#particularly kit who often kinda felt like “and shes there too” before; now she's more integrated into the story

[four-white-trees]

sometimes when i get really into a project i find myself feeling euphoric, almost infatuated with the project. I'm deeply in love with it, the characters, the story. this is what writing is all about for me

[mythicamagic]

The Colour of Love: Sesskag oneshot

This oneshot is dedicated to @chierafied​ as thanks for all her hard work and organisation in the sesskag community, particularly on tumblr for sesskag week and monthly prompts. She's also a wonderful sesskag author and always offers advice or a kind word ^^

Rated T

Summary: Shippo puts a spell on Kagome that allows her to see emotions in colour. It's fun to test out on her friends, but why is she seeing an awful lot of magenta around Sesshoumaru whenever she comes near? Sesskag oneshot

The Colour of Love

"I just need to test it on someone. You'll help, won't you?"

Kagome eyed the ominous glowing beverage in the fox's hands dubiously. She winced and picked up a basket, walking away with every intention of weaselling out of the conversation.

"Shippo, no offence, but the last time you tested something on me for class, horns sprouted out of my head and green pimples covered my face for an entire week. I'm not super keen on being your guinea pig this time, buddy."

His tail twitched and lowered, but her words did little to deter Shippo. He followed the miko as she attended to her chores; freeing swaying sheets from where they'd been hanging out to dry and folding them neatly into a basket.

"Oh pleeassee, Kagome! Sensei oversaw my casting process this time- there's no danger, honest! It's not even that cool of a spell."

Kagome arched a brow, lifting off another sheet and smoothing the cool creases. That was odd, Shippo always preferred the flashier spells. "What does it do?"

"It would let you see everyone's emotions in colour."

She tilted her head, "in colour? How would that work?"

Shippo grinned mischievously, holding up his cup and shaking it gently. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

Giggling, she thought for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "I guess it sounds pretty harmless. And this is for a grade?"

"Yes!" he nodded rapidly, eyes widening as his tone became pleading. "Sensei already graded all the other kids! I'm the only one who hasn't passed yet, and everyone else in the village refuses to help me! I'd owe you big time, Kagome. Please?"

Giving a large, put-upon sigh and folding the last of the sheets, Kagome squatted down before him. "Alright, alright. I just have to drink it?"

Green eyes brightened, and he handed the cup over eagerly, the contents nearly spilling. "Mhm! The effects should only last for a few days~!"

The glowing blue shimmer within her cup didn't exactly fill Kagome with confidence, but she didn't want to stifle his progress. It was wonderful that Shippo could advance in his magic at a kitsune school. Secretly, she felt somewhat guilty about the subject. She hadn't been able to witness his growth for three years after being stuck in the future.

Steeling herself and deciding to support him, Kagome downed the foul-tasting concoction. Coughing and blinking away thick tears that stung her lashes, her tongue roved around in her mouth as though trying to escape the taste of sour candy mixed with spices and mint leaves. What an odd combination. Shaking herself and noticing Shippo watching her worriedly, blue eyes widened as a faint shade of grey coiled and moved around the outline of his body like a shining aura.

"I-I think I see it?" Kagome gasped, reaching out and trying to touch the thing, though it had no solid form.

"Really?" Shippo lit up, the colour immediately becoming a tentative yellow, which only shone brighter into a canary hue when she nodded.

Giving a happy cheer, Shippo asked her about any side effects, which were none as far as she could tell.

They then decided to walk around Kaede's village together, Kagome noting any people they passed by and the colour of their current emotions. Shippo hurriedly took notes.

"There's Miroku meditating-" Kagome pointed to the quiet meadow they passed where the monk sat calmly, having gained two pupils to teach. Monks in training. Inuyasha had voiced his doubts that it would last long once the monks witnessed Miroku's less than savoury habits.

"His aura thingy is lavender and seems controlled," she observed in a hushed tone.

The little kitsune made a noise of affirmation, writing that down on a trailing scroll. "I think purple must be linked with spirituality then? This is great info!"

Giggling, she nodded, noticing how faint the pupil's auras were. She wondered if her own focus on spirituality would be strong or weak.

Moving on, noticed Sango outside her hut, who seemed absorbed in rocking her infant son while he dozed. Her twins were playing with some spinning tops that Shippo had given them.

"What do ya see, Kagome?" he tugged at her pant leg.

She hummed, gaze gentling. "Sango is radiating a kind of baby pink glow. The twins are like yours earlier- yellow and excited."

"So I guess love is pink," Shippo nodded.

Noticing something, Kagome waved a hand slightly. "Hold on-"

"Hm?"

Kaede and Rin were walking towards them, engaged in conversation. The little girl chirped on about something or other, while Kaede nodded indulgently.

"Kaede and Rin have pink auras too, but it's different. It's a pale pink, more like a pearl."

Shippo tapped his small chin with a pen Kagome had lent him. "Hmm…"

"I guess it makes sense since there are different types of love, don't you think?" gently prodding him, she smiled.

"Oh! So like they're feeling something kinda similar to Sango, but different."

"Right," Kagome grinned wider, proud of him. "Familial love for Sango, and platonic, friendly love for Kaede and Rin."

The old miko and her charge stopped to greet them on the path. "What are ye both up to today?" Kaede's single eye slid down to the scroll questioningly.

Kagome waved it off. "Just some schooling."

"Yeah, but it's fun! We're testing magic!"

Rin gaped at Shippo, aura turning green. "Aww, can I help them?" she turned to Kaede with a pout, clasping both hands and making big brown eyes even wider.

"Ye have your own training to attend to, Rin. Come along," the old woman kept walking with a dusty chuckle.

Whining good-naturedly with a now agitated orange glow about her, Rin trudged after her guardian, giving a despondent farewell to Shippo.

At that moment, foul cursing filled the air. The loud, booming swear caused nesting birds to take flight from their trees near the village.

The miko and kit shared a dry look.

"Inuyasha," they sighed in unison.

Needless to say, their former travelling companion's emotions glowed a vibrant red- outshining even the robe of the fire rat. He held his sore thumb, having accidentally hammered it while fixing a neighbour's chicken coop. Kagome wisely hid her laughter, feeling a plume of affection for him, since he'd taken it upon himself to help a neighbour.

I wonder what colour surrounds me when I look at Inuyasha, she wondered, fishing out a small mirror. Unfortunately, she couldn't see the colour. Though they'd broken up after a couple of weeks of dating, that candle of first love between them wouldn't be snuffed out completely. Since she couldn't coax that flame any higher than a tiny, nostalgic flame, she wagered it to be a kind of pastel pink colour.

After a few hours, Shippo looked down at the list of emotions they'd observed. "I think I got most of em' for now. We did great today, Kagome! Thanks so much!"

She giggled and ruffled his hair. "Don't sweat it, kiddo. I need to collect some herbs now, so if I see some new ones while I'm out, I'll let you know," Kagome grinned, leaning a basket against her hip. "I'll be able to see these emotions for a few more days, so no sense in turning in your test results early."

Shippo gave her a brief hug, before racing off to go organise his notes. Beaming with pride, Kagome walked out of the village and up a hill towards Inuyasha Forest with a small skip in her step. She'd helped! And luckily there'd been no side effects or worries of any kind.

Maybe I should help him out more often, she mused, noticing a certain Daiyoukai step out from beneath the shade of trees, powder blue shifting around his aura calmly. Smiling amiably, Kagome lifted a hand in greeting as their gazes met- before freezing.

Sesshoumaru's expression didn't change from its usual combo of placid, haughty and stoic. However, the energy surrounding him immediately dyed a deep, vibrant colour.

Kagome's breath hitched, eyes widening.

It plunged into a bold magenta hue, becoming a solid outline that coiled and thrummed.

She did not understand what it meant, but that she could elicit a change in emotion from him at all felt startling.

He stared at her, unblinking. As he drew closer and closer, Kagome tried to make sense of what he could be feeling, but his guarded eyes refused to risk any secrets being revealed.

"Miko," he acknowledged in his usual crisp, silky baritone. His way of a greeting.

"Sesshoumaru," she said, muscles tensing as he passed by, the silk of his billowing sleeve brushing the hypersensitive skin of her arm. Kagome blinked rapidly, reeling.

Shifting to watch him leave surreptitiously, she watched the magenta remain long after they'd parted ways, spying him duck into Kaede's hut to pay Rin a visit.

What the heck was that about?

Maybe it wasn't anything worth noting. Surely, just like anyone else, the Daiyouki had various emotions linked to things. People elicited different feelings from him; that was perfectly normal. But his mood had changed so swiftly upon seeing her that Kagome couldn't help but feel curious. What did magenta mean? Had she offended him? Did he always feel that specific emotion around her, or was it a one-off?

Turning on her heel, Kagome dismissed her task of fetching herbs in favour of seeking Shippo out again.

---

"What does magenta mean to you?"

"To me?"

Kagome nodded seriously.

Thinking for a moment, Shippo hummed and nommed on a lollipop, leaning back on the log he'd perched upon outside. "I dunno, it's a pretty colour but not a favourite. Can't get much use outta it with my crayons."

"No, I mean like - surely there has to be some demon opinion of magenta? Is it associated with a powerful emotion or something?"

Shippo shook his head, consulting the forgotten scroll. "My guess is- since purple is spiritual stuff, Sesshoumaru feels uh...like you remind him of holy things?"

Huffing out a sigh, she flopped down beside him, placing her chin in her hands. "Doubt that. He didn't seem calm," she mumbled, remembering the vivid intensity of his unblinking stare. "Hm, maybe since red- which is anger- and darker blue- which is sadness- has to mix to make the right shade of magenta, that means Sesshoumaru is both angry and sad when he looks at me." Kagome's stomach dropped. "Oh God, do I make him smad?"

Shippo snorted and tossed his lollipop aside to shake her arm, noticing the dazed look of worry glazing her eyes. "You don't make him smad."

Kagome remained unconvinced. The kit groaned, hopping up and grabbing her hand. "You don't! I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was feeling magenta around you. Let's go see!"

The miko stumbled after the exuberant fox, not fully realising where he intended to go until it clicked they were heading toward Kaede's hut. Kagome's heels abruptly dug into the earth, dragging. "Shippo!" she hissed. "He's visiting Rin- I don't want to interrupt."

"You won't be, it looks like they're saying goodbye already."

Blue eyes widened and her attention snapped up from the fox to land on some distant figures up ahead. Even from far away, Kagome could see the pearl pink aura coiling around Sesshoumaru as he lay a gentle hand upon Rin's head of brown hair. The girl beamed, giving off her own warm shine.

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, heedless of her own approach now. She realized then just how personal and vulnerable the emotion spell could be- how rare and revealing it was to witness Sesshoumaru experiencing such a wholesome bond, free from violence. Enemies could potentially use it on each other to find out secret information easily.

The Daiyoukai seemed to inhale- abruptly stiffening and lifting his hand away from Rin as claws twitched, curling into his palm. Kagome witnessed the moment his aura bled darker, slipping from innocent pink into the strong shade of magenta- just as he turned his head in their direction. Golden eyes pinned her in place. Sesshoumaru seemed to grow tense and watchful, showing none of his previous warmth.

Shippo paused when they weren't too far away, glancing up and noticing Kagome's pale expression. "Uh... has it happened again?"

"It's even worse than before," Kagome whispered.

"Kagome, Shippo!" Rin called over to them, waving. "Are you still playing with magic?"

This seemed to catch Sesshoumaru's attention, ripping his heavy gaze away to land on his ward. "Magic?"

"Mhm! They're doing some kitsune homework with a spell," she smiled, seeming to gain a devious expression and hurrying over to grab Kagome's freehand, pulling her the rest of the way towards her lord. "Kagome! You should take a quick break and sit with Lord Sesshoumaru. Share some tea together!"

Horror churned fierce and fast through Kagome's system. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, and prolonged exposure to her would no doubt suck for him if magenta was an irritated colour.

"That is unnecessary, Rin," Sesshoumaru uttered, confirming Kagome's suspicions. She winced a little anyway, wondering why it stung. "This one was just passing through, I will leave now."

Making a noise of complaint, the girl's grip tightened. "Well then, she should accompany you! W-we need medicinal herbs and you didn't gather any earlier, did you Kagome?"

She willed the earth to swallow her whole. "N-no…"

"Then it's decided! She can walk you to the forest since she's heading that way." Rin poked and prodded them to get moving. In all the confusion, Shippo slipped away to make some notes, giving Kagome a thumbs up- which she returned with a death glare.

Wondering what had come over Rin but being trapped by politeness to refuse, Kagome grimly started walking alongside Sesshoumaru, picking up a basket from Kaede's hut.

I shouldn't feel guilty or weird around him, she thought, trying to ease her worry. If he's getting bent out of shape just from seeing me, that's his problem. I'm pretty confident I haven't insulted him recently.

Kagome nodded silently to herself, endeavouring not to let Sesshoumaru's secret magenta emotion matter so much-

"You appear well."

Jumping, Kagome whipped her head up to the regal demon. "Huh?" she blinked, heat touching her cheeks. "Oh! Thanks!" the magenta outline grew bolder, much to her chagrin. "You look nice too. Aha-! I mean not nice- well, you look handsome- but in a good health way! Not a 'compliment on your looks' way. That's totally what I meant. "

Open mouth, insert foot.

His aura only seemed to fluctuate more, and Sesshoumaru's lips thinned. Kagome inwardly groaned. No doubt he hated her even more now!

She decided an attempt to smooth over everything was in order. "Sesshoumaru," she said, taking a breath. "I know we might not be what you'd consider close, but I'd be totally fine with talking about anything that might be bothering you. Even allies can talk about that stuff."

Sesshoumaru blinked languidly, looking as though she'd blurted out a foreign language. He then faced forward, features becoming tightly controlled. "Nothing unsettles me, miko. It is a foolish, human sentiment that I should be 'bothered' by anything."

Kagome rolled her eyes, mouth twitching. Proud, stubborn guy. She didn't know why she found it kind of endearing.

"Why are you so certain I am troubled?"

Her steps faltered before she strode on, biting her bottom lip. "I have a knack for feeling out these things. A woman's intuition," she grinned, noticing his stare rove lower, south from her eyes.

"Hn," golden eyes lingered. Kagome wondered if she'd gotten something stuck in her teeth. "Your intuition is certainly lacking if you are only just noticing something amiss."

A victorious noise escaped her and she immediately swooped in on the slip-up. Sesshoumaru seemed to wince. "Aha! So something IS wrong!"

"Miko-"

"It's just that you've been dealing with it for such a long time that it's become almost normal to you. That about right?" she grinned.

Kagome took his moody silence as a 'yes.'

