#only complaint is that there's no way to seal the lid so i have to be careful to not spill

[pseudo-apollo]

yes, i got the Goncharov tumbler

[juni-aldaine123]

THE ALTAR IS MY HIPS/ jshk ; amanene

・❥・fluff . oneshot . slight suggestive tones . alternate universe . set in 1900s . festivals . human hanako . amane yugi . married amanene . couple

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

There is a melody in her voice as she sings out his name, a beat in her steps as she skips over to him. Amane’s heart stutters in his chest when he turns to look at her.

Dressed in a brilliant red kimono with sakura flowers lined of gold adorning its silky expanse, the billowing sleeves flowing past her fingertips, Nene twirls herself around him letting his eyes capture her image.

“You look beautiful,” he says, but even then, the word feels drab, feels too monotonous to describe someone as vibrant as Nene. She is so breath-taking that it pains his lungs and burns his eyes whenever she lingers close him, too close, that he feels like Icarus as the sun shines down on him with her smile.

He tucks a beige strand behind her ear, his knuckles dancing from her heavy ruby encrusted earrings to her cheek, leaving a feathery trail as she chases his touch. Nene blushes heavily when caught by his knowing smirk. She is so shy that Amane wants to tease her a bit longer; the festival can wait.

He wonders how she will respond. Will she pout and turn her head away and then Amane would have to coax her gently as if she is a toddler? Or will she blush prettily and bury her face in her palms that Amane would pry her hands away, hold them as he smothers her face with kisses.

“Do I make you,” he leans in, so close he hears her heartbeat in his “… feel so shy?”

“Oh yes,” she drawls with a lazy grin, eyes half lidded as she stares deep with his Tuscan sun.

“ I feel butterflies in my belly every time you look at me like that,” comes her bold reply and Amane stifles a chuckle in favour of holding her delicate face, thumb running on her crimson painted lips.

He should’ve expected as much. His Nene is becoming more immodest everyday she spends with him, and he has no complaints.

(“I learnt from the best afterall,” she’d once told him when he pointed it out)

He loves this side of her as well. He worships every facet of her, every fragment, everything, of her.

“Look at you like what?”

“Like I have created this world…just for you.”

“You have.” You are my world, he doesn’t say but knows that she heard anyway.

“You flatter me Amane-kun. But won’t that upset the gods? The ones who have truly crafted this world for us to live in.” She leans into him; he leaves red stains on her cheeks. But Nene doesn’t mind.

“The gods must not take offense, for they were the ones who gifted me their lovely angel.” He draws circles against her flushed skin, relishing in the way it gets warmer the longer his touch remains.

“Their ‘angel’? Am I the only one?” Nene closes her eyes, feeling Amane hot breath on her lips.

“In the heavens and the earth and all that is beyond, you’re the only one in my sight.”

“And….what if I never was?” What if you never met me? What if I was never there?

“Then I must be a blind man.” But even then, I will always find you. I don’t need my eyes to recognize you. I have every inch of yours etched in my memory. If you were never there then maybe I would’ve wandered like a lost soul. There would’ve been nobody to anchor me.

“I’m nothing without you.” Nene tries to protest, but Amane’s mouth seals hers in a searing kiss. It bites her tongue, burns her throat, a fire ignites her lungs. But she is drowning, drowning in his overwhelming love, when his hands curve around her waist; moulding her into himself.

She thinks their love is treacherous, desperate and unflinching, because it hurts when Amane kisses her like she is the salvation to his depravity.

But she also finds their love soft, delicate and pious, because she feels divine when Amane worships like the altar is her hips.

[gruesomejack]

Rabbit caught the surprise in his gaze and nearly back-pedaled. He shouldn't have let his mouth run! It'd been a tease, but they'd only just kissed. That was too much too soon and- Was he grinning? Eyes falling to that Cheshire-cat smile, his heart did a hard backflip in his chest as he registered the words dripping from it. Oh. Oh. It felt like a red hot weight dropped from his throat down to his hips, burning all the way and setting him ablaze. God, he felt so dizzy.

A babble of a laugh slipped past his puffy lips, cut off by the taste of Alex. Rabbit eagerly opened his mouth for him and let him take his time. He returned the curiosity with fervor, caressing his tongue with his own and making a home for himself past his teeth. Rabbit's hands started to roam, sliding over his back and down his chest in a way that was clear he'd been thinking about it for a while now. When they broke, a low, involuntary grunt pushed past his lips, disappointed despite the lack of oxygen. He dipped to chase him, but was stopped by the body sliding into his lap. The way his body adjusted was automatic and his hands quickly settled on his hips. Another kiss and he felt elated and high; Rabbit moaned softly between his lips and moved until he was nearly faint. If Alex hadn't pulled back, he was sure he'd let him take all the air from his lungs without a single complaint.

Rabbit panted with half lidded eyes and wet, shiny lips. His gaze was moving swiftly over Alex and taking in every piece of this he could from the was his eyes were soft and blown to the matching tremble in their shoulders. Breaking, he laughed again and leaned into the hand on his face, his cheeks burning red. Nobody had ever called him pretty before, not once. He might not have been inclined to believe it, but from Alex he took it as truth. "...You're beautiful." He returned, his voice low and gentle. Lifting a hand of his own, he brushed gently over the mending split in his lip and felt his heart tumble. Boyfriend. Alex was his boyfriend!

Grinning again, he sealed the gap and took him for a hot kiss. His hands were on him and searching, letting one dip under fabric to run a wide palm along his spine. The other hooked him by the belt loop and tugged him closer until they were chest to chest and he could feel their hearts echo each other in a feeling and hormone induced panic. The weight on his lap felt good and he couldn't help but shift a little. Friction of denim on denim and the body heat beneath the fabric further woke a sense of urgency in him and before he could make sense of it, Rabbit was seeking it out. His hips twitched and caught the feeling in a slow grind, very quickly kindling the flame behind his belly. Breaking the kiss, he pressed a quicker one to the corner of his mouth and moved down his jaw and neck.

Rabbit nipped near his pulse and kissed it. Humming softly, he gave the spot a curious suck until it was raised and blooming purple. His hands slipped further up Alex's shirt, one on each side of him and palming at his hot skin. "Don't laugh.." He whispered to him, "But I've been daydreaming about this." Swallowing, he smiled against his skin and kissed it again. "You're stupidly pretty and after I kissed you that first time, it was over for me." He said, "I haven't stopped thinking about it and you since." Rabbit pressed his lips together and pulled back just enough to peek at his face, pulling a hand to his stomach. "You uh..." His voice trailed at the prickle of soft hair against his fingertips, his eyes falling between them. It was so simple, but his ears were burning and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Running his thumb against it again, a hot shock jolted up his back and bashful sound stumbled from his mouth. He could've sworn his Levi's were looser when he tugged them on this morning. "M-Maybe.. my lap isn't the best place to sit." He stuttered, but didn't move a muscle. In fact, his body seemed to disagree, his hand slipping further up while his hips shifted to catch that friction again, pushing the growing problem beneath his fly against him. Red faced, he grimaced and managed a pitiful laugh. "Sorry."

Knock knock-

Rabbit glanced back at his door as he smoothed out his t-shirt, his brows pinching together.

"You decent, man?"

Oh! Harvey. He was probably checking in with his instructions to take care of Little Thing for the night. "Yeah, you can come in."

The door creeked open and a young man a little older than he was made his appearance, letting himself lean against the frame. He was broad with a warm face, his hair picked out in stylish, cloud like curls. Rabbit liked him. He'd been kind from the moment he moved in, never outwardly seeking him out, but always friendly when they crossed paths.

"Your friend's downstairs waiting." Harvey said, his dark eyes flicking towards the bunny hutch in the corner. Rabbit had drilled in the rules already and he wasn't worried too much about the creature. He'd spend some time with her to let her get out her energy, feed her, and set her back in for the night. Gaze moving back up, he meant to look at Rabbit but found himself pulled to the bouquet sitting on top of his dresser. "...That for him?" He asked, nodding his chin towards the flowers.

Rabbit blinked and looked over at the dresser, his face quickly taking on a bright red tint. "Uh-" They were. It'd been an impulse to buy them and he wasn't even sure Alex liked flowers, but it was too late to return them. "I-"

"Relax, man." Harvey smiled and stood up straight, "You're good. I'm not bothered by it." There really was no reason to be. It wasn't his business or his concern who people were swapping spit with-- Especially people who were struggling already like he was. As far as he was concerned, Rabbit was a good kid. A little weird and troubled, but good.

"...Thanks." Rabbit managed, his lips twitching. Turning back towards his mirror, he grabbed his brush off the dresser and moved to drag it through his hair to try and tame it. Before he could, Harvey was in the room and snatching it from his hands, tutting at him. "Uh-uh, no more of that. People pay to get their hair to look like yours, you know?" He gently turned the younger man and looked him over, setting the brush down. Narrowing his eyes, he separated a few curls with his fingers and smiled. "Yeah, man! Grow it out and let it go." He said and pat the side of his face, his own pulling into a grin. "Trust me. Looks groovy."

Rabbit glanced at himself and back at Harvey. Well, it would be easier than trying to keep it under control, that was for sure. Shrugging, he offered the other man a noncommittal nod. He moved then, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, then his guitar, and then, hesitant, the flowers on his dresser. "Remember to put her back in the hutch before bed. I don't want her to chew on anything-"

"I know. I'll take care of her, I promise." Harvey hummed and took a second to look Rabbit over again. He didn't want to keep him from his friend, so he'd have to save any more style advice for later. "Go on."

Smiling for him, Rabbit thanked him before dipping out of the room. A giddy feeling bloomed in his chest as he hopped down the stairs by twos, hitting the bottom landing with an excited hum. The enthusiasm followed him to the front room where he grinned when his eyes found Alex. Walking up to him, his expression softened a little, but didn't fall. "Hi." He said, his face warming a little. "You ready to go camping?"

@purposefully-lost

[besotted-eros]

BabyDaddy!Eren on Father's Day

NSFW under cut(MDNI)//breeding, dirty talk, dom!eren, mommy/daddy usage, alcohol, breastfeeding, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

Eren, who has made your life so much harder than it needs to be. A hook up gone wrong, a letter to the condom company, and an adorable little bundle of joy that you're head over heels in love with... Even with the fact he has the same eyes as his annoying father.

Eren, who knows that he gave you the night of your life. Whose smirk is lethal every time you see him, who undresses you with his eyes the moment his gaze lands on you. His words are warm as you meet with him for drop offs or picks up. He focuses on the baby for the most part, cooing lovingly as he shoulders the bag. But as you make your way back to your car, you can feel how he stares, it touches your curves like a physical thing. It makes you think of how his hands felt.

Eren, who is an absolutely amazing father. Adores his son, goes above and beyond to make his disorganized bachelor pad of an apartment into something appropriate for a child. Who had came over to help you paint your nursery as well, spent the whole time poking at you. Stepping too close, purring compliments in ways that make your thighs clench. Reached over to tug at the strong of your thong when your sweats ride too, saying he liked this pair better than what he's seen you in. You rebuke him, rolling your eyes. He never stops flirting.

Eren's eyes opening wide, filling with tears that he'll forever deny when his son toddles up to his door on Father's Day. The baby's wearing a tiny little varsity jacket, just like the one Eren had in university. He's holding a mug, with a tiny blue handprint stamped on the front. Eren sweeps him up, kissing his face as he praises his little man. You grin from your spot by the car, leaning against it as you watch him carefully extract the mug and vow to never use another cup. His jade gaze moves to yours. He's grateful, deeply grateful. "Happy Father's Day." You call out. It's only his second, and you wonder if he'll cry every time.

Eren, stepping from his door. This is the first time you've seen insecurity on his expression, sheepishness making him seem younger. "Do you want to come in?" You say something about it being his day, but he shrugs, smoothing his son's hair back. "You're the one who made me a father."

Eren, making you breakfast despite your complaints as your baby demolishes cantelope as though it owes him money. The vulnerability in his face is covered again by his cocky grin, asking you if you remember the last time he made you breakfast.

Eren driving like an actual human being. Calm, cool. First to the park, where he takes picture after picture of sun covered smiles, reapplies sunscreen on the dot. You notice the way other moms check him out, admiring his muscular arms, how his chestnut hair falls across his face when he leans down to pick up his son, or pushes him on the swing.

Eren, who only has eyes for you.

Eren tucking your son into bed, exhausted after a long day of playing and a big dinner. He pours you a glass of wine as you sit on his sofa, nursing his own. You haven't sat like this in a long time. Haven't spoken like this to him in even longer. He's wearing a simple black t shirt, the neck of it wide to show off his pretty collar bones, the sleeves hugging his biceps. It's no wonder you let him pick you up at that bar.

The conversation turning to kids, Eren asking you if you would consider another. The question feels loaded, and his green gaze never leaves your face. You're sitting closer together than you remember.

Eren smells like sandalwood. He's on top of you now, pinning your body to the sofa. All you had said was that you would want another. You liked being pregnant weirdly, and you love being a mommy. His eyes had slowly widened, and by the time you said mommy your fate was sealed.

Eren's demanding hands peeling off your jeans while his mouth claims yours. "Can't fucking do this anymore, teased me for too long. And now this? You like being a mommy?" His tone is almost incredulous, but it's thick with lust. He palms you through your satin panties, fingers pinching and rubbing your lips. He's stroking a fire in you. And you've been dry kindling, waiting to burn for so long.

Eren yanking your shirt neck down hard enough to rip it. The bra is pulled down as well, your hardened nippled released to the air. Your areola is large, and his eyes trace it almost lovingly. And now covered by his mouth. "They're so big now, fucking watched them grow. Wanted to do this the moment I knew." He grows against your skin as he suckles. He's drinking from you, drawing the sweet milk from your breast. You're pulling and tugging at his hair, gasping for relief as he invades your every sense.

Eren's cock. It's almost bigger than you remembered. It fits his figure so well, long and veiny, but girthy enough to make your toes twitch in anticipation. It bursts from his black jeans as he yanks them down, heavy balls swinging. You're on your knees before you even realise, tongue lapping at the firm shaft, at the soft skin of his sack. He encourages you, fist twisting your hair. Tells you to kiss his balls nice and sweet because he's gonna breed you with them.

Eren on the ground behind you, pushing your face into the soft cushions of the couch. Coffee table has been haphazardly pushed away to give him more space as he ceaselessly pounds you. His broad, muscular chest is pressed to your back, his mouth hot on your shoulder and neck. Biting, nipping, degrading and lifting all in one. His hands grip your hips like they were made to be his hand holds. He keeps pulling you back, making your ass bounce. Telling you you have the perfect child bearing hips, that's why he first eyed you. And then when you got pregnant he fisted his cock every night, the sight of you filling his naughty dreams. But this time he's gonna do it right. This time he's gonna fuck you through it.

Eren, asking you how badly you want to be a mommy again. Pulling you onto the ground fully, throwing you onto your back so he can move your legs to your chest, fold your body into a mating press. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes heavy lidded, body jerking with each time you slide along his cock. Your pussy walls are plush, wet, clinging to him. You're begging for it. Your body knows. So you call him daddy, pleading for him. Begging for daddy to breed your needy pussy once more.

Eren's cum, filling you up in a way that's utterly sinful. Hot and sticky, coating your inside and dripping out onto the hardwood. He lays against you for a moment, chest heaving with exertion.

"Maybe next year I'll get two mugs."

[wardenannie]

Hurt Levi pls

I normally don't take tumblr prompts, but for you, anon whose identity is a total mystery to me, I will accept

NSFW under the cut. Also warning for some torture that happens about midway through. Nothing too graphic tho.

-

Kenny captured him as they dueled in the streets of the capital. Levi didn't see the net coming until it was too late. His eyes were locked on the gunslinger, body moving like water as he spun past bullet after bullet, slate eyes trained on Kenny's exposed jugular.

When the net struck him it took his balance with it, and he tumbled two stories to the ground, confused in a pile of weights and rope. He landed with a sickening crunch, the right side of his body slamming brutally into the paving stones.

Levi was stunned, body wracked with agony as his broken bones screamed in complaint.

He could hear his squad calling out for him; "Heichou!" But he could not make out their faces as his vision blurred and dark shadows began to loom over him.

One of those shadows- the tallest, the most menacing- laughed, and then spat in his face. Kenny.

"Gotcha, runt," Levi could hear the sneer in his voice, words dripping with the venom of sordid joy. He struggled, breath coming ragged as panic began to set in.

"Knock him out," Kenny ordered.

A sharp pain radiated up the side of Levi's skull, then everything went black.

He awoke in a dark cell, suspended by iron manacles that dug harshly into his wrists. His shirt was gone, body coated in a fine sheen of cold sweat that shimmered in the dim light of a single, paltry torch.

Levi's head throbbed painfully. The right side of his body was mottled with blue-black bruises. It hurt to breathe, to blink, to think.

But Levi was a survivor, so he pushed through the pain, recalling everything that had brought him to this point. He remembered battling on the streets of the capital. He remembered Kenny shouting his name boisterously. He remembered Nifa's brains being splattered across the rooftops, and he remembered falling, and falling, and falling.

"Shit," he cursed, and he pulled at his restraints. The movement only served to dig the metal more painfully into his flesh, fresh blood running hot down his forearms.

Levi drew in a ragged, fortifying breath, then shouted with all of his remaining might, "Kenny!"

The low tenor of his voice echoed through the subterranean dungeon. A peppering of dust fell from the rafters, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Panting, chest heaving as he bit through another full body wave of pain, he shouted again, louder, with more power and rage behind the name; "KENNY!"

His muscles went limp, body hanging weakly from his shackles, toes dragging on the filthy floor. Everything hurt. It hurt so much. Every fiber of his being seemed to be crying out in red hot pain. His head throbbed, eyes pulsing in his skull. There was a constant pressure in his chest, digging into his lung, a broken rib, more like than not.

Levi huffed a broken sound, hanging his head. He was useless like this, strung up like a fresh kill. He shut his eyes, waiting helplessly for his fate to arrive.

Hange would come for him. He knew she would.

He recalled their parting moment, the people she had loaned him, the people he had gotten killed. He remembered the trust she had placed upon him, that had swirled behind those wine-colored eyes, and somehow he felt even more broken.

"Hange..." He sighed her name, lids fluttering.

He'd been so caught up in his memories that he hadn't heard the telling sound of footsteps on the bricks. Two grizzled, calloused hands gripped the bars mockingly.

Kenny grinned at him from the darkness of the corridor, freshly shaven. Face porous and lined and aged.

"Hey there, runt," he goaded, fingers drumming softly on the bars. Two more people appeared beside him, men, their faces obscured behind black torturer's hoods. Their black eyes flashed menacingly in the torchlight.

"We have a few questions for ya," Kenny produced a key from around his neck and slipped it into the lock. The heavy, barred door opened with a metallic shriek and a muffled kerthunk. He slipped into the cell, body long, thin and skeletal. Behind him the two torturers followed.

Now that they stood in the light Levi could see that they wore the instruments of his torture across their bodies like bandoliers. The knives and scalpels and scrapers all gleamed orange by the light of the torch.

Levi swallowed thickly, giving another weak pull at his shackles.

"Now," Kenny's smile never waned. He laced his fingers behind his back, standing up straight and proud. "Are ya gonna cooperate? Or will we have to do this the hard way."

Levi's lips curled into a snarl. They wanted Hange's location, the location of his squad.

They could rot in hell.

He demonstrated as much by spitting onto the floor in front of Kenny's boot.

"Fuck off."

Kenny puffed his cheeks amusedly, and took a small step backward to make way for the torturers.

"These fellows are good at what they do," Kenny explained softly as they began to pluck their implements from their chests. "They were loaned to me by the king himself."

Levi bared his teeth, refusing to give Kenny anything more than his ire.

Kenny cracked his knuckles, smile shifting to lopsided and entertained, "Alright then, let's begin."

Levi stayed strong. Through it all, he endured. He kept his lips sealed, biting on them until they bled like his exposed nailbeds, like the parallel lines they drew across his belly with their razor sharp knives. He endured when they began breaking nailess toes, and he endured when they moved on to his fingers, peeling the skin back to the first knuckle.

His blood painted the floor in crimson-black drips. His grunts of agony echoed through the dungeon halls in a torturous symphony.

"Where is Hange Zoe?" Kenny asked, obviously beginning to grow exasperated.

Levi showed his teeth, red with blood, red dripping from his nose, "Never." He choked, tasting rust in his mouth. He would die before he gave Hange up. It was her face that lingered in the back of his mind, that bolstered his resolve against their blunted rods as they beat his already broken ribs.

He remembered her smile. Her laughter. They way she smirked when she teased him over his height and cleanliness. He remembered her touch, the fire she awoke inside of him, in his skin.

He remembered Hange. His Hange. And he endured.

Eventually they left him alone. Making sure to snuff out the torch as they went, Levi dangled weakly in the dark. The only sounds were that of his own breathing and his blood dripping steadily onto the floor.

His vision began to fade, sounds growing distant, as though he were submerged beneath dark waves of white hot water. He struggled to breathe, to keep his eyes open. 

Ultimately his struggle was in vain. He fell into viscous, black unconsciousness. 

-

Hange Zoe had never before known fear like this; this terrible, gripping thing that settled in her chest and constricted around her lungs like a parasitic snake. It radiated outward from her center, down her limbs and into her fingertips, numbing them as she gripped the triggers of her ODM gear. 

He had to be alive. He had to be. 

How would she survive if Levi were gone. What would she do? She couldn’t imagine it, that agony which she was barely holding at bay. Were the worst to come to fruition it would surely consume her. 

They busted through the doors of the anti-personnel squad compound. Shattering through them with a battering ram, shards of broken wood raining down on the occupants of the adjacent room; splintering and slicing them. 

Hange grabbed the first man she saw by his collar, hoisting him into the air as her muscles burned. She pressed the edge of her blade to his throat, flashing her teeth, vision blurring red with complete and utter rage. 

“Where is he?!”

Moblit and Levi squad apprehended the others in the room. Binding their hands and feet. Hange simply wanted them dead.

The man dangled in the air, grasping weakly at Hange’s wrist where she held him aloft, “I- I um...” 

“Spit it out or you won’t have a tongue to speak with!” Hange demanded, pressing her blade more insistently to his throat. 

“D-downstairs,” he pointed towards a door with a shaking finger. 

Hange grunted and threw him roughly down onto the floor, leaving him to the rest of the squad. She rushed for the doors, prying a torch off of the wall as she descended into the dark depths of the dungeon. 

Let him be alive, she chanted to herself. Please, whatever gods there may be, let him be alive. 

Kenny was nowhere to be found. The fighting upstairs cleared quickly and soon all of Levi squad was trailing the Section Commander through the dark labyrinth. 

It only took another few moments for them to discover him hanging by his wrists in the dark. He was filthy, covered in blood, sweat, and bruises. His eyes were closed, chest barely rising with stilted breath. 

“Levi!” Hange rasped, gripping the bars. “What did they do to him?” 

She ground her teeth to the point of pain, leaning all of her weight into the bars like she could bend them through sheer force of will alone. The sight of his blood pooling on the floor made her stomach twist, her heart ache. Her mouth was dry and a salient mixture of horror and utter rage pooled in her center. 

Armin was already working on the lock. But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Hange shoved him out of the way and slammed one of her blades down into the rusty lock mechanism over and over. It creaked, shuddered, and then cracked in two under the force of her assault. 

Leaving the rest of the squad in the dust, Hange rushed to Levi’s side, wrapping her arms tenderly around his waist and lifting him so his wrists were no longer being cut by the shackles. 

“Hange,” he choked her name weakly, then spit blood onto the yellow of her shirt. His slate eyes were hooded and distant, dissociative from the pain. 

Armin and Mikasa were working on his restraints. 

“I’m here,” Hange breathed, careful only to touch him where she had to. “I’m here.” 

She wanted to scream at the sight of him. His body was a warzone; brutalized, left sallow and broken. His skin was clammy, breath tinged with the scent of blood. 

“Levi...” she exhaled shakily, and finally the manacles came lose and Levi crumpled into her arms. He buried his face against her neck, and she heard him inhale sharply, painfully. 

Hange bit her lip, cupping the back of his head, stroking his greasy hair gingerly. 

Moblit cupped her shoulder gently, his eyes wide with concern, “Section Commander, we need to go.” 

Hange nodded, lifting Levi protectively into her arms. She wouldn’t let anyone help her. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching him but her. She guarded him carefully all the way back to their hideout, keeping his head nestled safely in her lap as their cart wheeled bumpily along the city streets. 

-

Hange treated his wounds as best she could. She wrapped his tortured fingers and stitched the wounds in his abdomen. She tied his broken toes to unbroken ones and gave him water each hour on the hour. As for his bruises? She could only hope that they were not set too deeply into his muscles and organs. She could only caress delicate fingers over his cheek and pray to whatever merciful gods might exist that he would come out of this trial relatively unscathed. 

Though he would always bare the scars. Reminders of her own failure to protect him; the man she...

She utterly refused to leave his side, not even to report to Erwin. She sent Moblit in her stead. 

And how could she leave him? Her Levi? Her partner in crime? How could she possibly rationalize leaving his side when he was so close to death, when she had nearly lost him. 

She cried softly at night, sat up against a stark brick wall, just feet away from the Captain. She cried because she realized for the first time that she really, truly loved this man. She loved him with each individual fiber of her imperfect being. She loved him, and she had nearly lost him. 

Levi had nearly died. 

“I feel so helpless,” she whispered, blinking back her tears. “Levi, I’m so sorry. If I had just gotten there sooner you might not-

“Shut it, four-eyes,” Levi groused painfully, blinking to wakefulness. His voice was groggy, eyes blurry, but he still managed to reach out and touch Hange. He laid his bandaged had over her own. 

“You’re awake,” Hange exhaled in relief, and she leaned over him slightly, scooting nearer. She could feel the reassuring heat of his body, watch the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

“Did you...” Levi let out a painful wheeze when he tried to rise onto his elbows. Hange gently coaxed him back into the sheets. “Did you treat me?” 

Hange nodded, sniffing, “I did. We’re still in hiding so we couldn’t call on any actual doctors.” 

Levi swallowed thickly, wounded fingers curling gingerly around her own, “Is Kenny dead?” 

“No, he wasn’t there when we raided the compound.” 

“Shit.” 

“Levi...” Hange leaned closer, looming over him. Her eyes flashed with genuine concern. Her throat suddenly felt too tight, too hot. 

Levi went very still, and for a long moment they simply stared, gazing into one another’s eyes. There was a spark of recognition in Levi’s grey as he reconciled the emotion swirling in Hange’s russet irises. 

