#oh wait i also have to recruit the Furry Child

[clarissaexplainingitall]

camille has gotten me dead sunk into fire emblem awakening and i haven’t been this emotionally invested in characters in a while

romanced chrom bc it was clearly the canon thing, plus my morgan is an unstoppable force of nature now. he’s getting hitched to noire, who now has a wonderful support network comprised of libra, morgan, and also me, and tharja and libra are very good for each other and i am happy

but libra!noire + chrom!morgan is the power couple of the year holy fuck

[galahadwilder]

Unwise

Ch. 2: In Which Too Many People Turn Patrols Into Dates

Happy birthday @alexseanchai! You wanted more Unwise? Here you go!

*

Convincing Fu to let her bring out the other Miraculi on a semi-permanent basis had been a chore in and of itself. Feast had proven the depth of his paranoia—though, to be fair, it’s not technically paranoia if people are actually out to get you—and she wasn’t prepared to lose Tikki a second time. He’d refused to allow her to bring out more Miraculi, until she’d forcefully reminded him that A. she is a full-fledged Guardian now, he’d said that himself, and B. She, a child, is the one on the front lines while he hides. (She hates bringing that up, because she knows why he’s doing it, but it was that or go insane.)

Eventually, he’d relented, though he’d let her take only the ones who’d already proven themselves. Which was fine, it wasn’t like she was planning on doing any recruiting anytime soon.

She’d been planning to hand out all of the Miraculi herself, as usual, but as soon as she’d had them in her hands she’d paused, reconsidered. Chat was right—trying to do everything herself has been driving her insane. She already knows that, if she goes down, Chat can take the earrings and Mister Bug it up—or, in an emergency situation, just Cataclysm a butterfly and wait for her to get back up—so there’s a little bit of the weight off there. But the fact is, he was originally never supposed to know the identities of any of the backup, and if she were to have gone down in that situation he’d have been left to continue the fight alone in a way that she never would. The thought makes her want to vomit.

And she can’t deny that the way Chat’s face lit up when she asked him to help her distribute the Miraculi had done something funny in her tummy. Not love, of course, nor attraction—absolutely not that, stop laughing Tikki—but something. She’d laid out all of the Miraculi Fu had let her take on their favorite rooftop, then, after a moment’s consideration, handed him the Horse, the Bee, and the Dragon (she’d briefly passed her hand over the snake, but she saw the way he tried to suppress a shudder; curious as his reaction made her, she knew she couldn’t let herself think about what that was about, lest she learn something she shouldn’t).

She picked up the Fox, the Snake, the Turtle, and the Mouse, then paused, thought, made a decision. “You already know who the mouse is,” she said. “If you ever need an illusionist, and I’m not there to help you...” She held up the foxtail necklace. “This one goes to the Ladyblogger.”

Chat froze. “My Lady,” he said, the Dragon choker dangling between his claws, “are you... sure I should know this?”

She nodded. “You said yourself, I can’t keep doing this alone,” she said. “You’re my partner.”

There’d been no big meeting; someone might’ve noticed that Multimouse wasn’t there, and that would lead to questions she doesn’t want to answer. She’d made a list of reasons why, but surprisingly, Chat had asked for none of them, simply agreeing with her out of hand.

The whole thing is going swimmingly, and yet she can’t help feeling guilty about how she’d arranged the patrols. She’d insisted on not letting Rena Rouge and Carapace patrol together, since there was no way either of them could tear away from each other in a non-emergency situation, so for the first two few nights she’d rotated them through everyone but each other, just to keep from ill-advised makeouts. And yet, here she is, having intentionally arranged herself on patrol with Adrien...

God, she’s a hypocrite.

She can honestly say that after a week of letting other holders cover patrols, she’s more rested than she’s been in a while. But she’s done so many stupid things to spend time with Adrien, it’s not like one more will make a difference at this point, right? And at least this way she’s doing something productive with it. She hopes. If she can, you know, actually hold it together around him to do anything.

“Tikki,” she groans into her hands, her elbows propped on her desk. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.” The cursor blinks on the anonymous Google schedule she’s been sharing with the team, waiting for her to confirm the time of her first patrol as Multimouse. Her first patrol with Adrien. She wonders, idly, what he’ll choose for his name.

Tikki sighs from her spot on Marinette’s pincushion, rolling a chocolate chip between her paws. “I don’t know,” she says. “Master Fu had very good reasons not to let the rest of us out of the box, but you also have very good reasons.” She looks up at Marinette, her blue eyes shining with compassion. “I do worry about you.”

“I’m just happy to be out and about,” Mullo says, climbing onto Marinette’s phone and poking the screen with delight. “So much new technology! I didn’t get to see this last time you wore me.”

“Not that,” Marinette says, dropping her hands onto the desk—then she tilts her head. “Well, yes that, but not what I’m asking about right now.” She sighs, staring at the calendar block. “Am I being... selfish, with this schedule?”

Tikki purses her lips, then turns the chocolate chip on its side and starts rolling it back and forth on the desk beneath one paw, staring at it pensively.

“Tikki?” Marinette whispers.

Tikki grimaces. “You know you’re not supposed to use your powers for personal gain,” she says. “I’ve told you before.”

Marinette swallows. “I remember,” she whispers.

Tikki tilts her head. “On the other hand,” she says, “this might be more practical than you think.”

Marinette blinks. “What?”

“If he is going to be a full-time member of the team, it might help to acclimate yourself to his presence?” Tikki says, a small smile spreading across her face. “We wouldn’t want you to start tripping over your words in the middle of combat.” She flings the chocolate chip straight up, then launches her tiny body from the desk, swallowing it in a single gulp in a manner reminiscent of the poster for Jaws.

“Hey!” Marinette protests. “I did fine last time!”

“You said one sentence and you had to use Sass to practice it eight times first,” Tikki says with a smug grin, crossing her arms.

Marinette bites her lip, then rolls her eyes. “You see how mean she is to me?” she says to Mullo.

“Hm? What?” the rat says, her head perking up and twisting back and forth. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by this...” Her turns back to the phone, where she’s been swiping between app pages with wide eyes. “Um, magic screen thing.”

Tikki giggles. “Not everything humans do is magic, Mullo.” She flits around to Marinette’s eye level. “Marinette. The day I told you not to use your powers for personal gain? That was our third time out. I didn’t know you then. I do now.” She reaches out, laying her palm on Marinette’s cheek. “You’ve grown into a responsible and professional young woman, and Master Fu has selected you to be the next Guardian.” She floats back. “I trust your judgment. And besides, you deserve a break.” She gestures to the computer screen, where the calendar is still waiting, unfinished. “If this is what you want to do? Then you should do it.”

Marinette swallows as tears brim in her eyes. “I—thank you, Tikki,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Tikki says, zipping forward to hug Marinette’s cheek again. “I love you so much, Marinette.”

“I love you too,” Marinette says, cupping her Kwami to her cheek with her palm.

“Oh my Guardians!” Mullo sobs. “You—you two— you are...” She rolls over onto her back, letting out a tiny melodramatic wail. “Your friendship is so perfect!”

Tikki snorts, backing away from Marinette’s cheek. “Okay. Back down there, Squeakers.”

Marinette sets her jaw, looking at the screen. “So,” she says, “I’m doing this?”

Tikki nods. Mullo rolls back onto her stomach, looking back at her expectantly.

Marinette nods back. “I’m doing this,” she says, and presses her finger down on Enter.

