#oh mother of mine // ambrosia

[aemvnd]

intimacy. ⑊ 8:16𝐩.𝐦.

content warnings. -> mdni. smut. afab. fem!reader. cunnilingus. slight breeding kink. praise kink. aemond is in love.

+. hii, my loves! i’m officially back & posting new writing content after a few months of my hiatus. this is just something short i wrote to get back into writing smut/fluff again. will prob delete later…idk. love u. ♥︎

the night is still young, full of soft caresses and tangled limbs. deep, eager thrusts and sensual kisses. sweet, feminine moans and deep groans of endless pleasure. you’re embraced by your lover, his arms long and lean and possessive, wrapped snuggly around you, never wanting to let you go.

this is how you spend your most recent nights, being fucked roughly, lovingly, with large, calloused hands and sweet nothings whispered into your ear, possessive words spilled by your lover’s kiss-swollen lips— you’re his perfect girl.

his sweet, most beloved girl.

his, his, his.

“mmh, you taste so fucking sweet,” aemond purrs against you, his lips pursing as he suckles your overstimulated clit into his mouth, flicking his skilled, silver tongue over the fleshy nub, his eye flashing darkly as he watches you, silently observing you, watching the way you cry out for him, your mind falling into oblivion.

pure, blissful pleasure beyond comprehension, that is all you feel, all you can taste, all you can touch, needy and wanting more, more, more.

it is almost exhausting, coming so many times on your lover’s wicked tongue, feeling the rough pads of his fingertips dig into the curve of your plush, womanly hips, humming against your sweet cunt as you mewl like the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.

“perfect…so, so perfect, my love.”

shyly, you lock eyes with him— your beloved aemond, the other half of your soul. “ahh, aemond— please, i- i need….” you trail off breathily, so beautiful and innocent, your sweet voice stammering slightly from how needy you were, desperate for aemond and his devoted touch.

and then, you gasp weakly, your heavy-lidded doe eyes widening, seeing the yearning and dark obsessive sparkle that made your husband’s eye glow, his prominent adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he continues slurping at your tiny, drooling cunt, eagerly drinking down the sweetness of your liquid pleasure, making wet, obscene noises with his mouth as he feasted on your exquisite ambrosia.

“my precious girl, my heart— mine,” aemond rasps, his voice deep and hoarse, his jaw throbbing with the way he continued feasting on your dripping cunny, devoted to making you come over and over again on his tongue until he can’t stand it anymore.

aemond needs you, beyond desperate as he slips his leaking cock inside of your tight, gummy walls, his lips now claiming yours, kissing you messily— he is full of his own endless passion and desires, his tongue curling around yours so perfectly, a most perfect match, making the young prince purr deeply as he tastes your innocence on his own tongue.

oh, he wants, he wants you, more than anything.

you were always so alluring, so lovely— you’re like an endless dream that aemond never wished to wake up from, wanting to be lost inside of you forever, never to be parted, two bodies, two halves of one shared soul, intertwined for eternity.

aemond sighs, breathless, overwhelmed by your ethereal beauty, obsessed with the way your weeping cunt squeezes his cock, making him ache and long to fill your womb with his hot, scorching seed— and oh, you would make the most beautiful mother, aemond thinks, yearning to make you the mother of his children, his heirs.

the night is still young, and so, it continues, with sweet promises and declarations of endless love whispered from aemond’s lips, lost in the warmth and love that is simply you, and you’re his, only his— completely and eternally.

and tonight, like every night previous in your shared martial chambers, you’re all that matters to the one-eyed prince.

[rhysie]

even with the mask, rhysand notices the hesitance, the awe, that flashes across her features — & it's not like he can blame her. he has become a walking caution tale, roaming around in the shadows as her weapon. the things he's done, just as a means to survive & protect everyone he cares about ... every fae wears that exact expression in his presence, absolutely petrified. it's a notion he's had time to come to terms with, after all of these years: if he must become a monster, he will.

" oh, please. the honor is all mine. " he purrs, though there is something in his tone that shows he means it. there's only a glance spared in amarantha's direction as rhysand leads ambrosia to the dance floor, playing off the growing concern that twisted onto her face — as if he didn't savor every second of it. he ignores the guilt that comes with using her as a pawn in all of this. the repercussions that'll ensue if his cards aren't played right are sure to be deadly, if they're lucky.

his focus returns to the steps, keeping the dance simple enough, a smile as he takes in the other. she has more life in her, than her mother ... a sparkle in her eyes that she lacks, though the red locks blooming from her crown are a sure giveaway. " is that so? i would assume you'd have crowds at your feet, begging for a dance. " a hum, " admittedly, i'm a bit out of practice myself. hopefully i prove myself better than a broom, however. "

all her life, ambrosia has been a consequence, never a person. in the private hours where amarantha might deign to be a mother, she had always reminded her daughter that before ambrosia had even taken a breath in the world, she had been a concept: an idea concocted in amarantha's mind; the perfect heir. the reality was far more disappointing –– ambrosia hemorrhaged weakness from that very first breath. in her mother's own words: ambrosia was too meek, too mild to be anything more than a resounding and utter failure of breeding. ambrosia has been a consequence, a thought amarantha was too eager to brush away when it pleases her.

but tonight as she stands by the far wall, the upper half of her face hidden behind a simple gold and ivory mask forming the features of a nondescript bird, she is... more than consequence. she is consequential. she stares at the lord of night with an expression of mingled wariness and awe. it is true what they say: there are stars in his eyes. she thinks there might be some in hers too, and remembers to pick her jaw up off of the floor. despite his fearsome beauty, ambrosia attempts to school her features into distanced reverence. she can feel the lash of amarantha's gaze on them and forces herself not to shudder. ❝ I... ❞ it's not a good idea. but to refuse him would be worse –– an insult to the high lord and his court. so ambrosia nods and takes his hand, slim knuckles curling over his fingers. ❝ I am honored, my lord. ❞

as they stroll onto the dance floor, she takes a bracing breath and sets a hand on his shoulder as he begins to lead. ❝ I apologize if I struggle to keep up –– I'm afraid I don't have much experience dancing. ❞ a small, self-deprecating smile tilts the corners of her mouth upwards. ❝ unless you count the kind done with a broom. ❞

[ourloveisforthelovely]

On the Mend. Part 4

Harry Potter AU 

Link to Part 3

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: T

_________

“Mum, I’m sure that you remember Y/n Potter. She is the woman that I am in love with and this is our daughter, Renee.”

Both Walburga and Ambrosia’s mouth fell open. Ambrosia looked at her ex-husband’s face before falling down to the baby in his arms. This was most definitely his child. Whatever hope she had of salvaging their marriage just burned into a million little pieces as Regulus pulled you closer to him. The expression on Regulus’ face when he looked at you clearly said true love. He never looked at Ambrosia like this and it infuriated her even more. She had to press her lips together and look down before she burst into tears.

Later Ambrosia knew that she would be angry. She would be livid. In her mind, she was already preparing for the jokes that she would make about Regulus and yourself.

“Oh look, it's just another teenage couple with a baby. How typical.”

Ambrosia didn’t want to think about how her life was going to be “affected” by Regulus’ decisions. She didn’t want to think about how other members of the “sacred 28” would whisper about her.

“That girl, that one right there...Ambrosia...that’s the girl that was abandoned by Regulus Black for Y/n Potter. Did you hear what a catastrophe that was? Apparently, Black had an affair with the Potter girl that resulted in a baby. Regulus left Ambrosia for Y/n and the child. It must be dreadful for Ambrosia”

Ambrosia had to shut those thoughts from her head. She had always been bitter toward Regulus’ attachment toward you now it was becoming a rage. Rage over the fact that the man she married had no feelings toward her. Ambrosia couldn’t help feeling stupid. She had gone into the marriage with an open mind and heart. She had given Regulus everything. Now her repayment for her good deeds was less than to be desired. Instead of getting a husband that would love and pamper her, she now had an ex-husband who knocked up his teenage girlfriend.

I should have seen this coming.

Ambrosia thought bitterly. Regulus never wanted her (and she knew it). At the wedding, he would barely look at her. Regulus looked anywhere but at her. Sex that night wasn’t even anything special. Regulus got what he wanted then left Ambrosia alone in the bedroom to drink himself to sleep. Anytime that Regulus would touch her, he either had to be drunk or would get drunk immediately after. He would then spend the rest of the night muttering your name in his sleep.

“What have you done, Regulus?”

Walburga asked, interrupting Ambrosia’s own brooding. Regulus didn’t deviate his attention from his mother. The last thing that he wanted to look at was Ambrosia and her tear-filled eyes. He didn’t feel sorry for her and nothing that she said would change it. So what if Ambrosia didn’t ask for what was happening to her now? That wasn’t Regulus’ problem. Ambrosia knew what she was getting into when she said “I do.” Regulus’ rage toward Ambrosia stimulated by the woman saying that you were plain that not worthy of Regulus’ affection. “Why do you love her so much? Y/n Potter is a plain girl. Why am I not good enough for you? I am twice as pretty as she is. She doesn’t deserve a moment of your time. You should love me, your wife. Not some girl that you had a hormonal teenage affair with.” After those words left her mouth, Regulus had no use for her. She was just some girl that he was forced to take care of.

Walburga hadn’t been able to move from her chair as she kept her cold gaze locked on her “favorite” son and the baby that was clearly his. Typically meeting one's grandchild should be a joyous moment. Walburga should be thrilled that her son produced an heir. She should be elated and excited but she wasn’t.

“You had a baby with Y/n Potter…”

Regulus nodded.

“Yes, mother….for the third time. If you would open your eyes and look at the child in my arms you would see that. This is my daughter and the woman that I am in love with...get the picture? I’m standing up to you like I should have done a long time ago. I was in a relationship with Y/n, to begin with. I didn’t want to marry Ambrosia and you forced me into it. I figured my being drunk the whole time would have clued you in on that but it appears obviousness is lost upon you. Y/n was pregnant and I didn’t know about it. My head is in the ballgame and I won’t give her up.”

Walburga was seething. Regulus never talked to her like this. Where his sudden surge of “big dick” energy was coming from was baffling. Regulus was the one that would stand beside her and agree to whatever his mother wanted.

Today, she didn’t know the young man in front of her. Judging by the surprised expression on your face, you too weren't expecting this kind of language to come out of Regulus. For some reason, Walburga felt comforted by that. Why? She didn’t know.

The part of her brain (or heart), that she didn’t let out much, was beginning Walburga to calm down and listen.

"Just give him a moment...a chance...this is our grandchild. Look at her precious little face. She’s a beauty. If you don’t calm yourself, you will never know her.”

The stubborn side of Walburga, that always won, however, had other things to say…

“What has this bitch done to my darling son? She has to have him under a love spell. That is the only thing that would explain this behavior. This is not my Regulus.”

“You are throwing away a wonderful marriage to a pureblood darling for Potter trash!”

Walburga finally said with a cold distant glare. Regulus, meanwhile, gently nudged you behind him and placed Renee in your arms. The little girl started whimpering and reached for her father again. Regulus turned and nuzzled his face against hers.

You, meanwhile, watched Walburga’s furious expression with a look of pride on your face. Regulus was, for once, standing up for you and your child. Walburga should be thrilled that her son would want to support his own child. Maybe there was some kind of gas leak in Grimmauld Place that was ruining her common sense? That was the best that you could come up with at the moment.

Regulus stood up straight again before giving you a small smile before turning back to his mother. The pleased smile had evaporated from his face.

“I suggest you watch how you speak to her. Y/n in a pureblood whether you want to admit it or not.”

Walburga jumped up from her seat.

“I want you to remarry the woman that we set you up with.”

Regulus laughed, making Walburga step back. She had forgotten that her youngest son could smile. She hadn’t seen him smile or heard his laugh in years. Had the situation been different, Walburga may have welcomed it. Now, however, she wanted nothing more than to slap Regulus as hard as possible.

“I am not marrying or being with Ambrosia.”

Walburga stomped her foot. She would sit and throw a tantrum until Regulus saw her way. Walburga knew that her son was scared enough of her that if she yelled loud enough she would get what she wanted.

“You are not marrying that girl! I forbid it!”

Regulus’ cold smile deepened. He would have not been surprised if Walburga laid down in the middle of the sidewalk and threw a fit like a spoiled child.

“Forbid all you want. I will marry Y/n. You can banish me from the family. Burn my name off of the tapestry if you have to...I am not changing my mind. I love Y/n and our daughter. You don’t have to be part of Renee’s life. We could really care less. I know that it doesn’t matter to you but how do you think that Y/n felt being pregnant and watching me marry that disaster? Like it or not, she isn’t going without or doing anything alone. If you cared about your granddaughter at all then you wouldn’t want her mother suffering as a single mother. It isn’t Sirius or Remus’ job to care for her. It's mine. You’re showing me exactly what kind of person you are and I don’t like what I see.”

“I will burn you off of the tapestry.”

Walburga almost yelled. Regulus shrugged before turning to you.

“Time to go, love.”

Regulus moved to apparate the three of you from the street. You put a hand on his chest before giving him a small nod. He took Renee from you as you turned to Walburga.

“You would really throw your son away like rubbish because he is no longer feeding into your insane ideology. It's your loss. You’ve already lost one son, go ahead and throw away the other. When you die alone and bitter, it will be your own fault.”

Regulus gave you all of two seconds before he pulled you in his arms and rushed back home.

You still felt a little dizzy when the concrete beneath your feet turned into the hardwood. Ever since you had become pregnant with Renee, apparating made you ill. As you tried to get your grasp back on the stagnant world, Sirius came in with a smile.

His smile fell when he sat the expressions on your faces.

“Guess the meeting with mummy didn’t go so well?”

Regulus didn’t say anything as he put Renee down on a soft blanket. He stepped toward the window and looked out at the street below. Sirius met your gaze. You gave him a curt nod.

Sirius turned his attention back to his younger brother. Regulus didn’t have to say anything for Sirius to know that the younger brother was upset. He could deny it all that he wanted but Sirius knew that Regulus loved their mother...even with all of the hell that she had put him through. Washing his hands of the whole family and walking away had to be more traumatic than Regulus seemed to be letting on.

“Are you out of the family too?”

Regulus turned.

“Yeah, look at that. We are more alike than we thought.”

Sirius normally would have made a witty joke but he could tell by the expression on your faces that jokes wouldn’t be appropriately timed. Instead, he turned his attention to Renee who was happily untying Regulus’ dress shoes.

“I’m going to take the baby upstairs and get her down for a nap.”

Sirius picked up Renee and disappeared from the room leaving Regulus and yourself alone.

Once Sirius was out of the room, Regulus knelt down to tie his shoes again before meeting your gaze. You were looking at him with big doe eyes that was making the man in him go crazy.

“I told you that I would do it.”

Regulus commented before joining you at the window. He placed his hand over yours hoping the physical contact would lure you to him. Sure enough, it did. You stepped closer to him.

“I was surprised.”

You commented, turning to face Regulus. His grey eyes were locked on your face. To say that you were surprised was putting things lightly. It was a miracle that you weren’t standing beside Regulus with your mouth open the whole time. Watching Regulus put Walburga and Ambrosia in their places made the attraction that you felt for him soar.

“I meant what I said. I want you. My family doesn’t matter now.”

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments. You had been internally fighting with yourself on whether or not you were ready to move forward with a relationship. After debating a few moments, your heart spoke before your head did. You had your arms around Regulus’ shoulders and was kissing him as if the world was about to end.

Regulus had been caught totally off guard by your out of character action. He had expected that he would still have to find some way to win you over (and he was fine with it). If it took him wooing you nonstop for the rest of however long...Regulus would do it.

Now here he stood, like a stunned idiot, with you kissing him. It reminded Regulus of the first kiss the two of you had shared. Neither of you liked each other very much (or so both of you thought). After being stuck together for a project, Regulus realized that he liked your company more than anyone else’s. The first kiss was a day in the forbidden forest. Regulus had caught you after almost tripping over a tree. The next thing he knew, he was kissing you. Where his sudden surge of bravery came from, he had no idea. This kiss felt like that kiss and it made that “butterfly” feeling in his stomach go crazy.

Regulus recovered quickly enough to wrap his arms around your waist. His left hand had gone up to cradle your head. The last thing Regulus wanted was for you to change your mind and try to get away from him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

You asked, voice quivering. As much as you hated sounding like you were afraid, you were. What if Regulus decided to change his mind about everything? What if he decided later on that he didn’t want a wife and child to care for? Would you be able to go on? Part of you said “hell yes.” You had done it once before with the help of your friends. The other part said, no. Now that Regulus knew about Renee and most of what you had gone through; continuing without him would be hard. It wouldn’t be fair to you or your child.

Regulus pressed his forehead against yours.

“About?”

“Renee and I...what if you change your mind...I…”

Regulus placed two fingers on your lips to gently shush you.

“I am not going anywhere nor am I going to change my mind. I promise. Now, may I kiss you again?”

You nodded, quickly pulling Regulus back to you by the lapels of his jacket.

“Upstairs?”

You questioned. Regulus wrapped his hand around yours without even answering and tugging you up the stairs behind him.

Meanwhile,

Remus, who neither of you had seen in the opposite doorway, stood shaking his head.

“Here we go.”

_______

@amelie-black

@realgaytrash

@swinginsoulbailiffrascal

@sunles

@truly-insatiable

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@velveteencurls

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@summer-novak

@hankypranky

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@marichromatic

@maggioli-m

@stuckinsaudi1

@shaylybaby2032

@emiwrites3reads

@knight-of-gleefulness

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@sprnaturallover

@shitfaceddaniel

@wontlookaway

@mycuddlycorner

[stillgotclaws]

ah, finally finished with the blog. i’m so hype for new interactions !! 

i’ll leave this STARTER CALL / TAG DUMP here before i head to school.

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-Three: I Partake in a Really Stupid Full Frontal Assault

For a couple of minutes, she had been doing great.

Aletheia blended in seamlessly with the weapons of the other dead demigods. Her helmet was old enough that it didn’t raise suspicions, and the chest plate covered up her mortal clothes just right. She was able to scream and sprint right through the crowd which parted for her as they continued their battles with one another.

The trick was so simple but so dangerous, she had to believe nobody would think twice. There was really no other option.

“AUGHHHHH!” She shouted, ducking under a spear and continuing her sprint. One demigod scuttled backward in shock as she waved her sword around furiously. Another cheered alongside her, excited to see the shedding of more blood.

She blocked a spear, pushed away a smaller demigod's shield, and kept charging. Swords swiped over her head in passing as other demigods clashed with one another, screaming just as loudly as she was.

Holy Hermes. This was actually going to work.

Soon, she was just another blip in the field. Another helmet-covered face in the crowd. Her own human flesh was hardly any different from the revived bunch, and they couldn’t see much around her covered face. Her hands were moving too quickly around her sword to zone in on. Most of them were too focused on staying alive. Or… less dead?

She was starting to feel much more confident. Between her secret weapon buried in the straps of her armor and the rush of adrenaline from throwing herself into battle, she easily crossed two or three football fields through the rush until she was really neck deep in the battle. The portal was barely visible on the top of the hill around the swarms of demigods.

Just for a moment, she faltered. She’d run straight through the thick of it and had been for at least a few minutes to cross that much space. Was Amity still behind her? She turned, ready to spare a glance when a horrible roar shot a chill right down her spine.

She knew that voice.

She turned back towards the portal and the ongoing crowd, watching as a demigod right in front of her was sliced through the chest, his body being thrown back into another demigod with a horrible crash.  

Right in the middle of the chaos was a demigod she was hoping to never see again. Achilles.

He’d swapped out of his muscle tank for a bronze chest plate, and if he’d had a helmet at some point he didn’t anymore. His eyebrows were knitted together and narrowed in focus as he slashed and hacked. But this wasn’t like the Achilles who’d been scoffing at Theseus by the mine or picking fights with Luz and her friends back in the mountain.

This Achilles felt much more serious. Almost like he actually feared the battle. This might have reassured some, especially since Achilles was known for his arrogance and power, but to Luz, this only made him seem that much more deadly.

It looked almost effortless the way he lifted his sword, slashing down another demigod barely taller than her. He’d obviously swapped his spear for a far more deadly weapon, a five-foot bronze falcata. Luz couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction that Amity had been the one to kill him again, but right now all she could worry about was trying to get around him without being noticed.

As she tried to skirt around the edges of the battling demigods, she almost had her head knocked clean off by another sword. She raised her own to deflect it, meeting the gaze of a young demigod who couldn’t have been much younger than Achilles, though he looked nothing like him. While Achilles had layers upon layers of muscle, this demigod was almost skinny, with mischievous brown eyes behind his helmet, and smooth tan skin despite the half-dead, half-alive look the revived demigods had. He swung with his own xiphos, and Luz barely had a second to deflect before he swung again.

This demigod was fast. He was also cocky, and he turned his head to eye Achilles with an almost devilish smile.

“Just like old times, eh? Is this what you’ve been getting up to while I’ve been waiting my turn for revival?”

Luz had a moment to jump away when another demigod slashed forwards, and he had to deflect. She did her best to blend back in the crowd at the distraction, especially when she heard another sharp cutting of metal and a scream, followed by Achilles' angry shout, “Patroclus, be more careful!”

Luz continued to slash and hack her way through the crowd, her only thought to put as much distance between her and Achilles as possible. She was draining fast, and not just because the demigod Patroclus had been stronger than she’d thought. Her arms ached from working in the mines and then charging into battle, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had any sleep at all.

If she didn’t get to the other side soon, she’d drop from exhaustion.

She continued the charge, deflecting swipe after swipe and making sure her face covered by the protection of the helmet. She didn’t know if any of these demigods had fought her inside the mountain, but she did not want to be recognized here.

She could see the portal in sight now. It was maybe less than a hundred feet up the mountain, surrounded by demigods, yes, but at least in her line of sight. If Amity was already at the top, she would just have to wait until she spotted her before she used the flame to open the portal one more time and pull Amity through with her.

But that wasn’t the plan. And as much as it pained Luz to admit that she couldn’t just sneak her way out of this one, Amity had made a really good point. The quest couldn’t end until Belos was taken care of for good. And Luz had the closest thing to a plan strapped to her back.

But he wasn’t in sight. And Luz had no idea where he would be if not by the portal.

As she met another demigod's strike, she scanned the crowd desperately for Amity. She would know what to do and where to go. She just needed to find her.

She was so focused on scanning the crowd she had no time to react as another demigod lunged from her left. She had no choice but to lean as best she could, and white-hot pain seared across her side as the sword split the armor and grazed her ribs. The pain was excruciating, doubling by the tenfold just from being in the Underworld. Blood spilled down her side, and the demigod who’d cut her froze, his mouth dropping at the sight.

In between painful breaths, Luz realized revived demigods weren’t supposed to bleed. Before he could sound the alarm, she lashed out, spearing him right through the chest with Aletheia and watching as his body disintegrated.

If she didn’t close the portal soon, he’d be back.

Stumbling through the crowd half-blinded by the pain, she scuttled behind a group of boulders nestled about fifty feet from the portal. Hiding behind them, she dropped to her knees and inhaled sharply, clutching at the wound with her hand and hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. When she looked down to assess the damage, her head spun.

It felt bad because it was bad. It wasn’t deep enough to kill her right away, but it was long enough and bleeding enough that it was soaking through her shirt and down her armor. If she had nectar or ambrosia, she’d have been fine, but she didn’t and she had a mission to complete.

She needed to pull herself together. But right now, all she could think about was the pain in her side.

She pictured Amity, rolling her eyes at her stupidity. “What did I tell you, Luz?” She’d say with an annoyed sigh and a crinkle between her brows. “Don’t look back!”

She’d be right of course. Luz did look back. Exactly what she told her not to do. Her nose crinkled, thinking about the last demigod in the Underworld who wasn’t supposed to look back. She didn’t like the idea of making the same mistake Orpheus had.

As she struggled to catch her breath, breathing through the pain, she realized that the shouting and the brawling from behind her had quieted. Completely quieted.

“Oh no,” she whispered, already dreading what that meant.

She had to get back out there. Pull herself to her feet and climb to the portal. But every time she tried to stand, her vision went fuzzy. She leaned against the rock for support, eventually managing to use the ridges of the boulder to stand.

Behind the rock, the gathering demigods were sheathing their swords and turning to face the portal. As Luz’s eyes trained upwards, her lip curled on its own accord.

Belos was standing at the stop next to the portal, his white cloak shimmering and his neon eyes boring down on the gathering demigods. The crack in his mask from where Luz had stabbed him was still there, and in his hand, he was holding his pointed staff.

He was waiting for the crowd to settle. He must have called for their attention. Luz saw Theseus standing with a man in white robes and a golden chest plate, and then Achilles and Patroclus moving forward to take a position just to their left. Orpheus was on their right, still without a bow, his hand wrapped tightly around the shoulder of a woman wielding a dagger.

“Children of the gods!” He called, extending his hands as he spoke. His voice echoed around the clearing of the Underworld, rattling inside Luz’s ears. More magic. “Today, we rally together for the last time. With the strength of the portal I have created, we will charge onto Mount Olympus and tear it down brick by brick!”