“Hange...” 

She kissed him, leaning carefully over his body and sealing their lips in a wet, tearful kiss. Her tongue traced along his lower lip, and he granted her entrance with a soft moan, mimicking her action in turn. Hange cupped his cheek, thumb brushing along his chin. 

When they parted a soft sob wracked through Hange’s body, breath tickling along Levi’s parted lips, tears peppering his cheeks. 

“I almost lost you,” Hange choked. 

Slowly, Levi raised his good arm and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for another; slower, more reverent kiss. 

Hange shifted her position over Levi’s body as their tongues and lips worked in tandem. She straddled his left thigh, her own thigh pressing very near to the crux of his legs where he was obviously hard, wearing only a thin pair of sleep pants that Hange had scrounged for him. 

“You almost died,” she said when they parted again. Then she peppered his face with kisses from his forehead to his chin. “I almost lost you, Levi.” 

“We’re soldiers,” Levi spoke, but there was no conviction behind his words. “Soldiers die.” 

Hange shook her head, more tears welling. She bit her lip painfully, and when she opened her mouth to speak only a pained noise managed to eek past her lips. 

“I knew that you would come for me,” Levi admitted after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I knew you’d be the one.” 

Hange nodded fiercely, then kissed him again. Her fingertips teased along the waistband of his pants, and he hummed in silent consent. Hange needed this, they needed this. This kairotic moment to which they had been building for years. This physical expression of their shared need, desires, and- though they did not give it voice- their love. All of it precipitating from such exquisite pain as nearly losing one another. 

When she sank down onto him is was with a soft sigh. He filled her up, made her feel whole in a way she had never known she was missing. She was careful of his broken body, setting a slow, even pace that drove the both of them mad. 

“Hange,” Levi whispered her name. His bandaged hands lifted to hold her hips as she rode him. 

“I love you,” she admitted, ducking her face to hide behind her hair. “I love you and I almost lost you, Levi.”

Tears continued to pepper his face and chest as they made love, Hange gliding gracefully back and forth on him. He even managed to cant his hips slightly to meet her, drawing a quiet moan past her lips. 

They reached climax quickly, peaking together in a moment which Hange could only describe as one of pure light. 

Afterwards she tucked herself into his good side, head resting on his shoulder, cum dripping between her thighs. 

“I love you, short stuff. I love you so much it hurts. And to see you so broken, in so much pain... I can’t.” The tears were flowing again, dampening the sheets. 

“Easy,” he touched her hair. “I’m alive, four-eyes. You saved me.” 

“Not before-

“Hey, enough of that shit,” Levi demanded, though his voice was soft. He inclined his head to kiss Hange’s hair. “I’m alive four eyes. I’m alive because you came for me.”

Hange blinked away her tears and nuzzled into Levi’s neck. Muffled against his skin she breathed, “I love you.” 

Levi closed his eyes. Body still aching, in tatters, but with Hange by his side he felt as though everything might turn out okay. 

He loved her, too.

[bratkook]

queen of broken hearts. jjk (m) part one.

I’m the queen of broken hearts, break you in a thousand parts.

part two. part three.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: smut, heavy angst word count: 3.2k warnings: one sided pining, jungkook is in lurv, oc is definitely not(also kind of a bitch), smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slightly rough sex, finger sucking, creampie author’s note: this is based on a request from @koochiekoo​ for the milestone drabble yay! hope you like it bb ❣️

Jungkook doesn’t know why he allows himself to constantly wind up in this position. He knows it’s not good for him, leaves him feeling hollow each time his mind clears, leaves him wanting more of you in ways he knows aren’t possible.

Yet somehow his common sense and dignity leave without warning the minute you come to mind. His morality and self respect jump right off a cliff with no parachute in sight, succumbing to your every wish like a dumb little puppet for you to play with. There’s just something about the way you call him over, your saccharine lies wrapping him around your finger so beautifully he almost doesn’t hate it.

He knows you’ll never love him, not like he does at least, his heart’s open for you like a treasure chest, ready and willing for your taking but nothing inside was of value to you. It didn’t matter if he dipped his heart in gold and covered it in pearls, you’d seal the chest back up, weld it shut with a kiss to stop the lid from opening up again.

It was always a kiss, a kiss that left him swallowing the words back down that he knows will tear him away from you. As much as it pains him to know he could never fully have you the way he wanted, being able to go on dates, telling his friends you were his instead of having to pretend as if you two never spoke, being able to hold your hand in a tender act of love instead of the way he gripped them as he rocked into you. He’d rather have you like this than not at all.

He preferred to have you pouting underneath him because he had slowed his pace too much for your liking, your beautiful eyes giving him a roll that shows that your patience was slowly slipping. That was the only face of irritation he could handle from you, he could only picture the way your face would screw up in displeasure if he let the words of confession come tumbling off his tongue the way he wanted to.

No, he didn’t want that. He could settle with this.

“Jungkook,” you sigh out, your hands pressing against his chest being the anchor to bring him back to the ground, pull him out of whatever day dream he was currently in, “fuck me faster.”

The words hold no bite to them despite your impatience, but he knows if he doesn’t listen they’ll only get meaner. He briefly wonders if he might have a kink for that, the teasingly degrading words that dig into his skin like the blunt edges of your nails are now, they make his cock pulse inside of you as he recalls them.

Jungkook needs help.

A groan of annoyance finally fills the air as you lift your upper body up, your hand pushing at his chest once more to get him off of you. For a brief moment he wonders if you’re gonna kick him out but the thought leaves him just as quickly as it comes when your hands grip his slim waist, flipping the two of you over until Jungkook is sprawled out on what he knows is your side of the bed. He can tell by the sweet smell of your shampoo that lingers on the pillow by his head, the floral fragrance invading his senses and only making his heart twist further in his chest.

“You going soft on me?” You joke as you straddle his waist, your soft hand gripping the base of his sticky cock and guiding it towards your entrance once more.

The curve of your lips as you smile at him pulls him further under whatever hex you must have on him. Your hair hangs over your left shoulder as you stare down at him, taunting him as you let the bulbous head of his cock nudge against your hole, the angelic mask you don not doing much to hide the devilish intent you always had.

“No.” He weakly responds, rutting his hips up towards you to get you to sink down on him, succeeding in letting the tip of him breach your entrance. The warmth of your walls sinking onto the first inch of his cock has him groaning, his hands scrambling up to clutch onto your sides, giving you another moment to make your decision before giving up and forcing you down the rest of his length.

A sudden shout of his name reaches his ears as your thighs smack against his, your neck now exposed as you throw your head back at the feeling of his cock filling you up once more.

This was why you always called him over, a bad habit you couldn’t shake, a guilty pleasure no one could know about. Jungkook’s cock stretched you out just right, nudging along the sweet patch inside of you with no effort needed. It made you lose your inhibitions, left you hungry for something only he could satiate.

“Good, I can’t have you going soft on me,” you practically purred on top of him, grinding down on him in an intoxicating motion that sent his mind into a frenzy, “you know I don’t like it soft.”

His eyes roll back into his skull as you lean back, your palm resting on his thick thigh to give you leverage while you begin to lift up and slam back down on him, a pace intent to make him lose his mind. 

“Let me fuck you then.” Jungkook whines out, the fingers digging into your sides helping you keep the momentum, the resounding smack of your skin connecting filling up your room in the dirtiest way.

“Mm, tried that already.” You mewl out when his hands slam you down even harder, the tip of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, making a shudder rack through your body. He feels the way your walls flutter around him, a wicked smile spreading on his lips when he sees the way you try and fail to act unaffected.

“You got too distracted.” You continue with a slight tremble to your voice, your free hand trailing up your torso until you’re fondling your tits in front of him, twisting and pinching your nipples until you’re keening from your own ministrations.

Jungkook lets out a curse as he plants his feet on your mattress, the action jostling you forward until both your hands are planted firmly on his chest, a squeal of surprise slipping out of you. As much as you liked to act like you loved being in charge Jungkook knew you too well to leave it at that.

The way you all but sob as he pistons his hips up into you spells it out, you liked being manhandled, jerked around in his grasp and Jungkook revels in it, in knowing that for this brief moment you needed him.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out, collapsing on top of him as he ruts into you in a brutal pace, the raunchy squelching with each thrust of his hips only making another gush of wetness escape you, leaving his cock glistening in your arousal each time he pulls out.

Jungkook laughs now, a teasing edge to it as he watches the way you crumble above him, the bratty responses programmed in your head and filed underneath his name being wiped from your mind as he spears you open on his cock.

“Not distracted anymore huh?” He taunts, a choked moan dying in his throat when you tighten around him as his cock curves just right inside of you.

A fog falls over your mind, too heady with pleasure to understand his question until he’s flipping you back over once more, his cock staying nuzzled inside of you. A huff leaves you at the change of position, turning into whimper when he hooks his arms around your knees and pulls them forward, reaching deeper inside of you with each roll of his hips.

“I asked you something Y/N.” Jungkook pants, the tingling pleasure creeping up his spine at his approaching orgasm, his brows pinching on his forehead as he ebbs it away, intent on focusing on you first.

A sharp snap of his hips clears the fog, your head turning to the side as a gasp rips through your throat at the delicious way he pounds in to you, “J-jungkook, ah–“ you murmur, almost delirious with lust and he wishes he could capture this moment in his brain forever, the way you sound so needy for him only, “no nngh, not distracted, you fuck me so good.” You slur in a way he can just barely understand.

He knows though, with the way your back arches up, your hands twisting and pulling at your sheets as he continued the deliberate roll of his hips. Whenever Jungkook was around you he was more often than not buried to the hilt inside of you, knowing the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm well enough to know that you were teetering dangerously on the edge.

Your chest heaves as you feel the coil winding up inside of you, a desperate cry of more being thrown out and he can’t deny you. His pace never falters, bringing his hands towards your face and up against your lips, brushing along them until you open up just enough for them to slip inside.

He lets out a pleased groan when your tongue laps at his digits, your lips wrapped around his fingers and sucking as if it was his cock, swirling around them like your favorite candy that gets pulled away too soon. Whatever complaint you had at the loss dies when you feel those same drenched fingers snake down your torso and press against your aching clit, the tight roll of his fingers combined with the urgent thrust of his hips turning you into a blubbering mess.

“You called me for a reason babe,” he lets slip, his own words wounding him as he says them out loud, admitting to knowing that he was being used for your pleasure, “you gotta let me do what you called me for right?”

A pathetic whine is all you give him, one of your hands coming up to spread across his back, your nails digging into his skin in a slight burn that leaves him hissing.

“Right.” You keen, your own hips rolling up in time with his, desperate for the release that was blossoming inside of you.

He feels the way your walls get impossibly tight around him, your nails leaving half moons in your wake, littering his back with indents that only serve to send him rushing closer to his own release.

“Fuck, you gonna cum for me?” He asks gently, his fingers rolling over your clit in a way that nearly makes you shriek, “Gonna get my cock all nice and messy?”

“Ah, y-yes,” you cry out, a helpless gasp leaving you as a final thrust of his hips sends you flying over the edge. Bursts of light flash behind your lids in a way that resembles fireworks as you squeeze your eyes shut, your muscles tensing up as your climax rushes through you in waves, crashing against the shore of your mind and bringing you back to the present, leaving you laying limp and whimpering as you slowly come down.

Jungkook continues to fuck you through your orgasm, your pulsing walls fueling the fire inside of him as he rocks in to you with more desperation. His eyes are glued to the fucked out look on your face, your lips wet and shiny as you pout out and mewl underneath him, begging him to cum inside of you.

Fuck, how could you say things like that to him and expect him not to fall for you?

Jungkook takes it as an order, doubling over you and burying his face into the crook of your neck as he ruts into you, his hips finally losing the grace they always had, stuttering with need until he’s cumming with a guttural moan of your name.

Your hands rake through his hair as he fills you up, soft yanks against his scalp that only leave him grunting against your skin while he gives another handful of shallow thrusts into your dripping cunt, stilling his hips, his arms giving out on him.

As he lays on you in a heap, the both of you being exhausted from getting your fix, you give him a moment to recover. His soft breaths hit your skin, your sore legs stretching out after he released his hold on them but he was still buried inside of you, leaving you feeling sticky and a little uncomfortable.

“Kook.” You whine, your fingers jabbing at his sides a little too harshly to come across as playful. The sweat on your skin was becoming tacky and the added heat from his body only aided in making you more desperate for a shower, desperate to get him off of you.

“Hm?” He grunts out when your fingers dig lower on his sides, squirming on top of you as if he didn’t weigh a thing, like he wasn’t just a mass of muscle that was slowly cutting off your oxygen supply.

“Get off.” You groan, both your hands cupping his sides and trying your best to haul him off. He doesn’t relent this time, knowing he was toeing the line by the tone in your voice.

Jungkook pushes himself up and off of you, hiding the groan with a clear of his throat as he pulls his cock out of your sensitive core, not getting a chance to properly stare at the way his cum coats your folds because the second he’s off of you, you’re sitting up on your bed.

He rests on his haunches as you card your fingers through your hair, fixing the bumps and knots he had caused as you stand up. The curve of your ass draws him in, he wants to reach out and touch you but his hands stay glued by his side. All he can do is watch as you saunter through out your room like he wasn’t still there, sitting naked on your bed.

The initial sting of this had left him a while ago, having grown accustomed to the routine that followed. Hardly any words ever followed this. Jungkook can only pull his lips together as he steps off your bed, grabbing his discarded underwear and jeans off the floor as you make a beeline for your shower.

He takes his sweet time buttoning his jeans, hearing the soft mist of the water splashing against the tub, along with the song you played on your speaker. A smile sneaks its way onto his face when he hears your gentle singing echo through the open door.

Jungkook allows himself this much time, his eyes roaming your room, seeing the traces of you in forms of posters framed to the wall, the mess of stickers and books sprawled across your desk, photos of you smiling and laughing with friends. He finds himself wishing that he could take the place of one of those photos one day, a snapshot of the two of you smiling in the same way, out in the open world instead of being confined in the four walls of your room like a dirty secret.

It’s that same wish that keeps him rooted on your bed, the same confession begging to come out at his new childish want. Jungkook can only blame himself for this, you had never expressed desire for something more and even though you had an inkling that Jungkook’s feelings lingered a little too deeply, he was the one who remained. He was the one who came to your beck and call no matter what time it was, regardless of what he was doing. If he turned around and denied you he knew you wouldn’t fight him on it, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that you wouldn’t turn around and find someone else to fill his shoes. Jungkook found solace in knowing that he was still the one you reached out to when you needed to get your fill.

As the shower squeaks off he starts to panic, scrambling forward to grab his shirt and slip it on. Just as his head pops through the top you exit the steamy room with a towel wrapped snuggly around you, a look of obvious confusion on your face when you spot Jungkook still in your room.

“Oh, you’re still here.” You quip, a curious smile on your face that he can’t pinpoint.

“Yeah, sorry, I got...distracted.” He cringes at his excuse, the confidence he had for a confession slipping through the cracks the longer you stare at him.

You laugh at his remark, holding back the teasing comment you want to say in order to not keep him here longer than necessary. You rest against the side of your dresser as you eye him when he finally stands up, he looks hesitant for the first time, like he has something he wants to spit out.

“Did you need something?” You question, your eyebrow cocking up when he steps towards you with his hands fidgeting by his sides.

“I, uh,” he chokes out, his mind scrambling the sentence he wants to blurt out. How hard was it to tell you how he felt, just ask you out for coffee, not even dinner because that seemed too formal, something that would scare you off.

“I kinda have somewhere I need to be at right now Kook.” You cut him off, the phone you held in your hand vibrating and lighting up just as you say that. His eyes find the screen, eyeing the contact name that said ‘Joonie’ with a handful of heart emojis tacked to the end of it. It vibrates a few more times, an influx of messages from him filling your phone and it doesn’t take much guessing for Jungkook to realize that wherever you needed to be was with whoever this guy was.

And just like that the confession dies in his throat once more, your soft lips pressing into his in the first kiss of the night, succeeding in welding the treasure chest shut in the way you always did. It doesn’t prevent him from shutting his eyes and enjoying the kiss, even when he knows its intent is to shut him up.

You pull away with a light smack, pressing your lips together at the dazed expression on his face as he blinks back to reality, “Okay, I’ll see you around then?” He finally finds his voice, digging himself deeper into this like he always did.

“Sure Kook, see you.” You wave at him, giving him a sincere smile as he fumbles on his way out of your room like a dork.

Once he closes your apartment door behind him he sags against the wood, desperately wanting to bang his head against it but the last thing he needed was to have you thinking his banging was this Joonie person knocking.

“Next time,” he breathes out to himself, “next time I’ll tell her.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Restraint

Comandante Veracruz x afab!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only), bondage, edging, orgasm denial, teasing, toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare

gif by @thewaythisis​

~

You whimpered as you tugged at your restraints. You found yourself on your back on Veracruz’s bed, naked, with your limbs each tied to the corners. He stood at the foot of the bed with a satisfied smirk on his face. He always enjoyed when you were splayed out and completely helpless for him. You looked up at him with half lidded eyes as you silently pleaded for him to do something, anything, other than stand there and watch you squirm.

“Do you like that cariño?” he teased you as he circled the bed, “Knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” Veracruz ghosted a hand over your skin, “And you’re helpless to do anything about it…”

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your lips as you strained against your binds.

Veracruz had come back from a mission in a mood, as he usually did. But this time, it wasn’t because something went wrong. Instead, his superior left him with all the clerical work, which sat on his desk at the far corner of his bedroom untouched. The comandante decided to have some fun with you before he got to the more mundane part of his duties.

This time, however, “fun” had a different meaning, and you quickly figured that out as he remained fully dressed while you were completely nude and bound to his bed. A weak whine escaped your lips as you begged him to do something, anything, other than just stare at you.

“Always so needy, cariño,” Veracruz’s voice was low as he ran his fingers up and down your body in feather-light touches.

“Since when do you complain, V?” your eyes fluttered shut but you grinned at your comeback.

“Oh do not mistake my remarks for complaints,” he responded as he reached under his bed for the little black box he kept. At the rustle of movement, you opened your eyes and watched as he took out a thick vibrator with a notch at the base. You licked your lips as you shimmied your hips in anticipation.

He carefully kept his eyes off of you; Veracruz knew if he saw the lustful look in your eyes that his resolve would break, and he wanted to draw this out as long as he possibly could. With his eyes focused on the toy, he coated it generously with lube before he set the box down and settled between your forced open legs.

It was only then that Veracruz let himself look up at you. Your eyes met for several intense moments, and you knew exactly what his gaze meant without any words needed. No one could read him quite like you could. It was a look that said you were in for a more thrilling time, and your safe word was always in play.

You nodded, the silent contract sealed, and the comandante slowly pushed the toy into you. A moan from deep in the back of your throat filled the room as he stuffed you full with the vibrator. Veracruz felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sounds you made, but he ignored it.

He watched with bated breath as the toy disappeared inside you, and he didn’t stop until only the handle stuck out and the notch was pressed firmly against your clit. You panted and writhed against his touch as you felt your pussy stretch around it. You then let your head fall back against the pillows.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you arched your back to try to feel your comandante more, but you whined when you couldn’t feel more than just his hands on you. For several breaths, you kept your eyes closed as you adjusted to the girth of the toy. When you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised to find that he no longer sat between your legs.

“V…?” you looked around the room and you exhaled sharply when you saw he sat at his desk instead, “V! You...Ahh...”

He didn’t even turn around when he used the remote to turn the vibrator on, even when you moaned at the sensation. Veracruz turned his focus to the paperwork on his desk as he left the vibrator on the lowest setting. You mewled as rocked your hips as much as you could, but you couldn’t move too much with how tightly Veracruz bound you. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but after some time, you felt the vibrations become more intense. Your moans got louder every time you felt him turn the vibrator up; even in your haze, you weren’t sure how the comandante was able to keep his focus.

Suddenly, Veracruz turned it all the way up to the highest intensity and you couldn’t help the way you screamed in response. You felt your whole body tremble, and with the way you bucked your hips, the toy slid just enough to hit that sweet spot inside you. Your breathing became more ragged and your cries pitched even higher; you knew you were close.

But just as you were about to come, Veracruz turned the vibrator off completely. You whined as you tried to chase your climax, but you felt it fade quickly at the lack of stimulation. “V…” your voice was pathetic and you knew it, but you didn’t care.

He glanced over at you and licked his lips before he quickly turned away again. Your heavy breaths filled the room as Veracruz continued to work at his desk. His cock strained in his pants, and it took everything within him to not launch himself at you. But, he knew that it would be well worth it if he waited. Plus, he wanted to tease you some more. He didn’t want to fuck you until you were in tears and begged for him.

Once you were quiet, Veracruz started over again and flicked the vibrator on low. This time, your cries were louder to begin with, after having already been edged once. He kept it on low until he finished a page, and when he turned it over, he simultaneously increased the intensity. You cried out at the feeling, and it became a new pattern to turn it up once he finished a sheet.

After a few more pages, the vibrator was back at its highest intensity and you arched your back as moans and curses flowed from your mouth. Again, you felt your orgasm build and you groaned as your legs started to tremble. 

But, just like before, Veracruz shut the toy off just as you were about to come.

“V… please…” you whined as you strained against your binds. You flopped your head back as you choked back a sob at the loss.

He let out a low chuckle at your predicament, but made no move to do anything to help you. Instead, he started the cycle again, and again he stopped just as you were about to come. Every time he edged you, you cried out more desperately, and it only fueled Veracruz on more.

Tears filled your eyes as Veracruz repeated the cycle a few more times. Every time you cried out, you thought he would finally give in, but his sense of restraint was stronger than you thought. Once you were a completely blubbering mess, however, he finally stood and crossed the room to look at you again. Your eyes opened when you felt his own intense gaze on you, and you pouted as you pleaded for him to finally touch you.

Veracruz leaned in and hovered over you, but did not touch you just yet, “You look so delectable like this, cariño,” his voice was low as he spoke in your ear and bucked his hips against you so you could feel how hard he was, “You make it very hard to control myself.”

“Then don’t,” your voice was just above a whisper, “Please V…”

The groan that he let out went straight to your core and you clenched hard around the toy. His lips found your neck and sucked hard at the sensitive spot there, which made you cry out. Veracruz worked at that same spot until he was sure he left a big enough mark, then pulled away completely from you.

You whined at the loss of contact, but your whimpers were soon replaced with moans when he turned the vibrator on again. Veracruz watched you writhe for him for several minutes before he went back to his desk. As much as he wanted to pound into you until you had no voice anymore, he also wanted to drag this out as long as he possibly could.

Veracruz decided to take pity on you this time, however, and he left the toy on low while he finished the last of his work. Your moans that had started loud soon turned more muted and when the comandante turned back around, he saw that you drifted between sleep and consciousness. But even as you were half asleep, you still made such delicious noises and you still rocked your hips against the toy.

That was when the comandante’s resolve finally broke.

Just as you felt yourself start to drift off to fully fall asleep, Veracruz turned the vibrator all the way up and you jumped awake with a powerful orgasm. Your mouth hung open as you cried out in ecstasy and waves of pleasure crashed throughout your whole body. Tears fell down your face with abandon as you were finally allowed the release you had chased all evening. If it weren’t for the restraints, you would have flailed around everywhere, but your limbs remained bound to his bed.

“Is there a word you need to say to me, cariño?” he asked as he turned off the toy once you completely rode out your orgasm.

“No,” you breathed, “I just need a minute.”

You heard the faint beeps of his watch, and you knew he set a timer for exactly one minute. You closed your eyes and focused on your breaths as you calmed your spiraling emotions. After you counted what you guessed was one minute in your head, you mentally prepared yourself for him again. But, one minute came and went, and Veracruz was still quiet. In fact, he had actually set his watch for three minutes, but he was not going to tell you that.

While you took the time to recover, Veracruz stripped himself of his clothes and just watched you. Your breasts rose and fell with each breath, and the tears dried on the sides of your face. You looked a mess, but you never looked more enticing to Veracruz.

“V…” your voice was weak and you kept your eyes closed, “Please… I need you…”

He answered you with a growl as he slowly pulled the toy out of you. His cock twitched at the way you whimpered at the loss, but he made up for it by quickly lining himself up at your entrance. He paused before he pushed in, however, “Look at me, cariño.”

You opened your eyes slowly and were met with his own dark ones on you. It was only when you held his gaze that Veracruz pushed into you. You held his gaze even as you dropped your head back into the pillow as he stretched you out even more than the toy did. When he bottomed out inside of you, Veracruz let out a low groan that made you clench around him.

All the teasing he inflicted on you affected Veracruz as well, and he started pounding into you right away. Your moaning filled the room as you strained against the binds you were still in. He gripped onto your hips as he thrust himself in and out of you at a furious pace that he knew drove you wild. 

Veracruz moved one hand to rub at your clit, and he could tell by the way you arched your back and cried out his name that you were close again, “You have one more for me, cariño?” he cooed in a low voice, “Come for me.”

Just like that, your second orgasm took you over as you came with a loud scream. Veracruz wanted to watch you come undone again, but the need to come was too great, and he leaned forward to cover your body with his own as he came inside you with a growl. His arms trembled on either side of you as he fucked you through both your climaxes.

After one final thrust, Veracruz collapsed down on top of you, which made you grunt at the sudden weight. But, he was always careful and you were more surprised than hurt. The room felt warm, especially with the comandante’s body on top of yours as you both took several long, slow breaths to recover. You closed your eyes as you let your limbs go limp; there wasn’t much else you could do to move anyway with your ankles and wrists still bound to the corners of the bed. 

Veracruz laid still with his head buried in the crook of your neck and his cock still deep inside you. He placed father-light kisses to your skin, so light that if you hadn’t been so still you wouldn’t have felt them. His hands caressed your hips as he drew small circles with his thumbs. It wasn’t until you let out a soft groan that he finally pushed himself up and worked on freeing you.

He was silent, and you kept still with your eyes closed while you felt blood flow into your limbs for the first time in hours. Veracruz gently rolled your joints in his hands to make sure you were ok before he set the limb down on the bed and moved to the next one. Once you were completely unrestrained, he ran his hands up and down your body as a way to check for any injuries.

Satisfied that you were unharmed, Veracruz laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms. You happily obliged and rested your head on his chest and you let out a contented sigh when you felt him wrap his arms around you. You always loved the way the comandante wasn’t afraid to be rough with you, and he satisfied you like no one else, but you also greatly enjoyed these tender moments afterward when he took such good care of you. It was one of many aspects to him that only you got to see, and it was the one you were the most fond of.

