#oh almost all little dots that are in the center mean he's fine with either

[neriyon]

First one from twitter (link) and the redder one from this post (link).

Couldn't decide which one to do so filled both (￣▽￣)" Tried to vary those red/green flag questions a little, but they ended up pretty similar. Link to the song is here. Second pic is sadly a bit harder to read (sorry couldn't be bothered to redo it after I noticed).

What else uhh.... these romantic things are always a bit weird to fill with Hawu'li because he doesn't really have any hard "types". If you are a guy and at least somewhat nice to him he'll most likely be open to trying dating... and even if you are a literal villain, he might consider it if you are really pretty (*cough* Zenos). I guess it depends mostly on the fact if the potential partner finds him annoying or not haha.

[willadisastercry]

More than ‘just a little tired’: the aftermath part 2

tw: lil bit of gore described, burn wounds, collapsing, lots of pain described, muscle relaxer used and effects described, slight paralysis ensues, emotionally heavy towards end.

Keith finally let’s his friends help him but his adrenaline is fading rapidly and everyone is still focused on fussing over Pidge. Lance is distraught with how cold Shiro is being, he doesn’t understand why no one is listening to him while he’s literally supporting Keith with his own body as he crashes. Hunk needs to look at something other than the blood and gore so he tries to find Coran’s magic cream and is just proud he only threw up once.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

“Woah, Hunk! He’s going down!”

Lance dropped to his knee as he struggled to keep Keith from falling further out of his grasp, his face now deathly pale and pressed against his shoulder as he took in large, shuddering breaths to try remain conscious.

“We’ve gotcha bud,” Hunk’s hand snaked around his waist then as Lance righted himself and they brought him back onto unsteady legs, his right not even strong enough now to put much weight on without buckling.

“C’mon we gotta go...”

With his arms slung over either boy’s shoulders and their hands hoisting his hips up by the supply pack on his utility belt, they made their way to the med bay relatively quickly, a feat of which was only possible because at some point Keith had stopped trying to keep up and allowing himself to be dragged was surprisingly a lot faster.

The whooshing of the med bay doors after what felt like an enternity was what startled Keith into opening his eyes again.

“Oh, hey guys...” Shiro said, sparing only a partial glance their way before continuing to pour over Pidge with Coran and Allura. She was awake and fighting the helping hands.

No one seemed to notice Keith’s prone form held up entirely by his friends who stood frozen in the doorway, a bit at a loss for how to proceed.

“I think I’m fine, guys! Seriously. All that’s left is already half healed and not nearly deep enough to warrant a freaking pod!”

“Maybe, but you still lost a lot of blood that will need to be repelenished...” Coran pointed, his mustache twitching as he attempted to convey the necessity of the percaution and failed.

Keith’s legs hadn’t been contributing much to the effort of keeping him standing but admittedly had some part in it because the longer they remained where they stood the more they seemed to melt into jelly.

The adrenaline had almost entirely worn off by then, leaving his body buzzing as the pain slowly intensified.

“G-guys...” Keith whispered weakly, his voice was barely audible.

“What’s—“

“Need to sit... like now...” he managed before his legs were wobbling dangerously, suddenly devoid of all the strength that remained in them.

“Alright, that’s okay. Over there, Lance,” Hunk assured, his injured leg completely useless as he transferred even more of Keith’s weight onto his hip to make up the difference while they ushered him towards one of the chairs across the room.

“Uhhhh, how much longer you guys gonna be with Pidge?” Lance questioned nervously once they’d settled Keith down, his heart clenching with fear for how grey his face had gotten, his hands never leaving his drawn up shoulders out of fear of what would happen if he did.

Hunk was already across the room tearing apart medicine cabinets for the burn cream he’d mentioned and Keith was finding it increasingly difficult to support his own body weight.

“Woah! Okkay—that’s okay, just lean against me,” Lance offered when Keith couldn’t keep himself from swaying as he narrowly avoided leaning back against the chair, nearly tilting out of it before Lance righted him and guided his head to lean against his hip.

“We’ll be done as soon as Pidge stops being difficult... why?” Shiro asked, his eyes still scanning the partially mended slash across the smaller girl’s stomach.

“Just uh, Keith is sort of not doing so well.”

Lance wasn’t entirely sure he understood why everyone was being so curt and dismissive, not tearing their eyes away from a clearly fine Pidge, who yes, at one point had been not fine at all, but was now.

And Keith wasn’t.

The blasts on his back were... bad.

Bad enough for him to be in so much pain he was forced to accept his friend’s help. Lance also figured the haunting glaze of exhaustion in his eyes and purple bruises beneath them had a good deal to do with lowering his defenses, the realization of just how tired he was sending another jab to his chest.

The material of his suit looked like it had melted into his skin, lining the edges of the puffy burns with a smokey black. Some were larger than others but there were at least a dozen and they were all bleeding steadily, the constant rise and fall of his chest making it impossible for any of them to clot.

“I’ll come check him out once—“

The burns were so deep, like little caverns carved into his skin and Lance was suddenly concerned about how zapped the nerves must be that he didn’t even realize he’d been injured this severely.

They looked so painful.

Breathing looked painful. And sitting, and talking and the way moving air brushed against them.

Shit, Keith.

“No, Shiro...”

The words came from deep in his throat, his voice low and serious, a stark derision from his usually charming vibrato.

“I think someone needs to check him out now. We’re talking about Keith here! You should know better than anyone that when he’s says he’s not okay, he means it.”

Shiro’s shoulders dropped as he straightened up, Lance couldn’t even find it in himself to worry about getting told off for his tone with how angry he was, his irritation justifying itself as he watched Keith’s breathing devolve into something more and more erratic.

The room seemed to silence all at once after he’d raised his voice. The inflection of it, shrill with fear and frustration is what got Shiro to finally look their way, his already weary expression falling further at the horror of how Keith looked against Lance. Slumped and panting, his features tight in anguish as blood dripped steadily from somewhere and collected in a now sizeable puddle on the floor.

Pidge was being forced to lay back down when surging up to see what was wrong had her keening and clutching her middle, Allura remaining at her side while Shiro and Coran raced over to the boys.

“What the fuck happened?!” Shiro demanded, his eyes grey pinpoints that bored into Lance with a sort of accusation until the two men reached the pair, both gasping simultaneously when they got close enough to take in the sight of Keith’s back.

“I don’t-I don’t understand, you said you were tired Keith!”

“Plasma blast burns... most of them 2nd degree it looks like...” Coran offered, his eyes flicking wildly as they scanned the burnt and bloody skin.

“He is tired...” Lance assured, turning his gaze back to Keith’s shaking shoulders. His trembles seemed more like spasms then, each jerk prompting a fresh gush of red from the wounds.

“He’s fucking exhausted but was too stubborn to tell anyone he was hurt...” he continued as Coran left muttering to himself in search of supplies, joining Hunk in his endeavor of locating more than just the burn cream now.

“S-sorry... really thought it was just one...” Keith explained before Shiro shushed him, crouching down to run his hand through his hair even though it was slightly damp with sweat.

His eyes weren’t open so he tensed when the hand first fell into place but soon softened under Shiro’s touch, the cold weight of the galra metal oddly comforting.

“It’s not on you, bud. I should’ve checked in more thoroughly, looked you over myself...”

Lance seethed at that, Keith was feeling guilty when Shiro was the one who had fucked up by ignoring him. He didn’t even sound sorry.

“Damn right you sh—“

“What’s that?” Shiro entreated, cutting him off and lifting his head to face the younger boy with something so fierce in his eyes that Lance had to force himself to look elsewhere.

As much as he wanted to tell Shiro how royally he’d fuck up he knew it wouldn’t be productive. Knew full well that the last thing anyone needed was more chaos.

But before Lance had to take actual precautions to contain his anger, Keith made a noise as if he wanted to respond but all that came out was a defeated whine as his chest stuttered which pulled even more at the mess of his back, sending him into a fit of flinching and hissing.

“Hey, you’re alright—“ Lance cooed, the additional hand on Keith’s neck centering him while he tried to ride out the pain without causing more “—that’s it, just take a second to calm down...”

But Keith couldn’t calm his breathing in time to avoid the waves of agony that followed such harsh breaths, eventually becoming desperate enough to clamp his lips shut and hold his breath until his heart let up with its incessant pounding.

This admittedly made the general haze clouding his mind so much worse, sending black dots dancing across the floor as he stared at it against Lance. He hadn’t realized when his hands had traveled up to clutch at Lance’s stomach but they were there now, clawing at the unwavering material stuck to his torso like glue for something to hold onto.

There were so many hands on him but he couldn’t feel much of anything other than the heat on his back and strain in his lungs as he continued to restrict his breathing. It had come to hurt so badly he was afraid to even try to breath normally again.

“-ith!”

Voices sounded so weird and distant then, like they were calling to him from across a noisy room.

“KEITH!”

It wasn’t until someone was knelt down next to him and nearly screaming in his ear that he could understand anything.

“Stop doing that, you have to take deeper breaths or you’ll pass out...”

But he couldn’t manage anything other than short and rapid inhales that weren’t nearly enough. He didn’t care if he passed out. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if he were unconscious and it had gotten to a point where he sort of wished for that kind of relief.

Coran was speaking to Shiro over them then, of which Keith had only ascertained from the way Shiro’s hand left the base of his skull to rest more on the crown of his head just as a dull and disordered humming began.

His hearing had abandoned him again once Shiro left his position, reducing the conversation to unintelligible murmurs drowned out by the rumbling in his eardrums. The static spotting his vision not letting up as the blast wounds burned relentlessly on his back. It felt like there were literal flames licking up at even the slightest movement and marring deep as the fire only seemed to spread.

The entire expanse of his upper body had gone numb with it, his arms slack at his sides and his neck weak under the weight of his head as he put all of his concentration into slowing his breathing and keeping it as controlled as possible. He didn’t even feel the hands slipping under his armpits or fingers tugging at his supply belt, only the scorching stretch of his body straightening as he was pulled to his feet.

Lance and Shiro shifted around him with care, Shiro guiding his head to rest on his shoulder when it rolled limply, Coran hovering anxiously as they struggled to lift him to his feet without jarring his injuries. In reality, it was entirely unavoidable but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

Keith really tried to hold his own weight this time, but as soon as he was upright, his back lit with a new fury that had his vision whiting. Soon he couldn’t even be certain his feet were still on the ground as his body went lax and the darkness that had been teasing him descended quicker than he could process.

He assumed he had screamed bloody murder since his stinging throat was the only pain he could pinpoint as he lost consciousness, but by then he wouldn’t have been able to hear his own voice if he spoke so he wasn’t be sure. All he knew was that he’d pitched into a slew of arms like his bones had spontaneously emulsified, blissfully unaware as to how the whole room seemed to cry out when he did.

Pidge was near tears with Allura struggling to assure her that Keith would be fine, and Hunk was so startled by the commotion that he had nearly flung the supplies he was organizing on a sterile tray.

“Let’s get him settled comfortably before he comes to,” Coran ordered, his voice sharp and anguished as he motioned towards where Hunk was stood.

Together and with considerable effort the three dragged Keith’s limp body to the other side of the room, careful to keep his torso straight and his injured leg from bending so they didn’t inflame his wounds further, depositing his lifeless weight onto the table on his stomach where all of his injuries could be tended to.

“We have to get as much of the suit off as possible... some of it will of course take a little more effort,” Coran sighed as he poked at one of the darker blast marks with a wider radius than most of the other. There was a ring of molten black around it that looked like it had dripped into the pit of missing flesh from where the material of the suit had melted off. The sentry that shot him there must have been only a few feet away.

“Alaran...” Allura gasped out as she made her way to the group once Pidge had calmed down enough to be left alone.

“These are going to need extensive cleaning before we can put him into a pod.”

“I know, Princess. Let’s get started, maybe we can get the bulk of it finished while he’s still uncioncious,” Coran postured, distributing the supplies Hunk had gathered to everyone.

The task was harrowing and had everyone slightly queasy, but the urgency to complete the process before Keith woke up prevailed everyone’s gag reflexes, even Hunk’s.

Being enveloped by the black that had teased him so long wasn’t as bad as Keith had imagined it would be. It was warm like this, more absent of cold than possesing a distinguishable heat. Pleasant. Peaceful even. A more than welcomed improvement to the inferno he was slowly being consumed by when he was awake and alert.

Sounds started coming back to him slowly as his body recovered from the shock of his plummet in blood pressure. His friends’ words sharpening gradually to where he could almost make out what they were saying.

“...suction... yes, that bit has to go as well...”

He still felt floaty and numb from the pain but knew he was laying on his front and could feel a sensation of tugging and pulling on his back.

“...keeps moving... waking up...”

It wasn’t so much painful as it was uncomfortable in his state of semi-consciousness.

“...dangerous to... sedative before a prolonged stay in the pod...”

His brain was just too fuzzy, still replenishing the blood supply to his brain.

“...looks like he’s in pain...”

Each moment he remained in limbo he grew more restless.

“...Coran I can’t... this piece... tearing the skin...”

The in and out of everything was making him anxious, he’d rather just be entirely out or entirely conscious.

“...should will help with any discomfort...”

Whatever was meant to help wasn’t. He was aware he’d probably been given some sort of drug or medicine but still he couldn’t relax.

It didn’t matter that he was utterly exhausted, his body was reacting to the anxiety bubbling in his stomach whether he had the energy to support such a reaction or not.

“...easy Keith...”

That’s the thing, he couldn’t take it easy. His mind was wired and his body was going into shock once again as things clarified and he woke up more.

“You’re alright number four... steady now, just breathe...��

If he thought it was hard to breathe before it seemed like it was absolutely impossible now.

“-us? Keith...? Keith, can you hear us?”

He could. He could hear everything now. It was all so loud and piercing, everyone’s voices, the tools clicking, his heart beating, the tear of medical supplies packages. Everything was so crisp and right there, the smallest noises sending tingles down his spine that made him want to cringe and he struggled to surpress the urge to.

“Quiznak! Coran I’m gonna hurt him if he keeps squirming!”

He was panting now, his mouth hung open against the towel folded under his face that was catching the blood still leaking from the wound under his eye. A hand came down on the back of his neck and he jumped.

That did it for the pain that seemed to have been numbed, not gone, just too far away for him to register. It was just as close as all of the sounds were now.

Hands clutched at his shoulders and forearms and hips as he wailed, pushing him flat so his flailing didn’t make it worse. He sobbed loudly and unabashedly as the pain surged its way back to the forefront of his awareness, a strange warmth similar to the one he’d felt when he had passed out taking the edge off but not staving it much.

“Keith! Listen to me, you have to relax. I know this is torture, but you’re only going to make it worse if you keep struggling,” Shiro urged, his voice the closest.

Shiro was right, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control of his movements anymore, because if he was he would listen. He didn’t want to hurt anymore but his body didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Coran,” Allura said sadly, her eyes looking at him with a sort of heart breaking resolution.

“Okay, Princess,” he agreed, his expression falling dejectedly.

“What-what is it? What just happened?!” Lance asked worriedly, knowing something had seemingly been decided but no idea as to what.

“We’re going to have to give him a muscle relaxer to keep him still, but it won’t take away his pain. We simply cannot risk putting him in a pod while medically sedated, we couldn’t be sure he would ever wake again if we did.”

For the second time that evening a collective silence fell over the room, one filled with such aching and regret and fear that it was as if it wasn’t silent at all.

“Do whatever you have to,” Shiro advocated, handing the tools he’d been using to Hunk.

“But he’ll be in pain Shiro?!” Lance noted desperately, his indignation back in full force.

Shiro just looked at him sadly and moved to drag a stool over to the other end of the table where Keith’s head was, his face twisted up as his sounds of pain continued.

“How can you be so heartless? It wouldn’t be so painful if Allura had partially healed him too! If you had given enough of a shit to notice sooner! To notice at all!”

The sound of Lance yelling bore into Keith’s skull sickeningly, his body unable to contain the shiver that overtook his muscles at how bone deep the sound irked his now oversentive ears.

“Lance—“

“No, Allura. He’s right, this is my fault. I was too focused on the fact that Pidge was hurt to notice that he was too and now he’s worse off because of it. I didn’t listen to him when I should’ve. Administer whatever you have to Coran, I’ll help him through this, it’s the least I can do right now...”

Coran didn’t have to be told twice, skillfully pulling liquid from a vile with a syringe that he poked gently into Keith’s neck.

Hunk nudged Lance’s arm to break his death glare at Shiro and get back to freeing one of the wider wounds on his shoulder as the medicine took affect almost immediately.

“Sh-sh-shir-Shiro...”

“I’m right here, shhhh, don’t speak. Just relax, I’ve got you,” Shiro soothed, grasping Keith’s hand tightly as he took shuddering breaths that grew more and more shallow as whatever control he had left over his body slipped away from him.

With some last few twitches he sagged completely into the table. The hand clutching Shiro’s released its grip and the older boy started to thumb assuring circles into the limp appendage since he could still feel it.

“This is gonna suck, but just focus on me okay?”

Keith couldn’t nod, couldn’t move his exhausted body at all now, so he sighed instead. The tears that had welled at his eyes falling defeatedly and mixing with the blood staining his right cheek to make a slightly pinker mess on the towel beneath him.

“Just focus on me...”

[s1st3r]

Coincidence (Fives x f!Reader) Part 1

Author Note: This was originally a super basic idea that I just got really carried away with and before I knew it I had 1666 words and was like “welP. We’re doing multi chapter stuff now”. Bit of a slow pace at the moment. Part 2 will have more action.

Summary: You and Fives are assigned on a delicate infiltration mission. 

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1666

Rex’s POV

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to have them working together on this mission?”

I had to admit, I too was second guessing. It was a risky move, but I had faith that Fives and Y/N could pull this off.

“Yes sir,” I affirmed, “their specialised training accommodates for missions of this nature.”

“I’m well aware of their training Rex.” General Skywalker replied as we entered the bridge and approached the holotable. “I just wonder if things might get too… personal.”

“Sir, they’re the most dedicated soldiers I’ve ever met-“

“You mean the most stubborn,” Ahsoka, whom had been waiting for us on the bridge, supplied with a grin.

The general nodded his head reluctantly as though not completely convinced. He brought his hand up to rest on his chin as he contemplated.

“The communications have been established sir,” interrupted Admiral Yularen as he joined those of us surrounding the holotable.

A crackling sound came through as Fives and Y/N’s comms came online.

“Y/N comm check.”

“Fives comm check.”

General Skywalker leaned forward, overseeing the map of the multi-level mansion before him and the two red bleeping icons that signaled their positions.

“You’re clear to proceed,” he advised.

“Copy that,” rang Y/N’s clear voice.

I turned to face the general.

“They know what needs to be done sir.”

Skywalker considered my words carefully. He sighed, “I don’t know Rex. What if they’re not prepared to do what needs to be done?”

  Your POV

Heels echoed throughout the dimly lit hallway as I followed the sound of distant music and murmuring that spilled from the ballroom. As I drew closer, I held my breath in anticipation.

Or was that just this ridiculously tight corset?

I fluttered the fan in my hand in a feeble attempt to act like the lady everyone thought I was, while forcing some oxygen into my lungs. I took a deep gulp of air and compelled a graceful smile to my lips before I stepped into the light and glamour of the ongoing party.

Swiftly, I made my way over to the far side of the room where small tables covered in fine white tablecloth were dotted about for guests to rest at when their feet got tired of the dancing. Since it was still early in the night, many seats were yet to be occupied.

As inconspicuously as I could, I seated myself at a table displaced relatively far from the crowded dance floor. Casually, as if simply admiring the grand space, I surveyed the area. The room itself had to be at least three stories high with massive columns reaching up from the marble floor and curving to intertwine at the center of the ceiling, creating an arched effect. A magnificent chandelier was strung from the heights of the room and casted a beautiful reflection upon the floor’s surface and her dancers.

Hundreds of strangers in expensive clothing mingled below, constantly switching partners through the course of the dance. Swirling skirts and glimmering jewels were all that could be seen as I observed the onslaught of people.

All of this I saw in only a glance before my eyes found our man across the dance floor from me. He stood tall in a suit, cane in hand, as he conversed with other young men. Unfortunately, my eyes failed to find my man who was meant to be already situated at the main hall’s back exit.

I noted to my right, an approaching butler serving crystal glasses filled with rich red wine. Effortlessly, I reached out, seized a glass from the silver tray as he passed and brought the goblet to my lips as though to drink.

“I’m in position,” I muttered. “Eyes are on the target and ready to engage. Fives where are you?”

Small static sounds could be heard through my comm as the audio came through.

“Relax,” came the smooth reply, “I wouldn’t want to miss the party.” I resisted rolling my eyes at the slight tease in his tone. “Besides,” he continued, his voice dropping low, “I would love to see you in that dress again mesh’la.”

“Focus Fives.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth at the General’s curt interruption.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fives slip through a side door clad in the guard uniform he had stolen. My smirk grew. He looked so cute in the dress uniform; little epaulettes and all. Clearly Fives wasn’t the only one distracted. I forced my attention to the task at hand.

“Ready when you are.”

“About time,” I breathed as I left my cup on the table and stood. “Approaching target.”

 The Jedi Council had heard of a new Separatist general joining the fray.

Yavaros Tai.

Rumour had it that Tai was finalising his designs of a deadly weapon that he was revealing to his Separatist sponsors tonight. Clearly, the surrounding men he spoke to were his said benefactors. Wealth dangled from them.

Edging closer, I noted that he looked far younger than I had anticipated. No older than his mid-twenties.

The dark blue floral dress I wore dragged along the floor, so much so, not even my heeled shoes had given me the height I needed, and I resorted to tug the front of my dress upward to refrain from tripping. I hoped that all would go to plan, and I wouldn’t have to try and run in this thing. My only comfort was that I was well rehearsed in these kinds of missions and, on more than one occasion, proved myself to be surprisingly sufficient in improvising… and running.

As I approached the group of men, I planned my next steps carefully in my head. Now, with them only a few feet to my right, I looked over my shoulder as though entranced and distracted. An oblivious dancer, close to the edge of the throng, accidently collided into me and sent me tumbling. Before I could even register the surprised shouts of men, strong arms caught me, and I looked up to see the bright blue eyes of General Tai. Perfect.

  Fives’s POV

She was beautiful.

I knew we were in the middle of a mission, but my eyes were completely spellbound as they intently traced her movements. She moved with a grace and sophistication I had never seen on her before and, despite being dressed to fit in for the event, she stood out like a rose among thorns.

From my position near the doorway, I spied the envious looks from the surrounding women as she walked the expanse of the hall. I didn’t fail to realise the visible admiration from the men nearby either, but my brief jealousy was quickly replaced by pride. I couldn’t help the smug smile.

That’s my girl.

I wished I could be beside her. Show those men she was mine. Maybe ask her to dance. We could dance and laugh until our feet got tired and then leave the party, running down the empty corridors. We would find a way to climb up to the roof and spend the rest of the night under the stars like I know she loved to do.

My smile faltered. Not for the first time, disappointment and love fought for control as I struggled to come to terms with reality.

Because standing alone on the outskirts, I was again reminded anew.

She may love me, but I could never give her the life she deserved.

  Your POV

My mouth gaped open in false shock.

“Oh, excuse me!” I exclaimed. “My sincerest apologies!”

The corner of General Tai’s eyes crinkled in amusement as I gathered myself and pretended to act gushed and embarrassed. Smoothing out my dress, I noted his hands still rested on my shoulders. One of them still held onto his cane. Almost reluctantly, he let his arms fall to his sides as he took in my appearance. I blushed as his penetrating eyes slowly raked down and back up my form.

“My my,” he hummed, “what a beautiful specimen.” His hand caught mine and gently lifted it to brush his lips against my knuckles. His eyes stared intently into mine. It made me uncomfortable. In many ways he was generically handsome, blue eyes, blonde hair, high cheekbones, and a refined posture. Nothing like Fives with his dark features, rugged look, wild smile, and-

“Ehem.” My thoughts were interrupted when a man to our side leaned closer to the general. “We have important matters to discuss sir.” His narrowed eyes flickered over to me. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me as he squared his shoulders.

“Nothing that can’t wait Cronan.” Yavaros’s eyes never left mine.

“But sir- “

“Cronan,” Tai interjected, finally tearing his gaze away from me to focus on the man beside him. “This is a party, is it not? Enjoy yourselves this evening gentlemen. We will discuss business later.”

Cronan shot me daggers as him and the other men dispersed and weaved themselves among the partygoers. Some opted to dance, while most continued to converse with other diplomats.

“Looks like a fun crowd,” I remarked sarcastically, drawing the general’s attention back to me.

“Ah yes,” Tai smirked as his piercing eyes turned to fix on me once more. “I should like to apologise for his curtness. Cronan is… ambitious, and very keen in his handling of business.”

I look of hunger flashed in his eyes.

“Perhaps in some ways, I am no different.” I tried not to squirm as he edged closer to me.

“Oh?”

Ahhh man.

“Mmm.” I felt his breath ghost my cheek as he whispered in my ear. “I’m ambitious to gain your affections Miss…”

“Miss Y/N,” I supplied in a breathy tone. While he mistook it for admiration, I tried to steal my nerves.

He leered. “Miss Y/N,” he murmured, as though playing how the name felt on his tongue. The tension in the air tangible. “Would you join me for a walk?”

To be continued...

~ Sister

Tags: @imalovernotahater​ @kaorikoizumi​ @xlittlemissydjx​ @damerondala​

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future works!

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Desiderium

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter One

A JSE Fanfic

Hey! Hey! New AU! :D I’m really excited for it! As you can probably tell from the title, this is a fantasy-themed one. Taking place in the kingdom known as Glasúil, where magic and strange creatures are common, a man called Chase lives a simple life in a mountain village with his family. But of course, something just has to happen, and, well...you’ll see next chapter ;) Feel free to ask me anything about this AU, even though it’s still in its early stages I have a lot of ideas that I’m eager to share!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The forest floor was blanketed in a layer of fallen leaves, red and orange and yellow matching the colors of those still on the tree branches. Bushes and shrubs made the terrain difficult for most people. But a single rabbit hopped across the ground, unhindered by the underbrush and making no sound on the crunchy fallen leaves. It stopped by a small bush, sniffed its leaves, and started to nibble on them.

Thwip! An arrow suddenly appeared next to the rabbit. It had barely landed when the rabbit was already running, darting off quickly. “Wait, no! No!” Someone shouted. A man appeared, shooting to his feet from where he’d been hiding behind a nearby bush. He nocked another arrow and let it loose, but it missed by a mile, landing in the trunk of a nearby tree. The rabbit was already gone.

“Damn it,” Chase cursed, looking down at his arm. That last shot had been sloppy; if he wasn’t wearing his arm guard, the bow string could’ve really hurt him. He tightened the guard straps and went to collect the arrows from where they’d landed. The one that hit the tree had its point chipped a bit. “Damn it,” he said again, whispering this time. If he kept chipping arrows, he’d have to buy more, and they couldn’t afford that right now.

Maybe he’d missed because it was starting to get dark. Chase looked through the branches of the trees towards the sky. He could see the rosy hint of a sunset in the distance. Well, if that wasn’t a sign that it was time to head back, he didn’t know what was. He’d already checked the snares he’d set up yesterday and set up new ones; there was nothing more to do. Disappointed, he turned back and headed east, towards town. Hopefully tomorrow he’d find more in the forest than three squirrels and a rabbit that he failed to shoot.

The trees soon thinned. Chase walked down a familiar slope of land and quickly saw the familiar buildings at the edge of town. Well, it wasn’t really a town. It was too small for that. It was actually a village, but people called it Hilltown, and so naturally it was shortened to just town. People said things like “Hey I’m heading back to town,” or “The millers live on the edge of town.” That might be confusing in a more urban setting, where there were more cities and towns close together, but they lived in the mountains. The village was the only “town” for miles.

Chase slipped in between two buildings and officially entered the village. These buildings were made of wood, and a bit rickety due to being built on sloping ground. When the village was founded, it was first built on a relatively flat area. But as it slowly grew, it had to creep upwards onto the incline that led up to the forest. The way the buildings continued onto the slope was the reason people started calling it Hilltown, though Chase had never been fond of the name.

“Hey! Is that you, Chase?”

“Huh?” Chase stopped, and looked around. He quickly spotted the source of the call: an older man, with a black beard streaked with gray, standing in the doorway of a house. “Hi, Kieran. How’re you doing?”

“Doing fine, boy,” Kieran said good-naturedly. “Come back from hunting so soon?”

“Well it is sunset. Do you expect me to shoot in the dark?” Chase commented, raising an eyebrow.

Kieran chuckled. “So...did you shoot any beaver today?”

“No, Kieran, there are no beavers in the mountains,” Chase sighed. The older man had been living here for three years, and he couldn’t seem to grasp that.

“Ah, if you say so,” Kieran waved away. “If you ever do catch one—”

“—I can bring the pelt to you, I know,” Chase finished. And again, he’d been offering that same proposal for three years.

“That’s the spirit! I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Be seeing you.”

Chase headed onward. As the ground started to level out, the buildings became sturdier, with more made of stone bricks, and grew closer together. The streets weren’t paved, but they were cleared, dusty paths well-trod. A few people were out, though not as many as there would have been earlier in the day. Mostly small kids running around and a few people taking turns getting water at the well in the center of the town. Chase waved at them, and they nodded back. One of them, Terrance the tailor, called out “How’re you doing?” and Chase answered, “Doing fine!”

Shortly after passing by the well, he came across the tallest building in town, and was once again stopped by someone calling his name. “Mister Chase!”

He stopped and turned to face the building: the temple. The couple that ran it were standing outside the doorway. One of them, Mother Aoife, was waving at him. “Hello, Mother. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, well, can I ask you a question?” Mother Aoife said. She gestured at the entrance. “Do you think we’d have room for another holy symbol up there?”

“Uh...” Chase took a step back. The doorway to the temple had two symbols on either side of it, showing that members of either faith could practice inside. To the left was a blue candle, almost as long as a person’s arm, burning and dripping wax. To the right were two interlocking circles the size of someone’s head: one gold-ish with small triangles around the edge, one silver-ish with a line down the center. “I mean...I guess you could put one above the door.”

“No, we can’t do that!” Mother Aoife said. “That would imply that one faith is higher than the others.”

“Right. Then, I’m guessing it would be the same if you put a symbol in the space beneath one of the other two?”

“Exactly.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” Pastor Cait frowned. She was the other leader at the temple, and was Mother Aoife’s wife. They’d actually held two ceremonies, one for each of their respective faiths. That day had been one of the most active days Hilltown had seen in the past ten years. “Besides, nobody in town follows the Forger.”

“But it is becoming popular with those down in the flatlands of Glasúil,” Mother Aoife insisted. “What if someone comes to visit and spread the faith?”

“Well, neither of us even know anything about the Forge, anyway,” Pastor Cait pointed out.

“We could always find someone.”

“That runs into the problem of nobody in town following the Forger.”

“Um...is that all you wanted me for?” Chase asked awkwardly.

“Oh no, I just thought I’d ask you first,” Mother Aoife said. “Stacia stopped by. She said to tell you that she was leaving early and would be home when you were done hunting.”

“Really? That’s strange.” Stacia usually worked all day, and with the fall harvest coming up, she’d probably be out on the farms from sunrise to sunset. “Why?”

“She said something about Quentin,” Mother Aoife said, frowning as she tried to remember. “I think he might’ve been getting sick? There was something wrong.”

Chase felt his heart drop, leaving his chest cold. “Why didn’t you start with that?!”

“Well, I—” Mother Aoife’s explanation was wasted. Chase was already running.

It wasn’t too far from here. He sprinted down the street, not bothering to look at any of the people he passed by, heading for the other edge of town. The buildings started to spread out again, small patches of vegetable gardens dotting the rows of low stone houses. He kept running until he reached his own, recognizing the garden of radishes outside and the rough chalk drawings on the stones outside, drawn by children. Without waiting, he threw open the wooden door and rushed inside.

“Dad?” Amabel, his daughter, was sitting on the edge of the rough wooden table, carefully trying to  tie the end of a string into a loop.

“Hi, Amy. Where’s your mother and brother?” Chase asked.

“Bedroom,” Amabel said, pointing at the doorway, blocked off by a hanging length of cloth.

“Thanks.” Chase ruffled her red hair as he walked past, not wasting any time and ducking underneath the cloth. “What happened? Is it bad?!”

Stacia looked up, clearly surprised. “Chase? What do you mean what happened?”

“Mother Aoife, down at the temple, she said that you said something happened with Quentin a-and that you were leaving early because of it,” Chase hurried through the explanation. “Is everything okay?!”

“Did she...well I guess it would sound bad if that’s all she said,” Stacia muttered. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

“Hi Dad!” Quentin was lying in the big double-bed that Chase and Stacia usually shared, propped up against the wooden frame. Their thick winter quilt was wrapped around him, his little face and dark curls being the only thing to poke out of the patchwork cloth.

“He fell in the water trough for Rainer’s sheep when I looked away,” Stacia explained, sighing. “Got pretty wet.”

“There was a goat staring at me!” Quentin said. He didn’t seem any worse for wear.

“It’ll probably be fine, but considering his...constitution, I-I thought it’d be best if I took the rest of the day off to keep an eye on him.” Stacia pulled the blanket up over Quentin’s head, much to his delight.

All the tension immediately drained from Chase’s body. He stumbled against the wall, losing his balance in the flood of relief. “Oh thank the elders,” he breathed.

Stacia stood up. She walked over to the bedroom window—the only one in their cottage to have glass—and made sure it was firmly closed. Then she turned to face Chase. “Did you...did you get back to town early and decide to check on us?”

“No, I just got back, I ran all the way here,” Chase said, catching his breath for the first time.

“Oh.” Stacia glanced at the arrows in his quiver, then at the three squirrels he had slung over his back. “Sorry, I guess I just thought, since you didn’t seem to find that much—”

“It’s fall, Stacy, animals are starting to hibernate,” Chase said, rubbing his eyes.

“Right. I always forget that.” Stacia nodded.

“How are things going at the farm?”

“Alright. Busy. You know, Jane told me that down in the flatlands, where it’s warmer, they grow potatoes through the winter. Which makes sense, but it’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Yea, pretty strange.” Chase stood up straight. “Well, I’m going to go take care of these squirrels.”

“Oh!” Stacia’s eyes widened. “Wait, before you do, do you remember that you’re going to start teaching Amabel shooting on Hunt’s Day?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Chase assured her. “I already have a great spot marked out.”

Stacia let out a breath. “Good. With everything today, I almost forgot until now.”

“Well, clearly Amabel didn’t forget. I saw her trying to make a bow string in the main room.” Chase smiled. “It looked pretty good, for her first time doing it on her own.”

“Wonderful.” Stacia turned back to Quentin, who was picking at the seams of the quilt. “Now go take care of those squirrels. Are you going to make dinner or should I?”

“Uh. You seem busy, I’ll do it,” Chase offered. “Right after the squirrels.”

It was well into the night by the time everyone was settled down. Quentin was fine, he hadn’t caught a cold, which was a huge relief. He’d been born a bit weaker than other children, and didn’t have as much energy as them. He often fell ill, and it was always a worry to Chase and Stacia. Amabel was heartier, but she was a quiet child. She often wandered about on her own, and was very familiar with the layout of Hilltown and the potato farms on the edge of the village, where many people worked, including Stacia. At ten years old, it was about time for her to start taking up more serious chores, and she’d asked Chase to take her hunting more than once. Of course, she had to learn to shoot first, and luckily for her, he was ready to teach her soon.

They had mutton for dinner, which they’d traded for with Rainer. Chase had managed to shoot down a bird last week, and the farmer had gladly traded a sheep for that. Now they were all sitting, taking the time to rest. Stacia was sitting in the rocking chair, patching up a hole in one of her tunics, while Amabel and Quentin were sitting by the stone fireplace, both of them now under the winter quilt.

“Don’t get too close, kids,” Chase called from his position near the window, where he was drawing their curtains closed. “A spark could fly and catch that fabric on fire.”

“It’s fine,” Amabel said, pulling the blanket closer and wrapping it around her and Quentin’s legs. “Dad, we need new curtains, those are old.”

“I know, Amy,” Chase muttered, glancing at the threadbare fabric. “But we can’t get any right now, so we’re keeping these until they fall apart.”

“Hmm.” Amabel hummed. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can we have a story?”

At that suggestion, Quentin perked up. “A story! Yes!”

Chase’s eyes lit up. “Oh, well, I guess we could have one.”

Stacia looked up. “It’s late. And you need your sleep, Quentin, just in case.”

“It’ll be a short one, then,” Chase said. He walked over and sat down in one of the three rickety wooden chairs by the table. The kids spun around so their backs were to the fireplace and scooted a bit closer, though not out of range for the heat of the fire. “Where do you want your story to be from tonight? Down in the flatlands? Maybe along the coast or in the ocean? Or even in Suilthair, where the king lives?”

“What about...here?” Amabel suggested. “In the mountains?”

“Hmm...” Chase stroked his chin, fingers running along his beard hair. “You know what? I think I could work with that.”

Quentin cheered. Amabel stayed quiet, but she leaned forward, ready to hear. Stacia sighed quietly, continuing to patch, but occasionally glanced upwards, showing she was listening as well.

“Do you know what our mountain range is called in the flatlands? It’s just home to us, but to them, we live in the Dragon’s Teeth.” Chase paused for Quentin to gasp. “It’s called that for two reasons. One, because of how high and pointy they are, looking a bit like teeth. Two, because years and years ago, before people moved up into the mountains, dragons lived here.”

“What?!” Quentin whispered. “Big dragons?! Like in the warrior story?”

“Even bigger! Because up in the mountains they had a ton of space to grow into. They lived in caves, and each dragon had its own mountain.” Chase smiled. “Of course, there aren’t any dragons anymore. At least, not in our kingdom. Who knows? Maybe there are more across the seas. But dragons were very magical, and a whole bunch of other magical creatures gathered around the spaces where they used to live, sucking up all the leftover magic.”

