#not ONE crown jewel is their own. they just took em???

[trickarrows-bishop]

Please be respectful when talking about the Queen. She was a head of state, a monarch, a mother to multiple pedophiles and most importantly a devoted cousin to her husband

anon you have no idea the jokes i made when the queen died. i couldn't have given less of a SHIT that she passed. i was more bothered about the free day i was getting off from school.

[mr-jack-letterman]

AAAAAAND WERE BACK with more Subway to Stardew silliness NSNNDD.

Thank you to the folks over at @subwaytostardew for making this wonderful mod and letting me make silly art about it lol.

In any case time for some headcannon nonsense.

(click for better quality because Tumblr makes it crunchy)

If Stardew Valley were to have a box legendary I think it would be Cresselia. It's literally Lunar pokemon and represents the crescent moon so it being the patron legendary of Stardew Valley just makes a lot of sense to me. Also Cresselia is underrated NSNDN.

Maybe there would be a secret special encounter for Darkrai. (the other half of it and Cresselia's duo but is a mythical for some reason?)

Also the Lunar wing would be very neat item to have in-game ANSNDND.

If it were to exist within the mod I imagine the farmer would be like "oooo shiny feather. Maybe it's a pokemon feather? Emmet/Ingo would probably like it :D" so then they make it into a necklace, or maybe just give it to one of them outright without knowing what it is. So Emmet/Ingo sees it and just starts freaking the hell out cause their crush/friend just gave them a piece of a literal legendary pokemon meanwhile the farmer is just....clueless NSNDND.

Now onto some of the other characters.

As basically the resident nurse joy of Pelican Town I think Harvey would have some pokemon common in the medical field. Though, pokemon like Chansey and Audino don't really fit his whole "whiskey neat, coffee black, bed at three"/ref vibes so I thought Indeedee would be best NSNDNND.

I also decided to give some pokemon to the characters mentioned within my ask.

Willy is very fond of water types, clearly NSNS. Specifically fish pokemon like Lanturn, Seaking, Whiscash, Wishiwashi, or Dondozo. (Though his actual team probably has a good chunk of pokemon that are still water type just not fish lmao) The crowning jewel of his collection is a shiny Magikarp he fished up. Maybe one day it will evolve, but for now it just swims around the docks next to his house entertaining anyone that visits.

He also has a Bibarel. (which I imagine is the grown up version of that one Bidoof that snuck into Pelican Town) It acts more like an overgrown housecat than a battle ready pokemon but it is incredibly bulky so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯.

Morris also has a few pokemon of his own. Most of which he keeps at home. But his main two he's seen with is a Gimmighoul and a Gumshoos. (IDK he just has Gumshoos vibes to me NSNDNND) They run around Joja pickpocketing people's gold cause Morris is just a dick like that.

"It's Wizard time mother fucker, FIREBALL-"/ref

Wizard likes psychic types, but I like to think he also has a fondness for fairy types too. Also, most of em has at least one strong fire type move just so he has an excuse to yell "fireball" and blast something NSND. His Malamar is named Illithid (a wack squid monster guy from DnD lol)

Sandy likes rock types, given that she lives in a desert it's probably the only type of pokemon she sees on the daily lol. She also has a key stone on her earring. With how colorful a keystone is when compared to sand I think she would be the most likely to find one there. Idk exactly if she'd mega evolve an Aerodactyl or a Tyranitar, if any pokemon at all. But I think she'd carry it around regardless. It's pretty :]

Also she has a shiny Rockruff. I don't rly have an explanation for that one I think it just fits the vibe lol.

And now, shenanigans.

Emmet then proceeds to grab the child and just.... speed walk away HSBBDBDJJR.

That's all I have for now, I'll probably throw some other pokemon at the bachelorettes and other bachelors another time but this alone took a solid week due to finals 😭/lh

Time for me to go to bed lol, have a good one 👍

[monstrousvoice]

"What about me?"

Husk's ears flicked behind him at the sound of your voice. He didn't turn away from the stock of bottles and booze lining the bar wall as he cleaned up for the morning.

"What about you?" He grumbled. He heard you shift around on the bar stool, the leather seat squeaking with your weight.

"You said you 'know everything' about everyone cause we all bitch at you when drunk...but you didn't complain about me." The cat demon felt his chest tighten at your words. He took a deep breath in through the nose.

'Don't turn around, if you do you'll see those big round eyes and you'll crack old man. Don't turn around.' The patronizing voice in his head hissed.

"Did you want me to air your dirty laundry for everyone?" He asked, peaking over his shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of your arm supporting you on the bar top before forcing his eyes back to the bottle racks infront of him. Bottles that didn't have your smile, or match the color of your eyes...

"Pfft," You scoff in return, "You know I don't, of course! But no one else wanted it either, and you still called 'em all out. So why didn't I get the same treatment?" Your voice was soft by the end of your question. Husk didn't dare let himself hope that you would be understanding. If you knew why...you'd laugh. What other response to his feelings could you have?

'Disgust is a strong possibility...' The voice whispered once more.

"I don't know what you mean doll, Angel just interrupted me with his fake ass flirting before I could get to you, I guess." He has been scrubbing this same bottle clean since you sat down. The label was incomprehensible by now.

"Husk." Your sweet voice has gone firm. The bartender braced himself, putting on his best poker face as he turned to face you.

And what a sight you were. Like always.

You simply raised your eyebrows, giving him a pointed look. He was...relieved? to not see judgement in your eyes. Such pretty eyes...like jewels on a crown...

Embarrassed by his own thoughts he coughed into his fist, hoping his fur would hide his blush. By the way your lovely eyes darted around his face, he could guess it didn't.

"Look, I just...happen to like you as a drinking buddy more than the rest of these chumps, alright? No big deal." His tail swished along the floor in frustration. What kind of stupid ass lie was that-

"Oh, I had been hoping it was a bigger deal..."

He froze, watching as you shifted around again. You stared at the bar top, fidgeting with your hands as you looked anywhere but him. When your eyes did meet, you have him an apologetic smile and a shrug.

"Sorry, I guess I was reading too much into things...looking for something that isn't there. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, b-bud? Eheh..." With an awkward chuckle you stood up, stepping away from the bar.

Away from him.

"I'll uh, leave you to it then. See ya later-"

"What if I lied?" Husk blurted before he could stop himself. The voice in his head was committing full arson on the wiring of his brain for being so stupid.

"H-huh?"

"Just now. What if I was lying? What if-what if you are a bigger deal to me?" He could feel his blood pounding in his veins, his heartbeat making everything sound muffled, like his head was stuffed with cotton.

But you weren't leaving anymore.

"Wh-well...I don't know, really..." You mumbled, arms wrapping around your middle in a hug. "I have some ideas but..." You met his gaze again, a small smile on your lips that definitely didn't make his stomach feel funny, or make the world seem pink and bright.

"Ideas?" The cat demon whispered, finally setting his rag and bottle down onto the counter. He suddenly found himself leaning closer to you over the bar, uncaring of the wood digging into his chest and unwilling to pull away again. Especially not when you got back into your seat, leaning closer to him too.

It felt like the world slowed to a crawl as you smiled at him, one of your hands sliding across the counter to nudge his hand. Gentle. Hesitant.

"Well, dinner always sounds nice yeah? If that was something you'd like to do~" You cooed. He couldn't stop the small smile he gave you even if he wanted to.

"I'd uh, have to agree. On the dinner. Dinner is always good." Fucking god above just have Alastor step in and crush his soul right now, he sounds so fucking idiotic-

"Great!" You perked up immediately. "I know this niche little place a couple blocks from here, they hardly ever get robbed cause no one notices them. They have some pretty good steak and whiskey." You looked at him hopefully, like the promise of meat with some quality whiskey wasn't his absolute dream date.

How did you get more perfect the longer he spoke to you? Wasn't the point of being perfect that you couldn't improve anymore? And yet here you were, somehow proving it was possible with no effort.

"I think I'd like that darlin'." His fingers found their way in-between yours, entwining your hands together.

Yeah, dinner sounded real nice.

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Heist Society by Ally Carter

When Katarina Bishop was three, her parents took her on a trip to the Louvre…to case it. For her seventh birthday, Katarina and her Uncle Eddie traveled to Austria…to steal the crown jewels. When Kat turned fifteen, she planned a con of her own—scamming her way into the best boarding school in the country, determined to leave the family business behind. Unfortunately, leaving “the life” for a normal life proves harder than she’d expected.

Soon, Kat's friend and former co-conspirator, Hale, appears out of nowhere to bring Kat back into the world she tried so hard to escape. But he has a good reason: a powerful mobster has been robbed of his priceless art collection and wants to retrieve it. Only a master thief could have pulled this job, and Kat's father isn't just on the suspect list, he is the list. Caught between Interpol and a far more deadly enemy, Kat’s dad needs her help.

For Kat, there is only one solution: track down the paintings and steal them back. So what if it's a spectacularly impossible job? She's got two weeks, a teenage crew, and hopefully just enough talent to pull off the biggest heist in her family's history--and, with any luck, steal her life back along the way.

Amulet by Kazu Kibuishi

After the tragic death of their father, Emily and Navin move with their mother to the home of her deceased great-grandfather, but the strange house proves to be dangerous. Before long, a sinister creature lures the kids' mom through a door in the basement. Em and Navin, desperate not to lose her, follow her into an underground world inhabited by demons, robots, and talking animals.

Eventually, they enlist the help of a small mechanical rabbit named Miskit. Together with Miskit, they face the most terrifying monster of all, and Em finally has the chance to save someone she loves.

The War That Saved My Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Ten-year-old Ada has never left her one-room apartment. Her mother is too humiliated by Ada’s twisted foot to let her outside. So when her little brother Jamie is shipped out of London to escape the war, Ada doesn’t waste a minute—she sneaks out to join him.   So begins a new adventure of Ada, and for Susan Smith, the woman who is forced to take the two kids in. As Ada teaches herself to ride a pony, learns to read, and watches for German spies, she begins to trust Susan—and Susan begins to love Ada and Jamie. But in the end, will their bond be enough to hold them together through wartime? Or will Ada and her brother fall back into the cruel hands of their mother?

Ascendance by Jennifer Nielsen

In a discontent kingdom, civil war is brewing. To unify the divided people, Conner, a nobleman of the court, devises a cunning plan to find an impersonator of the king's long-lost son and install him as a puppet prince. Four orphans are recruited to compete for the role, including a defiant boy named Sage. Sage knows that Conner's motives are more than questionable, yet his life balances on a sword's point—he must be chosen to play the prince or he will certainly be killed. But Sage's rivals have their own agendas as well.

As Sage moves from a rundown orphanage to Conner's sumptuous palace, layer upon layer of treachery and deceit unfold, until finally, a truth is revealed that, in the end, may very well prove more dangerous than all of the lies taken together.

The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi

An ocean voyage of unimaginable consequences... Not every thirteen-year-old girl is accused of murder, brought to trial, and found guilty. But I was just such a girl, and my story is worth relating even if it did happen years ago. Be warned, however: If strong ideas and action offend you, read no more. Find another companion to share your idle hours. For my part I intend to tell the truth as I lived it.

The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

Every year, the people of the Protectorate leave a baby as an offering to the witch who lives in the forest. They hope this sacrifice will keep her from terrorizing their town. But the witch in the forest, Xan, is kind and gentle. She shares her home with a wise Swamp Monster named Glerk and a Perfectly Tiny Dragon, Fyrian. Xan rescues the abandoned children and deliver them to welcoming families on the other side of the forest, nourishing the babies with starlight on the journey. 

One year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby moonlight instead of starlight, filling the ordinary child with extraordinary magic. Xan decides she must raise this enmagicked girl, whom she calls Luna, as her own. To keep young Luna safe from her own unwieldy power, Xan locks her magic deep inside her. When Luna approaches her thirteenth birthday, her magic begins to emerge on schedule--but Xan is far away. Meanwhile, a young man from the Protectorate is determined to free his people by killing the witch. Soon, it is up to Luna to protect those who have protected her--even if it means the end of the loving, safe world she’s always known.

Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter

When orphaned, eleven-year-old Pollyanna comes to live with austere and wealthy Aunt Polly, her philosophy of gladness brings happiness to her aunt and other unhappy members of the community.

Paddington Bear by Michael Bond

Mr. and Mrs. Brown first met Paddington, a most endearing bear from Darkest Peru on a railway platform in London. A sign hanging around his neck said, "Please look after this bear. Thank you" So that is just what they did.

From the very first night when he attempted his first bath and ended up nearly flooding the house, Paddington was seldom far from imminent disaster. Jonathan and Judy were delighted with this havoc and even Mr. and Mrs. Brown had to admit that life seemed to be more filled with adventure when there was a bear in the house.

Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke

A dragon. A boy. A journey. Firedrake, a brave young dragon, his loyal brownie friend Sorrel and a lonely boy called Ben are united as if by destiny. Together, they embark on a magical journey to find the legendary place where silver dragons can live in peace for ever. With only a curious map and the whispered memories of an old dragon to guide them, they fly across moonlit lands and seas to reach the highest mountains in the world. Along the way, they discover extraordinary new friends in unlikely places and a courage they never knew they had. Just as well, for the greatest enemy of all is never far behind them - a heartless monster from the past who's been waiting a very long time to destroy the last dragons on earth.

Wings by Aprilynne Pike

Laurel was mesmerized, staring at the pale things with wide eyes. They were terrifyingly beautiful—too beautiful for words.

Laurel turned to the mirror again, her eyes on the hovering petals that floated beside her head. They looked almost like wings.

[burr-ell]

25. mistletoe kiss

It was a frigid evening in Emon as Vex and Vax met outside Scanlan's house—his "mansion", as he insisted on calling it, even though it was a fairly standard-issue suburban two-story. (Though if he could pay a mortgage in this housing market, Vex thought, he might deserve to call it whatever he wanted. Not that she'd tell him that.) Vax was rubbing his parka-covered arms up and down after elbowing his car door closed and Vex had her hands firmly tucked into her peacoated sides after locking her motorcycle. Home though Emon might now be, they were southerners through and through, and no amount of elven blood was about to change that. This party had better be worth it.

They trudged silently up the driveway, taking note of the cars that were already parked. Vex spotted Keyleth's red electric sedan and Pike's white, slightly dinged SUV and a couple others she didn't recognize. A little early to tell, then.

No, she was not looking for Percy. But if she was, she knew he wasn't here yet.

They reached the doorstep, both scuffing their boots on the mat as Vex knocked. Mercifully, Scanlan answered quickly and ushered them inside.

"Thanks," Vax gasped as the twins kicked off their shoes. "It's freezing out there."

"Nothin' like booze to fix that!" Scanlan said cheerfully. "C'mon, party's this way."

He led the way downstairs to his basement, from which jaunty tunes were thumping through the floorboards (with a lot more bass than was customary for standard Winter's Crest carol fare). Vex got to the door first and was promptly halted in her tracks.

"Soooooooo," Scanlan drawled from somewhere around her hips as he sidled up to her, "whaddaya think?"

Vex stared. "Well, it's certainly...colorful."

An understatement if ever there was one. Winter's Crest baubles shone bold jewel tones in the light of strings upon strings of vivid multicolored fairy-lights. Garlands were strung about on the wall crown, but instead of the usual green, they were Scanlan's signature purple, accented with sparkling gold bows. The actual overhead lights were turned off in exchange for rotating light projectors in various colors. And if that wasn't enough, the serving bar in front of the kitchen was covered in bottles of various wines and liquors whose array of colors was reflected back on the side walls.

It was a Scanlan party, alright.

"So who all's here?" Vex asked casually as she crossed the threshold, Vax following her and making a beeline for the bar.

"Pike, Keyleth, some of my old band, and Grog and Percy are on their way." Scanlan grinned. "And I'll let you in on a little something, just because you're you—"

He pointed to the window across the room. Even in this cacophony of color, Vex could clearly make out a sprig of mistletoe.

"Got em up all over the house," Scanlan said gleefully. "I can't wait to see what happens if Grog and Vax just happen to get stuck under it."

Vex immediately followed her brother to the bar. For his own sake, she hoped he planned on some heavy drinking, and from the sounds of it, she could use a couple herself.

-+-

"Evening, Vex'ahlia."

She'd heard his footsteps, heard him greet Scanlan at the door, smelled the faint whiffs of cologne as he walked up behind her. How was she still unprepared when he greeted her? She took a quick, near-imperceptible steadying breath and turned away from an odd little painting she'd been inspecting to face him.

"Evening, Percival," she said, forcing the corners of her mouth up and hoping she looked natural instead of like she had just had a difficult medical procedure. "Busy day?" She cringed internally.

Percy shrugged. "Nothing too terrible. Victor actually let me out a little early; I fixed a faulty alternator that was giving him trouble."

"Very impressive," said Vex, and she meant it. She knew enough about cars to keep from getting swindled, but Percy's head for the inner workings was on another level.

"Thank you." His smile was cute. And handsome. And his bright blue eyes were crinkling up at the corners. Looking at his face was a mistake. "And how is Death From Above?"