"I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it earlier. Shippo's um...spell...has made me extra sensitive to how others are feeling," she revealed a half-truth. "I just can't work out how you're feeling. Heh, you're mysterious even when I've got magic to help me understand you."

"You wish to understand me?"

"Well, yes? You're our ally. As established; I'd like to be your friend too."

"I see."

"Sooo...?" Kagome hedged as they arrived at the border of the trees. The Daiyoukai stopped and turned to her once they were beneath the branches, having stepped under cool shade. Kagome quieted, wondering at the assessing, guarded look he pinned her with. Why should the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru guard himself against her of all people?

Pale lips quirked, and he hummed, giving a haughty, arrogant smirk. "Figure it out yourself."

Her mouth fell open. Ire immediately simmered real and hot beneath her skin. "That's not helpful, Sesshoumaru! The whole point of having friends is to share stuff! You can't expect people to know how you're feeling without you telling them, I'm not a mind reader."

He moved in slightly closer then, leaning down. Kagome swallowed but tensed her legs to keep from bending back, holding her ground and straightening her spine. It proved difficult. Sesshoumaru's cold features had a way of unnerving even the most hardened warriors. It was the lack of empathy or emotion in his animalistic gaze; the terrifying sense that something was missing; humanity.

But...

Kagome's eyes strayed to the magenta aura that only blazed thicker and larger, practically drowning her. The spell revealed, albeit without his consent; that Sesshoumaru was a man of feeling. In fact, whatever emotion plagued him, it roared stronger than any other persons she'd seen that day. Besides all that, she'd witnessed his care of others before. Been on the receiving end of it when he'd saved her a few times.

In the shade's hush, he tipped his head slightly, silver hair falling free from behind a pointed ear. "I am not a being that 'tells' other's information freely. Demons can glean enough from my body language, scent and actions enough to understand my feelings."

"And I appreciate that," Kagome said in a softer tone. "But I'm not a demon."

"Rin-"

"Is a child who has spent a lot of one-on-one time with you. I'd also wager that while she understands a lot of your intentions...she doesn't always understand you either."

Sesshoumaru begrudged her point, though seemed ever unwilling to let his mask slip to reveal anything.

Searching his gaze, she wet her dry lips. "What does the colour magenta mean to you?"

His aura flared, and Sesshoumaru surprised her by leaning back and stepping away. His features became a mix of things, the colours changing for the first time around him- grey, yellow, black, fluctuating on magenta and orange before settling on a particular shade of red that made her squeak.

No way- is he embarrassed?

"Why ask that?" he asked in a removed, steady tone. If she focused though, Kagome could pick up on the faint slip in his voice.

Kagome for once couldn't answer, heart hammering in her ribcage. She wasn't sure what to interpret from his reaction, but the colour obviously meant something to him. Shaking her head, Kagome waved it off.

"Never mind. I'll take your advice and work it out for myself."

He blinked and arched a brow, seeming to recover from his surprise. "Oh?"

Kagome made a noise of affirmation, turning on her heel and taking a few steps away. Pausing, she flashed him a smile over her shoulder. "And if I guess correctly, you agree to start telling me the important stuff. Deal?"

Sesshoumaru's face flashed with intrigue. Slowly, thin lips curved. His expression transformed into something quietly eager, the colour aura deepening into blazing magenta once more.

"Hn."

---

After asking near everyone she could think of for their input or ideas, Kagome ran into a brick wall, utterly stumped. That was- until she heard a certain irritatingly high, grating voice.

"But WHERE did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"

"I don't know, he said he was just passing through."

Jaken.

If anyone had insight into Sesshoumaru, it would be the little green imp. Kagome hurried in the direction of the helium sounding voice.

Finding Rin and Jaken by the village well, and struggling to pull a bucketful up together- Kagome quickly lent a hand, hefting the bucket up onto the side. The little girl grinned and thanked her, while Kagome crouched before Jaken, causing him to squeak.

"W-what is it? What do you want?!"

"I need to talk to you," Kagome said seriously. Resting her hands over her knees and leaning forward intently. "Magenta. Tell me your thoughts on that colour."

Bulbous yellow eyes widened. "Hah? Have you lost your senses, strange girl?"

Rin pouted and lifted the heavy bucket down, spilling some water. "Just do it, Master Jaken. If Kagome is asking, it must be important."

Kagome smiled a little, before schooling her features back into complete seriousness.

The imp sighed and squinted, before thinking for a moment. "Hmm, well. I would of course associate it with the most illustrious Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"H-huh? Why?"

"His cheek and wrist stripes are that exact shade! Don't you pay attention to anything?"

Kagome realised he was entirely correct. They matched up perfectly. Excitement built in her chest, feeling like she was FINALLY getting somewhere with the big mystery. "So it's linked with him… I see. What do you think the colour represents?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," he tilted his head back with a haughty sniff. "But since they adorn Lord Sesshoumaru, I can only conclude that it must be a royal, prideful colour."

Her elation fizzled out. Kagome wilted, sighing and standing once more. That didn't fit at all. No way would Sesshoumaru feel pride while looking at her.

Stepping away with the dismal thought that she was back at square one, she paused upon noticing a tugging on her sleeve. Rin clutched the trailing end of it, looking up at her in quiet earnest. She bit her lip and seemed to struggle with something. "I-I'm sure the answer is there if you just try asking more questions, Kagome."

The miko softened and petted her wild hair, smoothing the locks back from her face. "You really think so, kiddo? Because I'm kind of stumped right now."

"Mhm! I don't know what homework you're helping Shippo with, but if its causing you to take an interest in Lord Sesshoumaru, I encourage you to dig deeper!"

Kagome wasn't sure why she felt so strongly about the subject, her smile becoming a little confused. Nonetheless, she decided to take the advice and try again.

The right question…

Grabbing the back of Jaken's robes and tugging him back before he could walk off, Kagome knelt down. She decided to shift her focus. "Those markings on Sesshoumaru's face and wrists- I was wondering if they mean anything."

"Bah! Such things have a multitude of uses! Ahem!" he lifted up a tiny green claw. "Firstly, they are to show that he is poisonous."

Kagome stifled a giggle behind her hand, smiling with her eyes at Rin. "So he's like a flower."

"No! Nothing like a flower! He is deadly!"

"Poisonous flowers exist- but never mind that," she waved off. "What else?"

"Second, the positioning of the markings represents various things. The ones on mi lord's cheeks represent superior jaws, the wrists and ankles represent superior strength in his arms and legs, while the hips represent that he will produce superior offspring."

Kagome turned steadily red, wondering how low those stripes hooked down his hips. She hadn't even known he possessed hip stripes and was now picturing him half-naked. Kagome quickly shook the fantasy away. Rin didn't seem to understand that last part but thankfully remained quiet.

Jaken continued on, bolstered by such a captive audience and happy to talk about his favourite subject. "Lastly, they are to catch the interest of a mate."

"They... are?"

The imp nodded with vigour. "If you were the slightest bit observant, you'd notice that the vibrancy of his markings has emboldened recently. This means he is displaying for a female."

She had noticed that, actually, but Kagome hadn't thought anything of it. She felt close to a conclusion then, so achingly near to the truth. Swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, Kagome soldiered on.

"I saw that the ones on his cheeks had become bolder. What about his crescent moon?"

Jaken waved a tiny hand, "the moon is just to show which clan he belongs to. In relation to your original question, it is the magenta markings that are paramount. They are intrinsically linked with all that I noted; intimidation signals and mating."

Kagome nodded, inwardly reeling. She mulled this over and thanked him for the valuable insight. Magenta obviously meant more to Sesshoumaru than she'd ever thought.

In light of Jaken's words, Kagome found herself having to observe a certain set of emotions. Since mating was on the list, she reluctantly wandered in search of a known pervert.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she took Miroku to one side. After explaining the situation in a succinct manner, she took a breath.

"I need you to get horny for your wife."

Miroku stared. He then pushed back his sleeves, clearing his throat and righting his collar. "My time has come."

Kagome's eyes widened and she held up her hands, "wait- I'm not asking to be weird or anything. M-maybe I should explain more."

He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, patting. "No further explanation necessary, Lady Kagome. If this is in service of deeper understanding between allies, I am more than happy to help. Observe."

Miroku breezily walked away, gravitating towards Sango who had set down their son, attention on the crawling toddler. Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands- shifting some fingers aside to witness the moment Miroku's calm blue aura darkened.

For a moment, panic leapt down her windpipe as it deepened into purple, hovering over magenta- before the aura settled on a lush hot pink.

The sound of a slap sounded out, Sango moving away from Miroku's groping hand. "I've told you before; not in front of the children!" she hissed.

Her husband laughed airly, stroking his cheek and giving her a fond smile. Kagome's heart warmed slightly, witnessing the hot pink glow into a warm pinkish red.

I think that must be the colour of love.

This, unfortunately, didn't answer any of her questions.

The possible things Sesshoumaru could be feeling toward her made the miko's stomach twist into knots. She went over what to say in her head a dozen or so times- and then a dozen more. It was no easy feat to wait on pins and needles for the demons' return. Inevitably though, word of his return reached her a few days later.

---

Sesshoumaru had been spotted by the trees bordering Inuyasha Forest so she'd set off alone immediately.

Since the sun beat down mercilessly, Kagome was unsurprised to find him by water. Elevated temperatures were likely brutal on those who regularly wore armour- evidenced by the fact that she walked in on him very much without it. Sesshoumaru knelt by a river, eyes closed and hankimono parted- exposing a thin sliver of firm, pale muscle. His head slightly dipped forward, hair held over one shoulder as one hand cupped cool water and splashed it over the back of his neck. Droplets ran down the length of his throat to dip around his collarbone- some sliding down his back. Sesshoumaru massaged the base of his skull, before cupping more water and repeating the process, long fingers running over the back of his glistening neck.

Kagome stared. She'd suddenly never been so thirsty in her life.

His lashes fluttered open to glance at her. His continued silence prompted her to clear her throat and murmur; "I'm not sure if I've got it right."

"Explain."

Kagome felt a blush rise to her cheeks and panic erupted in her chest. She suddenly wasn't ready. She wasn't nearly as ready for this as she needed to be. Approaching the Daiyoukai dressed in a white tank top and dungarees had not been the plan but she'd impulsively sought him out without thinking about it.

His voice turned softer, almost coaxing. "What conclusion did you reach?"

Kagome bit her lip and felt the need to explain her process of elimination. "First off; I feel like I should be honest with you. I can see the colours of people's emotions around them due to a spell Shippo used on me. That's why I was asking about magenta. It's...it's the emotion you keep feeling whenever you see me- I just had no idea what it meant."

Golden eyes cracked a fraction wider, exposing the liquid honey swimming inside, glinting in the afternoon sunlight with interest.

"I asked Jaken about the colour since he has an insight into you more sound than other people. He told me that magenta was linked to your markings- which can represent intimidation signals and m-mating interest."

He arched a brow, something unnamed flickering over his expression. Kagome began pacing back and forth before him. "So! The first thing I did was follow Inuyasha into a fight. There was a weasel youkai bothering a farmer. I noticed Inuyasha's aura turned a brownish, orangey-red during the fight and concluded that was likely aggression! So I figured you weren't feeling defensive around me," she gave a nervous giggle. Why was the sun so damn bright? The humidity only elevated the spike of nerves pricking the back of her neck.

"Next came the... other thing," her voice dimmed and Kagome evaded eye contact. "I noticed Miroku feeling uh...frisky around his wife. His aura turned hot pink- so it wasn't magenta- not that I thought you could ever feel that way about...me," she babbled. "Hell, I've consulted Shippo's scroll a thousand times. I've run through all the emotions we could find and- gah! I couldn't find anything that explained magenta. I guess I failed in figuring out what's bothering you," her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You went to all that trouble?"

Kagome lifted her gaze to his, loosely holding her arms. "Well, yeah. I kind of realised that I wasn't being fair to you the other day. You shouldn't be expected to verbalise your problems if you're not comfortable doing so. It's a different method than what I'm used to in order to communicate- but if you're happy doing that I won't push you to open up to me."

Since she'd failed to work out his problems, however, Kagome grimly figured there was no hope of them being friends. The thought somewhat bothered her. Sesshoumaru was a solid, assuring presence to have around. It would've been nice to have a deeper insight into the inner mechanisms of his cerebral mind.

Maybe priestesses and demons just can't understand each other.

A shadow fell over her, bathing Kagome in shade. She looked up, finding his curious, burning gaze bearing down on her.

As usual, magenta coiled and expanded around him. So large and encompassing.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head slightly. "Some actions do not require words in order to understand them."

Kagome could only blink, face heating as he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted it up- before her heart burst into overdrive in time with lips pressing against hers.

Her squeak came out muffled, hands scrambling uselessly and finding his shoulders, quickly lurching away from the firm muscle to hover uselessly in the air. Sesshoumaru grabbed one of her hands and forced it to his broad shoulder, holding it there as he explored her open mouth.

The miko reeled, dazed eyes picking up the shining magenta aura before her lashes slid shut. Kagome let out a breathy noise as his tongue slid over hers, reciprocating for a moment before her mind caught up with the situation and- WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE DOING?

Kagome's palm pushed against his broad shoulder, ripping her mouth away from his and panting. Sesshoumaru remained close, breath shuddering slightly, gaze hooded.

"That-" she started, having to lick her lips. "That requires MANY words, buster. So many words are needed to explain what the hell just happened."

The Daiyoukai managed to look put out, eyes turning flat. "It seems your ignorance requires a lack of subtlety, but I do not mind. If it is necessary to have you- I will adapt and explain myself."

"To... have me?" Kagome's breath hitched. Somehow magenta was all she could see- his cheek markings so bold and bright.

Sesshoumaru's jaw ticked, eyes squinting and attention shifting away as he seemed to gather his thoughts and construct them onto his tongue.

"Magenta is the colour of love to inuyoukai."

He said it so easily. After all that confusion and so much second-guessing, Kagome was almost angry with him. Almost. The rest of her brain was too focused on processing the unthinkable thing he'd just said and the implications behind it.

"But...your markings…" she croaked.

"Have little to do with it- though Jaken's explanation was not incorrect."

Kagome shook her head, searching his face. "I just...I'm struggling to understand h-how? I mean, you can't feel that way about me."

"Why not?"

"B-because!" she squeaked, cheeks blazing red. "Isn't love a bit of a leap? You barely know me."

Sesshoumaru huffed, placid features shifting to become slightly guarded. He didn't know when it had started happening for he was in the middle before he even knew he had begun, but more and more, he sought her opinions and company. She spoke well and intelligently after all- had destroyed Naraku and the jewel with such power and finesse that had made his instincts stir. "I know enough. This is not something recent. I have watched... and wondered for some time."

