#placation to state over and over again how much i am not ever trying to peddle my opinions as facts or as moral truths like. hopefully

[steelycunt]

okay so i don’t mind reg bc w/e this is fandom innit ppl can do what they want, but i think you’re so right that remus and lyall are fundamentally much more interesting characters and so is their relationship. reg by himself is somewhat compelling but no one in the fandom seems to care abt what makes him compelling i.e. stuff that actually happened in canon not just fanfictions that he’s been featured in. for instance, i see it being stated as though it’s fact that his parents abused him which we don’t know iirc? we know that sirius was mistreated and i do think being raised by political radicals would likely cause a turbulent home life, so i doubt regulus came out of his childhood unscathed, but we have no actual proof he was treated similarly to sirius at all. he was still a supremacist, just not to the extent that his parents were. as far as i’m concerned he died a fascist, but he had a “for thee but not for me” tory level attitude about certain things.

oh absolutely! with regards to my position on regulus, im in no way trying to say that people can’t/shouldn’t like him—as you say, people can do as they like, but im just personally not at all interested in him or with what general fandom consensus has chosen to do with him. the things that would make regulus compelling in canon do not necessarily compel me anyway, but more than that i agree that a lot of people have chosen to virtually wipe those things out out in favour of creating a morally pure conceptualisation of him that they don’t feel the need to defend (not that i think anyone should have to defend having an interest in regulus anyway).

i suppose i am just not personally predisposed to having an interest in canon regulus, so his popularity is not something i fully understand, but particularly the version of him that has been created by fanon...honestly i find him irritating, and generally i find even less to be interested in in a conceptualization of regulus that strips him of agency, flaws and responsibility. i said in that other post that i dont think regulus is as complex as he's given credit for (which applies even more once fanon is through with him), and i honestly stand by it--i reckon he was fully willing, albeit having been influenced by his upbringing, to become a death eater, and i don't buy the narrative that he had no choice and was forced into it and had no personal sympathy with the politics of it all. i find it ridiculously convenient. and then, i think he started having doubts when the impact of all it all became a little too close for comfort (for thee but not for me is quite a perfect summary lol), and he turned traitor. that is really all there is to it for me. i do not think that he would have rejected his parents' ideology if given the chance, the way sirius did. but i recognise really, since i don't think a character's morality or lack thereof should dictate whether you're allowed to enjoy them, the discussion of regulus' morality is sort of besides the point lol, other than the fact that i find his complete and unrealistic redemption via fanon rather boring and admittedly a little lazy.

my comparison between his relationship with sirius and lyalls relationship with remus in the earlier post was mainly just me. making a joke of sorts and being a little unserious, but i do genuinely think lyall and remus are a lot more interesting and complex--though i 100% recognize that this is largely personal preference and im not trying to dress my opinion as an objective fact. mainly, i guess where i am with it all is that i already dont really have an interest in regulus from canon, and despite his huge surge in popularity i have never seen anything in fanon that really changes my mind about that (apart from. maybe one fic). which is fine! nobody is obligated to sit here and try and tailor their own takes on, or fondness for, this guy to attract my interest, or win me over. that is not their job. my opinion holds no more weight than the next guy's, and my lack of interest in regulus is not anyone else's problem, just like i am not ever going to exert energy trying to win someone over to liking remus or liking r/s. i am never going to go to someone's blog or fic and have a go at them for liking regulus/demand they justify themselves. BUT, in the safety of my own blog, i figure im safe to say these things xx and as far as im concerned, my favourite thing regulus ever did was piss off and die xx

[soundcrusher]

Me: *reads somewhere that Sephiroth's 30* Me: "Heh... funny." My Brain: "Reeve's 35 years old." Me: "... You know what would be funny?"

Either way, that's how this little drabble came to be.

Short Summary: What if Sephiroth and Reeve met when they were both young and working at Shinra?

Animals are kind creatures, if you treat them with respect and a careful hand. Something Sephiroth learned during his time in Rhadore when meeting Rosen’s dog for the first time. 

He was never judged by the dog, nor did it ever force him to be something he didn’t not feel like. Instead, it accepted him as just another kid, and even when Rhadore was destroyed alongside its people, the dog still was kind to him. Even as Hojo made him kill it, after keeping it a secret from him for a few days. 

The dog even looked at him, as if it knew that its death wasn’t fully his fault. That this was the only way, and it was okay. It was okay for Sephiroth to kill it, but still. The death was still on his hands, and so, the young soldier refused to interact with animals again. Mostly because he didn’t want to be responsible for another animal's death, nor did he want Hojo to get any ideas about including innocent creatures in his experiments. After all, monsters were one thing, dogs, cats, and other pets were another. 

So, it came as quite a surprise when Sephiroth entered an empty office and found a small, black and white cat stacking chairs to try and attempt to climb back into the vent it obviously fell out. 

And when the stack fell and the cat subsequently with it, Sephiroth quickly rushed over to help it up. Picking up the small thing and getting quite surprised by the cartoonish proportions, together with the cruelty made cape, gloves, and crown. 

The cat, perhaps a toy, looked like the creation of a child itself. Or, at least its clothes looked like it. Its body, face, and fur looked well crafted. Perhaps it was a prototype of something that hasn’t come out yet? Then again, why would a prototype run around freely? Or, maybe, the cat was one of Hojo’s newest creations, sent to on an errant no-one knew about, and it fell out of the vent while trying to return to the science floor. Then again, this office wasn’t anywhere near close to the science floor. In fact, they were closer to the Urban Development floor, than anywhere near Hojo’s domain. 

“Aye, laddy, if it’s no’ too much tae ask. Wuid ye let me go?”

The cat spoke, and it left Sephiroth look as bewildered as he felt, because, why would a cat that’s clearly not a cat, be able to speak? And in such a funny way too? It didn’t make any sense, and at the same time ruled Hojo’s involvement completely out. 

“Laddy?” Asked the cat, as it tilted its head to the side. Somehow managing to look concerned for him, despite its tightly shut eyes and lack of any human facial structures. Then again, the ears and mouth of the cat were quite expressive. 

“I… am sorry.” Was the first thing that came to the young soldier's mind, before carefully sitting the cat down on the table. “I didn’t expect you to speak.”

“Ye’re no’ tae first.” Chirped the cat happily, while raising its big gloved hands up slightly and shaking its head. “Then again, no’ many see me. So, ye’re the first tae meet me, laddy.” The cat quickly jumped up. Which caused Sephiroth to reach for the sword that should have been on his back, if it wasn’t for the fact that Shinra forbid him from being armed inside their building. A rule the teenager didn’t understand, considering a state of emergency could always happen. Then again, the cat didn’t look like a threat. Not with how it raised its paws, maybe hands, in a placating gesture. Quickly shaking its head and telling Sephiroth that it didn’t mean to startle him. It just wanted to get going, because it didn’t want to get caught. 

A sentiment Sephiroth understood all too well. 

But this was Shinra, and no matter what, someone will find out about where you went or what you’ve done. And in a pout of childish rebellion, as Hojo would call it, Sephiroth let the cat go. He even helped it back up into the vent, before cleaning up the office and leaving for his next assignment. Expecting to never see the cat again, or, at the very least, hear that it was caught and destroyed to ensure no-one would ever find out that the building was infiltrated by a toy. 

So, Sephiroth was very surprised when he saw the cat again. Sitting in the corner of the elevator he was supposed to use to get to the lower floors, as if no-one would suspect a thing. It was strange, to say the least. Especially with how unresponsive the cat was. Slumped over, as if all energy has left it. 

 It was concerning, but at the same time, Sephiroth tried no to think about it that much as he selected the correct floor. Eyes ever so often darting over to the small thing, until it decided to finally move again. But it never did. The cat that, so far, has been the only nice thing in this place, wasn’t responding when he softly poked its pink nose, nor when he carefully played with its paws. It didn’t even flinch, when he re-tied its scarf. No, but it did start when Sephiroth accidentally pulled on its ear. 

And so, the teenager did it again. Moving quickly backwards, as the cat jumped up. Claws extending out of the soft gloves, before quickly retracting at the sight of the frightened youth. Not that Sephiroth would ever admit to being frightened by a small toy. 

“Ay, laddy! Why wuid ye do ‘at?!” Shouted the cat angrily, while stomping one of its feets in frustration, perhaps? Or, maybe, the cat was disgruntled from being woken up from its nap?

“I am… sorry mister cat… I just… I was worried.” Hojo would have admonished him for even thinking about feeling worried for a simple, insignificant, toy. But Hojo wasn’t here right now. The cat was. And the cat seemed to calm down at the sight of the silver haired boy’s open expression. 

“Ye’re just like… Well! Ye dae look like a lot’s on yer mind. Wanna talk about it?”

It was a kind offer, all things considered, but then again, Sephiroth didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, he wanted to talk about somethings, especially Rhadore, but then again, how would the cat react to him spilling some truths? Maybe it was all a test and it would report back to Hojo, or, it wasn’t. 

But what was worse? The cat being a spy for his ‘father’, or it deciding to leave him, the second it knew just what kind of monster he was?

However, before Sephiroth could give his answer, the door to the elevator opened, and a boy older than him stepped in. Dark brown hair that was previously slicked back, but now disheveled, falling into tired brown eyes, while he clutched a document folder to his chest. Mumbling something about a missing cat, before looking over at where Sephiroth was kneeling down to better talk to the cat. 

At first, the older boy’s expression didn’t change much. His eyes looked just as tired as they did before, but the second they landed on the cat, the boy’s face lit up brighter than Midgar’s neon lights. And with a happy shout of “Cait!”, the boy dropped his folder in favor of scooping up the toy cat. Squeezing it tightly to his chest, as if he was scared it would disappear again. 

“Where were ye?! I was so worried!” Sobbed the boy, and Sephiroth found himself in an awkward position. How was he supposed to react, when the cat he thought didn’t belong to anyone, belonged to another boy? It was obviously his toy, from the way the brunette clung to it like a lifeline, and from how the cat patted the boy’s back. 

“I was jus’ looking around. An’ found a friend.”

The boy looked over at that. And all he found was the wide eyes of Sephiroth staring into his own bright ones. Never once had someone called him a friend, and even if they did, they soon enough left him. It was something that would surely happen this time around too. The boy would take Cait. He would take him, and never let them see each other again. 

He would lose a friend, without even getting the chance of becoming friends in the first place. It's unfair, but Sephiroth shouldn’t have expected anything else. And yet, he really wanted this time to be different. He wanted to make a friend, and be allowed to keep them. Even if they were nothing more than a robot cat toy. 

“Thank ye fo’ finding Cait.” 

“What?”

“A-ah… I said… Thank you for finding Cait…” 

Did Sephiroth say something wrong? Why was the boy looking so lost all of a sudden? Was it because he asked ‘What’? Should he have said something different? He should have said something different, he knew it, but at the time, Sephiroth was just too surprised at being thanked that he couldn’t think of something else to say. People don’t usually thank him, especially for things that are as mundane as finding a lost toy. Even if said toy was clearly more advanced than most. 

No, most would be condescending at most, but the other boy didn’t look like that at all. On the contrary, he cried when finding Cait, looked over at Sephiroth, as if he had never seen a fellow child, and then proceeded to thank him for doing the bare minimum. 

This boy didn’t act like any of the adults, and Sephiroth found himself liking his new acquaintance for that. 

But instead of telling the boy that, Sephiroth asked the boy why he repeated his thanks, to which the boy let out one long sigh, before telling him how people think less of him for using his accent. “I’ve been training to speak like everyone else, instead of how my parents and Cait do. It’s… been hard, but! People started to treat me nicer! So, it’s a win!”

The boy sounded so hopeful, and Sephiroth couldn’t help to wonder how unfair it was for the boy to not be allowed to speak in his natural accent. It sounded nice, even if it was a little strange. And he told him so, which caused the boy to blush and hide his face behind Cait’s body. 

“Ye’re jus’... just… You’re just saying that to be nice!” Muttered the boy. 

“I’m not.” Responded Sephiroth, before looking over at the floor display. He’ll have to get off soon. Or, perhaps, he could stay longer on the elevator with the boy and Cait? There was nowhere he had to be, and Hojo’s tests weren’t starting anytime soon. Sephiroth could stay with the boy for a little while longer, and so, he did. 

They moved past his stop and left the elevator at the older boy’s stop. And with nothing better to do, Sephiroth followed him all the way to the office of the Director of Urban Development -Reeve Tuesti, if he wasn’t mistaken-, and watched his new friend drop off the folder, before showing him around the floor. 

It was nice to just listen to the boy ramble about the things his co-workers did, and how their office was often full of chatter and the occasional drama, when someone misplaced a pen, or when someone decided to pull a prank on someone else. And when time for lunch came, the boy grabbed Sephiroth’s hand and pulled him towards the canteen. Smiling brightly, as he yet again got to show off more and more of the Shinra building. But when asked if the boy had seen every floor, he grew quiet. Muttering a few things in between the small bites he took of his sandwich, before admitting that he always tries to not go anywhere near the science floor. 

“Hojo scares me…” Admitted the boy, after finishing his orange juice. “He… I don’t want to be near him. And I don’t want him to be near Cait either…”

“Why?”

The boy was quiet for a moment. Looking at Sephiroths with uncertainty in his eyes, before scooting closer to him with his chair. Making sure that no-one was looking in their direction, or paying attention to them. “I can bring things to life.” Whispered the boy quietly. Eyes focused on Sephiroth, as he tried to decipher the confused look on the silver haired boy’s face. “I… don’t know how. But I can make toys move and act on their own…” He continued, but stopped when Sephiroth failed to give an answer, or say something in response. 

And how could he? Bringing things to life sounded like something straight out of a fairytale, and yet, the boy didn’t look like someone who would, or could, lie. So, Sephiroth decided to believe him, and to not tell Hojo anything. What he doesn’t know, could never interest him after all. Also, Sephiroth didn’t want to lose a possible new friend. So, he promised the boy to keep his secret. To which the boy smiled in relief and continued to tell him about other mundane things that happened around the Shinra building. Only getting up, when someone in a suit walked over to inform his new friend that he was needed. To which the brunette let out a sigh and got up. Smiling at Sephiroth, while picking up Cait and thanking him for finding his toy. 

It wasn’t until later that the young soldier found out that his friend’s name was Reeve. 

Reeve Tuesti, Director of Urban Development, and youngest board member. 