*

This was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake—

Sapis (who looks amazing in his costume, his gossamer half-cape floating off his back, furry cuffs on his wrists, black streaks in his carefully styled hair to resemble antennae—oh, she’s going to be gushing about this to Tikki later) is looking at her with eyes like the night sky, golden irises inset on black sclera, and she feels all the breath leave her body. She’s seen enough of Adrien’s patented “Soft Eyes” in candid shots from Alya that she thought she’d be immune, but nope, photographs have in no way prepared her for the real thing. Sweet Kwamis, she’s going to die and she hasn’t even said a word to him yet.

Say something, Ladybug, she tells herself. But under Sapis’ gaze, in Multimouse’s suit that she’s suddenly aware came out far more cute than her usual reassuringly minimalist design, she doesn’t feel like Ladybug, so when she opens her mouth, she only manages to squeak.

Nice, she thinks, mentally kicking herself. Well done. Very professional.

“H-hi!” she yelps. “Are you, um...” She grips her elbow, her free hand playing with the tail of the jump rope tied around her waist. “Queen Bee’s replacement?”

“Yep,” he says in an exaggeratedly deep voice. He takes a Superman stance, pressing his fists to his hips, and turns his eyes dramatically to look somewhere slightly behind her. It looks generally ridiculous, and he clearly knows it. “Sapis, at your service.”

“Sapis?” she says, squinting one eye, trying to remember if she knows what that means in Latin. Sagesse... that’s the same root, right? “Wisdom?”

His whole face lights up, and her heart leaps in her chest. “Old Latin pun,” he says. “Si sapis, sis apis.” He steps forward, holding out a hand. “If you’re wise? Be a bee.”

She stares at him, looking at his hand, then his face, then his hand, then his face. She has—she knows what she’s supposed to do here, but this is Adrien trying to introduce himself, and she knows it’s him, and he doesn’t know it’s her, and she has to get this impression exactly right. The joke is stupid, silly, it’s so very Chat Noir that she’s caught off guard and suddenly her chest is bubbling, she’s laughing, and oh god is he going to think that she’s laughing at him? Is he going to be disappointed? Is he going to be crushed? Oh Kwamis, is he going to hate her forever?

And then his eyes shut, and he giggles, pure and clear, and it’s just like that moment after the umbrella closed on her head. Lightning strikes in her heart all over again, and it’s everything she can do not to fall on her steadily reddening face.

Finally, he calms down, but when his golden-black eyes turn back to her he’s still beaming. “So,” he says, gesturing to her necklace, “Chat Noir tells me you’re really good with that thing.”

She reaches up, fingers it nervously. “I—pretty good, yeah.”

Sapis grins, hoisting his trompo. “Wanna show me what you’ve got?”

A slow, sly grin spreads across her face in answer as she reaches for her jump rope, the confidence building in her chest. This is familiar territory. This, she can handle. “You’re on, bee boy.”

Adrien wants to see what she can do? He won’t even know what hit him.

[thegreenfairy13]

Dog Sitter Part 12 - A Simple Truth

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here.

Oswald stares at the little creature sitting in his lap. It would be a stretch to say this white, fluffy thing is a dog. The tiny, furry ball rather reminds the mobster of a marshmallow exploded in a microwave - sprinkled with three black dots for its eyes and nose.

Curiously, the little Pomeranian darts out its tongue and licks the kingpin’s hand. Oswald flinches.

“That tickles,” he chuckles.  

The dog ignores him. Yawning wholeheartedly, it makes itself comfortable on the Penguin’s thigh.

Oswald pets the small creature absentmindedly. Now that he’s in the back of his limo, on the way to Jim Gordon, he starts to doubt his actions.

His mother would definitely not be pleased with him. A living, breathing thing is certainly not suited as a gift, she would say. It’s irresponsible, she would say. Ironically, an adjective Oswald often used to describe the man he intends to give the dog to. Yet according to Bullock, the adjective should be replaced by suicidal.

But what if the Detective got it wrong? Could this endeavor end the fragile truce he managed to establish with the Captain? In the past, Jim never reacted kindly when Oswald tried to form a friendship with him. His efforts always ever earned him insults and rejection.

The definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So why should Jim accept a tiny dog from him?

But then this is not only about Oswald’s vain desire to keep Jim Gordon - poisonous, toxic, dangerous Jim Gordon - in his life. This is primarily about the man himself. Oswald would never be able to forgive himself if he knew Jim was walking into his fate without trying to rescue him.

He saved his life already too often. In his eyes, Jim is his responsibility. He owes Jim. And Jim owes him in return. He would always owe him for all the times he wronged Oswald and Oswald would always owe him for that damned day on the pier. The Penguin’s fate is inseparably intertwined with the Captain’s. For better or worse.

The Penguin won’t allow the Captain to die at his own hands. If anyone had ever earned their right to kill Jim Gordon, it’s him and only him. In his eyes, he not only owes him. He owns him.

He is his cop. Just as he is his gangster. For whatever reason, they can’t stop chasing each other. Maybe Jim Gordon is his own personal hell. Maybe they have both died a long time ago and now they are doomed to chase one another, and whenever one catches the other, their game begins anew for all eternity.

Together, they had turned Gotham into what it is today. They had both left their marks and made their impact. Yet, while the Penguin strives for money, power, and order, Jim strives for justice, safety, and order. Their constant game of push and pull brought the city to the brink of destruction and keeps it in balance.

Jim Gordon is keeping Gotham from being taken over by gangsters and corruption. The Penguin keeps it from plunging into chaos.

Gotham is a city like no other. She is not just an accumulation of streets, cars, and buildings. She is a living, breathing being. A monster drawn to the darkness. Gotham needs her gangsters, she needs the order only established by fear and violence. But she also needs men who keep her from falling into the abyss. Men who keep the peace, who hold her back from going too far, and destroying herself. Men like Jim Gordon.

Exhaling wearily through his nose, Oswald disturbs the dog sleeping in his lap. The Pomeranian stares reproachfully at him while chewing the hem of his suit jacket.

“Oh, no,” the mobster scolds while detaching the creature from the garment. Unimpressed, the dog starts chewing on his finger.

“Ouch!” he yelps. Staring angrily at the fluffy thing, he places it back in its bag. “I’m not an oversized rubber toy,” he chides, earning himself a heartwrenching whine from the Pomeranian.

“Oh, don’t do that to me,” he grumbles. “You’re not supposed to get attached to me anyway. You’re supposed to cheer up an old friend of mine up. Don’t worry,” he carries on. “He’ll take good care of you in return. I hope, at least,” he whispers.

When the car stops, Oswald has almost lost his courage. Jim is probably absolutely fine and Bullock was just overreacting. This whole visit is only going to end in an argument and if he’s really unlucky, with Jim starting new investigations against him.

Picking up the dog carrier, he exits the limousine. It’s not too late to turn back, he muses, while his feet already carry him down the slippery stairs. Once again, it’s raining in Gotham. This entire city is always enshrouded by a thick blanket of darkness as if an eternal winter had settled over all of them.

Oswald knocks once and almost turns on his heel when the door doesn’t open instantly. He’s too slow though with his bad leg. He would have been too slow with a healthy leg, too.

“Cobblepot,” Jim growls angrily and the mobster cringes. They’re obviously back on a second name basis and judged by the look the Captain shoots him, he’s anything but happy to see him.

“Did you lose your dog again?” he growls unkindly, while at the same time opening the door further, allowing the Penguin to come in.  

Swallowing hard, the kingpin shakes his head. Jim’s eyes snap up. “Your kid then?”

Oswald wonders how the cop’s voice can sound anymore deeper than usual. It’s not even a human voice anymore but the low rumble of a beast ready to attack. The thought alone of an innocent being in danger, even if it is a murderer’s child, sets the Captain’s teeth on edge. He stares into Jim’s stormy eyes, sees the rage lurking deep in those blue orbits, and hopes he’ll never have to learn the full force of his wrath.