“Feel better, comandante?” you asked with a soft chuckle after you felt him give you an extra squeeze to let you know that he was back from his post-sex haze.

That made him let out a single sharp laugh, “Yes cariño,” his voice was low and hushed. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that and you drifted off to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat. 

~

Notes: It’s been a minute since I posted about my asshole husband and I’ve missed him. This was actually an idea I’ve had in my head for awhile and I’ve gotten thirst asks about it too so this is a long time coming lol. I hope this makes up for the Veracruz drought lately tho!

[a-detraque-barista]

My Treasure

Dragon Izuku x Reader

Genre: smut, dragon au

Word Count: 2900+

Warnings: feelings of insecurity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it peeps), big dick Izu, cunnilingus, hints of a scent kink, dom izu if you squint

A/N: Tis finally here...dragon Izu! This is my second official smut ever but I’m kind of happy with how it turned out! There's a good chance I'll come back to this and make changes. This is only day 2 for the Izumonth collab so go ahead and check out the announcement post here. Made by the lovely peach herself @birds-have-teeth​

~~~

“Izuku, are you here?” your voice rang through the cave that you knew to be the jade haired dragon’s den. He had asked for you to come today so he could show you something. You had never gone farther than the mouth of the dark cave. The dragon didn’t want you to see what was inside. Maybe it was for the best, who knew what a dragon kept in his precious den. 

You had befriended the dragon only a few fortnights ago. Stumbling upon him while bathing ended up being a less gruesome consequence than what you would imagine. The man was shy and sweet to you. His face was so red as he spoke to you while only waist-deep in the small spring water pond. Even with his pointed horns and scaly skin, he never posed as a threat.

You must have apologized about a hundred times by the time he got out and dressed to speak to you properly. Even though it was you who barged in on him, he was apologizing for making you uncomfortable, when he did nothing of the sort. You were surprised to see how much muscle he could hide beneath his clothing. But already seeing him without, led you to know better.

After that, the two of you couldn’t help but meet daily. Sometimes outside of his cave and others inside your home. The dragon-man was respectful and did nothing to make you anything other than ease. Never did he make you feel unsafe, it was quite the opposite. He was so sweet you couldn’t believe that he was a dragon. Once he shifted into the large creature you’ve only heard about in children’s books and legendary stories passed down from ancestor to ancestor. And he took you up into the clouds, gliding above them and enjoying the wind on your face. It was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. 

Ever since then your feelings have been growing for the dragon boy who made your heart skip a beat. Although, you didn’t know how he felt about you. He probably only wanted to be friends with you...and you were alright with that. 

It only took a minute or two for the green-haired man to walk out of his domain to greet you, “Hello Y/n-chan.” His smile showed his canines that only caused you to smile back. “Are you ready to see it?”

‘It’ was still a mystery to you as he took your hand and pulled you inside the cave. At first, all you could see was darkness besides a small glimmer of light ahead of you. Holding onto Izuku’s hand tighter, you proceeded to walk alongside him to whatever he wished to show you. 

Slowly, the two of you were getting closer to what was glimmering through the shadows of the cave. For a second, your eyes had to close to block out the sudden exposure of bright light. When you opened them again your jaw dropped at the sight of what could only be called treasure. Mountains of gold and jewels. You’ve never seen so much treasure in your poverty-filled life. Is this what Izuku wanted to show you?

“This, Y/n-chan, is my hoard,” he stared at the gold with pride as he still held your hand in his. 

“What-what’s a hoard?” you almost felt embarrassed to ask but you were only a human girl, learning things about dragons little by little.

“A hoard, my dear, is where a dragon keeps all the things they’ve collected over the years. It’s their most prized possessions all in one place. Dragons go to unimaginable lengths to protect their hoards from being stolen or destroyed. And this is my hoard that I hold very close to my heart.”

The fact that Izuku was comfortable enough around you to show you his hoard spoke volumes. He chuckled at your expression as you still gaped at his beloved hoard.

“Come, I want to speak to you about something,” with his hand still around yours he pulled you to what looked to be a bed. Blankets and cloth, most likely stolen from villages, were in layers on top of one another to create a plush area for the man to sleep.

You sat down with him and he gently pushed your hood off from your head. Smoothing your hair down. This was strange, Izuku has never been so affectionate with you before. This really must be a serious matter.

“Y/n,” oh no. “You’ve been so kind to me these last couple of weeks,” what did you do wrong? “I want to know,” oh god. “How do you feel about me?”

You looked up with your eyes wet with tears about to fall, “What?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- gods," he took a second to gather his thoughts. "I mean do you have feelings for me?” his face had never been so red as he blurted out his question.

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute your dragon friend was being. Then you accidentally let out a giggle. Seeing his face fall, you took it into your hands and looked him dead in the eye, “Of course I have feelings for you.”

But that didn’t seem to erase the unease from his handsome features. So you explain yourself, “I only laughed because I thought I had made it painfully clear that I care about you more than a friend. It was practically embarrassing how much I showed it.”

This caused Izuku’s cheeks to pass heat to your hands and eyes to look elsewhere. And with his cheeks squished between your palms he muttered, “Well, I didn’t know.”

Your smile grew and so did his. Letting go of his face caused you to look behind his shoulder and see a familiar piece of clothing. Your brows furrowed as you focused on it as you realized that it was your nightgown that’s been missing for weeks.

“Izu, why do you have my nightgown?” you felt his body stiffen next to you. 

Damn. How was he supposed to explain this to you? Dragons had a keen sense of smell and everything had a certain scent. Even humans.

“I-I uh, well you see...I took it so my bed could smell like you,” his words came out jumbled but you were able to understand what he said.

“You, like my scent that much?” now it was your turn to have flushed cheeks.

“Of-of course I do. It’s my favorite…”

You sighed. As much as you were flattered, he still stole your clothes.

“You can keep that one, BUT no more stealing my clothing. If you want to borrow something to scent your bed than just ask,” you laid your head on his shoulder and softly scolded him.

“O-okay.” he tapped his two pointer fingers together, minding the sharp nails that came out about an inch. “You mean more to me than any of the treasure here.”

The statement was sudden and quiet. But with your head being next to his mouth, you heard him just fine. Your head lifted from his shoulder to look at him properly. He was about to stutter out a response before you could say anything that would reject his words but you kissed him instead. Your lips collided with his to interrupt anything he was going to say. 

After the initial shock passed, Izuku closed his eyes and reciprocated by pressing his lips into yours just as much. Both of your faces now felt hot as did the skin that was touching. You felt his tongue shyly poke at your lips, asking permission for entrance. Once your jaw slackened a bit, he slipped the appendage into your wet cavern and explored every inch. It startled you at first how long his tongue was but you had no complaints as it wrapped around your own.

His hands began to trace down your arms to hold your waist. Gently, he pushed you back to lay down, not once did he break the seal your lips created. 

From your waist, his hands roamed your body. Every curve and every dip was not left untouched. He had dreamt for several nights to be able to take you like this. He never thought his dreams would come true.

Izuku could feel his trousers become tighter by the second but all he could think about was getting you ready first.

“Izu- ah!” you went to say his name but a moan escaped from the back of your throat.

The reason for your sudden wanton moan was the feeling of Izuku’s finger slowly slipping between your lips and into your quivering hole. 

“My nails aren’t too sharp for you, are they my love?” he broke the kiss to ask his question but continued to leave open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

“Mm-mm,” suddenly you felt a nip at your skin.

“Use your words.”

You swallowed thickly and gathered as much of your voice as you could, “N-no.”

Feeling him smirk against your skin made you blush harder than it ever has before. A whimper left your mouth as you felt him insert another finger. Slowly, he pumped them in and out, every now and then he scissored them. Opening you up bit by bit so you would be able to take him without too much pain.

Izuku has lived for many decades, only bedding women every few years. He never had the urge to sleep with them unless his ruts were too painful to handle by himself. But right now, he’s feeling insecure. It’s been so long since he’s been with someone. And now that someone means more than anything to him and is lying in his bed. The last thing he wants to do is to get something wrong.

By the time he inserted a third finger, he was placing small bites along your collarbones. Leaving dark purple bruises on your skin made him feel joy knowing all the males in your village will see his marks. 

And his ears picked up on every little sound you made. All the whimpers and quiet moans caused by his fingers inside of you. He absolutely loved it. 

“Izu~ please give me more,” your heavy-lidded eyes looked down to his curly hair just above your chest.

Reluctantly, he stopped kissing your skin to look into your eyes, “I suppose since you asked so nicely.”

He worked his way down so his head was now between your things. Lifting your skirts up to see your already glistening lips, he took a sharp intake of breath. Your scent was so arousing, Izuku licked his lips and couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds before latching his mouth onto your bud. 

He sucked on it hard while continuing the stretching of your tight cunt. Switching from sucking and licking at your clit, his fingers began pumping faster. The clover green dragon was determined to see you fall apart by his mouth and fingers only. However, he could feel the effects of waiting as his bulge became almost painful. For now, he settled with gently rubbing his erection into the blankets.

You, on the other hand, were in a state of absolute pleasure. His thick and calloused fingers rubbed against your rigged walls, his nails very lightly scraping against the muscles. Moans were falling out from your mouth as Izuku kept sucking and licking at your sensitive and throbbing bud. 

For a split second, you felt empty as Izuku removed his fingers but replaced them with his tongue. His tongue was longer than a normal human’s, allowing him to reach further than even his fingers. He swept his thumb between your lips and began to circle your clit vigorously. This caused you to reach down to his unruly hair and tug at the strands. 

“Izuku-hah.”

He hummed into your opening that caused vibrations to work through your lower half. Soon, your body began to shake and Izuku worked faster to get you to come undone. Your thighs closed around his head and your back arched as you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard leave your mouth before. Izuku only stopped when you tugged at his strands more gently. Bringing his head up from between your legs, caused your face to flush once again seeing your fluids on his lips and chin. He licked his lips and wiped away what was on his chin with the back of his hand.

Izuku’s eyes were practically encased with his pupils. The green iris only being seen as a ring around the pupils. Using his nails, he tore away the pesky dress you have chosen specially for him.

And god, were you absolutely stunning. He just had to stop and stare. Examining and analyzing every spot of skin his eyes could take in. The staring had made you self-conscious and you brought your arms to cover your chest. This caused Izuku to finally blink out of his trance and furrow his brows. 

He leaned down to peck your lips, “I want to see all of you.” Gently, he moved your arms away and took you in for another few seconds. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it somewhere out of the way.

Trailing kisses around your breasts, he began to work on freeing himself from the very unwanted trousers that societal decency has cursed upon him. Once his member was free it sprung up and stood tall against his abdomen. While lapping and sucking at your nipples he worked his pants off and threw them elsewhere. 

He pressed his hips into yours leaving his cock between both of your stomachs while he gave your other breast the same attention. Slowly, he bucked his hips making precum leak from his tip. Izuku took his large cock into his hand and sat up to sit back on his haunches. This gave you the chance to see just how big he was. Your eyes almost widened to a comical size as you stared at it. The feeling of it against your stomach was not an accurate comparison to what you saw now. It was the biggest you’ve ever seen. There was the size and also the ridges along the bottom of it. 

Izuku could feel your hesitation once you saw his cock. So he began to massage your thighs, “Don’t worry my love. It won’t hurt too much. I promise.”

His words made you feel better as you took in a deep breath and nodded for him to continue. He gave himself a few slow pumps before rubbing the head between your lips and around your wet cunt that kept contracting out of anticipation. Slowly and gently, he pushed in his cock little by little. The stretch burned only a little once you relaxed enough for it to push in with ease. Making sure you showed no sign of wanting to stop, he pushed the rest of the way in. You moaned for what must’ve been the one-hundredth time that night. No one and nothing has ever reached so far into your body. You would’ve thought that the ridges would be painful, but they were dull and only added to the pleasure. 

The pace of hips was slow as you were still adjusting and felt only a tad bit of pain. It didn’t quite make sense why you were taking him so well for the first time. You thought he might have split you into two. But that thought quickly went away once his pace became quicker.

His thrusts were shallow at first before he heard you calling out his name like a mantra. Wrapping his arms beneath your knees he brought them closer to your chest so he could have a better angle. Now you could feel his cock going even deeper. On particularly hard thrusts you could feel the head nudge the opening to your womb. 

Izuku was grunting and groaning as he pounded into you. Your moans became louder as his thrusts became harder.

“Hn! Izu- fuck,” you tried to call his name but a moan stopped you.

“Gods, you feel so good, wrapped around me like this,” his words had you moaning like a whore. “It’s like you were made for me.”

His words only brought you closer to your release as his pace remained consistent. His nails were digging into the flesh of your thighs and sweat trailed down his nose to drop onto your chest. 

“You’re squeezing me so tightly-hah~ I don’t think I can last much longer-”

“Fu- ck, Izu. I’m gonna-”

Knowing what you were going to say, he bends his knees to get more balance before continuing. “It’s okay my love, just let go.”

He knew once he felt you release, he going to join you. His thrusts became uneven and sloppy as he leaned down once more to give you a searing kiss.

“Come with me,” he whispered while trailing his hand down between your legs and began to rub your clit in quick small circles. With the new pressure added it didn’t take you long to come undone. 

Your back arched, eyes rolled, and body shook as you practically screamed out his name. The clenching of your walls around caused Izuku to pump a few more times before holding still, burying himself at the hilt. The searing hot spurts of his cum added to your euphoric feeling. 

The two of you stayed still, catching your breath as Izuku’s cock kept pulsating. Between your panting, you decided to tease the dragon boy, “How long are you going to stay like this?”

He chuckled breathlessly, “You think it’s a lot now, wait until I have my rut in a few months.”

You laughed along with him, just imagining what his rut will be like. Once the two of you caught your breath, Izuku looked down at you, smiling. The love in his eyes made your heart skip.

He went to say something but you interrupted, “I love you.”

The dragon smiled once more, “I love you too, my lovely treasure.”

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

PLEASE PLEASE DO “you can hate me, you can dislike me but how could you cheat on me” something like that with a fem!reader!!,’s i love angst stories where the character is cheating on you its the perfect amount of heartbreak and i just love it so much

Hi anon! I love angst but this one brOKE ME. There is something so sad about scenarios like... and oof. Tears. But having said that, dont CHEAT yall its really shitty dont do it. 

How Could You? - Levi x reader, angst, cheating, modern AU

Your cup banged against the table for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. You were so tired. So tired. These days, it seemed nothing in your relationship went well. Fights were picked over nothing, sleeping back to back, hurt and frustration stewing long into the night despite promises made in the past to never go to bed angry.

You were both pulling away, the thing that was holding the two of you together was not necessarily love; comfort and familiarity forming stronger ties than the giddy passion that swept you so hard off your feet so many years ago.

“How many times have I asked you to put the dishes away this way?” you muttered, the silence in the room deafening.

“How many times have I asked you to clean up after yourself?” Levi shot back, eyes not even lifting from his laptop to give you the effort of a glare.

“That’s not the point here Levi! I just…I just wish you would do things my way.” You wrung your hands, the rearranged dishes seeming to make the most sense to you.

“Everything has to be your way doesn’t it?” Laptop lid was slammed shut, eyes finally looking into your own, but suddenly, the fight wasn’t about dishes anymore.

“I’m going to go to the coffeeshop to work. Can’t get any peace in here anymore.” Levi continued, ripping the power chord from the wall.

“Don’t bother,” you said, already walking away to pack a suitcase. “I’m going home for a couple days. Clear my head.”

~

You remembered a time when you were happy, when giggles bubbled from your lips more often than complaints. You remembered a time when the only thing that was broken was the seal on sweet presents he would bring you rather than dishes on the floor. You remembered when the hand that comforted you soothed tears that were caused by people other than himself. It seemed so far in the past now.

The more time you spent at home, the more you realized perhaps…your mother was right, as she always was. You were too selfish. Things had to be your way. Vegetables cut a certain way, certain knives used for certain things, the dishes placed in a certain way…Perhaps you were too selfish for wanting to make things work, because deep inside you knew how special Levi was, how much he meant to you, and how despite all the fights, he would still press a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving out the door. Selfish or not, you still loved him.

Your suitcase rattled up the stairs, and as the door swung open, apologies were already spilling out from you. But the house was empty. Dishes still on the rack from where you left them a day ago, bed still made.

“Y/N?”

You spun around, but your relief was shattered when you took him in. Creased clothing, the same that he wore the day you left, staggering steps, and squinted eyes. Marks littered his neck, faded red lipstick marring his shirt and the sweet smell of a perfume that wasn’t yours making you sick.

“Levi…”

He just shook his head, the look on his face making your stomach drop.

“Tell me you were with Erwin and the others Levi. Tell me. Please.” You could feel your own tears welling. You knew he wasn’t with the others, but you had to hear it from him. “Please…”

“Baby - ”

Your grip on your suitcase slacked, and neither of you paid attention to the heavy thud as your things hit the floor. He never called you baby.

“No. Levi you are not serious. You...”

He just shook his head at you again, regret all over his face as he stepped forward, hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“I thought we were - ” he stopped, hands hovering an inch away from you, “I just wanted to feel wanted for a change.”

“Did you?”

“Y/N...”

“No Levi, I need to know. Did you? Feel wanted?”

All he could do was look at you, as if seeing you for the first time in months. Neither of you remember how it came to this. Two imperfect people trying to make things work, neither willing to admit that the other was as close to perfection as you could get. Neither of you could have imagined it coming to this.

“I’m sorry.” All he could offer.

“Why Levi? You can hate me, you can dislike me, but how could you cheat on me?”

“Bab – Y/N. No, please. Can we…please.”

“I was,” you choked past the lump in your throat, “I spent yesterday thinking of how to apologize for everything. For being so selfish. But you…I’m so stupid”

Another step towards you, he was so close, so close to pulling you into his arms. You wanted to bridge the gap, wanted to pretend this was still salvageable, that there was still a chance for you.

“Don’t touch me Levi. Looking like that, her lipstick, her perfume, her fucking marks on your neck?”

The suitcase that was your way of apologizing, of making a change towards a better together was picked up again, but this time, it was burdened with memories that you would never be able to look back on.

Brushing past him, you left your key on the table after working it off your keychain, a final look around the place you called home, and the man you called your own.

“How could you?”

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Remembered how much I love this Ohtori au and I haven't been able to get this out of my head so:

He didn't make a habit of watching the students leave class, but he caught a peculiar smell by the door and turned to find the source when he should have been getting ready to leave himself.

Roses. He couldn't stand the smell of roses. Like those cryptic letters he received as a student, or those hands that made themselves too comfortable on his shoulders. Sometimes he could still feel the knuckles grazing his cheek, twisting his hair into curls, cooing about princehood, about the adult world and power.... The Car.... The Sister....

But he saw her.

No, not the Sister, the Bride!

He hadn't felt himself launch out of the chair so much as see the girl get closer, even though she was walking away. Same posture, same gait. He hadn't felt his arm extend to grab her shoulder and turn her around. Her face didn't show any annoyance, even, just the same tepid disappointment he always remembered. Eyes that seemed to be somewhere else. Glossy black hair pinned up in a way that reminded him of a 1950s movie star. The same as she always was.

"Sir?" she asked, prompting him to realize he had been staring in complete silence for about a full minute. The other students had all filed out of the classroom and headed to their dorms by then. They were alone and his breathing echoed off the walls.

"I met you," he said, still trying to string the words together, "generations ago. You attended this school when I did. The student council, the duels, you were... you gave out the...."

She had thorns around her neck and all down her arms then, skirts that seemed to be made of giant petals. How the image huanted him, how her silent glare that he swore held back tears jolted him from sleep for years and years.

"Why aren't you older?!?" he spat out. His grip tightened to where he squeazed all blood from his knuckles, but her face didn't betray any pain.

"Sir, I have to study," she said, plain as day. "I have a test tomorrow."

He let go of her but did not turn away. She did and gracefully walked to her dorm like the others. Her shoulders would definitely bruise, but she didn't seem to notice. Her steps sounded down the hall, but the scent didn't fade. He turned to gather his things, and there it was on his desk.

A rose, damned thing, a white one, with the stem trimmed. Just long enough to pin to your pocket.

The duels.

No.

The delicate perfume was nauseating and in one smooth motion he swept the rose's severed bloom into the trash basket by his feet.

Those awful duels.

He didn't like to remember, but oh, that smell took him back. The entire way home he remembered the dueling game, letters from End of the World, all of it.

He had settled in his on-campus accomodated room, leaning back in a soft chair he found both ugly and only moderately comfortable. Memories of his time as a student at Ohtori were normally so distant, shapeless, as if made of smoke or water that tinted the sun a different color. A good half of the time he was convinced they were just recurring dreams. He prefered it that way. They were not pleasant times, barring a few scattered moments. But it all came rushing back, clear as a bell and loud as Judgment Day.

He had an old photograph of them and even kept it in a frame. It seemed like the right thing to do. He'd put it on his nightstand, but flipped it down when the nightmares came back. It only took a few days. He held it in his hands, mentally reciting the names.

Bumi, always talking philosophical nonsense; Piandao, the youngest but perhaps most studious; Kanna, sweet but not to be trifled with; Pakku, arrogant like no other; Iroh, the Prince; Hama, the anger boiling under the surface may have been all that kept her alive.

Could they even be called friends? "Colleagues" or even "accomplices" felt more appropriate. Iroh was everyone's friend, competitive and boastful, but always happy with polite conversation. Hama was only interested in sharing kindness with Kanna and intended on knocking everyone else down a peg. These were the extremes of the scale.

And the girl seated on a chair in the center of the sanding student council, perfect posture and ankles crossed just so. Her hands were folded in her lap and her eyes were unfocused and distant, but they seemed to him to be contemplating escape. And of course, her signature not-quite-frown. There was no doubt to be had that she was the same girl he saw leaving class.

Our Rose Bride, Mai.

But how? He had ruled out the idea that she could be a granddaughter to the Mai he met all those years ago. He had Kanna's granddaughter in his class, a Miss Katara Penatac who had refused to take off that tacky rose ring that student council members still wore. In her own gentle yet professionally insistant tone, she pointed out that the dresscode did not forbid rings, only limited the wearer to one on each hand for practicality. She said she would be happy to comply if the headmaster agreed that she hadn't any right to wear her ring, but until then she was quite sure it was protected as per the school rulebook she was given when she had been enrolled.

He had seen what had happened with teachers who pushed her too far. All the gentleness melted away and she began shouting and calling them tyrants. She wasn't quite charismatic enough to get the students to rally behind her, but none defended the teacher either. From that point on those teachers began to lose the stundents' respect, little by little. Definitely Kanna's, and looking at her likeness at that age the resemblance was obvious, but a resemblance isn't a copy. Not like with Mai.

He moved the picture to his other hand, and notice he had covered his own face with his thumb. That's right, he was barely in this photo and almost argued that he should take it. Much of his left side wasn't even in frame. He'd hoped they would ask him to leave, that they would find him too weak or too cowardly -- he couldn't even gather the courage to leave on his own just yet -- but their mercy was relentless.

He'd managed to win one of the duels, to win the Rose Bride, once. She became his roommate after that, somehow, in spite of that not being allowed. She scrubbed the dorm and polished his shoes and made him tea that didn't taste as good as he'd hoped. It felt off but entirely harmless until she insisted on sharing a bed. Her eyes, they weren't hollow or empty like many said they were. Some part of her was very aware that she was keeping herself in people-pleaser mode and it seemed to him that part wanted to cry out and scream. He cautiously acquiesced, but when she started touching him, he moved to the other bed. When she followed, he insisted on sleeping on the floor. When he awoke, he saw she had fallen asleep at the very edge of the bed. Her arm draped off the side and her pinky finger curled around his. He lost the next duel and told himself it was an accident. After that he grew more and more disinterested.

"I don't get it, Jeong Jeong," Iroh had said to him once after sparring. "Your form is good but you never follow through."

"Maybe I just don't want to hurt anyone," he replied.

"Of course you won't hurt anyone! It's just a game."

And it was just a game, until it wasn't. Until the warped half of Dios, and his car rides in the dark, his hands and words, memories of which still stuck to his mind like grime under fingernails. How he had tried to make it all seem silk and silver, but it was actually only made of rot and impossible promises.

And there was a new student council.

Wearing the same rings.

With the same Rose Bride.

He had often asked himself why he came back. The academy caused him nothing but pain and perhaps even ought to be shut down. He'd told himself it was to protect students from what had befallen him. How could he say that when it was all happening before his eyes? Had he dared hope these children had the courage that he didn't in the same situation? That they would come to him for guidance? The photo felt suddenly too heavy so he returned it to its place: face down on the nightstand.