“Do wizards get their magic from dragons?” Amabel asked.

Chase shrugged. “I don’t know. Our family’s not that magical, so I never learned that. Maybe you could find that out one day.”

Amabel nodded, her little eyes determined to answer this question someday.

“But even though there aren’t any dragons anymore, there are a lot of other creatures. You know what I always say to do if something bad happens in town?”

“Run to the forest,” the kids said in unison.

“Exactly.” Chase nodded. “Mom and I will come find you. And if nothing’s happened by the next sunset,  you come back to town on your own.” That last part was added at Stacia’s request, since she was concerned about food and woodland animals. “You know all the rules about avoiding wolves and bears, but...there are magical things in the forest. So I have three more rules for you: if a deer has golden antlers, don’t bother it. If you see a horse out on its own, don’t touch it. And if you hear a woman crying, don’t go after it.”

Quentin nodded, but Amabel tilted her head to the side. “Why? And that last one, what if it’s Mom?”

“Well, you could recognize Mom’s voice,” Chase said. “I mean if it sounds like a strange woman. Because that might not be a woman at all. That could be a banshee. They won’t mean you any harm on their own, but if they see you, they’ll try to tell you about coming tragedies. Sounds like a good warning, right? Except that hearing this warning makes the tragedy more likely to happen. So you should stay away. One time, while I was out hunting about, um...ten years ago, before you were born. I was out with Micheal down the bend, we heard someone crying. I decided to walk away, but Micheal chased after it, and when he came back he said he found a banshee. And the next morning, very suddenly, his mother died.”

“Oh no,” Quentin breathed. “What about the other two?”

“A deer with golden antlers probably isn’t a deer at all. It could be the Elder Horned One in disguise. If you disturb him, you could find yourself whisked away to join his hunters. And a horse out on its own definitely isn’t a horse at all. It’s actually a kelpie. And if you touch a kelpie, you’ll get stuck to it. It’ll run into the nearest water and drag you under, and you won’t be able to let go.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough for the night,” Stacia said, standing up. “Amabel, Quentin, you’re all washed up?”

“Yes, Mom,” they said in unison. 

“Good. Off to bed with you.” Stacia hurried the kids over to the corner, where the small bed the two of them shared was tucked against the wall. “We’ll be seeing you in the morning,” she said, pulling back the blankets and tucking them in once the kids were under.

Chase wandered over. “Good night, Quen. Good night, Amy.” He gave them each a kiss on the forehead.

“Good night Dad,” Amabel said. Quentin was already yawning, face buried in the pillow. “Good night Mom.”

“Good night,” Stacia said, giving her and Quentin a kiss as well.

With that, the two adults retreated to the separate bedroom, quickly getting ready for bed. “You ended that story abruptly,” Chase commented.

“Well you did say they were going to get drowned by a kelpie,” Stacia pointed out.

“No, I said that they wouldn’t be if they didn’t touch it. It was a cautionary tale.”

“Still, not the best to hear at night.” Stacia ran a comb through her hair. “And also, I don’t think we should tell them to go into the forest anymore. Not without an adult there.”

“Really?” Chase frowned. “Why?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, come on, Stacy. I know it is, but you can’t tell me you didn’t run around the forest when you were their age. I know I did, and I walked out. Michael did. Terrance did. Wendy and Emilia did.”

“Things are different now,” Stacia said slowly. She shifted uneasily on her feet, then glanced out the window, as if making sure nobody was outside. “Look, you know Rose, Aodhan’s wife?”

“No, but I definitely know Aodhan, he runs the potato farms.”

“Well, Rose is married to him. The past week, she’s been working with us for the harvest, and...she says there are...new things in the forest.”

Chase paused. He’d been about to blow out the candle in the sconce by the door, but something about the way Stacia said that made him pause. “Like...what?”

“Townsfolk have been seeing the figures of...people,” Stacia whispered. “But not your regular, everyday people. These ones carry weapons, a-and they wear...masks. Masks shaped like animal faces. They move quickly and silently, and some think that they’re spirits of some kind.”

“I’ve...never heard of spirits wearing animal masks,” Chase said in a low voice.

“Neither have I. But here’s the thing: Rose doesn’t believe those rumors.” Stacia paused. “Did you know there’s trouble down in the flatlands? People are...unhappy. With how the king is running things.”

“What? That’s strange,” Chase muttered. “I remember hearing that he’s the best king Glasúil ever had.” Though now that he was thinking about it, it had been a while since he’d heard something like that.

“Well, it’s trouble either way to have people thinking that about a king,” Stacia said firmly. “And Rose thinks that these spirits in masks are just people running around the forest, hiding out, being rebels. And that’s dangerous, Chase. Animals and magic behave by certain rules you can expect, but people...you just don’t know with them.”

“I guess you’re right,” Chase muttered. He paused, then blew out the candle and headed back towards bed. “Well, I haven’t seen any of these masked spirits. And I’m in the forest every day. So it’s probably nothing to worry about yet.”

“That forest is big, Chase,” Stacia said, clearly worried despite his reassurance. “You’ve probably only explored a tiny part of it, and the same goes for anyone else in town.”

That was true. Even in his farthest hunting trips, he’d only gone far enough to find his way back to Hilltown relatively quickly. “I still say it’ll be fine,” he reiterated. “I don’t see why any rebels would bother us, even if they were out there.” He climbed into bed. “If I see something weird when I’m out tomorrow, I’ll reconsider it. Besides, it’s not good to think about things like this before bed, as you pointed out to the kids.”

Stacia sighed, and got into bed as well, pulling the blankets up. “I just...don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Chase nodded. “I don’t either,” he agreed softly. Then he took a deep breath. “Good night, Stacy.”

“Good night, Chase.” Stacia leaned over and blew out the candle on the bedside table, leaving the room dark except for the moonlight coming through the window. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning went the same as every other morning. The family had breakfast, either Stacia or Chase went out to manage the garden while the other took care of the kids—today it was Chase for the former and Stacia for the latter, though they switched every other day—then Stacia got ready to go to the farms and Chase got ready to go hunting. As always, the kids went with Stacia, wandering around within eyesight and earshot of her while she worked. Though Chase could tell Amabel was eager to start going into the more dangerous forest with her dad, judging by the way she kept looking at her miniature bow, still unstrung. He ruffled her hair and reminded her that Hunt’s Day was just two days away, then headed off, waving goodbye to Stacia and the kids.

Passing through town was the same as ever as well. Some people were lined up at the well, as they always seemed to be. It looked as though the temple was unchanged, so clearly Mother Aoife and Pastor Cait had resolved their issue. Kieran waved goodbye as Chase walked past, and reminded him to look for beavers to shoot. 

And from there...the day was largely uneventful. Which was not good. Hunting was always a lot of waiting and wandering and being quiet, occasionally interrupted by action as you aimed and shot at an animal. But in the fall like this, that last bit of action was becoming rarer. And it didn’t help that it was really starting to get cold. Chase could see his breath in the air in front of him, and he kept pulling his felt hat down over his head. It was old, and almost nobody else in town had one like it, but he kept it because it had a handy brim for blocking the sun. It was also good for cold days like these, when he hadn’t grabbed his jacket because he mistakenly believed it would be as warm today as it was yesterday.

The sun passed overhead. Chase stopped around midday to have a lunch of bread and jerky, then moved on. He stopped by his usual snares, but found that nothing had stumbled into them. Not even a few squirrels like the day before. Growing frustrated, and more than a little desperate, he wandered farther into the forest, but still found nothing. This was bad. Sure, they had a stockpile of preserved meat and jerky from his hunts during the summer, but that would run out eventually. And what if Quentin got sick, and needed something more hearty than dried, stringy meat? What would they do then?

It was starting to get late when he saw it. Just a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Chase stiffened, and slowly turned. There, right in between two trees, fully in view of him...was a deer. Its coat was dark brown, almost black, and it was grazing peacefully, not paying him the least bit of attention. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen a deer. That was a bit unusual, really. But it didn’t matter anymore. There was one here now. Slowly, he drew his bow.

The deer raised its head and started to walk away. Carefully, Chase followed it. He stepped carefully, making sure there were no twigs or crunchy fallen leaves before putting his foot down. After a while, the deer stopped again, grazing for a bit. Chase made sure he was in a good position, then raised his bow and reached towards the quiver on his hip. Then the deer started walking away again.

Chase followed it, for longer than he probably should have. The shadows grew more slanted, then started to take over, but he kept following the deer. Every time he got into a good position to shoot and started to grab an arrow, it moved on. After a while, it felt like a game. A game of...chase. He almost laughed when the thought occurred to him, but stopped just in time to catch the sound.

It was well into dusk when the deer wandered into a small circular clearing. Chase stopped, still hidden by the trees, and gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering. Once the sun went behind the mountains in autumn, the temperature dropped rapidly. But it wouldn’t be long now. He had to get this deer. They needed it. And now it was just standing there, ears twitching. Chase raised the bow again, and this time when he reached for an arrow, he pulled it out and slowly nocked it, steadying his stance to take aim.

But then...no, something was different. The deer’s antlers...had they gotten bigger? More...curvy? Chase paused, puzzled. Then he took a closer look.

The antlers were...glinting. He was sure they were ordinary bone before, but now they looked almost...golden.

Gasping, Chase instantly let go of his bow and arrow. They landed in the undergrowth with soft thumps.

The deer’s ears stopped twitching. But instead of running away, it turned around. And it looked at him. And there was something different about its dark, dark eyes. Different from other deer eyes, from other animal eyes, that Chase had seen before.

He slowly raised his hands. “I—I didn’t kn—”

The deer looked away from him, turnin to the side, staring off into the distance. Then it broke into a run in the opposite direction, hooves making no sound on the forest floor.

For a long, long while, Chase just stood there, shivering, breath pluming in the air. Had that...really happened? Or had he just imagined it because he’d been out in the cold for so long? After some time, he bent over and picked up his bow and the arrow he’d dropped, putting them away. Well, it was also dark. He could’ve been just...seeing things in the moonlight. And speaking of moonlight, he should really be heading home by now. He was late. Now...which way was it?

He’d wandered a long way following that deer. It was dark and he wasn’t as familiar with this part of the forest as he was with areas closer to home. So by the time he found his way back, it was definitely night, no longer twilight. Stacia and the kids must be so worried. Chase picked up the pace.

Wait...if it was night, then why was there an orange glow in the distance? It was well past sunset. Chase squinted, and in a split second, he realized a few things: First, the glow was coming from the direction of Hilltown. Second, even if it was sunset, the forest was west of town, and therefore the town wouldn’t be between him and the sunset. Third, he was getting closer to the glow. Closer in a way that just didn’t happen with a setting sun. His heart froze. And he burst into a flat run, easily clearing the edge of the forest.

The village was on fire.

Chase just stood and gaped for a moment, feeling the heat from here. The wooden buildings that ran up the sloping ground were all ablaze. He could see dark shapes in the streets, and the figures of people running around, with—horses? A lot of horses. There were only about four in the whole town, and this was definitely more than that.

Snapping out of the daze, he ran, but in his haste, lost footing on the uneven ground and fell, tumbling head over heels for a bit before he managed to stop himself. “Ow...” he groaned, lifting himself up and coming face to face with the flames. Quickly, he threw himself backwards, scrambling to a safe distance.

Now that he was closer, he could definitely make out what was happening. The dark shapes on the ground between the burning buildings...were bodies. He couldn’t recognize anyone, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to look for any longer than necessary. And there were strangers wandering around. Some on foot, some on horses, but all wearing chain mail armor underneath dark tunics. Chase stared at them, wide-eyed. The strangers were shouting. To each other? To their horses? To anyone left? It was hard to tell.

But they hadn’t noticed Chase. Quickly getting to his feet, he started running around the edge of town. He had to get home! At this time of night, Stacia would be there, Quentin and Amabel would be there—were they okay?! They had to be okay! He didn’t know what he would do if—He wouldn’t forgive himself if he was away and missed being able to help them.

Going around town was a lot slower than going through it, but everything—everything—was on fire. Even the stone buildings! How was that possible?! If the stone buildings were on fire, their cottage could—he pushed himself to run faster.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore. He had to run into the town to get home. But the smoke—even from here, his eyes were watering. So he took his hat off and pressed it to his face, filtering it before he could breathe it in. And he plunged into the raging flames. Even staying in the center of the path, the heat was almost unbearable. But Stacia—Quentin, Amabel—

The cottage. Their home. It was also on fire. The old curtains were ash, the vegetable garden was a raging inferno. “Stacia!” Chase shouted. “Stacy! Quentin! Amabel! Stacy! Quen! Amy! Where are you?!”

Voices. Chase turned and saw some of those strangers nearby, one on a horse. And...he hadn’t noticed this before, but there was a symbol on the back of their dark tunics. A shield, black and blue striped, with a green circle in the center, a black dot in the center of that. The symbol was—it was—the symbol for their kingdom, the kingdom of Glasúil. Chase had never seen it in person, but everyone grew up learning of that insignia. And they also learned that, while local militia may wear a simplified green ring on their clothes, only soldiers working directly for the royal family were allowed to wear the full crest.

Chase recalled this fact dimly, but it didn’t really register. One of the strangers—the soldiers—started to turn around. And gasping, coughing a bit, Chase turned and ran right back out of town, never stopping until he was well clear of the last few houses, out onto the potato fields. In the distance, he saw the house of Aodhan and Rose, the farm owners. It was also on fire.

What was he supposed to do now?! Stacia, and the kids...were they...? No, no they couldn’t be.

The forest.

He’d told the kids to run into the forest if there was ever any danger in town. And sure, Stacia was concerned about rebels in the woods and those strange masked figures, but in the face of this? Maybe she would do the same. Well...it was all he could think of. The only straw he could grasp. Stumbling, Chase turned around and ran back the way he came.

The trees enveloped him in a strange sense of calm, a world removed from the blazing horrors of the burning town. He stumbled for a moment, tripping over some brush, then ran faster. “Stacia! Quentin! Amabel!” he yelled. Even with the distant light from the flaming ruins of the village, the trees above blocked out most of the light, leaving him in shadows. His eyes darted about for any movement. “Where are you?! Can you hear me?”

Abandoning all his hunter’s instincts telling him to stay quiet, he ran through the woods, staggering over brush and rocks that he couldn’t see in the darkness. “Can you hear me?! Answer me! Stacy! Quen! Amy!” Chase’s cries pierced through the silence. There was no sign of them. Maybe they’d gone farther. Thinking that, he plunged deeper into the trees.

Things quickly became unfamiliar. Whether it was because of the distance or because of the darkness, he couldn’t say. But the strangeness only spurred him on. What if his family was lost out here? Alone in the woods? He’d taught the kids something about foraging for food, but not enough, not in this situation. And Stacia was a farmer, not a hunter or a forester. He had to find them. He had to—

Chase noticed the lack of ground beneath his foot a split second after stepping forward. Then he fell. Luckily, it wasn’t off a cliff, but he did land with a loud splash! as he fell into some shallow water. Pebbles and rocks bit into this arms as he extended them out to brace for impact. He sat up, spluttering, now completely soaked. What was this, a stream? A pond? He couldn’t quite see in the dark, but he did know one thing: there were no streams or ponds near the town, and certainly not in the parts of the forest he knew.

Securing his hat, he stood up. His bow and quiver knocked against his side, and he then realized that the fall had caused most of his arrows to fall out. Well...that wouldn’t be good in the future. But he couldn’t see where they’d fallen into the water, and there was no time. He pressed onward.

The trees were close together, heavy branches blocking out the sun. Chase kept his arms out in front of him, to make sure he didn’t run into a trunk. If he couldn’t even see the trees, he definitely wouldn’t be able to see a person. And they wouldn’t be able to see him. “Stacia! Kids! A-are you out h-here?” He gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering. It was cold before, and now it was later, and he was wet, making it positively freezing. “Stacy! K-kids! Are you here?!” But he kept going.

The rush of emotion was starting to fade. He was getting tired. Maybe if he took a rest...no! No, what could be happening to them while he rested?! And besides, he’d be easy prey for any predators out here if he slept. He staggered forward. The forest was practically pitch black, but he kept shouting, his voice growing hoarse, and hoping to hear a reply. 

The underbrush must be thicker here, because he kept tripping up. He fell down twice, but pulled himself to his feet and went onward. His hands were shaking...shivering. “S...Sta-asha. Quen...Quentnn…Ammbel,” he mumbled. It was hard to keep his eyes open. Where was he? Shouldn’t he...shouldn’t he have found some town by now? No, the forest went on for...for acres. He knew this. How could he forget...“Plea...pl’se...say y’r here...I...wher...?”

He couldn’t...couldn’t stop now. He needed to find them. Couldn’t...leave them. On their own. He kept pressing onward. It was getting so hard...he had to use the trees for support sometimes. Stop to take a break. But not to give up. “Can’...give up...St-stace...Quen...Am...ple-please...”

And once again, he stepped somewhere without support. But now he couldn’t even register it. He just knew he was falling, rolling down, down a hill. Coming to a stop when he hit...something. A tree? Those felt like...roots, beneath him. His arm moved a bit, trying to grab something to pull himself up. Fingers drifted across a bark-covered surface, but couldn’t...couldn’t grab. So his arm fell back down. Maybe...he should rest for just a few minutes.

But after just a few seconds of staying still, he heard a strange rustling sound. Raising his head weakly, he saw...a strange sight indeed. People. No, not quite people. Human bodies, dressed in dark clothes...but with white-feathered bird faces where heads should be. Four or five of them...Wait. No, not bird heads. Bird masks. Masks made out of some sort of white material. Hadn’t...hadn’t he heard something about masks recently?

The masked figures drew closer. Chase stared up at them. He was so...so tired. He wouldn’t be able to run even if the thought had managed to...to get through. 

One of them knelt down next to him, pulling off a glove. They pressed a pair of fingers to his neck, and he shivered. He wasn’t cold anymore. Or he was, but this bird person’s hands were colder.

They stood up again, and turned to the others. He heard the sound of voices, but his head couldn’t process the words. What were they...were they hear to...help? Or...?

He was too tired to think about it. He let his head fall back to the forest floor.

The last thing Chase felt before losing consciousness was the sudden lift of someone picking him up.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

the knight who pierced the king's heart

knight au ➼ chapter 14

warnings ➼ none

synopsis ➼ Things start to go back to normal, but schemes are growing in the shadows.

ao3 link (18+ content) ➼ here

masterlist ➼ here

author's note ➼ This is sort of a short chapter, I apologize! I haven't updated in forever but I want to get back into it! Thank you for sticking around.

By the time the next day dawned, it seemed as if everything had gone according to plan. Augustus had gotten to meet “Elizabeth Payne,” and Julius had successfully hidden her true identity. The nobles at the ball were none the wiser, relieving the burden that had been hanging over the heads of everyone involved.

Well, almost.

“Would you stop moping around? You have a long day ahead of you, you know.”

“Hmm?” Julius blinked, having been staring into the black depths of his morning coffee, not paying attention to Marx as the advisor puttered around the office. “I’m not moping, I’m just… tired.”

“You are moping. I know you too well,” Marx corrected, leafing through some parchment, organizing it for the day. “Lisa’s been gone barely half an hour, you can’t let yourself fall into disrepair everytime you’re apart.”

Julius sighed, shaking his head a little. “No, that’s not it… I mean-” He shifted in his chair, his brow furrowing a bit in annoyance. “I wish she could have stayed longer this morning. Breakfast was all planned out, with all her favorites, but she said she had to go back to her station before anyone got suspicious.”

“Well, Isn’t that a good thing? Avoiding suspicion, I mean.”

“I suppose, but still…” Julius let his gaze drift to the window. The room was bright from the morning rays of sun, the aroma of his coffee permeating the air and giving it a cozy, warm atmosphere. Julius was most at home in his office, yet today he felt so lonely. “...I wish she could stay here all the time.”

“Impossible-” Julius’s attention was drawn back to Marx as he plopped more documents down into the growing pile on his desk. “She’s got her own life, her own goals. Plus, she’d just be in danger here.” Marx frowned at Julius, feeling concern for his superior. “I know you won’t listen… but I still feel like this is a bad idea. After meeting her, I can tell that she’s a very nice girl, and you two get on very well, but one wrong move-”

“I know. Of course I know all that.” Julius’s voice cut Marx off. He was tired of having this conversation, but more than that…

I know he’s right.

Marx gulped, then let out a sigh. “Like I said… I know you won’t listen. But you’re the King- I’ll trust your judgement.”

With that, he turned and left the room in a hurry, sensing that Julius needed some alone time to sort through everything.

Julius grimaced at the sight of the paper pile, knowing a long day was ahead of him. But at the very least, it would distract him from the stress eating away at his stomach. Taking a deep breath, Julius pulled the pile towards himself, grabbing his quill and ink.

I know he’s right… not only do I pose a danger to her, but I’ll stand in the way of her own aspirations. I don’t want to do either of those things… but there must be a happy medium, right?

All he had to do was find it. In the meantime, things could stay as they were, and he would relish the bliss he felt when she was at his side.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Lisa froze in place, halfway up the stairs to her room. She had gotten back to the Crimson Lion barracks later in the morning than she planned. Not only had Julius held her up as she was leaving the castle, but the town was bustling with activity, the streets practically choked with pedestrians. Damn it! I should have left before daybreak- she thought, slowly turning around to look at the bottom of the stairs. “I… was just coming back from a walk?”

Fuegoleon glared up at her, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t pretend. I came to check on you last night, apparently your day off turned into a night out.”

Lisa gulped, her mind spinning. How do I talk myself out of this!? “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I promise! I … I just had business to attend to.”

Getting an idea, she scratched her neck, purposely avoiding his gaze in the most suspicious way possible. The best way to trick someone is to tell the truth, I suppose… “Y-You see- um- I-" With little effort, a blush appeared on her cheeks. "Er- well, It’s embarrassing, but-”

Fuegoleon blinked, slow to connect the dots, but then turned bright red the moment her words registered. “OH! Do not continue, I don’t need to know.” He sighed and started to turn away, clearly not wanting to press the issue any farther. Lisa glanced back down at him to see him look up one last time. “Er- but next time, leave a note or something? I was worried sick when I checked on you last night.” He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “You haven’t been feeling well lately, after all.”

“I’m feeling fine now.” She gave him a quick smile. “Seriously. I’ve had plenty of time to heal, so keeping me on leave any longer is just giving me time to be… idle.”

“...Indeed.” Fuegoleon couldn’t help but smile back. “Fine, you better get down to the mess hall quickly! If you want to be put to work again, I’ll put you to work.”

“Yessir!” Lisa grinned genuinely, her heart leaping as she turned to run back to her room. Yess! Finally! She hadn’t been doing proper work ever since her injury during the jousting tournament, a period of inactivity that had only been extended by the scuffle when she rescued Julius. But now, at least she would have something to focus on, something to strive for.

I can continue the path that was interrupted… And I feel like my goals are closer than they’ve ever been!

Darkness fell that night, and the city went quiet. At least, as quiet as it ever could. The closer you got to the center of the kingdom, the less it slept.

Sleep… it’s been so long since I was able to rest.

A man sat by his window, high up in a secluded inn. He could see most of the street from up here, dark and empty. Yet he could never feel that he was totally alone, not after he had failed so spectacularly.

Everything was supposed to end… I was supposed to be able to sleep happily tonight.

Movement in the corner of an alley caused him to draw back behind the edge of the curtain, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. To his relief, two drunkards were the ones staggering into the street, laughing and holding onto each other. He let out a soft breath, still very much on edge.

Damn it… is this just how my life is going to be now?

The door suddenly opened, and he whirled around. In an instant, his sword was drawn, pointed towards the intruder-

“Hey, that’s no way to greet one of your few remaining allies, is it, Patri?”

Rhya held his hands up in mock surrender, a lazy, teasing grin on his face. Patri sighed, lowering his weapon. “Maybe knock next time, creep,” he spat, turning away to look back out the window. The drunkards were gone. “Any new intell?”

“Oh? No hello or good to see you?” Rhya chuckled before sitting down in a chair, his feet swinging up to rest on the coffee table. “No sign of any Diamond spies in town looking for you. Have they sent a follow up to that threat yet?”

“No.” Patri shook his head. “They just demanded that I return and face punishment, or they’d send someone to get me. God-” In a momentary burst of anger, he made a fist and slammed it into the window frame, his frustration reaching a fever pitch. “-If only I had stayed there to see the job through myself-”

“You probably wouldn’t be here now,” Rhya cut in. “You heard the report, not a single one of their men was left alive. A whole squadron must have caught up to Julius.”

“Maybe… maybe I’d be better off that way. Now I have to find a way to make it up to them, or I’ll be living my whole life in fear.”

“Maybe we could leave the kingdom?” Rhya suggested. “Heart seems nice.”

“They’re allies of Clover, though.” Patri shook his head. “And so is Spade… although, from what I heard, not for long. But that would be a long shot, we’d never make it over the mountains.”

“You still have a chance to bring them Julius’s head,” Rhya reminded him. “Sure, he’s going to be under even stricter guard now, but still… also, there was that other request. Morris said he would vouch for you if you fulfilled it.”

“That’s an even worse idea. His demand was impossible… there are thousands of people in this kingdom, even with that very specific description, we’d never be able to find his target. Plus, I’d rather not look at Morris ever again.”

Patri’s eyes were fixed on his own mismatched ones in the reflection on the mirror.

“Fine.” Rhya sighed, leaning back in his chair, letting his eyes close. “Oh, there’s one other thing. It’s from him.”

Patri raised an eyebrow before turning back around. “Finally, he says something? He could have been a bit quicker.”

“He says, King Julius has called a meeting to discuss a plan to take out the Eye of the Midnight Sun threat. I will relay any important information to you as soon as it is over.”

Patri’s eyes widened a bit. I thought he would cut off all contact with me after the failure… there’s nothing really in it for him, after all. But… friendship is a powerful bond.

His mouth twitched, almost into a smirk.

“I see… in that case, tomorrow, we’ll rally our remaining forces and find a proper base. Then… we’ll wait. We’ll wait, then formulate our own plan to thwart theirs.”

Rhya smiled, glad to see hope glimmering in Patri’s eyes once more.

“We’ll throw this whole kingdom into chaos… and take our revenge at long last.”

next time ➼ Julius formulates a plan to take out the traitors once and for all. Meanwhile, Lisa struggles to get back into the action, doubting her path for the first time in her life.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

a sickly satisfaction (ch.6)

pairing: jason dean/reader

summary: who knew so much destruction could be caused by two angsty high schoolers. 

warnings: murder </3, discussion of suicide, just general fucked up-ness

notes: ohoho here we go.

taglist: @stuckysdaughter @hybrid-huntress

           Breaking into Heather’s house was much easier than either of them originally anticipated, most likely due to the fact that Heather left the back door unlocked. They managed to slink into the kitchen with ease, their silent footsteps keeping the mischievous rhythm of the scene. The pair were standing in the center of the kitchen, and suddenly the feeling in the air changed. Their intent had shifted to something different, something sinister. 

          It was Y/n that first noticed the liquid drain cleaner on the counter, the bright blue bottle drawing her eyes away from the dark hue of Jason’s outfit. The thought crossed her mind, but she shook it away. They couldn’t kill Heather, that would be evil. When Jason’s eyes landed on the bottle, his own reaction only solidified the thought that she tried so hard to push down. 

          Slowly, he glided across the hardwood floor to the cabinet, moving quickly and quietly as he filled a mug with the drain cleaner. It smelled of bleach, Y/n’s nose wrinkling at the sensation. It’ll probably burn as it goes down, she thought. She could almost feel the fire in her throat while looking into the blue substance. 

          “Jason?” Her voice sounded foreign in her own ears. Y/n felt like she was going to be sick. “Are we… is this a good idea?”

          “Of course it is,” He says surely. “Heather is cruel and inhumane. Remember, this is a public service.” He released her hands he’d been grasping and gripped the mug. 

          The two of them made their way upstairs and into Heather’s bathroom. They placed the mug or drain cleaner beside Heather’s bottle of fluorescent blue mouthwash. The two liquids were identical. Y/n and Jason then took residence in one of Heather’s three large closets and waited for her to wake up. 

          “How do you know this’ll work?” Jason asked timidly. “I mean, you aren’t supposed to swallow mouthwash,”

          “Heather isn’t the brightest,” Y/n whispered. “Kurt managed to convince her that the best hangover remedy was a shot of mouthwash. It’s complete nonsense, but she still does it. I put aspirin next to the mug, so Heather’ll probably think her parents left her a hangover charcuterie board,”

          “You’re brilliant,” JD breathes, but Y/n shakes her head.

          “Brilliant isn’t a word I’d use to describe what I am,” She sighs. 

          Heather stirs awake, sitting up for just a moment before sprinting to the bathroom. They can’t see her from the closet, but they can hear her retching and heaving. She gasps and moans from exhaustion and discomfort. Y/n winces. There’s a moment of silence before the sink is turned on, the sound of water pouring down the drain drowning out Heather’s noises of anguish. She’s brushing her teeth, and suddenly Jason’s hands grip Y/n shoulders comfortingly. The water turns off. Silence fills the room once again before the sound of ceramic clanking against granite slices through the air. For a moment, it’s peaceful. The tenseness disappears as Y/n focuses on Jason and how she’d never felt what she feels for him before. Of course, the peace is cut short by the sound of gagging. She’s retching again, but not because she’s hungover. She comes into view of the closet one again, a sickly blue staining around her lips. Heather gasps out the word “corn nuts” before she falls limply into a glass table, shattering it. 

          Neither of them move. They’re frozen in the closet, Y/n’s eyes locked on Jason’s as they wait for the punchline. She was going to get up, right? Heather was going to get up with a few cuts and bruises, right? She was going to be fine, right? Right? Slowly, JD pulls Y/n out of the closet.

          “Oh my god,” He breathes, running his hands through his hair. Jason’s breathing is heavy and sporadic, his eyes wide and stunned. “I can’t believe we-- oh my god,”

          “Jason, what do we do?” Y/n leans against Heather’s desk, her hands trembling softly. “We’re going to jail, aren’t we? Oh my god, Tommy will have to visit me at The Ohio State Penitentiary and get all the prison gossip through bulletproof glass,”

          “Y/n, we aren’t going to jail,” Jason assured, although it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than he was Y/n. “Just… here--” He rummaged through Heather’s desk drawer for a second before he pulled out a pad of pen and paper. “Do you think you could try to copy her handwriting? Make it look like a suicide?”

          “I’m about as good at forgery as you are, Jason, why don’t you do it?” 

          “You’ve got… feminine writing,” Jason stammered. Y/n cocked an eyebrow.

          “Feminine writing? Does the way I dot my I’s and cross my T’s seem feminine to you, Jason?” The stress of the situation is making the two of them very irritable.

          “Just do it!” Jason hisses, pulling on his hair hard enough to hurt. Y/n flinches and quickly grabs his wrists.

          “Hey, dude, relax, alright?” She attempts to soothe him. “You were right, we aren’t going to jail. I’ll try to fake this note and-- and we’ll be fine, okay?”

          By the time Y/n reaches Heather’s desk, she’s calmer. She pulls out Heather’s old notebook and inspects her writing for a moment. Her y’s, j’s, and g’s have low sweeping curves, the dots on her i’s far away from their counterparts. Her writing is smooth and fluid, the letters decently scrunched together. Slowly, Y/n begins writing on a loose sheet of cardstock.

          “‘Dear world, you might think what I’ve done is shocking, but believe it or not, I knew about fear and the endless pitfalls of loneliness.’” Y/n spoke clearly, pausing to think about what should come next.

          “‘In the end, suicide was a natural solution to the myriad of problems life has given me,” Jason chimes. “‘The world gripped me by my perfectly curled hair and dragged me down. It was as if I was wearing a concrete prom queen crown,” Y/n wasn’t sure Heather would use the world “myriad” but she didn’t care enough to change it.

          “‘People think because you’re beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun. No one would dare look in my eyes and see that on the inside, I was drowning. Everyday was filled with me fighting to reach the surface of the water, but there comes a time where you have to let yourself sink down into the depths. I die knowing that no one ever knew the real me.” Y/n carefully signed Heather’s signature before leaving the pen and paper on a neat pile in the center of Heather’s desk. In that moment, she couldn’t breathe, but Jason doesn’t give her time to catch her breath. She looks down at the note and glances at Heather’s corpse one last time before Jason grabs her hand and practically runs out of Heather’s house and into the backyard.

            As they jump the fence into the neighbor’s yard, the two of them struggle to ignore the feelings in their chest. They shared a sensation of intense anxiety, and a little spark of something odd, something that didn’t belong. Deep inside their rib cages lied a trace of sickly satisfaction, and neither of them decided to admit it.

[echo-three-one]

The strongest lead toward Shepherd that will lead them to Nero. (honestly I can't think of better summaries lately. I hope you're still enjoying THE ROAD SO FAR (CUE carry on my wayward son)

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : If I Remember Correctly

Chapter 22 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️ Look how far we've come!

Going Dark - Part 1

"Alex"

Safe House 110197, Brazil

Alex woke up to the smell of Samantha's shampoo. God, she smelled so beautiful. He thought as he shifted his position carefully, trying not to disturb his sleeping girl.

Samantha caught wind of his actions and turned back to him. 

"Good Morning." Alex greeted with the most wholesome and lovable smile he could ever conjure. He could see Samantha actually blush at his smile, meaning that his charm still worked toward her even after all those times.

"Good Morning… you-" She greeted back but Alex immediately met her lips with his, turning a simple morning greeting into a hot make out session. Samantha ran her hand across his arm down to his chest, pushing the tough muscle as her eyes slowly closed, enjoying the way Alex's mouth moved inside hers.

"I wish I could just sit out this mission and stay here with you…" he mused, tapping her nose and smiling.

"You go out there and fix the world, hero. I'll be here when you get back." She winked as Alex slowly got up and left the room, his eyes never leaving hers until he was out of sight.

Alex stepped out of the stairs to the view of Price complaining about the water. Roach was already shuffling to the kitchen to satisfy their Captain's needs. This gave Alex the chance to check on Maxine.

"How are you holding up, Maxine." He asked.

"What's wrong, lass?" Price inserted sipping his morning coffee.

"Hey Alex, Captain Price…" She greeted, her voice was shaky but she looked like she had the courage to respond.

"I had a strange dream last night… I believe it was one of my memories." She spoke softly. Price and Alex's face lit up.

"That's good news!" Alex cheered, shaking her shoulders and quickly withdrawing his hands as soon as it felt awkward.

"Good on ya, lass. Cheers to that!" He raised his mug and nodded.

"Captain Price." Another familiar voice interrupted behind them.

"I have intel on Shadow Company." Ghost announced, everyone fell silent and they immediately gathered around the command center. Soap and France followed as they walked down the stairs together.

"Three addresses in three separate London Apartments." he informed while typing furiously across the keyboard. The map had three yellow blinking dots, two of them were close to each other while one was far away.

"Intel says they're not sure which of these had a Shadow Company residing in it. They're most probably on leave and might be armed." Ghost added, showing three faces of men which were presumed targets for intel.

"Where'd you get these? They look like very classified information." Price asked, crossing his arms and looking at Ghost.

"Let's just say I know someone." he replies smugly.

"And why would we follow such a lead?" Jack added, making the situation very awkward for the rest of the team.

"Is this…" Soap tried to insert.

"Yes, Soap. It's interpol." he finished. The rest of the team looked at each other.

"They wanted to investigate more on the Shadow Company. But since they aren't authorized to act on it, all they do is gather information. Which is frustrating-" Ghost complained but got cut off by Price.

"They're asking for our help because we're rogue. No rules, no anything…" He stated the bitter tone in his voice was too clear.

"We can't just casually fly to London, right? Who's helping us?" Alex stated the larger problem at hand. If this lead is solid enough, they have to act on it.

"Nikolai could fly us in. I could pull a few favors from S.A.S. but they're going to have to be sneaky to let us land there. We can't forget the fact that we're fugitives. I mean, Shepherd only put Me, Alex, Soap, Ghost and Roach on his list." Price said.

"My dream of being wanted came true in the worst way possible." Soap cracked a joke to lighten up the mood. It obviously worked except for Jack, who always never gets the humor.

They continued briefing, planning the route that they would take saving the most time. Which weapons to use and other protocols to follow. 

~

"Saving the world once again, my hero?" Samantha leaned on him as he continuously flicked Soap's lighter.

"Stop calling me that. I'm no hero. I'm just trying to set things back the way they were." 

"Like what heroes do." Samantha chuckled sitting next to him and rested her head on his lap.

"My Dad probably misses me so much." She sighed, looking at Alex as he looked down on her, his fingers played with her hair.

"If we could find the perfect time, we could tell him you're safe. It's unfair how the whole world thinks we took you as a hostage." he complained.

"Well, when you think of it I really am a prisoner here." she mused as Alex's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then once his brain cells finally agreed, he smiled and laughed.

"Oh I get it." he reached for her hand and put it close in his heart. 

"You're trapped in here aren't you." they both laughed.

"That's so corny, right?" Samantha giggled.

"Yeah. It is." Alex replied as they continued to spend the rest of the few hours they had together before flying to the Majesty's domain.

LONDON

UNITED KINGDOM

Price wasn't able to land on the S.A.S. base, but they did assist the rogue team to land on an open area not too far from the base and Nikolai seemed to be fine with it. The team borrowed MacMillan's jeep and took the road less traveled to the city. 

Everyone looked alert and worried, this was a risky move but it was all they had to get to Shepherd, to get to Nero.

They drove as fast as they legally could, knowing that their faces wouldn't be recognized by anyone until Ghost distributed his extra skull masks, which allowed them to move freely across the streets of the nearest target location.

The first apartment room was located on the third floor, that meant they had to ascent two flights of stairs without raising suspicion. Ghost immediately worked his way to the basement and disabled the lights.