“Nothing as abysmal,” he responds lightly. Oswald smiles then because he always smiles when being uncertain.

Jim studies him for a long moment before he nods. He’s probably making sure the Penguin doesn’t lie. “Why are you here then?” he demands to know.

The cop walks into his kitchen, sure the kingpin will follow. And it’s exactly what Oswald does. He would follow Jim anywhere after all, wouldn’t he?

Subtly scanning the room, Oswald assesses the state of the flat and his doubts tenfold. This is not the apartment of a man who lost his will to live - quite the contrary. The place is still tidy, still nicely furnished. There’s nothing lying around apart from a white shirt dropped carelessly beside a door Oswald assumes to be leading to the bathroom.  

Leaning over the counter, Jim hands him his usual cup of tea. It’s still the weirdly oversized mug the cop always uses when he visits. He wonders if he gets it because Jim wouldn’t even drink accidentally from it.

“So?” the Detective asks, arching a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“I like how you redecorated your home,” Oswald answers. Before he can stop himself he blurts out, “And still so clean.”

Jim snorts. “You mean a clean place is very much unlike me? Or any cop for the matter?”

Opening and closing his mouth, Oswald tries thinking of a reply.

“Well, you might be right. The maid has only been yesterday.” The bastard has the audacity to laugh at the Penguin.

Filling his own cup with coffee, Jim gestures toward the living room.

“Maid?” Oswald echoes incredulously while taking a seat on the man’s new sofa. Well, not that new anymore. He places the bag containing the small Pomeranian beside him and waits for Jim to follow.

“Yes, maid,” he confirms while making himself comfortable in a chair opposite the mobster. “In the long run, I’m indeed useless at keeping this place tidy.”

“How can you afford a maid?” Oswald blurts out unthinkingly.

To his credit, Jim merely looks bemused. “I’m the Captain of the GCPD. Not a welfare-case,” he replies.

Considering the number of bribes he regularly pays the other cops, Oswald highly doubts that statement. He wisely keeps that thought to himself.

“But I hardly think you came here for my impeccable taste regarding interior design or to recruit my maid,” Jim spats sarcastically.

Taking a sip from his tea, the kingpin glares at the cop. The man is as unmanageable as always, rude even. On top, his worries seem to have been entirely uncalled for. No way in hell this stubborn bastard would ever entertain the thought of killing himself!

No, Oswald coming here is only going to end their truce and Jim would start chasing him for the murder of Brian Gold. The Penguin would end up in prison again and his Martin would become an orphan.

How could he have been so stupid? Had all of this just been a trap set up by Bullock and Gordon to lure him out here? To break their arrangement without Jim being the culprit? It wouldn’t be the first time the Captain had played him in such a despicable way. But then, if Jim wanted to go after him, he simply would, all promises aside.

“You sent Harvey Bullock,” the kingpin starts thoughtfully. This had been a bad idea. He should leave instantly, he thinks. Taking in Jim’s calm expression, he starts getting certain this had indeed been a trap. Rage starts slowly cursing through his veins, blocking out each and every rational thought. He has been betrayed again and Martin would pay the price.

“I still honor our arrangement,” Jim responds angrily.

“You obviously don’t!” he spats back, involuntarily already reaching for his cane. “We both know Bullock turning up at my place is as good as you coming.”

“And we both know that is not quite true,” the cop growls, slowly rising to his feet.

“Not true?!” the Penguin exclaims. “He’s practically your right hand.”

“And your left,” Jim replies, catching the mobster off guard.

Tilting his chin petulantly, Oswald explodes into a rant. “His loyalties have always been with you. And now you’re sending him to take me down again, to drag me to the ground, to turn my child into an orphan…”

Placing a firm hand against his chest, the cop interrupts his tirade. “I sent Harvey because I had to be certain Brian Gold’s death would not be the beginning of another turf war,” he tells him earnestly.

The cop’s gaze is soft, remorseful even when removing his hand and dropping it to his side. “I’m almost positive you had nothing to do with this death,” he admits softly.

Oswald’s eyes widen in surprise. “Then why?” he stutters, unable to process how Jim, for once, doesn’t believe him to be guilty. The rage slowly abates, allowing his brain functions to come back online.

Jim shrugs. “Could have been someone who wants to impress you. Someone who heard Martin talking about what happened. If that’s the case, Gold’s side would retaliate. And you’d have to defend whoever was responsible.”

Sitting back down, Jim rubs his temples. “I’m so done with turf wars,” he mumbles wearily. “Nothing but revenge and blood.”

“Eye for an eye and the world goes blind,” Oswald quotes.

Looking up sharply, the cop nods.

“How can you know I had nothing to do with Gold’s death?” he can’t help asking suspiciously.

“I would have never found him,” Jim merely replies. Leaning back in his chair, the cop heaves a long, heavy sigh.

For a moment, Oswald only weighs the cane in his hand, the little dog beside him in the bag long forgotten. “I can promise there’s no turf war coming,” he finally admits.

“Then I really don’t know why we’re still having a conversation.” Leaning forward the Captain places his cup on the table and readies himself to throw his unwanted guest out.

A ray of Gotham’s rare sunlight filters through the window, highlighting the man’s ashen face. It must have stopped raining at some point, Oswald muses while studying Jim’s features. His cheekbones are for once clearly visible, standing out so prominently he could cut himself on them. His eyes are bloodshot and his lips dried out, almost gray from constantly chewing on them, and pressed into a tight line.

The way Jim moves is jerky, erratic almost. He’s constantly on the edge, ready to jump up at any given moment, but once seated, he looks like a puppet with their strings cut.

Oswald could leave right now. And maybe he should just take this gift Jim had given him, an honest ceasefire, and return back home. The man never claimed to be his friend, made it clear time and time again he doesn’t want him in his life, so why pressure him?

“Bullock believes I’m threatening you,” Oswald informs him, his hand already on the doorknob.

The cop doesn’t even flinch. At first, the gangster believes Jim hasn’t heard him. Turning around, he looks back. Gordon is standing behind him, eyes trained intently at his face.

“I already told him that’s not the case,” he tells him quietly.

“He doesn’t seem to believe you,” the gangster quips.

Jim frowns. “He will,” he states determinedly.

“He also believes you want to kill yourself because of my alleged, evil machinations.”

If possible, Jim looks even more displeased. “I already told you he won’t believe that anymore once everything is said and done.”

“So it’s true then?”

Gordon shrugs. “I’ll be keeping my promise. I’ll stay away from you and your kid.” His voice is harsh. He pauses for a moment. “How’s the dog?” he demands to know. The question comes out like an order.

“Ed is fine,” the mobster replies gently. He feels movement in the bag he’s holding and when looking at Jim, Oswald makes up his mind.

“Speaking of Ed. I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of him.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Jim interrupts him.

“I feel like it is.” He chuckles nervously and wonders what he must look like to Jim. A small, seemingly insecure man, with greasy hair who always laughs too often, too obnoxiously. “I have a little gift for you.”

“You know I can’t accept presents from you.” The other man is clearly annoyed. Pushing past Oswald, he opens the door.

“It’s nothing I paid money for,” the Penguin consoles him with a devilish smirk. Holding up the bag, he offers it to Jim. “Careful!” he warns.

Jim stares at the bag as if it was a bomb he asked him to dismantle.

“What is this?” he inquires suspiciously, but dutifully opening the zipper, he reaches inside.

When Jim Gordon picks up the tiny dog, he’s speechless. Oswald had been certain he would have to fend off a flood of words once he sees the little creature but Jim stays silent. Cradling the fluffy ball carefully in his hands, he exhales a shuddering breath.

