#next time we return to the capital and possibly the moon

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.5

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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19th October

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Taehyung watched Jimin return to their hide-out with evident disappointment settled across his face. Another indicator being the deep sigh which followed right as he closed the door behind himself.

He perked a suspicious eyebrow at Jimin, exchanging a glance with Yoongi then who was sitting across from him and sharpening his sword. "What happened?"

Jimin plopped next to him, sulking deeply. "Guess Bella won't help us out."

"I'll pretend being shocked," Yoongi snickered under his breath, only earning an annoyed glance from the younger one before he fell back into sulking.

Taehyung only rolled his eyes out of Jimin's sight and cleared his throat then. Trying to set the right tone to cover the fact he wholeheartedly agreed with Yoongi's sarcastic stance.

Why would Arabella Valentine help them out if it didn't benefit her?

That wasn't her style.

"Did she say why?"

"Yeah.." Jimin shifted in his seat, running his fingers through his light brown hair, "She prefers going after a rich heir in Cyprus." Mild jealously flickered through his features and Taehyung could tell but chose not to mention.

"Seriously, why are you so whipped for this woman?" he eventually wondered out, "She's manipulative and you can't trust her. I don't get it."

"Plus, she's screwed us over countless times.." Yoongi added with a mumble. Both now looking at him expectedly.

Pursing his plum lips, the thief in question fumbled with his fingers for the right words. "Well, first of all sh-"

"Don't you dare say 'she's hot'," Taehyung quickly countered, shooting him a serious glare to which Jimin only chuckled bashfully.

"Well, she is, but that isn't the main reason.." 

The anew sigh leaving his lips filled with awe and admiration this time, gaze wandering out the window into the sunlit capital of Argentina. A dreamy look on his eyes with possible hearts if he was a cartoon character, Taehyung was sure.

"You guys wouldn't get it.. I like that she's so sneaky and always keeps me on my toes. She's dangerous and mesmerising. She's.. she's simply one of a kind," he eventually settled.

And perhaps they really didn't get it because all they were able to see in her was a competitor, another thief who might occasionally help them out. But only for a price - which was usually betraying them with all the loot.

"It's kinda cute though. He's the literal definition of fool in love," Yoongi plainly stated then, trying keeping a straight face although they could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. His tease pulling Jimin out of his little daydream.

"Anyway," the master thief said then, dismissing his older friend's comment, "That means we need someone else to get us in there."

"We don't know any other female professionals though."

"At least, not personally."

All three fell into deep thoughts.

This wasn't good. They needed a woman to pull off this coup. Only women were invited to the embassandor's gala as it was specifically to celebrate female achievements. It was their only chance to get in the embassy.

- Well, not the only one, but surely the easiest one. Two would sneak in as staff members and the third one had to be among the guests. To keep an eye on the embassandor and the ball hall while the other two were breaking into the office room. And to be one of the guests he'd need to be the cavalier of a lady.

"The party's in a week, we need to come up with something. We're running out of time."

"Why did you only ask her now, if we knew beforehand-"

"I was sure Bella would be in.."

The oldest one shrugged, putting his katana aside. "Maybe we should just cancel it and instead go for a different coup."

At this, Jimin shot Yoongi an irritated glare before laughing out. "You're giving up too easily! I'm sure we'll fi-" Pausing himself mid-sentence, he faced Taehyung then who gulped at the mischieviously wide grin on his lips. "Say, what about your doctor fri-"

Before he could even complete, Taehyung already cut him off with a harsh glare. "No, forget it."

Jimin whined. "Why?"

Dumbfounded at the new level of idiocy his best friend had reached, the gunman exhaled with a huff. "Are you seriously asking? She's a civilist. I'm not getting her involved in this and besides, I doubt she even got time."

"How do you know, you haven't asked her?"

"She's an assistant physician in her second year, she's just working non-stop."

"Then a reason more for her to get out of the daily grid!" Jimin exclaimed, thrilled about his brilliant idea, "And didn't you say she's always curious about our work and finds it exciting? Yes, just imagine how thankful she'd be!"

Taehyung, however, was less and less inclined to the nonsense idea of getting Cassandra involved in this. He always tried his best to keep their friendship seperated from the rest of his life - or at least as seperate as possible. And he grew frustrated with Jimin's irrational enthusiasm.

"You can't be serious, this is way too dangerous for an outsider. What if something goes wrong?"

"Taehyung's right," Yoongi, who had been silently listening to their argument, eventually intervened, "She's completely unexperienced. We can't effort it."

"Guys, you're such naysayers!" Jimin groaned then, throwing his hands dramatically in the air, "This coup we'll be like walking into a candyshop, nice and easy. She won't need to do anything but look pretty and mingle with the other guests. That's it. She won't be anywhere near the action where we -" His finger wiggled between himself and Yoongi. "- would be."

"Wait, you and Yoongi are breaking in?"

He smirked. "Of course, since she's your friend you're gonna be her escort."

Taehyung became pale, all colour drained from his face. He and Cassandra in fancy attire in the middle of a ballroom? The thought making him swallow with an irrational flush colourings his cheeks.

"I mean.. putting it like this.." Yoongi mused with a small smile, earning a side-eye from Taehyung.

"You're seriously changing your mind on me now?"

The swordsman shrugged, sliding his katana back into its shealth as he had finished the sharpening, being content with his work. "I didn't think about the fact that she'd indeed not be directly involved in the heist. Her only role would be to get the third one - you - inside. That's it."

"Unbelievable," Taehyung dragged out a breath, shaking his head. 

He didn't like admitting it, but they had a point. Still a pretty dumb point, in his opinion, but nevertheless, a point. If they wanted to go through with the plan, the young physician was their only option in the moment. At least until he could come up with a better one. And he would try his best to do so.

"You guys really mean it, huh?"

"Look, Tae, I get it," Jimin said then, grabbing his shoulder with a sympathetic smile, "It's not like I'm keen about getting an outsider involved either, but she's our only option right now. And I wouldn't suggest it if I believed she could get in actual danger. You know me, I'd never endanger anyone on purpose. Especially not a pretty woman."

Of course Taehyung knew that. He knew Jimin for half of his life by now, he knew he wasn't reckless or mindless towards others. Only towards himself. And his look of appeal made Taehyung eventually sigh in defeat, nodding.

"Maybe she won't agree anyway," Yoongi argued then with raised brows. Partially in an attempt to calm Taehyung's mind. "What then?"

But Taehyung could only laugh out dryly at this. Already knowing her answer.

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21st October

Barcelona, Spain

Cassandra's eyes widened while alternating between Jimin, Yoongi and Taehyung, the latter one standing in the background with crossed arms and an annoyed scowl.

"Me?" She pointed at herself, still processing and not believing their surreal proposal.

When she had left the hospital after an early shift, the only thing she'd expected to find at home was her left-over food and the rest of a tv show which had been left in the middle - wishing her hospital life would've been just half as entertaining as in the show.

She hadn't expected, however, to find Taehyung and his friends waiting for her in front of her entrance door.

Now thinking about it, considering they were thieves and could break into anything they wanted, it was quite nice of them respecting her enough not to break into her apartment and instead wait outside.

"Cassandra, Cas," Jimin sighed in pity ploy, engulfing her hands in both of his. Taehyung only rolling his eyes in the back at the sight of his friend working his usual charms. "We wouldn't ask you if we weren't desperate. I swear, we wouldn't let you get in any danger. You just need to enter from the main entrance, have a good time at the gala and then leave again from the main entrance. That's all."

She blinked again, feeling her heart-beat picking up in excitement.

Was she even allowed to get excited? Shouldn't she be panicked and call them crazy?

She should, but for some insane reason she wasn't. She was indeed considering this.

"Just for the record, I was against this idea," Taehyung barked in, "Seriously, feel free to say no."

"Don't influence her!" Jimin's head snapped back. Making Taehyung scoff and look away again.

Cassandra took a moment to think about it. Although she was certain her answer was already set, she still tried staying objective and weighing out all factors.

"If I do it.. you'll keep me safe, right?" She timidly peeked up, seeing a smile spreading on Jimin's features.

"Of course! Well, not me directly.." His head returning to Taehyung with a smirk, "But Taehyunghie will. Considering he's unrivaled with his gun and good in combat, you'll be in good hands."

She smiled, knowing all that very well.

Her brown irises wandering to her friend who was about to protest again, but instead folded his lips when meeting her warm stare.

He already knew her answer anyway. That was why he was so against it in the first place. She might've not been naive enough to mistake her films for reality, but the way Jimin set it, it sounded exciting and risk free. Besides, she was someone who always helped others and only a blind person wouldn't see how much in need they were of her right now. Jimin had practically thrown himself to her feet after all. 

So he sighed, giving her an affirming nod. "I'll protect you, Cas."

She smiled gently. "I know."

If she didn't trust Taehyung, she wouldn't have even considered it.

Content with his sincere answer, she faced Jimin again. "I'll do it."

"Great!" he cheered and jumped onto his feet, pulling her with him before engulfing her into a tight hug. Making Cassandra laugh out as she hugged him back startled.

They must've been indeed quite desperate, she concluded.

"Y-you said it's next friday though. And where?"

"In Budepast at the French embassy," Yoongi, who hadn't tried persuading nor hindering her from participating, but instead had stayed pretty neutral next to Taehyung, said.

He'd been taking a look around her apartment instead. Small eyes growing round when seeing the film posters Taehyung had mentioned to them.

"You can travel around Europe freely, right?"

She hummed in affirmation.

She had always wanted to see Budapest anyway so that wouldn't be an inconvenience. However, she recalled her schedule.

"I'll need to pull in some favours and switch shifts then.."

Taehyung instantly straightened at this. "If that'll be a problem, we're gonna look for someo-"

"No, no, I'll do it. Don't worry," she giggled, seeing him shut his mouth and going back to sulking.

In all honestly, she felt quite flattered by his concerns. But she trusted their word that it wouldn't get dangerous for her. 

And a fancy gala at an embassy? Who would say no to that? It'd be the first time she ever attended something like this. 

Her smile dropped at this realisation. Now, this was actually concerning.

"It's gonna be so fancy.. " she mumbled. Chewing on her lips.

She didn't have any fancy clothes. Of course not, why would she? She had a few good clothes for special occasions and celebrations, but in no way would they be enough for an embassador's gala. She'd need to buy something, but did she even have money for a suitable dress for such an event?

She started mildly hyperventilating.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. Just wear a nice dress. It doesn't have to be some expensive designer piece, no one will tell," Jimin ensured her, patting her shoulder with a cheerful smile, "It's not the Milan fashion show. The people at the gala won't be able to tell the difference."

"Okay," she nodded when another question popped up in her mind. "But how will I even be allowed to enter? I don't have an invitation after all.."

At this the three thieves only exchanged a glance before their lips tucked into cheeky grins.

"Please, that's a piece of cake. Don't let that trouble you." Jimin winked.

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26th October

Budapest, Hungary

It was 8 o'clock on the dot when Cassandra stepped out of the elevator that evening. It'd been awhile since she'd spent a night at a hotel and it felt odd.

The only good thing was that it was a rather small vintage one, meaning no cameras inside and not many guests as she made her way out of the old but well-preserved building. The reception at the foyer was currently empty, facilitating her departure. And she remembered to turn her face away from the camera at the entrace. Just like the guys' had instructed her. It was one out of only two, the other one being at the back entrance that led to the backyard.

Even if it wasn't their main intention to save her from embarrassment when choosing that hotel for her - the practical reasons being it not having much security and its suitable location - it saved her from nosey people wondering where she was heading to in such a fancy look. She had already felt insure enough, not being used to wearing anything but scrubs or normal clothes. She didn't need employees or guests' talking while walking around in a floor-long dress, heaving the fabric with her fists not to step onto it.

Cassandra knew there was no going back now that she had already exited the building. And she wondered if Taehyung would be there as settled.

The last contact had been back in Barcelona, when they'd given her location and pick-up time, keeping the risk of leaving traces as small as possible.

For all people knew, she was a mere tourist. Which she was, in a way. At least she'd passed the past two days by wandering around the city to all the touristy spots, making the most out of her trip there and acting unsuspicious.

Much to her relief she spotted Taehyung waiting at the end of the street. He was leaned against a black limousine with tinted windows, not having noticed her yet as he was too preoccupied with texting the others on a burner phone to see the startled expression on Cassandra's made-up eyes. 

His dark brown hair was combed back with the side parted, except for a rebellish curl that was falling on his forehead while he was hunching. The black tuxedo he wore perfectly underlining his tall and sturdy stature. Its suit jacket left unbuttoned and hanging losely over the black dress shirt he was wearing underneath it, adorned by an equally pitch-black neck tie.

Describing his appearance as 'handsome' felt like the understatement of the year. She needed a stronger word than that to express her exact thoughts in that moment. 

Of course she always thought of him as a good-looking guy with an enchanting smile, from the very first glance she'd laid on him. She wasn't blind after all. However, seeing him in such a fancy attire for the first time left her breathless. Just like that very night many years ago when their eyes had met for the first time. 

Usually she only saw him in casual fits. Loose shirts, wide trousers or big hoodies. Like a normal guy. However, she'd use anything but 'normal' for him right now.

Taehyung looked like straight out of a runway or no - a film! A spy movie!

Like a real-life James Bond.

And that realisation made a hot rush run through Cassandra's veins.

She inhaled sharply, about to move when his head perked up as if he had heard her screaming thoughts and their irises met. Both staring at each other, perplexed.

His lips parted, unintentionally allowing his eyes to wander over her dress all the way down and then up again.

Cassandra was standing there, a vision in dark vibrant green. Embroidered leaves and flowers covering her torso, flowing from her waist sporadically down the tulle fabric. Glistening faintly under the streetlamps, like an emerald. Contrasting her silky-shining coppery curls cascading over her shoulders.

First he hadn't been sure if it was really her or a mythological forest nymph, having lost her way to the magic world and instead found her way there to him.

But soon he realised that it was indeed Cassandra. And that he was holding his breath.

"Hey, cool guy," she eventually breathed out. Interrupting their little staring contest.

He swallowed, forcing his lips to move into a casual smile. "Hey, Doc."

With uncertain steps, she walked up to him and he pushed himself off the car. Holding the passenger door open for her.

"You.. you look.." He was flustered, to say the least. His mind on overdrive as he tried not to turn awkward, but he feared he was doing just that by stuttering and blushing. She looked even more stunning from up-close. Finally, he managed clearing his throat. "You might get a cold."

With a small laugh, she looked away and folded her arms in front of her décoleté. It was warm enough during the day, but now that the sun was setting, a coolish breeze was indeed picking up which the thin straps of her dress surely wouldn't shield her from. Especially not as her back was completely open, aside from the straps crossing and forming a bow on its lower half - which had taken her a solid ten minutes to tie on her own.

Taehyung catching that detail as well, looking away shyly. And Cassandra's insecurity only grew, misinterpreting his behaviour. 

She started seriously regretting all her choices in this moment. Back then she'd thought that if this was her only chance to wear a beautiful long dress, then so be it!.

- Why didn't she go for a simplier dress? Preferably in an ordinary colour like black or creme with long sleeves and maybe even a turtleneck, if dresses with turtlenecks even existed.

She feared making a fool of herself again.

"Uhm, no it's okay. I'll survive, don't worry. I didn't have anything suitable to wear on top and didn't want to show up in a random jacket.." she mumbled. About to enter the car when she felt something being slid over her shoulders, causing her to still. And she saw his suit jacket laying on them.

Her lips parted, her cheeks chrimson red by now. She held the collar together with one hand.

"Thank you," she quietly said, seeing him only offering her a quick nod before they bothed entered the parked limousine.

The French embassy was in the city centre, close to Danube's bank. An upmarket part with lots of cultural sights. Meaning the traffic would keep them from arriving there fast.

They remained silent for most of the drive, both unusually tense. Only stealing glances at the other when thinking they wouldn't notice.

"We can still turn back. I can return you to the hotel," Taehyung offered, glancing at her hopefully before redirecting his focus onto the road in front of them.

They were almost there, he could already spot the long line of expensive vehicles lining up to enter or depose guests.

"Again, don't feel obligated. You don't have to do this. I'll find another way to get in."

The young woman shook her head though, the grip she had onto his blazer to keep it from sliding off, tightening.

"No, I'm okay." And she was. Slightly nervous, yes, but also incredibly excited. "And besides, I got my lucky charm."

His brows knitted at her, seeing a toothy grin on her features and a small teddy bear dangling from her fingers next to it.

"Isn't it cute?"

He couldn't help but chuckle. Somehow he wasn't surprised she was  into superstition or at least lucky charms. And her beaming face was  adorable.

"Very cute actually."

"I know it's ridiculous," she sighed then with a coy smile as she looked down to the teddy bear in her folded hands, "And I don't really believe in superstition. But I figured, it wouldn't harm."

Shaking his head, he tugged at the golden necklace underneath his collar. "What do you think this is?"

Her eyes widened. "So it's also your lucky charm?"

He shrugged. "So far I always had luck, so it could be this. I always wear it after all." He tucked it back in as memories surged his mind. He tilted his head at her with a smirk then. "So it must bring me some luck. Don't you think?"

Cassandra smiled at him with a fond look, knowing how much it meant to him. And it was nice catching a new glimpse of his life from behind the curtains of his usual secrecy. She enjoyed collecting all those pieces of random information about him.

"By the way," she said then, stuffing the small stuffed animal back into her purse, "I got your postcard a few days ago. The one from New Delhi."

"Huh, you only got it now?" he huffed with a raised brow, "I was there a month ago."

"Well, it's quite far away, on the other side of the globe.. Was it fun there?"

"Curious as always.." He grinned, amusement in his eyes as he peeked at her. "But yeah, it was. Also far too warm though."

Cassandra giggled at his whining, remembering he didn't do well in temperatures over 25°C. Would explain why he was walking around with a thin coat in winter.

"Maybe next time don't do a heist in a hot subcontinent."

"It wasn't a heist," he plainly stated. Knowing far too well that would only intrigue her more. And indeed, she leaned over with curious eyes. Her eye make-up intenser now for the gala than her usual one, making her doe eyes appearing even bigger than usual. "No? What else did you do there?"

He simply shrugged with a cocky smirk, remaining quiet which he knew would drive her mad.

"Don't be so annonying," she groaned and puffed her cheeks in a childish manner, "You mentioned it, now you gotta tell me."

"Oh, do I?"

"Of course."

"Let's say we were on a little treasure hunt."

Her eyes grew even rounder. "Treasure hunt? Like Indiana Jones or something?"

"Or something."

And he bit back a laugh when hearing her scofd.

Taehyung entered an side-street behind the embassy then, deciding it'd be better to park there for an easier escape later.

He unbuckled his seatbelt then and got out. Walking around to help her out of the car by offering her his angled arm, which Cassandra gladly accepted by hooking hers around his elbow. Making their way towards the embassy.

Another uncommon thing for her, stilettos. She usually didn't wear anything that was higher than two centimetres and even then it was usually boots or sneakers. She just hoped her walk wasn't as wobbly as her legs felt in that moment.

It only now really downed to her that this was really happening and anxiety made a surprise appearance after all.

"Remember what I told you? About the cameras?"

She nodded at his question, recalling his and the guys' little prep talk. She'd taken notes. "One left at the gate, two left in the courtyard, one right at the entrance and one over the staircase. And another two in the ballroom, at the side of the stage."

His lips tucked into a lopsided smile. He was impressed. "Good girl."

The praise caused Cassandra's lips to press together, feeling her cheecks blushing along. She never knew words of affirmation could've such an affect on her. 

However, she also felt quite proud of herself. She'd done her best to memorise everything after all, not wanting to screw it up.

She had to turn her head away from them in case something went wrong and Jimin wasn't able to loop the security footage. It was a worst case scenario, but they had to be prepared for everything. And Taehyung surely didn't want risking her getting recognised on any footage.

Turning a corner, the embassy's aristocratic building came into full focus then. It was in a long row building which covered the whole block. Tall, rounded glass windows on the ground level, above them a terrace on the first level. The entrace was two tall rounded gates adorned with ornatements of metal. Between the two gates, a plaque that said 'Francia Köztársaság Nagykövetsége'.

- Overall, it looked indeed like a building where only the french would have their embassy in.

Taehyung pressed his in-ear monitor then to activate it. "Guys, we're about to enter."

"Cameras all set," Jimin answered from inside the building, "Have fun!" And Taehyung could hear the smirk in his friend's voice. Mumbling a quick 'thanks' before turning to Cassandra, catching her staring at the building with the line of well-dressed important people behind security guards.

Her steps slowed until she caused them both to stop, Taehyung giving her a questioning glance. "Just say the word and I'm driving you back," he whispered as he covered her hand that was wrapped around his arm. Giving her a soothing smile, only earning a wary one from her.

"I.. I just feel a little silly in this outfit, you know? I'm not used to anything but my normal clothes and.. I'm afraid I'm not fitting in. People might already be staring at me." She was looking around as paranoia briefly took over her while they passed by the iron gates. Perhaps she was only searching for excuses.

Her words made him frown as he also looked around, not noticing anyone looking funny at her. And he should, if it was the case, he was trained in observing people.

"Cas, calm down. You don't look out of place at all, you look.." His voice suddenly got caught in his throat as she her glance returned to him, looking expectantly at him. And the way the streetlights gleamed in her chestnut-coloured eyes made his mind blank out for a moment. He stuttered. "You look.. fitting."

Cassandra arched a brow at him, cocking her head. "Fitting?" She giggled, dumbfounded. It was so random, it genuinely distracted her from her worries. "Thanks, I take that." 

She took out the invitation and the fake ID Jimin had sent her way then. And Taehyung was astonished how naturally she looked while passing both to the security guard. If she was nervous - which he knew she must've been - he couldn't tell. The guards passed her the documents back and they entered. Going through the metal detectors and towards the corridor to the courtyard then.

The courtyard wasn't too big, or at least the numerous people in their gowns and tuxedos made it appear smaller. The building's facade was just as cream white there as outside from the street. A big french flag lazily waving in the night air over one of the side entrances, which was covered by a curved construction out of glass with everyone lining up in front to enter.