Vex couldn't help laughing. It was still such a ridiculous name and barely made sense, but Percy made it work when he gave it. "Doing wonderfully, darling. As always, you're a miracle worker."

Percy grinned and preened in an endearing sort of way. "Hardly. I merely enjoy the work."

"I appreciate it all the same." She reached out to grab his arm on impulse, to rub a hand on it or hold it or whatever it was she did normally. But there was no normally with him anymore, something her slightly tipsy brain checked her on right in the middle of the motion. She pulled her hand back and swung it a little at her side, hoping against hope that she'd played it off, staring determinedly at a shiny bauble above Percy's shoulder.

"Hey, Vex, can I get your help with something?"

She could have sighed in relief at Vax's sudden appearance at her side. "Sure," she said, maybe a little too quickly. "Well, ah—see you, Percy."

Vax led them over to the bar, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring glasses for both of them. "Just so you know, this is aerated," he drawled.

"Oh, thank the gods," said Vex with a hand over her chest. "Imagine if it was one of those regular peasant wines."

"Perish the thought," said Vax, holding up his glass and grinning. "Cheers." Vex lifted hers and clinked the glasses together, and they both took a sip. It wasn't bad.

They were quiet for a moment or two, but Vax was pressing his lips together and determinedly avoiding her eyes. Vex frowned. "What is it?"

Vax sighed, then squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye. "How long are you gonna keep torturing yourself for?"

Vex lifted her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't gimme that," he said sternly. "You've been weird around him ever since the hospital. It's like we're in third grade or something. You've got to talk to him."

"That'll be a great conversation," she said irritably. "'So Pike thinks you came out of your coma because I confessed my undying love to you! Oh, you don't feel the same, of course, I'm sure it's-not-me-it's-you—"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," she snapped. Because why would she kid herself? Why would she set herself up for more heartbreak by hoping that maybe those smiles and soft conversations meant...

No. She's not going there. She won't.

Vax was staring at her, dumbfounded. "I'm supposed to be the stupid one, y'know," he said.

"Remember that," Vex snarked before taking another sip of wine.

"Every day," said Vax. "Don't change the subject." He sighed, put down his glass, and leaned forward on his elbows. "Look, Stubs, I'm not gonna tell you what to do; no one can. I'm just saying it's alright to go after a little happiness once in awhile."

"I am happy!"

"But you could be happier."

"It's not—" Vex huffed. "Everybody could be happier."

"And what would make you happier is being with him. Somehow," he added, and Vex rolled her eyes. He reached out to touch her wrist. "Look, he almost died. Life's about this stuff, y'know? Moments with each other. Just...don't let him slip away. You deserve to be happy, no matter what you think."

Vex sighed and took another sip of her wine, closing her eyes as if to savor it to avoid Vax's gaze. When she opened them, he was gone, already halfway across the room to chat with Grog and Pike.

Dick.

-+-

The chill is almost refreshing, Vex thought as she leaned against a post on Scanlan's porch. Then a breeze blew past, finding its way between each and every thread of her clothes to rattle her to the bone, and she shivered, shaking her head. Never mind, the cold still sucks.

But it was preferable, at least for the moment. The noise of the party, the pressure of the people...normally she liked it, but with everything on her mind at the moment it was just too much.

This shouldn't be weighing her down so much, should it? Wasn't being in love supposed to be good, even if the other person didn't feel the same way? Better to have loved and lost and all that? She should just be content with things as they were, right?

"Hi."

She sighed. It had to be him.

"Hey," she said dully, barely glancing back.

"Are you alright?" Percy walked up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "You hate the cold."

Vex took a deep breath to steel herself. "It's just...I've had a lot on my mind lately." How exactly was she to broach this subject? "How are you? I'm sorry—I should have asked."

"No, no," said Percy quickly. "No apologies necessary." He let go of her shoulder. Vex almost shook her head, exasperated with herself for missing his touch. "I'm...alright, I suppose. As well as I can be. I've been careful to avoid the bar, at least."

"Not a bad idea at Scanlan's place."

"Certainly not."

Vex pressed her lips together. "You know I...we really care about you."

"I scarcely deserve it, most days," Percy said with a wry smile. "But you've all shown me it's true regardless."

Vex frowned at him. "You do deserve it," she insisted. "If there's one thing I've learned from everything we've all been through, it's that you have to forgive yourself. I..." She swallowed. "I want that for you. We almost lost you, and I couldn't—"

She broke off, staring determinedly at a leaf on one of Scanlan's hedges. She wasn't going to break, she couldn't break.

But then again, Percival de Rolo had been taking her masks off for a long time now without even the slightest idea he was doing it.

She dared to look up and saw Percy's eyes widening, before flicking up to something on the porch ceiling and smiling slightly. "What's—"

And then he closed the distance and kissed her.

His hands were chilly as they held her face and his lips were already slightly chapped from the cold. Her eyes were blown wide open and she could see, up close, the rather awkward view of another person's face smushed up against hers. It didn't last long, either—just a few seconds before Percy pulled away.

And, she knew as she unconsciously brought her fingers up to her lips, it was the most wonderful kiss she'd ever had.

"Mistletoe."

Vex stared up at him. "What?" Was he really—

"I—there's mistletoe, up there—" The look on Vex's face must have conveyed her thoughts, because Percy immediately threw up his hands in panicked placation. "Not that that's—it's not the only reason—I mean, it was just a pretext, I thought—I should've clarified, I—"

"Percy." Vex reached up and took his face in her hands, a smile curving her lips. "How long?"

"Ages ago," he breathed, a puff of air dissipating between them. "I just never would've believed—"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips together guiltily. "I...I heard. At the hospital. It was the only thing I heard, and I—never would have thought, otherwise—"

"Why didn't you say anything before?" She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, to little avail.

"I just didn't think it was the right time," he said, avoiding her gaze. "And I didn't want to...embarrass you? By bringing it up? And we were all so busy, and I sort of hoped...well..." He was silent for a beat or two.

"Hoped what?" she pressed.

"I hoped...maybe...here, at the Winter's Crest party," he said, uncharacteristically bashful. "I thought the atmosphere would be—well, terribly romantic, and maybe the mistletoe would help just in case I was wrong, and—mmph!"

Vex flung her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his, delighting in his muffled yelp of surprise and even more so at how he turned his head to accommodate her, one arm around her shoulders and the other tugging her close by the waist. She pushed forward, giving her arms enough space to let one hand run through his hair, smiling in spite of herself against the kiss at his pleased little hum. Everything they'd gone through was leading up to this, this catharsis, and Vex was nothing if not a master of making anything worth her trouble.

She pulled back, grinning from ear to pointed ear at the dazed, dopey expression on his usually cool and collected face. "Mistletoe," she teased. "Can't let it go to waste, can we?"

He blinked slowly as if coming to. "Ah—no. I don't suppose we—"

"Wait a minute."

Vex glared up at the porch ceiling. Where Percy claimed hung a sprig of mistletoe was only a blank white space. "You said there was mistletoe here."

Percy frowned. "There was," he said. "I saw it, clear as day."

"Then wh—" Vex stopped short and slowly turned to one of the front windows. There was Scanlan, chatting with Gilmore, Kima, and that half-orc from his old band, and he caught her eye. He wiggled his fingers, casting an illusory mistletoe in midair and then dissolving it with a wink before turning back to his conversation.

"I should have known." Percy had come to look over her shoulder.

"I don't know whether to thank him."

"Oh, I do. I'm going to kill that bloody gnome."

2d20 kiss prompts

[dr-charlie-eppes]

SHOOTING MY SHOT - A RedFinch College AU

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, @kathreestars. I was your Secret Santa as part of the @newsies-secretsanta gift exchange. 

I really hope you love your gift. It is a RedFinch College AU, as per your request. I have never written either of these things, so I hope it’s good and in character (but no promises :D!) It turned out WAY longer than expected, too :P. Oopsie daisies! 

The story begins below the cut, and I will also include a link to when I have cross-posted AO3 (sometime in January).

Please enjoy!

“Shooting My Shot” - A RedFinch College AU

0000

It was the night before Albert moved out of his childhood home and went to college. He was nervous and excited and rushing through packing his boxes. Sure, he should have done this earlier, but that didn’t matter now. Folding his last sweatshirt into a box, his mind wandered.

Tomorrow was the first day of a new chapter of his life. He was about to move to New York City to study paediatrics, starting his career as a children’s nurse. It was what he’d wanted for years; he was more than happy it was coming true. All the same, he was full of nervous energy. The next few days held so many unknowns. He was struggling to wrap his head around what was going to happen next.

A small mountain of pristine cardboard boxes, a visual representation of what mattered enough to bring with him, lay before him. Each was adorned with a great many strips of duct tape to keep them shut. He hadn’t labelled any of them since he would just unpack them the second he arrived, and he only had to open them to know what was inside. It seemed like a waste of time to go digging through his things to find a Sharpie to deface the boxes.

His phone dinged twice is quick succession. One was from Jack, letting him know he was on his way over from next door. They were travelling to college together in the morning, seeing as they had made it into the same school. The second was from Race, wishing him luck.

Race had been Albert’s best friend since kindergarten. They hadn’t spent more than about three days apart since they met, living in each other’s back pockets and practically joined at the hip for as long as anyone could remember. They had planned on going to the same school, rooming together through college. However, Race had been accepted last minute to his dream school in Brooklyn and was leaving Albert, following his passion for dance. Albert wasn’t mad, not at all; in fact, he was thrilled for his friend. Brooklyn wasn’t that far, so he was sure they’d see each other often. However, without Race, he wasn’t sure who he’d be rooming with.

Continuing to pack his boxes, Albert’s mind wandered to his roommate situation. He was, admittedly, nervous. Without Race, he would be rooming with an unknown student. By the time he’d worked that out, the deadline had passed to submit a request to be paired with someone specific; He would be added to the lottery to be paired up at random with his new roommate. He was worried about that: sharing his space with a whole stranger, stuck together in close quarters, learning to get along. What if he was paired with someone disrespectful, or homophobic, or creepy, or just plain annoying? Albert knew he could be hard to get along with, tending to mistime jokes and miss queues, rubbing people the wrong way. He could sabotage their relationship without even knowing. And even if he didn’t, that didn’t guarantee it’d be smooth sailing. They might not get along, but what could they do? They’d be stuck together for at least two semesters. Dorm rooms were sometimes roomy, but not enough to avoid each other. 

The anxiety wasn’t productive: Albert knew that. He couldn’t help it. Change was hard; he didn’t feel ready.

And Jack Kelly was not helping matters. Sure, Jack was one of his best friends - basically a brother, really - but he was an ass. He would do anything to embarrass or inconvenience Albert. That was in part due to their prank war, which had started in ninth grade when Jack replaced his gym shorts with a purple tutu and was still going strong on their first day of college. Of course, he’d never miss an opportunity to get Albert back. Nothing was sacred, no object or situation safe from Jack’s interference. All things considered, Albert should have seen this coming.

Jack offered to help him carry them to the car; there were a few, and it was already late, so Albert accepted. That was his first mistake. Jack took one look at them and started goading him. 

“You should label your boxes, Al.” He said as he picked them up.

“No.”

Then, on the landing, “How are you gonna know what’s in ‘em? It’ll be a pain to unpack.”

“I know what I packed, Jack.”

“They look naked without labels.” He whined as they walked out the front door.

“Shut up.”

They started to load them into the car, slotting them in the trunk with the lightest ones on top. 

“What kind of psychopath just puts their stuff in a box and closes it up?” Jack questioned with an edge of challenge.

Albert rolled his eyes, taking a medium sized box - possibly containing his desk lamp - and stacking it on top of the others.

“This ain’t a pass-the-parcel, Al, you’re allowed to know what’s in the box.” 

“If you don’t shut up, Jackie, so help me, you’ll be trying to run without kneecaps.”

The seemingly endless prods and pokes continued as they loaded all his unlabelled boxes into the car. Jack continued his stream of nonsense, his arguments devolving into snipes and jabs. Albert shut the trunk forcefully, fixing Jack with a look.  

“I ain’t labelling ‘em,” he stated with finality, “I know what I packed, and I’ll just unpack when I get there. If they ain’t labelled, Ma can reuse the boxes for something else later without having to scratch the writing out. It’s just easier.”

Jack gave him an unconvinced look but shrugged and let it go. Al should’ve known that was suspicious. Jack never could back down from an argument. Why would this one have been any different?

His second mistake was leaving the car unlocked. They lived in a good area; there wasn’t any reason to lock it. Besides, who would want to steal a bunch of blank boxes full of sweatshirts and towels? However, this turned out to be his downfall. The lock was the only barrier between Jack and his boxes, the last defence. Without needing to steal Al’s mom’s keys, there was nothing standing in his way. He was free to wreak havoc on his things.

His third mistake was not checking his boxes in the morning. They were in a hurry to get on the road - which was not unusual - so Al planned ahead and double checked everything when he brought the boxes down. He knew he had everything he needed, saving time in the morning. Without those last minute checks, he had no chance of catching Jack's little prank before they arrived at the campus. 

Jack hadn’t let on that anything had happened. Crammed in the back seat, surrounded by his own boxes and bags, he appeared to the world perfectly angelic. Well, as angelic as Jack Kelly could be. In truth, he was the same snarky and sarcastic man he’d always been, cracking jokes like normal. Albert had no reason to suspect a thing.

So you could imagine his shock and regret when he lifted the trunk to find his boxes, all labelled in Jack’s scratchy block letters with obscene and embarrassing labels. Roadkill - California to Texas. Grandma’s ashes - This way up! (Decorated with arrows pointing to the bottom of the box, naturally). Meditation CDs - Pokémon, Ru Paul, My Little Pony. And right on the top, the Crown Jewels of Jack Kelly’s mayhem: Dildos - Size M-XL.

It was hard to embarrass Albert - it really was. He’d spent his high school years being tormented and humiliated by Jack and had grown a tolerance for this kind of thing. Carrying a box labelled ‘dildos’ across campus was far from the worst thing he’d ever had to do. However, he did worry about what his roommate might think. If he was worried about being paired with a weirdo, others must be too. This was one of those first impressions you couldn’t take back. Joy of joys.

Undeterred, he grabbed the box and braced for impact. Making his way swiftly and unashamedly to his dorm, he ignored the stares and snickers of his peers. Look at my box of dildos, folks. Take it in. They could have guessed that this was a prank, but the surprise of it still caught most of them off guard. Albert pressed on through the crowds, rolling his eyes.

If they can’t tell that this is a joke, then they ain’t smart enough for college.

He just hoped his roommate could see the humour in it.

Speaking of his roommate, he rounded the final corner with his package. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see shadows moving under the door. Taking one final, bracing breath, Albert shuffled the box onto his forearm and pushed the door, embracing his fate.

A trick of timing, the universe’s cruel joke, caused Albert to enter the doorway at the precise moment that his new roommate fired a sticky dart from his Nerf gun. The dart shot through the air. It travelled with a great deal more speed than it should, zipping through the room. No doubt it would have continued into the hall had the doorway been empty. However, it was stopped by Albert’s moving box, adhering at the dead centre of the “O” in dildos.

All movement and sound stopped as Albert looked eyes with his new roommate.

What a first impression.

0000

Moments earlier, Finch had been alone in his dorm. The last few weeks had been a blur of emotions, and he was trying to wrap his mind around it before his new roommate arrived. His first impressions were often lacking, and he hoped that he could start out this relationship on the right foot.

His decision to come to this school had been rushed. Life had spiralled out of control, leaving bad blood between him and his folks. He got an offer to move here to Manhattan, far from them, and he jumped on it. His new life was stretched out in front of him. King of his own destiny, he surveyed his territory. And sure, a cramped college dorm room that he had to share with a stranger wasn’t much of a kingdom. But the hum of the radiator sounded like freedom, and the carpet was soft. He could learn to be happy here.

He was already unpacked, all three of his boxes piled up in the corner. In his hand, he held six plastic Nerf targets. He’d bought them at the dollar store in the ninth grade, using sharpshooting as an escape from life. Since then, his skills had grown, and he frequently moved them around to give himself more of a challenge. Mapping the room, he weighed his options. He was, of course, limited to his side of the room, which made it harder to place them in a way that would challenge him. Still, he was resourceful. And maybe his new friend - he really hoped they would get along - might let him spread them around a bit.

There was one classic place, though. In all the time he’d had these targets, one place stayed constant. He went and hung the first bullseye at the dead centre of the door on the inside. He could hit it with his eyes closed, in his sleep, or with his hands tied behind his back, but he didn’t care. The target on the door had been the most stable relationship he’d had in years, always there, always within reach.

He dumped the rest of the targets on his bed, liberating his Nerf gun from his backpack. It had been his first, and it was the favourite of his whole collection. Modelled like a sawed-off shotgun, it was easy to aim and familiar. He’d carried it with him everywhere since he’d gotten it. This little green and orange eyesore was practically an extra limb, an extension of Finch himself. He’d gotten more high-power guns since, ones that could throw darts faster than he could blink, but he loved this one the best. 

Loading in a sticky dart, he aimed for the door and pulled the trigger.