The small dog takes a curious sniff and promptly sneezes. The Captain laughs. And for once, he sounds carefree, relieved.

“Oh, I’ll have to get another cologne, won’t I?” he chuckles while pressing a little kiss to the top of the dog’s head.

Gently putting the dog on the ground, Jim observes how it starts fearlessly exploring his apartment. Already completely enamored, the cop runs after the dog. “I guess he needs water,” he coos excitedly and promptly fills a bowl.

Smiling fondly, Oswald follows him back to the kitchen where Jim is already busy fussing over the dog.

“I got it from an animal shelter,” he explains. “That way, you won’t have to worry I gave you something pricey.”

The cop hardly acknowledges him. “You can call this one Chester,” the mobster suggests with a mischievous smile.

“Chester,” Jim replies thoughtfully. “Yeah, I should probably do that,” he adds, his smile growing wider.

Yet all of a sudden, the man’s face falls. “I can’t keep him,” he whispers, looking longingly at the little one.

Oswald frowns. “I thought you liked him?” he asks, a tad bit angry. “If that is about me being…”

Jim stops him. The expression on his face is raw, honest - and entirely broken. “That’s the most beautiful, thoughtful gift I ever received in my entire life.”

Oswald’s breath hitches in his throat. He would have expected any answer but this. It’s not like Jim’s response makes sense, yet the sheer amount of passion in his voice makes his knees go weak.

“Thank you,” Jim whispers. “He’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you want him though?” Oswald needs to know, entirely at a loss.

“I want him,” Gordon reassures him. “I just can’t keep him.” A wistful expression crosses his face when gently picking up the dog and handing it back to Oswald. “It would be irresponsible,” he elaborates with a lopsided grin.

Despite Jim’s nonchalant demeanor, hearing Jim describing himself as irresponsible feels like a stab to Oswald’s heart. Especially, with the other man being so serious about it. He wants to contradict, opens his mouth even, but Jim merely smiles sadly at him and shakes his head.

“There’s no need to be polite about it, Oswald,” he tells him firmly. “I lost control a long time ago. I won't drag an innocent being down with me. You already said it yourself, didn’t you?” Jim’s mouth twitches, he almost looks victorious.

“I didn’t mean that,” the former umbrella-boy protests unconvincingly, insecurely, and Jim grunts. Oswald wonders why he’s never steadfast when it comes to what is most important to him. He’s cunning and suave in each and every negotiation but when dealing with people he cares for, his silver tongues remains silent.

Jim snorts derisively. “I’m responsible for my ex-fiancee losing our child. I’m not a man who should ever look after a living creature.”

Oswald wants to interrupt him but for once, the Captain’s armor cracks.

“What did I ever achieve?” he asks. “What good did I ever do? Before my arrival in Gotham, the city was corrupt to its core, yet stable. I brought even more violence to Gotham, I jumbled up the old order but what for? Is this city any less rotten? Have crime-rates gone down?”

Taking in a shuddering breath, he continues. “I thought a war against you, brought Sofia Falcone here, but what for? I fought fire with fire and wondered why everything exploded. My actions led nowhere, Oswald!” He’s outright screaming at this point.

“This city is being held together by your organization, and whenever I drag you down, worse men, more cruel men follow. It took me too long to realize that, and others paid a terrible price. Lee, our baby, colleagues, friends, you! I sent you to Arkham -  for nothing! And for whatever reason, I’m coming out unscathed, always. And now, after everything I did, you’re giving me a present? I don’t deserve this, I can’t have this…”

“Jim…,” Oswald utters helplessly but the other man doesn’t want to hear it. He simply stares into the distance, unable to react to his own name.

But what should he say anyway? How could he ever make him understand how deeply he feels about him, despite all his flaws. He admires Jim, regards him as his hero, his knight in shining armor. He is the last honest man, the only man who still has morals, integrity. Jim never adapted to Gotham’s rules, he always stayed true to himself, fought his war and carried on like the honorable soldier he is.

The Penguin though had always been able to determine when a man is utterly broken, when he’s beyond repair, and ready to receive the final blow. When making business, this is the moment for him to strike. It’s a crucial point. If he attacks right now, victory will be his. The Penguin exploits weaknesses and Jim Gordon is so very, very weak right now.

And it’s also the very moment the Penguin, the selfish, reckless bastard, and Oswald Cobblepot, the hopeless romantic, truly become one and attack.

Oswald doesn’t even think, just leans forward and encircles Jim’s waist. He’s utterly inexperienced but he knows exactly what and who he wants and when he can have it.

Pressing his lips against the other man’s, he silences Jim’s self-loathing tirade. He pushes past his barriers, practically forces his tongue into his mouth until Jim has no other choice but to surrender.

It’s not even a kiss at first, more a battle for dominance Oswald is intent on winning, but then Jim’s arms embrace him and he’s being pulled against his chest. Afterward, there’s nothing but heat and want.

Oswald wants, wants, wants.

Jim walks him backward, to the blue sofa in his living room, and pushes. And then he feels his weight pressing him down, the heat emanating from his body. He inhales his fresh, clean cologne and closes his eyes.

Somewhere beside him, the little dog barks, but it doesn’t matter. They’ll feed him later, or take him for a walk, or do whatever the creature wants.

His long fingers curl desperately into Jim’s shirt, crumpling the fabric. He doesn’t care. He simply wants to tear it off, have the man beneath the fabric finally for himself. Frantic little gasps and moans escape his throat, undignified sounds he would be ashamed off under any other circumstances.

Even now, Oswald is greedy. Even when Jim is kissing him along his throat he needs more, desires more. His legs are being pushed apart and he gasps. He has to say something, wants Jim to know what he feels.

Before he can stop himself, the words tumble from his lips, a truth he can’t contain anymore. It’s the reason for Jim still being alive despite everything he did and what he would be doing in the future. A most simple truth, quite obvious, really.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chants between kisses, effectively breaking whatever spell the Captain is under.

Jim stills above him, stops moving entirely and pulls back enough to look at his face. His expression is unreadable despite the flush creeping up his face and his wide, lust-blown eyes. Or Oswald could just never read the cop. He fails whenever it comes to one Jim Gordon, over and over again.

“I know,” Jim whispers, barely audible.

Oswald expects Gordon to jump to his feet now, to throw him out of his flat and to pretend this never ever happened. Instead, he moves his body just enough to lie somewhat comfortably beside him. His eyes are almost black when they stare back at him.

The Penguin is trapped between a heavy body and a backrest. He wants to bolt. He never wants to move again.

The silence stretches, becoming unbearable in the process until Oswald can’t help laughing. He’s laughing like a maniac, like the psychopath he is. If you can’t cry, you simply have to laugh, right?

“I have a way to ruin the mood,” he chuckles, his voice cutting through the room like one of his knives. “But you, you,” he laughs, almost crying. “ I know ,” he screams. Cause seriously, is there anything worse to say?

Jim rolls onto his back, mutely staring at the ceiling.

“Say something!” Oswald orders. Once again, he had been a fool. An idiot wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Like?” the other man asks.

And there it is again. Rejection, his old friend.

“I don’t,” he answers jokingly. His voice sounds broken even to his own ears.

Jim’s eyes snap back up to his face, then to the pale, long fingers still lying on his chest.

“Did anyone ever tell you, you have beautiful hands?” he asks instead. Tugging at his wrist, he pulls the murderer beside him onto his chest.

“No.” Oswald grimaces.

“You do,” Jim reassures him.

The mobster rolls his eyes. “Just get over with it and tell me you don’t reciprocate the sentiment.

“I can’t,” he rumbles with a voice seemingly coming straight out of the deepest pits of hell.

The gangster gets angry, impatient. “Why not?” he demands to know.