"Wondered... what?"

"If it was possible to bridge the gap between us. Perhaps it was foolish to think we could be compatible."

He had a point. Even a spell hadn't helped her understand him any easier. But when Sesshoumaru slowly stepped back, quiet disappointment simmering behind his blank mask yet clear in his eyes- something like panic possessed her. Kagome grabbed his sleeve, blushing harder.

She wasn't sure why alarm had shot through her- but the idea of losing their soft, hopeful flickering flame before they'd even coaxed it brighter to see what heights it could reach felt like something she'd regret forever if she let him go.

Kagome stepped closer. "Not foolish. This is just really unexpected for me."

Golden eyes roved over her face questioningly.

"The colour of love is different for humans, so it never even crossed my mind that THAT was what you've been struggling with. Jaken mentioned you were displaying for a female but- wow," she murmured, gentling. "Thank you... for telling me. No one's ever said that to me before."

Sesshoumaru's expression warmed, just a touch. He inclined his head slightly and Kagome felt an odd flutter in her belly.

"I'm not in the same place as you emotionally but- if- if you'd want to try this human thing called 'dating' we could give it a shot and get to know each other better."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru gave her a considering look, and she almost thought he might decline before the ghost of a smile tilted up his lips. "What is 'dating?'"

Kagome's face burst into a grin, and she took his clawed hand. "You're gonna love it. It involves a lot of talking."

He gave a mock groan, aura glowing brighter.

Naturally, Shippo passed his test with flying colours. His sensei was particularly impressed by his observation of both human and inuyoukai emotions in particular.

He decided to use the spell on himself several months later, laughing and chasing Rin around the village, happy to see the yellow aura dancing around her. Something of note he noticed when rushing by was a certain miko and demon lord practising archery together in a field. As Kagome corrected his large stance, hand guiding his elbow down slightly as he aimed, the warm colours of pinkish red and magenta entwined, lacing like long, seeking fingers gently interlocking.

End

[buckyodinson]

A Clan of Three (Mandalorian x fem!Reader)

This is dedicated to @tlittlet​ (hope you don’t mind me tagging you in this) - I saw your post saying:

‘I wish I could read a mando x reader where the reader is all shy but passionate and mando craving for touch. But like, I know I can write it but I don’t want to write it, I want to read it, do you know what I mean? 😫’ and I kinda ran away with it? 

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in about a year and a half so it may be a little rusty, and it’s based vaguely on the post mentioned above. I just love Mando a lot right now, and this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually felt compelled to write something, so I hope some people out there can enjoy this, as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Feedback is appreciated!!

Word count: 2.6k

There was a lot left unspoken on the Razor Crest as of late. You’d been travelling with Din and the Child for just over a year now, and barriers had slowly broken down in that time. A lot had been shared between the two of you, but a lot had been kept under wraps on both sides, through fear of rejection. You loved both Din and the Child with every fibre of your being, and it tore you apart trying not to just lay all your cards on the table, but you were terrified the gamble was too risky.

You would often be left on the Crest while Din fetched his latest bounty, staying to watch over the Child and keep him out of harms way. You felt a true maternal instinct, and while watching over the Child while he slept or played with whatever he could get his hands on in the cockpit, your thoughts would drift to the signet on Din’s pauldron - a clan of two - and how desperately you wished to be a clan of three. 

You loved Din. You knew as much. You knew from very early on, after a few weeks of settling into life with the pair of them on the Crest, you knew this was a life you could get used to. And you thanked the Maker that you could spend at least part of your life travelling the galaxy with two who you truly and genuinely loved. You wanted to let him know how you felt, but you knew The Way. And you knew you couldn’t put Din in a situation like that - partly because you didn’t want to disrespect the life he swore to uphold when he swore The Creed, and partly because you were terrified he didn’t feel the same, and he’d drop you off at the next system to avoid the awkwardness that would likely ensue.

So you kept quiet. You would often lie awake at night, thinking of endless scenarios of what life would be like if he knew. If he felt the same. If he took his helmet off, abandoning his bounty hunting life to settle down on a planet somewhere in the outer rim, just the three of you. A clan of three. There goes that thought again, and just as quickly as it enters your mind, it’s snatched away when you scold yourself for getting carried away. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, and you know it, but you’re too far gone to care.

Unbeknownst to you, Din would also often lie awake in the safe confines of his quarters, with his helmet removed, wondering how the soft touch of your hands would feel on his face. How your lips would fit against his. How perfect your body would slot into his as you laid together, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. These ephemeral thoughts calmed him after a long day, but they also brought pangs of sadness, knowing that they were only his imagination. She’d never feel the same. After all, how could she? All she’s ever known is the cold, unforgiving glare of Beskar. She’s never seen the longing on his face when she’s idly hanging up a small decoration she bought at a market, his mind racing at the thought of a domestic life with her. Nor had she seen the soft smile he can’t seem to shake when he catches her playing or chatting away with the Child.

He craved her touch. He’s only felt it in fleeting moments. Usually when one of them is badly injured after a particularly nasty run-in with a bounty. On many occasions, he’s been badly hit with a blaster in places he can’t patch up himself, and she silently reaches for the med-kit and beckons for him to sit with her. She removes his Beskar so softly, as if it isn’t one of the toughest materials around, and it makes his heart ache. She works mostly in silence, other than to ask him if it’s okay to lift his undershirt. She always asks. She doesn’t have to, and she knows, he’s told her so many times. But still she does. And that longing creeps into his entire body every time, knowing she truly respects his way of life.

When she works, her delicate hands clean the injury with feather-light touches, using a bacta spray to help with further healing, before applying a bandage. Even these light touches cause shivers to run up Din’s spine, and he knows it’s a ridiculous reaction to have, given the circumstances, but nobody has ever been so gentle with him. Nobody has ever taken the time to make sure he is okay. Once, he was so exhausted from a fight with a bounty that ended badly, that after he’d taken all his armour off, dropped it to the floor, and let you tend to his wounds, he’d fallen asleep where he’d been sat, in the hull of the ship. When he woke, he found a blanket draped over him, and all his armour was neatly arranged on the nearby shelves, seemingly having been polished. He was speechless. It was such a sweet gesture on your behalf, he didn’t know how to react. He wished he knew how to thank you for all you did for him. But he just didn’t know how.

When you helped with his injuries, you never failed to notice the almost imperceptible hitches in his breath, and small sighs he let out as you worked. You never questioned them, but they made you wonder when the last time he was ever touched by another person. If he had been touched by another person since he swore the Creed, and vowed to live his life shielded from the world.

The day came when things left unspoken finally bubbled to the surface. Din had been out looking for a bounty, and had been gone for several days. You grew worried very quickly, as even the toughest of jobs brought him back to the Crest within a day or two. But it was four days since you’d last seen or heard from him. The Child was beginning to grow restless, being cooped up in the ship. You spent most of your time pacing the cockpit, trying to contact him, to no avail. You knew it was dangerous to leave the ship, and leave the Child unattended, so you had to settle for staying in the Crest and praying to the Maker that you’d see him emerge from the tree-line any minute.

You slept very lightly while Din was away, any and every noise rousing you, hoping it was the ramp lowering, and Din coming back. After five days of nothing, you finally heard that familiar hiss of the ramp to the Crest opening, and you all but sprinted from your cot to the ramp. You were ecstatic that he had returned, but also terrified at what state he may be in. You were right to feel this way, because once the ramp lowered and you caught a glimpse at him, you knew he was in trouble. He was leaning heavily on his left leg, and you ran down the ramp before he all but collapsed into your arms. You made quick work of dragging him into the ship and closing the ramp door.

You set him on the floor and made quick work of removing his armour, disregarding your usual tentative movements. The more armour you removed, the more blood and grime you noticed on his underclothes, and the sight made you gasp.

You spoke softly but with a sense of urgency, “Din… I’m going to take your underclothes off. Is that okay?”

You received no reply.

“Din? Can you hear me?” You tried again, but to no avail. You reached one hand under his neck to support it while you reached your other under his jaw, and could still feel a strong pulse, which calmed your nerves ever so slightly. But upon pulling your hand other hand back to rest his head on the ground, you noticed your hand was covered in blood. You began to really panic now, not knowing how to proceed with the situation. He needed serious medical attention, but you didn’t want to overstep the clear boundaries he lived by.

You knew his safety came first, but you also didn’t want to jeopardise his religion and risk him never being able to put the helmet back on again. So you removed his underclothes and got to work on all the injuries on his body first. His chest rising and falling as you worked comforted you by a fraction, but the lack of sighs and grunts made you acutely aware that his head injury needed treating soon.

You quickly disappeared to your room and ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of your blanket before coming back and dropping onto your knees by Din’s side yet again. You gathered all the materials you needed before securing the fabric around your eyes and tying it in the back of your head. You took a deep breath before reaching for Din’s helmet. You pressed a switch, and heard the hiss as you slowly lifted it from his head and placed it softly on the ground next to you.

You lifted him slightly and stuck a leg out underneath his shoulders, so you could feel the back of his head and assess the injury. You located to wound fairly easily, and while it wasn’t large, it was bleeding a lot, so you applied a bacta spray to it after wiping his hair first. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you ran your hands through his hair. You slowly felt his face using the hand not covered in blood, checking for any smaller injuries that may be there. You found nothing, and rested your hand on his cheek while you sighed, hoping you’d done enough for the meantime. You were shocked when you felt Din’s hand cover yours, and you immediately went to pull your hand away but his grip tightened.

He cleared his throat and croaked out a small “Thank you”. You smiled at his unfiltered voice, the first time you’d ever heard it. And while it was barely there, and scratchy, after all he’d been through, it was still him, and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have heard it in all it’s beauty.

“It’s okay… I could probably do a better job of it, but with the blindfold, there’s only so much I can-“

“Take it off..” he whispered, and you flinched back in shock, not knowing if you heard him correctly.

After a beat of silence, his hand came up to rest on your cheek, mirroring your actions, and he slowly lifted the material covering your eyes. He chuckled and coughed a little when he noticed your eyes screwed shut. He came to rest his hand on your cheek again, the unfamiliar feel of his skin warm against yours, as his thumb moved slowly across your cheekbone. “You can open your eyes, cyar’ika… it’s okay.”

You slowly obliged, and you were completely taken aback by his features. His soft brown eyes looked up at you, and despite the pain that must be coursing through his body, he was smiling at you. You took notice of his curly brown locks, some of which were stuck to his forehead. You brushed them away, before running your fingers down his hooked nose, to rest on his lips, where he lightly kissed your fingertips. Before you knew it, tears were falling from your eyes, and his face contorted into one of concern.

“I’m sorry, Din.” You breathed out as he swiped his thumb under your eye.

“What do you have to be sorry for, mesh’la?” He spoke, his voice a little stronger now.

“The Creed. I’ve seen your face. You can’t go back now. I’m so sorry.” You hung your head, and felt him slowly manoeuvre himself to sit up in front of you.

“What if I don’t want to go back?” He all but whispered, lifting your chin.

You met his gaze again and was frozen in place as he lent towards you and slowly brought your lips to his. You barely had time to react before he pulled away, your lips almost chasing his as he smiled against you.

“I’ve been thinking for a long while now, about you… about us. I get this unfamiliar feeling deep inside me when I think of you. When I see you with the Child. At first I dismissed it, thinking that was just how it felt to finally have a real friend. But then I would get worried sick when I was out looking for bounties... worried about you. Worried that something would happen to you here in the Crest and I’d be none the wiser. Then I realised. It was love.” He fell into silence, and you both sat there for what felt like an eternity, comfortable to just be there with each other, no more words needing to be exchanged.

He finally spoke up again, “I never acted on it, always telling myself ‘This is the way’. Telling myself this is the life I was born to live, it’s not fair to drag you into it. I never thought, for a second, that you could feel the same. But seeing you now, scared that I might be dying, but still blindfolding yourself to respect the Creed… that was all the confirmation I needed. Tell me I’m right?” He pulled away slightly to look in your eyes, and you saw tears brimming in his.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, before leaning in to kiss him back. Your lips touched, and in this kiss, you felt everything that had gone unspoken this past year. You broke apart and whispered against his lips, “I’ve always loved you Din.”

He whispered something back in Mando’a, and while you didn’t understand it, you’re sure you knew what he meant. You leaned back to look at him once more, and as you brushed his hair from his face, he winced slightly. His injuries dawned on you again, and you slowly rose, helping him to his cot. You fetched him a glass of water, something to dull the pain, and something to eat, and out of habit, started to leave, when he grabbed your wrist and silently pleaded with you to stay. He moved to lay on his side and you joined him in his cot, resting your back against his chest. He closed his eyes, and couldn’t quite believe you were here in his cot, laying pressed against him, like he dreamed of not long ago. He remembers a time when he would chastise himself for thinking you would ever feel this way, and yet here you were.

The door to his quarters opened with a hiss and the Child moved slowly over to the bed, looking at the pair of you with his wide eyes. You leaned down to pick him up and place him against your chest, where he promptly fell asleep. Din wrapped his arm around both you and the Child and held you both securely as he drifted off. You stayed awake a little while longer, just laying there smiling to yourself. As sleep finally consumed you, only one thought danced in your mind, you were finally a clan of three.

[buckyreaderrecs]

Wax and Wane

Summary: Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised.

Words: 5,614 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Thor Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower still exists, other Marvel characters are mentioned but aren’t central to plot, recovering Bucky, not angsty but a sad story, she/her pronouns Warnings: illness/death, sick children, grief

Note: This was written for Nik's 1k Writing Challenge - @serpienten  My dialogue prompt was, "I'll keep you warm. Hold me closer." I hope you love it, Nik! 

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

Wax and Wane

As the paint was brushed gently across their skin in broad strokes, you could read the joy and pleasure in their sweet little faces. It was a very minor and short term relief from their day-to-day pain, but it was the very least you could do. Face painting wasn't going to cure cancer or mend broken bones, but it made the residents of the hospital's children's ward happy.

Most of the long-term patients knew you. You were the girl in the tutu and butterfly wings that would come and blow bubbles and make them smile. But on that day, you weren't the one they were excited for.

The children were in a frenzy as The Avengers entered the room, dressed in their best outfits (minus any dangerous weaponry, you assumed). You stood to the side of the room with the doctors, nurses, and parents, and listened along with an enraptured audience as Captain America and Iron Man introduced the team. The kids couldn't sit for long, so very quickly the nibbles and treats were brought out and the room calmed into a soft party atmosphere.

As soon as you'd set up your station, there was a line of children wanting to have webs and stars painted. You worked quickly, getting through the line fast. Staying put, you only had a chance to briefly survey the room before Liam, one of your most special friends, trotted up to you, pulling along someone new.