There was a chorus of cheering from the gathering demigods. Spears slamming into the earth, swords clacking against shields, it was chaos. Belos lifted his hand again, and it was silent once more.

“Every one of you is here for a reason. Whether you were scorned by the gods for your skill, bravery, or passion, I have lifted you all from the darkness of the Underworld and brought you life once again! I have revived back your allies, your friends, your loved ones, and together we will grant ourselves a new life on the mortal world. It will be ours for the taking, and I, your Emperor, will lead you in glory and rid the world of the gods who have wronged us!”

Luz swallowed as cheering erupted once again. So that was why the demigods joined up with Belos. It was about more than revenge. In payment for his service, Belos had brought back Achilles’ boyfriend Patroclus. That man next to Theseus… that was his father who’d leaped off the roof of the palace when he returned home. That woman with the dagger was Euridyce, the woman who’d faded after Orpheus looked back.

Belos raised his hands again. “But children, we are not done yet. There is one more demigod who must join our ranks, and lead the charge on Olympus beside us as an ally!”

He waved someone forward, and from behind his shoulder came a shadowy spirit. The misty figure of-  

Luz’s heart stopped.

Amity crept forward, and the crowd erupted into jeers.

“Aphrodite’s brat!”

“What is she doing here?”

“Send her to the Fields of Punishment!”

Luz lunged out from behind the rock and towards the crowd, falling into rank as she lurched forward with the rest of the demigods. Her side screamed out at her and she stumbled as she charged, leaning on her sword for support. Had the whole crowd not erupted into fury, she would have been caught for sure.

“Now, now! Hold my children!” Belos called, his voice silky and smooth. The crowd came to an uneasy but eventual stop. Luz didn’t move, now between the second row of demigods less than fifty feet from Belos. Her heart was hammering with questions. How did Amity get there? What did Belos want with her? But as the misty face of Amity scanned the crowd and found her, there was something almost pleading in her gold eyes that made Luz want to charge forward and forget the plan altogether. She had to get to her, had to get her out of Belos’ slimy gloved hands and through the portal-

“We all know what the gods are capable of. They use us as their pawns, and very few of us ever learn that in life. Some of us die painful deaths and only then do we learn the truth. We mustn’t hold that against every demigod that wants to join our ranks.”

He gestured Amity forward, who took a few more tentative steps towards the crowd.

“Amity here has repented to me, and seeks to join us, just as many of you have before.”  

Luz sought to meet Amity’s eyes again, and though her face was neutral, hiding most of her fear, Luz could see right through it. This was a desperate act. A distraction she was praying Luz understood.

She scanned the clearing, looking for any kind of out for them. She was hyper-aware of the blade on her back, pleading with every god she could think of that she would find a way to get to Amity and kill Belos, all while running through the portal without being killed by the swarms of angry demigods.

The odds weren’t great.

“But, I am favorable to the feelings of those I have revived,” Belos continued, his voice dropping dangerously. Chills shot up Luz’s spine, already dreading what he was going to say next. “I require that one of my soldiers vouch for the strength and dedication of Amity Blight. Should any hero welcome her into my army, she will be rewarded with life. Should nobody volunteer… well, the Styx always welcomes new souls into its depths.”

Amity’s misty face, if possible, paled even further. Laughter range out around the gathering demigods, many of their faces twisting in malicious delight.

“Oh gods,” Luz hissed under her breath. Panic was quickly rising in her chest. She needed a plan, and fast.

When nobody stood forward, Belos tisked, but it was almost like a cat ready to play with its prey. There was nothing reassuring about it.

“Come now, nobody vouches for her? What about you, Achilles? This Blight did best you on Mount Pelion.”

More snickering rose, especially from Patroclus on his right, and Achilles stepped forward, his face red with both embarrassment and barely concealed anger.

“Beating me once is simply a fluke. This Blight will bring nothing to our table.”

Belos hummed as the crowd broke out into more cheers. “Very well. And you, Orpheus?”

The demigod stepped forward, turning up his nose at Amity. “I would hardly call this one strong. At my manor in Kansas, she could barely stand, never mind tear down Olympus.”

Luz grit her teeth in fury as the crowd cheered again, clenching her sword tight in her hand. Her rage was rising in her chest, so quickly she was easily able to block out the horrific pain in her side.

“My, my, this sure is a tough crowd,” Belos chuckled, leaning into his staff. “What about you, Theseus? You had quite the hand in this quest.”

Theseus shot Belos a cocky little smile, stepping forward almost too casually. “I was more invested in the little Noceda girl. While I’m sure she would be devastated to find out her friend is a traitor, I see no need in keeping her around. All loose ends should be tied if you truly want my opinion.”

Luz was seeing red as the crowd burst into more cheers. She took a few more steps forward, so infuriated by the arrogance of the revived demigods she wanted to just shank Aletheia right through all of them.

The second she thought it, Luz came right to a halt, an idea bubbling forward before she could stop it. Arrogance. That was all of their fatal flaws. These demigods were all so arrogant, their pride came before everything else. A demigod would sooner die than admit they were wrong, or that their actions were their own faults. It’s what had brought every single one of them here, to this clearing in the Underworld.

Maybe all Luz had to do was blow it up. Fight fire with fire, arrogance on arrogance.

Belos was still chuckling, clearly amused by the gambling of Amity’s afterlife. Next to him, Amity was standing completely still. Luz would do whatever it took to get her out of there, and she had a pretty good feeling that if done right, this would work.

“Come now, children,” Belos cooed, “will none of you vouch for Amity Blight?”

Luz gathered up all her strength, and with a deep breath, charged straight out of the crowd and towards Belos. There was a series of shocked gasps from the demigods as she did, and Belos’ eyes watched her curiously as she stepped forward, reaching for her helmet and throwing it off her head and onto the floor. For just a moment, deep satisfaction ran through Luz as she watched Belos’ eyes widened, obviously floored she was standing in front of him.

“I will, Belos,” she said, pointing her sword at him. “Amity is the strongest, bravest, and most honest demigod I know, and anybody would be honored to have her fight alongside them. That’s why I’m going to kill you and destroy this portal once and for all. I challenge you!”

There was half a second of complete silence. Most of the crowd looked stunned, mouths open and shoulders hunched in awe. Next to Belos, Amity shot her a proud little half-smile that sent butterflies right through her chest. Then, a furious roar began to take over the crowd. Luz braced herself, ready to be run right through by a hundred swords when Belos’ eyes narrowed and a deep shout, louder than anything she’d ever heard in her life, belted across the clearing.

“THAT IS ENOUGH.”

An eerie hush fell over the crowd. Luz couldn’t see behind the dark narrowing of his neon blue eyes, but she imagined that Belos’ jaw was grinding his teeth together. She’d put him in a tough position. Ignore the challenge, and he looked weak. Accept, and there was a chance he would lose.

“You think you’re special, demigod?” He hissed, stepping forward and gripping his staff. “You think that some prophecy will save you? A new age will dawn, whether you like it or not. And here you are, bleeding out on my soldiers field, ready to die for this cause.”

“I’m not special, and neither are you!” Luz retorted, taking two confident steps forward. “All I see is a cowardly demigod unwilling to fight his own battles and command his army. You hide behind others to do your dirty work. What makes you better than the gods?”

There was an uncomfortable shuffle in the crowd as they processed what Luz was saying. Belos laughed, shaking his head.

“I brought them life again! I will bring them a new world of peace!”

“You scare them into submission,” Luz said certainly. “You’d make no better a leader than the gods. That’s why I’m going to stop you for good. Right here, right now.”

Luz didn’t have to look behind her to know that the gathering demigods were considering what she was saying. It was all over Belos’ face. Right there, for just a moment, she was more arrogant than him. She had control, and he was going to fight her tooth and nail to get it back.

“Alright, little demigod,” he hissed, spinning his staff into a sword. “Let’s play.”

He charged right at her, and Luz met his first strike furiously with one of her own. A deep metal clang echoed around the clearing, and for a moment, both of them strained against one another. Luz ducked, letting the force of his sword throw him off balance, and aimed a stab at his calf. Belos deflected, and Luz had no choice but to step back as he swung again.

“Sloppy work at best,” Belos spat, and Luz grit her teeth, reading her next swing. Behind them, the roar of the crowd spurred her on, and she made brief eye contact with Amity, who was discreetly trying to make her way towards the portal. Her expression told it all to Luz: make it quick.

She was right. Luz might have been angry, but so was Belos. She needed to keep matching him, arrogance for arrogance until he let his guard down just enough…

Metal met metal again. Luz kept at him, swipe after swipe. But she was weakening, lightheaded, and exhausted, and she had no idea how much longer she could keep this up. The only reason she was still alive was that Belos was taken aback because she had been the one to issue the challenge. He was surprised, but she was out of his depth.

It didn’t take long. He smacked the flat end of his blade hard against her shoulder, and she stumbled backward and hit the ground on her back. The crowd jeered behind her as she struggled to sit up, but Belos kicked her back down with his boot.

Her side screamed at her as she rolled, and she lay on her back in the dirt gasping for breath. Aletheia skidded towards the portal, leaving her unarmed. But behind her, the straps on her armor had loosened, and she felt ice-cold metal slide down her back. The blade.

Belos marched over to her, shifting his sword back into a staff and pointing it down threateningly at her. “Did you really think you could kill me here, demigod? I am their Emperor.”

Luz carefully adjusted the straps on her armor, feeling the dagger slide further down her shirt. With her back to the portal and her eyes to the crowd, nobody would have noticed the little action, especially since genuine agony ripped across her face.

She just needed one more little shimmy, and it was out.

“You come to my camp, antagonize my army, and you think I’ll just bow and cower?” Belos continued, and Luz looked up and met her brown eyes with his cold neon ones.

“I mean, I was kind of hoping you would.”

Belos growled, quickly losing his patience. He reached down and grabbed Luz by the strap of her chest plate, and Luz took that opportunity to shimmy one more time. With a satisfying plop, the knife hit the dirt behind her.

“You are every bit as loathingly arrogant as your father.”

It took everything Luz had to not scream in agony has Belos pressed further into her armor, and then into the wound. But with every last bit of strength she could muster, she leaned up towards his face.

“Do you want to hear a fun fact?”

“What?” For a second, Belos was completely taken aback, and Luz used that moment to reach behind her, gripping the hilt as tightly as she could.

“My dad wasn’t just the god of travelers and merchants,” Luz said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “He was also known as the divine trickster.”

And with all the force she could manage, Luz spun the dagger around and sunk it right into his chest.

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 7: FIRST DAY OF CAMP

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever we went, campers pointed at us and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet. She showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough. Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. "I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall." "Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets." "Whatever." "It wasn't my fault." She looked at us skeptically, and I realized it might've been my fault. I may have made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures and made the ground shake. I didn't understand how. "You need to talk to the Oracle, both of you." Annabeth said. "Who?" "Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron." Percy stared into the lake, I rested my head on his shoulder wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if I were a long-lost friend. I didn't know what else to do. I waved back. "Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts." "Naiads," Percy repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now." Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us." "You mean, mentally disturbed kids?" "I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human." "Half-human and half-what?" "I think you know." "God," I said. "Half-god." Annabeth nodded. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. And one of your parent isn't your parent, Y/N. You are both a child of one of the Olympians. " "That's... crazy." "Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?" "But those are just— But if all the kids here are half-gods—" "Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods." "Then who's your dad?" Her hands tightened around the pier railing. I got the feeling we'd just trespassed on a sensitive subject. "My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history." "He's human." "What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?" "Who's your mom, then?" "Cabin six." "Meaning?" Annabeth straightened. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle." Okay, I thought. Why not? "And who's mine?" "You grew up with both a mother and a father. So only your Olympian parent knows." "And my dad?" "Undetermined," Annabeth said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows." "Except my mother. She knew." "Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities." "My dad would have. He loved her." Annabeth gave me a cautious look. She didn't want to burst my bubble. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens." "You mean sometimes it doesn't?" Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us." I thought about some of the kids I'd seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. But gods should behave better. Whoever my Olympian parent better suck up and claim me or I will show him. "So I'm stuck here," Percy said. "That's it? For the rest of my life?" "It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that." "So monsters can't get in here?" Annabeth shook her head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside." "Why would anybody want to summon a monster?" "Practice fights. Practical jokes." "Practical jokes?" "The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm." "So... you're a year-rounder?" Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring. "I've been here since I was seven," she said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college." "Why did you come so young?" She twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business." "Oh." I stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. "So... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?" "It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission." "I've never had anything weird going on. I had a perfectly normal life." "It's because you don't give much of a half-blood scent. Even Grover didn't knew you were one of us until you came here. Even now they still don't smell you." "I just... want to go somewhere... else." I could see that Percy was guilty. "They wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless..." "Unless?" "You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time..."

Her voice trailed off. I could tell from her tone that the last time hadn't gone well. "Back in the sick room," Percy said, "when you were feeding me that stuff—" "Ambrosia." "Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice." Annabeth's shoulders tensed. "So you do know something?" "Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?" She clenched her fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal." "You've been to Olympus?" "Some of us year-rounders—Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others—we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council." "But... how did you get there?" "The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at us like she was sure I must know this already. "You are a New Yorker, right?" "Oh, sure." As far as I knew, there were only a hundred and two floors in the Empire State Building, but I decided not to point that out. "Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping... I mean— Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something." I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions. "I've got to get a quest," Annabeth muttered to herself. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem..." I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabeth must've heard my stomach growl. She told me to go on, she'd catch me later. I left her on the pier, tracing her finger across the rail as if drawing a battle plan. Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. For the first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers. Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to us as we walked in. Percy left me to settle at his spot while I sat at mine. Luke, came over. He had the Hermes family resemblance, too. It was marred by that scar on his right cheek, but his smile was intact. "I hope you settle in just fine," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store." He had a very friendly and welcoming aura around him, I couldn't help but giggle, "Thanks." "No prob." Luke sat next to me. "Tough first day?" "I don't belong here," I said. "From what I've heard about other campers. I had a perfectly normal life. Nothing weird... I-I don't even believe in Gods..." "Yeah," he said. "That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them? It doesn't get any easier." The bitterness in his voice surprised me, because Luke seemed like a pretty easygoing guy. He looked like he could handle just about anything. "So your dad is Hermes?" I asked. He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, but he just scraped the mud off the sole of his sandal. "Yeah. Hermes." "The wing-footed messenger guy." "That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors." I figured Luke didn't mean to call me a nobody. He just had a lot on his mind. "You ever meet your dad?" I asked. "Once." I waited, thinking that if he wanted to tell me, he'd tell me. Apparently, he didn't. I wondered if the story had anything to do with how he got his scar. Luke looked up and managed a smile. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other." He seemed to understand how lost I felt, and I was grateful for that, because an older guy like him—even if he was a counselor—should've steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like me. But Luke had welcomed me into the cabin. He'd even stolen me some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for me all day keeping Percy's works. I decided to ask him my last big question, the one that had been bothering me all afternoon. "Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me and Percy being 'Big Three' material. Then Annabeth... twice, she said I might be 'the one.' She said I should talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?" Luke folded his knife. "I hate prophecies." "What do you mean?" His face twitched around the scar. "Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp." "Somebody special?" "Don't worry about it, kid," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for." I didn't know why... but I grabbed his hand, he turned to me surprised. "I-I... Uhm, I want to get to know you better... I... I'm here if you want to talk. A-As a thank you for helping me since I got here! I-I..." He gave a warm smile and ruffled my hair. "Thank you. Now, come on, it's dinnertime." The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance. Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!" The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last with Percy. Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down. "Percy," "Hmm?" "Are you okay?" I was about to grip his sleeve when he moved away. "I'm sorry... I'll tell you after dinner." I looked at him sadly while he thought to himself. We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the meadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out of the woods— and when I say out of the woods, I mean straight out of the woods. I saw one girl, about nine or ten years old, melt from the side of a maple tree and come skipping up the hill. In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads. At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. I had to squeeze on to the edge of a bench with half my butt hanging off. I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur. Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey-blond hair. Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends. Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!" Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!" Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! Percy sat beside other kids of the Hermes cabin. My glass was empty, but Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—nonalcoholic, of course." I said, "(Favorite Drink; F/D)." The glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid. Then I had an idea. "F/C F/D." The drink turned a violent shade of F/C. I took a cautious sip. Perfect.. . . . . I drank a toast to my loved ones. They're not gone, I told myself. I felt like I was forgetting something. Like I know I will get too them all soon. "Here you go," Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket. I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion. I wondered if they were going for dessert or something. "Come on," Luke told me. As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll. Luke murmured in my ear, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell." "You're kidding." His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food. Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes." I was next. I wished I knew what god's name to say. Finally, I made a silent plea. Whoever you better claim me, or I will come for you and you won't like what I'll do. I scraped a big slice of brisket into the flames. When I caught a whiff of the smoke, I didn't gag. It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. I could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke. When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention. Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels." A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table. "Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new campers today. Peter Johnson and (Wrong Name)." Chiron murmured something. "Er, Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on." Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I went up to Percy. "What's wrong?" He sighed. "I... I feel like everything... All of this," He signaled at everything, "happened because you met me. When you told Annabeth about your life and how nothing had been going wrong, while I had trouble following me every step... I couldn't help but feel guilty." I knew it... He felt at fault. Taking his hand I looked at him, "I chose to be with you at the beach. I wanted to follow you. I wanted to stay with you. Yeah, troubles came and I lost everything... I would rather have you with me through that. Please?" He rested his head on my shoulder, "Yeah..." Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. It was late at night some were asleep, while some were screaming around. I stayed up looking out the window since Luke had warned me about going out. "Long day, how was it?" Luke greeted taking the spot beside me. "Almost had my face flushed down on smelly toilets, so real fun I guess." Luke rested his back against the window and looked at the two boys wrestling each other few feet away. "You know how you told me you wanted to get to know me more?" "Yeah... I mean it. You're the first person I met here. From what I heard you helped me after getting here." "So you feel obligated to get closer to me?" He raised a brow at me with a smirk. "No, I think you're interesting. I want us to be friends. I want to be a person you can trust." "Why?" "I... don't know. I guess I just want to. I mean yeah I also low-key kinda have a crush on you but oh well." I joked. Hearing his laugh I was relieved he was a cool guy. "I'll keep you in mind." "Really now? Okay dream of me I guess." "For a 12 year old you're a flirt." He shook his head with a smile. "It's my mom, she told me the best way to make friends is by flirting. If they're cool with you flirting they're perfect candidate for a friend, if they aren't, you'll have an awkward friendship." "I don't know about that." "I know right? Imagine teaching a 5 year old how to flirt." We laughed. We continued to chat about little things until it got quiet in the cabin. Most of them were now asleep. Percy slept as soon as he lied down, after all. "Good night." Luke smiled. "Yeah, good night." I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on the bed. When I closed my eyes, I fell asleep instantly. That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood. I already felt like I belong. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all...

Previous | Masterlist | Next

I am in love with Luke I'm sorry Here's another chapter Another horirble caphetr UwU -kookie-doughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tigre

“.... Where am I?” Tigre opened his eyes to darkness and the sound of his own deep voice. The black hulks of the concrete pillars stood in rows on the cold concrete floor.  “Oh… I know where this is.”

“Where are you?” An unfamiliar voice said. It was friendly… curious. Non-threatening.

“It’s where I live. But there are no chains any more. Brother broke the chains. I’m so tired. I want to sleep.” He closed his eyes again but the voice woke him.

“Brother?”

“Yes. He came… and he commanded the chains to burn and they fell off.” He suddenly saw his ‘brother’ there, standing with golden eyes. He saw as clear as if it was happening now, how that deep snarling sent heat through the thick iron chains that bound him for years and melted them like ice.

“He is your brother?”

“He has eyes like mine…” says Tigre, looking fondly at the image of this man. “No one else has eyes like mine. Is he okay? Zihang…” He remembered the explosion and the collapse of the building. He stood against the rubble, but he could smell the blood of Zihang. So much blood. “Please don’t die… don’t die, Zihang…” Tears ran down his cheeks and he curled into a ball.

“You know his name?”

“Yes.”

A square of blue light shined on his face suddenly. A different voice sounded from it, distant and electronic. “Zihang… Chu Zihang. Do you read? Come in! Come in, Chu Zihang!” 

That’s how he knew his rescuer’s name.

“What is your name?”

“Tigre… Where is Zihang? Is Zihang okay?” He stood up and started walking, looking for the source of the voice.

He suddenly saw a man standing there and stopped a moment before retreating again behind a pillar.

“Are you afraid?”

“Who are you? Where is this? The building blew up. This isn’t real. Are you going to try to kill me?” He asked question after question, breathing hard from panic.

“Why would I kill you?” The voice remained calm and curious, almost confused.

A vision of a dark shadow moved swiftly between the pillars. Tigre knew this shadow. It was the great beast he fought and killed last. It was hiding, but he could hear it breathing, its growling.

The friendly voice fell silent. 

Tigre didn’t cower or hide. His posture changed to stalking. He walked forward slowly, staying in the shadows of the pillars. But he moved forward with intent, without fear. He kept his head still.

He could hear the monster moving. The monster was hesitating. It was behind the pillar directly in front of him. It was either going to attack or retreat. Tigre wanted to push it to retreat. So he moved forward a step...then another step and then he ran. Three long strides and he was at the pillar and the monster retreated, turning his back to him to run away.  

But Tigre was already on top of it. He dragged it down with his weight and pinned it to the hard floor. His arm wrapped its throat and choked it. The monster was about twice as big and heavy as he was, but its breath was choked off by Tigre’s bulging arm muscles. Tigre felt that rapid pulse through his skin and just focused on squeezing, harder, harder… harder!

The creature died. He could feel the heart stop.  After a few seconds of stillness he let go. It was once some sort of mammal but now it was covered in scales, bare of fur, eyes rolled back to their whites. It may have been a cow.

“What are you going to do now?”

Tigre looked down, sadly. “Eat him.” 

“Why?”

“I have nothing else to eat. They did not feed me for a long time. Many days. If I don’t eat him, it will be days before I can eat again. I will have to eat him. You will eat anything if you feel hungry and desperate enough. Eating him makes me sick. But if I don’t eat, I will starve to death.”

The voice was silent for a while. 

Tigre sat next to the corpse. This wasn’t real. He had done this already. A sharp pain stabbed through the center of his skull and he flinched. “Hurts… Who are you?”

“My name is Toyama. I’m here to help you.”

“Where is Zihang?” He looked up. 

“He’s okay. Who are they? The ones that feed you?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” said Toyama. “That part of your life is over. And a new life will start for you. I will help guide you to it, but you must be careful and not hurt anyone. Even if they try to hurt you. You must do no harm. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now rest a little while longer. We will speak again.”

Tigre lay on the hard cold ground and felt unbearably sleepy. He closed his eyes.

Toyama released him from the trance he’d put him in. He sat next to the young man’s bed, listening to him breathe quietly.

Before putting him in the trance, he had sat like this for nearly thirty minutes.

Schneider had approached him that morning about this new recruit. The man spoke to him in private instead of going through official channels on the Nightwatcher Forum. He told him he wanted to evaluate the mental state of this newcomer as closely as he could and write a detailed and honest assessment of it, to be completely honest in his opinion and to report privately, only to him.

Toyama was an experienced psychologist, and knew that Schneider was prone to secrecy, a loner who had his own way of doing things, but never had he been personally solicited by him to do an evaluation.  Usually he worked closely with the other professors, Guderian and the Principal Anjou. This was the first time Schneider had approached him over an evaluation. It took great effort for the man to get anywhere. The oxygen container allowed him to do things, but he was nowhere near the stamina of a healthy person. For him to make the great effort to meet him in person told him the importance of the request.

On the day of this evaluation, he was personally escorted to the ward by senior members of the Executive Board and left there without anyone speaking. He used Schneider’s own security card to get in, meaning Schneider was shielding him from involvement. He closed the door behind him and he was only with this young man, who was still heavily sedated.

He sat with him and started with physical observations. Like Manstein, he could observe the scars from the battles and the shackles. But unlike Manstein, he could draw conclusions about the psychological effects of long term confinement. You didn’t shackle someone, unless you needed to be in physical proximity of someone dangerous and wanted to do something to them that they didn’t want you to do to them.

He expected to see abuse.

So in this quiet hospital room, he started his psychological evaluation, calling for his Yanling to enter what he knew would be a damaged mind. But instead of a vast storehouse of tragic information, he found a jumbled mess, full of long gaps of memory lost. Memories scattered through time like a reel of a movie that had been cut to pieces and thrown on the floor. And instead of a wide variety of experiences, he just saw the same dark space, filled with foundation pillars.

He didn’t see someone driven mad by the isolation and the violence. He saw someone one who was only concerned about his rescuer, Chu Zihang. Someone who didn’t voluntarily kill from frustration and violence, but someone who fought and killed for food.

So he went in again. And then a third time and found the same thing. The young man was given fertile ground for a twisted mind, but his mind had grown up tall and straight.