“It would be a lie,” he simply replies, complete with a little shrug.

Oswald’s breath hitches in his throat. “So you…?” He can’t even finish the sentence.

Jim falls silent, entwines their fingers instead while studying his wrist with great interest. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” he whispers while shaking his head.

“Why not?” Oswald has to know. Even if he got more than he could have ever dreamed off. Especially now, when he had almost gotten everything he wanted but not quite.

The cop beneath him laughs softly. “You would think it would mean I’d make you happy. I’ won’t,” he promises solemnly.

Oswald desperately closes his eyes and inhales more of Jim’s scent. Slowly, he gets up and searches the little dog. He should probably leave but his limbs feel heavy and the old pain in his right leg is back. He’s weak but there’s a flicker of hope burning merrily in his chest.

“You know where to find me should you change your mind.”

Jim follows him to the door. “I can’t," he says ruefully while carefully readjusting the gangster’s tie. He doesn’t only mean the furry gift.

Oswald hesitates. His palms are sweaty when placing them on the doorknob. He thinks he should say something to change Jim’s mind. Chester whines in his little cage and the Penguin remembers how much he has to offer. He could give the cop everything he desires and more. There would be no boundaries.

“You know,” he starts, “Gotham is the only city that could be shaped into something different, better if a cop and gangster teamed up. We both left our marks already. We could leave some more marks and make your visions for this city become real.”

The cop remains silent.

“I could do that for you,” Oswald freely offers.

There’s nothing more than a twitch around the corner of Jim’s mouth. “Oswald,” he breathes.

“I could change the city for you.” Desperation is creeping into his voice.

Leaning against the doorframe, Jim shakes his head. “How is it possible?” the Captain’s voice cracks. “How do you do it?” Closing his eyes he inhales deeply. “Every time I’m getting too close to you, I feel like I’m about to sell my soul to the devil.”

Oswald smirks. “Jim, you really shouldn’t believe in devils but in me.”

He can hear Jim leaning heavily against the door when he leaves.

[cosmosbunnies]

How Fire Emblem Fates tried, and failed, to live up to Awakening.

Fire Emblem Awakening was a tonal and mechanical masterpiece. It set a new bar for Fire Emblem games and the like, so Fates had a lot to live up to. And boy, did it try. And fail. I've got about a million complaints about this game, but I'll list my top three here:

Setup

Fire emblem awakening's avatar, Robin, was relatable. Not in deep ways, but we could sympathize with their situation. They knew exactly what we knew about the world – nothing. They awoke with amnesia and were found by the royal family. Amnesia is a wrote plot point, but its popularity is not baseless. In games especially, dropping the player into the second act allows for swift action, and playing catchup in the story comes for naturally to a player who knows everything their character does, meaning dialogue and exposition can come across as being natural and not ham-fisted.

On the other hand, we have Fates. Mind you, I have only played Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, but I believe these problems extend to Birthright as well; the setup is bad. Instead of giving our player character no knowledge of the world around them via amnesia, they use a different method; seclusion. Corrin as a character is locked away inside of the Nohrian castle throughout their entire childhood and is only allowed in the outside world during the rising action of the story. This, akin to Robin, gives them no knowledge of the world around them. There's one key distinction, however; the family. In Conquest, Corrin knows their family well, and there is an existing dynamic that was built up long before we, the player, entered the scene. So, while Corrin knows nothing of the war and the land, they know much of these characters – and we do not. This flows very poorly. The characters end up awkwardly barking out their relationship to our main character in expositional dialogue before we ever end up even fighting alongside them, instead of having those relationships grow in real-time as we play and allowing us, the player, to form a relationship with the cast based in mechanics while Corrin gets to know them in the narrative. Corrin already loves the cast, regardless of what we think, and we have no choice in the matter. Fates makes the erroneous assumption that the player's interest in the world around them exists in a vacuum, but in reality an average player is interested in how the world exists in relation to the established characters and mechanics, not in the Deep Lore. In fact, Deep Lore is called just that because players who desire knowledge of the world are willing to go to greater lengths to uncover it than players who do not care. This is what in-game history books are for.

Marriage

Fire Emblem Awakening introduced a new mechanic: marriage. Your characters' relationships would grow organically as they fought, and this would eventually lead to (straight) marriage, which would eventually lead to children. The plot of the game involved time travel, and thus a new system was born; the child soldiers. Children are born of your units, your units die in the future, and those children grow up alone and scared, learning to fight for themselves. Eventually, they all get together and use the fire emblem to go back in time. They meet their parents. They introduce themselves. They fight, as they always have, but this time with hope renewed. This created a fantastic dynamic; a younger solider in their prime, with a child they know they'll eventually have but are meeting for the first time. Throw in some well written, natural dialogue, a few fun time travel jokes, and you've got yourself a compelling personal story. It also tied into the main plot in a significant way, having Lucina be a product of this same time travel fiasco. Fire Emblem Fates takes a… different approach. Halfway through act II of the story, you enter an alternate universe. The place is strange, scary and full of mindless evil entities. You meet a character who had been presumed dead, and you fight your way out with him in tow. Upon leaving, you're informed that if any of your characters mention this alternate reality to anyone, they will cease to exist. The point is then dropped, and the unrelated story continues. This puzzled me… A lot. Why did this exists? Was is setting up a structure for a future plot point? Was it world building? I had no idea, I was completely confused.

And then Corrin married.

This was my first marriage in the game, as honestly, none of the characters (save for Niles/Odin, and Effie/Mozu) had what I saw as a real connection, so I waited some time. Corrin and Keaton got married. A popup appeared onscreen afterwords. “A baby was born. The baby is placed in an alternate reality to grow up safe from harm, but a side effect of this reality is that time flows differently, making the children grow up very quickly.” Ah. I see. It makes sense now – the alternate universe is a plot contrivance, created in service to the brand of “You can have children and fight alongside them.” So then you pluck these kiddos from their isolated homes one by one, skipping over the major plot hole of 'Corrin spent nine months fighting while pregnant and then had a baby in the middle of a war? How long did this war take?' and jumping right to “Let's recruit child soldiers.” And so you do. You recruit every child to fight, much to the apparent behest of the mother and father. There is no reasoning to explain why these sensible adults are asking young teenagers to fight in a deadly war. It's simply a fun mechanic, and the game does not expect us to think about it. Except it strips the system of its most important aspects: A) The children do not HAVE to fight to save a doomed world, and B) The parents and the children know one another well. This has removed both the believability of the plot point and the charm in the interactions, leaving us with strange relationships bland dialogue that has an overabundant use of the word “daddy,” which should be purged from every writer's page as it is written.

Incest

You can just. You can just marry your siblings in this game. And have children with them.

At first I though Camilla's apparent attraction to the player character was simply because she was explicitly designed for horny fans to drool over. While this is still true, it's not the only reason she shows an interest in her sibling, as she's more than willing to marry and have children with them. “Oh, it's fine!” You might say. “They're not siblings by blood, you see, so it's morally fine!” Which is the stance the game seems to take. I am not going to explain why incest bad. I will also not drone on about how in the game's counterpart, Birthright, your player is related by blood for plot purposes, but as not to miss out on banging your siblings, each sibling will explain just before marrying you that you're actually not related to them by blood either. Nope, definitely not going to touch that subject.

Small gripes:

I lied about only listing three things. Here are a few notable issues

-You can dress your characters up in stupid looking accessories that add nothing to the game and 95% of the time clip heavily inside the character's model. The characters ASK you to dress them up, and some of them even comment on how silly this is during a war.