Cassandra put on a serious face again and closed her eyes. Taking in a deep breath. "I'm better than everyone else. I'm better than everyone else. I'm -"

"What?" His brows furrowed in confusion at her weird mantra.

"Getting mentally into my role. Can't look like a misfit among all those snobby people," she explained with a grin and Taehyung let out a genuine laugh.

This woman surely was full of surprised.

He nodded in approval before tucking her towards the entrance.

"Smart. Come, let's go inside."  

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TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!

next chapter: 0.6 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

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[sunraies]

can we get a part 2 for “goodbye” pleasee?!

I wasn't planning a part 2 but I had some thoughts on how the relationship would go once Rafe arrived in Paris. I have made bullet points in sections. All fluff, no angst.

Love in Paris

Rafe Cameron × Kook!Reader

Warnings - Fluff. Bullet points, not full detailed fic

Moments of when Rafe comes to Paris

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

• You met Rafe at the airport a week later. You held a cute little sign with his name on. Desperately trying to catch a glimpse of him as people crowded the arrivals area.

• Once you spotted each other, you were stocked as he'd buzzed his hair. But damn did he look fine!

• He dropped his bag to the floor as he caught you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he supported you, hands on your ass under your little flower sundress.

"Hey, baby," He whispered before kissing you

• That first kiss was so full of longing, passion and love.

○●○●

• Rafe held your hand the whole taxi ride back to your dorms, his thumb caressing over your knuckles. You felt your cheeks warm as he's shade covered eyes watched you more than the sites you tried to point out as the taxi passed by.

"There's the Eiffel Tower," you pointed out the window, leaning over him "Rafe are you even interested?"

"I'm looking at best sight." He smiled down at you.

• As you showed him around campus that was all still so new to you, he had his arm over your shoulders. You showed him the best coffee spot and study area, which resulted in making out in quiet space. Up against the bookshelves holding a hundred year old books.

The dust off the books fluttered around you from the force, Rafe pushed you against the wooden shelves. You whimpered against Rafe’s lips. Your hands ran over his buzzed hair while his hands roamed your body, lifting your leg over his hip.

• At your dorm room he met your two roommates. Bonnie and Samantha (Sammy). As Rafe used your bathroom, they gushed over him, which you were 100% sure he heard when he returned with a smirk on his face.

"That man is fine with a capital F" Bonnie swooned

"F for Fuck Me!" Sammy winked at you.

• Seeing Rafe Cameron lounging on your small dorm bed was an image you would never forget. He looked so sleepy as he relaxed against your pillows. The sunset making him look golden as it shone on him through your window

○●○●

• The few days Rafe stayed as a whirl wind of sight seeing from the Eiffel Tower and walking along the Seine. You had lunch dates and fantasy dinners. He spoiled you as much as you aloud him too. If you let him, he would find a way to give you the moon.

• One of your best nights was in his hotel room. He brought everything off the room service menu and as you eat, you watched a French movie with subtitles but he made you translate. You ended up sat between his legs, his arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled and kissed your neck. He laughed richly as you made up what the characters were saying. It was the perfect night of best friends and lovers

"That is not what he said, baby" Rafe laughed against your neck

"It was, you don't speak French that well, babe"

"I can read the subtitles"

"Maybe they are wrong"

• That night ended in the most intimate, love making you ever experience.

○●○●

• The morning of his flight, neither wanted to say goodbye. Curled up in each other, spending as much time as possible to together, knowing the next time would be Christmas break.

"I love you" You sighed, holding onto him as you hugged

"I love you too, baby" He kissed your head before lifting your chin and kissing you softly.

• Seeing him get on his plane was heartbreaking

• As soon as he landed he phoned you, exicted to tell you that Ward had given him a chance to work in the family busines.

• A few months later, he was back in Paris to meet important clients. He was spending until Christmas there, it was the best gift Ward had ever given you.

[mimifics7]

The Prince : Part 1

-> Vampire Prince Hyunjin x fem! reader

-> genre: vampire au, royalty au, suggestive (no proper smut)

-> Summary: Tired because of your busy life and struggling mentally… you escape to the forest Where you though you’d be alone. Their you found a small cottage where lived the most beautiful man alive…. who just happened to be the thing you hate the most… a vampire.

(Hyunjin is a rude bitch but he’s actually really nice and just doesn’t know how to interact with humans. He’s also a fucking tease but wbk)

It took great Mental strength not to lash out in anger at the guard that stood before you.

You rolled your eyes.

The larger man stopped midspeech, a sharp glare pointed at you.

You smiled sweetly.

“This is your final warning Y/L/N. I’m not gonna put up with your bullshit anymore. Imma have you thrown into prison. I swear I will”

You knew they were empty threats.

Keeping the smile on your face you spoke up.

“I’m sorry… can’t the children have fun?” “You’re crazy”

You almost laughed as he made a disgusted face. Finally he turned to leave, walking away from you and the small humans behind you.

“In front of me. Now” you warned.

The twins stepped from behind you, eyes wide with innocence the world had yet to taint.

“What have I told you two about stealing? If you need anything you ask me. You know what they’re going to do to you”

It was a lie. Although children were warned to behave around the royal guards because they’d give you a hard spanking, the truth was hidden. Such young minds shouldn’t have to know about the blood sucking creatures and their ways to torture people. Such young minds should be protected for as long as possible… until someone finally frees us from their cruel rein.

“But Y/N… mama’s sick again… and papa was drinking all night. We asked him for money but he almost hit Micki!”

Sick bastard, you thought.

”Alright… this is the last time though…. kids please, next time ask me for the money. Why didn’t you hmm? You know I’d help you no matter what”

“We heard Auntie talk with mother about it…. Auntie said you were running out of money… said you barely ate a bread a day because you’re spending all your hard earned money on the entire village…. Y/N we’re sorry. Mama is sick and We don’t want you to be like her. Keep the money and eat something….”

Your heart melted at the sight of the child. Her eyes were shiny with tears as she spoke from her heart. The little girl should not have to worry for such things.

It was true though. All the money you earned was given away to help people and everyday you barely ate anything. But to you that didn’t matter because in this village there were people who suffered from more than just hunger. Sickness and diseases, broken bones and broken minds…. yet the disgusting blood sucking rulers did nothing as they sat back and bathed in luxury.

Their kind really did disgust you.

You see a long time ago… when the village didn’t exist… the vampires proved they were stronger than any human alive. As the humans protested… to prove their strength and power the vampires promised great things… earning the trust of foolish and greedy people. Those greedy people built a kingdom, a kingdom larger than anyone had ever seen. They fought many wars, took over lands to extend their power and now…. They ruled over many.

Some cities like the capital were taken care of…. but villages like yours were another story.

You felt as if it was your duty. If the rulers couldn’t do their job you’d do it for them. Even if It meant sacrificing yourself in the process.

The twins had returned home to their mother with their stolen food and you had just returned from doing your nightly checkups. You admit… it was tiring and sometimes you wished your life wasn’t this way, but each time the necklace of your diseased mother was a reminder of why you helped so many.

Sighing, you stood outside your small house and looked at the beautiful night sky. The full moon was gleaming bright tonight and it made you smile. The tiny lights scattered in the sky gave you hope… made you dream of a life for everyone that was better than this. Breathing in the fresh air you decided that it was too beautiful of night to go to sleep now.

Grabbing the dagger your mother gave you, you escaped to the nearby forest. Unlike other people, your village didn’t believe in superstitions and stories of the forest Being a horrific place. As children you were taught the forest was a place to heal… where the world was untainted by greedy rules and bad people. The forest was the only peace you’d find anywhere on the planet. You had been in there many times before, but today gut willed to venture as far away as you possibly could. Far enough that the lights of the small village seemed like yellow stars on the ground.

The walk was pleasant. Your mind was slowly clearing of worries and soon filling with memories of walks like these you used to have with your mother. She was fairly young when she passed away and so we’re you… being barely 13 years old. Yet she left a huge impact on you. She was a woman like no other. While other woman worried about their husbands and housework… your mother worried for the kingdom and people. She wasn’t your real mother though. She was someone who saw a young child thrown away and decided to take her in and raise her like her own.

Your thoughts were stopped as your ears perked. Maybe your ears were fooling you or maybe it was just the wind… but strangely in the distance you heard soft music. It was entrancing to say the least… soft yet powerful. The strong curiosity of yours pulled you towards it and soon you reached a clearing.

A gasp almost escaped your lips as you saw an ethereal sight.

A figure dressed in white, moved against the edges of the lake. It moved with such grace and fluidity that if it wasn’t for the heavy breathing you heard you would’ve thought it was a ghost. His skin was pale like the moon above and his hands sparkled like stars, decorated with rings of all shapes and sizes. Your eyes stayed glued onto him unblinking, afraid that you might miss a movement.

He danced, unaware of your presence, all over the garden, body moving smoothly. He had the grace of a swan yet held sharpness and preciseness steady.

You could sense the soft music coming to end as his movement slowed to the beat of it. With one final movement he reached his hands towards the sky, one leg behind the other, and held the position. As the music declined you continued staring. You stood, dumb and entranced, your breathing heavy as if you yourself had done the dance.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your entire life.

You couldn‘t describe how but you could feel the emotions In the dance. The loneliness, the fear, the sadness and the pain all came crashing to you. Yet some part of it felt hopeful. It didn’t matter because it was certainly breathtaking. Without realising it, a single tear slipped down your cheek but you quickly wiped it off. Careful not to make any noise, you stood still, waiting for the figure to do something.

Slowly he retracting his hand and foot and stood normally with his head tilted towards the sky. A few second passed and he slowly turned around and walked to the door of a house. He touched the nob and stood still. His head turned to your direction and you froze.

Vampire.

He was beautiful yes… but skin so pale and eyes so red could only mean he was a vampire. But unlike all the other beasts you had seen, his eyes were softer and less monstrous. Maybe it was that or the fact that you saw a vampire do such a soft and emotional dance when you knew they weren’t capable of such emotions after butchering so many people.

Making no movement and even stopping your breathing for a while, you stood behind the tree until he finally opened the door of the small cottage behind him and left….

Snapping out of your own daze, stumbling out of the forest.

—————————————————————————

You hated yourself for this.

you hated that you had been mesmerised by a disgusting vampire. Of all the creatures that existed that vampire was the most beautiful you had ever seen.

But most of all… You hated that from that day two weeks ago, you visited the man everyday to watch him dance.

Each day you’d hear new music and see new moves. Some days his dances were powerful and demanding… other days they were soft. Each time the emotions were strong. And no matter the performance pain always shone through the most. To you it felt like a plead for help… someone to come and save him.

If people found out they would think that you’re crazy… why Would a vampire want to be saved? Theyre all bastards who misuse their power. They’re creatures of the night.

Why would he be any different? Hes a power hungry monster just like the rest of them.

But yet again you found yourself quietly sneaking into the forest late at night.

At this point you had the way to the small cottage memorised. You knew exactly where you’d start hearing the soft music. Each day you wondered what new music he might play. What new dance he would perform. What emotions would he convey today?

The curiosity bubbled in you, threatening to burst, so you hastened your footsteps until you could see The cottage.

Hiding behind a tree you saw him again. The music was playing but he stood completely still. From a distance you heard thunder rumbling and immediately looked up.

to your surprise, their were many clouds in the sky. it was about to rain anytime soon. The wind was getting stronger and stronger each passing second. It howled in the dark forest, maybe begging the beautiful man to dance like you were silently.

Or maybe it was a warning.

You heard him sigh…

Finally he lifted his arms and begun dancing.

He moved with the wind, fluid and precise, emotional and powerful. And looking at him… for the first time in two weeks, you eyes watered with tears.

Something About today was sadder. Maybe it was the mood the upcoming rain created, or maybe it was his own emotions and past self radiating through the dance. Whatever it was, it was painful.

Your heart hurt for him. Whatever he was dancing for was truly tragic. His longing was stronger today. His plea for rescue sounded like a plea fot Everything to end today. The way he moved made you realise that he was broken…

You flinched harshly, quickly covering your mouth to stop a gasp from escaping you, as a branch of a tree lowered because of the wind.

Cursing at the branch for blocking your view of the man, you slowly crept to another spot.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.

With a sharp gasp, which this time you were unable to cover, you slipped on a rock, tumbling down the small slope. You landed harshly on your back with your eyes closed.

The music continued.

Ever so slowly you opened your eyes.

Another gasp.

He was….

He was……

Beautiful.

No…

He was beyond beautifu….

His face was thing with sharp eyes and small mole beneath one eye. His nose was small and complime red his face shape perfectly. And his lips were red, wide and thick.

His eyes bore into yours, looking equally as shocked.

But within a flash they turned stone cold, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Who the fuck are you?” He demanded in a low tone.

You winced as you lay on the ground while he stood.

You fucked up.

You attempted to get up, stumbling forward from the sharp pain in your knee. He caught you quickly, hands stabling you from your waist. You looked up to meet his eyes.

His grip grew tighter and his eyes flashed red. Your eyes widened and realisation came crashing down on you.

What the fuck were you doing? You just revealed yourself to a monster… yes he was beautiful but they all were. He would either hand you to the guards or he would eat you right now. How could you have been so foolish. How could you thought this monster was beautiful when his kind killed the person you loved the most so brutally?

You pushed yourself away from him, drawing out the dagger and holding it out.

“Take another step and I’ll kill you”

His posture relaxed.

He stood taller and raised his eyebrow cockily.

“Oh? I can snap your neck before you even move that toy of yours”

You scoffed.

of course he was an asshole. Just like the rest of his kind.

“Want to test that theory?”

His smirk grew wider.

Before you could even take another breath, the dagger was thrown to the right and he was infront of you.

His slender and cold hand held your neck.

“Who the fuck sent you?” He snarled.

With your heart beating quickly In your chest and the possibilities of the gruesome deaths you could have by his hands running in your head, you raised your knee and jammed it into his private region.

He winced sharply, loosing the grip on you. You rushed to your dagger as fast as you could m, but once again he used his unnatural powers to grab you. This time the dagger caressed your throat.

“I’ll ask one more time. Who the fuck sent you to kill me?”

You tried the same tactic but he was smart enough to jam his knee against yours. You winced in pain.

Your breathing grew heavier.

This was the end.

The knife pierced through your skin slightly as you whimpered.

“Answer the fucking question and I’ll make your death painless and quick. The longer you take, the longer your death will be… now… who sent you. Was it Uncle? Or was it that bastard Damian?“

What the fuck was he asking.

“I have no-“ he pressed it further, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Your eyes watered from the pain as you began to shake from the pain.

“I have no idea please. it hurts.“ you whimpered.

Slowly he removed the knife from your skin, eyes becoming softer than the were earlier. He still didn’t let the grip on your wrists go.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about do you?”

You shook your head vigorously.

His expression hardened again.

“What are you doing here then little human?”

“I’m not little” you answered with clenched teeth.

Did this psycho just press a knife against your throat, realise he was falsely accusing you and then proceed to call you little?

”Your stubborn aren’t you Little human?”

The smirk returned.

Oh how you hated him already.

Beautuful? Ethereal? Sad? Painful? Yeah those were all stupid assumptions… this was another monstrous asshole.

“I said I’m not Little.”

”You’re not? Then why do I have to look down to meet you eye? And why am I using a single hand to hold two small wrists?”

You snatched your wrist away from him and took a step back.

Abruptly , you turned around and grabbed a stone, trying to hoist yourself up so you could escape.

“You do realise Im faster than you right? Even if you do manage to climb up… which will take quiet a while…. it’ll take me a second to catch you.”

You huffed. Fuck him for being right.

“Good girl. Now are you going to answer my question?”

You turned around.

was he crazy?

He almost killed you two seconds ago and now he was being…. playful?

“I-” you opened your mouth to snap at him but using his speed he covered your mouth.

“Stay quiet”

You had no choice.

A few seconds passed and you heard fast thumping against the ground.

Only one animal could make such a sound…. Horsebats… and only vampire royals were allowed to harbour these creatures...

Your heart stopped.

Dying by the hands of one vampire was one thing… but by a royal… they were brutal power hungry and ruthless creatures.

You were screwed.

(Part 2 coming soon)

[vendettamuses]

@lunareaum SAID: 🔮 my v (valerie jones) and johnny silverhand

⚔️ Tarot Readings // ACCEPTING ⚔️

SIX OF COINS REVERSED

The Cat drapes himself across Molly Grue's shoulders in a gesture of camaraderie. He has information that Molly Grue will find most valuable and, in retum, the scullery maid offers food and companionship to the feline. Molly holds her hands out, palms up, balancing the equally weighted coins that float on either side of her. The Cat's paw tips one side further, demonstrating that his coveted knowledge tips the scale in his favor at this time. Their relationship is symbiotic. If he is generous now, he will be rewarded in time when he is rescued from the broken remnants of King Haggard's castle.

A tendency to give too much of yourself may be causing more harm than good. Pay yourself before you pay someone else and avoid going into debt. Others may be acting ungrateful or neglecting to return your favors. Finding alternate but equal ways they can repay you may serve as a solution, or you may need to set firm limits on how much you are willing to aid them going forward.

QUEEN OF SWORDS

Mommy Fortuna is unphased as the winds of change buffet around her. The caged harpy watches with murderous eyes, looking for any weakness to capitalize on. The witch bears a crowned sword, indicating her mastery in matters of the mind, as well as her ability to pierce through the veil to seek the truth of things. She knows one day Celano will kill her, but she is shrewd and has plans to keep the harpy enthralled for as long as possible. Her corvid familiar is a creature of intellect and magic, both arts that she is well-disciplined in. The moon allows the witch to see the situation at hand with cold clarity, the fullness of it mirroring her power at its height.

You are someone who makes decisions with your head rather than your heart, making it difficult to be fooled. Your relationships are based more on intellect than empathy, but that does not mean you do not care. Seek the truth in all things and others will respect your perspective on matters important to them. If people wish to get to know your gentler aspects, they will first need to earn your trust - if they can get over your intimidating demeanor to begin with.

KING OF COINS REVERSED

The hunter is a self-made man, one who appreciates the bounties that the earth provides. He always considers the ramifications of his actions and takes only what he needs, allowing conservation for the future. Rather than being separate from the verdant foliage surrounding him, he seems to be an innate part of it. As his beard has grown longer over the years, so have his experiences given him knowledge that he gladly passes on to the next generation. The coin that he holds is not clutched tightly to his chest, for he is confident in his ability to sustain what he has or acquire more.

Festivities today should only occur when you know you can afford it and you have set aside savings for tomorrow. There are both negative and positive aspects to money that may attempt to rule your thoughts. Keep your priorities focused on things money cannot buy and you will not go astray.

INTERPRETATION

Dreams are a powerful connector. The imagined goal shared between people can be the most powerful, and the most dangerous, type of fuel. When a dream is shared with another individual, especially one who is cared for deeply, we tend to become self-sacrificing in the goal of achieving our pursuits. V and Johnny are not immune to this fatal character flaw. For V, it was the dream of becoming memorable mercenaries with Jackie. Achieving their goal of going three-bit, having drinks named after them, getting rich, and giving back to the Heywood community that raised them. For Johnny, it was about changing the world through rock and sticking it to the corpos. Lifting people up to take charge of their own destiny. Unfortunately, neither of their plans have gone the way they hoped. Now they are indebted to each other, racing against a clock and trying to strike a balance between reasonable compromise and maintenance of what limited freedoms they still possess.

For V, the process of setting boundaries with Johnny is easy. In the beginning anyway. She’s rational. Levelheaded about the circumstances for the most part. And like it or not, that’s rubbing off on Johnny. He’s an ass, but he’s not stupid. And as time goes on, he comes to realize that he and V are not so different. Little by little, his desire to take over wanes and he becomes worried for her well-being. He comes to care about her, though he’ll never say it. He wants her to live, if for no other reason than he wants to be able to say that he saved even one life before he disappeared forever. That is his motivation as much as it is hers. Through that, they find ways (albeit through snarky comments and sarcasm) to stabilize their relationship. There is a tentative understanding — not quite trust — between them that they are both pawns in some greater scheme. Their best chance of surviving this situation is to work together. Through that cooperation, they develop something of a gentler, more intimate relationship. Something they would perhaps enjoy exploring, if only they had more time.

But that cannot be their focus. They have no spare seconds to dawdle or contemplate the what ifs or greater intricacies of an amicable relationship while they’re still actively dying. The clock ticks down ceaselessly as they are scrambling to make connections and scrape together enough eddies to get what they need. The time spent together has its ups and downs of course- but they cannot allow themselves to lose focus as they come down to the wire. They’ll have all the time to talk and bond as much as they like once V is not at risk of being lost forever. Even Johnny understands that- and oddly enough, he’s accepted that reality. Because he knows that no matter how many gigs they pull or how much money they make, all the eddies in the world could not replace V. And that’s just one risk he’s not willing to take.

[misselko]

Got this idea from Dimitri’s conversation with Byleth before Fort Merceus battle with the Death Knight. Put some angst, fluff, and a pinch of smut spices into the dish and let it simmer down! At least, that’s what I want! But it turned out... different ;) Sorry not sorry

This one took me some days to write. I hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to give me some advice and ideas for my next fic! Your warm comments will be cherished very much 💕 Thankies!!

 

RECKLESS

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence, smut

Words: 3316

 

POST TIMESKIP

Empire will be the only remaining enemy and to move on to the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, capturing Fort Merceus is a must. Praised as the strongest defense with its fortified military installation  in the Empire, seizing it won’t be an easy feat.

Liberating Arianrhod, calming down Holy Kingdom of Faerghus political issues, winning over the Leicester Alliance and gained their support. Getting a lead on Lady Rhea’s location. Although things were a rough go, but thinking back on it now, Blue Lions sure has really come a long way. Things have been wonderful in these past moons that it almost feels like dream too good to be true.

You don’t know why but you can’t shake your uneasy feelings and dread. War is raging and everyone knows there is a big battle on the horizon.