[hot-hellboy]

Body on Fire - A Perjasico Fanfic (Part 2)

Part 1

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

    Shockingly, Percy and Jason weren't at all opposed to the idea. And if Nico was being completely sure with himself, he was convinced that Percy seemed actually a little excited. Jason was definitely happy to do it, but he seemed a little more reserved about the whole thing. Or maybe that was just Jason being Jason—he always tried to be respectful about everything, and part of that wasn't giving away what he was really thinking.

   In fact, the conversation went a little something like this:

   "Hey, Nico. Annabeth talked to us, and I wanted to let you know that I'd be more than happy to help you out. No team member left hanging, am I right?"

   Percy had said, and looking back on it, it was so like him to try and lighten the mood with a joke or a change of tone.

   "Yeah, same here."

    Jason had added. He wasn't being cold by any means, but he had seemed just a bit more cautious with how he approached the topic with Nico than Percy had been. Maybe it was because Percy had known him far longer than the other alpha had, but either way their responses had helped to ease his worry.

   That was, until, things actually started heating up.

   The three of them agreed to alternate between bunking with each other in either Percy or Jason's cabins so that Nico wouldn't ever be left unattended in case he needed anything. They also decided to make it so that they operated in taking shifts with at least one alpha being there at all times until it was time to alternate. All of these conversations were had while Nico was still in a relatively stable state of mind, before the unconsciousness of the "heat haze" had taken over.

   And when his heat did actually start, the three boys were staying in Jason's cabin, and that's when the cramps started kicking in. It was during the middle of the night when Nico had begun feeling a sharp pain in his side when he awoke from sleeping in between the two alphas on Jason's massive bed. The omega whimpered softly when the pain started becoming sharper, but luckily Percy heard him and was up in a heartbeat. Which was totally unusual for him since Percy, aside from Nico, was already a heavy sleeper, but perhaps the sound of an omega in distress was what got him moving.     Jason had woken up shortly after, and both alphas allowed Nico to scent their wrists and other places that contained scent glands, which was enough to placate him for now. Sometimes, when heats had just started, scenting was all an omega needed to calm down again before things started getting a lot more complicated later on. Scenting also helped with heat cramps since the calming effects alphas had on omegas in heat were strong enough to fix whatever pain was manifesting during the very start of their cycle. Nico ended up falling back asleep already feeling much better, although he couldn't help but blush and smile to himself when he felt Percy's arm naturally loop around his waist once he too fell asleep as well.

      The         End.

[btsqualityy]

Magnolias in Springtime

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage!AU, ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, fluff, smut, and just a smidge of angst 

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriages, brief mention of polygamy (nothing comes of it, promise lol), oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, knotting 

Author’s Note: This fic is based on a prompt from the Spring Fest “Spring Will Come Again” hosted by @bangtanarmynet​! I really hope you guys enjoy it! P.S: There will also be a part two to this fic so stayed tuned for that!

Prompt: While their parents discuss behind closed doors the terms of their arranged marriage to each other, they meet in the blooming garden to go over their own conditions.

Your pack was your entire life.

Growing up as what some of the elders in your pack referred to as the spoiled only child of the Pack Alpha and the Pack Omega, you were doted on by everyone. As a child, you marveled at the Alphas when they brought back the animals that they had haunted for the pack’s dinner and now as an adult, you were having Alphas dedicate those kills to you as a sign of intention to marriage. 

As a child, you tried to take notes on how the Betas seemed to be able to de-escalate any and all types of conflict, always seeming to have a solution that would placate everyone. Now that you were an adult, you found yourself going to those same Betas whenever you had conflicts with your parents or your best friends, because you knew that they would understand you. 

As a child, you thought that it was the coolest thing when you watched the Omegas essentially hold the pack together. They were the ones who gave birth, they were the ones who mostly took on child rearing and cooking (even though the Alphas and Betas in your pack always helped out as well), and they were always there when you happened to skin your knee as a child or just needed comfort. Once you became an adult and presented, you found yourself gravitating more towards the Omegas as you were also one now, and they took you under their wings as you learned just what it really meant to be an Omega. 

So in short, you loved your pack and you were extremely grateful for everything that they had taught you. Oddly enough, that gratefulness is exactly how you ended up in this situation. 

“We really appreciate the fact that you’re doing this for us Y/N,” your Alpha father, Byung-hoon told you as he, you, and your mother Deiji waited on the edge of the Kim Pack’s territory. 

“I told you that it’s fine Daddy,” you muttered, bouncing yourself up and down on the tips of your toes.

“Taking on this huge responsibility for our pack isn’t fine, but we’re grateful that you’re willing to do it,” Deiji said. Instead of answering her though, you decided to change the subject.

“Their territory really is beautiful,” you pointed out as you looked around, seeing multiple bushes of plum blossoms and azaleas. “At least I’ll have something pretty to look forward to once I move here.”

“That you will,” a deep voice added and when you turned around, you saw a large, muscular man walking towards you and following behind him was an almost equally tall woman who was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. 

“Ah, hello Pack Alpha Ho-jin,” your father bowed and you and your mother followed his lead, holding the bow for a few seconds before straightening up again. 

“Hello Pack Alpha Byung-hoon,” Ho-jin replied as he and the woman bowed as well. “This is my wife, Pack Omega Eun Kyung.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Eun Kyung smiled. 

“This is my wife, Pack Omega Deiji and this is our daughter, Y/N,” Byung-hoon introduced.

“Hello,” Deiji smiled.

“Hello,” you echoed, even though your smile was a bit more forced than your mother’s.

“Oh, you are absolutely gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gushed as she stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your hands. “Our son is a lucky man.”

“I’m sure that I am lucky as well, Pack Omega,” you replied.

“Please, call me Eun Kyung,” she corrected you. “I am going to be your mother-in-law soon.”

“Speaking of, where is Namjoon?” Your father wondered.

“He went off hunting with some of the other Alphas and Betas in our pack,” Ho-jin explained. “We plan on having a very big feast in order to celebrate their impending nuptials and he decided to go and try to find some extra meat.”

“Yeah, or to avoid meeting the wife that he doesn’t want,” you thought to yourself.

“He sounds like he’ll be an amazing provider and Alpha,” your mother smiled.

“Well, why don’t we all go into my office so that we can go over the terms and conditions of their marriage?” Ho-jin suggested before turning to look at you. “Y/N-ah, feel free to look around our territory and get a feel of the place. This will be your home soon, after all.”

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thank you.” After receiving a kiss on your head from your father and a pat on the hand from your mother, you watched silently as the four of them walk away together. As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a large rush of breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding. Even though you weren’t completely excited about this arrangement, your inner Omega wanted the parents of your future husband to like you and after meeting them, you were happy that you could seemingly not have that to worry about. 

Deciding to take your future father-in-law’s advice, you walked away from the front of their territory and ventured around. You were amazed at how vast their territory seemed to be in comparison to your pack’s, large buildings and houses searching as far as your eyes could see. As you walked, you took notice of what seemed to be a schoolhouse, a building that seemed to be a sort of meeting hall, and even a building that looked like a store front with mannequins in the window.

The thing that caught your attention though, was a large archway that was covered in gorgeous magnolia flowers. When you stepped over to it, you gasped at what laid behind it: A large wall full of nothing but magnolias stood a few feet beyond the arch, a small bench placed in front of it. 

“Gorgeous,” you whispered in awe as you stepped over to the wall, reaching out and gently touching the flowers. 

“Who are you?” A deep voice called out and you jumped up a little, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you turned around to find the source of the voice. Standing right underneath the archway, was a tall, tan skinned man whose presence seemed to command attention. 

“I-I’m Y/N L/N,” you replied, still feeling a little hesitant and the man’s eyes widened. 

“You’re Y/N?” He wondered and you nodded your head. “Well, you’re a lot prettier than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You questioned. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon,” he said, smiling at the soft gasp that escaped you. “Your future husband.”

“Oh,” was all you could utter in response because holy shit, your future husband was hot.

“Where are your parents?” Namjoon asked as he stepped closer to you. “I assume that you didn’t come here alone.”

“Um, they’re talking to your parents about the ‘terms and conditions’ of our marriage,” you told him and he scoffed out a laugh.

“Of course they are,” he chuckled as he took a seat on the small bench. “Well, I think that while they’re doing that, you and I should probably go over our own terms and conditions.”

“Our own?” You echoed as you sat down on the bench as well.

“Seeing as though we’re both fundamentally being forced into this, I figure that there’s things that you don’t want and that you do want,” he said. 

“That’s..true, I guess,” you nodded. “You go first.”

“Well, seeing as though you weren’t raised in this pack, I’d like for you to learn the ways of the pack and just be a proper wife,” he began.

“I’ve been learning about your pack since the discussions of a possible arrangement started,” you told him. “I have to wonder though, what exactly is your definition of a ‘proper’ wife.”

“Basically, just keeping house, cooking and cleaning,” he elaborated. “As my father plans to step down once we’re married, I’ll be too busy running the pack.”

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I wasn’t raised to be a docile Omega and I don’t plan on becoming one once we’re married,” you huffed.

“Why not? I mean, surely you don’t expect to run the pack with me?” He laughed.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I expect,” you smiled. 

“How can you expect to lead this pack when they don’t know you?” He asked.

“Since I’m going to be here for the rest of my life, then they’ll have every opportunity to get to know me,” you shrugged. 

“We’ll talk more about that one later,” Namjoon sighed. “Anything that you wanted specifically?”

“I know that your pack is going to be providing aid to mines once we’re married and as much as I plan on being involved in this pack, I also hope that you don't expect me to never see my pack again,” you said. 

“That’s the custom when you marry into another pack though,” Namjoon pointed out. “Plus, no offense or anything, but your pack is broke in terms of both money and resources and I don’t imagine there to be much to even go back to.”

“I am my parent’s only child and my pack is very close knit so I’d love to still be able to see them and for them to come see me,” you continued. “At least three or four times a year.”

“Alright, I guess that’s reasonable,” he relented. “Especially under these circumstances.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. 

“Oh, another thing,” he said suddenly. “I know that this marriage isn’t exactly something that either of us want but you cannot have any...uh, lovers on the side.”

“I’d never do something like that,” you frowned. “But I hope you know that the same goes for you.”

“That’s fine,” Namjoon nodded. “It’s not my style anyways.”

“In addition to that, I read your pack’s history and the whole taking more than one Omega as a wife thing isn’t going to fly with me,” you stated firmly.

“It’s tradition though,” he shot back. “Every leader of this pack throughout its’ history has had more than one spouse.”

“Your father doesn’t,” you pointed out. 

“Because he didn’t want one.”

“And you do?” You demanded to know and Namjoon just chuckled.

“You really meant that whole not a docile Omega thing, huh?” He wondered and you nodded while smirking. 

“You’re going to be Pack Alpha,” you said. “You have the authority to change tradition.”

“Fine, no additional Omegas,” he agreed. “I hope that means you’re going to be willing to have lots of pups then, since that’s what the whole multiple Omegas rule was for.”

“How many?” 

“At least 5,” he replied and you just laughed.

“5 is a pretty big number coming from a man who’s not going to be pushing them out,” you giggled. “Two, at most.”

“Three?” Namjoon bargained and after thinking for a few seconds, you nodded your head. 

“Deal,” you answered. “Anything else?”

“Just one more,” he added. “No roses at our wedding.”

“What? Why?”

“They’re overrated and cliché,” he shrugged. 

“What about magnolias?” You asked. “Those are my favorites.”

“I like those,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then,” you announced. “No roses.”

“You know, this marriage thing is easier than I thought,” Namjoon said thoughtfully, making you giggle at him. “Do you have anything else you wanted to bring up?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I’m good.”

“Shake on it?” He extended his hand out to you and you let him grab onto yours, shaking each other’s hands. 

“Namjoon?” A deep voice called out and Namjoon sighed heavily. 

“That’s my dad,” Namjoon told you. “Should we head out there?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, standing up and waiting for Namjoon to do the same before the two of you walked back towards the front of their territory. As you did so, you couldn’t help but to Namjoon hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

“Ah, I see that the two of you met and are getting along!” Ho-jin announced happily.

“I’d say that we are,” Namjoon nodded as he looked down at you, and you nodded as well. 

“Well, why don’t we all move into our house?” Eun Kyung suggested. “We can have dinner and get to each other more.” After receiving nods all around, the group of you began to move towards the large cluster of houses that were a few yards away from where you were currently standing. As you let Namjoon lead you, you thought that maybe all of this actually wouldn’t be so bad. 

..........................................

A few days later, your time visiting Namjoon’s pack was winding down. After the first day, your father had happily told you that the negotiations between him and Namjoon’s father went off without a hitch and that the wedding could move forward immediately so the last few days of your visit had been spent planning your wedding.

“So maybe you and Namjoon can have your ceremony closer to the evening?” Eun Kyung suggested. “So that way we can move right into the reception afterwards.” You, her and your mom were currently in the dining room of Ho-jin and Eun Kyung’s house, going over some wedding details.

“That’s a good idea,” Deiji concurred. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Having the ceremony around 5pm sounds good.”

“Great,” Eun Kyung smiled as she wrote some things down onto the notepad that was on the table in front of her. “A later ceremony will hopefully ease some of the anxiety you’ll have that day.”

“Anxiety?” You asked.

“About your wedding night,” Eun Kyung clarified and your eyes widened. “When Ho-jin and I got married, we had our ceremony in the early afternoon and I was so nervous waiting for the reception to come because I knew what was going to happen afterwards and I had never been to bed with anyone before.”

“Oh,” you murmured. Of course, you knew that it was expected that you’d have sex with Namjoon on your wedding night and if it were up to your parents and Namjoon’s parents, get pregnant immediately but you had done your best not to actually think about it.

“Anyways, I think maybe roses for the flowers,” Deiji changed the subject and you gave her a small smile in thanks. 

“Oh, that would be gorgeous,” Eun Kyung gasped. “Namjoon’s grandmother actually has a garden full of red roses and I’m sure that she won’t mind us using some.”

“Actually, no roses,” you spoke up and both older women looked at you.

“I thought you liked roses, Y/N-ah,” Deiji said.

“I do, but Namjoon doesn’t,” you explained. “We agreed on magnolias instead.”

“You both agreed?” Deiji repeated and you nodded your head, making her smile. “That’s great.”

“You know, it’s so nice to see you actually trying to make the best of this whole thing Y/N,” Eun Kyung said. “I know it’s not ideal and you could be fighting this tooth and nail but the fact that you’re not says a lot about your character.”

“Thank you,” you smiled lightly. 

“Alright, magnolias it is,” Eun Kyung muttered as she wrote that down onto her notepad as well. Before the conversation could continue any further though, there was a sudden knock and when you looked up, you saw Namjoon standing in the door way to the dining room. 