After several hours, he decided he could honestly write that the young man’s mind appeared healthy, but he had some reservations, namely, the piecemeal nature of his memories. Toyama never met someone in his life who had the same Yanling as him, who could mold and shape the memories of a person. But that didn’t mean that he was the only one. He knew his own work, and he had the feeling that someone had forcefully erased and manipulated the mind of this man, to make him docile. Based on the hard facts, he could recommend him to the College, but it wasn’t just his body that had been shackled, but his mind had been shackled as well.

He returned to Schneider who looked over the report. He then prepared tea for him and sat across from him. The quiet hiss of his oxygen tank was the only sound while he read. Toyama couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at Schneider’s odd behavior. Perhaps Schneider should be the one getting an evaluation instead. It was obvious that the good health of the patient wasn’t natural. It was induced. His mind was pruned like a delicate and beautiful bonsai tree that would require maintenance. Toyama got the feeling that he was going to be asked to continue that ‘maintenance’. 

He was right.

Schneider was very satisfied with this evaluation and even smiled. Toyama was accustomed to whitewashing minds for the benefit of the world. The Executive division was occasionally messy with its work and the world had to remain ignorant of dragons. Perhaps Schneider assumed that he wouldn’t mind this job but he preferred not to use his abilities against students. He still believed in free will and the right for hybrids to understand their world. On the other hand, he also understands that freeing the patient's mind could also spell his doom and he felt pity for him.

The patient, named officially Tigre, was moved to an ordinary room in the hospital and ordinary accomodations were being prepared for him. Toyama felt it was right to introduce him to the world gradually. Tigre wouldn’t understand the world at all and the students wouldn’t understand him. To throw him in uninitiated would be a disaster.

He saw Tigre’s eyes open genuinely to the world.. The voice he heard was Toyama’s, welcoming him. Tigre stared in recognition, remembering his voice from his dreams, like a baby opening his eyes for the first time and recognizing the voice of his mother from the womb.

Breakfast was simply a bland, slightly sweetened warm cereal and a small amount of apple. Toyama fed him at first with a spoon. Tigre devoured these foods, rising up from the bed to follow the spoon as it retreated and opening his mouth for the next bite. Even those middling flavors were like the taste of ambrosia to someone forced to eat nothing but raw flesh. His eyes grew wide and bright, and Toyama was forced to look away. That inhuman and icy fire pierced him with fear.

He then slid a pair of sunglasses over Tigre’s eyes. “You need these to help others see you better.” He gently explained.

That yellow light was dampened by the dark lenses and Tigre nodded. 

He bathed him with a warm cloth, clipped his nails, and combed his long hair. Tigre was unused to any touch at all and the hairs rose on his skin and he shivered, closing his eyes. 

Toyama pulled out his phone to flash cards in different languages. He would ask him to tell him what a single word said. If Tigre pronounced the word he would nod and go to a different language. The young man spoke English, but could also read it. He read in both Chinese, Korean, and a little Japanese. This spoke to a high level of education at an early age.

Toyama had tried to look into his earliest memories, but attempting to do so caused him physical pain. He didn’t want to ruin their relationship so whenever the man expressed that something hurt, he backed off and didn’t do it again. Now he knew that this wasn’t some orphaned street child in the middle of nowhere. Someone who could read so many languages had to have gone to a private or prestigious school.

His memories of his early childhood had been erased. But there had to be traces of it. He made similar evaluations of his recognizing numbers, his understanding of math. He brought a table and put a corn seed on the table, a cup of dirt, and a cup of water and asked him to tell him what to do with it. This was to evaluate his understanding of science. Tigre stared at it for a long time. His eyes suddenly squinted and he flinched slightly and turned away as if seeing the sunlight after leaving a dark room. Toyama wrote this down. He wasn’t sure why understanding how plants grew elicited pain, but it was important to establish these patterns.

Toyama played music. Music was something embedded deep in the mind and if he had any memories of his childhood he would react. He played the themes of music from children’s television. When he started playing the theme song for ‘Reading Rainbow’, Tigre grew visibly upset and started to pant, clutching his head. Tigre burst into tears, crying. “It hurts. It hurts!”

He collapsed on the bed, writhing and sobbing until Toyama had him sedated for the rest of the day. Toyama completed and sent this evaluation to Schneider who responded with a short message that the reintroduction to life should continue.

[saltarstream]

Silver Platter

hi another one! this time grimm gets pissy about infanticide <333 this is an actual story and not merged with a poem. anyway this posted with no paragraph breaks originally i love my job

The troupe master narrowed his eyes down at the king, looming over him. That piercing scarlet gaze saw straight through the royal's visage, through that mask of his, that facade.

"You expect me to train an ambrosia to fight against my own kin?"

"Did she not cast you out?"

"You want to train a living thing to kill and eternally suffer at the hands of a god? You want me to train that thing? Your own child?"

"You are no saint, Grimm. You make your child suffer as well."

"Death is an endless song. They are perfectly aware they will die, all living things should be. At least I nurture my kin and give my life to fuel theirs - you cast aside your other children, deeming them failed experiments for daring to *think*."

"They are not children, Nightmare King, let alone mine! They don't have wills to suffer anyhow."

"And how would you know that? You stripped them of a voice."

"And they could not find another way to tell me?"

"They're babies, wyrm. You are murdering babies who have not yet felt a mother's love."

"My Lady agrees with me."

Grimm laughs at that - snorts, even. "Oh really? What if I pulled her into here now, put her on the spot? I'm sure she'd love you even more for spreading rumours about her."

"Do not dare bring my wife into this, dreameater."

Grimm froze at that. "Ah, and what you know I consider a slur too, fantastic. You always were perfect with words."

There's a new tone to the nightmare's voice, and the wyrm stiffens, studying that newfound flame in his eyes carefully. He could feel the heat coming off of Grimm from as far as he stood, adjusting his robes so as not to seem improper when he was really afraid they might catch on fire from how heated the nightmare was becoming.

There's a laugh. It's somewhat disembodied - half there, half not. And the voice belonged to the Nightmare King himself, the Heart's own direct representation. He was absolutely, undoubtedly livid.

"You are pathetic, wyrm. Killing children for petty revenge against that which you stole from first. Planning to use your own kin to imprison mine for eternity."

He began to circle the Pale King, like a vulture studying newfound carrion; "Once your spawn is weak enough She will be freed. And for what? There must be a point where you draw the line."

"It is my duty as a king to serve my people," The Pale King finally said, yet his tone was thin and his words empty. "There is no cost too great when it comes to what I am willing to sacrifice."

"What if it meant your Lady? Yourself?"

"And what if it meant your child?" Snapped the king, yet he realized what he had said all too late.

"It all comes back to this, doesn't it? My child, your child... the spawn of a nightmarish beast and a shriveled, broken king..."

The troupe master smooths out his collar, his cloak seeming to get rather ruffed up with how heated he'd become.

"I will train your spawn. If only to prepare them for the task ahead. But please, allow me to warn you one final time..."

The troupe master leaned down, and he leaned in close, snarling. A staff appeared beside him in a whirl of flame, and he was quick to clutch it. The lantern kindled at the edge, he pointed it at the king (standing up straight as he did so), the scarlet embers singing the wyrm's cloak.

"When they are weak and frail, I will free them. When my sister is gone, the dream realm will be entirely mine, your spawn freed and resenting you every waking moment. Every sleep, I will haunt you. Every sleep, you will see yourself die a thousand times over, each death for one child - one vessel, as you dumb them down to."

The Pale King opened his mouth to speak, but his words fell on deaf ears, if they had fallen at all. Perhaps the world itself had shunned and shushed him in this moment.

"Your mind will shatter. Your will shall break. Your voice will be left raspy and charred for eons to come. I am preparing a silver platter for you, my wyrm, a meal to satisfy the Heart for eternity. Your downfall will taste divine."

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 14: Her World is Shaken, Not Stirred

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict��what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4454

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 13: She Makes a Confession

In all the centuries that you’d been at the edge of Tartarus, muttering your spells and securing the cage, you’d never known it to be quiet. But, there you were, doing your routine without so much as a peep from the monster below.

Kronos was silent. He didn’t speak, didn’t laugh, didn’t even breathe loudly. It was out of character for him; usually, he would take any and all opportunities to mock you and get under your skin, but he didn’t even greet you.

You should’ve been thankful that he didn’t distract you, after all these years of struggling to keep your focus, but the silence was eerie and unnerving. But, no matter, you had a job to do and so you were going to do it.

Your voice was powerful and strong as it always was and you cast your spells with an expert tongue. With your repeated and more frequent visits, you could almost speak the enchantments in your sleep. They’d become second nature to you.

You were eager to finish with the day’s enchantments. Although strengthening the cage was an important job, you had to maintain your life outside of Tartarus. One such activity you had to keep up was the weekly brunch with your mother.

As far as you knew, she was on her way at that moment, which should’ve excited you. After all, you loved seeing your mother, especially since she hadn’t been able to make it down last week for brunch. But you were apprehensive instead. Your father was quiet which was not normal at all. Not a single word left his mouth, not even as the last syllables left your lips.

Finally done, you stared down into the pit once more. Your eyes scanned the darkness, desperately searching for something to explain the silence, but you came up with nothing.

As you reluctantly turned your back on the pit and started walking out, you couldn’t help but think to yourself, “Hey, this could be a good thing! He’s quiet, that means that we’ve just bound him tight enough that he doesn’t have any energy to speak.”

You knew that was a long shot at best and that he was probably plotting something, but you’d done all you could for the day. You’d exhausted your magic stores on his extra charms and you’d need a day to recharge before you could do it again. But whatever; you’d just go down and do it again the next day.

The walk out of the cave and through the Meadows to your home was as long as ever. You waded through the souls that milled about the Asphodel Meadows, doing your best to not disturb them as you made your way home. Murmuring polite “excuse me’s,” you turned your eyes up towards the mansion on the mountain to see if your mother had arrived yet. If she had, it was no big deal. You’d given the kitchen spirits enough warning that brunch would be ready the second she arrived. You scanned the windows and, sure enough, a woman moved behind the glass. Your lips twitched up and you quickened your pace a smidge bit. You were eager to see your mother.

It didn’t take you long to scale the mountain to your porch and saunter through the front door. You were greeted with the sweet and savory smell of ambrosia and hashbrowns. Your mouth was watering within seconds and you dived into the house towards your dining room. 

Rhea was already seated in the chair to the right of the head of the table. Her thick brown hair which had the slightest trace of grey from age was tied in a loose bun on the back of her head, held back by hair ties and clips. Her body was adorned with pale lilac nursing scrubs; she must’ve just gotten off of work or was planning on going in for a shift after brunch. She was playing with a golden knife that had been set out, no food on her plate yet despite the numerous platters teeming with brunch foods and ambrosia sitting in the center of the table. She had a lazy smile on her face, she was in no rush, ready to wait as long as she needed for her eldest child to arrive.

When she heard your footsteps, she looked up from her knife and grinned warmly. “Hey, little one.”

Instantly you were put at ease, your mother’s calming aura filling you with warmth and peace. “Hey, Mom.”

She stood to embrace you, wrapping her arms around your torso in a tight hug as you approached. “I’m so sorry I had to cancel last week; the hospital was short-staffed and I couldn’t get away.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I understand. Believe me, things have been hectic enough down here in the Underworld that I was probably going to have to cancel anyways. You just beat me to it.” You chuckled as you pulled back and took your spot at the head of the table. “How have things been? You said they were busy”

She sat down again and pulled her napkin off the table to set in her lap as she said, “Well, you know how it is. I’ve been hailed as one of the best labor and delivery nurses in the state because every case I work on, even if they have little to no chance of being successful, always goes smoothly. Hospitals all over the surrounding area are giving me offers to work with them. The hospitals I’m working with now are booking me as much as they legally can. Just this week, I’m working eight-hour shifts every day at three different hospitals.”

You had to suppress an eye roll as you began to shovel food from the platters onto your own plate, making sure to give yourself a healthy dose of hashbrowns and ambrosia. “Gee,” you started, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I wonder why your deliveries go so well. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re the titaness of motherhood and ease, now would it?”

She scoffed.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you don’t need to sleep nor eat.” You jabbed your fork into the hashbrowns in front of you and lifted it to your lips. You chewed and swallowed with some reluctance. They tasted off this morning—a little sour and bitter. You scrunched up your nose as you forced it down and took a drink of your water to deal with the aftertaste. 

“No,” your mother said looking down at her food, “but it is a guilty pleasure of mine”. She was eyeing the ambrosia squares on the table and eagerly reached for them. “Food is one of the simple pleasures I enjoy in life.”

You watched as she bit into one and bobbed your head. “Yeah, I know.”

She munched on the square, waiting until she’d finished before speaking again. “Anyways, enough about me. You said that things have been hectic down here? What’s going on?”

Your tired sigh ended with an equally tired smile. “Lot’s of things, Mom, lots of things. Work is piling up, the spirits are getting rowdy, and Father is—”

“Your father?” she asked, her voice suddenly tense and rigid. Her utensils froze in place and she turned her head to face you. “What’s going on with him?”

“Nothing yet, but that’s what I’m afraid of.” You briefly told her how he’d been the most talkative person you knew for so long and then shut completely up today. You hung your head and let out an exasperated sigh. “The spirits are getting restless, almost as if something is coming. I don’t know, Mom. I just have this bad feeling in my stomach like a storm is brewing.”  

Rhea clenched and unclenched her fists over and over again, pondering over your claims. Her eyes were dark and serious, more so than you’d seen them in a long time. Finally, she let out a gentle breath and said, “I’m sure it’s nothing, my dear. Just a feeling.” Her words were reassuring but her tone was still doubtful. It was almost like she was trying to convince herself as well as you that her words were true. She turned her gaze down and continued to eat.

You did the same and a stiff silence fell over the table. You weren’t sure what you could say to relieve the tension so you said nothing at all. You just ate, letting your mother soak in the information you had just given. 

She seemed to be lost in her own world for a bit and you let her stay there for as long as she needed. You were just content to sit in her company. After all, you and your mother were at that point in your relationship where you didn’t have to be talking to spend quality time together. You’d spent many brunches not even saying a word, and you were okay with this one being the same.

You didn’t mind it, especially since you were going to be able to get in your daily dosage of socialization after she left.

Bucky was coming over yet again. He said over the phone that he had something to give to you but he wouldn’t discern what it was. It’d been so long since you’d gotten a present of any sorts that even the thought of getting this small one made you excited. You basically trembled with anticipation as you theorized about what he had gotten you. You would’ve liked to say you had an idea of sorts, but that would’ve been a lie; Bucky was so unpredictable sometimes that you never knew what he was going to do or what he was going to bring. One time, last week, he said he had a small gift for Cerberus. You thought he meant like a dog treat or something. He meant a giant tennis ball that was bigger than your head. Where he’d even found it, you had no idea, but Cerberus and his three heads loved the thing.

You snickered slightly at the thought of the giant dog scampering across the Asphodel Meadows as he chased after it, trampling disgruntled spirits underfoot.

“What’re you thinking about?” your mother asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

You blinked and sat up straighter. “Oh, nothing.”

She glanced at you sideways, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards in a knowing smirk. “Come on, (y/n), I know you better than that. Tell me.” 

“It’s nothing, Mom,” you said again, trying to brush the subject off.

She hummed and continued to look at you, taking a few moments of silence before asking, “Does he make you happy?”

Your eyebrows shot up, and your mouth fell open. “Huh?”

Rhea gave you a knowing smile and elaborated saying, “The boy you’re seeing; does he make you happy?”

How the fuck did she know you were seeing someone? You’d told her it was nothing!

As if reading your mind, or perhaps your boggled expression, she just chuckled and folded her hands on the table. “My dear, I know you well enough to know when something good is happening in your life and, based on the smell of cologne that lingers in the air and that dreamy look on your face, it’s not hard to figure out that it’s a boy that’s making you all lovely.” She smiled softly. “I don’t need to know anything about him, I just need to know that he makes you happy.” Her brows knit together as she looked at you, her eyes searching your face.

You paused for a bit before clearing your throat and saying, “Bucky, he… He makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time. Even with all this chaos going on, I still know that he’s there for me and I can just be myself around him. He puts up with all my queenly shit and keeps me on my toes. And he’s persistent as fu— As hell.” You lowered your gaze self-consciously. You weren’t supposed to cuss in front of your mom. “He’s kind and considerate and always looks out for me. He just wants me to be happy, and I…”

“You love him,” she finished for you, her smile only widening and growing softer.

She really had a way of knowing, didn’t she? You nodded your head, a smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah, I really do, Mom.”

“Then he has my blessing; not that you guys needed it in the first place. You’re a grown woman; you can make your own decisions by now, including who you date.” She leaned back in her chair. “But Bucky though… Bucky as in Winnifred’s kid?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up. “Yeah… That’s the one.”

She snorted. “And how did his mother take that one? I thought she hated you.”

“Oh, well, you see, she doesn’t actually know yet, I don’t think.” Your shoulders shot up and your lips pressed together in a shrug. “It’s just a technicality…”

“Uh-huh. A technicality that’s probably going to burn you in the end.” She shook her head. “I won’t be the one to spill the beans, but you’re probably going to want to tell his mother soon. She won’t take kindly to it at first, but then again there’s nothing she can really do about it. You two are consenting deities and you are older and more powerful than she is, so she can’t separate you. But just be prepared for the shit storm she’ll unleash.”

“Oh, I will be.” You dreaded the day that Winnifred found out about yours and Bucky’s relationship, but you also knew that your mother was right; she couldn't keep you apart. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless. 

“Good.” She inhaled sharply before pushing out her chair and rising to her feet. “Well, I had probably best be going now. Celia will have my head if I’m late for my shift.” She chuckled and pushed in her chair. “Same time next week?”

“Always.” You stood with her and let her cross the table to your side before walking her towards the front door. You turned the knob and yanked it open, startling the person behind it.

Bucky jumped back a foot, letting out a yelp of surprise. His fist had been poised to knock on the door right as you’d opened it and his eyes were wide. He clutched a small box he’d been holding close to his chest tighter as quickly distanced himself from the door.

You stared at him. Holy shit, you hadn’t even heard him come down. Shows just how much attention you paid to detail. “Bucky!” you greeted, your voice rising with the syllables. “You’re early!”

“Y-Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you.” His gaze flickered between you and your mother. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Oh, no, I was just leaving.” Rhea smiled graciously down at him, her eyes filled with a knowing shine. She turned back to you and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “I’ll see you later, love. Don’t work too hard!”

“I won’t. Love you!” You waved at her as she walked out and descended down the mountain. When she had disappeared from your sight, you turned to Bucky with a sheepish smile. “My mother,” you murmured as an explanation. “Come on in.”

He obeyed, glancing back over his shoulder occasionally. “She seems lovely.”

“Oh, she is. She would’ve stayed to talk to you for a bit, but she has work to get to.”

“She works?”

You nodded as you led Bucky towards the living room. In the distance, you could hear spirit servants bustling about in the dining room and cleaning up the mess from brunch. “In the Mortal World, she is a labor and delivery nurse. Has been for—oh—fifteen hundred years, give or take a century or so.” You shrugged. “She started as soon as she knew my sisters and I were capable of ruling on our own and she wasn’t needed anymore. She wanted to be helpful and so she decided to put her talents to use and help deliver mortal babies. She has shifts all this week and had to get back to start them.” You turned around and fell backward onto the plush couch in the middle of the living room. 

Bucky wasted no time in sitting right beside you. “Sounds like fun,” he said turning so he faced you straight on.

“She likes it.” You draped your arm over the side of the couch and pulled your legs up so you sat cross-legged. “Now, to the matter at hand: what did you bring me?” You beamed at him like a child promised a treat which, in a way, you were.

Bucky shook with silent laughter as he shuffled the small box in his hands. “Oh, nothing big.” He held it out to you. “I know you said to not make a big deal out of it or anything, but I figured that since we’re coming up on five months of being together and a year of you dealing with me, I’d do what the mortals do and get you a gift.” When he saw your mouth opening to protest, he held up a hand. “Before you jump on me about it, just know that it’s not an anniversary gift considering it’s not our anniversary yet. It’s more of a, you know, ‘thanks for putting up with me for all this time and for loving me like I love you’ sort of gift.”

You took it from him and bit your lip to hide your smile. “You really didn’t have to get me anything, Buck. Just being with you is gift enough.” 

He only smiled. “Just open it.”

“Okay.” You turned your attention down to the box and pulled off the lid. You turned the box over in your hand and a single object fell into your palm.

A small five-by-seven canvas sat in your hand and two familiar faces smiled up at you: Bucky’s and your own. If you weren’t able to see the individual brush strokes on the canvas, you would’ve sworn that somehow your photograph was taken without you knowing. The image was realistic as could be, capturing even the small, hardly noticeable scars on your skin. In it, you and Bucky were sitting together, his arm wrapped around your waist and your head resting on his shoulder as you smiled at the “camera.” While your eyes were trained ahead, Bucky’s eyes were glancing at you. Somehow the artist had managed to capture the lovesick glint in his blue orbs and the blatant relaxation in your posture. It was incredible.

Your mouth fell agape. “Oh my gods…”

“Steve painted it,” Bucky mused, reaching over and pointing at your faces. “He’s an aspiring artist and when I asked him to paint something for you, he said that I was insane but did it anyway.”

You chuckled. “You are insane. This is amazing! But how did he get a reference for it? You don’t have any pictures of me.”

“Well that’s exactly why I had him paint this. We don't have any pictures of us and I wanted you to be able to have something to remember me by; just in case you get so busy that you can’t be pulled away from work. He did it by memory and I helped him on the details that were a little fuzzy.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “You really are one of a kind, Doll.”

“Well so are you.” You took the canvas and set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I love it, Buck. I can’t decide if I should put it in my office or in my bedroom.” You hummed. “Maybe the bedroom. That way the first thing I see in the morning is us.”

He laughed. “Aw, Doll, you’re making me feel special.”

“Well, you are special to me. You have been since the day you stole my heart.” You leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. It was too short for your liking, but it was nice enough. A soft sigh rattled out of your lungs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at you. “How’ve you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. Everything still going alright?”

“Oh, as alright as they can, I suppose.” You tightened your arms around him. “I’m just… I’m nervous, you know? The cage is almost back to normal, but he was… He was quiet today. My father is never quiet. He talks more than anybody I know and today he was just dead silent. It was unnerving and it scares me.”

“Hey,” he said softly. His hands were on your waist and he pulled you onto his lap so he could hold you better. “Hey,” he said again, “there’s nothing to be scared of. I promise. He’s locked up tight, he’s not getting out. You said so yourself that the cage is almost back to one hundred percent, there’s no way he could get out.”

“But he weakened it before, he can do it again. And, Buck, I just don’t know what I’m going to keep doing if he can do this. I don’t know how he did it. I don’t know who helped him. I don’t know if it’ll happen again, and I…” Your heart was racing and your chest was rising and falling with labored and anxious breaths.

“Shh,” he mumbled as he pulled you in so you were flush against him. One arm stayed wrapped around your torso while the other came up to hold your head. His hand spread out over your cheek, keeping your head tucked under his chin. “It’s going to be okay. You won’t be alone throughout any of it. So, even if he does manage to weaken the cage again, you’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere. M’kay?”

“Okay.” It made your heart happy to know he would be there, but you had to wonder. “How long?” you asked, your voice just barely above a whisper.

“How long what?” He was understandably confused, but he didn't move to look at you.

“How long will I have you?” You had to know what he was thinking, how long he was planning on staying, how long until he decided to leave.

He didn’t respond right away, undoubtedly pondering the question himself, but it wasn’t long before he was talking. “You will have me as long as the stars still burn in the sky. You will have me as long as man roams the Mortal World. You will have me as long as Olympus stands. You will have me as long as we both shall live. I don’t plan on going anywhere any time soon. I just got you and I’m never letting go.”

You didn’t try to fight the smile as it came to you. “Never?”

“Never ever.”

You hummed and nestled into him. “I like the idea of that. It makes me excited for the future.” 

“The future?” He began to run his fingers through your hair. “What do you want in the future?”

“I want you, I know that for sure.” There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted Bucky to be with you. He made you feel loved in a way you’d never been loved before, cherished in a way you didn’t know was possible, and cared for in every sense of the word. You didn’t know the specifics of what you wanted, but you knew that, now that you had him, you couldn’t imagine your life without Bucky. You may not have known him for a long time, but he was already an important staple in your life. 

Everything just felt right with him, and you found yourself starting to believe that the Fates really had made him for you. There was no other explanation for how fast you’d grown to trust him and had fallen for him. Normal people wouldn’t go down so easy, but you went willingly. You’d never really believed in the idea of soulmates created by the Fates, but now that you’d found yours, you understood what it meant to find your perfect match. While life could still be lived without him, you didn’t want it to be. You never wanted to let him go.

Bucky hummed and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Anything else?” he asked with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Well, obviously,” you said with a gentle scoff. “I just don’t know what else I want. But, so long as I have you, I think I’ll be happy.”

“I’ll be happy too, so long as I have you, Doll. You make me happy.”

You hummed and leaned in for another kiss, but a crack, louder than anything you had ever heard before, destroyed the silence around you. It split the air, sending a shock through your system. The tremors followed after, shaking the house violently and causing objects to clatter down from surfaces. 