A quick flicker and the building's lights immediately shut off, making some of the tenants scream in surprise. It was time to move.

The team slowly crept the stairs, their steps were light enough that they could only hear faint creaking. Price led the line as they cleared the hallway all the way up to the third. 

Alex was behind Price as he saw the target room's door was slightly ajar. It's either they're lucky he forgot to lock it or they were too late. Proceeding with extreme caution, Price swung the door open and continued to scour the room for the guy. 

"Right door, clear." Price announced as everyone scattered around to look for intel. Jack searched the closets hoping that clues were left behind inside pockets. Roach looked for the drawers while Price and Alex looked for clues of possible escape. 

"Someone's going up to this floor." Soap whispered as he signaled the team to remain quiet. He was by the door on lookout for the team.

Complete silence. Alex could only hear his breathing and his heartbeat as the person walked past the hall, not minding the open room he just passed through.

They took a few more minutes of intel gathering until they ultimately decided to call it off. It was a dead lead.

"Two more houses." Ghost announced as the team silently regrouped by the car where Nikolai was waiting. The lights immediately returned as soon as they set foot on the vehicle.

"I sure hope we get something from the next house." Roach wished as they drove to the next location.

The second location almost had the same layout. They did the same plan but this time Alex and Soap switched roles. Guard duty was significantly harder when it's dark and Alex did his best to heighten his senses. 

Signs of struggle were heard from the inside and Alex assumed they finally identified one of the targets. He could hear the person's groans and struggles as well as his team working hard to constrain the person.

"Ghost. It looks like they got him." Alex reported as he could hear Ghost working on something. Then in just a flash, the lights turned back on along with a loud booming sound of Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up". Alex entered the room and looked at the poor guy being surrounded by his squad. He was trying to scream for help but Rick Astley begged to differ. 

"We're just here for one simple question…

WHERE. IS. SHEPHERD?" Price roared. The guy didn't easily give in. He just shook his head and continued to struggle free. Jack immediately pulled his hand and placed some pliers in between the hostage's fingers.

"Isn't that a little bit too harsh?" Soap whispered to Roach, who just shrugged.

"What's harsh is that they used an innocent daughter as bait." Jack slowly squeezed the pliers making the hostage scream. 

"AAAAAAAAAH." He squirmed making the rest of the team hold him tight. Alex had his eyes set on the door as neighbors started to complain about the booming music.

He squirmed enough that it activated something in his pocket, a smartphone whose light shone through the fabric of his pants. Then in a flash, a small scale EMP blast rendered the whole building quiet. All electrical devices were disabled and Alex and the team found themselves kneeling as the loud ringing triggered their ears.

None of them were too quick to react as their hostage looked like he wasn't affected by the blast. He bolted toward the exit and Alex attempted to grab him by the foot, only for him to effortlessly shrug him off and stomp on him, causing him to roll in pain.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Soap follow along with Roach, who were still holding their ears and wincing from the pain of the ringing. 

Next Chapter : Going Dark - Part 2

Notification Squad my Beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @enderio @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

[miracul0us-multishipper]

You (Part 2)

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Part 1 | AO3

Felix Graham De Vanily was, in his own humble opinion, special. 

He was smart.

He was composed.

He knew exactly what to say and when, and he could make people see exactly what he wanted them to see.

He wasn’t his cousin, after all, almost identical looks aside. Adrien never knew when to speak up, or when it was better to stay quiet. Never knew how to hide his thoughts and keep his - utterly unrealistic, when it came to his father - hopes in check. And he might be smarter than Felix gave him credit for, but all that intelligence left him as soon as his friends were concerned.

That was what all his flaws boiled down to, really.

Adrien made the fatal, unforgiving mistake of caring too much. Always had.

(It was what Felix liked about him, deep down. Adrien was genuine, in everything he felt. Felix envied him for the ease with which he made friends.)

But.

Felix wasn’t like Adrien at all. He was too smart to care for people - his mother aside - any more than he had to. Mundane distractions. Friends, crushes - all things that would only deter him from his path in life: high above the crowd, always the center of attention, yet unreachable. Playing everyone, but gone before anybody noticed.

It was a glorious but lonely road. No, scratch that. It was a lonely but glorious road. Much better.

He didn’t need anything or anyone.

He was the sole and solemn genius of the family.

He was a magician, who didn’t need any fancy jewelry to work miracles - just the right distraction and disguise.

He was-

“Ow!”

Groaning Felix looked at the little bite marks on his finger. 

“Were you even listening?! Or did you just wait for an opportunity to stab me in the back?”

The black and white bundle of fur and betrayal on his lap meowed and swiped at his hand, now out of reach.

 “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”, he grumbled and shoved the traitor off of his legs, but couldn’t help but smile when he smugly licked his nose - as if to say: I'd do it again. “I raised you too well. Now, where was I?”

He sighed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t care for anyone - please stop scratching that ear, honey, it’s not healed yet - because I'm just too smart for that. So it’s utterly impossible that I, Felix Graham de Vanily, am in love with Dupain-Cheng. Got it?”

His cat, the little bastard, answered by knocking his pencil box over and started to chew on a pen. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? You dare doubt my word?”

With quick fingers he stole his cat's spoils and placed it out of his reach.

“Quite bold for a creature without opposable thumbs, hm?”

Insulted, the poor, thumbless pet retreated to his laptop and laid down on the keyboard - causing the screensaver to give way to the last opened tab. Which was Marinette's Instagram page.

“Wah!”

Hurried to hide the proof of his interest - as if she might somehow appear in his room if he looked at her picture for too long - he shooed his pet away and closed the tab. Said pet meowed smugly and, upset about being chased away from two spots already, sat down on his pillow. Great.

“You did that on purpose!”, he accused his cat. “But that tab proves nothing. It was merely a passing interest in her admittedly wearable work. It has nothing to do with any confessions - faked confessions, or that she can apparently recognize me in disguise, or the very neutral fact that she is cute, by some people's - not my own! - standards.”

His cat blinked. And sneezed onto his pillow.

“Bless you. Now move, or I’ll use you instead of a bunny for that hat trick I’m working on.”

Sighing, Felix let himself fall backwards onto his bed, grabbing the fleeing cat and burying his face in the fluffy fur.

“Oh, to be a cat!”, he wailed into his involuntary comfort pillow. “With no troubles except how to best annoy his owner.”

 The poor animal hissed and escaped his grasp, saving himself from the bitter fate of a comfort pillow.

 “Run, you uncaring monster.”, Felix sighed, “Leave me to my worries. Which don’t include Marinette at all, by the way.”

He sat up and watched as the little traitor turned to sulk on his dresser.

“Stop looking at me like that. Even if I had a short bout of interest - possibly even infatuation! It’s already all but cured.”

He nodded to himself, ignoring that the disinterested cat had begun cleaning his leg instead of listening.

“School's closed, after all!”, he hummed, scrolling through the news on his phone. “And social contacts are to be reduced to the bare minimum. So I’m not going to see her again before this passing interest has... well, passed.”

As if in response to his words, his laptop started to ring and the monitor lit up with the picture of blue, blue eyes and a smile that could melt the stars off of the sky. Not that he paid attention to such things.

“Oh no, no, no!”, he panted as he fell out of his bed and stumbled towards the computer. “Incoming Skype call?! Oh, come on!”

The ringtone repeated itself and Felix jumped.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”

Panicking, he looked at his pet.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The addressed party blinked. And went back to licking his nuts.

“Argh! I am surrounded by incompetence!”

Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his vest and cravat - just because he was staying at home for the foreseeable future didn’t mean that he would dress any less professionally.

“Who needs your advice anyway. I can do this.”

He straightened his back and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“I am Felix Graham de Vanily, the best actor in all of France and the United Kingdom, not in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I can totally answer a Skype call.”

Before he could think again, he pressed the green button.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng!”, he greeted overly enthusiastic. “We meet again.”

“If you can call it that.”, Marinette laughed with the voice of a goddamn angel. She was wearing a white, polka-dotted pajama top, was illuminated by early-noon sunlight falling through some sort of window in the ceiling, and her hair – was – down.

If this was some sort of cosmic test, it wasn’t fair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your virtual company?”, he said quickly, trying not to think too much about how her hair looked even softer than the fur of a certain cat. Then, for good measure, he added: “Miss me already?”

Marinette disappeared  for a moment, before returning with a sizable stack of papers.

“As much as I could do without my favorite pain in the neck, we have a school assignment to do. You know, since school is closed?”

She leaned in and he held his breath.

“Did you even notice? I haven’t seen you last Friday.”

What was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I noticed alright! It kept me from embarrassing myself by avoiding you, because my brain got all mushy ever since you fake-confessed to me pretending to be my cousin?

Ha! Fat chance.

“Aw, worried for me?”, he improvised, as usual, by being sarcastic. “Let me soothe your concern for your favorite pain in the neck: I merely got tired of cosplaying Adrien. I'm a very busy man, you see?”

She rolled her eyes and somehow managed to make it look cute.

“Of course you are. Well, hopefully not too busy for a presentation on marine biology, due next week.”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the one Adrien and I are supposed to do?”

Felix Had Questions. For example:

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hack into Adriens E-mail account. I saw you present homework that you couldn’t have known about if Madame Mendeleiev hadn’t emailed you, as Adrien.”

She raised an eyebrow, in a way that could almost be described as playful.

“Plus, you seem the type to do that.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, as if it would hide his racing heartbeat.

“First of all: No, I am not breaking into my cousins account. I may like to prank him - or rather everyone, really - but that goes a little far. Secondly, that Lila girl was only too eager to do homework with Adrien-Me, so I could keep up with every assignment once I could get her hands off of me.”

“I thought a magician never revealed his tricks?”

True. But he had wanted to see if she would get jealous. Which she didn’t. Which was expected and totally fine by him. He didn’t care anyways.

Lucky for him, Marinette wanted to tease him more than an answer.

“Well, I hope your work ethic is better when it comes to presentations. I'll send you the materials!”

A click later, his laptop alerted him of One New Email, containing no less than twenty-two pages of material. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not to crush your little illusion of me as a hard-working student, but that looks like awfully tedious work. What makes you think I would voluntarily do homework meant for Prince Charming?”

The sassy little smirk she'd shown him during their battles of wit last week returned.

“You mean, aside from the fact that, once school is open again and Adrien is back, your little trick with pretending to be him will be revealed? And that I’m your best chance not to be chased out of town by a very angry Chloé Bourgeois? Not to start with Alya, Rose and Juleka, who still haven’t forgiven you for that stunt you pulled the last time you were here.”

Sound argument, he had to give her that.

“Pah!”, he said, just for the sake of irritating her. “So what? It’s not like it was my idea to move to Paris anyway!”

That was at least partially true. His mother had insisted to come back to France, mostly because she wanted to keep an eye on Gabriel. But he hadn’t been against it either.

It wasn’t like he had friends in London anyway, and in Paris it at least didn’t get boring, with all these butterflies and superheroes. Plus, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had missed Adrien. That boy could use a little family - once Felix was done pretending to be him. 

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin impatiently.

“Well, then see it as the prize you promised me after our little insult-match at the Trocadero.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”, he held up his hands. “I already settled that score, didn’t I? You confessed to me, remember?”

“I practiced confessing to Adrien with you, you mean.”, she reminded him with a raised eyebrow – Ouch, by the way – before leaning back in her pink chair. “And that was because you talked me into it. I never told you what I wanted, did I?”

Well, fuck. Not that the prospect of working with Marinette was that unpleasant, but in his current state of emotional confusion, it would only be detrimental. He needed an out, an excuse!

“Why would you want to work with me anyways? I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to do something with Prince Adrien of Dreamland. Why settle for the pain in the neck?”

Marinette sighed.

“Adrien is still recovering from his flu, and given the current, ah, global situation, I thought it would be better to put his health first. Besides, you're my favorite pain in the neck.”

“I'm flattered, darling”, he said, trying not to sound like it was as true as it was, “but-“

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette interrupted him with a shout, and suddenly her eyes dominated the entire screen, as if she were mere millimeters away from her own computer. “Felix! What is that?!”

“Huh?”, he made, eloquent as usual. He turned around, just in time to see his traitorous cat jump from the dresser right onto his lap. Apparently, now that Felix had someone else to talk to, the little bastard felt neglected. 

“You mean him?”, he asked, turning back to the screen with the cat in his lap. An inhuman squeal came from the other side of the line and Marinette sacked back into her chair, which spun around its axis, like, three times in a single second.

“Felix Graham de Vanily!”, she said with all but glowing eyes. “Show – me – the cat!”

Since her voice made absolutely clear that it had been an order and Felix had always had a strong survival instinct, he obediently held up the little monster. Who let out a plaintive little “Mow”, but otherwise submitted to his fate.

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette repeated, “He's adorable!”

“You think?”, Felix said dumbly, at a loss for how to react to this sudden change in situation.

“I do! I do! What's his name?”

“Uh...”, Felix thought, debating whether a lie would save his reputation. “Uhm...”

“Don’t tell me you named him Felix Junior!” She turned towards the cat in false exasperation. “Did he name you Felix Junior?!”

The cat that was most certainly not named Felix Junior meowed in his feline confusion.

“No, of course not!”, Felix snapped back, sinking into the chair as if it might have mercy and swallow him.

“Then what's his name? What, for God’s sake, is this pretty little kitty called?!”

What had his life turned into?

“'dini.”, he mumbled, hiding his face behind the cat.

“What? Speak louder!”, Marinette demanded, and so he accepted his fate.

“Houdini!”, he groaned in embarrassment. “I named him Houdini, alright? I was eleven!”

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, inevitably, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“For real? I can’t believe it!”

Sulking, Felix turned away from the screen, but immediately Marinette stopped.

“No, no, no! Bring Houdini back! I love his name, okay? Give him back!”

“You're not telling anybody of him, got it?”, he hissed, cheeks as red as Ladybug's suit. Marinette snickered. 

“Of course, I promise. Houdini will be our little secret, alright? Now bring him back!”

Satisfied, Felix turned the chair back towards the laptop and placed Houdini on the desk. The curious thing didn’t hesitate to lounge onto his keyboard and examined the camera, much to Marinette’s delight.

“Oh lord, he's so cute!”

Felix sighed and leaned back.

“Believe me, he knows.”

“He looks just like you!”

At that, Felix spluttered and jumped up again.

“W-w-what?!”

Internally already setting up the equation: “Marinette thinks Houdini is cute, and Marinette thinks Houdini looks like Felix, then Marinette thinks Felix is cute?” he was about two seconds from fainting.

“He's got a little tie, see?”, Marinette giggled on, ignorant of the thought-spiral she'd sent him into. “Just like you!”

Oh. She meant the patterns of his fur, which admittedly looked a little like he was wearing a tie. Of course.

“Who's the most adorable thing in Paris? You are!”, Marinette continued with her shameless adoration of that undeserving little brat, who currently Mow-ed happily at the screen. Pah!

“Just so you know, he bites people for fun.”, Felix badmouthed his own pet, absolutely not because he was jealous. “You can’t trust him. He'll act sweet, but as soon as you're not looking he's got your fingers between his sharp little fangs!”

“Eh, I can handle it.”, Marinette shrugged and immediately went back to admiring Houdini. “You're a good kitty, aren’t you? The best, the best! Yes, you are!”

“No, he's not!”, Felix insisted through clenched teeth. “He's moody and arrogant! Nobody likes him, that's why I took him in! He thinks it’s fun to hurt people, he holds grudges forever and he's incredibly annoying when he's bored!”

Wait, was he still talking about the cat?

“You just like him because he looks all cute and innocent, but if you knew him, you'd never even want to be in the same room as him.”

Marinette had gone quiet on the other side, and Houdini narrowed his eyes at him in betrayal. Then she shrugged.

“If you don’t want him anymore, I'll take him in.”

“What?!”

She would have to pry the little shit out of his cold, dead hands!

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he asked, trying not to let on that he didn’t actually dislike Houdini.

Marinette smiled.

“Sure. But I still think he's a good kitty.”

“But why?”

She hummed, pushing her stack of papers aside so she could put her elbows on the desk. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked up in him.

“Most cats are. You just got to give them a chance to come out of their shell.”

“But... But he's mean!”

“Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he needs some friends, and then he'll learn to be nicer. I can wait.”

He was not blushing!

“Why would you want to? There's lots of better cats, you could just pick one of them right away.”

“Yeah, well, I want Houdini. All cats deserve a chance. Even the meaner ones.”

She smiled down at the black and white loaf that purred on his keyboard.

“In my experience, peop- cats only show their best sides if you give them a chance to open up. If you're too quick to brush them aside as hopeless, or mean, you might miss out on the most wonderful personalities underneath. And I think Houdini is one of those.”

And then, because the universe just wanted to see him fall, she winked at him. Jesus Christ!

“Anyway, I'll give you some time to read through the material I sent you. Message me once you’re done, we've got a lot of work ahead. Bye!”

Before he could realize what she had said, the window blanked and closed on him. Disappointed that his fan had vanished, Houdini meowed and returned once again to Felix' lap.

“Bye.”, Felix stammered belatedly. What had just... How could she go around just saying things like that? And then hang up?!

“Ugh, Houdini!”, he lamented. “Look what I have become!”

Reduced to a beetred, stammering, weird-cat-metaphor-using fool!

The cat gave a smug “Mrow” and headbutted him in the chin, but Felix didn’t have it in him to complain.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat, “you win. So what if I like her?”

Houdini purred.

“You do too, don’t you? Bet you'd bite her anyway.”

He purred on, unperturbed.

“Knew it.”

He sighed once again.

“She's right, though. You are a good kitty. Deep down.”

Houdini meowed and licked his finger, just where he'd bitten him earlier.

“Well, now you're just sucking up to me! Two-faced little demon. Mwah!”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his furry head, then rolled the chair closer to the desk and opened his emails.

“Alright, then.”, he tried to motivate himself, “let's show Marinette what a good kitty- what a good person we are and do our homework.”

At that, Houdini promptly stood up and jumped onto the bed, leaving him alone with twenty-two pages of reading material.

“Bastard.”

- - -

Bonus:

Ladybug, crashing through Felix' window: Felix Graham de Vanily!

Felix: Ladybug?!

Ladybug: I have it on good authority that you own a good kitty! It is crucial for the safety of Paris that I pet him right this instant!

Felix, remembering her right hook: ... sure?

[millers-planet]

Makeshift pt 2 - Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Storyline: Parties with a dozen is sometimes less preferable than “parties” with two (set in between ep vii and iv)

Warnings: 2k words of smut, oral (both receiving), teasing, a lil bit of ass slapping, and like an ounce of face-fucking undertones, kind of pet names?????

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!RebelPilot!Reader (no pronoun usage)

POV: Reader

part one

We all new this new base on Yavin 4 wouldn’t last long, which is why Poe told me to keep our stuff in boxes rather than unpack. Our multi-room living space was now demoted (like Poe’s rank) to a smaller, tent-like space, which was now just a few drawers and a bed. I was content with this, because the only think I needed in a room was Poe.

“Knock knock,” Poe’s fingers glided across the fabric, “or, I guess tap tap?” He made me giggle, grabbing my hips and turning me around to kiss him. I could feel his antsy hands slowly moving lower, “we never finished what we started on the ship back there, on our little makeshift date.”

I pushed his hands up more, onto my hips versus my ass. “These are not walls, Poe, this is fabric. While I am always down to try new things,” he smirked at me, “this is not one of them. We have been interrupted so much lately and I don’t want to risk anything.”

He broke eye contact and I saw his face go from ‘how do I find a place to fuck my girlfriend without people finding out?’ to: ‘I know a place where I can fuck my girlfriend without anyone finding out. “I got something figured out, trust me, you might hate it or you might love it, no in between.” He planted a small kiss to my forehead and walked away, “meet me back here at sunset.” 

I’ve been with Poe long enough to decipher whatever his plan or idea is, before he can even get the words out. I know what each eyebrow wiggle of his means, but for some reason, I have no clue what he’s getting me into today. What is he going to do?

I waited on the Millennium Falcon for some time, just playing Dejarik with C3PO, beating the droid every once in awhile “Hey!” I looked up and my face dropped, “I told you to meet me back at the tent at sunset what happened?”

“Oh, Poe, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time playing this game with 3PO. I probably ruined whatever you had in mind, I’m sorry.” I put my face in my hands, utterly disappointed in myself for being so careless. He asked me to do one thing, how incompetent could I possibly be?

Poe crouched down to my height and pulled my face away from my hands, “Y/N, this is where I was gonna bring you anyway. I spent the rest of the day catching up with the General to see if we were making any battle plans, or if the Falcon is in use, which it isn’t...” his voice dragged on, prolonging eye contact with me in the seductive manner. 

The dots finally connected in my mind and my mouth dropped, “you want to?” He nodded. “In here?” He nodded again. I looked behind me, seeing if 3PO was still there, Poe probably shewed him out while I wasn’t looking. “What if Rey wants to go check on something... or someone wants to use the ship?” 

“Rey is training nonstop, Finn has been making some time for Rose, and Chewy has nothing to do,” Poe began rubbing his thumb on my palm, making eye contact again. “This is a fool-proof plan, you know I can be smart when I choose to be.”

I leaned in, inches from his face, “and it isn’t very often.” I closed the gap and kissed him gently, one of his rough hands grazing the back of my soft neck, sending chills down my spine. “If you think we’ll be fine, then sure, Poe.”

“Yes?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The biggest fucking smirk spread across his face, putting his lips to mine and standing up. He grabbed my hips and hoisted me around his waist, my legs wrapping around him, my arms going around his neck. He carried me to what seemed like a backroom, almost a medical room, on the Falcon, closing the door behind us. Gently he sat me down on the edge of the bed, getting back down on his knees, in between my legs. I knew exactly where this was going, the anticipation growing in me, making heat swell in the middle of my thighs.

With his mouth never leaving mine, the soft kisses never getting rough, just quicker, he untucked my shirt. Placing his warm hands and fingers on my torso, thumbs rubbing my waistline in between my pants. I gave him the ‘go ahead’ by solely pulling out my excess belt strap, leaving him to do the rest. Slowly, just enough to tease, he used two hands to undo my belt, fingertips always grazing my skin whenever possible. Poe undid the button to pants, placing his four finger on both of his hands in the waist of my pants, before I stopped him.

I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, “don’t you think the places should be reversed, I mean, we are still celebrating that dreadnaught victory, right?”

He smiled, “it was your victory just as much as it was mine.” Poe put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back, my elbows on the bed and back just hardly touching the wall. He pulled off my pants and threw them across the room, making me laugh just a tiny bit. To build me up more, he planted kisses from the middle of my inner thigh, up to the center of my body, skipping over it, and going down my thigh. I whined quietly at the missed spot, making him look up to me and wink.

His mouth made contact with my clit, kissing it and sucking on it. He put his hands on either side of my thighs, gripping them and pushing them apart just a little bit more. Poe’s tongue lapped circled on my nub, flicking it every few seconds, making my breath catch in my throat each time. Poe had a rhythm, just one I hadn’t caught onto yet, which was good. This meant that I never knew what was gonna come next, making it remind me of our first time over and over again.

Caught in the flashback, I didn’t even notice his finger teasing my entrance before it was put inside of me. I gasped at the sensation and arched my back slightly, I could feel Poe’s smile grow. His tongue slowly added more pressure with each thrust and curl of his middle finger inside of me. The calloused finger just glided across my sweet spot, causing me to muffle a cry, “right there, oh my god, right there.”

“What do we say?” Poe stopped every movement, pulling his mouth off of me and freezing his finger knuckle-deep in me.

“Damnit, Poe,” I whined, bucking my hips slightly at the lost contact.

He tapped my ass, making me wince, not in pain, just from being caught off-guard. “What happened to manners, Y/N?”

I sucked in a breath of air, “please, Poe.” With that, he began again. His lips returned to my hot nerves and pulled his finger out, glazing over the sweet-spot once more. I dropped my head and gripped my shirt, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he was giving me. Just as I thought this, he put his index finger in with the next pump and curl of his middle. I melted like putty, my elbows dropped out on me, making me now flat on the bed with my ass almost entirely hanging off.

“That’s my girl,” his breath was cold, if anything, compared to my hot core. The small exhale from his nose caught me off, making my thigh twitch. With each thrust of finger and suck of his mouth, I became even more wound up. His tongue paused for a microsecond, just as he put my leg over his shoulder, opposite of the hand that inside of me. “C’mon, baby, cum for me.” His fingers pumped faster, the curls dragging out more, and the circles matching the same rhythm and intensity.

“Poe,” I cried out, my back arching and abdomen felt like it was twisting up, about to burst. His free hand slapped my ass and grabbed it, making me stifle a cry and bite my lip. My thighs shake as everything began to unwind. My walls tightened around his fingers and he slowed down his movement, helping me ride out my wave of pleasure.

As I caught my breath, Poe stood up, making the tent in his pants very obvious. I sat up and took his finger in my mouth as he placed them in there, making me cleaning them up and taste myself. He pulled his fingers out, a small pop filling the empty yet heavy air as the pressure broke. His lips met mine, the kiss was slow and meaningful, I stood up and put him where I was without breaking it. 

Only when I sat down did I finally break it, getting down on my knees and undoing his pants the same way he did mine, but slower, payback for what he did to me a few minutes ago. When I finally undid the zipper and button, he lifted his hips up a little bit to help me slid his pants and underwear down, his erection springing up.

Precum came out from the top, taking my thumb I spread it around before placing him into my mouth, slowly taking him in to give jaw time to adjust. I couldn’t the entirety of him me, because if I did, I’d probably choke. Poe gathered most of my hair into one of his hands and place it on the back of my head, just a few strands hanging out. His hand wasn’t forceful, just resting there, as is face was pointed towards me, watching me try to take him all in.

I lifted my head up a little bit, going up and down, slowly adding speed. I placed one hand on his thighs and the other at the end of his length where I couldn’t get in, pumping it with the speed of my mouth. As I moved my tongue around slightly in my mouth, low grunts came from the bottom of his throat, his fingers flinching as I went on, eventual moans coming out of him, “Y/N, fuck. Yeah, use your pretty little mouth just like that.”

I could tell he sensed that I was about to do the same thing as he did to me, but before I could lift my face up, he pushed me back down, which was sudden and nearly made me choke... though this isn’t the first time. As Poe got closer, he began to buck his hips and thrust into me, basically fucking my face, which I was fine with. I bobbed my head to match with his speed and gripped him just a little bit tighter until his hand instinctively forced me down to take the full length of him in. 

My nose touched his abdomen as his hand wouldn’t let up, him spewing his load into the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow so I wouldn’t choke. Tears went down my face as he finally let me back up, making me cough and wipe my mouth. Poe stood up and pulled up his pants, but didn’t buckle them or anything. He pulled me up and kissed me, passionately, the kiss deep and long. I pushed him back down onto the bed playfully and laid down next to him, pressing my bare ass against his pants. “I love you,” I said softly.

“I love you, too.” He cleared his throat and rubbed circles into my shoulder, “y’know no one has said anything to us yet, so.. if you want we could...” Before he could finished his sentence, I straddled him, looking at him down. “Yes?” He asked, the same tone from earlier.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he flipped his over, putting me beneath him and making me laugh at the sudden change in places.

tags: @blondekel77 @mysticdeerpolice​ @gabile18 

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[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Fairy Dust

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: adventure, fantasy, fluff

Word Count: 22k

(A/N): This is my first time writing anything like this and boy was it tough! Also I really didn’t mean for it to be this long so oops 😬

For BCC One Summer Night Project

You follow Jimin away from your campsite off the beaten path on a journey guided by starlight, walking hand in hand and treading lightly so as not to disturb the wildlife around you. You weave through the wooded area of your night trail to a destination that your boyfriend has not yet disclosed to you. Shades of midnight blues and purples color what was once green and brown around you, blackening shapes at your feet that you step over with care.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You fret with a chuckle, enjoying the warmth of his fingers when they squeeze yours.

“Of course, I used to come here all the time with my family. It’s right up ahead.” He points with a finger you can barely see in the dim lighting. You trust him, shrugging to yourself as you trek on. He stops you a few steps later, looking down at his feet until you do the same and come to the realization that there is a stream in your path. “I’ll go first.”

He demonstrates by stepping on a flat stone in the center of the water source, leaping to the other side gracefully before turning to offer you his hand and a smile. Your movements are a lot more unsteady than his. A hesitant step on the stone is all you can manage before you’re grasping for his hand, stumbling to his side and nearly pulling both of you down into the water, a few bugs flying up at your rough landing. It’s smooth sailing after that, avoiding a fallen log, regretfully stepping over the corpse of a poor decaying animal, and brushing past short shrubbery before you finally reach a clearing with a perfect view of the starry ceiling above you.

“Wow,” From this vantage point at your altitude in these mountains the beautiful glow of the galaxy is not clouded by pollution or artificial light. You’ve never seen so many stars in your life, all twinkling at you in clusters of white dots that form patterns and constellations above your head. Jimin pulls a purple blanket from the bag on his back, placing it in the uncut grass at the center of the meadow. You take a seat next to him, laying back to curl into his chest comfortably as his arms come to wrap around you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks in a whisper, watching the environment around you come to life from your movement. Fireflies rise above the blades of green beneath you to put on a display of light for you, creating their own pictures that rival even the stars.

“It’s... perfect.” You are utterly speechless, simply thankful that he decided to share this with you. Looking up, you discover that he is no longer looking around but is focused solely on you now, and when you lock eyes, you lean in for a kiss. You could swear that the fireflies around you begin to circle around your bodies once your lips touch, your eyes now closed and a delicious scent engulfing you. It’s easy to get lost in Jimin’s kiss, so easy that you begin to lose track of time and space and lose consciousness.

“Why did you pick them?” A voice sounds distantly, distorted oddly in your ears.

“Uhm, well, I- uh,” The timid squeak comes from much closer, and you can almost hear the nervous way the mysterious person gnaws on their lip. A loud sigh. “We’re desperate.”

“...Fine. But you couldn’t have found someone more— I don’t know— muscular than them? I mean come on, they’re both practically splinters!”

“There was no one else around... maybe we could make this a stealth mission instead?”

Your eyes start to crack open once the grogginess fades, a soft and fuzzy fabric swallowing you in its folds. Jimin is not in your immediate line of sight and everything is brighter than you remember. Your head lifts before you’ve gotten both eyes fully open, alerting the two that now accompany you.

“Oh, one of them is awake!” The timid voice whispers, and the first thing to come into view is a flawless face, features too smooth and delicate to be real. The woman’s skin sparkles as if she had been bathed in glitter, but it seems that she’s producing her own light, an supernatural glow outlining her body and... wings? Maybe your eyes were still adjusting...

“Mm, what happened?” You mumble, your mind feeling hazy. Once your eyes fully focus, you jump at her proximity.

“W-wow, I didn’t know humans were this pretty.” She gushes, earning a slap on the shoulder from the other person she’s with. Looking to the left, you find a shorter woman whose features are just as undefined as her taller counterpart, the same glow haloed around her.

“Don’t say things like that.” She scolds.

“Jimin?!” Suddenly you think of your boyfriend, who you have yet to see, and begin to search around, finally taking in your surroundings and noticing that you appear to be lost in a sea of purple, blanket-like material, its folds blocking and trapping you as you move around to find your partner. You call out to him again, this time receiving a response.

“(Y/n)?” He sounds sleepy, probably just waking up from whatever slumber you had fallen into.

“We should help.” The taller woman says, appearing behind you to grab you under your arms and lift you. Lift you? Wait, were you flying?! Your legs dangle as you rise higher above your fabric prison, the new perspective allowing you to see that you were surrounded by giant blades of grass and that you had, in fact, been on your blanket. She lowers you next to Jimin, huffing from the exertion, and you scramble to his side. What the hell was going on?

“Did you just... Fly?” He looks at you funny, then turns his attention to the two mysterious figures who have yet to introduce themselves.

“Hello, humans.” The shorter one starts awkwardly, cringing at herself. “You’ve finally awoken! That’s good.” There’s quiet— well, not really, the atmosphere is no longer muffled sounds of the forest, but now resembles a bustling town in daylight. Everything is so much louder. “W-well, my name is Alva and that’s Laila,” She nods in the other’s direction.

“What happened to us? Why did we pass out?” You question immediately, not bothering with self-introduction.

“O-oh, well, y-you both, um,” Laila starts, unable to look either of you in the eye. “What I mean to say is... you- we kind of-“

“We sprinkled you with Fairy Dust.” Alva finishes bluntly. Your jaws drop. She can’t be serious, this must be a joke. Yet you can’t bring yourself to laugh. No, she looks too serious.

“Fairy dust?” Jimin barely cracks a smile, subconsciously touching your arm to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“Y-yeah, but it appears I was a bit heavy handed. My apologies.” Laila smiles wryly, wringing her hands together nervously. “We are the fairies that live in this forest, and we need your help to save a dear comrade.” It is only then that you actually process what you’re looking at. The two of them hover in front of you, their wings fluttering gracefully like those of a hummingbird, the movement too quick for your eyes to perceive.

“Are we fairies now too?” Jimin checks his own body, then yours, inspecting you for any differences. The only thing that has changed is your size, and he sighs in relief.

“For the most part you are just tiny humans now, but we can make you wings if you so desire.” Alva deadpans, impatiently waiting for you to come to terms with the situation. She continues before you have the chance to let things sink in. “Stink bugs have infested these lands and have made their home by the water source, blocking all creatures on this side of the meadow from reaching the water’s edge. We fairies have put up a resistance to this, and in retaliation, they have kidnapped our leader. Please, we kindly ask for your help in retrieving her.”

“Why can’t you save her yourselves? Don’t you have an army?” Jimin frowns, unsure of how he feels about being this little. You may still be in shock.

“They have fortified their home with troops that protect them from land and air. In order to enter their territory, we would need to get past them, but they attack everything that they identify as being from this side of the meadow.” A chill runs up your spine. Were you willing to embark on a dangerous mission like this?

“But t-their eyesight is pretty bad, so they might not recognize you as fairies, even with wings.” Laila speaks up when she sees you wavering. “You may be able to negotiate a way in.”

“I don’t know about this.” Your boyfriend murmurs to you as he weighs your safety versus adventure. He’s always so kindhearted, so you know he wants to help them, but how far was he willing to go if danger was involved? If it was you he was worried about, you wanted to quell his fears.

“It sounds scary, honestly. But when in our lives will we get another chance to do something like this? We get to be fairies! That’ll never happen to us again.” You smile. But suddenly your eyes shoot wide, turning to the women again. “Wait, this does wear off, right? We won’t be stuck like this forever?”

“Well, there is a spell to reverse this, but the fairy you must rescue is the only one who has mastered it.” Laila offers with another apologetic look.

“Then we have to! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, we have to take advantage. These people need our help! Plus, what else are we going to do while we’re this tiny? Might as well become hero’s while we’re at it.” You chuckle, pulling a smile from him. “If it gets dangerous we’ll protect each other, promise.”

“What if something goes wrong and one of us gets hurt?” He asks. It’s uncharacteristic of him to worry like this, but this is uncharted territory so you can understand his apprehension. But as a couple you are known for your adventurous nature— hell, he’s the one who suggested going camping in the Rocky Mountains by yourselves in the first place. You won’t let him back down from this.

“What if everything goes right?” Your hand finds its way into his, squeezing in reassurance as he looks over your face. With a second more of hesitation, Jimin finally nods in agreement and the two fairies sigh in relief.

The mission they explain to you seems very much like the objective of a video game: traverse through different landscapes and hone your skills until you reach the villain’s lair, where you will then attempt to rescue the princess (or in this case, fairy leader) and defeat the villain. Of course, you will be responsible for coming up with the plan once you reach the lair because the fairies know nothing about where their leader is kept or what the stink bug king will think of you. It is entirely possible that you’ll be able to negotiate with him to release their leader and stop blocking the waterway, but it’s more exciting to think you’ll do a bit of fighting.

“We have supplies and tools for you that will be helpful for you on your journey.” Alva is kinder to you now, advising you to come along to their home to prepare for your mission.

“We don’t have wings yet...” You point out, assuming that you would fly to their abode.

“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes at you, not bothering to explain. A high pitched whistle comes from her with little effort, followed by an intense buzzing noise approaching from behind. You and Jimin turn in horror as 3 giant fireflies appear from the sky, landing weightlessly on the surface before you with a blinding flash of light. It is then that you realize that the brightness in the sky above you isn’t from sunlight, but are actually the bulbs of the fireflies you had admired before. The three in front of you dim their lights to save your eyes, peering down at you with curiously large eyes.

Laila begins to speak with them in a language of chirps and clicks, and much to your surprise, they respond energetically to her. Although you now pale in comparison to these creatures, they are still awe-inspiring; with their red upper bodies that contrast so prettily with the luminescent glow of their yellow-green rears, the hard outer wings that protect the delicate transparent wings beneath that you’ve never noticed until now. Never in your life have you expected to see any bug from this close up.

Laila lets out a laugh that brings your attention back to her. “They agreed to give us a lift home.” She seems brighter after the interaction, though she still refuses to look you in the eye. “Ah! Let me introduce you— this is Magus,” She points to the one on the right, who tilts his head down at you in what you assume to be a bow. “This is Meri,” the one on the left nods at you two as well and you nudge Jimin in his side to offer a bow back. “And this is Garnet, named for her color.” The firefly in the center lifts her wings slightly in greeting and it takes immense self control not to step back in intimidation. She is the largest of the 3 and her color is distinctly different, her body appearing as a deep shade of red mimicking that of a garnet stone, as opposed to the pinkish shade that her counterparts take on.

“Since there are two of you, you will be traveling on Garnet because she is the biggest.” Alva explains, already in the air and mounted on Magus’ back.

“Wait, you want us to ride on its back?!” Jimin seems startled as you walk ahead of him and reach your hand out to Garnet, touching her head. Normally bugs were something you feared, but you have a newfound sense of bravery that is sparked by the novelty of this experience. “(Y/n), don’t touch it!” He shouts, eyebrows furrowing cutely when your hand makes contact with the insect.

