coworker/teammate is a bad idea' except this is fiction so it works out (Maybe. Just maybe. But it'd also be in a medieval ToB context.)

***  

I will probably never write:

-'Groundhog  Day'/karmic time loop (I just never got the appeal of this. Sounds like the sort of thing experimental writers would like? The sorts who really  like filling in bingo cards and challenge lists?)

-Vampires/werewolves  AU (I'm not that big on either. Super-unpopular opinion coming up: I prefer sex to the sublimation of it that vampires are often all about; bloodsucking in lieu of sex, and/or being seen as way better than sex just always feel to me like a cheap cop-out from writers who are disappointed in sex, or afraid of it. I've never grokked it any more   than that stupid, stupid "chocolate is better than sex" quip from women who don't know what masturbation is--yes, it fucking well is sex, TYVM! I much prefer to make partnered sex better than it is IRL by adding supernatural stuff like telepathy to *that*. Immortality alone is interesting to explore, as are Gothic themes, but all the usual themes that vampires *specifically* usually represent just... either hold little interest for me, or then, I can explore them in other ways.)

-'Pride  and Prejudice' AU (I don't hate Jane Austen, but it's not my fandom. That kind of society stuff and being witty over teacups in bonnets has never really been my thing--if anything, I usually have my characters exist in their own bubble, isolated from society and its restrictive mores and social stresses.)

***

JUST NO!

-Coffee  house AU/food service AU (AUGH! Please, no coffeeshop AUs for me; the world is full of them already. Maybe I could write it as some terrible, short parody? Or doodle it? But no more than that.)

-Hogwarts AU (Haven't read HP. Young Adult isn't really my genre. I know, I know; I've just lost all my WLW cred.)

-High  school/university AU (I've done Time Lord Academy-era stuff with Doctor/Master, but I expect this means a sort of American high school/university AU with jocks and cheerleaders and shit. Hell, no. Again, the exact sort of horrid society stuff I would rather have my characters escape from.)

-Adopting/raising a baby (Erm, not unless you count Jaffar/Yassamin adopting a cheetah? They do have kids in some 'verses but there's none of that everyday baby stuff that this question/trope probably implies. I'm squicked by   babies, sorry.)

-Unusually specific occupation AU, like, the Author clearly has the same job (It worries me that this is, by virtue of its inclusion here, apparently seen as normal and acceptable..? When it's crap fanfic, inserting yourself into something that should be about the *established* characters instead. Jesus, I don't want to go in expecting a fanfic, and then find out it’s your diary instead! Unless you're Anaïs Nin. And even if you really *do* want to write about yourself, then just... write original fic? An autobiography? A blog? Write an OC that has your job. Don't do this false advertising where you insist it's fanfic when it's not. That's a dick move towards your readers.)

-Loyalty kink (see next trope)

-Alpha/beta/omega (Too creepy. I can write about piss, shit, incest, necrophilia and cannibalism, but not these last two. Any more than I can glorify the Nazis I've written about; I either take the piss out of them, as with Strasser, or just step outside of their politics and bring them into the land of happy sexings like with von Kolb, with the aim of dragging him out of that madness and leaving it behind.)

-Hot single parent(s) (Please. Rundvik: "You love children." Torsten: "I loooooathe themm.")

-Unrequited pining (Too much of an emotional squick. Has to be requited. I write fanfic to fix things, to avenge wrongs, to set things right. I don't write them to make the characters more miserable than they already are. Unless it's for temporary, character-development purposes, that is.)

[fantasymouse]

Bubblegum ~imagine

BTS, Idol!AU Suga x reader

Warning(s): Angst, Slight cursing, Fluff

Summary: When Yoongi unfairly snaps at you for disturbing him while he’s working, how will he make it up to you?

Note: Not at ALL inspired from a certain commercial...   (0_0)

Wordcount: 2559

Dating an idol was tough... Dating Min Yoongi was even tougher. Put these two together and you are faced with possibly the hardest situation you will ever have to face. Don’t get me wrong, you love Yoongi more than anything but that doesn’t mean it isn’t challenging. Especially when he gets in one of his ‘moods’. This entails him sitting several DAYS in his studio, working himself to the bone, while ALSO forgetting to eat, drink and sleep, basically he completely forgets that his body actually needs sustenance of some kind, to function.

Of course to boot, he hates being interrupted, so if any person crazy enough to talk to him within this time period… They basically sign their own death warrant. One of the few perks of being his girlfriend however is that he can tolerate your presence (most of the time). This allows you to be, practically the only person allowed near him or even inside the studio while he works. As long as you follow his rules of not making noise or distracting him. Which granted, can be tough at times, it’s fine. Luckily you are the type of person who can enjoy the presence of someone, as much as a good conversation. Still as his girlfriend it’s also your job to make sure he takes care of himself and doesn’t die from exhaustion.

