#pardon me as I make my engagement my whole personality for the next few months

[springtime-creations]

I don't care what the points are for art fight. On the last day of the event I got engaged. I won.

[mrskodzuken]

Spicy Chocolate

pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x f!reader

genre: smut (with fluff)

wc: 2.0k

tw/cw: 18+ MDNI, characters are AGED UP, porn with plot (cliffhanger* in the end), established relationship (Yuta and reader are married, househusband!Yuta), food play, use of pet names, slight dacryphilia (Yuta cries), m!receiving (oral, overstimming, edging); let me know if I missed something 🙇🏻‍♀️

a/n: for two of my beloved Yuta simps @mitsuyaya and @danibby ♥️ the househusband!Yuta agenda that Yumi fed me months ago lives rent-free again in my mind, thanks to @cirigiri’s Leaked Files collab (file no.10 - “Househusband makes a mess in the kitchen”). Thank you @tetsukentona @portfolio-of-dreams (another fellow Yuta simp) for beta reading this ilysfm mwah mwah tsup tsup ♥️ tagging @hanayanetwork

*will continue writing this in another post some other time (burnt out 💔), since there are points that still need to be tackled (especially the ✨thing✨ the reader wants to show to Yuta).

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It’s a nice Sunday afternoon, and a sweet and delicious aroma is wafting from inside the kitchen. A plate of fresh whole strawberries is placed on the table as Yuta gently stirs some melted chocolate in a saucepan over the stove, humming. You should be back around this time after meeting with Maki at the nearby coffee shop, he muses, blushing a little thinking about his lovely wife.

It still feels like yesterday, as Yuta glances at the cool silver band that’s sitting around his ring finger for six months now. A few years ago, Yuta met you through Maki, your childhood friend, who (together with Panda and Toge) then deliberately set the two of you up on a date. You two are compatible with each other: same interests, similar personalities, likes, dislikes… and soon after, you two become a couple and have dated ever since. Eight months later, he proposed to you in front of his and your friends and families while celebrating your birthday; the engagement lasted for two months, and the wedding that came after was very simple and intimate yet a memorable one for you and him.

“Yuta, I’m home~”

“Y/N, welcome home!” Your husband greets you with a smile in the entryway, wiping his hands dry with a table towel. “How’s your ‘date’ with Maki-san? Is she still as grumpy as ever?”

“What do you mean ‘date’? Silly Yuta~” You chuckle, placing your ankle boots properly before wearing house slippers. “And I’ll tell Maki you said that—“

What you see next as you turn around to face him makes your face go warm and your heart race fast. You take a deep breath while you glance at Yuta wearing your cute pink frilly apron that you’d ordered online. Your throat suddenly went dry.

“Cute…”

“Pardon?”

“T-That apron looks good on you, pretty boy. You’re so cute wearing my apron,” you say coolly, yet you can’t keep your cheeks from blushing; your hands start shaking also.

Yuta looks down, embarrassed and fidgety, and mumbles, “Please don’t say that—I-I’m a guy… you’re making me feel embarrassed, stop it!”

You slowly walk up towards Yuta, causing him to stumble a bit backwards and lean on the wall. “Why should you feel embarrassed, just ‘cause you’re a guy?” you whine, a pout forming on your lips, pinning him on the spot. “Do you… not like me telling you you’re cute?” You tilt your head sideways, looking at him.

Yuta’s heart throbs at the adorable sight that is you. He’s not the one you should be saying ‘cute’, but the other way around! He is a very lucky man to have a wonderful and adorable person like you as his wife, and he’s very thankful for that.

“I like it,” he whispers, locking eyes with you, as he caresses your cheek. Your husband then slowly leans down to you, his lips inches away from yours. “I really do. But I… should be the one saying that.”

You close your eyes, feeling his soft chapped lips meshed into yours, your tongues brushing and playing around each other. He tastes sweet, like chocolate, you think as you push yourself closer to him and tilt your head a bit, deepening the kiss.

A string of saliva connects between your lips, the two of you flushed red and breathing heavily. Yuta looks at you like a lovesick guy and smiles. “You’re so cute like this, Y/N. And I love that about you…” He wraps his arms around you and cuddles, gently stroking your hair with his hand. “I could get through the day just by hugging you, you know?”

“Yuta…!” Your cheeks feel hot after hearing that, so you bury your head into his shoulder, nuzzling your face at the crook of his neck. You don’t mean to but catch a whiff of chocolate through his clothes, the smell making you feel intoxicated as if you’ve drank alcohol. “You smell of chocolates, Yuu…,” you mumble, taking another sniff of the sweet aroma on his neck, your hot breath slightly tickling him. “So sweet… mm…”

He shudders, feeling something wet as you lick a spot. “Ah, t-that? Well, Panda-san and Inumaki-san came in for a short visit earlier and b-brought some strawberries while you’re—fuck!—while you’re out visiting Maki-sa—ngh!” Yuta feels your dainty hands brushing against his pants to and fro, gradually stimulating his bulging cock and prompting him to buckle his hips a bit, wanting for more friction. “Y-Y/N… stop…,” he bites his bottom lip, stifling a moan.

You continue on feeling him and licking stripes on his neck, not wanting to stop. His delicious taste, his sweet smell… all of Okkotsu Yuta is intoxicating. You are the only one who can make him go putty under your touch, as much as you are with him. A perfect match…

You slide a hand under his shirt and caress his strong built chest, lightly touching a nipple; Yuta’s body twitches at your touch. So sensitive…

“Ah… f-fuck, Y/N, please…” He thinks his legs feel as if they have turned to jelly, panting as your hands work quickly on him. “S-stop… it… ngh…”

You lick another stripe on his collarbone before sucking it hard. “Hm? You say something?” you hum, palming his now-tightening balls through his pants. He’s close… I can feel it through my hands.

“Y-Y/N… feels… feels so good—ah!” Yuta leans his head up on the wall, moaning and panting so lewdly. He places a hand on your shoulder for support and grips it a bit harder.

You look at him, smiling so deviously seeing his flustered sexy face. “Oh my darling Yuta… you should look at your pretty face,” you whisper in a sweet, hushed tone. “So erotic just from teasing and touching you.” You hover your lips close to his ear and lick his earlobe. “A-are you close?”

“So… close! I-if you continue on touching me any further, I might…cu-cum—”

“Okay~” You stop, retracting and raising your hands up away from him, before he could cum.

“—huh? W-what…” Yuta staggers a bit, his twitching thighs clenching hard. “Y/N, why—I’m so close to cum…!” He whines, tears start trickling down his cheeks. “Please let me cum…” He lets out a sniffle, which makes your heart feel a pang of sadness; you feel terrible for not letting him cum.

“I’m sorry, love…” You wipe his tears away with your thumb, and place a gentle kiss on his forehead before resting it on your own. “We can continue this later, okay? Please endure it for a little bit, like a good boy, and refrain your hands from touching it.” You smile genuinely at your husband, helping him stand up on his feet. “I-I’ll let you cum inside me as a reward, plus I have something to show you later… something that we can both enjoy,” you whisper into his ear, hot breath blowing through.

A sickly sweet grin forms on Yuta’s lips, thoughts of his hot white load dripping down your soft and sexy thighs making him shudder with delight. Something that we can both enjoy, huh… I wonder what that something is, he thinks as you both walk towards the kitchen, the bowl of strawberries and chocolate fondue waiting on the table.

– – – –

“Mmnh~”

Yuta’s cock throbs hearing your sweet moans while the two of you are enjoying your afternoon snack in the kitchen. He casts a subtle glance at you, who is sitting near him, licking chocolate off the strawberry you are currently eating like a lollipop, before looking away… flushed red from embarrassment. He’s dying to touch himself, to relieve the pent-up feeling leaking between his legs. You, on the other hand, know that he’s itching to jerk himself off, sending you surreptitious glances and silently begging you to let him cum; you enjoy teasing him though, given your husband’s current predicament, and love seeing his pretty face looking sexy and frustrated.

“Y/N…” your husband mewls, his head resting on the table facing you, his voice cracked and laced with want. “I wanna cum, please…? Let me cum…”

You look up at the wall clock hanging above the kitchen door. 20 minutes have passed, that should be enough for him to show some self-constraint. You dip the strawberry in chocolate sauce again and glide it through your open lips, lustful eyes looking at Yuta. “Do you really want to cum, pretty boy?” you ask, your hand traveling through his pants and forming small circles around his erection with your finger.

He hisses, quickly grabbing your wrist, and buckles up his hips in response. “I-I do, Y/N, please! Don’t… tease me—mnff!” You stuff the whole strawberry into his mouth, muffling his pleas; Yuta can taste a mixture of your saliva, strawberries and chocolate as you start to thrust it in and out of his lips.

You get a glimpse of drool seeping at the corner of his mouth as you continue on thrusting, and smile. “My naughty husband, his pretty mouth getting fucked on with a strawberry… how erotic~” you whisper breathily in his ear, pulling out the strawberry from his mouth with a loud pop! before finally popping into your own mouth. You chew it slowly, your hand cupping Yuta’s cheek, before feeding it to him with your lips in a deep kiss.

“You taste so sweet, like strawberries,” you say as you lick your lips clean after the kiss; your other hand, meanwhile, unties the knot on his pants before slowly lowering the waistband.

“Ah!” Yuta’s cock—fully-erect, its head an angry red-colored and leaking with pre-cum—hits his torso as soon as you pull down his pants halfway over his thighs, some of the pre staining his shirt. You bend down slightly near it and gently blow air on its leaking tip, making him shudder hard and curse under his breath. “Fuck…! No… don’t… I-I might cum if you do that again…,” he cries, whimpering and panting heavily on his seat.

You lightly trace a prominent vein on his length, feigning innocence, before taking its whole girth with your hand and stroking it at a painfully slow pace. “Huh? Yuu~ what’s this? I thought you said earlier you wanna cum? You’re contradicting yourself, you know…?” You let the tip of your tongue out of your lips and hover it above the cock head while your eyes are on your husband, wriggling it down until it touches the slit.

“Y-Y/N… no, I’m cummiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing—! Ngh!!!!!” White ropes of cum spurt high from the head, smearing your face and Yuta’s shirt and pants. Some of the cum had splatter over your hair and the tiled kitchen floor.

Chuckling, you swipe your lips clean of cum as you glance at your husband panting heavily after he came, hiding his flushed face behind his arm, away from your lustful stare. His body is still twitching from the stimulation yet the cock’s standing up, raging for more. You smile.

“...ngh! Fuck—!” Yuta suddenly curses under his breath, his hips jolting upwards, as he feels the warmth of your mouth slowly engulfing him inside. He flails both his hands in front and brings them above your bobbing head, pushing you away from his overstimulated cock. “Y-Y/N, stop… it’s too much, I-I just came…!”

You swat his hands away from your head while you continue on giving him head, his whining pleas getting painfully louder and lewder, making your thighs press together to ease the growing wet ache on your core.

“I’m… c-cumming again…,” Yuta tells you breathily, accompanied by a few loud moans. “I’m… cum...ming—“

You quickly grab his whole length by the base, tightening your grip a bit. You pull your lips away from your husband’s cock with a loud pop! before releasing it from your grip. “Don’t cum on my mouth yet,” you say, earning a whine from Yuta again.

You shyly stand up and strip yourself of your skirt and panties, exposing your wetness in front of him. You then get up and carefully straddle yourself onto his lap, your hand guiding his cock near your hot entrance.

“Didn’t I promise you earlier that I let you cum inside me?”

Likes are okay, reblogs are nice, reposts and plagiarism stuff are frowned upon 🥰 | ALL WORKS BY MADKITTYBLOSSOM © 2022

[infernal-fire]

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k 

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you. 

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day. 

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway. 

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated. 

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

//

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep. 

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen. 

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word. 

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast. 

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered. 

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby. 

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name. 

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names. 

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer. 

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles. 

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.” 

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone. 

“You didn’t say my name.” 

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?” 

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team. 

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter. 

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward. 

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him. 

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised. 

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded. 

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with. 

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him. 

Or so you think. 

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye. 

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised. 

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow. 

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.” 

He tried to speak, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear. 

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question. 

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.” 

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly. 

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down. 

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up. 

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react. 

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle. 

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal. 

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck. 

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason. 

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now. 

At last, he snapped. 

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists. 

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them. 

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for. 

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision. 

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face. 

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself. 

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face. 

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

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[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love Is Not Forced ~ 33

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,730ish

Summary: King Steven makes a surprise visit to Alexandria.

Due to the needs of their kingdoms, Steven and Y/N were kept busy for another month after their surprise meeting. It hurt both of them, though they did try their best to write letters to each other as often as they could. It was late one night, in Alexandria, when a group of men on horses arrived at the castle.

“King Steven?” Captain Rhodes wondered, coming up to the group of horses. “I had not heard that you would be arriving. And so late.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” King Steven replied, jumping off of his horse. “I need to speak with King Anthony. It’s important.”

“Your Majesty, the King and Queen have gone to bed. Could the matter not wait until morning?”

“No it can’t, Captain. I need to speak with the King, now. The Queen is allowed to come if she wishes as well.”

“I will see what I can do. Sir Hogan will lead you to the throne room to wait.”

“Thank you.”

The anxious King followed the guard to the throne room. While he waited for the King and Queen, he paced around the room, clearly nervous.

“This better be good, Steve,” Tony’s voice boomed as he and the Queen, dressed in their robes, entered the throne room. “I don’t understand why you would show up in the middle of the night and insist that me and my wife be woken up.” The couple took their seats on their respective thrones.

“I’m sorry, Tony. But what I have to say couldn’t wait any longer. I don’t think my heart can take it…”

“Please, why don’t you just beat around the bush?”

“Tony,” the Queen scolded. “I’m sorry, Steven for my husbands behavior. He must’ve really needed his sleep. Please continue.”

“I have come seeking your permission—“

“What for?” Tony interrupted. The Queen hit his arm. “What? He’s not—“

“I wish to marry your daughter,” Steven said loudly enough to speak over his fellow King. “I wish to have your daughter’s hand in marriage. And, in order to do that, I need your permission. If I didn’t, I would have never let her leave Brooklyn… Tony, Pepper, I love your daughter. More than I ever thought possible. Y/N is the most beautiful woman, inside and outside. She is my world, and all I ever want to do is make her happy.”

Tony stayed silent, clearly mulling it over for a few long seconds before speaking. “How can I know that she’ll be safe with you? That you won’t harm her the way Hydra did?”

“Y/N will be save with me. Unfortunately, I have messed up with her before, but I have sworn to myself and her that I will never do anything like that again. I will make the same promise to you.”

“But will she be safe in Brooklyn?”

“Pardon?”

“She was taken by Loki while in your kingdom and he was able to almost kill her there as well. How do I know she will not die under your watch?”

“I have doubled the guards, and will assign a personal guard to her at all times. I have thought this through, Tony. And, you know me, I do not give my heart away lightly. That is why I haven’t gotten married yet.”

Tony stared Steven down as he got up out of his throne. He stalked towards his friend, scaring Steven. Tony’s face grew harder as he now was inches away from Steven. Suddenly, after a couple of seconds, the King started laughing, pulling his friend in for a hug.

“Welcome to the family!” King Anthony exclaimed. “I couldn’t have chosen a better fit for my daughter than you.” He pulled away, keeping a hand on Steven’s shoulder. “I just hope she says yes.”

“Me too,” Steven whispered. “Me too.”

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she was surprised to see that she had been allowed to sleep in. She glanced around the room to see that Wanda had already readied a dress for her to wear for the day. The Princess furrowed her brows as she sat up and slipped out of bed. She walked over to the dress, running her hand over one of the sleeves.

“Oh, Your Highness!” Wanda smiled as she entered the room. “You’re awake. I was just coming to get you.”

“What’s the special occasion, Wanda?” Y/N asked. “You only set a dress out for me when something’s going on. Is there something I have forgotten about?”

“No, Princess. Your Father just thought it would be nice for you to wear this new dress today.”

“Mhm…” Y/N hummed, unconvinced. She knew her Father well enough to know that there was always an angle.

“Also, lunch is being served out in the garden today. Which I must get you ready for.”

Y/N allowed Wanda to get her ready, silently questioning what was going on the whole time. Wanda sent her on her way, almost too excitedly. When she arrived to where lunch was set up, she was all alone. Similar to the night in Wakanda a month ago, there was a small table set for two in the middle of the open garden area.

“How is it that you never fail to take my breath away?” Steven’s voice came from behind her. She spun around to see him grinning widely at her, looking as handsome as ever.

“Steven!” She smiled, rushing towards him. He laughed as he picked her up and spun her around before bringing her in for a kiss. “You’re here!” She put her arms around his neck as his found her waist. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t really plan to, honestly. I just couldn’t be a part from you any longer.”

She pulled him in for another kiss. “I missed you, so much.”

“I can promise you that I missed you more.” He leaned down to peck her lips one last time before leading her to the table.

“Did you plan all this?”

“Yes.” Steven nodded.

“You’re such a romantic… how did I get so lucky?”

“I believe I’m the lucky one, my darling.”

As they began eating, Y/N couldn’t help but notice how shaky Steve was. He’d dropped his fork multiple times, and had failed to bring a glass to his mouth without spilling something. It finally was too much for Y/N to stay silent about.

“Steven, are you okay?” Y/N asked, looking at him with such care and worry that the King thought he’d melt right there.

“I’m fine, my darling,” he answered with a smile.

“Are you sure? You’ve been shaking quite a lot.”

“I guess….” Steven sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I do have something I need to say…”

Y/N reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. “You can tell me, Steven. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I’m being honest when I tell you that nothing is bothering me… My darling, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes, you’ve showed it and said it many of times. And I love you.” Steven let out a shaky breath before standing up and beginning to pace. “My dear, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m not meaning to, I’m so sorry.” He quickly knelt in front of the Princess, grabbing onto both her hands. He brought her hands up to his lips, holding a kiss to them. “I never want you to be scared of me. I know you have been before, and I won’t be able to apologize enough for my actions, but I never want you to feel that way again. And I never want you to be scared of anything else, without me by your side. I want to be your protector, your confidant, your person. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at the end of the day. I want to share my life with you, every last detail. I want to spend days with you in the villages and beaches of Brooklyn. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh, and I want to be the one to make you do that. I want to be the one to love you, Y/N, and to be loved by you. And I know that I’ve just listed all these wants, but I couldn’t find any over way to explain my feelings but that. Lastly, but certainly not the least on my list of wants, I want to know if you’ll have me as your husband. If you will allow me the privilege of being your husband.”

“Steven…” Y/N whispered, tearing up. “Yes,” she nodded, still speaking quietly. “There’s no one I’d rather call my husband then you.”

Steven’s hand cupped Y/N’s cheeks and brought her head down so that their lips met in a passionate kiss. When they parted, Y/N smiled.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Oh, my darling, I love you more.”

All of the kingdoms were ecstatic upon hearing the news of the engagement. King Anthony announced that a ball would be held in honor of the engagement in Alexandria before wedding plans could get started. The ball was going to be held a week after the engagement and, unfortunately, King Steven was needed in his own kingdom until then. Parting hurt them both.

“I will be back in a week, my darling,” Steven said, cupping her cheek and running his thumb over it. “I promise. Then we can start the wedding preparations.”

“Okay.” She was holding onto his shirt to keep him close to her. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Y/N walked Steven to his horse, grabbing onto his hand once he was on top.

“Be safe,” she said.

“Of course.” He gave her a confident smile. “I am nothing but careful… I will see you in a week.”

“See you in a week.”

The Princess let go of his hand and stepped away from the horse. She stood still in her spot until the King and his few guards were out of sight.

next chapter >

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[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 7- Good For You

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for alcoholism

Masterlist

The next month or so is pure bliss. With Hawks fully committed the weird moments of distance have stopped and with them so has the fighting. Not to say that it’s easy, task force work has meant some nights where you have to sleep in different cities or you work opposing shifts so you don’t have time to see each other. Even still, the two of you make it work.

Hawks is good for you. Your nightly routine used to almost always involve at least a few drinks. At first it was a way to keep nightmares away, then it was a way to cope with Monoma’s criticisms, and eventually it became a habit. Now your nightly routine has joint showers or bubble baths, music playing over speakers, gentle kisses and even gentler touches. One night, after you mentioned that your mother’s favorite song had been Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka, Hawks had insisted on putting it on and slow dancing around your kitchen. Mina had walked in on the two of you and absolutely swooned at the sight. You’d sworn her to secrecy but the minute she realized Bakugo also knew she’d begged Kirishima for Bakugo’s number so she could gush about how precious you and Hawks are. The explosive blonde doesn’t appreciate Mina’s excessive messaging but he puts up with it because in all honesty he and Midoriya are both proud of you. So proud, in fact, that they brought a cupcake with a little candle on it to work for you to celebrate one month of sobriety. You mostly certainly did not cry no matter what anyone else says.

You’re good for Hawks too. For once he’s appreciating life outside of work. He looks forward to the moment he can sneak into your apartment or you his, and just spend time together just the two of you. It’s to the point where he just doesn’t sleep the same when you’re not in his arms. He loves collecting little facts about you, like how you look first thing in the morning and what you like for breakfast and what playlist you listen to when you’re getting dressed. He wants to catalogue every tiny detail about you. He wonders if, under normal circumstances, you’d like PDA. If he didn’t work for Endeavor and you didn’t work for All Might would you love holding his hand or let him wrap his arm around you as you walked? With each passing day Hawks hates more and more the fact that he can’t announce his love for you to the world. He takes what can get and enjoys the stolen moments, but not being able to enjoy casual affection with you outside of the task force and the privacy of your own homes is difficult. Which is probably why, when he spots you walking towards All Might’s agency as he’s flying there himself, he decides another stolen moment can’t hurt.