In a statistically remarkable series of events, someone pushed the door open at the precise moment he pulled the trigger. They got in the path of the dart, the new target of the shot. Thankfully, the person was carrying a box - otherwise, they would have been hit square in the chest; not exactly a great first impression. The dart, however, sailed gracefully through the room and stuck to the stranger’s box with a satisfying sticking noise. It lined up perfectly with the writing on the box, centred in the middle of one of the letters. If he’d been aiming for it, Finch would have been impressed with his shot. As it stood, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Bullseye, I guess.

0000

Both men stood, frozen in time. All the sound had been sucked from the room, leaving only a thick silence. Neither was sure what to do to break it. Albert wanted speak - he really did. Wanted to laugh, introduce himself, settle in. However, his mouth was dry, and any words died before they could reach his throat, all systems at a standstill. He couldn’t even walk through the door for fear he would break the spell.

Why? Well, the man in front of him - his new roommate, the one holding the Nerf gun - was insanely hot.

He looked like a Renaissance painting. Classically beautiful, without being plain. A long thin face that reminded Albert distantly of a horse, smooth angles that caught the light and held it. Bright pearlescent teeth and unnaturally brown eyes. He looked as if he had stolen the light from the sun, soaking in its warmth and making it his own. All his brightness and sharpness was contrasted with his soft, green sweatshirt and bare feet, the picture of domesticity. All of it was at odds with the keenness of his shot, the Nerf gun still aimed dangerously at Albert’s chest. Nonetheless, every inch of him was beautiful.

Of all the things he’d been afraid of, falling in love with his roommate was the least expected.

He was suddenly a lot more worried about his first impression.

0000

He needn’t have worried: because on the opposite side of the dorm, the same things were going through Finch’s head.

Finch had always been a sucker for a redhead; the man in front of him, with his strikingly fiery curls, was no exception. Every line of his face was beautiful - from the creases around his eyes to his goofy grin. His eyes were a sweet brown, like Nutella or hot cocoa, deep and inviting. They caught the light like a Pokémon trainer catches them all. His lips were pulling slowly out of a grin into a shocked gape. Even in his confusion, he was breathtaking. His arms cradled his moving box like Cupid cradles his bow - invitingly and full of undiscovered love. His legs were obviously strong, judging by the way his jeans were stretched over them. 

Finch couldn’t move or breathe or look away. He needed to lower his Nerf gun, introduce himself and explain, something, anything. Instead, he stood, transfixed and in awe. If this man were the moon, then Finch were the tides - unable to move without his say-so. His every thought was directed by this beautiful stranger.

His new roommate. 

His roommate.

His.

That snapped him out of it. 

0000

The beautiful stranger cleared this throat.

“Sorry!”

“Nice shot,” whispered Albert.

The stranger smiled, brushing the back of his neck. He spoke again.

“Uh, hi?”

Albert nodded. That was exactly what he’d been trying to say. 

“Hi.”

A moments more of silence settled around them. Neither was entirely sure how to come back from that introduction, and both were too transfixed by the other to risk saying the wrong thing.

Albert eventually found his courage. Shuffling his moving box onto one arm, he extended his hand in greeting.

“I’m Albert.”

Tossing his Nerf gun to his bed, the stranger followed suit.

“Patrick, but the guys back home called me Finch.”

“Why 'Finch'?” Albert asked.

“I put a bird in the principal’s office 'cause he was homophobic,” the boy - Finch - shrugged, “It’s my greatest achievement to date.” 

Albert didn’t know if he could fall more in love than he was already. His heart felt like it might explode. This adorable, Nerf-gun shooting, homophobe-hating man was all he could think about. He was distantly aware that he needed to bring his stuff in from the car, needed to put down the dildo box and unpack, but he was happy just standing in the doorway watching Finch.

However, his standing was misinterpreted by his new crush, who suddenly smacked his forehead and stepped to the side.

“Oh, sorry, I’m totally blocking the way. Come in.” He swept his hands to the side like a waiter, ushering Albert in.

He took his chance, stepping in and putting his box on the empty bunk. It tipped merrily onto one side, revealing another of Jack’s secret messages. Albert flopped his head back with a groan. Finch caught sight of the new scribble as well. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Albert excused himself to get the rest of his boxes from the car, but also so he could get some fresh air. Finch was beautiful and badass. He was unlike any other guy Albert had met. If he blew his chance with him, well, he’d never forgive himself. He might be getting ahead of himself, but he kept wondering what Finch might look like in a tux and what song their first dance would be to. His mom had always called him a hopeless romantic, so had Jack. He was inclined to agree. He loved the idea of falling in love and marrying his favourite person ever, having a husband to share life’s moments with. And yeah, he’d only known Finch for ten minutes, but every fibre of his being seemed to think this guy was the perfect candidate. 

He daydreamed all the way back to the dorm, trying to think of something charming to say to Finch. A pickup line? Or maybe some poetry. Where was Jack when you needed him? That man could charm the pants off of anyone. Although, from memory, he and Davey met when Jack accidentally tipped his paint water out over the art room balcony and all over Davey’s head. 

As he stepped through the door of his dorm, he took a breath and prepared to ask Finch out. However, his new roommate was already speaking, pointing at the box on his bed.

“Okay, I gotta ask-“

“-It’s not dildos, I swear,” Albert cut him off.

“-who defaced your box?”

“Oh.” Wasn’t expecting that. “Um, Jack. Pain in my ass.”

Finch nodded, snickering, and gestured the box in Albert’s arms. This one read TIME MACHINE - DISASSEMBLED. 

“So is he ya boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Albert laughed - imagine him dating Jack, yuck - and clarified, “He’s sorta my brother? Lived next door to me and my Ma. He’s just up the hall now, helping Davey unpack.”

“Davey?”

“Jack’s boyfriend,” Albert shrugged. He wondered what Davey saw in Jack but decided not to think too hard. Davey was a least twice as smart as Albert would ever be; he would have his reasons. He expressed this to Finch, who laughed and offered a similar anecdote about a friend called Spot who was dating some extroverted Manhattan twink with a sarcastic streak a mile wide. 

“They’re perfect for each other because no one can understand them,” Finch smiled, “the peanut butter and jelly of people.”

They continued to laugh and talk about their friends, bonding over their weird friends with weirder names. 

Albert ducked out for more boxes. He moved every crass title from his car to his dorm, unpacking them as he went to discover their real contents. Finch offered the help him carry them back to his mom’s car when they were empty.

On the way, he asked about Jack’s prank again.

“So, Jack’s a prankster?”

Albert nodded, “Yeah, we’ve had a prank war going since the ninth grade.”

“War, huh?” Finch raised an eyebrow. “How you’re gonna get him back?”

“No idea yet, but it’s gonna be big.”

Finch was sure that it would be. He told Albert as such.

“Let me know if you’ll be wanting help,” he smiled, playfully elbowing his ribs, “I’m a sharpshooter, after all.”

Albert wasn’t sure how that would come in handy, but he filed it away for later use.

0000

In their first week together, they circled around each other, teasing and testing. It was an easy tension of learning each other’s habits and personalities.

As it turned out, Finch was a troublemaker. With his keen eye and trained aimed, he and his Nerf gun could wreak all kinds of havoc. Albert found himself stuck with more darts than he’d ever seen. He learned to listen for the quiet ‘snick’ sound of the gun being loaded, hyper aware of the bright orange darts as they landed around him. 

Finch used his talents for good, sometimes, shooting bananas off the hand with a carefully modified ‘knife dart’ - which turned out to be a Nerf dart with a straightened out paper clip in it. He could also switch the lights off from his bunk with one flick of the trigger. Both were pretty cool tricks, but Al found himself loving Finch’s cheeky moves more.

He had returned to the dorm after class to find that Finch had used his posters as target practice, using strategically placed darts to block out certain letters and leave crude messages for him. The next day, he was greeted with a flurry of darts as he entered the room, Finch raining down on him with his most quick-firing gun. He also left Albert notes on the dorm door, where anyone could read them - thanks for letting me borrow your toothbrush! and Adam from the butt-lift place called - they can fix your pancake butt! and Where’s the haemorrhoid cream?

Albert loved it. In return, he reset Finch’s ringtones to weird and embarrassing sounds and short-sheeted his bed. He also stole Finch’s hats and sweatshirts, basically combining their wardrobes into one mega-wardrobe. He also replaced all of Finch’s stationery with sticks of gum, which turned out to be less of a prank and more of a genius ice-breaking hack. 

They grew closer. All the pranks led to them getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes, their insecurities and routines. The more Albert learnt, the more he wanted to know. Finch was becoming his best friend. The crush he was nursing grew into a warm and unexplainable thing. Each passing day brought new moments of friendship and growth. Finch challenged him, distracted him, entertained him. He was bright and annoying, glued to his hip like a loyal puppy and floating around him. Albert grew to love his company, loved how he would ask questions while you studied - that was more helpful than he could have known, helping Albert to identify the gaps in his knowledge. Finch was the puzzle piece he had been missing.

Finch felt the same, although Albert didn’t know that. He loved the way that Albert would respond to his cheek and snark with jibes of his own. Albert enjoyed his pranks and put thought and time into retaliating. He was quieter than Finch, happy to just share the room with you without needing conversation to fill the void. He seemed to light up when Finch asked him questions, explaining the complex medical topics he was learning. He was full of adrenaline and grace, not often static. Finch found himself following Albert’s movements when he paced, drawn in. Albert was his muse. He couldn’t get enough of the beautiful redhead.

0000

At the opening of their second week, Albert returned to their dorm with a twinkle in his eye and a bagel in his hand. Finch, with Nerf gun in hand, shot a dart into the hole of the bagel.

“You!” Pointed Albert.

“Me?” Questioned Finch playfully.

“How would you like to help me get back at Jack?”

Finch nodded, “I’m in. What’s the play?”

As it turned out, Jack had planned a secret date for Davey. They hadn’t had a lot of time since coming to college, so Jack wanted to do something nice. He’d told Albert that he and Davey were going to have a picnic on the sports fields in the evening. Super romantic, at least it was supposed to be. 

“I want to crash their party,” explained Albert, “but I need your help.”

He then explained that they needed a way to get in and out fast. If they lingered, Jack’s wrath would rain down upon them. Speed is of the element, Finchy, Albert had said. Luckily, Albert had become sort-of friends with one of the security guards. This guard, Denton, agreed to ‘accidentally’ leave the keys in one of the school’s golf carts for their use. As long as they returned it in one piece, no one would be the wiser. 

“Where do I come in, Al?” 

“I want you to get your best Nerf gun -one o’ those ones that shoot really fast. While I'm driving, I want you to spray ‘em with darts. I got some toilet paper to throw. I just didn’t think that was enough. Plus, you’ve got a wicked sense of aim. I could use a little help.”

It was a solid plan. Like Jack’s box prank, it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Albert assured him Davey would think it was funny too. He was almost as much a part of the war as Jack or Albert. If anything, he'd take it as an invitation to get his own revenge. No one’s day’s gonna be ruined. 

“I’m your guy,” smiled Finch, “when do we start.”

“We ride at six. Wear something stealthy.”

0000

Six o'clock rolled around quickly. Finch had ducked out to the dollar store, picking up some more sticky darts. When he returned, he found Albert. His crazy roommate was dressed like a cartoon cat-burglar, complete with a black turtleneck and war paint. He was hastily stuffing toilet rolls into his backpack. They were armed to the teeth with Nerf darts, toilet paper, and biodegradable party confetti. 

“Looking good, Al,” laughed Finch.

He was also dressed for the occasion, a mismatched all-black ensemble. He even opted for some fingerless gloves he saw at the store. He had never been one to half-ass a prank. Besides, going all out might impress Albert. 

“Ready?” 

“Born ready, Finch.”

“Funny, I thought you were born ‘Albert.’”

A roll of toilet paper hit him in the head.

0000

The plan was in motion.

Denton had left the cart parked by the dormitories. They were set to go, just waiting for confirmation that Jack was in position. Sure enough, Davey posted a sappy picture on his Snapchat story, toting Jack’s merits as a caring boyfriend. They were clearly on the sports field, spread out on an honest-to-goodness checked rug, picnic basket and all. The sunset painted pastel lines behind them.

As the light of sunset faded to night, they started up the cart. Crammed in with the ammo and a truly gigantic nerf gun, Albert and Finch were pressed into each other’s sides. Unbeknownst to them, both were enjoying the contact, pining for more than just the necessary contact of the cart. They drove at agonisingly slow speeds towards the sports fields, staying in the cover of the shadows of the campus. If they were caught, it would all be over. Luckily, the pair thrived on adrenaline.

Their trip to the sports fields was short and silent. Albert couldn’t help but hold his breath as if the sound of it might give their location away. It didn’t occur to him that the sounds of the cart would get them caught before his breathing would. Finch kept directing him with hand signals, guiding the cart through a maze of secret tunnels that kept them hidden.

Eventually, the great secrecy of it all got the better of them. Albert could picture them, both dressed like the bad guys in a cartoon spy movie, zooming through the campus with reckless abandon. They weren’t going fast at all - he thought it might not even bruise if he fell out of the cart. But here they were, leaning and ducking with each move as if they were in a Fast and Furious movie. Finch was holding onto the roof to stabilise himself. They were surrounded be a hoard of completely harmless weapons, yet they acted as if they were heading into a war. That last thought, along with the image of what they must look like, cause Albert to giggle. 

Once.

Twice.

A snort.

Then Finch started. 

Their silent voyage was overrun with laughter. Finch was shaking, trying to contain his sounds. Albert was hiccuping out barks of laughter. The noise grew until it drowned out the hum of engines. Try as they might, there was no stopping it. Tears filled Albert’s eyes. Finch took hold of the wheel and directed the cart as he snorted. They continued on, the most joyful caravan in the country. They couldn’t stop their noise until they saw the sports fields.

It was a bracing and sobering experience. Two weeks of thinking and planning had led them to this. The importance of their mission overcame their joy. They pulled their adrenaline back in, the noise level dropping below the noise of the cart. It was time.

The light from the fake tea light candles on the rug guided them. A moment of quiet and a few hand gestures revealed that there would be no way to sneak up on them. The cart was too big, the moon too bright. The element of surprise would be lost too quickly if they approached cautiously. Albert made the motion for ‘step on it’, pressing his palm out in front of him. Finch nodded. Mouthing the words, Albert counted down from three. He threw the golf cart into gear, shredding across the lawn at max speed.

The pickup in speed caused them both to shout. Any semblance of sneaking in was abandoned as Albert and Finch began a deafening war cry of whooping and cheering. They bounced across the field, the cart shaking with effort. One hand on the wheel, Albert loaded himself with a roll of toilet paper. Finch aimed his Nerf scope, fixed on the happy couple.

Jack caught sight of them too late. 

“ALBERT!”

A shower of Nerf darts cut off his cries. Albert hit him square in the chest with a roll of paper. Davey, shocked and excited, burst out gleefully at the shower of multicoloured confetti, picking up handfuls and tossing them at his boyfriend.

The drive-by took only a few seconds. There was chaos as they unloaded all they had at Albert’s friends. It would long be remembered as the highlight of the whole prank war. The picnic rug, previously set out romantically with breadsticks and candles, was now littered with darts and rolls of paper and a sprinkling of reflective paper strips. It was glorious. Strangely, it looked like the leftover mess from a child’s birthday party. In Albert’s eyes, this was perfect revenge.

“That’s for the boxes, Kelly!” He screamed as they sped off.

The cart barrelled across the fields and out of sight, leaving Jack and Davey in its wake. The boys, happy with their successful mission, tore off into the night in fits of giggles once more. They didn’t stop until they were well out of sight. Only when they had pulled the cart to a stop outside the security office did they finally calm down.

Pressed close and sweating awfully, they breathed through the rush of adrenaline. The whole evening had come to a crescendo. They both smiled, calming down.

“That was awesome,” Albert laughed, “Thank you, Finchy.”

Finch slung an arm around him, “Always, Al.”

They stayed intertwined for a second. Albert liked the feel of being so close to Finch, tucked into his chest safe and warm. He didn’t want to pull away, but he was becoming more aware of how close they were. This was closer than friends. He was sure Finch knew that.

Pulling back, he looked to his roommate. 

“Finch?”

“Hmm?”

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He was going to say something.

“Would ya like it if we-“

He was cut off by Finch’s lips on his. 

Oh, yeah, let’s do that.

His brain went offline, surprised by the kiss. Finch’s lips were dry from the cold night air but soft and cool against his own. He could feel the flush of Finch’s cheeks. He gasped through his noise - a noise of shock and approval.

Finch pulled back as he tried to reciprocate. He looked him cautiously in the eyes.

“I sure hope I didn’t read that wrong.”

Albert chuckled. He pulled him in by the shirt, nearly tipping Finch out of the cart with his enthusiasm. This kiss was perfect. Longer and deeper than the other, they were chest to chest by the end. They weren’t yet used to this motion, so their chins and noses bumped as they moved, prompting little giggles between their lips. It was the happiest kiss Albert had ever had. Finch was warm and close and all his for a few moments.

Finch bit his nip with a mock growl, pulling back to smile at him. Albert looked flushed and overwhelmed. However, the smile that split his face betrayed his emotions.