Currently you are situated on the couch, contemplating how the hell you are going to get him away from writing songs and eat with you. Heck, at this point he doesn’t even need to eat WITH you, all you want is for him to eat anything at ALL! He’s been sitting in the same position, hunched over his keyboard and monitors for almost 43 hours straight. You had checked up on him multiple times asking him to come out and eat with you, every time he answered either “right, I just need to finish this part then I’ll be there” and never coming or simply acknowledging you with an annoyed grunt, signaling that you shouldn’t disturb him at the moment.

You had actually started to feel anxious, if he didn’t start eating soon he’d be sick and even more delayed in producing music. Which you were well aware would bring absolute hell on earth. These periods usually rolled around their comeback time, of course they all become testy, antsy or otherwise easily irritated, but Yoongi was already a sleeping dragon without the extra pressure on his shoulders.

Yoongi didn’t say anything whenever you’d pop your head through the small gap in the door to check up on him, he’d try so hard to just keep his focus and keep working. He is well aware of the fact you only do this, because you honestly love and care about him and his pesky health. Deep down he appreciates the concern. Knowing that he has someone behind him, who supports him in whatever he does, it almost feels like a safety net and he is eternally grateful to you for providing that. But with all of his nerves being in tatters thanks to the comeback he’d started snapping more often, even at you on occasion and his irritation only grew when your ‘cute’ little check-ups, became even more frequent during the day, effectively distracting him and stopping him from working. Blinded by the need of perfection in his work, he started to find your constant remarks and reminders about him not taking care of his health to be extremely unnecessary, not to mention unhelpful. He knew what he was doing and he didn’t need you to tell him otherwise. Sometimes he even wondered if you understood that the reason he worked so hard as he did, is because of you. If he finishes as much work as possible, he’d have more free time to spend with you later on. Sure he’d never told you directly, but being a man who finds it hard to express his more complex emotions through meaningless words, Yoongi just always assumed that it was evident you are the reason for his hard work.

When you finally admitted that your approach of having ‘him to come to you’ CLEARLY didn’t work. You’d have to switch it up, think outside of the box. Thankfully you had a big win yesterday, when he’d taken about 15 minutes to go outside, buy some instant Ramen and eat that. Sadly your wish of him maybe taking a longer break and relaxing, while refueling with some actual healthy food didn’t come true, but you’d take what you could get at this point.

If he didn’t want to take a break longer than 5 minutes, he needed at least a little snack to chew on between the many hours of constant work… GUM!

The idea itself, felt like a light bulb turned on above your head. It was small, easy and wouldn’t take much time… Granted it wasn’t that much healthier or gave much of a sustenance to his diet but at least it was SOMETHING. After heading to your local grocery store and practically buying the entire aisle filled with mint bubblegum, you headed home.

But gum wouldn’t work alone, you also wanted to encourage him and make him relax somehow… Of course you’d taken a little bubblegum for yourself and as you sat comfortably on the black couch inside Yoongi’s studio, silently chewing and blowing bubbles, an idea popped into your mind. You took a piece of wrapped gum from the pack and carefully unpacked it. Once you did that you borrowed a pen from Yoongi’s table. He didn’t ask any questions to what you were doing, you are also pretty sure he hadn’t even noticed you before you took the pen from the blue cup filled with pens beside him. He quickly glanced at you, but didn’t bother to question you further and get pulled away from his work more than necessary. After sitting down you took the colorful wrapper and scribbled a little note in the middle of it. Slowly you rewrapped the gum and placed it silently on the table besides Yoongi. Without a word, you left the studio.

Surprisingly the trick seemed to work. You did want him to come out of there also, but this was good enough, after about 3 weeks you’d almost developed a routine. You would enter his office two times a day, in the morning and in the evening. You’d spend maybe 15-20 minutes in there doing nothing much, except watching Yoongi work and enjoying him being near you. Lastly just before you left, you’d place the wrapped gum besides him in the same spot. Sometimes you even switched it up just to keep it interesting. Maybe giving him strawberry gum today and a spearmint the next. Consistently, with each gum you had written a note to him:

‘Remember to stay hydrated’

‘What is Beethoven’s favorite fruit? Ba-na-na-naaaaa!’ 

(you may have been hanging out with Jin recently)

‘I love you’

Your notes varied from encouragement to small words of love and endearment to just straight cheesiness and because of Jin, even the occasional bad pun.  Also another thing you were strangely pleased about, was your ability to rewrap the gum packs. At first it had looked a little janky but thanks to much practice, you can now manage to make it look practically untouched.

(Always celebrate the small things in life, they are important too)

Yoongi honestly found this to be the most crazy and endearing thing he’d ever witnessed within his lifetime. At first he was slightly confused about what the heck you were up to, but after reading your cute notes it did lift his spirit (not that he’d ever admit to that). Still it managed to remind him of his love for you.

Even though this little gum trick worked for quite some time, when the comebacks finally rolled around, tension around the group was at an all time high. Everyone was stressed, rushed or strived for perfection, making them all extra touchy about how they performed or worked.