“Babe, it’s fine, stop being so wimpy.” You snicker at his distress. “She won’t hurt us, I can tell. She’s nice.” The firefly chitters at you, causing Laila to giggle.

“She says to hop on, she doesn’t bite. But if you need a nip of encouragement she’s more than willing to give you one.” Jimin shutters and takes a hesitant step forward, following your lead with a soft pat to her head. She lowers to the ground as much as she can, and the two of you hop on with Jimin in front and your arms wrapped comfortably around his waist. He can feel your smile and it gives him a little peace of mind.

“No offense, but we don’t have time for cowardice. Anything could be happening to our leader right now and the more time we waste, the more danger we put her in.” Alva cuts in sharply with a twitch of her wings.

“Grab the ropes and hold on tight.” Directing your gaze to the thin ropes seamlessly attached to the smooth surface of Garnet’s shell— by magic, you assume— you take Laila’s advice and grab onto them from behind Jimin. “I already told her where we’re going, just tap her back twice to signal when you’re ready and she’ll take off.”

“Are you ready?” Your boyfriend asks, rolling his shoulders.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” At your confirmation, he taps his hand on the hard shell and her wings open up, fluttering loudly on either side of you before you begin to lift from the ground. You rise quickly yet carefully, and you can’t help but let out an elated squeal as the earth beneath you gets farther and farther away. The footprints you left in the grass when you arrived in the meadow have somewhat disappeared as the blades slowly return to their normal standing position, but you can still see the sheer size of them compared to how small you are now. Even from high up they look enormous, each one flattening an area that would probably take you several minutes to cross on foot. But the most amazing sight of all is something that Jimin points out with a dropped jaw.

The blanket that you had both been comfortably laying on not 10 minutes prior was now unreasonably large and you struggle to comprehend the scale. If being on the back of a bug wasn’t enough, seeing your own belongings look so disproportionate compared to you is what makes you realize just how tiny you really are. It’s almost frightening being so small and fragile, the human body does not have many natural adaptations to fend off the world making this situation that much more dangerous, but having Jimin with you eases your heart significantly. He isn’t the strongest or the bravest, or even the smartest for that matter, but you know that if you work together you’ll be alright. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you cling to him on your way up into the trees, not missing the opportunity to take in the view.

You’re taken to what looks to be a treehouse, perched on one of the thin branches at the top of a tree. It could be mistaken for a small bird’s nest from the outside, but the home is actually complexly made with a variety of materials and innovation you are unfamiliar with. Jimin grabs your hand immediately after you dismount from Garnet, glancing down from your height with a silent warning. Of course he’s weary, if either of you fell from this distance you would be dead before you were halfway down the trunk. Even a fall to the next branch down would be life threatening, but you try not to think about it as you walk carefully to the entrance of the home.

“Do not touch anything.” Alva hisses as she holds the door open for you. The inside of the abode is cozier than you expected, sheltered from the chill of the night and decorated with art and color.

“Alva, don’t be so crude to our guests.” Laila scolds, wringing her hands again. She seems to be nervous once more without the presence of her firefly companions.

“Do you live here together?” You ask, moving to inspect some items on a bookshelf. Jimin smacks your hand when you go to lift something up, reminding you of Alva’s warning.

“Y-yes.” Laila nods, turning away from you when you meet her eyes. They say no more on the matter so you don’t press it. “Anyway, you’ll need a few things for your journey. We’ll accompany you most of the way, but we won’t be able to enter once we reach the stink bug’s territory so you’ll need disguises.”

“I thought you said they won’t recognize us?” Jimin questions, walking over to where Alva is hard at work crafting something on a workbench.

“The stink bugs won’t, but they have spies everywhere. We’ll have to pass through some town centers on the way there and that’s where you’ll have the highest risk of being discovered. Also, they know that the two of us are part of the resistance so they will automatically be suspicious if we’re seen traveling together.” She murmurs. You watch as she sprinkles glowing dust onto the table, grabbing tools that glow similarly and manipulating the powder with skilled hands.

“That’s Fairy Dust.” Laila whispers to you when she sees the looks of confusion on your faces. It looks just how you imagined it would.

“So, are you saying that we’ll have to go through the town centers by ourselves?” Jimin’s question makes your heart jump with nerves.

“Yes and no. We’ll have to walk through the towns since their surveillance is stricter on air traffic, but all you have to do is follow behind us and everything will be fine. We’ll go first and lead the way while you trail a safe distance behind us. We can fly together between towns, when we’re not being watched.”

“Fly?” How would you fly if you didn’t have wings like them? You’ll probably use the fireflies again, so you don’t fret, but Alva shakes her head.

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” She asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes at your stupid question. “I’m making you wings so that you can fly with us.” Just as she says this, her workspace begins to glow red.

The Fairy Dust had somehow turned into thin sheets of glass-like material while you were looking away, inflexible and cloudy in quality but now burning a bright red color. Alva whispers something under her breath as she places her hands over the material, closing her eyes in focus. The glowing intensifies and Jimin pulls you back a few steps protectively to look on at a safer distance. Amazingly, the material transforms right before your eyes into transparent and featherlight wings that mimic those of the fairies beside you. They bend when she lifts them, they look extremely frail and delicate, so thin that you almost want to doubt their capabilities in holding you up in midair.

“Turn around.” She instructs quickly to you, using two fingers to rub more Fairy Dust on the edges of each wing. You spin for her and feel her move closer before pausing. The perplexed and irritated look on her face can be felt through the thick air and you don’t even have to see her to sense it.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin dares, eyes flicking back and forth between you.

“What covers your skin?” She asks, much to your confusion. You want to answer but you honestly have no idea what she’s referring to. Neither does Jimin.

“I believe they call them ‘clothes’”. Laila responds quietly.

“Ew, remove them.” The disgust in Alva’s voice is clear, startling you. Somehow, one small detail had escaped both you and your boyfriend this entire time: the fact that the two fairies are completely naked. Their bodies are just as undefined and nondescript as their faces and the odd light they seemed to give off acted as some sort of censor, making it difficult to tell whether or not they were wearing anything. But their reactions confirm that they, indeed, are in the nude. It makes sense, humans are the only creatures to cover themselves like this. But you’re still human and the thought of roaming naked and free in this unfamiliar landscape is uncomfortable.

“Is there a way that you could put the wings on over the clothes?” You turn to allow her to see the cringe on your cheeks. “Logically, it would make sense to keep our clothes on so that when we save your leader and return to normal size, we won’t be naked and exposed in the wilderness?” It’s phrased like a question because of the intimidating glare Alva is giving you, sucking the confidence right out of your words.

Thankfully, Laila is there to back you up. “It’s true, if they aren’t wearing their coverings when they turn back, i-it will remain our size.” Alva gives her the death glare too, but surprisingly, Laila doesn’t back down.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work, you’re making the next pair of wings.” She points to her roommate, smoothing down your shirt to get a feel for the structure of your back before gently attaching the wings. Their attachment is joined by a ticklish sensation that makes you squirm and giggle, pulling against the small hands that attempt to hold you in place. You expected it to be painful, but the ticklish feeling fades quickly followed by nothing, your extensions successfully attached. She moves onto Jimin swiftly and you grin as the cutest giggle bubbles from his throat at the feeling. The wings really suit him, he looks like a fairy prince that has come to sweep you off your feet and fly off into the distance.

“Excellent.” Laila sighs in relief when your wings move with the motion of your shoulders, steadfast and not likely to come off. “I have prepared these for you as well.” She thrusts a bag into your hands, as well as a shiny whistle. “This Fairy Dust is essential to our mission. Fairies use it to craft things and manipulate items around them, so it is imperative that you get this to our leader to aid in her rescue and escape. This whistle is to only be used in emergencies,” Placing one in Jimin’s hands, she glares when he immediately puts it to his lips. “It will call Garnet to you in case you need a ride, but she is very busy at this time of night, so try not to use it.”

“Okay! Now we’re all set to go!” Alva rushes, practically pushing you out of her house.

Laila is the only one who has patience enough to teach you to fly, speeding through a lesson and demonstration with pressure from the other woman who looks on with annoyance. To Jimin, who is always quite graceful, flying is easy. The wings on his back move to his will and it’s as if he’s dancing in the air, lifting above you and quickly using his skills to twirl and flip. You, on the other hand, struggle immensely. As soon as your feet leave the ground, balance loses all meaning to you and you toddle unsteadily, smacking into things left and right because of the uneven flutter of your propellers. You bet you look silly right now— no, you know you do because Jimin makes sure to laugh loudly every time you struggle— but this is no time for shame. Alva concludes your lesson once it’s apparent that you won’t fall out of the sky and suggests that you’ll get the hang of it as you go, barely waiting for you before taking off from the tip of the branch.

“Now, I must warn you,” She says as you rush to keep up. “These wings do have a time limit, so it’s important that we make it to the water as fast as possible before time runs out or you’ll have to walk.”

“G-got it.” You’re still uneasy, veering off to the side occasionally and nearly smacking into Laila when the wind catches you. Just when you’re starting to get dizzy from your wacky steering, a warm hand closes around your arm. Jimin smiles at you, this time not with humor but with care, and you feel yourself relax. Pulling you closer to his body, he helps you balance in order to fly straight, offering tips and holding on tight for support. Even after you’ve gotten the hang of it, he holds your hand and stays close to you.

Traveling across the meadow takes far longer than you expected and by the time you reach the first town, you’re already tired. Alva lands several meters away from the tree line, turning abruptly to face you. “We’re about to enter the shrubs. This town is full of friendly faces so it shouldn’t be too hard to spot spies, but stay on the lookout. Laila and I have to meet up with an ally in one of the shops; once we get there, stay outside in the area and try not to look suspicious.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Folding your arms, you wait for a response, but Alva simply shrugs and continues ahead.

“Just try not to bother anyone.” Laila says softly, avoiding your eyes as she speeds up to walk in front of you.

As soon as you enter the shrubs, hundreds of eyes zero in on the unfamiliar faces of you and Jimin. Some greet the fairies as they pass farther in front of you, but seem to burn holes in your back when you walk by, squeezing the hand of your boyfriend at the horrifying bugs that are now very close to your size. Ants and worms, caterpillars and centipedes all roam freely on the dense floor, chewing on fertile dirt and decaying leaves, carrying on with their lives all around you. None seem particularly threatening, but that doesn’t stop your hands from becoming incredibly sweaty in Jimin’s palm.

“I’ll protect you.” He whispers, though his voice shakes in uncertainty.

“How? There’s no way you can fight any of these things!” You whisper back through gritted teeth. Your eyes are so focused on trying not to lose sight of the women in front of you that you don’t notice the roots sticking up from the ground and trip noisily over one of them. Jimin reaches out with lightning fast reflexes and catches you before you come crashing to the ground, offering you a cheesy smile when your wide eyes lock on his before pulling you back up to your feet.

“I don’t need to fight them, I just need to save you from yourself.” You pout at his words, feeling your cheeks get hot at how embarrassing that fall must have looked. Even though you’re surrounded by bugs, you still have your pride.

Finally, Alva and Laila enter a shop, giving you a meaningful glance before disappearing inside. Jimin leads you just a little bit past the store before finding a spot to stand just opposite of its entrance so you can watch for their exit, pulling you against him as he leans against a mushroom. You take this time to take in your surroundings: the ceiling of this area is made of the dense leaves and vines of shrubs, yet it isn’t dark. Instead, everything is lit by glow-in-the-dark fungi that is speckled above and below you. Large mushrooms, like the one you sit beneath, grow in bundles in the darker places, their smell humid and pungent like a room full of mold. It tickles your nostrils and you sneeze, causing a movement from behind you.

“Oh!” Calls a voice that appears out of seemingly nowhere. Jimin moves you defensively away from the person, turning to confront them as they step from behind the fungus’ stem. “I wouldn’t sit under this if I were you. It’s smell can be quite intoxicating after a while and may cause hallucinations to those who aren’t used to it.” A male fairy steps forward, coated in Fairy Dust and naked just like your guides had been. The only difference is that he is covered in spores. This doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He eyes both you and Jimin up and down, smiling oddly at your appearance. “New around here?”

“Yes.” You answer hesitantly, but he seems nice enough.

“I can sense that you’re not fairies... Hmm, where are you from?” Just as you open your mouth to speak, Jimin cuts in.

“We’re just visiting. Who are you?”

“Ah, yes! I’m a mushroom fairy, the name’s Bayard.” He extends a hand and you shake it despite Jimin’s weary expression. “I work here and tend to the mushrooms that light this place. We don’t get visitors often, welcome!”

“Thank you! We’re actually heading to the water, do you have any helpful advice for us?” Alva and Laila said that this place was full of friends, so you want to take a chance. He seems kind and helpful and the two of you are absolutely clueless in your environment, so you figure it would be beneficial to get all the help you can get. The hand holding yours tightens, but you ignore it to listen to the fairy’s advice.

“Oh, I’ve never been to the water before, but I heard it’s pretty dangerous over there now. I say it’d be smart to invest in a weapon if you’re heading over that way.” He nods solemnly. “You can probably get one at the shop over there,” He points to a small stall next to the store your comrades entered and you sag.

“We don’t have any money, though.” You pout, using your charms on him.

“Money? Nah, you just need something to trade for it, that’s all. Here, since you seem so sweet I’ll give you something, wait here.” Bayard flies up to the head of the mushroom and you watch in awe as he collects something from its surface before coming back down to hand you 2 bags. “These are the hallucinogenic spores I was talking about. They’re worth a lot, so you should be able to trade it easily, but you could use it for your own benefit.”

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently, making him chuckle.

“Well, a good whiff of it might lead to a wild night, if you catch my drift.” He winks at Jimin and your face bursts into flames at the implications, and you can see that Jimin has a similar reaction. Bayard laughs heartily, clapping his hand together in a plume of spores that you wave away from your face. “I’m only pulling your leg. But seriously,” His expression drops so fast that a chill runs up your spine, all humor wiped from his eyes. “This is some powerful stuff. One bag of this is enough to knock out something 10x our size, so be careful. I gave you 2 bags in case you need to buy more stuff, but please, handle with care.”

“We will.” You nod, giving your bag for Jimin to hold. “Thank you so much, Bayard, this is very generous of you.”

He grins shyly. “Don’t mention it. If you ever need a friend, you know where to find me. Good luck on your travels, I gotta get back to work.” He waves you off as he disappears back behind the bundle of mushrooms, hidden in the deep shadows they cast.

“I think we should be more careful with who we talk to, (Y/n).” Jimin whispers, following you as you walk toward the shop. “We can’t tell everyone our business, they could be spies!”

“I know, but I could tell he wasn’t. Plus, he turned out to be really helpful, so everything worked out.”

“Yeah, but we could have just gotten lucky this time. This is real life, babe, you need to be more careful. You shouldn’t talk to everyone like that.” He argues back, tugging on your arm to stop you before you reach the stall. You turn to look him in the eyes.

“But if we didn’t talk to him, it would have been suspicious. We can’t go around looking nervous and jumpy because then people will start thinking we’re up to something (which we kinda are). I was just blending in.” The determined look in your eye makes him pause and he can no longer argue. Dammit, he’s always so weak when you look at him like that. And you’re so beautiful in this lighting, your eyes shining back at him and the structure of your face contoured perfectly with the subtle shadows. You’re right and he has no choice but to accept it, even if he does have more to say. You can see the moment he drops it, his face softening with the slight nod he gives you as if admitting defeat. But you’re also weak to him when he looks down at you like that, like he wants to kiss you senseless and make you forget about whatever you disagreed about. You decide to compromise. “But I’ll be more careful from now on to make your job a little easier.”

He cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head cutely in confusion.

“You said you would protect me, right? It would be rude of me to jump headfirst into danger when I know you’ll jump right in after me.” You try to shrug indifferently but it comes off as flirty, pulling a smug smirk from him as you continue your way to the shop.

It costs a whole bag of the spores Bayard gave you to acquire a weapon. Jimin chooses a small blade that the shopkeeper explains is made with Fairy Dust and can cut through even the toughest bindings. He advises that you should only use it for self defense in extreme situations and gives him a sheath to saddle on the belt loops of his pants. The sight perplexes the shopkeeper, but he sends you on your way without question.

“I know you said you’d be more careful, but you have a penchant for trouble so we’ll probably find ourselves in some bad situations. But at least I can protect you properly now.” You wrinkle your nose at his accusation, but end up chuckling at the way he brandishes the blade as though in a heated battle.

Alva clears her throat as she glides past the two of you with a twitch of her wings, announcing her presence subtly as Laila follows swiftly after, pointedly trying not to look at you and accidentally being the most obvious one in the group. You linger for a few more moments with an embarrassed Jimin, asking the shopkeeper one more question about your purchase before making a smooth exit in the footsteps of your comrades. You’re a good distance away from the shrubs before you begin flying again, catching up with the two who wait for you at a nearby tree.

“Oh my goodness, that was so nerve wracking.” Laila sighs, biting her lip.

“Sorry that took so long, but we got some great intel on the enemy.” Jimin reaches for your hand again when you take off even though you’re infinitely better at flying now. You act like you aren’t affected as you try to listen to Alva’s words. “We’re about to pass a carcass so we’ll need to go around, but it has a spy checkpoint on each side so we’ll have to split up when we cross them to avoid suspicion. Be on the lookout for a shady looking ant and a really chunky maggot. Laila and I will do the talking, but don’t answer any of their questions in too much detail if they ask you directly.”

The way she lists off the warnings makes you sweat. What would happen if you got caught? Yes, this was a once in a lifetime adventure, but the danger is not lost on you. Jimin is right, this is real life and you could get seriously hurt or worse if things go south. You had to rescue their leader, this had to work because she is the only one that can return you to human size, and that realization settles uncomfortably in your stomach. Separating from Jimin only makes the feeling worse.

“We’ll be traveling together,” Alva informs you once you land, instructing Laila and Jimin where to meet. Your eyebrows crease with worry and you quickly grab his arm before he leaves.

When you don’t say anything, he gives you a soft smile, reading your eyes. “What happened to all that bravery you had back there?” He teases.

“I was confident because we were together. How can we look out for each other if we’re not together?” The only thing you can think of that’s worse than you getting captured, is if he got captured without you. It’s not just about him protecting you, you want to watch over him too.

“We’ll be fine. Alva and Laila will keep us safe.” They both nod at you.

“Yes, we’ll do everything in our power to keep you two safe.” Laila adds in her timid voice, glancing up at your eyes.

“Okay...” You reluctantly let go of him and watch them start to walk away. “Please be careful!” He sends you a thumbs up as he gets farther away. The starlight above you is partially covered by the trees, making this area much darker than the meadow had been. Fireflies flicker in the distance but it still isn’t bright enough to see him clearly as he continues on.

“Come on. The faster we go through this, the sooner you’ll be reunited.” For the first time, Alva offers words of consolation, and you’re almost shocked that she has sympathy for you. She mumbles in a quieter voice than usual. “I’m not thrilled about splitting from them either, but this is the safest way. If we all went through together, that would definitely raise some red flags.”

“Why couldn’t we just follow you like we did back there?” She scoffs.

“Not many newcomers cross these parts alone. You two would never make it past the spies without being noticed. Even with us, it’s a risk. I just hope Laila’s okay.” This is the first time you’ve actually seen her worried and for the second time in a row, you’re baffled. This entire time Alva has been hardened and crude, but now she seems almost as worried as you. You can’t help but ask.

“You seem to have a soft spot for her. Do you have feelings for her?” She knows you’re teasing by the lilt in your voice, and you see her wings twitch, something you’re beginning to notice that signifies her annoyance. Her eyes roll so hard you think they’ll get stuck in her head.

“Of course I have feelings for her. In human terms, we’re dating, why do you think we live together?”

“Oh!” You chuckle nervously, feeling a bit dumb. You saw only one bed in their home but thought little of it, and now much of their decor makes sense. There’s an awkward silence for a while and you can’t for the life of you think of anything else to talk about. You wish the ground beneath you would just open up and swallow you whole. Thankfully, she breaks the silence for you.

“We learned another important detail that I didn’t mention,” She waits until you glance over at her. “We found out that the stink bug king plans to marry our leader, so it would probably be smart for you to come up with a plan to intercept this.” You sigh in thought, turning your gears to come up with a plan.

The smell of the carcass is much worse than Jimin imagined, it hits them long before they reach the body. Laila leads him to the right side of the unidentifiable animal, a heap of fur, bones, and flesh in the middle stages of decomposition thanks to the abundance of bugs and fungi working diligently to break it down. They stop before the animal as Laila crafts 2 masks from her own bag of Fairy Dust, handing one to him to reduce the horrific smell as they trek on. He tries to ignore the sounds of the ecosystem feasting on its prey, and thankfully his partner offers a distraction.

“I know you’re worried about your girlfriend, but Alva will protect her. And I will protect you.” He notices that she easily makes eye contact with him, unlike before. “Stink bugs aren’t vicious, they’re just resilient and armored, making them tough to beat. But hopefully we won’t have to fight.”

“I know she’ll be alright, I have faith in her. She probably won’t get caught by the spy, she’s too smart for that.” His words are genuine, yet his heart still races at the possibilities. A darkness eclipses his face that she catches onto immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is so gentle that he has no problem opening up to her.

“If she gets captured or hurt it’ll be my fault. I brought her out to the meadow to have a romantic date, but instead it ended up putting her in danger. We should have stayed at the campsite.”

“No.” Laila says firmly, causing him to yank his head up in surprise. “If anything, this is my fault. I chose you because you were the only ones around that could help us, but I could have left you alone. If anything happens, I am to blame.” He says nothing to this, not quite accepting it, but she seems steadfast so he won’t argue. “I apologize for not asking sooner, but what is your name?”

“Jimin.”

“And what is hers?”

“(Y/n)~” He says your name almost dreamily compared to his own, a smile subconsciously finding its way to his lips. She grins.

“Do you love her?” Laila doesn’t seem to be the blunt type, but this is obviously amusing. Especially with the way his ears color red at that one question.

“I- I don’t know if I know what love is,” is his response.

“I think you do. I see how you look at her, how you smile when you think of her, the way that you say her name with such delicacy; I bet you don’t even realize how lovestruck you look when she’s around.” Jimin turns away from her to avoid her eyes, bringing a hand to his warming cheeks. He mumbles something under his breath. “I know because that’s how I am with Alva and I love her very much.”

“Alva? Wait, are you-?”

“Yes, she is my girlfriend.” The confirmation makes his jaw drop, some pieces falling together just as they had for you. “Never be embarrassed by your feelings, they can be a source of power at times like these. It is because you love her so much that I know you’d do anything to keep her safe, and I have no doubt that she is exactly the same way. This mission will be a success, I can feel it. You should tell her how you really feel when this is all over.”

“Oh... I don’t know about that. What if she doesn’t feel the same way...”

“She’s intelligent, compassionate, outgoing, brave, charming, and above that, so beautiful that everyone around takes notice— a woman like that can be pretty intimidating. But trust me, she loves you too. Though I haven’t known you two for long, I can see how her body language changes with you, that sparkle in her eyes whenever you interact. She’s just as lovesick for you as you are for her. But I won’t pressure you.”

Laila is a lot wiser and more perceptive than he originally expected. She hadn’t looked you in the eye much— which he now knows is because you intimidate her more than her own intense girlfriend does— but it seems she’s picked up on a lot about both of you in this short time. Maybe her observations are right and you do love him back. But this feels like an inappropriate time to confess to you, so he decides he’ll keep it in for now.

As he’s ruminating on that idea, a huge tan bug crawls in front of them, blocking their path with its large body. Upon closer inspection, Jimin comes to the conclusion that it is a maggot, and it is indeed very “chunky”. It’s at least 3x his size, towering over them and angling it’s head in their direction. He can’t see its eyes, but it apparently can see them, turning its attention to Laila.

“It’s been a while, Laila. Haven’t seen you around these parts lately.” The breath that billows out from its mouth is even more rancid than the corpse it was feasting on, the stench so pointed that it slices through the barrier of their masks. It almost brings tears to Jimin’s eyes as he tries to refrain from gagging.

“Yes, well, I’ve been busy in the meadow, so I haven’t had the time to come out this far.” She replies easily, not the slightest quiver in her voice present. The maggot hums.

“And who is this?” Turning to face Jimin, it gives an interested tilt of the head and leans in closer, its pincers coming just inches away from his face. The smell is vile, beyond sickening, and if it were to have a color, he’s sure it’s breath would be the most impure black sludge— yes, sludge, because it is too thick to be a gas— imaginable. As black as death itself. The most he can do is hold his breath.

“He is simply visiting the area. We’re just passing through.” Laila answers, but it hisses at her to hush.

“Visiting? What business do you have visiting here?” The hairs on the back of Jimin’s neck stand straight, every cell in his body telling him to run, yet he stands frozen. The pincers in front of his face are large enough to bite his head off and he gets the sense that if he doesn’t say something convincing, that’s exactly what his fate will be.

“I’m visiting my cousin.” He rasps out, his head feeling light from running out of air.

“What cousin?”

“Um, h-his name is Bayard. He’s a mushroom fairy that lives in the shrubs.” At this the maggot leans away, finally allowing Jimin to take a breath of the slightly less offensive air.

“Bayard, huh?” He nods quickly, watching nervously as the insect snaps its jaws in thought. Does it know him? If it does, there’s a chance that Jimin will be caught in his lie, that somehow it will know that Bayard does not have any visiting relatives and that he’s not who he says he is. He and Laila share a tense stare as the bug takes a few seconds to process before it bursts into laughter. “He’s a crazy bastard, isn’t he?” They sigh in relief and Jimin nods along, forcing out a laugh. “Why isn’t he showing you around? I would’ve loved if he came to visit, I don’t get to see him often.”

“Oh you know, he’s busy working. You know how he is about his mushrooms.” They laugh again and the air seems to get a bit thinner.

“Ah, well, we’ll tell him you said hello. For now, though, we must get going.” Laila interrupts, much to his relief. The hefty maggot walks forward, opening the path for them once again and nods its head at them.

“Safe travels!” It wishes them well as they pass, watching as they continue around the side of the carcass, no longer conversing with each other but making headway straight out of the area. It isn’t until they reach the rendezvous point that Laila finds the courage to speak again, holding both hands over her chest as if she were in pain.

“That was close. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Then she tilts her head and looks up at him quizzically. “How do you know of Bayard, anyway?”

“(Y/n) befriended him in the last town.” Jimin rubs the back of his neck, thinking back to how upset he was about you speaking to strangers like that and how silly he looks now. Without you, he wouldn’t have made it out of that situation. Maybe he should have more faith in your instincts— they may just be your way of protecting him.

It takes several minutes before you and Alva emerge from your side of the animal. Alva is nodding at you, looking apprehensive, but you seem determined and sure.

“Let’s not tell Jimin, though. He probably won’t approve.” You whisper to her just out of earshot before you reach them, smiling in relief when you see that they made it here safely. You didn’t encounter your spy, though you did see him interrogating someone else who was passing through, and when you tell him this he shakes his head at the rare good luck you’ve just experienced. He tells you about the Bayard lie as you wrap your arms around him briefly and you laugh in a way that says “I told you so”— and it is then that he notices the look that Laila was talking about. The one you give him when you’re hanging onto every word he says like it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard. His heart flutters at the thought. Laila and Alva share a meaningful look but say nothing, coaxing you onward with your journey.

This place has a worse atmosphere than the carcass you just passed, you can feel it. Supposedly, this is the last obstacle in your path before you reach the water, and even Alva seems on edge about what lies ahead. A fallen log stands before you, decaying and riddled with plant-life, fungus, and insects. Hostility leaks from every crevice of the black wood, the breeze itself seeming to carry a sneer as it blows past it.

“Okay, a word of advice before we continue,” Alva begins, slowing her pace in order to turn and face you as you fly. “Unlike the shrubs, this place is full of shady characters, so do not stop to talk to anyone or anything. That being said, keep your eyes peeled as we pass through, the creatures here will feast on anything that moves— and that includes you.”

“Also,” Laila casts her eyes down away from you. “Your wings will likely start to disintegrate soon. We’ll have to fly through this area because we’ll be too slow on foot, therefore putting us in more danger. The wings should last long enough to make it out of here if we fly, but it will be close, so we can’t have any interruptions or stops.” You both nod grimly, biting on your lip as a dark feeling swells within you.

It’s a gut feeling that alerts you to the danger up ahead, and you mindlessly reach for Jimin’s hand for comfort. He doesn’t seem to be as nervous aside from the warnings the two of them explain, and you wonder if you’re being paranoid.

“Why can’t we just fly over or around it?” You ask, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. Alva gives you a frustrated sigh before explaining once again how closely the skies are monitored, going against your plan to slip through undetected. But you can hardly say that this route is any safer.

It’ll be easy to stay out of trouble if you just stay off the ground though, right? Fly over the heads of everyone and make it out of this area before any real damage can be done. You cling onto that ideal as you watch Laila and Alva enter the center of the log, moving slowly until you and Jimin follow behind them.

“Please stay close to me.” You whisper to him— more like a plea because of the growing anxiety building in the pit of your stomach, your gut feeling worsening as you near the entrance.

“I will. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead, but even that doesn’t help you shake this feeling.

It’s dark and muggy within the rotting wood, the lack of light contrasting even with the dimness of the night sky. Glowing fungi are speckled against the walls of the log, but it is nowhere near as bright as it had been in the shrubs, leaving many areas cloaked in shadows. Jimin holds onto you tightly, his other hand feeling for the blade equipped to his pants. Your nervousness is unsettling; he can feel how cold and clammy your hands have become, the slight tremor of your body as your heart races within. He wishes he could reassure you, but you have amazing instincts and he doubts anything he says could contest against the physical reaction you’re exhibiting at this moment. All he can do is prepare himself.

The fairies in front of you seem to shine against the blackness, making them easy to follow. You execute your plan for flying as high as possible in the somewhat cramped tunnel, almost scraping your head against the ceiling in your effort to avoid the crude faces that crawl underneath. Insects hide in the crevices of the jagged walls, disturbed and squirming as you whoosh past their lairs. Something about them makes you think they’re blind, but you wouldn’t know for sure since you won’t give yourself enough time to inspect them.

Something brushes your arm when the tunnel narrows, causing you to gasp and jerk embarrassingly only to realize that it was just soft moss. You give a sheepish look to Jimin when he turns to you. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy.” So far, you haven’t encountered anything of noteworthy danger and you’re almost halfway through the log, and you start to think that maybe you were just being paranoid.

As you move along, the wood gets denser and the pathways become smaller, only allowing one person at a time. Laila’s wings are still visible due to the waning light, but you’ll have to fly faster if you want to keep an eye on them, so Jimin flies ahead of you since he’s generally faster and better at flying than you. Reluctantly, you release his hand and follow close behind, blind to what lies in front of you and solely relying on him to guide you forward.

“You okay?” He asks quietly, unable to turn and look at you.

“Yeah, keep going.” Is your quiet response, trailing right on his heels. “Can you still see them?”

“Just barely. Let’s try to go a little faster, I don’t think our wings will last too much longer.” Jimin can sense how his body seems to feel heavier on his wings. The transparent material of them is getting thinner and he isn’t sure how much longer they’ll be able to hold him up before they become unusable.

“Okay, I can keep up.” Picking up the pace, you start to feel less weary of the life around you. Nothing seems interested in your presence as you float by and that’s exactly how you like it.

The path opens up into a hollow section, allowing you more space, and you shift to the left of Jimin in order to see around him briefly. You intended to catch a glimpse of your guides, laser focusing your eyes in front of you so intensely that your surroundings are forgotten. Jimin remains in your peripheral as you squint through the darkness, but in an instant, he zips by and leaves you behind. Confused, you turn around to see if you got snagged on something and find yourself losing your balance and landing on something sticky. Long threads form a net around you and it dawns on you that they are the cause of your immobility— so naturally, you try to shake free from them, only to find that the more you struggle, the more parts of you become stuck. You barely have any time to process what this could possibly mean before several long legs emerge from the corner of your eye.

“It looks like there’s light up ahead. We’re almost out, (Y/n)!” Jimin smiles in relief, eyes still watching for the pair of wings that flutter several centimeters ahead. But when you don’t respond, his eyebrows crease. “(Y/n)?” Before he can even turn around, a blood curdling scream rips through his ears, the voice sounding alarmingly similar to yours. He spins around and immediately notices that you are no longer right behind him. How long have you been gone?! He races backwards toward the source of the scream, fear and worry bubbling in his chest with every second it takes to reach you as you let out another deafening scream.

The first thing he sees is the underside of an enormous body with 8 hairy legs protruding menacingly from its center. They splay out methodically to walk the thin cords beneath it with the expertise of a tight rope walker, graceful, long, and elegant in the most wretched way. Next, he spots you, placed in the center of its legs, completely caged in and frozen by the sheer size of the arachnid above you and shaking in terror. Jimin’s eyes drag up to find 8 odd black orbs locked on yours, sitting just above open jaws aimed directly at you. Before he can even stop himself, he’s calling out your name.

“(Y/n)!” It’s more of a reaction of surprise, but it catches the attention of the spider, who looks up from its prey with glazed eyes. But he is not the one that’s caught in its web, so it quickly returns its interest to you.

“Jimin?!” You cry out with an unsteady voice.

“I’m here, baby! Just stay calm.”

“How?!” You can’t see him because of how your back is facing his direction, but you can hear how panicked he sounds. He knows that spiders are your weakness. You suffer from mild arachnophobia and he’s sure that encountering a spider that is many times larger than you and moments away from eating you is intensifying that fear unimaginably. He has to think fast.

The first thing he can think of is to distract it, so he breaks off a piece of wood and taps it to the web, sending vibrations that catch the attention of the previously uninterested insect. It glances over with curiosity before making its way to the other side of the web to inspect the swinging wood chip that is now attached to the threads on one end. Taking this opportunity, Jimin runs over to you and pulls out his knife, praying to everything that it is holy that it really can cut anything. If this fails, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He tries to break one of the threads with a quick slice, but when he brings the knife down, it promptly bounces off as though he had hit a steel wire, instead sending more vibrations that bring the spider back over to you. It hisses loudly, likely upset that he’s trying to steal its dinner, and it lunges at him with its fangs, barely missing him through the web. He falls backwards, but catches himself with his wings unsteadily.

He tries the same method again and again, shaking the already stuck stick to lure the spider over, then swinging his blade at the thick bindings that refuse to release you, to no avail.

“It’s not working! And I don’t have enough time to break the web because of the spider!” He’s clearly distressed, using all his force to push down and break the web that has the integrity of metal. Spider webs break easily to a human, but it’s an entirely different monster when you’re this small. This knife, this stupid knife that cost him an entire bag of spores is doing absolutely nothing, and his frustration grows with each slice.

Wait, that’s it!

“Jimin, the spores! Do you still have them?” The words come out hurried and jumbled, but miraculously he understands.

“Yeah, why?” He looks up at you, but swiftly jumps out of the way when the spider returns. This time it won’t leave you, guarding your body from the intruder, repeatedly striking and hissing at him to leave. The wings that hold Jimin up are weakening, he has to hurry or he won’t be able to reach you from the ground.

“Throw them on the spider! Bayard said that one bag is enough to ‘knock out something 10x our size’, you can use it to buy time and cut me out!” As you’re explaining, Jimin reaches for the pouch in his pocket, opening it to look at the small particles piled up inside. He isn’t sure if it’ll work as well as you hope but he has to try, so with only a second of hesitation, he looks back up at the colossus on top of you.

“Hold your breath.” Once he hears you inhale, the bag of spores is flung straight into the face of the spider, some getting in its mouth, most of it landing on and around its head, caught in the hairs that line its body. Your eyes close as they float around you, but you can feel how the spider stumbles back in shock, trying to shake the particles from itself. Jimin immediately gets to work with the knife, trying a sawing approach this time with every bit of hope poured into his efforts. Thankfully, the string breaks with just 2 back and forth motions, loosening the integrity of the web just the slightest bit. He works fast, snapping each connection around you until you’re falling backwards into his arms and away from the staggering monster.

He grabs your arm and pulls you along as you attempt to gather yourself, flying as best you can with the few unbroken strands still stuck to your wings, but you won’t let that stop you now.

“We’re not gonna make it, our wings are-“ You try to say, but Jimin cuts you off.

“There’s light up ahead, we just have to make it there.” Fairy Dust has begun to fall from both of your wings, leaving a shimmering trail behind you as you push them to their limit. They can barely carry you an inch off the ground now, but that’s all you need as long as you make it to the light. But of course, it’s never that easy. As if on cue, the spider comes barreling through the log from behind, its eyes crossed and confused as it swerves up the sides of the tunnel in pursuit of you, its legs scraping the dead wood and causing crackling and falling pieces avalanching down.

You scream, pushing yourself even harder to escape your doom, ducking under protruding chunks and narrow openings desperately. You know the feeling when something’s chasing you and you feel like it’s just a step away at all times just teasing you, waiting to grab you, and you can swear you feel them breathing down your neck no matter how far back they are? Yeah, this is one of those situations. Except the spider actually is just a step away, and the only reason it hasn’t caught you yet is because of the spores in its lungs. It lunges forward aggressively, just barely missing you and grazing the side of your right arm— had its aim been any better, you surely would be dead. It hallucinates several versions of you flying before its eyes, your screams echoing off the walls and damaging its overwhelmed senses. It stumbles, using its front leg to reach for you and barely missing your side with the razor edge of its claws, a feature you hadn’t known existed until now. But the claws are very real and your torn shirt is proof.

The light that Jimin was talking about suddenly emerges, the dim starlight seeming as bright as the sun compared to the dark that engulfed you within this black wood, and for a moment, hope sparks in your chest. But your heart drops to your stomach when both of you suddenly fall to the floor, your wings finally giving out as they continue to disappear. You scramble to your feet and take the lead, glancing back at the spider that is squeezing his way through the tiny opening you and Jimin managed to slip through, spitting foul noises at you out of rage.