You scrambled off of Bucky and gripped the arm of the couch tightly. Your stomach dropped and your eyes darted to the windows. What was powerful enough to shake a mountain? When the ground steadied again, you shot to your feet and rushed to the window, looking out over your realm desperately. You didn’t know what was happening and it frightened you. You were used to being in control and in the know, but now you were blind. 

Two more cracks sounded from above, but they were familiar. The ceiling of the Underworld opened up and two figures dropped down: one blonde and one redhead, your sisters. You could see them moving quickly across the Asphodel Meadows and you moved to the door to intercept them, Bucky following closely. They were mounting the top steps when you threw open the front door. 

Carol’s eyes were wide with panic. “We felt tremors on Olympus. What’s going on?” 

You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by the whooshing of wings. 

Alexander Pierce fell at your feet onto his knees. He kept his head bowed as you, your sisters, and Bucky surrounded him, all your eyes filled with worry. “My queen,” he said addressing you. “I came straight from the Mortal World when I felt the tremors. Th-There’s been a breach in Tartarus.”

Immediately your head snapped towards the cave and your stomach plummeted once more. What you were looking at wasn’t so much a cave anymore. It was a gaping hole in the side of the Underworld.

Next 15: It’s Way Worse Than She Thought

[blue---rose]

White Widow - Chapter Six

Fanfiction.net | AO3

Title: White Widow Chapter: Six Author: Blue Rose

Huge shout out to my new beta - CherryBerry12. Thank you :) 💖

“Jesus, what did you eat today? Where did it all come from?!”

If Sakura could, she would have pinched her nose closed, but she needed both hands for the task of bagging up the dog poop while keeping the leash out of it. She didn’t understand why dogs never watched where they were going and tried to keep Akumaru from stepping in his droppings before she could clean up.

Finishing, she tossed the mess in a waste bin they passed before crossing the street.

“That crap was almost as big as your head.” Sakura laughed.

The pair had just come from a small park at the end of the block and were now heading to their intended destination. On the surface, it was just a smart thing to do — letting the dog relieve himself before they needed to go inside. In reality, it was her just procrastinating. And she used every second of it.

However, the growing puppy didn't care much about taking a stroll today. Especially when they approached the towering highrise. This was his other home, and his panting and excitement signaled he knew exactly where they were.

"Ok! Ok! We're going."

Approaching the entrance, Sakura was careful to watch her step while she admired the way the evening sun reflected off the smoked glass and steel. There was a dark, eerie beauty she found in the looming structure before them.

 The last time she'd been here, a thin layer of snow had covered all of the asphalt. Frigid temperatures caused the flurries to stick to the ground like falling powder — perfect for making snow angels.

 She remembered that the exterior had been decorated with strings of twinkling blue lights as well with poinsettias arranged beneath the windows in a festive holiday display.

 Thank goodness the weather was not below freezing as it was prior, months ago. Though, that didn't stop a wave of nerves from washing over her, wondering again how she managed to get herself into another weird situation.

 Oh, yeah... that's right.

 It started with a favor.

 It always started with a favor.

 Because she had a difficult time saying no and was consistently willing to lend a hand to anyone in need.

 Which is why she was opening the glass doors to walk through the vestibule, speaking to the concierge in the lobby to give her name.

 Well, it was much too late to change her mind and Sakura sighed, releasing Akamaru from her arms after the elevator doors closed. Making a steady ascent to the top floor, she mulled over the reasons she was there in the first place.

 Sasuke had asked if she could return the dog to Kiba's family.

 He'd never met any of them, and correctly presumed she would know how to reach someone. It wasn’t much of a stretch. She and Kiba had been friends since freshman year in high-school.

 Sakura conceded to do his bidding, but followed up with some questions of her own — like, why was he watching over the dog to begin with?

 Despite being guarded, Sasuke answered all of her questions. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling things were being left unsaid.

 What quickly followed however, were thoughts of the canine’s owner. And soon she felt the dormant bud of concern blooming within her, once again.

   Kiba .

  Gently nudging away the worry she'd felt, Sakura went along with it. Especially after Sasuke revealed that it was against his lease to have a dog — up until now he'd been taking a risk.

 Feeling a little sorry that he’d been keeping him, she agreed to return the pup. Which is how she'd ended up here.

 The elevator came to a smooth stop at its designated floor, the thick doors sliding open. Akamaru pulled her down the hall, towards the other home he knew by scent and memory.

 Sakura only knew they were at the correct place because of the ' PH3 ' plaque beside the red door.

 Reaching out, she pulled down on the lever-like knob, entering once a voice beckoned her inside.

 "Hello?"

 She unhooked the leash from the studded collar just to watch the ball of fur run deeper into the suite, his tiny paws gaining traction against the mahogany planks of wood. Following seconds later, she rounded the corner to catch sight of a figure standing near an alcove.

 Sakura looked on as Akamaru whined near the person's feet, pawing at their immaculately pressed pants. He then proceeded to roll onto his back, completely exposing his belly.

 Sakura brought her eyes up to greet a woman whose tips of brown hair curled around her sharp jaw. Defined lips were painted a deep violet with a peremptory tone to match. Her voice was smooth and rich, whisking past her ears.

 "Sakura."

 Tsume Inuzuka stood as statuesque as royalty. Her commanding aura matched the intensity in her swirling, chocolate brown eyes. The attitude alone was worthy of any crown, but she was far too brutish for something as dainty as a tiara. Her brassknuckles nature had served her well in business...

 And, maybe in her personal life as well?

 The matriarch was already married to husband number three if she remembered correctly. Despite being rather intimidating, there was another side to her... a more gentle side. Something that was softer around the edges and reserved only for a select few.

 Sakura hoped she could tap into that side now. Maybe it would help, especially when a certain topic was brought up.

 "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

 Reaching down, the brunette picked up the squirming pooch to move him under her arm, briefly inspecting his form with a keen eye.

 "Hello, Mrs. Inuzuka...Er! I mean, ' Shimazu ' now... isn't it?" Sakura ran a hand across her neck, smiling to cover the wince she so desperately tried to hide.

 "Tsume is fine. Come here, let me get a good look at you. You've finally got some meat on those bones, I see."

 Almond-shaped nails dipped in black lifted the young girl's chin, fingers tilting her face and Sakura felt a blush warming her cheeks under the scrutiny.

 "Ah... yes, it has been a while. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

 The dark-haired woman moved to sit on a loveseat, reaching for her glass of wine.

 "Lucky it's not the weekend, or I would have been in California by now," she asserted, swirling the Merlot around in the wine glass.

 Sakura politely declined the offer to join her with a glass of her own. She did accept a seat, however, sitting across from the older woman as she continued.

 "I thought he would've lasted a lot longer before dumping his responsibilities on someone else. Speaking of which..."

 Tsume raised her eyes to meet Sakura's, the tips of her nails clicking against the glass before she pressed on.

 "You mentioned that you haven't heard from that son of mine. He's decided to stop responding to me too, which has been very irritating."

 The layered ends of Sakura's high ponytail swung across the top of her shoulders as she shook her head. Her bangs rested partially in her face but their eyes remained locked as she confirmed what she’d said earlier over the phone.

 "No, I have not."

 The hand that was twirling the glass stopped, digits gripping the stem while the ambrosia settled within.

 Shadows from the lowering sun tilted across the walls signaling the oncoming sunset. Quiet and sobering — as something stirred in the air and the mood changed. 

 Sakura sat immobile and tried not to fidget under the weight.

 The tension was broken when Tsume released a hum, cutting off eye contact to look down. Reaching over, she grabbed a piece of prosciutto arranged on a platter from the coffee table.

 Sakura slowly released the breath she had no idea she was holding until then. 

 Hesitating, she felt the need to tread lightly but knew it was necessary to shed some light on the situation. Be that as it may, it didn't look like she was going to be discovering anything new with the way things were going.

 "That's actually why I wanted to speak with you. He hasn't responded to my messages either. At first, I wasn't worried, because of... well-."

 Kiba's history of disappearing was left unspoken, but Tsume grunted in understanding, taking a long sip from her glass.

 His mother was instantly reminded of his past rebellious acts. Although there usually would be some sort of... warning that preceded any dark turn.

 Her remarrying or becoming bi-coastal were just a few examples. She could remember the fights and fallouts that followed. Especially regarding his choice of outlets.

 The reckless behavior, the unsavory habits, the disagreements... she remembered them all.

 But...

 Tsume thought they'd long moved past that. He seemed to finally settle down... as much as someone like him could. He'd been taking care of his apartment, had stayed out of jail-

  As far as she knew ...

 -and out of most forms of trouble for quite some time now. It was hard to recall the last time she'd received a phone call that ended with screams, threats, or sour disappointment. She'd hate to think he'd regressed.

 "Is there anyone he's been hanging around? A new group of friends, maybe? Other than Ino and yourself—"

 Tsume was in the dark to whom he was associating with these days. "...he rarely tells me anything and I can barely keep up with him."

 Sakura was not the type to be dishonest but she found herself in an uncomfortable position. Choosing her words carefully and hoping her deception wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass, she gave what she thought would be just enough.

 "No one I've talked to has seen or heard from him either. I'm sorry."

 She was here to get as much information as she could, without giving too much away.

 All because...

 Sasuke had also asked that she keep his name out of everything. As far as Kiba's folks were concerned, he didn't exist. And he'd like to keep it that way.

 He had his reasonings; he’d murmured some explanation and Sakura relented because it made sense at the time. Maybe not giving names was the safest route.

 But now that she was here, it was uncomfortable as hell, and her stomach felt like bats were fluttering away in it. The calm expression she presented on the surface, however, was flawless.

 Moments ticked, ticked, ticked away... before Tsume finally waved her fingers dismissively. She'd heard everything she needed to hear. Crossing one leg over the other, the perfect cuff in her pants rested against her heel.

 "No matter. Someone is already looking into it. If that boy thinks he can get away with ignoring me, he has another thing coming. I'm just wondering what foreign jail cell or backwater whore house I'll need to rescue him from this time ," she sneered, gulping down the last of her wine.

 Sakura adjusted slightly, not saying a word but giving her a small nod. But her fingers curled into fists hidden within her pockets, the rings she wore digging into her skin.

 It's not like she wanted him to be caught behind bars. Or needing to be dragged to a health clinic the next day, for thorough testing.

 It's just...

 At least he would be found, and all this fuss would have been all over nothing. But until that happened...

 Sakura gave Tsume a small smile, hoping to ease away any concern this conversation may have brought.

 Hidden away on the inside, she wished someone was there for her right now — who could return the favor. Someone who would gift her the same comfort she'd just offered Tsume to maybe put her mind at ease. Because even after speaking with his mother and listening to her confident answer...

 Sakura could not shake the feeling that just wouldn't go away.

 Something was amiss.

 But she hoped that she was off track... and just being paranoid. And that his mother was right.

 This was just one of those... 'Kiba times'.

 It's exactly what a large part of her was wishing for... and what she needed to believe.

    ✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

 He hated that damn bow.

 Sure... on its own, it was harmless.

 That was all an illusion, though. Being an inanimate object did not stop it from being a vexation.

 And just how could something so insignificant, be so... troublesome? After all, it was merely a decorative accessory, attached to a pair of heels. Looking so innocent, affixed to the leather band caging her slender ankle.

 But looks could be deceiving.

 It became problematic when his eyes traveled north. And for the life of him, Sasuke couldn't fathom how a few inches on a shoe could be so devastating. The manner in which they elongated her legs as his focus strayed upward. Following an invisible path along smooth, pale skin.

 Limbs that seemed to go on and on for days — filling out to thighs that were soon hidden from view beneath sparkle.

 The dress she wore did nothing but accentuate her curves; dips and valleys that filled out an enticing figure.

 Sakura's slender neck supported her head as it cocked to the side, smiling at whatever some teen girl in front of her said. And her green eyes crinkled in mirth as she let out a laugh, bringing the clear plastic cup to her lips for a drink.

 Speculating if she always smiled that brightly for everyone.

 Sasuke tore his gaze away, eyes landing on the DJ booth in the corner — the LED lights around the display throbbed to the beat of the track, playing across the speakers.

 Like hell he’d be caught staring.

 It wasn’t like they hadn’t just spent... what? The last two hours together? Getting everything ready for the party. He'd seen her then...

 Same outfit…

 Same smile…

  Same god damn heels.

 So what had changed? Could he not keep himself from finding her?

 His eyes constantly tracking her, flickering to trace her migration around the open space.

 Even when he caught himself it wasn't enough to stop the cycle from repeating. His eyes would be lowered, idly scanning the party, not focused on anything in particular.

 Then...

 A flash of sequins before his eyes would settle on that little black bow.

 Wasn't that the textbook definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?

 Sasuke's mind didn't pass along that bit of information to the rest of his body. Instead, his eyes would start the trek all over again, his avaricious gaze taking her in before cutting away.

 Seeking out a distraction, he leaned against the expansive window behind him.

 The tempered glass usually flooded the suite with natural light during the day. Now, it hummed against his back, miniature vibrations warbling along the surface from the tracks deep base.  And it felt cool against him as he sighed.

 Taking another swing of beer, Sasuke hoped the warm sensation he felt didn't spread to his face. But at least he could make it appear the fault of alcohol and not the salacious thoughts starting to run rampant in his mind.

 Like...

 If the rest of her was as soft as the skin on her inner wrist was. The pad of his thumb had brushed against it when he had passed something to her earlier. And watching now, at the exposed skin her dress didn’t cover...

 Damn him if it certainly didn't look the part. He would only need a few seconds to graze his hands across the perceived silkiness to know the answer.

 Lowering the amber bottle, he swallowed thickly, sighing after. A quick look at his watch had him quickly releasing another one, wondering again why he was still there. Glancing over his shoulder at the snow-covered streets below, a minute passed — before a prickling behind his ear caught his attention.

 He was being watched.

 Everything around them started to fade away when his eyes suddenly met hers. Twinkling stars locked onto his own, piercing through the smoky haze around them, her focus solely on him. And suddenly, Sasuke's mouth was no longer satisfied with the bitter taste of alcohol.

 No...

 He was craving something else entirely.

 And as he moved closer—

   .

  His vision completely went white. 

  .

 And like coming up for air after treading murky waters, he broke through the surface and was brought back to the present… somewhat painfully .

 Surely, the sound of flesh meeting leather must have been heard during the impact. But his brain only registered the sound after as it echoed in his mind.

 Then there was the ringing.

 Lots and lots of ringing.

 .

  Ka-KLUMP-PAK!

  whoooo-sh...

  THUD.

 .

 ...

 "........... -ke? "

 He could have sworn that the saying went: you were supposed to see stars.

 Not feel them.

 ' Oh shit that hurt .'

 "...... -uke ? Sasuke ?! Are you alright?"

 ' Fucking stars. '

 "Sasuke...?"

 And fuck him and his own negligence for not seeing that coming.

 The ringing in his left ear dimmed low enough that he was finally able to hear the question. Blinking back the few spots that danced behind his eyelids, Sasuke grunted, pushing away the hands waving in front of his face. When there were no longer four eyes blinking down at him, he rose to sit up.

 The boxing gloves that had been strapped to Itachi's hands were now lying between them, his profile relaxing though remaining in its hunched form.

 "You were supposed to dodge the second hook. I pulled back but it was too late." He fussed over him again, but Sasuke batted away the concern, sitting up fully when the ringing in his ear finally disappeared.

 He felt a trail of moisture slide down his temple but breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that it was only sweat. He still counted his blessings though, thankful it wasn't his brother's leg that flew at him instead. If it was, his head would have been knocked clean from his shoulders.

 Sasuke removed the padded mitts he wore, tearing at the velcro with his perfect white teeth — more embarrassed than hurt. His brother had dangerously quick hands, and he should have known better than to allow his mind to wander when they were in the middle of sparring.

 "Where were you?" the elder asked, mirroring his unspoken thoughts while moving away to grab them water from the kitchen.

  'So he's going to call me out after all...'

 Sasuke huffed, choosing to stay seated on the mat below the hanging punching bag. He slowly worked his jaw open and closed a few times, rotating the Temporomandibular Joint.

 Good... nothing was broken.

 "Nowhere." Sasuke deadpanned, feeling along the curve for swelling.

 Itachi raised a brow at him as he passed him the chilled bottle. Knowing where further questioning would lead to, he pivoted to another topic.

 "I see your temporary house guest is no longer here..."

 Taking a much-needed sip, Sasuke began to explain what had transpired. Of how he had gotten Sakura to facilitate Akamaru’s return, along with agreeing to a few terms.

 Terms that were presented more as a... suggestion, of course. Maybe gather a little information while she was there if she could?

 He took full advantage of her gentle disposition, to coax her a little. Anything to help seal the deal.

 And when it was all said and done, they parted ways with an agreement in place.

 Sasuke didn't realize the amount of silence that stretched between them until he looked up, catching his brother’s stare. Keen orbs continued to study him, inky depths watching...

 Causing his own brows to snap together.

 "What?"

 "........"

 The corner of his brother's mouth twitched, deep lines appearing across his face before smoothing again.

 " What? "

 Sasuke didn't want to repeat himself, but the silence had struck a nerve. It brought back memories of when they were younger and how he felt whenever he was overlooked, ignored, or even excluded from certain things.

 Being an adult now, he could understand why things were handled the way they were and he harbored no resentment. However, that didn't stop the feelings from returning every now and again and bringing him back to the times when he used to be shooed away.

 Itachi never bothered to take the time to explain anything, because Sasuke was too young at the time. No one around had felt the need to, back then.

 And then there were the other occurrences, where he'd be left with nothing more than a whisper of— "Next time, Sasuke."

 As fleeting as it came, the memories all disappeared when Itachi finally caved.

 Learning lessons from the past, Itachi saw no reason to get Sasuke unnecessarily riled up.

 "Nothing."

 It would have been convincing, too... if they hadn't known each other so well.

 Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Sasuke leaned back on his elbows, his damp shirt stretching across his torso. He dragged his water bottle with him as a fresh breeze stirred across the loft from an open window.

 "Just spit it out already. You can either say it now and get it over with. Or later..." His nose twisted as if he was going to sneeze.

 "...no doubt in some cryptic way. Do us both a favor and spare me the hassle," Sasuke ended boldly, taking another swig and draining the bottle below the halfway mark.

 It took some time, but pointing out the obvious had its desired effect and Itachi finally asked what had been on his mind.

 What came was an inquiry about the woman — whose name, he'd noticed; was always spoken with a certain... tone . 

 Was there something going on that he should know about?

 And since Itachi had avoided using a condescending tone when asking the question, the prodding managed to disarm him.

 "Nothing..." Sasuke answered; slate-colored eyes drifting as his brother moved to sit near him. Breaking eye contact, a few of his fingers pressed into the padded mat underneath them.

 "... at least, not yet?"

 He always did find it difficult to keep things from his brother.

 Itachi could have easily sprained his wrist while sitting; his weight careening with a jolt at the quiet admission. He recovered well enough, sitting down fully and eyeing his younger brother with veiled surprise.

 And for a while, the only sound in the room came from the jingling chains holding up the punching bag, as it drifted in small circles near them.

 Sasuke finally gathered the courage to glance up, but his brother's eyes were peering outside, deep in thought.

 The sunlight kissed Itachi's low ponytail, gathered across one shoulder and his umber touched gaze looked far away.

 The question surprised him when his lips suddenly moved.

 "You like this girl, Sasuke?"

 He wasn't sure why, but he flinched.

 What was he supposed to say, Sasuke thought as his teeth pinched the inside of his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue could almost feel the impression left by Sakura's teeth from their last kiss. The ghost of the intimate touch came to mind at the most inopportune time.

 Did they really have to get into this when he still couldn't find the right words to describe what was happening between him and Sakura? It was all just one big ball of complication as far as Sasuke was concerned.

 An intricate web, twisting with many threads of complexity...

 With the label of 'friends ,' not quite fitting...

 And it was far too soon to be thinking about ‘love’ ...

 But 'just fucking' was too crude, and there was an interest there beyond the physical — as nice as that was.

 A string of fate that seemed to constantly pluck at his attention whenever she was near, while driving him to distraction when she wasn't.

 And it was comical and annoying at the same damn time. And, well...

  Ah fuck , he'd asked for this, didn't he? Him and his big mouth.

 "I-..." Sasuke hesitated, blinking in contemplation before trying again. "What I mean is-"

 Long fingers wrapped in protective white tape lifted. Two digits extended to brush against Sasuke's forehead, effectively cutting him off.

 "I just want you to be mindful." A sharp gaze fixated onto his own, and even though he took a breath to respond — his brother's gentle smile gave him pause.

 "I also want you to be happy," he continued, lips curving into a knowing grin. 

 Rising from the mat with a stretch, Itachi made his way down the hall towards the bathroom, leaving his younger sibling alone with his thoughts. He also ignored the small frown zeroing in on his retreating back.

 Sasuke slowly shook his head, following the figure of his brother until he disappeared around the corner.

 Whatever surprise that lingered was quickly overshadowed with something else as he gulped down another drink of water.

 An unexpected flare of delight engulfed him as he slowly returned his brother's grin...

 And there was only the empty room left to witness the handsome sight of Sasuke's dimple — a rare, but genuine smile pursing his lips at the unclouded approval he'd just received.

 ✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

 "Is that the last of it? What about that other set in the back?" one mover asked the other as they stood near the rear of the box truck.

 "The dresser with the mirror? Nah, that's going to a couple in Bethesda. That's our next stop. Here, take this when you go up and drop that off. She already tipped us... just get them to sign," the driver told him, closing the rolling door when he jumped down from the back of the vehicle.

 The clipboard was placed on top of the sealed, brown box the taller mover was already carrying in his arms.

 Making sure it was perfectly balanced in his hands, he turned to go up the freight elevator... making one last and final trip.

 The front doors to the newly leased space were still propped open, and he placed the box down, just inside the sizable foyer.

 "This is the last one," he called out, his russet eyes scanning the invoice, looking for the client’s name. "We just need an autograph from Ms.-... ah-."

 "I'll do it!"

 There was a conscious effort not to look down at the exposed legs of the young blonde as she came bounding towards him, hips swaying in a pair of forest green cotton shorts.

 He also did his best not to stare at the: 'I love cock' written in graffiti font on her shirt — and the word 'tails' stamped right below it in smaller print. 

 Though slightly crude, the tongue-in-cheek message had made him chuckle most of the afternoon while he was working.

 Ino smiled brightly, nibbling on the capped pen while her eyes took their time to locate the signature line.

 Tugging on the brim of his hat, the helper began to calculate his chance of success in scoring her number. And in turn go completely against company policy.

 His opportunity to risk it all was interrupted when the owner of the suite appeared from around a corner.

 Sakura shooed the golden femme away, signing the papers instead. She thrust the paperwork back in his hands after thanking him.

 Mouthing a quick 'sorry,' Sakura apologized for the actions of her all-too-flirtatious friend.

 The company had done an amazing job and had earned the positive review she'd leave.

 Ino twirled away to retrieve a stash — hidden earlier on the built-in shelf, snagging a lighter as well. Turning, she climbed over the back of the sofa.

 The hand holding the bright red plastic waved in their general direction.

 "We really can't thank you enough. Did you guys have to train to be so amazing?" Ino climbed down with a purr and a wink, still flirting as she settled on the floor.

 Sakura let out a nervous giggle, ushering the smitten guy out the front doors.

 "Is there anyone who is spared from your relentless-... philandering ?" She huffed, unlatching the mechanism holding both doors open, closing them tightly.

 Really, her friend could be so embarrassing sometimes.

 "What can I say? I love a man in uniform. Besides, I left them alone for most of the afternoon… you should be thanking me." Ino twisted the grinder in her hands, her spine resting against the front of the large sectional.

 Sakura slowly came over to stretch out behind her, laying down on her stomach. Sinking into the cushions, she felt the tension slowly release from her overworked muscles.

 Despite any possible... sexual harassment lawsuits, she was glad her bestie was there lending a helping hand. Moving was always a grueling task, so any help was appreciated. She'd even done some manual labor when she helped Sakura paint a room back at her old apartment.

 Leaving the place in immaculate condition scored her most of the security deposit back. Her comrade teased that it was unfair and that the only reason she did was that the place was barely lived in.

  "I'm just glad it's all done." Sakura mumbled from her sprawled position, her sweat pants resting dangerously low on her hips. They were already rolled down twice at the waist, and now a bit of blue cotton peeked from underneath.

 Ino paused, oceanic eyes spanning the layout. One eyebrow pinched inward after taking in the bare dwelling.

 "I wouldn't exactly call this... 'done,' Forehead. You have your bed and this monstrous couch. Other than that, you really need to get this place decorated."

  'Let the nit-picking begin.'

 "Yeah, yeah..." Sakura mumbled around a throw pillow, her face still buried in softness. "I'll order a bunch of stuff later."

 There were three different flavors of frozen yogurt chilling in the freezer. And her books and medical journals were unpacked and stored away. As far as she was concerned, everything else could wait.

 Ino wasn't convinced but instead concentrated on rolling the canappa before her, grunting at the stickiness.

 They still had to officially 'bless the house,' after all.