He spots an alley a little ahead of you and decides to drop in for one last stolen moment before you shift into work mode. As he lands he sends a couple feathers to you to let you know where he is. You follow them into the alley and the moment you’re in view Hawks reaches out to grasp your forearm and pull you into him, pressing a kiss to your lips. You sink into it for a moment as Hawks wraps his arms around your waist but then you gently push him back. “What if someone sees?” you ask, looking back behind you out towards the street, but Hawks gently grasps your chin and turns you back to face him. “No one will see Dove,” he assures you before pressing you to the wall to kiss you again. You have to admit it’s hard to say no when he’s on you like this so you relax into it and let yourself just enjoy the affection and his gentle touches. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket and pull away to check it, finding a text from Midoriya letting you know he would be getting to the agency soon. “We should go,” you tell Hawks. “I don’t want to though,” he whines. You roll your eyes and push him back gently. “Come on, we’ve got hero work to do,” you laugh and Hawks relents, aware that you’re right and these stolen moments can’t last forever. But as he watches you walk out the alley he’s struck with the thought that he’s really sick of the secrecy. He’ll tell Endeavor after the meeting, he decides, and then tonight he’ll talk with you about it.

Tokoyami has finally confirmed that the group he’s been following were the culprits behind the attempted attack. He was able to link a few members to maintenance workers on shift the night in question and then cross checked their identities against security cam footage. It was still unclear who was running the whole operation so there was certainly more work to be done and you all would have to tread carefully in your surveillance from now on, but at least it’s clear who to watch. The meeting ends after all of you have hashed out a new surveillance schedule. As everyone gets ready to head out Hawks stops you. “Hey, I need to swing by Endeavor’s, but afterwards can we talk?” he asks. “Sure. Mina is having people over so I’ll meet you at your place,” you reply easily. “Great, I’ll catch you later,” Hawks says before leaving the room. He mentally prepares himself for whatever the fallout with Endeavor will be as he heads out the building and then takes off to the other side of town.

He didn’t expect to be nervous standing outside Endeavor’s office. He didn’t need Endeavor’s approval to date you and he was well aware that Endeavor was typically anything but rational when it came to All Might and all those associated. Still, a traitorously optimistic part of him wants his loyalty to Endeavor to be rewarded with acceptance of his love for you. He doesn’t need or want a new father, but he won’t deny the somewhat paternal nature of his relationship with his mentor. So maybe that’s why he has to take a deep breath to steel himself before he reaches up and knocks on Endeavor’s door.

“Come in,” comes the gruff voice from behind the door. Hawks walks in to find Endeavor sitting at his desk leafing through the day’s incident reports. “I need to talk to you about something important,” Hawks states, not bothering to beat around the bush. “What is it?” Endeavor asks, his eyes not straying from the papers in front of him. “I’m seeing someone,” Hawks says. “Your personal life is really none of my business Hawks.” “I’m glad you think that way because I’m seeing Artemis from All Might’s agency.” Endeavor freezes, placing the papers down and finally giving Hawks his attention. “I beg your pardon?” he asks. “I’m dating (y/n) (y/l/n), aka Artemis, of All Might’s agency,” Hawks repeats. “I put you on that task force to catch terrorists not flirt with our rivals.” “She and I met before the formation of the task force. Both of us being assigned to it was a coincidence.” “Really?” “Really.” “I don’t believe you Hawks.” “I can tell you the whole story if you want?” “Very well.”

And that’s exactly what Hawks does. He tells a, PG-13, version of you and his love story from that first fateful moment he talked to you at the gala to today, and all the beautiful moments in between. That optimistic part of him hopes that maybe, if Endeavor just understands how much he loves you, then maybe he won’t freak out over this. “You really love her don’t you? More than those other women?” Endeavor asks and Hawks feels a glimmer of hope as he replies “I do,” without a second thought. He doesn’t know how exactly he expected Endeavor to react. He certainly wasn’t expecting the reaction he got. “I thought you were smarter than this Hawks,” Endeavor sighs. “Excuse me?” Hawks asks. “I should have known a young, pretty upstart from his agency would pull something like this. Hawks she’s using you,” Endeavor insists. Hawks reels back as if struck and immediately he’s filled with an anger he’s never felt for his mentor before. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he warns icily. “If she’s so in love with you why all the secrecy?” Endeavor presses. “She got out of an engagement to Monoma recently and she can’t afford a bad headline,” Hawks defends. “Or is it that she doesn’t want the press to find out she’s using you. Awfully convenient isn’t it? That she didn’t leave her fiancé until after she had usurped him in the hero rankings.” “It isn’t like that, she didn’t even know who I was when we met.” “Don’t be so naive. How could she not know it was you Hawks? How many other heroes do you know with bright red wings.” Hawks doesn’t have a response for that. It’s a good point. He hates that it’s a good point. “I think she clocked you at the gala, then decided to further capitalize when she realized you were also on the task force. I know my son and his friends may have convinced you that the feud is only in my and All Might’s heads now, but I assure you it is alive and well amongst the vast majority of the heroes in our agencies. Lose the girl, Hawks,” Endeavor insists. “And if I say no?” Hawks asks, and he can feel his heart breaking because Endeavor has a point but he wants so desperately for him to be wrong. “If you say no then I’ll know you’re compromised and will have no choice but to pull you from the task force and reconsider your current position within this agency. I wouldn’t be able to trust you not to leak information to Artemis. Have I made myself clear?” “Crystal.” “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow Hawks.”

Hawks turns and leaves in a fog. Is it possible Endeavor is right? Has this been a game to you this whole time? He thought it himself that first day of the task force, the lower ranks of both agencies are still deeply entrenched in the rivalry. That had been your day-to-day up until what, a year ago? Of course you’d be more likely to believe in the rivalry and the stereotypes than Bakugo and Midoriya. And sure, it made sense that you would want to keep the relationship a secret when barely a day had passed since your broken engagement but it’s been months now. Surely if you care as deeply for him as he does you, you’d be eager to let the world know. Surely sufficient time has passed for the two of you to declare your love without you taking heat for it. Not to mention that Endeavor is right about Hawks’ identity not exactly being a secret in any scenario precisely because of his wings. There’s no way you couldn’t have known who he was, so why pretend as if you didn’t if not to take advantage of him? The questions turn over and over in Hawks’ head as he makes his way home. Even once there he paces his living room trying to find any way for all the pieces to fit together that doesn’t point to you using him. If things were different, Hawks may have played things out anyway, let himself cautiously believe in your love and wait for a betrayal. But Endeavor had made it clear that continuing his love affair with you would have dire consequences for his career and if you don’t love him all he’ll have left is his career.

There’s a knock on the door.

It’s you.

Of course it’s you....

He had almost forgotten he asked you to talk after he ran his errand at Endeavor’s agency. He was hoping for more time but he supposes now is as good a time as any to rip off the bandage. God his heart hurts. His heart hurts so goddamn much but he knows what he has to do.

He should’ve known better than to believe in fairytales.

He opens the door for you and immediately you can tell something’s wrong. “Hey I uh tried calling to double check if you were home yet but you weren’t picking up so I just swung by,” you explain sheepishly, the weird energy coming from Hawks making you anxious. “We need to talk,” Hawks says and the way he says it is ominous. You can feel your heart sinking and you hate it. What went wrong? Just this morning things were perfect. “I can sometimes treat the people that I love like jewelry,” Hawks admits, but he won’t look at you as he does so. “What does that mean Kei? What’s going on?” you ask and Hawks flinches when you reference his real name. He’s never done that before. You just want to understand what’s going on in that head of his but he’s blank in a way you haven’t seen in a long time. “I try them on and change my mind each day about them. I didn’t mean to try you on (y/n), it just happened,” he confesses. Your heart sinks even further.

It’s a lie. It’s a lie. It’s a lie. It was true of the previous women he’d dated, yes, but the reason he knows that now is precisely because it was always different with you. He knows your birthday and your mother’s favorite song. You know his past and real name. God he hates this but he always does it. He runs away when things are good because he’s scared of what will happen and he always has regrets afterwards. Not this time, he reminds himself, because you’ve been faking this whole time. And of course you were. He never understood the way you laid your eyes on him in ways that no one else ever could. Never understood how you could see past the broken pieces of him. “I don’t love you anymore,” he lies and each word is ash on his tongue and he needs to see your reaction now so he can know he did the right thing. He needs the final confirmation of your betrayal. But oh how wrong he is. When he finally looks at you his heart fractures far worse than if Endeavor were right, because you look how he feels right now. God you look absolutely crushed. But it’s not like he can take anything he’s said back now. It’s too late. It’s too late and so it seems he’s broken your heart and his own. His ignorance and faith in Endeavor have struck again. He failed to see or believe that you loved him as much as you claimed and now he’s torn you open.

“I’m sorry,” he says but he doesn’t elaborate on what he’s sorry for. He knows you’ll fill in the blanks incorrectly but it’s what he deserves for having such little faith in you. You’ll think he’s sorry for falling out of love with you but that’s not it at all. He’s sorry that he can’t believe that anybody ever really falls in love with him. He’s sorry he was so blind he couldn’t see that there was no way you could ever be faking what the two of you had. He didn’t mean to leave you and all of the things the two of you had behind, but it’s too late now to take it back. “Keigo please,” you beg and you sound small and broken in a way he has never once seen you. “Someone will love you (y/n), but someone isn’t me,” he says and it’s the final nail in a coffin of his own creation. “Fuck you Hawks,” is the last thing you spit out before storming out of his apartment. Someone will love you, he assures himself. It hurts now but someday, someone will love you that deserves you. That someone just isn’t him it seems. He keeps trying to convince himself of that as he numbly goes to his empty bed.

You don’t remember anything about the walk home. You move as if through a void, nothing else around you, nothing else matters. All that you can feel and perceive is the pain in your chest. How could he just fall out of love with you? You know his love was genuine, you know it from the bottom of your heart because he wasn’t lying about no one knowing his real name. He wasn’t lying about his past being a secret. Yet he had trusted you with all of it. So why was he abandoning you now? It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. All you know is that it fucking hurts. When you finally get to your apartment, you ignore Mina and her company and head straight for your kitchen, grabbing a bottle of liquor you can’t even bother to properly identify before heading to your room and locking yourself in. You sit down on your bed and the pain is still hollowing you out so you drink.

And you drink.

And you drink...

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp

[doctorreids]

folklore - spencer reid x reader

CHAPTER NINE - this is me trying 

previous chapter | next chapter 

word count: 2k

“i’ve been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting.”

SPENCER

He knew that the first case back would be difficult, to say the least. However, he hadn’t accounted for it being this hard.

He felt as though his brain is completely scrambled - so many theories flying around his head are blocked by the memory of the nights prior and he doesn’t know what to do.

He sat at the roundtable listening to Garcia rant off the details of the case - four young women murdered, all within one month of each other in Baltimore, and each worked in high-paid, male-dominated fields.  He knew that it was likely to be a male who was envious of their achievements, a husband scorned by his wife being paid more than him, or a man who believed women did not belong in the workplace. He didn’t say anything, kept his eyes on his file. He was too afraid that if he spoke the tears would fall again.

He was too afraid to look up and see her.

They usually sat beside each other on the plane but this time she tucked herself in beside Emily, he noticed how tense her shoulders were, how she never held anyone’s gaze, how she hadn’t looked at him at all. He knew that it was his fault but he refused to let himself dwell on that guilt. Instead, he turned the wheels in his brain towards the case. He forced out any memory of the prior nights and replaced them with the pictures and words in the case file in front of him.

By the time they'd landed he followed Rossi into the SUV and ignored the concerned looks of the man he came to know as a kind-of father figure as they walked into the local PD. Geographic profiling was the only thing he cared about, everything else faded away.

As he stared at the map before him, nothing seemed to fit. Each crime scene in a different area, no clear comfort zone for the UNSUB, and no clear answer for him. He was frustrated. He felt like he was rusted, like the gears in his brain that ran smoothly were jammed, unmoving, and broken.

He felt utterly useless and helpless.

His mistakes with the geographic profile were proof of that. He had hardly listened to anything that was going on with the case, trying instead to figure it out himself. But when he found himself standing in front of them all, he noticed his mistakes.

The first words she had spoken to him in days were pointing out his mistakes. The irony of the situation made him want to cry. So, he did what she did all those days ago. He left, letting the door swing past him, he ignored the soft call from JJ, and the confused looks from Emily. As soon as he felt the cool air of the small bathroom, he let the tears he had been keeping in fall for the first time.

“and maybe I don’t quite know what to say, but I’m here in your doorway. i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

“Spencer.”

It was Derek.

“Kid, I know you’re in there. I-“ his voice broke, “I just want to help you.”

He slid the lock out of the bathroom door and wiped his face before he opened it. He was met with the most concerned look on Derek’s face, mixed with confusion and sadness.

“What happened, kid?”

“We… we broke up.”

“Oh.” There wasn’t much he could say.

“I messed up, I know I did. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

There was a beat of stillness between them, Derek let out a soft sigh.

“Look at me kid.”

He looks up from his scuffed converse.

“I don’t know what happened between you both, I cannot tell you how to fix each individual problem. What I can tell you is that you love each other.”

“So I should let her go, is that what you’re saying?”

“God no, kid,” he recoiled at his absurd assumption, “I’m trying to tell you that you both love each other, you think she hung the stars in the sky. Sometimes people just get lost and need time away from each other to find each other again.”

He continued, “Love is a tricky thing. It’s full of compromises and disagreements, but you have to be able to push through that. I know how much you fear losing her, but so does she. Fight for her.”

“I-i… I don’t know how to. She’s the only person I know inside and out and I can’t figure out how to get her to stay.”

Derek pauses, unsure about his next few words.

“Are you sure you’re not the one running away, Spencer?”

Now it was his turn to be stunned by the absurdity of the question.

“Derek,” his voice was stern, “just tell me how to fix this”

Derek’s eyes soften once again at his desperation.

“There’s nothing that cannot be fixed if you just tell her how you feel, kid” With that, he turned and left him in the bathroom, alone.

His eyes found his own reflection, he examined the deep circles under his eyes, lined with red leading to his tear-stained cheeks. Splashing cold water on his face, he adjusted his tie and jacket. With one deep breath, he walked back out into the precinct.

No one was in the conference room, Hotch had left a note to say there was another victim. Then he noticed it.

The coffee cup sat beside his files, a small smiley face on it. It was from her. For the first time in days, he smiled.

Y/N

“they told me all my cases were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential and my words shoot to kill when I’m mad, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

She was rarely angry, her temper was typically calm and collected. She’d been scorned and hurt enough in the past, by friends and ex-partners, that if you hold onto anger it will only increase the pain you inflict on yourself.

The first case back with Spencer, she decided, was the exception to the rule she made herself.

She came into work as early as she could with the knowledge that Hotch would be in his office, grinding away at the endless mountains of paperwork that lay on each of their desks. She was brief when she told him that her relationship with Spencer ceased to exist. They were finished.

Hotch didn’t even try to hide his disbelief. If she was honest with herself, she could not believe she was uttering out loud that they were over.

The weekend, however, had given her time. Time to think about what had happened. She was conflicted; she wanted to hear him out but she also thought she would be able to predict what he would say. She couldn’t. She had no idea why he could not deal with her anymore, with their relationship. She wracked her brain to try and figure what was plaguing him.

She came up empty each time.

Despite her earnest wishes to fix things, he didn’t look at anyone. He didn’t even speak. He just sat there completely mute. That pissed her off.

She told herself she didn’t know why but, in reality, she did. She wanted him to say anything, didn’t even need to be an apology, all she wanted to hear was him rant off some facts about women in the workplace or the percentage of women who earn more than their husbands. But he didn’t.

It angered her that he just bottled up - that he wouldn’t even just carry on, do his damn job. But this was Spencer and she thought she knew him. The first case back, she thought, proved to her that she didn’t know him at all.

So she was snippy. Snide remarks here and there, pointing out that he had missed some locations on the geographic profile, getting coffee for everyone but him.

She regrets her sharp tongue at times but in some twisted way, her sharp words gave her power over him she didn’t have a few nights prior. The power to hurt him as much as he hurt her. She let the worst get ahead of her, she failed to notice the dejected looks on his face when she passed him by without a word. She tried her best to not profile him, to not profile the cracks in his voice when he spoke or the way the bags around his eyes were darker than usual.

“So, this is the UNSUBs comfort zone, so far we have four victims killed a month apart so there is no sign of escalation other than the violence of the crime.”

The map was wrong. He had messed each victim up and, like before, it pissed her off.

“Your profile is wrong.”

Those were the first words she spoke directly to him. The whole room went silent, waiting for whatever it was bubbling under the surface to erupt. She regretted them as soon as she said them.

“Pardon?” His voice was small, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard it at first.

“Victim four was found where you’ve placed victim two, therefore making your profile wrong. The locations are significant for the UNSUB, they form a pattern.” She pauses. “If you actually engaged with any of us you would know that.”

She knew it was cruel but she was angry. She was hurt. She had loaded her gun and fired.

Hotch’s stern voice cut through the silence.

“Y/L/N. A word.”

She knew she’d fucked up. She just didn’t know how to fix it.

“it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you. you’re a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.…i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

After that case, Hotch had lectured her about how unprofessional she was. She didn’t need to be told though, she already knew. It had been a few cases since and even though working alongside Spencer had gotten easier, to some degree, being apart from him had gotten even harder.

Going home to an empty apartment to simply play out their shared memories in her mind was like a slow death, thousands of cuts and scars covering her. She could hardly concentrate on anything on the TV without wondering whether Spencer would enjoy it, or catching some old movie they’d watched together.

If she knew one thing about herself is that she found it easier to make people hate her rather than accept their love, it was easier to push people away than to make them understand. So, she twisted in every knife in her back before they were even there in the first place.

She was disappointed in herself. She wasn’t a quitter - she should’ve fought for him but she knew she didn’t have the answers she kept searching for. She still couldn’t quite explain why everything had fallen apart.

The cycle of questions and no answers made her angry. It made her even angrier that he didn’t seem to fight for her either - he’d shown no signs of wanting to talk, even just small talk on the weather. She couldn’t begin to describe how much she missed listening to him talk about anything, especially his ramblings and, for lack of a better term, his knowledge dumps.

She just wanted to feel like herself again, there were too many nights that she got lost in him for her to know herself. Now that she was alone, she was trapped, strapped into a seat of a movie theatre, forced to watch their relationship build, grow, and crumble over and over again.

She questioned why she made him and left him the coffee that day. She tried to tell herself it was her way of saying that she was sorry for being so cruel. If she was being honest, she wanted him to know she was trying. Trying her best to fix what she had broken.

Each day she stepped into the office, he was there and she felt like running. That urge dwindled as the days passed, but it’s a reminder to herself that she’s trying.

Trying to be a better person for herself. For him. For everyone else.

As Hotch told her, “you can only fix this when you have fixed yourself. Until then, you try.”

...

taglist: @itsfangirlmendes​ @toosassy2handle​@toosassy2handle​ @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​ @rexorangecouny​ @myheartbelongsintz @toizerdecker @baddestbau​ @haylaansmi​ @hess016 @blameitonthenight21​

[realityhelixcreates]

The Mystic Garden: Sowing

Chapters: 1/5

Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG

Warnings: death

Characters: Loki(Marvel) 

Additional Tags:  Infinity War Doesn’t Exist, Everybody Lives, Mutants Exist In The MCU, The Reparations Of Loki Of Asgard

Summary:   Despite S.H.I.E.L.D. becoming a smaller and more selective organization, Loki still finds himself assigned to them upon Asgard's arrival on Earth. Required to perform a kind of specialized community service, Loki is paired up with another outcast, of a kind he is not familiar with: A mutant named Iris.

Loki of Asgard was a very beautiful man.

Loki of Asgard was a very powerful man.

Loki of Asgard was a very dangerous man.

And that was about all that anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. could agree on about Loki of Asgard.

To some, he was an asshole. To others, perfectly charming. To yet more, he was polite, but distant. Funny. Serious. Sarcastic. Aloof. Morbid. Morose. Intimidating. Shy. Threatening. Angry. Flirty. Each person Iris asked described him in a different way.

To Iris, he was a looming presence, staring her down with searing intensity. Her shiny, brand new partner. Joy.

“So you're the unfortunate one.” He grumbled. “Winner of the worst lottery this organization has ever thrown.”

“I'm Iris Devereaux.” She said, holding out her hand. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

He glanced at her hand with a sneer. “No you aren't.”

“Beg pardon?”

“No one is pleased to meet me.”

“Oh. Well. Here's the thing: you don't decide that for me.”

He raised one perfect eyebrow, tilting his head back.

“I don't tolerate men telling me what I do and don't think or feel. Only I can know that. Now, you gonna shake my hand or not, Mister 'of Asgard'?”

Loki harrumphed. “As you demand, Miss 'of the Riverbank'.”

“What?” Iris took his hand and gave it a firm shake. He allowed it, but drew his hand back the instant she released it.

“Your surname. It means 'riverbank'. Didn't you know? Named after a goddess, and yet you seem to have lived humbly.”

“I'm named after a flower.” Iris corrected.

“The flower was named after the goddess.” He re-corrected. “The personification of the rainbow, a messenger of the gods. She who waters the clouds with her ocean-filled pitcher, flying on glowing, golden wings to carry the pleas of mankind to the gods they prayed to. As she connected the sea and the sky, her rainbows connected mankind to the gods. Just as our Bifrost connected Asgard to Midgard with the beauty and magnificence of the rainbow.”

“Oh, please.” Another agent groaned from their nearby work station. Loki glared.

“Well, that's...informative.” Iris said. Was this what Loki was like? Standoffish, unless given something to talk about? He was certainly well-spoken. “I'm pretty sure my parents just had the flower in mind though.”

“A delicate goddess, an ephemeral rainbow, or a nodding blossom on the riverbank: it all paints a pretty picture, does it not?” He asked.

Iris narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“I wonder.” Loki said.