“Up here!” Shelf fungi line the walls, creating a convenient ladder up to the top of the log that you climb, finding strength you never knew you had to pull yourself up each one. Jimin is close behind, pushing at your feet when you struggle near the top, but his eyes widen at the sight of the spider with half of its body through the opening, its legs flailing and scratching to pull itself through. The mushrooms end just a body length from the ledge of the log, your freedom just fingertips away, but you can’t reach from your height and you don’t have the strength to pull yourself all the way up.

Jimin nudges you out of the way, the adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins allowing him to jump up and grab hold of the ledge and pull himself up, disappearing on the other side; and for a moment you fear that he’ll leave you here. You gasp when your eyes meet the dizzy ones of your pursuer, it’s body nearly free, and panic rises within you like never before.

“(Y/n)!” Jimin calls, and you look up to find his hands reaching down to grab you, his hair and the top of his forehead the only thing visible. Without wasting another second, you jump up and grab his hands, and with strained grunts, he helps pull you up to his level on the outside of that Hell. “Where do we go now?”

You’re high up, really high, and it’s a long way down without your wings. Honestly, you hadn’t thought this far, but now isn’t the time to stop and think, not when you hear the sound of splintering wood and hissing beneath you. Jimin follows as you run forward, looking to the end of the timber suspiciously.

“(Y/n), what’s your plan here?!” The edge is nearing alarmingly fast and it looks to him like you intend to run right off the side. He wishes he could say that he was thinking of a plan too, but his mind becomes blank with terror the moment the spider re-emerges from the opening. It takes a few seconds to find you before chasing, its speed significantly slower now thanks to the spores, but it is enough to drive you forward with no hope of turning back. Leaving the only option to jump off the side. But you couldn’t be thinking that, there’s no way, because from this height you’d both break your legs from the landing, at best.

“Do you trust me?” You ask, your eyes determined. You can’t be thinking what he thinks you are. But despite his worries, he answers without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You pull out the whistle stored away in your pocket and blow, the noise barely audible over the bustle of the night. You blow into it again, this time longer, but nothing happens and the ledge is right in front of you. The skies are empty, few bugs crossing your paths as you come to a stop and look around, the creaking wood below your feet mocking you as you stand still. “Are you sure you trust me?” Jimin nods. “We need to jump.”

“Jump?!” He’s not sure he heard you right. But then again, what choice does he have? The spider seems drunk behind you, clumsily galloping toward you with eyes that look through you, and if it doesn’t eat you it’ll surely smack directly into you and push you off the cliff, spelling your doom either way. Jimin watches as you blow the whistle again and step closer to the edge, looking down at the drop with that determined look he’s seen so many times. You’re serious. But you haven’t been wrong yet, so with a deep breath, he steps up next to you. “I trust you.”

He doesn’t say this with a tone that holds doubt, it's a definitive statement. And that makes you smile. Even if you are leading him to your deaths, you know Jimin has his full faith in you, so you take his hand and pray that this works. On your count, you both jump, your lips on the whistle that you continue to blow. As air rushes past your face, you squeeze Jimin’s hand and search your surroundings during the slowest, most uncertain seconds of your life.

Suddenly, a flash of green and red appears with lightning speed and before you know it, you’re landing on the hard back of the creature with a force strong enough to drop her a couple of inches and rip your hand out of Jimin’s. He lands straight in the center of Garnet’s back, but you skid off the side, grabbing at the smooth surface of her body helplessly. But Jimin has quick reflexes and latches onto your arm, using his strength for the second time to pull you onto Garnet’s back. You secure your arms around him tightly as he holds the reins and tells her to take you to Alva and Laila, who are probably already out of the log and waiting for you. Hopefully she can understand what he’s asked. Looking up, you catch sight of the spider just as it careens off the edge of the wood, following you blindly with now uncontrolled limbs and foggy eyes, it’s body narrowly missing you as it falls all the way to the ground, crumpled into an unconscious heap. That uneasy feeling in your stomach almost immediately subsides, and you tighten your arms around your boyfriend with a sigh of relief, burying your face in his shoulder and breathing in his scent to calm your pounding heart.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” His worry is heavy and it warms you.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” It’s probably just the shock, but you feel oddly at ease. You know that later— maybe tomorrow— you’ll be freaking out about your worst nightmare nearly coming true if it weren’t for Jimin. “Thank you for saving me.”

Your surroundings are serene, the night air warm and soothing. The landscape is pretty from this perspective. Full of hidden terrors and thrills, everything looking so peaceful despite you nearly losing your life moments ago.

“I said I would protect you.” He smiles cockily, and you giggle into his shirt. “But seriously, you did most of the work. We make a great team; let’s keep working together.” If Jimin was being honest, he doesn’t think he’d be able to save you if it wasn’t for your quick wit. His brain is no good in times of trial, he freezes up mentally, and though he jumps into action without a second thought, he rarely has the capacity to come up with an effective plan. You are certainly the brains of the operation, and the more he thinks about it, the more attractive your intelligence becomes. He wouldn’t want to be in this situation with anyone else in the world, and he means that with his whole heart.

When Garnet lands, Laila runs over to you, helping you and Jimin off her back with care and concern. She looks you over, gasping at the tear in your shirt. “What happened?! You disappeared toward the end and we heard screams, but Alva said we couldn’t go back. I was so worried for you! Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

You explain what happened bashfully, feeling embarrassed that you were the one to screw up the plan, but neither of the fairies seem upset by it.

“We’re just glad you made it out alright.” Alva reassures in a rare moment of sentiment.  “Do you still have the Fairy Dust?”

Thankfully, the bag remains untouched and secure around your waist. You weren’t thinking about it during that near death experience, but you’re glad that it wasn’t lost in all the action. After Laila takes the time to physically examine you to make sure you actually weren’t hurt, they lead you ahead to the last leg of your journey.

Though they had talked at length about the stink bugs’ fortress, you were completely unprepared by the sheer number of bugs that were involved. You were forced to go the rest of the way on foot and had the chance to see the change in landscape that came as you neared the water. Where you would expect luscious plant growth you were instead met with hole riddled leaves and weeds, plants wilting with eaten roots, and scarred fruit littering the area, much different from the land closer to the meadow. Laila explains that these bugs are rapidly expanding their feeding grounds and will soon take over this side of the stream, and the thought sends a chill up your spine. But it isn’t until the water is in sight that you see the perpetrators of all this damage.

It’s almost like a swarm of bugs appears out of thin air once you cross a certain threshold, all of them crawling from under rocks and holes in the ground, flying up from plants where they were once hidden, and disgusted chills overcome you again at the sight of them. Jimin steps closer to you, putting an arm out in front of your body protectively when they form a wall in front of the 4 of you.

Laila steps forward, walking up to meet one bug that stands in the center of them all. She communicates with it for a few seconds, again amazing you with her lingual skills, and when she’s done, it turns away and flies in the opposite direction, leaving its army to stand guard. You don’t know what she said, or what is even happening right now as you seem to be standing in a stalemate, so you decide to ask.

“Was that the leader?” You whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the tension and prompt fighting with the soldiers ahead of you.

“No,” Alva answers, looking at her girlfriend’s back as she stands strong. “That’s only a messenger. I think she has asked to speak directly to the leader and the messenger agreed.”

“You think?” Jimin questions, tilting his head.

“Yeah, Alva, why don’t you know how to speak to bugs? Isn’t that a power you fairies have?” You join, blinking at her innocently.

“No it’s not some inherent power all fairies have, it’s a skill. A skill that I do not possess.”

“Well why not? I think it would be useful to learn.” You nod in agreement to Jimin’s words.

“Laila could probably teach you! Hey, babe, did you know they’re dating?” You ask excitedly, ignoring the winged woman to converse with your own significant other, but she cuts in quickly.

“This isn’t about me!” Her wings flick and you both stop talking, wordlessly returning your attention to the front where the bug returns with another creature in tow.

“Why the long look, Laila? Aren’t you glad to see me?” The voice of a man cuts through the air and you look up to find a thin fairy fluttering toward you, landing a few steps away from your comrade as she glares intensely at him. He’s colored brown similarly to the bugs he commands, but he is so twig-like that you could mistake him for a stick insect with wings. His features are as undefined as every other fairy you’ve encountered so far, but you can still tell he’s grinning by the way he opens his arms merrily.

“That’s their leader?” You whisper to your boyfriend, who looks on with the same shocked expression you wear.

“I have no desire to see your face.” Laila spits, shocking you even further. “You kidnapped Nissa, you do not deserve my kindness.”

“Is that so?” His arms drop to his sides. “Then, what brings you here, oh fair and beautiful warrior?” She visibly cringes at his words, Alva also wrinkling her face at his unwanted compliments.

“We’ve come to negotiate for our leader,” Alva speaks up, stepping closer to him to draw his attention. He scoffs, saying something about the two women not being allowed into his territory in order to negotiate, but she stands firm. “That is why we have brought ambassadors with us this time; surely, they are not banned as well?” His eyes then shift to yours, squinting at you and Jimin with a perplexed look. It’s probably the clothes that are throwing him off, you think.

“And what have they come to offer me? Will my sweet Laila finally trade herself in for her leader and become my bride?” A goofy smile crosses his lips, but it’s quickly wiped away with your next words.

“No, I will. I’ll become your bride in exchange for their leader.”

“What?” Jimin turns to you so fast that you think he’ll give himself whiplash, staring at you in disbelief. He must have heard you incorrectly, why would you say something like that? Placing his hands on your shoulders, he turns you to look at him, checking your face for any hints of a lie. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious, Jimin.” You say, looking back at his eyes. “If I offer myself to him, then Nissa will be free to go and there’s a chance for this place to be saved.”

“Yeah, but... we’re not even fairies. We don’t belong here. Why would you trade your own freedom for them?”

“Just because we aren’t one of them, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything in our power to help them. Their situation is hopeless without us, I can’t just sit here and let them suffer— not when I can do something about it.” It’s not that Jimin didn’t want to help them, it’s just that he’s not willing to give you up in exchange. And yes, all of your plans have worked so far, but this is going a little overboard.

“I want to help them too, but isn’t there another way?”

“This is the best way.” You say resolutely.

“But I can’t let you, (Y/n)! I can’t let you live with bugs for the rest of your life. Forget that, I can’t let you marry anyone else! I want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with— I love you! And I’m not willing to give you up for anything.” Your heart skips at his confession, your resolve wavering for a second. He’s never said anything like that to you before and it almost makes you dizzy with emotion. “I said I would keep you safe through all of this, and if we learned anything throughout this experience it’s that we need to work as a team, so it would be irresponsible of me to let you go through with this. Don’t forget, this is real life, no matter how surreal it seems, and you have a life to go back to after this.” His eyes are pleading, but you’ve already decided on this.

“You said you trusted me.” You say quietly, lip in a straight line.

“I do, but-“

“Do you trust me?” You ask again, his mouth left open with unspoken words. He takes a moment to answer, dropping his head.

“Yes.”

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing. We’re still a team, babe, I can’t do this without you. Go save their leader and trust that I’ll be okay. I have a feeling that everything will turn out well in the end.” Though his heart is hurting, Jimin let’s go of your shoulders, frowning deeply with conflicting emotions swimming in his eyes. For who?, he wants to ask, but he can’t say anything more.

“Now that I look at you, you are quite pretty.” The fairy walks up to you, bowing and kissing your hand. “Hello, I’m Hix. And you are?”

“(Y/n).” You reply simply, his lips feeling ticklish on your hand like when the wings were being attached to your back.

“And what are you, exactly?” He directs the question to both you and Jimin, but Laila answers.

“Humans. From a distant land.” Her arms are crossed and she’s still giving him the most disgusted look possible, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve never seen a human before... they must be rare. Esteemed much higher than a fairy leader.” Hix thinks aloud, a finger on his chin. After a few seconds of deliberation, he comes to the conclusion that this is a worthy trade. “Come with me. We can discuss this further once we’re inside.”

“What about him?” You point to Jimin and Hix pauses, raising an eyebrow.

“What about him?” He asks incredulously.

“He should come with us. He’s my... assistant.” You say slowly, hoping the excuse works. None of this matters if Jimin isn’t welcome in the fortress with you. Hix accepts with little thought, leading you away with a short farewell to your fairy accomplices, but Alva pulls Jimin aside as he passes her.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)’s a smart girl and she can talk her way out of almost anything. She has a plan, just make sure you get Nissa out of there.” She leaves him with that as he follows you through the army of stink bugs, each of them dispersing once you reach the fortress.

His home is nothing to brag about, it doesn’t come close to the innovation and beauty of Laila and Alva’s place, but it is structurally sound and complex, so it has a few things going for it. It’s colors are of mud and dead plants, it’s foundations rooted in the bleak gray of smooth stones, and you find it to be quite depressing.

“Do you live here alone?” You ask. You can’t imagine staying in a place like this all by yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s so desperate to find a wife.

“Yes. I also built this place by myself, so it’s very personal.” The smile on his face is proud and your eyebrows scrunch in sympathy. He leads you two to a wide room before he remembers that Jimin is with you, turning abruptly to face him.

“You may leave us now, assistant.” He commands rudely, and you reach for Jimin’s hand just as he makes his exit.

“Here. Take this to her.” You whisper, slipping the bag of Fairy Dust to him discreetly. Of course, he’s reluctant to leave you alone with this strange fairy, but you seem confident so he’ll do his best for you. Since there is no one else around, not even guard bugs, he is free to roam the fortress, and he enters a hallway to begin the search for Nissa.

The building is much more complex than he expected. The hallways wind and most lead to dead ends, leaving him confused in a maze of empty, doorless rooms. Jimin finds that the fortress isn’t completely deserted, there were a few close calls with some bugs that were monitoring certain hallways, but after searching surrounding areas he comes to the conclusion that they must be guarding something important.

Maybe I can just walk past them? He thinks, biting his plush bottom lip as he spies on the occupied corridor from around the corner. He is a guest here after all. But what would he do if they questioned him, or worse, what if they attacked? Since he knows none of their language and he isn’t sure they can understand him, he goes with a stealth tactic.

Shimmying along the brown walls, Jimin moves as slowly as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself. There’s another turn up ahead, just before the entry way that the insects keep watch over, and the plan is to slip into it and cause a distraction in the opposite direction to get them to walk away. He thinks he’s seen that in a movie somewhere, but he’s praying it’ll work in real life. The halls are wide to accommodate the girth of the shelled backs of Hix’s soldiers and Jimin feels exposed, inching his way toward the opening and hoping they don’t spot him. Of course, the bugs are low to the ground, crawling around on all fours which would make his feet very easy to spot from their vantage point, but they appear to be talking with one another, their heads so small compared to their bodies that he can’t even see their mouths. They probably wouldn’t be able to do much if they did decide to attack, but he wouldn’t risk it to find out. He continues at his painstaking pace noiselessly, holding his breath to make 2 bold leaps into the opening, so close to them that the breeze from his motion causes them to look up.

They make a noise but make no attempts to investigate, and after a few silent seconds, Jimin throws out his distraction. The only thing he has on him is the whistle Laila gave him and the bag of Fairy Dust, so he fishes the small shiny tool out of his pocket and holds it in his palm, hoping dearly that he won’t need it in the future. He isn’t even sure Nissa is behind this door, so losing important items could be costly, but he has to trust himself. You’re counting on him after all. And you’d probably come up with a silly plan like this if you were in his situation too. He tries to have a little more faith. With 2 short deep breaths, Jimin gathers his courage and throws the whistle down the hall, snatching his head back behind the cover and closing his eyes when it clinks loudly against the dry walls. Now he’s caught—he’s sure— because they have to walk right past him to reach the noise and he tenses in preparation.

But miraculously, the plan works!

The pair of stink bugs crawl swiftly to the end of the corridor, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip into the now unguarded room. Upon entering, he sees what appears to be a normal bedroom, decorated nicely with windows that overlook the water and furniture that would make for comfortable living. But oddly, the room is unoccupied. Surely this would be where Hix would keep the fairy leader, unless this is his personal bedroom and he just has very feminine taste. But she’s nowhere to be found and disappointment curls around the pit of Jimin’s stomach. As a last effort, he calls out her name, wondering if she would be hiding somewhere.

“Nissa?” A few seconds go by and nothing happens, but just as he turns to leave, motion in the corner of the room startles him. Seeming to peel right from the wall itself is a figure, invisible at first glance, but slowly morphing into a distinguished body right before his eyes. Nissa changes color as she walks up to him, eying him suspiciously with every tentative step.

“Who are you?” Her voice is high but strong, her stance so intimidating that Jimin feels as though she were here to rescue him and not the other way around. She is most definitely a warrior.

“Uhm,” He clears his throat when his voice threatens to crack. “Alva and Laila sent me and my girlfriend here to help you escape. I-if you want to.”

She lets out a hearty laugh at that, her defensive posture slacking into something more relaxed and casual, and subconsciously Jimin’s body does the same. “I’ve been planning an escape for days, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” He wants to say something else, but instead he just stands awkwardly for a few seconds. Clearly, he isn’t as good with people as you are. “So, you’re human?”

“Yes.” He tilts his head at her and she grins.

“Laila must have done a pretty good job with the spell if you’re still in one piece.” His eyes widen as she walks past him, looking through the opening of the doorway.

“Why haven’t you escaped yet? The door’s wide open.” Actually there’s no door, but those are technicalities. He watches with interest as she presses her hand to the thin air, pulling it back sharply as though she had been shocked. But he’d just entered through there, there’s no way it could be sealed off.

“Hix sealed this room with magic. Don’t worry, though, it only works on fairies so you shouldn’t be affected by the barrier. My plan was to make the room look empty so he’d think I had already escaped, then to leave once he broke the barrier; but since you’re here I can use a different strategy.” Nissa turns to Jimin abruptly, her smooth features glowing brighter with an idea. “I need materials. Can you get them for me?”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Jimin gives her the bag of Fairy Dust that he had nearly forgotten about, and the relief on her face is clear once it’s in her possession. She thanks him, thinking quickly before nodding her head.

“Okay. I need a leaf and some wood. There should be a stash of leaves somewhere on the other side of this fortress and twigs scattered outside.” Just as Jimin goes to step out of the door, the guards return, stopping in front of the doorway without even glancing inside. He ducks behind the wall just to be sure, he and Nissa sharing a brief wide-eyed look. She grabs his wrist and wordlessly pulls him to the far side of the room, opening the bag of Fairy Dust he had just given her and pulling out a fist full. Jimin watches with fascination as she manipulates it between her hands, the consistency changing right before his eyes as she displays her mastery with the medium. Soon, it’s worked into a thin film and before he can react, she holds up her palms to him and blows into it like a bubble, the film stretching over his body from head to toe until he’s completely covered. Nissa pinches off the bubble, but it doesn’t pop. Instead, it tightens around him like a second skin, leaving him glistening and shiny with the odd texture of the material. “There.” She says proudly, grinning when he gives a ticklish shiver.

“What is this?” From what he can tell, nothing has changed except for the fact that he looks like he's wrapped in plastic.

“I just made you invisible. Now, you can leave without being noticed,” She explains, turning and pushing him toward the door. “They won’t be able to see what you’re holding when you’re like this, but they can still hear you, so be as quiet as possible. Now go, time is of the essence!”

Ever so carefully, Jimin steps out of the room and around the bugs. He presses himself to the wall, hoping that he doesn’t accidentally touch one of them or make a noise— he’s known to be pretty clumsy, so he needs to be extra careful. The hallways are fairly clear, he has an easy time making it to the other side of the fortress and gathering a leaf from what looks to be a break room of sorts. Next is the wood, and his plan is to slip outside, but just as he is passing by the large room that you’re in, he hears something curious.

“Ow!” You hiss, a scowl etched into your features as Hix prods you with a wooden staff. You appear to be frozen in place, your body unnaturally rigid, and telling by the shimmering quality of your clothes and skin, Hix probably cast some sort of spell on you.

“This is very interesting,” He hums, jabbing you in the back near your shoulder blades. “You look like you should have wings. They should be right here.” He drags the staff along your back, obviously perplexed. “Is this a genetic defect of some sort? You say you’re human?”

“Are you finished?” You ask impatiently, ignoring his questioning.

“I don’t entirely trust you yet. I need to make sure you aren’t just a fairy that’s trying to trick me to help Nissa escape. Even if you are who you say you are, there’s no guarantee that I’ll let her go. Surely I’ll gain some status if I have 2 wives. One who’s powerful and one that’s exotic.” He continues to circle you. Jimin fumes at that, ready to do something, but then you speak again.

“What’s your goal here?” You seem calm, and something tells him to wait.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you doing this? Why did you suddenly decide to kidnap Nissa and invade this area?” Hix debates whether or not he should tell you this or not, but in the end, opens up. There’s just something about you that makes people do that.

“The fairies treated me so poorly here. I was an outcast and everyone always excluded me, barely even considering me a fairy just because I had a knack for destroying things. Do you know how it feels to be rejected by your own people? Well I’ll tell you: it sucks. Most bugs didn’t even want to socialize with me, having heard rumors from the fairies about me and not even giving me a chance. I was sad and lonely and spiteful, so I decided that I’ll become powerful and gain control over this side of the water and force everyone to pay attention to me!”

“Is that what you want? Attention?”

“Yes. I want everyone to acknowledge me and see that I’m not worthless. If I control the waterway, I control everything. And if I have the fairy leader at my side as my wife, there’s no way anyone can ignore me anymore. I won’t have to be lonely or outcast, pushed to the corner where I’m out of sight and out of mind. My friends on the other side of the stream helped me realize that if I want to be happy, I need to be at the top.” He says this thoughtfully, placing his poking stick to the side and coming to stand in front of you.

“But this won’t make you happy. Sure, you’ll be married and may be able to control this area, but really, all you’ll have is a wife that doesn’t love you and a land full of people that hate you. They all know you kidnapped Nissa so she isn’t really on your side, and that your minions are destroying this place. The type of attention you’re getting from this isn’t the kind you want, trust me. It’s only confirming their thoughts about you.” He narrows his eyes at you, clearly disliking your reasoning.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” As the two of you stand face to face, Jimin decides to take this chance to creep over and steal Hix’s wooden stick. That way he won’t be able to poke you anymore and will inadvertently be aiding in his captive’s escape. Jimin hadn’t planned on staying to listen to your conversation, but what you say next makes him pause.

“What you need is to find real love and passion. I have someone that I love with my whole heart and I’ve been so happy since I met him. He’s a person that makes me feel brave, that would protect me at all costs, that takes me on adventures outside of my comfort zone, and I’ve grown so much just from being around him. On top of that, he helped me find my passion for exploration and travel, and we’ve had so many new experiences together that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of with anyone else. That’s what you need. You need someone— a lover or a friend— that challenges you and makes you happy. All of this stuff is great, but it doesn’t mean anything to you. In fact, all it does is hurt the people involved, including yourself. You’re not a bad person, you just need to branch out and find yourself. Let all of this go and find what really brings you joy.”

Was what you said true? Did you really feel that way about him? Jimin feels like his heart is about to burst at your confession. Although it wasn’t meant for him to hear, that makes it that much more sincere. He told you he loved you a little while ago and you didn’t even react, but hearing you say this eases every worry he had. Now motivated more than ever to finish this ordeal and get back to normal life with you, he snatches up the stick and hurries back to Nissa as Hix thinks over your words, his resolve looking shaken.

“You’re back!” She says as he enters, looking at him as though she can see him. She removes the spell on him, the film around him disappearing with the flick of her hand. Swiftly, she takes the leaf and staff from Jimin, moving to a table to drop the contents onto a prepared pile of dust. “Hix’s staff? Nice choice.” She giggles inspecting the wood with satisfaction before coating the items in the powder. After less than a minute she produces her finished product, the new staff glowing brightly. “Hold this.”

She thrusts it into his hands, and to his surprise, it’s quite heavy compared to the almost weightless stick he brought to her. Nissa walks over to the barrier, hands covered in dust, and places them in the center. Her palms move over the barrier independently, as if searching for something, and after a few seconds, she returns to him to take the staff back with now clean hands. He watches in awe as spots of gold seemingly float in midair as if attached to glass and the fairy walks over wielding her tool, not hesitating for a second before thrusting the blunt edge into the gold spots. Sparkles radiate out along the doorway with every strike, her technique looking like a fencing player expertly brandishing her rapier, and as soon as the last spot is pierced, the barrier flashes once and dissipates into a plume of dust. The dust lands on the stink bugs underneath, both of them falling to the floor, and the woman simply steps over their sleeping bodies without batting an eyelash.

“Come on, let’s go!” She waves him over, snapping Jimin out of his stupor as he follows her into the hall. They make their way back to you cautiously, avoiding all enemies as they navigate through the fortress.

Meanwhile, you sit with Hix on one of the benches in the center of the large room, your backs facing the entrance. You didn’t mean for this to turn into a therapy session, but somehow you ended up listening to all of his problems and sympathizing with the struggles he’s faced leading up to this, trying to help resolve this conflict peacefully.

“If you have friends on the other side of the stream, why don’t you just move there and live with them?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in pity. “You would have a better life where they already accept you, instead of trying to force others to see your worth here.”

After giving this some thought, Hix stares out of the window in front of you. The water passes lazily outside, the other side looking several times farther away than when you were normal sized. “Maybe you’re right... but I put so much time and effort into this plan, I can’t give it up so easily.”

“You can! I know it seems like a waste of time, but the damage hasn’t been done yet. Things aren’t set in stone, you can still change your path and redirect yourself in a better direction. You haven’t married Nissa yet and your stink bugs haven’t destroyed this area, but if you continue like this, you may end up doing something irreversible and regretting it. Walk away now and start over. People don’t get many chances to do that in life.”

“But-“ He shakes his head. “They’re never going to forgive me for what I’ve done. I kidnapped their leader and threatened our home!” His head drops to his hands, and you put a hand on his back.

“They might not ever be able to forgive you, and that’s okay. But what’s important is that you never forget and use this experience to better yourself as a fairy. Look back on who you are now and tell yourself that you’ll never make the same mistakes again. I believe in you, Hix. I know you aren’t bad, you’ve just had a hard life— and I know I can’t do anything to make up for that, but I truly wish you the best in the future.” Your smile brings him to lift his eyes to look at you.

He sighs, looking at your sparkling eyes. You seem passionate about this and he can’t understand why you care so much about this. About him. You aren’t even a fairy from here, yet you’ve shown him more compassion than anyone in his entire life. And for the first time, his heart thumps wildly in his chest with warmth.

Nissa and Jimin arrive at the doorway, both peeking their heads in to see what was happening. They see you talking with Hix, your backs facing them, but the fairy looks to be in some sort of turmoil next to you, his head in his hands, looking mildly distressed. Jimin moves to interrupt, but Nissa holds her hand out in front of him, whispering to keep watching before taking action.

“I’ve had a change of heart because of you. I think it would be best if I did move to the other side of the water, away from the creatures I hurt and oppressed here. You’ve opened my eyes, (Y/n). You truly are a beautiful soul inside and out.”

He looks up at you again before suddenly lunging at you and pulling you into a hug, but from another perspective it looks as though he’s grabbing you and pulling you to him against your will. Nissa and Jimin gasp as they see your eyes wet with tears, and as soon as one slips down your cheek, they jump into action.

“I’m sorry you were treated so badly here. I wish I was born a fairy so that I could be your friend and change how things were for you.” You mumble sadly into the embrace, to which he chuckles.

“Thank you for your empathy, but you do not mean that. You have another life to live. Go be happy with your lover and tell him that you love him everyda-“

THUNK!

Nissa storms over from her hiding place and swings her club down, landing squarely on the back of Hix’s head. A short scream falls from your lips when he goes limp, the noise echoing in the room as he falls out of your arms and off of the bench onto his face, laying flat on the floor. Jimin pulls you up and into his arms, replacing the space where your new friend had been without a second thought. Cradling you into his chest, he misses the horrified look you have on your face.

“Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Did he touch you or make you do anything against your will?” His eyes are worried and you almost don’t have it in your heart to be angry. Almost.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You shout, looking down at his body. “Oh my god, did you kill him?” Jimin holds you as you try to go over to Hix, but you rip out of his grasp to kneel down to your new friend.

“Of course I didn’t kill him, he still needs to face the consequences of his crimes. I just knocked him unconscious.” The fairy beside Jimin says nonchalantly, looking incredibly satisfied with the sight of him lying unconscious.

“Why? He just agreed to let us go and move to the other side of the water! We resolved this peacefully!” Your eyes are flames as you look at them, and Nissa’s mouth falls open.

“Wait, he what?!” Even Jimin looks surprised. Yes, you are the most charming and persuasive person he’s ever met, but did you really sweet talk a villain in such a short amount of time?

Before you can say anything, several stink bugs enter the room, the commotion causing them to check on their leader. Their tiny eyes land on you leaning over his limp body, Nissa with a club and Jimin standing suspiciously near the scene of the crime. You try to explain— as if they would even understand you— but the wings on their backs open up and they begin to charge toward you aggressively.

There’s little time to react as Jimin grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you up, dragging you along as he follows the fleeing fairy that dashes toward the exit. You have no choice but to run with them, looking behind you only to be met with the large armored bodies of your pursuers. They close in from the left, right, and from behind as you head toward the door, close to cutting off your exit. You and Jimin sprint past Nissa when she suddenly twists around to face them, and with one swing of her club, the bugs are pushed backwards, allowing the three of you to make your escape.

Fresh air slaps you in the face once you make it outside, the humidity and guilt feeling suffocating in your lungs. In your heart you know this isn’t right. You connected with Hix, you made so much progress with him, but in the end violence was still used to get your way despite that. Yes, you and Nissa escaped, but someone else was hurt in the process. If Hix decided to go back to his original plan, you wouldn’t blame him, but you still feel horrible about how things turned out. You suppose your gut feeling was wrong after all.

“Babe, we have to keep running or they’ll catch us!” Jimin breathes exasperatedly, your feet slowing down beneath you without you noticing. A swarm of guards are now flying in from all sides, there’s no way you’ll be able to get around them. But that doesn’t mean Nissa won’t try, the fairy flying up to smack down the insects in an attempt to clear a path. But she’s just one woman and it won’t be enough, and you can’t force yourself to keep going. Just then, Alva and Laila appear, joining their warrior leader in the battle, knocking down the bugs to help you advance forward, but by now, you’ve stopped running. “(Y/n)!” Jimin pleads, tugging on your arm, but you ignore him.

Looking around, all you can see is a mess of flailing bodies and Fairy Dust, warriors attacking each other for an irrelevant cause. The sounds of buzzing and grunts fills your ears at an unsettling volume. It’s pure chaos. You hoped to avoid this— a war where others get hurt instead of solving things diplomatically and sensibly. As the appointed “diplomat”, you supposed you failed if things had to come to this.

“Alva, Laila, Nissa! Please stop!” You shout at them when one falls to the ground roughly. “You don’t need to fight, Hix has changed! He was about to let us go, there’s no need to fight unnecessarily!” They barely spare you a glance, the three of them trying to push through the blockade.

“Then why are they attacking you?” Alva points out, ducking as one bug tries to tackle her.

“You really believe he’s changed?” The leader asks, strained.

“Yes, he has. I could tell just by looking at him, he was telling the truth.” Nissa looks unconvinced, scoffing at your response.

“Then you don’t know him like I do.” She clearly doesn’t trust what you say, so you turn to your boyfriend, hoping he’ll be more understanding. Jimin looks at you and into your eyes, reading your emotions as if they were written in ink. He knows from experience that you’re a great judge of character and that you’re seldom wrong about things like this, but at the same time, you’re talking about the person who has tormented this side of the stream so much that the fairies here needed to recruit the two of you for help. It’s hard to believe that you’d be able to change him so easily. Only a few seconds pass but he feels like he’s standing there for minutes debating on if he should take your side or not. But he trusts you— you need him to trust you— so he does.

“I believe you.” He says quietly, letting go of your arm, much to your relief. You’ve always been a pacifist, so he knows you’ll take this personally if anything bad happens to any of your comrades. He calls up to the others. “If she says he’s changed, then he has! Please, stop fighting.”

“How can you be so sure?” Laila questions, looking down at the two of you briefly.

“I know my girlfriend. (Y/n) wouldn’t lie about something like this.” As he speaks, nobody notices the male exiting the fortress with a throbbing head, looking out at all of the action in front of him. “Laila, Alva, you brought us here to help save your land, and it was (Y/n) who convinced me to help you do it. The least you could do is believe her and listen to what she has to say. She cares so deeply about this place after only being here for a short time, she would never do anything to hurt you. Just please stop attacking and listen. You don’t have to believe her right now but at least stop fighting.” Jimin isn’t nearly as eloquent with his words as you are, but you can’t help but smile at his short speech. It may not mean anything that he’s taking your side, but you appreciate the support nonetheless. And to your surprise, everyone does stop fighting soon after.

The stink bugs land in an orderly pattern, standing solidly like before as Hix approaches dizzily from behind. Your three friends land as well, glaring at the man who now holds his head with a sorrowful look on his face. Without seeing him, you step forward, prepared to explain all that you have learned. You tell them of how you listened to Hix (the first time anyone has ever done that) and found that he was just a misunderstood and lonely villain of their own creation. You spoke of how he simply wanted to be acknowledged, and how all of the creatures around did everything in their power to make sure he never received that acknowledgement by spreading untrue rumors about his character. Hix isn’t evil, you explained, he’s just desperate to be one of them, and if it took him going to such extreme measures for them to finally notice him and his struggles, then the problem lies with them and not him.

“So he won your pity? Good for him. But that still doesn’t excuse what he’s done.” Alva crosses her arms, followed by Nissa, Laila staying silent.

“Yes, I know.” He finally speaks up from behind you, looking dejected and apologetic when you snap your head around to look at him. Upon seeing him, Jimin steps in front of you out of instinct, not liking how physically close the two of you were before the escape. You trust Hix, but it is still his duty to make sure that you are safe. Your hand rests on his side, but you don’t push him out of the way, simply peeking out from behind his back to watch as the fairy speaks. “I know that what I have done is unforgivable, but this human has given me a lot of insight. Enough to change my heart.”

They scoff at him, but refrain from speaking at your sharp glare. Hix approaches you, but Jimin stands firm, holding his arms out to block him— something that surprises the mud colored fairy before you.

“It’s okay, Jimin.” You say, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder in reassurance. Hix looks on in awe as you stare into each other’s eyes, communicating in an unspoken language that makes your boyfriend slowly comply and allow you to step into the open. But he still makes sure you’re right at his side. He won’t let you out of his sight again.

“I see. So this “assistant” is your lover?” Hix grins in realization, donning sparkles in his eyes. You nod. “I’ve never... known love or kindness. But seeing you like this, and having experienced the kindness you showed to me— a complete stranger— makes me want to find it on my own. Away from here.” His fingers are soft when they touch your arm, color painting his cheeks. Nissa gapes at this, not having seen the man be so tender before. She’s only seen his bitterness or the mocking, teasing persona he used when addressing Laila, whom he’s long had a crush on. He turns to them, addressing the three that stare in shock. “No amount of apologies will undo the trouble I’ve caused, but I’m willing to take whatever punishment you all decide for me. I want you to know that I plan on moving to the other side of the water, where I was more welcome there than I ever was here, and I will never bother you again. Nissa, I’m sorry I kidnapped you.” He looks down sheepishly. “It was very childish of me to think that it would solve anything, and instead it just caused more conflict and fighting. You are completely justified in knocking me out. Let this lump on the back of my head be a reminder of my wrongdoings and keep me on the right path.”

You stifle a laugh at that, biting your lip to hide your smile.

Then, Hix turns to you once more, looking between you and Jimin’s faces. “You are very wise,” You blush at this, feeling the earnestness in his compliment. “You said earlier that this person is someone you love, correct?” He asks, pointing to Jimin, to which you nod shyly. “Well, he is very lucky to have someone like you: someone so sincere and caring. Never change.” His eyes find Jimin’s. “I don’t know much about love, but she thinks of you very fondly. Please treat her with all the delicacy in the world and never let her go.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, blushing furiously at your confession coming from the wrong mouth. You try not to look mortified when he looks down at you, your cheeks shaded prettily as well and lifted into a soft smile. He doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon, and this whole experience has made him want to hold on to you tighter than before.

“What should we do with him?” Nissa whispers to her companions, eyeing the remorseful male that comes to stand in front of her.

“You are our leader, I think you should decide.” Alva replies. An odd look crosses Nissa’s face then, one that almost mirrors her enemy’s as they look back at each other.

“I’m your leader...” She mutters thoughtfully before standing straight. “I’m no leader. I caused everything that’s happened, everything that Hix has done. The rumors that ruined his reputation: I started them. I... I didn’t realize that my words could have so much power— that as the leader of the meadow that I had the strength to destroy someone just by giving my misguided opinion of them. No, I never liked you Hix,” He rolls his eyes at that. “But I never meant to cause you such pain. You deserve to live a normal life, so as leader I will allow you to leave without punishment.” Shocked, he bows his head in thanks.

“How noble and humble of you to admit your faults.” Laila comments quietly, her cheery attitude returning.

“Furthermore,” Nissa continues. “I’m stepping down.”

“What?! You can’t do that!” Alva protests loudly, eyebrows shooting up as she leaves the ground just slightly in her surprise. Laila also seems shocked, but she grabs her lover’s arm and tells her to calm down and let her explain.

“A real leader doesn’t slander others mindlessly. They are diplomatic and generous with a perfect balance of modesty and fierceness. I believe Laila fits that description perfectly.” Everyone turns to her then, your eyes lighting up when they meet hers for the first time this entire night. “Laila, I name you the new leader of the meadow. We can officially title you in front of everyone in the morning.”

You all clap, Alva jumping on her in a tight hug, the taller fairy spinning her girlfriend around before setting her feet back to the ground. Jimin smiles at the adorable display, his arm thoughtlessly wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side. Your eyes are glued to him as he watches the happy couple. You’re happy he’s here with you through all of this. It’ll all feel like a crazy dream in the morning, but at least he’ll be there to recount all of your experiences with you.