“We must not falter in our assault. The Death Knight is the enemy commander in Fort Merceus. He’s an unpredictable opponent. A dangerous one. Please proceed with caution, (Y/N).”

“I will, Dimitri. No need to worry.”

“I have not come this far just to lose you here. I’m serious. Do not be reckless out there.”

“Will you save me if I’m in trouble?”

“Of course, (Y/N). You were the heart of the Blue Lions, and the same holds true for the Kingdom Army.”

You smiled at his concern and hold his hands gently.

“I will do my best as well to support you, my Dimitri.” His cheeks turned into rosy blush at your words.

 

“Whoaa!! You’re getting pretty chummy, aren’t you, Your Highness? Go get a room!” Sylvain winks and got punched HARD, dragged away by Ingrid. You make mental notes on giving her a delicious roasted meat from that famous new shop in the town later as your gratitude. Serves him right!! ...But you wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. Everything will be alright with them. Blue Lions are your precious family. It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

---

Capturing Fort Merceus is a daunting task. Endless enemies are approaching and relentless. Felix and Sylvain are working together cut through the snipers and mages. Ingrid and Ashe are doing their best to handle the pegasi knights. Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn makes great combo on cutting through enemy reinforcements while providing healing to everyone. Slowly but sure, you and Dimitri managed to push Death Knight on the corner. But it doesn’t make things less difficult for both of you.

 

“You dare stand between me and my pleasure?”

The beginning of it was barely a bellow that grew steadily to a deafening roar, piercing the air and shaking the ground. Areadbhar crack in deafening clash against Death Knight’s Scythe of Sariel. They raised their weapons, waving them overhead.

 

“Yes. I dare stand against you, Death Knight!!”

 

Dimitri decides to face Death Knight head on as you tried your best to keep his back safe from the Imperial soldiers assaults. Keeping a close eye on him... just in case, following from a few meters back, cover his blind spots that way, look out for any potential danger. You could see them coming around, carefully and quietly trying to find their way to Dimitri.

 

Landing sharp blows, you bring the blade down on the head of another mage. Slashing your way through numerous enemies, you start to feel fatigued. Countless enemies lying dead behind. You looked around, among the sea of red and black, a swordmaster is sneaking his way behind Dimitri, ready to ambush him.

 

But you wouldn’t let it happen!

 

You were fully offensive, rapidly swinging your sword down on the swordmaster. You were able to deflect, parry, and block most of his attacks until his foot swept across your ankles, knocking you hard to the floor. The swordmaster stood above you, ready to press his sword into your chest to end your life. Fatigue made it harder for you to evade his deadly stab completely. Sound of a weapon piercing through flesh filled your ears, followed by an intense pain in your side. He pulled it back out with a triumphant smirk on his face. Despite the searing pain, you made it in time to grab your own weapon and thrust it up to his neck, your arms shaking as you tried to counter the weight of his attack. Grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red.

 

You sat up, wincing at the searing, burning hot pain on your side. The stab wound was way too deep. Your hands trembled, desperately attempting to put pressure on the wound as heavy flow of your blood is trickling through your fingers, colors your skin and clothes. The world had turned blurry, and your body felt weak. Ignoring the excruciating pain, you rush forward to help Dimitri. He has won against the Death Knight. But in his brief reverie, the Tempest King failed to notice two opposing snipers are approaching him, expression intent to kill, aiming their arrows at his back.

 

You acted on instinct, rushing forward, sprinting to intervene. To protect him.

‘We have been through so much together and he’d been through hell and back... I want to ease his pain. Knowing he’s safe... I can be at peace.’

You thought to yourself, launching forward. You barely has energy to stand up, but you tried to muster your last remaining strength to dove in before Dimitri. The arrows managed to easily make it’s way through your armor, landing in your chest and abdomen. ‘I have no regret when it came to protecting Dimitri.’

 

Your body slammed hard on the ground, careening across the battlefield. A sharp cry pained noise escaped you; that was all it took. Dimitri stiffened at the sound. It pulled him from the high of the battlefield down to reality in an instant.

 

“(Y/N)!!!”

 

He turned; filled with horror and rage. The fires blazing around him didn’t give off any heat. The battlefield around him turned black and white. His ears were ringing as if he’d been caught in an explosion. Dimitri went after the snipers and thrust them both at their hearts. After a quick glance to make sure no more surprise attacks happen, he kneels and pulling you into his chest. You looked so small, felt so limp that it sickened him. Broken and battered with littered scars and large wound on your side. Arrows jutting out of your chest, much too close to the heart, and another one lodged deep in your abdomen.

 

Dimitri watched as the blood pooled around you. Blood... there is so much blood. Your blood.

“Goddess... what were you- MERCEDES! FLAYN!! SOMEONE...HELP!!”

 

He pulled himself up, beside you, staring at your face. You were so pale. Oh, Goddess, you were dying. Were you already dead?

“I’m sorry.” There isn’t a reason to apologize, you aren’t sorry, but it still came out like the blood that is on Dimitri’s hands now.

 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” his voice choked off in his throat feels raw with emotions, barely able to hold back the sob which demands to escape, “not when you are like this. What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You have promised me to not be reckless.” He phrased it in a question, but both know why.

 

“Y-You... haven’t seen the... swordmaster... and those snipers. Y-You...were going to die...if they attack you. I want to protect you.... and I don’t regret my decision.“

 

You opened your mouth to speak but immediately coughed, feeling globs of blood on the corners of your lips. Dimitri gripped your hand, his hold so tight that it hurt, but you wouldn’t waste your breath on telling him. You could barely see Mercedes scurried over to your side as quickly as she could, Flayn follows behind her, leaving the Death Knight behind with tears running down her cheeks.

 

“Please stay awake for me a little longer, please.”

He choked out, pulling you closer if possible as it would keep you from leaving.

 

The chaos around you went mute as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe a quick nap would suffice.

 

“No...no, no, (Y/N)!! You can’t do this to me, you can’t-! Please, (Y/N), I can’t lose you too.....”

 

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. You fell asleep.

---

Every second was filled with anxiety; you’d lost so much blood. The wounds were too deep to heal completely. There was little to no possibility of survival. Not after what you’d been through.

The days turned to one week, then two...then three. The physical wounds had healed, mostly repaired and faded to scars. There was potential for things to return to normal, and you may wake up sooner rather than later.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your upper body covered in bandages. The first thing you’re aware of is a dull throb radiating throughout your entire body. You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your body and sending a wave of pain through your chest and stomach as you tried to get up. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before. With much struggle, you sat on the edge of the bed shakily trying to stand up. The door creaked open and you looked up to find Dimitri peering inside.

 

”You’re awake,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. You tried to stand up and walk to him but failed, Dimitri ran in and caught you before you fell over. “I thought I was going to lose you, (Y/N),” he said, lifting you up effortlessly, settling you gently onto the bed and pulled up a chair. 

 

As cautiously as you could, you managed to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the young king, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

 

“You nearly died because of me. I have no right to be... you of all people shouldn’t-!” He managed to say, his voice shaking as his fingers trembled.

His head shot up to look at you, cerulean blue eyes dampened by tears that pooled in them. Your eyes were open, though weakly, looking at him and his disturbed state. You sensed his worry, but also his relief as he hovers next to your bed, engulfing you in his embrace and squeezing you against his chest for all he was worth. He was mindful of your wound, but that wasn’t enough to keep him away. No, he needed you. He needed to be beside you, to feel you, to know you were there.

 

“I’m okay, Dimitri...” You whispered, resting a hand on his chest where his heart thundered. You closed your eyes against him, relishing the feel of his tender warmth.

 

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening. Your arms wrapped around his heaving back weakly, rubbing it soothingly. He pulled you closer in response—closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

 

"I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, holding your hands so tight that it hurts.

“But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

 

His voice was as quiet as it could be and it made you frown your eyebrows in worry. You were happy to see him alive, that was your goal when you decided to protect him from the approaching enemies. However, seeing him so distraught and afraid twisted your insides uncomfortably. The way he held your hand so desperately, afraid to let go.

 

“Dimitri.” You call him quietly, which makes him look at you with those gorgeous eyes of him.

 

You move your hand to his cheeks, caressing his soft skin, trying to bring him even the tiniest amount of comfort. Leaning to give him a soft chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocated by open-mouthed kiss you with such fervor. There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way Dimitri kisses you, as if this is the last moment he’ll ever feel it. It’s almost as if it pains him to be this close to you. You were alive, yet he couldn’t help but doubt it. Perhaps it was once again due to the vicious noises he still heard, though faintly. However, he was glad that they allowed him this moment of happiness.

 

“I won’t leave you, Dimitri.” You promised between ragged breath, your chest heaving.

 

“We are so close to ending this. Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. Rest, for now, my beloved.” Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding your hand to his chest. “I promise, I will never let you be hurt for my sake again.” Covering you with a  blanket  and tucking you into bed to retire for the evening.

---

After your awakening, the Blue Lions and Professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts (flowers and snacks), always encourage you to get better soon. But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved gentle king.

It was two weeks since you have gotten better. Mercedes promised to take care after your bandages this evening.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?”

You met Mercedes’ warm gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mercedes.”

 

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your breasts to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Mercedes sighed, slowly traced the scars your chest and stomach.

“I’m sorry but we will never be able to remove the scars. The wounds all healed, but... the scars will never go away completely. I’m sorry (Y/N).”

 

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“It’s okay. I will never regret such a thing.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Do you need anything else, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m all good, Mercedes! Thank you for your help.”

“All right, then. Annette said that she needs my help with her baking this evening. We have to finish it before midnight! Should you need anything, please feel free to call me.” Mercedes gave you last smile before excusing herself politely from your quarter.

 

“Dimitri.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. Refusing to look at your scar, a harsh reminder of his failure.

“Look at me.”

He stilled and won’t budge to look at you.

 

“I will never regret nor blame you for this. It was my decision and if it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Or... perhaps.... I can understand if you find that my... scars are disgusting, appalling, even....” you whisper softly, almost inaudible. Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into your bed.

“DON’T SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!!” He growled “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me. If.. If something ever happen to you.. I’ll live a life worse than death itself, (Y/N).”

 

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. His mouth moved awkwardly yet full of affection. Hands planted  on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravishing kisses. Dimitri pressed his lips further into yours, swallowing your moans. His lips left yours to trail down around your neck, breasts, and stomach lovingly. “This wounds... I cannot lose you again, my beloved.” His body quivered.  The King kissing the scars on your cleavage and abdomen, worshiping them reverently with tender touches, almost like touching a porcelain doll. Afraid to break you with his almost inhuman power. Biting and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites, leaving you a panting mess.

 

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling whispers of ‘I’m sorry’. Bittersweet smile formed on his lips. He gazed at you, eyes lidded with desires and need, mixed with guilt and love. “(Y/N)... My beloved...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled.

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into.

“I love you, Dimitri.”

 

He blushed at your words, then it dawned on his realization. Suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “Um, w-well...” As he came to his full senses he released his hands from you, as though from fire and stuttered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the dreamlike stupor a d hazy feeling to distract you, you realized just how naked you are. Nightgown pooled beneath your waist. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

 

He flinched, breaking eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah—Urghh!!! I’m sorry, (Y/N)!! I don’t know what came over me but.. but... P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...” The King unclasped his furred cloak hurriedly and put it over your naked body unceremoniously, hiding his flushed crimson face in his hands again, absolutely brutalized with shame. 

 

“Er.. Be certain to rest for now. We may have undone some of your healing.” Then he said hurriedly, almost inaudibly. “When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

 

“Fine...” You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, Dimitri.”

You pulled his hand to your lips and give each of his fingers soft kisses, gazing at him lovingly. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the poor king desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

 

“Good night, my beloved (Y/N).” Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, the Blue Lions Leader left with a haste that was probably unbecoming of a gentleman, his long legs taking the steps to the second floor dormitory two at a time. He somehow,  somehow  managed to reach his room without incident or interruption, locking his door behind him, leaning back against it and covering his burning red face with his hands. His body felt like it was on fire; nerve endings alight with sensations he had long believed were dead.

 

The pit of his stomach tangled in knots when he thought of (Y/N). All he could think about was your pure unadultered love, beautiful (E/C) that is gazing at him affectionately. Goddess, he was such a sinner. It made him want to put his hands on you. All over you. Repeatedly. Savoring the taste of your lips as you moan into his mouth. Feeling your warmth and love. Unclothed. His mind is running wild. This frantic sensation in his blood, while half-forgotten, was not new. It will be another sleepless night for the poor king. And it’s all because of you.

[esoteric-mantra-stuff]

Olympus (A rematched Icebound Return)

CW: General descriptions of curses and non-gory violence. It's nothing that could be considered gross, but I think it's worth mentioning.

Heyyyyy, here I am back on my bs. I wanted to get this one done before the end of March, but I've been a bit busy. Haven't had much time for creative writing. The next one might take a while to come out because of that, but we should be getting to some juicy stuff.

Also Morgott my beloved, why do you have to simp so hard for this ugly piss yellow tree?

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

In your many years of wandering the Lands Between, you had never set foot in the Atlus Plateau before, much less the royal capital. You’d heard whispers of a secret path, an ancient route long forgotten after the Great Lift of Dectus was created. The prawn seller you used to visit told you about it, but you’d never had the courage to try it. If it had not been for your companion’s affinity for exploring ruins, you’d likely have taken that secret path. Instead, you’d found both halves of the Dectus medallion required to activate the lift. A stroke of luck, perhaps, but part of you wants to believe its fate. As you made your way up the hallowed grounds where the demigods once stood, and the worship of the Erdtree began, something strange happened. You started to feel a sense of… Deja Vu?

The yellowish trees, the golden accents, the larger-than-life statues, the… everything felt almost familiar, but not quite. Like when you forget a word but can feel it on the tip of your tongue. You were sure you couldn’t have possibly been here; your first memories were at the First Step, learning what Tarnished are from a white masked doctor and that you were supposed to have a maiden with you to give guidance. Too far away from the Atlus Plateau, not to mention an exiled Tarnished descendant would have never been allowed the grace of visiting a place like that. It’s illogical. Still, you wonder if it’s a clue to your missing memories and bring it up to your companion or, rather, your lover.

“I only know about the Tarnished through second-hand information, but my understanding is that they’re exiles and their descendants who are being called back to reclaim the Elden Ring, right?” Lobo said, looking around the yellowish landscape. The two of you decided to take a break by a broken bridge. Private Dancer and Paper Moon, your dear horses, ate at the grass nearby.  You nodded; that was more or less the same information you’d gathered during your time here. “Then, is it not possible you visited this place before being exiled? As part of Godfrey’s original group.” He asked before taking a bite of his sandwich. You tried remembering how you were when you first awoke in the First Step. Your body wasn’t that of a warrior dressed in nothing but a silky traveling robe and a navy hood. Armed with an old sorcery staff and a dagger. Would someone like that really belong amidst a company of warriors? You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s it… I have difficulty believing someone like me could’ve ever belonged with them.” Lobo was a bit disappointed; you appreciated his help regardless. “Besides, I was little more than fifteen or sixteen when I woke up at the First Step. That a bit too young, don’t you think?” He hummed affirmatively, crossing his arms before a mischievous smile formed. “Blast, I felt like I was on the right track. Though I suppose you don’t look over five thousand years old.” You chuckle. “I’m sorry; I can tell you were looking forward to calling me old.” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but join. The conversation drifted from there, but the mystery remained. You had a connection with the Atlus Plateau; you just didn’t know why.

—---------------------------

The way through the Capital itself was a nightmare. You were under siege by the Leyndell soldiers and knights from every side. The main entrance was a no-go, positively crawling with enemies. So you took the long way around, over the broken bridge through a convenient waygate, past a village of windmills, and through a side gate. It was still heavily guarded, but more possible to tackle head-on than the main gate. Golems, soldiers, the undead, knights, and even a draconic erdtree sentinel posed a relentless challenge, yet you surpassed every single one with your combined might and ingenuity. By the time you were inside Leyndell proper, you and Lobo were exhausted. You would have continued, but Lobo insisted that exhaustion would only lead to fatal mistakes. Besides, he wanted to head for the Roundtable Hold to shop for an item he had his eyes on last time. So you conceded. Still, with the Elden Ring just a few city streets away, you wouldn’t find much sleep that night. Would the answers you seek come to you once your reason to be was fulfilled?

The city streets were not any easier to traverse than the outskirts. Knights patrolled every corner, and what you could only describe as marshmallow people holding trumpets stalked the rooftops. A large Erdtree Avatar wandered the main city street, so you took to the avenues to avoid it. Eventually, you made it to the base of the Erdtree. You climbed its roots together, holding Lobo’s hand so he wouldn’t fall on the treacherous path. Finally, you reached the top of a tall building nestled within the branches. Inside, the ghostly apparition of a man you didn’t recognize attacked you. Lobo quickly summoned the spirit of a Bloodhound Knight whose spirit ashes you’d obtained within a forgotten Evergaol on your last excursion to Limgrave. You and Lobo stood by and watched them fight. It was surprisingly entertaining; you could almost see a market for watching two spirits duke it out. The agile movements of the knight were enough to banish the stranger, and you continued your exploration. You discovered an elevator that would allow you to return to the city, but more importantly, you uncovered yet another root that could lead you further up and closer to the Elden Throne. 

That’s how you found yourself in Marika’s bed chamber. A large, uncomfortable-looking bed surrounded by stone tablets. You would think that an eternal goddess queen of the Lands between could afford some pillows at least. To your right, up a flight of stairs, was the Elden Throne. You’d spent so long wandering, living day-to-day, never thinking about yourself or your purpose. You’d given up your destiny long ago, yet here it was, just a few steps away. All it took was a chance encounter with a quarter-wolf for that to change. As you both stand before the first step, you stop to look at each other. Looking into his eyes, you can only hope you can repay what he has given you. With a determined nod, you make your way toward the throne room.

—-----------------

“Graceless Tarnished.” A figure speaks from the shadows behind the Elden Throne. The figure is horned and tall, an Omen. “What is thy business with these thrones?” The Omen says, could this be the true appearance of the Veiled Monarch? His voice is very familiar. Yes, you’ve met this Omen before. You’d killed him last time, though. “He did say he would return.” You think to yourself. “When Rennala said the king’s true face was that of a monster, she wasn’t lying, it seems.” The horned figure revealed to be Margit the Fell, gesticulated towards the ethereal thrones before him. “Ah… Godrick the Golden, The Twin Protegees Miquela and Maleina…” The three thrones on your left belonged to them, it would seem. “General Radhan, Praeter Rykard, Lunar Princess Ranni…” The three thrones on your right belong to them. You don’t miss the disgust in Margit’s voice when Ranni’s name exits his lips. “Willful traitors, all.” He punctuates the last word with a hit of his staff, embedding it in the ground.

Lobo leans in to whisper. “Get ready while he’s distracted.” You give a short nod, slowly concentrating the power within your staff. This is a known enemy. You won’t let him catch you off-guard. “Thy kind are all of a piece… Pillagers emboldened by the flame of ambition.” The Omen addresses you directly, crushing his staff and revealing an iridescent blade beneath. “Have it written upon thy meager grave… Felled by King Morgott, Last of all kings!” Margit, or rather, Morgott exclaims, raising his sword to his side. The Omen king’s soliloquy has ended; now it’s time for the final act. Lobo raises his shield, and you hold on to your staff with both hands. This is it.

Lobo is the first to approach Morgott. The Omen King walks slowly and deliberately, probably expecting yet another trick. He also remembers your last encounter. He is not fooled by your companion’s wobbling steps and keeps guarding despite the apparent lack of danger. That’s fine. If he can learn from his mistakes, so can you. Once Lobo is close enough to be within the king’s range, Morgott swings at him, summoning a hammer of light with the other hand, but before he can slam it down, Lobo’s shield makes contact with the blade, knocking Morgott off-balance and breaking the spell. The Omen king isn’t deterred by this and swings down, this time at an angle impossible to parry. Lobo rolls towards Morgott’s legs, sliding under his tail as it swings to catch him. From behind, he strikes a few times with his sword before Morgott summons yet another hammer and brings it down, which Lobo dodges away from with a backflip (You remember him being very proud when he pulled that off for the first time). The Omen King makes the mistake of attempting to reach Lobo with his sword, Morgott may be fast, but your companion is already on his feet before it can connect. Another strike at the shield, knocking the sword away, bringing the king to his knees. Lobo’s longsword plunges into the Omen’s chest, and he’s thrown back on the floor. He’s in your line of sight.

Then you hear the finger snap; that’s your cue. You start charging up the spell, the power of the Primal current causing the wind to blow in every direction. You’d only used this spell once to mostly disastrous results, but now with your current training and the queen’s advice, you feel prepared. From behind the light of your staff, you see Lobo raise his hand with the shield, revealing the object he had been holding this entire time. A small fetish, purchased from the Roundtable Hold, the one who would form the crux of the plan you’d laid out together. Yes, this was a known enemy from the start, and you only have the queen to thank for that. Before Morgott can stand up, your companion activates the shackle and pins the king to the floor. At that moment, you release your spell, hitting the poor Omen with the full power of Comet Azur. The force is enough to knock you back, but you stand firm.

Lobo shields his eyes from the light of the Comet. As the shackle finally breaks, Morgott is sent flying toward the throne, knocking it over. You thought that would be enough, but then the coughing started. Lobo stood back as Morgott let out a painful-sounding scream, and the full force of his curse was unleashed. You worry as you briefly lose sight of the quarter-wolf when the waves of curse burst from the king. “The thrones… stained by my curse….” The king said, swinging his now cursed sword towards Lobo. A red trail, followed by explosions in its path. The Omen king continues speaking, mostly to himself. “Such shame, I cannot bear. Thy part in this shall not be forgiven.” You tried running towards them, but you’d given too much to summon the Comet and fall to your knees. To think someone could survive after being hit with the strongest spell. Morgott’s power truly is on a whole other level. Regardless the Omen must be weak, as his hits are fast and desperate. One successful parry from Lobo, and it’s all over.