“Hey, you all back from hunting so soon?” Eun Kyung wondered, referring to how Ho-jin, Namjoon, and Byung-hoon had decided to go off and hunt right after lunch. 

“Animals weren’t really out,” Namjoon shrugged. “Dad wanted to show Pack Alpha Byung-hoon our warehouse and I decided to come back here to spend time with Y/N.”

“With me?” You echoed in awe and Namjoon nodded.

“I wanted to show you around a little more, if you’re willing,” he offered. Before answering, you looked over at your mother who immediately waved her hands at you.

“Go, go,” she encouraged you. “We’re here for another two days so we can pick this up again later. Right, Eun Kyung?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, turning to look at Namjoon after. “Show her the river.”

“I got it Mom,” Namjoon chuckled. “Y/N?”

“Sure,” you replied before standing up, walking over to Namjoon and grabbing his outstretched hand. 

“We’ll be back by dinner,” he called out to your mothers before turning around and leading you through the living room and out of the house. 

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” you said as the two of you walked down the front steps and began to walk away from the cluster of houses. “All that wedding planning was starting to get to my head.”

“I figured, which is why I got out of there right after lunch,” Namjoon laughed. “But I also genuinely wanted to spend some time with you too. It feels like I haven’t had a moment alone with you since the first day you got here.”

“I think our families are making sure of that,” you pointed out. “I think they’re afraid that we may realize that we hate each other if they leave us alone together for too long.”

“I think that’s actually a great assumption,” he chuckled. “They don’t have to worry about that though, at least not on my end.”

“Mines either,” you murmured shyly. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, even though my mom suggested that I take you to the river, I think that there’ll be plenty of time for you to see that later,” he told you. “I actually want to show you something that I’ve been working on.”

“Cool,” you nodded as the two of you continued to walk and you noticed that he was still holding onto your hand. On their territory, there were a few different clusters of houses and Namjoon was leading you over to a different one, stopping in front of what seemed to be the largest house. 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asked and you took a second to look over the outside, liking how it was painted a light brown color, had a large porch that already had a swing attached to the ceiling of it, and a large set of stairs. 

“I think it’s beautiful,” you smiled. “You built this?”

“Yeah, for us,” he revealed and you looked over at him in shock. “What? I hope you didn’t think we’d be living with my parents once the wedding is over.”

“Namjoon, I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured in awe.

“Want to take a look inside?” Namjoon wondered, reaching down and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. You nodded your head rapidly and he chuckled before leading you up the stairs and unlocking the front door. Walking inside, you let out another soft gasp as you looked around. 

As soon as you walked into the front door, there was a little open space which could be used to place your shoes and jackets and then a staircase that led upstairs to the second level of the house. On your left hand side, there was an archway that lead into the dining room and kitchen and then on your right hand side, there was another archway that lead into the living room and another room that Namjoon said he planned on converting into a study. Once you went upstairs, you saw that there were a total of five bedrooms and the master bedroom was the largest and complete with an en suite as well. 

“I love it,” you gushed as you turned to look at Namjoon, who was leaning up against one of the walls in what would soon be your shared bedroom. 

“I thought I’d leave the decorating up to you,” he said. “That way you’ll have control over something here.”

“Good, because I already have ideas,” you grinned, deciding to throw caution to the wind and walking over to him, not waiting for him to ask what you were doing before throwing your arms around him. He hesitated for a second before hugging you back as well, and the two of you stood there for a few seconds with your arms around each other. 

“I’m happy that you like it,” he whispered and you craned your neck in order to look up at him. 

“I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Anything for my future wife,” he smiled and it was when he said that that you realized how close the two of you still were. You dropped your arms from around him and stepped back, forcing him to let go of you as well. Feeling your cheeks warm up from embarrassment, you turned your back towards him and walked over towards the window to look outside.

“You know Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Namjoon began. “Why did you agree to all of this?”

“What, marrying you?” You asked for clarification and Namjoon nodded.

“I mean, I know the basic reason why but I feel like there’s more to it than that,” he said. “A lot of packs run out of money and resources at some point but their leaders usually figure something out instead of marrying off their children in return for more resources.”

“True,” you sighed before turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Long story short, I don’t want my pack to die out just because of my father’s mismanagement. I love every member of my pack and they have all been so vital to how I grew up and how I’ve become the person that I am. If me marrying into another pack will guarantee that those people can continue to live comfortably, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s incredibly selfless,” Namjoon replied as he walked over to stand next to you. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to me, I’m just repaying the people who gave me so much.”

“That’s amazing Y/N,” he muttered. 

“What about you?” You reversed the question. “Why did you agree to this?”

“Well, my reasoning was a lot more selfish than yours,” he chuckled. “It’s always been my dream to lead the pack and when my father came to me a few months ago saying that he was getting ready to want to step down, I was super excited. However, it concerned him that I’m 26 and not mated to anyone yet so he made it a stipulation that I meet someone and get mated before he allows me to take over for him. Since I planned on getting married at some point in my life, that stipulation really didn’t matter to me so I agreed.”

“Ah, I guess that explains why you weren’t too keen on me wanting to run the pack with you,” you said.

“Kind of,” he shrugged. “Although, after hearing why you agreed to all of this, I have to admit that I’m reconsidering that.”

“Really?” You smiled hopefully. 

“Of course, you’ll still have to get to know the pack and our ways,” he pointed out. “But I don’t think it would be the worst thing to have you by my side.”

“Great!” You exclaimed happily and Namjoon couldn’t help but to laugh from how excited you clearly were. 

“Do you want to go look in the other bedrooms?” He suggested. “Maybe see what you might want to do with them?” 

“Mm, we don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm myself,” you giggled. “Why did you make so many bedrooms anyways?”

“Well, for our future children,” he confessed and you felt your cheeks immediately become hotter. 

“Oh,” you whispered. 

“Is that ok?” Namjoon wondered. “I know it might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, especially since I did it before we had our conversation about what we both wanted the other day.”

“No, no, no, it’s....it’s fine,” you shrugged. 

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked. “You haven’t been with anyone, have you?”

“Namjoon!” You shouted in surprise.

“You’re nervous,” he surmised. 

“Can you blame me?” You scoffed. “I mean, it’s already embarrassing to have basically everyone know that I’m a virgin but knowing what’s expected of us on our wedding night....it’s nerve wrecking.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N,” he shrugged. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You asked him, only to see him shake his head. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve thought about filling you with my knot since the first day that I saw you,” Namjoon confessed. “So if you let me have sex with you on our wedding night, I’d consider myself to be a very lucky man.”

“Really?” You whispered.

“Of course, but I’m not going to push you,” he told you. “If you deicide that you don’t want to, then that’s completely fine. If you do though, just know that I’ll be more willing.”

“Good to know, I guess,” you muttered, more so to yourself but Namjoon still laughed at you. 

“Cute,” he smiled widely as he reached down and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

..........................................

A month later, your wedding day had finally come. After spending a week in Namjoon’s territory, you and your parents had traveled back to your pack’s territory where you prepared for the wedding alone. The only other time that you were able to see Namjoon had been when he and his parents decided to visit your territory in order to sign the treaty that would make the connection between your two packs official. 

Fast forward to now, you were standing in the guest bedroom of Namjoon’s parents’ house, getting ready with your mom and your two best friends. 

“I really wish you would’ve let me make you a more form fitting dress Y/N-ah,” Taehyung sighed as he pullzed up the zipper on the back of your dress. Your dress was pure white, with long billowing sleeves, a scooped neckline, and a loose, long skirt with a small train. 

“You know that I hate tight clothing,” you pointed out. “This feels more like me.”

“And you look beautiful,” Jimin spoke up, taking a second to stick his tongue out at Taehyung.

“That you do,” Deiji grinned widely as she placed a crown of magnolias on top of your head. “You look like a dream.”

“Thanks Mommy,” you giggled. Just then, there was a sudden knock on the door. 

“Everyone decent in there?” Your father called out and Jimin walked over to the door and opened it up, making your father gasp when he saw you. 

“Oh Y/N-ah,” he murmured as he paced over to you, setting his hands on your cheeks. “My baby girl.”

“What do you think?” You asked him. 

“I think that Namjoon is a very lucky man to be marrying such a gorgeous woman,” Byung hoon replied, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You ready? There’s still time to back out and we can always figure something else out.”

“I’m not gonna do that Daddy,” you huffed with a smile, reaching out and taking the bouquet of magnolias that Taehyung was handing to you. “I’m gonna do this.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” your father murmured and you just leaned forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well. 

“What’s done is done,” you said. “So don’t stress about it.”

“Well, let’s go get you married,” Taehyung smiled as he reached up and pulled your veil down over your face.

“Let’s,” you whispered as you wrapped your hand around your father’s arm and let him lead you out of the bedroom. 

The ceremony was an unrushed affair once you met Namjoon underneath the little archway that had been placed near the large wall of magnolias where the two of you had first met. You found yourself not even paying much attention to what was happening during the ceremony and before you knew it, you were facing Namjoon as the preacher pronounced you man and wife.

It wasn’t the first time that you’d ever been kissed, but it still felt different all the same. Namjoon was so gentle as he reached out and grabbed the hem of your veil, lifting it up and over your head to reveal your face. He then placed his hands on your cheeks, cradling them as he leaned forward and kissed you softly. You found yourself kissing back on instinct, your hands reaching out and grabbing onto his suit jacket. 

The reception was definitely more fun than you imagined it to be. The food was amazing and so was the music, and you couldn’t help but to smile at how everyone in your new pack danced around happily as they celebrated your marriage. You found yourself having fun as well as you allowed Eun Kyung and Ho-jin to lead you around, introducing you to some members of the pack as well as spending time with your own family and friends as well.

Now that the night was over though, you were quietly walking back to your new house with Namjoon, which had been decorated to your liking. 

“Did you have fun?” Namjoon asked and you looked over at him, nodding your head.

“I did,” you smiled. “Your pack sure knows how to throw a party.”

“It’s your pack now too,” he pointed out and you hummed in reply. Once your new house came into view, Namjoon helped you walk up the front steps before pulling out his keys and unlocking the front door. 

“Wait,” he said when you moved to step into the house and before you could ask what he was doing, he leant down and picked you up bridal style.

“Namjoon!” You shrieked as he carried you into the house and you reached out to shut the front door for him. He then carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom before setting you down on the ground.

“What was that?” You giggled as you looked up at him.

“Well, I couldn’t let you be deprived of a prime wedding experience,” he shrugged, making you smile. A somewhat awkward silence then settled over the two of you then and it wasn’t until then that you felt your nerves kick in. You had been successful in not thinking much about your wedding night for the past few weeks but now that the two of you were alone, it was all that you could think about. 

“You know,” Namjoon spoke up suddenly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“Namjoon, we talked about this,” you replied.

“We did and I meant what I said then,” he said. “We don’t have to do anything just because people might expect us to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Plus, it’s kind of insulting if you only have sex with me because you’re expected to,” he joked, making you giggle.

“You have a point,” you smiled. “What if I said that I wanted to though, because I want to?”

“Do you remember what else I said to you when we had that conversation?” He wondered and you felt your cheeks warm up immensely as you recalled his words. 

“Yes.”

“What did I say baby?” 

“You said that you, uh, wanted to....uh,” you stammered and Namjoon smiled, deciding to take pity on you.

“I said that I wanted to fill you with my knot,” he finished for you. “And I still mean that.”

“You’ll be gentle?” You checked.

“Absolutely,” he stated firmly. “And I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” You knew that this was a big step, losing your virginity. However, something about Namjoon made you feel so at ease and besides, he was your husband now.

“I want to,” you announced, causing him to grin widely.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested and you nodded your head. He reached up and placed his hands on your cheeks before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. You immediately moved closer to him, placing your hands near his waist. He then took one of his hands off of your cheek and before you could ask what he was doing, he reached up and took the crown of magnolias off your head before throwing it over his shoulder.

“Someone seems eager,” you teased.

“You have no idea,” Namjoon chuckled deeply. He kissed you again, this time much deeper as he walked you backwards towards the bed. Once you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees, you pulled away from his lips and looked up at him. 

“Help me take this off?” You whispered, taking a second to turn around so that your back was facing him. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. The feeling of his fingertips against your skin made you shiver and when your dress dropped down to the floor in a pool around your feet, the feeling of his eyes on you made you get chills. 

“Did you wear this for me?” Namjoon asked before leaning forward and pressing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, referring to the white, lace bra and panty set that you had been wearing underneath your dress. 

“Maybe,” you breathed out, his lips on your skin making it hard for you to focus. 

“Gorgeous. Lay down for me?” He said and you nodded before bending down and crawling onto the bed. When you flipped over to lie on your back, Namjoon was working on taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he had underneath.

“You still ok?” He checked in as he climbed onto the bed as well and you smiled as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, leaning up and kissing him again. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouth falling open as Namjoon slipped his tongue inside. He then pulled away from your mouth, moving down to press kisses to your jaw before moving down to your neck. 

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispered against your skin and you just blushed as you looked up at the ceiling.

“About me?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Been thinking about your scent too.”

“What do I smell like to you?” You wondered, doing your best to keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you felt him start to move down again. 

“Like...pineapples and bananas,” he murmured as he grabbed the cups of your bra, pulling them down so that they sat right underneath your breasts. He then leaned down and sucked your right nipple into his mouth, making you arch your back up from the bed.

“Holy, huh,” you moaned and Namjoon chuckled at you, which automatically made you pout. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after popping your nipple out of his mouth. “You’re just so cute.” You couldn’t find the words to say anything else because Namjoon reached underneath you and you lifted your back up so that he could take your bra off completely, and he didn’t waste any time before taking your left nipple into his mouth. 

Once both of your nipples had stiffened to a peak, he moved downwards again, trailing his lips across your skin until he made it down to the line of your panties. 

“Lift up for me?” Namjoon asked and slowly, you lifted your hips and waited until he had grabbed the waistband of your panties and pulled them down before lowering your body back onto the bed. Once he pulled them off of your legs and threw them off the bed, you watched as he sat his hands on your knees and looked down at you. 

“Still good?” He wondered.

“Seriously, stop asking,” you giggled. “I’m nervous as hell but I want to do this so I’m good.”

“I just, you know you can tell me to stop at anytime and I will, right?” 

“I know, and that’s why I want this,” you smiled. “Want you to give me a bite.”

“Fuck, ok,” he exhaled harshly. “I want to eat you out first though.”