“I hope that’s my last first kiss ever,” Finch whispered.

Albert looked shocked, but his smile didn’t fade. 

“Okay,” he nodded.

They tumbled out of the cart a minute later. They knew that wasn’t the end of it. Finch was sure he wanted to marry Albert, but there was more to do. They needed to get to know each other more and finish college and meet each other’s families. They weren’t at the end yet, but this was a damn good place to start. 

They walked back to the dorm with hands intertwined. No matter what happened next, Albert knew this was the start of a beautiful life.

0000

He was right, too. He and Finch got married six years later, after college. Never had there been a better couple, better friends, or better lovers. They had grown into the most badass and unstoppable team.

They drove away from their wedding with cans tied to the back of a golf cart.

0000

Again, happy holidays and seasons greetings, @kathreestars. Hope this is everything you hoped for. Best wishes, Corbin.

[statticscribbles]

Branch Evolution

Summary: There’s a reason the Ghoulies phrase is ‘Evolve or Die’; also featuring my personal headcanon about Malachai’s family

”What is it Lance.” Malachai snaps at the boy who nervously stands in front of him. “I was just wondering..” “No fuck off; I’m not giving you a day off or listening to your teenage woes; or college essays or… Fine you got ten seconds; spit.” “How did the Ghoulies come to be?” “I started the gang; you idiot.” “But why; how and-”

“You keep asking questions and i’ll…” Malachai doesn’t finish; hand brushing over the knife he keeps embedded in the couch. “Course; sorry to bother you.” “Hey kid; grab a milkshake at pop’s would you.” Lance nods gripping the list and money that Malachai had tossed to him. He leaves to laughter and Malachai settles back into his chair.

“Seriously how did you form.” Penny asks fingers curling around the beer bottle she’d gotten. “You should know; you’re old enough to remember us forming.” Malachai grins at her and she laughs, shaking her head. “I may be but I never knew you before this southside; issue shall we say.” Malachai grins and sighs through his nose. “Liar.” He snarls, shoving past the incoming Ghoulies to retreat into his bedroom.

”I don’t give a fuck! That’s oppressive and outdated and SHIT!” Malachai stumbles back when the fist hit’s his jaw and he growls standing up and sneering. “You can beat me till I’m half dead but like hell I’m letting my baby sister do that snake dance for a bunch of fuckin’ pervs. Least I have morals.” “It’s a Serpent right! It’s our laws!” “Laws can be changed; she’s-” “Just cause she’s your kid sister don’t make a difference; my kids will do the trials just the same if they want to join.” “We’re by blood ain’t no need for us to play initiate. We already live and breathe as snakes; we don’t have to prove ourselves to-” Malachai doesn’t finish shivering slightly as FP throws him out of the Wyrm. “You stay the fuck out Malachite.” FP sing songs and Malachai stands up, shoving FP back into the Wyrm.

“You call me that shit name again and I’ll rip the crown from your fucking dead fingers.” “But that’s who you are kid; crown prince of the Serpents, a jewel in the gang’s crown just like your sister. You did the trials and so will she.” “She’ll do ‘em but not that fuckin’ stripper dance you pass off as-” Malachai ducks his head sighing when Tall Boy pushes himself between the two. “Come on let it go; just for now; we ain’t accepting new members anyhow; it’s off season.” “Yeah, too many jobs, not enough bodies.” FP nods to Malachai who huffs before returning back to his house and trying to avoid the shouting that hasn’t stopped since his sister ran away.

Malachai doesn’t see FP again until two months later; he pushes it off as strategic job assignments; that FP wanted to avoid Malachai annoying him for as long as possible. All it did was give Malachai more and more of a motive; pulling at the ears and heartstrings of the Serpents and the other southsider’s that were loyal to him; that were indebted to him. He crafts himself a fringe community; pulling in anyone the Serpent’s shun; be it those that failed the trials; or those that were double crossed. Even a few of the die-hard snakes assure him they’ll stand with him; of course this is purely due to them falling out of favour with FP but Malachai will take what he is given and let it grow and evolve.

“Malachai, come on kid.” FP hovers in the door frame and Malachai half looks up from the couch, his upper body jerking forwards before the rest of him twists off the couch. “I ain’t a kid FP, just under ten years younger than you, and already head of the gang, took you years, and being in your daddy’s pocket to make it this far.” He grins and his teeth gleam in the shadows. “Ki-Malachai; seriously is this really over those dumb job assignments; I can-” “You can’t do shit FP; you lost your main source; the candyman and the flowers are mine now; you just slither on out of the garden of eden that is the Southside; go on.” “Enough; when will you see this is the problem; we should be united; not divided; the southside is all our homes; we all belong here.”

“Tell that to those that didn’t make it in the gang; those that you pushed and gave the worst jobs because they talked back or got too mouthy about traditions and rules like me. You dug your own grave Snake King.” “And you’re the fallen angel to save them from my wrath?” FP snaps back and Malachai tilts his head back laughing. “When did I call you a god in this FP? When would I ever worship you?” FP grimaces.

“Malachai just dissolve this little game and come back; I don’t want this…” “Want what FP; to fight for your territory? For your members? What happened to the snakes being a family? To the law; no serpent stands alone.” FP turns away and sighs dragging his hands down his face before he grabs Malachai and shoves him to the ground. “Don’t move kid.” It’s the last thing Malachai obeys from FP.

“What happened?” Penny asks, looking at the scar on Malachai’s back that runs onto his ribs, the skull tattoo covers most of it. “Cover up.” She rolls her eyes and jabs him, pulling his shirt as he covers it back up. “Let me see it kid.” She hisses at him and he grips her bandaged wrist shoving her off of him. “Serpent’s never shed their skin right?” He snarls in her ear. “As a snake you should know when one rattles and when to stay away.” Penny’s eyes widen surprised at how his voice drops down into threatening; how his words drawl out mimicking FP Jone’s speech pattern. Penny mulls it over slightly unsurprised that Malachai would use FP as a role model; the man was running a successful gang after all.

“So that’s why you’re so into the snakes; they’re like your ideal gang.” “They ain’t.” Malachai snaps and Penny arches an eyebrow. “Well it’s obvious the Serpents are a sore spot for you; not have the stomach to make it in?” She taunts wondering how easy it’ll be to rile him up if the implication of touching a bar fight wound was enough to make him bristle. “You shut it.” “Oh no dead boy walking. I’m going to talk about my gang as long as I want. The Serpents are my family and even if they cut me out I’m still one of them. And I want back in.”

“You think you’ll get special treatment cause you’re their lawyer? Being special like that; being more than a random member don’t get you nothing when you commit a crime against them.” “Sounds like some of your members have experience with that.” Penny grins but wipes it off her face when Malachai just nods to the other ghouls clustered around. “Out.” They follow his order and each pat Penny on the shoulder, none of them look her in the eyes.

“You should know better Penny. You should be more careful. Evolve or Die. Stop talking about the half done snakes and start talking about what we all become when we die; ghouls.” “Oh so scary; spooky ghosts.” She laughs carefully maneuvering her wrist out of Malachai’s reach; he simply leans over her; fingers digging into the bandages until he sees red on them. “Listen Penny. Evolve or Die.” “I get it your dumb catch phrase.” “You think getting a little skin off your arm hurts; that after throwing yourself at my mercy they’re gonna let you back in?” “God they must’ve rejected you something fierce.”

“No; I made it in. I was just like you; except i didn’t want to ride FP’s dick straight into a high position or jail. I wanted to stop all the shit they praise and pass off in the Serpents. I wanted them to be better; to grow.” He grins at her and she stares in his eyes as hers widen in fear “Evolve or die. You catch my drift Penelope?” Malachai hums and then swipes his hair back pulling it up so it’s out of his face; miming as if it’s slicked back. “Malachite.” He breathes into her ear and she stiffens.

“Oh; you really didn’t know then? How; cute.” He pauses returning back to his chair and tapping the wall. Before Penny can move the Ghoulies swarm back in and she retreats outside; shaking and unable to look at Malachai.

“Told you then?” Lance asks, offering a shake towards her from another Pop’s run. Penny’s convinced he’s doing something besides playing gopher but she’s not really sure of anything anymore. “Malachite Topaz; one of the great-grandkids of the Serpent founders. Yeah shocked me too when I found out. How’d you figure it out? I managed to see his scar; nasty piece of work.” “Yeah can’t believe he; how did he get it?” “Same way you got yours; Jones carved him up.” Penny turns looking horrified. “Jones carve-” “Yeah something went off in FP that day; he was right mad according to everyone that saw; pinned Malachai to the ground and sliced off his serpent tattoo; poor kid got it on his side and back; one of those big snakes eating itself.” “He’s older than you.” Is all Penny manages to say trying not to picture a younger Malachai on the ground alone and bleeding. “Yeah; he treats us like family; i think it’s cause of his little sister; I’m the same age as her apparently. We go to school. I give him updates whenever he needs.”

“And when does he need?” Penny laughs a little and Lance waves the shake in his hand. Penny thinks back to how he seems to always have on in his hand; what she had thought a teenage addiction was the second cover up she’d seen that day. She thinks about Malachai for a moment longer; how desperate he is to appear tough; to appear strong and she doesn’t have to wonder for very long why anymore; she slowly unwinds the bandage on her wrist surprised when Malachai’s hand offers her clean ones.

“You should wash it first; it’ll burn like a mother fucking asshole but it’ll be better that it getting infected and you ending up half dead in the hospital.” “Course; Evolve or die right.” She tries to be casual; tries to wave off his concern but she lets him lead her back towards the house of the dead and she wonders if it’s really all that bad to come back as a ghoul.

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[archonssun]

Proposal HCs

This is so cute!!!!! As soon as I saw this, I realized I’ve never really figured Nyx’s character out, so I must apologize in advance if he seems ... strange. But I will still try! I won’t get better if I only write for characters I’m comfortable with!

Proposal HCs

WC: 1720

Prompto Argentum

(Note: this will take place in the first five years after Noct is taken by the Crystal)

You and Prompto have been together for about four years after you two literally ran into each other in the Citadel lobby.

He had just started his Crownsguard training, and you were an assistant to one of the King’s council members.

You were carrying papers that were stacked pretty high, and he was so nervous about training that he didn’t see you walking towards him. When y’all collided, you were fine, but your papers flew everywhere. And I mean everywhere. They were still finding papers a few months later.

As soon as you hit each other, Prompto was snapped out of his daze and his beautiful blue eyes were wide with fear. He’d already fucked up, and he hadn’t even started!

He was quick to try and help you gather the papers, and it was when he looked you in the eyes that he accidently asked you out. Even years later, you would tease him: “How do you accidently ask someone out?” “It just slipped, okay?!”

Coming back to present, he was really nervous. It had happened during a pretty peaceful day about a year after Noct disappeared. You two were just chilling in Hammerhead, waiting for your next hunt. You were inside Takka’s old diner, sitting in one of the few remaining booths.

Prompto’s arm was around your shoulders, keeping you close against him, and you had rested your head against his shoulder. As he watched you fall asleep, he knew that he wanted to marry you.

The thought was surprising, to say the least, and he immediately tensed up, which woke you up.

“What’s wrong, Prom?”

“It’s nothing, (N/n). Get some rest, ‘kay?”

He sat on that thought for almost another five years before he actually asked.

This time it was after a hunt. The daemons had been getting stronger over the past couple years, and this was the first night he thought he wouldn’t come back alive. And as soon as he saw you in Hammerhead, waiting for him, he almost broke down.

You two had been intimate before, but that night was ... something else. Prompto was frantic, almost like he wasn’t sure he was still here with you. (You wouldn’t know what had happened on that hunt until a few years later). And it was rough. Not like he was never rough during sex; he’d get that way sometimes, more often than not after a taxing hunt. But that time he was sloppy, and afterwards he was more cuddly than usual. 

That’s when it slipped.

“(Y/n),” Prompto mumbled into your shoulder, your back flush with his chest as his lips ghosted across your skin. His arms around you tightened as his nose nuzzled into your hair. You hummed, consciousness quickly fading. You were nearly asleep when he spoke up.

“Marry me.”

That got you awake, and you shot up, bringing him with you. You turned to face him, to maybe find some sort of sign that he had been joking or not. But he hadn’t been; his eyes were focused on you, and you were quickly falling into them.

“(Y/n)?” Prompto frowned. You realized you hadn’t said anything, and shook yourself.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious,” he retorted, his frown deepening slightly. “I want to marry you. I’ve known for years, but I never--”

“Yes.” His ocean eyes were wide as saucers as you took his face in your hands. You brought your face before his, your lips barely touching “Of course I’ll marry you, Prompto.”

“Gods, I love you,” he groaned, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Ignis Scientia

Ignis would probably be the most romantic when he asks you, to be honest. (He’d also be kind of like Kunikida from Bungou Stray Dogs (at least, I think so) in the fact that he’d only ask you after a certain amount of time has passed.)

When he asks, you two had been together for six years, knowing him when he was a teenager. It surprised Noct when he found out his future advisor had a significant other. The poor boy was speechless when he first met you. You were a snarky little spitfire that rivalled Ignis at every turn, even in cooking, and the crown prince had difficulty deciding who he was more scared of enjoyed having over to cook.

You got along with the prince right from the start, and you rarely treated him as royalty, which he appreciated.

The day you met Gladiolus Amicitia was the day Noctis swore off every trying to spar with you. For having no formal training, you kicked ass. Gladio’s, to be specific. And Ignis was just watching with a smirk, like he knew what was going to happen.

N e ways, you joined the boys on their journey after they had reached Lestallum to meet up with Iris. You had gotten out with the young Amicitia, and during your travels to Lestallum, you regaled her with the stories of you kicking her brother's ass (yes, it happened more than once)

Ignis was loathe to let you come with, but after he had watched you tear into a man that had gotten too close to Iris, his was miraculously fine with it (in actuality, he knew you’d kick his ass if he tried to talk you out of it, and he decided that letting you come with would lead to less broken bones for the bros, specifically him tho)

When he asked, you were in Altissia (Cliche? Yes. Romantic? Fuck yes)

Y’all were to help with evacuating the city the next day, and they all thought that you all deserved a little breather before then. So you and Iggy went walking around the city. (okay, he doesn’t really ask you, per se, but you’ll see what I mean...)

“(Y/n),” Ignis called, and you turned (e/c) hues to him. You were smiling broadly, which caused him to smile in return. “How was tonight, love?”

“It was perfect, Iggy,” you cooed, hugging his arm and resting your head on his bicep. Your eyes turned to face forward, and Ignis reached into his pocket. His touch was featherlight as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

At the feel of cold metal on your hand, you looked down and your heart nearly stopped. He had placed a beautiful band on your ring finger. It was carved to match Ignis’s daggers, complete with an emerald gem flanked by two smaller and paler green jewels.

“Ignis--”

“I love you, (Y/n),” he interrupted, and you cocked an eyebrow. He exhaled a quick breath before coming to stand in front of you and taking your hands in his. “I had planned to do this when we had gotten back to Insomnia, but then the Empire overtook the city and I thought you lost to me.

“I was so, so happy when I learned you were with Iris, and that you were alive and well,” he continued. With each word, his voice grew smaller and his eyes strayed from yours to gaze at the ground. After a pause, he met your eyes once more and gave you a delicate smile. “So, allow me to ask: would you marry me, (Y/n)?”

The tears fell from your eyes before you could stop them, but you were quick to wipe them away and give the man your brightest smile.

“Yes. Yes, Ignis, I’ll marry you,” you sputtered, wrapping your arms around the man that had stolen your heart oh so long ago. “It’s always been yes.”

Nyx Ulric

(Okay, here’s where I hit a bit of trouble. I tried to research what Nyx’s personality was like, and I think I found something? But I’m not sure, and so I’m going to be using a lot of artistic liberty with this one, along with some things I found on the FFXV Fandom Wiki (yeah, I know you can’t always trust it, but it was the only lead I got after researching for half an hour😑). Okay, obligatory warning over. Enjoy 😋)

You and Nyx were from the same area of Galahd. You grew up with him and Libertus, had even fought with them when your homeland was occupied by the Empire.

You were just a year younger than the fearless man, and it was known that wherever one of you was, the other couldn’t be far behind. And that was pretty accurate, actually. After his sister died, you were always at his side; both to reassure him that you were safe (cuz at that point he thought of you like another sister) and to keep an eye on him (he’d get pretty reckless sometimes *cough* saving Libertus from Cerberus *cough*)

It was only when you both joined the Kingsglaive that his feelings for you changed. Not that it surprised him, really, but what did surprise him was how little time had passed between him realizing his feelings and him knowing he wanted to marry you. Seriously, it was like a month, tops.

After that, it only took him four months to work up the courage to ask you.

In Galahd, they had different marriage customs, and that included asking for one’s hand in marriage. And each custom differed depending on the area one lived in Galahd. For him to ask you, he’d have to have something made for you; something with the symbol of his family on it. In this case, he had decided on a metal cuff in the shape of a Galahdian Coeurl -- the symbol of his family. The Coeurl’s one visible eye was a pale, almost icy blue to match his own, and it would coeurlurl around your wrist to bite its own tail.