-“A+” rank is a cop-out created in an attempt to appease the Queer community without alienating any fans, and the fact that they couldn't be bothered to write any dialogue for the A+ rank relationships shows their lack of interest in queer representation while they sit back and get praise of major publications for “progressivism”

-In the Japanese version you pet your friends on the face Pokemon-Amie style to get them to like you more. I am glad they removed this for the western release

-In the final cinematic, they paid a team of animators to animate your character's first-person experience as they run face-first into their sisters boobs, which joyfully go “Boioioing” and shake like maracas as you reel.

-Sometimes you walk in on your allies naked in the hot springs. You walk all the way in, sit down, relax and stare at the naked peer for seconds before they say “Hey I'm uh… Naked here.” As which point Corrin goes “Sorry!” and sprints out of the room with the speed of a cheetah. I do not know why this happens.

-Keaton is unreasonably erotic when you marry him. Fully voice-acted, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear as the screen fades to black. He is a furry's wet dream. This is not a complaint.

-The story toys with this “abusive father with a family of children who are closer for having a common enemy with whom they have a love/hate relationship” thing, but fails to say ANYTHING meaningful on the subject. It's just empty story dressing

-At one point, you have to choose to either kill or spare a person who just tried to kill you. If you spare him, he joins your party. This goes nowhere, and puzzles me as a narrative choice. He doesn't even bother to betray you or anything, he simply stops mattering.

-Nohr should be dark, gloomy, fun and interesting, and instead it fails to spark the imagination even slightly, instead being “Bland fantasy setting but some of the trees are dead.” Give me some purple and black in that color palette! C'mon!

-There are two wolfskin characters. They are different genders, different heights and weights, but use the same exact model in wolf form. Compare these to the bunny people in awakening who have my heart forever, and this is a major insult.

Thanks for reading

[otomesiren]

Hi @absolutelyabsolem​, I’m your Nightshade Secret Santa~!  I freaked out when I was given your name and it was hard to not talk about this to you in Discord because HANZOOO but I managed! I took your royalty!Enju/Bodyguard!Hanzo idea and went with it (how could I not, I’m a sucker for that!).  But, it borrows some rules from England but also has a twist of my own.  The names are locations are the same and it’s purely Hanzo/Enju as requested.

Merry Christmas wifey Sol <333  -gives cheesecake-

Hanzo stood near the bed with a frown with the maid at the door.  "Your Highness."

"Mmm..."  Enju shifted in her sleep, the silk and fur covers moving with her body.

"Your Highness, please wake up.  We don't have much time to get yourself ready, travel, and getting to the celebration if you don't wake up right now."

"Huh?"  Enju's eyes opened up with a flutter.  "Celebration?"

Hanzo sighed, already used to how foggy her mind was when tired.  "For the winter.  Did you stay up late again?"

Enju pushed away the covers so she could slip out of her bed before she headed to her wardrobe.  "N-No..."  Her sword however said otherwise as it leaned against the wall, still wet from her night training.  As Hanzo continued to stare at it while she changed out of her nightgown behind the cover, she gave in.  "Yes."

Hanzo crossed his arms, his eyebrow furrowing.  "Hmmm..."  

"I'll get ready quicker this time!"

"That's the wrong foot to put that boot on."

"How could you even tell that?"  

"I've been by your side long enough to know how you are, especially when in a rush."

Enju fixed the boots and zipped them up before taking out a furry coat to go with her winter dress.  The maid did her best to do Enju's hair as well as makeup.  "Off ya go, Princess Enju," the maid ushered to Enju.  "Quickly, quickly!"

Hanzo was following behind her, his boots clicking loudly in the giant hallways as Enju's pittered lightly from her hurrying.  "You really should wear heels."

"I packed them in my coat."

They hurried down the grand staircase and out the large doors where the carriage was waiting.  The coachman signaled to them to hurry and get in.  "We'll make it there in time, come on then!"

"Thank you for waking me up," gasped out Enju as the carriage door was closed behind them and she sat down in relief on the green and blue cushioned seat.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm really a bodyguard or your babysitter.   I know you can do better than this, you used to.  Ever since you began to train though..."

"You should train with me more then?" Enju asked meekly.  "That way I won't stay up late?"

The carriage jostled from the sleet on the road, skidding a little but inside, both were jostled.  Hanzo didn't even need to rush to catch Enju, calmly wrapping his arm around her as if it happened daily.

"Were you closing your eyes to sleep more?" he teased with a small grin.

"Maybe..."

He kept his arm around her as he guided her to sit next to him.  "Sit here, it'll be easier to keep you still."  Enju blushed lightly, fidgeting with her gloves as she watched the snow covered trees and lawns pass by.  Even though he was her bodyguard, they had been together since she was a child and he was a teen.  When they had first met, he thought she was just a selfish Princess.  She had proved him wrong by showering him with gifts, trying to play with him, and wanted to share all the things going on with him.  It was like she viewed him as a person and not just a bodyguard.

So when she felt his arm stay around her, Enju smiled and leaned against his shoulder gently.

"No dozing off."

"I-I won't."

Hanzo chuckled softly.  "No, it's fine if you do.  There's still a long way to go.  Get some rest, all right?"

The rocking of the carriage and the warmth that Hanzo gave lulled Enju to sleep.  They passed numerous towns, villages, and farms.  Hanzo normally would be riding his own horse alongside the carriage but due to...circumstances, he had been in this position more times than he could count, ushering her quickly into the carriage and going inside it with her.

It had caused some rumors in the beginning, nearly a scandal as well, but it disappeared thanks to her mother.  He remembered knowing her mother when she was so young to have a child and to meet a selfless child was both refreshing and a relief.  Since Hanzo had saved the Queen's life from the wretched King that had been called her husband, he had been offered as a position of her bodyguard.

Her fingers clung to his winter coat as she snuggled against his shoulder as she slept.  When she had turned a teenager, and he an adult, she had begged for him to train her on how to fight.  Such a thing was uncalled for but her mother allowed it after he promised that if Enju got permission, he would do so.

"Now she spends so much time on it, she spends little time sleeping..."  She took it serious, just like everything else she did.  From lessons to singing to memorizing manners, Enju was always determined growing up and would no doubt stay the same.  That he was sure of.  She wiggled her way inside the walls he had built.  When she turned into an adult, these feelings grew even more.

It was why he didn't want to let his arm slip away from her.  She was used to him catching her, keeping her out of trouble but never while training.  He didn't need to help her there.

Hanzo let out a defeated soft sigh.  What was he to do with her and these feelings?  He peeked down at her, noticing the drool she had left.  With a grin, he softly tightened his hold on her.  For now he'll keep holding her like this and receiving her sleepy drool until they got to their destination.

Which just so happened to be at the Tokugawa's kingdom.  The very kingdom where he used to live and had served the King Ieyasu before the Queen recruited him by chance as he was visiting to relay a message to the busy King.  Even the letter when he gave word to him seemed like it was laughing at him, teasing him to not be carried away by the Princess.  It was still chilling of how the King knew so much, as if he was able to see the future.

The golden and extravagant kingdom still awed Hanzo as it came into view from afar but nothing compared up close when the carriage eventually made its way inside.

Now would be the best time to wake up the Princess.  "Your Highness," he began gently before his voice growing firm by the second each time she didn't budge or wake.

"...Ah!  I'm sorry, I - oh no, I drooled on you again?!  I'm so sorry, where's my handkerchief-"

"Quit worrying about it, they won't even notice it since all eyes will be on you."

Enju blushed and looked away from him before gasping at the sight outside.  "Oh my, look at that tree!  Ours never gets that tall thanks to the environment.  I need to ask how King Ieyasu does it.  I'll ask him when I give him his gift."

"Gift?"