 Sakura turned towards her, raising a hand to cradle her head, cheeks still pink from burrowing into the pillow. It was only when she was spaced out that a particular thought drifted back to the forefront of her mind.

 And with all the bustle from today, there hadn't been a quiet moment up until now, to bring it up.

 "Did that guy ever call back again?"

 As it turned out, Tsume wasn't kidding when she said someone was looking into Kiba's disappearance.

 A private investigator reached out to her, asking a series of questions. Sakura told him exactly what she'd already shared, her story and timelines never changing. Not that there was much to tell.

 Afterward, she'd given her best friend a heads up, instincts warning that she'd be next.

 Much later he did get ahold of Ino, though, she had very little to say. Her answers were similar to Sakura's, as they'd both lost contact with Kiba around the same time.

 And she made it clear that she didn't know anything beyond that.

 Licking her lips, Ino brought a knee up to her chest, her sock covered foot dragging across the throw rug while she remained mindful of the low table in front of her.

 "After the first time? No."

 She then extended her tongue to wet the ends of paper as she expertly rolled the joint. Humming in affirmation, she eyed her handy work.

 "He was a pushy bastard though. When you talked to him, did you tell him anything? Maybe let something slip you shouldn't have?"

 Sakura sat up in surprise.

 "What? No..." She shook her head although the blonde was still facing forward, away from her.

 An eerie feeling ricocheted in her tummy.

 "D-... did you?"

 Ino snorted, flicking bits of grass from her nail bed. "I should have," she murmured.

 "Ino!"

 She was just being a bitch, but it's what she did when she felt annoyed... agitated .

 "To be honest, I'm not getting a good feeling about any of it. Not to mention... a P.I. coming around? Asking questions? This is getting to be a bit much."

 What's next?

 The police?

 It was not a good look to have a bunch of authorities hanging about, despite the reason for their presence.

 "I know..." Sakura began, the cushions shifting under her movements.  "I don't like any of this either... but even Sasuke-"

 The blonde spun around so fast she feared whiplash. Sparks of contention lit the glare Ino threw her way.

 "We don't know him, Sakura!"

 When she yelled, it surprised them both, their eyes wide and staring. It hadn’t been on purpose. Of course it hadn’t been, and Ino couldn't remember the last time she'd been so quick to snap.

 So, after taking a much-needed breath, the apology floated in the air between them.

 But not for what she said .

 No...

 She'd meant that.

 But… for the way she said it? Maybe she was a bit too harsh. She regretted it the moment it left her lips, so she made another attempt to apologize, keeping her voice even and much calmer.

 "We don't know him. Now, I'm not saying he's a bad guy or anything, but he's Kiba's friend..." Ino stressed, "not ours . I think he's cool and all, but we need to think with our heads here, and not with..."

 Her eyes lowered to Sakura's lap, hearing the sharp intake of breath when the seated girl immediately stiffened with indignation.

 "I'm not!" Sakura tried to defend herself. And if her leg wasn't twisted beneath her body she would have snapped her legs shut.

  'Guilty, much?'

 "Then we need to think smart. I don’t know about you, but I can't be seen mixed up with anything shady. Having some private eye sniffing around is a no-go for me."

 Ino turned back to the low table in front of her, her thumb rolling over the spark wheel twice, before the lighter flickered to life.

 Sakura sighed, shoulders dropping as she just let it go. She looked instead to the beautiful vase of flowers sitting close by.

 The arrangement of orange roses, honeysuckle — and a few other things she couldn't name were sorted together.

 It was a beautiful house warming gift from Ino, and she appreciated the floral scent as it drifted through the air. But she knew even its sweet smell wouldn't stand a chance against the thick haze that was sure to come.

 Sakura rolled to her feet, moving around her friend to approach the veranda door to crack it open. Nudging it slightly, she felt the crisp breeze charming its way past the small opening and into the room.

 Ino continued her musings on an exhale, swirls of grey, blueish smoke wafting towards the darkened recessed lighting above.

 "Sasuke was right about one thing, though..."

 She stood up, approaching her friend from behind and passing along the lit herb. "We should stay out of it. Besides, someone is looking for him... his family has it covered."

 Darting off to find an ashtray, she left the pink-haired woman to lean against the glass with her private thoughts, gazing at the skyline beyond the metal railings of her patio.

 Taking a long drag, Sakura hoped the calming effects would kick in soon and burn away her lingering restlessness.

 Everyone, it seemed, was just shying the Kiba issue away or even brushing it all aside. And it made her feel so damn torn inside.

 Reaching around, she patted herself down, feeling around for her phone.

 Oh, she knew what was going to happen... but she went for it anyway.

 There wasn't a choice, was there? Besides, she was nothing if not steadfast.

 And while fully aware of what was going to happen once she pressed 'SEND', Sakura didn't hesitate. 

 Her rather nimble fingers typed away, making another attempt to at least... try to do something.

 .

  Message:

   Just let me know you're ok...

  Please?

 .

 Sakura's hand reached up to remove the joint from her lips, holding her breath with a deep inhale as she re-read the note again.

 Sending out the text, she slowly blew out a trail of smoke.

 A familiar notification sound cackled in the air as the last cloud left her peach-stained lips. And her eyes caught sight of what showed up on the screen.

 The message was undeliverable.

 Just like the previous dozen she'd sent before that.

 Some of the messages she sent were laced with concern, others spewing threats of sterilization. She quickly discovered that anything sent out was shortly returned after bouncing through mobile data and Wifi signals.

 All of her messages went unanswered.

 But whatever disappointment or irritation she felt was quickly tempered down as conflict echoed in her mind.

   "'...-e.'"

  Because wasn't this the same thing she'd done in the past? Completely ghosting everyone close to her?

 Absconding without a care in the world, regardless of who it might hurt, or what it could affect?

 Sakura had exhibited the same pattern of behavior herself a while ago. And at her worst, she had gone days without responding, keeping her distance.

   "'...-ite.'"

  The memories surfaced like the smoke drifting past her face as she took another hit, contemplating just how much it sucked... being on the other side now.

   "'...-rite.'"

  Ino returned, handing Sakura the found ashtray while quickly plucking the weed from her aloof grip. Humming a tune, she went over to go see about playing some music.

 But Sakura stayed put, unable to shake the word that haunted her mind.

 One that felt weighted like the heavy crystal she held in her grasp. Looking down, she caught the way a few rainbows appeared with every deviation of the ashtray, and every time a flash of color reflected she imagined a voice whispering in cool, mocking tones inside of her head.

"'...-crite.'"

Taunting all the emotions echoing through her, even as she accepted the bitter truth in the word, repeating over and over again...

    "'Hypocrite.'"

  ✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

 " The sky is clear and you can see for miles across the grasslands. But as easy as she could look beyond the Serengeti, she could just as easily be spotted.

  Shoulders hunched low, the lioness hugs her body close to the ground. Blending in among the straw-colored grass... she inches her way closer. She must eliminate as much distance between her and the intended prey before launching her attack. Her sisters are in tune with her, circling the herd on either side, bellies low to the ground as they stalk closer.

  The pack has not eaten for days, and this may be their last chance before the grazing animals migrate north and out of their territory. There are plenty of mouths to feed back at the den and a few hungry cubs who will not survive the rest of the season without a steady supply of food."

 The prone figure nibbled on the last of his fish cake sandwich, his heavy boots hanging off the edge of the loveseat. His large frame laid sideways on the furniture, leaning against the armrest as he watched the clip on his screen.

 He always was a fan of a good old-fashioned hunt. There were just some things in life, that only Mother Nature could do with such... finesse .

 You could learn a lot if you sat back and watched her work.

  "The wildebeests were on alert, taking turns to raise their heads to keep on the lookout."

 He listened to the thick, South African accent as it narrated the encounter playing on the phone. The screen zoomed in as long blades of grass hung from the wildebeests’ chewing mouths while they kept an eye on the young calves. Soon, the camera panned out to show how close the hunters had gotten.

  "It is far too late to be overly cautious now. The lioness and her sisters were in striking range and had only to pick their target.

  Digging their long claws into the heated dirt below, they sprint across the plain. 

  The chase was on..."

 His phone suddenly chirped, and a notification for a new message appeared at the top.

 The man’s narrowing squint flickered up but quickly went back to the action.

 The screen flashed to the pounding of hooves kicking up clouds of dry dirt. And he focused, excited to watch what happened next.

  "The ground vibrates as the herd stampede away, now catching sight of the fawn and black death machines barreling towards them. The chaos is enough for one to lose its footing, one back leg twisting beneath its lumbering body."

 The front hooves clambered against the ground while the frightened animal tried to gain leverage, but it was too late.

  "The seasoned lioness is there in a blink, ready to capitalize on the last mistake the prey would ever make in its life."

 Slow-motion captured the way the lioness’s claws hooked into the large antelope, trying to gain purchase as her jaws opened wide across the prey’s neck.

 The beast finally got to all four hooves just in time to feel the weight of another lioness as she bit at its spine, her body hanging from its rear.

 Losing strength and blood, the scared animal let out a long moan as the lions worked together to bring it down. A third lioness bit at its heels and soon the pressure was enough. A billow of dirt rose in the air as all of their combined weight crashed to the dusty, hot earth below.

 The narrator's voice decreased in volume once again, as another message notification came through — the rhythmic beeping much louder than the nature video, still playing on the screen in full-screen mode.

 Sighing, the man sat up straighter, swinging his legs to the floor to check.

   Message:

  Any updates?

  Message:

  Or has this been a waste of time?

   'Damn.'

 And the documentary special was starting to get to the good parts too. Locking the screen, he stood tall in a stretch, straightening the henley shirt he wore and trudged to the adjoining room.

 The small apartment was oftentimes used as a temporary working space. Although rarely used for the more... messy parts of their job, it was quite convenient for quick meetups. And with the newest development, it made for a well suited temporary office.

 Located just behind a deli, but with a hidden entrance and secured parking, it had only made the best sense to set up shop here, for now.

 The next room was much darker with the blinds drawn the way they were, but multiple computer monitors glared with artificial light as the man came to stand behind the seated teen. A pretty penny had gone into the elaborate setup — more than a few parts couldn’t be bought in just any store.

 There were a few programs open that he was familiar with while scanning the screens, but most he was not.

 And as intelligent as the man thought himself to be, he would never presume to understand what any of the letter and number combinations meant, trailing across the monitor on the left.

 "Looks like you are up and running. What's the status?"

 "I think I've found a way in," Chef replied, his eyes never leaving the screens as he typed away. His favorite song had just begun to play in his ear, and he was seconds away from turning it up before the guy showed up behind him.

 " Think ?" The man's arms folded and his lips melted into a frown.

 "Yeah. What? I can't go back and get in the same way I did before, my dude. They've already patched that shit. I also don't want to set off any alarms. Gotta be sneaky," Chef offered in a huff.

 Besides, he'd already tried the old route and got locked out. But when inside before, he had discovered some other cracks — and hoped to take advantage of one of them now.

 "But you can do it?"

 "Yeah. I can do it."

 The teen went back to work when he felt the figure move away, turning up the volume to catch the tail end of his song. This was exactly why he never took up private offers before. But... the money should be worth having to deal with someone breathing down his neck, in the end.

 The man turned away, sheathing the hidden knife back into its pouch in silence, leaving the room just as quietly as he entered. Hopefully, the teens’ confidence would produce some good results... and soon.

 A real shame too, that he didn't know...

  His very life depended on it.

   ✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

  He was counting stacks of collected funds in his living room when one of his phones went off.

 With their associate still missing, Itachi gave Sasuke the task of fulfilling a few orders and handling some assignments. He'd been on the run for the last few days, completing  transactions that were left to be done in Kiba's absence. Just because he was missing didn't mean the business stopped and even grunt work needed to be seen to.

 He'd used the opportunity to do a little digging on said person's disappearance, but not finding satisfactory answers left him feeling a little perturbed.

 He had been in a sour mood as of late and could think of nothing that might turn things around.

 So seeing her initials flash across his chirping phone's screen was bittersweet — he couldn’t tell whether Sakura calling him at this very moment was a good thing or not.

 There hadn't been a chance for him to reach out to her. Though, no matter how busy he was, he knew he should have found the time.

 And maybe a part of him was feeling guilty for only texting a few things in the last few days...

 But she had his number too, damnit. He had made sure of it when he physically saved it on her phone the last time they were together.

 It was a personal number that not too many people had access to, at that.

 She could have easily called sooner too, but that was neither here nor there.

 Maybe her voice would be the ray of sunshine needed in the otherwise shithole-pit-of-darkness his mood had been sinking into.

 "Hello?"

 Sasuke's voice was unhurried and a little scratchy — coming out husky after not being used for the last two hours since he'd gotten home and showered. He thought he might be coming down with something and made a mental note to drink some hot tea later.

 In the future, Sakura will share with him just how much his voice alone could make her feel sometimes — even when heard over the phone. No way she could tell him that right now, though. There was too much power in that bit of information and she resisted the urge to clear her own throat, hoping the whimsical flutters would go away soon.

 " Sasuke... "

 Maybe one day — around the same time, Sasuke would finally admit how fond he was of hearing her say his name, regardless of its nature or the mood.

 Nonetheless, an eyebrow hitched as he wrapped a thick wad of bills with a beige rubber band.

 "What? Did you misdial or something...?"

 If the answer was yes he wasn't sure he could handle it — not with how this week was going.

 But she said no, and he could just see the smile on her face when she released a small laugh.  He imagined the soft, cupids bow he could still remember the feel of... if he tried.

 Maybe it was a good thing she called, after all. Even after a bit of chatter, he could already feel some of the day's tension releasing from his moody form.

 " Actually, the reason I'm calling was... "

   Why haven't you called?

  Why haven't you taken me out on a proper date yet?

 Already he could hear that — and the other half-dozen questions, all in his mind before she finished.

 He could almost feel his answers forming, and hoped they wouldn't sound like excuses when he said them out loud. Because... damnit, he'd been meaning to see a bit more of her. But with everything going on-

 " -I... well, actually, Kankurō wanted to know if you were coming to his birthday party? He said you already received his invitation. And his order, which — by the way, I won't even ask what's on that list ."

 She trailed off but picked back up with a giggle. 

 " Anyway, he wanted to make sure you didn't forget, and were going to be there. "

   Wait.

    What?

  Having the question ring inside of his mind was not enough, and his mouth opened to express the dumbfounded stutter his brain felt.

 "What?"

 She'd called him only... for that ?

 It's all anyone was talking about, she said; oblivious with his disappointment. Sasuke listened as his hands slowed down to a full stop, trying to keep the frown at bay.

 After the last few — irritating days he's had...

 That's the reason they were finally speaking?

  Kankurō ?

 Maybe talking when he was in low spirits wasn't the best idea after all. Something in his clipped tone must have given him away because after a bit of silence she hesitantly asked.

 " Is everything ok? You sound a bit... distracted? "

 "Yes."

  'No.'

 Bloody hell, that's not what he'd meant. No... it is what he meant, but he didn't mean to say it like that-

 "Just finishing up something."

 " Oh ..."

  'Fuck.'

 Things were quickly spinning out of control and he needed to figure out a way to salvage it.

 Or just end it... before he said something completely Sasuke like, and ruined it for everybody. 

  "Oh... well, it sounds like this is a bad time. I'm sorry-"

 "Don't be-"

  ' Gentle ... you idiot, nicer!? ' 

 "-I mean, it's fine." Sasuke continued after the slight pause.

 Ok, so that wasn't much better and he winced when a rubber band popped, stinging his hand before reaching for another one.

 Sakura waited a beat but wasn't convinced. " Ok... well, I guess I'll see you there? Sorry to disturb you."

 Sasuke fumbled with the phone for a second yet wasn't quick enough to stop her from ending the call, and he sat there after feeling like he just dropped the ball in a major way.

 He groaned, dropping everything in his hands and grabbing at his locks while sinking further into the sofa. It was no use trying to text her back because even he knew when to cut his losses.

 At least no one was there to witness the embarrassment... but he could hear the guffaw his cousin Shisui would have released if he could see him now.

  'Real smooth, Uchiha... real smooth.'

  End Chapter

✧ ･ﾟ * : * ﾟ･ ✧

[mrs-denton]

Sappy Paul Denton x OC Fanfic [Part 2]

The Start of the Collapse

After Paul’s departure, Bebe’s eyes struggled to shut. She laid in bed and kept glancing over at her phone occasionally, half-expecting something from Paul to come up. When she realized worrying was futile, she put the phone down and laid it down on its charging pad. She was worried, but she tried equilibrating those thoughts with reasonable positive ones because she was pregnant. She had to avoid as much stress as possible.

Staying up to write, as she did on sleepless nights like these, she scribbled her thoughts into her diary until she crashed. In the morning when she awoke, the unwelcome feeling of first trimester morning sickness sharply seized her from her slumber. She went to the bathroom to alleviate herself from the nausea.

Treating patients at the hospital she worked at, including those with the Grey Death, was dreary. Their spirits were broken and some of them got desperate. She wished she could divulge the truth behind the virus, or at least what she knew, but it would likely get her fired. She made sure to wear the most protective gear—respirator, face shield, gloves, a gown, and foot covers. Her health was going to have to become her top priority if she wanted a healthy baby.

Hours ebbed and flowed with moments of hectic excitement during rushes of patients and emergencies, but inched like slugs when things were slow and she caught herself worrying about Paul. She wondered what time it was in Hong Kong—surely, at least half a day ahead—and if he was alive. She thought about JC as well and didn’t want any harm to come to the Dentons, namely because JC was a cool person, but especially because she knew Paul would be devastated if his younger brother should fall. She scrubbed the pressing thoughts away from the walls of her mind—months of meditation had helped—and she continued to show up at work.

She checked her work emails to see if by some crazy chance, Paul had been daring enough to send her a message there. But of course not—he would never do something to endanger them, especially with the Aquinas net. After what felt like a 12-hour shift, Bebe returned home with takeout and quickly checked her computer. There, an email from Paul—or rather, his alias—was sent hours ago while she was still at work.

“Hey babe. I made it safely to Hong Kong, thank god. Good news—everything’s taken care of. My brother and I are gonna be fine. The bad news is that I’ll have to be living here for a few months as I recuperate, as I predicted. I was in pretty bad shape when I arrived, which is why it’s going to take longer for me to recover. Tong wants to keep me under supervision for a while. But I’m already feeling better.

Things are pretty tight in HK. I’m a wanted man here as well. I don’t think making a move right now is wise, but I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll keep you updated whenever I can. Try to take it easy and don’t worry about a thing—I’ll take care of it. I love you, and I’m always thinking about you. - P”

Bebe typed a reply.

“My darling, I’m glad you’re alright. I was worried about you, but I also knew you’d make it through this. Give the doctor my sincerest gratitude—he saved the man I love. I’m also happy J is fine. I completely understand if you need to stay there—in situations like this, a doctor’s supervision is necessary even after the treatment.

Let me know how things go. I want to be with you but things have to be just right. I love you, P. I hope you get better soon. I already miss you. Hugs and kisses. Yours,

- B”

Within the following day, Bebe received another email.

“Bebe—so much is happening right now. I don’t have much time, and neither does the world. Just bear with me. I’m going to be fine, I think, but my brother keeps unearthing more of this conspiracy. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know something will, and if it does, it’s going to be big. I can’t explain everything over the net, but I promise I will when I see you. I don’t know how much time there is and I know this sounds crazy but you’ll just have to trust me. Withdraw your savings now. There’s a high chance the net might crash and everything will be lost. Savings, records, and all sorts of info. Make sure you have plenty of food and supplies as well.

No matter what happens, I will find you! And that’s a promise. Just stay where you are. I love you so much more than you could ever imagine. - P”

Something inside Bebe told her Paul wasn’t lying. Everything Paul told her before and everything they had researched and pieced together made sense. She knew there could only be so much more to this story than most people knew and few had theorized about. After typing her obedient reply, Bebe set off for the bank and asked to withdraw the entirety of her account. Her salary provided her with decent savings she had accumulated over a few years.

But she wondered if the funny look the bank teller gave her was indicative of ignited suspicion. She knew it was. She smiled as the bank teller discussed the request with the manager, who gave her a poorly-disguised look of surprise. Who else but a shady person would just want to remove all their chits from the bank? Only somebody that knew something that most people didn’t know would act this way . . . She would just have to lie and say it was for a potential family emergency. Or that she’s just paranoid and that there are rumors the banks will fail soon. Hearsay type of stuff. But no, the latter would be too suspicious. Just go with the family emergency, she thought. 

Signing some papers that would let the federal revenue office know the reason for her massive withdrawal, she questioned just what the hell she was doing. She stopped for a while and glanced up at the bank teller, who was too busy counting chits to notice her. Bebe questioned herself for a bit--she was blindly obeying Paul’s orders, which wasn’t really a problem in and of itself, but how could she really know what was going on? Paul wouldn’t lie to her though. She knew that man for three years and he never lied. She just had to trust him. Worst case scenario, she’d be tracked down. But if nothing were to happen, she could just say she got worried sick for an ailing family member and took the money out to help with treatments.

“Forty-six-thousand, two-hundred and fifty-nine chits, ma’am,” the bank teller said, fat stacks of the electric green notes neatly sitting on the counter.

“Thank you so much,” she said, handing them the signed papers. “Here you go.”

She opened up her purse and filled it with the money, trying to act naturally. The teller and his manager looked at her strangely, as well as the clients behind her. She felt herself tense up.

“Thank you so much,” she said again. “Have a nice day.” She had a habit of being overly-polite sometimes.

And with that, she carried her loaded purse all the way to her car and drove home, the tunes blaring and the pedal to the metal. Suddenly, the music stopped. Could this be it?

She checked her phone and noticed there was no signal anywhere. The music stream was buffering continuously until it lost connectivity for good. Moving to the network settings, she confirmed there really was no net anymore. She couldn’t believe it at first, and then, she did.

Parking her car, she rushed inside the lobby of her apartment building. There were people standing outside with their cellphones in the air, trying to obtain signal, their faces scrunched in bewilderment. Glancing at the far end of two blocks over where one of the P-Mobile buildings was, people swarmed into the store to complain about their phone services.

“Miss, have you heard? The net’s gone black—disappeared,” the alarmed security guard at the reception said. “Everyone’s internet just shut off. Even the phones, TV, everything. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh my god,” she said. “I’ll have to check mine out. Thank you.”

She went upstairs and rapidly scanned her nanokey to her door, eager to get inside. What would she do now?

She checked her computer. The internet was gone. No new emails from Paul, just the cached one from before. As she sat in her apartment, she heard her neighbors arguing loudly in desperation. Turning on the TV, she checked every channel, finding nothing but static—ultimately confirming everything Paul told her. Glancing outside her window and down at the congested streets, violence intensified.

After a few days to a week of the world descending into darkness, reports of the global net crashing and burning appeared on every newspaper. A national emergency was declared, and speculating specialists wondered who was responsible, pointing fingers at foreign governments and even “traitors” within the United States. The zealously religious stood outside every corner, wailing that it was the beginning of the Apocalypse, and the conspiracy theorists held meetings in their garages, claiming it was aliens. But soon enough, the Dentons were named. Bebe paid close attention.

“It is suspected that terrorist JC Denton and his brother, Paul Denton, are behind this massive communications collapse worldwide. We are slowly but surely receiving letters that confirm the internet shutdowns in every nation. Agencies are investigating the matter as best as they can.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. She just hoped the bank tellers didn’t put two and two together and decided to send somebody after her. After all, there was nothing suspicious about a woman withdrawing all her savings a few minutes before the world collapsed. But she sighed in relief when she knew that they wouldn’t have been able to pull up her personal information without the internet.

She thought about her family. Her dad had left them before she was even born, and her mother died of the Grey Death before Ambrosia was released. Her cousins were all living their lives as married people with children, and her only living aunt was old now. What would they think, though? What would they think if she were to run off with a “criminal”, a “terrorist”, a wanted man? Crises were meant to be times where family stuck together more, but with Bebe leaving . . . would they label her as selfish? Crazy? Bad? She only hoped that one day they would understand that Paul was not the person the media and the government was portraying him to be.

They didn’t even know she was pregnant. Engaged? Yes. They knew Paul and they liked him. But the media was a powerful weapon, especially now that the people’s only source of outside knowledge was funneled via the last remaining newspapers. They could twist and besmirch the Dentons as they wished, and people would buy it. Not everybody, though, as there were people who had been following the Juggernaut Collective—until it disbanded—and a few other rebel news disguised as tabloids and conspiracies. But alas, the perceptions of Bebe’s friends and family could definitely be warped against Paul. She had to be careful.

But most importantly, she had to figure out what the next steps in her life would be. If only she could talk to Paul. She wondered if she should keep going to work—part of her would think it better to disappear from society at once and wait until Paul came back, but the other part of her couldn’t just leave all those poor patients behind. She knew there were other doctors and nurses who would do a fine job—but could she really just disappear now? Did she still have to keep up her façade of normalcy? As if she weren’t the woman of the second-most-wanted man in the world right now?