“Will you two just go get some coffee or something?” the other agent snapped. “I've got to finish this by ten hundred.”

“Fine, jeez, keep your vest on.” Iris said. Loki glared once again. “C'mon, there's a thousand break rooms on this old boat. We can take one over for ourselves.”

   *****

“Who was that cur?” Loki demanded as Iris programmed the coffee machine for two cups. “Who does he think he is talking to? I am still a prince of Asgard, and a god! No pencil-pushing desk monkey speaks to me that way!”

“Hey, cool your chops.” Iris said, getting the mugs. “The pencil-pushing desk monkeys keep this whole show running. Who do you think runs this boat? Where does our intel come from? Who finds out if it's any good or not? Who does the budgets, communication, tech, cleanup, triage, programming, and supplies? The heroes get the fame, sure, but we're ultimately expendable. These guys own this shindig. Do you like caramel?”

“I...might?” He said, and Iris added a squirt of syrup to each steaming mug, then handed him his. “And you might be expendable, but I most certainly am not.”

“Cheers, bro. I'll drink to that.” Iris raised her mug in his direction and took a long gulp of fresh, caramel coffee. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun.

Loki seemed perplexed, either by the flavor of the coffee, or her casual acceptance of his declaration.

“Not that it will come to that.” He backtracked. “As my partner, you will have the advantage of my protection.”

“Joy. So, your highness, what's landed you here? You aren't exactly known as a friend to mankind. Why join S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He harrumphed as Iris took another long pull from her mug. “You say 'join' as if I was given a choice. This is penance, nothing more. It was decided when Asgard had to relocate here, that I would work for a 'humanitarian' organization. Save lives equal to those whose deaths I was responsible for. Work towards paying off the cost it took to rebuild. And so I perform the Reparations of Loki of Asgard, defending this realm from itself. Once I have accomplished this, I will leave.”

“Mhm. And how far have you gotten?”

“It's only been a few months.” He huffed. “So not nearly as far as I'd like. How did they lure you in?”

Iris shrugged. “Job's a job. This one is steady, has good benefits, and it certainly keeps me engaged. It's no daily grind, that's for sure.”

“But with your power, could you not be a leader of some sort, rather than in a subservient 'expendable' position?”

“Ah. You've read my file.”

“Of course I did. As I assume you've read mine. Prying things. Why do they need so many personal details? But yes. It mentioned that you have an unusual power, beyond others of your type? Why are you not in charge?”

“Hoo boy.” Iris took a seat across from him. “You don't know much about human social structure, do you?���

Loki frowned. “It was never supposed to matter.”

“Well, it matters now. And it's mattered to me my whole life, because I can't just run off home to fairy tale land, so it looks like we both have no choice but to deal with it. You know what a mutant is?”

“I know what the word means, but I don't know how it applies to you.” Loki said, perplexed. “You look like any other human to me, so I assume it is something internal?”

Now it was Iris' turn to harrumph. “Well, you look like any other Asgardian to me, so I guess we've both got something going on under our skin, don't we? Tell you what: you explain to me what a 'frost giant' is, and I'll explain what a 'mutant' is in this context.”

“And if I refuse?” Loki sneered.

“Then I do too.” Iris said simply.

Loki stared at her across the table, the intensity of his gaze as hot as the coffee, and Iris tried her best to pretend to be unaffected by it. It wasn't that he wasn't intimidating, but an unfortunate lifetime of bigotry and constant background danger had given her a skin as thick as wood. Well, her mutation had done that as well.

“I can do this all day.” He warned.

“Alright.” Iris shrugged.

A few very awkward minutes passed, a silence spent sipping coffee, until her supervisor, Chris Timmitz, interrupted.

“Iris! Loki. There you are! I've been looking for you two. Lucky to find you in the same place, you've got a job coming up.”

“Oh yeah? Lay it on me boss.” Iris said. Loki grimaced.

“We think we've got another possible HYDRA shelter, kinda out in the open this time. We need more intel. That's where you come in.”

“It's located next to a forest, isn't it?”

“A meadow, actually.” He said a bit sheepishly. “We need you to, uh, plant some bugs on the property.”

“Ha ha.” Iris said flat-voiced.

“Aw c'mon, I didn't come up with the terminology.”

“Was that some kind of insult?” Loki asked darkly. “Do you degrade your employees?”

“Well, it wasn't meant to be.” Chris explained. “It's not my fault the language is what it is. And what about you? Iris may act tough, but she's really sweet and sensitive, so you'd better act right-”

“Or what?” Loki challenged.

“Chris. Cut it out. We don't have to be chummy, we just have to get the job done.” Iris said. “So give us the details.”

“Right, right. We're starting Tuesday. It seems to be when the fewest people are there...”

                ****

Iris crawled through the tall grass of the meadow, the plants moving naturally around her, so as to not alert her enemies that she was there. The shelter was an old schoolhouse apparently, that HYDRA agents had taken over, ostensibly to restore the historical building and turn it into a museum...all the while sheltering their agents from the law, and pushing revisionist history in an effort to spread their doctrine through yet another small town. They had done this so many times before, changing the narrative, changing the perceptions of the people.

HYDRA had many heads. It was the symbolism of the thing. Some of those heads infiltrated governments, and worked to influence world policy. Other heads overran small towns, influencing the vote, which served to make the jobs of the others easier.

Some people in S.H.I.E.L.D. likened them to a virus to be quarantined, cut out, and destroyed. Iris saw them as a sickness to be cured. Anyone could change their minds, given reason. The trick was to find the reason. That wasn't her job, and she didn't think she'd be good at it, but she knew that there were anti-radicalization support groups popping up here and there now, and no wonder, with the state of the current administration. Iris knew HYDRA must have gotten their voice very well entrenched into the government.

But Iris was more directly concerned with these little heads, with blocking their progress, slowing them down, and just generally inconveniencing them.

She'd gotten the usual stares and glares, upon entering the little town, but it was hard to tell if it was HYDRAs influence, or just typical American small town prejudice when faced with a dark-skinned stranger. Either way, she wouldn't want to live here.

She settled down in the grass, stretched out on her belly, and the sod began to part beneath her. Loki, who had simply made himself invisible with his alien magics, and crept along beside her, was clearly capable of sneaking with the best of them. He barely displaced a blade of grass. He crouched down beside her.

“We are stopping here?” He whispered. “How shall you place your devices? Will you throw them?”

“No, My aim isn't that good.” Iris said, ignoring his smug “Mine is.”, and beginning to sink into the newly exposed soil.

“Uh...Miss Devereaux...are you aware that the earth appears to be swallowing you?”

“Don't worry about it, it's fine.” She wriggled her feet out of her flimsy sandals and into the dirt. She was positioned to just be able to see the old schoolhouse over the edge of the trough that had been excavated beneath her. That was all she needed.

“Certainly. Nothing out of the ordinary here.”

“You're one to talk. Hand me the bugs.”

There were only three of them: tiny things, no larger than the creatures they were named after. Iris took them, then tore a packet of seeds open with her teeth, pouring the contents into her hands.

“This is going to take me a pretty long time. Couple of days, probably. What I'm going to need the most from you is tending. Every hour, give me something to drink. Every four hours, give me something to eat. Make sure no one sweeps through here with a lawn mower or a fire. I'm not going to be able to move, and will likely be in something of a trance. Sorry I won't be better company.”

“That's a lot of orders coming from one little human.” Loki grumbled.

“My life is in your hands.”

“That's...a bit better.”

She pressed her hand against the earth in front of her, and concentrated.

For some minutes it didn't appear to Loki that anything was happening at all. Then the first of the thin, white roots began squirming out from between her fingers, roping around her hand.

Loki stretched out in the tall grass next to her as the roots slowly formed a ragged, grasping ball of pale worms against her chestnut skin. He remained silent for hours alongside her, dutifully holding a small bottle of water to her lips every hour or so. As she had said earlier, Iris lay very still, and very trance-like, drinking without acknowledging that she even knew he was there.

“Hmmm.” He whispered. “I hate being ignored, you know. I wonder if you can even hear me? Could you explain what it is that you are doing, or are you so far away that you cannot even answer? What would happen if I touched you right now, Goddess-Flower of the Riverbank? Would I break your concentration? Would you even notice?”

He opened one of the little ration packs, half of which were specifically labeled with Iris' name. Within were little brown cubes that smelled deeply unappetizing to Loki, formed from a slurry of many mysterious ingredients.

“A special recipe, just for you? S.H.I.E.L.D. must value you more highly than you have previously stated. Here you go, Bright Blossom.” He held the little cube to Iris' lips, which parted automatically to accept the cube. “And so I have become no more than a nutrient dispensary. How far I have fallen.”

He fed her the cubes, one by one. Every brush of her petal-velvet lips against his fingers tempted him to push them into her mouth, a temptation that brought a chuckle to his own lips. There were only so many games he would be allowed to play, before S.H.I.E.L.D. kicked him out entirely. He wasn't attached to S.H.I.E.L.D., or anyone within the organization, but working for them kept him active, kept him relevant, kept him engaged, and most importantly, kept him out of prison. Community service was infuriating, but he had experienced the soul-crushing torment of solitary confinement, and this was much preferable.

A cold, uncomfortable cell? Or laying in the grass on a warm, sunny day, hand-feeding a pretty girl?

He was very tempted to lay his hand on the small of her back, where her uniform had ridden up just enough to show a strip of glistening skin, but it wouldn't have the proper punch with Iris in this deep trance. Without reaction, there was no fun.

The roots winding their way up her arms were somewhat unsettling. Was this what her file had meant when it noted that she was a 'mutant'? That she could cause plants to sprout? Could other humans do that?

Hours later, when the sun had set, and the roots had wriggled into the soil all around her, and crawled their way up to her shoulders, Iris stirred.

“Mph. Man, I'm sore.” She complained.

“Ah, welcome back. There is a powerful desire I need you to fulfill.”

“Not on company time. There's trees over there, go behind them and, uh, work it out? Also, for next time, I really don't need to know.”

“You flatter yourself, or you underestimate me. What I want, is for you to explain what you are doing. Are you making those plants grow?”

“Oh. Yeah, basically. You read my file; you know I'm a mutant.”

“Yes, but I do not know the significance of the term.” Loki admitted. “Is it this? This magic you wield?”

“It's not magic, it's just...it's genetic. I was born this way. At first it was just little things. Gardens grew better wherever I went, I didn't get hungry as much when there was sunlight, I didn't need to drink as much as long as there was water on the ground. I grew up in a way rural community tucked away in the Everglades. We were real poor, so being outside and having wet and muddy feet was just normal for all the kids.

As I got older, the signs got more obvious. I can do things that plants can do. I can direct their growth, and I sorta...change with the seasons, depending on where I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eh, stick around long enough and you'll see. Anyway, people aren't too fond of mutants, and it got...tough. To live at home, I mean. So I went out into the wild, and I did pretty well there, but S.H.I.E.L.D. found me and offered me something else. Not every mutant is like me. There's a lot of different ways to be a mutant, it's unpredictable. Some folks can fly, others can turn their bodies into metal, and some can heal wounds to their body in seconds. I manipulate plants, and am, in some ways, like them.”

“I see. And you are causing these plants to grow for what purpose?”

“Spying purposes. It's gonna take a few days, but these vines will tunnel through the ground, all the way up to the school house. When they break ground, I'll send one of them up that tree there, another one around the frame of that window there, and the third down the chimney. You saw those little devices? They're holding those in packets of leaves, and will position them so that they remain hidden, but they consist of audio, video, and heat signature recorders. Once I've gotten them in place, we'll leave. That's all this mission is; bugs on plants.”

“Then why am I here?” He wondered. “You seem to have this well in hand.”

“Someone's gotta feed me. And make sure I don't get found out. There's rumors you can make magic illusions. That's probably why. You can hide us both from any eyes or cameras.”

“And I have.” Loki said proudly. “And fed and...watered you, Little Blossom. What else do you need from me?”

“To do it all again tomorrow.” Iris said. Then she dropped her head into the nest of roots, and settled down to sleep.

                                                                         *****

Iris was awake and in her trance just as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon. Loki had been awake even before that, every swish of grass or crackle of leaves grabbing his attention.

“Rest.” He commanded her. “I have not the need of it that you do. Never forget: I am no weak mortal. You require a large amount of sleep, but I am all the greater.”

Iris had snorted at the bravado, but accepted the cubes he fed her, and fell into her trance, the roots curling further and further around her body.

Loki idly wondered how far the roots would go. Would they cocoon Iris entirely, prompting her to 'hatch' into a new form? Would they drag her down into the earth, entombing her away from Loki forever? Or would they just die back?

He watched people come and go to the old schoolhouse, working on its restoration. They looked for all the world like normal workers; he didn't even believe any of them to be armed. Not all HYDRA agents were combatants, after all. Just as many of them were spies, thieves, politicians, PR specialists and spin doctors.

Ever since what the other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents called 'The Big Reveal', both organizations had been frantically rebuilding. S.H.I.E.L.D. more slowly, taking only the best, only the most trustworthy. Loki supposed he should be proud, even though he knew he was only there as a glorified prisoner.

HYDRA's recruits seemed to be skyrocketing, as they took to the internet in search of easily radicalized young men-mostly men, and boys-to bolster their numbers. They found plenty of them, and quickly, but they were sloppy and unpredictable. All too often, one let their ego overcome their loyalty to the cause, an event that almost always led to public confrontation and violence. But the news media-already infiltrated, most likely-was always quick to exonerate or sympathize with a young white man.

HYDRA disgusted Loki, even back when he had 'convinced' a small cell to work with him. No one group knew what the others were doing. There was a severe lack of communication between cells. Yes, Loki supposed it kept them safe from discovery, but he found it inefficient. A waste of potential by people more invested in the pageantry of a secret society, than by the end goal they hoped to achieve.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was little better, in his opinion, but at least its people were more serious about their work. Communication was more open, their goals more achievable. It felt like they made a difference, whether they really did or not. And they didn't waste potential. HYDRA would simply kill someone like Iris, S.H.I.E.L.D. found her valuable enough to spend resources on her. Under Loki's regime, had he succeeded, Iris, and all people like her, would have been of personal interest to him. All of these so-called 'mutants' would have been given places of high honor. Loki did not waste potential.

But that wasn't worth spending more time dwelling on. It was never meant to happen in the first place. When and where he would rule was yet to be discovered, but it would not happen until he was finished with his penance.

He provided Iris with her water, barely able to see her under all the roots. It was no wonder that she could not go into the field without a partner; she could not be ready for combat, couldn't even eat on her own! If they had to run, was he just supposed to tear her from the root wrapping and toss her over his shoulder? Would disconnecting her like that cause her harm?

He would have to ask next time she woke.

A young man approached, wielding an unfamiliar device. Loki was immediately on high alert. Was that some kind of weapon? He wandered all the way up to the verge of the grasses, gazing placidly out over the meadow. This was a HYDRA agent? He was barely out of adolescence! But from what Loki remembered of his brothers youthful declarations of hatred towards the Jotunn, radicalization did indeed start young.

“Naw, I think it must have been a glitch.” He said into his lapel. “There's nothing out here, not even trails in the grass.” He paused, listening. “Naw. Maybe it was a coyote? There's plenty of wild animals that wander around out here. My bro swears he saw a puma last year. Anyway, I'm gonna trim the grass, since I'm here anyway. If you're really worried, come out and check your cameras. I ain't gonna do it for you.”

With that, the young man yanked a long string, attached to a pod on the device, causing the thing to roar to life. Its loud snarl effectively covered Loki's startled gasp, his invisible eyes wide at the noise and the fact that everything within a six inch radius of the device's head was shredded and flung in all directions.

He had to maintain the illusion. But Iris was right in the horrible things' path. It would rip right into her face.

Unacceptable.

Loki rolled over on top of her, covering her body, roots and all, with his own. He ducked his head just as the device passed by. The force was like a high speed whip, tearing at his hair. It would have lacerated his scalp, possibly to the bone, had he been human. It would have certainly injured Iris, whom he kept safely tucked under his body, protected by his armor and tough, godly flesh.

The young man made a few more passes, working his way down the edge of the meadow, leaving Loki with a stinging scalp from his impromptu haircut, eventually leaving after finishing a rough, sub-par job.

Loki kept still, concentrating on maintaining the illusion, now including fresh cut grass. He feared it had wavered under the assault he had suffered, but the young man hadn't seemed to notice. Hours passed with no movement from Loki, just watching as various people came and went, doing their jobs. Eventually they all trickled away.

The sun had grown low in the sky before Loki felt Iris stir.

“Um. Loki? What are you doing? Did something happen?” Iris asked, her voice muffled by his body.

“Pardon me.” He rolled back into the grass as Iris shook her face free of the grasping roots. “Some boy came through here with a horrible device that tore up the grasses. It was necessary to cover you.”

Iris sniffed the air. “Someone cut the grass. Geez, did he hit you? Your hair!”

“Is it bad?” He asked, then covered his vanity. “It doesn't matter. I made good on my word. Here, eat.” He held food to her mouth. It would be almost too bad when this was over. Feeding her was so easy, so satisfying, and his hair would grow back anyway. If only all missions could be this easy.

Iris ate, watching the sunset, Loki laying on his side in the grass next to her, just watching her. Roots and shredded grass decorated her body, cube after cube passing her lips.

“Miss Devereaux, how will you remove yourself from those roots? If I must tear them, will it hurt you?”

Iris shook her head. “No, the roots aren't attached to me. If we pull this off without a hitch, I'll direct them into the soil. But if we have to get out in a hurry, you can tear them; it won't hurt me.”

“That's good to know.” Loki rolled onto his back, hands behind his head. “There is much still to learn about this realm. What is this that you are eating?”

“You sure you wanna know?” She asked.

“I am suddenly less curious, now that you have said that.” He admitted. “They do smell incredibly unappealing.”

“It's fertilizer, essentially. Fish emulsion and seaweed, blood and bone meal, fermented vegetables, all mashed together. Sounds super gross, I know,” She said at his disgusted expression. “But it's really good for me. My body absorbs it so efficiently that there isn't even any waste. Like roots inside me that absorb everything.”

“Are there? Roots inside you, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” Iris said quietly. “Maybe.”

“It bothers you? I see. It removes you from humanity. Sets you apart. And yet, you think that makes you inferior, rather than the other way around?”

“I'm not better than anybody else.” Iris said.

“You think not? Is there anyone else in this world who can do what you can do? How many people have your S.H.I.E.L.D. actively recruited? They came to find you specifically, why would they do that?  Because you were completely average? You are a valued agent of a semi-clandestine organization bent on world improvement. You have been partnered to a god. You are above-average, Iris. Why is that difficult to accept?”

“Are you 'above average' in Asgard, Loki? Have you always been celebrated for it?”

“Mostly.”

“I haven't. I've been despised. I've been misunderstood. I've been coddled and hidden away by my parents in an attempt to protect me. I've been discriminated against by strangers, and teachers, and employers, and neighbors whose kids I grew up with. By those same kids.

I walked out into the wild one day, and didn't come back. I never planned on coming back, never planned on seeing another person ever again. But S.H.I.E.L.D. weren't the first to find me. There were two others. There was a man, a strange old man who could fly. He floated down from the sky, and told me that as a mutant, I was naturally superior to all other humans. He wanted me to come with him, said he was building some grand future for mutantkind, as if we were a different species.”

“Who was this man?” Loki asked, intrigued.

“No idea. I told him to leave. It wasn't long after I had left home, and I really didn't want to go back to any kind of civilization. I was kinda fantasizing about becoming some kind of cryptid, you know? The Everglades Swamp Witch, or something like that.

Then the botanists came. A whole group of them, trying to catalog Ghost Orchids. They're endangered, and people keep stealing them, and wrecking up their habitat. But I knew where they were. All two thousand of them. And I convinced them that I was in contact with all the remaining plants, so if any went missing after their expedition, I'd know, and come hunting for them.”

She grinned. “Like I said, Swamp Witch vibes. They even believed me!”

“So you cannot actually do that?” Loki asked. The stars had come out, forming unfamiliar shapes in the night sky. His eyes could pick out fainter lights than a humans could, and he admired the active beauty of this part of the universe while eating from one of the non-specialty ration packs.

“Well, I can, but not automatically. And not that far away. I have to be closer to a plant to really sense it, and I have to be trying really hard. Like, if I wanted to figure out where the nearest maple tree was, I would have to concentrate on that, and block out all the grass. But a maple has a different...I guess you could call it a signature? A different signature than grass does. A Ghost Orchid grows on trees, and is basically just a ball of roots when it's not blooming. Kinda like this-” Iris nodded at the roots tangled around her. “But way smaller. It looks like nothing, almost. They're very hard to spot. But they have that different signature than the tree they grow on, and I can follow that to where they are.”

“So you found all their plants, as if by magic.”

“Yeah, and they paid me pretty well for it, and I sent the money home to my parents, and then the botanists went home and blabbed. Next thing I know. S.H.I.E.L.D. is on my tail.”

“Because you were friendly to botanists?”

“Well...I might have also...sabotaged a development project.” Iris said sheepishly. “But it was right on the edge of the National Park, and I didn't let anybody get hurt! And I'm pretty sure it was dubiously legal anyway.”

The edges of Loki's mouth curled, even as his eyebrows lifted.

“What's this? You're 'shy and sensitive' I was told. Was I sold a bill of goods? Are you, in fact, a naughty little mutant?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Ugh, don't joke. Naughty little mutants end up dead.”

The amusement drained from his face.

“You would be celebrated in Asgard.” He said.

“We aren't in Asgard.” She answered. “The only thing that matters is where we are now. Those guys in there? They'd kill us both just for being born. They'd make it so that no one like us could ever be born again. When S.H.I.E.L.D showed up, in their black uniforms and started introducing themselves as 'agents', I thought that's what they had come for. The government was there to kill me.