That’s why your heart sinks, and your vision blurs when you see your lover be skewered by Morgott’s cursed sword. His body disappearing into ash. You’d come so far it couldn’t end like this. Morgott, who seems satisfied with his duty, now turns towards you, and the sense of Deja Vu returns. You have been in this position before, during the first time you fought him. Perhaps, that’s why your vision drifts toward something behind Morgott that he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Something that tells you this fight has been won already. Something so stupid, you can’t believe it’s working.

For whatever reason, there’s a random pot right behind Morgott.

It’s over in a flash. The effect of the Mimic Veil fades, and Lobo somersaults towards Morgott’s back, catching him by surprise and throwing him down. Before the Omen can recognize what happened, Lobo’s sword is plunged through his back, finishing him off. “Tarnished… thou art but a fool… the Erdree wards off all who deign approach….” With the last of his strength, Morgott struggles to speak. You finally manage to stand up and approach the dying Omen. “We are… We are all forsaken….” A sad chuckle leaves him before all life fades from his eyes. On paper, it’s a victory, but the title of Elden Lord was never as close as it once seemed. Fate played yet another cruel trick.

—------------------

Thorns… a wall of thorns covered the way inside the Erdtree. Were they those of a regular plant, cutting them with a sword would have done the trick, but all attempts to do so failed. What gives? Why did Marika even call the Tarnished back to the Lands Between if she had no intention of letting them mend the Elden Ring? What was the point?

…

You’re too tired to ponder these questions. Today ended with no major injuries (If you don’t count the Mimic Tear that got skewered), just a deep sensation of dismay. Tomorrow you’ll have to consult with the finger reader at roundtable hold, though you doubt the Two Fingers will give much insight. As far as you can remember, the fingers have been quiet,  unresponsive to the world, stretched out, and trying to reach some unknowable force, but you’re out of options, and someone must know what to do. That someone, as it turns out, was waiting for you at Sorcerer’s Isle.

“I see… You never intended to keep your promise after all… What do you want, Ranni?” Lobo says upon seeing the Princess sitting by the fire. The witch lifts her head as you both take a seat by the fire as well. She speaks in her usual measured tone, her hands folded over her lap. “Circumstances have forceth me to breach our accord. Although, first, I wouldst liketh to congratulate thee over thine victory against the Omen King.” Lobo lets out a joyless laugh, and you sigh. With them sitting on opposite sides of the fire and you sitting between, it would appear you’ll be stuck playing mediator today.

Lobo stokes the flames, not making eye contact with the woman across from him. “I would hardly call it a victory, considering the Elden Ring is still out of reach… That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Ranni’s face betrayed no emotion, yet the slight recoiling of one of her fingers makes you feel he’s right on the money. “There’s a reason you’re still lingering about even though you have everything you need. So, spit it out already. Why are you here, and what do you want?” Tense silence falls over the camp after Lobo’s words. You can almost picture the daggers flying left and right as both sides stare each other down. You’re too tired for this, so you clear your throat. Both sides now stare toward you, their intensity redirected, but you can’t seem to care. “Excuse me, but I would rather avoid a fight. I’m sure you’re tired too, Lobo, so please let Ranni explain herself.” He falters, ears pinning back. Looking down in shame. “Right… I’m sorry, I didn’t consider… I shouldn’t have.” It’s not a complete sentence, but you understand what he means. You motion towards Ranni, who looks almost surprised at Lobo’s change of tune. The witch bows her head, a silent apology for misbehaving as well. “I believeth we can be of mutual help… To open a way to the Elden Ring, thou shall needeth to set it alight. A cardinal sin against the Golden Order, but t’is the only way.” To your and Lobo’s surprise, Ranni removes her white hat, revealing the pale blue, youthful face of the doll beneath. “It is mine wish to help thee reach thine goal. Iji knoweth of an ancient flame of the giants, one with enough power to burneth the thorns that block thine path away. I will assisteth thee in exchange for thine help.” Lobo crosses his arms, looking down at the flames. “Right… and if we refuse?” Ranni shakes her head. “Thou art free to refuseth mine help, but it truly is mine wish to help thee.” A skeptical hum. Lobo looks toward you for advice. You can picture the question in his mind: "Do you feel she's being honest?"

You shift your gaze over to the Princess. Ranni’s stoic as always, but the slight fidgeting with the edge of her hat’s rim, and her gaze wandering between the fire and Lobo’s face spoke of nervousness. At face value, she was being honest about her feelings, but you can’t discard the possibility of a trap. Your empathic abilities might be developed, but they’re not infallible. You look at Lobo, and through his gentle gaze you get the scope of his trust for you, and his trust in your ability. “Well… If he has that much faith in me, I think it would only do to have faith in myself as well” You think, and you give Lobo a slight nod. He looks down at the fire once more, turing things over in his mind before he finally breaks the tense silence between the three of you. “Alright… We’ll hear you out, but I can’t promise anything until I know what you expect in return.” Ranni’s bows her head respectfully, but she continues to avert Lobo’s gaze. “I thank thee…” It’s a quiet thing, but once again it sounds genuine. You can only hope this doesn’t bite you in the ass later.

“Thy task wouldst be concering this item.” The witch pulls out a small leather bag that sways on it’s own, almost as if trying to get away from her. She stands up and passes it to Lobo before returning to her seat. Lobo opens the bag, his eyes widen at the contents. With trembling fingers he reaches inside and pulls out a familiar grotesque blade made from bone. “The Fingerslayer Blade shall accept no other master…” Ranni says, putting her hat back in place.

“Slay the Two Fingers that hold us captive, and I shall deliver the Elden Throne to thee.”

[felassan]

Article: ‘Mass Effect 3 Could Have Had A Completely Different Ending’

The Mass Effect 3 ending has been a controversial subject for nine years. As it turns out, it could have been completely different.

This article is part of TheGamer’s Mass Effect week. 

Highlights:

This [the RGB endings] wasn’t always the case. According to Mass Effect 3 writer Chris Hepler, the end of Shepard’s story could have been radically different. 

Hepler started working on Mass Effect right at the beginning. Although he wasn’t formally part of the team yet, he did additional design, chipped in for playtesting, and offered a fair amount of writing feedback during development of the first game. He had a much more active role on Mass Effect 2, writing the Codex entries, the Galaxy Map, and spearheading the Cerberus Daily News initiative. By the time Mass Effect 3 rolled around, Hepler was writing EDI, Thane, Citadel missions, and was generally considered to be the project’s “loremaster.”

“The ending relies on space magic, and the lead writer, lead gameplay designer, and executive producer all just embraced that and owned it from the get-go,” Hepler tells me. “‘Any sufficiently advanced technology’ and all that. They wanted and got a really big decision that affects the whole galaxy. If you give it a moment's thought, none of the three options are perfectly moral or the ‘right’ answer for everyone. Destroy may not solve the problem of AI and organics; Control rewards the Reapers; even Synthesis, which is harder to get than the other two and sounds like it'd be permanent peace, basically violates the entire galaxy's bodily autonomy without consent. So that part, I think, works.

“Did it satisfy the fans? Hell, no, not at first, and I found a lot of the criticism to be legitimate. The Extended Cut gave us a second chance to make an ending that acknowledged many more of the players' choices, and was about as good as we could reasonably make given the decisions we'd already made. I felt a lot better about myself and us as a team after the EC came out.”

Hepler explains that fans had observed several hints throughout the trilogy that pointed in completely different directions. For example, there are aspects of the lore that actually lean towards the Citadel species allying with the Reapers in order to collectively tackle a dark energy anomaly, as opposed to the Reapers remaining as the Big Bad right up until credits roll. Hepler confirms that there are explicit lore details that lean into this idea, but that he never personally heard about capitalizing on them. Remember, this is coming from the Mass Effect loremaster - if he says there is lore to back up a dark energy anomaly that only the Reapers can save us from, it certainly exists.

“Now, what would I have done?” Hepler asks. “I wouldn't have done space magic at all. I planned to write three Codex entries on the Crucible rather than one, reflecting on what scientists think it is at first, what it appears to be once construction has really made progress, and a third detailing how it will kill the Reapers, readable right before you return to Earth.”

Hepler explains that he wanted to take inspiration from Nancy Kress’ novel, Probability Moon, in order to have the Crucible use a strong nuclear force as a weapon. Kress’ superweapon is designed to create a massive burst of energy that is completely harmless for objects that have a low atomic weight, like organic flesh made of carbon chains. This means that the vast majority of Citadel species would be virtually unaffected by a blast from this weapon.

Objects with a much higher atomic number, however, would be annihilated by the beam. This weapon is constructed in such a way that it emits life-killing radiation for anything made up of heavy metals. “So cybernetic creatures like the Reapers and husks would have their organic parts fried because they're right next to the heavy metals, but the organic creatures a safe distance away, like a civilian population, would be just fine,” Hepler says.

“The rebuilt Shepard, who had a fair bit of cybernetics, would die heroically, but that was always likely to be on the cards. In talking with Ann Lemay, another writer on the project, we theorized that the metal most likely to be the atomic weight cut-off-point was niobium, which today is used in piercings and surgical implants because it doesn't rust and you can embed it in flesh without ill effects. It's even blue when exposed to oxygen, like the glowing blue husks we've been fighting since [the first] Mass Effect. So it would make sense as a building block for the Reapers and their ultimate weakness.”

So, what happened? Unfortunately, Hepler never got to pitch his ending. The design leads moved lightning quick with their Destroy/Control/Synthesis trifecta, to the point that the whole premise had been approved before Hepler even got around to finishing his second Codex entry. As a result, he hadn’t got a full description of how this pertained to the entire galaxy yet - although looking at it now, it could have borrowed from the best bits of each ending. The Reapers would be neutralized, but the tech would be there. Given that Mass Effect is largely about the coexistence of humans and cybernetic creatures, it would also have had an impact on other aspects of the universe - what would happen to EDI?

“I [also] had some concern that Nancy Kress might notice and sue us if I didn't do my homework,” Hepler says. “And there was no time to do that homework, which would be me telling all the leads to hold off for a week while I exchanged a crap-ton of emails with my subject matter experts. ‘Sufficiently advanced technology indistinguishable from magic’ was far easier and had much more project momentum. “I recycled some of the strong-force-as-a-weapon tech into the Reaper infantry weapon, the Blackstar. In retrospect, I wish I'd spoken up more, or thought it all out faster, but them's the breaks.”

As well as Hepler’s own ending - which obviously never made it into the final game, despite sounding as if it had a lot more hard science behind it - Hepler is a big fan of the popular Indoctrination Theory. However, he was pretty open about the fact that this wasn’t something BioWare consciously designed.

“The Indoctrination Theory is a really interesting theory, but it's entirely created by the fans,” Hepler says. “While we made some of the ending a little trippy because Shepard is a breath away from dying and it's entirely possible there's some subconscious power to the kid's words, we never had the sort of meetings you'd need to have to properly seed it through the game.

“We weren't that smart. By all means, make mods and write fanfic about it, and enjoy whatever floats your boat, because it's a cool way to interpret the game. But it wasn't our intention. We didn't write that.”

[source]

[planned-planethood]

A list of things to be excited about in space exploration

In space science and exploration, things tend to move slowly. That is, until they don't. It is easy to lose perspective on exactly what is possible when the right people are providing the right support for exploration initiatives.

With significant advances in rocket technology, ambitious programs from one administration being continued by the next (THANK YOU, finally!) and funding for NASA at an all time high there are some exciting things coming up not just in our lifetimes, but possibly in the next few years for some of these. Here is a list of things that could actually happen which will make your imagination go wild:

- The Artemis program: the Artemis program was started in 2017. For years there has been intense debate about whether or not we should be returning to the Moon or sending astronauts to Mars. This debate, it seems, has finally ended. When President Biden determined to continue to support the previous administration's goals to return Americans to the Moon, all remaining opposition evaporated as the space-science community wants to simply conduct human exploration missions again regardless of the destination. Now, with essentially unified support and bipartisan political capital, the Artemis program looks extremely likely to survive.

It's more than just a return to the Moon though. We will be building a new space station called the Lunar Gateway. Gateway will orbit around the Moon and provide NASA with a way station from which SpaceX rocket ships will ferry astronauts to the Lunar surface. At this point, what happens next becomes a little more nebulous. NASA is currently researching the feasibility of founding a permanent colony on the Moon on the South Pole (I also have some things to say about this landing site in the future that I can't talk about right now, but resources could be slightly more plentiful than is known currently).

The target year for human feet to stand on the Moon again is no farther than the year 2024. This timeline can and probably will slip, but it's currently unlikely to slip significantly. Before the year 2030, we're highly likely to be inhabiting the Moon again, this time, with no intention of leaving. The Artemis program will aim to develop a lunar economy as a way of incentivizing both more public and private investing in lunar exploration.

One thing that I'm personally happy about is that with with rockets finally becoming cheaper to use, and spacecraft working autonomously now most of the time, it is predicted that the number of astronauts required to be experimental aircraft pilots from the military will probably go down. Let's send some more geologists to the Moon!

Oh and by the way, since I mentioned way stations earlier...

- Astronauts on Mars: This has been the holy grail-goal of space exploration since humanity has realized Mars was another planet. NASA's Artemis program is designed to not simply be a lunar program. The goal isn't just to create a lunar economy: the goal of the Artemis program is to create a sustainable lunar presence so that the Moon can be used as a way station for much deeper space exploration. The idea is that with easier access to the lunar surface, NASA will be able to rapidly run tests and develop technologies that we would need to embark on what could be the most treacherous and epic human exploration adventure in history. It would also be fantastic logistical support to a potential permanent or semi-permanent colony on Mars.

... and NASA may not even get there first.

SpaceX, eager to showcase their own Starship, is currently planning a human mission to Mars in 2026. Humans have never trod on another planet before. This event, whether done by SpaceX, NASA, or any other entity, would be one of the greatest accomplishments in human history. It would hopefully mark the dawning of a new era in human civilization, for the betterment of us all.

- Venus: It's been decades since NASA has sent a mission to Venus. The number of Venus experts has gradually dwindled, and now we are in danger of all of them retiring out of planetary science before their knowledge can actually be passed on. Thankfully, NASA just announced two separate missions to Venus to investigate basically everything you can possibly imagine. DAVINCI+ will send a lander to the surface and VERITAS will orbit the planet and map the surface in high resolution for the first time. We don't really know what sort of surprises this incredible world holds in store for us. It may be that we find a planet full of active volcanism, and evidence that long ago it was habitable for life as we know it.

Astrobiologists have recently begun paying even closer attention to this planet as there have been some interesting signs that, and I say this cautiously, Venus may have biosignatures. Ultimately, it's an entire planet, our neighbor, and we are going to see incredible images, and learn so much about planets, how they form, evolve, and improve our understanding of how easily a terrestrial world can become habitable. Both missions launch this decade.

- The Search for Life: There's been a veritable revolution in exoplanet hunting over the last decade. Missions like Kepler have provided us with mind-boggling amounts of data to go through, much of which has led to the discovery of so-called exoplanets, planets in other star systems. Right now we are closing in on approximately 5000 confirmed exoplanets.

It's almost impossible to mention exoplanets without immediately breaking into the subject of habitable zones. The fact of the matter is that we're well into the numbers game that one day, will turn up something stunning that will change humanity forever. In my opinion, it's a matter of time. With the rate of exoplanet detections growing rapidly, it seems like a matter of rapidly shrinking time before we come across a truth that, if it is out there, will reveal itself.

Scientists are currently studying a relativistic telescope concept which would make use of the light-bending properties of relativity, combined with the mass of the Sun, to warp light in such a way that it magnifies the image of whatever is in the warped light. Such a telescope could reveal surface details of an exoplanet: if there are oceans, we would be able to resolve them. Same to mountain ranges. City lights.

Whatever the truth is, it may be difficult to hide from the astronomers of Earth for much longer as our sight has officially pierced the interstellar veil and active searches for signs of life outside the Solar System have absolutely begun.

Breakthrough Starshot is a mission concept that would actually send a small spacecraft to our nearest stellar neighbor, Proxima Centauri. Around this star is an exoplanet: Proxima Centauri b. What would a flyby mission see on this mystery planet? Right now, we have no idea. Proxima Centauri b orbits in its star's habitable zone. Unfortunately, if this mission ultimately makes it off the ground, it would take in the range of 30 years to reach its destination and send its photographs back. Fortunately, that's within most of our naturally remaining lifetimes. I think it's worth the wait.

We won't be waiting idly however. Right here in our very Solar System, we are closing in on a number of ways in which the idea of a habitable zone can be played around with. Icy moons around places like Jupiter and Saturn have seriously reopened questions of where life-as-we-know-it could live. Queue the discovery of the ecosystems living around hydrothermal vents at the bottom of the lightless oceans of Earth. Diverse communities of never-before-seen creatures were living entirely without sunlight being involved at any point in their ecosystem.

Scientists now believe hydrothermal vents exist on moons like Europa and Enceladus, inside liquid water oceans, hidden under the ice. In a few years, NASA is launching a mission to fly around Europa. Perhaps it well get a chance to fly through one of the erupting geysers and take a look around. A mission to land on the surface is being designed as we speak to be proposed to NASA.

Never in human history, written and unwritten, have we realistically had to contend with the idea of knowing the Truth (as Mulder puts it). Well, contend away folks. We might not be wondering for a whole lot longer. Things might move slowly, until they don't.

Space exploration has never been boring, but we are without a doubt entering a golden age for space science and exploration.

(Image credit: Steve Jurvetson~NASA~NASA/JPL-Caltech~ESO/M. Kornmesser respectively)

[todoscript]

Syndicate — [ 1 ]

Parts | one ; two ; three

Genre | Mafia AU / Anti-Villain AU.

Pairing(s) | MafiaBosses!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Rating | Mature

Words | 5.2k+

Summary | Being the lover of, not one, but three influential young men, who are the leaders of the most wanted crime syndicate in Japan, it is no surprise that other eyes are watching you beyond the three’s own.

Warnings | Violence. Cursing/crude language. Guns. Mafia talk/“negotiating”. Lots of fighting. Reader is inspired by the femme fatale archetype. Polyamorous relationship. Characters are aged-up. Sexual undertones/implied sexual content. Possessiveness. Heavily self-indulgent. Written in 3rd POV. Shouto’s “codename” is Mercury (b/c the planet is both half-hot and half-cold lol).

Author’s Notes | Hello all! This is the first ever fanfic I’ve posted on tumblr! Sorry, the idea was lingering in my head until I suddenly felt the burst of energy to start writing this out of nowhere in the dead of 3AM. I’ve written fanfiction before but I’ve never published anything for tumblr so this is exciting.

The air is still, nearly silent apart from the nocturnal creatures that scurry and prowl through alleys, navigating over the dewy darkness between the seams. The moon graces the gloom of the night with its luster across desolated areas in Japan. Business hours have longed past as services are halted until the next coming day. Civilians are nowhere to be found, tucked away in their homes with their lights flickered off.

What remains alive in Japan during this hour is the wind cast through the streets, the scamper of animals in the nocturne, and a low hum of an ebony vehicle driven down roads of street lights.

“Whatever the fuck Overhaul wants better be worth my fucking time, Deku,” hisses a peeved Katsuki Bakugou, leaning against the window of their sleek automobile and looking highly uninterested during the ride. Izuku Midoriya, the young man with the head of unruly verdant hair, nods his head. His expression is mild at his friend’s usual discontented tone.

“Kai Chisaki—the head boss of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza—wants to negotiate with us, Kacchan. Surely it would be advantageous for us to hear him out. If anything we’ll manage to at least squeak some intel from him to reference for later on.” A glint rises in the male’s eyes.

“‘Some intel’ ain’t enough. If they’re gonna drag all three of us out here, then it better be for something good, or else I might have to let off some explosions to satisfy my boredom.” Bakugou’s quirk begins to pop and crack around his palms at the idea of letting loose.

Shouto Todoroki—the third of the trio—sighs exasperatingly at his fellow inflamed mafia boss, running his hand through his red and white tresses.

“Bakugou, I’d advise against it. Knowing the location we’re heading to, your explosions would only cause a ruckus in the area that’d get the annoying heroes involved. I’ve had enough dealing with those fools as it is and we also don’t need the men in blue following after our trail.”

“Shut up Icy-Hot! If this ‘negotiation’ isn’t beneficial to us, I’ll find my own way to make them pay for wasting our damn time!” Bakugou yells.

These three young men—Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Shouto Todoroki—are known as the bosses of one of Japan’s most powerful organized crime syndicates.

Notorious, ruthless, and authoritative, these three, despite their youth, have secured a name for themselves within the underground crime world. Aside from their tenacity and skill, the strength of each of their quirks played a large factor in their rise among the rivaling crime groups. They easily snuffed out the weak competition without so much as a sweat, and working under them are other strong combatants, each of them possessing their own unique and powerful quirks.

With everything at their disposal, the Yuuei mafia group quickly obtained a vast, large territory within the capital of Japan—the epicenter of where all the shady deals and disputes occur.

“We didn’t even bring Angel Face with us. What a drag.” Bakugou gruffs. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed, and cushioned behind his head as the lamps flicker past them, the dim lights splayed across the endless road.

“Letting ____ rest was the least we could do after her successful infiltration at the political officials gala,” the middle of the three states matter-a-factly.

“Especially after the rounds she endured even after her mission,” Todoroki adds, vividly remembering the gala dress cascading down her skin and clinging to her body that night, as well as their antics that ensued afterward.

He recalls the beautiful, red formal gown she wore for the occasion, the material hugging her figure perfectly and accentuating her curves in all the right places. God, he prayed that something within him wouldn’t stir at the thought of it again.

They all remembered it quite clearly. It made their fingers itch the very evening of the event, yearning to touch all the dips and arcs that sculpted her body. Her hair, styled up and tied with a matching silk red ribbon, kept the skin of her neck bare and begging to be marked while gold lined her wrists and collar bones. To say she was a goddess that night would be an understatement. The three could barely keep their hands off her before she even left the mansion, let alone attend the gala. But once her mission was complete, she arrived home to be thoroughly loved and lusted, with three young and hungry men indulging in all the divine fruits this celestial being had to offer to them.