"Hey, Liam," you greeted. He let go of his new friend's hand to hug you.

"Look, Y/N!" he said, pointing up. "It's Bucky!"

You looked up at Bucky Barnes, who would have towered over you even if you had been standing. The child's size plastic chair you were on really added a comical size difference though.

"Hi, Bucky," you said, coy smile. Bucky softly smiled back. "You're Liam's favourite,"

"Yeah, I told'ed him that!" Liam said, not a shred of self-consciousness in the child. "And now we can be matching,"

"Matching?" you asked.

"Yeah, 'cause you do the painting and you can paint my arm like Bucky's," Liam explained, holding his prosthetic arm out in demonstration.

Glancing up at Bucky to make sure he was privy to the plan, he simply gave a little shrug.

"Sounds good to me. How about you sit in this chair here, Liam, and we get Bucky to sit right next to us on the floor. Is that okay?" you asked both of them.

Liam jumped into the seat, sticking his arm out ready.

Bucky had a bit of a harder time folding himself down, but he eventually managed to sit in front of you comfortably.

"Okay if I borrow your arm for a bit?" you asked Bucky.

He nodded and held it out to you. When you took it, laying it across one of your legs so you could copy the seams and markings, Bucky held his breath. Most people hesitated. He figured some of them were afraid, and some didn't want to appear rude. Not you though. To you, his arm was just that - an arm. You'd kinda grown used to celebrities (is that what superheroes are classified as? you wondered to yourself) by then. Make a Wish and fundraising events and all that jazz… Turns out most famous people are pretty normal, boring even.

Bucky watched you pull a bunch of markers out of your kit and begin replicating the aesthetic of his vibranium arm onto Liam's plastic prosthetic. He let you gently move him as needed, and found himself in awe of how good your Sharpie skills were.

"You're really good," he said, speaking up for the first time.

Liam held most of the space in the conversation, which was fine by both of you. He told Bucky about his illness, and how even though he'd lost his arm, he was the "luckiest kid in New York" because he was alive and because he got to meet The Avengers. There were shades of adult in his words, like he'd been told of his own luck before.

While Liam spoke, you stole glances at Bucky. Mostly, his gaze was on Liam, sometimes darting over to you and away just as fast; he was avoiding eye contact. However, he quickly would turn to focus on particularly loud sounds or doors opening. If you'd had a chance to watch any of the other heroes in the room, you'd note they all did the same.

"Doin' okay, Liam?" you checked in when the boy had gone quiet.

Liam nodded frantically, not wanting to disappoint. "Yeah!" he affirmed.

"Maybe just need a little nap after this, huh buddy?" you asked.

"Maybe," he replied, relieved that there was a nap in his future.

"Think I might need one too," Bucky chimed in. Liam giggled like it was a joke.

"All done!" you announced.

When the very elated Liam was done tippy tapping and hugging, he ran off to show his parents how absolutely cool he was.

You and Bucky stood, both stretching out your limbs.

"Think you've made a friend for life there," you told him; he softly smiled in reply. "Can I just say something that might be way out of place? I just… I don't know… I feel like you need to hear it."

Bucky frowned, studied your face for a second. "Sure,"

"Okay… So… You do know that you deserve to be here, right?"

Mostly his expression was blank, then his head tilted to the side just a little. You'd been reading him the whole time, he realised. He felt exposed. But there was nowhere to run to.

"Maybe…" he finally settled on saying.

"Maybe?" you scoffed. "I mean, kids are lining up to meet you… And you're not questioning if, like, Wanda Maximoff or Natasha Romanoff should be here, you know what I mean?"

Bucky looked over to where Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were forming a girl gang. "They're different. It's different," he argued, but his words were laced with too much sadness for you to give in.

"Yeah… If you wanna get technical, weren't you the only one under mind control or whatever?" you posed.

Bucky looked at you, tried to figure out why you were being so… persistently kind. Your logic made sense, and something in him considered believing it.

"I'm just saying," you continued, "You deserve to be here. And if you don't wanna accept that, then it can be like… Liam deserves for you to be here."

That, Bucky could get behind. He nodded. "Thank you," he said, awkward but earnest.

You shrugged it off, then took a slow step towards him. "Hug?"

He blinked stupidly, then nodded, opening his arms and letting you step into them. While you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slid his arms around you. People around the room, even the ones that didn't know Bucky, watched how his hands lingered in the air before settling on your back. They saw how he melted into the hug, let his head rest on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

When you stepped away from each other, he'd inherited some of your fairy glitter.

"I'll see you next time, I guess," you offered, letting your sentence trail off enough that Bucky could catch it if he wanted. There was room for him to say anything. But, he just nodded.

Bucky watched you walk away.

Sam appeared at his side. "So, are you gonna-" Sam said, the amusement clear in his tone.

"Don't," Bucky interrupted.

"She's clearly-"

"I said don't," Bucky snapped, walking out of the room.

Sam went to follow, worried he'd genuinely upset his friend, but he caught Steve's eye. A subtle shake of the head told him to stand down.

…

Although you buried it deep inside, there was some small part of you that thought maybe you'd hear from Bucky. You weren't exactly sure why you thought that was going to happen. It was easy to let that idea fall in the face of logic though; he was an Avenger… very busy… very private… etc. etc. Nonetheless, that small part stayed alight, and it fed your dreams all the way through to the next time you would cross paths with Bucky again.

It was a different hospital, but the same type of event. Sparkle and shine and cheer the kids up. Although there were less Avengers than the first, the children were entirely chuffed with meeting their heroes. And, this event had something the previous did not. Thor. His laugh bellowed all through the ward's corridors, providing a sharp contrast to the otherwise sterile mundane life of the hospital.

Thor promised the children that it wasn't that they weren't worthy of wielding Mjolner, it was that they just weren't ready yet. "You're far too little! When you're big and strong, like me!" He filled the children with more hope than they'd had in a long time.

Your attention constantly being drawn to the larger-than-life Asgardian was a welcomed distraction… You were trying to give Bucky space, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he could. You wouldn't push it. Two superheroes that apparently did want to talk to you, though, were Falcon and Captain America.

Like you were their mission, there was hardly a second where one of them wasn't by your side. Sam was entirely unhelpful, giving creative input to all the face painting. He made the kids laugh though, often at jokes that went over their innocent heads. It was his sassy tone they really liked. Steve was a little calmer, answering weird and wonderful questions only children could think up.

They were both charming, personable, and genuinely fun to be around, but what were they doing? Were they trying to coax Bucky in? Provide a buffer? Or, no… Maybe they were keeping you from him? Shaking the thought from your head, you simply blew bubbles and painted faces and covered the room in confetti.

You would have liked to say you didn't notice when Bucky slipped from the room, not returning, but that small part of you most definitely did. It most definitely noticed and you most definitely felt the effect of him not speaking to you, not even offering a smile across the room.

"Did I do something?" you finally asked Steve, not needing to explain the context.

"No… It's not you…" he answered, looking over at the door Bucky had left through. "He's just… He's trying…"

…

The children's ward was quiet. It was like that on Tuesday mornings. No events. Rounds over. Just the everyday life of sick children and distraught parents. As you walked down the corridor, you glanced through open doorways on your way to the nurses' station.

It was a hard place to be.

Something caught your eye and you stopped yourself a second too late, passing the room before you could see what it was. A flash of something. Stepping back, you snuck a look around the corner.

A sunbeam off vibranium. Bucky Barnes was folded next to a bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on them. He was asleep. You took a step into the room, then looked to the occupant of the bed. Your heart dropped. Liam.

Liam was asleep in bed, sweating and small.

Cautiously, you crept further into the room. Neither of them stirred, so you took a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Bucky and reached over to pick up Liam's chart from the end of his bed. It didn't say a lot, just the need-to-know for nurse rotation. But you knew those medications enough to know it was bad. Really bad. The emotions caught were too big. You put the chart back; the plastic-hitting-plastic sound it made woke Bucky up. He shot up, chair almost knocked to the ground if it weren't for his reflexes. He looked across the bed at you then, recognition instant. A worried expression took over his face.

"Y/N?"

"He's sick again," you said, your voice sounding far away.

Bucky tracked your gaze to Liam. He nodded. "Yeah… They, ah… It came back… His parents went home to get some sleep. I said I'd stay." When you didn't move, didn't say anything, Bucky grew nervous. He could hardly handle his own reaction, let alone yours too. "They, the hospital, got in touch when he came back in. Said that… I could help. Make him feel… brave, or… I don't know.. It's been a couple weeks, but…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it and you didn't need to hear it.

"I've… I've got to… go…" you said.

When you stood up, you wobbled on the spot and tried to take a step to the door. Bucky was next to you before you even clocked him moving.

"Come on. Don't wanna wake him," Bucky whispered, helping you out of the room gently.

In the corridor, away from the door, you felt the wet hot tears roll down your face. Stupid, you thought to yourself, you should be used to this. It's happened before. The obvious and cruel downside to volunteering in the pediatric ward of a hospital.

Bucky stood in front of you, watching for only a couple seconds before pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you into his chest, your arms curled comfortably between him and you.

"He's talked about you. He'd wanna see you... Come back this afternoon and see him."

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut tightly.

"Okay," you tried, your voice squeaky and small.

"Okay," Bucky repeated, trying to channel the humanity pre-Hydra Bucky showed when Steve's mother passed away. He knew what to say and do then. "You're okay… Go… Go do what ya need to. We'll be here. I've got him," he said.

When he let you go, you felt cold. You wiped your tears, nodded once and looked up at him.

"Go," he prompted, and you nodded again, turning and walking away.

…

"Yeah, I don't know what that is,"

"Finding Nemo?!" Liam repeated, like if he said it louder Bucky was more likely to recognise the title.

You chuckled from the seat next to Bucky's.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Everyone knows just keep swimming, Buck," you told him with a shrug.

"Guess that's another one for the list then," he said, pulling his phone out and adding the film to his ever-growing list of 'to watch'.

Hours could go by like that. You, Liam, and Bucky sitting around, reciting movie quotes to each other. Guessing titles. Laughing at all the gaps in Bucky's pop culture knowledge. Liam loved feeling smarter than an adult, and he completely lost himself in hysterical laughter when Bucky burst out his chair in joy when he finally recognised a film.

"Star Wars!" Bucky had screamed so loud the nurse came in to shush him. "Luke, I am your father!" Bucky whispered at her, grinning ear to ear. Then there was the Harry Potter time. "I got tricked into watching them," Bucky had said, shaking his head. Apparently, during his stay in Wakanda, Shuri had convinced him that Scarlet Witch and those who attended Hogwarts were from the same breed. He should, she said, watch it so he understands Wanda Maximoff better. Shuri would remember Bucky's face forever when he came back from visiting Team Cap.

"My turn," Liam said. He thought for a second. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," he said, his voice forced as deep as his tiny child body would allow.

"Woah! Who let you watch that?!" you said, completely horrified.

"My cousin David," Liam snitched immediately. "The horse head didn't even look real,"

"It didn't," Bucky confirmed, again, happy to identify The Godfather. "Alright, my turn… Ah… Okay. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

You were as lost as Liam.

"We give up," Liam reported after maybe five seconds of thinking.

"Casablanca?! Come on, guys. It's a classic!" Bucky argued.

"God, you're showing your age," you teased.

"Alright, you do better,"

"Easy," you cleared your throat for dramatic effect, "To infinity and beyond!"

"TOY STORY!" both Liam and Bucky yelled in unison.

Liam then taught Bucky how to act out the "Buzz, will you get up here and give me a hand?" scene, complete with thrown prosthetic.

…

"Theeeeeee… beeeeestest… leaf!"

You and Bucky ran off in opposite directions. The hospital courtyard wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with nature, but it was enough to complete a little scavenger hunt.

On Liam's orders, you returned with the most impressive leaf you could find. Bucky was right behind you. Handing them over, Liam carefully considered them from his bunded up seat in his wheelchair.

"The winner is…" he said, pausing to cough. "Y/N!"

"What?!" Bucky screeched.

"Calm down. It's one-all," you reminded him. His feather was iridescent therefore better than your grey pigeon one.

Bucky grinned at you, ever competitive and ever aiming to make Liam happy. "Alright," he said. "What's next, little man?"

…

"Not today, guys," the nurse replied when you ask if Liam could go for a walk.

"Maybe we'll just read a couple chapters of The Lord of the Rings then, yeah?" you said, turning your suggestion to Bucky.

Bucky nodded solemnly, suddenly and deeply affected by the reminder of Liam's weakening state, of mortality.

Before entering Liam's room, you reached out and touched Bucky's arm. He stopped, looked at you with glossy eyes. You don't wanna see it, think it, but sadness didn't take away from Bucky's beauty.

"You okay?" you asked.

It was a loaded question and almost a rhetorical one. Bucky knew that. He didn't answer, just gave you a weak, lopsided smile.

"You Sam or Frodo today?" he asked, shaking it off and moving again.

…

For the whole time you'd known Bucky, his size had always been so obvious. Sitting beside children, beside Liam, he looked like a giant. Even next to the nurses that came and went he towered. Small hospital chairs. Small plastic cups. Small, sanitised rooms.

So, when you turned the corner and saw Bucky sitting on the floor of the pediatric ward's hallway, looking so fucking small, it stopped you in your tracks. His head was in his hands, and you knew what it meant.

Slowly, step by heavy step, you walked the hallway and came to stand in the doorway of what was once Liam's room. The bed had been stripped of linen, but wasn't yet made ready for the next patient. The charts were gone, and the many tubes and plastic bags of chemicals too. A crushed, empty juice box was on the ground.

Behind you, a nurse cleared her throat.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry… We tried to call ya this morning but-"

"I left my phone at home… I was running late. Locked myself out my apartment. Left half my kit there too. Was late to this fairy party gig I had downtown… Bad day… and-" you were rambling, tears slowly running down your face. The nurse's hand gently cupping your shoulder stopped you.

"S'alright, love… Nothing you could've done. But it's good you're here now. Reckon the Sergeant here might need a little TLC, yeah?"

Nodding, you wiped your tears away on the sleeve of your hoodie. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to be wearing a pink tutu.

The nurse left you alone with Bucky.

Bucky, who had not moved a single inch since you arrived. Bucky, who looked small. Bucky.

"Let's go," you said, kneeling on the lino floor in front of him. "Think maybe a crying fairy and ah, statue Winter Soldier might confuse the kids… So… let's go."

You thought maybe he wasn't going to reply, but he lifted his head, faced up. Bucky's eyes were rimmed red, but they were dry. He looked haunted. Shaking his head the smallest amount, he told you, "I… I can't… can't leave him…"

"Okay… Okay, yeah. Um…" You looked up and down the hallway, trying to think while your head was drowning in grief. "Alright, um… My van is downstairs, in the lot. Let's just… I don't know, get that far."