“Ok,” you nodded and you allowed him to push your knees apart, exposing your folds to him. He laid down on the bed so that he was right in between your legs, and you let out a loud gasp when you felt his tongue make contact with your clit. He used the tip of his tongue to make slow circles around your clit and even though he wasn’t placing a lot of pressure behind it, you felt like you were going to lose your mind.

“Holy shit, that feels...good,” you huffed and you felt Namjoon hum against you as he closed his entire mouth around your clit. The feeling was almost euphoric, and you couldn’t believe that you had been missing out on this for the last few years since you presented as an Omega.

“I’m gonna give you a finger ok?” Namjoon spoke up after taking his mouth off of you and you nodded, wincing lightly when he began to push his pointer finger inside of you. He then began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you, which made you moan lightly. 

“Feels good?” He asked. 

“Yeah. Weird but good,” you told him. 

“Good,” he smirked. “You’re getting wet.”

“Don’t say that,” you groaned. 

“Why not? It’s a good thing,” he shrugged. “It’ll make it easier for you to take my knot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you’re stuck with me,” he smiled before leaning down and taking your clit back into his mouth. As he fingered and licked you simultaneously, you found it a little harder to breathe because of the pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” you hissed when he tried to ease his middle finger inside of you. 

“It’s ok baby, we just gotta get you stretched out a little bit,” he whispered and you just decided to be quiet and let him do it. Admittedly, you admired how much time he was taking making sure that you were properly ready and it made your heart soften because you had never had a man (other than your father) be so gentle with you. 

“Namjoon, I-I think I’m going to come,” you whimpered and Namjoon took his mouth off of your clit for a few seconds. 

“Go ahead baby,” he encouraged you before placing his mouth back on you. Sure enough, it didn’t take much longer before your body seized up, your orgasm washing over you. Namjoon continued to stroke you through it and by the time that it passed, you were reaching down and pushing him away from you. 

“Holy shit, that felt good,” you giggled, making Namjoon laugh as well. 

“That’s good,” He replied as he sat up onto his knees. When your eyes trailed downwards, they widened a little at the sight of the bulge in his pants.

“Should I, um,” you stammered as you motioned towards his pants and he looked down, chuckling before looking back up at you. 

“You don’t have to and besides, seeing you come turned me on and I doubt I’d last,” he admitted.

“Oh, ok,” you smiled shyly. He then pulled off the dress shirt that he had on, letting it fall onto the floor before moving onto his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down. He pushed them, along with his underwear, down his legs and your jaw dropped a little from the sight of his cock.

You didn’t know what you expected, but you definitely didn’t expect his cock to be so thick and long. You had to admit, actually seeing it made you even more nervous.

“Hey,” Namjoon called out and you looked up at him. “It’ll be ok. I’m still going to go slow.”

“O-Ok,” you whispered as he climbed between your legs. He reached out with two fingers and gathered some of your slickness from your orgasm before using it to lubricate his cock. 

“Ready?” He questioned as he positioned his cock right in front of your entrance and once you nodded, he slowly began to push into you. The stinging pain hit you immediately and you yelped out loud, reaching up and clutching onto Namjoon’s forearms. “Y/N?”

“Hurts,” you muttered through grit teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, bending down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t try to push any further, he waited until you gave him a small nod before pressing his hips forward again. You were almost ready to tell him to forget the entire thing as the stinging pain seemed to become worse the more he pushed into you. Before you knew it though, he had bottomed out and was looking down at you intensely.

“What?” You asked him.

“You just, you look so beautiful,” he complimented you.

“Are you just saying that because you’re inside of me right now?” You joked.

“I mean it,” he laughed. 

“Well, thank you,” you responded and he leaned down to kiss you again. He then slowly pulled his hips back before pushing back in, which caused you to let out a stuttered moan into his mouth. The pain was still thee but as he began to fuck you, it slowly went away and was replaced by what was probably the greatest pleasure that you had ever felt in your life up to that point. 

“So tight baby,” Namjoon grunted after he pulled away from the kiss. 

“F-feels so full,” you whimpered. 

“Good. I’m gonna fill you even more with my knot,” he said gruffly as he looked down at you. “You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he instructed you.

“I-I want your.....k-knot,” you stuttered and he literally groaned at your words. He began to fuck you a little faster, making you grip onto him and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Been thinking about this,” he moaned. “Been thinking about how good you would feel wrapped around my cock.”

“Me t-too,” you confessed. 

“Fuck, you’ve been thinking about me baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Since you told me that you wanted to...fill me with your, uh, knot. Thought about you calling me baby too.”

“You like it?” He smiled.

“Love it.”

“Then I’ll call you that as often as I can,” he promised. He continued to fuck you, and you realized that you were feeling the same buildup of pressure that you did when he was fingering you. 

“I-I’m gonna come Namjoon,” you announced breathily and he sighed.

“Thank god,” he huffed as he began to thrust into you both faster and harder, and your grip on him became so tight that you were sure you’d leave marks on his skin. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad.”

“Do it,” you encouraged him. “Want you to bite me too.”

“Come first,” he shot back as he focused all of his energy into making sure that you did so. After a few more thrusts, you were coming right onto his cock, your essence covering more of his cock every time that he pulled it out and then pushed it right back in. 

“Ready for a bite?” He asked and you nodded your head numbly. Leaning down, he stuck his face in your neck and began to suck on the skin there. As soon as you released a moan at the feeling, you felt his teeth sink in. 

You had heard a lot about mating bites and how it would feel when you finally received one, but you could truthfully say that the feeling was indescribable. You truly felt like you were now connected to Namjoon in a way that you had never been connected with any one before and the feeling was almost so overwhelming that you almost didn’t recognize that Namjoon’s knot was pushing its’ way inside of you.

“God damn,” Namjoon groaned deeply as his knot fully popped into you, and you gasped when you felt his cum pouring into you right after. You leaned up and after finding the perfect spot, you sunk your teeth into his neck as well, giving him a mating bite too. 

Namjoon collapsed on top of you and the two of you stayed like that for a while, at least 15 minutes, basking in the after glow of your new matching mating bites. 

“No offense or anything,” you spoke up. “But you’re heavy and it’s hot in here.”

“Some offense taken,” he laughed as he lifted himself off of you. “My knot has gone down but it’s gonna hurt when I pull out.”

“Go slow, ok?” You requested and he nodded, looking down in between your legs and slowly pulling out of you. It did hurt a little and you even winced a little bit, but it wasn’t that bad all in all. 

“Y/N-ah?” He called as he laid down next to you and you gently turned over onto your side to face him.

“What happened to baby?” You simpered with a teasing smile, making him chuckle. 

“I’m still gonna call you that,” he assured you. “But I wanted to talk to you seriously.”

“Ok, shoot,” you shrugged. 

“I know that you didn’t necessarily choose all of this and neither did I, but I don’t want you to worry,” he began. “I take this marriage and this relationship just as seriously as if we met in the conventional sense and I really mean it when I say that I can see myself falling in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I can already tell that you’re kind, selfless, loving, and the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever met in my life. I’d only be so lucky if you fell in love with me.”

“Well, I think that I can fall in love with you too,” you confessed, making him grin widely. “And I hope that I do.”

[mangoofthesea]

For the prompt - zukka, ATLA, something hurt comfort with zuko being the hurt one?

hello! I'm so so sorry this took so long, my free time drastically decreased this week suddenly. But it's finally here because I loved this prompt and was super excited to write it, and I was finally able to! Yay! And I really enjoyed it, I always forget how much I love writing for these two.

anyway, without further ado here's the ficlet that turned into more of a short fic oops

--

The infirmary is quiet as Sokka enters, looking around with sharp movements trying to find dark hair, pale skin, and a burn scar. Thanks to it being the royal palace infirmary, it wasn’t too difficult though, not with there only being one bed with a patient in. One clad in the elegant reds and golds deserving of the ruler of a nation. If a little rumpled.

“Zuko!” Sokka shouts over the low buzz of sound from the rest of the room's occupants - all seeming to be bodyguards or doctors.

Zuko looks up sharply, and his expression seems to shift through a couple different emotions before settling on a sheepish smile that has Sokka's fear shifting to anger.

He stalks over to Zuko's bedside, as he goes watching Zuko attempt to sit straighter and wince as he does, hand going to his side.

"Sokka, hi." Zuko says, smiling with a slight wince. "How was your journey?"

"Don't do that!" Zuko frowns.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't act like you don't have a fucking stab wound!" Zuko's eyes dart away briefly then come back to Sokka, expression reverting to placating and that same innocent expression he saw him try to use to calm down his uncle after he sustained his lightning injury.

"It's fine, Sokka, really. Don’t worry about it. They caught the attacker, and even if they hadn’t his skill was stealth, not combat. It was no trouble for me subduing him.”

Sokka purses his lips, looking down at his boyfriend and takes a deep breath that is supposed to be calming but only serves to give him a moment to be more annoyed when he sees Zuko’s eyes follow the rise and fall of his chest. Biting the inside of his cheek, he folds his arms across his chest and closes his eyes.

“I’m not mad I’m not mad I’m not mad,” he repeats to himself under his breath. Why is he exclusively friends with noble idiots?

Well, noble idiots and Toph.

He opens his eyes to find wide gold eyes looking at him, and a soft smile pulling at the rough edge of burnt skin.

“Zuko, getting stabbed is not a ‘this is fine’ kind of thing!”

Well he tried.

“But I am-”

“Shut up. Shut up right now. If you say you’re fine I’m breaking up with you and getting on another boat back to the south pole, ambassadorial duties be damned.”

Sokka has no intention of fulfilling that threat, but when Zuko’s eyes drop to the edge of his robes pooling on the bed he’s sat on, suddenly unsure, Sokka regrets even making it hyperbolically. The bed is solid when he sits on it beside Zuko, sighing again as he tries to corral the wave of fear and anger that he’s feeling so as to not keep aiming it at his boyfriend as much as he wants to chew him out for not being more careful.

“Zuko, I’m sorry. Just…”

Zuko looks up, and he looks so like a sad polarbear puppy Sokka immediately regrets ever saying anything. Even with the storm of feelings he still has swirling in his chest, he’s taken aback by how beautiful Zuko looks. His hair is loose around his face for once, something Sokka normally only sees late at night when he gets changed out of his official robes and removes the hair piece from his hair. Right now, he’s in a state of undress normally reserved for sparring as well, soft slightly billowing red trousers and no shirt under the robe that has now fallen open, revealing the bandages underneath.

In the face of it all, Sokka can’t help but be struck by the fact he could have lost his boyfriend today. His boyfriend who he hasn’t seen in four months before he had walked into the infirmary a few moments ago..

“Fuck I missed you,” Sokka says, voice breaking on the last word as he darts forward suddenly to wrap his arms around Zuko’s shoulders. He hears Zuko hiss a breath out quietly indicating his pain and Sokka curses and tries to pull back, but Zuko doesn’t allow it. Before he can pull back more than an inch, Zuko’s arms are around his back, clutching onto his travelling clothes tightly and burying his face in Sokka’s shoulder. In response, Sokka holds him tighter.

“You really scared me, firelily. I got here and they said you were in the infirmary. That there had been an attack.”

“It was a couple hours ago,” Zuko replies quietly, voice half muffled by his shoulder. “I had hoped I’d be able to be walking around when you arrived. I didn’t want to worry you.”

Sokka scoffs, but doesn’t let go. No matter how weird it feels to be talking to the wall behind Zuko’s head, the feeling of him, safe and so warm and in his arms, it doesn’t feel weird at all.

“Yeah, well. I’m gonna worry, okay. I love you, of course I’m going to worry, even if you’re claiming you’re fine. Which you absolutely fucking aren’t.” He cinches his arms tighter around the muscular shoulders and turns his face into Zuko’s hair.

Zuko meanwhile, has gone still in a way that is quickly worrying Sokka.

“Zuko, are you okay?” he says, trying to hide the tremor in his tone. What if the dagger had been poisoned? What if it was slow acting and now Zuko was going to die because Sokka hadn’t been here to stop this happening? What if-

“You love me?”

Sokka blinks and sits back frowning, finally detangling himself from the hug. Zuko does the same, but keeps a hold of the side of Sokka’s tunic in the same way Sokka keeps a hold of the sleeve of Zuko’s robe.

“What? Zuko, of course I love you?”

Zuko bites the inside of his lip and his eyes begin to water. Sokka panics.

“Wait wait! No, hey, I’m sorry, don’t cry I mean-”

He cuts himself off when Zuko laughs.

“No, Sokk, it’s fine, fuck. I-” he stops, and swallows. “You’ve never said you love me before.” Sokka frowns.

“Huh? What, no, I’m sure I have.” He must have? He’s sure. All he’s been able to think of for the last few months is how much he loves Zuko and can’t wait to see him again and-

Oh fuck.

Zuko had left him to process, looking on with an amused watery smile, quietly waiting for him to respond.

“That was the first time I said I loved you.” Zuko smiles and nods.

“Yeah. It was. I love you too though.”

Then Sokka finds himself reacting and he totally understands Zuko’s now. The words feel like a warm soft blanket being wrapped around his heart, and it's like he can’t breathe from how much he adores this amazing man in front of him.

They come together suddenly, but when their lips land it's soft. Tender and gentle, imbued with all the affection that has been swarming in his chest from every letter, every moment of distance where he couldn’t wake up to the sunlight streaming over gorgeous pale skin and shining black hair resting on silk sheets.

The kiss only lasts a few moments, then they pull back and this time it’s Sokka who tucks his face into the crook of Zuko’s neck, clutching the back of his robe tightly and Zuko responding in kind.

“You’re still not off the hook for getting stabbed,” Sokka eventually says, muffled by Zuko’s shoulder. He feels the responding chuckle reverberate and holds on tighter, uncaring any more if the grip is too much for Zuko to deal with yet. If it is, he’ll apologise later.

They have time.

[angelfishofthelord]

"I know what you did"

Whumptober Day 4: pushed. (also on a03)

From a dark au idea I've had for awhile where Cas goes off to be a vigilante post 15x03. And after seeing @dadstiel liveblogging about the end of s14 I wanted to write a scene about what happened in 14x19.

There’s been half a dozen similar stories in the past few months: a child trafficking ring in a state up north was busted and all the men holding the children were discovered either dead or comatose; an abusive father of two young girls was dropped off at the steps of a police station, reduced to a drooling crippled mess; an anonymous call about a factory with underage workers, and when the authorities arrived they found the teenagers huddled in the corner and the burnt, sightless body of the boss under the desk.