“Since you’re giving up your position, whatdoya say we both start over across the water?” Hix interjects, wiggling his eyebrows at Nissa. “We could build a new place, find ourselves-“

“NO.” She cuts him off sharply, her wings twitching similarly to Alva’s.

“Well, then... I guess it’s time for me to go.” He says, pout on his lips, but it disappears when he turns to face the stream. In his eyes, you can see him envisioning his new future, the possibilities of having a new life where he doesn’t have to feel lonely and rejected anymore. You wish him the best, you truly do. He walks up to the water’s edge, dipping himself in safely and re-emerging looking clean. His real complexion is actually a dark leafy green, and you assume he colored himself brown to fit in with the stink bugs. He calls the creatures and they come flying up to him, all of them floating over the water together and dispersing into the wildlife there.

“I guess my gut feeling was right after all.” You tell Jimin, giving him a toothy grin. “Everything turned out just fine.”

You ride Garnet back to the meadow, yawning and resting your cheek on Jimin’s back for the entirety of the trip. It’s mostly silent, the breeze whistling lullabies into your ears and combing through your hair sweetly as you fly over the terrain. The spies are gone, you notice, the highly policed skies looking empty and calm. Many creatures have already started migrating closer to the water and you presume that Hix’s fortress won’t be standing for much longer once the insects get ahold of it, tearing it down to get to the bank of the water and restore their supply. You feel proud of you and Jimin for accomplishing your outlandish mission, and you whisper as much to him in the quietness of the night.

With one stop to visit and say your goodbyes to the friendly mushroom fairy, Bayard, you’re off to Nissa’s home, which you find out is right next to Alva and Laila’s.

“Alright,” She says, guiding you and Jimin inside her abode. “Time to make that reversal spell. If I can remember it.” She mutters the last part, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, but she waves you off when you question it.

“Thank you for helping us.” Laila walks up to you, meeting your gaze for the second time. She doesn’t seem as intimidated by you anymore, which is a relief. But her cheeks still flame the longer you hold eye contact. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Both of you.” Then she turns to Jimin. “Remember what we talked about. Never be embarrassed.”

You look between the two of them as he nods, neither saying anything more than that, but you’ll let them keep their secrets. She hugs both of you and then it’s Alva’s turn to say her last few words to you.

“Thank you both. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to pull it off, but things turned out better than I could have hoped. Really, you two are lovely, come visit us again sometime if you can. Then you’ll get to see how beautiful the meadow is in times of peace.” She pulls you both into an awkward side hug that makes you giggle, her own cheeks pink and wings flicking when you tease her about it.

“Mm, I think this is it!” Nissa chimes, scooping the now blue Fairy Dust into a bag. “Are you two ready?” At your okay, they fly you back to your purple blanket, placing you in the center where you find other bugs inspecting the odd surface. “I guess I should say thanks as well. You didn’t have to save me, but I really appreciate that you did.” She bows her head at you, taking both you and Jimin’s hands in hers to show her gratitude.

A ticklish feeling overtakes your whole body when she sprinkles the blue dust onto you, but this time you don’t faint. You watch as the waving fairies become smaller and smaller, their figures disappearing until they are nearly microscopic to you. The blades of grass around the perimeter of your blanket shrink too, as well as the trees and fireflies surrounding you, all returning to normal proportions that take a minute for your mind to process.

“We’re finally normal again.” Jimin sighs, looking at his body and the area around you. It does feel better to know that your chances of being smashed by something are significantly lower now.

“Was that... real?” It feels fake, like a pipe dream, and when you check your phone you find that only an hour has passed since you first got there. “That can’t be right.” You blink a few times, both you and him staring at the time in confusion.

“Time must move slower when you’re that tiny.” He reasons, running a hand through his hair. You take the time to reorient yourself, gazing back up at the stars above you. They twinkle invitingly, their light feeling so much brighter after experiencing the darkness of the forest floor. You look over at Jimin to find that he’s already staring at you, looking as though he’s nervous about something.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide at the expression on his face. He takes a deep breath, your heart beating a thousand times faster.

“I...” Taking his lip between his teeth, he pauses to choose his words. “(Y/n), I love you.” Your heart flutters, and this time you let it. “I meant it when I said it earlier, I really do love you. I wanted tonight to be special so I brought you out here to a place that was special to me as a kid, and I wanted to confess to you here, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. But I’m not afraid to say it anymore.” His hand finds yours, fitting perfectly like it was made to be there. “This whole experience made me realize how much I need you, and how terrified I am of losing you. I was so terrified that something bad would happen to you the entire time that I have a headache right now from all the stress!” You laugh, placing your free hand on the side of his face, fingertips grazing his temple. “But even though I was scared, you taught me how to be brave and step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to protect you, but somehow you ended up protecting yourself and saving the entire meadow with your amazing instincts (which is incredibly sexy, by the way), but now I feel like a useless sidekick. So, I guess the only thing I can offer a girl that has everything, is my heart. I don’t mind being your sidekick as long as I know you love me too.”

Jimin tends to ramble when he’s nervous, word vomiting everything that’s on his mind, but it’s one of his charms that you find absolutely adorable. You can’t help but smile at his confession, the dampness of his palms melting you. “Of course I feel the same way, Jimin. Hix kinda confessed for me, but I still want to say it myself. Park Jimin, I love everything about you. You might feel like you’re my sidekick tonight, but we’ve been on so many adventures before this where you were the one who led me out of my comfort zone and taught me how to find my own courage. Do you remember our first date?” He giggles at the memory with you, looking away with fondness. “It was around Halloween and you convinced me to go to one of those haunted trails with you after I said I’d never been to one. And you pulled me along every step of the way and held me close so I wouldn’t get lost or hurt myself because I had my eyes closed the entire time.” You let out an embarrassed chuckle. You really have changed a lot since meeting him. “I think that was the day that I realized I was in love with you. Or at least that I would fall in love with you. I’ve never felt so safe and comforted in anyone’s arms before, but when you held me, it felt like home. Every time we went on an adventure, you were always the one to reassure me and make sure I was okay; that’s the reason why I slowly began to open up to the world and realize my passion for exploration. I don’t think you realize just how much of who I am today is because of you, Jimin.”

“You don’t mean that..” He says, though his love for praise starts showing in the pleased look he has in his eyes. You decide to indulge in it.

“I do! I’m only able to be brave because I know that you’re there to protect me. You saved my life twice tonight! And thank you for having my back and helping me stop the fighting. I couldn’t have saved the day without you.” His hand wraps around the wrist of your hand that still rests on his face, both of you looking into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“Of course, babe, we’re a team. Let’s always stay together.” He leans in to softly press his lips to yours, and you stay in that gentle kiss under the stars for an indeterminate amount of time, lost in each other’s embrace. When you pull away, you see shapes being drawn into the air, Fairy Dust in the shape of hearts traced above your heads, and you smile at the antics of your friends, wondering if they were listening the whole time. It’s a beautiful display that warms your heart. “I think it’s time to head back to camp.” Jimin says softly when you yawn, standing before extending a hand to you and pulling you up against his chest.

As you bend down to pick up your belongings, you feel something hard in your pocket and reach inside to pull it out. An unnaturally shimmery whistle rests between your fingers, now grown to a proportionate size as it must have been caught in the spell as well. You meet eyes with Jimin as he folds up the blanket, raising his eyebrows at you to blow it, and when you do fireflies come swirling up from the grass, synchronized and brilliant as they put on a spectacle for you. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your throat as you watch them perform, spelling their thanks to you and your boyfriend before one comes to land in the center of your hand.

“Thank you, Garnet. We’ll come back to visit someday.” She flutters her wings and flashes her colors at you before taking off again into the night, her light blending in against the starry sky as Jimin takes your hand to begin the trek back to your campgrounds.

[suntrastar]

abstract: chapter 1

chapter 2!!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader

Summary: Wait- Bucky Barnes attends your art class? And you didn’t even recognize him?

Word count: 7k (i am insane i know this!! you can also find this fic on ao3 !!)

Author’s note: hello! attempting to upload a fic on here for the first time ever! do i understand this website’s format. perhaps not. but am i going to try? perhaps yes! anyways hope you all like it :) likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!! umm idk how this works if you wanna follow me you can?? do follows exist on tumblr dot com i think they do. hope they do. love you all. this is a long chapter buckle up (BUCKle up lmao i am not funny)!! enjoy ;o

“Hey, can you come look at this?”

You teach three classes a week- Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. The latter two are enjoyable in their own right, but Mondays are definitely your favorite. Instead of teaching kids, who are funny and creative but so messy, and so loud, you get to teach adults. People your own age or usually older, putting you in a position of authority, valuing your opinion, wanting you to come look at things.

It’s a delightful power trip.

You turn away from the window to see who’s speaking.

It’s Steve.

Of course it’s Steve, your star student, staring at you with a worn, weary intensity, wiping a paintbrush on a paper towel. He’s already pushed his sheet of paper across the table, bumpy with water and watercolor paint, cream-colored edges starting to curl. He leans away from it, reclining in a seat that’s adult-sized but dwarfed by his frame, looking so forlorn, like the paper just abandoned him, moved to the opposite side of the table by itself.

You stifle a laugh.

“Sure,” you say, and make your way over to his table.

Steve fidgets in his seat as you look at his painting. You try to keep your jaw in check.

It drops anyway.

As always, it’s beautiful. He’s painted a sky, swirling with purples and pinks, and careful clouds, flickering in and out between layers of paint, elegant and pale yellow-orange. And the sun- it’s off-center, and you’re sure it was unintentional, but that adds to the effect, because it’s hot red, and dazzling, and slowly seeping into the still-wet sky. Tendrils of red like real sunbeams, pushing through the clouds like a real sunset.

You don’t know why Steve even takes this class. Half the time, you feel like he should be the one teaching.

“It’s gorgeous,” you say eventually, once your words come back to you. “I love how you painted the sun- the red, oh my god. You’re seriously a natural.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, and you push the paper back towards him. He looks down at it, still tense, brow furrowed, and you almost laugh again, until he looks back up at you. “I wanted to know what you thought about it.”

Power trip.

“I love it,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, which he hesitantly returns. You might be laying it on a little thick, but Steve still looks distressed, and you genuinely like the guy enough to try to help him.

When he walked in with his friend for the first class, you were floored. People like Steve don’t attend classes like this- classes like this are attended by regular people. Not people that walk like dancers, all grace and light steps, not people that are extraordinarily jacked, with jutting shoulders and rippling muscles, not people that have a weirdly authoritarian air around them, like a politician, but less shrewd.

Still, you welcomed them and made awkward small-talk and tried not to stare at their arms and hoped you came across as a somewhat decent person. It’s your first time teaching adults, you explained, and Steve gave you a smile so sincere and reassured you that you would do great, boosting your confidence to the point where you actually did.

Steve is lovely. He’s passionate about art and has a good eye, a better eye than you, really, and he always tries so hard with whatever he does, and he’s funny in a dorky way, and completely unaware of it. He always wears a baseball hat and tucks his shirts into his pants and called you ma’am once, and looked so surprised when you burst out laughing and told him to call you by your first name. With him, two classes have flown by, and now, during the third, he’s warmed up to you enough to talk to you like a friend.

The friend he brings with him, though?

A total douchebag.

The night to Steve’s day, the rain to his sunshine. It’s obvious that Steve brings him along as some sort of moral support, to make himself look less out of place, which is fine, except the guy always treats you like you’ve perpetually offended him.

And maybe you have, maybe one time you did something that’s worthy of his eternal dislike, but you wouldn’t know what it is, because he’s never brought it up, because he barely fucking talks.

You don’t think he’s a naturally quiet guy. He definitely looks like he has a lot to say, but no matter what, he only ever talks in single-syllable bursts, quiet enough that half the time you miss what he’s saying.

He doesn’t ignore you, either- he listens to everything you say and lets his judgement flicker over his face- which is way worse. A glare is a slight misstep, a shake of his head means that you’ve just said something that he finds stupid, a scowl is a catastrophe.

You don’t even know his name. He’s never introduced himself, and always writes his name in a shaky, illegible scrawl on the sign-in sheet, and by now you don’t care enough to look it up.

Still, you’re nice to him, polite. It’s okay if he doesn’t like you. You don’t need to be liked- being noticed is enough.

You shift away from Steve to his friend, sitting next to him at the table. He’s staring at you in a way that you can only describe as violent, and you flinch, and then plaster your smile back on.

“How’s it going?” You ask, expecting no response, stealing a glance at his paper. He’s painted the entire sheet a watered-down blue, and you want to congratulate him, for actually participating this time, but you don’t say anything. “The watercolors working out for you?”

Your heart goes out to the poor paintbrush in his hand. It’s barely been used, is steadily dripping water, and is being throttled in his gloved grip. He always wears one glove- it’s weird, but you’re not going to pry.

He catches you looking and a whole myriad of emotion plays over his face; irritation and shame, a creased brow and a scowl. You have the feeling that you’ve taken a massive overstep, even though you haven’t said anything else, even though you’re not looking at his hand anymore, just at him.

His hair hangs over his eyes, glossy and carelessly wavy, which you would find pretty, maybe, if he wasn’t looking at you the way he is. Like you’ve just done something terrible.

“Sure,” he says, and that’s it.

Even when you turn away, he’s glaring.

You hate it, so you pretend it’s not happening.

Steve gives you a sympathetic glance before you head back. You wave it off.

“Shonna,” you call, to the fiftysomething woman hunched over her painting a few tables down, “how’re the flowers looking?”

***

Thirty minutes before your fourth Monday class starts, you arrive at the studio to find Rina washing paintbrushes in the sink.

“Hey,” you call.

She turns to you and gives you a surprised grin. “Oh, hey! You’re here early- come help with these brushes.”

You set your bag on the counter by the wall and join her at the sink. You’ve known Rina for ages- ever since you were roommates in college. The class before yours is taught before, some advanced painting thing that she is extremely overqualified to teach.

She’s kind of famous. And kind of self-absorbed, and a little bit pretentious, but maybe that’s just what happens when you’re as successful in your field as she is. No matter what it is, you can’t complain- she’s the one that helped get you this job in the first place.

“A couple of people in my class like to get here early, so I just try to arrive before them,” you say. She passes you a clean paintbrush. You reach around her and tear off a paper towel from the dispenser. “Did you dye your hair? It looks so pretty.”

“Yes!” She shakes her head, letting her hair sway. Last time you met her, she had dyed it pink. Now it’s mahogany red, straight and sleek and falling just past her shoulders. She looks a little unreal. “How’s your class going? Are the people okay?”

“Yeah, most of them are pretty nice.”

She passes you another paintbrush to dry. You consider bringing up Steve’s friend, but decide against it.

“That’s good- and you’re welcome, by the way. But okay, listen. Do you remember that one guy I told you about a while back, Dustin? So yesterday I was just sitting at home, and then he texted me…”

With the formalities out of the way, she launches into a story about someone you definitely don’t remember. Still, you humor her, listen to what she has to say, chime in at the right parts and say “really?” and “no way!” too many times. The minutes tick by.

When all of the brushes are washed and dried, you take them, since you’re going to be the one using them next, and start setting up for the class. Rina walks away and grabs her stuff from the counter. She lingers by the doorway, door already propped open, aimlessly scrolling through something on her phone, hesitant to leave for a reason you don’t know. Maybe she has more to say- if that’s even, like, possible.

You set the brushes in a container at the center table, and head over to the shelves on the far wall to pull out more supplies. Unfortunately, today’s class is revolving around watercolor again. It’s drudgery, such a boring medium- dull, unsaturated, painstaking when it comes to detail. You bring out a stack of paper, the least-depressing palettes, and then mason jars for holding water.

You’re setting the last jar on the table when Rina shrieks.

It startles you, making your hand slip.

The jar wobbles over the edge of the table and then falls, shattering into cloudy glass pieces at your feet.

“Shit,” you curse, and look over at her. “Rina, what the hell?”

Standing across from her in the doorway, having arrived early for class as usual, are Steve and his friends, two shades more flustered than usual. Rina is gawking at them.

Okay, they’re attractive, but not that attractive.

Not shriek-worthy attractive.

You sigh loudly and carefully step over the glass, making your way over to them. “Hi, Steve,” you say, and he jolts, like a scared cat. He’s blushing, stepping back into the hallway, hands awkwardly dangling at his sides. His friend is staring at Rina like he’s about to murder her, and you’re staring at him like you’re about to ask him to pass you the broom behind the door.

Because you are.

“Sorry about… that. There’s a broom behind the door, could you pass it to me?”

He opens his mouth to say something, and you are desperate to hear him, even if he’s only going to utter a simple yes, but Rina buts in.

“You did not just ask the Winter Soldier to pass you a broom.”

Who?

“Girl, what?”

All three of you turn to her, cornering back into the wall. She looks even more unreal, eyes blown wide, red creeping up her neck, giving her hair a run for its money, still gawking. You resist the urge to reach out and pull her chin back up, to close her mouth.

She alternates between looking at Steve and at…  

“That’s the Winter Soldier,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to convince herself, or you, and then steps closer to Steve, who instinctively takes a step back. He’s fully in the hallway, now. “And you’re Captain America.”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He stays silent, and you feel bad for him, that’s all you can feel, really- you are confused beyond reason, halfway convinced that Rina is losing her shit, still awaiting the broom, still awaiting Steve’s friend’s words, racking your brain for any image of Captain America or the Winter Soldier that you might have- and coming up completely empty.

You don’t watch the news, like, ever.

Little details float back to you. Steve’s dressing sense, his manners, his muscles…

The baseball caps that both of them are always wearing...

His friend’s glove…

Oh, fuck.

“Are you?” You ask dumbly. The question is meant for both of them, but you only look at one of them while speaking. A glare meets you back- a slight misstep.

You can’t even see your feet, in this situation. You’re walking blind.

Steve crosses his arms and looks at you sternly. He doesn’t look angry, but as close as he can get. “Yes,” he says, completely guarded and unfriendly and not lovely at all. “I thought you knew that.”

You are so stupid- how did you not know that?

“I didn’t,” you say, and you don’t sound convincing at all. Not much fazes you, but you are absolutely, positively fazed right now, and starting to spiral out. “I had no idea- I thought you guys could have been, like, bodyguards, or something, not actual Avengers, oh my god. I’m so sorry, shit, thank you for your service?”

You’re going to end it all- this is so embarrassing.

Steve’s mouth twitches. Rina is scarlet-faced. The Winter Soldier, god, looks so tense, like he might shatter, too, into silent, grumpy pieces all over the floor.

“You’re welcome,” Steve says, and marginally relaxes. He stays in the hallway, the Winter Soldier by the door- you should have paid more attention in your tenth grade history class, what is the guy’s name?

Rina peels herself off the wall, and you start to get nervous. There’s a painful silence, with lots of staring, where you’re still trying to coax a few rational thoughts out of your brain, and only coming up with one- Rina needs to leave.  

You try to tell her that with your eyes, with a pointed look, but you’re not great at this whole communication-through-expressions thing, so she doesn’t get the hint, or does and just ignores it.

“So, let me get this straight,” she says, tearing the silence like a plastic seal, voice starting to rise, from wonder to excitement, from painless curiosity to danger, “there’s two Avengers taking your class? And you didn’t even recognize them?”

“Nope,” you say, looking away, at a stain on the wall, at the distant glass shards still unswept away on the floor.

“That’s…”

She trails off before she has the chance to call you stupid, because the Winter Soldier gives her a pointed look of his own. Low brows and dark eyelashes, blazing blue eyes- she has no choice but to listen. Your staring was irritating, but his is intimidating.

She scampers away, mumbling something you can’t catch and brushing against Steve as she leaves.

This whole thing is so unprofessional, but at least you can breathe again-

“Here,” the Winter Soldier says, and a broom handle comes into your view.

Just one word, but you’ll take it with open arms. You take the broom from him, give an unreturned, unfamiliarly sheepish smile and head back to the broken glass on the floor.

The broken glass is swept up and tossed in the trash. You avoid looking at the doorway, focusing on other useless tasks instead. Rearranging the supplies on the table, fiddling with the window blinds, chatting with the rest of the class attendees as they start to file in.

Then the class starts and you’re swept back into your demonstration, talking and teaching and showing off different techniques that can be done with different types of brushes. You only look in their direction once, right after showing off some technique you barely remember from art school with a fan brush- they sit at their table near the back, Steve paying attention as usual, his friend silently reacting, as usual.

So they decided to stay- that’s good. Great, even.

Until the next part of the class starts, when everyone gets to work on their own paintings, when you have to stop talking.

You mill around the room, searching for a conversation to join in on or a comment to make, but find none. Then you take a sheet of paper and hopelessly try to draw- search for a distraction and a spark up of an idea, something, anything, and come up completely empty. It’s just...

How famous are they? Like, A-list celebrity famous? Are they offended that you didn’t recognize them- should you start treating them differently? You don’t keep up with this stuff. You have an impossibly long list of other things to worry about- you don’t have the time to worry about this stuff. The Avengers aren’t something you think about ever, because why should you?

If you opened any newspaper or magazine you would find something about them- a charity gala they attended, some recent threat they neutralized, the latest gossip surrounding their personal lives. But those lives are so far detached from your own that you’ve never bothered to look.

You simply don’t care. You’re not a native New Yorker- it’s not like these people are your hometown heroes, that you grew up idolizing them. They save the world time and time again and society is forever indebted to them and all of that, but what are you supposed to do about it?

And most importantly, what is the Winter Soldier’s fucking name?

Enough of this chaos goes on in your mind to make your head hurt. Fuck it, you decide- you’ll face it. You straighten your shoulders as you stand, trying your best to look purposeful as you walk to their table, like you have reason to go over there. Yeah, they’re strong. Genetically enhanced and all of that, and they’re important: they’re Avengers.

But they’re taking your class.

You slide into the chair across from the Soldier without taking the time to gauge their reactions.

“Do other people here know?” You ask.

Steve startles, eyes widening, and then considers the question while swirling his brush in green paint. He’s working on a landscape today, you think. “Shonna might,” he says, not rudely. “But nobody else.”

So maybe not that famous. Or maybe the people here are just like you and don’t care.

But it still doesn’t make sense. “Then why did you think that I knew?”

“Because you talk a lot,” Steve says, like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Well, yeah, that’s part of the job-”

Steve cuts you off, and fuck, you hate getting interrupted. But he’s smiling, and you can’t bring yourself to get upset over it. “You talk a lot to us.”

Us?  

More like to him.

You take it in stride, don’t let your confidence slip. You’ve purposely angled your head away, and you know the Winter Soldier is staring at you- you can feel it on your cheek, on your shoulder, on every nerve in your face. You don’t look back at him. This revelation hasn’t made him any less unpleasant.

“Yeah,” you say, like it’s just as obvious, “because you’re a nice guy, Steve.”

Steve raises his eyebrows so high that they disappear under the brim of his hat. You smile at him as nicely as you can, sugar-sweet, until he can’t take anymore and drops his gaze back to his painting. You turn back to the nameless man across from you.

Winter Soldier.

“Hi,” you say, only to him, and prop your elbows up on the table, resting your face in your hands. “I love the little pattern you have going on with your painting.”

It’s random splotches of black paint- calling it a pattern is an exaggeration. But you carry on.

“This is probably a bad time to ask, and it’s kind of a dumb question, but, like, what’s your name?”

He just barely raises an eyebrow, allowing for a fraction of surprise, before schooling his expression back into his usual mix of anger and boredom, a casual glare and slight frown. For a moment, you wonder what he looks like when he’s happy.

“You don’t know his name?” Steve is in disbelief, and then he winces, and you think he’s been kicked under the table. Abruptly, you laugh.

It rings out. A few people turn and stare, but you brush it all off with another smile.

He’s still staring. You don’t mind it.

The paintbrush in his hand is suddenly unsteady.

“My name is Bucky,” he says, slowly and loudly enough for you to make out the sound of his voice, for the first time ever.

He is definitely bothered by you asking, his mouth drawn tight, and you can’t even take the time to appreciate how cutesy his name is compared to his demeanor, because oh hell. It’s going to be difficult to keep up this whole dislike thing, if his voice sounds like this, low and rough and gritty like sandpaper, pleasantly grating over you and your skin…

You have to consciously remind yourself to keep on smiling.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Things should feel different, but they don’t. Nobody really reacts- everything resumes as normal. Steve focuses on his panting, adding delicate brushstrokes to the branches of a tree. You linger for a moment, and then get up from the table and flutter off to someone else.

For every class, you wear this kitschy apron, paint-stained, with strings tied in a hasty bow against your back that Bucky always aches to even out. Someone tells you something, and you respond eagerly, fully phased out of the past incident.

He stares until he realizes he’s staring, and then drops his eyes back down to his paper.

Steve wanted to attend this class for a number of reasons- he was bored and wanted something to occupy his time, he wanted to revisit an old hobby, he wanted to learn from you- some hip, emerging artist he’s a fan of, whose work he’s been following for a while now, who is seriously talented, although you have yet to prove it. He wanted to go do something separated from the events of his regular life.

So much wanting. Bucky wants to know why you’re so indifferent.

He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing that you didn’t know his name, or that you didn’t flinch or gasp or accuse him of something, or pointedly look at his left arm. Should he be thankful? Steve is clearly thankful, already loosening up, freed of any lasting tension.

Bucky just feels wary. You’re unsettling.

You come back over to their table one more time. The sleeves of your shirt are pushed up, and there’s a smear of something dark on your forearm, ink or paint. On one wrist you’re wearing a  bracelet made of braided leather. On the other you wear a bulky digital watch.

Practical.

“Everything okay?” You ask, as if something not okay could potentially have happened, in your forty-five minute absence.

Steve fixes you with a friendly smile. Bucky can’t ever bring himself to do the same.

“Yep,” Steve says, and you nod your head, clearly relieved.

“Great!” You glance at him for a spare second, and turn away again.

Everyone he knows is so guarded, walls built high and doors barred shut. Except for you, if Bucky can say that he knows you, the perky art instructor, Steve’s favorite artist. You’re confident and flippant, and that should be a bad pairing, but somehow you can carry yourself within it just fine. Always purposeful in the space you occupy, not reacting to the knowledge of his and Steve’s major, momentous identities.

Bucky wonders, idly, as he blots water over what you so generously called a pattern, why you didn’t.

It’s not like he wants you to acknowledge it, wants you to call him a war criminal or a Rusisan spy. He just wants you to-

He doesn’t know.

The class goes on. An older couple sitting a few tables away have caught your attention, chattering on and on about their personal lives.They have a pet cat that their landlord doesn’t know about, and when they retire they want to move to the seaside in Italy, and in May their son is going to graduate high school.

“High school?” You gasp, loud for no reason. “I hated high school.”

Before the class ends, you take your position at the front of the studio, and talk some more. He knows it’s part of your job, but you are excessive.

There’s an art exhibition going on at some museum, and one of the featured artists is an acquaintance of yours, and on Saturday the admission fee is discounted, and if anybody is interested, you have a stack of flyers on the center table. And you hope that everyone has a good week.

You look at Bucky while finishing up your little monologue, giving a half-smile that’s for the whole class, but seemingly only directed at him. He blinks slowly, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re looking somewhere else.

***

“Morning, pal, you ready to go?”

Steve gives him a hopeful smile as he peels an orange.

Bucky’s hair is still wet from his shower, dripping water onto his shirt. It’s early, too early to go anywhere. He doesn’t even know why he’s awake- usually after his wake-of-dawn runs, he falls back asleep, or lies down and just stares at his ceiling, thinking, until he grows restless enough to get up and do something. But today, the restlessness came much sooner, so he got up much sooner, and it might already be a mistake.

He takes a seat at the kitchen island, next to Sam, trying to think of something that Steve might have had planned for today, and coming up completely empty. “Go where?”

Steve looks hurt, for a brief second. “The exhibition at the museum, remember?”

Oh.

That.

“I’m not going to that,” Bucky says, harshly enough for it to be dropped.

Steve does not drop it. “Hey, come on. Just look at it.”

From his back pocket, Steve pulls out a flyer, one of the flyers you had out on Monday, folded up in a neat square- when did Steve pick one of those up? He holds it out, and Bucky, wishing he was asleep again, takes it.

He unfolds it, and the words are written in tiny letters, and the few photos on the paper are in color but too grainy to make out, and it gives him a slight headache, but he pretends to look it over. Sam leans into him to see it, loudly crunching cereal in Bucky’s ear.

“Looks cool, Rogers,” Sam says, and Steve grins, and now Bucky is the bad guy in the situation, for not wanting to go, even though Sam isn’t going either.

Bucky passes the flyer back without reading a single word.

“I’m not going,” he says, again.

But Steve is relentless. He sets the orange peels aside and gives him a look, and Bucky can already feel his resolve starting to crumble, and it’s kind of pathetic, really. Does he not understand that Bucky is already doing as much as he can?

“Why not?”

He picks the easiest answer.

“I don’t want to.”

Steve’s brow furrows as he splits the orange into two, giving half to Bucky. Sam slurps the milk from his cereal bowl.

They’re all blissfully silent.

“Come on, Bucky,” Steve says suddenly, almost begging. “I really want to see it.”

“I don’t-” He falters, he’s losing the battle. “How many people are there gonna be?”

Steve lights up. Bucky tries to stay indignant, tries to keep his face twisted in dislike, but it’s difficult with Steve. He’s always so full of optimism, has so much of it that it spills out through the seams, rubs off onto whoever’s closest.

“Not that many,” Steve says, like a promise, shaking his head. “That’s why we should go now.”

“Will she be there?”

Sam perks up.

Steve frowns. “No? Or wait, maybe. It’s a public place- I don’t know. She could be.”

It’s miles off from the answer he wants, but again, for Steve, he’ll take it. Bucky ignores Sam leaning across the counter like an idiot and asking “who’s she?” and eats his orange slices in silence.

***

Huge, bulbous heads, and beady little eyes. The limbs are long and wavy and contorted in the weirdest positions, seas of arms and legs and joints, women twisted over each other in gnarled embraces, a man with his arms twirling over and over again around his own torso. And the colors- a complete eclectic mess of everything- blue, red, yellow, green, purple. Everything.

You walk through the museum floor one, two, three times. The paintings on display are unsettling and ugly, and you’re on the verge of tears.

They’re gorgeous. Pain thrown on a canvas, told through canvas. It’s overwhelming- you’re overwhelmed, and you can’t do anything else about it. The museum just opened and there’s barely any people around- you can wallow in your sadness as much as you want to, for now.

Or maybe you’ll wallow in your frustration, instead.

This… you want to create like this.  

But you don’t have it.  

It being an impossible, nearly unattainable type of pain, or misery or anger or any other emotion so strong and visceral that you could translate it into something like this, something that evokes something else from other people. From an audience.

You might have had something like that once, but that’s all too far behind you now. Forgettable. What you need right now is an idea, a spark of inspiration, a single coherent thought. A confirmation that you aren’t completely lost.

You wander back to a painting in a far corner, all alone in a small alcove. A red woman, with her head nestled in green grass and legs wrapping around the sun, quite literally head over heels for it. Her mouth is wide open, gaping, calling, wailing, maybe. She has a hooked nose and a mole on one of her arms, and her white dress has fallen down to pool on the grass, and her legs are lithe and unshaven, prickly like the grass, just like the yellow spikes of the sun, drawn almost comically.

How do you even- how do you even come up with things like this?

By living an interesting life, probably. Through not being boring.

You stay there for a while. Long enough that more people start to file in, pretentious art students wearing all black, eccentric people with awesome haircuts, tourists. They peer over your shoulders, awkwardly, waiting for you to move. When you don’t, they leave you to be, giving you a rude look or two that you pay no mind to. There’s space on either side of you, if they’re so desperate to see. Sidling up right against you is kind of weird, but you’ll excuse it, for this painting.

Eventually, you realize that you should probably get going.

You’ve been standing so long that your legs are starting to ache, and there’s countless other Saturday errands you have to run- doing your laundry, buying groceries, calling up your mom- boring Saturday things to do.

You leave the red woman, regrettably. The fabric of your sleeve comes back dry when you wipe your eyes, even though you feel fully washed away, feel like you’re floating as you drift over to the elevator.

The doors slide open and a few people file out, and then it’s empty, thankfully. You step inside, press the button for the ground floor, wait for the doors to fully close-

“Wait,” a voice calls.

You’re not rude- you press the button to hold open the door.

When it fully opens, Steve steps inside, followed by Bucky.

You’re still out of it. You don’t even realize who they are, not until the doors have slid shut and the floor jolts as the elevator starts its descent and they’ve been staring at you for a solid five seconds.

“Oh, hi,” you say, after too much silence. You need to get yourself together. “You guys came!”

Put a little pep in your step! And more joy in your voice- nobody wants to listen to someone so drained.

Steve shrugs. “I wanted to see it.”

Bucky just smolders, clearly saying with his silence, “I didn’t.”

“Did you like it?”

Steve considers your question. The elevator stops at another floor and the doors slide open, but there’s nobody waiting to step inside. You wait for Steve to gather his words together, sure that he’s trying to come up with a nice way to voice whatever he’s thinking, which is definitely not nice. There’s no way that he liked the art, not one chance.

“It was… intriguing,” he says, at last. Neither of them are wearing hats today, because the museum doesn’t allow it. Even in this artificial light, his hair shines, golden-blond. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you say, without wasting a second. “The one of the red woman- it’s probably the best thing I’ve seen all year.”

“It’s only January,” Bucky grumbles.

His voice shocks you, sends an ice-cold jolt up your spine that you definitely dislike.

Steve turns to him, peering over your shoulder, surprised and disappointed. The two of them have a silent conversation with their eyes and you stand in the midst of it, waiting for the goosebumps to settle back down, waiting for the chill to go away.

It’s difficult- he clearly doesn’t like you, either- and even if he has his own troubling little backstory, which you don’t care enough about to google, it’s not justified.

But…

It almost makes his aggression... amusing.

“It is January,” you say politely, dismissing him. “Great observation.”

The elevator reaches the ground floor and the doors side open. You exit in step with Steve, with Bucky right on your heels.

You all stand around in the museum lobby, a wide hallway down from the giftshop and a small cafe.

“Are you headed out?” Steve asks. He puts his hands in his pockets, feet planted wide.

Bucky crosses his arms. He’s wearing all black. If it were anyone else, you would make a joke- he could almost pass off as a pretentious art student, if the outlines of his body weren’t so visible through his clothes, all taut muscle and sharp angles. His hair curls over his shoulders, prettier than anything you’ve seen on any girl.

These guys are Avengers, you think, and proceed to push the thought away.

They look so… un-Avenger-y.

“Um.” You press a hand against your forehead, trying to formulate a response. Chores suddenly seem miles away, the last thing you should be doing. You have all of Sunday to complete them, anyway.

“I was going to get something to eat from the cafe first,” you say, nodding over in its direction. “You guys wanna join me?”

You don't know why you look at Bucky when you say it

“Sure!” Steve says, all cheery, still standing alongside you. He smiles and his teeth are pearly white.

Of course his teeth are pearly white. Dentists everywhere are probably cowering, clutching their little metal instruments for dear life.

Then he hesitates, and turns to Bucky. “If you have nothing else to do, I mean.”

Bucky pauses. You and Steve both stare him down.

“They have these raspberry-almond muffins that are to die for,” you say, like it’ll convince him.

He rolls his eyes. Bored and still gorgeous- if only.

“I’m free,” he says, and you don’t know why he looks at you when he says it.

You pay the bored teenager working the cash register with cash. He gives you your change, and when he turns away to prepare your order, you shove half of the bills and all of your coins into the tip jar.

Bucky sits at the farthest table with Steve. His knees can barely fit underneath it, and the tabletop is sticky, and he’s now willingly spending more time here, and with no disguise there is no way that he isn’t going to be recognized by someone, and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t fully booked it yet.

Because…

He doesn’t know.

Maybe because you’re not asking for anything from him, aren’t minding that he’s sullen or unapproachable or anything else- his presence seems to be enough for you, which is bothersome, and at the same time, mildly exciting.

“Are you having fun?” Steve asks, while you smile at the teenager handing you plates of muffins, little glasses of some milky-espresso-coffee drink.

“What do you think?” Bucky asks, while you start your journey back to the table, and Steve opens his mouth to respond, already bothered, and Bucky’s already guilty, but then Steve hops up to help you carry everything back.

You sit down laughing. Steve is laughing, too. The corners of your eyes crease and he can see all of your teeth, and you look at him for a split second, and then turn away before he can get a read on your expression.

He sits in silence, while you and Steve trade jokes and stories and easy banter, talking about art and local politics and all types of things he can’t bring himself to care about, things that Steve is relishing in. You’re witty, apparently, or at least quick enough to get a few quick laughs out of Steve, and Bucky would never say it, he’s barely thinking it, but he appreciates you for it.

And the muffin isn’t quite to die for, but it’s okay.

During a lull in the conversation, you break your attention away from Steve and turn back to Bucky. You look concerned, almost, still smiling but without showing all of your teeth, leaning towards him like you’re about to tell him a secret.

“I never apologized for before,” you say, and Bucky immediately sits up on edge.

Even Steve goes wary, eyes narrowing.

You suddenly give a long, weary sigh, and press a hand against the back of your neck, like whatever you’re about to say is going to be so tedious. “For my friend flipping out when she saw you guys- she’s literally crazy, she’s always doing too much- but on her behalf, I’m sorry.”

The silence following afterwards is deafening.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, after a long moment, while you’re still looking at Bucky- your eyes make his skin itch, and he doesn’t say anything else. “She’s not the worst that we’ve gotten.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything.

“Okay, great,” you say, and you slump back in your seat, looking away, back to your half-eaten muffin. You pick off an almond from the top and eat it. “Glad we got that out of the way. I just thought it would be weird if I didn’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, so polite, even though you’ve done nothing to deserve his thanks. “Have you known her for a long time?”