Bucky just starred at you. For one… two… three… "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing.

He didn't say a word as he followed you into the elevator and down to the carpark. People tried to not stare as you walked by.

Arriving at your van, you opened the back and shoved some things out of the way, pulling the small mattress and pillows down from where they were propped up against the side. Turning to face Bucky, you read the confusion in his face.

"Oh, ah… I don't live in it… I just…" There was no point in sugar-coating at that point. "I spend half my time around sick kids, you know? I need somewhere to be when it gets too much. Somewhere to… cry or sleep for an hour or whatever."

Bucky looked from the van to you, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We can just stay here… for as long as you need…" you offered, feeling embarrassment swell in you, but it quickly gave way to the apathy summoned by abject grief.

If Bucky thought it was weird, he didn't say and you wouldn't have cared. He didn't though. He moved to sit where he could politely unlace his boots and nudge them under the van, then he scooted back onto the mattress, laid down. You crawled in after him, closing the doors behind you.

He'd returned to his state of seeming too big for his surroundings, curled up in the back of your van. When you laid down next to him, he looked over at you. "Thank you," he said, voice croaky.

As tears began to form in his eyes, you had the grace to pretend not to notice. "I think there's a blanket somewhere…" You sat up, looking over a box of costume fairy wings. Before you could locate the blanket, Bucky's arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you into him.

Your back was to his chest, his face buried somewhere between your neck and the pillow.

"I'll keep you warm," Bucky said, "Hold me closer." So, you did, putting your arms over his and threading your fingers between his. You didn't need to be kept warm, but he needed to hold onto something solid, someone living, breathing, real, and there. He needed you.

…

Usually, sleeping in the back of the van was fine. When a super soldier was taking up 80% of the space, however… different story. You lasted forty minutes before snaking your way out, jumping over the front bench seat to sit behind the wheel.

Bucky was definitely dead to the world. You could hear his heavy sleep-induced breathing. But, you couldn't just drive off with him in the back. That would pretty much be kidnapping an Avenger, right? You looked over the seat at Bucky. Waking him up seemed like an equally bad idea, both practically and morally speaking. He was so peaceful.

So, against your better judgement, you got out, grabbed his boots, and jumped back in, putting the key in the ignition and turning.

At every car horn, New York pedestrian, and sharp turn, you glanced over to see if he'd been startled awake. Alas, sleeping beauty. After about fifteen minutes of sitting on your phone when you'd arrived home, parked in the back lot of your apartment complex, you ran out of feeds to refresh. Leaving the car key close to Bucky, where he'd see it, you left him there, figuring he'd probably be able to defend himself if anyone tried to steal the van.

Hours later, close to midnight, you found yourself walking around your place, lost and teary. Pulling your nightgown on, you left your apartment and ventured outside. It was cold. That type of night time chill that only exists when you're at your most sad. Bone freezing. Visible breathing.

There was no reply when you knocked on the back door of the van. Opening it, you were startled by Bucky's upright frame. He was sitting awake, back to the interior wall.

"Buck?"

No reply.

You were a little scared. Unsure of what to do next.

"I… I thought you could use the sleep. We're at my place now…"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want to come inside?"

You chewed your lip for a second, waited, but he remained still. His super soldier body would be fine without food or water for a little while longer, you reasoned. And, he constantly radiated heat.

"I'm apartment 5C. Come up when you're ready."

He didn't look over as you closed the door and retreated back into the safety of your home. There, you cried. Grieved. Tried to sleep. You told yourself you would make him come inside in the morning.

…

The sun rose red over New York City. You'd left your blinds open all night; waking up to natural like was meant to be good for you. Sitting up, you stretched the last remnants of a restless sleep off your heavy body and stepped out of bed.

Maybe Bucky got himself in overnight. Crept in through an unlocked window. Used some sort of superhero technology to unlock the front door. He wasn't on the couch, though, or anywhere in the apartment.

Teeth brushed and coffee brewing, you once again donned the nightgown and headed outside.

At least he's lying down, you thought, opening the van door.

Bucky was back under the blanket. He was awake, the lines under his eyes deep set and sharing space with purple shadows.

"Come on," you said. "You can't stay here. People are gonna come looking for you."

Slowly, Bucky rolled his head to the side to look at you. Previously, he was staring at the van ceiling. "Steve knows," he told you, throwing his phone over. It landed on the blanket with a gentle thud.

You didn't pick it up.

Bucky continued, "Messaged him last night. Phone's dead now,"

"Um… okay… Well, you should still come inside. There's more room,"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't defiance as much as it was apathy. You wanted to say something. Anything. Be reassuring. But to be honest, you were surprised by his grief.

Surely, the Winter Solider knew loss. Surely, he'd mourned and learnt to cope.

No… No, this was different, you told yourself. The first child who passed away when you started working with the hospitals destroyed you. It took a month to even go back to the pediatric ward. Since then, you'd put things into perspective and learnt to process everything a bit better. Not as equipped as the doctors and nurses to do so, but able enough to survive the pain.

The pain. Entirely unique. Something Bucky hadn't felt before.

He really thought he'd felt all the types of bad there was to feel. He really thought he was no longer able to love. Besides Steve. And Sam. Wanda. Nat. Shuri… Okay, so he was kidding himself. Still. It fucking hurt.

…

Around lunch, you took Bucky some food. Around dinner, you found it untouched but replaced it anyway.

It was a Sunday night. In the morning you were expected over at the palliative care centre. Reading aloud to the patients helps.

At 5:30 am, you woke from a fever dream. After shoving the sheets in the apartment building's basement washer, you called the centre.

"Oh, no worries, Y/N," they told you. "Sally's bringin' her new puppy in today. That ought to bring some cheer to the place anyway."

Guilt alleviated only slightly, you trekked to the van.

At least he'd nibbled on dinner at some point.

"Bucky?"

It was dark still, the sun only just waking up. You could make out Bucky's form in amongst your stuff.

"You have to come inside today. I…" Guilt. Maybe a guilt trip would work. "I need my van for work…" It almost sounded like a question. "And, I'm sure you've got things you need to do…" No response. "Superhero stuff?"

A muffled snort, but nothing else.

…

"Any chance you can just leave him there?"

For a second, you thought Steve was joking. The silence at the end of the line said otherwise.

"Ah, I mean, it's been almost two days,"

"I can get a car sent over to you if-"

"No," you interrupted. "That's not it. I'm just… Is this normal?"

Steve sighed. "There's not a normal for us, Y/N. There's just… coping… day by day."

Holding in tears, you nodded to yourself. "Yeah, okay. I, ah, just wanted to check in. See if there's anything I should be doing,"

"I'd wager that you're already doing it… It means something that he's chosen to be near you. He could have run. He does sometimes. So, really, for him, this is… progress. He trusts you."

You're weren't sure what you'd done to deserve that.

"Thanks, Steve,"

"Anytime. Call anytime, Y/N."

When you'd phone Stark Tower looking for help, you didn't really expect to be taken seriously. As it turned out, they were waiting for your call.

…

To your relief, Bucky was sitting up when you opened the van doors around 5 pm. He watched in interest as you awkwardly climbed in, handing him the tray you were carrying so you could settle in next to him.

"Choc chip cookies and tea," you announced, not letting him give the tray back. "And I'm not leaving until you drink your cup and have at least two cookies."

Bucky looked down at the presentation in his lap. "Guess I can't argue with that."

You chewed your cookie slowly, making sure you'd not finish before him.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah… I bake when I'm… Whatever," you replied.

He nodded, then took another bite.

"You called Steve?"

"How'd-"

Bucky shrugged. "Just figured you would. What'd he say?"

"Um… That you're okay here," you told him.

Bucky didn't reply, instead picked up his mug of tea and held it between his palms. The china softly chinked against his left hand.

You wanted to ask if he was indeed okay, but you weren't sure of what you'd be able to say if he lied. Or told the truth. Or anything in between.

When the tray was empty of food, you climbed out of the van, and half-heartedly asked if he was coming inside.

"I'm fine here," was his equally half-hearted reply.

Together, maybe, you could make a whole person, something functioning and able to cope better than either of you were doing alone.

Back inside your apartment, you ran out of plain flour and dishes to clean. All that was left to do was mourn.

…

It had been three nights and days since you'd arrived home from the hospital. Almost eighty hours of saying goodbye to Liam and telling yourself to be grateful that you knew him, and that you were able to help him laugh and find joy in his final few weeks. Hours of phone calls to friends, family, and your favourite nurses. Hours of standing at your apartment door, ready to march down to the van and pull Bucky out by his boots. Hours of it all.

Like all things though, good or bad, it was waning and you were beginning to see how you could survive.

You were sitting at the kitchen bench, practising your pipe cleaner and pom pom crown-making skills when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at your phone as you stood, you thought it was around dinner time. Probably next door, asking to borrow an egg. Or the old lady from down the hall that always made too much lasagne.

Without checking the peephole, you opened the door with your best polite smile ready.

Bucky.

The sight of him hit you, not like a tidal wave, but a waist-deep wave that knocks you back unexpectedly. You stumbled, had to refocus. Felt a little out of control.

Out of the mess of the back of the van, it was easier to see how utterly fucked he looked. His long hair was ratty, visibly knotted in parts. Expression strung out, he looked like he was in amphetamine withdrawal. His skin was too shiny, and his clothes were crumpled and damp in places.

Bucky went to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked pained, then sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hoodie's arm.

Without any warning, you burst into tears.

Your hands went up to cup your mouth but it was too late. The sobs were heaving up from deep inside you, and Bucky was born with too much empathy to not be affected. Tears began to roll down his face.

And that was it. Any pretence or attempt to be stoic was entirely dissolved. You crumbled into each other.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your head hard into his chest, almost pushing against him like you were trying to push the feelings out of yourself.

"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

As his arms tightened around your body, you could feel how it was calming you. It was only a short term relief from the grief, but it was the very least Bucky could think to do. Holding you wasn't going to make anything better, but it made you both feel less alone.

Showers and fuzzy bed socks. Hot cocoa and trashy television. Sleeping close. Waking up together.

From the deep unwanted darkness of grief, something was determined to find a way to grow.

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @bubbabarnes

(not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) 

[northernxstories]

Trading in Dignity

It was shocking how quickly it all came to an end. It started in the 2020s and within a decade, after the third global pandemic, they were faced with the worst yet. All the science deniers, those who refused to distance, wear masks and all of that ... well, most of them caught it. Some of them caught it without showing a single symptom. That didn’t matter because approximately eight months after you were infected, after you thought you were all well again, your lungs started to bleed. Nothing could make it stop. You drowned in your own bed, at night, sometimes in mere minutes. Most of the time, you just went to sleep and never woke again. It was grim.

The survivors were rare and the disease progressed so quickly, institutions fell almost overnight. Whole cities became ghost towns. Survivor teams started sweeping, looking for children, infants, pets trapped in houses and then supplies. Survivors came first. There were a lot of supplies. Not that many people.

She was rare and she knew it. Immune. How? No idea. Luck? Genetics? It didn’t matter at the end of the day. The world grieved and cities were abandoned for smaller communities. It wasn’t like in the horror movies or post-apocalypse fiction. No one ate people, bought and sold people, or any of that ridiculousness. For the most part people tried to help one another. Older people banded together to raise the children who survived. With the population reduced in the span of a decade to less than a third, it became very clear that every single human was a necessary addition. Funny how prejudice and differences in sexuality mattered a whole lot less when the end of the human race was at stake. All that shit became real irrelevant real fast.

In a spate of particularly weird coincidence, some communities lost more of a certain type of people. The east coast of North America for example had nearly no men left. It was startling, You could travel for days, scout many towns and communities and find less than a dozen males. West of the Rocky mountains however, the opposite was true. The average was 1 self-identified female to 20 self-identified males (like people were checking - get real). Some communities the ratio was more like 100 to 1. In the mid-west, prairie region, well there was almost no people left there at all. No one knew why they were so hard hit but the coasts survived. Perhaps it was just population distribution. Scientists would be studying it long after she was dead.

So, in a world where you lived with almost 100 men in your community and the number of single women could be counted on one hand, and you wouldn’t need every finger? Yeah. This was fantastic. 

Again, it wasn’t like the books though. She wasn’t chained, or bound or really mistreated in any way. Nope. None of that.

She was a strong survivor. She had a thriving garden and a number of animals of her own. Her house was cute as hell and in really good shape. Her grandmother had taught her to sew and the rest she learned from books. The little town was powered by a local dam that kept the predatory animals such as the dog packs, at bay with electrified fencing in key areas, including around her goats whom the wolves thought looked super yum yum.

But even she needed supplies. I mean, was she going with a raiding party into a city to get tampons and advil? Ummm ... no obviously. That was terrible. That’s how people died! Those places were not safe. It took rigging and expertise she did not have to be on a scavenger team. Plus do you think they would be cool having one of the few women in town go out with them? You’re dreaming if you think that’s gonna happen buddy and no one went without a team. That was a fucking death wish.

So, she had to shop. She had to trade. Fact of life. They didn’t want her tasty preserves or baking. Nope. That they could do for themselves. She traded the one thing that few had around her - her pussy. Fucked up right? 

Prostitution was the oldest game in the book for a reason it turned out. So she went into the store and put in her order for supplies that she needed. Flour, tampons, books for example. There was a tally and a calculation conducted. She was a modest girl. It rarely went above two visits. Then there was a jar. Yup. A fucking jar, with names on it. Men who had paid into the credit system. 

“One” The merchant stated bluntly marking it in his book. 

“One?” She repeated, a little surprised by how light the requirement was. Her list had been pretty long.  

“Yeah, Bernice fell pregnant, she’s off the list until after and maybe permanently since the Bennett brothers are putting serious court to her. All remaining traders just had their value go up.” 

That’s what they called them - traders. Like she was wheeling a cart through town with little jars or something instead of letting men cum in a minimum of two holes per trade. It was awesome. By the way, that was sarcasm in case you can’t tell.

“Nice.” She replied with a nod, “I hope the baby is healthy.” That was the customary statement these days when anyone fell pregnant. You see, the virus didn’t exactly go away and infant mortality was high as fuck. It was depressing as hell. She didn’t know a single woman who didn’t half dread getting knocked up, even if they really wanted to be a mother. It was a huge risk and all too likely to end in just more painful loss. Yay for survival.

“We all do.” the merchant stated sincerely as he pushed the jar toward her. Sliding her hand in, she let slips of paper, card stock that was refreshed so often you couldn’t get a feel for any one particular person, just dance through her fingertips. You just had to stick your hand in and pray to whatever god you might actually believe in that you didn’t get one of the gross old coots who thought bathing was fucking optional. Last time she had one of those she had about forty baths and still felt disgusting.