You groaned as you rolled onto Nyx’s chest. You did not want to get up and go to work, especially after your and Nyx’s escapade last night. (E/c) eyes travelled down to your wrist, a soft smile reaching your lips as they were met with the bangle carved into a Coeurl. You felt the man below you stir, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“Morning, Nyx,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. You watched with a laugh as his face scrunched in disgust. The man sent you a glare, and you laughed more, almost wheezing when Nyx’s lips latched onto your throat.

“Morning, (N/n),” he groaned, nipping lightly at the skin. Your eyes went wide and you started to smack his back.

“Nyx! Don’t do that there! Everyone’ll see ‘em!” you hissed. Even though you had told him no, you were still disappointed when he retreated, but not for long. Nyx placed quick, light kisses all over your face with a smile until you had devolved into a giggling mess.

“C’mon, babe. We gotta get ready for work.”

You groaned before throwing a pillow at your fiancé.

--------

tagging @blackstrawberrynightmare​ cuz they requested this beautiful fluff😘

[lamaisongaga]

              LADY GAGA AT THE MTV VMAS 2020 PART I

Lady Gaga was obviously the best dressed of the night at the 2020 MTV Video Music Awards and she had not one, not two, but NINE different looks throughout the show.

She was the big winner of the night, taking home four awards including “Artist of the Year” and “Song of the Year”. She also was presented with the first-ever Tricon Award and she gave a powerful speech about the difficult year we’re all going through.

Styling by Nicola Formichetti and Marta Del Rio with assistance of Katrina Ld, Candace Lawrence, Garrett Ives and Juliana. Tailoring by Samuel Ososki, Alex Navarro and Conrad Muscarella. Makeup by Sarah Tanno-Stewart using Haus Laboratories, hair by Frederic Aspiras using Joico and nails by Miho Okawara. This is just the first part of our VMAs series, so let’s delve!

Because of the pandemic, every star had to have their own white carpet either at their home or studio of choice. And Gaga made sure she was the brightest of ‘em all!

She took us to space in this otherworldly AREA Fall/Winter 2020 couture metallic silver quilted heart-shaped parka which she accessorized with a custom Conrad Muscarella clear glass helmet.

Let’s get to the jewelry shall we? Gaga dripped in diamonds, starting off with this custom Edward Avedis petite sine wave gold diamond necklace.

All of her rings, diamond bangle and diamond curb link white gold bracelet are signed by jewelry designer Dena Kemp, a new name in her closet!

One of her rings is this square-cut emerald with diamond frame and band.

Enjoy thise close-up of her Miho Okawara grey & teal ombré stiletto nails!

The look was completed with the Pleaser Beyond-1020 black faux leather platform ankle boots, which she wore almost throughout the entire show.

We have officially landed on planet Chromatica.

Gaga looked absolutely stunning when taking the award for “Best Collaboration” in this stunning ombré technicolor fringed body sculpture, custom-made for her by the incomparable Iris van Herpen who collaborated with artist Davy Evans.

She matched it with her Pleaser boots and a custom Cecilio Castrillo pink leather muzzle mask.

My absolute favorite look of the night is this Christoper John Rogers Fall/Winter 2020 Baja Blast emerald-green silk taffeta pannier ball skirt and cropped blouse which I’ve been eyeing ever since seeing it at New York Fashion Week!

A new designer on the map is San Francisco-based Lance Victor Moore, who specializes in all kinds of Steampunk-inspired accessories. He was responsible for this insane crimson leather harness mask with dramatic studded horns.

Gaga also wore some Dena Kemp earrings and House of Emmanuele’s Tribalism crystal and venus pearl statement necklace.

Gaga’s Sirenia bangle was signed by jeweler German Kabirski.

A naturally shaped and impactful bangle is crowned with a pale green amethyst. Black rhodium has been shaped to create an organic circle. Delicate gold details join them together in their raw beauty for the wearer to share.

The Italian-American songstress also rocked a bunch of gold rings by Lillian Shalom!

She went for the Da Vinci armor ring, Galileo armor ring, Dalí midi finger tip ring and Alta ring.

Next, Gaga came to collect her award for “Artist of the Year”, looking like a vision in silver and white in a full look from Valentino’s “Of Grace and Light” Fall/Winter 2020 Haute Couture collection, a show like no other: intensely beautiful white dresses blown into full or intensely elongated shapes by Creative Director Pierpaolo Piccioli, then wildly colored with projections of digital patterns by SHOWStudio photographer and film-maker, Nick Knight.

Her ensemble included a yaaards long white tulle and organdy coat, and a silver sequin-embroidered second-skin catsuit.

The silver metal mesh mask, she wore gracefully, is a bespoke creation by Prêt-à-Couture label Maison Met! Her jewelry is by Dena Kemp.

Our girl completed the look with a custom white faux leather version of these Pleaser Xtreme-1020 platform booties.

As the first winner of the “Tricon” award, Gaga took the stage in a custom Candice Cuoco metallic liquid chrome ruffled winged train coat, which she paired with her Valentino catsuit, Maison Met mask and incredible Manuel Albarran silver metal choker and bra.

Her avant-garde Jellyfish sculpted chrome steel mask, she styled as a crown, is another custom creation by Lance Victor Moore.

Gaga was dripping in Lillian Shalom jewelry! She wore her Da Vinci armor ring, Voltaire pearl armor ring, Galileo armor ring, Lux and Saturnus orbital rings, Khepri ring and Vita ring.

Click here to read the second part!

[windup-dragoon]

【Ｗａｔｅｒｌｉｌｉｅｓ】

Hien x Kiri

Goddess of the Sea AU 

Word Count: 2868

Brief mentioning of @windupzenos​‘ Octavia. 

“You swore an oath to me, Goddess!”

“Not this drivel again.” 

“From your very lips you gave me your word! Now release me!” 

“And ya’ thought you’d control the sea? Everyone knows the sea is fickle, my dear prince. Now shut yer damn trap!” 

Anger boiled his blood, his heart drumming harder in his ears than the pounding of his fist against the wooden door to the captain’s quarters. He could hear the hinges creak and groan beneath the strain, even rattling when he threw his shoulder into it. Yet it remained sealed despite his desperate attempt at escape. 

“Kirishimi!” His voice was hoarse from shouting her name. This time he would go unanswered, the sound swallowed by an abrupt roaring all around him. The ship rocked violently, slamming him against the door. He could hear the maelstrom worsen just beyond the wooden planks that barred him from the goddess out on the decks. Wood snapped like thunder claps that sent quakes throughout the hull of the ship; the sails hissed as their fabric was torn in the blistering gales; and if he listened, hard and close, between the chaos ensuing beyond his prison, the faint ring of metal sparking against metal. 

This was his fault. 

Hien felt as if he may begin sinking. The din outside faded beneath the weight of his thoughts and thundering heartbeat. He slipped to his knees, forehead to the splintered door and eyes loosing focus on the intricate knots of the floorboards beneath him. With each tug and pull experienced by the ship, the sway and lull as it crested tide after raging tide, he felt neither here nor there. 

All of this would be on his hands. 

While his search for the goddess had yielded grand results, his people restored and brought home to live in peace once more, he had doomed the goddess herself. A viper in his company had used him. A mere plaything to be discarded once he had fulfilled his role. How had he been so blind to it before? 

Of everyone in his crew, all but two had been his own kinsmen. While his own men were ready to cast aside their lives in search of a fantasy woman, she who spoke with the churning tides and sang with the gulls, these two hired hands had business of their own to tend to. And all the while he busied himself with the goddess, telling her stories of his country and admiring the way her eyes lit up with every shared laughter, he was dooming her to certain death. 

His heart ached at the wretched thought. Those nights spent on an eerily calm sea, watching stars mirror themselves on the oceans glassy surface as if a blanket of jewels while in her company... And she would die for his blunders. 

“They’ll tell stories of you,” The woman had snarled at him before drawing her weapon against the goddess. A monstrosity of an axe against a trident. “A sappy love story, to be assured. Poetic, as the bards have habit of making everything out of tragedy. ‘Land and sea dying together.’” Octavia gave a helpless shrug, as if to apologize for poetry not being her forte. 

Meanwhile, trashing in the maelstrom, Leviathan snapped his ship swallowing jaws at her companion, the crowned prince of metal and steel. In large arches blood dotted the stormy skies, a shower of scales and thick ichor. The prince seemed to have little trouble dealing blow after blow to the creature. Hien could do naught but feel his stomach twist with guilt with every pained cry from Leviathan. 

Words could not convey his regret for having ever brought this upon the goddess. 

Before tears could well in his eyes and blur his vision all together, the erratic movements of the ship had ceased. The brewing storm and angry lashings of waves to the ships hull began to fade. A glimmer of light briefly shimmered through the windows around him giving the prince reason to once again rouse from the floor. 

“Kiri-” His hands, scrambling for purchase at the door, were met with no resistance now and the door swung wide. The prince stumbled and spilled onto the deck. 

Sunlight showered the ship, setting pools of gathered sea water sparkling and glittering. It was near blinding. With raised hands to shield his eyes he surveyed the damage wrought upon the ship, jaw slack with dread. 

The masts were all shattered at their base, their tree like limbs completely gone without a trace; railing that he once noted to be intricate and heavy with artistic design were little more than bursts of splinters and broken lumber. The only thing he could visibly see that survived had been the captains quarter. Not a single glass pane had shattered while he occupied the room, nor had a lantern fallen amid the chaos. Surely this was intentional. 

“Good. Yer alive.” The voice of the goddess grabbed his attention, reeling him back from his dumbstruck awe over the unreal serenity of the moment. The oceans rage had been quelled at the cost of her ship. And no Octavia or her prince in sight. 

Hien followed the sound of her weakened voice finding her just behind the thrown open door he had lurched through moments ago. Her jacket, of such deep ocean blue and decorated in the finest pearls and lost jewels, little more than shreds at her arms. White hair a frazzled mess from the howling winds of hurricane gales. Her lips, bruised and bloody, curved ever so slightly before the woman sank against the wooden wall at her back. 

The prince threw himself at her, one arm around her shoulder while the other tenderly touched at the various cuts along her cheek. 

“What? Catfish got yer tongue?” She gave an echo of a laugh. 

“Shocked.” Hien brushed his thumb over a gathering bead of blood at her jaw and arched a brow. “I thought a goddess would not bleed red like the rest of us.” If this was the worse of her injuries, perhaps he could at last fill his lungs with a breath of air. 

“Heh, only when we’re close ta’ dyin’... does it turn to gold.” Despite the splits in her lips, Kirishimi smiled at the prince and drew her hand along her side. When she pulled it away Hien choked on a gasp. Her fingertips glittered beneath the afternoon sun now that the storm clouds had vacated. The ichor that set rivulets down each length of her fingers and pooled in her palm was ethereal to say the least. Never had the prince seen such color. Gold melted down, touched with the rainbow shimmer of pearls and glittered like stardust. 

His mind went blank at the realization. All at once it felt as though the world had stopped moving, his blood ran as if ice filled his veins, the darkest waters of the abyss drowning his lungs and smothering his heart. His hands felt numb as urgency filled his muscles, tearing away at the remains of her waterlogged jacket. He raised her arm, distantly hearing her muffled groan in retaliation to the pain. 

Along the curve of her side and splattering the deck spilled more of this unusual blood. A long gash had been torn into her from the cage of her ribs down across her abdomen. Hien’s throat tightened and vision blurred. 

“Don’t’cha look at me like that, mate.” She urged, an unusual softness to her tone. “I held my part o’ the bargain, didn’t I? Yer folk are home safe and yer still kickin’.” 

Hien shook his head. It was suddenly impossible to look her in the eyes. Those beautiful sapphire and crimson eyes. “At what cost? I’ve murdered a goddess.” 

“Oh? And which one o’ these injuries of mine belong to you? Don’t see yer sword in my gut or a knife in my back.” 

“Octavia and Zenos were apart of my crew. I had damned you from the start.” 

“Speakin’ of which. They should be crashin’ against the cliffs soon. Levi gave ‘em a tsunami bath. Teach them for steppin’ foot on my boat.” Kiri attempted more laughter, tried with all her strength to stay smiling for the prince at her side, but choked on a welling of blood in her mouth. 

She coughed and he leaned closer. “Kirishimi-...” 

As he moved closer, the goddess took his hand and pressed an object into the heel of his palm. It was sticky with blood, ichor that made his mortal skin feel alight with a warm flame of a candle. Miscolored eyes looked up to his, searching his pained expression. “Call Levi for me? I want to go home...” 

The item in question was an ocarina, he had seen her use it late at night, playing haunting melodies to the stars and the moon. But it’s make was hardly alike any  he had seen before; it was carved into the shape of a fiddler crab and painted with scarlet red for its body with claws of ocean blue. 

“This summons Leviathan?” He questioned, already knowing the answer. “W-Wait, what do you mean by ‘home’? If Leviathan can take us to land, surely a doctor or a healer could see you!” 

“Just play a tune for Levi, will ya’?” Mismatched eyes began to flutter against the sunlight. 

“Kiri, wait!” 

- - - 

The young prince had seen many things in life. He had seen war destroy homes and villages over night, witnessed life at birth and at death, even met the goddess of the sea. But this? This was a marvel in of itself. 

An entire city deep beneath the waves. Not a thriving metropolis like he would have suspected if one had made mention of a lost city; but one of ruin. Statues depicting once living people had begun to crumble from the oceans currents; limbs missing here and there or faces having fallen away to sink to the sea bed below. Every so often he would catch the glimmer of light sparkling off what was once beautiful stained glass, only to be swallowed by the darkness of the ocean as they slipped by. 

What stunned him beyond belief however was the place the goddess called home. Not a castle or throne room decorated in lavish pearls and sunken jewels. But rather a library. Fully intact at that. 

The building itself was nestled into a slope of earth beneath the tides, an air pocket preserving the library as if it were an underwater cavern. Parts of walkways had long since been submerged by rising waters, but the library itself towered high; lined every which way with tomes and books galore. 

The architecture resembled that of the sunken city; built in stone with towering columns and crumbling railings. Along several walls he could see motifs etched into the stonework. Beautiful depictions of a serpentine creature, each scale embedded with sapphire or cerulean blue tiles. Everywhere he looked he saw similar artwork. Leviathan. All of it was a dedication to Leviathan himself. And at the very center of the library, just feet above the ocean water that claimed the walkways, stood a fountain lined in the same tiles and jewels as the creature had been. The statue that still functioned, pouring water from a vase dusted in gold, was the goddess herself. Or at least the prince could only surmise. 

Her face had spiderweb fractures, pieces of her cheek having fallen into the pool at her feet centuries ago. And where the goddess, currently cradled in his arms unconscious, had short hair, the statue was given hair that fell to her pedestal and into the fountain itself. 

“A mortal?” Echoed a voice from one of the many tiers of flooring that made up the library. 

Hien had to squint against the faint light that weaved throughout the railing, it looked as if fireflies were encased in the stonework itself to provide soft light. “A-Aye! The goddess is injured! Leviathan has brought her and myself here! Please, if you could offer us succor, her life could yet be saved!” 

Somewhere behind the prince, lounging in the caverns opening, Leviathan let out a gurgled hiss before resting its beaked nose against the half submerged staircase that made the libraries entrance. Hien had felt pity for the creature, only it’s head could fit. Leviathan, despite the injuries sustained, had bore them both to the bottom of the sea without qualm. Another miracle, Hien thought now, that the creature could conjure an air pocket for his riders while they descended to the depths. 

The voice overhead squeaked, a sound of books clattering to the floor soon followed. “Oh my! Quickly now! Place her in the fountain! Go!” A shuffling told Hien that the voice had departed, perhaps to reach them. 

Hien held the goddess closer, her head lulled against the crook of his neck. When she wasn’t barking orders or giving attitude, she almost seemed at peace. Though the prince knew not to be swayed by her looks alone; this was hardly sleep but death approaching. He could see it in the way her cheeks twitched as she grimaced, or the flutter of her closed eyes. 

With gathered strength he trudged forward, descending a small set of stairs where water soon swelled up to his knees. The stonework had begun to crumble here and there beneath him, he could scarcely make out the dark blotches just beneath the murky water. He picked his way through carefully, first feeling with the tip of his foot for purchase before moving forward. The water still rose, up to his waist before another small set of stairs appeared, leading up to the fountain. 

The fountain was larger than he would have guessed from his earlier position. Several goddess’ could have been laid beneath the glittering water with ease. Even the statue loomed over him, taller and far more detailed than he had given credit for. Each fold in her dress was clear as day, he swore he could even see the stitching in the stone. 

But the time to admire such craftsmen ship was gone. Hien shook his head, sitting himself down on the lip of the fountain. His eyes trailed to the goddess in his arms, absently sparring a moment to brush aside misty white hair from her cheek. Carefully he leaned over and lowered her into the water. 

Golden ichor spread throughout the fountains pooled water, shimmering and swirling like galaxies beneath the ripples. Her form sunk against the tiles, the pool swallowing her entirely. 

Hien watched impatiently as her blood bled into the fountains water. Had he been expecting a miracle? Magic to suddenly encase her and instantly heal her? 