She got up and started packing, hoping that at least sorting this out would bring her more clarity. What were her favorite clothes? What could she stand to leave behind? What would be useful? She took her favorite shoes as well as personal keepsakes and important documents, neatly enclosed in file folders and manilla envelopes, and put them in a suitcase. Most of the money was also stored there. Then, glancing at her desk, she took note of her journal.

How could she leave this behind? She had to take it. Unless, of course, she wanted to be that mysterious woman who left her revealing memoirs in a secret diary. She considered the thought briefly and then took the journal, the pages automatically splitting upon a section with a dried red rose that had been stamped between the weight of the pages. It was the first flower Paul ever gave her. She instantly smiled as she felt the crispy, dark garnet petals on her fingertips, her mind going back to when the petals were bright as fresh blood and smooth like velvet.

[kiss-my-freckle]

Rewatch 8x6: The Wellstone Agency

This episode was gorgeous. 

Alina should've had breakfast with Red. They could've knocked that crossword out together. She seriously needs to be TeamRed. I like that they opened with the crossword puzzle. Three letter word for "It has benefits." JOB. Yeah.... a benefit to have Red cleaning your mess. Red offers her an omelet. Another egg reference. I'm waiting for the egg Krilov scrambled. She asked if he's giving her a case or a history lesson. Seriously... they've opened up her character for so much possibility with her background. She could totally play his girlfriend or his daughter. She doesn't have a Tom Keen in her life that could taint the education he provides. She lies about Cooper being in a meeting. She actually went to Red herself to tell him she thinks what he's doing with Liz is wrong. A bad case of "Girl has no idea. Girl speaks anyway." She doen't know Red is Liz's mother. Best she not think like everyone else... as if she knows what's best for Liz. Red has to pursue Liz because she's the one making it worse.

"Agent Park, next time you feel the urge to unburden yourself, you can rest assured... I've heard it all before. It's a luxury to stand on the moral high ground and critique those of us on the low ground. A lot of people do exactly that. Until they need my help." We saw how this turned out. Alina said she'll never ask for his help, but she did. Ressler said the same in S5. I wonder if they'll be pushing Ressler's in at some point. He didn't ask for Red's help in S5, Red simply offered it. Alina's storyline with this friend of hers feels similar to Ressler's with his brother. Borrowed money from the wrong people. Ressler turned to Liz, Alina turned to Red.  

Red knows very well who works for him. He knew Aram spoke sign language, and he knew Aram would be the one they sent undercover because he can speak more languages than they do. An agency that breaks the language barrier between criminals. Hilarious for Cooper to say sign language definitely doesn't count when it's exactly what Red needed. He needs to speak to the owner who's deaf, best put them on the blacklist. An FBI mole storyline for The Wellstone Agency to parallel the KGB mole that stole the Sikorsky Archive in 1990. The Sound of Silence. The deaf owner of Wellstone. Aram speaking sign language. It all reminds me of Lady Ambrosia and Newton Purcell... silence and screaming.

Marylouise Burke was a great choice for Glen's mother. I love how Dembe lets Red vent about Glen. It's hilarious. He just sits there and listens. They throw in a parallel for Liz, despite its context.

Red: “Huey is, in a word, the reason." Two words. "Which is why his failure to attend my memorial would be seen as a snub so great that I'm afraid it may send Mother into a heartbroken tailspin which she may never recover from."

Basically showing Red was referring to Agnes. 

Red: She might. Some day. But before then - I fear she may do something that she can never recover from.

They also throw Glen in parallel with Kate despite its context.

Dembe: It's his dying wish. Red: No, it's one of his dying wishes.

Red fulfills both dying wishes for Glen.

Nik: I can’t help you. Tom: Whoever is in here, this is the dying wish of a good woman, alright?

Red: I understand the temptation acting on a fine woman’s dying wish. But your quest has cost Nik Korpal his life, and persisting will put whomever you involve in harm’s way.

Liz: She killed herself so I could get the duffel bag. It was her dying wish. Feel free to honor it.

Kate's dying wish has yet to be fulfilled. Liz doesn't know Red's truth because she still doesn't know his identity. Liz is still trying to honor Tom's dying wish.

Red: You won’t miss a day more with her than is absolutely necessary. You have my word. Liz: And you have mine. That I’m gonna honor Tom’s dying wish. For me to know your truth. Before this is over, I’m going to find out what it is.

That's why this story isn't over.

Aram's conversation with Red's contact reminds me of S5. The pill reminds me of Earl King and The Djinn. The blacklister is a great storyline as they cross into the Russian language for Red's KGB background and the thumb drive. Cooper's scene with Alina about her friend's death feels a lot like his scene with Ressler over Audrey’s prior to him going after Mako Tanida. 

Another parallel despite its context. This one, to Red being Ilya.

Red: He told his mother he inspired you to record "Workin' for a Livin'" after a rousing game of beer pong in the back of a bar in Teaneck. Huey: And she believed him?

Ilya: What I can’t figure out is Dom. Why would he tell her all that? Red: In an attempt to help her move on. Ilya: And she believed him?

Aram is getting better out in the field... at thinking on his feet. No Turning Back by Claire Guerreso... great soundtrack for the scene. So dramatic. One of my favorite scenes of Aram... ever. Such a great performance.

"Evidently, Reddington was wearing a wire. One we'll tell the Justice Department that you were wearing." I think Red chose to wear the wire because he's not gonna let The Freelancer's release happen for another blacklister. He's done playing around. It basically removed Red as a CI, leaving the FBI to act as their accusers instead. It not only protects the FBI, it protects Red in the criminal world. His name will no longer come up should others want to face their accuser in court. He gives them a name, allows them to infiltrate, gets the proof they need, and makes it look like they got to these blacklisters on their own.

Cooper is playing a dangerous game with the thumb drive. Making sure Aram keeps it hidden from Red, yet claims to be working with Red at the same time. 

Cooper: As if I'm not already asking you to do too much, I need you to try and open this drive. Aram: Okay. Is this about a case? Cooper: I'm not sure. Which is why I need you to keep this between us. Nobody knows. Especially Reddington.

Aram: Mr. Reddington told you the name? Why? Cooper: Because we're on the same team. And because he knows we have to work together if we have any hope of bringing Keen home safely.

Skipping out on his halfsies, taking control as if Red works for him. 

Aram: Mr. Cooper, um - about, uh - this drive you wanted me to decrypt. Uh, I can't. I reached out to a friend at the NSA. Cooper: Do you trust him? Aram: I do. Cooper: Good. Because if he tells anyone about this, his life could be in jeopardy. Keep me posted. 

I believe this thumb drive will play out like the suitcase of bones, and it will most certainly put Liz’s life in jeopardy just as the suitcase put her in a coma. And I think it will be the NSA friend that makes a move rather than Cooper. I don't think he's gonna be anything like Jennifer's friend checking through Koehler's files. After Cooper said to keep it between them, Aram chose to reach out to his NSA friend. Big mistake. Totally different from the Fulcrum, which Aram handed directly back to Liz. He should've given the drive back to Cooper, but he didn't. That'll be his mistake.

Red: Her husband wasn't who he appeared to be. She was in jeopardy. I had to intervene. Cassandra: And... is she still in jeopardy? Red: I hope not.

I think the opposite of 3a could run through 8a. Ressler putting Liz in danger, Aram saving her life. Aram putting Liz in danger, Ressler saving her life. 

"He gets her hopes up, and I have to be the one to dash them. Glen at his finest." A great dialogue with double meaning. There’s also a parallel for Tom Keen and Ressler, despite its context. 

Huey: And I got to know 'cause I can't get my head around it. Why in the world is Raymond Reddington running errands for a DMV desk clerk?

Ressler: I'm just I'm trying to run my head around all this. So Reddington's not Reddington. 

Red: There is one thing that I can't seem to... wrap my head around. Tom. After all the lies, all the deception and humiliation, how you can just forgive and forget.

Rederina is my favorite parallel with Glen because it’s the part of the episode that I find most beautiful.

Death and rebirth.

Paula: Glenn... transitioned. Red: I don't know what that means.

Ilya: It is a mystery, right? So, we give them the answer. Katarina: What does that mean?

It’s complicated.

Huey: I - I didn't ask you what he did. I asked what made him special. Red: That's a bit more complicated. Huey: Ah, I'm sure it is. I'm sure it's incredibly complicated.

Red: It’s complicated.

Red: Oh, I think you’re very special. 

Weird and strange.

Huey: And weird and strange. But - I like weird and strange. You said I could ask for any favor... that's the favor. Red: You want me to tell you about how weird and strange Glen was.

Waters: Raymond Reddington. Wow. What a name. What a man. And people think I’m weird.

Liz: You have a picture of my mother in your weird, little apartment. Why?

Denner: You must have known how strange all of this was. Liz: Of course I did.

Huey: That'd be good. Uh, but the truth is, you can't do a bigger favor than revealing somebody's [heart and soul.] Red: No, I don't suppose you can. [Insert Dembe.]

I view Red's eulogy for Glen just as much a eulogy for Katarina Rostova - the person Red used to be. That's why I felt the Statue of Liberty was perfect. The glorious feet of two grande dames, Queen Rostova and Crowned Liberty. One of the saddest differences between Glen and Katarina - they can talk about Glen whenever - wherever they choose. Even saying the name Katarina Rostova has consequences, so her memory fades. Like Katarina, Glen was unafraid. I feel that's the biggest reason Red worries about his memories of Glen fading. Because Red's memories of his former self have, which gives reason for Glen's fearlessness to be the thing he'll miss the most.

Earl Fagen: Living a lie was worse than prison. The day I confessed was the day I went to jail. That was also the day I was set free.

I love the bag Red put Glen’s ashes in. It says "thank you" ... as if thanking Glen at the same time he's spreading his ashes. As they pan to the photo of Glen with his mother, I consider the mother-son parallel, still predicting Scottie and Halcyon being the next big bad because of Tom’s death. 

Scotcheroo... a great nickname for Red, I think. 

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 16

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 6,227

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"No joke, you can for real get us the stuff?"

Rayne grinned over at Anna as the three of us walked side by side. "For real. I got a girl on the inside who can hook us up."

Her gaze narrowed dubiously, "Don't play me. I've been friggin' jonesing for a fix since March."

"You know I'm good for it, sweetpea," she slung an arm around her shoulders. "Trust me. My word is my bond, ya dig?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I puffed out a heavy sigh and grumbled, "You two are ridiculous."

A scoff from Rayne, "You'll be singing a different tune once that sweet, sweet ambrosia is warming your belly."

Rolling my eyes, I took another quick glance around the food court as we crossed it.

Still no Lea.

Boy couldn't get here fast enough.

Also, boy better hurry, seeing as how there was less than an hour left before my shift started.

My thumb absently rubbed the spot where his phone number still branded my palm as we finished crossing the sea of plastic tables and chairs, coming to a stop in front of the Lucky Cat. Working behind the register today was someone I hadn't seen before. A boy with a bandaid on one cheek and short, choppy brown hair sticking out from beneath the baseball cap he was wearing backwards.

Wait…

I squinted.

…or maybe he was actually a she. Hard to say. They were really quite androgynous, whoever they were.

Rayne smiled at us and held up a finger, indicating for us to just watch and wait. Then she stepped forward, approaching the counter. "Sup, Miharu! We're here to see…" she paused, looking around to make sure there were no eyes on her that shouldn't be, then she hunched forward and lowered her voice to a whisper, "...Spellweaver."

The coffee purveyor of indeterminate gender said nothing for several seconds, just fixed her with a dull stare. "...she's in the back, just a sec," they at last huffed before turning and disappearing through the door behind them.

"Spellweaver…?" Anna arched an eyebrow at Rayne.

She nodded solemnly, "The street name she goes by for all of her shady backdoor dealings."

"Oh good grief," I massaged one temple with my fingertips.

Deciding to steer this conversation towards something a little less silly while we waited for… ugh, Spellweaver to show up, I asked Anna, "So you really have no clue what Mother and Father are planning for this whole weekend family outing thing they're inviting us to?"

"Zip," she popped the P as she shrugged. But then she was crinkling her nose with a frown, "Weaseltown's gonna be there though."

I hugged myself, shuddering. "Thanks, that does not reassure me."

"Relax! Dad's probably just gonna be all, " she gave a lofty sniff, raised her pinkie and deepened her tone in what I had to admit was a pretty good impression of our father, "let's just put this nasty bit of business behind us, bygones and whatnot, chip chip cheerio."

"You are aware he's not British, right?" my eyelids drooped at her. I couldn't resist a tiny grin though and exhaled slowly, "...you really think he'll be that forgiving?"

"Of course! Well... that or he'll be all," up that pinkie went again as she scowled, "how dare you throw your life away like this, young lady, disgracing the family name thusly! I will not stand for it, pish posh!"

"...not helping."

Rayne shushed us as the back door behind the counter swung open again and that Miharu person returned. "Your weirdo friends are here to feed their disgusting habit," they deadpanned, speaking to their coworker that'd also come striding out behind them, presumably none other than the infamous Spellweaver.

Aka Aqua.

I should have guessed.

Gaze darting about again to ensure the coast was still clear, Rayne rapped her knuckles against the countertop, tapping out the beginning of "shave and a haircut." Aqua gave a good natured snort before responding with two knocks herself, delivering the punchline to the tune.

Seriously? What was that supposed to be, some sort of code? This was just getting more absurd by the second.

"What're you ladies in the market for today?" Aqua asked, propping an elbow onto the counter.

"We're here for… the Spice," Rayne put heavy emphasis on the word, giving her a wink that was the very antithesis of subtle. "You still got your super special secret stash?"

"Maybe," she inspected her fingernails, casually bouncing one shoulder. "You know I only stock the primo kind too. But stuff's not easy to come by this time of year. If I did have it, supplies would be getting pretty low. It'll cost ya. You got the munny?"

Anna suddenly pushed forward, grabbing Aqua by the front of her apron and yanking her down to her eye level, "Yeah yeah, you got the goods or what, bitch?!"

"Anna!" I snapped, horrified.

"What?! I was just playing along with the bit!" she defended, immediately releasing her grip.

Aqua gingerly smoothed the wrinkles out of her apron and fixed her crooked visor, "Normally just the munny and a please would suffice."

"Was your sister seriously just about to straight up shank Aqua over some coffee?" a low, amused voice said right next to my ear, making me jump. I spun around, discovering Lea snerking behind me as he straightened back up. Xion and Roxas were with him too, looking dressed to be on the clock shortly.

There was a tiny harrumph from Anna, "Everyone knows you don't get between a white girl and her pumpkin spice latte!"

That's right.

That's what this whole foolishness had been over.

Pumpkin frigging spice.

"Three please," Rayne asked sheepishly, handing Aqua the munny and shoving a hefty tip into the jar for good measure. Then she sighed at Anna, "We can't take you anywhere."

"It was a friggin' bit!"

"Hey, so," Roxas piped up, drawing my attention to him as he smirked. Xion bounced on the balls of her feet beside him, looking positively ready to burst with giddiness as Roxas leaned forward, "...are you like our new mommy?"

I blinked, "Wha-?" Then yelped as Xion, apparently no longer able to contain her excitement, threw herself at me with a squeal and squeezed me in a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so happy for you two!" Her death grip tightened and I wheezed, looking to Lea for help. He just grinned wider at me and shrugged. The useless punk. Thankfully, Xion pulled back, seizing me by the shoulders instead. "Tell me everything! How did it happen? When did it happen? Was it love at first sight? Gah, I still can't believe you two kept it a secret for so long and even guilt tripped me over that harmless lil car prank, you jerk!" she punched Lea in the arm, forcing him to hiss out a pained "ow."

Served him right.

The abrupt sound of someone noisily clearing their throat cut through the air. We turned to find a lanky guy with wavy, ash blonde hair down to his shoulders standing nearby, his lavender eyes giving us a pointed look. "Pardon me, if you would…?"

Apparently we were blocking his path to the Lucky Cat register where Miharu was currently stationed at.

"Oh!" realization struck Xion and she hurried out of the way, dragging me with her.

"Thank you," he bowed his head to us before sauntering up to the cash register with a sly grin, "Well well, don't you look absolutely ravishing today, my fiesty little barista of love."

"Bite me, Joshua," Miharu ground out flatly.

"Only if you insist," he purred.

I was distracted from that exchange by a steaming to-go cup suddenly popping up barely an inch in front of my nose, making me stagger back a step. "Here ya go, sweetie!" Rayne chirped from behind the latte she was offering me.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I took it, giving her a tiny and somewhat dazed smile as I struggled to keep up with the whirlwind of activity going on around me. Too many different things were going on at once and it was all just a lot, okay?

"Ah!" Anna sighed loudly and happily after taking a long, deep swig from her pumpkin spiced beverage. "Pure heaven!"

"Amen, sister!" Rayne cried, chugging some of her own. Then she gasped, snagging Anna's arm and gesturing towards the Ice Palace. "Look! Kristoff's on shift! Think you can work your feminine wiles and score us some free sundaes?"

"Ray-Ray, please. You worked your magic, now watch me work mine. Hold my drink." She handed her cup to my roomie, cracked her knuckles and skipped off, singsonging, "Yoohoo, Kristoff!"

That poor boy was about to get played like a fiddle.

Rayne spared a look my way, grinned and elbowed my arm before casting a significant glance towards Lea. "Have fun," she half whispered, half giggled to me before running off after Anna.

"We should probably get going too, Xion. Gotta punch in," Roxas said as he eyed the massive overhead clock on the other end of the food court.

"Aw man," she whined, looking from him to me. "Fine. But you and me? We're gonna talk more later, got it?" she brightened, giving my arm a squeeze before joining Roxas who waved goodbye to us as the two of them walked off towards Pizza Planet.

Lea shook his head with a soft chuckle as he watched them go, saying to me, "Ignore them. The kiddos are just super happy for us lovebirds."

"Oh." I looked down at my to-go cup, fingers fidgeting with the lid. "So you got a chance to talk to them about it."

"Didn't really have to. I think that bit of theatrics between Anna and your crazy uncle the other day spoke for itself. Whole food court's been abuzz." He flashed me a big smile, shrugging, "Face it, El. We're the new hot topic."

"R-really?" I stammered, doing my best to stop the blush I felt creeping up my neck dead in its tracks. I'd nearly forgotten about that whole embarrassing scene. I think I'd been subconsciously trying to block it out, pretend it'd all been a bad dream.

"Don't worry. It'll become old news pretty quick and chatter'll die down."

"I hope so," I frowned, taking a careful sip of my warm latte. I hated being the center of attention and having people talk about me.

"So…" his eyes crinkled as he took a step closer to me now, plucking the cup from my grasp and depositing it onto a nearby table so he could take both my hands in his. Tracing his thumbs in light circles along my knuckles, he murmured, "Hi."

That blush I'd been keeping at bay? Just called in reinforcements and broke through the bloody barricades. "...hi."

His eyes briefly flicked to our right, discreetly calling attention to the fact that Aqua was grinning at us as she prepared a mocha order. Ah, message received. We had an audience. And an audience demanded a show, one which Lea seemed only too glad to put on as he now brought my hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of each one. "Didja miss me?"

My stomach flip-flopped. No, scratch that, it was doing goddamn somersaults like a gold medal gymnast on a set of uneven bars at the Olympics. Panicking a little, I hastily looked away and blurted out, "Miss you? Please, I just saw you yesterday. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet, I haven't had time to miss you."

What? I didn't know how to do the whole lovey-dovey thing, real, pretend or otherwise! Honestly, I was beginning to think it just wasn't genetically coded into my DNA.

He tsked. "That's not what you were supposed to say."

I gave him some side-eye. "What was I supposed to say?"

"Hm, I dunno… something like," he transferred his grip to my wrists, pulling my hands up to cup his cheeks, "how much you longed to see this gorgeous face again and how you cried yourself to sleep just counting the seconds until you could look upon its beauty once more."

"...I am not saying that."

"Huh," he smirked down at me. "Funny how ya didn't deny it though. Don't worry, we can work our way up to it."

I snorted. "Don't count on it."

A tiny laugh came from the Lucky Cat. With him still holding my hands to his face, we both looked over to see Aqua hiding a smile behind her fingers. She shook her head, "Sorry, pretend I'm not here. You two are just very cute."

I jerked my wrists free of his grasp and opened my mouth to say we most certainly were not. However, Lea was faster with a chipper, "We know!" With that, he picked up my drink once more, slipping his free hand into mine and cooed, "Let's go, shnookums," before walking off with me in tow.

Stumbling a few steps before matching his stride, I glanced back to make sure we were out of earshot. Then I looked at him. "No."

He cocked an eyebrow. "No what?"

My nose scrunched up. "Shnookums."

"Yes, sugarplum?"

I blanched. "No, that's not- I wasn't calling you-" I sighed, recomposing myself. "I was saying no to that pet name. Sugarplum's out too."

Lea pouted, "Aw, but they're classics. You sure you want to keep vetoing all of these? Pretty soon I'll have to start thinking outside the box."

"I'll take my chances."

"Suit yourself, don't say I didn't warn ya though." He then nodded to my cup, lifting it up slightly, "May I?"

"Uh…" I blinked. "...sure, go for it."

He took a sip then abruptly stopped us in the middle of the food court tables. "Shit, that's actually pumpkin spice. I thought your sister was only joking. October is still months away, how'd you guys manage to get your hands on this?"

My mouth pursed to one side. I can't believe I was about to say this. "...I know a gal who knows a gal."

A snerk huffed out through his nostrils. "Aren't you legally required to be wearing a trench coat and in a dark alley to say something like that?"

One corner of my lips twitched up despite myself as I took the latte back from him, "Was fresh out of trench coats."

"Well then, guess we'll just have to settle for this instead," he gripped the bill of my Ice Palace cap, twisting it sideways.

"Hey!" I swatted his hand away and spun my hat forward again. "I've got connections, I'm not a rapper. There's a difference."

"I know. I just really wanted to do that." His hand snaked up again, tweaking my cap to the left now. "Boyfriend privileges. Sorry, I don't make the rules."

Sighing, I straightened it again. "I've given you too much power. You're having way too much fun with this."

"No such thing." He went for the hat yet again but I caught his hand this time, narrowing my eyes at him. He grinned, shifting the hold so our fingers interlocked together instead, causing my heart to give a little flitter.

Then he used his other hand to turn the cap to sit sideways once more.

I drooped my eyelids at him. "I'm going to throw this drink in your face."

"And waste perfectly good pumpkin spice? For shame!" he chided playfully, thankfully having the common decency now to correct my hat back to the way it was supposed to be.

Ugh, this guy. Of all the people Anna could have shoved me into the arms of in front of the Duke on that fateful day, why'd it have to be him? I'm sure she'd only picked the nearest testosterone toting individual who just so happened to be strolling by in that exact moment but jeez, why couldn't it have been, oh I don't even know… Kristoff perhaps? Kristoff would have taken this more seriously. Kristoff I didn't have a maybe sorta crush on. Kristoff wouldn't have had my face toasting every ten stupid seconds. Seriously, I swear Lea had made me blush more in the past several weeks that I'd known him than I'd ever done in the rest of my entire life combined. I'm not sure who that said more about - Lea or my ex.

Shaking my head at him, I prompted, "So you said something yesterday about coming here to do some couple-watching?"

"Oh, right. Almost forgot." Lea glanced about at the shoppers enjoying their meals all around us. "Lessee here, who do we got…?"

"Why not Riku and Rayne? I mean, I live with them and they're in on the secret, I'm sure they'd be happy to coach us or whatever." I began to lift my drink towards my mouth but stopped it a few inches short, staring down at it with a tiny frown.

"Nah, they're not just a couple, they're married. Married is a whole different animal from dating. Trust me, what we're looking for is a cutesy-wootsy boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic duo." He took a break from scanning the area to focus on me once more, noticing the look I was now giving my cup. He quirked an eyebrow, "Problem?"

My eyes flicked to his lips, then returned to my latte. Then back and forth once, twice more.

...oh grow up! It's not like the boy had cooties!

"Not at all," I muttered, hiding my small scowl behind the cup as I finally took a sip, telling myself that the slight warmth I felt in my cheeks was only due to the heat of the beverage, nothing more. "What about them?" I asked hastily, gesturing back towards the Lucky Cat where... Joshua, was it? Was still talking to Miharu. "They're a couple." He was leaning across the countertop with a devilish little smirk, bringing their faces really close. Miharu, on the other hand, looked about ready to grab the nearest banana walnut muffin from their display case and shove it up his nose. I furrowed my brow, "...aren't they?"

He followed my gaze. "Who, them? Those two are… complicated. What they got going on seems to work for them, but it's not exactly the type of Hallmark romance we want to be emulating in front of your folks. No, we want too adorable and precious for this world. We want pure, unadulterated wholesome on a stick. We want cavity-inducing sweetness. We want…" once more, his eyes were darting from one table of mall-goers to the next until at last his face lit up and he pointed, "...them! Perfect!" And off he went again, dragging me with him.

We wove our way past several tables before coming to a halt at one in particular, seated at which was-

"Kairi? Sora?" I blinked at them and they both looked up at the sound of their names.

"Oh, hey guys!" Sora hit us with the full force of that blinding smile of his.