If there's one thing Iroh was correct about, it was the power of comfort, and especially the comfort to be found in a cup of tea. Jeong Jeong filled his electric kettle with enough water for one cup and grabbed a mug with a little wire basket tucked inside. The tea he saved for such occasions was a hand-blended loose leaf from France. It was eqaul parts green and white tea, with bits of lavender and mint and he kept it in little ceramic jar.

But when he opened the cupboard, his tea jar was missing, and in its place was one of glass. Filled with dried rose petals and blooms.

The stems on them only just long enough to pin to a breast pocket.

"What in the world?" He could hear the water building itself up in the kettle. A breath more than a whistle. "Who could have...?"

He pushed past the aversion and reached for it to throw it out. No need to present it to the headmaster, a simple complaint would do. But the jar wore its own crown of thorns the same color as the lid just under the mouth, and his old eyes couldn't see the difference between them. The unexpected pain was enough to make him drop it. It shattered just as the kettle began to screech. Long dead roses made to maintain their shape rather than rot as nature intended spilled out at his feet.

Among them, a letter with that same dreaded rose seal. It was addressed "to the Boy who was Not a Prince, but remembers a Witch from his past," in ink not yet dry.

He stood there staring with that ear-splitting whistling in the background, petrified. He shut off the kettle and swept the glass shards and crumbling rose matter into the garbage. The letter found itself in his hands. It smelled like the others, and the handwriting matched, from what he remembered. Who had seen him recognize the girl?

Somehow, Mai was still a student at Ohtori Academy, and Jeong Jeong had to wonder. If he had fought for her as Iroh had until he won his something eternal, if he had said anything to her about being her own person, would she have grown up with them? If he had given her reason to leave, as he had only left the student council a day after that car ride, would she have freed herself of this place? Why did he come back to teach all those years ago? He told himself it was to protect new generations of students, but that couldn't be true, could it? Was it penance for penance's sake?

He held the letter, positioning his thumbnail to peal off the seal as if it was instinct. He hesitated. Why should its contents matter? What good could possibly come of it?

"Perhaps I'm chasing after what should have been," he admitted to himself.

He lit the damn thing on fire, holding it over the sink in case he dropped it. He watched the little flame lick at and devour the envelope and the pages inside. The scent of roses was gradually overpowered with the scent of smoke.

"Perhaps I'm hiding from the world." Embers lept off the paper and put themselves out in the drain. "Hiding in what I already know."

[trashywritestrash]

Marry Me.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K+

Warnings: Fluff, Tony and reader are naked but it isn’t sexual, idk I just got to thinking about Tony’s deadpan way of delivering jokes that it inspired this, I know it’s trash and so am I but please be nice

gif by moodbig

Tony Stark rarely allowed himself time to relax. He always had to be on the move, constantly working. While he knew it was getting to be a problem, it did make moments like this even more special. Right now, he is lying in bed with his beautiful girlfriend; both of them completely naked underneath the thick duvet, but neither of them mind it.

It’s late in the day. Tony probably missed a meeting or something that he’ll get scolded for later, but he didn’t care. Y/N was awake already, they both have been up for hours just sitting in comfortable silence. In one hand, she held a tablet. After a while, she learned that reading one-handed was easier with a tablet rather than a physical book. Sometimes, Y/N would bring a large book to bed with her instead of the slim device, but Tony would always complain that he couldn’t hold her hand if she was using them both. It was a small sacrifice she was willing to make for her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The title upset Tony. It sounded immature; he was too old to still only be a boyfriend. Y/N never voiced complaints on the subject, but Tony knew that her friends made comments about him when they thought he couldn’t hear. ‘I can’t believe you’re not married yet’, ‘when’s he gonna seal the deal’, ‘tell him you’ll leave if he doesn’t propose’. He had no opposition to proposing, but hearing those comments made him hold off on doing it simply out of spite. Being petty was one of his specialties.

But now, he was tired of waiting. So, without even looking at her, he spoke.

“You should marry me.”

Y/N raised a brow, still reading her book, “I should, huh? Why would I want to do that?” Her voice was steady and sarcastic, even if her heart was doing backflips.

“Well for starters: I am incredibly attractive. I am also drowning in money.” Tony turns his head to the side so he can look at her with his signature smirk.

She rolls her eyes, “Is that all?”

“I’m really good in bed.”

Y/N almost cracks a grin before stopping herself, “Not exactly what I was looking for.” She doesn’t turn to face him, but Tony sees her looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

He puts on a goofy smile, “And I love you.”

After a moment, Y/N turns her head to fully look at him. She stares into his eyes, almost like she’s searching them for answers. Then, she goes back to her tablet, “Okay.”

“Okay like you’ll do it?” Tony had been doing his best to hide the nervous tone in his voice. Any moment, JARVIS could out him by warning them that his heart rate was too high.

Y/N sets her tablet aside and rolls over to lay on her side. She summons all of her strength and gives him a playful smile, “Sure.” There’s still a nagging voice in her head that says he could be joking, so she’s trying not to get her hopes up... But Tony wouldn’t take the joke this far, would he?

“Cool,” Tony reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a small black box. He hands it to her and Y/N can’t stop the grin that covers her face at the feel of the velvet on her fingers. “I had Happy pick this up for me a while ago. You like it? If you don’t like it, we can go pick out a different one tomorrow.”

Y/N opens the box and tries not to choke on air. They make diamonds this big?! It’s gotta be at least six carats. The band is solid gold; Y/N doubts he would get gold-plated. Tony goes all in. The inside of the lid has one word in beautiful script.

Cartier

Of course. Y/N half-expected a bright blue Tiffany’s box, but she should have known even that would be too ‘common’ for Tony’s tastes. It suddenly hits her that she still hasn’t said anything, “Wow... Okay. This is- this is a lot.”

Tony bites his lip, “Too much?” He told Happy he wanted a rock big enough so that he’d always see it. So it would be a conatant reminder of his married status. Y/N holds in a little laugh.

“It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong—“

“...But..?” Tony is trying not to panic.

“—But... you know you don’t have to bribe me, right? I don’t need a big rock to convince me to marry you.” The smile on her face melts away all of Tony’s worries. He feels himself loosen back up as his smirk returns.

“I know it’s not necessary, but I thought the bribe would be appreciated nonetheless.”

They laugh as Y/N shakes her head, “Tony, this ring costs more than me!”

“Oh, so you’re for sale now? How much? I need to make sure no one can steal you from me.” She shoves his arm with a smile.

“Shut up, you know what I mean! I’m too poor for you.”

“Actually, you’re not. You have half of everything I have.”

“We’re not married yet. And that’s only if we get a divorce. Are you planning on that or something?” Y/N teases, raising a brow and poking his side.

“No, but if we’re married for a couple years before you come to your senses, I’ll give you half without a fight.” Tony shrugs, but he is absolutely joking. He’d be heartbroken if she left him.

Y/N laughs, knowing he’s kidding. “No offense, but I don’t want half of Stark Industries. I’d be good with like... twelve percent.” Tony’s head shoots back as he laughs.

“Twelve percent it is.” He reaches out and they shake on it before he pulls her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “But just to be clear, you really are going to marry me, right? You weren’t joking?”

Y/N’s face scrunches as she laughs, “Yes, I was being serious, Tony. Don’t make me take it back.”

“I’m just gonna put this on...” He gently slides the diamond ring on her left hand, “Before you change your mind.”

“Do you want to tell everyone? I mean, we’re not a secret or anything, but I know how the team can be.” Tony smiles at her concern but shakes his head.

“It’s okay, I want them to know. That way Barnes will know to stop making goo-goo eyes at you whenever he thinks I can’t see it.” Y/N snorts before she realizes he’s not kidding.

“Wait, really?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh, not happening. JARVIS, tell the team the good news before Y/N can back out.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and laughs at Tony being worried for nothing. She’s too happy right now to be mad at him for announcing their engagement through the tower AI. They can have that talk later. Right now, it seems, they have some explaining to do. As JARVIS makes a PA announcement to the entire tower, the couple can hear the other Avengers, who are just one floor down, yelling.

Y/N laughs, “And that’s our cue. Time to go explain ourselves.”

—————

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[littlemisslol-fic]

Summary: Twelve years ago, the Kingdom of Corona fell after the demon Zhan Tiri infected the minds of its people. The only survivor was Princess Rapunzel..

.Or so they thought.

An amnesiac orphan named Varian, struck by the need to branch out on his own, follows a mysterious necklace towards what he knows must be his missing family. On the way he scoops up three companions: a young ex-noble named Nuru, a fiery boy called Yong, and, to top it off, a handsome rogue named Hugo. Together they travel for Vardaros, unaware of the demons dogging Varian's heels.

Zhan Tiri, after all, isn't finished with her revenge.

Notes: Hey all! Gunna preface by saying that is is a present for my beautiful friend jjgg_art for her birthday! Hope it was a good one, babe ❤️❤️This is her Anastasia AU, written out! She drew art for it a while ago and it lived rent-free in my brain, so here it is!

(Be warned though, she’s LONG)

 They say that good things were never meant to last.

 The kingdom of Corona, in the peak of its life, was beautiful. It was the city of light, a towering monolith of white marble and shining gold. Its spires raised high into the always-blue skies, like white crests on perfect waves. It was a city of golden wonders, of joy and love and contentment unknown through the Seven before.

 But it was never meant to go on forever.

 Like gold eventually tarnishes, or limestone wears away with the pounding surf, Corona eventually fell. The royal family, led by King Frederic and his wife, Queen Arianna, had grown compliant. Weak. Beneath the shining veneer, Corona was beginning to crack.

 And into the cracks, slipped the darkness.

 It was said that Zhan Tiri herself had seen the prosperity of Corona, had seen the glittering spires and sunny skies, and had grown jealous of the city. In turn, she sent down an army led by her three disciples, to rage through the city without mercy. They targeted many, but above all the royal family had been the ones most as risk.

 It happened on a cold winter’s night, one where the Coronian royals were hosting a Ball to celebrate the end of another year. The crown princess Rapunzel, only twelve at the time, had been the light of the party, dancing through the crowds with an ease that seemed almost natural. She weaved through the crowd, her brunette hair bobbing softly with the motions. The princess hummed to herself, scanning the crowd with a curious eye. The adults around her danced with perfect timing, even as she scooted past them in a flurry of purple fabric. Green eyes widened when she caught sight of a familiar head of black hair, nearly swallowed up by the crowds.

 A small bag of velvet was in her hands. Her grip tightened on it, her smile widening as she beelined towards the other end of the ballroom. Her quarry was hiding near a large pillar of white marble, his blue eyes wide as he looked at all the people.

 “Varden!” She cooed, startling the child in front of her. He couldn’t have been older than six, the boy still almost a toddler with how much baby fat was still in his cheeks. The boy caught sight of her, his baby face breaking out into a wide smile that scrunched his cheeks and eyes.

 “Hi ‘Punzie!” He said, holding his arms out. Rapunzel smiled, hugging him tightly. When the split, the black haired boy looked around the ballroom with a nervous face. “Have you seen my daddy?” He asked, “I can’t find him…”

 “I’m sure he’s around,” Rapunzel soothed, “Besides, I have something for you!”

 The boy’s blue eyes went wide, his worry immediately forgotten. “For me?!” he gasped. Rapunzel nodded, handing him the velvet bag with a grin.

 “I know you’re sad about my family and I going on that trip to Vardaros,” she said, trying to ignore how his little face fell at the reminder, “So, I thought this might help with the wait!”

 He opened the gift with small hands, looking curiously as a small box fell out as he tipped the bag into his waiting palm. Rapunzel took his hand, holding up a small pendant in the shape of the Corona Sun.

 “See, watch,” She cooed to him, inserting the small key into a slot on the side. She turned it with three gentle movements, watching the boy’s face as it lit up with delight. As Rapunzel removed the pendant from the music box it opened, playing a little tune. Varden gasped as a little automation within began to move, slowly miming out fighting invisible enemies. Rapunzel smiled as he watched the little dance, holding the music box close. She hummed along to the tune the music box played, slowly coaxing him into singing along with her.

 “Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varden’s voice floating along with hers, “Once upon a December,”

 “Wow, Punzie!” He said softly, “It’s our lullaby!”

 She smiled as the box finished its song, the little lid closing tightly. She passed him the necklace, smiling as he put it on “Exactly,” she said, hugging him tightly as he leaned into her side. “So you’ll never forget how much I love you, even when we’re apart.”

 The boy’s face split into a massive grin, small hands hugging the box close. “Thank you!” He chirped, “Thank you so much!”

 Rapunzel went to say something else, but was cut off by a sudden, loud scream. Both her and Varden startled at the loud noise, turning towards the door. Both of them gasped at the sight of the doors slamming open, the hallways beyond consumed in flames. People from the town swarmed inside, holding weapons high as they flooded the ballroom. The guests screamed, backing away as the mob attacked, quickly overwhelming anyone in their way.

 Rapunzel shrieked, covering Varden’s eyes at the first sign of blood.

 Things happened quickly after that, the princess running from the room with her little brother in tow as chaos broke. Varden yelped as he was pulled along, barely keeping up on his short legs. Rapunzel did her best to weave around panicking people, ducking in between legs as people scattered. The fire quickly burned through the halls, filling them with smoke.

 Rapunzel coughed into her free hand, still tugging her brother along. Varden followed without complaint, the boy gripping her hand tight. They both stopped when there was a loud gunshot from nearby, followed by a loud scream from up ahead. Rapunzel skid to a stop, Varden nearly tumbling into her as she frantically searched for a way out. The noise behind them grew louder and louder, angry shouting and screams filling the halls behind them. She frantically looked back and forth, unable to decide which way would be better- the smoke was getting thick, a cloying, irritating thing. She could feel the panic creeping in, moving higher in her throat. She didn’t know what to do.

 “Over here!” A voice called, cutting through the shouting.

 Rapunzel spun on her heel, coming face to face with a young boy, maybe about Varden’s age, peeking out of one of the servant’s hidden entrances in the wall. She gasped in relief as he waved them forwards, disappearing into the wall. She followed, panting for breath as the boy closed the hidden door, sealing them away.

 “C’mon,” the blond boy said, urging them forwards, into the darkness of the secret hallways. “They’re attacking the royalty, you guys have to go!”

  Rapunzel tugged her brother behind her, following the servant boy through the labyrinth within the palace. Her heart raced, the princess cringing as she heard screaming and sobbing coming from the other side of the walls. Smoke still filled the air, though less so. Varden sobbed behind her, sniffling as he followed her with his hand in hers. The music box was between the two of them, held in both their hands.

 Eventually the servant boy led them to an exit to the courtyard, where Rapunzel could see a hot air balloon waiting. Her Aunt Willow was already there, sneaking around. The blond boy waved them away, closing the door behind them once they left the safety of the walls. Rapunzel cringed at the cold, but rushed forward, tugging her brother behind her.

 “Aunt Willow!” She cried. The woman turned, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of them.

 “Children!” The brunette woman cried, “Come on, quickly!”

 Rapunzel ran, reaching the basket and jumping in. Varden tried to follow, but he was too short to easily jump the basket. Rapunzel reached for him, tossing the music box into the basket so she could use both hands, but the princess screamed as a loud bang rattled the courtyard. The balloon shuddered, suddenly lifting off.

 “Wait!” Rapunzel screamed, “Wait, he’s not in yet!”

 Willow was scrambling, trying to catch their cut lines. Rapunzel tried fruitlessly to tug her brother up into the basket, shouting at the exertion. She saw a flash of fuchsia light, the princess gasping as her brother was tugged from her arms, as if grabbed by a force. The boy screamed as he fell, plummeting down to the cobblestone meters below. He vanished into the smoke, going deathly silent.  Rapunzel wailed, unable to tear her eyes away from where he’d disappeared.

 “NO!” She screamed, tears overflowing. The balloon continued to rise, pulling away from the castle properly until they’d left it behind. Rapunzel felt herself be pulled into a hug by Willow, the woman trying to comfort her between her own sobs. The boy was not the only casualty that night, but his was the one that would haunt her. Rapunzel shuddered.

 She held onto the music box in a clawed grip, her tears falling soundlessly onto the porcelain.

 >>>><<<<

 Twelve Years Later

 The cold hit Varian like a slap the second he opened the door.

 With a shudder he pulled his too-large coat closer, trying to sink into the thick layers he’d wrapped himself in. The cold of winter was never easy, but apparently the last decade had been near brutal with the freezing temperatures.

 Varian sighed as he felt a tug at his scarf, the thin fabric nearly choking him as the head of the orphanage yanked on it. He followed the cranky old woman out of the building, his feet quickly sinking into the thick snow.

 “Now, I’ve gotten you a place at a fish cannery, near the port.” Old Lady Crowley was grumbling. Varian went quietly as he was pulled along by the scarf, the other end caught in her iron grip. She kept pulling, guiding the teenager towards the large, wrought iron gate at the side of the property. “You’ll take the left path, do you understand me?”

 “Of course I understand, Ol- Miss Crowley.” Varian said with a roll of his eyes. “Left at the fork, straight until the cannery.” His hand slowly found itself up near the center of his chest, fiddling with a small pendant hanging around his neck. He smiled slightly, unable to help himself as he joked: “I’m an amnesiac, not stupid.”

 “Same thing.” The woman grumbled, unlocking the gate. “And stop fiddling with that stupid thing, it’s just a cheap trinket.”

 Varian pouted at her. “Even if it is, it’s all I have-”

 “From before you arrived here, you’ve told from here to the capital about it.”

 The gate opened with a creak, loud and squealing. Varian flinched at the noise, but straightened when the woman turned to shoo him along.

 “Go on, boy,” Crowley snapped, “You’re going to be late!”

 Varian smiled politely, trying to ignore how she muttered idiot child as he walked past her. The second he was outside the gate, Crowley slammed it shut with a loud bang. Varian spun on his heel, seeing her already leaving towards the orphanage without another word.

 “Goodbye, then,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “See you around, I guess.”

 Varian started forward down the street, grumbling to himself. The snow was thicker outside the orphanage property, coating the ground by nearly two feet. He grunted as he slowly kicked his way through the thick snow, a hand reaching up to grab at his necklace. The metal of the pendant was cold to the touch, a small sun with strange little teeth circling the outside. Varian chanced a look down to it, and saw the little words Together in Vardaros lovingly engraved on the center circle. A soft smile took over his face as the gold glinted in the sun, reflecting brightly.

 “I’ll find you,” he murmured, barely even thinking about what he was saying. “I swear it.”

 When he chanced a look up, he found he was already at the fork in the path. A sign stood tall, pointing in two directions. To the capital, on the right, or to the port, on the left.

 “Left at the fork.” Varian whispered. “And then straight on until I hit the cannery, but… hm.”

 His fingers continued to fiddle with his pendant, blue eyes staring up at the sign in thought. He had enough funds for a train ticket, he knew he did- he’d been saving for months just in case. Varian should go left, he knew- should follow Crowley’s orders like a good little wage slave and sign his life away to a life of packing fish- but something in him screamed at the thought.

 “Left to a stable, agonizing job,” he thought out loud, “Or right, to spending every coin I have on a hunch.”

 On paper, they both sounded terrible.

 Varian fiddled with his pendant again, biting at his lip. A brisk wind blew from behind, making him shudder. “Maybe I should wait for a sign.” He laughed to himself, kicking at the snow. A puff of it got close to the base of the sign. Varian startled as a plume of snow suddenly began to wiggle, a chittering noise coming from the lump.

 The teenager laughed harder as a small, fluffy face popped up from inside the snowdrift. “A raccoon?” He asked himself, “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now, bud? It’s the middle of winter.”

 The raccoon made another little noise, rolling out from under the sign. Varian bent down, reaching out a hand to pet the animal. The raccoon waddled up to him, briefly sniffing his fingers before pushing into the outstretched hand. Varian grinned as he scratched the raccoon behind his ears. The animal purred, content, before suddenly reaching one of his little hands forward and grabbing at Varian’s scarf.

 “Hey!” The teenager cried as the raccoon began to run down the right path, the blue scarf tightly gripped in its teeth. “That’s mine, you little jerk!”

 He stood up, stomping his foot. The ring-tailed thief chittered a laugh at him, still holding the scarf. The teenager huffed, crossing his arms.

 “Will you give that back?” Varian demanded, “I’m waiting for my stupid…”

 He cut himself off, blue eyes flicking from the raccoon to the sign in front of him, and back to the raccoon.

 “…sign.” He breathed. His eyes went wide, looking up to focus on the path to the city. For a second the breath caught in his throat, something in him shocked.

 “Am I crazy?” He asked the raccoon, who only cocked his little head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought too.” He sighed, rubbing at his arms with freezing hands. His gaze fell to the snow, a blanket of white covering his boots. “Together in Vardaros.” He murmured, gaze rising back to look towards the towering spires of what used to be Corona.

 And just like that, he took the first step.

 Once he got started, walking down the path was nearly easy. Soon enough he had left the farmland, the tall trees and rolling, snowy fields quickly replaced by dull, drab buildings and cracked cobblestone. Varian shuddered at the glares a few of the city folk shot him, tugging his coat closer around himself. The raccoon had managed to crawl up onto his shoulders at some point, offering himself as a scarf.

 “Well… Ruddiger,” Varian said, testing out the name and deciding it stuck. “If you were a train station, where would you be?”

 The critter only cooed, playing with the blue stripe in Varian’s hair. The boy laughed gently swatting at his new pet. “Thanks for the help, buddy.” He griped, wandering further into the desolate town. Ever since the royal family had fled, Varian knew, the capital city had been borderline barren. Travel outside the country was heavily restricted, the insurrectionist government of Saporians that had swept in during the power vacuum the royals left behind had made sure of that.

 Varian flinched at a loud scream from a few streets over. He began to hustle, ducking into the train station without looking back. In the warmth of the building he sighed, finally able to relax a little. There were dozens of people in the large building, the bustle of them all making Varian’s head spin. His hand unconsciously went up to his necklace, twisting it with nerves.

 There was a long lineup of people waiting for the single open toll window, Varian quietly took his place, unwilling to meet the eye of anyone around as a few of them glared at him. He nervously reached a hand up to pull at his hat, tugging it down over his hair. Something in him demanded he hide, burrowing deeper into his coat.

 Eventually Varian reached the front of the line, quietly approaching the grumpy looking man behind the glass.

 “Uh, hi!” He said, waving awkwardly. “One, um, one ticket for Vardaros, please?”

 The man arched a brow at the sight of Ruddiger, but quickly turned back to Varian with a scowl. “Papers?” He grunted, holding out his hand.

 “I- I’m sorry?” Varian asked, “What-”

 “Your travel papers, boy.” The man grunted. “No papers, no ticket.” When Varian continued to fumble, the man lost patience and barked, “NEXT!”

 Varian was quickly jostled out of the way, blinking in shock. Sure enough when he looked to a nearby sign, he could see the latest proclamation that in order to cross the border, he’d need government papers.

 “Shit.” He hissed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

 “Pst,” A voice cut through his curses, drawing Varian’s attention to an older woman. “You need papers?” She asked him. Varian nodded, tugging his coat closer as she waved him towards her.

 “Go to Hugo,” she whispered, leaning close with a conspiratorial smile. “He lives in the old palace. If you need papers, he can acquire them. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

 “Oh!” Varian quickly nodded, backing away as she shooed him off. “Okay, thank you!”

 “You didn’t hear it from me!” The woman repeated, disappearing into the crowd. Varian watched her go, biting on the inside of his lip. For a second more he stared, nervously, in the middle of the train station. Ruddiger chittered, pulling on his hair, snapping Varian from his daze.

 “Alright,” Varian shook his head, moving for the door. If he needed papers, he’d get those papers. He opened the door, stepping back onto the street. The cold was bitter, angry and painful against his warmed skin. Varian shuddered at the temperature change, but still twisted on his heel so he could look up to the crumbling ruins of the castle. He felt a smile creep across his face, the teenager starting off towards the decrepit building. As he walked, he couldn’t help but reflect on what the woman had told him. He muttered to himself as he moved, determination crossing every footstep. His voice was lost to the wind, but the words were still light in the early afternoon sun.

 “Hugo, huh?”

   >>>><<<<

 If there was ever a time Hugo was regretting his career choices, it was probably now.

 He looked in abject horror at the long list of applicants he, Nuru, and Yong had put together. Every. Single. One. Was crossed out.

 “None of them worked out?” He groaned, looking to Nuru with beseeching eyes. She shook her head with frustration, her dark skin pulling around her eyes as she frowned.

 “Not a one,” she sighed. “They either didn’t look like the lost lord, or didn’t act the part.” None of them were a good Varden, and it was driving Hugo up the wall.

 “This plan isn’t going to work unless we can find a boy to play the part,” Hugo griped, rubbing at his face. “We’re screwed unless we figure it out. Nuru, if we can’t find a guy-”

 “Then we can’t con a grieving woman out of her money, Hugo, I know,” Nuru snapped. Hugo sighed, rolling his eyes. Morals, bah.

 “Don’t make it sound so terrible,” he replied, “If her majesty Princess Rapunzel is dumb enough to offer a reward for a kid who died twevle years ago, then it’s on her. We need out of the country she abandoned, that’s not our fault.”

 Nuru groaned. They’d had this discussion countless times, each one ending the same way.

 “I still don’t like it,” she whispered, “It’s a terrible thing to do.”

 “I think Nuru’s right!” A third voice piped up. Nuru and Hugo snapped from their glaring match to look at Yong. Their third companion was sitting cross legged nearby, fiddling with what was definitely dynamite. Hugo scoffed, shaking his head.

 “Don’t blow anything up,” he chided, before turning back to Nuru. “And if you both feel that way, then have fun starving to death in this shithole city! You don’t have to come along.”  

 That shut them up. Hugo sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Guys, listen," he said, “I know it’s a little… morally grey, but just think of the money! We get a boy to play the part of Varden, we take him to Vardaros, we get the coin, and we’re set for life. No more scrapping for food, no more fighting to survive, just cupcakes and caviar for the rest of our days!”

 The abandoned castle around them groaned in the raging winds. Nuru shuddered against the cold, shaking slightly in the bitter air. Hugo crossed his arms, cocking his head. He knew he was right, and was certain she knew it as well. The younger girl finally scoffed, crossing her arms.

 “I still don’t like it,” she muttered, looking away with a glare as Hugo smiled at her admission.

 “And you can cry about it in a palace,” he shot back, “Instead of a dump like this.”