“He saved us,” the teenagers were quoted as saying in the article. Similar words used in the most recent news where a local gang that was using eighth graders to sell their drugs was uncovered in the same mysterious pattern. “It was this man...he just came in like the wind,” said Timothy Grant, one of the 14 year olds who was a runaway that had been promised protection by the gang but was then forbidden to contact his parents. “Everyone who ever hurt us was….gone. And he said we could go home now.”

Sam closes the laptop with a sigh. The descriptions in the reports vary, but there are always a few that are consistent: a man with inhuman speed, and the glowing light that either destroys the evildoer or heals the injured. It could be a rogue angel, or one of Chuck’s little comebacks like Lilith.

He ignores the other option, the faint suspicion niggling in the back of his mind.

No. It can't be.

Whoever it is, he’s finally close to finding them. They’ve been smart; security footage has shown that they change cars frequently. The most recent one was a blue pickup truck left under an overpass in the next town. Sam has been staying in the area, checking headlines and talking with local police to see if they’ve seen anyone with a penchant for dispensing judgement on those who hurt the innocents. Like some kind of vigilante, Sam thinks as he pulls up a few feet away from the dark outline of the barn. He got a call from the lady at the diner across from the motel he’s been staying at, saying her friend saw something outside the abandoned Miller farm. It’s probably nothing, but he's here to check, just to be sure.

The first floor of the barn is empty but Sam knows that someone’s definitely here. There’s a flicker of light in the loft above and the muffled sound of grunting. Sam puts the flashlight in his mouth and ascends the ladder carefully. He keeps one hand free and on the hilt of the angel blade in his jacket. As he gets closer to the top he sees a pair of black shoes and the bare, bloodied feet of another man tied to a chair. The man with shoes has his back to him; he looms over the seated man, one hand pinning his shoulder against the spine of the chair.

Sam reaches the last rung of the ladder in time to clearly see the standing man shove his hand into the other’s chest. Light swirls around the invasion, blazing and white-hot, before he withdraws his hand. The man in the chair slumps back, eyes blank and jaw slack.

He knows who it is even before he turns around. He always knew, in a way. “Cas?”

Cas glances back at him with a twinge of surprise in his eyes before he turns back around. “Sam.”

Sam steps closer to the man in the chair. His fingers are still close to the angel blade in his jacket. “Is-Is he dead?”

“No.” Cas keeps his back to him, folding up a map on the wooden table at his side. He sounds strange. Frigid. “That would be a mercy he doesn’t deserve.”

“W-What are you doing?”

“Recharging.”

“No, I mean--that’s not--” Sam rubs a hand over his face. “You’ve been doing all of this? All those people--you killed--why, Cas, why are you doing this?” He knew Cas must be devastated after Jack’s death, after Chuck’s betrayal, and some kind of subsequent fallout with Dean, but the reality of what he's been doing still feels like being hit by a tank.

“I’m saving people. Children,” he adds.

So it is about Jack. “Cas,” Sam moves closer, trying to sound placating. He puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I know losing Jack wasn’t easy. I miss him too but this isn't--”

Cas whirls around, eyes burning blue, and Sam finds himself being hurled across the room, crashing into the wooden boards of the wall before landing hard on the ground. He gasps, trying to find his breath, and looks up to see Cas hovering above him, palm outstretched, face wreathed in fury. There’s a slight pressure on Sam’s shoulders; he’s not being pinned to the wall, but it’s enough to tells him that he absolutely will be if he tries to move.

“C-Cas?” Sam breathes. Maybe he's possessed, maybe Chuck is controlling him. He has to get through to him before it's too late. "It's just me."

“Don’t talk about Jack that way,” Cas says, voice low and lethal. “I know what you did. He told me everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

The shadows darken around Cas’ face. “You prayed to him. He was locked in that box because he answered your prayer.”

Oh. This isn't someone else manipulating Cas, this is really him. Sam feels the tug of shame sloshing in his gut but he brushes it aside and instead makes a faint attempt to rise, only to feel the firm nudge of being pushed back. “Look, I know it wasn’t the best thing to do, Cas, but there was no other way, Jack was dangerous, and he--”

“Did you even try to find another way?” Cas snaps. “You fought fiercely to keep Dean from his fate in that box. Yet you were ready to condemn Jack to an eternity of that same fate without a second thought.”

Sam swallows hard. He tries to remember all the mental gymnastics he did to convince himself why Jack had to go in there, but Cas is still talking. “Do you know why other angels don’t usually answer prayers? Because it makes us vulnerable. It’s not considered a wise strategic move because it calls an angel, by name, to a specific place. There’s no time to scope out the destination for danger or to evaluate the potential risks.” He moves in closer, towering above him. “Or if it’s going to be an ambush.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.” He really is. “We didn’t handle it right, and I wish to Go-” he catches himself. “I wish Jack was still here so he could know how sorry I am. But Cas…what you’re doing isn’t right either. You must know that.”

The eerie glow of Cas’ eyes pierce through the night. “You know, when the Bunker’s alarms went off, it wasn’t just because Jack was trying to break out of the box. I could hear him. He was screaming. The same way he was screaming when….” the light in his eyes suddenly dims and Cas’ hand drops back to his side.

The pressure on Sam yields abruptly and he immediately leans forward, gulping for air. He knows what Cas didn’t say; the sight of Jack collapsing in that graveyard, crying out as searing light ruptured from him, still frequents Sam’s own nightmares. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, useless as the words are. “It wasn’t--”

“I loved him.” Cas isn’t looking at him now; he’s focused on some distant point above his head, blinking hard. “You have no idea how much Jack meant to me, how much I--” his voice catches and he turns away. In between the shafts of light Sam can see his jaw working, the bob of his throat and clench of his fist as Cas struggles to compose himself. A cold, sickly way of guilt washes over Sam and he feels almost nauseous. Every excuse and reasoning dries up on his tongue.

After a minute Cas glances back at him, his expression once more glacial. “You and Dean have each other. Don’t come looking for me again.”

[mandowh0re]

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.

A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Word Count: 6274

Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.

Happy Reading!

“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”

There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.

“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.

“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”

“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.

“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.

Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”

“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.

“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”

“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.

“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.

Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.

It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.

***

“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”

“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.

Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.

“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”

“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.

As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.

Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.

Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.

She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.

“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.

Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.

“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.

Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.

“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”

“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.

Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.

“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”

Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.

“Oh!”

“Oh my god!”

“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.

“Oh my god!”

“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.

“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.

“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.

“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.

Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.

“I know! I know! I know!”

“You know?” Peter yells back.

“You know?” Wanda echoes him.

“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”

Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”

The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.

“Hi! Hi!”

Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.

“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.

Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.

“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.

Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.

“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.

Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

***

“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”

They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.

Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”

Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”

There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Hello, what are you all up to?”

“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”

“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”

Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.

Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”

Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”

The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”

Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.

“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.

“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.

“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”

Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”

Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”

Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”

“I can’t take anymore-”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.

“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”

“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.

“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.

It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”

Thor groans and leans back in the chair.

“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”

There’s another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Wanda calls.

The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.

“Hello, children.”

Everyone in the room replies with hellos.

“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”

There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.

Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.

“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.

“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”

Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”

Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”

Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-

“Are you ill?”

She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”

Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.

“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”

“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”

“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.

“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”

Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.

“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.

Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.

***

“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.

“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”

You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.

“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”

“What?”

“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”

You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”

You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”

“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.

You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”

“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”

“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”

Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”

You narrow your eyes.

“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”

You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”

“Well it’s not flexed right now.”

You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

***

You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.

You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”

You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.

Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.

“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”

He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”

“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.

“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.

You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”

Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”

You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”

Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”

They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.

“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.

Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”

You nod, “Actually I did.”

“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”

You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”

“You are serious??”

“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”

***

The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.

“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.

“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.

You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.

“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.

Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”

“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”

Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”

“Thor…” You warn.

“... And Wanda and Peter.”

You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.

Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”

“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.

“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”

An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”

“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”

You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”

Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”

Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.

***

Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.

She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.

“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.

They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.

“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.

“On speaker!” Wanda adds.

Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.

“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.

Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”

“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.

“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”

Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.

“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.

“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”

He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”

“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.

He nods slowly, “They know you know.”

Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”

“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, “They don’t know that we know they know we know.”

Thor groans behind them.

“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.

He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”

***

Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.

“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.

You nod, “Oh yeah.”

Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.

“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.

“Good luck!” Peter whispers.

Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.

He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.

You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.

“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”

The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”

Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”

Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.

Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.

***

The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.

Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”

“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”

Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.

Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”

Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”

Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.

Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.

~Meanwhile~

You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.

“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.

“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”

“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”

“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.

“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”

He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.

You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”

You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.

~

Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.

Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.

“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.

“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.

“Don’t give away the farm!”

Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.

It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.

“Natasha.”

“Loki.”

“Come on in.” He purrs.

“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.

Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”

“Of course.”

Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.

“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”

“Me? Never. You?”

Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.

“So do I.” He takes it.

They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.

When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”

He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.

“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.

Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.

“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.

“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”

“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”

“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.

“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.

“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”

Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.

“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.

He opens the door and slams it behind him.

“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.

“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.

Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.

~

“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.

She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.

Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.

Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.

“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”

Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.

The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.

“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.

“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.

~

“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”

“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”

You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.

He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”

She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”

Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.

“They’re very nice.”

They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.

“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”

Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.

Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.

“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”

Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.

But neither does.

It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.

“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.

“Hah!”

“I cannot have sex with you.”

“And why not?” Nat pushes.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”

The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.

“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.

You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.

You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”

He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.

“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.

You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.

“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.

Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”

“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.

“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”

“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”

Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.

***

Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.

Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.

The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.

“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.

Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.

“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.

Tony runs down the hallway screaming.

“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”

You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.

“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.

You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m going on the lam.”

You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”

You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.

Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.

“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.

Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.

“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.

“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”

“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”

Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”

“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”

Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.

You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.

He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.

“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.

Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.

Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”

The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.

“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.

“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.

Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.

“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.

When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”

Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.

Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.

After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

***

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[weighty-ghosts]

‘Stolen Kisses’ (wolfstar)

Stolen Kisses, by weightyghosts

“It felt like there was a constant tension in the air, an anticipation, like they were hanging in the balance, waiting for something to push them in the right direction. The problem was, Remus didn’t know which direction was the right one.”

Rating: Teen

Word count: 2706

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: March 3, 2021

Warnings: None

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811711

     “I can’t believe you’ve never let us visit before!”

“He’s been keeping the muggles all to himself, I tell you.”

“The height of betrayal!”

Remus rolled his eyes at his ridiculous friends as they strolled down the main road of the quaint village near his family’s house, feeling lazy and languid with the summer sun beating down on them.

“Muggles are brilliant,” James stated, his voice full of wonder as he stared with open fascination at everything there was to see. “I mean, look, look!” He stopped to point at the window of an appliance store, and Sirius peeked curiously over his shoulder, “What even is that?”

“It’s a dishwasher, James,” Remus patiently informed him.

“Wow… Brilliant, I tell you! The things muggles invent!”

“James!” Remus admonished as James’ voice had been rising to a shout, “Keep it down! What was rule #3 when I said you could visit?”

James looked back at him sheepishly and the three boys recited the third rule Remus had laid out in his last letter to them.

“‘Don’t break the International Statute of Secrecy and force the Ministry to obliviate my neighbours,’” they quoted in chorus.

“That’s right,” Remus nodded, “Now behave or I won’t show you the toy store.”

“No, ” Peter whined, “I want to find out what a kazoo is!” 

James blinked at Peter, then leaned in to Sirius to ask under his breath, “The bloody hell is a kazoo?” 

“Merlin if I know,” Sirius shrugged, “Wormtail?”

“I just said I don’t know!” 

“We’ll be good, Moony,” Sirius said to Remus with an angelic smile as they set off again down the street, “Don’t worry.”

There were a lot of things Remus had worried about when James had insisted he, Sirius, and Peter were coming to stay at the Lupin’s for a week in August, but getting into trouble wasn’t one of them; he knew it would happen regardless. Remus was more concerned about Sirius. More specifically, his inescapable feelings for Sirius.

Something had changed over the course of their sixth year at Hogwarts, and at first Remus thought it was a result of what Sirius had done the year prior; their friendship was strained and rocky for a long time afterwards, but eventually, it somehow brought them closer. The closer they got, the more Remus realized just how different his relationship with Sirius was than with anyone else. 

By the end of last term, Remus could hardly stand to be alone with him. It felt like there was a constant tension in the air, an anticipation, like they were hanging in the balance, waiting for something to push them in the right direction. The problem was Remus didn’t know which direction was the right one. 

“Let’s stop in here,” he said suddenly, desperate for a distraction, and gestured to a corner store they were walking by. “I’ll get us some lemonades.”

“Thank Merlin, it’s hot as dragon’s breath out here,” Peter complained, pulling on the collar of his shirt to try and get some air on his skin.

Remus held the door to the shop open as the others shuffled through, and Sirius winked at him as he passed. “Such a gentleman, Moony.”

“Who said chivalry is dead?” Remus replied, walking in after him, and if Remus’ cheeks were a little pink, it must have been from the sun; certainly not from Sirius winking at him.

Peter and James had quickly disappeared down one of the aisles, and Remus found himself wandering around with Sirius.

“Do you actually know what all this stuff is?” Sirius inquired, squinting at the muggle items on the shelves.

“Yes,” Remus laughed, “Of course.” There was something tugging at his heart at the sight of Sirius in such mundane surroundings; he was so out of place here, with his magic practically radiating off of him, and yet, Remus felt like it suited him, like he could naturally fit in if he wanted to. 

“I reckon James was wrong,” Sirius mused, breaking through Remus’ thoughts, as he reached out to pick something up from a shelf. “I think muggles are barmy. I mean, who would ever want beans in a can?” He showed the can to Remus as if it were an offensive old shoe. “Or corn! Why is there corn in a can, Moony?”

Remus couldn’t help the bubbles of laughter that escaped him as Sirius showed him more and more banal pieces of muggle life.

“No!” Sirius gasped, “No, tell me I’m not looking at canned tuna!”

Remus swallowed his giggles and adopted a somber demeanor, “I wouldn’t want to lie to you.” 

“Moony! That is horrifying! How does a fish even fit in that tiny thing? This is absolute madness.”

“I know you’re used to food magically appearing in front of you, Padfoot,” Remus mocked, his voice dripping with condescension, “Literally by magic, but the other half of the world has to cook it for themselves.”

“I know that!” he cried indignantly, then raised his chin in the air, “I know all about cooking, thank you. James’ mum and I cooked scones the other day.”

“Baked. You baked scones.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I said, but aren’t you impressed?”

“I am,” Remus acknowledged, pretending to focus on a box of candy rings, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Moony.”