She pulled out the card and took a deep breath before flipping it over. Both her and the merchant looked surprised. “Well good luck there. Didn’t even know he paid in.” The merchant marked his book and then nodded. “I’ll get your order in as soon as ... you have about four days before you’ll have had to pay up.” 

That was another thing, the man had to confirm you had ‘paid’. However, if that man lied, he was off the books permanently. Not only that but the other men in town usually paid you a visit and beat the holy hell out of you. It was an honour system true but most followed the rules, out of honour or out of necessity, it didn’t matter at the end of the day. Men who might only get one fuck a year with a ‘willing’ woman weren’t about to lose the privilege because you decided to get fucking cute about it.

“Thanks ... Have a good day now.” She replied with a sincere smile. The merchant was a good man after all. He never put his name in and if he found out one of the men was cruel or unkind even, he’d return their credits and tell them to start getting real used to the sweet feel of their left hand because that was about all they were getting from now on. 

She walked through town, that name flipping through her mind. It was just so unexpected. 

Well no time like the present she supposed. She had had a bath last night, given the old cunt a tidy and all that. She had a debt to pay and she just knew she wouldn’t sleep right until it was paid off good and proper. Yes, it was a little fucked up but that was the system and she had lived with it for a while now. Strangely you kinda got used to it. Most men were pretty appreciative about it. 

Walking down the main street, she noted the weird combination of old and new that had blended together in this world. Cars jerry-rigged with solar panels to charge the batteries travelled on the same road as horse-drawn carriages. Kids wore sneakers cause there were still plenty of those left in old stores but paired them with clearly homemade clothes and then spiked them with leather jackets kitted out with studs and chunks of cell phones used as artistic decoration.

She walked until she hit the slight outskirts of the main town area. She could see him now, his arm lifting as he pounded the steel into shape with a large hammer. Farriers, blacksmiths, knife-makers, welders and so on made a nice living in this new world. You could always tell who they were because they smelled like fire and had arms the size of her entire body it seemed. She licked her lips and straightened her back. For the first time in well over a year, she had to admit that she might just be looking forward to this one.

“Hey ...” She greeted. He put down the hammer and shifted up his eye protection, squinting at her in the bright light of day. “Hey.” He replied back, his voice a little gruff. “You looking for something?” He asked.

“Ummm ... pulled your name.” Turns out all the cool things she was saying in her head since pulling his name had just fallen right on out of her brain. Well I wasn’t cool before, she thought bleakly with a tinge of amusement, Guess I’m not now either. Maybe the next apocalypse.

He stopped, frowning lightly as if he wasn’t sure what she was talking about and then his expression cleared and his eyes grew wide. “Oh.” he said. It was actually more of a sound. He cleared his throat. “I ... I  ... yeah. Now?” he queried.

When she nodded, “If you have the time. Otherwise ... I can come back.” I can come back. What the hell, was she Uber Eats? What the fuck is wrong with her?

He shook his head, “Now is good.” He tipped his head toward the interior. “Let me shut this down a bit and then I’ll wash up and be in.” 

He seemed nervous. Why did she like that so much? Maybe she was bored of the older guys who just had you bend over or would just unzip when they saw you coming. No effort man. No fucking effort. Literally. Wham bam, you’ve paid for your groceries Ma’am.

Mr. Muscles here better put in some damn effort at least.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

10-16 with Jeremy?

heck yeah gonna throw this under a readmore tho

10. what their most treasured possession is

i wrote this lil fic like... on my old account where jeremy had a magic kit when he was a kid and tbh? i could see that being his most treasured possession! his dad bought it for him and he would put on lil magic shows for his parents and for michael. it just reminds him of happier and simpler times.

11. what sort of tv shows/movies they’d enjoy

jeremy 100% watched stuff like doctor who and star trek with michael and his parents. jerm’s mom was a fuckin huge trekkie and his dad loves star wars so i can imagine jeremy being big into both due to the family ties they have!

but in general, i see jeremy being huge into sci-fi shit, as well as like... some comedic stuff, like b99. he and christine 100% watch b99 together imo

he 100% has a secret love of cheesy romcoms that he shares w christine and rich. they have their own lil movie nights at christine’s house and its nice

12. what sort of video games they’d enjoy

all. 

but honestly, i could see jeremy being big into stuff like resident evil or any of the telltale games (especially tales from the borderlands, which... i have been playing recently lmao), or uhhh the fallout series maybe? 

other than that, the stereotypical pokemon-zelda-mario stuff. he 100% used to play sonic a lot as a kid but he doesn’t really play the newer stuff. owns a copy of sonic boom completely because michael bought it for him as a joke and they both laugh over how dumb it is. it’s good times.

13. what they carry in their bag/pockets

in his pockets:

his wallet

keys (just his house key, which has a fucking ton of keychains so he doesnt feel that bad abt not having a car) 

spare change, a couple receipts bc he forgets to throw them away

a packet of chewing gum thats starting to fall apart (just the box for it) (also: most often trident, either bubblegum flavor or pineapple twist)

and his cell phone

14. what they were like as a kid

jeremy wasn’t really an antisocial child imo. like, around adults? yeah, he’d clam up a little bit - not enough that he’d be completely silent, but he’d be a little bit more likely to stick to his parents if he was uncomfortable enough

i could also see jeremy being pretty well-behaved, mainly bc his parents were always really fuckin keen on him having manners. sure, he’d act out from time to time - but... primarily bc it’d give him some attention from his parents whenever he felt like they’d forgotten about him (which was rare, but he was a kid)

other than that, jeremy was a extremely active kid? always a little taller than most kids, always looking like the scrawny kid he is, but he fucking lived for recess when he was in elementary school. fuckin loved to play kickball. 

also: magician boy. loved the pizzazz of everything. 100% wanted a white rabbit for a couple years - never got one, since he was a kid and they didn’t trust him to take care of a rabbit yet, and eventually he settled for a plush white rabbit. 

15. what their family is like (+ their relationships w their family)

jeremy’s family is... sorta boring, in his opinion - and thats going beyond his parents.

his relationship with his dad was really, really good before the divorce. he was always close to his parents growing up, and then when things started to get messy as his parents argued a bit over what they wanted - eventually that dying down to civil conversation of maybe they should actually get a divorce, but what about jeremy, but this is what’s best - he started to sorta withdraw back into himself. post-squipcident, he’s trying. he and his dad are sorta just... trying to bring their relationship back to what it was, or make it better.

his mom was a divorce attorney, like she is in the book. i can see jeremy being very much of a mama’s boy - and, honestly, if it weren’t for her plans (and if jeremy didn’t have a life in metuchen, like his friendship with michael and a lot of shit at middleborough), i think jeremy could have ended up living with her? i can see his mom moving to some big city tbh. their relationship is a little strained as well, but i can see jeremy finally responding to her texts/email/letters/whathaveyou with a phone call and asking if they could talk or something - post-squipcident, of course. she’s actually dating again and she’s been wanting jeremy to come visit her and meet her boyfriend. he wants to go, but... at the same time, he’s kinda worried about leaving his dad again.

his dad has a brother! he sorta helped jeremy and his dad when jeremys mom left. he lives in edison, nj. tbh he probably visits jeremy and his dad often, and he’s just a jolly dude. jeremy’s really fond of him - they’ve always gotten along. then again, his uncle is a big fucking robotics nerd and he keeps talking to jeremy about getting into that shit with michael, since his school does have a robotics club. jeremy’s actually considering it.

on his dad’s side, jeremy’s pretty close to his grandmother and was sorta close with his grandfather before he passed. he doesn’t get to see her as often as he’d like, since she doesn’t live in metuchen or anywhere close, but she makes some fucking killer pies and jeremy loves visiting her. she’s like... stereotypical sweet granny. 

on his mom’s side, her parents absolutely adore jeremy? it’s only really one-sided, since jeremy sorta doesn’t talk to them since the divorce - but they love to basically pester his dad (which results in them getting jeremy to talk to them) and find out everything jeremy’s been up to. 

his mother is probs the second oldest. i can see her having an older brother and a younger sister. i genuinely cant remember where book-jeremy got the beanie babies from to sell to get the squip, so uhhh i’ll probs update this later w more info haha once i find my copy of the pdf lmao

16. what their phone is like (case, apps, ect!)

jeremy spent fucking years with an iphone 5c (and im slightly projecting here, since i had a 5c until it stopped working :/) that had an black otterbox case. the screen is a little cracked, but nothing bad - phone still works great and the cracks arent too in the way.

as for apps, most of his apps are probably games that he found. just stuff to entertain him whenever he’s particularly bored. cookie run (which he fuckin tries to beat michael at but michael is Too Good and jeremy has the worst timing sometimes so he runs into shit all the time), he still has flappy bird on his phone and protects that app with his life. it shall never leave.

other than that, he probably has like... facebook and instagram, both of which he barely uses, and snapchat - mainly so he can bother michael with dumb snaps.

thank u anon ily im gonna go back to playing life is strange now

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

Oh yes I would love to hear explanations of why your otps are your otps!!

Really? Wow, okay, I don’t think you know what you’ve let yourself in for here haha. 

I’ll try and keep the explanations as short as possible, but there are times when I may get slightly carried away so forgive me haha. 

So as a reminder my OTP’s are Stefan/Elena (TVD), Eleven/Amy (DW), Jon/Ygritte (GOT), Buffy/Angel (BTVS), Michael/Jane (JTV), Monica/Chandler (Friends), Michael/Sara (Prison Break) and Dexter/Debra (Dexter). 

Emma/Regina (OUAT), Cook/Effy (Skins), Bonnie/Damon (TVD), Francis/Mary (Reign) and Jon/Sansa (GOT) are smaller OTP’s, but I’ll include them on the list. 

Stefan/ElenaStelena are the first ship I hardcore shipped when I actually knew what shipping was and for that reason they’ll always be special to me. I feel like I’ve spoken about why I love them so much in the past so I’m just gonna give a very brief answer and then link you to some previous asks and meta’s where I’ve talked about my love for them. In short, I love Stefan and Elena because of Nina and Paul’s chemistry which makes the relationship between them feel so realistic and organic, because of the people they became when they were together and the impact they had on each other’s lives, the inspiration they provided each other with to never give up, to always keep on fighting and live in the moment, the fact that they were genuine soul mates that connected from the first moment they met and remained connected even after Stefan’s death, that their love never stopped existing (to quote Klaus, “that kind of love never dies”) and that together they could’ve had the best possible future than they could’ve with anyone else (assuming they were both human). 

If you want to know more about why Stelena are my OTP you can also check out these posts (x) (x) (x) (x)Eleven/AmyWhere do I even start with these two dorks? With Eleven and Amy, they just captured me right from the very beginning. I adored their dynamic and the way Matt and Karen bounced off each other so perfectly. Just like Stefan and Elena, there’s the idea of soul mates (or in Doctor Who terms “the first face this face saw”) with Eleven and Amy that I’m really just a sucker for. It’s like they were always meant to find each other and be together. They both needed each other at the exact time that they met (again another Stelena theme) and something about that is so beautiful to me. I also think that Eleven freed Amy from a life of misery and the status quo that she was desperate to escape (a lot like Rose did in the early seasons) and gave her a better, more enriched and incredible life. Again, the idea of two people significantly impacting upon one another’s lives in a positive way is a concept I’m drawn to. 

I also love that they’re truly best friends - they trust each other, have fun together, confide in each other - but beyond that there’s this much more deeper and profound love. To me, Eleven and Amy’s love is that kind of love that’s not really quantifiable; you can’t put a label on it or really describe it because it’s so complex. It’s not “oh they’re best friends” or “oh they’re in love”, it’s a combination of the two and there’s still more layers to it than that, but there’s absolutely no denying their love and how powerful it is. 

I already wrote a pretty in-depth meta on Eleven and Amy that really does sum up the reasons I love them which you can read here. 

Jon/YgritteThis is a ship I never anticipated I’d fall in love with. Just like any of my other ships, the first aspect that I love about Jon and Ygritte is Kit and Rose’s chemistry (which is clearly amazing since they’re now engaged to each other haha). 

GOT as a show is generally pretty dark and depressing, but Ygritte brought light and joy into the show for me and I just loved her interactions with Jon. Jon as a character is pretty introverted, shy, broody and let’s face it sometimes socially awkward, but with Ygritte he came to life. Even though they met as enemies and Ygritte was his prisoner, there was an element of playfulness in their relationship from the start. Ygritte really challenged Jon, changed his perception of the world, opened his eyes to the prejudices towards Wildlings that his people and himself had, showed him the realities of their world and for that reason Jon became a more enriched and wise soul. And for Ygritte, Jon was someone different too, someone that changed her perceptions. They were quite literally from two different worlds, but that’s why they had such a huge impact on each other. Ygritte was a lot more headstrong and determined to maintain her morals, principles and opinions, but even she became more open and understanding. She said it herself, “You didn’t stop being a crow the moment you walked into Mance Rayders tent”. She knew he wasn’t a “true” Wildling and still technically “a crow” but she chose to overlook that and place her trust in Jon as the man she loved. 

In reality it’s a relationship that never would’ve worked in the world in which they lived, because they were too different. But at the same time, they had this profound connection and understanding. And I loved that through all their differences the two things they had in common were that they were warriors - they were willing to fight til their dying breath for what they believed in - and more importantly, they loved each other. Unlike what I said about Eleven and Amy and how complicated and complex their love/relationship was, Jon and Ygritte’s was utterly uncomplicated. They were in love and that was it. And it’s a love that was a beam of light amongst the darkness. It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means, but there were those moments of peace, tranquility, intimacy and laughter that they shared that are rarely found in the GOT universe. 

Buffy/Angel

I already answered why Bangel are my OTP in a previous ask and I really can’t add anymore than what I’ve already said. (x)

Michael/JaneMy heart’s not even ready to talk about these two. I’m still healing from Michael’s death. Michael and Jane really represent to me everything that a healthy and positive relationship should be. Two people that were best friends, had fun together, bounced off one another, had a complete understanding and acceptance of each other’s identities, had a mutual respect and consideration for one another, worked as a team to sustain and improve their relationship and build a life together for themselves, Mateo and any future children they had and let’s not forget, they were genuinely in love. 

I wasn’t sold on them from the get go, but as the seasons progressed their relationship proved to absolutely be the right thing for both Jane and Michael. They were just so compatible and so in sync. When they got married and moved in together, it was honestly the most enjoyable time for me to watch JTV. I’ve always loved the show, but that was the point where I actually got excited to watch episodes and I remember just a few episodes before Michael died I thought to myself, “Wow, I never expected JTV would get this good after Jane married Michael.” And the reason that always sticks in my head is because the writers decided to completely ruin that by killing Michael (yes, I’m still bitter, can you tell? haha) immediately afterwards. 