 Nuru scoffed, but finally let it drop. Hugo looked back to the list, almost a hundred crossed out names staring back at him.

 “Well, like I said, we’re screwed if we can’t find a boy to play our prince,” he griped. “I guess we’ll have to put out more applications.”

 “I don’t know if there’s anyone left to apply,” Yong piped up from his place on the floor. “We’ve been at this for days.”

 “There’s gotta be someone,” Hugo grunted, “I know it-”

 He was cut off as a loud clatter rang through the abandoned halls of the old palace. All three of them tensed, looking towards the entrance to the grand ballroom, where the noise had come from. Unfortunately, the old castle had had more than one squatter over the years, and the three of them were only the most recent occupants.

 “Shit,” Hugo said, “Must be looters again.”

 “I can take care of it!” Yong cheered, holding his dynamite high. “I think I finally got the burn ratios right-”

 “No.” Nuru interrupted, “No you will not be taking care of them.” Hugo snickered, until her amber eyes landed on him. “Hugo will be,” she said with a smirk.

 “Wha-“ Hugo spluttered as Nuru’s smile went sharp, “Fine. But I don’t want to hear another room about bullshit morals for at least a week.”

 “Fine,” Nuru grinned like she’d won something. Though she probably had, from the way Hugo ended up walking for the door. On the way he scooped up a crowbar, specifically used for that purpose and an old friend, at that point. He grumbled to himself as he shoved at the door, entering the ballroom on silent feet. He tried to ignore the eyes on his back as he walked past a portrait of the royal family, their unblinking gaze settling on his shoulders as he hustled into the ballroom properly.

 It was a large space, towering and opulent even in ruin. Large windows lined both of the longer walls, bathing the room in the light of the setting sun. It bounced off the dusty floors, shining off tarnished gold and illuminating the cloth covered silhouettes of furniture long since left to time. Hugo hated being in the ballroom, it was always drafty and definitely haunted; the revolution had started here, he knew, and the large stains of long dried blood that marred the marble floors was enough to prove that.

 He shuddered, moving further into the room. Over the calls of the freezing winds though broken windows he could hear shuffling footsteps, accompanied by…

 “Is that humming?” He whispered to himself, already more confused than where he’d started.

 Sure enough, drifting along in the quiet ballroom, was an unmistakably male voice humming along to a lullaby sort of tune. Green eyes scanned the ballroom, finally landing on a short, small figure standing across the room. Hugo scowled, marching forwards, but paused as the shorter teen skimmed his hand along a covered table.

 “Soon, you’ll be,” the boy murmured to himself, “Home with me, once upon a December.” His thin fingers trailed across the table, his blue gaze a million miles away.

 Hugo scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 “Hey!” He shouted, “You wanna scram? This party’s invite-only!”

 The stranger startled, whirling around to look at Hugo with wide eyes. Hugo couldn’t help but appraise for a second- the guy was cute, even in the ill-fitting jacket and wrapped in fifty layers… and what was with the raccoon?- but with the big hood it was nearly impossible to see much of him. A pair of brass goggles, beaten but obviously well loved, were perched on his head.

 “Sorry!” The black-haired teen said, “Sorry, sorry, I’m looking for uh- Hugo? I think that was his name…”

 “Who’s asking?” Hugo barked. He set the crowbar down on the table, getting close enough that he could see the smattering of freckles on the stranger’s cheeks. He also noted, with a smug grin, that the other teenager was nearly a head shorter than him.

 “My name’s Varian,” the intruder said. “I was told that a guy named Hugo lives here, and that he can help me with travel papers-”

 “Ah- quiet!” Hugo hissed, “Do you want the guards knowing about all that?”

 Varian perked up, grinning slyly. “So you are Hugo, then?”

 “I- shit, yeah alright,” Hugo groaned, feeling a headache brewing. “I’m Hugo, but I can’t help you right now. I’m busy.”

 Varian’s face fell, before sinking into a pout. “You don’t understand,” he said, “I have to get to Vardaros, it’s important!”

 Hugo only shrugged, he didn’t have time for this, not with the search for someone to play their Varden. “Sorry, Sweetcheeks,” he bemoaned, smirking at the frustrated expression on Varian’s face at the nickname. “Got places to go, people to see.” He spun on his heel, walking back towards where he’d left Yong and Nuru.

 “Wait!” Varian ran after him, the shorter boy skidding to a stop between Hugo and the painting of the ex-royals. “Wait- please, I just need the travel papers, and I’ll be out of your hair!”

 His hood had fallen off in the scramble, hair wild as it escaped from under the hood. Hugo paused at the streak of blue cutting through the black like a slash of light through a midnight sky. His eyes moved from Varian’s frantic face and up to the painting behind him- specifically on the visage of the missing lord.

 Oh.

 Bingo.

 “That’s too bad,” Hugo shrugged, reaching into his pocket. “Because I’m busy looking for the lost lord, and these-” he pulled a set of four tickets out with a flourish, “Are for his royal highness, myself, and my companions, so that we can take him to his sister in Vardaros.”

 Varian’s eyes locked on the tickets. Hugo’s grin widened. Gotcha.

 “Of course, we haven’t found him yet- say you look a lot like Lord Varden yourself, don’t you?”

 Varian looked dumbstruck for a second. His hand was fiddling with a pendant around his neck, some weird circle looking thing, but Hugo could see the curiosity in his eyes. Now to lock it in.

 “What makes you say that?” Varian asked.

 The blond gestured towards the painting, stepping up beside Varian with a flourish. “Why, just look!” Hugo said. “You’re practically the spitting image. The hair, the eyes- I can practically see Lady Ulla’s nose!”

 Varian let out a loud laugh, crossing his arms as he too turned and looked the painting in the eye. Now that Hugo could see Varian and Varden side by side, he really could see the similarities in the face, hell even the stripe in his hair. He’d be perfect.

 “As if,” Varian scoffed. “I’m just… just some orphan. There’s nothing special about me, and I’m not some lost Lord.”

 “Who says you can’t be?” Hugo argued, his grin only widening as Varian began to look more and more nervous. “What, don’t you remember?”

 “I don’t," Varian muttered. “This is going to sound crazy; I was found when I was six, with no idea about who I was or where I came from. I was just wandering around the city by myself, the only thing I have left is this.”

 He held up the pendant, the gold catching the light. “I mean, sure,” Varian kept going, focusing intently on his painted twin. “Every lost little boy wants to think he’s a prince, that’s a given. But there’s no way I am who you think I am.”

 Hugo tapped at his chin, playing dumb. Time to give a little slack, he thought to himself, forcing his shoulders into a casual shrug.

 “Well, if you’re sure,” he said, once again walking away. Varian stayed in front of the painting this time, almost unable to move away from the image of the lost lord. Hugo slowed his pace, not looking back but mentally counting down as he got further away.

 Sure enough, a self-satisfied smirk crawled across his face as he heard hurried footsteps chasing after him.

 “Hugo!” Varian’s voice echoed through the abandoned ballroom, “Hugo, wait!”

 “Need something, Sweetcheeks?” Hugo asked as he turned around to face a nervous Varian.

 “Maybe- okay, do you really think that I might be the lost lord?” Varian fidgeted with his pendant again, biting his lip. “Because, I don’t remember my family, but I know they’re in Vardaros, and you said that the princess is in Vardaros, right, so maybe… maybe it’s not a coincidence?”

 Something smug settled in Hugo’s gut. The blond smiled, wrapping an arm around Varian’s shoulders. “I’m almost positive,” he assured the nervous boy. “In fact, think of it this way. Either you are Varden, in which case you find your family and all that garbage, or, if I’m wrong, you’re in the right place to start looking for them.”

 Varian’s face lit up at that, his hand finally dropping the necklace in favour of spinning out of Hugo’s grip.

 “I- okay!” He chirped, already outpacing Hugo. “Okay, yeah, let’s give it a try!”

 The blond watched him go, the younger of them already moving up the stairs and towards where Yong and Nuru were. Hugo smiled, something sneaky and smug at Varian’s retreating back, already planning out exactly how he was going to spin this. He focused on his new cohort with barely contained glee, already imagining the piles of gold Varian would fetch them from the Princess.

 It was because of that focus, that he completely missed a flash of bright fuchsia from up in the rafters of the old ballroom.

>>>><<<<

 They said that evil never slept, but it had certainly been dormant for some time. 

 She wasn’t sure exactly why she had been drawn back to consciousness after almost two decades. It had been some time since she had destroyed the joy of the Coronan princess once and for all. Sure, the princess had survived, but the wake of blood and suffering was more than enough to sate the bloodlust that had tied Zhan Tiri to the human realm.

 But now, she was awake again.

 Zhan Tiri was not a stupid creature, despite what that fool Demanitus had thought. She knew that something had gone wrong with her revenge on Corona for her to be brought back from the dredges between time and space. Conscious again in the swirling void of her realm, Zhan Tiri spurred back to life. When she opened her eyes she saw two figures, her loyal servants, standing by and waiting, just as they had been all those years ago.

 “Tromus,” she greeted, “Sugracha.”

 “Mistress,” they responded, dull and monotonous.

 “Something seems to be stirring, in Corona.” Zhan Tiri murmured, reaching forwards to the air in front of her. With a rip of her claw she tore a gaping wound in the universe, a fracture in space time that allowed her to see the results of her handiwork. A flicking purple portal stood in front of her, showing her glimpses of the human world.

 In this one, she could see the Coronan princess, slouched on a lounging chair, despondent as always. She looked near tears, fiddling with a small music box that Zhan Tiri knew she was unable to open.

 “The princess suffers,” Tromus purred, “As always.”

 Sugracha snickered, content with the result. The image in the portal flickered, switching to the burnt-out shell of Corona Castle. “And Corona is in ruin.” She cooed.

 Zhan Tiri clicked her tongue. The two of them snapped to attention. “We’re awake for a reason, my friends,” the demon murmured. “There’s something not right with our revenge.”

 She searched again, the feeling drawing her towards the interior of the castle. She waved a claw once more, switching the image. It was two young men, one blond, one raven with a blue streak-

 “Ah.” She cooed, “One of them managed to escape us, it seems.”

 For all Zhan Tiri was calm on the outside, on the interior she could feel the rage brewing. How dare that boy escape her, ruin her perfect revenge? The demon grit her teeth, toying with a wisp of magic in the air.

 “That won’t do.” Tromus’ accented voice drifted through the air. “We wanted all of them, save the princess.”

 “The boy will have to be dealt with.” Sugracha agreed. “Wouldn’t want him causing problems.”

 “Hm,” Zhan Tiri allowed a smile to split her face. In the portal, she could see the boy growing acquainted with a small group of other humans. He was the spitting image of his parents; it made the anger in her gnash its teeth like a starving beast. “It seems we have a little insect to squash.”

 Her head tilted towards Tromus, ram’s horns slicing at the swirling cosmos around them. “Tromus,” she said. He snapped to attention, ever the loyal soldier.

 “Yes, my lady?”

 “Take care of the pest, would you?”

 Tromus grinned, allowing himself the luxury of floating forwards in a showy bow, dipping at the waist.

 “Of course, my lady.”

>>>><<<<

 Varian watched the countryside slide by with fascinated eyes. The train was fast, speeding through the countryside at a breakneck pace. He’d never been on a train before, so the whole thing was novel enough to have kept his attention for the first few hours of the trip.

 Their train car rumbled along the tracks, the hissing of steam and whistling of engines faint enough that it wasn’t distracting. Varian bounced slightly in his seat, looking away from the windows and towards his new companions with a smile.

 Nuru and Yong sat across from him, the two of them taking up the bench. Nuru was quietly writing on a few sheets of loose-leaf paper, and a curious eye told Varian she was forging travel papers for them all in a crisp, blue ink. He winced at the legal implications, but still decided not to say anything.

 The door to their left opened, sliding over on its track. Varian looked to see Hugo standing there, brushing his coat off.

 “How are we looking, Nuru?” He asked, shuffling into the cabin. Yong refused to move his feet away, forcing Hugo to step over him. The blond grumbled, throwing himself down onto the seat next to Varian. The shorter boy let out an oomph, grunting as he was jostled.

 “Hey-“ Varian griped, shoving at Hugo. “Watch out!”

 “Oh, so sorry your highness,” Hugo muttered, “I’ll be sure to be more careful next time.”

 Varian grumbled, shoving at Hugo with a grunt. The blond responded by sticking his tongue out, to which the other teenager did the same.

 “Boys,” Nuru snapped. “I’m a little busy here, could we maybe act like adults while I work?”

 Varian sighed, rolling his eyes and slouching back into the bench. The frozen scenery of Corona continued to pass them by, blue eyes watching curiously at the world beyond. Ruddiger purred from his place in Varian’s lap, stretching contentedly when Varian scratched between his ears. Varian fiddled aimlessly with his pendant, letting his mind wander and missing how Hugo and Nuru began to frantically whisper to one another.

 Corona had once been beautiful, apparently, not that Varian could remember it. His fingers buried into Ruddiger’s fur, scratching away as the expanse of white sped on by. For a second he could have sworn he saw a flash of green light from nearby, moving around near the wheels below. Varian sat up straighter, trying to focus on it. What had-

  He was distracted as Hugo stood again, grabbing his bags from the overhead. Nuru was doing the same, as was Yong. Thoughts of the green light fled, especially when he saw how worried the others looked.

 “Are we moving?” Varian asked, arching a brow when Hugo nearly dropped his suitcase.

 “Yep,” Hugo replied. There was something stressed about his tone, but Varian didn’t bother to question it. Instead he stood as well, scooping up his meager shoulder bag and following the other tree as they left the cart.

 “Red,” Nuru muttered bitterly, “Why would they change to red, they’ve been blue forever-”

 Ah.

 Varian groaned, watching her crumple up the half-finished forgeries in clenching hands. “Oh,” he said, “Is that why we’re moving.”   

 Hugo scowled, tugging Yong along gently when the younger boy wasn’t moving fast enough. “It might be, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “We’ve got a plan, though.”

 Varian only scoffed, cocking a hip. “I gotta say, if I am royalty, then you’re not exactly giving me a lot of confidence here-”

 “Guys!” Yong whispered, holding a door open in front of them. “C’mon!”

 Hugo quietly pushed Varian ahead. The shorter of them went quietly, stepping into the cold of the new train car. They were close to the engine now, the noise of it loud in his ears and the rumbling much worse than it had been in the passenger cars. Around them were countless suitcases and bags, even the odd crate or two. Varian looked around apprehensively, clutching Ruddiger tightly.

 “Is… this the baggage compartment?” He asked, biting at his lip. “Are you sure they won’t find us here?”

 “Nope,” Hugo grinned, popping the p.  “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

 “I thought you said you had this all planned out,” Varian grumbled. His hand nervously went to his pendant, twiddling it between his fingers as he tried to stave off the cold. Hugo looked ready to smack him, but Yong distracted them both before anything else could brew.

 “Uh, guys?” He smushed his face against one of the windows of the compartment, looking towards the engine. “I think something’s not right.”

 The train rumbled again, a lurching, unnatural thing that sent all of them toppling to the wooden floor. Varian cried out as his elbow hit the floor first, a shock of pain running up the whole limb. Ruddiger hissed when Varian dropped him, but the boy didn’t have time to apologize before there was another loud bang, and his guts swooped out from under him as the train suddenly picked up a large amount of speed.

 “What the hell is going on?!” Hugo barked, stumbling to his feet. “Have they lost their goddamn minds?!”

 Nuru, standing as well, stared out the small window in the door they’d just entered from, her eyes wide and her skin nearly ashy from lack of blood. She turned to face the boys, and in a flat tone said: “We’ve lost the passenger cars.”

 “What?!” All three of the boys cried at once.

 Nuru didn’t reply, simply opening the door wide. Varian felt his heart sink at the sight of the Coronan wilderness beyond, the rest of the train having come free and was steadily being left a fair way down the track behind them.

 “Well, that can’t be good.” Hugo muttered, already going for the engine car instead. “We’ve got to see if we can stop this thing!”

 Varian was on his feet in an instant, following the blond as they reached the forward end of their car. Hugo ripped the door open, the wind rushing into the baggage car, screaming as it whipped past them. Varian trembled in the sudden cold, clinging tight as he forced his eyes open and stared at the engine. It was glowing a bright, noxious green. He felt his heart sink, watching as Hugo jumped the gap between the two cars. The blond moved to the engine, trying to find a way to stop themselves.

 “How’s it look?” Varian called over the wind, grimacing when Hugo spun around with a worried face.

 “Not-so-great!” The green-eyed man replied, hopping back over to the luggage cart. “It’s all ruined, there’s no way to stop it.”

 “Shit,” Varian gasped. He looked up ahead of them, into the far distance, where the silhouette of a crumbling bridge could be seen.

 A broken bridge.

 “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Varian breathed, reaching out blindly to pat at Hugo’s shoulder. Once he had the blond’s attention he wordlessly pointed to the shattered remains of the bridge, feeling his face drain of blood.

 “Hm,” Hugo grunted. “I can see that developing into a problem.”

 Varian nodded, lost in the shock as he refused to look away from the steadily approaching drop. Hugo dropped to his knees next to Varian, starting to tug at the connection keeping their car attached to the engine.

 “Goggles!” He barked, “Try and find me something I can use to wedge us apart!”

 Varian stuttered to life, turning back into the car with haste. Nuru and Yong were both scattered about, trying to find a way to slow them down. Nuru was throwing a series of weighted chains from the back door, the ends of them snagging on the tracks but not enough to slow down the car. Yong was working on something, a stick of what looked like dynamite held tight in his hands.

 Varian inhaled a quick breath, holding out a hand to Yong. “Can I borrow that?” He asked, his voice oddly calm despite the panic climbing higher in his throat.

 Yong looked up to Varian, then down to the dynamite in his hand. The younger boy looked confused for a second, but still handed it over. “Sure, I guess,” he chirped. “Just be careful!”

 Varian grinned, rushing back to where Hugo was still bashing at the connection with what looked like a screwdriver.

 “I hope you-“ bang, bang, “Found us a hammer, or a crowbar would be better, because this thing doesn’t want to move-“ bang, bang.

 Varian merely leaned over him, holding the dynamite in front of his glasses.

 “Oh,” Hugo said, going slightly cross-eyed as he focused on the explosive. “Yeah, that’ll do.”

 Varian smiled, stepping back as Hugo got to work. He rushed back to Yong and Nuru, waving at them.

 “Hold on to something!” He shouted, ducking behind a crate and pressing his back against it. He caught sight of Nuru grabbing Yong by the hand and dragging him behind another crate before his vision was taken up by green fabric. Hugo slammed into the crate next to Varian, breathing heavily from running to the back of the car, and pressing hard against the wood.

 “Brace!” The taller boy shouted, slamming his hands over his ears. Varian copied him, only just in time before the whole car rattled with a sharp force. He felt a small pain as he bit his own tongue, his body rattling down to the bone with the force of it.

 Varian tasted copper.

 But as quickly as it started, the shaking ended. Varian cracked his eye open and let himself breathe at the sight of slowing trees. He peeked around the crate, eyes widening when he saw the front half of their car totally destroyed, small fires racing up the sides of it. In the far distance, he could see the engine car speeding towards the bridge, getting dangerously close.

 Their car trundled to a stop at last, unable to keep up momentum without the engine car to pull it. Varian saw the engine car hit the bridge in the far distance, before finally shooting off the broken track and into the gorge below. Hugo stood next to him, the two of them watching the massive engine go plummeting over the side only a half-mile away. There was a second of terrible silence, before another explosion rocked the earth, a plume of black smoke starting to rise from the gorge.

 Varian stumbled back, only to be settled by a hand on his upper arm. He leaned into Hugo’s touch, watching the smoke rise in the distance.

 “Well.” Blue eyes focused on the smoke as Varian crossed his arms. “That was fun.”

 Hugo’s hand didn’t move off his arm, but Varian didn’t shove it away.

 “What did they teach you in your orphanage?” Hugo finally asked, “Because whatever it was, it’s very different from mine.”

 And with that, the moment snapped in half.

 Varian scoffed, shoving at Hugo’s hand and spinning on his heel. He walked back into the car, already moving to help Nuru up off the floor. “A thank you wouldn’t hurt!” He called, unaware of how Hugo’s eyes followed him as he left.

 And, oddly enough, unaware of the blush that scattered across Hugo’s cheeks.

>>>><<<<

 “If you’re going to convince them to meet with you, you’ll need some formal training.” Nuru said, tapping at her chin.

 Varian looked up from the book he’d been reading, an eyebrow arched. “I don’t know,” he said with apprehension, “I don’t think I have the disposition for the royal way of doing things.” He snorted at the thought, turning back to his book, only to have it gently taken from his hands.

 “Hey-”

 Nuru didn’t seem phased, shutting the book with a snap. “If you have no training, they won’t even let you meet with the prince-consort, let alone agree to see the princess.” Her smile was sharp, obviously delighting in being the one in charge. Varian paused, mulling it over.

 “I… I guess that’s fair.” He said, biting at his lip. One of his hands went again to the pendant, tugging at the chain. “But I don’t even know where to start.”

 Nuru’s grin got wider, her arms going behind her back.

 “Welcome to royalty boot camp,” she said, “I’ll be your guide.”

 Varian laughed, allowing her to take his hand. She pulled him to his feet, settling her hands on her hips as she appraised him. Seeming to find what she was looking for, her face split into a warm grin.

 “Now,” she began, “You were born in a palace by the sea…”

 The next few days were a whirlwind of rules- Varian felt his head spin with every new piece of information, each new rule, but he did his best to keep everything straight.

 Back straight, head up-

 When addressing a count you will call them-

 Your sixth great-uncle was named Ivan-

 It was a flurry of names and history, but it never was too much. Somehow it felt less like learning something new and more like re-building a puzzle- like the pieces had always been there, but only now the image was starting to come through. Varian tried not to dwell on it, grateful for the fact that the information at least was easy to learn.

 The trip was tiring, but worth it as they slowly hiked their way towards the coast. Hugo had told him that they’d reach the coast in the next day, and then it would be a simple boat ride to reach Vardaros. Varian could feel the excitement settle in his bones, the promise of finally reaching the place he’d been aiming for after all these years.

 And, to be honest all the trivia was kind of fun, too

 “And remember to mention that your second cousin, Elbert, would invite you and your father to his estate for a few weeks every summer.” Nuru told him as they all sat upon a large carriage. It trundled down a dirt path, slowly but surely getting closer to their destination. The costal city around them was buzzing with people, the air warm and smelling of salt.

 “Oh, yeah.” Varian said, tapping at his chin. “Didn’t he have an orange cat? I think it was really fat, right?”

 Nuru paused, glancing at Hugo. The blond looked stricken, blinking. Nuru shrugged, and then turned back to Varian.

 “That’s right,” she chirped, before leaning over to Hugo. “Did you teach him that?” She whispered, “Because I didn’t.”

 “I thought you did,” Hugo replied, the two of them staring at each other with a small shock. There was no way… right?

 “Oh!” Varian’s voice cut through their confusion. “Guys, look, it’s the port!”

 Sure enough, their carriage had pulled into the port properly. It was busy out, as expected, but Varian couldn’t help but be excited as they stepped off the carriage and onto the cobblestones. Hugo tugged him along by the elbow, dragging Varian behind him as he walked further into the port.

 “Where’s the boat?” Hugo asked Nuru, who only shrugged.

 “I think it’s this way,” she replied, heading off into the crowd. Yong followed her, used to keeping himself from getting lost in big crowds. It seemed Varian didn’t have that skillset yet, as he was forced to keep close to Hugo so he wouldn’t get lost. The blond didn’t seem phased at the close contact, instead leisurely throwing an arm around Varian’s shoulders.

 Eventually Nuru found the ship, a massive, metal steamboat made for forcing its way up the lakes and rivers leading to Vardaros. Varian had never seen such a huge boat, his eyes went wide at the sight of it. Hugo and the others seemed unphased, simply walking up the gangplank like they owned the place.

 “Gotta pretend to belong,” Hugo had told him once, “Or else everyone will see you for exactly what you are.”

 The ship gently rolled beneath his feet, the wood of the decking polished and clean despite being old. Varian leaned back a little, taking in the sun on his skin. Corona had been cold since the fall of the royal family, to feel the sun like this was a rarity these days. He leaned against the railing of the ship, letting the warmth sink deep-

“Ey, Sweetcheeks!”

 Oh, Hugo.

 Varian opened one eye, tilting his head to look as the blond approached. He had something tucked under his arm, tied together with string in a little bow. Hugo had a grin across his face, one that only widened when Varian opened his other eye and focused on him.

 “I got you a little something the other day,” Hugo said, holding out the bundle. It looked like it was made of teal fabric, a jacket maybe? Varian blinked, holding out his hands wordlessly as Hugo shoved the present at him.

 “I- thank you?” He said, the words coming out more as a question than something grateful. Hugo’s smile cracked into a smirk, worming across his face.

 “Well,” he said, “You can’t exactly meet her majesty looking like the common rabble, can you?”

 Varian laughed, holding the present closer to him. “Okay, moment’s ruined,” he snickered, “Thank you, Hugo.”

 He tried to ignore how Hugo lit up at the praise, the faintest smattering of a blush crossing his pale skin. Varian felt his own face rush with red, and he quickly pushed himself off the railing and held the gift close.

 “I’m going to go try it on,” he said, bolting for the cabins. He hoped that Hugo hadn’t seen him getting flustered, but as he changed, he couldn’t help but blush harder. Varian caught his reflection in the mirror, biting his lip at the sight of a teal vest, dark pants, and a billowing white shirt. He’d never owned anything so nice before, let alone something that looked so nice on… him. Varian turned away from the mirror, coughing to cover up how flustered he felt. He quickly left the cabin, returning to the deck.

 He caught sight of Nuru and Yong, the two of them laughing as they spun together. There was a small quartet of men with instruments, other passengers Varian would assume, playing a jovial tune. He laughed as Nuru and Yong went spinning past him, jumping back to avoid their path. Varian clapped along to the beat of the music, watching the dancers with a large grin.

 He felt a presence sidle up next to him, and looked over to see Hugo. The blond was avoiding his eye, leaning against the railing. Varian arched a brow, quickly putting the pieces together. His face split into a wry grin, grabbing one of Hugo’s hands.

 “Dance with me!” He said, tugging Hugo along into the circle. Green eyes went wide, Hugo putting up a bit of a fight but nowhere near as much of one that Varian knew he could. Hugo eventually went along with it, placing his hands onto Varian’s waist and following as the other dancers spun in a circle. Varian smiled, tossing his arms around Hugo’s neck and letting himself be led.

 The music slowed a little, the beat turning into more of a waltz. Hugo rolled his eyes, but Varian noted how his hands never left Varian’s waist.

 “Okay, Sweetcheeks,” he said, “Just gotta make a box- yeah, see, you get it. We’ll make a dancer of you yet.”

 Varian pouted, taking the chance to accidentally step on Hugo’s foot. The blond winced, his face squishing in mild pain. Varian snickered, biting at his lip as Hugo playfully glared back.

 “Haha,” he griped, “You must think you’re very funny.”

 Varian laughed, nodding. “I’m hilarious,” he said, “It’s not my fault you just can’t see it.”

 They continued to bicker back and forth, slowly drawing closer until they were only inches apart. Neither noticed that the other dancers had stopped, and that the music had drifted away until it was only a single violin player left. Their world had narrowed down to each other, the quiet sass and laughter they shared.

 Nuru, nearby, smiled knowingly as she gently pushed Yong downstairs, leaving them alone.

 Boys, honestly.

>>>><<<<