At that point, I'd been off the grid for over a year, and I didn't know anything about the S.H.I.E.L.D./HYDRA internet explosion. But when they started talking about rebuilding as a humanitarian organization, dedicated to the protection of people-marginalized people-from, like, terrorist groups and hostile aliens, I realized they weren't there to kill me or arrest me, they were just there for me.

So I didn't make them disappear, and went with them instead. I still send money home to my parents. They don't know where I am, or what I do. They don't know the true extent of my capabilities. I'm not sure I do either. The thing about being a mutant is that a lot of these powers don't get replicated exactly, so we each have to figure ourselves out. There's no training regimen or curriculum for this.”

“So all of this is self taught?” Loki asked, impressed. “I'm not even entirely self taught.”

“You were taught? This all didn't just come from being a god or whatever?”

“No, of course not. The power is there naturally, but it needs directing. Like you, I suppose. You're born with it, but need teaching to use it. I had the best teachers the universe could offer, and was exalted and encouraged. You had only yourself, and adversity. I've seen but little of you, but this seems a great feat so far.”

“A compliment?”

“An acknowledgment. It's good to know S.H.I.E.L.D. has become more discerning in its recruitment. I hear it was more than a little disastrous for them last time.”

“Like I said, I didn't find out about that until after. Though, I guess it's not all that surprising that it happened. There's a lot that can go wrong inside an organization that big, and with that much reach. There's just too much going on; there can never be enough oversight.”

“I know.” Loki said. “I used that against them when I attempted to bring down the planet. Somehow, they still didn't notice the traitors among them.”

“You worked with HYDRA?” Iris asked defensively.

“No.” Loki said. “I used them. I didn't...make many distinctions then, in my interactions with mortals.”

“Kinda seems like you still don't.” Iris pointed out. Loki took a breath and hesitated.

“Moreso than I did then.” He said slowly. “Then, you were just tools. A means to an end. Disposable. Interchangeable. There are so many of you, so it wasn't like any of your could actually be important.”

“Right up until barely six of us beat the tar out of you and blew up your entire army?”

Loki scowled. “That is a misstatement. The plan was always to lose.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“No, I'm serious. Earth was the weakest link in the Nine Realms, and it needed to be awakened. And you were. Spectacularly. Look what it's lead to. S.H.I.E.L.D. was purged, HYDRA exposed, and your world made ready for the arrival of Asgard. You've been opened to higher interactions, as a progressing member of the Realms.”

“Uh huh. That was totally the end goal, right? Inter-species altruism? That was what filled your heart while you blew people up?”

“Norns, no!” Loki snorted. “I hated every last one of you. I took a special delight in destroying that which was weaker than myself, never think I didn't. It's just...It wasn't entirely up to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...I mean that losing was an act of defiance that sparked off the strengthening defense of Midgard, which I continue to participate in. Doing small jobs for S.H.I.E.L.D., rubbing out the likes of HYDRA and A.I.M., all of this contributes to this strengthening.”

Iris regarded him suspiciously through her framework of roots.

“You sound like you're running some sinister, behind-the-scenes shadow plan.” She accused. “You wanna explain?”

Loki smiled, a wan, false thing.

“Do you want some water?” He offered instead.

Iris rolled her eyes. “You're not gonna distract me.”

“And I am not going to elaborate further. Your curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied, or supplemented by your own imagination.”

“Hmph. Why'd you even bring it up then?”

“I? I think you'll find our conversation naturally meandered in this direction. That does not mean it must come to the conclusion you desire.”

“So this is what Abby meant when she said you were a pain in the ass to talk to.” Iris grumbled.

“I was not put here to satisfy Abby.” Loki said airily. “Who is Abby?”

“She asked you on a date.” Iris said. “You don't even remember her? Harsh.”

Loki shrugged. “She sounds frightfully dull. I may have to play nice for now, but I needn't entertain every persons sordid fantasies. Do you leap through every hoop set before you? Or do you also tell unimportant people that you aren't interested in entertaining them?”

“All right, that's fair.” Iris craned her head back to look up at the stars. “Which one is Asgard? Can you see it from here?”

“You can't.” Loki said. “The star is too far away, too small. And it doesn't matter now anyway. Home is gone, and we must rebuild from scratch. But that one, right there-do you see? Another realm orbits that one, the Frozen Realm of Jotunheim. They were our enemies once, and yours, but no more. Partly because they are under 'house arrest' as it were, trapped on their own planet. My father drove them off your planet over a thousand years ago. Your world actually warmed up without their influence, at least for a little while.”

“There were aliens here a thousand years ago?” Iris asked, incredulous.

“There have been 'aliens' here for ages.” Loki said. “Visitations and experiments, and failed colonies, and raids. Your ancestors were still getting the hang of fire, and there were 'aliens' visiting your lush and beautiful world. Making plans. Then your lot discovered agriculture and metal, and ruined a lot of those plans.”

“Seems like we're good at that.”

“Yes, yes, I was defeated by mortals. I am aware. I was the first to know.” Loki grumbled.

“Wait, does that mean the aliens really did build the pyramids?” Iris wondered.

Loki snickered. “The hubris of humanity is not universally shared. You are known for several things, and your inexplicable drive for monument building is one of them. Visitors did not build your great buildings; you did. They did come to see them though, like tourists. Some of them even took artifacts back home with them. Hopefully they weren't too historically important.”

“That's so rude.” Iris said.

“And you would never have known to take offense if I hadn't told you.”

God of Mischief indeed.

“What other realms are there? Just the nine?”

“Eight now, I suppose. But no. There are many peoples out there. The Nine Realms were just those places that were somehow related to Asgard. Allies, protectorates and...penal colonies, you might call them. But all interconnected, and all at least a little dependent on the others, at least some of the time. That has come to an end. There is a very powerful spot now empty. I fear there will be a great deal of turmoil before things even themselves back out. It would be interesting to see how that all plays out, but alas, I am trapped here for now.”

“Where would you go?” Iris asked.

“Alfheim first, I think.” Loki said. “They like me there. They are much less dour than the Dverguar, less serious than the Vanir, not so boastful and bombastic as Asgardins, not vicious as Jotunn, and nowhere near as hectic and anxious as Midgardians...humans, I mean. They like jokes and pranks, and value magic...perhaps I should have been Alfar? If only I could have chosen.”

“Yeah, I think we all feel that way sometimes. But I guess even gods don't get that choice. Hey, how do gods work, anyway? I mean, I stopped believing in any all-powerful force a long time ago. About when the only answer anyone could really give me as to why God would make someone like me was that I was put here to test faith. My own, or other people's maybe. It made me sick. What kind of 'father' puts a burden like that on a little kid?”

Loki scoffed. “The first mistake that humans make is in thinking that anything can be all-powerful, all-knowing, or infallible. It is a ridiculous fantasy notion, immature and irresponsible. That kind of thinking can only lead to two things: complete disillusionment, or harm to the self or others. I am a god, because I have a singular connection to a certain aspect of the universe, as does my brother, but neither of us are any of those things. How boring, to be all-knowing! How banal, to be all-powerful. And I have known people who seemed to think they were infallible, and the amount of misery and suffering they caused is unspeakable.

No, gods were never supposed to be all that. Greater than others, yes, but omnipotent...no, that's only for people who are overcompensating I think.”

“What's that about a special connection to the universe?” Iris asked.

“The universe is ridiculously unstable. Did you know that? I believe it was a human that posited that reality destroys and remakes itself fairly often in the scheme of things, but by the nature of it, it's impossible to ever know if that's true. Because if reality is destroyed, so are you, and so, you would never know. And if reality rebuilds itself, then that is the only reality that exists, so you would never know.”

“Oh hell, I don't like that.”

“Well just don't think about it. In any case, this instability seems to be occasionally expressed through individuals of particularly resilient and long-lived species, by connecting them to certain random forces. For my brother, it is the natural occurrence of thunder and lightning, those two things being directly connected. For me, it is an expression of sophisticated behaviors. Those forces are ours to deploy and manipulate to our will, and we affect them in the world around us, even as they effect us.”

“So you're just born with it too, huh?”

“So it seems.”

Iris settled back down into her swaddling roots to sleep, leaving Loki to stare up at the stars. The grass-cutting human had mentioned cameras. Loki had shielded them from that kind of surveillance on the way in, just in case. They must be hidden somewhere out in the trees. Could Iris detect such things? Would it be worthwhile to disable any, if suspicion was already on them? Or would that merely draw even more suspicion?

Perhaps while Iris remained incapacitated, actions that might bring more enemies out should be avoided. She did not have his durable skin, after all, nor his speed or strength. But with her unusual and largely unexplained powers, he hesitated in thinking of her as weak. More like...a specialist.

He felt her stir, just as the sun was lifted into the sky, and he fed her her morning cubes. She settled into her work trance almost immediately. Perhaps she was put off by the previous nights conversation, and didn't want more of the same. Perhaps she simply wanted to finish this mission quickly. Surely she too found it boring to lay in the same spot for days.

He watched the people come and go about their work restoring the schoolhouse. How many of them were just regular workers, and how many were enemy agents? Impossible to tell by looking, especially if even the youth were involved.

The sun had not risen particularly high when he noticed a difference. The roots that wrapped Iris' body were thinning; as he watched, more and more broke away from the tangle to bury themselves in the dirt at her sides. It was like watching worms escaping danger.

Finally, Iris pulled her hands from the soil, and pushed free of the roots.

“Alright.” She said. “Bugs are in. Now it's time for us to bug out.”

In retrospect, Loki could admit that he had been too eager to leave. He simply didn't do well with long periods of inactivity. So when he walked into the trees surrounding the meadow, and found himself face to face with a shotgun-wielding hunter, he wasn't too embarrassed. No, what really made him kick himself was when the one behind them held Iris at gunpoint. How could he have let one of these yokels get behind him?

“Who the hell are you freaks?” The one in front demanded. Loki recognized him as the youth with the loud grass cutting device who had ruined his hair.

“Gaw, this one stinks!” The other one exclaimed. “Well what do ya expect? She looks like mud, of course she smells like it.”

“We were just out looking for a...private place, if you catch my drift.” Loki said smoothly, getting ready. “Nothing to get worried about. It's just such a nice day, and we couldn't help ourselves.”

“Gross.” The one behind Iris said.

“We don't want you degenerate types around here.” The one in front of Loki said. “Now hands up, freak. You're way too close.”

“To what, pray tell?” Loki said. Almost ready.

“Don't talk about it, dumbass!” The other one hissed.

“Look, let's just kill them, to be sure.” The one in front of Loki said. “World ain't gonna miss a few freaks. And then nobody knows, and we don't get in trouble.”

Loki lifted his hand in a gesture he knew humans considered to be rude. Both men fired their guns.

Neither of them saw the illusions of Loki and Iris fade away, sprawled as they were one the forest floor, bleeding from the bullet wounds they'd inflicted upon one another.

Several yards away, Loki took his hands from over Iris' ears, and approached the HYDRA recruits. One of them was still alive. Loki carefully wrapped his hand in a cloth he manifested from seemingly nowhere, and casually suffocated him.

He then led the horrified Iris back to their rented car, and got back onto the highway as quickly as he could.

The silence stretched on for several hours, Loki watching the road, Iris gazing out the window at the scenery.

“Why didn't we sneak off as soon as you put up those illusions?” She finally asked. “We were invisible. We could have just left.”

“They had seen us.” Loki said. “They could not be allowed to go and inform their superiors. If there was suspicion that we had been snooping around the school, the entire point of the mission would be moot. Besides, they were extremely rude.”

“Don't joke.” Iris said sharply. “You killed that man in cold blood.”

“I killed him on cold practicality.” Loki corrected. “He could not be allowed to live, and let others know that he and the other one hadn't actually accidentally shot one another. Once anyone had seen us, that had to be the end for them. It is understandable that you might not like that, which is why I would not ask you to participate. But if I am sent on a mission as a protector, then that is what I will do. These were men who wanted to kill you just for being born, remember?”

“They were radicalized. They could have been deradicalized.”

“And how do you propose we were to do that?”

Iris huffed. “Damnit.”

“Sometimes we aren't afforded the choices we would prefer. But don't fret. I will take full responsibility in the report. I know the Director isn't keen on too many work-related killings.” It was part of why Loki took such delight in reporting work-related killings. Just to remind them of who he was, and what he was capable of.

Once they had reached their destination and returned the rental car, Iris called their contact agent for extraction. She wasn't exactly distant, but with other things to focus on, and other people demanding their times, the closeness of the last two days was fading fast.

Oh well, Loki thought. It had been nice while it lasted. But nothing was forever, and all affection was fleeting; he knew that well enough.

But it was a little odd to see her so preoccupied with her phone.

“Have you a Tweety account, or some such?” He asked, trying to strike up a conversation once again.

“Since that doesn't exist: no.” She answered, distracted. “No, there's just...I'm seeing someone, and he wants to meet up as soon as I get back.”

Loki frowned. For some reason, he didn't like that sound of that. “You need rest, don't you?” He suggested.

“Yeah, and it's a little last minute, I admit. But he's an agent too, and our schedules don't match up very often, so we've got to meet when we can, or not at all.”

“That sounds like a difficult arrangement.”

Iris shrugged. “I'll take what I can get. At least he doesn't seem to mind the whole mutant thing. That's kinda important when you're in my shoes.”

“You do not sound entirely enamored of this man.” Loki probed.

“Well...I'd like to get to know him better, but he's very private. Mostly, I just don't want to be alone. It's hard for people like me, you know? I can't just throw a relationship away because it's not some perfect storybook romance. Gotta be more realistic than that. But I sure hope I get a few days rest before I get sent out again.”

It sounded...practical. She had to take her opportunities where she found them. It wasn't as if Loki had never been there. It was perhaps a little sad, since it sounded like she really did want that storybook romance.

Perhaps it was none of his business. It was absolutely none of his business. He followed her anyway, curious about what kind of man made this little flower bloom.

The man in question was not impressive, in Loki's opinion. Not much more than average. Maybe that didn't matter to Iris.

“Bet you're glad to be done with all that, huh?” He asked. “Dealing with that creep couldn't be easy.”

“It wasn't really all that bad, honestly. He-”

“I don't really want to hear about him. C'mon, we have the whole evening! Let's not waste it!”

Loki decided then and there that he did not like this man. Not in small part because he wanted to know what Iris had to say about him.

She took him to what must have been her apartment, and there Loki left. There were a few things he didn't want to know after all.

[pigletxpoohbear]

For my Black Butler request here we go could you do an angsty at the beggining then smut/happy at the ending where Sebastian s/o, she is a demon too, made him jealous, on purpose during a ball or anything else because later he was too busy to notice she need his attention and she think that he loves another girl Thank you so much Please tag me when you publish so I will read/like immediately Have a nice day 🧡❤😘❤💕💕😘

Alright. First sorry it took so long to get back, but here it is. :D

Warning: There’s going to be spoilers for Book of Circus and some things that get changed, mentions of cheating, angst, but fluff. I’ll make smut later down the road when I get a little bit more engaged and possibly write either an alternate ending or an alternate scenario.

When you, Sebastian, and Ciel began the case and went to check out the circus you had a bad feeling in your gut. You didn’t know why. Well, it was partly that they were potentially kidnapping small children, but you didn’t know the other reason.

You had been Ciel’s maid since he was about 2 years old and when the boy was kidnapped you cleaned his room and remade his bed and reorganized his toys every day hoping he’d come home and when he did you never questioned the new butler or his commands. Even so, he told you that Sebastian was a demon he had made a deal with and that his soul essentially belonged to him, but for the time being he would be serving him and that he’d be your “coworker”. Sebastian became fascinated with you and constantly wondered why you treated him so well. You did your job well and a lot of times helped get last-minute preparations put together because something was caught on fire or destroyed. He finally realized that you were a demon too when you caught a punch Finnian was throwing at a tree to get rid of it, but it was Ciel’s favorite tree and you weren’t letting that happen. He confronted you and you told him that you were only half-demon your mother made a deal with a demon to have a child and she was killed when you were 17 because she had and took care of a child, therefore her contract was up. A month later Sebastian asked if he could take you on a date.

In a few days would be your and Sebastian’s one-year anniversary. Only you’d be spending it at the circus as a contortionist named Aria, Sebastian as a clown named Black, and Ciel as a knife thrower named Smile. You didn’t mind that, what you did mind was Beast, the lion tamer always flirting with him. You trusted Sebastian, but you don’t know why he doesn’t tell her to stop like he’s done in the past. Instead, she flirts and touches him and all he does is... Smile. You just passed it off as him staying in character and continued with your practice.

After practice, you were going to your tent, which was separate from Sebastian and Ciel, and saw Sebastian and Beast going into her tent. You felt sick. She had been flirting with him all day and now he was going into her tent. There was no way that he wasn’t cheating on you, but you need to know for sure. You walked next to the tent to listen to what they were saying. “I apologize for any misunderstandings, but I’m not looking for a relationship.” “Well, I’m not either. I’m looking for something a little bit... faster.” “Well, I’m not. I’m actually going to lay it on the table. Aria, the contortionist, is my girlfriend and our anniversary is going to be in a few days. I would appreciate it if you’d stop flirting with me especially in front of her.” “Well, I don’t know exactly who would tell her about this. Besides you’re already in here. So, if I tell no one would believe you.” That’s when you decided enough was enough.

“Listen bitch, he said to piss off and to quit flirting and I heard your whole conversation so I’d believe him. Now is there anything else that you want to say? If not then I believe me and Black will be taking our leave.” She looked at you dumbfounded and Sebastian looked at you in surprise. When you walked out of the tent, Sebastian followed close behind you. You were still angry at him for letting things go so far as to him getting in her tent. “Y/N,” Sebastian said your name almost as a whispered question. “What is it,” your response was angry and sounded less like a question, but more like a command to say something. “I apologize for putting you in that situation.” “Why did it take you so long to tell her off?” “Pardon?” “Every time we’ve had an investigation you’ve always turned down women almost immediately why not this time. Why let it get this far, Sebastian?” “My love, I was trying to potentially get information from her, but my leniency didn’t go the way I wanted and I sincerely apologize for that. I’m truly sorry for making you uneasy and worry about our relationship. You’re the only person I love and the first person I’ve loved in a very long time. Please, forgive me.” This was the first time he’s ever really poured his heart out to you and it really touched you. “Just don’t do it again.” “Of course, never again.” With that last statement, he kissed you. 

@queengiuliettafirstlady

[licenselesswriter]

Ten Duel Commandments CH3

Have your seconds meet face to face

 Wednesday, November 13, 2019

Isadora sits in front of Zay, in the same Starbucks they were last month, "Now I get why you constantly suggested me to watch The Lord of the Rings," she says, checking her phone, "But seriously, Elrond?" she mocks his word choice.

"Did it work?" Zay asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

"You know it was gonna work, photographic memory, remember?" she asks back.

"I know, that's why I insisted that much in you watching The Lord of the Rings," he comments before getting up and goes to get the pastries he asked before. Once he gets back, he fastly offers a few to Isadora.

"You gonna ask me a huge favor if you're also giving me pastries," she comments on his friend's actions.

"You know, we should this more often," Zay says chuckling,

"If we can agree that this is only platonic and only for the benefit of our friends, I have no reason to oppose," Isadora replies, taking one of the pastries in the table.

"Of course, I mean, even with my eyes that can see that you're a total beauty, the eyes of my heart are only focussing on Vanessa," Zay replies before straightening his posture and look directly at Isadora's eyes, "Now, into the reason I called you here," he starts.

"You want me to coarse my dearest one into giving you a chance to talk and he to listen," Isadora says, almost reading his mind.

Zay looks at her, surprised, "I can't win against you," he admits, "And for the record, in case you want to say no, I'm not looking for him to change sides, I just want him to listen what I have to say," he adds.

"I know, you're loyal to Lucas, but not a manipulative person," Isadora says, "May I ask what you want to talk with him?" she asks.

"I just want for us to be at peace again," Zay replies, "I might be loyal to Lucas, but it pains me looking at our little group separated by this," he adds.

Isadora gives him a caring look, "I know, I'm in the same position, but I decide to be impartial about this," she says, knowing that this might b the right course of action.

"So, would you talk to him?" he asks.

"Yeah, I will, but I won't promise that he will accept," Isadora answers.

"Well, you can always use pastries to coarse him," Zay jokes.

"He's a millionaire, nay, billionaire, do you think I can coarse him with pastries?" she asks, looking at his friend take a few minutes to think, "And for God's sake, if you're gonna suggest sex, I will suggest that you go to your own home and have intercourse with yourself," she adds.

Zay chuckles at her subtle invitation to fuck himself.

Cory looked at his students, and how everything seems normal, but he has known those kids since they were in fourth grade, and he knew that this wasn't normal.

He finally moves and takes a piece of chalk from his desk, before giving his students his back, to write '1947,' on the blackboard, "So, nineteen forty-seven," he starts.

"The cold war," Farkle fastly says.

"Correct," Cory says, "Which was a period of history where, both blocks of the world, didn't engage in any actions that would produce the Third World War, but they were sure to not interact with each other," he explained.

"So basically, we give them the cold shoulder?" Zay asks.

"Well, not, eh, yeah, actually, that's what we did," Cory answers.

"Well, it happens when your enemies are dirty and not polite," Farkle comments.

"Beg your pardon?" Zay asks.

"You heard me. When the loser side decides to not work under the winning side rules," Farkle adds.

"Just because they win doesn't mean they're right," Zay argues back.

"Well, that's how the world works," Farkle says, turning to look at him.

"You're hilarious, Tinman, what makes you think you're in the winning side?" Zay asks.

"Well, this Tinman has an IQ of over 170, so I pretty much know that I'm on the right side," Farkle argues.

"Surprise Tinman, Von Ardenne was a genius too, and he won the fucking Stalin Prize for making a microscope," Zay argues back before looking at Lucas, "Yeah, the cold war is a cool thing to study, sue me," he says to him.

"You do you, man," Lucas says, looking away.