"Yes the gift that I shoved into this coat the night before, see?"  Enju showed a medium sized rectangle present wrapped in gold and green with a silver bow that shimmered slightly from the light that came in the carriage's window.

"Hmm, seems like you wrapped it better this year."

Her lights lit up.  "I did?"  Enju smiled happily as she looked back down at her wrapping work.  "I've watched you and mother wrap presents so many times, I was set on making it better this year."

Hanzo smiled and pulled her closer to him without thinking, "Good work."

"U-Uh, thank you..."  Enju brushed back her silver hair shyly while letting the present nestle on her lap.  

They heard the large gates groan as they opened to let the carriage in, the sun's light bouncing off of their splendor.

"Hanzo...?"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"If they see us like this when opening the door, they will talk again," she whispered as if some of the help was in there with them.  In truth, she didn't want him to stop holding her so intimately to him.

He stayed silent as the carriage got closer and closer, and his arms didn't move either.  Right as she got nervous for real, he let her go before kissing the back of her hand as if pledging his allegiance to her.

It made Enju so red that the maids thought she was sick with a fever when going into the castle.  Hanzo followed after them while the maids fussed on her even as Enju assured them she was okay.

"I'm really okay, honest.  I don't need to rest, I got plenty of that on the - the night before."

Hanzo had to keep in a chuckle at her near slip up.  The guards at the door bowed low to the Princess before nodding in respect to Hanzo as he walked by.  He nodded back at them before stepping through the front door opening.

"Ahhh, Your Highness, welcome back," greeted the head maid.  "Great news is that you're right on time, so come come, get your coat off and follow me."  She looked over at Hanzo with a jolly smile, "You too as well dear, come on."

Hanzo rolled off his jacket and gave it to one of the butler's waiting, and when he took a glance at Enju, he froze.  Her dress was a dark shade of green and blue yet the sequins and sparkles with transparent cloth gave a surreal yet magical feel to it.  It showcased her figure well and if it weren't for her white fur accessory to cover the top part completely, he would've....  Hanzo shoved the vulgar thought as she stared at him in expectation.  She always did this, wanting to know the opinion of another of how she did something and not just words of praise.

"What do you...think?"  Enju asked shyly.

Hanzo regained himself and gave it another look over, walking around her as he did so as if she was some work of art.  "I think...you are more beautiful like this.  Matched with that smile of yours, and you will be the center of attention."

"Oh," she gasped out in surprise and embarrassment.

"Ahh what a wonderful man, saying it so honestly," piped up the head maid before gesturing to them to follow her quickly.  Enju and Hanzo walked towards her at the same time, bumping into each other that sent a thrilling sensation up their arms.

"Sorry," she apologized first before he did so a second after.  Hanzo found her cheeks to be too pink but didn't note on it.  They were going to be late if they didn't head to the grand hall where the ball was held.  He followed her, watching her how she walked in the grand dress.  The sight made him recall the times where she tripped so much in the past that she became so upset for once.  Not knowing what to do, his teenage self tried to get her to brighten up, bringing anything that made her smile in the past.  It hadn't taken long, but seeing her smile vanish just like that just didn't seem right for no reason.

He stopped behind her at the even grander doors that had beveled golden flowers around the trim and detail of the doors.

The head maid knocked on the doors, signaling another arrival before hurrying away with record speed.  Enju walked in as Hanzo stayed a bit a ways behind, knowing the customs well.  She handed the invitation card to the Herald gracefully and waited.  "Her Royal Highness, The Crown Princess Enju Ueno of Koga."

Enju bowed what was needed to please the King before picking up her dress slightly to walk down the stairs.  A far different image than back at her home where she hadn't bothered since the steps were larger.

Hanzo watched her walk down the bit of stairs from his spot that he hadn't moved from yet.  He was here as her chaperone since her mother had difficulty coming.  Plus, he was, after all, her bodyguard, but he never saw her as just that.

"Sir..."  Before the man stationed at the door could urge him forward, Hanzo walked forward, his swords at his sides clinking with the soft taps of his boots.  He didn't wish to bring too much attention to himself as Enju made her way down.  Hanzo counted to ten before walking to the Herald, giving him the invitation with no rush.  The herald cleared his throat as Hanzo walked to the top of the staircase.  "Knight of Koga, Sir Hanzo Hattori."  Immediately the people chattered to themselves as he bowed his usual bow without a change in his expression before descending the stairs.  He had an idea of what they were conversing about. While any other country would find such a man to chaperone Her Highness out of the question due to his gender and marriage status, the way of Koga was different.  It was how they made the rumors just disappear after a while.

King Ieyasu went right up to Hanzo as he finished descending the stairs, "My, my, look at you Hanzo.  The center of attention for once."

Hanzo frowned slightly but it wasn't much of a difference on his face.  "It's good to see you in good health, King Ieyasu."

"Quit being so formal."  Ieyasu signaled to the band to begin playing for the celebration to begin.  With couples going onto the dance floor, some ladies waited around in hopes of Hanzo's attention while Enju was catching up with her friends nearby.  No one would dare to come up to her unless they were an equal rank or higher.

"It's quite sad how you ignore the women, Hanzo, best to pay attention to them?"

"I am."

Ieyasu narrowed his eyes, before realizing Hanzo was watching Enju behind him.  He laughed softly, "Not the Princess, those behind you."

Hanzo turned his head slightly to see and there they were, women beaming while some blushing.  They curtsied nearly in unison before speaking to him.  They were all ladies, but right now they seemed to forget who they were as they rambled on how they wished to dance with him, one promising to be better than the other.

"Sorry, I'm afraid I cannot dance."

"Nonsense you can't Hanzo.  What danger will come to Enju here?  Go and dance, have fun."

Hanzo looked long and hard at Ieyasu and if he were any other King, he would've found it immensely disrespectful.  However, Ieyasu found it amusing as always. "Very well," muttered Hanzo but rather than go dance with one of the ladies waiting, he went up to Enju.

"Quick, tell me to fetch you something."

Enju giggled, knowing exactly what was going on.  "Girl trouble again?"

"There's sweets over there on that other table."

"Oh yes, do bring me some.  Add on a lot."  Her last addition was her way of helping him, even if it made her seem to appear silly.  Hanzo did as she asked, though he took his sweet time.  It was long enough that the ladies found different partners to dance with.

"Thank you Hanzo."  From her tone, he noticed immediately she was still laughing about it.  Time for a little tease.  Hanzo set down the sweets on a table nearby with nothing on it and bowed with his hand out to her.  "May I have this dance, Princess?"

"Huh?"  Enju felt her breath being taken away, her fan shutting close from her fingers gripping it from surprise.  "D-Do you realize what you just did?"  He never asked her to dance, ever, and now he was doing so.

"Yes," he said without missing a beat while keeping his gaze locked with hers.  It was the same gentle tone he always used.

Enju breathed in slowly before lowering her hand with the fan at her side.  She rose her right hand and gently nestled it inside Hanzo's palm.  The rumor would no doubt surface again but...but what did that matter?  People could speculate all they wanted, it wouldn't change how she felt towards him.  She just wished he felt the same.

Meanwhile, Hanzo didn't know what he gotten himself into.  It meant to be a tease, but he found his feelings for her take over and ask for a dance with her.  A wish that he wanted ever since he saw her grow up as a woman and dance beautifully back at home.  For years he wished to dance with her and to have her accept made him feel an unknown but uplifting feeling inside his chest.

He escorted her to the dance floor as a new dance number started up, a fast one thankfully since if it were slow, he would get sucked in too much by her curious and gorgeous eyes.  All he cared right now, was her, as he led her through the openings of the dance floor.  Before, as Ieyasu's Knight, he didn't even bother to take up dancing until Enju said she loved to dance.  She was better at it than singing since the steps came naturally to her.