 Hugo woke up to the sound of Ruddiger clawing at something.

 “C’mon,” he groaned, “Can’t you just wait until the morning, you stupid trash panda?”

 He kept his eyes screwed tight, throwing an arm over them for good measure. He’d opted to take the floor for the night, leaving Nuru and Yong to split one bunk in their room and Varian to take the last bed, so his back was killing. Now, the stupid raccoon wanted to play, and he had just gotten to sleep-

 Ruddiger kept pawing at the door, chattering up a storm. Hugo nearly snapped, quickly losing patience.

 “What do you want, you little gremlin?!” He hissed, throwing his arm away from his face and sitting up dramatically to glare at the raccoon. Ruddiger didn’t even look at him, clawing at the wood of their door like he was trying to burrow through it. Rain pattered at the porthole window nearby, the occasional flash of lightning flickering through the room. Hugo grumbled at the sound of rolling thunder, but slowly woke up as Ruddiger continued to panic.

 “Hey,” Hugo said, caution taking over at the sight of the frantic animal. “Hey, ringtail, what’s wrong?”

 He rolled over a bit, quietly getting to his feet and shuddering at the cold on his toes. He looked around the dark cabin, trying to see if anything was out of place. Yong and Nuru were fast asleep, Yong curled up on his side and Nuru splayed out like a gangly starfish, and all the bags were still there so-

 Wait.

 “Where’s Varian?” Hugo hissed into the darkness. Green eyes focused on the empty bed next to him, widening when he also saw that Varian’s boots had been left behind.

 The ship gave a sickening roll under him, the floor groaning under the force of the rushing waves. Hugo felt his guts swoop out from under him, but managed to keep his footing as he headed for the door. The second he opened it, the raccoon was bolting out into the hallway, long gone by the time Hugo himself got out of the room.

 “Goddamn it,” he muttered, “It’s too early for this shit, I swear.”

 He quickly walked down the hallways, looking for Varian. The longer it took to catch sight of him, the more stressed Hugo became. Soon enough the blond was sprinting down the length of the ship, calling for the shorter voice with something near panic. He’d searched the whole ship, all that was left was…

 “The deck,” Hugo breathed in horror.

 He bolted for the main door, stumbling up the stairs and onto the main deck of the large ship. The storm was only getting worse, the wind rushing around him and nearly sending him toppling onto the soaked deck. Hugo’s hair plastered itself to his head, the rain coated his glasses and made it impossible to see.

 “Goggles?” He yelled over the pounding surf, “Varian?”

 He scanned the deck again, squinting against the rain-

 There.

 Precariously close to the edge was Varian, drunkenly stumbling along the deck. Hugo was moving before he could even think of anything else, his bare feet slapping against the wooden planks.

 “Varian, stop!” He screamed, rushing forwards.

 Varian didn’t even flinch at the scream, instead opting to slowly lurch towards the guardrail. Hugo felt a sense of terror climb higher in his chest, even as he ran. If Varian pitched over the edge, he was surely done for, in a storm like this being in the open water was a death sentence. Varian kept walking, eventually clambering up a set of crates to perch himself on top of the guardrail, a hand holding onto a nearby line the only thing keeping him from toppling over the edge and into the raging water below.

 Hugo screamed again, something wordless and nearly feral as he sprinted forward, reaching a hand out towards the other teenager. Varian swayed dangerously, his bare feet almost half off the railing, a thin hand lifting up into the air like he was reaching for someone.

 Hugo panted as he drew close, his feet skidding as he tried to slow down before he hit Varian and sent them both over the edge. He slipped, landing hard on his side with a shout. Hugo scrambled up to his feet again, reaching out and grabbing Varian around the waist with both arms, pulling him off the railing and onto the boat properly. Varian fought him with sleepy, lazy throws of his limbs. Hugo noted with shock that his eyes were totally closed, had he really been sleepwalking?

 “Lemme… let go!” Varian mumbled, struggling without any real force behind it. Hugo kept his grip easily, backing them off the edge and towards a safer area, the rain still coming down around them could easily send them off the edge if they weren’t careful.

 “Sweetcheeks!” Hugo called again, shaking Varian gently, “You’ve gotta wake up, c’mon!”

 Varian’s freckled cheeks shone from rain and tears, his face scrunched up in fear. Hugo shook him again, letting go of his waist to grab at his shoulders.

 “Varian!” He shouted louder, getting closer to the shorter boy’s face.

 Varian’s eyes snapped open, scaring the hell out of Hugo, the shorter boy gasping like he was coming up from underwater. He looked terrified, small hands coming up and smacking at Hugo’s chest with a little more force than he’d had before.

 “What?” Varian gasped between breaths, “Where- Hugo?!”

 “Oh, thank god.” Hugo gasped, allowing the panic in his chance to finally settle. Varian shook in his grip, violent tremors that took his whole body. The shorter boy looked close to tears. Varian suddenly fell forward, still on his feet but he was leaning his entire body into Hugo’s chest, hands that had been slapping at him gripping his sleepshirt tightly.

 “Hugo.” Varian gasped into the blond’s chest, “I was so scared- I- I saw-”

 Hugo paused, unsure of what to do, before slowly wrapping his arms around Varian and pulling him into a hug. “You’re okay,” he whispered into Varian’s hair, “It’s okay, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

 “I’m not!” Small hands tightened their grip on Hugo’s sleep shirt. “I keep seeing faces- I’m not, I saw a demon, and she said she was going to… to…”

 “It was a nightmare.” Hugo soothed. “It’s okay. Let’s get you below deck, out of the rain.”

 Varian’s hands slowly let go, inching around so that he was hugging Hugo properly. The taller boy held him close, unwilling to let go. “You’re safe,” he murmured again, unsure if he was soothing Varian or himself. The rain continued to pelt them, washing away the fear with the feeling of Varian in his arms, warm and still breathing.

 In the depth of the universe, the space between life and death, the demon Zhan Tiri snarled.

 Sugracha had failed. It was time for her to deal with this herself.

>>>><<<<

 Varian’s leg was bouncing.

 He nervously tugged at his pendant, waiting with the others inside of a grand chateau. Upon arrival to Vardaros he’d been pulled along by Nuru to the richer part of the city, a sprawling neighborhood of mansions with perfectly trimmed hedges and beautifully painted trim.

 Varian had never felt so out of place before.

 They’d stopped at the home of a woman named Willow, an eccentric woman in her early forties, who was apparently the princess’s aunt. She was nice enough, having shouted upon seeing Nuru and wrapped the girl up in a tight hug. She’d brought them into her home, directed them to a sitting room. So now they were here.

 And Varian’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

 The room around them was lavish, large paintings and brushed gold. Varian felt under dressed, even in his new clothes. He was exhausted, having stayed awake with nerves the night before. They still refused to leave, the fear cloying as he tried to force it down like a bad pill. Hugo was sitting next to him, stoic and stable. Varian found himself twitching again, unable to stop himself from shaking-

 Hugo’s hand slipped into his own.

 “You’ve got this.” The blond whispered, “It’s okay.”

 Varian nodded, taking a deep breath. He squeezed Hugo’s hand, grateful for the assurance. He managed to get a handle on the shaking, letting his leg finally settle. Nuru and Yong, sitting on a different couch nearby, let out a sigh of relief as he calmed.

 “Who wants tea?” Willow called, entering the room with a tray in her hands. Varian caught sight of a teapot and cups, but felt sick. He was sure if he tried to eat or drink, he’d surely lose his nerves and his stomach.

 Varian breathed deeply as Nuru took a teacup from Willow. She caught Hugo’s eye, nodding when he gestured with his chin to her.

 “Miss Willow,” Nuru said softly, “I think we found him.”

 Willow paused, stopping where she had been pouring tea. “I see,” she said. Her voice had dropped a few degrees. Varian tensed, only calming when Hugo squeezed his hand again. Willow’s eyes focused on Varian, appraising. She gestured for him to stand, her lips pursing.

 “Well, you certainly look like little Varden,” she said. “The stripe is hard for some people to fake, though not impossible.”

 “It’s not fake,” Varian mumbled. He tugged on the stripe self consciously, feeling uneasy under her glare. “I was born with it.”

 Willow smiled, finishing pouring Yong’s tea.

 “Alright then,” she said. “We’ll start easy. Where were you born?”

 It went like that for hours, a series of questions that got more and more specific as the time dragged by. Varian answered each one as best he could, stumbling over his words and constantly tugging at his necklace. Willow wasn’t unkind, but she had the air of a woman who had seen too many fakes.

 The sun was nearly low in the sky by the time Willow was done. Varian felt exhausted, wrung out and tired in a way that was bone deep. Willow had kept the tea flowing and the biscuits piled, but even Nuru and Yong were obviously worn out. They all slouched into their seats, blinking away the light from the setting sun. Hugo had held his hand the whole time.

 “I just have one more question,” Willow finally said. Varian perked up at the thought of an end to the interrogation, sitting straighter.

 Willow pursed her lips, eyes narrowing.

 “How did you escape the raids?” She finally asked, settling back in her seat.

 Hugo tensed. They hadn’t told him that-

 “I…” Varian paused, biting at his lip. “There was… a door, I think? A little one, in a wall. A boy took us through it- but that’s stupid.” Varian cut himself off, shaking his head with a laugh. “Little doors, sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying,”

 He didn’t even notice Hugo’s face go ghostly white next to him, too caught up in his own musing. Willow smiled, nodding.

 “Well,” she finally said, “You answered all the questions correctly-” They all breathed a sigh of relief, “-but I’m afraid my niece isn’t seeing any more potential Vardens. She’s had her heart broken enough times.”

 Varian’s heart sank, the anxiety creeping back in. “I- please!” He cried, “We’ve come all this way, please, she might be the only family I have-”

 Willow sighed, rubbing at her temples. “I can’t take you to her,” the woman finally said, “But, I can say that she’ll be at the Vardaros Opera, tonight. If you were to drop by, I might be able to get you to her.”

 Varian smiled wide, his eyes swimming with tears. “Thank you,” he said quietly, hoping he could impart even just a little of the gratefulness he felt in the words. From the way Willow smiled, it must have worked, as her own face split into a grin.

 “If you are him,” she said, “It’s worth a try. Besides, now we have an excuse to go do something fun!”

 “Something fun?” Yong’s voice piped up, muffled through a mouthful of biscuits. Willow smiled, cracking her knuckles. Varian tensed at the sly look on her face.

 “Shopping.” She declared.

 Oh, dear.

>>>><<<<

 Hugo grit his teeth against the blowing wind, huddling deeper into his coat. The grand entrance to the opera was cold in the evening, large stone steps doing nothing but leeching the warmth from his body. He grumbled to himself, slouching in place as he sat on the stoop. He curled tighter, as if he could shove the bitter feelings down.

 Hugo scowled, picking at the grout between the large stones. The feeling of misery had been settling in his gut ever since Willow had finished quizzing Varian, a festering, horrible thing. It was a dread that had taken him for the whole evening, the blond unable to enjoy the last of his time with Varian before-

 Before he lost him.

 Hugo scowled again, flicking a rock. Varian was the missing lord. A fact that had been festering in his mind for hours. He had been the boy who had saved the real Varden- he had saved Varian, when they were children- he’d been the boy in the wall. Varian was Varden, clear as day. He looked like the missing boy because he was.

 The festering misery only grew worse, digging its claws deeper. Varian was royalty, was one of the heirs to a kingdom- and here was Hugo, with a stupid little infatuation with him. Even if he’d had a shot before- which he didn’t, not with Varian, who was good and kind and pure in a way that was too good for Hugo- he certainly didn’t now. Not with the status Varian finding his family would bring him. Not with a relation like the princess. Varian would surely have his pick of rich, handsome bachelors; Hugo didn’t have a snowflake’s chance in hell when compared to them.

 So yes. Yes, he was bitter, but not against Varian. Never against Varian- Hugo wouldn’t blame Varian for passing him by once someone who would give him what he deserved came along. How could he? Varian deserved the best and brightest, so that was what he’d get.

 And Hugo just wasn’t a contender.

 He felt his face twist into a scowl, picking up a nearby stone to fiddle with. He’d had one last good day with Varian, one more day to watch him smile and laugh, to see him happy. It had been like heaven, seeing the sun shining off those baby blue eyes; Hugo had tried to bask his fill before he’d lose Varian for good. It hurt, knowing his time with Varian was being cut, that he wouldn’t ever be able to pursue the feelings that had burrowed in his chest-

 “Hugo?”

 The blond startled, his thoughts breaking off at the call of his name. He dropped the stone, twisting in his spot to see Varian, wrapped up in his oversized coat.

 “Are you okay?” The younger boy asked, arching a brow. Hugo smiled, standing quickly. He brushed himself off, forcing his face into a smirk.

 “Of course, Sweetcheeks,” he said. “What, worried about little ol’ me?”

 Varian scoffed, but even Hugo could hear the fondness in it. “I just don’t want to be late.” He said, turning and walking towards the opera doors without looking back. Hugo followed without complaint, ditching his coat at one of the checks before trying to find Varian in the crowd again. He never did see what Varian had picked out to wear, he’d been too busy trying to keep Yong on task at the time, so Hugo had no idea what he was even looking for…

 But oh, when he saw it.

 Green eyes caught the flash of blue first, Varian’s blue streak popping out in the sea of black suits. He’d gotten rid of the ugly overcoat, leaving him in a well tailored, form fitting suit made of dark navy material. His shirt was a pressed white, with a blue tie that matched his eyes perfectly-

 Hugo felt his heart thump.

 Varian was looking around nervously, playing with the necklace he never took off. When he caught sight of Hugo, his face split into a large grin, waving awkwardly. Varian carefully picked his way through the crowd, awkwardly shuffling past people until he finally stood in front of Hugo with a small grin.

 “I couldn’t find you,” he laughed, “I thought you'd gotten lost!”

 Hugo was dumbstruck, unable to focus. His tongue felt weighted, his eyes drawn to Varian’s face and unable to look away. The shorter boy looked at him with an expectant face, waiting for him to reply- oh shit, he had to reply.

 “You… you look really nice.” Hugo choked out, awkwardly stumbling over the words. Varian blinked, a small blush sparking across his face at the compliment.

 “I-” he stuttered, “Thank you. You do too.”

 It was a strange moment between them, something fragile but important, a tie in the space between that kept them both rooted to the spot. The buzz of the crowds filtered away, the world narrowing down to just them. Hugo knew that this was it- his last shot, the last chance he’d get to tell Varian how he felt, after this it was over. All it would take is for him to spit it out, to say I think I love you, to just try.

 “I… we should get to our seats,” he said.

 Varian smiled, allowing Hugo to lead him by the arm into the auditorium. Hugo swallowed the regret, the pain, and forced his face into a smile. Varian deserved the world, and the world was what he’d get.

 The opera was boring. Hugo wasn’t usually one for musical theatre, so he mostly ended up watching as Varian nervously tore his playbill to shreds in his lap. Eventually he’d taken Varian by the hand, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

 “It’ll be okay,” he murmured over the singing, “You’ll be fine.”

 The way Varian smiled at him was more than enough for Hugo. He forced himself to commit it to memory, to save the feeling for later, once the ghosts were all he had left.

 At intermission they made their way to the upper balconies, meeting Willow in the main hallway.

 “You made it, good!” The woman said, clapping her hand. “Hugo, you go first. Introduce yourself, tell her you found him. She’s had a bad day today, you’ll need to be delicate.”

 “Sure, delicate,” Hugo muttered, “I can do that.”

 He slipped into the booth through a curtain, only just catching sight of Varian’s worried gaze as he did so. The booth was large, lavish and opulent. Hugo quietly marveled at the plush carpet under his shoes, the soundless way he moved through the space. Curtains hung from every wall, gold leaf and delicate paintings covered any surface not coated in a thick velvet.

 And there, sitting on one of the large, wingback chairs, was the princess herself.

 Rapunzel was radiant, her long, blonde hair spilling out behind her. Her purple dress was beautiful, a layered skirt and tight top accenting her form. Green eyes looked out numbly towards the crowd. When Hugo looked closely, he could see where thick makeup covered deep bruises caused by sleepless nights. Rapunzel, for all she was the essence of grace and beauty, had an air of sorrow around her that refused to leave.

 Hugo stepped forwards, trying to be calm. For Varian.

 “Your majesty,” he began.

 Rapunzel turned to look at him, her gaze boring into him. Two pairs of green eyes locked onto each other, Rapunzel’s face scrunching up in confusion.

 “Hello?” She said, obviously puzzled as to why he was here. “Can I help you?”

 “You can,” he replied. Hugo inched closer, kneeling next to her chair. “I’ve travelled here from Corona, I have someone that I think you’d really want to meet. His name’s Varian-”

 “Ah,” her face crumpled in obvious misery. “Another man chasing after the reward money, huh?”

 “No!” Shit, he’d been afraid of this, “No, ma’am really, I think that I’ve really found him. I used to work at the palace, I was the serving boy that got the two of you out-”

 Rapunzel’s eyes flashed in recognition, but her face remained sad. “Everyone who ever worked at the palace has put their Varden’s forward to me.” Her tone was bitter, exhausted. “And I’m done. I’m sorry, but I won’t be seeing anyone else about the reward. My brother is dead. I can’t keep trying to find him when he obviously has left us. Please, leave me to my mourning.”

 Hugo stuttered, flinching when he felt hands on his shoulders. A security guard started to tug him backward, but he refused, shoving himself toward the princess.

 “No, you have to listen!” He cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. Rapunzel seemed shocked, blinking at him, but he shook her gently. “You have to meet him, he remembers you, please, just give him a chance!”

 Rapunzel’s face crumpled. “My brother is dead,” she snapped.

 And that was the end of it.

 Hugo was wrenched out of the booth by the security guard, the blond shouting as he was pulled away from the princess. In what felt like a split second he was thrown into the hallway, landing with an oomph on the carpet. He got his hands under him, pushing himself up to see a pair of black shoes.

 He looked up, seeing Varian near tears. Hugo shoved himself off the floor, drawing close.

 “It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Varian asked, his tone dangerous. He sounded furious. He sounded devastated.

 “No,” Hugo tried to touch his arms, but Varian pulled away, “No, no, it’s not like that, I swear-”

 “I was just part of your con?” Varian’s whole body shrank into itself, the hurt in his voice clear. “Just a trick to get her money?”

 “No,” Hugo repeated, desperately trying to get his point across, “No- okay it might have started that way, but it’s different now!”

 Varian turned away, the shock clear on his face as he started to leave. Hugo rushed in front of him, cutting his access to the stairs off. “You are Varden,” Hugo gasped, flinching when Varian’s eyes went cold.

 “Will you stop it?” The shorter boy hissed, shoving at Hugo’s chest. “From the moment this whole thing began you were lying to me, and I was stupid enough to believe you!” He let out a groan of frustration, clenching his fists in the air. Varian’s tone had gone from pained to furious, the air around him dropping a good few degrees.

 “Varian, please, just listen to me-”

 “No!” Varian snapped, “I’m sick of listening to you! Can’t you just leave me alone?” He tried to shove past Hugo, going for the stairs, but the blond caught him by the arm. Varian paused, his face darkening in a scowl as he twisted around and-

 SLAP.

 People in the crowd gasped, watching as Varian yanked his arm out of Hugo’s grip. The blond paused, eyes wide as he brought a hand up to feel his stinging cheek. The shock was immense, nearly enough to quell the ache that had sprung from the hit, but not quite.

 Varian disappeared down the stairs, vanishing into the stunned crowd. Hugo took a second to breathe, to pull his raging emotions back into check, to just panic, before launching himself into the crowd. He pushed past people roughly, uncaring as they whined at his lack of manners.

 Varian, where’s Varian? His mind had narrowed down to one focus, one mission. He couldn’t the stripe of blue anywhere, the other boy having well and truly disappeared. Hugo ended up outside the opera, standing in the misty evening and looking around frantically for his missing friend. It was nearly abandoned outside, the streets quiet.

 Hugo panted as he searched, the devastation slowly sinking into him. He’d screwed up, horribly. He had to make it right, had to apologize, had to-

 Shit, what did he even do now?

 Hugo’s breaths came faster, him having to force air into his aching lungs. Varian must hate him, must think he’s horrible. But Varian was Varden, was the missing lord, this was his chance to get Varian to his family. If Hugo failed now, it was over, for all of them.

 He spun around, trying to catch sight of Varian, but still only saw empty cobblestone streets. A carriage was nearby, the driver waiting nearby as-

 Rapunzel.

 The princess was getting into her carriage, her face molded into a blank slate. Hugo paused, thinking hard- he could get executed for this… but Varian deserved to be with his family, regardless of if Hugo were a part of the picture.

 With that thought in mind, he stalked forward, and got into the driver side of the carriage.

>>>><<<<

 Varian scrubbed at his face roughly, chewing the inside of his cheek to stave off the tears.

 He roughly chucked more of his things into his suitcase, uncaring as to how they fell. His vision swam with bitter tears, eyes burning against the salt.

 Gods, he was so stupid, how could he ever think Hugo would ever be anything other than a dirty, lying cheat-

 Varian slammed his suitcase shut. Ruddiger whined from his place on the bed, the raccoon obviously picking up on Varian’s sour mood. He sighed, reaching out a gentle hand for the animal. Ruddiger chittered, pressing into the touch. Varian blinked away the tears, only to scowl when new ones took their place.

 “Sorry, bud,” he sniffed. “This was stupid of me to drag you all the way here. We’re going home.”

 He heard the door creak behind him. Varian scowled, turning and expecting to see Hugo. He was surprised, then, when he saw a young woman standing in the room with him. She was beautiful, but her face was horribly sad. Her blond hair was frazzled, her dress stained with mud, but her stance was still one of immense power.

 “Y-your majesty,” Varian stuttered. Rapunzel only smiled, taking a seat on the bench of a nearby vanity.

 “So you’re the next Varden, then?” She asked him. Her gaze was expectant, judging.

 Tired.

 “I… I just want to know who I am.” He replied. It was painful, to bare his soul to a woman who was effectively a stranger, but if this was his chance… he’d still take it. “I want to know if I belong to a family. Your family.”

 Rapunzel paused smiling softly. “You’re a very good actor,” she said. “The best yet, in fact. But I think I’m ready to let my brother go.”

 He took a seat next to her, slouching. He’d been hopeful, that much was true, but he couldn’t blame her heart for being broken one too many times. He took a steadying breath through his nose, but paused when he smelt something particular.

 “Is that… paint?” He asked. “Or lavender?”

 “Both,” Rapuzel shrugged. “It’s a special type I order from Pincoasta. Gets the colour just right-”

 “I… didn’t I try to make you a bottle?” He asked, rubbing at his temples with a hand. His head was killing- “But I spilt the oil, on your mother’s favorite carpet. And it reeked of lavender from then on.”

 The princess paused, sitting back down on the bench. “I- yes,” she said, her eyes wide. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened. How did you know that?”

 “I don’t- I don’t know,” Varian stuttered. “I was found with no memories at about six years old. I get… I don’t know, flashes or whatever you’d like to call them. They’re always random, but it’ll be things like smells, tastes… or faces, that bring a memory up.”

 The princess looked at him with that same calculating expression before her eyes trained down to the chain around his neck. “What’s that?” She asked quietly, gesturing to the necklace.

 Varian looked down at it as well, a blush working across his face. “Oh,” he mumbled. “It was something I was found with. It was my clue for trying to come here.”

 Rapunzel looked shell shocked, green eyes blown wide as he took the necklace off and handed it to her. “I… I got him a present,” she told Varian. “Before my parents and I were to go on a trip. So he’d remember me while we were gone.” Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of the pendant, a few trailing down her freckled cheeks. With a small movement she pulled out her bag, drawing out a small, porcelain box. Varian gasped at the sight of it, holding his hand out. She tipped it and the necklace into his palm, crying harder as he inspected it.

 “The music box,” he mumbled, “I remember this. It was so I wouldn’t miss you as much, and it would sing me to sleep.”

 He began to hum to himself as he slotted the pendant into the premade slot, gently turning the crank within. Rapunzel let out a wet gasp as she recognized the tune, the woman blinking away tears as the music box opened. The tiny automaton began its dance, the music trilling through the quiet room.

 ““Soon you'll be, home with me,” She sang to the tune. Varian’s voice floated along with hers, “Once upon a December.”

 Rapunzel fully let out a sob, Varian following along as their eyes met. Without any more hesitation she lunged forward, wrapping him up in a hug. His hands found their way to her back, clinging tight.

 “Varden,” she sobbed, “I thought you were dead-”

 “It’s- heh, it’s Varian,” he giggled out through the tears. “And I didn’t even know I was lost.”  

 Rapunzel held him tighter, laughing into his hair.

 Neither of them saw how, standing on the sidewalk down below, Hugo stood looking up at the window. He held himself high, an honest smile gracing his face. He brought his fingers up to his lips, gently kissing them before raising his hand in a palm up gesture towards the window. He paused for only a second more, coat in hand, before turning and leaving the mansion behind.

 With this, he would have to be content.

>>>><<<<

 Varian bit at his lip, reaching towards his neck. His hand touched air, and he felt a small sinking in his stomach when he realized that he’d left his necklace behind. He let his hand drop, instead picking at his fingers. He hid behind the curtain in front of him, staring out into the massive ballroom beyond, one even more grand than the ones in his recently unlocked memories. He bit at his lip, watching the elites mill about together. He felt out of place already, trussed up in a suit fancier than anything he’d even seen before; the nerves were going to eat him alive.

 “Vard- Varian?” Rapunzel’s voice cut through the anxiety. Varian paused, looking to her with a forced smile. She laughed at his expression, reaching up to gently fix the circlet on his head. He was thankful she was willing to use his second name- after being Varian for so long, he didn’t really want to switch back.

 “Rapunzel,” he greeted, letting his face fall a little. She kept her smile, cupping his cheek.

 “Are you okay?” She asked him. She pushed his hair away from his face, cocking her head.

 “I’m fine,” he lied. There was a pause as she stared him down, the boy quickly breaking. “I was just looking for someone.”

 Rapunzel paused, turning away from him to look out to the party. “He’s not there,” she said sadly, “Though I wish he was. He’s a remarkable young man.”

 “Oh, I’m sure he’s fine,” Varian said, only a little sour, “He’s probably off spending his reward money as quickly as he can.”

 Rapunzel sighed. She gestured towards the guests again, tilting her head. “This is the world we were born into,” she said, her hand waving gracefully. “You were born for riches, gold and diamonds, princes and lords. But is that really what you want?”

 Varian backed away, letting the curtain fall shut. “Of course it is!” He tried to defend, refusing to meet Rapunzel’s eye. “Of course, I found what I was looking for, didn’t I? I found out who I was, I found you-”

 “And you’ll always have me,” Rapunzel assured. “But is it enough?”

 Varian paused, looking at her in confusion. She reached forwards, drawing him into a hug. He hugged her back without pause, unsure of where she was going with this.

 “Varian,” she whispered to him. “Hugo didn’t take the money.”

 “He… he didn’t?”

 She shook her head with a smile. “You’ve grown so much since I saw you,” she grinned. “And I’m so proud of who you’ve become. But… you have to be sure you’re listening to your heart,” she pushed a hand to his chest, gentle, “And no matter where it takes you… know that we’ll always have each other.”

 Varian stuttered, unsure. Rapunzel let him go, slowly going towards the party. She smiled at him one last time before vanishing between the curtains. Varian watched her go, biting his lip.

 For a second he stood stalk still, unable to think- what did he really want? He could follow her, become a prince, live a life of luxury with the family he’d always tried to find… or he could return to the one he’d built. The family he’d stitched together with tape and glue, with Nuru and Yong…