“It’ll take some time, lad.” A voice once more called to him. Wadding in knee deep water, along one of the other pathways that lead further into the library, stood what Hien could only comprehend as a standing tortoise. A creature that looked human in the way he stood, two legs and two arms, but had a shell adorning his back encrusted in gold and jewels. Even his head seemed more turtle aspect than man. The creature ran a hand through a length of beard at his chin before chuckling. “Never seen a Kojin before? C’mon, let’s leave her alone to recover. You can regale me with how this all happened, eh?” 

Hien found himself shaking his head, too dumbstruck to register what the man had said at all. Was this tortoise truly speaking to him? Had he gone mad while traveling the ocean? The more he considered the thought, the more it made sense. Libraries do not just sink to the ocean floor. They do not make homes for a goddess. And what, he is supposed to believe she enjoys reading? Or Leviathan for that matter, who had snarled and hissed at him upon their first meeting, now a snoozing kitten at the entrance of this grand forgotten place. 

“I’ve lost my mind.” Hien wheezed, holding his head in his hands. “Ocean madness truly exists.” 

“You’re only mad if you insist on staying in wet garb all day, lad. You’ll catch a cold.” Snorted the Kojin as he began his retreat, climbing a staircase out of the water. “I’ll put on tea if you change your mind.” 

Loathe as he was to admit, this cavernous library was hardly warm. He had felt himself shaking with chill as they arrived, though in part it was worry that shook him. Fear that the goddess would die cradled in his arms. If she had passed, who then would he tell stories to late into the night? Of fabled cities that dotted the landscape just out of her reach? She seemed to love his storytelling... Maybe she did invest time into reading? 

Hien rose suddenly, curiosity filling his chest. This was home to the goddess herself. What other strange and interesting things did she keep secreted away down here? The prince, with new urgency, stood up to follow after the kojin. He spared only one glance back at the sleeping goddess and gasped. 

The fountain had filled itself with a rainbow of waterlilies. 

[funkymeihem-fiction]

King Jamison

A 3k commission fic for https://pandaioh.tumblr.com/

Thanks for your support!

***

Beyond the thick metal doors that had once protected the heart of the ruined omnium, Mei could hear the din of the crowd. Junkers, many many junkers, had all crowded into what had once been the arena, chanting and shouting as they waited for the spectacle to come. Ordinarily, it would have been gladiator matches, mecha-battles, or the gruesome spectacles of omnic executions. The arena was where they always gathered, to bay for blood and oil and death— violent celebrations in a violent land.

Not today. Today was the day they crowned their new King. And that King was already late to his own coronation.

Hurrying down a nearby hallway, she lifted a fist to bang on another door. “Jamison! Jamie, you were supposed to be ready ten minutes ago! I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep them waiting!”

His reply was muffled within. “Ah, yeah! Just getting this…thing! On! Ow!” There was a faint crash and rattle. “Okay, almost ready!”

She pressed one ear to the door, squinting suspiciously. “What was that? What are you putting on in there? We already got you that suit to wear to your—”

“Heh! Did you actually thing I was gonna wear that thing? No proper junker wears suits, much less their King! I’d be pelted with shit before I got a word out. No, these are special occasions. And that calls for…special accoutrements! Voila!” 

The door abruptly hissed open while she was still leaning on it, and Mei stumbled and nearly crashed face-first into him. One long arm reflexively launched out and caught her, yanking her upright and putting her back on her feet. She only stood there, eyes wide and not even seeming to notice her near-accident. She stared for a long while, before sputtering and gesturing up and down him with both hands in clear disbelief, starting to laugh.

“Jamie! What on earth are you wearing?”

Junkrat was clad in a very gaudy array of stolen relics, gold, jewelry, pearls, and all manner of riches, strung out over an outfit that was literally printed with gold-threaded dollar signs. His peg leg had been replaced with a royal scepter, and an extremely enormous and extremely silly crown was set at a jaunty angle atop his head.

“It’s called royal attire, Mei,” he said proudly, opening both arms wide. “Look at this, I’m practically jingling with bling. Blingling! Feast your eyes!”

“I can’t feast my eyes. I can’t even look directly at you, I’d go blind.” She pushed her glasses up and covered her eyes with both hands, clamping them over her face as he grabbed onto her and started trying to pry them off. “Nooooo!”

“Yeah!” He continued pulling at her fingers, snickering wildly. “Mei! Lookit me! C’mon, you love it! You’re gonna—”

A harsh static noise emanated from Rat’s belt. His communicator crackled to life, and Roadhog’s thrumming baritone offered them a warning. “You’re late. We’re breaking up fights already out here.”

Junkrat cursed and fumbled, snatching it up to his mouth. “Got it! Tell ‘em the King is about to make his grand appearance! Mei, help me tie the thingy!” He swept a ridiculous fur-lined red velvet cape around his narrow shoulders, leaning down so she could tie it for him, slicking down what remained of his hair and adjusting his oversized crown. “Ready! Roadie, we’re on our way!”

Mei leaned up to place a very quick kiss to the tip of his nose before ushering him forward, headed down the hallway towards the arena. “Are you sure we’re ready for all this? I still don’t really know all that much about junker culture but… I’ve got some plans I’ve been working on. We could introduce specialized agriculture, repair the environment, get better medical supply lines… With that mean Queen gone, do you really think we can help Junkertown?”

“Well she’s gone for good. And since I’m the one what took her down, that means I’m in charge! King Jamison Fawkes, his true and royal highness of Junkertown! All will finally bow down! And ya know what, anyone who ever made fun of me in this town? Executions! Executions left and right!”

“Okay, Mr. Maniacal Dictator, that is not at all what I had in mind. We only stepped in so we could help the junkers. Until Junkertown’s government is figured out and the Queen’s underlings are dealt with and things get more organized… that does make you the active representative. I’m not sure if it’s really classified as proper ‘royalty’ but—”

“Ugh, you’re making it sound all suit-like. You gotta remember who you’re talking about here. I’m the one who got rid of the Queen, so I’m in charge. That’s junker law, so just say it with me. King! King Jamison Fawkes, don’t it sound lovely? And since I’m the King…I’ve already got a few decrees in mind.” He stopped short before the door, listening to the chanting on the other side. His face split into a grin, teeth glinting with gold veneers, eyes gleaming with that wild look that always made Mei nervous. “Yeah. Got a few idears already.”

“Jamie—” she began, but it was too late.

The doors rushed open, and he lifted both arms and swept forward, cape fluttering behind him. The crowd roared at his appearance, an echoing din of howling bloodthirst from the desert’s most dangerous people. Some chanted his name and welcomed him, others screamed in sheer enthusiasm for whatever the hell was going on, and still others booed and sneered while under the watchful eye of Junkertown’s enforcers…which included the massive pig-masked man who loomed menacingly near the throne as Junkrat took up his place in front of it.

Mei remained hidden within the little hallway, only occasionally peeking out as she listened. His screeching tone wailed over the tinny microphone, his speech broadcast throughout the arena and throughout all the rest of town where they had crowded to listen. And Mei didn’t…really understand all of it? It was extremely fast-paced and littered with Australian slang and junker vernacular, with no small amount of curse words and not-so-subtle threats about his new rule, all screamed into the mic as he paced back and forth with his cape trailing behind him.

The Queen was gone, overthrown and removed from power. A new power had taken over, and his strength had outdone hers. And it would outdo theirs if they tried anything. This desert was theirs by rights, and he’d be acting Overseer for the entirety of inland Australia. Junkrat was calling the shots now and— That guy! That one with the suspicious look! Seize him! — No bones about it, Junkrat was the new power in Junkertown and he wasn’t to be tested.

To anyone else it would have sounded demented, positively tyrannical… but Mei only listened as the junkers’ cheers grew louder than ever. She knew that they respected strength and strength alone, but she had hadn’t really known how they might react to their former leader being deposed. They seemed to take to this new line of royalty with few questions asked. So far Junkrat was openly confident about being in charge…and to them, that simply meant he must have been in charge? What a strange—

“And as your new King…” he was saying into the mic, suddenly turning back to face her hallway with that too-wide grin. “Well, a King’s gotta have a Queen.”

Mei’s expression went slack, staring back at him. Oh no.

He outstretched his metal hand towards her, the spotlight shining down upon him. “Sorry to break your hearts out there, ladies, but I have just the right Queen in mind already. A proper Queen! C’mere, show ‘em your beautiful face, darl!”

Oh no.

Roadhog was suddenly at her side, motioning her towards the spotlight. Shooting him an absolutely terrified look, Mei took his arm and crept very cautiously forward, until they had joined Junkrat out on the floor. Her hand was shaking as she lifted it upward, but Rat seized upon her fingers and lifted it with his, urging her up against his side and almost enveloping her entire body in that stupid King cape of his. Grinning violently at his onlookers, Junkrat squeezed her covetously and planted a kiss on her hair, shrieking into the mic again.

“And you’re all gonna give her the respect she deserves, or else! So! I’m gonna just…crown her here…” He produced a crown, much smaller than his and far less gaudy, and gingerly went to place it atop the shellshocked girl’s head. “There we are! All hail, Queen Mei the Merciless! Give us a few words, Queen Mei!”

She had apparently just been literally crowned, reaching up dumbly and feeling the alien touch of cold jewel-studded metal under her fingertips. She found the microphone thrust up towards her face, the spotlight blinding her, surrounded by junkers on every side. She swallowed hard and leaned forward under his arm, clearing her throat.

“Um, hi?” She said, just as the ancient microphone screamed with feedback and the junkers in the audience began snickering. She winced, glancing up to Junkrat as he nudged her gently, nodding to the mic. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I-I’m really looking forward to um, working with everybody? I’ve got some plans that I think will set us all off on the right path, for a brighter future. I think with teamwork, we can do anything. And we can do this together. J-just remember, our world is worth fighting for!”

The junkers stared at her blankly. Out in the audience, somebody coughed loudly.

“Roight! Thank you, Mei the Merciless!” Junkrat snatched the mic away and squeezed her up against his side. “Didja hear that, you worthless bastards! She said Junkertown’s worth fighting for! So we’re gonna have a fight alright! We’re gonna roll in this reign with two brand-new contenders in the mech fighting arena, just after this! The blood’s gonna be flowing…and so are the drinks! Free beers all night, courtesy of your King and Queen! That’s all, mates!”

The world exploded around them, the cheering and stomping almost as loud as an omnium explosion echoing from decades ago. Several brawls immediately broke out and junker enforcers began wading through the chaos, ripping junkers off of one another. The beers hadn’t even been tapped yet, but the blood was already flowing. The newly proclaimed royal couple turned about and headed back towards the relative safety of the fortress, trailed by their pig-masked standover man who took up his position to cover the door.

A broken bottle crashed somewhere overhead and Junkrat didn’t even flinch, as Mei broke away and fled towards the safety of the guarded hallway, practically scampering inside. The heavy barricaded doors soon fell shut behind them, and the chaos outside went muffled as Junkrat’s grin eased and he limped towards her, cape dragging along the floor.

“Well! I think that went pretty well, don’t you?” he said cheerily.

“Tiān a! Zhēn de ma?!” She grasped onto her chest, leaning up against the wall with her crown starting to fall to one side of her head. “You could have warned me!”

He held up both hands in a placating manner, pearls and bracelets rattling. “Wanted it to be a surprise, lovey! Surprise! You’re my Queen!”

Her cheeks puffed, breathing in deeply before exhaling long and low. Wiping a hand uneasily at her face, she leaned back against the wall and resisted his attempts to peel her up away from it. “That was…really one of those things I wish you’d let me know ahead of time. I could have prepared more.”

“Yeah, nah. It’s really not one of those speech-makin’ occasions. I just needed to get ‘em all wound up before the big show is all. Probably the only thing they’re gonna remember from today is the booze and the mech fights anyhow, gotta get on their good sides first thing. But now you’re officially my Queen, and everyone knows to step off from you, because you’re mine!” He tugged at her waist, still trying to pull her up off the wall as his voice went low and cajoling. “C’meeeeere. My first kingly decree is that you gotta come with me. For our own little coronation of sorts…Heh-hehehe.”

“This had better not involve you thrusting me in the spotlight again.”

“Well, no,” he said, voice suddenly going guttural as he wedged a hand under the small of her back and finally managed to pry her up off the wall and into his grasp. “I mean, there is a bit of thrusting you involved but— Agh!” He petered off into another fit of reedy giggles as she went pink and whapped at his chest, squirming to push him away only for him to start pulling her along once more. “Asides, I’ve been waiting for this for years, to take over the old Queen’s digs for meself. Let’s go!”

Mei grabbed onto her crown, holding it steady as she was dragged over-enthusiastically through the maze of omnium halls. Behind yet another series of blast doors was the former Queen’s personal holdings, opening onto a ballroom-sized area that was crowded with more gold, more cash, more treasures, and more riches— enough that it made even Junkrat’s gaudy outfit pale in comparison. The furniture was so lavishly appointed as to be ridiculous, including a bed that was so huge and overstuffed that it looked like four mattresses had been sewn into one, covered in piles of blankets and cushions and a pachimari collection that could rival Roadhog’s own.

Junkrat struck a jaunty pose, gesturing around his new den. “Whaddaya think! Suits me much better than her, don’t you think?”

“Well she certainly liked her displays of wealth. Though I guess you do too,” Mei mused, eyes roaming to the far wall. “What on earth? Is that a giant velvet painting of Wrecking Ball? Who would even commission such a—”

“No time to explain! Get your dacks off!”

Junkrat interrupted her with one brisk motion, spinning her in a circle before bodily tossing her onto the enormous bed. She landed with a bounce and a roll amongst all the finery, and was helpfully starting to undress herself already…Which was fine with him, since it was taking him longer than he thought to remove all his King gear. All the jewelry needed to be unclasped and untied, the gold bars strung around his neck weighing him down before he managed to squirm out from under them, clunking onto the floor. The heavy crown was tossed across the room, and beads and jewels flew every which way as he began shucking off all the things that had taken him nearly an hour to put on in the first place.

Mei turned onto her back on the bed, propped up on her elbows and waiting. “Um, do you need help?”

“No! ‘Cause I’m the King! Hold on, it’s stuck on the—Wait, I got it!” He flung his peg leg back and forth, the joint squeaking as his entangled pants were finally wrested free and slung onto the pile on the floor. He struck the same jaunty pose from before, naked except for the fur-lined cloak that billowed around his skinny body, unfurled dramatically. “And the cape stays on!”

“That sounds like a very official decree.”

“Yeah! Hehehehe, hey Mei. You wanna be christened with my royal sword?” He stuck his tongue out and grabbed lewdly between his legs, waggling his member at her. “Tap it on both your shoulders, make you a Knight Queen. Or I could uh, seize those bountiful tracts of land you got there?” His eyes roved to her chest, then further down. “Or maybe I’m gonna… I dunno, pillage your village? Real King sorta stuff.”

She half-lidded her eyes at him in that amused-but-not-going-to-admit-it sort of way that he loved, snorting aloud. “Ugh, is this how you’re going to be?”

He laughed a shrill laugh and then fell upon her, his long cloak falling over them and trapping them in a soft red curtain full of grasping hands and plush flesh. 

“Can give you the world now, if ya want it—” he mumbled, tongue lapping and teeth biting to leave little half-moon marks in her skin, his hips reflexively moving against her thighs. “Whatever you want, darl, I can get it for you now. Anything. Just gotta say. I’m the King now, just like you deserve.”

“Jamie…” Her gaze softened, and pulled him up out of her bosom to kiss him. “I never needed you to be a King. Just be…you?”

He could do that. He sunk his hips into hers and started to move, until the two of them were panting and sweating inside the sweltering confines of his royal cloak. She called his name and it sounded so much sweeter than how the crowds outside had chanted for him. This new bed was soft, unlike his couch back in his old home, and so were the overstuffed pillows with real goose down, and the satin cushions, and stuffie toys, everything was soft and expensive just like he’d always dreamed of. But she was still softer and better than anything all that money could buy, his hands finding her breasts and burying his face in them just as deeply as the rest of him was buried in her too.

When he came, he gave her everything he had, just like he had always done. And she took it all and seemed to be content, just like she’d said, just like how she’d always loved him. Her breath was sweet against his chest, cooling the perspiration beaded on his skin. Was this what it felt like, to be content? He had everything he'd ever wanted, everything he'd wanted in his entire life, and most of all he had her. For at least a few moments, everything was perfect and quiet…

And then he started talking again.

“Ha! Hahaha! Conquered! I conquered you! See, was all part of my cunning plan. You got conquered!”

Her eyes opened and her expression turned exasperated. “Really?”

He lifted both fists into the air in triumph. “You never suspected a thing! That’s called strategy, right there. Conquest. First act as the ruler of Junkertown, is making sure everyone knows who’s really Boss. That’s me, by the way, I’m the boss. I’m the King. Hooly dooly, though, can I conquer you again? Like…just another minute, and I’ll be ready to conquer? Please?”