The girl they speak of is not only their right-hand woman but also the three’s beloved paramour. Since their journey into coming to power, ____ has been with them through thick and thin and has become an influential asset in attaining their position.

Beautiful, yet dangerous, she proved to be an incredibly powerful fighter in many forms of combat in combination with her quirk, along with having a gift for deception that allowed her to climb her way to the top of the pack. Naturally, the trio found themselves drawn to her, not just for her strength and beauty, but also her passion and ability to mend the spirits of those around her. If it weren’t her, the Yuuei mafia group would not be as intact and well-oiled as it is today.

“Besides, we have some of our best following in the car behind us in case anything suspicious happens,” Midoriya gestures to the similar-looking sleek and dark-tinted car trailing behind their own.

“I very much doubt we need them, but it’s best not to worry Angel too much while she’s resting,” Todoroki murmurs, crossing his legs.

A few more turns and they’ve eventually entered the area of a vacant warehouse located on the edge of Japan near the shore.

The moment their vehicle is directed to a stop, the three bosses exit. Bakugou vehemently slams his door, eyeing the building with a vexing glare.

“Let’s get this shit show over with. This better be good.”

The warehouse is eerily quiet in the dead of the night and smells of salt from the ocean behind it. Spotting them walking to the entrance, the watchmen of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza hastily open the doors enclosing the warehouse. The hinges bear an uncomfortable creaking sound that jars through the silence.

“Oh, he’s here! He’s here! My cute little Izuku is here!” hollers a shrill voice belonging to an all-too-energetic head of messy, bunned-up blonde hair. The said boy blinks twice at her enthusiasm as they approach the lone wooden table situated in the center of the warehouse.

Uh, do I know her? He ponders for a second before dismissing the thought.

A pale man with gloved hands and shaggy auburn hair holds a hand out to halt the girl behind him. “Calm down Toga, we haven’t spoken of negotiations yet, so I need you to be quiet.”

Toga pouts, nearly grasping a silver blade at her side but stills herself for now. In the meantime, she opts to fidget with the tubular machine wrapped around her body.

The three look up to view a small group illuminated by the light fixed above the wooden table. Their eyes swiftly count seven or eight of them surrounding that area, including the ringleader, and likely more hidden somewhere in the darkness around them. After all, any fine and experienced villainous group would know better than to invite the bosses of the most dangerous crime syndicate without being thoroughly prepared for a possible scuffle to occur.

However, for now, they all advance with the notion to talk first before unleashing quirks and violence (well most of them anyway).

“Welcome, welcome. I see you made it to this place without much trouble; you’re right on time,” Overhaul greets the three young men mildly, “Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury.”

Midoriya walks forward as the center of their entourage to return the cordial greeting. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you, Kai Chisaki of the Shie Hassaikai yakuza. Otherwise known as Overhaul.”

“Ah, so you know of me and my cause. It seems our reputation precedes us.”

“Of course. The Shie Hassaikai yakuza has long been in business in the crime world…” Midoriya muses, “Though they’ve wrung out past their former glory. Having since been pushed back into the underground after the rise of heroes.”

Bakugou smirks, close to letting out a snicker at the backhanded comment.

It’s true. While the Shie Hassaikai were one of the main criminal groups running the yakuza underground, that all soon fell and crumbled as the surge of heroes came into society. It was only after the former boss’ grandson, Kai Chisaki, came into power and took leadership that their name grew back into prominence once again, albeit little by little.

“Why you little–” A man donning a long white raincoat and plague doctor mask swiftly appears with a pistol pointed in Midoriya’s direction, none too amused by the remark. However, he’s cut off by a wall of ice erected at Midoriya’s side.

“Watch where you point those toys you little rat,” Todoroki sneers, and the tone of his voice nearly exposes chills to the air.

“Calm down, Chrono. We’re the ones that invited them as guests, thus we need to treat them like so.”

The white-haired subordinate withdraws at the words of his leader, retracting the gun back into the pocket of his coat.

“I apologize, he’s simply on edge over the fact we have some pretty powerful people at our doorstep. You’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s quite all–”

“Did we come here to talk, or did we come here to fight?” Bakugou barges through, shoving past Midoriya with no restraint.

“I thought this was a fucking negotiation, not an apology fess. If one of your dogs is so edgy, I’d be happy to give him a good thrashing to satiate him if you want,” his raised hand sparks and flickers in the dark, “If not then get to it, Overhaul,” he threatens. Midoriya sighs.

“I think we’re simply all… piqued as to why this meeting was demanded out of nowhere and scheduled for the dead of the night no less, but I’m sure you have some important matters to discuss with us right, Overhaul?” Midoriya reasons, a sly grin on his lips.

“Right, let's get to it shall we?” Approaching closer to the table separating them, Overhaul continues, “First off, I must congratulate you on successfully infiltrating that gala the other night. Not many crime organizations can sneak into a party of that caliber. Especially when it’s so heavily guarded and kept secretive to all suspicious eyes of the dark,” he commends, digging a hand into the pocket of his jacket.

The three exchange quick, wary glances from the corner of their eyes that the opposite party misses.

“You were there?” Todoroki questions bluntly in which Overhaul hums in response.

“Hm, yes. But for different reasons, I’m sure. You see, I’ve been… examining little details of the Yuuei mafia group recently. It fascinates me how well-oiled and efficient you are at running your organization, so I began to ponder: ‘How do they do it?’ Little did I know, the answer all became more than clear to me from what I saw at that gala,” the auburn-haired man drawls, finally plucking out a photo from his pocket and sliding it across the wood under the light.

The moment the three recognized the image, their eyes widened, soon shifting into visages of sheer hostility at the next statement pronounced.

“This girl here? I want her.”

Within the confines of the paper is ____, dressed in the red gown she wore the very night of the gala, a masquerade mask over her features with the purpose to obscure herself in the throng.

The three before Overhaul seethe vessels of wrath.

“What did you just say? Do you even know what you’re asking of us?” Todoroki feels icy and heated atmospheres form on his opposing left and right sides upon hearing Overhaul’s words, sensing the tension rising around his fellow partners as well.

“The girl, I must say, does excellent work at her job. She’s skilled and tactical, having infiltrated many influential organizations and assassinated several powerful faces getting in the way of your mafia group. Such precision, efficiency, and beauty makes her the perfect woman, wouldn’t you agree?” He picks up the picture, bringing it up next to him.

Given the deadly pressure in the air, the next words he utters might be the final nail in his coffin.

“Well, I want you to hand her over to me.”

The nail is hit. There’s a lingering silence before hell nearly breaks loose and the next motions could deliver his soul down the River of Styx.

Fueled by blood-boiling anger and annoyance, Bakugou charges forward to land an explosive hit on the yakuza boss. “LIKE HELL WE WOULD, YA FUCKING BASTARD!” He’s thwarted by a yellow barrier emerging to shield the leader from the attack, courtesy of a henchman at his left side. The blonde jumps back, his hands still crackling and his rage not dissipating anytime soon. “Don’t go spewing a bunch of shit outta your mouth!”

“Now… let’s be rational or you’ll start getting dirt everywhere...” Overhaul dusts off his shoulder before resuming the conversation nonchalantly, “Of course I’ll provide you with compensation. I wouldn’t be so naive as to expect to be given something so valuable without offering payment after all.”

With a snap of his fingers a large, bulky man promptly lays a silver briefcase on the table. The locks click open to reveal wads of cash layering the case to the brim, enough to flabbergast and entice any common citizen in Japan.

“If this amount isn’t enough, I have another briefcase with—”

A jolting sound of the wooden table and metal briefcase breaking beneath Midoriya’s foot is enough to diminish the rest of Overhaul’s remark, signifying their blunt answer to his offer.

“What a waste of a night it’s been. Presenting money to us in hopes that we’d simply hand over our beloved like she’s some prostitute for sale? You're more of a fool than I took you for, Kai Chisaki,” Each word that rolls off Midoriya’s tongue is laced with venom. Such malice is enough to paralyze those who hear it, as if it would be the last statement they’ll ever listen to before hitting the concrete dead.

Reasoning with the trio any further is equivalent to bargaining with the god of the underworld, offering nothing but your knees on the floor and a sad pleading voice, only to be whisked back to the deepest, darkest chambers of hell.

Overhaul simply pauses before following with a long, testy sigh.

“A no then? Alright. Toga.”

The bun-headed blonde pounces forward at the command almost instantaneously, knife in her grasp and ready to swing. Midoriya moves to the side with ease, evading the blade as well as dodging a puncture from a needle. His agility is manifested in green electric currents of aura.

“Ooh, I finally get to cut up and obtain cute Izuku’s yummy blood!” She grins psychotically, keeping both eyes trained on the green-haired boy. “Heehee, I’ve been waiting for this day! Ever since I saw that photo of you all bruised up in a fight, I had to have you all to myself! I just love a man all red and bloodied!” Toga exclaims in utter glee, giggling like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity idol.

Midoriya grimaces, nearly shivering at her excitement over announcing her neurotic confession to him. Her contorted facade is not earning her any points either. Taking notice of the wary expression that crosses his brows, Toga grins wider.

“It’s OK, even if you don’t like me now, you’ll definitely like me when I get a drop of that girl’s blood and transform into her! We’ll look so much alike, you’ll have heart-eyes for me too!” Her features curve into a look of pure hysteric that leaves Midoriya speechless, so much so it takes a loud blast hurled past him to finally bring his senses back to the conflict.

“Move it, Deku!” Bakugou’s attacks are relentless and powerful, but Toga’s nimbleness prevents her from getting hit.

“Deku, Ground Zero, back up,” Todoroki raises his left hand, the corresponding side flaring with heat before quickly igniting into bright hot flames enough to cover his entire arm. “You lot have some nerve to call us and arrange this abhorrent deal under the guise of a ‘negotiation.’ I’ll incinerate you all for even thinking you could take her from us.”

His quirk is unleashed in a flurry of fire that’s launched toward his enemies.

“Dabi,” Overhaul signals and a lanky man with patched, burnt scars and skin held together by staples and stitches steps forward, triggering his blue blazes to combat the red-orange ones. The infernos collide into a firestorm that soon scatters and disperses due to a power struggle.

“Tch,” Todoroki narrows his brows, annoyed.

“Hm, the brat’s not all talk after all,” Dabi’s expression remains stoic while his hand hovers in front of him, still swallowed by his azure flames. Wordlessly he releases his blazes once more only to be countered by Todoroki’s wall of ice diminishing the onslaught of fire.

On their end, Midoriya and Bakugou are in pursuit of the head honcho Overhaul himself, while attempting to throw blows at Toga along the way.

Now enveloped in energy that increases his strength and dexterity tenfold, it isn’t long until the green-haired young man catches up to crafty Toga’s momentum. With a grunt, Midoriya kicks forward, swinging his foot into the girl’s direction with tremendous force that’s too quick for her to avoid.

Toga braces herself for the impact but the attack never meets. Instead, a yellow shield materializes in front of her to take the blow, a crack now evident on the surface of the saffron safeguard. “Oooh! Izuku’s really out for blood! How thrilling!” she squeals, licking her lips.

“It’s that fucking barrier bastard again! Move over, I’ll kill him!” yells a pissed Bakugou who jumps over Midoriya’s head, running across the top of the manifested barrier. From there, he spots his offender.

Gritting his teeth, he dashes off the shield before it can disappear and uses it to propel himself forward. His palms glow and envelope themselves with heat as he holds them outward.

“Rappa! I can’t conduct another shield so quickly, get him!” Tengai, the one with the barrier quirk, hastens his partner. Rappa zealously swoops in front of him with iron-knuckle gloves ready.

“Oh no, you don’t! Try and fucking dodge this!” Bakugou brings his hands forward while still in midair, “Stun Grenade!” A radiant, gleaming light emits from his palms, effectively blinding all those within his vicinity.

Rappa and Tengai have no choice but to cover their eyes from the intensity of the light, leaving them wide open to strike!

Without hesitation, the ash-blonde creates two more explosions to launch himself forward, spinning in the air and gathering momentum before firing his attack encased in an explosive tornado.

“Howitzer Impact!!”

In an instance, a flash exudes in a fiery burst of nuclear reaction, which releases violent discharges of kinetic energy towards his enemies. The attack hits home, covering a chuck of the area with debris and rubble, and producing a hole on the right side of the warehouse.

Tengai and Rappa are incapacitated.

“Kac— Ground Zero, you went all out didn’t you…” Midoriya mutters while holding Toga down despite all her fidgeting. In a last-ditch effort, the girl draws out the spare knife tucked away in her utility belt, however the young man on top of her knocks it away before she can react any further.

“Toga, am I correct? I suggest you stand down, or I may have to break something to make you cooperate.” Midoriya’s warning exudes a menacing tone, in contrast to his former courteous character and the gentle features adorning his face. Yet Toga does not seem fazed by this.

“Heehee, you’re so cute when you make threats like that…” she giggles, shifting her head ever so slightly to catch glimpses of the male’s appearance. He’s quite disheveled down to his wrinkled suit, unbuttoned collar, sweat glistening on his forehead, and what’s this?

Toga peeks at a single crimson line split on the skin of his cheek with dilated pupils.

“Even though you were so fast, I at least managed to graze you just a teeny-tiny bit! That scarlet cut looks so nice on you, Izuku, aw how I wish I can give you more!” She prattles on and on, beaming over every utterance spoken past her lips. “I did say red is the best color on you, after all!”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow at her behavior, fists clenched and apt to deliver a silencing blow.

“Although… blue wouldn’t look half bad either.”

Unable to express confusion at her remark, he soon perceives a blast of cerulean blue flames aimed and released in his direction, forcing him to jump up to dodge the attack. Toga makes her escape after the fire diffuses, withdrawing next to Dabi. The patched man continues his onslaught on Todoroki and Midoriya.

“They’ve managed to defeat our spear and shield, and nearly took out Toga,” Overhaul’s stance is methodical and calculating, overseeing the fight from the back lines of his unit with a gloved hand beneath his chin. “I suppose it’s time to use that,” he declares.

Chrono briefly glances at him before reaching for a gun in the pocket of his coat—a different weapon from the pistol he pointed at Midoriya earlier. In a container held behind him, he produces a peculiarly shaped bullet, one that takes on the form of a cartridge with a hypodermic needle sticking out on one end.

“Dabi, when these bullets hit, that will be your chance to burn them all away,” orders the auburn-haired man. He raises an arm to prep for the signal as Chrono readies the gun wielded in his hand, positioning his target onto the spiky blonde mafia boss.

“Ha! You think a pathetic little gun is going to stop me?!” While Bakugou exudes confidence and arrogance, his dual-haired comrade is not as keen about the situation at hand.

Why would those fools try to use such a primitive method of fighting at this point? They saw how useless that gun was earlier… ponders Todoroki in the heat of battle, Unless…

“Ground Zero! Be careful! There’s something fishy about that weapon they’re using!” he warns, making the blonde’s expression fix into an irritated glare.

“Shut up Icy-Hot; I know what I’m doing! Why don’t you pay attention to patchwork over there before you get another scar!” Bakugou quips back, eyes never leaving Overhaul. “I’m gonna make this washout yakuza leader regret ever giving us a call to this useless negotiation.”

The man is impassive at the blonde’s threats, lips remaining in a fine line underneath his mask. His arm stays raised next to him for Chrono to acknowledge.

At once, Bakugou’s body launches back into action like a jet engine propelling a rocket. His movements gather more and more sweat to strengthen himself for another devastating assault.

“Pesky thing won’t stop moving…” mutters Chrono, hand continually shifting aim at Bakugou’s unpredictable tumbling. “I’ll just make you sit still!”

On command, arrow-shaped hair pierces through the fabric of his hood and extends straight to Bakugou. His quirk’s versatility and quick instincts allow him to evade the attack to the left with ease. However, it seems Chrono was waiting for that very moment as the blonde is now within his gun’s line of sight.

Overhaul draws his hand down, giving Chrono the signal to finally pull the trigger. A crack of a sonic boom resonates within the single millisecond it is shot. The dart is fired.

The gunshot rings throughout the space of the warehouse. Todoroki and Midoriya can barely register the shot in time to yell out to Bakugou, whose head turns toward the capsule’s velocity in almost slow motion.

Crap..! he curses, unable to move away to escape the bullet in time and preparing to embrace the shot.

However, it never makes its mark.

“Boss! Watch out!”

A gruff voice suddenly makes its debut within the fray, taking everyone by surprise as the newcomer throws himself in front of Bakugou, hardened arms crossed.

“What the—!”

Chrono watches in despair. The bullet ricochets right off the rock-like body of a man with spiked tufts of crimson red hair.

“What the hell? Red Riot?!” sputters a bewildered Bakugou at Kirishima’s abrupt entrance.

“D-Dammit!” Chrono tries to fire again to rectify his failure, but his attempt is in vain. Something muscly wraps around his arm tightly, tossing him away.

“Froppy!” Midoriya calls out to the girl as she retracts her froggy tongue, currently clung to the wall, and camouflaged into her surroundings. She reveals herself into the battle with a small “ribbit.”

“While you guys were inside, a bunch of their goons started surrounding our cars. We knew something shady was up, especially when we heard explosions coming from inside, so we busted our way in here right past them!” Kirishima explains, now standing back-to-back against Bakugou, “Seems like you’re fighting a battle too!”

“I see, so they planned on ambushing all of us if we didn’t comply with their deal,” says Todoroki. He fires more flames in their direction. “How pathetic. They were woefully unprepared.”

“Agreed! Ambushing is no way to fight! Real men would come at us head-on!” Kirishima emphasizes his fierceness through clanking his hardened fists against each other, jagged edges sparking.

“Red Riot! Froppy!” exclaims Midoriya, “Where are the others?”

Asui ribbits before answering, “They’re handling the rest of the—”

“L-Leader..! Leader!” a frantic voice shouts from the entrance of the warehouse, where a ragged up Shie Hassaikai henchman tries to pry inside.

“T-The girl..! She isn’t h-here, she isn’t— GAH!”

His message is interrupted. A menacing shadowy figure looms over the goon like a monster hiding within the dark and throws him back to the struggle outside, proceeding to rampage across the battlefield. Desperate cries leak out but to no avail.

Overhaul discerns the sputtered message:

The girl he so desired was not with them to begin with.

To his dismay, this fight was pointless. If what he sought could not be forcibly taken right then and there, then there is no reason to continue the battle. There was no prize to be won by the end of it all.

Now, he must adjust his plans due to the unfavorable news. How tragic.

At the thought of having lost time, energy, and resources, the yakuza leader pinches the bridge of his nose, utterly furious. There’s a pause in which Overhaul seethes an aura of killing intent over this frustration.

But it eventually simmers and subsides. What happens now cannot be changed, no matter how enraged he is. So he must take logical steps to preserve and remedy the repercussions, which to him was simple:

“We’re withdrawing.”

“What?” Dabi looks at him incredulously, “After all this?”

“Yes, they've taken down our spear and shield, and have wiped out the majority of the soldiers. If what we want isn’t here, then there is no point in staying,” Overhaul’s husky tone bears weight and authority at every word.

“Nemoto, grab Chrono from wherever he was thrown.”

“Yes, Overhaul. What about Rappa and Tengai?”

The auburn-haired man doesn’t so much as spare a glance toward his two defeated subordinates lying on the ground, “Leave them. They’re expendable to me.”

Nemoto nods, going to gather a knocked out Chrono thrown across the warehouse and now lying unconscious atop broken wooden crates.

Midoriya’s fists clenched tightly at the scene, realizing what the yakuza’s next plan of action was going to be.

“They’re trying to escape!”

“Oh, the fuck they are. I won’t let a single one of you bastards leave!” Bakugou bursts into the air, propelled by the explosions from his palms in hot pursuit, with Midoriya catching up thanks to his heightened speeds.

“Sorry boys, party’s over!” Toga intercepts the two using twin knives flung in their direction, catching them off guard. Dabi follows the diversion by gathering a massive amount of flames into his hands before swiftly releasing the kindled energy to erect a blue wall of fire throughout his surroundings.

“Bye Izuku~!” a feminine voice shrills from behind the fiery wall, becoming the last words they hear as they wait for the flames to dissipate, ultimately revealing that their enemies had already fled.

“Those fuckers couldn’t have gone far,” Bakugou doesn’t relent, poised on finding them and having them pay the full consequences of their actions. Midoriya grasps his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let them go, Kacchan. Considering the location they decided for this meeting, they likely fled by boat. We have no way of following them at the moment.”

Todoroki agrees, adding on, “Besides, there are more important things to worry about right now,” he casts his gaze to the wooden table Midoriya had broken prior to the fight transpiring. “For one, they’re after ____ and are willing to go to any lengths to get her. We need to head back to the mansion to make sure she’s safe.” There’s slight urgency evident in his tone. Despite their tenacity, the idea of having their beloved wrenched away is enough to render them even a little bit fearful. Had she been present in the conflict, there’s no telling what could have happened.

“And two,” Todoroki walks off to another site of the warehouse, picking up something dropped on the floor, “we need to figure out what this is.” In his hand, he holds the small capsule bullet that is now slightly dented thanks to the impact against Kirishima’s hardened skin.

The other two examine the capsule briefly until Bakugou decides to take it from Todoroki’s fingers for closer inspection. If Overhaul was so keen on using a gun to do away with them all, despite how inferior it was, then this must be no ordinary bullet.

The three decide to contain the item for further examination for now as they, Kirishima, and Asui make their way outside again. There, bodies of Shie Hassaikai thugs littered the floor after having been thoroughly beaten into submission. Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, Uraraka, and Kaminari lean against the cars casually but remain attentive after the fight.

“It was quite an ill-planned move to dare to attack us in the night,” Tokoyami’s eyes closed in thought at the havoc he wreaked thanks to the amplified powers of his quirk. Kaminari snickers and boasts with an electric snap of his fingers, “Yakuza didn’t know what hit them, the mafia always stays on top.”

“Excellent work everyone, it seems the henchmen were of no trouble to you,” Midoriya commends the squad, “Now, we must leave before the police arrive on the scene to assess the damage.”