 And Hugo.

 Varian took a step towards the curtain, but stopped himself. He bit at his lip, tapping his foot. He finally spun on his heel with a groan, headed for the door, when something caught his eye.

 A bright fuchsia light glowed from the gardens beyond, wildly out of place against the cool glow of the moon. Varian watched as it flickered, moving around in the distance. He spared one last look to the ballroom before stepping away, walking into the garden beyond.

 It was a warm evening, but he still felt a chill. Varian rubbed at his arms, shuddering. A thick mist permeated the garden, choking out the moonlight before it could really hit the stone path. The pink light was gone, leaving the garden pitched into a strange collage of shadows. Varian spun a bit, trying to find the source, when he heard a sudden voice on the wind.

 Varian.

 He tensed, looking further down the path towards where the voice was coming from. Another gust of wind made him shiver, rubbing at his arms again. He kept moving forwards, deeper into the garden despite the sense of apprehension and danger he was starting to feel.

 Varian.

 He kept walking, startling when he saw another flash of colour out of the corner of his eye.

 “Hello?” He called into the darkness. Something about this was setting him on edge, something in the way the air froze in his lungs. He walked a little faster, eventually finding himself on a large bridge. Water rushed below, nearly deafening. Varian shuddered again, the air was even colder here with the water nearby. He scanned around for the owner of the voice, pausing when he saw a figure on the bridge.

 “H-hello?” His voice was weak in the darkness, fear slowly creeping in. He should go back, back to the warmth and the light-

 “Varian,” the voice, a female one, purred. Varian tensed, moving towards the figure as she spoke. “Your royal highness- a young duke in your own right, hm?”

 Varian squinted, stopping on the bridge properly. The figure continued towards him, slowly taking a female shape. A large, puffy skirt danced around her ankles, long hair done up in two intricate buns. Varian caught sight of a shark’s smile splitting her face, eyes glowing fuchsia in the darkness.

 “Look at what the years have done to us, hm?” The fog parted around the woman at last, showing her nearly skeletal face. Varian flinched at how familiar it was, his nightmares-

 The woman smiled wider, holding her arms towards him. “You, a beautiful young thing… and me, a withered old corpse.”

 Varian’s mind raced, his breath picking up. He needed to run, needed to go, but his feet felt glued to the ground. He shuddered as the woman got closer, her hands barely an inch away from his skin.

 “Don’t you remember?” She asked him, “No? Hm, you were only a child, I suppose. It was a party, just like this one… though it certainly ended with a bang.”

 She waved her hand, her fingers warping into claws. Varian screamed as there was a rush of heat; he threw his arms up in front of his face at the feeling of fire on his skin. He was knocked back onto the stones, landing hard without his hands to stop the fall. The fire suddenly stopped, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

 He looked to the woman in shock, seeing what looked almost like a lantern in her hand. It was glowing that same pink, before settling down into a normal light. She smirked as he stared at her. Varian sucked in a breath through his teeth, everything falling into place- his nightmares had all whispered a name to him, one that had haunted him since he was a child…

 “Zhan Tiri,” he breathed, nearly inaudible above the sound of rushing water below. Her smile grew, something smug and wicked. Varian forced himself into standing again, refusing to break eye contact as she stepped closer.

 “Smart child,” she cooed to him. “I can see some of my Demanitus in you… it’s time I fix that.”

 She waved the lantern again, forcing him to step back towards the railing of the bridge. Varian yelped as the stones shuddered under him, a wave of energy hitting him dead on. He felt tiny hands grabbing at him, trying to pull him towards the edge. He swatted without thinking, gasping when he saw small, demonic creatures swarming him. Varian cried out as one pulled at his hair, ripping it from its slicked back style and making it fall normally. He swiped at them again, panting as they disappeared into thin air. He didn’t need to look down to know his suit was ruined, his circlet gone; he leveled a glare at Zhan Tiri, wanting to smack the smug grin off her face.

 “I’m not scared of you!” He yowled, shoving his wayward hair behind his face. Zhan Tiri only laughed, standing tall as she waved the lantern again.

 “You will be,” she cackled, letting the magic burrow deep into the stones below. Varian shrieked as there was a large crack, the noise near deafening. He nearly fell as the bridge began to shake apart, a large chunk of it, the part he was standing on, beginning to break away. He tried to grab the handrail as it started to tip into the water, but failed.

 He let out a terrified scream as the floor dropped out from under him, falling forwards. He clung to the stones, his fingers nearly numb against the cold. The part of the bridge was nearly ninety degrees from the rest of it- Varian screamed again as he began to slide down towards the raging water. He only just managed to catch himself on an edge before he would have slipped over the side. A wave of nausea took him as he felt his legs swing in the open air.

 He heard a scuffle going on up on top of the bridge, but was too busy focusing on not plummeting to his death to care, until he saw a third figure break through the fog and slide down the broken bridge toward him.

 “Hugo?!” He gasped, clinging tighter as the blond skid to a stop in front of him and grabbed Varian’s arms.

 “Hey,” Hugo grunted, trying to pull Varian up. The smaller boy huffed out a breath, trying to scramble up onto the edge. He caught sight of the fear in Hugo’s eyes, and let out a gasp.

 “If we live through this, remind me to thank you,” Varian gasped as he was pulled, the stone digging into his stomach. He looked up, gasping at a flash of pink behind them-

 “Hugo, LOOK OUT!”

 The older teenager yelped as he was grabbed from behind. Hugo was dragged away by magic, cursing. Varian grunted as he was dropped again, sliding back down to hang off the edge again. His arms burned as he clung to the bridge; he heard Zhan Tiri cackle, Hugo swear.

 “How enchanting,” she laughed, “Together again, just in time to die!”

 Varian heard Hugo shriek, a high-pitched yelp that cut through the noise. He just caught sight of a massive statue bursting to life, the giant, stone horse slamming its hooves into the bridge. No guesses for what was occupying Hugo, then.

 Varian grit his teeth, reaching up and managing to catch a handhold in a cracked piece of the bridge. He pulled himself up, grunting with the exertion of it, and felt himself breathe a little easier once his feet were scrabbling against rock instead of open air. He kept pulling himself up the angled section of bridge, finally getting to the point where he could clamber up to hang off the edge of the standing part of the road.

 He caught sight of Hugo rolling between the stomping hooves, gasping as he clung to the edge. “Hugo!” he cried, throwing out a hand towards the other boy out of sheer desperation. It was because of that distraction that he didn’t even notice Zhan Tiri until she was right in front of him.

 The demon plucked him up by the front of his shirt with barely any effort, holding him high as he struggled.

 “Finally,” she hissed. “The last of Demanitus’ little kingdom, gone. Goodbye, your highness.”

 And with that, she let him drop. Varian shrieked as he fell, his heart jumping in his chest. He managed to snag a piece of metal that was jutting out from the bridge, wincing at the pain that raced up his shoulders when he did so. His body swung in open air, the only thing under him was the raging water a hundred feet below. He grit his teeth against the pain, hearing Hugo shout his name from the bridge. Zhan Tiri shrieked her laughter to the sky, cackling.

 “At last!” She cawed, “The end of Corona is here!”

 Varian swung his legs, forcing himself to move. They thought he was dead, he had a chance here-

 He managed to grab another part of the bridge with aching hands, his fingers nearly slipping. With a groan he pulled himself up onto the stone bridge, gasping for breath as he finally got solid cobble underneath him. He chanced a look up, seeing Zhan Tiri and Hugo locked in a battle of wills with each other. Varian clawed his way to his feet, running for the demon with a shout.

 He caught her in a tackle, sending them both tumbling to the stone. Varian ignored the pain in his body, reaching for the power source Zhan Tiri was carrying around. It glowed an ominous pink, a bright beacon in the dark.

 A target.

 Varian let out a gasp as he touched the lantern, an electric zing making his fingers numb. He felt a sudden kick to his stomach, the demon launching him away, but he kept his grip. Varian felt himself fly back, landing hard on his back. He groaned, rolling a bit on the stone. He caught sight of Hugo nearby, knocked unconscious by… something, and scowled.

 He got his feet under him at the same time Zhan Tiri did. The demon looked frantically around herself, but stopped when she saw the lantern in his hand.

 “Stop!” She shrieked, running towards Varian. He caught just a glimpse into her eyes, the rage and fire in them, before he whipped the lantern down at the ground, shattering it. He was thrown backwards, landing nearly on top of Hugo with a grunt. The world around them spun, flashing lights and colours overtaking the evening in a stunning light show and roaring winds.

 In the center of the vortex, Zhan Tiri screamed, the agony in her voice clear as she sank to the ground. Varian watched in abject horror as she collapsed, dropping to the cobblestone as she turned to dust. Her screams went silent, the flashing pink and roaring winds dying out in a sudden, terrible silence.

 Varian panted, sinking down to the stones as he caught his breath. He wasn’t well versed in this magic business, but turning to dirt probably wasn’t good for anyone, demon or no. He slowly turned on his knees, gently reaching for the man behind him.

 “Hugo?” He whispered, as if scared to break the quiet they’d found themselves in. Varian cupped Hugo’s face with gentle hands, trying to rouse him. “Hugo, c’mon…”

 But Hugo didn’t even stir.

 Varian fought back tears, his eyes searching the other teenager’s face. “Please wake up?” He asked, desperate. “Please?”

 He sniffled, turning away for a second to wipe at his eyes. The fear and adrenaline was starting to leave him, leaving only aches and sorrow in their wake, Varian’s body shook from the ordeal it had gone through, an involuntary spasm as he cried.

 But then, like the sun through clouds, a gasping breath.

 Varian twisted back around, his face splitting into a grin as he saw Hugo’s eyes open. The blond looked confused, still dazed from whatever had hit him, but Varian didn’t pause, instead throwing himself into Hugo’s chest with a happy noise.

 “Ow,” Hugo whined at the impact, “Ow, c’mon Sweetcheeks, wanna maybe be gentle?”

 “Oh, sorry!” Varian backed off, a little, but he was still close enough that their noses were almost touching. He cocked his head, looking at the green eyes in front of him.

 “You… came back?” Varian asked, “I thought you were going back to-”

 “I was,” Hugo shrugged, not meeting Varian’s eye, “But, uh, I…”

 “You didn’t take the-”

 “I couldn’t.”

 Varian’s head dipped a little more, drawing closer to Hugo. “Why?”

 The blond paused, shrinking a bit. “Because I…”

 Varian stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, the shorter boy moving closer. They were only centimeters apart, their breaths mingling-

 Tink.

 They startled at the noise. Varian looked down to see he’d nudged his circlet, the shining diamonds still bright in the evening light. Hugo smiled, something quiet and resigned, before picking up the crown. He stood, Varian following quickly.

 “They’ll be waiting for you,” Hugo murmured. He held the circlet to Varian, who took it with gentle hands. He stared down at it, contemplating, before looking back up at Hugo.

 And just like that, he made his choice.

>>>><<<<

 Rapunzel entered her grand foyer, Willow following her closely.

 “I’m sure we’ll find him, darling,” Willow placated, “He can’t have gone far.”

 Rapunzel only smiled knowingly, catching a glint of shine on a nearby table. She walked to it, picking up Varian’s circlet from the tabletop. Her face split into a wide smile, reading the accompanying note quickly before passing it to Willow. Her aunt took the paper, scanning it, before gasping.

 “They’ve eloped!” She cooed, “Isn’t that romantic?”

 Rapunzel grinned, joyful tears in her eyes. She held Varian’s crown to her, smiling at the thought of her baby brother out there, happy at last. She watched as Willow dabbed at her eyes, sniffling. Rapunzel laughed as Willow cooed again, holding the note out back to her. The princess only turned away, looking out her window towards the expanse of Vardaros.

 Something in her settled at last, content to know he was out there, finally living his life. She took one last breath, blinking away the last of the tears as she focused on the distant river. If she imagined, she could almost catch a flash of blue on the deck of one of the boats.

 Though she may not know it at the time, Varian stood on one of those very ships, laughing as Hugo bowed to him. He performed an overly dramatic mime of a curtsey, letting Hugo take him by the arm and begin to spin him, giggling as they danced together. His face glowed with the light of his smile, drawing closer to Hugo as they danced, until finally-

 The press of Hugo’s lips on his was like coming home at long last.

 Varian smiled into the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup Hugo’s face close to his own, deepening the kiss as it went on. When they finally split for air, there was a split second of pause, the two of them trying to memorize the other’s eyes.

 Hugo finally broke the quiet, dipping forwards to scoop Varian up into a bridal carry, spinning them both. Varian openly laughed at that, throwing his arms around the blond’s neck and pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek. He blinked past a sudden rush of happy tears, hugging Hugo tight to him for as long as he could.

 Finally, he was home.

[vangoghmusings]

noise complaint- self ship

pairing: kuroo x pat

warnings: alcohol, smoking, party culture, sexual assault ptsd 

word count: 2589

a/n: HNGKNSFKLS THIS IS LAME BUT i just wanted to imagine patsuro in my current college setting :’)) this is self indulgent and kinda comfort fluff?? and yes i’m aware i seem like a bitch i tried to be as honest about how i act in irl,, otherwise enjoy... 

Patricia hummed and shut her eyes happily as the sun hit her face. She swung her keys attached to her lanyard as she made her way to her campus apartment. As a sophomore in college, she was honestly surprised she even made it past one year. Her strength was in street smarts rather than book smarts, yet here she was. She waved to a few familiar faces as she walked through the campus and made her way into her dorm building. She was beyond ecstatic for this school year, living with her best friends and delving further into her major.  

She stopped at her door, covered in decorations she had made with her roommates. She smiled softly, a sense of hope for the school year filling her.  

That hope quickly faded as she heard a familiar voice while she attempted to open the door to her apartment.  

“Patricia!”  

She looked over to see a tall messy haired boy walking towards her. She sighed and turned to him, leaning against her locked door.  

“Kuroo.”  

He rolled his eyes and stopped in front of her.  

“Why do you only call me by my last name?”  

“Because I can’t just give you the satisfaction of letting you hear me say your real name, can I?”  

He sighed and looked down at her as she lazily crossed her arms over her chest.  

“How was your summer?”  

“Fine, I worked a lot.”  

“The garden center, right?”

“Mhm.”  

Kuroo nodded and looked down at his feet. He was aware Patricia wasn’t fond of him. Frankly she couldn’t help it. He didn’t know but she was terrified of men. Previous trauma had developed into PTSD which manifested into a constant state of anger towards any man that came her way. It wasn’t healthy or right but it's how it was. However, Kuroo saw this as flat out hatred rather than a deep-rooted fear.  

“Well,” He said before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to let you know I’m your floor RA this year.”  

Patricia nodded slowly and gave him a soft smile.  

“Cool, I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”  

“Thanks, but you should be aware I’ll be strict about underage drinking and-”  

Patricia gasped and placed her hand on her chest in mock offense.  

“Me? Drinking? Oh Kuroo, I’m not that kind of girl.”  

Kuroo raised a brow and gave her a doubtful look.  

“Still playing the good Catholic school girl act?”  

Patricia chuckled and hummed looking down at her feet and back up at Kuroo.  

“This is a Catholic university, I’m a girl, and I’m literally majoring in Theology. I don’t know if that’s an act. I’m as much of a goodie two shoes as you are Kuroo.”  

“I highly doubt-”  

“And besides,” She said with a snide grin, “if we don’t sin a little, then Jesus died for nothing right?”  

Kuroo scoffed and before he could form a sentence to combat her ridiculous statement, she unlocked her door and gave him a wave.  

“Don’t worry Kuroo, just because I own a key to the campus sacristy, doesn’t mean I’ll steal the holy wine.”  

He gaped as she slid into her apartment, giving him a teasing wink, and hearing the door lock.  

That following Friday, Patricia found herself trapped in the same hallway.  

“Gretchen is DDing right?” She asked her roommate while adjusting her mini backpack.  

“Yup!” Her roommate, Dashi chirped while texting. Patricia grinned and turned to lock the door when she heard a familiar ‘tsk’. She sighed and looked to see Kuroo dressed down in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked oddly good, or was it her Friday night hunger?  

“Kuroo!” She sang and gave him a big grin.  

“Patricia, Dashi,” He said, giving a nod at each girl. He paused slightly, looking Patricia up and down. She was usually caught wearing leggings and baggy t-shirts with hiking sandals, but tonight, she wore jeans, heels, and a black body suit that was probably more low-cut than it should’ve been. She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in his face.  

“Kuroo, you pervert. What do you want?” She glared up at him, propping her hand on her waist.  

He blinked, his face flush with embarrassment.  

“You look nice.”  

Patricia nodded and gave him a tart smile.  

“Thanks. Did you need something?”  

Dashi watched, her eyes peering away from her phone screen. It was painful to watch. Patricia was usually quite good at reading people, however the image of the flustered boy in front of her didn’t seem to connect the dots of attraction in her mind.  

“Just, be safe tonight okay?”  

She rolled her eyes a began to walk out the door, Dashi at her side.  

“Will do,” She cooed while giving him a mocking salute while walking backwards and turning on her heel as she got to the door.  

Kuroo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was just so fake. A doe-eyed attentive student in class, participating and kissing ass for professors, working for campus ministry, running the prayer nights, leading religious retreats, and going to church on Sundays. Yet now she was out and ready to do God knows what. She was a sly liar, and she loved every minute of being a complete enigma.  

Dashi and Patricia reached the apartment, a dorm complex nicknamed the Hive by students. It was where the buzz happened while everyone got buzzed. Patricia grinned at the feeling of the floor vibrating and the air smelling like sweat and weed. The messy sensation always managed to bring her joy. They shuffled inside, the apartment packed with drunken and high college students. Patricia inhaled the hot air deeply and scanned the living room for a familiar face.  

There sat one of her roommates Mix on their boyfriend's lap, rolling a join with nimble fingers as he softly kissed their neck. She chuckled, those two were attached at the hip. She pointed them out to Dashi and they made their way over.  

“Mix!” Patricia sang and gave her roommate a wave.  

“Pat Pat!” They gasped and stumbled getting up. Ushijima, their boyfriend set his hands on their hips to help them regain balance. They giggled, their usual stone demeanor diminished under the ruse of weed and alcohol. “Here!! You need to catch up,” They said, licking the joint to seal it and then handing It over to her.  

“Aw thanks Mix!” Patricia gave a thankful smile as Ushijima handed her the lighter that he managed to tuck behind his ear. She lit the joint and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fall from her nose slowly. Mix clapped happily as she chuckled and handed the joint to Dashi.  

“Tay is in the kitchen by the way,” Ushijima said softly. Patricia nodded and gave the couple each a pat on the head before sneaking into the kitchen, the idea of a cup of WOP calling her name. She smiled seeing Tay who was talking to a boy who she recognized from her ceramics class as Touya.  

“Taaaay,” She sang before giving her roommate a hug. Tay laughed and hugged back.  

“Hey love!” Tay smiled, a dreamy expression on her face, either from alcohol or talking to the very attractive boy. Patricia giggled and gave her a nod of approval before going to pour herself a cup of whatever the hell was in the WOP tonight. She knew she needed to catch up, deciding to down the cup, despite the burn in her throat.  

“Shit,” she mumbled before refilling the cup. She took a few leisurely sips before returning to the smoking sesh with Mix and Ushijima, Dashi had disappeared onto the dance floor and appeared to be grinding on a very flustered yellow haired boy. Patricia picked up the still hot joint and brought it to her lips, taking a slow drag before looking over at Mix, who seemed to be whispering in Ushijima’s ear, his face a deep crimson at every word they spoke. Patricia giggled and took another sip, the joint tucked between her index and middle finger as she held the cup. She was buzzed, giggly and light, but nothing major. The struggles of a high alcohol tolerance.  

“AYO QUIET!”  

The shout was heard over the hum of the party, and the music quickly died. There was a knock on the door.  

“RA on call! We got a noise complaint.”  

Patricia blinked and sighed. The other party goers where shuffling around to hide and scattering in different directions. Too irritated to care, she went to open the door, knowing that if they made the RA wait any longer that campus police would show up. She opened the door and if her frown couldn’t get any bigger, it did.  

There stood Kuroo with his RA fanny-pack sitting across his chest. He seemed to have matching smile, that only grew into shock as he watched Patricia take sip of her drink while continuing to make eye contact with him.  

“We got a noise complaint?” She asked, her half-lidded eyes a shade of pink.  

Kuroo narrowed his own eyes and stepped inside.  

“You know I have to report this as illegal activity.”  

She sighed and nodded, taking the cup in her other hand and taking a puff from the joint, blowing it gently in Kuroo’s face. He winced at the smell and she smiled softly.  

“Yeah, I know.”  

He scoffed and glared at her as she set the items down, stepping out into the hallways and closing the door behind her.  

“Theres a lot of people in there. Just mark me down, ok? I don’t want you to have the reputation of the hated RA.”  

He tilted his face at the oddly considerate offer but proceeded to shake his head.  

“I can’t do that, that’s against the rules.”  

Patricia gave and exasperated sigh and leaned against the wall of the hallway, the dim yellow lights exposing her red cheeks and red eyes.  

“I’m just trying to help you out, Tetsuro.”  

He blinked.  

“You said my first name.”  

“It's a means of persuasion,” she replied before reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “C’mon,” She said while beginning to walk down the hall. “Let's go back home so you can rest, and I can watch Netflix.”  

Kuroo watched as she swayed slightly as she walked and huffed, walking beside her. As by instinct, he reached to take her hand as a means of balancing her, but she quickly swatted it away, fear plastered on her face.  

“W-What are you doing?” She asked, holding her hand close to her chest, her eyes full of uncertainty.  

“I-I-, you we’re swaying a lot and I didn’t want you to fall over.”  

Patricia eyed him, rubbing her hands together anxiously.  

“Thats it? Swear you won’t pull anything?”  

Kuroo frowned, offended by her accusation.  

“Do you think I’m that kind of person?”  

She looked down at her hands, tears welling in her eyes.  

“Aren’t all boys like that?”  

Kuroo looked down stunned, at first from offence, but then by the fact that the usually relaxed and cheerful Patricia looked like she had seen a ghost. He quickly connected the dots and nodded slowly.  

“I’m sorry...but I can assure you I’m not like that.”  

She looked up at him, tears ready to spill. Kuroo bit his lip in hesitation, but slowly reached up to gingerly wipe her tears away with his thumbs.  

“I promise,” He whispered.  

Patricia stared at him with wide glassy eyes, searching his face for any sort of evidence that he was lying. When she couldn’t find any, she dove into his chest, hugging him tightly.  

“Thank you,” she cried softly into his chest, his shirt getting wet from her tears. He hushed her gently and hugged back, rubbing her back gently. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, Patricia focused on the feeling of Kuroo’s large hands rubbing her back sweetly. There was no sense of malice or any sign that he would hurt her. So, she relished in the newfound sense of safety.  

She sniffled and looked up at him, pulling away quickly.  

“Sorry,” she croaked out while weakly gesturing to the tear stain on his chest.  

He shrugged, “It's just salt water. Let's get you some water and sober you up okay?”  

Patricia nodded and looked down, pouting slightly like a small child, still swaying with each step. Kuroo chuckled and once again reached for her hand as she walked. Except this time, she didn’t pull away.  

Once they reached the dorm hall, Kuroo looked down at Patricia, who seemed to have calmed down.  

“Is it cool if we go to my apartment. I’ve got bottled water and double stuffed Oreos.”  

“Those are my favorite,” She said with a sniffle.  

Kuroo chuckled and nodded.  

“Yeah I know, you put them on your resident introduction sheet.”  

She nodded, remembering the form she filled out before moving into her new residence hall.  

They reached Kuroo’s door and walked inside. Patricia looked around and the surprisingly clean apartment.  

“Here,” he said, bringing her back to earth, “Water.”  

She nodded and took the bottle, chugging it down quickly. A dribble of water rand down her chin and down her chest, causing Kuroo to look away flushed. She furrowed her eyes at him and lazily wiped her lips.  

“Hm?”  

“Nothing,” Kuroo mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. Patricia rolled her eyes and jumped to sit up on his countertop.  

“Have you ever done anything with a girl Kuroo?”

Kuroo blinked and looked down at his feet, his usual prideful demeanor gone.  

“Not really. Just like making out and stuff.”  

“So, you’re a virgin?” She asked him, tilting her head in curiosity. Her eyes were no longer noticeably puffy and her face was much less red as before.  

“I mean...I guess.”  

Patricia nodded slowly, eyeing Kuroo up and down as if she was analyzing every little thing about him. He was undeniably handsome. She was almost upset it took her a small break down to realize how truly caring he seemed. Just because he was a figure of authority shouldn’t have equated a dislike for him. She eyed his soft pink lips and smiled slightly. He really was pretty.  

“Do you want to kiss Tetsuro?”  

Kuroo looked up at her, sincerity in her face. There was something about the way she said his name that just felt like pure velvet.  

“I-, are you sure?”  

She nodded and gave him a soft smile.  

“Yeah, plus I want to kiss you.”  

Kuroo nodded slowly and stepped in between Patricia’s knees which hung off the counter.  

“May I?” He asked quietly, his hands hovering above her thighs. She giggled softly and nodded. Kuroo placed his large hands on her thighs and she smiled looking down at him and back up at his face. He loomed over her.  

“You’re tall,” She hummed in a whisper.  

Slowly, she brought her hand up to the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her level gently. She gaped her mouth open, Kuroo’s lips grazing hers in anticipation. Patricia smiled before closing her eyes and leaning into Kuroo, their lips molding together. The kisses started out subtle, but soon turned heated and Patricia wound up with her hands against his chest, biting down gently on his bottom lip. She pulled away with a slight tug and let go, her eyes opening to look at Kuroo’s bright pink face. She giggled and pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek.  

“Thank you for the water.”  

[fantastic-secrets]

Butterfly Wings [1]

Fandom: Bleach

Summary: "Have you ever wondered what would happen if you tore off a butterfly's wings? Do you think it would crawl on the ground, struggling to survive? Or would it just die slowly, deprived of its freedom?"

When Gin joins the Fifth Division of the Gotei 13 to keep an eye on Aizen and carry out his revenge, the Vice-Captain welcomes him with open arms. Soon, they’re playing a game of cat-and-mouse, each trying to guess what the other knows and their motives. Aizen, in particular, seems to enjoy pushing Gin down into the mire, and for Gin, there’s no turning back.

Characters: Ichimaru Gin, Aizen Sousuke

Warnings: Murder, Innuendo

Word Count: 1.8k

He wasn't unfamiliar with death. But there was always something different about taking a life with his own hands. Despite the presence behind him, he didn't move as he gazed down at the lump of flesh, composing his feelings. This was just the first step in his plan, and his goal was much too important to ever make a misstep.