His lovely new Queen rolled atop of him, her knees slung on either side of his waist as she straddled his lanky form, both of them awash in red velvet and fur. She leaned down and kissed him again, slender fingers on the side of his stubbled jaw, and tilted his chin up to trail more kisses against his throat. When she closed her lips and sucked a bruise there, he couldn’t help but moan.

“Or maybe…” Teeth closed on the side of his neck before lifting upright, small hands pressing him down into the mattress. Her lips twisted in a cruel little smile down at him. “What if you were overpowered? If I staged a coup right here? Maybe you’ll be overthrown by your own Queen?”

His grin widened, ears and cheeks splotching as they flushed almost as red as his cape, eyes alight as they watched her slide down his long body. He grasped onto her hips, urging her down, eager to take part in being overthrown just a few hours into his reign. If those bedroom eyes of hers were any indication, he was going to enjoy this new Queen’s revolution much, much more than the last one. So he lay back and let her do exactly as she pleased.

“Oh yeah. It’s good to be the King!”

[rebelbyrdie]

SwanQueen Ficlet:  Black and White Pt 2

More reasons for Emma to drool over Regina. Also Regina shows a different side to herself.  It isn’t really edited because I typed it out at work.  It’s just sort of an idea.

Snow was going to pout forever.  Thank God Emma didn’t live with her anymore.  She could not imagine putting up with her full time right now.  She had said words that Emma had never imagined coming out of sweet Mary Margaret’s mouth.  She had covered the kidlet’s ears.  The White Court had lost the big tournament.

It had been close.  Mulan had trashed everyone in the sword fighting event.  She’d won easily.  The archery stuff had gone differently, though.  Merida Hill, the fire department’s chief, had easily beaten Snow and everyone else.  So it had gone, neck and neck all day so jousting had become the big tie breaker.  David and some other the other White Court men were all excited to compete.  Even Henry had scampered off remarking that his Mom had promised to let him play at being a squire.

Emma had never seen jousting, except for watching A Knights Tale on cable.  It looked painful.  Snow had excitedly explained the whole thing to her.  Leather and cushioned armor, padded lances, horses going slower than usual.  It still looked hella dangerous.  Emma was never going to let Henry do it.  Even full-contact football was safer then this knight shit.

They had watched, Emma wincing, and Snow politely clapping, every time two knights crashed into each other.

David was doing good.  He was knocking everyone down.  Which, Emma had gathered, was winning.

Of course the other side was doing just as well.  There was a rider in all black that was knocking just as many people over.

“I can’t believe Regina would let a teenager do that.”  Ashley remarked.  “I mean look how small they are.  No way they’re a full knight.”

“Could be a woman.  Regina had several female soldiers.  Jill maybe.”  Sean, who had been knocked out of the jousting tournament earlier, replied.”

The final match was between David and the small dark rider.  When David hit the dirt, Snow had let out a shout so loud it hurt Emma’s ears.  She hadn’t stopped bitching and whining to make sure David was okay.

They had all lined up down on the field for the “closing” ceremony.  Archie was waiting with a big trophy.

The announcers, two of the supervisors from the cannery, came over the loud speaker.

“And here to accept the victory for the Black Court is His Royal Highness, Prince Henry.”

Henry, escorted by Zelena and Maleficent, came out to the middle of the field.  He had changed clothes  Well he had changed his whole image to match the Black Court’s over-the-top gothic image.  He was wearing a black suit was a fur-lined black cape and a gold mini-crown (circlet?  man-tiara?) with black gems in it. He looked older than his years and handsome,  Like a real prince.  

“Sorry Grandma, Grandpa.  I sort of had double-duty today.”

“Wait.”  Snow all but stamped her foot on the muddy grass.  “Where’s Regina?”  

Henry blinked, confused.  “Right here, duh.”

The black knight, complete with a green and gold cloak thrown over their armor, stepped forward and took off their metal helmet and mask.

Emma almost had a heart attack.

Regina stood there, in armor.  Her hair was sweat-soaked and plastered to her head. There was a scrape on her cheek and the vein on her forehead was prominant which told Emma that she had a headache.  Despite, or maybe because, all of that Regina was beautiful.  Like an Amazon Queen who had lead her people to victory and was about to take her spoils.

 “I thought it would be more appropriate to let Henry accept the award.” Regina cocked a brow.  “I am not photo or speech ready.”

Emma just stared, open mouthed.  Regina.  Regina who wore dresses and always had a perfect manicure.  Regina who was the feme-est of femes.  Regina, who snarled her nose up at everything not-fancy.  She had just whipped countless dude’s asses with a pony and a big stick?  Emma couldn’t comprehend it.

“You-”  David cocked his head to the side.  “You didn’t compete under your coat of arms though?”  He sounded a little confused and a lot embarrassed. “Its not green.”

Regina shrugged a leather clad shoulder.  “My father’s coat of arms.”

Archie held up a microphone.  “I am pleased to announce the First Annual Black and White Tournament has been won by the Black Court.”

He handed the microphone to Henry.  Henry grinned.  

“Thank You.  I want to give a round of applause to all of the competitors today.  Black and White, we all represent Storybrooke.”  He paused for a thunderous roar of applause.

“The proceeds from today and a matching donation will be given to the Black Court’s chosen project, the Storybrooke Youth Center.  Thank you everybody for coming out and we hope to see you tonight at the ball.”

So here they were, at a way-over decorated ball room in City Hall.  Emma had no idea what kind of magic Zelena, Maleficent and Regina had used but it had  worked.  She felt like she had walked into a scene from a movie.  

THe whole town was going to ring in the new year with style. Not Emma’s style, though.  She was way not her style.  She was in a long white pageant gown with ruffles and tulle and more fluff then a dress should legally be able to have.  She felt awkward and out of place.  

Hook, dressed all in white (which she was sure Snow paid for) sidled up to her about nine o’clock.  He already smelled like rum.  

“You look beautiful, Luv.”

She wanted to puke.  She should have scooped up Henry to be her escort before Regina had lured him to the dark side.

Speaking of Henry, her Kid was surrounded by teenage girls.  His Price act and new edgy Black Court look was a hit.  

She kind of wanted to ground him for treason or something.

“Care for a dance, Luv?”

He had his one hand in his pocket, like he was holding on to something.

Emma definitely did not want to dance, or anything else, with him.

“I’m sorry, Captain.  As the victor, Emma is obligated to give the first dance to me.”

Emma turned around and felt her heart stutter and her brain flat-lined. Regina stood behind them.  Gone was the sweaty knight of earlier.  She was dressed to kill in an outfit that had to be from her Evil Queen days.  She had a black corset top and leather pants that was covered, barely, by a long black jacket that was cropped in the front and flowed to the ground in the back.  Her cleavage was partially covered (more like accentuated) by a big and fancy necklace that matched the crown on her head.  The gold made her skin glow and the rubies were the same color as her lips.Her hair was long and curled into a complicated up do with even more jewels in it. She had to be wearing boots with a killer heel because she was almost the same height as Hook.

When Emma finally regained her senses, she let out a hoarse.  “Yeah.”  She pulled in a deep breath and hoped the oxygen helped her brain reboot.  “Can’t say no to My Queen.”

Regina lead her to the dance floor with a chuckle.  

Hook stood in place, eyes wide and furious.  He knew better to fight Regina, though  Not only did she have magic, half of her posse did too and exactly none of them liked Hook.  Basically, Emma had thrown her lot in with the wrong team.  

“Thanks.”  She mumbled to Regina when they were far enough away.  “It was either this or deck him.”

They started to twirl around in what Emma was almost sure was a waltz.  Regina lead her confidently along and she followed as best she could.

“You do realize he has a ring box in his pocket.  I believe the pirate was going to ask you to be his wedded wench.”

Emma bit back a groan.  She had been afraid of that.  “Frankly I’d rather go ten round against you with the ponies and the sticks.  No padding.”

Regina laughed.  A full on threw her head back laugh.  It was better than the music, the best sound Emma could remember hearing in a long time.  Regina so rarely laughed.  

“Speaking of.”  Emma continued as she fumbled through the dance.  “How did you learn to do that?  It doesn’t seem very queeny.”

Regina smiled.  “My father.  He went behind Mother’s back and taught me when I was a teenager. I had to do more than a few practice runs to re-teach myself a few things.  It was not at all like riding a bike”

Emma literally could not imagine.

“So-”  They turned and Emma could see Snow and Hook having a heated conversation on the other side of the room.  Neither of them looked happy.  She dropped her head to Regina’s shoulder for a moment.  

“I think I’m defecting to the Black Squad next year.  You and the Kid got cooler better clothes and nobody on your team is trying to set me up with an asshole.  Between Hook and my mother I am never going to make it to midnight.”

She was totally done and over this whole Black and White bullshit.

Regina was so close, the dancing had slowed down and they were basically just swaying together now. Emma soaked in the moment, the intimacy of it all. 

Regina’s skin was hot against her own.  She smelled like apples, rain and honey. Her touch was electric and sent delicious.   Regina was intoxicating.  Like lines of cocaine on black velvet, intoxicating, addictive, an incredible high that could so easily turn into decadent and delirious destruction. If Emma let herself slip, if she took even the tiniest taste, if she gave in to temptation, she would be lost.  She knew that she would never be able to stop.  Would never want to.

Regina’s hands crawled up her back.  Emma could feel her touch burning through the material of her dress.

“Em-ma.” Regina’s voice was like whiskey and starlight and it was whispered right into Emma’s ear.

She had seen so many sides and shades of Regina, so many moments had passed between them.  This moment, with Regina’s arms wrapped around her, was her favorite.

“I would be honored to have you on my Court.  Beside me, beside our son,  Where you belong.”

Belong.  Emma hadn’t felt like she belonged anywhere, ever.  The very idea was ridiculous.  Yet.  Yet, she craved it.  She never felt more like herself than she did when she was with Regina and Henry.  They felt like home, like the living embodiment of Tallahassee.

“I-”

Emma lifted her head.  She searched Regina’s eyes.  She looked for sarcasm or spite but only saw love.  Overwhelming amounts of love.  She got lost in Regina’s beautiful eyes and the endless capacity of her heart.

“Regina.”  Emma licked her suddenly dry lips.  She had so much to say.  To confess.  She had never been good with words.She wasn’t even sure there were words for the emotions swirling inside of her.  “My Queen.”

Regina’s eyes lit up at that.  Like it was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.  Based on Regina’s checkered past, it probably was.

Emma couldn’t wait anymore.  She didn’t care where they were or who saw.  She was tired of black and white, good and evil, fighting and drawing lines.  They were in a fairytale town, at a fairytale ball and they were fairytale royalty. It was time for their Happily Ever After.

Emma leaned in and did the one thing she had been dying to do since the first time she’d seen Regina.  She kissed her. 

The floor tilted under Emma’s feet.  Angels sang in her ears. Kissing Regina was better than drugs.  Emma ran her hands through Regina’s hair and let it curl around her fingers.  Regina held her close, her nails dug into Emma’s shoulder blades.  It was perfect.

Claps and gasps invaded their little bubble of bliss.

Emma opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and looked around.  The room was bathed in golden light.  THere were stars dancing across the ceiling and black and white pops of light, like fireworks.

There was no denying it now.  The entire town had witnessed them share their first and apparently true loves kiss.

Regina rested her forehead against hers.  

“You want to get out of here?”

As opposed to facing down the entire town and her crazy mother?  Absolutely.

“Your place or mine?”

Regina’s smirk was the only answer Emma got as they disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

[alistairspams]

Here’s a snippet of really quick ideas for a oneshot (not that y’all are gonna see it for a while SHDBDB) it’s just a solid rough draft.

Title: The King Who Takes Back Corona

I felt my back bones crack as I twisted my head towards them all. Their frightened faces only gave me more power to keep going.

My vision blurred once I took a step closer to them.

The distant clang of metallic bars held me back from moving my arms. I let out a scream; no words coming out of my mouth.

“Varian. Eat up. You got a princess to handle.” A voice boomed, before a set of footsteps walked to me. My head lifted up, only to see a tall, red-ish haired woman walking over to me. She held up a pair of keys, opening my eerily quiet jail cell.

I stepped back, unknowing who this person was when I saw their hair. And then it became clear.

It was my own mother.

“What? You aren’t gonna thank your mother for getting you out of this.. hellscape?!” She spat, my entire body flinching from her words. It reminded me of the way the guards used to tease or taunt me way back when I was 14.

“Oh look! I’m gonna poke ‘em with this little stick. I don’t wanna go in, who knows how dangerous this boy is.”

I reared my head around at them and my mouth took a hold of the stick; a protective scowl on my face. “I told you guys to not TOUCH ME.”

“Yeah...thanks mom.”

My hands got 20% lighter as I heard the metal clang to the floor.

“Let’s steal a crown... hm?”

I nodded my head, before her body walked towards me. The last thing I saw was her sadistic smirk and a bright light at the end of the room.

“Freedom. At LAST.”

—————-

I pushed the blond against the wall, hearing his shaky breath against mine.

“Look. We can do this the easy way... or the hard way.” I smirked, seeing him nod submissively to my voice.

“W-which is?”

I pressed harder on his shoulder blades, feeling them start to shake. His entire body weight started to crumble to the floor, yelling in agony, screaming the words “stop- stop!” Over and over.

I laughed, “I have a better idea for you and I.”

I walked over to the blond princess, taking the crown off her head. Her boyfriend yelled some words at me, as I rolled my eyes. I pressed my forehead onto the taller boy, feeling him start to shake. The grip on the crown got tighter.

“If you stop your forces, I’ll let your boyfriend AND your friends go.” I offered. His panting got louder, gasping loudly in between breaths.

“No- NO! I can’t let you take Corona! Vari- it’s me... remember? The man I fell in love with?! That Varian? The one who always knew how to make me smile or irritate me? I want him back.”

My scowl went back to Rapunzel as I squeezed the crown even tighter, the crystals starting to crack under the pressure. She was being pushed back behind the captain, who I assumed was her boyfriend.

“Let Varian go! He’s done nothing wrong. Sure he might’ve done some things, but yo-HE could never agree to someone like you.” He yelled at me. With a swift motion of my hands, I cracked the blond’s shoulder blades in a swift motion, hearing him start screaming in pain.

“Varian!” He screamed, holding his shoulder in agony, his body slumping forward to his knees while he let out a cry.

—————-

“ULLA! Let me go- please....” I pleaded, trying to scream as loud as I can. I could hear her laughs echoing in my ear.

“STOP HURTING THEM!”

—————-

I held the crown over my head, as I straddled the weeping blond between my ankles.

I saw the princess and a slightly smaller girl hold together in hands, hearing them do a battle cry. They both came towards me, as I held my hand out, shooting an energy beam towards them. They both flew backwards, the smaller girl hit the floor while the taller one hit the wall with full force.

I went back to Hugo, as I laughed again, kicking him on his side slightly.

“I want what I deserve. I want to rule the world. Don’t you, Hugo?” I asked him. He didn’t move his head, still hearing his pained labored breathing.

My body suddenly started to shake. Varian must’ve gotten back in control. I tried to fight him back, only for him to push me out of my body. My entire body flew out of him, crumbled on the floor.

———————

I blinked a couple times, before bending down to my boyfriend. “Baby- it’s okay. It’s okay.” I reassured, putting my hand on his arm. He slapped me away, giving me a sharp glare.

“Don’t... touch me.” He snapped, pressing his back into the wall in fear.

“Hugo.. that wasn’t me! It wasn’t. Please believe me- I-I know i totally fucked up-“ I tried to explain before shooting his body up at me.

“WHY didn’t you tell me you were locked up in jail?! For a fucking year?! And your damned MOTHER..? You keep pushing and pushing me away. I’m done.” He yelled, as I felt tears pricking my eyes, shaking my head.

“Hugo... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or anyone. I...I tried.”

“Didn’t try hard enough.” He scoffed, pushing me away with his arm.

“Lets go. I don’t wanna be with you. Not now.” He ordered the group, as I saw Nuru with tears going down her eyes, running after Hugo. Yong... the poor boy who looked up to me, looked scared of me.

“Yong-“ I tried to yell before he shook his head.

“You scared us. You almost killed your boyfriend, you hurt Nuru, you hurt the Queen... and I don’t feel safe being your mentee.” He mumbled quietly, before running after Hugo.

Once all of them left, I was only left with my mother and my own fucked emotions.

The broken crystals seethed into my hands, breaking the skin at some points. It didn’t even hurt, at that point. What hurt more is realizing that I fucked up majorly and badly injured my friends and let it happen.

And I don’t think I could forgive myself enough to apologize.

I crushed the remaining jewels in my hands as I sobbed on the floor, letting my head drop at last.

—————————-

Not perfect. Whoops.

————-

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Blessings

Little bonus chapter to The Dragon Kings Treasure just because I need little dragon babies in my life, don’t @ me. 

And yes the drawing has nothing to do with the story, but that’s okay. Cute babies is all I need. 

Ten years. That wasn’t a very long time in relation to the rest of Koge’s life, but it had definitely been the most memorable. She could remember every moment of the past decade like it had just happened, every touch, event and birth fresh in her mind. There wasn’t a second that she would trade, not for all the jewels and riches in the world. The most precious thing in the world to her was her family, and after all the hardships her life had brought her, they had finally brought her peace. 