Their six combatants all nod at the order, about to gather back in their vehicle until Bakugou huffs with a final statement before they make their getaway.

“Know that the next time we see those Shie Hassaikai bastards, we will take them down,” He narrows his eyes at the ocean, the moon still hanging above the sky and basking the waters in moonlight,

“without hesitation.”

Ending Notes | Whew.. thanks for reading! For the next part I was considering writing it in 2nd POV since the reader will actually be physically present during the events of the story now, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know your thoughts and follow if you’re interested in this series <3

[kristikinzel12]

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[morningfears]

Hiking

Rating: PG-13 (Language, mostly)

Summary: College!Luke and hiking for the 10k celebration. 

Word Count: 2.1k (...this was supposed to be a drabble, whoops)

“Tell me why we’re doing this again.”

You listened to the crunch of gravel beneath Luke’s feet, a signal that he was rounding the car to meet you at the trunk, and bit back a laugh as you reached for the extra water bottle you’d packed because you knew that he was going to forget his own. He’d been whining since you picked him up, a pout on his lips and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you knew that he’d stop the moment you truly got annoyed with him.

For now, though, you were enjoying making fun of him just as much as he was whining.

“It was my turn to pick our activity. I like to hike.” You pressed the bottle into his hands, a saccharine smile on your lips, before you closed the trunk and shrugged. “I also like to see you miserable.”

He turned his head toward you, bright blue eyes hidden by the sunglasses he’d snagged from you years ago, and scowled. “You owe me pancakes for this. It’s so early.”

“It’s nearly ten, Luke.” He waved a hand dismissively when you scoffed, unashamed of his status as the late riser in your friendship, and leaned against the car to take a sip of his water. “Don’t drink too much. If you puke on me, I will murder you. No one will find your body up here.”

Luke snorted at that, his hands moving to tighten the cap on his water bottle before he waved them at the nearly full parking area. “There are literally fifty other people on this trail right now. Someone would find me.”

“Shut up and start moving, yeah?”

Luke breathed an exaggerated sigh and made a show of dragging his feet, sending dust and rocks flying in his wake, but followed you toward the trail. He was joking - that much he made clear when he cracked a grin at your laughter - and you knew that he had no intentions of making the hike miserable for either of you. He was annoyed to be awake so early on his only day off but there was no one he’d rather spend the day with.

And, besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hiking with you.

The first time Luke went hiking with you, you were both freshmen in college and equally shy. You were a friend of a friend of a friend - Ashton was dating your roommate’s older sister - and had somehow gotten roped into going hiking with the group of them. It was Ashton’s idea, to drag all of you out to the middle of nowhere right before fall break, and Luke had only tagged along because Calum and Michael dragged him.

While you weren’t exactly the most social of the bunch, it was clear that you and Ashton were the only ones who’d actually hiked before. Whereas everyone else showed up in black, wearing various old band t-shirts and, in Michael’s bad judgement and mildly hungover case, jeans, the two of you wore actual gym gear and appropriate shoes. 

Luke quickly fell to the back of the pack, happy to be away from the chatter and the attention as he struggled up the mountain, and somewhere along the trip, you fell back with him. He knew that you were capable of beating them all up the mountain - and probably back down, if he had to wager a guess - but you kept pace with him and never even made a face at the sweat that made his t-shirt stick to his skin.

You were halfway up the mountain before either of you spoke - to everyone’s surprise, it was him; he complimented the All Time Low sticker on your water bottle - but it seemed as if neither of you knew how to shut up after that moment.

Your friendship formed quickly, bolstered by your commonalities and strengthened by your differences. If you weren’t in class or at work, you were at Luke’s. And if you weren’t there, the pair of you could usually be found elsewhere together.

When he moved into a frat house and you moved into an apartment, nothing changed. The brothers knew you, just as your roommates knew him, but your nearly nightly outings - to diners, to the movies, to the mall, to the park near campus - shifted to once a week activities that you took turns planning once you both delved deeper into your respective majors.

Luke was your best friend, just as you were his, and you were grateful for the strange hike that brought him into your life. That was, however, to everyone’s surprise, all that you were.

You had a small crush on Luke when you met - even drenched in sweat and struggling to keep himself upright, trudging up the side of a mountain he was cute - but the more you got to know him, the greater your crush grew. He was everything you’d always wanted, all wrapped in an adorable package, but you told yourself early on that you weren’t going to push; whatever happened with Luke, happened.

You knew, deep down, that Luke felt the same. You saw the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way he blushed when you complimented him or the way he grew flustered whenever anyone pointed out how cute the two of you would be together. Neither of you hid your feelings well but you were content to see where things went.

You always said that you’d rather have him in your life as just a friend than not at all.

Your line of thinking had recently undergone a bit of a shift. You were both approaching your senior year; two semesters away from the great unknown. Luke had plans to stay in the city and work for a record company. You were weighing your options to continue your education and considering leaving to give life elsewhere a shot.

It hurt, thinking that you’d be separated from Luke after so long of him being your only constant, but you knew that you either needed to make a move or move on.

“Alright, you haven’t said a word in almost a mile. Stop thinking, start talking.”

Luke’s words, said through huffs of air forced past his lips, broke you from your thoughts and you blinked when you noticed just how far down the trail you’d made it. You were glad you’d chosen one so familiar - the one you hiked the first time you met and found yourself returning to, time and time again - as you’d mostly relied on muscle memory to make it this far.

“Nothing to talk about. Just stressing over that Media Law final. Baker’s a dickhead and is going to make it unnecessarily difficult.” You knew that you should tell Luke the truth, spill your worries as you normally did, but you couldn’t force the words out.

It was easier this way, to continue on as you had for the past few years, and pretend that the heartache blossoming in your chest wasn’t real.

“Bullshit.” Luke stopped, nudged you to the side of the trail to let others pass, and met your eyes to search them. “That was your sad face. Baker gets the mad face. What’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course I do, Luke.” The words fell past your lips readily, confident and clear, because you knew that. You knew that you could talk to Luke about absolutely anything and he would be there to listen. You knew that he’d never judge or laugh, not if it was a serious discussion, and that helped calm the raging sea of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

But nothing could quell the ache that settled in your bones when he looked at you the way he was.

He had a habit of looking at you like you were the one who hung the stars and moon. His eyes, usually unfocused as he zoned out, were clear and bright and shining with an admiration that rolled off him in waves. Whenever he looked at you like that, right in the eye, he always had a hand on you in some way. This time, he had one hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek.

“What happens next May?”

Luke blinked, confused by the question. “Next May? After graduation?” When you nodded, your eyes flicking between his own and the sand beneath your feet, he shifted his weight and nodded slowly. “I’m staying here and you… You’re going to do something amazing. You might stay here, you might move to fucking Siberia. But whatever you do, you’re going to do it well because that’s just the kind of person you are, honey. You can’t half-ass anything, even if you try.”

Luke grinned when that got a small laugh but it was quickly replaced with a frown when you shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.” You trailed off, almost embarrassed to ask, before the words escaped your lips in a near whisper. “What happens to us?”

That was a question Luke had long considered. He, too, wondered what would happen to you both as you moved into the working world and farther away from one another. He wondered what would happen if you left the city. He wondered how he would continue on without seeing you every day.

And he realized that he didn’t want that.

“We’ll still be us,” he answered finally, his voice just as quiet as yours had been. “We’ll see each other every minute we can and if you decide to go somewhere else, we’ll FaceTime so much that we might as well just livestream our lives to each other. If you leave, I’ll come visit whenever I can and you know you’ll always have a place to stay with me if you want to come back. Nothing will change for us after graduation because I love you and I won’t let it.”

Before you could speak, before you could ask him if he really believed that was possible, Luke continued speaking.

“You know that I mean that in every sense of the word. You’re my best friend and I love you but you know that I also love you with a  capital ‘L’. Being friends with you is something I’d never change but I don’t want to spend our last guaranteed year together wondering what could be. I don’t want to just dream about kissing you, I want to actually kiss you. I want to wake up to you asking me to go hiking and kiss you to convince you to stay in bed. I want to hold your hand and wake up beside you every morning. I want to be the annoying couple everyone already thinks we are because it’s us. And it always has been.”

It felt as if a weight was lifted from your chest as Luke rambled, words spilling past his lips in a rush. He was passionate, certain, and braver than you ever could be. He took the first step, just when you were beginning to think neither of you would ever make it there, and the only way you could think to respond was with a kiss.

Pressing your lips to Luke’s didn’t send fireworks erupting across the sky nor did it feel as if the earth was going to shatter at your feet. It did, however, feel as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were wrapped in his arms, hands tangled in his curls, and nothing had ever felt more right.

You were upset that you’d wasted so much time, waiting for life to just happen. But, as you pulled away and rested your forehead against Luke’s, you decided that nothing else mattered anymore. The future, the one where you and Luke existed and everything else came as it would, was all that mattered.

Luke, with his bright grin and flushed cheeks, grabbed your hand and began tugging you back the way you’d come. With a laugh, you dug your heels into the ground and shook your head. “Nope. Finish hike first. Then, we go to my place and shower.”

“You’re going to make your boyfriend hike two more miles?”

“For every half mile you finish, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Make it every quarter and I get to touch your butt.”

“Shut up and start hiking, Hemmings.”

With another grin in your direction, Luke returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and kept his hand in yours as he tugged you along down the path. In the future, there would be more hikes and more kisses.

And neither of you could wait.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: ....there’s not as much hiking in this as I wanted but I got started and it, uh, had a mind of its own. Anyway, two fics in like a week? Who am I?

[misselko]

Got this idea from Dimitri’s conversation with Byleth before Fort Merceus battle with the Death Knight. Put some angst, fluff, and a pinch of smut spices into the dish and let it simmer down! At least, that’s what I want! But it turned out... different ;) Sorry not sorry

Please kindly leave some of your comments or ideas for my next fic! Your warm and loving words gives me energy to write more!!

RECKLESS

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence, a little smut

Words: 3316

 

POST TIMESKIP

Empire will be the only remaining enemy and to move on to the Imperial Capital, Enbarr, capturing Fort Merceus is a must. Praised as the strongest defense with its fortified military installation  in the Empire, seizing it won’t be an easy feat.

Liberating Arianrhod, calming down Holy Kingdom of Faerghus political issues, winning over the Leicester Alliance and gained their support. Getting a lead on Lady Rhea’s location. Although things were a rough go, but thinking back on it now, Blue Lions sure has really come a long way. Things have been wonderful in these past moons that it almost feels like dream too good to be true.

You don’t know why but you can’t shake your uneasy feelings and dread. War is raging and everyone knows there is a big battle on the horizon.

“We must not falter in our assault. The Death Knight is the enemy commander in Fort Merceus. He’s an unpredictable opponent. A dangerous one. Please proceed with caution, (Y/N).”

“I will, Dimitri. No need to worry.”

“I have not come this far just to lose you here. I’m serious. Do not be reckless out there.”

“Will you save me if I’m in trouble?”

“Of course, (Y/N). You were the heart of the Blue Lions, and the same holds true for the Kingdom Army.”

You smiled at his concern and hold his hands gently.

“I will do my best as well to support you, my Dimitri.” His cheeks turned into rosy blush at your words.

 

“Whoaa!! You’re getting pretty chummy, aren’t you, Your Highness? Go get a room!” Sylvain winks and got punched HARD, dragged away by Ingrid. You make mental notes on giving her a delicious roasted meat from that famous new shop in the town later as your gratitude. Serves him right!! ...But you wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. Everything will be alright with them. Blue Lions are your precious family. It will be fine. Everything will be fine.

---

Capturing Fort Merceus is a daunting task. Endless enemies are approaching and relentless. Felix and Sylvain are working together cut through the snipers and mages. Ingrid and Ashe are doing their best to handle the pegasi knights. Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Flayn makes great combo on cutting through enemy reinforcements while providing healing to everyone. Slowly but sure, you and Dimitri managed to push Death Knight on the corner. But it doesn’t make things less difficult for both of you.

 

“You dare stand between me and my pleasure?”

The beginning of it was barely a bellow that grew steadily to a deafening roar, piercing the air and shaking the ground. Areadbhar crack in deafening clash against Death Knight’s Scythe of Sariel. They raised their weapons, waving them overhead.

 

“Yes. I dare stand against you, Death Knight!!”

 

Dimitri decides to face Death Knight head on as you tried your best to keep his back safe from the Imperial soldiers assaults. Keeping a close eye on him... just in case, following from a few meters back, cover his blind spots that way, look out for any potential danger. You could see them coming around, carefully and quietly trying to find their way to Dimitri.

 

Landing sharp blows, you bring the blade down on the head of another mage. Slashing your way through numerous enemies, you start to feel fatigued. Countless enemies lying dead behind. You looked around, among the sea of red and black, a swordmaster is sneaking his way behind Dimitri, ready to ambush him.

 

But you wouldn’t let it happen!

 

You were fully offensive, rapidly swinging your sword down on the swordmaster. You were able to deflect, parry, and block most of his attacks until his foot swept across your ankles, knocking you hard to the floor. The swordmaster stood above you, ready to press his sword into your chest to end your life. Fatigue made it harder for you to evade his deadly stab completely. Sound of a weapon piercing through flesh filled your ears, followed by an intense pain in your side. He pulled it back out with a triumphant smirk on his face. Despite the searing pain, you made it in time to grab your own weapon and thrust it up to his neck, your arms shaking as you tried to counter the weight of his attack. Grimace crossing your face as he fell, blood painting the earth a sick shade of red.

 

You sat up, wincing at the searing, burning hot pain on your side. The stab wound was way too deep. Your hands trembled, desperately attempting to put pressure on the wound as heavy flow of your blood is trickling through your fingers, colors your skin and clothes. The world had turned blurry, and your body felt weak. Ignoring the excruciating pain, you rush forward to help Dimitri. He has won against the Death Knight. But in his brief reverie, the Tempest King failed to notice two opposing snipers are approaching him, expression intent to kill, aiming their arrows at his back.

 

You acted on instinct, rushing forward, sprinting to intervene. To protect him.

‘We have been through so much together and he’d been through hell and back... I want to ease his pain. Knowing he’s safe... I can be at peace.’

You thought to yourself, launching forward. You barely has energy to stand up, but you tried to muster your last remaining strength to dove in before Dimitri. The arrows managed to easily make it’s way through your armor, landing in your chest and abdomen. ‘I have no regret when it came to protecting Dimitri.’

 

Your body slammed hard on the ground, careening across the battlefield. A sharp cry pained noise escaped you; that was all it took. Dimitri stiffened at the sound. It pulled him from the high of the battlefield down to reality in an instant.

 

“(Y/N)!!!”

 

He turned; filled with horror and rage. The fires blazing around him didn’t give off any heat. The battlefield around him turned black and white. His ears were ringing as if he’d been caught in an explosion. Dimitri went after the snipers and thrust them both at their hearts. After a quick glance to make sure no more surprise attacks happen, he kneels and pulling you into his chest. You looked so small, felt so limp that it sickened him. Broken and battered with littered scars and large wound on your side. Arrows jutting out of your chest, much too close to the heart, and another one lodged deep in your abdomen.

 

Dimitri watched as the blood pooled around you. Blood... there is so much blood. Your blood.

“Goddess... what were you- MERCEDES! FLAYN!! SOMEONE...HELP!!”

 

He pulled himself up, beside you, staring at your face. You were so pale. Oh, Goddess, you were dying. Were you already dead?

 

“I’m sorry.” There isn’t a reason to apologize, you aren’t sorry, but it still came out like the blood that is on Dimitri’s hands now.

 

“Don’t you dare apologize to me right now,” his voice choked off in his throat feels raw with emotions, barely able to hold back the sob which demands to escape, “not when you are like this. What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You have promised me to not be reckless.” He phrased it in a question, but both know why.

 

“Y-You... haven’t seen the... swordmaster... and those snipers. Y-You...were going to die...if they attack you. I want to protect you.... and I don’t regret my decision.“

 

You opened your mouth to speak but immediately coughed, feeling globs of blood on the corners of your lips. Dimitri gripped your hand, his hold so tight that it hurt, but you wouldn’t waste your breath on telling him. You could barely see Mercedes scurried over to your side as quickly as she could, Flayn follows behind her, leaving the Death Knight behind with tears running down her cheeks.

 

“Please stay awake for me a little longer, please.”

He choked out, pulling you closer if possible as it would keep you from leaving.

 

The chaos around you went mute as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe a quick nap would suffice.

 

“No...no, no, (Y/N)!! You can’t do this to me, you can’t-! Please, (Y/N), I can’t lose you too.....”

 

You felt like you were fading, and the sounds around you faded along with your hazy consciousness. You fell asleep.

---

Every second was filled with anxiety; you’d lost so much blood. The wounds were too deep to heal completely. There was little to no possibility of survival. Not after what you’d been through.

The days turned to one week, then two...then three. The physical wounds had healed, mostly repaired and faded to scars. There was potential for things to return to normal, and you may wake up sooner rather than later.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, your upper body covered in bandages. The first thing you’re aware of is a dull throb radiating throughout your entire body. You were confused, and moved your head, unintentionally shifting your body and sending a wave of pain through your chest and stomach as you tried to get up. You closed your eyes tightly in response to the return of extreme pain, much worse than you had ever felt before. With much struggle, you sat on the edge of the bed shakily trying to stand up. The door creaked open and you looked up to find Dimitri peering inside.

 

”You’re awake,” he said, a look of surprise on his face. You tried to stand up and walk to him but failed, Dimitri ran in and caught you before you fell over. “I thought I was going to lose you, (Y/N),” he said, lifting you up effortlessly, settling you gently onto the bed and pulled up a chair. 

 

As cautiously as you could, you managed to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the young king, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

 

“You nearly died because of me. I have no right to be... you of all people shouldn’t-!” He managed to say, his voice shaking as his fingers trembled.

His head shot up to look at you, cerulean blue eyes dampened by tears that pooled in them. Your eyes were open, though weakly, looking at him and his disturbed state. You sensed his worry, but also his relief as he hovers next to your bed, engulfing you in his embrace and squeezing you against his chest for all he was worth. He was mindful of your wound, but that wasn’t enough to keep him away. No, he needed you. He needed to be beside you, to feel you, to know you were there.

 

“I’m okay, Dimitri...” You whispered, resting a hand on his chest where his heart thundered. You closed your eyes against him, relishing the feel of his tender warmth.

 

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening. Your arms wrapped around his heaving back weakly, rubbing it soothingly. He pulled you closer in response—closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

 

"I could not stand to lose you,” he spoke slowly, holding your hands so tight that it hurts.

“But I fear that I may if I tell you what is on my mind.”

 

His voice was as quiet as it could be and it made you frown your eyebrows in worry. You were happy to see him alive, that was your goal when you decided to protect him from the approaching enemies. However, seeing him so distraught and afraid twisted your insides uncomfortably. The way he held your hand so desperately, afraid to let go.

 

“Dimitri.” You call him quietly, which makes him look at you with those gorgeous eyes of him.

 

You move your hand to his cheeks, caressing his soft skin, trying to bring him even the tiniest amount of comfort. Leaning to give him a soft chaste kiss on his lips. He reciprocated by open-mouthed kiss you with such fervor. There’s an undercurrent of desperation in the way Dimitri kisses you, as if this is the last moment he’ll ever feel it. It’s almost as if it pains him to be this close to you. You were alive, yet he couldn’t help but doubt it. Perhaps it was once again due to the vicious noises he still heard, though faintly. However, he was glad that they allowed him this moment of happiness.

 

“I won’t leave you, Dimitri.” You promised between ragged breath, your chest heaving.

 

“We are so close to ending this. Please, promise me you’ll stay safe. Rest, for now, my beloved.” Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding your hand to his chest. “I promise, I will never let you be hurt for my sake again.” Covering you with a  blanket  and tucking you into bed to retire for the evening.

 ---

After your awakening, the Blue Lions and Professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts (flowers and snacks), always encourage you to get better soon. But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved gentle king.

It was two weeks since you have gotten better. Mercedes promised to take care after your bandages this evening.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)?”

You met Mercedes’ warm gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Mercedes.”

 

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your breasts to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Mercedes sighed, slowly traced the scars your chest and stomach.

“I’m sorry but we will never be able to remove the scars. The wounds all healed, but... the scars will never go away completely. I’m sorry (Y/N).”

 

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“It’s okay. I will never regret such a thing.” You smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Do you need anything else, (Y/N)?”

“No, I’m all good, Mercedes! Thank you for your help.”

“All right, then. Annette said that she needs my help with her baking this evening. We have to finish it before midnight! Should you need anything, please feel free to call me.” Mercedes gave you last smile before excusing herself politely from your quarter.

 

“Dimitri.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince. Refusing to look at your scar, a harsh reminder of his failure.

“Look at me.”

He stilled and won’t budge to look at you.

 

“I will never regret nor blame you for this. It was my decision and if it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Or... perhaps.... I can understand if you find that my... scars are disgusting, appalling, even....” you whisper softly, almost inaudible. Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into your bed.

“DON’T SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF!!” He growled “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me. If.. If something ever happen to you.. I’ll live a life worse than death itself, (Y/N).”

 

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. His mouth moved awkwardly yet full of affection. Hands planted  on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravishing kisses. Dimitri pressed his lips further into yours, swallowing your moans. His lips left yours to trail down around your neck, breasts, and stomach lovingly. “This wounds... I cannot lose you again, my beloved.” His body quivered.  The King kissing the scars on your cleavage and abdomen, worshiping them reverently with tender touches, almost like touching a porcelain doll. Afraid to break you with his almost inhuman power. Biting and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites, leaving you a panting mess.

 

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling whispers of ‘I’m sorry’. Bittersweet smile formed on his lips. He gazed at you, eyes lidded with desires and need, mixed with guilt and love. “(Y/N)... My beloved...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled.

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into.

“I love you, Dimitri.”