“Yes, oh my god,” you say, and readjust yourself in your chair again, accidentally bumping your knee against Bucky’s, but not apologizing for it. He glances underneath the table, at your entire bare knee, visible through a rip in your jeans. “Rina- her name is Rina- was my college roommate for a while.”

“You went to college?” Steve asks.

“I have an art degree,” you say dryly, “which was… an okay decision, I guess. Sometimes I think I should have just dropped out and done, like, stand-up or something.”

You clearly don’t want to discuss it, leaving the last part as some sort of rhetorical joke. Steve takes the hint and nods, already closing the chapter, and you take a sip from your little glass, finally silent. The foam on the top of the drink sticks to your mouth until you lick it off. Bucky replies to it anyway.

“Why stand-up?”

You turn to him so fast that he almost misses you faltering, and give him a dazzling smile. He thinks of your bare knee under the table, and tries not to sweat. “Because I’m funny, Bucky.”

He doesn’t like how his name sounds when you say it. “Tell me a joke.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, and clasp your hands together. Steve is watching, rapt at attention. “Let me think real quick- oh, I have one. Which beverage has a black belt in karate?”

Bucky waits.

You wait, expecting something from him.

It’s Steve that has to say, “I don’t know, which beverage?”

“Fruit punch,” you say, exaggerating the last part, and Bucky just keeps on waiting.

Steve cracks a small smile.

“Let me tell you another,” you say. “What type of phone does a piece of fruit carry?”

Steve takes a few wild guesses. He’s enjoying this, and you are too, both of you feeding off of each other. “A phone-fruit. A fruit-phone. A frone?”

You shake your head. “A blackberry.”

Bucky doesn’t tell you that he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“Tough crowd,” you say, when he doesn’t react. “Don’t worry, I have more. Where do you go on red and stop on green?”

“Where?’ Steve asks, waiting, leaning forward in anticipation.

“When you’re eating a watermelon!”

It is not funny, it’s painfully unfunny, and maybe that’s why you and Steve burst out laughing. Bucky steals a glance at your watch, since he doesn’t wear one of his own. It’s nearing noon- how has so much time passed? Why is he still even here when he doesn’t even like you?

“Why are all of them about fruit?”

You look at him like his question is the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard. “What food is the best listener?”

Bucky just sits. All the foam in his little espresso thing has dissolved, having been left untouched. He doesn’t like the taste of coffee- too bitter, and caffeine doesn’t work on him, anyway. Maybe he should drink it, because you paid for it, and because you didn’t make a comment about old-fashioned manners or chivalry when Steve offered to at first, just shrugged and got in line.

He knows that you won’t care.

The drink sits on its own, glass beading with condensation.

“Corn is the best listener,” you say, without waiting for Steve to throw his questions or guesses at you, without waiting for Bucky to spit out another sentence. “Because it’s all ears.”

“That wasn’t funny,” he says, and glares at the spot beside your head.

You nod sympathetically, and he thinks again of the rips in your jeans. “I know. But it was about a vegetable.”

Oh.

You stare at him straight-faced, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve does the same, and then he realizes- the two of you are a bunch of kids, punks, juveniles- mocking his stature, pretending to be serious, somehow not offending him.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky says. “You’re…”

He can’t even help it. He looks back at you  and his face works on its own. He gives a single, dry chuckle, but he’s smiling, and dragging his hand over his face, scrubbing it off just as fast, but you still see it, and smile back and gently nudge his knee again underneath the table, and then turn back away again, and he’s still staring at your hair while you take big bite out of your to-die-for raspberry-almond muffin, already back in conversation with Steve.

[sunny-flower-girl-01]

Ohana- A Hawaii Five-0 Fanfic Chapter Four

This chapter is super long, so I apologize in advance lol. I’m hoping to still have the next chapter up next week, but I won’t has as much free time to write at work like normally do. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRIDAY NIGHT STEVE MCGARRETT’S HOME STEVE’S POV: 

“See, Gracie? You have to wait 4 minutes before you flip it, or it doesn’t get cooked on both sides.” I said, flipping one of the burgers over. She nodded that she understood, her arms wrapped around my neck to hold on since I had her up on my hip so she could see the grill better. We were just waiting on Thea and Nora to arrive, so I went ahead and started the food and asked Grace to be my helper. 

Mindy, Kono, and Max were in the kitchen getting the rest of the food together. Danny walked up behind me, nudging me in the shoulder and holding his arms out for Grace. She grinned and jumped into her dad’s arms. “Are you teaching my daughter the incorrect way to grill a burger?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Daniel.” I said sarcastically. I flipped another burger and glanced back at Danny’s girlfriend that he brought with him today, Kari. “So, how is Kari doing?”  She was nice, blonde, and a paralegal. She seemed to get on with all of us just fine, minus Grace. Which, in my mind, was more important than her being friendly with us. It was very obvious that Grace wasn’t a fan of the woman. She had stuck with me for the whole hour that she’d been here already and had already asked me 4 times when Nora was going to come. Kari didn’t seem to be that big of a fan of Grace either. She gave Grace an indifferent smile when she became the center of attention, and with our group, that was quite a lot. We all loved that little girl. Overall, I wasn’t too impressed with her and was sure Danny and I were going to talk about it tonight when everyone went home. 

Danny shrugged. “She’s fine. She’s enjoying getting to know you guys.” I saw Grace roll her eyes and push away from her dad to be let down. I knew bringing up Kari around Grace like that probably wasn’t the best idea. Danny set her down and she immediately made her way back up to the house. Thankfully, he didn’t see her eye roll. 

“I’m going to wait for Auntie Thea.” She said. 

Before I had a chance to say it, Danny took a step closer to me. “Grace doesn’t like Kari.” He said quietly. 

I tried my best to hold back a laugh. “I could have told you that, buddy.” 

Danny sighed and smoothed his hair down. “God, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I mean, Kari is nice but Grace means more to me. She knew I had a kid and she just isn’t that interested in getting to know her.” He glanced over at the table I had set up across the yard where Kari was sitting with Malia, Chin, Adam, and Charlie. I felt bad for Danny. He had always told me that dating with a kid was difficult, but I had never seen him really struggle with it. It made me think about what it would be like with two kids. I tried to think about it but really the only person I wanted to be with was already having my kids. Since I found out that Thea was pregnant and we were spending some time together and we were talking more, I’ve really come to like and care about her than just the mother of my unborn children. And Nora has become really special to me like Grace has. I did invite her because the team wanted to meet her, but I also wanted her to get to know them like I know them. If I was gonna try and pursue this with her, I wanted all my ohana to get along. 

“Danno! Uncle Steve! Nora is here! Look! We’re matching!” Grace and Nora came running out of the house hand in hand. They were both wearing the same romper outfit over their bathing suits, but Nora was wearing navy and Grace was in army green. 

Danny and I both smiled at the two girls. “My two favorite girls, wearing my two favorite colors!” I said, scooping them both up into my arms causing them to giggle loudly. I looked up to see Thea walking out the back door with Mindy and Kono who were carrying bowls of food out. I smiled at her. She had on a blue and white polka dot dress. She smiled over at me, her eyebrows raising slightly when she saw me holding up both girls. I couldn’t help but grin at her. I loved watching her smile and seeing the dimples on her cheeks. 

‘God, she looks amazing’ 

“Can we go play in the sand?” Nora asked, staring over at the beach. I remembered Thea telling me she loved the water. I set both girls down and handed the spatula to Danny to finish manning the grill. 

“We’re about to eat so I’ll tell you what,” I said, looking at them. “After we eat, I’ll take you both out into the water. That way Danno doesn’t have to get his hair wet.” The girls giggled when Danny smacked me in the arm. 

“Hey, it takes a lot of product to make it look this good.” He claimed. 

Thea, Mindy and Kono walked to us. Nora quickly started to tell her mom about how we were going to go swimming after we eat. Thea smiled at the little girl who was practically bouncing. “That sounds great baby.” 

Mindy and Kono set their bowls down on the table that was set up for the food. “Alright that’s all of it boss. Let us know when to come make our plates.” Kono nodded. Mindy made her way back to the table with Nora while Kono linked arms with Thea and led her over to the group over at the table. I remembered Thea telling me that she and Kono went to high school together. It comforted me a little bit that not everyone here was a complete stranger to her. 

I watched them walk to the table and Kono started to introduce her to everyone. She had a smile on her face the whole time and took a seat right next to Malia. My family felt complete watching everyone sit and have fun together. 

I must have been staring for a bit because when I looked at Danny after he obnoxiously cleared his throat, he had the burgers on a plate and was setting them on the food table. “Stare some more, I don’t think she noticed.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Seriously. Maybe it’s time to thaw your heart and tell her you want to be with her.” Danny said, grabbing two paper plates. He handed me one. “Alright Super Seal. It’s time for your Dad Training.” 

“My what?”

“Your Dad Training.” He said. “You’re about to have not just one but two babies you’re responsible for. On top of that you’re practically in love with a woman who has a 7-year-old.” 

“Hey-” 

“So, do what I do and make Nora’s plate for Thea. The girls are going to eat at the table up on the lanai.” He gestured for me to copy him. 

“This is ridiculous.” I sighed but started to make the plate like he was. “I’m going to assume you know what Nora likes to eat.” 

He nodded. “She’ll basically eat everything but she’s allergic to onions. So, don’t put her food anywhere near onions.” He filled up the plate with a burger, plain with ketchup, mac and cheese, salad, beans, and the fruit salad. I did the same, quickly avoiding the small plate of onions that was set out for people to put on their burgers. I glanced up at Danny. 

“Should these even be out?” I didn’t want to risk her eating them and something happening. I think Danny noticed my small moment of panic and placed his hand on my shoulder. 

“No, idiot, she’s not going to go into anaphylactic shock by looking at them. She just can’t eat them or anything they’ve contaminated. She’s good about avoiding them or telling people she can’t eat them. Thea and Rachel both did give me a big speech about it the first time I had her over for a sleepover with Grace though. She always has an epi-pen when she isn’t with Thea- so get that nervous look off your face, it’s fine.” He handed me one of the plastic forks and turned to look over at the table. “Gracie, Nora! Come on time to eat, guys!” 

The crowd was laughing as they made their way over to the food table. Danny and I went and set the girls plates on the smaller table closer to the house. Grace has pretty much claimed it as her table anytime she is over. There were marks all over it from craft projects she had done on it. “Grace, go show Nora where the juice boxes are. When we get done and clean up, we can go for a swim, okay?” I said to her and watched them run off into the house. 

Danny rushed off to go make his plate with Kari as Thea walked up behind me. “Her burger doesn’t have onions on it does it?” She asked. She had that same nervous look on her face I’m sure I had a few moments ago. 

“No no, Danny told me she’s allergic. I just put ketchup on it.” I said softly. 

She looked a little shocked but smiled softly at me. “Thank you for making her plate.” 

‘Damn that smile will be the death of me’ 

I put my arm around her shoulders casually. “Let’s go eat before our friends eat all the food.” 

She laughed and nodded. We made our plates and sat next to each other at the large table. I noticed she constantly had a hand on her stomach, almost like she was nervous. Kono quickly pulled her into the conversation she was having with Malia and Charlie. 

“Thea used to surf with us in high school. She could have totally been pro if she wanted.” Kono said. 

Thea laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I was good, but nowhere pro level.” 

Mindy shrugged. “I don’t know, T. You definitely could have taken on Kalakaua.” She teased, causing Kono to throw the cap of her Longboard at her. I leaned back and watched the girls interact. Danny was having a semi-private with Kari. I couldn’t hear them, but I could tell from the look on his face he was upset, and Kari didn’t have a care in the world. I gave him a look, asking if he was alright. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head. He and Grace have that eye roll down pat. By the time we had both turned back to the group, the topic had changed. 

“Oh, trust me, Danny has several things to say about Steve’s crazy behavior.” Chin laughed as he drank his beer. 

“Crazy how?” Thea asked, turning to look at me and then over at Danny. I looked at Danny, silently asking him not to tell her anything but he ignored me. 

“Oh, this crazy bastard got me shot our first day working together.” Danny said extremely calmly. 

“You what!” Thea exclaimed, her eyes wide looking at me.

“Hey, I apologized! It was just an arm graze.” I said, putting my hands up to defend myself. “You were fine, you even punched me in the face.” 

“Yeah that was after you put me in an arm lock!” 

“Danny it was over a year ago, get over it.” 

“I-” I cut Danny off by changing the subject. 

“Anyway, anything else to talk about that doesn’t revolve around me?” I said, whacking Danny in the arm. 

Malia spoke up. “So, do you guys know what you’re having yet?” 

Thea and I both shook our heads. “No, we might find out in 3 weeks. Our last appointment the doctor said if they’re in the right position we should be able to tell.” Thea said while she stroked her stomach. 

“Are you planning on having a gender reveal?” Kono asked. I gave a confused look. 

“A what?” 

“It’s where the expecting parents invite friends and loved ones to find out the gender of the baby, or in your case, babies, after the ultrasound. Typically, the parents don’t know either. It usually involves a mild, but colorful powder explosive or a pink or blue cake.” Max piped up from the end of the table. 

“Jesus, why’d you have to say explosive?” Danny shook his head. 

Thea looked at me and then Kono. “Uh, we haven’t really thought about it.” 

“Do you want to do something like that?” I asked her. 

She nodded. “I think it’d be fun, if you’re up for doing it.” 

“Oh, he’s always ready to blow something up.” Danny chimed in. I rolled my eyes and told him to shut it. “Rachel and I did a cake for Grace’s gender reveal. White icing and a strawberry cake since it was a girl.” 

“Maybe we could make two smaller cakes. One for baby A and one for baby B.” Mindy smiled. 

“My aunt makes cakes for gender reveal parties all the time at her bakery, I’m sure she could do two for you.” Kono said. Thea just looked at me with a smile on her face. 

“What do you think?” She asked me. I had never done anything like this, or even heard of anyone doing it. 

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. “It sounds like it could be fun. If you want to do something, we can.” I smiled at her. She turned to Mindy. 

“Alright but you have to plan it.” She laughed. The conversation moved on while we continued to eat. Max went into a long explanation about his fossil collection before Danny interrupted him. Despite my trying to keep the conversation off the “dangerous” things I do for work, the team ended up telling more stories about me. I was nervous she was gonna get scared off by some of them. We did have a long conversation about my line of work and what it entails. I wasn’t gonna be home the same time every single night, I was going to be in danger, and I could get called in at any moment. She told me that she understood and as long as I was making an effort to be there, that was good enough for her. I had gotten a better understanding of her childhood out of that conversation too. Her and Nora’s father was almost never around, and their mom was checked out. I had gotten a bit more information from Mindy about her background. Thea basically had Nora from the moment she was born. Her mom was incapable of raising her and Thea didn’t trust her to raise another baby. Her mother gladly handed her off to Thea. I lost my mother at a young age, but to know she was physically here and not involved would have killed me, I couldn’t even imagine that. 

After everyone was finished eating, the table was cleaned up and the food was put away. Everyone went on with their activities. Max, Charlie, and Chin were sitting and drinking longboards. Malia, Kari, and Kono were gathered around the fire pit that Danny had started up even though it wasn’t dark yet. I had gotten Grace and Nora ready to go in the water. Danny was standing about knee deep in, refusing to join us any farther than that. Mindy and Thea were sitting in the sand. They had both shed their clothes to sit in their bathing suits. It took everything in me to keep my eyes off of Thea and focus on the two 7-year old’s demanding my attention. I swam around in the water with the girls for a while, enjoying the intense game of Marco Polo they started and teasing Danny about not wanting to come join us.

Later after it got dark, everyone was gathered around the bonfire. I guess I wore the girls out because Grace was asleep in Danny’s lap and Nora was asleep, curled up at my side. I had my arm over her to keep her from slipping off the bench we were sitting on. Thea was on my other side, my arm over the back of the bench behind her. It felt nice having them both this close to me. 

“Jeez Steve, you really wore them out.” Danny said, looking down at his daughter. 

Thea shrugged. “It’ll make bedtime easier for Rachel, that’s for sure.” She said, yawning herself. Both their phones pinged at the same time. “Speaking of, I guess she’s here.” Danny got up, still cradling a sleeping Grace in his arms. He walked up the house. Kari followed behind him. Thea stood up and looked like she was about to take Nora from me. I shook my head and stopped her. 

“I can carry her for you.” I said. I stood up and gently placed the sleeping girl on my chest, her head resting on my shoulder. Her arms came up and wrapped around my neck. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking a little nervous. I wanted her to know that I wasn’t scared of kids, and that I didn’t care that she already had a kid. Again, I was thinking about the comments that Danny had made about dating with a kid. 

I nodded. “Yeah, I got her. You don’t need to be carrying her anyway.” 

We walked out to the front of the house. Danny was putting Grace in the backseat. Kari and Rachel looked like they were having a stare down. Thea sighed. 

“Here we go.” I heard her mumble before looking at me. “There’s already a booster seat in the back for her, if you’ll put her in, I’ll buckle her up.” 

“I can do it.” I said, but quickly realized how demanding that probably sounded to her. “I mean, if it’s okay with you, so you don’t have to bend down-” 

“It’s fine, Steve.” She put a hand on my arm and smiled gently at me. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.” Her eyes glanced down at her hand. 

I took my hand that was on Nora’s back and put it on hers, squeezing gently. “Look, Thea, I don’t care to help out. With Nora or anything you need, okay?” 

She squeezed back and nodded; her eyes looked like they were watering up but she turned away before I could really see. She went over to Rachel while I carefully placed Nora in her booster seat. Danny stayed bent down in the car to show me how to maneuver the seatbelt. I was shocked at how easy it was. 

“Oh, don’t go thinking you’re a pro just yet, booster seats are easy. Just wait until you’re trying to put a squirming baby in a car seat with multiple straps and buckles.” He said, kissing Grace’s head and closing her door. 

“You’re really helping calm my nerves about this Danny.” 

“It’s what I do best.” 

Thea’s POV:

I went up to Rachel and gave her a hug. I knew she and Stan were going to talk about a divorce tonight, that’s why Grace was with Danny this afternoon. I wasn’t sure if she exactly told Danny what her plans were though. 

“I told him.” She whispered. I could tell she had been crying recently. “I told him and here I am having a staring contest with Danny’s girlfriend.” She rubbed her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater. 

I rubbed her arms soothingly. “It’s gonna be okay.” I tried to comfort her. “We can talk more about it tomorrow after the apartment showing.” Rachel and I were finally going to look at some new apartments and condos for me and Nora. She nodded, sniffling as she gave me a hug. I pulled back to look at her. “Are you gonna be okay with the girls tonight? I don’t care to take them if you need to be alone tonight.” 

She shook her. “No, I’ll be fine. I think some time with them might be what I need. Stan packed a bag and left after we argued, so he won’t be home.” 

I walked to the car to kiss Nora bye even though she was still asleep. 

“Are you okay?” Danny asked her. He probably saw how upset she was. I glanced over at Kari then looked at Steve. It was obvious he picked up on the anger radiating off of the blonde woman. 

“I’m fine Daniel. I’ll call you next week.” She said shortly and got in her car. The four of us stood and watched her drive off. Kari stormed off to her car, Danny quickly following her. We could hear the argument starting so we headed back to the backyard. 

“I’m gonna say bye to everyone and head home.” I told him. “Rachel and I are going to look at apartments tomorrow.” 

“You’re moving?” He asked, holding the back gate open for me. 

“Yeah, my apartment is only two bedrooms and the stairs up to it are starting to kill me.” I laughed. He looked at me like he wanted to say something. “What?” 

“Oh, nothing. Just let me know if you need any help.” He said, giving me a smile. “I know you’re not incapable of doing things yourself and I’m sorry if I’ve made it seem that way. I just want to be able to help.” 

I stopped walking and put my hand on his arm to stop him. “I know, and I really appreciate it. Just going to appointments with me and helping me with the doctors’ bills has helped more than you know. I promise I’m not over doing it.” I told him seriously. “Also quit listening to Danny about how scary pregnancy is.” I laughed. Steve laughed too, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, Danny has been giving me advice.” He chuckled. 

“Yeah, that Dad Training advice might come in handy though.” I giggled and walked towards the group. Everyone looked like they were getting ready to go. I heard Steve groan behind me. 

“Oh, God. You heard that!” 

After saying goodbye to everyone and giving a round of hugs, Steve walked me out to my car. 

“Thank you for inviting us tonight.” I said. 

He grinned at me. “I’m glad you had a good time. You and Nora are welcome here any time. I know she absolutely loved the beach, just like you said.” 

I laughed. “Oh, yes, she’s my water baby for sure.” I got in my car and Steve closed my door for me. “Let me know when you get home, okay?” I nodded and waved as I pulled out and headed toward my apartment. 

After my 10-minute drive, I parked and went to check the mail before slowly climbing the stairs to the apartment. I looked through the mail as I closed and locked my door. A large yellow envelope caught my eye. I set all my things down on the bar in the kitchen and opened it. 

Peter Kenwood, Plaintiff

Theodora Kenwood, Defendant 

Petition for Change of Custody

My breath caught in my throat. I reached for my phone and my first thought was to call Mindy. ‘No, she’s going home with Charlie tonight.’ My next thought was to call Rachel. ‘She has the girls, I can’t push this on her too’ I braced myself on the bar and sat down, dialing the number on my phone. 

“Hey, did you make it home?” Steve asked me after he answered. I was silent, trying not to let my tears fall. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, they fell anyway. 

“Can you come over?” My voice broke. 

I heard some shuffling on the other end. “Thea, what’s wrong?” He asked, concerned. 

“I-I just really need you.” 

[annaraebananawriter]

(Part One) One Day, You’ll be Better

Yellow there, here. Have another oneshot. Part 2 will be out hopefully sometime this month too, so keep an eye out. And yes, this is centered around Error, along with Fresh and Geno, the Momma CQ brothers. 

Why? Because I wanted to. Enjoy!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Momma CQ/Modern

Characters: Error, Fresh, Mentioned Geno (Who belongs to Loverofpiggies(CQ)), Ink (Who belongs to Comyet), Dream and Nightmare (Who both belong to Joku)

Warnings: Heavy talk of Suicide, Suicide Ideation, Suicide Attempt,Suiciadal Thoughts, Deppresive Thoughts, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Hatred and Other Thing Like That. I think that’s it, and please let me know!

Word Count: 3054

~oOo~

Error had a plan: in a week's time, he would lock himself in his apartment, summon some strings, tie those strings around his neck, stand on a chair, jump, and he would kill himself.

Now, while this may come off as surprising and concerning, Error had actually been thinking about it a lot this past year. When the thought first popped into his head, yes, he was scared, who wouldn't be? But as time went on and the days became more blurred, the thought came up more and more. He slowly grew used to it, eventually entertaining the possibilities of how he could die, what that would mean, how people would react...things like that.

(Often, he would pass by a bride and his body would tingle with the thought of jumping off, ending quickly.

Often, when he had to use scissors, a box cutter, or anything sharp, really, his arms would tingle with the thought of being sliced, ending slowly, with time to wallow in his thoughts.

Often, he would stare at the one ceiling fan in his home and his neck would tingle with the thought of hanging there, his neck either snapping or him slowly suffocating, vision darkening, perhaps the nicest of them all.

Often, when he thought of death, his body would tingle with what it might feel like.)

However, he managed to hang onto life by remembering his brothers, his mom, Uncle Asy and Ink. He would repeat to himself that they would be heartbroken, sad, guilty and so many other things if he went through with his thoughts, if he indulged them. But as the days blurred and the thoughts grew, his excuses turned dim, hesitant...questioning.

Would they care, really?

Would they be sad, actually?

Or would they be angry at him? Angry that he took the easy way out?

Would they be disappointed?

...was it really worth it to stick around?

Error, honestly, didn't think so. He wouldn't even be here to see the side effects of his decision, if he succeeded. However, if he tried and he failed, then they would surely be said disappointed and angry. They would blame him for letting his feelings get the best of him. Especially Fresh, who had taken such a long time to understand emotions, to even feel them himself, who took extra care to make sure he didn't feel too much of this, too much of that, too little of this, too little of that.

Fresh would be so, so disappointed in him. He might be confused at first, wondering why, exactly, his big brother, who was always so angry, think it was a good idea to off himself? Oh, yeah, he was an idiot. A big, selfish, messed up idiot. He would shake his head at Error and laugh to himself, wondering how someone could that pathetic.

...maybe he was projecting, just a tiny bit...

Geno and Mom, on the other hand, would take it a bit harsher. Maybe there would be a few tears shed between them as they wondered why as well. Why, oh why, did he go and take the easy way out? Why must he be so cruel? But after the tears were shed, they would be angry, surely. They would think, how dare he do this to us? Make use wallow in misery, just as he did? He should've handled it better. He should've been stronger.

...oh, look. He was projecting again.

Damn.

Error didn't know his family anymore. He hasn't spoken to them on over a year and when he tried to before, everyone would make excuses to go somewhere else, leave the room, like he made them uncomfortable. Sometime along the way since he was a child until now, he had fallen out of sync with them. Fallen out of orbit. Now, he was floating around, linked to nothing, watching everyone do so much better than him.

He felt nothing.

He felt like he could just...explode into nothingness and no one would care.

He could die...and no one would care.

He just had to last five more days.

~oOo~

Five more days

"Hey, Error! Wait up!" Ink called out and he stopped on his way to class, turning around. Ink reached him and folded, hands on his knees, panting.

Error waited.

Ink eventually straightened up and they continued walking, the artist rambling about things while the aspiring coder and video game maker made a few comments here and there. This was the only time Error really saw Ink, as the other had other friends who took priority over him, though because Ink had known him the longest, he kept coming back. Error didn't understand why.

If you had something the longest, but had no more interest in it, you threw it out, correct? You didn't use it anymore. You didn't want it anymore, and while it had some fond memories, you just didn't have room for it anymore. You throw things like that out. So, why did Ink keep coming back to him, to try and talk to Error, even if he never spoke back?

It didn't make any sense.

Error sighed quietly; the sound drowned out by Ink's continued talking. He looked over to the window, looking down, down...down. They were on a pretty high floor of their college and the ground looked so far away. He could faintly see dots that moved around and figured they must be people.

His body tingled and he stared, seeing nothing but him jumping out the window, falling, looking into the beautiful night sky above. Feeling peace at last as the ground rose, rose and rose to claim him. He landed with some kind of noise, neck and limbs broken, a smile on his face, dead eyes staring up, up, up...

Ink's voice faded into his fantasy. "Error?"

Error blinked, his illusion cracking. His body still tingled slightly as he looked back to Ink, who stared at him with a furrowed brow, like he knew something was wrong but couldn't explain it. Hah, welcome to his world, do not enjoy your stay.

Before Ink could continue, his other friends called for him from ahead. Ink brightened like he never did around Error and said a quick goodbye, running up to Dream and Blue. He was gone before Error could say anything back.

Error stared blankly around the hallway, which was now almost empty.

Just like how he felt.

Maybe a week was too much time, he mused, not feeling up to class anymore.

~oOo~

(From a few hallways away, Ink paused in the middle of his rambling, a feeling of concern rising all of a sudden. He thought back to Error, how he had stared out the window with a blank expression on his face. It had unnerved him, and still does.

He had the strangest feeling that that face meant something, and that something was concerning and wrong. But he just couldn't place his finger on it.

"Ink?" Dream called, making Ink jolt and look to him with wide eyes. Dream looked concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Ink blinked, trying to clear his head. "Nothing, nothing. I'm fine."

Dream still looked concerned but didn't press. Ink was grateful, like always, and they both looked to the front where the professor was finally starting the lesson. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something about Error was wrong and he needed Ink's help.)

~oOo~

Four more days

"You're quitting?" Nightmare asked, sounding surprised.

Error stared at him blankly, feeling nothing. Empty. He had been working in the bar for a couple of years now, what did it matter? They had enough employees. It was fine. They wouldn't miss him. He wasn't even good at the job, anyways. Nightmare was better at it then he was. It would be fine.

Nightmare sighed. "Well, alright then." He looked Error up and down and furrowed his brow. "Just...take care of yourself, okay?" That was wired. It was like he was concerned about something he shouldn't be. He should be glad he was going.

No matter.

Error turned and left; his goal accomplished.

It was fine.

Everything would be fine in four days.

~oOo~

(As the days passed, Ink felt more and more concerned. He hadn't seen Error since their talk in the hallway and that made him sad. He liked Error and wanted to catch up with him, but life had been so busy. It didn't help that Error seemed so...dead whenever they met. Like he had nothing left to live for...

Which made alarms sound in Ink's mind. He grew more worried, wondering what it could mean, but not wanting it to be the truth. He didn't want Error to die, so he hoped that Error didn't either.)

~oOo~

Two more days

Error stared at his ceiling. He wouldn't sleep tonight and he doubted he would have the energy to get up in the morning. Maybe he'd die in his sleep, pass on by peacefully, unaware. It was unlikely. He wished it would happen. Then, nobody could blame him.

He would be free.

Two more days. That's it. He could handle it.

Then, he could soar.

~oOo~

(Ink's worry became too much for him. The flags were waving and the alarms were sounding too much for him to deny things any longer. He got his phone and found a number quickly. He needed help. The phone rang twice before being answered.

"Wassup?"

"Fresh, I need you to come over. Now.")

~oOo~

One more day

Error slammed the door to his apartment. Today had been terrible. He couldn't describe it, it was just...there was this heaviness weighing him down, making him tired and confused. The hours blurred together and he had no sense of being present until now.

He was so tired. Not the tired you can fix by sleeping. This was a tiredness drawn deep in his bones, something he could never get rid of. It weighed him down, made him restless, heavy, sick. It made him want to curl up and stay like that for days on end, ignoring the world around him. It fueled his desire to die. He hated it, yet he couldn't imagine himself without it. It was forever a contradiction.

A burst of panic made Error gasp and drop to the floor, head in his hands.

He didn't understand why he was like this. He was supposed to be better now. In the days leading up to his death, he should be content and happy. He should be relishing in the fact that he was about to die. But he couldn't. He just felt worse and worse and he didn't know why. He's lasted this long, so why was it still so hard?

His eyes stung.

Error realized he was crying for the first time in months.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't live like this. He couldn't last another day, 24 hours like this. He just couldn't. The date would have to change. It would have to be tonight. It had to be. It had to be.

He had to kill himself tonight.

It all set: he quit, avoided Ink and made sure everything was prepared for the date. There's not a note because he has nothing to say, nothing they'd want to hear.

It was perfect.

It was the only way to stop his thoughts. The thoughts that swirled now.

'Selfish'

'Worthless'

'Idiot'

'Coward'

'Broken'

And so many more.

Yes, in order to silence everything, to mane thing right again, to make things better, he would kill himself tonight.

~oOo~

(Fresh woke up in the middle of the night on Ink's couch. They had talked and Fresh agreed to stay over. Now, he woke up with an itch in his mind, like something was wrong, something was happening that he needed to stop. Well...that could just be the lingering feelings from what Ink had told him.

I think Error...wants to die.

Hearing that about your brother is a scary thing, in Fresh's opinion. He couldn't sleep because of it. He kept thinking the thought over and wondering...why? Why did Error want to die? He just wondered. Sometimes you didn't need a reason to feel like that, you just needed to be tired. He had read that somewhere and wondered if that applied to Error.

He didn't know.

Fresh stood up, giving into himself. If he was going to worry like this, it wouldn't hurt to check on Error himself, see for it himself, right?)

~oOo~

One more day

Zero more days

This was it.

~oOo~

("Broseph?" Fresh called out, knocking on the door.

Silence, not even any movement. That made him nervous.

He couldn't help but think about what he might find if he went in.

Fresh looks to the doorknob, resting his hand on it. He hesitates. What if...

Worry and a need to know filled him and he pressed down.

What if...

The door opened. It was unlocked.

What if...he's too late?)

~oOo~

Error stared at his strings, his noose. They were still connected to his fingertips, but he had made sure they weren't connected to his cheeks, eyes. His eyes were blank. He was standing on a chair. This was the moment he had been waiting for, imagining. It was happening.

He would finally die.

For so long...so long, he had wallowed in this hellhole. He had felt nothing for years, but acted like he was happy and content because he didn't want anyone to worry, to make him talk. He wasn't someone they should bother with. Geno was the sick one, they should worry about him. Fresh was the emotionless one, they should worry about him. Error? He was just the angry one, the screw-up, the middle, everything others wanted to throw away.

And on some level, he wanted to feel this way, like everyone didn't care. If they didn't care, then they wouldn't bother talking to him, listening to him, calming him down. They lecture him, scold him, be angry with him, be disappointed in him. They would be happier. He needed that. If they cared, then that meant he was hurting them and he didn't want them to hurt. He wanted them happy. He wanted them to live.

And in order for that to happen, he would need to die.

Error would die. The sound of that promise made his day. His body thrummed with excitement and he wanted to grin. He would get his wish. He...god, it was so sickening but at the same time amazing...

He would die, he wanted to die.

All he had to do, was put the strings around his neck and step.

This was it.

This was—

"...Error?"

...

...Fresh? What—

The door.

Unlocked.

The door was unlocked. Must've been.

He forgot to lock the door. He forgot...to lock...the door. Now Fresh was here and he...he couldn't step off not, not with his younger brother in the room. That was wrong. This was wrong. Fresh shouldn't be here. Fresh needed to leave. Now.

"What are you doing here?" Error's words came out short. Clipped. Rushed.

'Don't look at him. Don't. Looking will make you feel things, or it might not, after all, we haven't felt in a while...but don't. You'll see embarrassment, anger, confusion, everything you want to avoid.' His mind chided him. 'You idiot, why'd you leave the door unlocked?! Pathetic, just pathetic.'

Error heard Fresh shift and he stubbornly kept his eyes ahead of him. "...I don't think that matters right now, bro." Fresh's voice was off. He wasn't speaking like some 90's reject. He sounded uncertain. Soft. It was wrong. "I think what matters, is what you're planning to do with those strings of yours and that chair."

Fresh's voice was shaking.

He was scared.

'Look what you've done. Because you're such a screw-up, you made your brother scared. We may have wanted that one in a lifetime ago, we don't anymore. Yet, what do you do? You make him scared. Huzzah for you! Here's another mistake to add to your dazzling collection, idiot.'

Error forced himself to take a breath and ignore that. "You should leave."

"I'm not going to, Error." Fresh was even quieter, almost a whisper now. "We need to talk."

Need. Not want or should. Need.

No, no, no.

Error didn't want to. He couldn't. He couldn't.

"No."

"Yes!" Fresh was out of his element here, Error knew that. "Error—just...please, step off the chair."

He was pleading now.

Fresh didn't want him to die.

He was getting in the way.

'Idiot'

He was disappointed—no, angry—no. Error didn't know anymore.

Fresh didn't want him to die and Error couldn't understand why.

He didn't understand.

'Pathetic'

"Error, please."

Error couldn't understand.

Fresh shouldn't be here.

Why was he still here?

He should be gone, Error should be dead and everything would be good. It would be fine.

Why was he still here?!

Error didn't understand.

"Error...?"

He didn't—

Couldn't—

'Worthless'

Dead—

Alive—

'Broken'

"Error, can you hear me? You need to breathe. Error. You need to breathe."

Error felt the ground beneath his feet. He was off the chair. How? When? Why? He shouldn't be alive right now. He should be dead. He had to be dead. Then everyone would move one and be happy together and leave to rot as he deserves. He didn't understand why he was still here, why he was still alive.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It didn't make sense.

Error felt trapped. Fresh was here, he shouldn't be, and Error was alive, he shouldn't be. He had to die. It was the only thought that made sense. What good was he if he was alive? He wasn't useful here. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here!

Everyone was moving on, everyone was getting better, so why couldn't he?

'Die, DiE, DIE'

"Error...breathe...you...focus...or...?"

Fresh was here. Fresh was talking.

Error couldn't hear him. The ground felt uneven, the walls felt to close, he couldn't breathe and he should be dead. He should be dead. He wanted to be dead. There wasn't enough air in the room. Error couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe?

The room spun and grew blurry. There still wasn't any air. Error felt heavy and he fell forward. Why? Error fell and blackness consumed him.

[lyranova]

A Fractured Diamond

Episode 3: The Dungeon

——

Hi guys~! So i’m sorry I haven’t posted this chapter in a while 😅, but here it is! I also want to quickly apologize that this one sucks and not much happens in it, i’ll try and make the next one better 💕! Also, i changed the episode numbers a bit lol!

Word Count: 1,784

Warnings: Mild Violence, Mild Swearing

It’s been a couple of months since Captain Vangeance forced Neva to work in a group, and surprisingly, she found her team was starting to grow on her. Even Klaus was, although he would still annoy her sometimes. But she learned to either brush it off or ignore it completely, the one thing she hadn’t been able to brush off though; was her Captain's off behavior.

He was gone more often than he was here, which wasn’t too unusual seeing as how he was a Captain. But still, it wasn’t normal; not for him. Anytime Neva went to go see him and ask him if everything was alright, he’d smile his usual smile, pat her on the head, and tell her she worried too much. It was annoying. She tried to keep track of his movements as discreetly as she could but she wasn’t good enough to outsmart him, he always sensed her mana. No matter how hard she tried.

Neva had to admit she was somewhat surprised he had decided to send her and the others to check out this new Dungeon that appeared on the border of the Clover and Diamond kingdom. She had figured the Captain would send Langris or Alecdora to come check it out, but instead he decided to send them. Although she wouldn’t complain, it was a way for their little squad to show everyone what they were made of. She stretched as they landed at Dungeon sight.

“ So what’s the plan?” Mimosa asked as she herself stretched as well, Yuno and Klaus both seemed to be trying to come up with some sort of idea.

“ Mimosa, don’t you have a spell that allows you to see the layout of a building?” Klaus asked her, she nodded and quickly cast the spell. They all gathered around her to look.