Remus stilled and looked back at Sirius, who seemed to be standing closer to him than a moment ago. There was something about the way he spoke that made Remus think they were talking about two different things.

“Really,” Remus quipped, trying to keep his voice steady, “You think after six and a half years I don’t know everything about you?”

“I know you don’t.”

“You’re saying there are hidden depths to Sirius Black?” Remus certainly felt as if he were losing his footing and tumbling into those same depths.

“I can’t help that I’m a complex, intriguing person, Moony,” Sirius purred, his head tilted to the side.

“I suppose-”

“LADS!”

They jumped a foot in the air as James whipped around the corner with Peter in tow. Remus noticed Sirius taking a significant step backwards; he hadn’t realized they’d been leaning in so close together.

“What is it, Prongs?” Sirius asked with a smile on his face, though it seemed a little forced.

“Have you seen the crisps aisle?”

“No, we were busy looking at cans of fish.”

“What? That’s nasty- no,” James cringed but shook the unpleasant image out of his head and rallied with enthusiasm, “You have to come see all the different kinds of crisps. Pads, remember crisps? Remember we had them last summer?”

“I remember.”

“There’s a barbecue flavour! I don’t even know what barbecue is but I have to taste it! Come on!”

Sirius sent a quick smile Remus’ way and let James tug him back to the wonder that was the crisps aisle. Peter also smiled at Remus (he was always happy when James was happy), and they followed the other two boys, drawn by the excited noises they were making. Well, James was making.

“Salt and vinegar, Pads! We have to try it. Get one of each-”

“You should send some to Lily!” Peter suggested eagerly, then dropped his voice, “She’s muggleborn; I bet she loves crisps.”

James dropped the bags he was holding and grabbed Peter’s face, planting a big, sloppy kiss on each of his cheeks, much to his delight.

“Brilliant, Pete! Yes! We’ll get one of each for us, and one of each for Lily-”

“Er...James?” Remus asked hesitantly, “How are you planning on paying for all that? Did you bring any muggle money?”

James’ face fell like Remus had just told him his favourite broom had been smashed to pieces.

“I left it in my bag at your place. Oh, no! This is a disaster.”

“Relax, mate,” Sirius placated, then turned to Remus, “Can’t we take the stuff now and come back with the money later?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Remus chuckled, shaking his head at Sirius’ ignorance. 

“Well…” Sirius was looking at James’ dejected face, and Remus could see the cogs in his mind turning, thinking of possible solutions to their problem. “We could-”

“No hexing the shopkeeper!” Remus quickly interjected, peering over the shelves to the middle-aged woman reading a magazine behind the cash register.

“Alright, alright,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “We’ll just have to come back later, eh James?”

“I guess,” James sighed dramatically.

“But in the meantime…” Sirius paused meaningfully, and James’ eyes began to light up at the mischievous grin on Sirius’ face, “How about a game?” Remus groaned inwardly and prayed that whatever plan he was concocting didn’t involve breaking the law; muggle or magic.

“I dare you to knick something,” Sirius challenged.

Remus should have known better.

“Knick what?” James asked, his calculating eyes darting to the items around them.

“Anything. But just one item.”

“Done,” James accepted easily, “But you have to do it too.”

“Done.”

“Wormy? Moony? Care to join in?”

Sirius laughed. “As if Moony is going to steal-”

“I’m in,” Remus announced. He smiled at Sirius’ dumbfounded expression as James convinced Peter, and Remus leaned in closer to him to whisper, “I’m a complex and intriguing person too, Padfoot. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He watched as Sirius’ eyes flicked down to his mouth, and Remus bit his bottom lip as his stomach contracted with a sudden, almost painful intensity.

“Alright!” James pronounced loudly, and Remus and Sirius jumped apart again, “Off you go, and let’s meet in the alley beside that dish-cleaner-”

“Dishwasher.”

“-Dishwasher shop,” James finished, and immediately snatched up a small bag of crisps, shoved it under his shirt, and skipped out of the store while thanking the shopkeeper for her excellent service. 

Remus and Peter were left staring at the closing door with their mouths agape. 

Sirius was smirking with pride and amusement, then turned to Peter. “Go on, Wormy,” Sirius nudged him, “Do it quickly before the nice muggle lady gets suspicious and calls the muggle Aurors on you.”

Peter gulped audibly, sweat starting to drip down his temples, and turned frantically down the next aisle.

“I don’t know why I’m friends with you, honestly.”

Sirius grinned at Remus. “Because life is always interesting when I’m around, Moons.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Remus teased, his stomach doing another flip at the other boy’s brilliant smile. They began to meander through the shop as nonchalantly as possible, and again Remus felt like he was standing at a crossroads with Sirius; torn between two paths, two possible directions with two different outcomes, and someone had to make a choice before it was too late.  

“So,” Sirius stopped abruptly and turned to face Remus, “Have you decided?”

“What?” Remus asked sharply, having a wild thought that Sirius had somehow read his mind.

“Have you decided what you’re going to knick?”

“Oh, right, maybe-”

“You going to pay for that, then?”

Sirius and Remus swiftly stood on their tiptoes to look over to where Peter was frozen in front of the door to the shop, beet red, with a package of black licorice sticking out of his back pocket. The woman was leaning casually over the cash register, gazing at Peter with a mixture of exasperation and entertainment. 

“I-I’m sorry!” Peter squeaked, as he whipped the licorice out and threw it on the counter, “I’m sorry! I don’t want- I’m not- I- Sorry!” And he ran out the door. 

Sirius burst out laughing, and Remus tried to shush him so as not to draw attention, although he knew the woman was already watching them closely.

“Hush, Sirius!” Remus' voice shook as he tried to contain his own laughter.

“Poor Pete,” Sirius crowed, wiping a fake tear from his eye, “He’s never very good under pressure is he?”

“You are a terrible person.”

“Good thing you love me anyway,” he grinned. 

Remus watched as Sirius realized what he’d said, his cheeks flushing pink and his smile wavering, and he tried to lean coolly against a shelf of sweets. Remus wished he knew what to say, although he was pretty sure his throat was closing up on him so he wouldn’t have been able to anyway. They stood awkwardly looking at their feet, waiting again, waiting for a push in the right direction.

“You know, it’s now or never, Moony.”

Remus’ head whipped up and he stared into Sirius’ striking eyes.

“N-now or never?” 

“Yeah, you better choose quick,” Sirius explained, his voice low, and Remus once again felt as if they were talking about something else. “What are you doing to take, Moony?” 

Remus didn’t have to ask Sirius what he would steal; he had snatched up Remus’ heart long ago. With that realization, he knew what to do; Remus had to be the one to choose which direction was right, and he had to be the one to push them towards it.

He glanced around them for a moment, then slowly stepped up in front of Sirius, bringing them almost toe to toe. He reached forward, his eyes sliding from Sirius’ to the shelf over his shoulder, and he heard Sirius’ breath catch as he leaned close, close enough to feel the warmth from each other’s bodies, and smell the sweat on each other’s skin. 

Remus was acutely aware of Sirius’ eyes on him as he kept moving until they were almost cheek to cheek, and he turned his head at the last second, capturing Sirius’ lips in a quick kiss that tasted like honey and summer.

He pulled back, grinning at Sirius’ shocked face, and turned away abruptly, leaving Sirius standing there stunned. He floated over to the refrigerators, feeling like he was flying on the fastest of brooms, and grabbed four lemonades. He brought them to the counter, where the woman eyed him with suspicion, before smiling knowingly when Remus overpaid for the drinks and told her to keep the change. 

Sirius, still slightly dazed, followed Remus out of the shop and around the corner to the alley where James and Peter were waiting. Peter was leaning against the wall, trying to calm his breathing, and James was patting his shoulder comfortingly, biting his cheek to try and stop from laughing.

“He’ll be fine,” James reassured.

“Have a lemonade, Pete,” Remus said, holding one out to him, which Peter accepted gratefully. Remus handed a bottle to James, then to Sirius, who blinked up at him as he accepted his drink, his face soft and vulnerable.

“So?” James inquired, “What’d you steal, then?” 

“Er,” Sirius cleared his throat and looked over at James, “Muggle chewing gum.” 

“Nice. And you, Moony?”

Sirius glanced at Remus nervously, but Remus simply put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, holding it up for them to see, smiling wryly.

“Ha!” James laughed, “Of course.” He threw his arm around Peter to steady him, and guided him out of the alley, muttering affirmations as they started down the street towards the toy shop Remus had promised to take them to.

“When did you grab that?” Sirius quietly asked when they were alone, walking at a distance from the other two.

“When I was stealing something else.”

He looked over at Sirius to see him smiling almost shyly, something Remus had rarely seen before, and he knew he would never tire of it; that private smile, one that was just for him. 

“It can’t have been better than the chocolate you swiped, though,” Sirius quipped.

“It might’ve been,” he teased.

“Probably difficult to compare,” Sirius tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes full of mischief, “When you only had a quick taste... Sounds like we should do a more thorough test, Moony.” 

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, his mind reeling and cheeks flushing at the implications, “Yeah, I think we should, Padfoot”

Remus brushed his hand against Sirius’, leaving a tingling sensation along his skin as they hurried to catch up to James and Peter. He was warm all over, not just from the brilliant sun high above them, and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, feeling confident that the path he was finally leading them down was the right one.

*

[iloveitwhen]

jasonette but like siblings but like angst- like that whole trope where they are blood related and got separated, or they didnt get separated idk thats cool too i just want some sibling jasonette😅

Wow. ok. uhmmmm. this is a lot i think?? I got a little jk a lot carried away and this past week was super busy so i’ll finish the second part later??

Again... a lot...

Jason is walking home after another night at the bar when he sees a small woman, teenager? Slip into a dark alleyway and two men follow in after her a few moments later. 

Jason curses and bolts across the street, what was this girl thinking? How stupid do you have to be to go into a dark alley where no one will hear you or care to help?

He jumps into the alley to find one man already slumped on himself on the floor and the other getting kicked in the teeth by army boots then falling limply. 

Jason curses again, impressed this time. He scans over the men noting that they probably had pretty good concussions judging from the dent in the garbage can the first man was laying next to and the way the second guy’s head smacked onto the concrete when he fell. He lands his eyes back on the woman, no, definitely a teenager, with a smile on his face that instantly falters. The girl is in a fighting stance and waiting for him to attack so he quickly raises his hands to placate her.

“I’m not here to fight you, I saw you get followed and I was coming to help.” 

“Nobody helps in Gotham,” she states, a dangerous edge to her voice that held a carefully hidden accent. 

“Not from around here, are you?” 

The girl narrows her eyes, “I was born and raised here, take a step further and you won’t be waking up tomorrow.” 

Jason pockets his hands and smirks. He likes her, she’s a fighter, she reminds him of himself when he was younger. 

“Ok. Just make sure you make it home safe. A girl’s going to get some unwanted attention at a time and place like this.” He turns around and crosses the street but as soon as he’s out of her sight he turns back and hides in the shadows to track her and make sure no one else tries to catch her alone. Just because she could handle herself the first time doesn’t mean she’s necessarily safe from the next attempt. 

The girl exits the alley and starts toward the direction of Jason’s apartment calmly as if she didn’t just get attacked. At least that means less walking for him. After a few minutes she slips into another dark alley, of course she does, and Jason crosses the street again going into his own empty alley before pulling his helmet on and scaling the building. As he peers over the side of the building his helmet scans the area giving him feedback he would normally miss due to the horrible lighting and telling him that the alley was empty. He figured she had somehow gotten into one of the buildings and decided to go home by rooftops since he was already up there. 

However, as he landed on the opposite rooftop his feet slipped from underneath him. Jason managed to roll out of it but before he could get his footing his hip was kicked into and he stumbled, tripped over a seemingly perfectly placed rock and smashed his head on the side of the stair house. Then, just as quickly as this all transpired, there was a body behind him, they hooked their fingers under his helmet and lifted it to expose his neck and press a knife with jagged points onto his neck. How did he know the knife had jagged points? Good question, it was, as previously mentioned, against his neck and piercing into his skin, drawing blood. 

“Why are you following me?” a girl’s voice filters through his mask and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His mask let him know through the constant visuals that the voice belonged to a female in their late teens, not that he didn’t already know that. 

“Making sure you got home safe,” he says carefully, weighing his options and trying to decide if he should let her feel like she got him or escape with a slight nick on his neck. 

Eh. Jason preferred to not have a bleeding neck no matter how small the cut. 

“Lies,” she hisses, digging the knife a bit deeper as a warning, maybe getting out sooner was a better idea. “What do you want?” 

“Knife off my throat first,” he manages without pushing his neck further onto the blade. 

A second later the girl releases him and jumps back with enough space between them to react if he ended up deciding to attack her. 

Jason gives her a quick glance as he stands up, a hand to his throat to check for blood. 

“I wasn’t lying-”

“You’re not fooling anyone you Red Hood wannabe,” she snaps. Jason just laughs in surprise, no one has ever accused him of being a Red Hood wannabe. He's the one who made the mantle into something to respect, something to fear. He stops laughing and levels a glare at the girl, his helmet telling him unhelpfully there was no match of facial recognition in any database. 

“I am Red Hood-” he started to growl out but she cut him off again. The audacity. 

“Red Hood wouldn’t have been caught by the person he was trailing, Red Hood wouldn’t have been caught off guard, Red Hood doesn’t have a stupid streak of white hair on his head. He may have been a theatre nerd but he wouldn’t do that.” 

Wait what. 

“What are you talking about?” But it was more of a demand than a question. 

“You’re not…” she trailed off waving her hand in the air trying to find a word, “slick. Same jacket, same shoes, same build, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone.” 

“Ok. Whatever, I’m going home.” He turns and starts jogging across the rooftop towards home. So much for helping out. 

“Where is he?” she calls out after him.

“Right here, princess,” he spat before jumping to the other rooftop. 

But as soon as his feet leave the building a big dark blue warbly hole appears and swallows him before he can react. Unfortunately for him the other side of that weird black hole was a face full of concrete. 

“Prove you’re him.” 

Oh this girl was something else. Jason shakes his disorientation away, he didn’t know how she did that, nor did he care but he was pissed. He swings his foot around and connects with her ankle, she falls as expected but easily bounces right back up and hops out of his range. 

“Do that again and I’ll have to break my no killing kids rule,” he growls out, staring her down for a moment. Her face was finally lit by the dim yellow street lamps and he could see the entirety of her face and all the raw emotions she was trying to hide. For a split second familiarity passed through him, like when you see someone at the library then at the store a few weeks later or you see an old school friend ten years later and can’t quite place them. Jason dismisses the feeling and turns to go. 