 

He blushed at your words, then it dawned on his realization. Suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “Um, w-well...” As he came to his full senses he released his hands from you, as though from fire and stuttered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. He wasn’t making eye contact anymore, and you followed his gaze downwards on your body. Oh. Without the dreamlike stupor a d hazy feeling to distract you, you realized just how naked you are. Nightgown pooled beneath your waist. Feeling an onset of bashfulness, you also brought an arm up to cover as much of your chest as you could; despite what you had just done with him, the reality of the situation was catching up to you.

 

He flinched, breaking eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah—Urghh!!! I’m sorry, (Y/N)!! I don’t know what came over me but.. but... P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...” The King unclasped his furred cloak hurriedly and put it over your naked body unceremoniously, hiding his flushed crimson face in his hands again, absolutely brutalized with shame. 

 

“Er.. Be certain to rest for now. We may have undone some of your healing.” Then he said hurriedly, almost inaudibly. “When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

 

“Fine...” You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, Dimitri.”

You pulled his hand to your lips and give each of his fingers soft kisses, gazing at him lovingly. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the poor King desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

 

“Good night, my beloved (Y/N).” Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, the Blue Lions Leader left with a haste that was probably unbecoming of a gentleman, his long legs taking the steps to the second floor dormitory two at a time. He somehow,  somehow  managed to reach his room without incident or interruption, locking his door behind him, leaning back against it and covering his burning red face with his hands. His body felt like it was on fire; nerve endings alight with sensations he had long believed were dead.

 

The pit of his stomach tangled in knots when he thought of (Y/N). All he could think about was your pure unadultered love, beautiful (E/C) that is gazing at him affectionately. Goddess, he was such a sinner. It made him want to put his hands on you. All over you. Repeatedly. Savoring the taste of your lips as  you moan into his mouth. Feeling your warmth and love. Unclothed. His mind is running wild. This frantic sensation in his blood, while half-forgotten, was not new. It will be another sleepless night for the poor king. And it’s all because of you.

[toaarcan]

One ship exposes everything wrong with TRoS

Heaven help me, I’m back on my bullshit.

Alright, so, I enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker when I watched it. I actually watched it twice, once on my own when I rushed to see it as soon as possible in order to beat spoilers, and once with my family, in what was a semi-annual new year tradition for us during those four years that a Star Wars film released.

But that doesn’t mean it was good. I enjoyed Transformers: Dark of the Moon the first time I watched it, and that movie’s still a steaming pile of shit. I was admittedly fifteen when I saw DotM, but still. 

My point is that I’m fully capable of enjoying crappy films.

But there’s one thing, one thing about TRoS that exemplifies so many of the problems with TRoS as a whole, if not everything (And by that I mean with TRoS specifically, the woeful treatment of John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran is a Whole Trilogy Problem). And it’s a ship. Specifically this ship.

The Resistance Y-Wing. I hate this ship with the fiery passion of an exploding star, and to talk about why, we need to first go back to The Last Jedi and its conspicuous lack of Y-Wings.

One of the things that I disliked most about the Sequels before TRoS put all the other problems into stark light was the lack of new ships. Instead of new vehicles, we got shinier, sleeker versions of the ships from the original trilogy. And I disliked this because it’s the opposite of what the Prequels did.

Episodes I-III don’t feature more primitive versions of the X-Wing and TIE Fighter, but instead have similar vehicles that evoke the classics while still having an identity of their own.

The ARC-170 looks kinda like an X-Wing, but it’s bigger and has more weapons and crew, and you get why the well-funded Republic can afford things like this while the scrappy Rebels can’t.

The Eta-2 is a predecessor to the TIE Fighter, but it being employed exclusively by Jedi makes a lot of sense, of course a precognitive wizard with superhuman reflexes can do well in a light, unshielded ship, while in the hands of the Empire’s military they’re just expendable swarm fighters.

But then in the Sequels, rather than evolve the ships into new forms, they just made new incarnations of the X-Wing, TIE Fighter, A-Wing, TIE Interceptor, B-Wing, and of course the Y-Wing.

Well, except for one movie: The Last Jedi.

At the outset of the film, we’re introduced to this ship.

This is the MG-100 StarFortress, AKA “That ship all the Star Wars Youtubers hate”. It’s designed to be a much heavier and bulkier version of the B-Wing Starfighter, and is even made by the same people.

From questions about how the bombs “fall” toward the Dreadnought (The answer is magnets) to claims that they’re completely useless because most of the ones in the film died so easily, these things have been put through the wringer by the fandom, and honestly they don’t deserve it? What destroyed the StarFortresses in the film wasn’t their own weaknesses, but them being deployed in too tight a formation. It was a tactical fuckup, not a problem with the ship’s design.

And given that the whole point of the battle over D’Qar is that Poe makes a tactical fuckup to kickstart his development into the new leader of the Resistance as a whole, adding another layer makes sense to me.

But we live in a post-CinemaSins world of media consumption, where every plot-point that isn’t spelled out with a flowchart and an audio commentary by the writers is actually a plothole. 

We also live in an era where Star Wars fans pine for the days of the Legends canon where everything about new ships, species, and worlds was explained in background lore and books, and are angry that the new Canon is... doing exactly the same thing?

Seriously, how much exposition and lore dumping is actually present in any of the Star Wars films? Not a whole lot. And that applies to all three eras. 

So the StarFortress’ appearance in the film and the lack of Y-Wings led to a bevy of armchair writers demanding to know why the Resistance weren’t using Y-Wings and why they were using those “Resistance Bombers” that are just ‘terrible’.

Answer? Because the Y-Wings sucked shit.

Seriously, go back to the Original Trilogy and try to keep track of the Y-Wings, and see what they actually do, and you’ll find that what they do is “Explode, mostly.”

We’re first introduced to the Y-Wings in A New Hope, and they’re supposed to be the ones performing the Trench Run while the X-Wings cover them, and to their credit, they try.

And then they all get blown up by Vader and his wingmen before they can even take a shot at the exhaust port. Well, except that one that appears with the rebel ships flying away from the Death Star.

Where the fuck were you when the X-Wings were doing the attack run?

The Y-Wings got absolutely wrecked.

Ancillary media would go on to explain that the Y-Wings were beat-up old vehicles that were no longer fit for purpose, but the Rebels had to use them anyway because they had basically no money. They’d stripped down the ships and removed a bunch of their more costly features just to make them viable, and the results of that were pretty clear.

Of course, the Y-Wings were still present in the later films. They don’t do anything in The Empire Strikes Back, but they play a role in Return of the Jedi.

Naturally, that role is mostly “Get blown up while the other ships do the important stuff”.

Despite supposedly being a fighter-bomber that was designed to do significant damage to capital ships, does the Y-Wing play a role in the destruction of the Executor? Does it fuck. Destroying the Imperial flagship’s deflector shields and the subsequent suicidal ram attack on the bridge are tasks that are both performed by the goddamn A-Wings. Y’know, the light interceptors?

The Y-Wings get shown up at their own job by the ships that are there to protect them from TIE Fighters.

Ancillary media again explains why they’re still there. While the Rebels have a newer, better fighter-bomber in the B-Wing, the B-Wing is expensive as fuck and also really difficult to fly. 

A non-centreline cockpit that rotates will do that to a ship.

Still, the B-Wing was a better bomber than the Y-Wing ever was (And the StarFortress was better than them both at that role).

All this adds up to a simple fact: There were very good reasons why the Resistance weren’t using Y-Wings. And there were even reasonable reasons to choose the StarFortress compared to the B-Wing itself, given that the Resistance are still undermanned and under-funded, especially with the New Republic getting nuked midway through The Force Awakens. It being easier to fly and having more armaments would have made it a viable choice for the Resistance.

Buuuut oops, people didn’t like the StarFortress and we can’t make the Internet angry at us again! Better put the Y-Wings back in for Episode IX, and show them destroying a Xyston-class Destroyer, that’ll make them happy!

And sure, okay, giving the Resistance a fighter/bomber is probably a good idea. And they already have New X-Wings and New A-Wings, so where’s the harm in a New Y-Wing?

Alright, alright, sure. But why the fuck does it look like this?

If this is a new ship, why is it already stripped-down like the ones in the Original Trilogy? Why doesn’t it look like the actual brand-new Y-Wings we saw in The Clone Wars? 

Now that’s more like it. Still visibly a Y-Wing, but with more of an identity of its own. 

Seriously, “Literally the same ship but without its armour pulled off” has more of a unique identity than the crowd-pleasing New Y-Wing.

And that, in and of itself, is the essence of The Rise of Skywalker.

It’s blind, empty fanservice, rushing to include as much nostalgia-pandering as possible to try and get the fanbase back on-side after The Last Jedi didn’t do what the fanboys wanted it to do.

This is a whole near- three hour movie whose only message is “Yes, Youtubers making TFA critiques longer than an entire season of TCW, we hear you, we’ll make it for you, please love us!”

And, almost entirely predictably, it was shite.

It was riddled with plotholes and none of the scenes had any time to breathe because the movie was too desperately trying to rush itself to the next crowd-pleasing scene in a desperate attempt to wank off as many disgruntled fanboys as it possibly could.

Luke with his green saber! Jedi Leia! Chewie gets a medal! Lando! Luke raises his X-Wing out of the water! The main villain is a testicle in a bathrobe again! Snork origin! Original-flavour Star Destroyers! Rose doesn’t exist! Rey had a super-special secret magical bloodline the whole time and Luke and Leia totally knew even though Luke has literally no idea who she is in Episode VIII! Luke actually was just afraid of the bad guys in Episode VII, none of that self-imposed exile for his own mistakes nonsense! Y-Wings.

I mean fuck. Disagree with Luke’s portrayal in TLJ all you like, I certainly have my issues with it, but I lay those at the feet of JJ for making Luke’s absence into one of his fucking Mystery Boxes, and then deciding that, even though last time Luke sensed Leia and Han might be in danger, he abandoned his Jedi training, hopped in an X-Wing, and flew halfway across the galaxy to try and save them, he wouldn’t do shit when the First Order pointed a star-powered System-Killer 9000 at Leia, and Han got himself killed trying to redeem Kyle Ron. Like how in fuck was Rian supposed to explain Luke’s inaction in VII?

But regardless of the problems with that Luke portrayal, at least Mark Hamill gave it his all. Hell, it might be his best performance in the Star Wars franchise!

 In TRoS, he shows up in a bad wig, waves a middle finger at TLJ, and ascends to his final form as a Lightsaber Delivery Boy, because apparently all you need to kill a Sith who literally clawed his way back from death is two lightsabers. Haunting Kyle Ron? Nope. Providing guidance as a ghost? Not really.

And y’know what the kicker is? It didn’t fucking work. Lucasfilm and Disney fucking gutted this trilogy, sliced out the integrity, surgically removed the soul of Episode IX in a desperate effort to make the Internet’s most unpleasable fanbase happy, and it didn’t work. They still hate it! Now they just concoct hour-long videos about how much they would’ve preferred to have the Trevorrow script (Which is admittedly much better, albeit still with it’s far share of giant flaws), which was probably thrown out because it wasn’t fanservicey enough!

The Rise of Skywalker is an awful film. It’s a loose collection of nostalgia-baiting moments, roughly stapled together around the skeleton of a plot that was never properly developed. It’s a Frankenstein’s Monster of a movie, but, and I say this with full offense, the Victor Frankenstein in this tragic story isn’t Lucasfilm or Disney or Kathleen Kennedy or Rian Johnson, or even JJ Abrams. It’s you, Star Wars Fandom. It is your monster. 

[ladyeliot]

Welcome Seaville. Chapter One. [T.S. / J.H.]

Series:  “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”

Prologue

Pairing: Tony Stark/Justin Hammer x Fem!Reader / Best Friend Steve Rogers

Summary:  1987. The exchange term is over, so you return to your hometown, Seaville, just before Christmas. The reunions with friends, the first day of school, everything goes back to the way it used to be.

Warnings: Insults, piques.

Word Count: 3465

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

December 1987

It would have been enough to say that this was just another ordinary Christmas in the small Maine town of Seaville, but it was not. The Christmas lights were brighter, the streets were more beautiful under the clear splendour of the moon, and the wind brought a sweet smell of sea salts that gave you a pleasant sensation. You peered through the passenger window and let the east wind envelop you and welcome you home again. Seaville was welcoming you in its entirety and you were leaving it.

It had been just four months since you had left the coast of Maine to head off to fulfil one of your many dreams, to spend a term in the French city of Paris. Nothing in your life could have compared to that singular experience, and you even hoped to return next year having been accepted to the University of Paris, but, equally, nothing could compare to the love you felt for home.

"Please roll up the window," your father insisted. "I don't want you to spend the whole Christmas holidays with the flu."

And of course nothing could compare to your dear father.

As you rounded the corner into your little residential area you could almost smell the sweet scent of hot chocolate and puffy clouds that your father had promised you when he picked you up from the airport. You got out of the car so quickly that you barely paid any attention to the bundle of suitcases your father was trying to pull out of the boot without any help.

As you had predicted, as soon as you turned the lock and opened the door, the smell of cocoa filled the whole house. You allowed yourself a few seconds to take in the view, the fireplace lit and adorned with the three corresponding boots, the Christmas tree in place, without the star on the top, as that was your job, and the coats sorted on the hanger by colour. All the same as always.

"Don't worry, I can manage," your father said almost breathlessly as he climbed the porch steps.

You laughed and grabbed one of the three suitcases that were blocking your father's path. You both closed the door behind you and followed each other into the kitchen as if it were tradition. The chocolate was still warm and the clouds had dissolved, just the way you used to like them. The conversation with your father went on for so long, explaining to him everything you hadn't wanted to tell him over the phone, or through letters, a method your father had forced you to maintain, for we should note that his job was as a literary writer, although he sometimes resorted to writing a few newspaper columns to make a little extra money.

The point is that the little family had been talking for hours on end, not realising that midnight had already passed, and that tomorrow you had to go to the institute to settle bureaucratic matters due to your return.

"Bonne nuit, chérie," your father said in a chaste French accent, kissing your forehead.

"Bonne nuit, papa," you smiled back, preparing to be reunited with your room.

Your room, which you had not yet had the pleasure of entering, was as usual, oblivious to the fact that your father had changed the quilt on your bed so you could sleep warmer. You flopped on your back on the bed, but just as a memory came to you, you quickly got up and went to the window. What your eyes beheld brought a laugh and a sense of relief and happiness, how could you not have noticed it before?

By chance of life, you were lucky enough to have discovered true friendship in the person who lived right across the street from you. When you and your father moved to Seaville, due to your mother's death 10 years ago, you chose that quiet residential neighbourhood to settle down and raise a small family. You met Steve Rogers on your first day of second grade, and from the moment you discovered you lived across the street from each other, a beautiful friendship was forged.

For ten minutes you couldn't take your eyes off the window of the house across the street, right next to yours. A large light blue cardboard covered the whole space and a few letters in capital letters decorated it with "Bon retour". Obviously you had kept Steve constantly in mind during your term away, long phone conversations and a few postcards proved it, but during the flight back you were afraid that he had forgotten about the day you were coming back, a rather stupid fear. So, with the comfort that gesture had brought you, you decided it was time to go to bed and get some rest, as the next morning was a long day ahead.

The sunbeam fell incessantly on your face, the curtains could barely block its power, you had assumed that you were not a good early riser, but that morning you woke up in a good mood, not even the strong smell of charred toast was going to take it away from you.

"Wow, nice smile," your father notified, offering you a plate with two pieces of toast blackened under raspberry jam.

"Thanks!" you took the plate and took his usual seat. "I'm looking forward to seeing Steve, and catching up with Natasha. Although I hope they've got things to tell me too. What are you doing today?"

"I have to finish the chapter of the book to hand in to the publisher," he sat down next to you. "And I also have to go to the mall to pick up a gift."

The smile on your face that morning widened, there were only two days left until Christmas, so it was obvious that the gift I was supposed to pick up would be for you. Even though you had everything planned, and had brought some presents from Paris, you still had to buy the last detail for your father.

Just then the front doorbell rang, and you realised that time had run out on you when you noticed that you were still in your pyjamas.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, taking the last bite of toast and heading upstairs. "I'll be down in five minutes!"

Just as you disappeared your father headed off to greet his visitor. You could hear Steve's voice as you hurriedly went about getting dressed, combing your hair and getting your backpack ready for class, not forgetting to grab two rolls of film to develop, but when you heard his laughter you couldn't help but laugh too, even though you had barely heard the reason for his action. You rushed downstairs and from the third step practically threw yourself onto Steve's back in a laughing embrace.

"Have you grown up? No way, let me see you," Steve scoffed receiving your customary punch on his shoulder.

"Hey, nice cartel," you arched an eyebrow pointing to his house.

"You think so?" your friend asked. "I'm glad you liked it. I spent three poster boards until I was proud of my work. "

Steve's sincerity did nothing but thank you for the small detail he'd had for you. But time was passing and you still hadn't left the house.

"Come on, guys! You're going to be late for class," your father informed you, offering you your lunch bag. You took it with a kiss on the cheek and ran after Steve, who was waiting for you by your bike in the garden. That morning you couldn't keep a smile off your face and Steve couldn't take his eyes off you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you said getting on your bike.

"You're so happy. It's not normal to see that smile at eight o'clock in the morning," Steve's comment made you laugh a little.

You both set off in the direction of the school, it usually took you ten minutes to get there by bike if you cycled at a leisurely pace, but you were still able to catch up. On the way Steve was interested in the photographs you had taken during your stay in the European city, as you had sent him some of the ones you had had time to develop. Photography was a way for you to escape, your mother had dedicated all the years of her life to the art, and perhaps it was an incentive for you to admire her.

"It's different, Paris inspires me, it's so romantic and bohemian that it's very easy to get carried away," you explained. "That doesn't mean Seaville isn't, it's... different."

Steve listened attentively to your every word, possibly one thing you both had in common was a sensitivity that you only showed when you were both alone.

It didn't take you long to realise that the school was nearby, as the amount of cars queuing at the entrance informed you of your arrival.

"Welcome back," said Steve as he entered with you through the main door leading to a long corridor lined with lockers.

You both headed towards your locker area, you didn't know why you expected anything to have changed, but everything, literally everything, was still the same.

"There you go again! Have you been deported?" that voice, which you hadn't missed, made you roll your eyes. "I had hoped that you would have climbed the Eiffel Tower and let yourself plummet. But here you are, again."

"I had hoped that one of your absurd inventions would have exploded and you would have been shot to pieces with them," you shot back with a sarcastic grin. "But not all dreams come true."

"And I had hoped that being a senior in high school you two could get along," Steve interrupted. "But I see that's impossible."

A wide wry grin on Tony's face competed with yours, but you added a snip and he countered by trying to bite your finger.

"Lovely welcome Tony," Natasha joined the group hugging you from behind, depositing a kiss on his cheek. "Wait, do I smell Parisian perfume? You haven't turned into one of those French repipes have you?"

You were grateful for Nat's presence, who was your ally against the daily struggle against Tony, for after all Steve was a neutral lynchpin in the battle. Nat shook Steve's hand and when he went to greet Tony he tried to give him a kiss on the lips, which resulted in him getting punched in the arm. The bell rang, breaking up the group, depending on which subjects you were in.

"Meet me later in the cafeteria and continue to catch up?" you commented to Steve who was going the other way with Tony.

"As always."

You gave him a parting smile, but your gaze met Tony's who blew you a kiss in the air, causing you to squint and grimace.

"And we're still catching up?" repeated Nat with a quizzical arch of his eyebrow.

"I've got a lot to tell you, and I hope you've got a lot to tell me..." you arched an eyebrow.

"It all depends on the present you brought me from Paris," replied your friend, winking at you.

You laughed, but the two of you parted ways just inside the administration offices, where a long morning of tidying up awaited you.

After two hours of filling out forms and making photocopies of the documents you had brought from the institute in Paris, you had become quite an expert. You had hoped to have an hour to spare before lunchtime to escape to the developing room to develop the film, but that seemed impossible. When the bell rang, you had barely had time to approach the room and put the film in your locker, which you had been assigned to since sixth grade when photography had become your obsession, so you made your way to the cafeteria and found your friend sitting at your table, right next to the big window overlooking the football field.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you to start eating together, but this pizza... it was tempting me," Nat took a bite of pizza like there was no tomorrow.

"If I tell you I've been reading absurd, meaningless documents all morning..." you snorted sitting down across from her and pulling out your sandwich. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be going to Paris."

"You know that's not true," Nat arched an eyebrow drawing a smile from her. "You would have gone to Paris even if you had to repeat one more grade in high school."

"Anyway, I need an update," you began, turning serious. "Has anything interesting happened while I've been away? Anyone new? Anyone who's been stirring things up?"

"New? No, anything interesting? Neither. This Seaville Murph, there's nothing going on here," Nat shrugged finishing his slice of pizza.

"I'll look for the bright side. At least I haven't missed anything," you shrugged.

"I guess you could go away for ten years and when you came back everything would still be the same," Nat looked around. "Where are the boys?"

"I'll bet you five bucks they're on the football field," you commented. "By the way, have you written the application for Brenau yet?"

"It's practically finished," your friend reported. "I'll go over it during the holidays and send it off in January. Are you ready to move to Paris next year and drive the Parisians crazy?" Natasha winked. "You haven't been hiding some movie adventure from me all this time?"

"Oh! Of course," you said wryly just as Steve and Tony made their big appearance. "Now that you mention it, as I was strolling the first evening in the Luxembourg Gardens I heard a sweet melody in the background and headed for it. There was a man playing the saxophone and I stopped to listen to him for a couple of minutes. I was so absorbed that I hardly noticed that a boy had stopped right next to me until he said 'Ne pensez-vous pas que Paris a un charme particulier?' Then I looked at him, he had the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen," you paused your story to make a false sigh. "Then we strolled until late at night, and we met every evening so that he could show me the most beautiful corners of the city. I think those were the most romantic months of my life."

Three pairs of eyes stared at you showing completely different feelings. Natasha, who was sitting opposite you, was holding back her laughter, Steve, who was standing holding his tray next to Tony, looked completely confused by what had just happened and Tony was arching an eyebrow somewhat curiously at the story. At this point neither of you two could hold it in and started laughing, snapping the boys out of their trance.