"Ok," Cory says, trying to calm down his class, "Yes, Zay is right, not because you're smart means you're on the winning side, but I agree with Farkle here, a free world is a winning world," he expresses his opinion.

"Why I'm not surprised you're taking the side of your Golden boy?" Zay asks in a low tone.

Lucas turns to Zay in that second and put one of his hands on his shoulder, "Enough," he says in a caring tone.

"Lukey, I knew you loved me," Zay replies, taking his friend's hand.

Lucas looks around, ending in Maya, "I promise I have no idea what he's talking about," he says to her.

"Ok, so, for forty-four years, the two blocks fight against each other after the war, they prevent using any way of armed conflict, but they attacked each other on other fronts, like sports, nuclear developing, and of course, the space race," Cory explains.

.

As soon as classes ended, and Zay separates himself from Lucas and Maya, Farkle intercepted him.

"I honestly don't know if there is any valid reason for me to listen to you when we have different views on this subject, but Smackle asked me to do it, so make it worth," he states.

"We're not gonna get that far with that attitude," Zay states, "But if you're willing to listen to me, and not listen to me talk, but listen to me argue while we share a cup of coffee, I'm sure I can make you understand another point of view, besides the one you have now," he adds.

"Sounds good, let's give it a try," Farkle replies, "Go get us coffee, I will call my father's chauffeur, I know a place where we can talk," he adds before pulling his phone out.

.

After the drive, they both enter Forest Park.

Farkle sits on a bench, and Zay follows his lead, "So, make it worth," Farkle starts.

"Easy," Zay replies, "Remember our discussion about the cold war?" he asks.

"Yeah, a highlight of the day," Farkle replies.

"Remember how you defend the allies and how they are the good ones since they win?" Zay asks this time.

"Yeah? Please tell me you have a point," Farkle says, a bit bored of the chit chat.

"The allies fight for freedom, Farkle," Zay states, "Our freedom of choice, the chance to decide what we want, freedom of decision," he adds.

"This is not the same," Farkle replies, taking a sip of his coffee.

"It's not, but the sentiment is the same," he explains, "I'm fighting for the freedom of choice, you're fighting to force someone to accept something he didn't want to accept," he argues.

"So, I'm a Nazi now?" Farkle asks.

"You're not a Nazi, Farkle," Zay says, "But you need to notice that you're not the most open-minded guy in the world, and I mean it when it comes to Riley, not when it comes to you," he argues.

"So, I'm a Nazi for caring about my friends?" Farkle asks.

Zay stays silent for a second, "Eh, yeah, kinda," he finally admits.

"Bullshit," Farkle says and gets up, "I knew this was a mistake," he says before start walking away from Zay.

"Goodwill is not enough reason to force someone to fall for another person Farkle!" Zay shouts at him.

Farkle gives him the middle finger without looking at him.

Shawn walks into his living room, only to see his daughter sleeping on her secret boyfriend's lap. He softly pats Lucas's shoulder before sending him a text.

Lucas takes his phone and fastly reads the serious 'We need to talk.' Shawn sends him. He gently puts a kiss on Maya's forehead, "Hey, pancakes, do you mind finishing your nap in your room? I can't feel my legs," he softly whispers to her.

"Are you calling me fat?" Maya teases him.

"Never," he fastly answers, before smiling at her, "I don't want to die so soon," he adds very softly, only to receive a hit on his arm.

"Asshole," she says and gets up, "I hate you now, leave my house," she says before leaving to her room.

Lucas chuckles and gets up from the couch before walking to Maya's kitchen, "What can I do for you, Mr. Hunter?" he asks.

Shawn pours coffee in a couple of mugs and gives one to Lucas, "I had a fascinating conversation with your History teacher about his class," he starts.

"The whole Zay-Farkle thing," Lucas states.

"He knows something is happening with you and that you rejected his daughter," Shawn says, "He's my best friend, Lucas," he adds.

"I know Mr. Hunter," Lucas says, "But I made clear my intentions, and honestly, now is everything on Maya's hands, not mine," he adds.

"I don't want to keep secrets from him," Shawn says.

"Permission to speak freely, Mr. Hunter?" Lucas asks.

"Go ahead," Shawn says before taking a sip f his coffee.

"Do you think I want to hide?" Lucas asks, and before Shawn was able to answer, he cuts him first, "No, the answer is no, I don't want to hide, I love your daughter," he states, "There is nothing more than to be 'official' with her," he continues.

"But she doesn't want to hurt Riley," Shawn completes.

"But she doesn't want to hurt Riley," Lucas copies, taking a sip of his cup.

"I guess she doesn't know how you feel about hiding," Shawn inquiries.

"Oh, no, she knows that I don't want to hide, but I respect her opinion about, and if she wants to keep our relationship secret, let it be, no matter how much it kills me," he says, lifting his cup of coffee.

"I can drink to that," Shawn says with a smile, "Cheers," he adds.

Lucas looks at him dead in the eyes, "Funny, cheers," he replies.

While they enjoy their coffee, hiding around the corner, Maya's mind was happy that her father could get along with Lucas, the other half? Not so much. It mortifies her, knowing that she was hurting him by keeping them as a secret.

"Maybe it's time to do something about it," she softly says to herself.

Thursday, November 14, 2019

After another long day at school, Riley finally laid on her bed and decided to give her pain another chance to get depressed. What she didn't count was Maya.

For some reason, after three months of going low contact, Maya was in her bed next to her, making her pop the obvious question, "The Hell you're doing here?" she asks.

"Well, you don't want to talk to me, so I'm gonna force it, and yes, your mother let me in," Maya says, knowing that she will call for her mother.

Riley sits on her bed and looks at her 'best friend' in the eyes, "Fine, want to talk? Talk," she says.

"Riley, I miss you, and yes, I knew that Lucas wasn't interested in you," Maya says, under the shocked look of her best friend.

"Please tell me you had a reason for that," Riley softly says.

"I don't," Maya replies, "At least not a good reason," she adds.

"Do you regret it?" she asks.

Maya stays silent for a few seconds, "Do I regret what?" she asks.

"Keeping me from the truth?" Riley asks, feeling some tears start to flow from her eyes.

Maya goes silent again, taking her time to think her answer, "I do," she replies, "But would that make you not try to aim for Huckleberry?" she asks back.

"We pretty much know that I would go for him anyway," Riley says in a muffled chuckle.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," Maya softly says, "Remember when you told me you were growing?" she asks.

"Have a point?" Riley asks back.

"Sadly, I do," Maya answers, "It's part of growing up to let got some things, Riley," she adds, "Sometimes, what we want, it's not what the other person wants," she continues, thinking about how she was putting Lucas through keep them secret.

"And you think humiliation was the right way to teach me that?" Riley asks.

Maya looks at her best friend, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you being humiliated, didn't Lucas turn you down in a very delicate way?" she asks.

"It's not about how he turned me down. It's about me making a fool of myself because you thought that I needed a lesson," Riley argues back.

"The secret of life, Riley," Maya says, "Not because we want something to go like we want it to go, it will go that way," she adds.

Riley looked at Maya, shocked, "I think you've said enough," she says before getting up from her bed and walk to her door, "Please leave," she says, holding the door for her.

"Ok," Maya says before walking to the door. Once she was there, she stopped and looks at her best friend again, "Will this be the end of us?" she asks.

"We share a boyfriend for months, we can overcome this, but not right now," Riley says.

"That's sad," Maya says.

"I know," Riley replies.

"Bye," Maya finally says, leaving her best friend's room.

.

Lucas's phone started to ring when he was in the kitchen making sandwiches for him and Zay, "Hey, Zay, can you pick that up?" he asks him.

"Sure, I got it," Zay says, picking up his phone, noticing it was Maya, "Black, better, and way more handsome here, what can I do for you, dear Maya?" he asks.

"Hilarious, get my boyfriend on the phone, please," she says to him.

"Oh, Uhhhh, I love how you talk about him as your boyfriend," Zay teases her.

"Do you want to be punched tomorrow morning?" Maya asks.

"Gee," Zay replies before looking at Lucas came with food, "Lukey, your girlfriend on the phone, she wants to talk to her boyfriend, her words, not mine," he comments, teasing both of them.

"I'm so close to kicking you out," Lucas replies, "You're lucky I want revenge on Street Fighter 5," he adds, making his friend laugh, taking his phone from his hands, "Hey," he greets Maya.

"Hey," Maya says in a sad tone.

Lucas felt something was wrong and walk to his room, "Something wrong?" he asks.

"Not bad perse," Maya answers, "But things are not great," she adds.

"What happened?" Lucas asks.

"I talk to Riley," she says, making a pause, "About you," she adds.

"Oh," Lucas says, knowing that things weren't great with Riley, "And?" he asks.

"Well, our friendship is a bit bruised," Maya starts.

"I'm so sorry," Lucas apologizes.

"Don't, not your fault," she replies, "It's nobody's fault," she adds, "Well, maybe we have a bit of fault for making this a secret, but, well, you know how things are now," she adds.

"You don't want to lose her," Lucas says.

"What can I say? She's my best friend, and I fall for her first love," she states.

"Don't forget that her first love fall for you too," Lucas replies, smiling.

Maya stays silent for a few minutes, and Lucas mimics her, "Still there?" she asks.

"Yep," Lucas replies.

"Do you think one day I'm gonna feel better for stealing her first love?" she asks.

Lucas chuckles, "You're incredible," he says.

"Don't laugh, asshole, I'm serious," Maya recriminates him.

"Maya, you didn't steal anything from her," Lucas starts, "If you count things right, she stole me from you, since, you know, I was smitten since a certain blonde girl had a ten-second relationship with me in the subway," he adds, making Maya go silent for several seconds, "Maya?" he asks.

"God, now I feel awful for making you go through all this shit," she says.

"I told you this when we started," Lucas says, "If I have to burn every bridge in New York to be with you, I will soak them with gasoline to make them burn faster," he adds.

"God, you're so sap," she says, chuckling a bit.

"Glad I'm making you laugh, Ma'am," Lucas says, tipping an air hat.

[raendown]

Pairing: None Word count: 4702 Chapter: 4/4 Rated: T+ Summary: Months after the village is built Izuna is near his breaking point. Peace is nice, don’t get him wrong, but he could do without the pale shadow that follows behind him everywhere he goes. All he wants is to understand. What the hell is Tobirama’s obsession with watching him?

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 4

Stumping in to his friend’s home the next day, the first thing Madara does is sweep the building with his senses, breathing a sigh of relief to find no other signatures smoldering away in some hidden corner. Hashirama has already promised that both Mito and Tobirama will be busy with other engagements tonight but Madara knows as much as the next person how quickly plans can change.

Following the voice that calls to him from down the hall brings him in to the kitchen where he finds Hashirama with his hair pulled back and a frilly green apron tied around his front. It’s an incredibly domestic sight that drives an unexpected sliver through Madara heart. Not that he yearns for this man in any way; he won’t deny that Hashirama is attractive, any blind idiot can see that, but the giant stump is his best friend and Madara has never desired anything more from him. Rather the pang in his heart is a quiet wanting for something like this of his own. Now that he’s achieved the peace he always dreamed of he realizes more and more with every passing day that there still remains one glaring emptiness in his life. He’s lonely.

That’s not what he’s come here for, though. Nor are the questions in his mind the entire reason he’s come either but they are the foremost issue pressing at him and much more important than his desire to find a life partner.

“Just in time!” Hashirama chirps. “Could you set the table please? I forgot to before I started cooking and I don’t want the sauce to burn if I step away from it.”

“Hmph. What a great host, making me work for my dinner.” Even as he grumbles Madara moves to pull bowls and cups out of the cupboard. His eyes fall on the kettle steaming away and he quickly swaps the juice cups for teacups. Green tea with dinner sounds amazing after working himself in to several headaches with paperwork all afternoon, trying to coordinate several different projects while people swan in and out of his office indiscriminately.

“I’m just a little turned around tonight. When Mito told me that she was going to dinner with her friend in the Akimichi clan I thought ‘that’s alright, I’ll have dinner with Tobi’. But then Tobi said he was doing some sort of inspection? I think? He’s staying late at the office anyway and I didn’t want to be lonely so I thought this would be the perfect time to have a nice dinner with you!” As he chatters away he continues chopping vegetables and stirring in his pan, barely even seeming to draw breath. “Then this morning Mito said that her dinner was cancelled since her friend I think picked up a cold or something and that made me worry; you and her don’t really get along that well. So here I am trying to run around and figure out something else to cook that would be fast so we could all eat then you and I could go off on our own somewhere but then she got called over to have dinner with a different friend and I’m just–”

Madara cuts him off before the flood of words can drown them both. “Flustered, yeah, I can see that.” His companion sends him a painfully grateful look.

“You’re always so understanding, my friend.”

“Ugh.”

Doing his best to ignore the fond smile the other man directs at him, Madara sets the dishes out and retrieves the kettle only moments after it boils, transferring the water in to a teapot to properly brew them a batch of green tea. Then he sits himself at the table with a sigh and decides that subtlety is for people worried about offending others.

“Can I ask you about your brother?”

Hashirama's smile turns to curiosity. “Tobirama?”

“No, the other brother that you’ve hidden for years. I’ve uncovered your secret.” When his friend only continues to stare at him with a blank face Madara rolls his eyes. Sarcasm is wasted on this idiot. “Yes Tobirama. What is his deal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What is his deal? What’s his problem? Did you know that he’s been stalking Izuna around the village since we all moved in here?”

Judging by the look on Hashirama's face he hadn’t known that. Something pops in the pan behind him but the tension between his shoulders is painfully visible as he turns around, voice drifting back across the kitchen with an undertone of caution.

“Can you give me a little more detail?”

“More than you want, probably. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed this! Every time my brother’s in the tower yours is right there up his ass, staring at him from across the room, standing so close they’re practically breathing the same air. And when he’s not in the tower it’s even worse! Tobirama follows him all around the village like he thinks he’s being sneaky – except he doesn’t even bother to conceal his presence! That’s probably the biggest insult of the whole affair!”

As he listens Hashirama removes their dinner from the stove with slow movements. In a strangely quiet voice he asks, “How long did you say that this had been going on?”  

“From the day we all got here, as I understand it. I don’t remember if he was doing anything funny the few times we saw him before the migration, neither of us thought to pay any particular attention to him, but I know for sure he’s been stalking Izuna for months now.” Madara scowls. “For the most part Izu’s just confused. Irritated. He’s gotten pretty riled up a few times and said something about beating some sense in to his little shadow but an incident like that could be detrimental to clan relations right now.”

“Has Tobi seemed angry at all?” Hashirama's expression says that he already knows the answer but needs to ask the question anyway.

“No. Well, not at Izuna. He looks really pissed at whoever gets close to my brother and that’s probably the weirdest part. It’s started a few different rumors but Izuna’s convinced that it means Tobirama wants to kill him still and that he wants to do it himself.” As much as Madara can follow the sketchy logic behind that idea he still can’t make himself believe it.

Which is why he feels a very brief flash of vindication when Hashirama shakes his head to deny the half-assed theory. It’s always nice to be right, especially as an older sibling. The flash is very short-lived, however, in the face of how deeply troubled his best friend looks with every word he takes in.

“You’ve noticed some things that I haven’t it seems. I-…I should have been paying more attention. Especially with-” The words cut themselves off for the man to let out a morose sigh.

“Go on?”

“If he doesn’t seem angry then how would you say he does look?”  

“Uh?” Madara scratches the back of his head, trying to picture a face in his mind that he’s honestly never concentrated very hard on. “If I had to put a name to it? Sad. He doesn’t look violent or yearning or angry, he just looks, I don’t know, resigned I suppose.”

As though a great weight has just fallen upon his shoulders Hashirama closes his eyes and trembles. “Oh Tobi…”

“There’s something we’ve been missing about this, isn’t there?”

For a long time there is no answer. In silence Hashirama plates their dinner, his eyes far away from the food he carries over to the table. Only the fact that such a mood is incredibly unusual for him holds Madara's tongue until finally he watches the man fade back in to reality looking somehow even sadder than before. Wetness gathers and clings to his eyelashes, so different from the way he is normally given to massive crocodile tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

When he speaks again it is soft and solemn. His words are heavy with a pain that Madara both can and can’t understand, the pain of almost in a way he’s never quite experienced, a pain borne in the name of another you cannot help.

“During the final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju, I’m sure you remember what stopped the fighting.”

“The apparition,” Madara breathes. He can hardly believe that he’s forgotten.

“It was no apparition.” Hashirama drops his gaze to the chopsticks before him, fiddling at the ends without picking them up. “That really was my Tobi. Older but the same. He- it was- it’s hard to explain. You know how smart he is and how he likes to research seals. Apparently years from now he will – did? – invent a seal allowing him to travel back in time and he used it to…to…”

Once more the words stop coming but this time Madara understands as he listens to Hashirama's voice crack and break on a muffled sob.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. He jolts when Hashirama finally meets his eyes, stomach clenching as he takes in the pain and helpless despair staring back at him. He has seen that look before.  

“He travelled back in time to kill himself.”

“What!?” Madara sways in his seat with disbelief.

Hashirama brings his hands in close to wring them together. “It’s the truth! And he said the most awful things! Madara, he saved Izuna’s life that day. He – the one from the future – he said something about killing Izuna and that it ‘broke the world’. Said that he would rather kill himself so that I could keep my dream!”

So many different emotions and thoughts and reactions all clash together in Madara's chest he has to clamp one hand over his stomach for fear that it all might come spilling out over the table with shock. It’s too much to take in at once. He remembers that they’d had their speculations, of course, over what had really been going on that day. Yet he also remembers that it had seemed so unimportant in the face of peace, of lifelong dreams coming true, securing the future for his clan and the only brother left at his side.

“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” he mumbles. “There were two Tobirama because one was him from the future. He was trying to kill himself in the past.”

“Yes! That’s why he disappeared! Or that’s what Tobi says, anyway.”

“Right. And he was trying to kill himself because…he didn’t want…to kill Izuna? But he didn’t kill Izuna.” Madara scrunches his face with confusion, not entirely following. He distinctly remembers seeing his brother this morning and the man was most certainly not dead.

“No I know that. That’s the point. I told you it’s complicated!”

When all he does is cock his head to one side and frown Hashirama sighs and wrings his hands tighter.

“In the life that the older Tobirama lived he did kill Izuna in that battle. But because of that Izuna’s death somehow kicked off a different set of events that led to this village failing, I think. The destruction of my dream. So he came back in time to stop himself from killing Izuna…by killing himself instead. For me.” Another sob cracks his voice and Hashirama closes his eyes.

Madara can understand why. The reality of what he hasn’t known comes crashing down over his head like a mountain crumbling to bury him underneath the hurts he’s had no idea his friend is carrying around. It’s hard to decide what to freak out about first. Should he give in to the shadow of panic that Izuna dies in another world, would have in this one if not for the future’s intervention? Or should he close his eyes in solemn solidarity with the idea of having another love you so much they will damn themselves to lift you in to the light? Either way he has a very strong urge to go home and hug his brother tightly.

Although he isn’t sure he could bear to explain why at the moment.

“So he’s...what? Following Izu around and trying to find a way to apologize? Atone?” Guilt touches him for the way Hashirama flinches at his words but he needs to know as much as he can and this is a conversation he doesn’t wish to put his friend through a second time.

“No, I don’t think so.” Hashirama frowns. “I should have been paying more attention. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came here.”

“Well then what do you think he’s up to? There has to be some kind of reason he’s stalking my brother and I get that it’s probably connected to what happened but I can’t see exactly how.”

“If I know my brother then…then I think he’s trying to protect Izuna. He was so worried that something might still happen, convinced that if Izuna died in any way it would bring everything we’ve built crashing down. It would be so like him to take it upon himself to make sure that doesn’t happen. Oh, my Tobi…”

As Hashirama crumples in his seat Madara fights through the ever-increasing levels of shock keeping him rigid where he sits, dragging himself up out of the fog through sheer force of will to walk around the table and awkwardly pat his friend on the back. Comfort has never been a great skill of his. Trying to do it while he is still reeling himself leaves him feeling more awkward than ever but at least Hashirama seems to appreciate his graceless efforts. After taking a few deep breaths to collect himself the man turns to look up at him with shining grateful eyes that immediately send Madara scurrying back to his side of the table and practically throwing himself in to the chair as though it might shield him from any possibility of an unwarranted hug.

“Protecting him, that’s unexpected,” Madara admits once he is settled. “I think I might have jokingly suggested that but I would never have believed he was really playing guard dog.”

“My brother is not a guard dog!”

“He’s appointed himself as one,” he corrects, perhaps a bit harshly.

“Ah. Yeah. I suppose you’re right. He seemed to be doing so much better since we came to the village. And he was talking to me so well before, confiding. I never would have thought he’d slid back this far.” Hashirama shakes his head.

Loathe as Madara is to be the one pointing it out, he has to ask. “Are you sure he was confiding in you? Or was he just putting you off because he didn’t want you to carry his burdens?”

The widening of Hashirama's eyes tears at his heart and he is more than happy to let the conversation taper off for a short while, both of them eating in silence. He regrets starting their night off with such a terrible subject, mentally kicking himself for his lack of patience, making it even more of a relief when his friend eventually begins to haltingly murmur about something that happened at the tower that afternoon.

He does his best to be a better friend for the rest of their visit. By the time he goes home a couple of hours after dinner Hashirama has stopped looking as though he might burst in to tears at a moment’s notice, so there is that. Tobirama is probably in for a nasty surprise of a conversation when his brother catches up with him and yet Madara can’t bring himself to feel guilty for that. If the man truly is so caught up in his obsession it will probably do him some good to have the one he trusts most knock some sense in to that spiky head of his.