“Wait.” She says it so vulnerably that Jason gives her a chance, when he turns she pulls up her sleeve and shows off her forearm. 

In the center of her arm is a faded black tattoo that was a writing symbol, but because of its name and one of its uses it was used to brand child soldiers in Gotham from a particular gang that Red Hood obliterated as soon as his first order of business in Gotham. 

‡

It was the double dagger, or better known in Gotham as the death dagger. The children were expendable although highly trained and dangerous, they could give Damian a run for his money in the child assassin department. The tattoo was a reminder to the children and to the people they came across that they were soulless, emotionless, their lives and actions were not their own and they would give their lives willingly for the mission

Meaning who they were before was dead. No family, no connections, no one would notice if they went missing and no one would be able to identify their bodies if and when the time came. Sometimes poor families would sell one of their children and promise to forget them and to never contact them. 

Jason was led to assume that this was another child soldier looking to thank him, or kill him. It was 50/50 these days, some of those kids just never recovered. 

“So what is it that you want? You want my autograph across your head?” Jason asks dryly. 

The girl just huffs and pulls her sleeve back down. 

“I want to know if my brother is underneath that mask.”

I want to know if my brother is underneath that mask.

The words struck Jason deep in his chest but it only fueled his anger. He didn’t know why that hit so deep but he was not in the mood for this nor would he be at any time. 

“Just because I ended that gang doesn’t mean we’re family. Go find your other assassin siblings to play house with.” 

“Annette,” she calls after as he turns his back again. A strike of familiarity pulses through him and when he hesitates she continues, “that was my name before I was initiated. I was one of the first. Daddy’s little girl,” she was still talking louder than necessary since he hadn’t turned back around. “I’m the only one left from The 13.” 

Right. The 13. That’s what everyone called the first batch even as they were killed off, they were the most ruthless being the oldest and were also the most aggressive in proving their worth. It was common to find a number from 1-13 placed strategically behind at the crime scene, whoever had the most successful missions would be highly rewarded, or so he was told. 

“Do you remember?” 

“I remember destroying that gang and their stupid leader and having to kill some of your little friends and I also remember The 13 died within the first year and a half and were easily replaced by their younger friends.” 

“Do you remember me?”

“Look, kid,” he finally turns to look at her, “I don’t care, ok? Yay whoopdeedoo I saved you, get in line. It’s what I do, kill bad people and let the rest walk away. You’re not special.” 

“Annette Marie Todd,” she says hurriedly, like it’s a last resort. “Jason Peter Todd,” she continues, “just you. Me. And a blitzed out Mom.” 

Jason did not like this, he knew the Dagger Children were ruthless and expert manipulators but this was pushing it. He spun around to face her, ripping off his helmet, she already knew what he looked like and it was in the way of his death glare. 

“You don’t know who you are messing with. If you really were a Dagger you’d know that I am not one to be fucked with.” He slides his helmet back on and without a backward glance he runs off to the next roof and continues home. Thankfully not another portal thing opens up in front of him. 

———————————

Jason didn’t have a sister. He did not have a sister. He would remember having a sister. He would remember having a Dagger for a sister. But Annette was such a familiar name. And she had said her name was Annette Marie Todd. Todd. 

No that’s stupid. Impossible. She was just messing with him, for all he knew she could have been subtly showing her face in random places for him to react to the familiarity of her face and she could have said the name sometime in the last few months for him to vaguely recognize the sound of her name but not place it. 

But the Lazarus pit did alter his memories from childhood, it was like looking through a fog of red anger, or maybe it was always like that even before the pit, and it also completely wiped out other parts of his memory. But a sister? No. No way. 

Hours of this, circling around the possibilities and shifting around on his bed trying to get comfortable until he finally drifted off in a very restless sleep. 

Jason found himself in a familiar apartment, the one he lived in before his “mother” died. He looked around and it was more of the feeling of familiarity that convinced him where he was than anything else. He steps aside for a younger version of himself to run by him and turns to the window that led out to the fire escape and watches him climb out of it and close the window. Jason turns back around to see what Young Jason was hiding from. A man hands a thick envelope to his mother, Catherine Todd who had wrapped herself in a thin silk robe, her bony frame visible as well as her happy focus on the money inside that envelope. Jason couldn’t make out the man’s face but he turned around and grabbed the small hand of a little girl in pigtails. She turned her head and faced the window sending a smile but he couldn’t quite make out her face so he instead turned to himself sitting outside.

As he turned his surroundings changed but in his dreamstate he paid no mind to it. This time he was standing in an aisle of a store as a child. He looked around and found his mother dressed embarrassingly in a thin tank top and ragged jeans and flip flops. He feels a squeeze of his hand and looks down, his little sister is looking up at him and pointing to a rack of stuffed animals of Clifford the Big Red Dog that were suddenly there. He sends her a smile and looks up, intent on catching up with his mother and asking her to buy one but as he chases her his intent slips from his mind and instead he wants to taste the cupcakes he just saw. He opens a case and takes a bite but yelling makes him turn around and there is Batman towering over him. Instead of a tasty cupcake he is holding something thick and metal, a crowbar. He throws it at the man and turns to run away and jumps out of the parking garage and jumps into the air flying up. But he’s too slow, he tries kicking and swimming in the air to propel himself further away from Batman but a hand wraps around his foot. 

Jason jerks awake, breathing heavy and feeling uncomfortably hot. This was much more mild than his usual nightmares, if it could even be called a nightmare, but it was bad in a different way. It wasn’t unusual for Jason to be getting chased in his dreams by one thing or another and it always ended before whatever or whoever was chasing him got him but it was getting a little old honestly. 

His head was pounding so he slipped out of bed and poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen. As he takes a sip he recalls his dream and how he had looked down at his sister. But that couldn’t be right. 

A searing pain in his head forces him to tighten his grip on his cup before it goes away again. Stupid head. Stupid dream. Stupid girl trying to get in his head. 

As he lays back down a memory of clear grey eyes flashes across his mind’s eye. 

---

Throughout the next few days Jason tries to ignore the headaches and his dreams of the young black haired girl with grey eyes and of getting chased which was more frequent and more urgent than he remembered them being. It was just all a big waste of time. At least the Dagger girl wasn’t trying to find him anymore, he didn’t know how he would react if she showed up again. 

After another dream of getting chased, this time he was just so tired of it he got a few good punches in on the Bane/Joker demon that was chasing him when his phone buzzes, startling him awake. He ignores it in favor of a cup of coffee and checks the time on the oven that he never uses, it’s almost two o’clock. 

His phone buzzes again several more times in quick succession. He finally heads over and clicks his phone on to see five messages from Stephanie. 

Replacement’s replacement🤰

so u have a little sister and u never told me???

anyways shes at the big house and getting interrogated by bruce and i think hes ready to adopt her

hello

so rude

i mean it looks to me shes tellin the truth but like seems sus for obvious reasons and ur the only one that'll actually know so… hurry up??

Jason curses and rushes to grab his things before running outside and zooming to the Wayne Manor on his motorcycle. 

welp i’ll add with another part soon that i havent finished yet but anywho let me know if jason is too ooc or something😁😁

[crystalirises]

Day 4 of Funtober: Two Strangers

For day 4, it's Runaway!Fundy ---> God AU

Character: Runaway!Fundy is from an AU which is based off that one throw away line that Fundy had during the time where he pranked Pogtopia by putting buttons everywhere. At some point, he mentioned that he was going to build a cabin somewhere and live far away from all the wars and stuff. So this Fundy is from an AU where he did decide to run away, he still became a spy at some point, but he couldn't handle another day of working in the cabinet so he ran away instead. Wilbur never received the Spy Diary and a lot of people assumed that Fundy was either killed by Schlatt or ran away.

Setting: The setting takes place within a god AU which will elaborated on in the chapter with god!Fundy. Essentially though, Techno is the Blood God and Philza is an actual God of Death and not the Angel of Death.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34203535/chapters/85403293

When he’d left the cabin, he expected to find his grandson staring out into the sky again.

Yet all he saw was Techno, tilling his potato farm as he usually did in the hours before dawn. His brows furrowed together, feathers puffing up before he rushed back inside the house. He kept his steps quiet, easily muffled by the pink carpet. He paused at the door to Fundy’s room, it wasn’t open, but he couldn’t hear any noise from inside. He took a deep breath, before opening the door.

It wasn’t cold.

He took off his coat, placing it on a chair that was near the door. Phil’s wings fluttered nervously behind him, his hand itching towards the dagger that he’d hidden at his belt. There was a small lump on the bed, rising and falling with each breath that Fundy (?) took. Fundy never overslept. Sometimes, Phil wondered if his grandson ever even slept at all. He moved closer, pausing when Fundy turned over, lying on his back instead of his side. Phil took a deep breath, taking in his grandson’s new and improved look. Phil thought he’d never see Fundy look so… normal again.

Phil took in the room again, a bit of sunlight breaking through the closed glass window. Ice didn’t line the walls or the furniture, and the air felt much easier to breathe in than before. He felt a smile grow on his face, pressing a hand to his chest in prayer to the gods that Fundy had gotten better. He looked back at his grandson, nearly laughing at the tanned skin that Fundy sported instead of the previous icy pale skin that he had. His hair was back to ginger, and Phil could only assume that Fundy’s eyes were back to the warm golden-flecked brown color that they originally were. Best of all, Fundy no longer had ice growing on his skin and covering one of his eyes.

He nearly collapsed into tears. Phil laughed, loud enough that Fundy began to rouse from his sleep. He tried to keep himself quiet but he was too ecstatic. Fundy whimpered, reaching down to pull up the warm fluffy blanket, hiding his face underneath. Well, at least Fundy still kept the fox-theme, except he was no longer an arctic fox. Phil slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pet the top of Fundy’s head. It was still curly, but not as fluffy as before. Techno would be upset about that but Phil assumes he’d be mostly relieved that Fundy had shifted looks.

Phil tried to pet one of Fundy’s ears, but then a hand reached up and batted him away.

Golden-flecked brown eyes slowly opened, confusion dancing in their orbs before finally settling on Phil. Fundy blinked up at him, eyes wide with shock and confusion. He backed away, keeping his hands in front of him as a way to placate his grandson. Fundy had changed looks overnight, one wrong move and he could revert to his previous state. “You’re alright, mate. It’s just me.”

Fundy’s eyes narrowed, shoulders hunching up as a growl tore through the air. Out of instinct, his wings stretched out, nearly knocking a lamp over. Fundy flinched at the movement, whimpering before hiding back inside the blanket. He cursed underneath his breath, caressing his wings until they relaxed and settled against his back. Phil moved closer to the bed, seating on the edge but careful not to reach out until Fundy asked him to. “I know you’re scared, Fundy, but—”

“Where am I? Who are you?” His blood ran cold at the questions, but he swallowed down his worry and fear. Fundy is… was… the god of the forgotten and the cold, it wasn’t too much of a stretch for the “forgotten” to turn into the “forgetful.” Phil let out a nervous chuckle instead, moving the blanket so that he could look into his grandson’s eyes. Fundy flinched, but he didn’t try to pull the blanket back up. “Are you… Are you from the Essempy? F-from Pogtopia? Did Wilbur send you? D-did S-Schlatt? Please, I just want to go home. I don’t want to go back—”

“No, no, Fundy. You’re safe here. You’re safe, no one can hurt you here.” Phil wanted to reach out, to assure his grandson that all his fears were in the past, but he couldn’t. He settled on moving closer, his legs resting on the mattress and his wings enveloping the two of them.

Schlatt. Wilbur. The Essempy. Pogtopia. Events of the past. They no longer need to worry. Fundy flinched, but he relaxed once he realized that Phil wasn’t going to hurt him. He sighed, reaching to pet Fundy on the head. His grandson looked much better despite the clear fear that his stance was giving out. He moved slightly back, his voice muffled by the blanket, “You didn’t answer my questions. Who are you and where am I? Did… Can I please go home? I want to go home.”

“Fundy, you are home. You’re with your grandpa and your uncle. You’re confused, you’re memories all over the place, mate, but they’ll sort out after a few days.” He patted Fundy on the head, glancing over at the window. Sunlight had begun to reach the edge of the bed, illuminating the room with the glow of a new day. Phil sighed, he’d had to open the window. Fundy had always kept it closed but he might want some fresh air. “Now, I’m sure your uncle Techno’s ready to start breakfast in just a few minutes. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and greet him?”

“W-wait, but I’m not—”

“It’s alright, Fundy. Breakfast will help. Now, come on.”

---

“He’s gone from the god of the forgotten to the god of the forgetful?”

Techno glanced at his nephew who was hiding his face behind the vase that he had dragged all the way from the hallway to the dining room table. Fundy had nearly fainted when they’d bumped into each other on the way to the kitchen, screaming as if Techno had attacked him. The sudden scream had nearly caused him to drop his basket of newly harvested potatoes. They weren’t easy to harvest in the arctic, but he didn’t win the Potato Wars for nothing. He had given Phil a look as Fundy rushed to sit on one of the dining room chairs. And now here they were.

“He’s confused, Techno. He’s brought up Pogtopia and Schlatt and… Wilbur…” He winced, ears flicking down at the reminder of his long dead twin. It was still a sore subject, for all of them.

“He’s scared of me.”

“He did mention Pogtopia.” Phil smiled kindly, “Give him, Techno. He’ll… remember you.”

Techno raised a brow, glancing over at Fundy who let out a small squeak. Then again, it was a better reaction than the usual icy glare or empty gaze. He huffed, placing a hand on his hip as he ran a hand through his messy hair. He’ll miss combing his nephew’s fluffy hair. “He’s better.”

“He is.” There had been ice growing on Fundy’s skin, but now he looked far healthier than before. He moved to stand in the doorway, gazing at the changes. Fundy looked the way he did back before the Manburg-Pogtopian War, but he seemed more… innocent somehow. His nephew held his gaze for a few minutes, before finally turning down to the ground. He was shaking. Techno looked away, his observation complete. Fundy had changed back to an old form, one that held none of the bitterness or the trauma of what had happened after Doomsday. “He’s only mentioned Pogtopia and Schlatt. Do you think he doesn’t remember anything beyond that time?”

“He has an innocent look in his eyes, Phil. That isn’t the Fundy we know.” Phil’s wings fluttered, a large smile appearing on his best friend’s face. He knew how happy it would make Phil if Fundy had forgotten what had happened. While Techno believed that everyone deserved to know the truth, a selfish part of him was happy to think that Fundy had forgotten. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart, which he quickly pushed away. He didn’t want to be reminded of what his actions had led to. “He might not remember, unless he changes forms again. He’s… He’s better.”