The way her body and dress brushed up against him made Hanzo grasp her hands tighter as the two stepped in time with the other dancers.  Enju tried her best to not blush, but it was impossible with the way he was holding her and staring down at her with those piercing yet gentle eyes.

They were so lost in their own little world that they didn't even hear the chattering of how some had guessed they were together while others said it was ridiculous to spread more rumors again for one dance.  Then there were those who marveled at how they looked great together, especially how Hanzo danced with her.

Hanzo twirled her around into the next dance, immediately shifting her to the right position as another song set started.  He hadn't realized until moments later.  "I'm sorry," he said gently with a look of surprise.

"It's okay, I wanted to dance with you some more," whispered Enju with a smile.

Hanzo could hardly breathe now himself and nearly bumped into someone if it weren't for his fast reflexes from years on end training.  Her dress whipped around, causing some people to move back, as he led her out and then pulled her back in to another twirl.  

Her crown glistened a little, as if reminding him of their different social statuses, but he found that he didn't wish to stop.  The music seemed like a spell upon him, making him go on and on for three entire dances before finally leading her off the dance floor.

King Ieyasu was beyond amused now.  He was impressed and didn't hide it, his lips stretched into a full smile.  "Did you have fun, Hanzo?"

"Yes."

"Honest as ever.  You should take Enju outside though, she seems feverish.  Go take her out into the gardens for some air."

"If she wishes."  Hanzo look down at Enju who nodded with a shy smile.  She was still blushing.  So beautiful and cute at the same time.  He walked with her through the throngs of people over to the balcony.  Each step made them see that what they had done would no doubt cause rumors and another scandal.

When they took their first step outside, the doors finally closing behind them, both of them felt relieved and let out a breath.  All attention on them was gone.

"It felt like a pin would drop in there."  Enju fanned herself with her fan as they walked slowly down the stairs towards the gardens.  Hanzo remained silent, nearly robotic as he led her passed the main fountain.  "...Hanzo?  Are you okay?"

When they turned into the flowery maze, Hanzo pulled her gently to him.  The feelings for her was growing immense that he just had to have her near.  "Enju..." he breathed out, a little surprised at his shaky breathy voice while gazing into her own surprised blue eyes.

Enju breathed in suspense, hoping that the look in his eyes were correct.  That she wasn't imagining it.  That they were real, staring down at her so lovingly.  She set her hands gently on his arms that were on her back.

Hanzo swallowed, nervous more than ever.  He brought up his free hand to caress her cheek gently, he tried to talk but no words could be formed.  The overwhelming emotion was so grand that he felt like it would take over him - and he wouldn't mind it at all.  

With a shaky hand, he grabbed her hand gently and rose it to his lips to give the palm a soft kiss.  "I don't want to leave your side."  He curled his hand around hers, encasing it inside his own and kissed her knuckles.  "If you may allow me, Enju.  These thoughts, these feelings towards you...I can't hold them in any longer."  He paused, kissing her hand again.  "I never felt this way towards anyone," he whispered, his head lowered toward hers. "And I don't wish for it to end."

Enju looked like she could cry and laugh at the same time.  With an enthusiastic little jump, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down closer to her.  "I don't want them to end either, Hanzo.  I love you so much."

They smiled at each other before Hanzo made the first move and kissed her sweetly.  It was like walking on clouds as he continued to kiss her again and again. The fountain covered her little moans from the seering kisses he lavished on her.  She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck hotly and slowly, taking his time getting to know how she reacted.

The moment was over too soon when Hanzo pulled away as much as he didn't wish to.  He was worried what the people would think up of if they never got back and went straight home.  As he led her back up to the doors that led to the great hall, Enju pulled him aside to the shadows without being seen.

"Enju?"

With the tip of her toes, she pulled him down by his shirt's collar and snuck a kiss from him.

He stared down at her in complete surprise before looking at the doors, as if somehow someone saw them.  All was clear and he let out a relieved yet frustrated sigh while rubbing his temple.  "Enju..."  He tried to think of what to tell her but...he knew how she felt, since he also couldn't contain these feelings for long.

But he had to, to do this right, if they wished for a future together with no trouble.

With a fix of his hair, and a look over her, they walked back into the ballroom as if they really did just stepped out for air.  Enju was chipper but managed to contain herself, and Hanzo...well, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her more than usual but that wasn't unusual.

The rest of the celebration went well from the extravagant dinner that King Ieyasu had ordered out to the final dances of the night.  Enju had danced with some as did Hanzo but they didn't dance with each other again.

As they waited for their carriage to arrive with the driver, Hanzo blocked Enju from the cold winds.  Her friends teased them, saying how much of a gentleman he was while Hanzo's teased him to stop being so serious about his job.

Enju knew though what he was doing was real.  She wanted to hold his hand but waited.  The wait felt like forever before the familiar sight of the carriage in the firelight came to view.  Hanzo walked ahead of her and turned to her, his hand ready to take her's to help her keep steady so she could step in.  Enju nearly fought back a smile as his fingers curled around hers for a small instant before letting go.

Hanzo wished Ieyasu goodbye along with good health before stepping in.  He sat down beside Enju before giving the carriage a tap to let the driver know to head back home.  

She felt nervous despite how utterly familiar it was, but after knowing how he felt - the same as her - made it different.  Unable to resist any longer, she held his larger hand and then affectionately leaned her head on him.

"It's fine if you sleep."

"I don't want to.  I don't think I can though."  She felt his arm around her shoulder before his chin settled gently on her head.  

"I can't either."  The way his deep voice sounded with a slight whisper made her giggle softly.  

The whole way they talked of how others teased them about either of them, especially King Ieyasu who just wouldn't stop talking to Hanzo during dinner.  Hanzo explained that he had to be careful else the others would hear and that King Ieyasu would no doubt not live him down before the announcement was made.

"Announcement?"

"Mm. First, I will have to ask your mother for your hand."

"Oh!"  Her face flushed a deep red.  "I'm sure she will accept you since you two are friends.  We met because of her."

Enju had been correct, though her mother couldn't help but tease Hanzo after as well herself.  

"I had a feeling this might have happened," she had said with the two kneeling before.  "As long as you two are happy, however, I give you my blessing."

The next day, the announcement came out just as promised and Hanzo found out that a lot of people that day became richer.  But he cared not if others betted on him and his wife, all he cared about now was her as well as the kingdom that she had been so eager to show to him when they first met.

"Hanzo, this is my daughter, Enju Ueno.  You will be her bodyguard."

The younger Hanzo bowed low perfectly.  "Hello."

Enju jumped up and ran over to him.  "Hi!  Do you want to play?  Come on, let's go, let's go!"

"Hanzo."

Hanzo blinked and looked over at the woman he loved very much.  "Yes?"

"Remember these grass signals we came up when I first met you after I dragged you to the gardens?"

Hanzo smiled with a chuckle as he walked closer to her.  "How could I forget.  Though, I remember you being terrible at playing them."

Enju brought the grass blade to her mouth and tried anyway, but the sound didn't come out.  She sighed after giving up and didn't want to meet his eyes.  

Hanzo traced her fingers, the ring he had graced her on their wedding day felt warm as he grasped her hand.  "I still love you, even if you can't do something."  He rubbed her head gently before running his hand through the long lengths of her hair.  She had been wearing it down now after marrying him ever since he made a comment of how beautiful she had been that first night they shared together.

Enju loved it when he ran his fingers through her hair.  She always closed her eyes as he did, nearly leaning more towards him.  This time, she took his hand and kissed it.  "I'm still going to try."

Hanzo laughed and he pulled her closer.  "That's the spirit," he whispered with a smile before giving her a kiss.