Generally, I find Jane and Michael’s relationship to be so fun and uplifting to watch. They were actually funny together and there’s so many times where I’d just be grinning like an idiot at the TV during their scenes. I love that they kinda broke that stereotype that when you’re in a long-term relationship you stop having fun or things become boring, because with them it never did. And even when they felt like they were at risk of that they made sure they kept things fun by singing karaoke and impulsively buying a cat haha. I also loved that they destroyed the trope of the boyfriend the female protagonist has at the beginning is the underdog and completely irrelevant. Too often in movies or TV the writers start off with a female character having a boyfriend but invest no time in that boyfriend and completely dismiss the relationship as being insignificant when the new handsome mysterious guy comes along to sweep her off her feet. I loved that the writers actually acknowledged that actually, Jane was with Michael for a reason and even though she was attracted to Rafael and fell in love with him, she was much more compatible with Michael and in the end chose him over the new handsome guy. 

Something I loved about their relationship when they got back together is that they really worked to resolve their issues in a mature and healthy way. I remember watching 3x09 and it really reaffirming for me what I loved so much about their relationship. Michael was stressed about trying to get into law school, which was making Jane feel unsettled and stressed and when she tried to confront Michael he lost his shit because he couldn’t deal with taking on her stress when he was already stressed about sitting his exams. And for a majority of the episode it was basically this cycle of them both being anxious and stressed but not communicating that effectively or dealing with it as a couple so it came out in frustration. But by the end of the episode they fully confide in each other about their worst fears and they say this: 

I was wrong to push you away. And I know we have to figure out how to deal with stress better as a couple. We just… have to find a way to relax that reminds us that even in the worst-case scenario… we still have each other, right?

And this right here is the perfect example of a mature, healthy marriage and a big part of why I love Jane and Michael so much. Particularly, since TV shows and any fictional couples in any media are generally not written in this way. We rarely see them face real-life problems that they then work together to overcome. But that’s exactly what a relationship should be - supportive, loving, accepting. It’s about knowing that no matter how hard or tough things get, it’s always easier because you have someone right by your side that’s there to tackle it with you. That kind of love is the best kind because it empowers the people involved and makes them stronger. 

Monica/ChandlerDo I really even need to explain why Monica and Chandler are my OTP? I don’t think there’s anyone in the history of the world that’s watched Friends and not loved (or at least admired) their relationship. Just like Michael and Jane, Monica and Chandler’s relationship is the ideal I strive towards and everything I think a relationship should be (except Monica and Chandler have an edge over Michael and Jane since Chandler didn’t die months after they were married). Everything I could say about them is exactly what I’ve already said about Jane and Michael, because for me the two relationships are very similar. Best friends that had total respect and understanding, that were completely in tune and understanding of who they were fundamentally as people, that were accepting of each other’s flaws (Monica of his social awkwardness, sarcastic jokes and commitment issues and Chandler of her “high maintenance” ways) and that worked together as equals to build a life together that would make them both happy. I genuinely can’t find a single critique of this relationship.

Michael/SaraWith Michael and Sara, I just love the subtly of them. Unlike most of these other shows, Prison Break never threw relationships in your face. Michael and Sara’s love was always there and you knew it was, but it wasn’t over-dramatised or given lots of cheesy dialogues because it wasn’t needed to solidify them as an amazing love story. 

What intrigued me about these two in the beginning was mostly that it was essentially a forbidden love and I think everyone has one of those ships. He was an inmate and she was a doctor. The only rule of Sara’s job was to never fall in love with an inmate. A rule that was utterly broken when Michael came along haha. I loved those first scenes with Michael and Sara in the infirmary because it was so simple but effective in showing the building bond between them. Michael was an inmate that wasn’t truly a criminal. He was the odd one out in prison, he wasn’t like the others and seeing Sara was the only bit of normalcy he really got. He really cherished those moments. And I think for Sara, she was kind of unfulfilled in her life and searching for a connection without even realising it and she found it in Michael. She saw something in him that she just couldn’t let go of. He intrigued her, excited her and she knew she had to figure him out. But I think Michael saw the same in her. He saw that there was something in her that was sad or broken and he wanted to know why, but he also just saw in her a beautiful soul. I think part of why I love Michael and Sara so much as a couple is because I love them so much as individual characters. Both of them are characters that at first seem pretty simple and obvious, but there’s a lot of depth to them. I still remember how shocked I was when it was revealed that Sara was a recovering addict. It put an entirely different slant on her character and made me understand her motivations, actions and behaviours in a completely different way. Of course, a large part of the reason Michael and Sara are my OTP is that they never stopped fighting for each other. I talk about Stefan and Elena never giving up on each other but in comparison to Michael and Sara, Stefan and Elena are pitiful. The circumstances upon which Michael and Sara met and the situation they were in for basically the entirety of their relationship meant they never really had the chance to develop a “normal” relationship. Their lives were in constant chaos and they were always in danger. Yet through all of that, they never, ever gave up on each other or their love and the amount of sacrifices they made to keep each other safe is unbelievable. I mean, Michael faked his own freakin’ death, assumed the identity of a terrorist, cut himself off from everyone he loved for 7 years and went from prison to prison, ending up in an awful prison in a war torn country. Just the circumstances of their relationship, what they sacrificed for each other and the fact that they overcame it all is amazing and that alone makes them OTP worthy in my books. 

Dexter/DebraThese two are probably amongst the most unpopular or unknown of my OTP’s, but people don’t know what they’re missing out on with these two. Generally most of my OTP’s are what constitute as “healthy” or “good” relationships, but Dexter and Debra are anything but. I’d say they’re probably one of my darkest OTP’s (along with Cook and Effy), but that’s what I love about them. Just like Eleven and Amy, Dexter and Debra are so damn complicated, but that’s what makes them so fascinating to me. Dexter is introduced from the off as a psychopath that is incapable of human emotions including love, yet it’s established within the first few opening lines of the show that if he could have feelings for anyone he would have them for Deb. From the pilot and that line, Dexter’s feelings for Deb developed so much and we saw that Deb really was the one person he was capable of developing feelings for. At the end of season 1 when Dexter discovered that Rudy/Brian was his brother it seemed so obvious that Dexter would choose his brother, his own flesh and blood, someone that was just like him, over his foster sister. But he didn’t. Even in season 1 when Dexter was supposed to be at his coldest, he couldn’t let Deb die and actually killed his own brother to protect her. Immediately, this is something that drew me to the Dexter and Debra ship, because the appeal of a man that is incapable of love or emotion having love for this one woman is undeniable. 

Because Dexter and Debra are foster brother and sister there is a slight element of that forbidden love and when Debra came to the realisation that she was in love with Dexter it was pretty much presented as being sick and wrong. For some reason, I never saw it that way. The fact that they were raised as brother and sister and were in each other’s lives from such a young age is part of the whole reason why Debra fell in love with him. I think in terms of both of their characters, them being in love made total sense and this is why they’re my OTP. They were both twisted and traumatised people. Deb even said it herself, “You’re a serial killer and I’m more fucked up than you are.” They were both unhealthy and bad people, so it made sense for them to develop a slightly twisted and confused relationship with each other where the boundaries of sister/brother became kinda distorted. It made sense from Deb’s POV regarding the fact that, like she explained, all of her relationships with men had been so unstable except with Dexter. And it made sense from Dexter’s POV as someone who was incapable of love but always loved Debra. They both had such traumatic and unstable lives that it was only natural they’d form a co-dependency and I think any psychologist you speak to could explain why they’d love each other from a psychological stand point, because it did make complete sense. 

Dex and Deb were also soul mates. Again, an underlying theme with most of my OTP’s but they really were. There was this whole idea tied to them that one couldn’t exist without the other and that they were the other half of each other. And I think that was just proven by the finale when Deb died and Dexter basically became a recluse and ceased to exist by all accounts. They even admitted themselves that they were the one constant in each other’s lives and without that constant Dexter couldn’t go on. 

I think the overall reason Dexter and Deb are my OTP is not only because the messiness of them is interesting to me, but because despite that messiness they were just two people that at their core loved each other deeply and couldn’t live without each other. 

Also, if you’ve watched Dexter or plan to in the future and ship Dexter and Debra, please check out this fanfiction. It’s honestly the best story I’ve ever read and perfectly captures the complexity of their relationship and why I love them so much. 

Emma/Regina

With Emma and Regina I’ve already explained in-depth why I love them in previous asks, which you can read it here and here. 

Cook/Effy

I love Cook and Effy and think they’re so underrated as a couple (though admittedly the Skins fandom has gone quiet over the last couple of years). Like Dexter and Debra, the appeal with Cook and Effy is rooted a lot in the messiness of them. I like that they’re not a traditional or simple relationship like Monica and Chandler. I like that they’re different and unique. 

With Cook and Effy, I think there’s an association there I just can’t break. “We are Cook and Effy. The fucking world knows us.” I mean, that quote from Cook really sums it up doesn’t it? There’s just something about the two of them that makes them connected forever in my mind. I think that a lot of it is to do with the fact that they’re just so damn similar as characters. They were both reckless, passionate, crazy people that thrived on living each day and doing whatever the fuck they wanted. Deep down their reasoning for doing that was the same - because they were unhappy and lonely and trying to bury it with shallow pursuits of “fun”. A lot of their actions are directly the same and there are so many parallels to their similarities. It’s like they were such intensely emotional and sensitive people that the only way they knew how to handle that was to ignore it and pretend not to care about anything. It’s strange because the writers always seemed to portray it as being that Effy loved Freddie more than Cook because Freddie was different from her, more “good” and she needed someone like that to balance out the “bad” in her. I do understand the concept, but how boring is that? Her and Cook was such a more interesting dynamic and I really think that if they’d been written properly they could’ve had an amazing love story whereby they actually helped to heal each other and that as they grew and matured they could’ve been really happy together. I think that Effy was able to reach Cook in a profound way that no one else could and she could’ve helped reign him in and I think that Cook’s more care-free and fun attitude would’ve helped Effy’s depression to some extent (unlike Freddie who actually exacerbated it, even though he did try his best to help). 

I just think for all their flaws and the messed up elements of their relationship, they were a true powerhouse of a couple that had so much potential, were so great to watch on-screen and I just connected with them when I was a young teenager, which is a connection that doesn’t seem to be able to be broken. (x)

Bonnie/Damon

Bonnie and Damon are the third ship on this list that I consider being a dark ship that I’m drawn to. But I’ve already spoke in-depth about my love for Bonnie and Damon in the past which you can read in the following posts, (x) (x) (x) (x)

Francis/Mary

It honestly still surprises me that one of my OTP’s is from a show as terrible as Reign. In my opinion, Francis and Mary’s relationship was the only good thing about the show and seeing their endgame is the only reason I watched the finale after not watching it for over a season. 

What I love about Francis and Mary is that they’re a couple that were politically “set up” but they actually genuinely fell in love and built a happy relationship. Putting the whole drama with Conde aside (which was honestly just a gross and pointless plot device that I will never forgive the writers for), their relationship was loving, supportive and encouraging. Francis respected and admired Mary as a woman and a queen. He didn’t try to assert dominance or power over her as the man (something which would’ve been considered the norm in that time period) and he supported all of her political efforts and endeavors. 

There’s also a huge association with light with Francis and Mary. Yet another theme I seem to be drawn to (although I didn’t realise it until now haha). There are numerous times where they refer to each other as being their light and much like Jon and Ygritte, it’s this sense of the world they lived in was harsh and tough but in finding love with each other there was a beam of light that shone in their lives. Which I think is a very beautiful thing. 

Francis and Mary are also simply the love of each other’s lives. From the beginning there’s an inevitability of them. You know they’re the one for each other, you can just see it. It’s why even when they broke up and Mary “fell in love with” Conde, I had no doubts that she’d find her way back to Francis. It’s also why even decades after his death and having been in other relationships, Mary’s ultimate happiness and heaven was with Francis. He was the love of her life, her light and the finale really just solidified that fact. 

Jon/Sansa

This is the first time I think I’ve ever got the chance to talk about Jon and Sansa and explicitly admit that I ship them. It’s not a ship that came to me immediately and I think I’m gonna find it hard to explain why I ship them, but I’ll try my best. 

Putting aside the obvious reason of Kit and Sophie’s amazing chemistry, I think Jon and Sansa have come to be one of my favourite ships because they kind of incorporate elements of some of my other OTP’s. 

There are similarities to Debra and Dexter regarding the brother/sister relationship that isn’t technically/biologically a brother/sister relationship and how I feel the romantic feelings both couples feel for each other actually kinda stems from their relationships as children when they were brother and sister. Just like with Debra and Dexter, Jon and Sansa being in love makes total sense from a physiological perspective. Allow me to explain. Because Jon and Sansa were so different as children they grew up estranged and didn’t develop a “normal” sibling relationship, then they separated and both went through so much trauma and thought their entire family was dead so when they finally reunited they formed this entirely new bond. It was instantly an intense bond because they were so elated that they’d found a family member when they thought it an impossibility but also because they were a connection/reminder of their other family members. But because they didn’t have an established platonic/sibling relationship as children they were kinda creating an entirely new relationship that hadn’t really existed. And because they’re both older now, have gone through changes from children to adults, their bodies/appearances have changed so they’re more attractive and they both have sexual attractions/feelings. Add on top of this that Sansa has had extremely unhealthy and abusive relationships with most of the men in her life and Jon is the only man she has been able to truly trust and that they both had literally just been through the most horrific traumas before reuniting (Sansa was being abused/raped by Ramsay and Jon was murdered) and you’ve got this incredibly complex, confused but interesting relationship. And I’m kind of a sucker for those kind of complicated relationships that aren’t black and white. 

A big part of what also kinda made Jon and Sansa my OTP is the fandom. A lot like the Swan Queen fandom, the Jonsa fandom is just so active and creative and wonderful. I’ve never enjoyed reading any fanfiction as much as I enjoy reading Jonsa fanfiction. There’s also so many fantastic metas that really spoke to me and made me realise how much sense Jon and Sansa make as a couple.

There are just so many Jon and Sansa tropes/headcanons that I love. That they’re Ned and Catelyn 2.0 who marry for political reasons but actually build an incredibly healthy relationship with mutual love, that they’re two broken people that started to heal each other, that they share beds to keep their night terrors at bay, that Jon is the first man to actually treat Sansa with respect, that he’s the first one to make love to her and actually show her that sex is supposed to be gentle, kind and loving, that what starts out as a political marriage is actually mutual love that they’re both too afraid to admit, that they rule Winterfell and have little Starks named after Robb and/or Ned. Obviously, it’s an idealistic view on the relationship that’s mostly reserved for fanfiction, but I love it and thanks to Swan Queen, I discovered that shipping non-canon ships can actually be more fun a lot of the time. 