"What was that?" asked Steve sitting down next to you. "Is that true? Because it would annoy me if you hadn't told me."

"Come on! He's pulling your leg," informed Tony jokingly and taking his place next to Nat.

"Wait how are you so sure my story isn't true? Couldn't I have my romantic history with a Parisian?" you rebutted somewhat indignantly at his certainty.

"Was he blind?" Tony arched an eyebrow.

For your part you squinted, just as Tony got a jolt of shock after getting stomped under the table by Nat because of his comment. Steve's change of conversation made it easier to keep the argument from escalating, but something always happened to spoil civilised conversations. A few minutes later, Tony was struggling with the Ketchup sachet which he couldn't open to spread on his burger, such was his desperation that when he took a bite of the sachet, it burst causing the sauce to hit your dress. Nat's eyes along with Steve's widened in anticipation of the contest between the two of you.

"You're an idiot Stark!" you quickly grabbed a couple of napkins Nat offered you so you could remove the sauce before it left a mark.

"At least it matches your dress," Tony interjected, holding back a laugh.

Cursing through your teeth, you headed for the food counter with the intention that some cook would have one of her magical ideas to make the stain go away. Tony followed you without letting go of his burger, even though Steve and Nat advised him to stay quiet and sit down.

"Come on Murphy! It's hardly any different from the red fabric of the dress," he said stepping up beside you, and knowing how much you hated it when he called you that.

"How many times have I told you not to call me Murphy?" you said scrubbing the stain with soap and water.

"It's your name," she shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not my fault your parents decided to name you that."

You bit down hard on your lip so you wouldn't have to blurt out all those things that were running through your mind, and put on an act in the middle of the cafeteria. You were lucky that at that instant someone appeared and diverted Tony's attention.

"Ready for Stark debate class?" Justin Hammer, with whom you shared a few classes introduced himself to you.

"Of course Hammer. I can't wait to see you try to put your meager vocabulary together in one sentence," Tony took a bite of his burger, causing sauce to smear his mustache and chin.

"Come on Tony, you've got a lifetime to be an idiot why don't you take a day off?" Hammer smiled slightly.

You couldn't help but smile at the comment, to which Tony noticed and became uncomfortable.

"Hammer, everyone has the right to act stupid for a while, but I'm not really the one abusing that privilege," Tony took another bite of his burger. "So fuck off."

Justin Hammer had gotten what he wanted, and his success was grounded in a half-smile as he walked away, leaving Tony frustrated. Within seconds he turned to you, so you gave him a raised eyebrow.

"You don't abuse that privilege?" you asked, referring to what he had just said to Hammer. "Please, Tony..."

Your smile faded just as Tony dipped his finger into his burger, and, bathed in what little ketchup he could get his hands on, rubbed it all over your right cheek.

"You're despicable!" you exclaimed wiping your cheek.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"Don't thank me for the insult, it's always a pleasure," you cocked your head to the side and widened a fake smile leaving him alone, returning to the table.

The doorbell once again brought the lunch hour to an end. Tony followed you and jumped on Steve's back with the burger still in his hand, while you and Natasha gathered up your bags and belongings.

"Hey, what are you doing this afternoon? I thought we could all go to Barry's and catch up," you suggested to Natasha as you headed towards the lockers.

"I've got dance class, and I guess since it's the last one before Christmas it's going to run until dinner time," she lamented.

"Did someone say Barry's?" Tony slowed his pace and interjected into the conversation.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Steve. Barry's at 7pm?

"Nat's got dance class," you commented, opening your backpack to put your books in your locker.

"Guys, I know I'm a one-off, but you can go without me, don't worry," Natasha shrugged. "We can meet up tomorrow."

"Okay, but tomorrow you have to come with me to the mall, I'm still missing a present for my dad," you leaned in front of her.

"That means you already got mine," Tony winked at you, you hated his sudden mood swings.

"Yeah, a single ticket to the farthest place on the planet," you said, cocking your head.

"You know you'd miss me," he cut you short and you nudged him.

Oblivious to Tony, you added, "So I'll see you at Barry's this afternoon, and it's okay if you don't show up Stark."

"Believe me it's the last thing I feel like doing, but where Steve goes I go."

Taglist Open (DM) - @ravishingreid

MAIN MASTERLIST

[itsclydebitches]

Okay so, you're overall sensible about your arguments & I'm worried you'll 100% convince me and ruin the only time I appreciated Cinder but let's go lol. I don't hate what they did with her in the last ep ? I carried that feeling of "she finally learned smth" into the final and didn't let go of it... Idk but Cinder so quickly learning to care about her allies when she's a raging egocentric would have felt... off. My take off instead is that she's finally learned to compromise to reach her ends.

LOL oh no I’ll try not to ruin anything! 😄

So when I first watched the finale I had two main reactions to Cinder’s choices. The first was disappointment that her long term growth ended up being a lie. Because yeah, even if it would have happened really fast for someone as arrogant and egotistical as her, Cinder as a character is rather flat. Real teamwork and friendship would have added dimension to someone who, currently, exists solely to be evil for power and she wants power because she was previously powerless. That’s both bland and overdone. A villain with a comparable relationship to the hero and their team though? The villain also capitalizing on The Power of Friendship? That’s way more interesting. To say nothing of the depth it might have brought to Emerald’s (so far incredibly rushed) redemption. What does it mean for her to spend years offering Cinder friendship and compassion and Cinder only returns it to someone else the moment Emerald defects? What a blow. So that felt like a missed opportunity. 

But, the flipside to all this is that Cinder remaining a backstabbing asshole does frame her as competent again. She tricked Watts, she tricked Neo, and she pulled one over on Salem. I still believe what I originally said in my recap, that Cinder’s manipulation feels like it’s built far more on the others’ gullibility than her own skill, even if, as you say, we did see her toning things down to achieve that. Her manipulative actions weren’t nonexistent... but they weren’t a lot to justify the amount of trust her allies put in her either. I mean, Neo just stole the Lamp back after Cinder refused to complete her side of the bargain and Cinder just dangled Watts over a building. That’s a lot. Yet outside of her apology, Cinder doesn’t really do anything to convince the others she’s truly their ally this time. It’s not like we watched an arc wherein she sacrifices a great deal to prove her reliability, only to then turn around and reveal it was all just a long-con. Really, this entire scenario is based primarily on Neo making bad decisions. She gives Cinder the Lamp again after the betrayal she just went through? Why? Well, because the plot needed her to. But regardless, we do end up in the same place. Even if Cinder’s manipulation wasn’t super well executed, it was still a manipulation and she still came out on top. That’s the important bit. After getting taken out by Ruby’s silver eyes, spending a volume recovering, immediately falling to Raven, crawling back to Salem, and failing to take the Maiden powers from Penny twice over... Cinder really needed a win of some kind. And she got it! The kingdom of Atlas has fallen, the bad guys have two Relics, she thinks she killed two others, and if RT has played their cards right, Cinder has some plan of her own in the works while she plays servant to Salem. 

I still believe both of the above points, but it wasn’t until a couple days after the finale aired that I saw others pointing out a rather glaring issue that I myself missed. Basically, the entire idea of Cinder learning that working with others helps her win (whether she means it or is just faking) is ridiculous because Cinder knew this from the start. She hunted down Emerald and Mercury, worked with Roman, pulled Adam into their plans, is obviously a part of Salem’s circle and has relied heavily on the others for all of her plans. That includes everything from Mercury and Emerald securing Amber so she could steal some of her power, to working with Neo to steal the Lamp. So it’s beyond weird to give her a revelatory moment when she knew this lesson already. Ideally, we might have gotten a more nuanced version of that revelation where Cinder acknowledges that trying to do things alone, like she only has recently, has turned out badly. When Cinder worked with her evil team in Volumes 1-3, she succeeded. When she worked with Neo and Watts in Volume 8, she succeeded. When she went off alone against Pyrrha, she briefly succeeded... but then was blindsided by Ruby. Then she starts a pattern of trying to do it all alone, attacking Raven (and losing) or attacking Penny (and losing), with Emerald only there because she begged to come. And, shockingly enough, Emerald’s presence is what saves her... and Cinder is pissed about it. This might have been a moment where, instead of Cinder realizing that allies are good  — because she already knew that when she was introduced  — she realizes that she has unintentionally let her ego push those allies away and has been the worse for it. I’d normally say that RT might have been aiming for that and just executed it badly... but if that were the case, Cinder wouldn’t have kicked Neo off the edge, or killed Watts. She obviously hasn’t realized that allies are how she wins, otherwise she’d keep those allies around until she has what she actually wants: the Maiden powers. You don’t kill Neo until after you’ve snatched all the power from Penny; you don’t kill Watts until after he’s helped you get the other two powers. That would be the smart, manipulative move. So she successfully manipulated them in the short term, yes, but now it feels like Cinder has set herself up for failure again. What’s going to happen the next time she’s in a fight without those allies? She’ll lose, most likely. Just like she was succeeding when Neo was there to take out Yang, but then failed once Neo was in the void. If Cinder had kept her around, Neo might have been able to keep Jaune busy while Penny was dying. Who knows, but the point is she’s clearly better off with them at her side. Now that they’re gone, Hazel is dead, and Emerald has turned, Cinder has no backup except for Salem herself. No one to assister her and no one to manipulate/betray. I fear that Cinder will be back to her old, lame self. 

All of which could theoretically work. Cinder never realizing that allies are actually useful in the long run could be a fatal flaw of hers, but if that was meant to be a piece of her characterization we should understand why she’s so threatened by keeping them around. Above all, Cinder wants the Maiden powers and no one else is after them, so she’s not in competition with those allies for her ultimate goal. Salem (for whatever reason) considers her a favorite so again, Cinder isn’t trying to maintain some station that others are fighting her for. And as established, allies have only helped her over the course of this series. So why the egotism? Why doesn’t she want people to help her, or at the very least manipulate them until she’s achieved her true goal  — all the Maiden powers  — and then drop them into voids? I feel like the nugget of an answer might exist in her backstory. Something something Cinder is incapable of trusting anyone after Rhodes, no matter how much that trust would benefit her... but we don’t see evidence of that in the flashback itself (post-Rhodes Cinder exists for two seconds to stare at the moon) and she didn’t seem to possess this mistrust in the earlier volumes. This rejection of allies is now a pretty firm part of her characterization, but we don’t understand why and that lack of understanding rankles when a) it didn’t exist before and b) it’s clearly hurting Cinder’s chances to get what she wants in the long run. It’s like watching a character whose deepest desire is to bake a cake, we’ve established that having a recipe increases the chances of achieving that goal by a LOT, the character acknowledges this... but then it turns out that’s a lie because she’s tossed the recipe in the trash. And we don’t know why she did that. Why are you doing the things that are less likely to result in your cake?? 

Cake nonsense aside (lol) I have a lot of mixed feelings. Yeah, I too am happy that Cinder seems more competent than she’s been lately, but I also feel like that’s a really low bar right now. As you say, she was basically throwing “temper tantrums” before and now... she manipulates because she’s surrounded by the gullible and rejects long-turn help for unestablished reasons? It’s better than what we’ve gotten from her before, but I’m not sure I’d say it’s good  — and it may look worse the longer the series goes on. Like looking back at her Volume 1-3 characterization, RWBY doesn’t possess the consistency for these possibilities to amount to much. In truth, I don’t think Cinder has some cool, brilliant plan she’s pulling over on Salem. I don’t think Salem has some cool, brilliant purpose for Cinder. I don’t think that Neo’s (potential) return will lead to any growth for her or Cinder. Simply because RT doesn’t appear to be planning their story for the long term and, as Neo’s Lamp stunts show, characters do things for the plot, not because it suits their characterization. Cinder’s moment in the finale indeed works for me in some respects, but I think that’s only the case because I’ve expected so little from her character for so long. And Cinder’s moment in the final indeed has some potential attached to it, but based on past experience, I don’t think RT will capitalize on that. 

[missturtleduck]

Fake dating anon-I think it would be cool if it wasn’t a modern au? But thank you!!!!

Sorry for your wait, anon! I hope you like what I wrote for you <3

Fake It Till You Make It

Sokka x Reader - FakeDating!Trope

Needless to say, Y/N was slightly shocked by Sokka’s proposition.

By the age of sixteen, they had been crucial pai sho tiles in the gambit against the once Fire Lord Ozai. Returning home was odd for many reasons, but notably the reminders that they were still children really, or at least in the eyes of their families. It was Zuko who had suggested a gang trip – a joint life changing field trip – after the nations settled down from Ozai’s defeat.

The first to return home was Y/N. Her mother lived in Fire Fountain City. It was only a short journey away from the capital, and Hakoda had already travelled to see his children at the palace. Sure, she had joked about pushing off her mother’s insistent affection, but she definitely cried a little bit when she got to hug her mum, and even more when her brothers piled on too. Ever the monarchist, Zuko was welcomed into the house with open arms and plenty of celebration. Toph especially got on with her family, rough-housing with Y/N’s brothers like it was nothing.

Since Toph didn’t want to see her parents as of yet, the only family member left to visit was Sokka and Katara’s Gran Gran since Suki’s family were doing work in the Fire Nation anyway. It took some convincing for Toph to put on snow boots – “I’ll risk frostbite if it means seeing, Katara!” – but soon they were travelling all the way to the South Pole. It was on their stop at Kyoshi Island that Sokka had approached Y/N.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

Y/N barked out an incredulous laugh. “Tui and La, what?”

“Exactly what I said,” Sokka nodded, face solemn. “Katara wrote to Gran Gran a couple of times and mentioned Yue and Suki, but you know how that ended.”

“One turned into the moon and the other is a raging Sapphic in a relationship with Ty Lee.”

“Exactly!” He looked distressed, throwing his hands in the air. “And Gran Gran sent a letter back saying how excited she was to meet my girlfriend!”

Frowning in confusion, Y/N looked at him. “You could just tell her what happened.”

“But, Y/N, she was so excited!” He simpered the way a child would, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously, we’re just friends, but would you do this?”

Ouch. Sure, they were ‘just friends’, but it hurt anyway. Maybe it was the terseness with how he said it, or the fact that since the war had ended all Y/N could think about is how pretty Sokka looked when he could finally relax. Whatever it was, it stung in her chest, panging with the intensity of heartburn. Heartburn seemed a fitting enough description regardless of its denotation.

So that was how she ended up fake dating Sokka, all for the sake of his ego and his gran gran’s happiness. As they travelled over the ocean on Appa’s back, he was as physically far from her as he could possibly be. Ouch, again. For a fake boyfriend, he was doing a crappy job at it. Staring daggers at the back of his head, Y/N sulked quite contently next to Zuko, who seemed to be comfortable with her mood – something about being friends with far grumpier girls. That had made her laugh.

Her laugh had made Sokka stare.

The sharpness to her gaze melted almost immediately when she saw the concern etched on his face. Instead, she beamed at him. Sokka grinned back, turning away to continue his conversation with Suki.

Y/N could feel Zuko’s gaze on her. “I swear to the spirits, Zuko, if you say that’s rough, buddy, I’ll chi block you.”

The crown prince was kind enough to stifle his laughter, though it seemed contagious. Her frown shifted into a small smile and she took to staring over the edge of Appa’s saddle at the canvas of blue beneath them. There was something tranquil about the polar water, the great water beasts breaching the waves only to dive back down into the impossible depths. Being from the Fire Nation, Y/N had never experienced such wonder in a single image – nor such freezing weather. Pulling furs over herself, she readied herself for what would happen on the ice.

Gran Gran looked to be the loveliest but scariest woman she would ever meet. The woman stood as the leader of the tribe; a gaggle of children stood behind her in uncertainty. However, as soon as Sokka hopped off Appa’s back, they were screaming and charging past her to tackle him to the ground. Her heart warmed as they hugged him and cried, shouting at him for leaving them without a warrior in the village.

“What are you seal pups on about?” He snorted, trying to avoid being winded by tiny elbows. “I trained you better than this.”

“That’s enough of that.”

At the woman’s words, the children picked themselves up, leaving Sokka in the snow. He didn’t last long though as he and Katara took their turn in charging. Embracing their grandmother with the tightest hug Y/N had ever seen, she left them to their moment, opting to instead help Toph down from their trusty steed.

“I hate this,” Toph muttered, holding both Zuko and Y/N’s arms in her own death grip.

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “But you’ll be able to take those boots off once we get inside one of the igloos.”

“And this must be Y/N.”

With wide eyes, she pried herself from Toph, trusting Zuko to make sure she didn’t cause any avalanches. Stepping to Sokka’s side, Y/N tried not to startle as he wrapped his arm around her hip. “Sokka, let me meet your grandmother before you steal me away!”

She felt smug satisfaction at how he flushed.

“Let me look at you, dear,” The matriarch ordered, though not unkindly. Presenting herself in the woman, she brushed off the scrutinous stare with a smile. “You’re very beautiful.”

“Thank you, erm- “

“Please,” She beamed, and all Y/N could see was the saccharine threat that Katara often fronted, “Call me Gran Gran.”

As the woman turned away, she swatted Sokka’s arm, meeting his gaze with a scowl. Stalking past him through the snow – which was harder than she had assumed – Y/N was followed by a curious flock of children tugging on her sleeves. Patient as a saint, she laughed with them, answering all of their burning questions.

Why is your hair like that? Why are your clothes red? Is that the same scary man who attacked our village? But he doesn’t look scary. Why is Sokka smiling at you?

Whipping her head around, Y/N met Sokka’s eyes. He was grinning like a dope, chin rested on his palm as Katara talked Gran Gran’s ear off. Somehow, he hadn’t realised that she had caught him staring, but the children soon fixed that; a snowball to the face promptly brought him out of his stupor. Had he hit his head on the way down from Appa? Whatever it was, it made her heart hurt and she had promised Toph a warm igloo anyway.

The sun was beginning to set behind the glaciated mountains on the horizon, illuminating the village in the evening light, dappling the ice with sunspots. She had never seen something so beautiful before, but as the sun disappeared, so did the warmth; the igloo more than made up for it.

As she sat with Zuko, Suki, and Toph – Sokka and Katara obviously busy whilst Aang promised the children some airbending games – Y/N grumbled to herself. Not only was she playing fake girlfriend, but fake girlfriend who was hated by the family. Well, it probably wasn’t hate. She wouldn’t blame Gran Gran for being protective over one of her two grandchildren. In fact, thinking of how her brothers reacted to Sokka, maybe she had it good.

Laid flat on her back, she listened to the gossip of the Fire Nation, of how Ty Lee was doing, and how Toph was seeing some weird stuff under the ice. Whatever it was, it couldn’t spike her interest enough to join in the conversation.

“Y/N?”She barely turned her head to see an anxious looking Sokka in the doorway. 

“Yes?”

He looked around the room at all the faces and fidgeted. “About earlier- “

“Listen, I don’t care, okay, Sokka?” She said, trying her hardest to not seem entirely mean, nor upset; Toph scoffed, muttering something that sounded like liar.

“Just,” He sighed, “Can we talk outside?”

Pulling furs back over herself, she looked pleadingly at her friends to rescue her, but to no avail. Trudging after Sokka, she was growing more and more vexed as they moved further from the village and into the cold. The moon began to rise in the sky, glossing the ice with an ethereal glow, which was perhaps the only nice part about being out in the bitter cold.

“What, Sokka?” Y/N finally huffed, putting her foot down. “Am I not being a convincing enough girlfriend for you?”

“It’s not that Y/N,” Sokka started, waving his hands in a panicked motion as if warning off a polar dog.

“Then what?” She interrupted, not having any of it. “Did you want me to hold your hand? Maybe give you a cuddle?”

He flinched at the venom in her tone. “No, Y/N, if you’d just- “

“Just what?” Y/N snapped. “What you asked of me what really inconsiderate, 

Sokka, but I did it anyway because I'm your friend – just your friend.”

“Spirits, Y/N,” He sighed, realisation passing behind his eyes.

“But it’s fine! I’m a great actress, Sokka, because I wouldn’t be acting. See? I can hold your hand, hug you, even kiss you if you needed it, but it hurts me.”

Looking down at the ice, Sokka kicked some snow under his boot, looking very ashamed of himself for a second. It pierced through her anger in a way that was unfair. Instead of dealing a final blow, all she could think to do was grab his hand and comfort him. Yes, she still felt she was in the right, but Y/N didn’t want one of her closest friends to suffer at her hand, retribution or no.

“Gran Gran shouted at me, y’know,” Sokka said, a small smile quirking at his lips as his eyes fell on his hand in hers.

Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“For thinking she was a ‘dumb old lady’ apparently,” He chuckled, meeting her eyes. “It seemed Aang had let slip that we weren’t actually dating, so she told me off for that.”

“You deserved that,” She grin, bumping his shoulder.

“And then she called me dumb, which I didn’t appreciate.”

His smile said otherwise, so Y/N pushed. “What did you do now?”

“Try to fake something I actually wanted.”

Shocked, Y/N dropped his hand, and for a moment his heart fell heavy in his chest. This was the perfect chance to be with her, he thought, now that the war was over and she knew her family was safe. Now they had autonomy, surely they could focus on each other.

“Y/N, I’m so- “

His apology was cut off by an insistent pair of lips, begging him to be quiet and just enjoy their moment. Deepening the kiss, she looped her arms around the back of his neck, the scruff of his unshaven hair brushing against her arms. His heart was soaring, hers no longer burning but glowing. She pulled back and reaching up to his face, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek in the bitter cold, radiating warmer than the sun. Whatever light had been taken by the night was captured in them.

“Gran Gran likes you by the way,” Sokka said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Says you wrangle those kids better than I do.”

“Praise Agni,” Y/N gasped, letting out a bated breath she hadn’t realised was stuck. “She does the same scary face Katara does.”

Sokka chucked, rubbing his nose against hers. “Don’t you worry, Y/N. Me and Dad are just as scared by it.”

With a giggle, she rested her head in the crook of his neck, basking in their embrace for as long as she could.