“ It looks like we’re directly above it.” Yuno muttered, Neva nodded in agreement before frowning a bit.

“ What are these two dots Mimosa?” She asked as she pointed, there were two bright dots that were almost directly underneath where the group stood. They didn’t appear to be moving, so what exactly was it?

“ Oh! Those are people, so that must mean we’re not the only ones to be sent out here to investigate.” Mimosa said, all of their faces turned serious. It was either another Magic Knight squad, or it was the Diamond Kingdom. Yuno looked around before speaking.

“ This will probably be the best way in. Klaus, you can use your steel magic and drill a hole into the ground for us to go through,” Yuno turned toward him before turning to Neva. “ you can make a diamond platform for us to stand on while I use my wind magic to help us descend safely.” Yuno added, Neva couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing on her face. He was a natural born leader. He raised an eyebrow.

“ What’s with that look?” He asked in his usual monotone voice, Neva shook her head before pulling out her grimoire.

“ Nothing.” She told him, Yuno sighed and shook his head in response before Klaus drilled a hole into the ground, Neva made her platform for them to stand on, and Yuno used his wind magic to lift them up and gently lower them into the dungeon.

“ Be on guard. We don’t know what we’re walking into.” Klaus warned, the others nodded in agreement. For all they know, they could be walking into a small army of Diamond Kingdom soldiers, and that would not be good.

—————-

What the small squad found was not what they were expecting; a young blonde haired boy and a silver haired girl were currently caught in what appeared to be a trap. A plant trap to be exact. Before Neva could send a diamond spell its way Yuno had used his wind magic to cut it down. After the group had landed the blonde hair boy came running up to them.

“ Hey Yuno.” He greeted Yuno cheerfully, when Neva looked at his face her eyes widened in surprise. He had a smirk on his face but his eyes held a fondness in them. Did they know each other?

“ Hey Asta.” He greeted. Neva had to admit she was a little surprised, she had thought he was like her; a loner. But surprise surprise he seemed to have a close friend, but then again, so did she. She looked the two teens up and down, her eyes settling on their robes. They were Black Bulls, her eyes narrowed slightly; why would the Wizard King send out another squad to investigate the dungeon? Whatever rested in this dungeon, must be very valuable if they were sending out two magic knight squads here to recover it. She heard Klaus sigh and turned to look ‘Oh great, here we go.’

“ Yuno, what was your reason for saving these two?” He asked irritatedly, Neva’s eyebrows raised; why wouldn’t they try to save them?! Apparently what Klaus had insinuated hit a nerve with Asta and he confronted him about it. Neva shook her head and couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her, it looked like they would be a while. She then turned her attention to the young woman with silver hair, wait, silver hair...Neva’s eyes narrowed and noticed she had two cross earrings. ‘No way, this girl is a Silva?!’ Neva thought in shock, shouldn’t she be a part of the Silver Eagles like the rest of her siblings.

“ Hi Noelle, it’s good to see you!” Mimosa said cheerfully, Noelle seemed to look shocked as she turned toward Mimosa.

“ Oh, Hi Mimosa. I’m surprised to see you here.” The girl, Noelle, said as she crossed her arms. Mimosa giggled.

“ As am I. I didn’t think they had sent out another squad to investigate.” She told her. Neva looked next to her and noticed Yuno was doing the same as her; watching the others interact. Apparently they both wanted to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

This, as Neva called it, small pissing contest went on for at least five minutes.

“ How about we race?! Whoever makes it to the center of the dungeon first is the winner!” Asta suddenly shouted, Klaus smirked before pushing up his glasses.

“ Fine! Challenge accepted! Mimosa scan the area, Yuno create a vessel for us to ride in, and Neva create a barrier to protect us from any traps or attacks!” Klaus ordered, the others simply nodded before doing as they were asked.

“ It was nice to meet you Asta, Noelle, see you guys at the center!” Neva shouted as Yuno’s wind current raised them higher, she saw a smirk on Asta’s face.

“ Not if we see you there first!” He shouted after them, Neva had to admit, even though she hadn’t interacted much with the two Black Bulls, they seemed to be an alright pair.

—————

As the Golden Dawn traveled a little ways Klaus decided it would be a good time to belittle the Black Bulls. Again. Neva rolled her eyes, ‘Doesn’t he ever get tired of putting others down just to make himself seem better?’ Neva thought with an annoyed sigh. This was part of the reason she hadn’t wanted to be on the same squad as him, she hated stuck up nobles and how they always wanted to be holier than thou. She watched Yuno turn to look at Klaus.

“ Don’t underestimate Asta. He’s one of the strongest people I know.” Yuno defended his friend, Klaus’s face turned a slight shade of pink before he went silent. ‘Finally.’ Neva thought with a satisfied smirk on her face.

After a few more minutes of traveling, Neva was beginning to get bored. The silence was gnawing at her and she needed someone to break it. So that’s exactly what she did.

“ How do you and Asta know each other, Yuno?” She asked, she noticed Yuno turn slightly to look at her and shrug.

“ We grew up together at the same orphanage.” He told her simply, Neva nodded slightly in understanding.

“ So, he’s like your brother?” She asked curiously, they sure acted like it even though she had only seen them interact for a couple of minutes at the most. She could tell they cared for each other. He looked contemplative for a moment before nodding.

“ I guess you could say that.” He agreed, Neva went to say something else before Mimosa spoke.

“ We’re almost there, it should be right up ahead!” She shouted and the others nodded before they came upon a giant door that led to the center of the dungeon.

“ Are you sure this is it Mimosa?” Klaus asked as he turned toward her, once she nodded in confirmation they turned back to the door.

“ So...how do we open it?” Neva asked, there didn’t seem to be a lock nor did there appear to be a mechanism to trigger that would open it.

“ Maybe it goes on magic power?” Mimosa suggested, the others half shrugged and half nodded, it would make sense; you had to have a certain level of mana in order to open it. That’s all they really had to go on at this point so it was worth a shot.

“ Yuno, try and hit it with one of your spells and see if that works.” Klaus ordered, Yuno sighed but began to cast a spell when, suddenly, Mimosa gasped in surprise.

Neva turned to her side and her eyes widened in fear, Mimosa was surrounded by what appeared to be diamond, her clothes ribbed, cuts appearing on her body.

“ Mimosa!” They all shouted in unison, Neva quickly pulled out her grimoire.

“ Diamond Creation magic: Diamond Shell!” She shouted before a huge dome made of diamond appeared around the golden dawn members. ‘Dammit! Where are they? I don’t see anyone!’ She thought as she gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning the area around them for their opponent, Klaus and Yuno doing the same.

Neva turned to look at Mimosa, ‘That...that looks like my magic! But somethings different about it, it’s made differently...which means..’ She trailed off, no, it couldn’t be...a soldier from the Diamond Kingdom?!

“ Show yourself!” Klaus shouted, suddenly a young man appeared from the shadows, casually, as though he had all the time in the world. Instantly all the members of the Golden Dawn tensed up, he was strong if his mana was anything to go by. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

“ Get out of my way.”

———-

Again I apologize this chapter sucks, I was reading on this arc again and I didn’t want to copy it word for word so that’s why it’s kinda choppy I’m sorry 😅! I probably should’ve just skipped this arc, but anyway I’m sorry again and I hope you guys enjoyed it I’ll make the next chapter better I promise I hope you all have a good day💕~!

[lu-undy]

I got a request, maybe sniper and spy decide to go on a double date with heavy and medic?

Here we go! It starts as a double date but turns into just Sniper and Spy (sorry I can’t write other ships, it just feels weird to me! ^^). But, to compensate, I tried to have a bit of an emotional one here so I hope you’ll get the “feels” as the cool kids say!

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in." 

"Are you ready - ah, yes, you are." Heavy entered Spy's suite. He found him putting on his coat. 

"So are you, I see." 

They both eyed each other and noticed how different they looked from when they wore their Mann Co. uniforms. Spy had put on a dark red suit with an assorted bowtie and white varnished shoes. He looked like a fish in a pond next to Heavy who had put on a tuxedo for the occasion but was visibly not as comfortable as his colleague. 

"Do I have my car keys…? Oui, right, let us go." And they exited the flat to soon find themselves in Spy's bright red Italian car. 

Of course, the Frenchman was driving. He put the key in and made the engine roar a sound that was only produced on dream cars, a rumbling worth more money than Heavy had ever spent. 

"C'mon doc', we'll be late!"

"Ja, just a minute!" 

And Medic proved to hold his word as a minute later, he emerged from his quarters, wearing a suit with a bowtie too. However, Sniper had just changed for non-Mann Co. clothing. 

"Bugger… Do I need to put on a suit for that?" He asked. 

"As you wish, although I'm sure Spy will show up with one." Medic answered. 

"Right…" Sniper winced. "Come to my van. You climb at the front, I'll get a change at the back…" 

They did as Sniper said and when the Aussie re-appeared behind the steering wheel, Medic didn't manage to hold a gasp. 

"What?" He shot an almost aggressive glance at the doctor. Sniper was clearly embarrassed. 

"Y-you look… Uh…" 

"Eyes on the map, in the glovebox, and tell me where that place is." 

Medic understood the message clearly enough and didn't discuss anything further. 

The trip took the mercenaries about an hour, a bit less and they arrived in town. 

Spy looked quickly at his colleague. How he managed to fit in his car was beyond him. 

"I wish you good luck, Heavy." 

"Thank you. I wish the same to you, Spy, though I know you won't need it." 

Spy raised an eyebrow and Heavy went on. 

"Sniper looks at you like the best thing that ever happened in his life. His eyes shine in a special way. Even Medic noticed it."

"I like to believe that Sniper is very obvious when it comes to his feelings."

"Da, but you are too, in your own way." 

"I am not." Spy coldly answered. 

"Hm." Heavy did not insist to avoid embarrassing his friend. They were tense enough as it was.

Meanwhile, in Sniper's van, the atmosphere was different. 

"So, uh…" Sniper scratched his cheek. "Ever been on a… a…"

"A date?" Medic asked. "I was once married, so yes, I've had lots of them by the past." 

"Ah, yeah." 

"Haven't you?" Medic asked back. 

"Not in a long time." 

The German doctor noticed that Sniper's fingers were drumming on the steering wheel nervously. He put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't be too nervous. I am sure it will go well." 

"I don't know, mate. Spy's a difficult bloke. I never know what he thinks or what he wants and he's got experience in those things, so much experience… It's like I'm a little boy next to him."

"Look at the good side of things."

"Which is?" Sniper asked. 

"He was either the one to suggest this date, or the one to accept it." 

Sniper looked at Medic. He was surprised to see that the crazy scientist could sometimes speak sense. 

"Bien." Spy stopped the car in front of the restaurant. "Here we are." 

[Well.]

Both him and Heavy exited the car and waited in front of the restaurant as they didn't see Sniper's iconic van. 

"They will arrive soon I hope." Heavy said. 

"No doubt." Spy was more confident in his ability to attract Sniper than Heavy was with Medic. "You will do just fine, Heavy. The only moments I have seen Medic behave almost like a human being are when he is in your company." 

Heavy looked down at his colleague who lit up a cigarette and puffed on it. Soon, the campervan arrived and parked a few metres away. The sun had set a long while ago so the only lights were shed by the lamp posts. Two silhouettes got out of the van, one taller than the other and with a hat. 

Heavy wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers while Spy crushed his cigarette and adjusted his tie. With a last look and a nod, they parted ways and Spy reconvened with Sniper. 

"I see you have found the place." He said. 

"Y-yeah, Medic helped. He uh, he had the map, I just had to follow the instructions." 

Spy smiled at how nervous Sniper seemed even though he couldn't see him clearly in the dimness of the night. 

"Shall we?" Spy offered his arm. 

"Uh…" Sniper's head shook left and right. He wasn't sure if he should take Spy's arm, publicly, like that. It was all a bit too much, or too fast. Spy understood and just extended his hand in the direction of the restaurant's entrance instead. 

"After you, Sniper."

"Right…" Sniper looked but couldn't see Medic and Heavy anymore, thus concluding they were already inside.

As soon as he entered, Sniper gasped silently as his jaw dropped and his lips parted visibly. He hadn't set foot in any similar place in his life so far. The restaurant had a very high ceiling, the floor was tiled and the chandeliers' shy yellow lights reflected on the floor. As Sniper looked down, he realised he could always see himself perfectly, despite the tiles being dark blue. The walls had magnificent paintings that were framed with gold painted wood and the walls themselves were Burgundy red with golden motifs. 

"Gosh…" 

Spy said something to a waiter and next thing he knew, Sniper was sitting in front of him, on a table lit by a single candle, sitting at the center of the small round table. Before he did sit down, Sniper removed his coat and hat and it was Spy's turn to drop his jaw. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

[My God…]

Hearing Spy's voice made Sniper zone back to reality brutally and face his gaze. He saw the very light blue eyes open wide and the pupils retracted to a dot. But it only flashed for a fleeting moment because Spy didn't let the surprise invade him. 

They sat down and were handed the menu. The light in the room was quite low, which was quite pleasant for the eyes. It helped them focus on what was important. Sniper hid behind the leather-bound menu and sometimes took a peek above it. Spy looked absolutely magnificent. His dark red jacket had a slight sheen to it which recalled the sparks that Sniper saw in his eyes, each time their gazes would cross. 

"So, have you made your choice?" 

"Uh, yeah, I think I did." Sniper answered, still shielding himself behind the menu. 

"You can put the menu down then."

"I-I could, yeah…" 

But somehow, Sniper didn't want to and he clung to the thing like a young boy would to his mum's skirt.

"Sniper?"

"Yeah?" 

"You may put the menu down." Spy repeated and this time, Sniper yielded. 

"Oh, Gosh…" Sniper's eyes opened as wide as planets and his pupils shrank. Between his last glance at Spy and now, the Frenchman had freed his face and hair from the last layer of cloth that covered them, taking Sniper utterly by surprise. 

"We are now even." Spy said. 

"Y-I-uh… I-I guess… Now I can see you and uh, you can see me." 

They took a moment to observe each other. One was confident in his looks and knew he could make any heart fall with just a flash of his pearly white teeth, while the other was red beyond his ears, awkward and uncomfortable as if he was naked. 

"That was not what I meant." Spy said while Sniper was still devouring him with his eyes. The Frenchman's eyes were bewitching, that, Sniper knew, but his hair was absolute poetry! It was elegantly combed back with a cinder lock at the front and grey temples. He also had a rebel front tuft that refused to follow the rest of his hair to fall between his eyes. Spy took great care of his hair, it shone beautifully under the chandeliers and candle light. 

"W-what?" Sniper snapped back to reality. "Sorry, what d'you mean?"

"I did not mean that we're even because I removed my balaclava."

"Why then?"

"Look at you." Spy started. "You made the effort to wear a suit, although you clearly aren't used to it. It's a shame you don't wear one to work, they make you more handsome." 

Sniper felt the wave of heat change into sweat on his entire body, but Spy continued.

"You also combed your hair back, added a bit of product to make it stay in place, you shaved and I can smell your perfume from here, a bit too strong for my liking, but that's only because you are nervous. Non Sniper, I meant that we are even because you made all these efforts for me while I made some for you too, although they do not appear as blatantly."

Their meals appeared on the table and they started digging in. Sniper didn't know what to answer so he just fell silent. That's when he realised that there was some music in the background. He raised his head and saw far from them, at the side of the dining area, a group of musicians. Hell that place was fancy… 

"You are remarkably handsome tonight is what I meant and I thank you for your efforts. They mean the world to me." 

Sniper tried to at least smile and nod but his shyness paralysed him and he just managed to pull his lips and lower his head. He was extremely tense and of course Spy noticed it. 

"Is it too much?" He asked. 

"What?" 

"What I said, did I go too far? Was it things that you don't want to hear?"

"N-no." 

Spy lowered his head with a sigh. He hadn't touched his meal and Sniper was pushing the food left and right, but couldn't eat either. 

"I had doubts this would be a bad idea. Now, I am sure." He concluded and simply left the table, leaving Sniper alone. 

The poor Aussie was not only confused but ashamed. It was because of him, again, that he lost a date. He lowered his head to the food in his plate. It didn't make sense, it was grey and bland. Sniper left the table too. He went to pay what he owed but was told Spy had already done so, and so he left the restaurant. 

He dragged his feet to his van, in the silence of the night, before unlocking it and climbing on the driver's seat. Sniper sighed. He was used to screwing up dates, forgetting them, being stood up, or making them go awfully bad. But this particular instance was hurting in a bitter way. He put his hands on the steering wheel and started the van. 

"You are leaving?" 

A voice said from next to him that made him jump on his seat and put a hand on his chest. In the darkness of the night, he didn't see that Spy was sitting where Medic had been half an hour before.

"I… I thought you left." Sniper answered. 

"Non." Spy said as he retrieved a cigarette and lit it. 

[No.]

"So uh… What do we do?"

"Go ahead and continue what you were doing. Pretend I am not here." Spy said and turned to look through the window. 

Sniper felt the pain inside. He had screwed it up so much. There wasn't much left but to drive back to the base and sleep through the next day. So he exited the parking lot in front of the restaurant and drove away. 

The ride was dead silent and only the gentle rumble of the van's engine was audible, although it had melted in the background.

"Stop the van." Spy said. 

"What?" Sniper's head turned to him in a flash. 

"Stop the van." He repeated. 

"Here? In the middle of the desert?" Sniper asked but Spy's eyes riveted on his were more than clear and Sniper obeyed, parking the car on the dusty ground of the desert, a few meters away from the asphalt.

As the van's noise stopped, the tension grew louder. Spy opened the door and slipped out. Sniper thought that he had needed a quick "pit stop" as they called them for formula 1 cars, but soon, he heard some noise coming from above his head. 

Utter confusion. What the hell was Spy doing on his van's rooftop? Why would he go there? Nah, it surely was nothing. Sniper shook his head and waited for Spy to come back. But after ten minutes, he still hadn't. Sniper sighed and decided to investigate. He got out of the van and looked around. Spy was nowhere to be found. 

"Up here, if you are looking for me." 

Sniper looked up and indeed Spy was sitting cross-legged on the van's rooftop. Sniper went to the ladder at the back and climbed up. 

"What are you doing here? I thought you asked me to stop to take a p-"

"To fill one of your filthy jars?" Spy cut him. "Non. I needed guidance." 

[No.]

Sniper sat down next to him. 

"You prayin'?" He asked, seeing how Spy's eyes were riveted on the sky. 

"Almost." He answered. "I am asking for help, but not from God. If he did exist, why did I live such a miserable life? How was that part of the plan? To give me a lady that would be my wife and a son, only to take them away from me. But still, to keep him so close to me that it hurts every day of this life, having to see him and remember better, sweeter times. Having to see him and knowing that things could have been much different, things could have gone splendidly better. But non, apparently the plan wasn't that, non, the plan was to make me suffer every day I cross his gaze because I see her and I see the life I could have led." 

Sniper's jaw dropped.

"And then they did something." 

"Who?" Sniper asked.

"Them." Spy pointed up. "They broke the curse, they took me out of that infernal spiral and saved me. But they didn't do that in a snap of their fingers. Non. They sent someone. A wingless angel. Someone whose sight takes off all the burdens I've ever carried on my shoulders. His mere presence brings peace to my tormented soul. He graces me with the gift of joy, and brings back feelings that had died in me. The flutters of the heart, the blush on my cheeks, even though hidden behind my mask. He is a godsent to me, only I know it wasn't God who sent it to me, it can't be. Why would he make me suffer so hard to then just simply flip it all over with the presence of that man, hm?"

"Maybe God just wants you to think less harshly about yourself." 

Spy turned his eyes to Sniper. 

"I mean, it's like you had a curse or something, but you seem to say that it's going better, right?" 

"Oui. That tall, handsome man has lifted the curse. Each time he gathers the courage to look into my eyes, I can feel all sorts of things in my chest that no other feeling but love can produce. I breathe more heavily, my heart beats faster but my eyes blink slower, because I want time to stretch, I want this to last. It is selfish, but I want his attention on me for as long as possible. Not only do I like the way he looks at me, as if I could bring him any fragment of happiness, but he blesses me with the peace I have yearned for without even knowing it. And he's the only one able to calm the waves of my torment here, inside." Spy tapped his chest. "Thank you, Sniper." 

Sniper choked on his own saliva and cleared his throat. He froze when Spy took his arm between his and leaned on his shoulder. 

"Y-you think all that… about me?" He asked. 

"Oui." Spy closed his eyes as the proximity with the body he had dreamt of was overwhelming. "But please." He parted from Sniper and looked up at him. "Please tell me that you feel the same. Please tell me that your shyness only tries to hide how you too feel this way for me, and not how repulsive you find me. Please tell me that… That I am not putting all my hopes for peace somewhere where they would be wasted and thrown away. At my age, I don't think I will ever find someone with whom I could share my days and my worries." 

Spy pleaded with his eyes, implored with his voice but nothing came out of Sniper's lips. And the silence spoke louder than anything else around them in the darkness of the night. 

"I… I realise how pathetic I sound, how both desperate and done I am with life. I do apologise if I wasted your time, if I forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Forgive me. It was only an old, tired man thinking he had found a bit of solace. I shall not bother you more." 

Spy looked up at the stars and addressed them. 

"Thank you and damn you. Thank you for making me feel those tremors everywhere, that magic spell inside that makes one forget his worries ever existed. And damn you. To hell with you and the false hopes you gave me. I hope you are laughing at the miseries you put me through and how badly they break me. You would be the only ones laughing, I don't have the strength for self pity or laughing at myself anymore."

Spy stood up and turned to get down off the van's rooftop. Sniper stood up in a flash and held him back from his sleeve, awkwardly. 

"W-wait." 

"What? You too want to laugh? Be quick about it. I would like to get back home with a bit of dignity left in me." 

"Shut up." Sniper pulled him more strongly than Spy had anticipated he could and the Frenchman crashed against Sniper's chest, his arms wrapping him tight and close. "You talk too much." 

Tears went to Spy's eyes as his body was against the one man he had wanted for weeks now. His solace, his ray of light through his dark life. Sniper's hand went behind Spy's head, through the silk of his hair and his other one on his lower back, clinging to him, almost clawing. 

Spy buried his head on Sniper's chest and let the tears do what they wanted. If they wanted to roll down and cover him in disgrace, so be it. He closed his eyes.

"You talk too much and I can't talk as much. It's… I'm… I'm sorry I can't. I'm sorry I'm bad with words. But no, of course I won't laugh at you, you idiot." Sniper's hand clenched harder on Spy's hair. "I won't laugh at you. I… Bugger! I can't speak."

Spy's hands laced around Sniper's sides and clawed on his back. 

"I love you, Sniper." 

Sniper looked down between his arms and Spy was looking up at him, his eyes more than glistening. 

"I love you like the desperate man I am." 

"Don't say that. You're not desperate okay? Oh, Gosh…" And Sniper tightened the hug again because it was what both of them needed. Spy's tears finally won over as Sniper rested his cheek on top of Spy's head. "You're not desperate. I'm… I'm here, ok? I'm here now. I'm… I love you too, bloody hell." 

Spy's breath broke out of sync as he started sobbing against Sniper's shirt. Sniper stayed there, immobile, for long minutes, absorbing all the waters of his lover's liberation. Spy needed to cry. He needed to mark the end of the curse, he needed to celebrate it and rather than jumping out of joy, his body had chosen to wash the bitterness away in tears. So be it. Sniper massaged Spy's scalp. The Frenchman was mumbling through his sobs and the Aussie didn't know if it was French, English or complete gibberish. He just took it all away from Spy. And when the Frenchman had drenched Sniper's shirt to the point where he could feel the cold wetness on his very skin, Spy raised his head. 

"Je t'aime, I love you. I love you so much, I am so sorry."

[I love you.]

And Sniper understood that for the past minutes, Spy had been just repeating those words on loop, like a broken disc. He looked down straight in his eyes and gathered enough courage to face the man who was literally breaking down because he loved him that much. Sniper answered. 

"I love you too, I love you too, don't be sorry, I love you." 

Spy's lips pursed in a smile. He was crying what were maybe the happiest tears of his life.

[sunshine-shitposts]

(Takes place a few months into Sunnie's employment at the Foundation. The whole 'roommates with Dio' thing is still relatively new. 😌)

Experiment

～

He was in his shower when he heard her muffled shout from her room.

"HOLY SHIT!!!!"

"Well that's odd," he mused, running his fingers through his wet hair, "She's usually asleep at this time."

He easily caught the sound of her wooden door slamming open with a resounding thud.

"HOLY SHIT DUDE!!!!!"

Dio smiled to himself and turned the water off, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. "It's not quite 'eureka', but it seems she has had an idea."

When he left his room, he heard furious grumbling and shuffling from the kitchen, so he followed the noises to see Sunnie, in her usual giant NASA shirt and cotton shorts sleep ensemble, rushing around the tiled floor and quickly looking into the recycling, pulling out a couple of empty Izze cans.

"Oho? What has you up so late at night?" Dio asked.

"Okay, so I had an idea? I guess? In my dream?? Well whatever it was, I woke up with an idea!" She was speaking quickly, not even really paying attention to Dio. "You know what wind is, right??"

He leaned against the doorway, smirking. "I'm familiar with the concept," he said, "but the specifics are something I've never looked into."

She continued to move around the kitchen, not sparing a glance at her roommate. "Okay. So, air is the word we use to refer to atmospheric gases surrounding our pale blue dot, kept in place by gravity, right?" She hopped up on the counter, opening various cupboards frantically, "Naturally, wind occurs because of—where the fuck is the flour—because of horizontal and vertical differences in atmospheric pressure, and I have a leetle theory that that might be what I can manipulate, through Windy." Sunnie looked behind some pots before closing that cabinet door with a thud as well. "Of course, that's just naturally. There's also mechanical reasons for wind moving; fans, turbines, even walking through a room, yadda yadda right? But I'm focused on the regular way, yeah? High pressure to low pressure and all."

"I understand," he hummed. Watching her tiredly yet animatedly rifle through their things was amusing, but he took pity on her and walked over to the pantry, pulling the flour off of the shelf as she hopped back off the counter with single-minded focus. "You were looking for this, dear?"

"Oh, you got the flou–" she turned around and nearly fell to the floor, finally noticing his glistening wet skin and the towel wrapped low around his waist. "FUCK. JESUS CHRIST DUDE, PUT ON SOME CLOTHES!!"

His smirk grew into a full-on grin, "I thought you wanted the flour?" he asked, leaning over her and jiggling the bag in front of her face. She stepped back, cheeks flushing.

"It's–I do, but you're…" Her eyes strayed from his face, tracing down the lines of his body, his abs, to the top of the towel, and immediately looked back up into his eyes, willing herself to not get distracted. "You're one mishap away from straight up nudity, man. Just… uh—"

Reveling in flustering her, he took a step forward, and she stepped back again. "Darling," he purred, backing her against the wall, "your eyes are wandering. I wonder, do you see something you like?"

The air between them was thick for a moment, her eyes darting to his arms, to his chest, to the scar around his neck, before she huffed and shook her head indignantly, laughing to herself. "Oh, no. No no no, I'm not letting this happen!" Sunnie grabbed the bag of flour from his hand and ducked past him. "I refuse to let you kabedon me when you're in nothing but a towel!!"

Dio turned and looked at her as she started to leave the kitchen, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Kabedon?"

"Look it up, asshole!!" She snapped, looking at him from the doorway, cheeks dusted with pink, "And if you're curious, I'll be in the living room. Put on some damn clothes."

Upon arriving in their living room, he was surprised to see that Sunnie had expeditiously spread the flour in a light layer across the coffee table, and was delicately placing an empty green Izze can in the center. Her hair, up in a bun, was a mess, and her eyes were wide, focused, and slightly manic.

"This is not quite what I was expecting," Dio hummed, an eyebrow quirked.

"Well what were you expecting?" She grunted, lining the other three empty cans up neatly along on the edge of the table.

He shrugged. "I suppose I don't have an answer to that."

"Well there you go," she replied, finally happy with her setup, looking up at Dio as he walked over to sit in one of the wing chairs and her expression dropped into an unamused leer. "Really dude? Just sweatpants? Not even a shirt?"

He gave her a dazzling, shit-eating grin. "What? It's comfortable." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. "So, my dear, what's…" He whirled his hand in the coffee table's direction, "…all of this?"

"An experiment!!!" She shouted happily, demeanor immediately changing. "I thought up an experiment for me to do!! A test of sorts!! Something to try out!"

Dio raised his eyebrows, regarding her curiously. "Care to elaborate?"

"So how I usually use Windy is, either she or I physically manipulate the air to get it to do what we want. Like…" she thought for a moment, "...Think of it like pulling your finger through water. It leaves a path, you know? And then there's the direction, it feels like a push, or a pull. And that's how I," Windy's wing shimmered on her left wrist and she flicked her hand almost dismissively, knocking her scarf off the console table on the other side of the room, "do that. I feel like the physical aspect of it helps me… connect with the air molecules, make them flow. You following?"

"It sounds very intuitive for you, little bird," he said, "What does this have to do with the empty cans?"

"PRESSURE, dude! Atmospheric pressure!!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air, "If that's what I'm able to manipulate, if THAT'S part of my ability, I may be able to remotely crush an empty Izze can!! By exciting or dampening the activity of air molecules, I might be able to do it. And I want to try!!"

Dio grinned widely, thoroughly amused and highly intrigued. "And the flour you've spread on our coffee table?"

"The flour's so I can see the movement of air. It helps me visualize it!!" She said, clenching her fists excitedly, "I used to do this with my best friend after I told her about Windy. Given, that was with dirt or sand or whatever was available at the time, but it's the same concept! She'd set up courses that I'd have to move a line of air through, and I steadily got better at controlling wind that way!!"

Hearing that there was someone besides her immediate family and her husband that knew about her Stand was news to him, but he took it in stride for the moment.

"See? Like this," Sunnie continued, the wings appearing on her wrists again and she swept her hands up and out, and two curling paths began to snake through the flour like filigree. "I've gotten really good at it, to be honest."

"Your control over your Stand is impressive indeed, Sunshine," he agreed, and she smiled wide, a satisfied giggle escaping her.

"Hell yeah. So! Let's begin!!" Sunnie plopped on the sofa and Dust in the Wind popped out behind her, grabbing her shoulders and looking at the can as well. "I'm gonna try to do this without, y'know," she gestured wildly with her hands, "any of that. Just… stare at it and go cronch." She paused, then her eyes positively lit up. "Like Mewtwo!!!"

Dio looked at her oddly. "Like what?"

She gave him a dismissive wave of her hand. "That's Pokémon, I'll introduce you later." Sunnie settled into the sofa, wiggling a bit to get comfortable, then gave him a slightly shy little glance. "You, uh, you don't have to stay and watch. This is just a little personal project of mine and all. You can sleep or whatever."

His smile, this time, was sincere rather than smug. "Oh, I know that, but I don't technically need to sleep, and I'm also terribly curious about where this goes." Dio crossed one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair and propping his elbow up on the arm rest, settling his jaw in his palm. "Watching you approach your Stand's ability with science in mind is utterly fascinating, you know."

He caught a faint pinkish blush on her cheeks, which dissipated as quickly as it rose and she looked back at the can, her Stand tapping her fingers on Sunnie's shoulders excitedly. "Whatever. Now, it's time to get funky."

Thirty eight minutes later, the Izze can was still intact and all Sunnie had to show for it was some eye strain and a very light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Dio, who had been watching her the entire time, had seen her eyebrows begin to twitch in frustration. He had a feeling she was seconds away from snapping when she suddenly careened herself into the corner of the sectional head-first, whining loudly.

"Bullshit, this is bullshit!!! I can't—I can't feel anything, I can't feel the air, it's… fuck this, dude. Fuck this!!!" Dust in the Wind floated over her user, massaging her fingers on Sunnie's scalp reassuringly.

"You do seem tired, dear, would you like to—"

"BUT THERE HAS TO BE A WAY!!!" she insisted, shooting herself upright once again. "There has to be. I just have to figure it out. Maybe if I…" She looked down at her hands, perplexed, and flexed her fingers. "Yeah, I mean, I can feel the air now, but I wanna try without moving my hands."

Dio grinned as she continued mumbling to herself. His little human certainly was stubborn. "So, how exactly are you envisioning doing this?"

"Well, I supposedly should be able to do it two ways off the top of my head," she replied, pulling her legs up onto the sofa, resting her elbows next to her feet and subsequently almost folding herself in half. "The first is simple brute force. That's the easy one. Pushing the can in on itself from the outside. The second one is more fine-tuned and still a theory. That's the air pressure one." She sat back up, the soles of her feet pressed against each other and tapping impatiently. "So… air molecules, right? They're everywhere, air is basically everywhere. You know the 'glass half full or half empty' thing? It's bullshit because the glass is always full. It might not be full of water, but it is full. Air takes up space. That's why we can blow up balloons, or make bubbles underwater. That balloon is inflated because we put that air in there. We see the bubble in the water because water has to move out of the way because air displaces it. Make sense?"

"It does. I can see why you used to be a STEM teacher," he said, bouncing his foot slightly.

"Alright. So the reason that can," she pointed at the can in the center of the table, still undisturbed by her efforts, "is still the way it is is because the pressure outside the can is the same as the pressure on the inside of the can. If there's an imbalance, it rushes to maintain equilibrium. That's why weather happens. Hot air rises, and the denser cold air swoops in to take its place. Hypothetically, if I can manipulate air molecules, I should be able to cause a pressure imbalance great enough to trigger an implosion." Windy swooped over to the can, hovering above it and inspecting it curiously, and Sunnie heaved a large sigh. "There's some temperature stuff involved, water molecules and all, but again, this is a theory."

"Interesting," Dio hummed, uncrossing his legs slowly and leaning forward, "Well, if using your hands helps you feel the air, why not hold them out in front of you?"

Her shoulders slumped and she pouted. "I said I don't want to use my hands though." Windy, however, floated over to Dio and cocked her head to the side inquisitively.

"I didn't say you needed to move your hands, dear," he said, reaching a hand up to pet Windy on her head, earning him a swift blush from his roommate while the Stand just made a soft yet happy trilling noise, "Just hold them out. Not unlike warming your hands in front of a fire."

Sunnie considered Dio's suggestion for a moment and Windy returned to her, circling her a few times before holding her hands out. Sunnie then grinned and gave her Stand a double high-five before facing the can again, determined. "Alright." Both user and Stand readied their hands. "Second try. Let's crush this bitch."

Seventy two minutes after that, there was a small, barely-there flicker of flour kicking up about an inch away from the can. Sunnie's eyes sharpened and she leaned forward a bit, focusing on it like a hawk.

"Shit. There–I just—"

Dio raised an eyebrow and watched as more flour began flying in the air bit by bit, like a butterfly unsure of how to get off the ground.

"Come on," she grunted, "A dome…"

The geometric wing shapes on Windy's outer wrists flared up, spreading open slowly into ferocious points as the flour began to swirl around the can in a circle. Sunnie's skin glistened with sweat, her teeth gritted and her jaw tight. Her fingers twitched, tensing up, and her hands shook from being held up for so long, for trying as long as she had been. Puffs of flour shot off in a few directions, and the white particles churned up and around, the rough shape of a dome slowly becoming more and more refined, twisting faster and faster.

Dio sat forward in the chair slightly, watching the scene before him with interest. He knew she'd already been working hard earlier that day, doing tests with Catherine and Ellison, and humans typically felt fatigue when using their Stands for extended periods of time. She was already tired when she came back down to their suite, and she was pushing herself even further simply because of an idea she had.

She truly was a fascinatingly stubborn woman.

The dome around the can smoothed out, and both Sunnie and her Stand's fingers were trembling with effort and single-minded focus. The geometric wings on Windy's head had also begun to grow in length, the Stand's narrowed yellow eyes nearly glowing.

Then in a flash of a second, Sunnie turned her hands upwards and clenched her fist, and the aluminum buckled inward with a metallic crunch.

It took a second for her to process what had just happened. Her eyes were wide, her mouth dropped open slightly, and her breath stuttered. The room was silent for a moment, and she shot up off of the sofa, threw her fists up in the air, and crowed with triumphant laughter.

"HAH!! I GOT YOU, YOU METAL MOTHERFUCKER!!! I CONQUERED YOUR ASS!!! I FUCKING DID IT!!!!! YEAAAAAAH!!!!"

But almost the second she was up, she was falling. Dust in the Wind vanished and she toppled to the side, and Dio was there to catch her.

"If you make any sort of 'falling for me' joke," Sunnie grunted, "I am going to kick your ass."

"You're far too tired for that, darling," he chuckled, "And I highly doubt that you could."

"I would fucking try," she insisted, trying to move. "…My bones are jelly. Help."

"You worked hard today, Sunshine," he said, standing up with her in his arms, "And you accomplished something fantastic. I'm quite impressed, you know."

She buried her face in his chest to avoid him seeing the blush on her face. "Shut up. I wanna hibernate now."

"Understood," he said, turning to the hall and starting to walk as a grin curled his lips.

"Maybe…" she mumbled softly, "maybe I'll try the second method later."

"There's an idea," Dio replied, The World materializing in front of him and opening the door to Sunnie's room, following its user in as Dio walked over to her messy bed.

"Ellison can probably get his hands on some instruments that can help," she continued as Dio bent over, laying her down on the nest of fluffy blankets and pillows on her mattress, "It's not like I can, like… see air pressure. I need to monitor that shit."

"That would certainly make it easier for you," he murmured, pulling her favorite comforter over her as she snuggled her face into her pillow.

"Dioooo," she whined after a second, "I'm gross."

"You're not gross," he laughed softly, moving a bit of her wet hair out of her face.

"I'm sweaty."

"That isn't gross," he continued, "That's just proof of your incredible efforts tonight. You can bathe when you wake."

"Fine," she huffed, her eyes losing the fight to stay open. "Night, Dio."

Dio stood and turned to leave her room, eyes twinkling. "Goodnight, Sunshine."