Walking home in the dark, Madara closes his eyes to let his feet continue on the path they know by heart while he stretches his senses out, picking through the confusing mass of signatures as best he can until he finds the one that burns the brightest in his eyes. It comes as no surprise to find Izuna waiting for him at home. Since he knows that his brother is probably waiting impatiently for the answers they’ve been wanting so badly he picks up his pace and hurries along, nodding to the voices that murmur greetings without stopping to chat as Hashirama has been encouraging him to do lately.

Building a rapport with their citizens can wait. This is a more immediate issue.

Izuna springs off the couch as soon as the front door opens, immediately freezing and sliding back down on to the cushions in an effort to seem as though he is only changing positions. Madara hopes he remembers to tease the idiot for that later.

“So how was dinner?” his brother murmurs with affected nonchalance.

“He knew the reason, to answer the question you really wanted to ask.”

Watching his younger sibling literally trip over his own feet trying to lunge off the couch a second time is just the sort of thing that Madara needs to lift his own mood after spending all evening trying to repair someone else’s. Izuna scowls and grumbles in to the tatami mats, crawling across to roll himself under the kotatsu blanket instead and glare until Madara joins him, wheezing with his efforts to contain the barks of laughter trying to spill out.

Amusement can only last so long in the face of such serious news, however. Only a minute or so after he sits down and tucks himself in Madara is talking a deep breath to sober himself again as he tries to sort through everything he’s learned and figure out how to pass it on.

Izuna listens with the sort of serious expression he normally reserves for war meetings and battlefields, brows drawn towards each other in a deep frown that wrinkles the sides of his mouth as well. Though it isn’t exactly surprising that he is able to keep himself from interrupting his silence is almost creepy considering how vocal he’s been about this entire affair since it started. All the frantic energy that he’s clearly been holding inside as he waits at home draining away slowly, bit by bit, gradually replaced by a different sort of tension with everything that Madara has to say. When the tale is over he crawls around the table to lean against his brother’s side.

“Well,” he murmurs, “at least he’s not secretly in love with me.”

“That’s all you have to say!?” Madara squawks.

“Honestly I don’t know what to say to any of that. Somehow the fate of this village rests of my survival? That’s a little strange to think about even if I can sort of imagine why.”

Brought up short, Madara looks down at the head nuzzling in to his shoulder. “You can?”

“Yeah, easily. If you lost me can you really say that you wouldn’t go a little ape shit?” Izuna looks up at him and waits until he concedes with a wry nod then adds, “Now imagine if you were somehow talked in to making peace with the man who killed me.”

The very thought makes him shudder. It’s impossible to imagine a world where he could allow himself to be somehow tricked in an action so terrible – and yet he realizes with a jolt that this is exactly what they have asked of both their clans, of every clan who agrees to move here and call themselves a shinobi of Konohagakure. All that differentiates himself from so many others is the penance he would pay for the powers gifted to him by the Sharingan. Izuna is right; the death of his most precious person would drive him over the brink of madness. Perhaps not right away but the descent would be inevitable from that moment and the process made faster if he were forced to interact with the one who took so much from him.

“So how do you want to handle this?” Madara asks, shaking away the what-ifs he hopes he never has to deal with.

“First thing I think I need to do is go scream in his stupid face. What the hell is he thinking? I mean this whole thing is crazy but if what he did to – what did you call it? – break the world was to kill me in that battle then when his older self came back through time to attempt sui-murder-cide then wouldn’t that have, like, changed the course of events right then? Things should be fine now. I think.” Scrunching up his brow, Izuna’s eyes fall to one side as he tries to think his way through what he’s just said.

Having had a few more hours to wrap his head around all these strange concepts gives Madara the confidence to nod that his sibling has spoken correctly. “That’s how I understand it.”

“Right, so then everything should be fine now. No need to panic. Definitely no need to be following me around like some overenthusiastic babysitter.”

“Be gentle. We both know that I’m the one who’ll have to listen to Hashirama if you aren’t.”

“No promises.” Izuna sits up straight with a sharp look in his eyes.

Madara rolls his own. “At least wait until tomorrow then. He’s probably going to have his hands full with his own brother tonight and I doubt either of us want to be around for that flood of tears.”

Pausing for both of them to shudder, Izuna leans over to rest against his shoulder again.

“Good point,” he admits. “I suppose it can wait until tomorrow. He’s always right there when I get in to the tower so kami knows he probably comes looking for me in the mornings even before I think to check whether he’s around. The second I find him, though, he’s getting the third degree.”

“If you think you can pin him down long enough to listen then more power to you,” Madara scoffs.

As it turns out, the task is both easier and harder than either of them expect. For once in his life Tobirama comes when he’s called, stepping in to the office when Izuna hails him the next morning and looking entirely unperturbed to be shut in to a room with two determined looking Uchiha. Now that he knows to look for the signs Madara notices the man even relaxing a small bit. If not for what he’s learned recently he might never guess that relief is from seeing Izuna locked away safe from the rest of the world.

When the focus of his obsession demands to be left alone Tobirama refuses him flat out with no hesitation, not even a hint of surprise. Clearly there had indeed been another conversation the night before.

“I can handle myself,” Izuna groans after the two of them have gone in circles of demand and refusal several times.

“Your skill indeed is a close match to my own but this is not something I am willing to chance.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Tobirama’s answer brings silence like the cutting edge of a blade.

“Your survival is essential to the survival of my brother’s dream and I will do whatever I have to in order to protect that. If that means I must give my life in place of yours then so be it.” For such profound words he speaks with the lightness of a man who has spent hours considering them. The ease of total belief in a chosen path.

In the wake of his declaration neither of the Uchiha siblings are able to find words for quite some time. Tobirama, strangely, waits contentedly as they try to find their bearings. Whether because he feels better here where he can keep an eye on the one he so desperately needs to protect or simply because he wants to get this over with now so no one will track him down again later, all he does is fold his arms and wait with the air of a man not particularly in a hurry to be anywhere else. Which is ridiculous. He probably has more to do than either of them put together. How he manages to complete his duties around all the stalking is just yet another mystery.

After several minutes have passed Izuna is the first to recover, visibly bracing himself to speak.

“For your brother, huh? I guess I can understand that motivation. I don’t like it, still think you’re insane and need some help, but I can understand. Look, if you’re going to follow me around like a creep anyway at least just come sit in the room with me or whatever.”

“What!?” Madara is jolted back in to motion with indignation. “You’re just going to let him keep stalking you!?”

“He’s going to do it anyway! At least if he stops pretending to be sneaky about it, I don’t know, it would just lower the creepy factor for me.” Izuna shrugs.

Tobirama’s head falls to one side as he contemplates the offer, a little dubious, but in the end all he does is nod and turn to leave without another word. He has an obsession but he also has things to do and when they’re all piled on top of each other here in the tower it’s only too easy for him to monitor Izuna’s chakra for any signs of distress or danger. Considering his sensitivity it would not be outside the bounds of his ability to keep track of every chakra signature that enters and leaves the tower to watch for possible threats.

“Are you insane?” Madara snaps the moment the door is closed, uncaring whether or not Tobirama can still hear them through the wood. His sibling rubs at the space between his brows with a long suffering expression.

“Maybe, who knows? I meant it when I said I could sort of understand his motivation but…think about it. Rather than following behind all the time or hiding in the shadows, if he’s there in the room then it would all feel a lot more normal.” The hand falls for his eyes to linger on the doorway. “And if he’s there in the room then maybe we can show him that I really can handle myself. There’s nothing for him to worry about. Or maybe convince him to get help or some shit.”

The two of them share a look. Madara holds the other’s eyes for as long as he can but in the end he is forced to concede to this as well. It isn’t like he has any better plans himself.

Eventually Izuna wanders off back to his own office as well, leaving Madara alone to stand by the window and look out over the buildings around them without truly seeing anything. All he sees is the sky, blue and never-ending, a freedom he might never have been able to admire again if not for the last piece of his family left in this world. Izuna isn’t the only one who can see merit in Tobirama’s motivations, hard as that is to admit.

Something dark and heavy lies faint on the edge of the horizon, a storm that looks to be coming their way. As he examines the shape of it Madara can’t help his inner Hashirama from comparing it to the climate hanging over the near future. Life promises to be very strange for a while, stranger even than it has been for the last few months, and it chafes that none of them can predict what the outcome will be. He knows as well as any farmer that a storm does not have to be a bad thing. Crops need the rain, summer heat needs to be broken, assassination targets need to be driven off the road in to vulnerable places like roadside inns. Many things might follow a storm.

He can only hope that when the rains pass the sun will come again for all of them. Strangely, against everything he has been raised to believe, he finds himself hoping the same for Tobirama.

[capsfirestarter]

Owen’s Change of Heart: An Owen Shaw Love Story Part 9

Pairing: Owen Shaw x Original Female Character

Time line: after Fate of the Furious and Hobbs & Shaw

Warning: None

Word Count: 1591

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update this story, life got pretty busy recently but I will try my best to update for the next parts.

Part 9:

It’s been a few days since Owen proposed to me and I found out I was pregnant. I was in the living room with Mia, Letty, and Ramses looking at wedding planning books while Brian, Dom, Owen, Tej, and Rome were talking in the kitchen. I was looking at a magazine for wedding dresses when I started to feel sick and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. Owen quickly noticed this and followed behind me pulling my hair into a ponytail and rubbing my back. I finally stopped throwing up and Owen helped me up while he flushed the toilet.

“Let’s get you some ginger ale and take a break from the wedding planning alright.” Said Owen

“Why are we planning the wedding now when we don’t have a date set yet?”

“That was what I was talk to your brothers as you like to call them. Well except for Brian since he is your adoptive brother.” Said Owen

“Hey Owen, is Care okay?” Said Mia

“She’s alright now but she needs some ginger ale though.” Said Owen

“Alright I can get that for her while you get her comfortable on the couch cause the rest of us want to do something special for you two.” Said Mia

“Thank you, Mia.” Said Owen

“Anything to help my sister in law and future brother in law.” Said Mia

Mia went to get me some ginger ale while Owen helped me back into the living room. I was feeling a little bit lightheaded but when I looked up, I seen Hattie, Deckard, Magdalene, Hobbs, and Mr. Nobody in the huge living room with everyone else.

Owen and I looked a bit confused before Letty went to say something.

“I know that you two are confused but since you two are getting married probably before the baby is born. We all decided to give you a small engagement party here since there’s plenty of room.” Said Letty

“Thank you, all of you. Now I know some of you had a hard time accepting Owen into this mixed family of ours, but what I did for him and his family was for a reason. I had to give up my life as a nurse in order to help protect Owen from Cipher because of what she forced him to do. Mr. Nobody isn’t the only one with friends in high places because you see, Magdalene offered me a job after I had Owen and I pardoned for what we did in the past as her personal bodyguard. After a while of working for her, she offered to buy this building for me to open my shop and build this loft above it. We all done some pretty messed up shit in our lives, but we must move on from it and go on with our lives. Now I’m going to marry the one person I can’t live without as well as having his child. I really couldn’t ask for anything else but to have my family here to celebrate. To family.”

“To family.” Everyone said all together

As we were eating and enjoying the celebration, Letty came up to me with a smile on her face. I was a bit confused until Owen nudged me to go with her.

“Go on love, she has something for you.” Said Owen

“Okay Owen.”

I went with Letty and followed her into my bedroom that I now share with Owen. I looked a Letty when she pulled out a big box from under the bed. I walked up to Letty and stood next to the bed.

“Dom and I were going through some old boxes a few days ago to make room for little Brian’s bedroom when I found my old wedding dress from when Dom and I got married in Mexico before I lost my memories. I want you to wear it since it will be big enough for when you start showing.” Said Letty

“Oh my god, Letty, thank you. Now I need something old, something new, and something blue.”

“Care, you truly have changed Owen’s heart and mind because when I knew him, he was nothing but a cruel heartless person. But after we all found out that he was forced to do what he did, I started to feel sorry for him. Now he has you and a new baby on the way, but as your sister in law, I want you to be careful during this pregnancy since it’s your first child.” Said Letty

“I will. Owen and I decided to hold off on having sex for a while.”

“Are you two sure you can wait a whole 9 months before having sex again?” Said Letty

“We can handle it.”

“Letty, Care, hurry up or we’re starting to party without you!” Said Rome

“We’re coming so shut your big ass mouth, Roman!”

Letty and I went back to the others. When we got to the others, I stood next to Owen, who wrapped an arm around my waist and placing a hand protectively over my stomach. We all chatted with each other until Mr. Nobody came up to Owen and I.

“Well I never thought that anyone could change Owen’s heart to do the right thing but Caroline, you got yourself one lucky man and congratulation on the new baby. I know you two will care, love, and protect your child.” Said Mr. Nobody

“Mr. Nobody, if it wasn’t for Care taking care of me while I was recovering in the hospital and helping my brother and I with getting Dominic’s son back from Cipher, I would have never saw the light of things.” Said Owen

“I made a good impression on him and his family when I took down Cipher.”

“That you have, Caroline. How has the morning sickness been treating you?” Said Magdalene

“I have my days, but Owen makes sure that I take it easy.”

“Well that’s good to know that my youngest son is taking care of his future wife and soon to be mother of his child.” Said Magdalene

“Magdalene, I don’t mean to sound rude but if you are going to start doubting Owen’s ability of being a husband and a father then you’re going to be walking on thin ice cause, I will not tolerate disrespect in my home.”

Everyone looked at me in silence and in shock from what I said to Magdalene. Magdalene just smirk and gave me a hug which made me confused. I looked at Owen to see a smile on his face when Magdalene pulled away.

“You kept proving yourself worthy of being in this family every day.” Said Magdalene

“I don’t put up with no one’s bullshit. Isn’t that right, Dom?”

“That’s right. When Brian first became a criminal by letting me go, Care just got out of high school, but Mia wanted to help her get into Med School, so Care stayed at our house with Mia. Care had a hard time in school because of what Brian did so when we did the heist in Rio, Han and Gisele taught Care on how to defend herself.” Said Dom

“Now that’s impressive, but where did she get the ability to smash someone’s head in with a candle stick holder?” Said Magdalene

“When I have so much anger and rage towards someone for a long time and I can’t handle it anymore, I lash out on that person and become violent.”

“Well, now you and Owen can be happy.” Said Hattie

“It better stays that way. I want everything to be perfect for our wedding. I may have an idea of when we should have the wedding. Let’s have the wedding three months from today.”

“That’s perfect, love. Brian, I know that have caused a lot of pain for you and your family, but your sister has shown me that there’s more to life then living a life a crime. You may not be able to fully forgive me for that, but maybe we could get along for Care’s sake as well as our new baby on the way.” Said Owen

“As long as you don’t hurt my sister in any way then I’m fine with calling you my brother in law.” Said Brian

After we all relaxed and opened the gifts that everyone brought, Owen made me a nice relaxing bath with candles lit on the counter by the bathroom sink. I had Owen massage my shoulders and back before helping me out of the bathtub. Owen wrapped my robe around me and helped me to the room.

“Go lay down on the bed while I pick out a movie for us to watch. I know it’s okay to have sex while pregnant, but I want you to get over the morning sickness before we try to do that again.” Said Owen

“I completely understand your concern Owen, but right now I want to focus on planning our wedding and making appointments for my pregnancy.”

“I know. We can just go to bed if you’re tired.” Said Owen

“I want to get some rest right now. We’ll figure out things in the morning.”

“Okay, love.” Said Owen

Owen and I got under the covers and cuddled up to each other. I was laying on my side with a hand on my stomach and Owen’s arm top of my hand. Owen gave me a kiss on top of my head before going to sleep.

“Good night, Owen. I love you.”

“Good night, Caroline. I love you too.” Said Owen

@lukeevansandjdmobession

[thedistantstorm]

Come Together 06

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Devrim Kay/Marc

Warnings: less smut, angst, homophobia, domestic violence (mentioned) I’m so sorry guys, there is some actual plot happening and I’m cruel.

“A young city planner set his eyes on an older militiaman. He was unkempt and terribly forward. The militiaman had class. He wasn’t interested.”

“Clearly,” Marc tells their friends. “That’s why they decided to get married.”

(A story told in bits and pieces.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

-/

Their first fight comes five months into their relationship. And unlike previous relationships and partners past, it’s not some meaningless lovers quarrel over who’s turn it was to do something or plan a date.

It was bound to happen eventually: Marc’s mother running into them on the street, in the market, bright and early one Saturday morning. This had slowly become part of their weekly routine, heading down from one of their places, getting groceries and produce, and then cooking together in the evening.

But Marc had made a fatal error, withdrawing from Devrim’s arm as though he had the plague, introducing his mother, Esther, to Devrim. Introducing Devrim to her - as one of his good friends. Devrim was certainly cordial, very much his usual brand of polite and charismatic, and the conversation itself went off without a hitch. Well, almost.

“And your lady friend? Margaret, you said?”

“Oh,” Marc answered, his willing his face to remain neutral before sighing, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. She’s great. We’re very happy together.”

“You’ll have to bring her to dinner. We haven’t seen her in forever.”

“Her work keeps her away, as I’ve told you. She’s always so busy, I hardly get to see her, myself.” Panic lances through him, but it’s not himself he’s worried about.

His lies cut through Devrim far sharper than any knife.

“Pardon my interruption, but I believe I’ve forgotten a prior engagement,” Devrim had lied, excusing himself just as Marc’s mother - a similarly bronze skinned woman with long, sun-kissed hair - was chastising her boy for not calling home as much as she liked, “You’ll have to excuse me,” He’d said, handing Marc their groceries. 

Marc looked at him in mounting concern, but Devrim’s eyes were dark. Closed off. If he knew Devrim was furious, he didn’t let on, only nodding at key points in his mother’s monologue, watching his partner’s back as he walked briskly down the street.

The very moment his mother let him off - on the promise that he’d call sometime during the week, he all but ran back to Devrim’s flat. The door was unlocked. Perhaps it wasn’t-

His overnight bag was packed and sitting in the doorway. Devrim would even not look at him, his eyes gazing at the wall across from his couch, hands shaking, wrapped around a mug of tea. 

“Take your things and leave.”

“It’s not-”

“Now.”

-/

Devrim isn't at his post the following Monday. All of Marc's messages go unanswered. He needed to see him face-to-face. This wasn't a conversation - a situation to explain over messaging. 

He knew it was doubtful that Dev would be in their usual booth during their lunch hour, yet he still makes a point to look anyway. He checks the entire seating area to make sure that his sniper isn't sitting elsewhere, trying to throw him off. Devrim isn't. Marc will have to try again tomorrow.

By Wednesday, he goes to Devrim’s flat. Stands there for over an hour, like an idiot, knocking every so often. He doesn’t hear any sound inside, and resolves that he must not be in there. Which is strange. Devrim is always home on Wednesday nights. They show some history special he adores - Marc has taken to falling asleep against him while he gushes about Golden Age pyrotechnics and battle strategies.

By Thursday, he’s brave enough to approach the Militia officer who always stands opposite of Devrim in the mornings. Before he can get a word out, she smiles apologetically. “Devrim asked me not to speak with you if you came looking for him,” She informs him tightly.

“Is he alright?”

“I really shouldn’t say.”

“I did something stupid. He must think-” Marc shakes his head. “I’m awful. I just… even if he’s done with me, I want to explain.”

The woman looks him over carefully. “Wait. You did something?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Marc tilts his head, eyebrows knitting closer in his confusion. He composes himself. “Yes. I was an idiot. I handled a situation very poorly.”

“Wow. Uh, okay.” The militia-woman adjusts her hat, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. “Honestly, I thought he broke up with you.”

“What?” That makes his heart leap into his throat like nothing else. Certainly he considered it a rather heavy possibility, and really, this whole thing could have been avoided if he’d just told Devrim. But until he had the opportunity to explain himself, he was desperately trying to pretend like that wasn’t the most likely outcome of the situation. For his own sanity.

The woman rambles on, ignorant of his internal struggle. “Well, I mean, you’re getting to the whole committed stage. Devrim doesn’t do commitment. Nothing ever hurts him. He just doesn’t get that attached, y’know? It’s weird for a guy so polite, but I guess that’s why he’s always so mellow.” She waves a hand. “Anyway. This changes things. Maybe he’ll actually get his act together and want to marry you.”

“We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months!” Marc exclaims. He’s relatively certain the higher possibility lies with him being excommunicated than marriage at this rate.

The woman pats his shoulder, laughing nervously. “Shh, keep it down! Look, my CO would be pissed if he saw me talking to you. Just… meet me at the combini at noon, okay? I know where he is.”

Marc nods. “Okay,” He says. “I-” He sighs. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Dev will be sooo mad at me.”

-/

Marc has met Devrim's partner for Tower patrol duty before. Zara is a bit brash, talks before she thinks, but really does mean well. Devrim is fond of her in the way one was of a little sister. She dips into the chair across from Marc as though she's in a hurry. 

"Here's the deal. He showed up Monday and volunteered for an assignment. They sent him out on the first rover headed for Old Russia. I didn't even know they sent us there, but apparently this was some Vanguard assistance thing. He'll be back tomorrow morning." She pauses. "Running away is kind of his thing. Man's afraid of his own feelings, I think." 

She pulls a drink from her pack, and Marc pushes his container of fries closer to the center of the table. She shoves a few in her mouth around saying, "Look. Usually I'm sitting here with him, telling him he should be talking through his breakups. My track record is way worse than his and I actually want to settle down. Anyway," She flops a fry in her hand, conversationally, "Usually he's the one who messes up. Forgets a date on purpose, then sends you a breakup message so polite you're thanking him before you know he's left you in the dirt. It's savage."

"But that's not what happened."

"Yeah," Zara says. "So what did happen?"

"My mother." He sighs, continuing before he loses his nerve. "She's not… she doesn't know I'm attracted to men."

"Exclusively?"

He rubs his left temple, hazel eyes tired and red. "Does it matter?" He sighs. "I introduced Devrim as a friend."

Her jaw hangs. "Shut up."

"What?"

"He did that to the last guy he was with. Or maybe the one before that? I can't remember. Wow, karma is a bitch." Zara leans back, watching Marc's expression sober. "Sorry, sorry, continue."