Well, as much peace as she could gain. It was a crazy life, of raising her three children and helping to run her husband's expanding territory. Breeding and raising dragons wasn’t an easy task either, but it was worthwhile, especially when a species that was near extension successfully laid eggs or when they found freedom and a place to belong here. Hearing their cries of joy across the skies would bring a smile to her face when sitting out in the palace courtyard for a moment of temporary solitude. 

At the moment, she found some peace and quiet sitting on the edge of the fountain, listening to the water trickle behind her while she watched the sun set behind the mountains. With winter approaching, there was already snow beginning to gather at the peaks, but the air around her was still at a comfortable temperature. It was a nice and relaxing evening, the sounds of chirping small birdlike dragons filling the air. They seemed so happy, so content in their environment, just as she was. This palace was old and huge, architecturally brilliant in design with nearly impenetrable defenses, which were admittedly quite new. 

Since Bakugou took back his homeland, he had done everything in his power to reinforce it, to return it to the glory and status that it once represented. A place of fire, of power and of dragons, that would send other territories running with their tails between their legs. Not all was back to how it should be, as there were still many repairs that needed to be done and laws to be corrected, but there had been a lot of progress. His people were so thankful for the return of his bloodline and rule, as they had been in turmoil before he came back. Koge loved watching him work, able to see him absolutely beaming with pride. 

Being his wife was everything she had ever dreamed of. After the birth of their first son, they celebrated with an extravagant wedding, party and crowning ceremony. Yes, it all went very well, though Koge did have to admit her favorite parts were running off with Bakugou during the midst of the festivities to find a quiet place just to each other. So much attention and respect was something she had difficulty growing used to, and despite her attempts, she still could not understand people well. It had gotten better as she learned to read lips and relate them to written words, and Bakugou was there as often as he could be to help. Teaching her was also a priority for him, and it became a true bonding experience for them at the beginning. 

It wasn’t just her speech that he had helped her with all these years. Slowly, her mental and emotional wounds were healed, her trauma locked away but not forgotten. There were still dreams and moments of panic that she couldn’t control, but as he had promised, Bakugou never left her when she needed him to recover. He was just as much of a stubborn hardass as when she first met him, distant and rough to the world. But with her and behind closed doors, he was affectionate and gentle at times, though that wasn’t to say that he completely rid himself of that fiery attitude that she adored. 

With a tender touch, she reached up to run her fingers along the necklace that rested near her collarbone, feeling the smooth metal. Along with the ring on her finger, this was a gift Bakugou had given her on their wedding night in the privacy of their chambers, a sentimental gift that she wore every day without fail. And then, as if on cue, she could hear his voice booming down the hallway. 

“Where’s your Mom? Huh? You said you knew where she was, squirt.” 

“I do know, Daddy! She’s at the fountain!”  

“You sure about that? How do you know?”  

“I can smell her, duh!”  

Koge couldn’t resist the smile that crossed her lips, turning her body a bit to watch the entrance to the courtyard. Soon enough, the tiny body of her daughter sprang forth, bouncing and pointing in excitement towards her.  

“See, see?! She’s here, just like I said!” The eight-year-old Natsuki pushed her wild hair blonde hair out of her face, as if to make sure she was actually looking at her mother and not some stranger. Rounding the corner behind here was Bakugou, holding their youngest in his arms with their eldest walking along beside him. Even though all the stress and physical trauma that Koge had gone through while pregnant with him, Matsuki was born completely healthy, though was quite timid natured compared to his siblings. Atsuki, the youngest at three years old, was showing the most promising signs as far as inheriting Bakugou’s magic. For now, though, that wasn’t something that was on the parent's minds. They just wanted to enjoy their family.  

Koge giggled softly, giving a small wave to them as Natsuki dashed across the grass to her. “Well hello my babies! You could smell me, huh? Does that mean I stink?”  

Natsuki scoffed as she hopped up to stand on the edge of the fountain next to her mother, tenderly messing with her jeweled hair piece. “No, Momma,” the young girl stood closer as Koge put her arm around her legs. “I’m just a good smeller!”  

“Ooh a good smeller, of course!” Koge’s gaze moved up to Bakugou as he came to stand beside her as well. “And why were you looking for me, hm?”  

Bakugou chuckled, patting Atsuki on the back. Sucking on his thumb, it was obvious that the child had been crying. “He was worried that he couldn’t find you. So, we set out looking.”  

“Aw, my poor darling.” Koge took the baby as Bakugou handed him towards her, letting the child wrap his arms around her neck and rest against her shoulder. “Mommy is always very close, baby. You can always find me.” In happiness of hearing her voice, Atsuki’s white and red accented tail began to sway.  

“How’d class go?” Koge questioned Matsuki, who flopped to sit on the grass. His tail wrapped absentmindedly around his own hips, blue eyes looking up to the sky in thought.  

“Hmm… Fine, I guess. It was hard for me to focus because my head hurts from my horns…” Matsuki reached up and rubbed the skin around his light blue horns, where they were growing in on the sides of his head near his ears, much like Koge’s. So far, he was the only one to sprout both horns and a tail. Natsuki didn’t seem to be growing in any physical dragon features just yet, and Atsuki was still too young to have anything but his tail. None of them had the ability to change just yet, but that didn’t usually manifest until they hit their growth stunt in their twenties.  

“Don’t worry, we’ll use ice and heat on them again tonight before bed. And how about you?” Koge looked up at Bakugou, smiling as he sat down on the other side of her with a sigh.  

“They all did well in class today, I think. They can all summon the magic, just at different levels.” Bakugou let his arm rest around her hips as Natsuki moved away, starting her trek around the rim of the fountain. Koge leaned her body against him, letting her toddler son go so he could follow his sister, though she did quietly warn him to be careful.  

“I’m glad they did well in class.” She watched Atsuki for a moment before turning her attention to her husband, feeling her cheeks flush as he placed a small, affectionate kiss on the top of her head. “But they have an amazing teacher, so I’m not surprised.”  

Bakugou gave an amused scoff and a small shake of his head. “C’mon now, don’t make my head bigger than it already is. I--”  

He was interrupted by a sudden loud squeal and the sound of splashing, turning to look at the chaos behind him. Natsuki had fallen into the shallow pool of the fountain, pushing herself up out of the water and giving a violent shake of her head. “I slipped!”  

Before anyone else could react, Atsuki took it upon himself to jump in beside her, laughing as he fell back to sit. “I slipped!”  

“Don’t copy me, Astu!” Face red and pout on her lips, Natsuki huffed, bringing herself to her knees. “It’s not funny!”  

Obviously worried, even though there was no need to be, Matsuki made his way over to reach in. “Here, Natsu, I’ll help you-- AH!” With a yell of his own, and a malicious betrayal by his sister, Matsuki was yanked into the pool, off balance and fumbling over his own feet.  

Watching them wrestle and splash each other, Bakugou couldn’t help but to chuckle, even though playing in the fountain was against the rules he had set. “Hey, what do you three think you’re doing?”  

“Babies, you know you’re not supposed to get in the--”  

Suddenly, both parents were showered with water, not a single word of their scolding heard.  

“Ah, Natsuki, you splashed Mom--!”  

“You started wrestling with me! All I did was pull you in! Hey, no using your tail, cheater!”  

Feeling as if any attempts to stop them were useless at the point, Koge smiled up at Bakugou, giving a shrug in surrender. “Let them have some fun. But hey, you know what they say.”  

“What do they say?”  

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!” Snatching onto his clothes before he could even react, Koge fell backwards with him into the pool, laughing as he yelled. They both landed with a large splash, Koge’s laughter joined in by her children.  

Never in her life had Koge ever expected to have a family like this, to find happiness and a place to belong. It was everything she had ever wanted, and these moments are what made all the hardships wither away.  

Propping himself up on one elbow, Bakugou scoffed as he pushed his hair back out of his face, though the smirk on his lips told Koge that he wasn’t upset at all, even as he complained. “What the hell, Koge? You think you’re funny?”  

“Oh yes, I’m hilarious.” Koge dug her fingers into his top, pulling him in closer. “Now give me a kiss, you punk.”  

Caressing her cheek, Bakugou did as commanded, catching her lips with his own in a gentle but playful kiss. It didn’t last long, however, as Bakugou was suddenly tackled to the side by his daughter and youngest son, laughing as he wrapped his arms around both of them. As the treason was committed in the form of hugs and other such horrendous affections, Koge sat up and leaned back against the center of the fountain, smiling from ear to ear.  

Her heart was full to the brim, over spilling with pure love for her family. She had her children, a husband that she adored, and a happiness that she was sure would be everlasting.  

In the end, what more could the little halfling ask for?

[stattic-writes]

Branch Evolution

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

Support My Writing?

[thewritewolf]

Nino’s Quest Chapter 7: Audience With the King

The party finally meets up with the King and they receive their next quest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi.

Direct Message From Alya

Alya: babe. Have you noticed anything… ...weird? With the babies

Nino: Our babies? Yeah M’s back to her usual with my bro And adrien is a blushy mess around her Crazy

Alya: Is this progress? It feels like a side step Or taking a step forward… ...and tripping on their face.

Nino: Well, if they could get comfortable around each other before…

Alya: Babe its WAY worse now than what it was before Now NEITHER of them are talking to each other God they’re frustrating

Nino: Did it have something to do with that last akuma? You said you saw them heading toward it before things got crazy

Alya: Maybe? BUT OMG THAT BATTLE

Nino: ??? What happened??

Alya: After they beat the akuma They got the hell away from each other Super pale No fist bump I posted pics on the ldb

Nino: Lemme check Wait Are they blushing?

Alya: gr8 Now i’m even more confused

Nino: lmao Your fleet of ships! It is sinking, babe

Alya: Don’t even JOKE about that! Ladynoir WILL set sail Marinette WILL get her hamsters with Adrien

Nino: lol Just teasin Let em figure stuff out on their own They’ll get there

Alya: I hope youre right…

Nino: Trust me, babe. I AM a master of romance

Alya: Yeah? Where’d you get those credentials, huh?

Nino: I got you, didn’t I?

Alya: … Smooth, cappy Very smooth

-------

Lord DM: Alright, my dudes, we have agreed that there WILL be dnd this weekend. The question is now… ...where the heck is it going to be.

Adrien Regreste: Definitely not at my place They are barely letting me out No way are they going to let me have friends over [crying cat face]

Alya’ll Beware: yeah and its not going to be any better at my place Esp with Nora back in town

Lord DM: What bout u, M?

Marinoodles: There is a big order at the bakery They don’t need my help BUT They DO need the extra space My place is out

Lord DM: Well dang Looks like i’ll have to bring out the big guns You guys can come over to my place

Adrien Regreste: [shocked emoji] I never thought I’d see the day…

Alya’ll Beware: lol, chill sunshine. Stay focused on the dnd

Lord DM: No no Let him bask Few mortals get this honor

Alya’ll Beware: [eye roll emoji]

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

Saturday arrived at long last, and Nino took stock of his preparations for the day. His little bro out with their parents. A stack of chip bags and pop and all the things that would make Adrien’s nutritionist twitch. Bean bag chairs for him and all his friends. Ambiance from tabletop audio. Everything had to be right - they were meeting with the Good King Haman, after all. It was one of the climaxes of the campaign.

Which was why he was worried when everyone finally got there.

Adrien had picked up everyone, of course, which might explain why he and Marinette were already a blushing mess. Nino glanced to Alya for clues, but all she had for him was a frown and a shrug.

The two of them sat opposite each other, with Alya opposite Nino. There was a pregnant silence where usually they would have their pre-session chat.

Nino considered himself a pretty empathetic kinda guy. It wasn’t that hard for him to get a feel for the room, or put himself in other people’s shoes. But even for him, his two friends were a stone wall. The only thing he could say for sure is that they weren’t angry with each other. Maybe just… scared. Which was weird, but hey - Dungeons and Dragons hadn’t let him down yet. Maybe it could help them now.

With that in mind, Nino started the session. “After spending the morning making yourselves look like you totally belong at court - with different amounts of success - you make your way to the royal castle. Looks like someone’s looking out for you, since the usually long line to see the king is super short today.”

“Finally, some kind of break,” Alya grumbled. “After bandits and assassins, at least we don’t have to wait in line.”

“After an hour, you finally find yourselves face to face with the King himself. While it is clear that he is no longer the adventuring knight of his youth, he’s still got the broad shoulders and strong arms of a fighter. His jeweled, golden crown rests easily atop his head. He watches you intently as you approach, a well groomed eyebrow raised as he takes in your martial appearance.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, we’re in armor and stuff?”

“Well,” Marinette responded, “we are adventurers. We should never be too far from our gear.”

Bowing his head in acquiescence, Adrien returned his attention to Nino.

“After you are declared, the King seems even more curious about you. He speaks with a clear, booming voice, one used to commanding armies in the field. ‘I recognize your names. There was a wretched matter afoot last night - one that you were the center of. I admit, I had wondered what would force someone’s hand in such a way as to send assassins. What business do you have with me?’”

When it became clear that both Marinette and Adrien weren’t going to speak up - each seemed to be stuck in a cycle of catching the other’s eye, blushing, and looking somewhere else - Alya sighed and responded.

She cleared her throat. “During our travels, we uncovered something that we felt you ought to know. There was a…” Her eyes widened and she glanced between her flustered friends. “Um… What was he called? An evil sorcerer?”

Marinette mumbled something that might have been, “Dark adept.”

“Thanks, M.” Straightening her back, Alya looked toward Nino again. “There was a dark adept raising the dead to fight for him.”

“A flurry of murmuring erupts around you. The royal guard flanking the King tighten their grips on their halberds. The King himself has his lips tighten into a thin line before saying, ‘That is a bold claim, young knight. I trust that you brought justice to this renegade, in accordance with the laws of our land?’”

Alya nodded. “Of course! But there is more to it than that.” She checks her character sheet. “Who has the decrypted journal of the dark adept? It looks like it isn’t on me.”

There was a rustling of papers.

“Oh, right,” Adrien said, “I forgot that I was checking it for other clues.”

“Is that when you rolled another one and forgot how to read for a few hours?”

“Hush.”

“Anyway,” Alya said, returning to her character voice, “My ally has a decrypted journal we took from the adepts quarters. There were repeated references to the adept’s master, and hints of a larger plot against the kingdom.”

“The King frowns. ‘Let me see this journal.’”

“I’ll take it up to him.”

“He takes it from Adrien’s character and quickly skims through it, his eyes narrowing as he reaches the end. ‘I must thank you for your work in ending this threat, but it seems a larger one has made itself known. While I am sure you must want to rest, I must ask you to meet this threat to the kingdom.’ He gestures to an advisor nearby. ‘Pay these heroes five hundred gold pieces for each of them.’ His eyes land on you once again. ‘I’ll pay double that once you bring me proof that the Necromancer is dead, and his plot has died with him. Do you accept?’”

The other three exchanged looks between them.

“I’m all for earning a name for myself. And a quest from King Haman himself is about as good as it gets. I’m in.”

“I don’t have anything else planned,” Marinette shrugged, her eyes pointedly on the table in front of her. “I’m sure fighting evil will be its own kind of fun.”

“And where she goes,” Adrien nodded towards Marinette and met her eye. His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “...I’ll follow. Always.”

Something passed between them and it felt almost as if Nino were intruding. The moment passed, and the two of them broke out into furious blushes again.

“Right… so. The king nods, a faint smile on his lips. ‘Excellent. May the gods be with you in your quest.’” Nino took a sip of his drink. “Well, now you’re a little richer, and its time to level up your characters.”

For the rest of the session, Nino walked them through their first time leveling up and taught them the time honored art of spending their hard-earned gold. A new rapier for Adrien. Alchemist’s fire for Marinette. That sort of thing. They were feeling more confident now that they had more than their starting array of equipment, and Nino smiled as he watched them work. It was good to be the dungeon master.

--------

Later, after Adrien had taken Marinette home, Alya and Nino cuddled on the couch. With how big both their families were, it wasn’t often that they got a chance to hang out alone.

For a while, Nino was comfortable with the silence. But then curiosity got the better of him.

“So… how are you liking Dungeons and Dragons now? Still think it’s just for nerds?” He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I admit… I’m having loads of fun. It’s always nice to spend more time with you guys. And you especially,” Alya said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “I’ve gotten surprisingly invested in this story. It almost feels like being Rena Rouge again, fighting evil and all that.”

“Not as likely to end up getting thrashed by a super villain, though.”

“Fair. And it’s nice to act like someone else for a while. Although,” she stretched, “it’s also nice when I don’t have to be the one taking the lead. I hope the babies get their act together soon. Being the leader is exhausting.”

“Poor babe,” Nino cooed, earning himself a gentle punch in the shoulder from his girlfriend. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll figure things out sooner or later.”

“It’s the later part I’m worried about. I just hope they’ll get their act together by next session.”

“I’m sure they will.” Nino wrapped his arms around Alya. “What’s the worst that could have happened? It’s not like they have big secrets that they are sitting on.”

They considered this for a few moments before Nino added,

“Besides the obvious crush thing, at least.”