The events of the evening had been carefully choreographed from the moment he stepped onto the grounds this morning. During the tour, he'd carefully paid attention to his surroundings, fixing in mind where the seated officers' quarters were and the ideal location in which to call out his opponent. Then, with just the right balance of flattery and confidence, he'd asked for a private practice match, fully aware that his reputation preceded him. The other man's pride--and his fear of having that pride dragged into the mud before everyone else--sealed the deal. Really, the most difficult part was making sure that he was caught by just the right person; anyone else, and all his careful efforts would be rendered entirely useless. It couldn't appear to be anything but a coincidence, so as not to raise suspicion, and despite his calm facade, his heart had been racing the whole time, until he sensed someone stop to watch them. Watching, but not raising a hand… not even when his opponent had called out for help in desperation, finally relinquishing his foolish pride as he grasped for life. And that was when he was certain, and he had struck the final blow without hesitation and with a quieting heart. 

So when his companion finally spoke, he was able to turn and greet him with a smile and a tone of calm indifference despite being half-covered in blood. But it really was strange, how easy it was to defeat the third seat. Even if his opponent had never seriously considered the possibility that a mere "kid" would really try to kill him, he had been way too soft. If this was the level of the Gotei 13, it really was no surprise that Soul Society couldn't even keep its affairs in order. So when the fukutaichou asked for his opinion, he answered truthfully, and not just because that was the answer Aizen expected.

"Completely useless. What a joke."

That slight smile told him everything: he had passed the first test. He had the resolve to kill another human and the skills to fulfill the task. Of course, Gin wasn't naive enough to think that Aizen trusted him at all with just that, but that would come in time. On the other hand, the fukutaichou was highly respected and renowned as a kind man; Rangiku had gushed about how lucky he was to have been accepted into the Fifth Company and the importance of making a good impression on his superiors. At the time, Gin had reassured her that that was exactly what he intended to do.

"Ichimaru-kun, I would like you to be my subordinate."

Still grinning, Gin tilted his head as though he was puzzled by the statement. "Ain't I already, though, Aizen-fukutaichou? I'm part'a the Fifth Company like ya, right? 'less you're saying ya think I wanna fight ya for yer seat, or the taichou's. I ain't that good."

"Not yet, but perhaps in the future," Aizen agreed, favoring him with another smile that said he saw right through Gin's innocent charade. "Now, wash up and go back to bed. I'll take care of the cleanup here."

It wasn't until much later that Gin learned just how the fukutaichou had managed to disguise the murder as a suicide. But in the end, nobody questioned the situation when the body was found the next day, or challenged his assignment to the third seat. There was certainly some resentment over the fact that a recruit fresh from the Academy would be given the position, but everyone recognized that the so-called genius was more than qualified to hold it.

So like a shadow, Gin was often found trailing behind Aizen, always smiling and eager to please his superior. "A creepy kid" seemed to be the general consensus about him, and many seemed relieved that he had attached himself so closely to the highly respected fukutaichou, as if they expected that Aizen would keep him in check. But really, it wasn't as though he had ever been caught doing something wrong. He was just too clever, too strong, and too young… combined with his polite indifference towards most, it scared people. Both of them recognized that truth, and so Gin did nothing that would challenge that perception, because that was what Aizen wanted.

The only person who truly trusted him was Rangiku, and only around his childhood friend could Gin relax. Between his company duties and her classes, he couldn't see her often, but the brief moments of relative peace that they shared together were worth it. Although Rukongai had practically been a living hell, if there was anything that he missed about it, it was the way they had created their own universe together with just the two of them. He didn't resent her or her new friends, though: she'd always been more sociable than him, and he was glad that her world was being filled with color and laughter. But sometimes, he felt like her complaints and teasing were the only thing keeping him sane as his own world sank into the shadows.

In retrospect, though, he'd still been too naive. He'd never actively tried to hide their relationship from his fukutaichou, knowing that it would be a futile effort. Aizen watched the third seat too closely, clearly still cautious despite their shared complicity.  And even if he hadn't, he was clever enough to notice if Gin was hiding something from him and persistent enough to figure out what it was. So long as Rangiku didn't get in the way of his plans, she wasn't worth his notice… or so Gin believed.

Several years later, Gin stepped silently into Aizen's office, his usual smile affixed to his face as he greeted the other man. 

"Ya called fer me, Aizen-fukutaichou?"

"Ah, Gin. I was hoping to get your opinion on something. Please, sit."

Obediently, Gin lowered himself onto the cushion that Aizen indicated, puzzled. In all the time that they'd worked together, Aizen had never sincerely asked for his opinion on anything, not since the night he'd killed the former third seat. Would it be another test, or was it a sign that he was beginning to earn Aizen's trust?

He accepted the document that the older man offered to him, opening it to reveal Rangiku's Academy report. Carefully, he read through it before looking back up, with his expression as noncommittal as ever.

"So whatcha wanna ask, then?"

"I was thinking about inviting her to join the Fifth Company. The taichou is rather ambivalent about her, but she's your friend, right? I wouldn't mind putting in a word for your sake, since you've been so helpful to us."

A chill crept into Gin's bones as he shrugged, acutely aware of the fukutaichou's steady gaze under the lightness of his words. He'd expected that Aizen would be aware of his friendship, but this possibility had never occurred to him. He didn't want Rangiku anywhere near Aizen, not only because of what had happened in the past, but also since it seemed just as likely that she'd end up as yet another casualty of the man's charisma. Even with the experiments, she'd be safer elsewhere. Carefully, he considered his words before he spoke. 

"Nah, ya don't need t' do that. You saw her report, too. She ain't anything more than an average shinigami, so she wouldn't be able t' help ya much. I 'preciate ya thinkin' 'bout me, but she'd just get in the way here. It ain't like I can't see her if she's in a diff'rent company."

Aizen nodded, as kind and understanding as ever, though his eyes never left Gin's face.

"She's a fairly attractive woman, though, isn't she? Still a bit young, but she's got promise. Are you seeing her romantically?"

At that, Gin's smile widened slightly, making him even more inscrutable than usual, even as he shook his head. 

"We ain't like that, Aizen-fukutaichou. We were just friends, growin' up in Rukongai. 'sides, her other friends don't seem t' like me much. She probably doesn't even really need me anymore."

"And that doesn't upset you?"

"Would ya like it to?" Though the words sounded like a challenge, Gin's tone was as casual as always. The contrast seemed to surprise a chuckle out of the other man, though he caught himself quickly, holding out a hand. Obediently, Gin moved to return the report, only to be startled himself when Aizen grabbed his wrist, tugging him closer so he was half-sprawled over the desk. The smile slipped from his face, and his eyes slitted open slightly, revealing a flash of blue in his otherwise pale complexion. Bemused, he watched with wary caution as Aizen's free hand moved deliberately toward his face, tucking under his chin to tilt his face up.

"Your eyes are quite beautiful, Gin. It's a pity that I don't get to see them more often." Though Gin had tensed, he didn't resist as those slender fingers drifted closer to his eyes, tugging his lids wider and applying a gentle, steady pressure. "But I also feel jealous when I think that others might also see them. I'd like to take them out and keep them locked away, just for myself. What do you think about that, Gin?"

Slowly, the smile returned to Gin's face as he relaxed despite Aizen's terrifying words. "If that's what ya think is best. Though I dunno if I could be as good as Tousen-san."

For a long moment, the threatening pressure remained, and then Aizen released Gin, allowing the younger man to return to his seat and smooth down his robes.

"It truly would be a pity to lose your skills," Aizen agreed. Then, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened at all, he continued, "You're certain, then, that you don't want me to invite Matsumoto-kun to our division?"

"Prob'ly best that way. But thanks fer lookin' out fer me," Gin answered with an empty smile. Aizen nodded a dismissal, so Gin got up and left, making his way back to his rooms. Only once he had closed the door behind him did he collapse in a flood of relief.

He wasn't sure how much of his words Aizen had believed, but Rangiku would be safe. At least from their superficial conversation, the fukutaichou wouldn't extend that proposed invitation. His hand trembled slightly as it reached up to touch his eye, as though making certain it was still there. If Aizen had tried to rip them out, Gin would have let him, but that didn't make the prospect of blindness any less terrifying. He also couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed something, in those long moments. He hadn't failed the test… but he hadn't quite passed it, either.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

First Strike

One last mini-fic before it’s back to work for me. Inspired by something @cecret-with-c said months ago about if Chris revealing himself had been more intense. It’s been a while since I wrote some whump as well.

What if Chris had done more than punch Eleanor in the face? (Sort of a sequel to Let Me In).

Once again, Michael is grateful that he was given a human suit with such long legs to help him sprint in such far strides. He’s had to do more running than he ever expected to do in the past couple of years and the only time he was ever ‘caught’ was when he willingly gave himself up, not that he counts that time as a loss.

He races across the town, ignoring the heads of the Janet babies who turn in his direction out of vague, programmed curiosity, making his way towards the most dull-looking beige bungalow on the corner. It’s the house of the grandmother no kid ever wanted to visit because all she did was sit in her armchair and forbid laughter while she ranted about the noisy ‘illegals’ living next door.

The door is closed. From the outside, there’s no obvious sign of distress. 

And of course, every resident’s home is made to be sound-proof in the interest of privacy (a feature Tahani pushed on when Janet revealed the ‘surveillance’ feature of Michael’s previous experiment. They weren’t happy about that). It explains why the others are all going about town as normal despite being close enough to hear any sort of ruckus.

He braces himself before rushing forward, finding the door unlocked as he turns the handle.

“Eleanor?” He calls, immediately. 

What awaits him inside is as bad as he predicted, furniture turned aside, a few smashed vases and torn, hideous flowery wallpaper. But at least nothing is on fire. Michael feels that’s always a plus to be counted in most situations.

He stumbles in, almost tripping over the leg of an upturned side-table. 

“Shirt...Eleanor?!” Michael tries again, looking down the hall, the house seeming like a small bull just charged through the place.

“I’m here.”

He follows the dejected voice to the living room, finding her sat on the one half that remains of broken sofa. The tiny bit of relief he feels at first to see her in once piece shatters when she raises her head up from her hands.

An uneven pattern of swollen bruises decorate her face, tearful eyes shining between the puffy lids, blood still dripping from a cut on her lip and to the side of her left eyebrow. There’s marks on her throat, her hands and where her jacket has been torn on her arm as well.

One would think Michael had seen enough beaten up humans in his existence for it to no longer affect him, but the sight of Eleanor in this state cuts deep.

“Shirt...”

She braves the smallest smile; “You should see the other guy.” She then winces, possibly regretting speaking.

“Linda?!” He still can’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense!

He’d been leaving his office to head over to Tahani’s when he’d bumped into a furious Janet, frog-marching a pissed off looking Linda in her grip. Before Michael could ask what the fork she was doing, Janet simply ordered him to get over to Linda’s house, for no other reason than ‘Eleanor is there’. He didn’t need more than that.

It was only after he’d left he smelled the blood on Linda’s hands. Eleanor’s blood. The same that is sprinkled around the room in its destruction and still leaking from her fresh wounds.

“Turns out Linda’s not as boring as we thought.” Eleanor scoffs, raising one of her blackened hands and cringing in further pain; “Fork...”

He puts aside the issue of Linda for a moment as he goes to kneel in front of her.

“Here...” He gently takes her wrists, cradling what looks to be an almost crushed set of fingers, delicately; “It’s okay...”

He snaps his fingers.

Eleanor hisses again, in discomfort more than pain this time, as the bones reset and fuse, her cuts seal up and the bruising settles down, hopefully taking the pain away with it. She lets out a deep sigh, now simply looking pained with exhaustion. 

“Thanks, bud...” 

He stays kneeling before her, eyes full of concern.

“What happened?” He asks, carefully; “Why didn’t Janet do that?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “Y’know what? It’s crazy. I don’t even remember...I just came here, wanting to try again with Linda, see if I could have a talk and understand her...For a few minutes she was just quiet, sitting and sucking on her mints while I did all the talking...And then out of nowhere...she got up and...”

She clenches her fingers on her lap, clenching her jaw to the point Michael hears her teeth grind.

“Take your time.” He tells her; “What did she do?”

“Not she...He.” Eleanor smirks again, annoyed; “Suddenly Linda was speaking in a guy’s voice...Calling me an annoying little bench, raging at me about how he got so sick of having to ‘play nice’ around me, and put up with me, when all he wanted to do whenever I opened my mouth was...Well. You saw for yourself.”

Michael takes a breath. He saw the result. He dreads to imagine what actions the clearly-not-human took to leave Eleanor looking like that.

“I just kinda blacked out, I guess. At first it was almost funny...this little old woman picking her chair up and throwing it at the radio, that was kinda neat. Then he started throwing things at me and I wasn’t ready to get out the way. And then, when I tried to call for Janet...his hands were on me and...” 

It might be more terrifying than the scene he walked in on, to see Eleanor Shellstrop this shaken and struggling to form a sentence. 

He flips the coffee table back upright and slides it close so he can sit and take Eleanor’s healed hands in his. He cages them safely in his own, rubbing them warm.

She laughs again, tears spilling; “Fork, Michael....I dunno what’s wrong with me!”

“You just took ten rounds from a demon, no one is going to judge you for not being yourself.” At least, that’s what he’s assuming. If Linda isn’t a human then angel is also very improbable, which leaves one last option. 

“I’ve dealt with ashholes on Earth trying to cup a feel when I wasn’t interested and I had no trouble handling myself or knowing how to get help. But this...” She trembles in his grip; “I was so....frozen. Like I couldn’t do anything! It was only when I thought he was gonna throw me through the window, I managed to call for Janet. She did offer to fix...” Eleanor gestures to her face; “But I just told her to get that motherforker out and somewhere secure...And I asked for you.”

She...wanted him? That causes a selfish little ball of light to glow inside of him, that he was the first one she wanted, out of the others. 

Then he reminds himself that he’s the only one out of them with magic to heal.

“You said this guy talked about having to put up with you before?”

She nods; “Yeah, I can’t remember if he was in those memories I saw...He might have been at that bar in Canada, I don’t remember. Might be the concussion.”

“Ah...I think I know who Linda might be underneath. I...put you with a lot of demons who posed as your fake soul mate and...one of them kept coming to me with a lot of complaints by the end because he was sick of it. It was only because he had the most handsome skin suit out of them all, he claimed I was being objectifying.” Michael waves off that bit; “His name was Chris.”

If he was working for Shawn to infiltrate them, posing as one of the humans, did he agree to it purely for the chance to finally get to physically hurt Eleanor like he always begged Michael permission for? He feels sick at the idea that he contributed to this in a way. 

“Well I’m glad Chrissy got it out of his system, now I know how guys really feel after having to put up with me.” Eleanor lightly jokes.

“No guy who’s been close to you would ever dream of hurting you like this.” He says that, earnestly.

Even before he changed sides, no matter how crazy Eleanor drove him, no matter how often she foiled his designs, he never wished physical hurt on her. Just to make her miserable by pranks and mind games. Nothing like this.

This was the last thing he ever wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Eleanor.” He brings one of her hands to his lips, “This is my fault.”

“No it’s not, dude.” She says, tired; “I should’ve waited for you to be done at Tahani’s before we checked on Linda...We agreed to do these things together...”

Damn, will he and Janet have to chaperone all the humans now until this is over, in case something else threatens them?

“I’m just pissed that we didn’t see through Linda’s whole boring schtick. Tahani even said something was up with her but I ignored it.” She groans and rubs her head.

“Does it still hurt?” Michael frowns. It shouldn’t do, if he did it right.

Eleanor shakes her head; “No...Not from the fight, just...all of this. I was so sure I could handle it but this...I wasn’t ready for...”

“Blame me. You wouldn’t be in this position if I hadn’t had that break down at the start.” Michael tells her, feeling twisted with guilt.

“You didn’t make me choose to take this on, Michael. Stop it. None of this is on you...I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Of course.” He gets to his feet and offers her his hand; “C’mon. I think we better call Shawn and tell him we’ve got something of his. And the Judge too while we’re at it.”

Eleanor looks up at him and gives a smile, then a nod, before taking his hand and standing up.

They’re half-way to the door when there’s a sudden tug on his hand.

Michael turns, frowning, seeing Eleanor standing motionless behind him. Her fingers are gripping his with such ferocity, his fingers would probably crunch if he was human, while her shoulders tremble, the smallest wince of panic on her face.

“What is it?” 

Her bottom lip wobbles, her eyes on the ajar pink door; “I...I dunno, I just...I d-don’t wanna go there yet.”

“Eleanor, he’s restrained. Janet’s way stronger than any demon, remember? And I wouldn’t let him touch you agai-.”

“I know that, dude, all right?!” She raises her volume, frustrated; “I don’t need your forking rational argument - I know that he’s all chained up and I’m safe and, whatever, because I’m a sexy badash who doesn’t get scared of anything so, fork you, this isn’t because I’m scared because I’m not! I’m fine! You’re the one who’s scared, I’m just protecting you, got it?! So lay the fork-.”

Once Michael has pulled her into his arms, she shuts up. It’s hard for her to keep babbling once her face is smothered into his chest. He waits for the resistance, to be shoved back, but nothing comes. Instead she stills, before her knees buckle, and her arms slip around his middle to cling to him. He places one hand on her neck and the other on the top of her head, stroking gently.

He just holds her tight for a moment, closing his eyes to stop his senses from seeing all the clear signs in the mess around them of what that deckhead did to her. How there’s a dent on the wall from where she was clearly thrown, or how that particular drop of blood stained on the carpet must have come from a blow to her mouth.

“Michael...Bit too tight, bud, you just fixed these ribs...” Eleanor sniffs against him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He loosens a little, still keeping her close, for as long as she clings to him. He pulls back after another minute to touch her face, searching for those green-blue eyes; “Listen. I know you, remember? No one’s aware of what a badash bench you are more than me, okay? But I also know you’re still human...And humans break, that’s what you guys do, it’s what makes you so amazing. That you can be so spunky even when you’re so stupidly fragile.”

And the more vulnerable they are, such as the small woman in his arms, the more courage they seem to hold to compensate. 

“I know how often you’ve wanted to break down when things got tough but you always had to put up a front to save face. You don’t have to do that with me, remember?” He whispers, softly, his thumb brushing a tear from her face; “You were there for me when I collapsed like a Tahani being told she has to fly economy. You trust me to be still be there for you if you do the same right?”

She sniffs again, nodding.

“It’s not just you, bud. God can’t be seen weeping, can she?” She japes.

With a wave of his hand, the blinds close and the door shuts.

“God can have some privacy. You’ve earned it.” Michael smiles at her and brings her back in again, letting her curl into him, one of her hands grabbing at his jacket; “Take as long as you need. I’m sure Janet can have fun with Chris while he waits for us. Make him sweat. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Perhaps he’ll ask Janet to have some ‘time alone’ in a quiet room with Chris, even after they’ve called Shawn and the Judge. He might not be Chris’ boss anymore but he still feels the need to offer some ‘managerial feedback’. Which is a euphemism, by the way, he plans on eviscerating the forknut.

He hears the smallest hum.

“Thanks, bud. I dunno what I’d do without you.” Eleanor whispers, still shaky, clinging onto him; “We should’ve known they’d be too dumb to use something like a Michael-suit and instead they pull a stunt like this that gives them away. Forking idiots.”

He chuckles with her, resting his cheek on her head as he keeps her close.

“They’re no match for us. Say it with me...We’ve got this.”

“That’s my line.”

“Our line.” He jostles her a little, delighted by the sound of her laughter, more so when she smiles up at him, that fire slowly starting to ignite in her eyes again. 

Michael moves a strand of her hair away before planting a kiss on her forehead. Only fair, as she kissed his cheek last time, and it had felt...oddly pleasant. 

She sighs, “Fine. We’ve got this.”

He looks down at her, feeling ready to burst with admiration. There she is. Eleanor Shellstrop. Holding it together after taking a pummelling from an immortal being. 

Unstoppable, as always. 

Better luck next time, Shawn, old pal. But try to lay a finger his humans again and there will be Here to pay.

[hqxy]

Can I get a number 3 for wheelzier?

“You’re not going out in that outfit.” Richie raised his head as Mike walked past their bed. “Are you?”

Mike just rolled his eyes. “It’s gym clothes. Go back to sleep!”

“What time is it?” Richie slurred his words, rubbing his eyes. He heard Mike chuckle, but he could only stare at the curve of his ass while he leaned down to grab his shoes from the wardrobe. “ ‘So weird to keep shoes in the wardrobe, babe.”

Mike huffed. “It’s not weird. Where else am I supposed to keep them?”

“By the door where l keep mine.”

“You’re a baby.” Mike turned back to him with a sly little smile. “Go back to sleep. It’s seven in the morning.”

“Still dark out.” Richie pointed out, adjusting himself to a sitting position. It was still a little cold, and Mike was going out in - what? those tight black spandex pants? “That’s a crop top,” It came out as more of a question than a remark at all, and Mike gave Richie a clipped smile.

He walked over the bed, sitting by Richie’s feet. “You don’t like it?”

Richie closed his eyes as he answered. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how much I like it.” He was tired.

But he still peaked at Mike with one of his eyes. He looked hot. Richie could barely see past the blurriness in his eyes - but he realized Mike’s own still sported the shadow of last night’s eyeliner, and his naturally pink lips made him look all the more… ethereal. “You look so good. What I’d give to look at you with my glasses on right now.”

“They’re right there on your side of the nightstand.” Mike deadpanned.

“But I’m sleeping,” Richie croaked.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you.” Mike spoke softly, putting his hand over Richie’s covered feet. “Just thought I’d get this over with before you woke up. The gym is nicer during the early hours too. I wanted to enjoy your day off together with nothing holding me back.”

“All right fuck it.” Richie yawned, reaching for his glasses. “I’m up.”

“Baby,” Mike began. But Richie simply rubbed at his eyes, feeling like there was sand in them. Man, he needed a few drops of saltwater. “It’s okay, you’ve got time to sleep.”

He ignored the discomfort for a bit, knowing soon enough that would be taken care of. He fixed his eyes on Mike instead, putting his glasses on. “Fuck,” Richie breathed.

Mike blushed under his gaze. That made Richie perk up even more, analyzing Mike closely. Was Mike trying to get that reaction from him all along?

“Is it too much to actually go out in?” Mike asked quietly, looking down at the sliver of abdomen he had showing.

“Fuck, I mean - No?” Richie swallowed. “But - holy fuck. You look so sexy, baby.”

“It’s for you.” Mike said softly. He hesitated to make eye contact with Richie, blushing even harder. “I wanted to wake you up wearing it when I got back.”

“You did wake me up wearing it.” Richie smiled. “Fuck, baby.” He added then, feeling his cock twitch with interest. “I’ll need to see Mike - the other Mike, my doctor. Serious case of blue balls when you leave.”

Mike giggled, draping himself over Richie and kissing him. Richie leaned back against the pillow and kissed him back, only slightly surprised by the way he got a mouthful of Mike’s tongue before their lips even sealed together properly.

He held Mike’s hips with his hands, pulling them against him in a franctic motion. Mike obliged him, rocking against Richie and making the friction between them absolutely tantalizing - even through the thick barrier of Richie’s comforter.

“How long do you have?” Richie asked in between kisses.

Mike let out a husky little moan. “Enough time.”

He parted away from Richie at that, unceremoniously pulling his comforter down and to the side of the bed.

He fixed Richie a look, staring into his eyes behind his hooded lids as he began to strip away Richie’s pajama pants.

Unsurprisingly, Richie wore nothing underneath them. He swallowed when his cock came to rest at his stomach with a pop, the noise Mike let out staring at it making Richie’s thin arm hairs stand on end. “Jesus, you’re ravenous.”

Mike just licked his lips wickedly in response, enveloping the head of Richie’s cock with them in no time. Mike was eager in a way Richie could only have dreamt of before knowing him in that intimate, affectionate way.

He had never thought Mike was as eager as him in bed, if not more. That combined energy resulted in a few months of passionate complaints from their friends.

They made them promise they would keep it in their pants at least during the first hour of the movie - then they broke their promises a little too often.

Mike swirled his tongue as he bobbed up and down, looking up at Richie with the filthiest sex glare Richie had ever seen. “Fuck, baby,” Richie moaned, his hand coming down to pet Mike’s thick raven waves.

Mike smiled sheepishly around his cock, swallowing around Richie every time he went low enough to choke on him.

Mike was making the filthiest little sounds as saliva began to drip down the length of Richie’s erection, and he used his hand to his advantage when he began to stroke the inches of Richie he couldn’t fit in his mouth - decently slicked up with Mike’s spit.

“Fuck, angel… Look at how pretty you look, so sweet on daddy’s cock.” Richie breathed.

Mike looked up into his eyes, moaning loudly around him. Oh.

“You like that, don’t you? You like sucking daddy’s cock with that cute eyeliner on, because you’re my pretty little princess.”

Mike’s eyes rolled back at Richie’s words, and he was back to working his mouth on Richie’s cock eagerly after that, sloppy little sounds getting louder and louder as he sucked at him.

“You’ll make daddy cum,” Richie stated airily, his fingers buried in Mike’s hair.

Mike whined around him.

“Do you want daddy to cum down your throat, babylove?”

Mike looked up at him, nodding, swirling his tongue at Richie’s tip with desperation. He let Richie guide him back down by his hand on his hair, bobbing up and down a few more times until Richie was spilling into his mouth, his cock throbbing inside him.

Richie had thrown his head back, keeping Mike still on his cock as he felt him swallow around him.

Mike pulled away with a filthy sound when Richie let go of his hair, gasping for air.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and Richie looked down at him.

“Baby that was so fucking good… C’here let me take care of you.” Richie reached down for him, pulling Mike up by his shoulders.

“It’s okay, I-“ Richie cut him off with a kiss, licking into Mike’s mouth and making him see stars from how filthy and good kissing Richie after a blowjob felt like. Still, he muttered in between kisses. “I came in my underwear.”

Richie moaned at that, pulling back just enough to stare at Mike. He looked amazing, with his swollen lips from kissing and sucking Richie’s cock, his eyelashes still so long with last night’s mascara. “Aren’t you a sweet little princess?” Richie traced Mike’s bottom lip with his finger.

Mike’s eyebrows scrunched up at that, slotting his hips against Richie’s. He nodded, clinging to him.

“I love you. You’re so gorgeous, angel. So lucky you’re mine.” Richie peppered him with praises, entranced by the effect they had on Mike.

He was in for a good fucking morning.

And he loved this boy with everything he had in him.