"Hiya!" Lea chirped, pulling out a chair for me. "Mind if we join you two?"

"Please," Kairi nodded enthusiastically, twisting her chopsticks into her chow mein that looked to be from Mushu's Kingdom. "Be our guest!"

I'm sorry, but couple-watching and couple-interacting were two completely different things. This is not what I'd signed up for. Still, I took the seat with only the barest hint of hesitation, feeling Lea push it in behind me before he grabbed the one next to me, spinning it one-eighty on one leg so he could plop down into it backwards.

Eyes dancing, Kairi spoke up again, "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of being joined by the Dusk Town Center's newest It Couple?"

"...It Couple?" I echoed, arching an eyebrow as I put my drink down in front of me, fingers fidgeting with the coffee sleeve.

"Told ya, El!" Lea chuckled, folding his arms atop the table, his elbow coming to rest against mine. "Everyone's talking about us. Can you blame them though? We did have a rather dramatic debut."

"Oh gosh," I smothered my face in my hands.

"Nothing to be embarrassed over, you're fine!" Kairi giggled, then glanced smugly over at Sora. "Plus, I got to tell this loser here that I'd told him so!"

He rolled his eyes, grin never wavering. "Lucky guess. You had no way of knowing they were already dating."

"Woman's intuition," she razzed her tongue at him, tapping her chopsticks to her temple. "It's never wrong."

Welp. It was wrong this time. Lucky for her, Lea and I had a cover to maintain. Good thing too, I don't know if I'd have had the heart to tell her otherwise and burst her bubble.

"Besides," she tacked on, slurping up a noodle, "it's always been plain as day for anyone to see on Lea's face. He has that whole lost puppy look going on whenever she's around."

"I don't have a lost puppy look," Lea scratched the back of his head with a sheepish laugh before glancing my way and insisting, "I don't."

Sora sniggered, "Yeah, Kai, I think that's just the way his dopey face always loo- ow!" That last part was in response to Lea reaching across the table to flick him in the forehead.

Ignoring the boys, Kairi sighed dreamily, "It's all just so sweet! Like some sort of modern day, food court, Shakespearian romance! One from House Pizza, the other from House Ice Cream, two star-crossed lovers defying all odds to be together!"

...okay, why were we here again?

"It's not like we're from two warring families locked in a blood feud." Lea snorted and muttered, "House Ice Cream and House Pizza… what even?"

"Shush, I was being poetic!" Kairi harrumphed before lightly slapping Sora's hand away as he tried to steal some of her chow mein.

Rubbing his sore knuckles, he whined, "Aw c'mon, Kai, all this food talk is making me hungry!"

"You've already eaten twice your weight in orange chicken, you big goob!" she shot back. But when he gave her the saddest pout in the history of all mankind - nay, the history of all existence - her shoulders slumped and she relented, stabbing her chopsticks into the noodles and twirling them, "Fine, open up, doofus."

He immediately perked up and parted his lips wide. Having wrapped a sizable portion around her sticks now, she gently eased it into his awaiting mouth. For all the care she took though, some sauce still managed to get on the corner of his lips as he started to chew. Kairi gave a soft tch and told him, "Hold still." Then she took his chin between her fingers, bent forward and kissed the smudged side of his mouth, leaving it clean by the time she'd pulled back, licking her lips with a tiny smirk.

Sora swallowed his food. "Thanks, bae!" he beamed, bowing his head towards hers and nuzzling the tips of their noses together, eliciting a titter from her.

Oh. Right. That's why we were here.

These two were cavity-inducing alright. I think I was already feeling my teeth begin to rot just by being within a five foot radius of them. Dear lord, I don't think I could ever be like that, especially not where people could see us.

...was Lea suggesting I act this way?

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he stretched a hand across the table towards Kairi's tray and dipped a finger into some of the excess chow mein sauce on one side of her plate. Lea then proceeded to dab the goo onto his nose, plant his elbow on the table, prop his chin in his palm and lean towards me with a cheshire grin, eyes hooded and eyebrows bouncing.

Apparently, yes. That's exactly what he was suggesting.

I stared blankly at him.

Yeah, no. Not happening, pal.

"Worth a shot," Lea snerked as he reached for a napkin to scrub the smear off with.

Kairi bit back a smile, "D'aww, she's shy! That's adorable!"

"That's my baby! Wouldn't have her any other way!" he tweaked my nose with a wink.

"Oh! I just had a great idea!" Kairi clapped her hands together. "Tomorrow night, Sora and I were gonna go out with Riku and Ray. Nothing fancy, just dinner and a movie. But what if you two joined us as well and turned our double date into a triple? How fun would that be?"

I don't know… dinner and a movie? She was asking a lot of little ol' hermit me. Maybe too much.

Lea looked to me, pressing his shoulder into mine. "How 'bout it, El?"

...well… I guess… for the sake of practice…

I gave the couple across from us a shy smile. "What time were you thinking?"

Taking that as a yes, Kairi cried out in delight. "Awesome! We're all meeting up at six. You can get the deets from your roomies!" She then picked up her phone to check the time. "Crap," she hissed, jumping up to her feet, "gotta run! Selphie's gonna murder me for taking too long on my lunch break!"

"Wait up, I'll walk you back," Sora called, taking the opportunity to snatch up the chopsticks she'd dropped and shovel what was left of the chow mein down his throat faster than should have been humanly possible. Then he grabbed the tray and hopped up as well, cheeks bulging with food as he muffled out, "See ya guys tomorrow!" before taking off after his girlfriend.

"So…?" Lea asked, one side of his mouth turning up as he stole another sip from my pumpkin spice latte.

I gave a small, incredulous laugh, "No. Also? No. No, no, no. No. Did I mention no? Because just in case I didn't… no. And just for good measure: no. So in conclusion? No."

"Pfft," he rubbed a hand over his lips. "Well I understand if they may seem a bit… advanced to you…"

"Advanced?" I scoffed. "Try critical mode. I had no idea such couples existed outside of children's storybooks starring princesses and prince charmings. Do they even know they're in the real world and not some fairytale?"

Lea's head tipped to one side. "...you do realize that was some pretty basic boyfriend-girlfriend stuff… right?"

A crease formed between my eyebrows. "You mean that was normal?"

"Well," he averted his gaze, scratching his cheek, "...all couples vary and do things differently. But I wouldn't say Kairi and Sora are abnormal. There's a lotta couples out there that are just as disgustingly cute as they are, if not more so."

I bit down on my lower lip and hunched forward onto my elbows, clasping my hands in front of my face just beneath my nose. How was it I'd been in a relationship for five years and was just now figuring out that I didn't have the first clue when it came to dating? "...my ex and I were never anything like that. Not even close."

"And that," he struck up a finger, "works out in our favor. After all, you dumped his sorry ass, one, cuz you weren't in love with him and two, to be with yours truly," his fingers splayed across his chest as he grinned, "a hunky dreamboat you are in love with, or so the story goes. Now it shouldn't be too hard to sell that to your folks, given your former beau has set the bar so pathetically low for us."

"But I don't know if I have it in me to…" I trailed off, my hands clenching to each other more tightly. "...if I'm even wired to be such an absolute… googly-eyed, twitterpated… mess like those two were." My insides squirmed at the very idea.

"No problemo!" Lea jabbed a thumb into his collarbone, "I can be enough of a googly-eyed, twitterpated mess for the both of us!" He stiffened, then coughed into his fist, "That is, I mean… ya know, for the sake of appearances. If that'd be okay with you, of course."

He was talking about him being, erm… how had he put it the other day? Ah yes… touchy-feely. My eyes darted to the right. "I suppose… for appearances… as long as I have time to get used to it all and there are no more surprises."

"Speaking of, we never really did get around to going over those PDA guidelines for what gets a green light and what's a big fat no-no."

I stared down at the cup, my finger idly circling the rim of the lid. "...what did you have in mind?"

"Maybe we should start by knocking out the most obvious one." I glanced up at him now, waiting for him to elaborate. His grin faltered almost imperceptibly, "You know, the big K?" I merely quirked an eyebrow at him. Eyes shifting about, Lea cleared his throat, "...kissing?"

"Not on the lips." The words sprung from my mouth faster than I could think them, causing me to clamp a hand over it in embarrassment.

But come on now, my brain had had a full system hard crash when the guy had planted an innocent little peck on just my forehead yesterday! I couldn't even begin to fathom what a real, honest-to-god kiss on the lips might do to me. Let's not forget how poorly I'd handled the Kissident and I hadn't even known the guy yet, much less potentially had feelings for him!

He blinked, then snorted and shook his head at me. "Nah, I'd already figured that would be a total no-go. Which is no biggie, lotsa couples out there aren't comfortable sucking face in front of prying eyes. But uh…" he rubbed at the nape of his neck, "What I have been doing… back of the hand, forehead… pretty much any other exposed bit of skin, that all fair game?"

Gosh, this was a weird conversation to be part of. Not to mention awkward. I could already feel my blush from earlier waiting backstage, eager to make an encore performance. Looking away, I said, "That, uh… y-yeah, okay."

It should be fine.

If I allowed myself to get used to it, of course.

Though that was kind of a big if.

"Okay…" A slow smile was breaking out across his face and he repeated, "Okay, good. Onto the next item of business then: hugs. Yea or nay?"

Jeez, this suddenly felt so official. And yet, slightly silly at the same time somehow. I ventured, "...y-yea?"

"You sure?" his finger tapped the tip of my nose. "You don't sound too confident there."

"No, it'll be fine," I said quickly. With proper mental and emotional fortifying, I hopefully could and would survive this. Hopefully.

"Alright," his eyes crinkled as he studied me for a beat. Then, "What about this?" He reached a hand for where mine lay palm down against the table, his touch grazing along my knuckles before softly tracing down the lengths of my fingers. "...kinda like hand holding, but a lil fancier," he murmured, lifting my hand up so he could brush his fingertips to mine for a few seconds before gently flattening our palms together, lazily weaving and unweaving our fingers. "Something for idle hands to be doing when we're just hanging out. That okay?" he asked, still lightly toying with my fingers.

This had no right to be spiking my heart rate the way it was. Not trusting myself to talk as it would probably come out more of a squeak right now, I settled on a tiny nod.

He smirked as he eased my hand back down to rest atop the table once more. "...and this?" Lea gripped one of my chair legs, pulling me closer to him. Then his arm stretched out past my cheek, reaching behind my head so he could sweep my ponytail forward over my shoulder. There, he wasted no time twisting the end of a lock around one finger, playing with the pale strands of hair. "...yea or nay?" he prompted again somewhat distractedly, green eyes locked on his hand as it slowly ensnared itself further.

Was there less oxygen in the room? I swear there had to be less oxygen. Why else was it getting so hard to breathe all of a sudden? Must be all that damn deforestation going on out in the world. Curse all those big evil corporations and their blatant disregard for the environment!

Licking my dry lips, I nodded again, hesitantly at first, then putting more force behind it. "Mm… mm-hm! T-that should be… sh-shouldn't be a problem." I withdrew my hands into my lap, folding and unfolding them only to fold them again. "After all, we ah… must maintain appearances, of course."

"Of course," his grin twitched wider. "So then, what about this?" Carefully disentangling his fingers, he lifted his hand to tuck my bangs behind my ear as he started to lean forward, his face closing in towards mine.

Conceal, don't feel!

Remember, this? This was just… just an act. We were in the middle of a very busy food court. He was merely putting on a show for the masses. Just playing the role that had been given to him.

...but honestly, did he have to be playing it so goddamn friggin' well?!

I swear I could feel every last drop of blood in my body dogpiling up into my face as he closed the distance. The tip of his nose brushed mine and he shifted over to the right at the last second, positioning his mouth next to my ear. My heart hammered wildly, threatening to punch a hole through my ribcage as he inhaled, preparing to whisper something, his lips grazing against my earlobe and-

"Fwunkle-munkle."

My eyebrows twitched and I blinked.

"Splubbet. Squippo."

...were my eardrums broken?

"Flerple. Mubble-whoomp."

I spluttered and snorted. "What are you even doing?"

Lea pulled back just enough to look me in the eye with a cheeky grin. "What's it look like I'm doing? Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, duh!"

My fingers went to my mouth and I choked back a laugh, "More like sweet nonsense."

"Eh, same diff. Now if you'll excuse me, I wasn't quite finished." He bent towards my ear once more, his voice low and breathy as he continued, "Yuppet. Smoorple."

"Stop, that tickles," I was cracking up now, putting a hand to his chest so I could push him away.

He didn't budge, just moved his own hand to cover mine. "Fleegget-smeegget. Kronkle. Pixie Petal."

That last one caught my notice. "As in the ice cream flavor?"

"Mm-hm!" he straightened up now, exiting my personal bubble and crossing his arms atop the back of his reversed chair. His eyes squinted at me and he pursed his lips in thought. "...but no, that's not your fave either. It's all sparkle, no substance. You need quality. Nothing but the best for you."

Fighting a grin, I shook my head at him, "You think you know me so well."

His face softened a little as he looked at me. "...I think I'm starting to."

My breath hitched.

Oh dear. Remember that maybe sorta crush I had? I think we could now safely drop the "maybe sorta" part of it.

It was official. I'd gone and caught feelings.

For a man who was totally unavailable at the moment. A man who'd made it clear he was only doing this favor for me as a friend.

This was a dangerous game I was playing. And with someone who was much better at the game than I was, especially when you considered that he didn't even know he was playing it.

My eyes shifted about, alighting on everything and anything that wasn't him before finally landing on the food court clock. "Oh!" I took note of the time and shot up to my feet, the chair scraping along the tiled floor as it pushed out. "My shift's starting soon, I need to get going. Tomorrow then? Yeah, I'll text you once I get the specifics from Rayne. Right. So… until then."

I turned to book it but hadn't gotten more than a step before I felt his hand close around my wrist. I glanced back at him to see him standing now as well, a crooked curve to his lips. "Leaving without a proper goodbye? I don't think so."

He then pulled me back towards him, taking hold of my other wrist as well and bringing both my hands up to cup behind his neck. There he left them, moving his arms down to snake around my waist, hugging me tightly against him as he once more bowed his head down next to my ear. His breath was warm, making me shiver slightly as he whispered, "Wear my jacket for our big date tomorrow. For appearances."

Then he tipped my hat up and smooched my forehead before releasing me, shooting me a wink and walking away with a whistle.

Leaving me a blushing mess leaning against a chair for support, feeling just about ready to go supernova and obliterate all buildings within a ten block radius of me.

Oh yeah. I'd caught feelings all right.

And I didn't like it.

How the hell do I get rid of them?!

Author's Note: The whispering sweet nothings bit I wrote is one of my most favorite things ever. And at the same time, I hate it. It's so stupid. And yet, I love it so much xD Also, here, have some silliness with Aqua aka Spellweaver aka Command Style or Best Street Name For Shady Backdoor Deals Ever? You decide! And if you didn't recognize where the name came from that I used for the ice cream flavor this chapter, it's the name of a keyblade - the one you get from clearing Neverland in BBS, to be exact! That's right, I've resorted to keyblade names. I think I picked a few good ones too in the chapters ahead! That's all I use for the ice cream flavors from here on out in the story except for ONE of them, and there's a reason behind that one… which I'll only be too happy to explain when we get to it xD Anyhoo, if you were looking at the ice cream menu board, the description for Pixie Petal would probably go something like: "This lime soft serve in a green cone, garnished with white chocolate wings and gold edible glitter is sure to get you thinking happy thoughts!" Annnnnd side note: in case you're wondering, no, Miharu is not a character that appears in any of the KH games that you may have forgotten about - she's another OC belonging to my beloved bestie who I'm borrowing Rayne from xD She ships Miharu hard with Joshua from KH:DDD (or more specifically, TWEWY) so I just wanted to throw in a brief nod this chapter to that endearingly oddball lil ship!

Next chapter, how will this lil date night go? Will Elsa learn a thing or two about how to act like a sickeningly sweet couple? Now that she for sure knows she is in fact crushing on our dear fire boi, will she be able to keep her cool in front of him? Will Anna be checked into rehab for her unhealthy addiction to white girl pumpkin spice lattes? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

So, I just read it on Twitter and had to share it with you. “Climate change has fucked up seasons, does this mean Hades and Persephone’s deal has changed? Is she getting her cheeks smashed for longer now? Is Hades okay with random dick appointments rescheduling? Is Demeter going crazy? Is she going stupid?”

“Your mom must be going fucking nuts, huh?”

It’s 3:32 AM in the morning, the halls of the palace are fast asleep, and the only sound is the soft, muffled crackling of the eternal fires the burn just outside the large, arched window of their bedroom.

For millennia, Hades never really payed much mind to what humans were doing to the world. The wars, the bloodshed, the atrocities— it was always a part of mankind, for as long as he could remember. He’s aware that his mindset is probably do to the fact that he grew up during a time when all of these aspects were very common, so he was numb to them, to an extent.

But in all of his years of life, Harry had never witnessed humans actually be able to push the boundaries of their powers to the point where it was impacting the actual planet. 

Bombs are the obvious factor, as well as mass deforestation, oil wells, mines, and so much more. However, amidst all of these impacts humans lay upon the world, none of them had ever had a direct influence on Harry’s life. He’s sequestered so far down in the depths of the earth that humans can’t possibly reach him here without kicking it first.

That was until global warming became an issue.

Well, an issue for those who live above ground. For him, it was actually working out quite to his advantage.

He’s knows it’s a horrible thing to say but he’s already in Hell so he doesn’t really have much to lose. Actually, he has so much more to gain.

Since global warming is a direct line to climate change, all of the seasons have been thrown out of their natural order. Fall and Winter used to be strictly six months, which is when Persephone would be down in the Underworld with him. As soon as the first of the seventh month hit, it was time for her to go back to Olympus with her mother for their given time of Spring and Summer.

The end of the six month period was usually when the weather would start to warm up on the surface, resulting in Persephone having to go and take the reigns of her godly duty with Demeter. But increasing climate change has been tinkering with the technicalities for the last few years and most of the time, it’s in Hades’ favor.

It’s been two weeks into the seventh month, and with temperatures still near freezing in some areas of the world, Y/N has managed to use this as an excuse to extend her stay with Harry. And since the weather is too risky for crops to start growing, Demeter’s hands are tied in her own grape veins, much to Hades’ glee.

This brings them to where they are now, snuggling cozily under the charcoal black duvet of their humongous bed, legs intertwined as his wife cradles her head against his bare chest, the tips of his fingers tracing both of his names down the expanse of her spine.

The last two weeks had been a hell of a ride, literally and metaphorically.

It reminds Harry of how when they had first gotten married, they had been going at it like rabbits for the weeks that followed, as if the world could end any minute.

But now, it was The Weather Channel that could potentially throw a gear in their little extravaganza. They had been safe thus far into the month, so every day was a triumph, and triumphs obviously have to be celebrated.

The amount of fucking got so embarrassingly frequent, in some embarrassingly unequip places, to the point where one of the cleaning servants had walked in on them in a storage closet when Harry was supposedly at an emergency meeting on Olympus.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been more mortified then when the servant handed him a freshly cleaned towel and said, “Here, you’ll need this for when you’re finished.” before closing the door behind her.

Harry looks down at Y/N, not being able to keep a gentle smile from tickling his lips as she presses her ear over his heart, comforted by the mellow thumping that had been harsh and fast-paced a few minutes prior. He ducks down and presses a caring kiss between her sweaty brows, her skin still hot and clammy from the exertion he’d just put her through.

His voice comes out as a raspy laugh and she can feel the edges of his mouth drawing up into a sly simper against her forehead.

“She must fucking hate me right now more than ever, too.”

Y/N pinches at his tummy in a cautionary manner, but she can’t fight the amused scuff that escapes her. “It’s not like you’re responsible for the weather, though.”

Hades shrugs one shoulder, his dark emerald eyes glistening in the buttery light of the fires below that stream in through the glass window. His tone is cocky and self-indulgent.

“But I am responsible for this.” He streams his fingertips down the dip of her back and onto her ass, moving the sheets down a tad to reveal a darkened outline of his handprint. “And that’s enough to cause her to plunge the world into another Ice Age.”

Persephone fully laughs now, her eyes squeezing shut as her whole face lights up like the Northern Lights and Harry can’t resist scattering a dozen kisses all over her cheeks and nose. She just looks so fucking cute when she smiles like that.

Hades cups the side of her jaw with his fingers, thumbing over the faint dimple on her chin as he rubs his nose over the tip of her’s. Even though his plump, wine-tinted lips carry a tender, sleepy grin, she can hear the sadness weighing his words. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Persephone sighs deeply, reaching up to push her husband’s damp, chestnut curls away from his forehead, combing them back from his softening eyes as he swallows heavily, thick eyebrows furrowing as he tries to keep his emotions from registering on his face. “I don’t want to either, but I have to eventually.”

Harry nods his head emptily, the tip of his cold nose running up and down the suppleness of her cheek. “I just don’t want this to end.”

Y/N snorts lightly, trying to lift the mood of the conversation. “Yeah, I get that. Then you won’t have anyone to ride you in the bathing pool.”

She thanks the gods that it works, heart fluttering in her chest as Harry breaks out into a fit of that high-pitched laughter he does when he can’t control himself. His entire face changes for a moment, his nose crinkling upwards as the corners of his eyes wrinkle in delight.

“Am I wrong?!” She teases, poking him in the stomach and sides until his hands are fumbling for her own, his giggling intensifying when she buries her head into his neck and starts blowing raspberries against his skin.

“Okay, okay!” Harry can barely breathe, his ribs aching but in the best way and he can’t seem to stop beaming. “You’re kinda right.”

Y/N halts her attack, mouth dropping open in fake appalled shock, eyebrows flying upwards outrage. “Are you serious?!”

She tries to yank her wrists free from her husband’s large hands, but his fingers only tighten to keep her from going at him again. Persephone lays there writhing from side to side, yelling out all types of vulgar language that is gradually dissolving into bundles of banter and giggles as Harry makes kissy-faces, warning her to calm down before he “gives her a taste of her own ambrosia.”

Y/N, in the spur of the moment, mounts herself on top of Harry in a whirlwind of messy sheets, straddling his hips with her thighs and trying to tug herself free that way, but his hold is beyond godly. She releases an exasperated groan, slamming their conjoined hands down against his stomach, satisfied at the pained grunt he chokes out. “You deserve it, you prick.”

They are both still grinning from ear to ear, Y/N’s hair a tangled mess of flyaways as she slumps down in defeat against Hades’ lap, pouting and fuming jokingly.

When Harry sees his wife has come down from her bloodthirsty rampage, he slowly unclamps his fingers from her wrists, shrugging his eyebrows warningly. “I’ll pin you, babe. Behave.”

Persephone raises her own eyebrows challengingly. “Oh, yeah?”

Before Hades can react, she has his wrists crossed above his head, pressed into the mound of elegant feathered pillows below him. “How’s that, then? Turned the tables.”

Harry cocks his head to the side with an arrogant air as his bare, tattooed chest heaves alluringly. He runs his bottom lip under his top teeth as the corners turn up into a presumptuously attractive smirk, voice holding faux surrender. “You’re absolutely right, darling. I completely, totally lost. I have you sitting in my lap, naked, with a perfect view of your tits, which is the most dreadful defeat I can possibly imagine.You won.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow. It’s all a game— just for shits and giggles— but the way he’s eyeing her with that amused, conceited smirk makes her want to slap him across the face.

“You’re an asshole.” She huffs, nails digging into his wrists.

A holographic green glint flashes across the whites of Harry’s eyes, irises glowing with a watery jade hue as he mopes at her tauntingly. “Oh, but I thought I was a ‘prick?’”

Now he’s really asking for it. Practically begging for her to do something to make him take it all back. As if reading her mind, Hades flicks up a single eyebrow, and she can read his expression clear as crystal.

What are you gonna do about it?

Y/N can feel her nostrils flaring ever so slightly at the dare, and what drives it forward it that even though she is the one who is supposed to have Harry pinned down at her disposable, it looks more like he has his hands crossed behind his head, waiting for her to bend to his will.

It’s infuriatingly hot.

Something glints out of the corner of Persephone’s eye, her gaze rising until it lands on Hades’ wedding ring as it hugs his finger, the giant emerald jewel glittering in the muted amber lighting. He follows her locked stare, jaw flexing as he tilts his head back against the mattress, trying to find the target of her distraction.

His ring.

He very seldom takes it off, to the point where he has a tan line around the area. It’s his most prized possession, accompanied by his crown, his emblem, and Cerberus.

Y/N quickly wraps her fingers around it, pulling it off swiftly and holding it up above his head, sticking her tongue out at him playfully. “Good luck getting it back.”

Her plan backfires almost immediately.

She tries to swing herself off her husband to get the prize as far away from him as possible, but she had forgotten that their bodies had been tangled together in the sheets. Instead of making a speedy escape, she topples off his sideways, landing face-first into the fluffy duvet.

Harry’s muddled snickering mocks her.

The next thing she knows, Persephone is being scooped up in a pair of strong, lean arms, her back hitting the pillowy mattress and bouncing lightly. Harry’s body collapses over her’s, his hips snug between her thighs as his palms press down against the bed on either side of her head.