"My parents think I'm seeing this woman named Margaret. It's just… better, that way. Keeps Mother from nosing around in my business, makes her and my father think I'm on the straight and narrow.

"No." Zara looks at him, like there's something on his face. Staring almost hard enough that it hurts. "Oh. My. Light."

"Yeah."

"So he thinks-"

"Yeah."

"I gotta hand it to you. You really fucked this up."

"Definitely. I think he's gonna dump me."

"I wouldn't be so sure." She examines a fry before popping it in her mouth. "He's got no problem sending a breakup message." She doesn't explain the part where he'd seemed almost desperate to get sent out on an op, or the way his usual neutral, polite expression was saddened and not even the squad's teasing could cheer him up. "I think he needs some space to figure himself out. And I think you need to figure out your next step."

"Next step?"

"You gonna let your folks think you're seeing a woman named Margerie?"

It's Margaret, but Marc doesn't bother correcting her. He gets the point. "I mean-"

"Let's assume it goes well: you explain, Dev forgives, yada yada. You gonna live like this forever?" Her expression turns soft. "I wouldn't think you're here because you want to see it end."

"I'm not."

She smiles. "Good. Devrim will be back tomorrow before noon. He has afternoon rota with me. I'd try and catch him afterwards." She probably pulls the container over to herself, picks it up, and slides out of the booth. "Thanks for the fries."

Marc nods. Normally he'd be upset, but he'd hardly had any himself. Surely Zara can see the gears turning in his brain.

-/

Devrim spends his week doing what he knows best: fieldwork. Assisting Guardians in translating and understanding Fallen transmissions, using those to determine and rig their bases for detonation. Sniping the stragglers from afar while the Guardians dance about like elegant death - and dancing - machines.

He keeps busy. It helps clear his mind. Helps him re-establish his footing. Gives him time to analyze without obsessing. Not that he's obsessing, no. He's not that type, but… If it were really bothering him that much.

Which, it clearly is, as much as he'd like to admit otherwise. It's not until the convoy is on it's day-long expedition home that he lets himself think about what he knows from Marc's conversation with his mother.

At the time, all he'd been able to think about was this other person she'd mentioned, vehemently trying to ramp down the hurt at not being introduced as his partner, which-

Really, that was a whole other thing entirely, and Devrim had already laid awake at night plenty thinking about why that bothered him so. He might be fussy about entering relationships, and selective about who he keeps around, but he's not the type to fall in love. He's kind and doting, sure, but when it comes to forever he's paralyzed, afraid of making an irreversible, incorrect choice.

And yet, he was unmistakably hurt when Marc didn't tell his mother they were together. Normally, it would be a win-win. This was… 

Right. Getting his brain back on track, he thinks back to the conversation. All of Marc's cues, his body language. They were easily discernible as someone trying to cover up a lie, and no doubt, Marc was lying, but the lie itself was up for debate.

And now that he wasn't so livid he thought he'd scream, he supposed they needed to talk.

-/

A hand grabs him as he's headed into work. He's late, but it's better than nothing. "No. Oh no you don't. You look like you're going to keel over. Sit down."

A half-drank cup of coffee is pressed into his hands, and his rear immediately feels the cold of the concrete sinking in. He sighs, feeling his chest rattle with it.

"What happened?"

He doesn't answer that, instead asking, "Won't the squad be mad if they see me talking to you?"

"Whatever. I'm not wearing yesterday's clothes and look like I'm having an allergic reaction." She looks around. The man who stands opposite her and isn't Devrim shakes his head. "Zara, you know how you never understand why you get in trouble?"

"Can't leave someone who needs help. You know me," She grins, shrugging. "Not my style."

He looks up into deep brown eyes, flecked amber in concern. "I'm fine."

"Right, and I'm Ikora Rey."

"She's a Warlock, and I've never seen you both in the same place. Might be true," Comes the call of the other militiaman.

"Ha ha, Mitchell." She rolls her eyes, crouching down in front of Marc, so they're closer, whispering, "You've been crying. What happened?"

"I told my folks."

She rises, swift and serious. "I'm taking my lunch early," She announces. "Cover me."

"Zar-"

"I know, I know.  I'll owe you one." She winks.

-/

It takes the younger patrolwoman until the end of the day to talk to him. She's surprisingly attentive to her duty instead of mouthing off at him and chattering about every new weapon released by the bigger foundries. She caves though, like a guilty child, eventually holding his gaze.

"You're gonna be pissed at me," Zara says.

The brim of his uniform hat makes his eyes look exceptionally blue. He narrows them at her and she squirms. "I take it you've meddled while I was away?"

"Uh, a bit," The female officer admits, nervously.

"You're uncomfortable. How much is a bit, exactly?"

"A bit," She grits back, before looking him dead in the eyes. "How much do you like him?"

"A bit," He quips, unable to tell if there’s a tease in there or if she’s being serious. She’s acting suspiciously.

Crossing her arms, she asks, "Even though he lied to his mother?"

Serious, then. He adopts a warning tone. "Zara-"

She interrupts. "Answer the question. If you thought he cheated on you, this would have been cut and dry."

He waits for passers by to be out of earshot before answering, "Why does it sound like you're on his side?"

"Okay. First of all, I didn't think he was going to listen to me. But apparently he's serious about you. So if you're not serious about him, I want to know so I can do damage control."

"Come out with it," Devrim snaps, a sinking feeling in his gut. "What did you do?"

"We talked. He explained what had happened, that his folks aren't exactly… let's say kosher with him being interested in men. I might have said something about how if he wanted to be serious with you, that meant embracing it, even if they'd be unhappy."

His jaw tics. "And?"

"Yeah." She makes a concerning face. "Wasn't kosher at all." Zara looks up at him. "They, weren't good to him. He said he knew it wouldn't go well, but he didn't think they'd be so extreme."

"Extreme, how?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, Kay. I can feel the murderous rampage-"

He crosses the cobblestone walkway, to be at a more conversational distance apart. She almost wishes he’d stay back, because him yelling is far less intense than the drop in his tone and his focused attention. "I will not. Explain yourself."

"I took my break early. Walked him to his flat for some clothes, then dropped him off at mine. Everything's wrecked. He called them last night, it went south, they invited themselves over. He'd left when they started throwing things and having a tantrum. Really childish of them, if you ask me."

His hands find her shoulders, decorum the only thing preventing him from shaking her. "Tell me he's unharmed."

Zara pats his scruffy cheek. "You do have it bad," She marvels. "Physically, he's fine."

[laminy]

snippet of joe and rami getting back on bens birthday earlier than expected, did gwil need to be talked into letting joe get into bens bed to surprise him? (did gwil secretly want to give ben his birthday morning fluffy moment in bed)

Gwil looks over at Ben, who’s curled up next to him, thumb up by his mouth, and smiles. He reaches out, hesitantly running his fingers through Ben’s hair - he wants to let him sleep in, but he also wouldn’t mind it that much if Ben woke up right now for a repeat performance of the night before; Gwil’s mouth practically waters just thinking about it. Ben just shifts a bit, but doesn’t open his eyes, so Gwil carefully pushes the blankets back and stands up, walking towards the door. He yawns, rubbing at his eyes, and then jumps when he hears the buzzer of the door. He has absolutely no bloody clue who’s going to be trying to get into Ben’s flat at this time of day, and assumes it’s just some drunk kid who's having an extended New Year’s celebration. He walks into the bathroom, but the buzzer goes again. And again. Gwil groans in frustration and hurries over to the door. “There are people trying to sleep in here,” he snaps, “so go bother someone else.”

There’s silence, and then: “well, that’s a great fucking way to welcome home your best friend, Gwil.”

Gwil frowns a bit in confusion, and then has to grin. “Joe?” he asks.

“Oh, so you didn’t forget us,” Joe says. “Why don’t you let us in before we freeze to death, Jesus Christ.” 

Gwil hits the buzzer to let them in, and then he can hear their heavy footsteps on the stairs, their suitcases banging. He’s just about to open the door when he looks down and realizes he’s absolutely naked. One of them tries the door and Gwil steps back a bit. “Sorry,” he says, “I need to put on some pants.”

“What?” Joe asks. “No, Gwil, come on.”

“Sorry!” Gwil hurries back into the bedroom, grabbing his boxer-briefs and a pair of trousers, tugging them on. While he’s looking around for a jumper, he looks over at Ben, who’s still asleep. He smiles and thinks about waking him, but doesn’t; it might be a nice surprise in a few minutes, once Rami and Joe have time to settle. He grabs a jumper and pulls Ben’s bedroom door closed behind, hurrying over to the front door, finally unlocking it to see Rami grinning at him, and Joe frowning. 

“Oh, I see,” Joe says. “Ben gets to see you naked, and I get nothing.”

Gwil ignores Joe’s comment and leans in, pulling Rami in for a hug. “You’re home,” he says.

“Surprise!” Rami says, smiling.

“Miss us?” Joe asks, and then Gwil moves to hug him as well. 

Gwil steps back, letting Rami and Joe walk by him, and Rami immediately spots Augie asleep on a blanket on the sofa, and he gasps, hurrying over to him. “Oh, I missed you,” Rami says, and Augie meows loudly.

“Where’s Ben?” Joe asks, looking around.

“I figured I’d give him a minute,” Gwil says. “He’s still in bed.”

Joe glances towards the bedroom door, and then slowly smiles. “Asleep?” he asks.

“Well, he was,” Gwil says, “until you nearly woke up the whole bloody neighbourhood.”

Joe just grins up at Gwil. “How’ve you been?” he asks, patting Gwil on the arm a couple times.

“We’ve been lovely, thank you,” Gwil says.

“So it’s we now, is it?” Joe asks.

“What about you?” Gwil asks. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you,” Rami says, looking up from where he’s got Augie snuggled up to his chest. “We’re really happy.”

“So am I,” Gwil says. “For you two, I mean. Well, though, also for...”

“Getting laid?” Joe asks.

“Joe!”

Joe laughs a bit, and Gwil’s face reddens. “What?” Joe asks. “Come on, you’re trying to tell me you wouldn’t be a little bit happy to start having sex again after, what, six months? Okay, I’m sorry. But anyway Gwil, speaking of being in bed with Ben, I need a favour.”

Gwil’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Rami, who seems confused as well. “Uh...beg pardon?”

“Just for like, three minutes,” Joe says. “I promise, I won’t do anything weird, I won’t touch him, I--”

“Joe, he’s naked,” Gwil says, “I can’t imagine he’d--”

“I’m sorry, Ben Hardy sleeps naked now?” Joe asks. “What the hell did you do to my best friend?” After a moment, he winks. “Oh, I know what you did. Anyway, please? It’ll be hilarious oh my god. It’ll make me so happy. And Ben too, he’ll love it.”

“Is Ben the type of person that would like a strange man in his room while he’s sleeping?” Rami asks.

“I’m not a strange man,” Joe says. “He’s my best friend! It’s his birthday, I want to surprise him. Come on, Gwil. Gwil.” He bats his eyes a couple times. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, if nothing else, you can trust that, right? Just a little-- he’s going to wake up and I’m going to be looking at him, it’s gonna be amazing.”

Gwil bites down on his lip, and glances over at Rami, who just shrugs. Gwil feels a bit odd, considering that Joe and Ben have known each other for years, but Gwil is apparently now the one responsible for Ben. But on the other hand, Ben’s a grown man, well-accustomed to Joe’s...whatever they are (personality problems, Ben would probably say), and he does trust that Joe wouldn’t do anything to cross the line and upset Ben. Finally, he just shakes his head a bit and sighs. “Yeah, fine,” he says. “But I’m not taking the blame for it.”

Joe grins. “Oh, don’t worry about that, he loves you, I’ll definitely get the blame. Thanks!”

[toeychan]

The 3 Months Mid-Night Room

*-This content that you about to see

has been contained many violent and inappropriate actions-*

** To be clear, this fiction story never happens in real life

and the writer does not have any intention of encouraging any hatred

I hope you could get the message after reading the Ending” **

Mid-night of February A.D. 19XX

**Somewhere around the SouthEast China Sea**

X: “Yes, we are taking them as prisoners to this sub-”

**Gun Shots**

G1: “What happens?”

X: “Pardon me, but I have to hang up

then I will call you back later, Sir.”

 X hung up…

 He stood up then walking straight to the hatch…

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING!!!”

 X yelled with terrify angry face toward to who

 is standing outside of submarine that They have come from

 after a few moments later X’s face return to being a dead fish face

“I remember that I said do not kill them, they are just citizen…

 And I am doubting that gunshots could kill Entire people in the fishing boat”

 While X said with looking at the bodies on the ground at the same time

With emotionless eyes

“Sorry, Sir, but Those prisoners have resisted being arrested

then They engaged us, so I thought-”

 “Forget it how many people have you killed?”

X cut the conversation of that crew member

and started to ask a new question

 “I think, it’s 12 people.” the crew member said

 “probably exactly max capacity of member…

 Have you finished searching in this boat yet?”

 X said while claiming outside

 “Not yet, Sir” the crew member said

 “…”

 5 minutes later

 “We got one prisoner, Sir!” one of a crew member that carrying one middle-age girl said

 “Only one?” X said

 “Just only one, Sir.” a crew member said

“…” X can see the crew member is carrying an unconscious girl

 “What happened to her?” X asked while feels stupid

about how could this such a bad black comedy happen to him today

“I used subconscious medicine on her it is really hard

to carry her without done it.” the crew member said

“I knew it” X thought in his mind and then says

“Takes her to the prisoner room then from now

every of a crew member in this submarine has to be Respectful to her.”

…

….

Day after…

“Captain, she already woke up, sir.” A crew member who is sitting next to X said

“I will talk with her personally later”

 X said while still doing his things

“She has been shouting and hitting the wall for 2 hours

Let’s wait until she calmed down then I will talk to her”

X thought

2 and half hours later…

 “Hey, our captain wants to meet you.” The girl inside the prisoner room

 which seems like high-quality Padded Cell Room

 with chairs and table yet a private shower and bathroom

heard someone says

 While the door is slowly opening

 “ไอเลวคอมมูนิสต์” the girl speaks in some-

foreign language while sitting on the floor at the corner of the room

X enters the room then starts the conversation

“Could you speak the English language?”

X said in a gentle tone voice

“ไปตายซะ” the girl said to no one

“Keep looking at the monitor in case something might happen”

 X said to the crew member outside

“Well, so you are speaking Thai language, right?

I am so sorry about what had happened on the yesterday

it is really shameful and dishonourable not even for in my opinion

but the general also feels the same as well”

X apologizes in Thai language very frequently speaking

“…” X sees the girl turns her face away…

 “ahh…” X is sitting down then turns his back toward the girl

 And says

“I don’t have so many people to tell about my story…”

…no response

“Would you like to listen to me?

…

I love this sea…

I and my Father are love the sea

that is why I am here

We were born on somewhere around the beach…

half-memories of my childhood

are related to the sea…

back then my father always carried me around everywhere

to a lot of places…

to a lot of fun and to

a lot of people…

What is your favourite food?

my beloved food is always relating to sea…

I am like Seafood BBQ

Just simple menu but delicious sometimes I even catch

the ingredient by myself

…

….

 I have a niece

I am wondering what people on the outside of this submarine are doing…

I heard that Ship which you came from had been arriving in many places

 Before it sunk

 Are you the person who in part of those all journey?

 …

…

 I arrived in many places around Asia…

But most of them are businesses meeting

however, I still got many opportunities to go to had funned…

Well so I have to leave this room now

but I will come back to talk with you later

and I will make sure that I will bring you some goods”

X finished his self-talking

then

 leaves the room when the crew opens a door

The time passes already 1 day and a half after that night

“Well, sorry for being late mi-”

“I never wait for you.” the girl says like she said to herself

“…” X looks down a bit…

then X hand a bottle of tea to the girl.

“Do you want some?”

**awkward silence**

“…If you don’t mind, I would like to have some”

then X drinks tea from a bottle of tea by not making lip contact

“This taste really bad” X criticised the tea’s taste in his mind

“As I have said today, I also got stories to tell you”

after that X tells the girl the same topic

as he said in 2 days before but in another detail

It happens like that day to after days

sometimes not daily but 2 days per talk

Finally, one day…

“as usual that time I remember the father’s words

and I just know what I need to do

So, I jump into the sea-”

“could you tell me what happened to your father…?”

surprisingly the girl who never intends to talk

with X have spoken

 “Before you tell me about your father

 I want to tell you that I don’t like to talk to you but I am sick

to hearing you rambling around without any clear direction”

the girl told with a sound of irritating

to X a lot

X smiles to himself for a bit

“my father… is the person who makes me became captain…

he is an honourable navy force…

His ship even names after his name…

He is a pure heart person

who afraid to hurt any mosquito…

He only likes to live in the sea

and the person who tried his best to be

 The great Successor of our family

but he got an order to mobilize to the South China Sea…

but unfortunately, His ship sunk by an aircraft carrier

from NATO he should be the person got the first ticket

to get out of that ship… but he desired to sink in the sea with it…

No one really knows why he sunk with that ship…

even the survivor who came back has no idea about it…”

X is looking at his feet on the whole talking

“So, that is why you join this War?”

The girl said…

“No…, I don’t

I am just serving my country for my people and order that came from general

I want to be like my father…”

X said

“My name is Naree…”

the girl said

X close his eyes and say

“My name is Xia Ming,” X said

“Nice to meet you X.” the girl said

“Nice to meet you too Naree

Sorry I think that have to go I will come back tomorrow or next 2 days”

X said

“See you.” Naree said…

After that day Naree and X are starting to

making conversations and know each other

“Do you have any family member who waiting for you?”

Naree said in a Nostalgia way

“Ahh… It has been 3 months already after we have left the harbour

 But I could look at my family’s pictures…

and you?” X throw the question back to Naree…

“I have… mother father…and two nieces.”

Naree starting to look down on the floor when she said…

**2 minutes later in that room with awkward silence**

X stands up and say

“When the war is over you will return to see your family”

then X leave the room

7 days later after Naree hasn’t seen X…

“I might be a fool to trust him…” Naree said with disappointment

Meanwhile, X is opening the door

“What have you been doing!”

Naree said then turns her face to the door

She is seeing X’s all part of his body cover with the Blood

Naree could do nothing but terribly Shock, Scare, Horrify at this moment

“a…aaa...a-…. a~~~”

Those Blood on the X’s body is nothing to compare when the first time

She saw corpses in that fishing both

X throw a gun in his hands away and says

“You could go back to your home now as we always want”

Naree suddenly sees at the floor on X’s back there is a corpse with

Terrify face… She couldn’t hold it anymore she goes

to the bathroom and vomits

After that 5 minutes, Naree finished throw herself

but she locks herself in the bathroom

For 15 minutes before she gets out of that bathroom

She is seeing X have been sitting on the chair and waiting for her the whole times

Naree starting to throw questions to X

“What have you done?

And What do you mean that I could go back to my home right now”

Naree forced herself to talks

X turns his face to looks at Naree and says

“As you can see that I killed someone and from this blood on my body…

In fact, I killed everyone on this submarine

Except us” X said

“Why?” Naree still confusing

“I glad you ask

This Submarine is XC-01 it’s a super weapon that

we believe it is the next gen of killing machine that

got high-tech stealth technology

including an arm with Nuclear-Weapon.

Do you remember the incident?

that Meteor drops at Manila?

I would like to say it’s not Meteor

it’s a missile from this submarine.

Furthermore, I know This submarine is here to be the trump card

for making sure No matters what happened outside still my country will

wins the war. Recently on 2 days ago, I got a direct order

to set nuclear ballistic missile

On 3 places

I believe

if I set target from the order, I predict that at least 5 million

of people have to die in their city

This submarine got 5 nuclear ballistic missiles

And if NATO does not surrender, I think this submarine

will head to the around Europe Sea

So, I feel that if I have to choose between 5 million people and the end

Of Mao Era, it is no brainer for me”

X said with incredible mono-tone on this really serious topic

“I am about to sink this weapon to bottom of the sea

I have two choices for you… Return to your family

In your country or sink with this submarine”

X said

“what about you?” Naree said

“I couldn’t live after I commit all of these things

Whether where I go… I sunk 8 NATO ships and 2 citizen boat…

Or go back to my country as a mass murderer traitor…”

“I better to sunk together with all of my crew that killed by me”

“This is your opportunity chance even you don’t regret to lose your life

But I bet your family does…”

“I know about your cultured a lot… I have been learning your culture

Right there for 3 years…Please.” X gives small gentle while he is saying it

Naree shocked again with what said by X but this time

It is how much she appreciates the chance and kindness of his action…

“I will”

“I will go back to my family” Naree is trying to hold back her tears while talking

“I am glad you said it”

“but I want to say right now about most of the picture

that you will see in this submarine

could be a really terrifying picture for you…

I suggest that I will use this cloth to blind your eyes

until you get into small life submarine in this submarine”

X looks at Naree when he

said

“Okay.” Naree said then closes her eyes

**A moment later**

X untied the piece of cloth then he says

“We are here open your eyes”

“I will set auto-pilot to your destination it will drive by itself.

I already contact NATO about I am surrendering

and arriving to meet them

They will wait for you no matter what, Please good luck”

X said with his first smiles for Naree

“Thanks.” She said while smiling back to him

X close life submarine’s hatch then a few moments later

he launches Small life submarine’s

“Okay…It is only one thing left to do…” X said while diving down…

The sun is Rising… It is starting the morning

the new day for Naree

She felt like it just happened over within one night…

And Finally, She is going back to her home…

[doe-praefacioofblue]

Chapter 4, Section 1-The Monastery on the Seashore; Scene 3

Praefacio of Blue, page 238-249

♣ Yukina ~In the Former Lucifenia Territory, “Monastery/Guest Room"~

.