Jon and Sansa becoming my OTP is also because of my love for them as characters and the Starks overall. I can’t see Sansa ever getting a happy ending unless she marries Jon, because as a woman (and a Stark woman especially), she will just be expected to marry someone else for a political alliance and after everything she’s been through I just don’t want that for her (particuarly since there’s no one she’s even close to developing a genuine emotional or romantic connection with). Even if her and Jon married but it never developed into anything romantic, at least she’d be safe and cared for by someone that genuinely loved her and had her best interests at heart. As for Jon, I adore Jon with every ounce of my being and I think he deserves better than D and that she can’t give him what he wants. Jon has always craved to be a true Stark, he’s a northerner to his core and I think his heart belongs in Winterfell with his family and that includes Sansa. I know there’s complications with him being a Targeryen and the Iron Throne and all that jazz, but  when I simplify it in my mind, I want a happy ending for the Starks and Jon and Sansa being together (romantic or not) seems like the best way for that to happen. 

So that’s it!  In a very brief and summarised format (trust me this is short in comparison to what it could be haha) there’s why my OTP’s are my OTP’s. I hope I didn’t bore you too much haha and thanks for asking! :)

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

She’s Got A Boyfriend Anyway. (Ray Toro x Reader)

Note: This was requested by @chloethebinch - I hope you like it, my love.

PS. I haven't forgotten about all of the other requests; they’ll be here soon, i promise. x

Gerard, Mikey and Ray were sitting in the Ways’ basement, surrounded by various instruments and strewn pieces of crumbled up paper, chattering amongst themselves. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; the basement had become somewhat of an oasis for them. A place to go whenever they felt particularly inspired; if they needed to discuss something regarding My Chemical Romance; or even just to use as a haven. Point is, more often than not, the band members could be found there.

The sound of the basement door barging open and Frank’s running down the stairs startled the guys and snapped them out of their engrossment with either their instrument or their writing.

“Guys, I found us a drummer!” Frank beamed excitedly.

“Yeah?” Mikey asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a new band member, “Who is he?”

“She.”

“What?”

“Who is she,” Frank correct, yet Mikey still stared confusedly at him, “You asked ‘who is h’- oh, nevermind,” Frank clicked his tongue and turned to face the door, “(Y/N), you can come in!”

The moment you walked through the door, Ray, Mikey and Gerard instantly perked up and noticeably straightened their posture. As you made your way down the stairs, each of their gazes were transfixed on you, which, admittedly, made you slightly uncomfortable, but you trusted Frank and he assured you that even though they were a bit weird, they were totally harmless.

“Dibs,” Ray whispered to the brothers, who in turn both shot daggers at him. “What? It’s only fair. You guys always get the girls…”

“She’s so hot,” Mikey remarked under his breath, as you made your way closer.

“So hot,” Gerard mumbled.

Frank sniggered at his bandmates’ clear infatuation with you as he placed an arm around your shoulders.

“Guys, (Y/N). (Y/N), these are the losers I told you about. That’s Mikey and Gerard - they’re brothers – and that’s Ray,” Frank introduced, pointing at each of the guys in turn.

“Hi,” you waved, “It’s lovely to meet you all.” You smiled at Ray, making his heart flutter.

“Believe me, the pleasure is ours,” Gerard spoke up, “But, uh, if you wanna be our drummer, we’re gonna have to ask you a couple of questions first. That okay?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah, that's fine,” you responding, moving to sit down on the two-seater as the rest of the guys piled onto the three-seater, Frank ending up sitting on both the brother’s lap due to the lack of space.

For a moment, they all just stared at you without saying a word and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“So… are you guys gonna ask me anything or…?”

“OH! Yeah, yeah,” the guys reached for random pieces of paper and pen, not really intending to write anything down. They didn't even truly have any set interview questions; they just wanted an excuse to stare at you.

“Forgive them,” Frank rolled his eyes, “They haven’t gotten laid in like, a century, so being so close to a beautiful female is kinda, excuse the pun, hard for them.”

You tried your hardest to supress your laughter as his comment gained a chorus of ‘hey’s’ and curse words from the guys. Mikey and Gerard even shoved Frank off of their lap and onto the floor, where he now stayed.

“Okay, so, (Y/N), how long have you been playing for?” Gerard asked, cheeks still pink from Frank’s remark.

“For as long as I can remember. My family is very musically inclined, so my parents started my siblings and I off very young. They say that I was playing drums before I could walk,” you chuckled, which made the guys smile.

“And, uh, why do you wanna be a part of our band?” Mikey questioned.

“I’m a huge fan. Have been ever since Frank invited me to one of your shows a few months ago. I think you guys are phenomenal.”

The guys looked taken aback as well as flattered by your comment. Well, except for Frank. He just smiled and winked at you, and you smiled back, prompting the other three to glare at him. Partly out of jealously, and partly out of anger that he hadn't mentioned you sooner. Or introduced you to them at the show you went to.

“Why don’t you show them what you can do,” Frank cocked his head at the drum kit in the corner of the room, ignoring his friends’ dirty looks.

And that’s exactly what you did. Twenty years of playing drums, and it was almost second nature to you. You manoeuvred excellently, hitting the drums with a precision and passion that left the guys speechless, as Frank just smiled smugly.

When you finished, you beamed widely at the four of them who were still speechless. As soon as you stood up, though, you were met with raucous applause, making you giggle as you took a bow.

“So, I think it’s safe to say that you’re now a member of My Chemical Romance, right guys?” Frank spoke and the others added their agreements.

“Thank you guys,” you gushed.

“I have a question,” Ray chimed as he looked at you, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Uh, actually, yeah, I do.”

~

The next few months were quite easily the best months of your life. After all the bullshit you’d been through, you finally felt like you found a place where you belonged.

And that place was in My Chemical Romance.

From word go, the guys had taken you under their wing and treated you like nothing short of a queen.

You’d always had a pretty good relationship with Frank, but being in a band with him strengthened that beyond belief, and now, he was like a big brother to you; always looking out for you, saving you from interviewers’ prying questions and just making sure you were always doing fine.

Mikey and Gerard reminded you a lot of your younger twin brothers. Not just because they themselves were siblings, but also because they would constantly want to spend time with you, talking about comics, music and asking for help with girl troubles.

All in all, it was quite accurate to say that the boys were literally like family.

And then there was Ray.

Right from the start, Ray made no effort to hide his ever-growing crush on you, and he didn't seem to care whether you, or any else, knew about it. He wasn’t so bad that it made you feel uncomfortable or violated in any way, of course; he’d usually just pass cute comments your way or tell you how beautiful you looked that day. And although you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, you slowly started falling for him, too.

Your relationship with your boyfriend was never a strong one to begin with – the two of you were set up by mutual friends, and decided to give it a go for their sake; clearly, that idea was doomed from the start – but lately, you seemed to be drifting apart far more rapidly than usual. You’d try to pretend nothing was wrong; you’d go to his baseball matches and he’d come to your shows, but your relationship was honestly a lost cause.

“You were sick tonight, (Y/N/N)!” Frank complimented, high-fiving you.

“Not as good as you, but thanks,” you smiled, “Hey, have you seen Dean? He’s usually waiting backstage for me.”

“Yeah, I think I saw him going into the bathroom over there,” Frank pointed in the direction he’d last seen your boyfriend walking in.

You said a quick thanks and started towards the bathroom to wait for Dean. When you approached the door, you heard the distinct sound of a woman giggling and you immediately knew what was going to happen next: You’d open the door, see Dean and some random skank making out – or, if you’re really lucky, fucking, - , and then he’d half-heartedly try to explain himself.

But you opened the door, nonetheless, because you were way past caring about this relationship.

You sighed deeply, pushed the door open and your suspicions were confirmed.

“Nice one.”

 ~

 When you walked into the tour bus a few days later, the guys went completely silent, not knowing whether to act normal, like you hadn’t just broke up with your boyfriend or to shower you with condolences because you had just broke up with your boyfriend.

Mikey decided to go with a, “You look great!” which resulted in the other three mumbling in approval.

“Thanks! It’s amazing what getting rid of a cheating jerk can do to your complexion!”

Frank found that absolutely hilarious, and burst out laughing before muttering a ‘sorry’ when the other three shot him stern looks.

“It’s okay,” you assured, “Never loved him anyways.”

You made your way to the fridge to grab a soda, and Ray followed.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hi,” you smiled back.

“Listen, I know you said that you’re fine and that you don't care or whatever but… just know that I really, really care about you and if there’s anything you need, I’m here.”

“Actually, there is something.”

“What is it?”

“Kiss me.”

So he did.

And you’d never felt so complete.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[rorykillmore]

hmmm brambleclaw, jitterpaw, sara?

brambleclaw

apart from squirrelflight, he still considers stormfur and crowfeather his closest friends. he did not grow up with the experience a lot of the generations before him did -- having a tightly knit group of close friends in thunderclan. his and tawnypelt’s apprenticeship was of course overshadowed by the threat of tigerstar at the time, and there weren’t many other young cats in his age range to begin with.

he does, however, really like and admire dustpelt, who in many ways had to fight for the clan’s trust because of his relationship with tigerstar just as brambleclaw did. i think on denny he and leopardpool could eventually become really good friends but then i’m a sucker for leader/medicine cat relationships.

on denny, the cats who are gonna give him his nine lives will be:  bluestar (stepping in as former clan leader in place of firestar, who isn’t dead yet in brambleclaw’s timeline), redtail (tigerstar’s first murder, who would give him a life related to being able to move on from that legacy), yellowfang (who brambleclaw hardly knew but... i like the significance of it, since firestar always blamed himself for her death because he was rescuing bramblekit),  cinderpelt, frostfur, speckletail, swiftpaw (who was not only his denmate at one point but also his half-brother through goldenflower, the more you know), goldenflower herself, and feathertail.

he still grieves and misses hawkfrost sometimes, but generally feels too ashamed to talk about it.

if he’s stressed or uneasy, he sleeps curled up in a tight ball -- but otherwise his sleeping habits are kind of hilariously kitten-ish. he likes to sprawl out, and often does that Cat Thing where they roll over onto their backs and have their head at some absurd angle. poor squirrelflight tbh

speaking of, he’s not currently... quite as outraged at her as he was in canon because the context of him finding out about power of three stuff was so different: it wasn’t after years of thinking the kits he’d raised were related to him by blood, it was just kind of. all thrown at him at once. plus this version of squirrelflight didn’t even do anything yet, and with their kits on the way, it’s a lot easier to direct his anger at crowfeather and leafpool -- though there might... still be some lingering tension between them.

he actually does quite like mothwing, and wishes he had the chance to get to know her better -- she’s still his half-sister, and he sometimes wonders whether she’d be the one cat who could understand how he felt about hawkfrost.

he feels it’s a silly, pointless thing to hope for, but he wishes that tigerstar would express some regret for how his actions affected his kids, even once.

he loves snow. doesn’t like leafbare very much otherwise, but the first snowfall of the year is his favorite thing and he always lowkey desperately tries not to miss it while trying to seem like he’s not too invested.

he fears/dislikes human kids because they tend to be rough and kind of disrespectful of animal boundaries, but he would also never bite or scratch one. i hope kid!michael myers never picks him up,

jitterpaw

is basically her sister’s shadow in the figurative and aesthetic sense -- honeypaw has light, golden colored fur, jitterpaw has very dark ginger fur.

she was actually conceived to be just kind of a... side character in a plot dawnie and i had waaaay back in the day. the plot originally centered around a love/hate relationship between honeypaw and my character smokepaw, but then i also made jitterpaw to be honeypaw’s support system and kinda fell in love with her.

she would actually recognize badgerstripe, though badgerstripe wouldn’t know her. jitterpaw is from further along in badgerstripe’s era and would know her as badgerstar.

has now sworn off rabbit altogether and doesn’t care what anyone thinks; she loves fiver too much, you guys.

her primary fear is probably... getting sick, due to the way her mother died. she doesn’t take very well to even catching mild illnesses; they really stress her out.

back in the day i literally almost made her warrior name jitterbug (however i did not in fact rp her long enough to actually give her a warrior name, so, she was spared,)

once had a friend from thunderclan named rabbitpaw -- he was easygoing and goodnatured and they bantered a lot, but were mainly united in their bafflement over a pretty intense rivalry between honeypaw (jitterpaw’s sister) and smokepaw (rabbitpaw’s best friend).

her favorite sound in the world is her sister’s laugh. she missed it long before they were separated.

loves swimming but, ironically enough, hates rain. she’s just particularly sensitive to the sensation of it pouring down on her -- and also the sound of thunder really unsettles her. 

otterfrost intimidates her, but jitterpaw also looks up to her and really, really wants her approval. it’s turning her into a little bit of an overachiever tbh. 

sara

her birthday is on christmas, like, canonically. as a kid she used to hate having to share it with such a major holiday; it always felt really overshadowed. now she doesn’t... particularly care because needless to say, she’s not big into celebrating herself.

the one accessory she wears almost constantly is the necklace laurel gave her. no surprises there.

as the entire world knows, she’s bi. she has leaned into preferring women as she’s gotten older for a variety of reasons: natural preference and a growing confidence in and acceptance of that as she’s aged, but it’s also i think influenced by stuff like the fact that she’s a sexual abuse survivor and that’s something that directly influenced her involvement in the league of assassins/later her vigilantism. 

has some background in biology, genetics, and physics, but it almost never comes to light given that her more... brutal and hands-on skills are usually called for.

her ride of choice (apart from the waverider) is a motorcycle. she actually even has a license! and can kind of be a dork about showing it off to pretty girls and giving them lifts.

still sort of considers oliver her best friend - they’ll always have a special and turbulent connection - though during their time on the waverider together, kendra kind of became something like that too.

her favorite song is “love will keep us together” by captain and tennille. she once playfully, drunkenly serenaded nyssa with it. it also became something of a meme between her and snart (it was the first song they ever got into a barfight together to, after all,)

her favorite time periods to visit are probably the 1970′s and the old west, aka the ones respectively infamous for getting high and shooting people, of course.

most peg her for a super casual drinker and barhopper, but the truth is that if she drinks casually at all, it’s because she’s confident that she can hold her liquor. she almost never gets even tipsy, and actually takes issues with alcohol... pretty seriously and respectfully, due to laurel’s history with it.

on denny she’s started messing with reimagining her old sonic weapons of choice -- yep, the ones black canary is famous for. they pack quite a punch and she’s lowkey kind of itching to use them on someone.