He moves strands of her hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ears as his face hovers over her, grin plastered all over it. “That was cute, pet. Ten-out-of-ten for effort. Execution? I’ll give you a two-out-of-ten, only because I love you so much.”

Harry shifts into his forearms, holding his left hand up and wiggling his ring finger. “Now give it back.”

“No.”

He rolls his eyes in mild irritation. “Give it back before you drop it behind the bed, you dolt.”

Y/N rattles her head in defiance, fist tightening around the obsidian ring as it remains pressed against her husband’s chest.

Harry gives her a ominous look, tilting his head to the side with a cautionary tone. “Give me my ring back before I give the other side of your bum a matching handprint.”

Instead of just giving in and returning the jewelry, Y/N decides to take the more complicated (and irrationally ridiculous) route. She pops it into her mouth.

Harry is so surprised he doesn’t blink for a few seconds. Then, he breaks out into awed laughter.

“You’re such a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? S’fucking impressive.” He shakes his head in disbelief, ghosting his index finger along her Cupid’s Bow, licking at the corner of his mouth coyly when he feels her lips twitching beneath his touch. “Now be a good girl and spit it out.”

Her words are muffled over the object. “Make me.”

A dark aura falls over Hades’ face, his hand coasting down from playing with her lips to wrapping delicately around her throat in foreshadowing. His voice is low and assertive. “You know I fucking will.”

“That’s what I’m betting on.”

Harry’s mouth curls into an evilly delighted simper. “Alright. You asked for it.”

Hades grabs one of Persephone’s knees, spreading her legs open roughly and using his own knees to keep her parted wide open. The ring finger of the hand around her throat presses against the center of her lips, the other hand wandering down and cupping her bare crotch without any warning. The two middle fingers of his right hand press deeper against her slick folds until he can feel the bud of her clit, and that’s when he starts wiggling the digits back and forth.

It starts off softly, but is quickly molding into a faster, messier, more eager pace. He usually eases her into sex because he knows how sensitive she can be down there to the point where she’ll cum without much work, but since they’re pitted against each other rather than together, dirty war strategies are expected.

Y/N’s legs act on instinct, trying to clasp shut as she feels her entire body coursing with electric shocks of sudden euphoria. However, the knees he has against her’s keeps her open, allowing him to do whatever he deems fit.

Persephone’s hands desperately grab at her husband’s, trying to get him to stop; she’d clearly overestimated her confidence level. She’d assumed he would just bury himself inside her, a strategy she knows how to fight with the right amount of willpower. But her clit is way more sensitive than anything else on her body and he’d gone in without remorse.

“T-That’s not fair! H-Harry, you can’t just— fuck, oh my God!” Her back arches up from the bed, thighs quivering as she feels deep pulses of pleasure pounding at the pit of her stomach.

Harry’s lips are flushed against her throat, placing hot, sloppy pecks across her juglar as he feels her getting wetter and wetter over his fingers. “I fucking warned you, sweetheart. I’m gonna make you cum like this, without me inside you. It’s what you deserve for being such a brat.”

“P-Please—!”

“Ring.” He growls demandingly, his second middle finger pressing harder against the center of her colored lips, the rest of his digits gripping her jaw firmly. “Now.”

It’s as if Y/N’s brain is no longer in control of her actions, her body acting on sheer adrenaline. Her mouth drops open on command, and she can feel Harry’s triumphant grin stinging across her jaw.

“That’s what I thought.”

The digit dips in and the ring slips past a third of it before Harry pulls it out. He makes eye contact with his wife, ducking down to whisper his next words across the shell of her ear.

“You’re gonna be the one to put the ring back on me.”

With everything that is happening, Persephone has no time to unravel the riddle behind Hades’ words. One of her trembling hands reaches up for his hand, trying to obey him in her drunken state of shock.

But he stops her with a light shake of his head, wet curls bouncing. “Not like that, baby.”

Harry then shifts his body over smoothly, the hand that was between her thighs slamming down beside her head to hold himself up as the hand with the ring takes its place.

In one quick, expert move, he plunges his two middle fingers inside Y/N, and the experience is almost out-of-body.

She can feel the abrupt chill of the metal ring making contact with the skin around her entrance, and then he’s slipping his digits further inside her, the ring pushing against her tight hole and running down his finger until it is snug in its rightful place. Until Harry is knuckles deep and she feels like she’s going to pass out as her senses go into overdrive.

Y/N is bucking and writhing against Hades’ hand, whimpering and whining and pleading with him to stop toying with her. To just fuck her already.

“Oh, I will, love. I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers first. Play with that spot inside you that I know drives you fucking wild. And then, I’m gonna proper raw you until you can’t even stand.”

Harry’s fingers slip out completely, only to pound back inside her harder this time, her whole body jolting upwards against the bed sheets as her throat aches with a broken yelp.

“I’m gonna make you apologize for calling me a prick—” his fingers draw out and slam back in and she’s so wet he can fucking hear it— “and an asshole—’ the same motion again, but this time she feels his teeth staining her neck and jaw with bruises— “and I’m gonna make you scream so loud, they’ll hear you all the way up in Olympus.”

And with the way he rams his digits back inside her, she knows he’ll make good on that promise.

[lombax-lombardi]

Marking~

Summary: When lighting crashes, it means a coming storm. When a creature of the night is without her food source, she will truly lose herself to the blood lust.

Genre: Character building, slight steamy content???? maybe??. Hehehe.

Character: Madilyn Ambrosia.

The loud evil cackle filled the halls of the empty cathedral. 

A fight had ensued here, corpses piled upon corpses. Blood pools everywhere, littering the cracked cobblestone.

“Ahahahahahahaha!” Our heroes stared upon their enemy. An Ancient Dragon by the name of Diera.

Diear.

The Blood Dragon.

Progenitor of the Diera Crest.

Along with its curse.

“Fools! You cannot stop my quest for vengence!’ She cackled, tossing Hilda across the room her body slamming against the cool marble.

“Mother why?” The one called Desiree cried out, the woman turned her head as if to actually look as to where that sound was coming from.

“Oh? You have lost the right to call me Mother child.” Her eyes were cold.

Uninnviting.

“Why art thou using thine children to exact thy revenge? Oh whom? On whom Mother has mine dear Lady suffer for you?” She asked, dagger in hand.

That’s who they came here for.

Byleth got a distressing message from the Ambrosia household, that their daughter was kidnapped by hodded figures and taken to this place.

This place was the nest of the Blood Dragon.

Diear, hair ratty and eyes turned to slits, like the reptile she is. “Seiros. SEIROS! I EXACT MY VENGENCE UPON THAT WHORE! SHE CAST ME OUT FOR WHAT I WAS!” Her voice boomed across the giant hall. 

“Ambrosia is the FIRST if my new SPAWN to truly become what she was meant to be!” Her clawed hand seemed to reach for said noble who was across the room.

Trying to fight off the call of her hunger.

The call for blood.

The call for feeding.

“You Desiree, are a failure! You could never become a pure blooded creature of the night.” She declared as a sluggish Hilda returned to the rest of the group.

Two blondes, who are Madilyn’s dearest friends, Minette and Sae were staring at the brunette at her place from across the room.

Minette knows the feeling of being cursed. Her arm itself is a curse. As for Sae she was the one who knew about Madilyn’s condition the longest and it crushed her soul seeing her, back into a dark, dank corner.

Like some wounded animal.

The two women weren’t the only ones who are staring at the scurrying noble.

Two others.

Two men of different backgrounds, while being both nobles, it seems this little dainty creature had caught their hearts.

They were aware of each other yes. 

But only one could claim her heart for their own.

Diera, leaning against her delapidated throne, scoffing, nails tapping against the cool stone. It seems the Professor and their students were disturbing her.

She points a long nailed finger towards the brunette who was now aware of the Ancient Dragons presence. “By my Crest, I turn you-”

Her speech was interrupted by a dagger being thrown near her neck, her eyes went from the dagger to the one who threw it.

“Desiree!” The exasperated voice of Flayn breathed out, the white haired female stareddaggers at the one she called her Mother.

“Do NOT finish the write! DO NOT! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!” The female dragon lunged at the other, pulling her off her throne and into the crumbling floor.

And she threw a punch at her face, fangs bared. “Thou shan’t recite the write! I will take your tongue for mine own!”

Diear just laughed. “Oh now THATS the daughter I know! Fight me daughter! Prove you are stronger!”

In an explosion of light and dust, two large dragons appeared in the ladies places. Diera was large, covered in whote and red scales to excentuate her status of a Blood Dragon.

Her daughter was different. Despite her white hair, her scales were a deep blue/purple colour, blending together to make her look like a mystical creature.

Well she was one.

The Professor moved their students away from the two dragons fighting as so no one could get injured. But the group had another problem on their hands.

“hey ummm....did anyone see where Maddi went?” Hilda quiered loudly, hooing to get an answer. The group has lost sight of the damsel they were supposed to be rescuing.

The large group of students, former students, slowly sukled around the large cathedral.

Ingrid noticed something. As she was standing next to Sylvain, a dear and close friend but a damn flirt and skirtchaser, he seemed. Stoic.

Uneasy.

Yes war in uneasy but this was a different unease.

As the two dragons continued to fight, a scream pierced the darkness. Blood curling.

Bone chilling.

In the darkness they could  see a pair of glowing yellow irises, staring right at them. Byleth stood ready to defend the students when Minette stood in front of them.

She had seen this before.

As did Sae.

As did Sylvain. 

As did Balthus.

Byleth only heard the rumors of Madilyn’s predicament.

According to Hanamen and Madilyn herself plus Desiree, the Crest of Diera demands blood every three months, to keep the curse at bay. Without feeding, the curse will begin to take control.

That’s what was happening now.

The darkness lunged at the cursed one, sounds of muffled cries and hissing filled the air, until the Aevis was thrown across the room at superhuman speed.

There was a loud crack against the stone.

The shadows dispersed revealing Lady Ambrosia, hands clawed, wings protruding from her back, the glowing Crest in the middle of her back.

Glowing dark red.

The two dragons who were fighting paused.

As if time itself stopped.

“No! Lady Madilyn! No!” the sea dragon cried out. Her Mother did get the last laugh after all.

The woman she spent years protecting had become what she dreaded.

----------

Darkness. All there was was darkness.

An inner carnal desire.

The hunger for blood.

but there was something.

Something else.

Filling the ringing in her ears.

She could see what she was doing, throwing her comrades aside but she could not stop herself! She didn’t want to hurt her friends.

Didn;t matter what house they used to belong too.

They were food for her now.

The ground rumbled as the two dragons continued to fight, the vampire threw more of her comrades to the floor, arrows pierced her sking but that did not matter.

She healed quickly.

In the back of her mind she was fighting with herself.

The one who wanted to feed and the one who didn’t want to hurt the people she loved.

The voice back in her mind was Diera, talling her to Feed on the Fell Star.

Fell...Star....

Byleth....Sothis.....

If she couldn’t find Serios. She’d take the next best thing.

The Professor realised that the brunette’s gaze fell upon them, they knew what to expect next. Sword at the ready, they would cut her down if need be.

But it seems that was not the case as a blur of red and armor dashed past on horseback to knock the vampire across the floor.

Buried under rubble.

The flapping of Pegasus wings filled the air. It was Ingrid. “Sylvain!”

It was Sylvain, who was on that horse who sent Ambrosia flying.

The rubble wouldn’t hold her long. “Ingrid. You and the Professor and the others need to help Desiree. I can do this myself”

The blonde was tempted to hit him in the face. What an idiot. “That sounds stupid! You could die!”

“What she needs is blood....” The raspy voice of Minette called out, being supported by the ever lovely Yuri, who kept whispering to her.

“Blood? Minette what do you know?” Ingrid asked the Aevis, the white haired blue eyed female ran her hand through her hair.

“She’s....not fully a vampire....” she expained through raspy breaths as the pile of rubble began to stir.

“She’s fighting with herself. On the inside I believe. If she just...just had enough blood she’d go back to normal.....”

“That’s your theory!?” Ingrid snapped. “She could kill one of us! Who do you think is going to offer themselves to her?”

The group fell quiet.

That’s when the sound of a horse filled the quiet and headed away.

“I guess that answered your question...Ingrid....Owch...Maddi did a number on me....” Minette grumbled as the sound of hooves faded away.

----------

Hands gripped the rubble throwing old stones away. As if he was looking for something he lost.

Well he kind of did.

Sylvain wouldn’t admit it but since those days in the Acadamey, while he was indeed chasing other women, when Madilyn arrived, he was kind of shocked.

He knew the Ambrosia house was a small house in the Kingdom, he didn’t expect such a beauty inside that house.

He wanted the girl whow would yell at him but laugh at him.

He wanted her back.

Not this snarling creature he is now face to face with.

She was clawing at his skin. Trying to maim him or blind him!

This isn’t the girl he remembered.

The one he secretly yearned for.

All those years.

Sure there was another for her heart.

He didn’t care. He was going to do this for her.

“Madilyn listen to me! This isn’t who you are!” his voice was like the point of a knife, digging into the skin.

He got a loud snarl in response.

He knew in those golden dark eyes the one he cared about was in there, so he had to get her attention some how before she either killed him or else. He lost a piece of his armor in the fight with the dragon Diera, exposing some skin.

That caught the vampires attention, fangs beared.

Until she froze in place.

Froze for a long time.

The golden amber hues in her eyes faded, returning to the earth brown that was warm and inviting.

her hands shook. Who knew how long she’d be left like this before the snarling hungry beast came back out?

“W-Where am I...?? What’s going on?” her eyes wandered nervously,feeling armored hands cup her cheeks, here earth toned eyes meeting the eyes of the infamous skirt chaser.

“Madilyn. Listen to me. You’re about to turn into a full vampire and if you don’t drink human blood you’ll be lost forever!”

This information was new to her. But she knew the hunger inside of her was rising. A loud ringing pain rang through her head which only worried the male more.

“B-But...I can’t...I don’t want to hurt humans anymore...I don’t want anymore blood....” she whimpered.

She looks so small. So fragile there. Which crushed his heart.

Cupping her chin, he lifted her head for her teary eyes to face him. 

“Why? You could die....”

Those words cut deep. very deep. “There is a chance I could kill my prey which is why I rendered them unconcious before I fed...Live victims struggle and that makes me scared, I’d hurt them...Drinking blood is a.....”

Her face turned bright pink.

“Is a.......what?”

“It’s an...intimate process” she mumbled out.

Intimate?

Is that why she fed on common thugs and hoodlums?

She couldn’t do this to someone she loved. But at this point she had no choice.

Madilyn was staring at her bloodied hands, from the blood pools she was sitting in, not even aware of the shifting of armor and body weight. When she lifted her head, she was shocked.

Shocked by lips against hers.

Her eyes squeezed shut, allowing herself to sink herself deeper into his body, lips molding together. His tongue prodded her lips as if asking for enterance, she obliged roaming around her mouth, dipping around her fangs.

She could have bit him there but she didn’t.

Her body felt warm, for the first time in a long while, fingers curled into those loose red locks.

A fire started low in her belly, she couldn’t act on it no. Not now.

Breaking apart, shallowed breaths between the pair, eyes glazed over. 

“S-Sylvain...I-I can’t! Please don’t make me!” She breathed out. She didn’t want to hurt him. What if she killed him?!?!?!

Her eye widened when she saw his exposed neck before her, she swallowed hard.

“Don’t.....please” Tears filled her eyes, he gave her a soft hearted smile. Oh his boyish charm shines through despite the hard 5 years.

“I trust you. You won’t hurt me. I know it.” He voiced dripped with confidence, warmth and love.

“You need to do it....I’d rather die then lose you to your curse” He said it with such vigor that’s when her eyes turned back into that golden black.

She pulled him close, breath fanning against the skin. It caused his breath to hitch. This was going to be painful.

“I’m sorry....” She whispered before her fangs sunk deep into his neck, quickly. Blood slowly dripped from the wound, more then she anticipated.

His haand was in her hair, curling tightly at the searing pain flowing through his burning body he kept her close however. He tugged on her locks slightly as if to pull her back to reality.

Her lips hungryily sucked, drawing more blood from the small punctures. 

“Easy there...easy...easy...” his voice was ragged, breathless as if this was some pre-initmate encounter making out.

her eyes flickered, the golden flecks slowly turning back into those earthy brown hues, her hunger gradually slowed.

“There....There we go...that’s my girl....”

Her face flushed, retracting her fangs from his neck. He was pale. Paler then normal.

But...he didn’t die!

“A-A-Are you alright...Are you alright?” She fell into his arms, holding his face with her hands.

He gave her a small smile, thumb rubbing the front of her hand.

“yeah....yeah I’m fine....You...you think you’re strong enough to fight?” he quiered, motioning to the two dragons still fighting each other.

“I think so.But you’re too weak....Feeding...makes prey weak”

“Oh nah I’m fine” he said confidently, only when he stood up he fell down. Madilyn sighed.

“You stay here and recover, I’ll go fight.” She said, placcing a hand on his shoulder as she whistled for her horse.

To take her into the fight.

Sykvain watched her ride off to the others, running his fingers over the punctures in his neck. They seemed to be healing quickly.

Wow.

It seems she’s amazing. As always.

He’s gonna have to tell her that.

He also doesn’t mind being marked for the time being. It saved her life.

[phaticserpent]

Playing with Fire

(Demigod! Reader x Ultron)

A/N: so apparently, Ultron killed Strucker and the Maximoff twins didn’t know. But I didn’t catch that.....so in this fanfic, they know. I’m too lazy to fix that, sorry

CHAPTER THREE

“That’s awful, for him putting you through that.” You stared at the twins. “I think death may be too merciful. How about torture?” You asked, lighting your hands on fire.

“Oh I like her.” Wanda smirked.

“I’m detecting movement behind.” Ultron informed and you peered through the back of the car. There was something alright, at least four glowing red eyes were gaining fast.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You growled. “It’s the Hellhounds......they probably followed me. Ever since I left camp, one of them got a nick of me.” You raised your pants to reveal a nasty bite on your ankles. The Maximoff twins gave you a concerned glance.

“You didn’t think of telling me that?” Ultron snarled. “You’re injured!”

“Eh, it heals quickly.” You dismissed it. “Stop the car. You guys keep going. They just want me.”

“And they’re not getting you.” Ultron said. “You’re stupid for thinking that I would leave you to be slaughtered.”

“I can handle them! Ultron!”

“You argue like married couple, no?” Pietro mentioned.

“No!” You and Ultron yelled in unison. The sentry stepped on the acceleration, and you could see the red eyes of the Hellhounds fade away. The entire car ride was utter silence until the destination point was reached. The Maximoff twins slid out of the car, but Ultron stopped you.

“Roll up your pants.” He said.

“Ultron—“

“Please.” He urged. You did so, wincing at his touch on your leg. “Thankfully, it’s not infected. You’ve been walking on this leg?”

“Yeah?”

“My gods, [Y/N].” Ultron sighed. He pulled out a first aid kit.

“You know that’s not necessary......I have a couple of ambrosia and nectar back at your lair.” You insisted. Ultron raised his eyebrow at you and your mouth closed. He pulled out a cotton swab and gently applied solution on the bite, you hissed at the stinging sensation. After the solution dried, he began wrapping your ankle with ace bandages. “Thank you......you didn’t have to.”

“Mm, I don’t have to do anything.” Ultron chuckled. “But I always find myself doing them anyways.”

“Yeah I get that, let’s go inside.” You suggested and the two of you followed after the Maximoff twins. Ultron ripped the cell door, where, who you assumed to be Strucker, was sitting on the bed. He looked at Wanda and Pietro with hope.

“You came to rescue me!” Strucker smiled, but Wanda and Pietro didn’t return the gesture. His eyes swept to you. “Oh, who are you?”

“No one.” You answered. “Okay, but can I please torture him? He looks like a pervert.” You asked Ultron as Wanda snorted. Strucker opened his mouth for some form of retort when Ultron stepped up.

“What do you know about Ulysses Klaue?” He growled, pressing his face close to Strucker. “If you don’t spill everything, I will have [Y/N] personally rip you apart.” Strucker peered around Ultron to look at you and scoffed.

“Her? I doubt she has the capability to hurt a fly.” Strucker laughed. Ultron turned to you and you made your way to the prisoner, grabbing the collar of his shirt. Your eyes meeting his, smirking at the fear that were clear in his eyes.

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t hurt a fly but I wouldn’t hesitate turning a piece of shit like you into ashes.” You growled and that’s when Strucker screamed, his clothes set ablaze from your hand. Pietro let out a whistle of appreciation.

“Okay okay! I’ll tell you about Ulysses!” Strucker begged. “He stole a supply of Vibranium from Wakanda, and keeps it in a densely abandoned marsh.”

“Where?”

“He’s in Salvage Yard, Africa. The ship he currently inhabits is named, ‘Churchill’.” Strucker informed. Ultron stepped back and nodded before shooting Strucker’s life away. You sighed, a bit disappointed at the quick death but somewhat pitied him. The three of you watched as Ultron dip his fingers in Strucker’s blood, spelling out the word, ‘peace.’ You snapped a picture in which Ultron had you send it to him, and he forwarded it to the Avengers as a ‘message.’

“Dramatic much?” You teased and Ultron let out a gentle chuckle. You froze when the vehicle you al had taken to get here was surrounded with black hounds, that was sniffing the automobile. “Fuck.” One snapped its head to you, snarling as their teeth glinted.

“We got you.” Wanda smiled. “You won’t be alone when facing monsters. So how do they find you?”

“Demigods have a strong scent, but the stronger you are, the more.....’tastier’ you smell. It varies from monster to monster, hellhounds are just common. Every demigod faces them and probably the leading causes to young demigods dying.” You explained. “They’re a beginner.”

“A beginner? Love, this is advanced.” Pietro let out a nervous laughter. “You say young demigods die, how young?”

“The minute they’re born, they’re in immediate danger. There are many out there that never made it to camp.....dying before the age of 10.” You dropped your head. “Some, like me, who make it to the age of 20 are rare.” One Hellhound leaped, baring it’s fangs are you but Ultron kicked it away. His crimson eyes scanning you curiously.

“It’s okay, we can fight them.” Wanda assured. “Like I said, you won’t be alone in this fight.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and unsheathed your knife, setting the blade on fire. The Hellhounds attacked and you plunged the knife into one’s back. You felt another ram into you from the side, breaking your balance and the hellhound took this chance to pin you down. Its fangs inches from your face. You grabbed its snout, lighting your hands on fire as it spread and engulfed the hound in heated ember. “Let’s get into the van!” You shouted, beckoning at the vehicle that was free from hellhounds. Ultron sent a sentry to initiate the vehicle and everyone crammed in.

“That was close.” Wanda sighed.

“No one was hurt, right?” You asked, a bit anxious but relaxed when everyone shook their head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Wanda claimed. “It’s not your fault you’re a demigod, any other monsters we should be aware of?”

“Yes, a lot. Monsters can often disguise themselves as people. No one can be trusted. Then there are stymphalian birds, they’re killed by loud noises. But beware their beaks which are made of metal.” You warned. “Or sometimes their entire body is metal. They’re a pain in the ass to try and kill. Empousai’s go after male demigods, so I don’t need to worry about that. The Minotaur and manticore haven’t been seen for years, I doubt they’ll come back.”

“So Greek stories are true, who knew?” Pietro sighed.

“You have no idea.” You laughed. “Just imagine my reaction, I’m eleven years old in my garage when I see a flock of big birds are on the power line right across from me. When they had noticed that I noticed, that’s when they attacked. I just thought those were ordinary birds, until I grabbed one and was met with a sharp blades. So I ran. I honestly didn’t even know where I was going, but my legs were determined. I didn’t even notice that I entered Camp Half Blood until I bumped into another camper, completely out of breath.”

“Oh my, how long have you been running?”

“Just two hours, I lived in Albany, New York and CHB is in Long Island.”

“What about your parents?” Wanda asked.

“I grew up with no father, just my mother. She was worried, but relieved that I survived. Turns out, I wasn’t born in New York like I was told. I was born in Greece, my mom knew how dangerous it would be and she knew she couldn’t protect me. So she moved to Albany, New York. Near the camp.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Is it? I think your story seems more heartbreaking than mine.” You and the Maximoff twins argued about whos background story was more tragic, they said yours was and you said theirs. This continued till you reached Ultron’s hiding point, which was the abandoned Hydra base. Wanda and Pietro returned to their rooms as you and Ultron walked together in silence. He watched as you return to your work on one of his sentries. He found it peculiar how you were creating three simultaneously, like a factory machine.

“What is it like to be a demigod?” Ultron abruptly asked.

“Cursed.” You laughed at your answer. “But yeah, I just feel......like my entire life is just one big tragic story. And the story is by multiple assholes, the gods and the Fates.” You worked for an hour and completed at least twenty of Ultron’s clones.

“You work fast.” Ultron observed. “You need to rest, we’ll be heading for Ulysses in a few moments.” You took this time to crack your back, neck, and fingers.

“My gods that felt good.” You whooped. “Why do you need to know where Ulysses is?”

“To get vibranium from him.”

“What’s vibranium?”

“The strongest metal on the earth.”