There were several monasteries that offered lodging places for travelers. In fact, during my journey I had been allowed to use such things several times, such as during instances where I had been unable to find an inn out in the countryside.

The Held Monastery was no exception, having a number of guest rooms set up. They were plain in make, but the bed and sheets were cleanly put in order.

Clarith told me, pouring tea into a teacup, "Normally we'd take a small donation for this, but…We've already received plenty of donations from the Freezis family up to this point, so we couldn't possibly accept money from you, Miss Yukina…Naturally, that applies to Miss Germaine as well, being your friend."

Upon hearing that, Germaine happily sat down on the bed.

"Well then, heh heh, I guess I must be pretty lucky, Yukina."

Was Germaine not going back to her own house?

"On that topic…"

When I asked her, Germaine replied, looking displeased, "Apparently it got ransacked a few times during the 'Witch Hunt Order', so when I finally got back home the inside was all trashed. I'm pretty angry at myself for that, and I don't feel like tidying up right now, so I figured I'd find a place to stay outside for a while."

That did seem like Germaine, but I also sensed an incongruity in her actions. Germaine was more the type to prefer working solo, and during this whole journey it had felt like she'd only come along with me because she had to. Why was she taking action to stay with me so positively now?

In truth, I wanted to talk to Clarith just the two of us. Despite worrying it might be a little rude of me I openly suggested that to Germaine, and she responded, not looking particularly cross, "Oh? Alright then. You've probably got a lot to talk about. I'll go rest in the next room, if that's alright."

She moved to the room next door.

"But it really has been quite some time, hasn't it?" I once more turned to Clarith, and the two of us spontaneously smiled at each other.

Clarith had worked as a servant for the Freezis family when we lived in Elphegort. Because she in particular could read and write, despite being a peasant, she was my exclusive maid, as I liked books.

Clarith had often been my playmate. As a child I had loved her a lot.

But, suffering in grief at her best friend Michaela dying, Clarith had quit her duties as a servant and left the Freezis family…

--Well, that was the story as I understood it up until recently.

In actuality, Clarith had started work at a monastery at my father's recommendation. At first she had just been helping out with the orphanage, but now she was engaging in her apostolate duties as a fully-fledged Sister.

My father had kept this hidden from me. He must have thought that if I knew, I would run away from home to go see Clarith. Now that he was unconscious and I was able to freely use his information network, I was able to learn about what happened to her. If not for that I would be in the dark on her whereabouts even now.

Further still, I had ended up running away from home for reasons completely unrelated to Clarith, so in the end my father's deception hadn't really achieved much.

"It looks as though you've kept writing books, hm?" Clarith said, pulling out a single book. On the bottom of its red cover was the name "Yukina Freezis". It was the first novel I'd ever written.

"I have all of the books you've written up until now on my bookshelf."

"You bought them all?"

"Nuns are forbidden from spending money on amusements. These were all donated to me."

I knew the answer to who it was who donated those books.

"…By Mama, huh?..."

The impetus for me receiving information that my disappeared mother had shown up at the monastery had been a letter from none other than Clarith herself.

"For the last six months or so, I think. The madam has started to visit the monastery from time to time."

Clarith quietly started to tell me about my mother.

"She hasn't told me the particulars, but it seems that she's searching for something. If I recall correctly…she said it was the 'vessels of something or other'."

The vessels of something or other--did she mean the "Vessels of Deadly Sin"?

Mama's been--searching for the Vessels of Deadly Sin!?

Clarith continued speaking. "The madam came to the monastery just the other day. But it seemed like there was something off about her. She appeared distracted, almost like…she had been dazed. I was concerned even after she went home, but when I heard from a messenger of the Freezis family that the madam had gone missing…"

"Did Mama say she was heading somewhere?"

"No, nowhere in particular. I had thought that she would beyond a doubt be returning to her home estate in Marlon…"

"How long ago was 'just the other day'?"

"…Four days ago."

In that case there was a chance that she was still nearby. Perhaps we could search for her with the monastery as a base for a little while. I asked Clarith if we could stay here for a few days, and she replied, smiling:

"Of course, you're more than welcome. Once the director learns you're a daughter of the Freezis family there won't be any objections."

After that the conversation moved on to more rambling topics. We talked about what had happened to us in the past five years. Clarith listened in with surprise and deep interest to my stories of my travels.

"Oh dear, it seems we're out of tea."

Just as Clarith stood, empty teacup in hand, the door opened without so much as a knock, and a single girl walked in.

She looked a little bit older than me. Her blonde, short bob-cut hair fluttering around the back of her neck, she set down a fresh pot of tea on the desk, expressionless.

"I thought you might be out about now."

Clarith handed off the empty pot to her.

"Thank you, Rin. Ah, while you're at it you'd be a big help if you took a fresh pot of tea to the room next door as well."

"Alright, sounds fine."

"When that's done, please tell the people on cafeteria duty today to prepare two more meals for dinner."

"…Got it."

Though she seemed a bit displeased at being given consecutive tasks, the girl gave a quick nod.

I stood and greeted the girl named Rin. "Nice to meet you. I am Yukina Freezis."

The other girl bowed deeply to my greeting. "Ah, hello. I'm a nun in training, Rin."

When Rin looked up, she stared fixedly at my face. Her eyes were large, like a doll's.

"If your last name is Freezis, that must mean you're the daughter of the person who gave money to this monastery or something."

"Indeed. I am Keel Freezis' eldest daughter."

"Huh. His wife came over earlier, and now his daughter makes her appearance."

Listening to the conversation beside us, Clarith sternly rebuked Rin. "Mind your manners, Sister Rin."

Rin stuck out her tongue. "Begging your pardon. Well then, is the person in the room next door Miss Yukina's servant?"

Clarith shook her head. "She's not a servant. The person next door is the 'Red Armored Swordswoman', Germaine Avadonia."

"Ger…maine!?"

"Yes, you know that name too, don't you Rin? The one who spearheaded the revolution--"

And there, Clarith cut herself off. Her expression clearly read, "Oh crap".

A loud clatter rang out in the room. Rin had dropped the tray that she was holding. Her face blanched, and her eyes were unsettled.

"I--I'll take the tea to Miss Germaine after all. You can go back to what you were doing before, Rin."

Clarith hurriedly gathered up the fallen tray, putting the empty pot on top of it.

I didn't know the reason for their unrest. Maybe there was some connection between Germaine and this person named Rin. But now wasn't the time for me to lightheartedly grill them on the specifics.

"W-well then, it seems we'll have to continue our conversation tomorrow, Miss Yukina, so please just rest for today!"

Perhaps out of how impatient she was to get out of there, Clarith seemed to have forgotten that we hadn't yet had dinner. She hastily tried to leave the room, pushing Rin from behind.

But they were a step too late.

"Oh, that's just perfect. Hey~ is dinner ready yet? I'm starving…"

The moment Clarith opened the door, Germaine was blocking their way, carefree.

"Uh…"

Rin took a step back, terrified.

Germaine realized that Rin was there. But contrary to expectation, I couldn't see any change in her countenance.

"Oh, who's this? An associate of yours, Yukina?"

It looked as though Germaine didn't know Rin. Germaine, and Rin, and Clarith. It was clear even watching from the sidelines the gap in tension between the three of them.

But that too was just a matter of time. The level of tension between all three of them gradually became equal.

I could no longer sense any of the carefree attitude that Germaine had just a moment ago. She had likely realized that Rin was someone she had a connection to.

When she did, I felt completely left out of what was going on. Perhaps it would have been better for me to play the part of a girl with no ability to read the room, so that I might clear this heavy atmosphere. There was the chance that if I innocently badgered them, merrily going "What is it? What's going on?", everyone would lighten up and break up this scene.

But unfortunately even I could pick up social cues, if a little, and so I was unable to put that into practice. There existed between them, or to be specific between Rin and Germaine, some deeply rooted link that was not just something of a short span of time. I could feel that on my skin.

"…What is your name?"

Germaine broke the long silence with those words. Until that point, she had been staring at Rin's face. It wasn't a glare, but it also didn't feel like a warm, protective look. In the end, only Germaine herself could know what sort of feelings she had loaded her gaze with.

"It's…Rin," Rin replied, as though forcing herself to speak.

"I see…Rin, huh?"

Saying only that, Germaine turned around.

And then, finally, in a voice so quiet it seemed liable to vanish into the air, she murmured:

.

"Nice to meet you."

 .

Germaine once more returned to the adjoining room.

"…Well then, I'll excuse myself."

Rin followed suit, leaving the room as though fleeing from it.

"…Phew."

Clarith plopped down on the bed as though collapsing. She was soaked in sweat.

"Clarith, what the heck was that just now!? What relationship do those two have!?"

Taking advantage of the fact that the tension in the room had lessened slightly with the two of them gone, I rapidly pressed her for answers.

Clarith seemed to puzzle over how she should respond for a moment, but finally she said, as though remonstrating me, "…I can't tell you anything now. But I think that someday, when you're a little older, the time will come where I ought to tell you everything. The truth about five years ago--about the 'Daughter of Evil'. Try to forbear it until then."

The...truth about the "Daughter of Evil"!?

"Come, it's almost time for supper. It might not be as luxurious as the meals in the Freezis mansion, but I have confidence in its flavor. Our dishes, lavishly made with fresh vegetables, are quite delicious."

Clarith returned to her lighthearted expression. She left the room, a calm smile on her lips.

.

No meals had been prepared for Germaine and me in the dining hall. It seems that Rin had forgotten to send along the message. Because of that we were stuck having to wait close to thirty minutes while the other nuns and children ate. Well, they were giving us free room and board. Complaining about it wouldn’t help.

.

That night I made several guesses as to what connection Rin had with Germaine while lying in bed. The things I'd seen and heard while on my journey, the knowledge I'd gained from the Freezis information network, and the "Daughter of Evil" from the "Lucifenian Revolution"--

After putting all those things together and sifting through them, I was able to come up with a hypothesis.

--The "Daughter of Evil" was still alive.

I had no proof, and there were several inconsistencies with it. Even I thought it was an absurd theory.

To verify it--I had no choice but to ask the person herself.

I shook my head to dispel such excited thoughts from my mind. What would happen in that case? If "she" was the "Daughter of Evil", would I announce that to the world? Would anyone benefit from that? On the contrary, wouldn't it just bring to madness the life of a person who was currently living happily?

That was something I ought not to do, for now. Why had I come here in the first place?

Yes, I came here to look for my missing mother. It wasn't the time or place for me to go sticking my nose into other peoples' business.

After thinking for a long while, I got pretty tired out. Before I knew it I was fast asleep.

.

And then two days later, the time of my reunion with my mother was suddenly upon me.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[carnivalhome]

7 Blocks And Ways To Creative Thinking One Should Know

CREATIVE IMAGINATION

Creativity is significantly more than merely busy creativeness. In order to consciously imagine matters, to determine and listen to matters in your intellect, can be an equally crucial skill. It will not need to demand more ingenuity, although, can one all? Day-dreaming, as an instance, can be just a practice of creativeness. It might contain an elaborate dream environment, however, one high in all of the stuff that lots of men and women think of.

C-reactive creativeness, subsequently, must incorporate the capability not simply to assume matters, yet to assume things. It's seeing items others do not view, also inventing brand new thoughts. Thus how can you nurture this?

Creativity 101

Very first, workout your creativity that is basic. It is often as easy as believing in graphics longer listening or hearing music on the mind. Play minor"pictures" on the mind, till you may see this online command. This really is an easy procedure, however, for all those people who can not readily get it done, of course, it might consider plenty of exercises. Luckily, it isn't a disagreeable exercise.

The next portion of acquiring your creativity would be to become more imaginative on your own thinking and imagining. Start with focusing to own creativity. Our unconscious minds provide us with that which we listen to. Blow Off creative sides of one's own life, and also you're telling your subconscious they're insignificant. About the flip side, in the event, you see if you are creative, then your own subconscious mind begins feeding you longer ideas.

Distinct environments may additionally motivate your own creativity. Want to have more images on your life? Hike a mountain up by means of your associate. Does one really write? Consider sitting over roofing to compose. Desire new suggestions for the industry? Have a laptop towards the playground and then sit from the sea pond. Even a reversal of setting could possibly make your believing out-of-it's ruts.

It's possible to engage in games that perform your creativity. 1 game employs an approach known as"notion mix" By yourself or together with different gamers, you can unite arbitrary notions or matters in fresh methods, to observe who's got the optimal/optimally notion. A toaster and also a toaster, say, might generate a notion to get an indication that assesses the elements also corrects the material so ("are available from their warmth to get a cool drink," or even"are available from this rain and also heat up together with all our gourmet java ") .

Do not Await Deadly Creativity

C-reactive inspiration can hit any moment, however, it strikes far more usually whenever there is certainly a job rather than ready. Therefore, in the event that you'd like to think of creative creations, begin emotionally re-designing what you visit. Envision an improved bike, quicker email assistance, or even perhaps a chair. Carry on reading for fourteen days, also it'll wind up a custom.

Of course, ingenious creativity goes past resolving specific difficulties or inventing matters. Truly resourceful heads are constantly inventing all the questions also, but perhaps not only the remedies. In the Event You Would like to be creative all of the Moment, concentrate on 3 matters:

Inch. Modifying up your view. A kid may possibly believe working only to work (to retire) is absurd. Believing out of this perspective could supply you with a few ideas on how you can make money doing things you enjoy. Watching the entire world for a stand sees it may possibly grant a painter ingenious brand new notions. Studying matters in a person's view is actually a sure means to discover creative developments to get a small business. Watch everything from a few viewpoints.

2. Hard your own assumptions. Imagine should restaurants did not possess staff members? Folks fork out a system since they input feed on their own in a buffet, and what's just as automatic as you can, therefore 1 owner-operator can conduct a huge restaurant independently. Challenge your entire premises to get training. Would you truly need to cover hire? Do pools want h2o? Could exercising be described as a terrible point?

3. Allow your thoughts to run crazy. Can one flying mattress look absurd? It might lead to this notion of the helium mattress. After you put it off at the early hours, it ends outside of this manner up into the ceiling. Great for smaller flats. Do not stifle your imagination. Hurry, and allow thoughts to encounter. You may always shed them afterward.

For all these ways for always a habitual aspect of one's believing, utilize these on a regular basis. As it requires a few months to come up with a custom, remind your self to utilize them daily. Jot a couple of one's favorite methods over the card and take it along with you personally. Seem it on through the duration of your daytime and then implement the methods to any such thing. So on, you will truly have even more creativity.

7 TIPS TO MAKE YOU MORE CREATIVE

Lots of fantastic points have begun being a basic, ingenious notion. Think about donating a few of the finest thoughts to others. The more creative you're, the more thoughts you are going to be in a position to produce. It may be innovative even in the event that it's the case that you never believe you're

I've understood lots of people who were terrified to employ a pc to get its very first couple of situations. However, following plunging right into it that they became much comfortable. These certainly were eager to have a hazard and make a few faults. The end result has been a skill to learn and also perform things they'd not be in a position to complete with the employment of some type of computer keyboard.

Staying inventive and believing up world-changing notions does occur in an identical manner. Everybody else could be inventive nevertheless they've to become eager to begin. The imaginative method will subsequently be much far more natural as time passes.

Take to the next tips to Assist You on your trip be creative:

1. Report your thoughts about anything that is convenient and comfortable at as soon as. What's very important in which you just list your thoughts. Back in earlier times, I've forgotten thoughts I thought about if I had been really on a wander. I take an electronic recorder together with me those struggles. Sometimes I utilize my own laptop or computer, journal or notepad. Choose what's going to do the job well for you personally and make certain you own a means to list your thoughts constantly. Now you can't as soon as a crucial idea is going to soon surface.

2. Do not confine your self to notions that look potential. Catch each one of your thoughts. Even the ones who seem hopeless to execute are all necessary to get a handful of reasons. To begin with, what sounds hopeless that you may possibly perhaps not be hopeless sometime in the foreseeable future or to get another person. Secondly, hopeless notions encourage additional ideas that may become more inclined to become carried out.

3. Alter your scene or place. A big change in the landscape may trigger the image inside it. A switch may be as easy as searching outside a window. You may even visit somewhere new such as a playground, shore, or even mall. The newest natural environment can boost fresh thoughts.

4. Continue reading several themes. It's astonishing how lots of matters in an entirely unrelated subject matter might prompt new thoughts. By bettering your comprehension to far more regions, you make your own imagination capacity develops.

5. Proceed to get a stroll. One of my finest thoughts has taken place after I had been on the wander. This pertains to some sort of mild workout. I know about the others who have created content and addresses even though walking or running.

6. Concentrate on 1015 minute increments. It can not require a large sum of time for you to emphasize some perspective notions. The truth is that brain-storming works better when accomplished for brief amounts of time. Concentrate to get a couple moments on crank out because many thoughts to tackle some certain issues or areas. Subsequently, catch whatever comes in mind through the entire remaining part of your afternoon (see hint no 1 ) ). You'll have a lot of suggestions for concern for tiny investment punctually. Some of these can be something enormous for others.

7. Assume enormously. What are you really requesting to prompt your own thoughts? The more expensive the query, the bigger the effect those thoughts will have in the whole world. It's possible for you to begin by fixing bigger issues however do not confine your self to people. You've got particular adventures, wisdom, and skillsets that need to be implemented to aiding the others onto a more grand scale too.

Practice these tips and you're going to certainly be in the solution to making thoughts having the possibility to modify the whole world. Do not allow your prior deficiency of imagination save you from growing and devoting your own ideas. Get going now.

7 BLOCK

Every one of us gets got the capability to become more creative. It's part of the normal make-up as individual beings. The trouble is that, far too often, we obstruct our normal creativity and so make problems in thinking and give ourselves more issues than we all should. Listed here are a couple methods to start up your natural imagination and also maintain the channels unblocked.

1. Don't Make Assumptions. Once we suppose, we usually make an"ass" out of"un" and"me". Assumptions are cases of lazy thinking. All of us just don't wait to get all the advice we will need certainly to come back quickly to the proper decisions. There is the narrative of the client in the lender who after cashing a cheque and turning to leave, returns and says: "Pardon me personally, I think you've left a mistake" The cashier reacts, "I'm sorry but you'll find nothing I could really do. You ought to have relied on it. The moment you drive away we have been not responsible." Whereupon the client responses: "Well, fine. Thank you for the excess $20."

Tip: whenever you're feeling the need to attract conclusions, simply wait before you've got all of the information.

2. See Things From Different Points Of Watch. A really open mind is keen to simply accept this, maybe not just do other folks possess others simply as legitimate points of view from theirs, but that these other things of opinion may be much more valid. A narrative has been told the Lebanese painter Pablo Picasso was traveling to get a railway over Spain once he experienced dialog using a prosperous businessman that was oblivious of contemporary art. As evidence that modern-day art didn't properly represent reality, '' he took out a photo of his wife from his wallet and said: "That is how my partner should look, not in certain silly stylized representation." Picasso shot the photo, studied it for a few seconds and inquired: "That can be your wife?" The company nodded. "She's very modest," observed Picasso wryly.

Suggestion: Do not have a monopoly on how matters are. Things aren't always what they appear to be. Be ready to take into account different points of perspective.

3. Avoid Yo-Yo Contemplating. Many folks tend to get the inclination swing out of a highly positive mood about a second to a highly bad one the next, all as a result of everything they see in front of them. It is similar to a yo-yo: up one minute down the next. It really is far healthier to remain neutral rather than allow feelings to get the best of you.

Hint: Recall that things are seldom as good - or as bad - because you possibly imagine that they are.

4. Do Away with Lazy Pondering Habits. Routine can be an important stumbling block to clear thinking and another example of prevailed. Try this experimentation. Write the Scottish down surnames Macdonald, Macpherson, and Macdougall and request someone to announce them. Now adhere to along with the terminal equipment and see what the results are. A lot of people will probably mispronounce it. This really is only because we are apt to feel in habitual ways and usually do not enjoy what doesn't suit.

Suggestion: Do not feel that, only because matters took place in a certain way after before, they will happen like that again.

5. Do not Believe to Be an Old Person, Consider as a Child. Study shows the number of synapses, or connections, in the brain is significantly more than a young child 2 than in a normal adult. The reason for it is that, even though a young child of 2 has no restricting planet perspective, as older people we all do. It really is like a sculptor who starts off with a huge block of clay, more than he needs, and then gradually gets rid of the clay because he molds his or her sculpture. When we use our mind as a youngster, taking everything without any ruling we are able to halt and reverse the brain aging process.

Hint: Don't Be Worried about the fantasy old. With the most suitable stimulus and also a passion for learning, you are able to actually improve the human brain's powers.

6. View The Detail Together with The Big Picture. You might understand the poem by John Godfrey Saxe known as"The Blind Men and the Elephant". This informs how 6 blind men of Indostan go to see that an elephant and each takes to work out what it can be from touching it. One blind man strikes the tusk, another the trunk, another the tail, and so on. Of course, not being able to observe the whole elephant, they come to wildly different conclusions.

Suggestion: Try and maintain the major picture in front of you while looking at details. It's going to assist you set everything in its own appropriate position and circumstance.

7. Think For Yourself. Using our time to think remains frowned on in many establishments that trophy activity around creativity. Men and women who work in creativity-constrained associations are likely to assume the direction they are supposed to believe, or as an alternative fuel, or has always been the way to presume. It's like the blinkered believing that Hans Christian Anderson clarifies in his story of"The Emperor's New Clothes". Everyone within the land won't understand that the emperor is naked and was duped into thinking he is putting on a splendid costume because of his coronation. Only a young boy who has been unwell and not bashes to the cultural brainwashing can see the facts and yells out: "Look, everyone, the Emperor is wearing no clothes"

Suggestion: Do not let others tell you how to think. When others ask your comment, tell it to them straight.

As soon as you make those 7 methods a portion of your habitual thinking routines, you are going to end up with how easy it is always to come up with innovative, innovative and creative solutions to each one of life's issues.