That day when you placed the small blue pack of gum, you also seemed to reach Yoongi’s boiling point and he finally snapped. Not with a quick and sharp remark to leave him alone or that he’d be out soon enough, but full blown yelling. Frustration so evident in the tremor of his voice it nearly shook the room itself. “GODDAMNIT! DO YOU EVER STOP?! I DON’T NEED THIS STUPID GUM OR YOU DISTURBING ME EVERY F*CKING SECOND OF THE DAY! I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF I’M NOT A CHILD - NOW GET THE F*CK OUT BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!”

To say you were startled would be an understatement. Yoongi rarely ever yelled around you and the only time it had EVER been directed towards you, was that one time when you had royally screwed up and dropped water over his computer, making it crash and delete everything he’d worked on through the previous 3 weeks. At that time you had taken his harsh words because you indeed deserved them and you definitely weren’t going to play innocent when it was something so important… But this time, he had absolutely no right to yell at you. All you wanted was for him to be healthy and alive, not to mention you practically only saw him those 2 times a day when you dropped in, to check if he was still conscious. You live together damn it! It should literally be impossible to see each other so little each day, still this hard-headed, stubborn idiot has the nerve to yell at you, when you’re doing everything in your power to support him and take care of him. With a dangerously cold and collected voice you stated “well if that’s how you feel, I’ll leave you alone” you turned sharply and headed to the front door. Furiously you pulled on your jacket and shoes. “Where are you going?” Yoongi asked after stopping in front of the main door. Accompanied with a ferocious glare, cold enough to send chills down his spine, you answered “I’m leaving. That’s what you wanted right? You’re not a child and I’m done taking care of you, only to be scolded as a thank you! Call me when you pull yourself together Yoongi” after stating this you walk around him and slam the door, the entire apartment rattling behind you. If he wants to be a stupid idiot AND lonely, then he can get what he wants.

It had been nearly a month since you’d last spoken with Yoongi, this however didn’t exactly have anything to do with your argument. You had meant to text him about meeting up and talking everything out, as you usually did whenever you fought. Sadly just to your luck, they were all pulled away for preparations for their upcoming tour. Of course you knew this was something you both could work out, some harsh words were said in the heat of the moment but you’re pretty sure neither one of you completely meant what you said, only fueled by anger and frustration. For the first three days you had stayed at a friends house, she managed to convince you to return home and mend things with Yoongi. Of course when you arrived, all there was left of him was a note hanging on the fridge about the tour preparations/interviews and the fact that he’d most likely be home in a month.

You couldn’t even reach him on his phone because he’d never answer it. You figured that much like you, he was embarrassed about how things played out and wanted to talk it out in person instead of miles away through a phone. It was slightly annoying but that is one of the reasons you love him so much. You’re relationship means more to him than a quick and meaningless phone call. Getting a call from him almost stopped your heart, it then proceeded to jump into your throat as you stared at the device ringing steadily on the flat surface of your couch like it was some sort of fire alarm. You didn’t answer it, not that you were angry or petty that he didn’t answer your own calls. Simply so baffled about the fact he had even called, that by the time you managed to pick up the phone he had ended the call. Not long after he texted;

- meet me in the park

Yoongi didn’t have to specify. It was the park were you first met, your first date, kiss and it was a location both of you had walked on, on many dark and cold nights. You rushed out of the house, barely getting your shoes on before you were halfway down the street and the vague thought of “I’m still in my pajamas” crossed your mind. Still your body seemed to act on it’s own and like no time had passed at all, you were standing in your light blue and white striped pajamas in the center of a very dark park. Every shaky breath you exhaled could be seen in the air in the form of puffy white smoke. Suddenly you heard a click and the entire park lit up.

Every note you’d ever written on those darn bubblegum wrappers, are sticked to fairy lights and lanterns that decorate every tree, lamppost and bench all around the park center. It looked like stars had been plucked from the sky and placed around you. Turning around with tears in your eyes, you are met with the one and only Min Yoongi. Standing almost right in front of you, with a sheepish half smile, half smirk.

“I’m sorry about what I said, you know I didn’t mean it. That still doesn’t excuse what I said or how I treated you but… After almost more than a month without you, I’ve realized just how lucky I am to have you in my life. It was literal hell to be all on my own. So please… Forgive me”

Without a second thought you clung to him like never before, Yoongi in turn wrapped his noticeably thinner arms around you. Holding you just as tight if not tighter, afraid that if he let go, he’d lose you once and for all. “I forgive and I love you, you moron… And you didn’t eat anything because you were worried, you’ve gotten so thin! You’re such an idiot… but at least you’re my idiot” your chastising remark causing Yoongi to laugh lightheartedly and mumble “sorry” in the crevice of your neck.

“This is beautiful by the way” you remarked once you let go of each other. Looking around the park you almost couldn’t believe he’d do something so dramatic, the only thing that surprised you more than the park, was what Yoongi said next “Yeah I know, I planned to do this when I proposed to you, but since I was so worried about you breaking up with me I wanted to impress you… Dammit now I have to find a way to out shine THIS!” You snapped your head back to Yoongi so fast you nearly got whiplash. He quickly realized his slip up and laughed awkwardly. 

“Ups… Busted? I really am an idiot. So ehmm… Do you want to marry me?”