“Why… Why am I better?” A small voice broke through their conversation, Fundy finally showing his face from behind the vase. He and Phil exchanged a look. Techno moved further into the kitchen, shaking his head. He did not do well with… personal explanations. “Why—”

“You don’t have to worry about it, mate—”

“Yes, I do! I don’t know who you are, and I don't know why Technoblade is here!”

Fundy pointed an accusatory finger at him.

He averted his gaze, attention turning towards the pile of potatoes he had to peel. Fundy hadn’t been close to him or Phil in the past centuries, but at least he’d never addressed Techno by his name. Surprisingly, Fundy had taken the habit of calling Techno “uncle” and Phil “grandpa.” It was startling to be called by his name again, but he reminded himself that this was a new Fundy.

At least… this new Fundy wouldn’t glare at Phil with disdain anymore. He picked up a potato. It dropped to the ground. Phil turned to look at the potato, which had rolled so that it had hit the back of Phil’s boot. Techno glanced at his hand, surprised to find that his fingers were shaking. He shook his head, curling his hand into fist, nails digging into his palm until his hand finally stopped trembling. Fundy hadn’t noticed, too busy staring at the walls and at this “new environment” that he’d found himself in. Techno went to pick up the potato, keeping a firm grip on it this time. He’d let Phil deal with Fundy. Techno had never been great with confrontation.

It usually got someone killed.

---

Fundy, for the first time in many months, wanted his dad or Niki or Eret or… even Tommy.

He drummed his hands on the table, careful to keep the noise down in fear of drawing either one of his captor’s attention. He’d recognized Technoblade, but he wasn’t sure about the other man. He’d claimed to be Fundy’s grandfather, and he did share some physical features with Wilbur.

But that didn’t explain why Fundy was being kept against his will in a strange house.

He thought back to what he’d done yesterday.

He’d woken up when the sun was rising, took a moment to breathe in the fresh air before beginning his day. He’d harvested the wheat, the carrots, the potatoes, and the berries that had grown during the night. Then he fed the cows, the sheep, and the pigs. Then he cleaned the house for a bit until relaxing for the whole afternoon. Then he’d gone to bed after eating his dinner.

Did they… Did they take him when he was sleeping? He shuddered at the thought of someone breaking into his cabin. He’d built it far away from any settlements, how did they even find him?

He eyed Technoblade, the piglin hybrid snorting at his glare even if his eyes expressed his discomfort. Technoblade was supposed to be on Pogtopia’s side… did that mean the war was over? Had Wilbur won? Was L’Manburg alive once more? The more he thought about it, the sadder he became. Even if Wilbur had won, he wouldn’t let Fundy back into L’Manburg again, not after what he did. Not after he’d betrayed them and ran away to avoid the consequences.

It haunted him to know that there was a chest— He was broken out of his thoughts by smoke wafting into his face. He sputtered, moving the chair away from the table. Phil had placed down a newly cooked scrambled egg with potatoes in front of him, ruffling his hair before taking a seat on the chair to Fundy’s right. Techno had sat down to his left, avoiding Fundy’s stare like it was the plague. The two of them began to eat, but Fundy couldn’t stomach anything, not when he didn’t know why he was there. He’d never met Technoblade, and the man shouldn’t have any reason to take him other than… He shuddered. “A-are you… Did Wilbur send you to kill me?”

They both exchanged a glance, Techno’s eyes wide and darting as he silently gestured for… Phil - Technoblade had called the man, Phil - to answer Fundy’s question. The avian hybrid sighed, leaning close to Fundy with a gentle smile on his face. “Fundy, I told you. You’re safe with us.”

“No. No. No. You were helping Wilbur, but now you’re here and I don’t know why you’re here but you are and…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at the table, scratching at the bottom of the wood, which went unnoticed. He’d ran off, like a coward. He couldn’t have taken another second in Schlatt’s cabinet, and he couldn’t have gone to Pogtopia, not when he’d failed his dad and disowned him for the whole world to hear. He couldn’t have gone to Wilbur, even if he had wanted to. “Wilbur… he’s m-mad at me, right? He… He sent you to kill me… right? Right?!”

“Fundy, no one is here to kill you.” Phil reached for his hand, but he flinched away. He wasn’t going to eat anything they gave him, and he wasn’t going to let them touch him either. Phil looked upset, but he backed off. “Why would you think Wilbur would want to kill you, Fundy?”

“Why wouldn’t he…?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows, giving Fundy a pointed look that made him feel all too much like a child… or a crazy person. Phil exchanged another look with Techno, the piglin hybrid shrugging. Fundy took a deep breath, pushing back his chair from the table. Maybe he could convince him that he needed to go to the bathroom to throw up or something. At this point, it was going to probably happen. He took one step before Techno stood to block his path.

“Sit down.”

His blood boiled at the command. He wasn’t a little child, even if he was 15. He steeled himself, meeting those blood red eyes that… seemed to glow even brighter… He shook his head. “I—”

He sat down… but not of his own choice.

[imagine-loki]

Hiding in Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 11

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies? 

RATING: General Audience

“Loki?” Frigga looked worriedly at her son who burst into his parents’ shared rooms. “Is everything…?”

“You conspired with that elf against me?” He snapped. 

Sighing, Frigga gave a slight wave to her maids who all left the room. “Conspired is a strong word for it,” Her voice was calm and steady as she rose from her seat. “She wrote, asking of your character and I suggested she get to know you. Tatianna needed time with family and thus, I realised she could get to meet you without you being guarded as I knew you were unsure of the situation and were not likely to open up to her.”

Loki gasped in shock. “So you planned this? You were the one to actually suggest it?” He became more hurt at that revelation. 

“You treat that maid with nothing but kindness, I thought if Raven saw that side of you also, she would see how caring you are. I knew that you would not open yourself as willingly to her otherwise.” “I…” he could not explain his anger, such was its intensity. 

“Loki, I am truly sorry for doing this, clearly, it was a mistake on my behalf. I am genuinely sorry for hurting you so, my son.” She tried to have him look at her so that he would see she was being genuine. “In turn, I also hurt Raven.” Loki scoffed at the mention of the elf. “She is a lovely woman. Bright, kind, a good partner for you but instead, it appears my little idea has hurt you both so.” “Even after what you have done to me, the two of you, you care about her?” “Loki, Raven has had a very restricted life, she only wanted to know if she would be forced to endure the same here. I know you will not believe this but she simply wishes to be happy and knowing I am integral to the suffering of more unhappiness for her is upsetting for me. It does not take for my upset at the hurt I caused you.” 

Loki scowled. Raven’s words came back to him again, of her loneliness and the life she was forced to lead thus far. He didn’t want to feel pity for her. He wanted to loathe her, something quite easy to do with her actions but it still played on his mind. Without saying another word to his mother, he turned to leave. 

“I genuinely believe that given the time, you will see you are well suited, Loki,” Frigga stated. 

“Perhaps we could have been.” Loki acknowledged. “But you scuppered our chances significantly with your idea.” With that, he left the room. 

* Raven sat in her room, the door between her bed chambers and front chambers locked and with a sofa in front of it in case any thought to try and open it. She had been ready for Loki’s ire and remarks, she had long built a thick skin being the youngest of five and with four older brothers, what she had not been ready for was her own words. The idea of sitting alone in her rooms for days on end was nothing new to her, what was new was the knowledge that it would not come to an end. Growing up, she had hoped the day would come that she would have a happier existence. Even as a Ljósáfar wife to a Ljósáfar husband, she could not possibly be forced to remain as she had been growing up. On hearing she was marrying an Aesir, she knew life would be far different and on knowing it was Prince Loki, though she knew little of his demeanour, she knew the Aesir way of life would allow her far greater freedom and she also knew him to be very intelligent, allowing her to fantasise of the many conversations and discussions they could share. The debates they could muster in private in the evenings after court was complete for the day. She had been excited about that. Even if they did not see eye to eye, she had dreamed of debate and conversation where she was not required to remain silent. Instead, now she had ruined any such an idea and would be forced to look at the walls that currently surrounded her for considerable years yet to come and that felt far more daunting than she could ever fathom. It filled her with a dread that made her feel like she would begin to hyperventilate at any moment. She felt entirely trapped. 

Questions swirled around in her mind. Would Loki take a mistress? Would he take many over the years? Would she have to endure dark-haired offspring he sired outside of wedlock to mistresses being recognised unofficially? Would she go to empty rooms every night while his were filled with love, passion and the giggles of a lover? Would she remain alone? Would people whisper how she was not a fit spouse? That she was not up to the task of securing the line of her husband. Or, just as heart-wrenching, would she be forgotten about, again. Only recognised and remembered when she stood in the shadow of the important male she was tied to. 

Thoughts of her perhaps finding love, feeling unconditional love could not come to her, after all, such was preposterous to her current state. She remembered the affections she felt before with Lord Arden. The stolen kisses, the sneaking around and indeed, the illicit actions of it. When it was made clear that she was to wed Loki, he left immediately with no thorough explanation. She always wondered if it was because it hurt too much to see her being wed elsewhere and he wanted a clean break, or after a while, she suspected it was because he realised he would not achieve his goal of a respectable dowry from her and decided to try other women. She was unsure if she had come to that second conclusion in her own mind to placate her feelings or not but that was going to be her excuse to make her feel better, factual or otherwise. 

Curled up with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around them, she did nothing but think sadly of the situation at hand. 

* “You insulted the Ljósáfar.” 

Thor had Mjolnir ready for what was to come and chuckled to himself as he deflected several knives that Loki tossed his way. 

“You’re never able to aim properly when you are overly angered.” “You said nothing.” Loki’s voice was barely over a hiss. “I was sworn to secrecy.” “By someone you don’t even know?” “By our mother, a being I know even longer than you do,” Thor stated, avoided a blast of magic by using Mjolnir’s own version of such. “Raven only agreed because she wanted to get to know you.” “And that was how she decided to do so?” Loki spat. “Not by engaging me in any manner that would signify any attempt of an honest and healthy introduction?” “Since you failed to answer her three written attempts at such, I cannot imagine she felt she had many other options.”

Loki froze. “What?” “Raven wrote to you. On three separate occasions, and you ignored all three.” 

“No, she did not.” Loki shook his head. “Indeed, she did.” Thor reiterated. “This was confirmed, not only by her but when I asked the Postmaster, he confirmed it. I asked him so I could confirm it because you are not one to ignore a letter and I suspected you would call her a liar to save yourself. Three separate letters, dated months apart so to allow for time to receive and reply should you be otherwise busy, giving you time to do so. All three remained unanswered.” “I received no such letters,” Loki repeated. 

“Well, three were sent from Alfheim, sorted by the Postmaster himself and delivered to your rooms,” Thor informed him. “She tried before now. It is why she had to try and find reports on your personality elsewhere.” Thor slapped his shoulder. “I wanted to warn you. Well, I mostly wanted to warn you. Part of me also wanted to see the look of shock on your face when you realised who she was. That was until I realised what you were saying about her. I told you many times, Loki, this is very hard on her.” 

Loki had been bothered by the supposed letters he had not received until Thor mentioned Raven’s ‘struggle’. “Norns, if I have to hear this again.” He threw his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “Poor Raven, how lonely she has had it. How she had to remain seen and never heard. The Elf I have borne witness to is no such shrinking violet. She literally feels like she has to have the last word, come Helfheim or high water.” 

“Because that is who she is. She feels here like she does not have to be a statue any longer.” Thor argued. “Do not lie for one second and tell me that you want a silent and boring wife because you and I both know you rather lose your life than being forced to wed someone without their tongue. How else could you ever have someone at your beck and call to argue with day and night? I would have thought an opinionated and in your belief, an argumentative wife would have suited you to the ground. I doubt you want a wife that would agree with everything you say without question. Where would be the fun in that?” 

Loki could not argue that point. Nothing would disgust him more. “That does not negate her actions.” 

“She felt she had no choice. Was it something I would suggest? No, but it was for a good reason. She just wanted a good partner.” 

Loki scowled. “And in doing so, ensured she would not get one.” 

“Loki, please. This is going ahead whether or not you are happy about it, so you have two choices, be angry with her for this, accept any and all apologies, learn about her and try and form a healthy and fulfilling marriage with her or continue this animosity and live an unfulfilled marriage. I will soon have to court my betrothed and if the options of both were on the table, I know I would not wish to remain arguing.” “She already made it clear, the hope is to perform some sacred ritual, ensure you and your wife spawn multiple times and stay as far away from me as is physically possible.” 

“Loki, the woman I have spoken to multiple times wants entirely the opposite of that and I know you don’t want to believe it but to her, coming here, having a husband such as you was something she wanted. Sadly, things have gone slightly awry.” Loki began to scoff at his words before pausing. “When has all this conversing been taking place?” “Through her stay here.” Thor kept his answers broad so as to not have Loki sense any dishonesty. 

Loki studied his brother closer. “Like when?” “Do you honestly think I can recall days and times off the top of my head?”

“Do you know where in the palace she is?” Thor tried to think of something to say to argue that but silence or a no would immediately be sensed as a lie. “Why?” “I deserve to know, as her betrothed, surely?” “Not if you are going to add to her loneliness with it.” “Loneli…If I wanted to add to her loneliness, the last thing I would do is ask where to find her, Thor.” Loki scoffed. “Where is she?”

“I am not going to tell you if you are going to use it to add to this farce.” Thor’s declared. 

Loki knew he was telling the truth, much to his own annoyance. “Then leave.” “This is the royal hallway, I don’t have to leave. I live here, same as you.” Thor reminded him. “In your time speaking with Raven, what have you learnt of her?” “That she’s a conniving wench.” 

“No, Loki. In all seriousness, what have you learnt of her? What did it reveal of her knowledge of you?”

“Nothing, she knows nothing of me. Made clear by how she thought to get to know me.” He snapped. “Her way of speaking to me was not to introduce herself but to act like a maid, to scrub toilets and rummage through my belongings. That’s how little she thinks of me.” Loki paused. He had not thought of that previously. She had been privy to all of his belongings. Letters of private matters, items of personal value that he would not have wanted her to see. It annoyed him greatly that she had touched and rummaged through such things.

Seeing his brother getting irritated, Thor decided to alter his train of thought before he focused too greatly on what was annoying him. “So in that time, she got nothing right about your personality? I refuse to believe that because when I discussed the issue with her, I think she got your personality to perfection. The anger, the silent treatment, she even apologised to me for the aggression you would show me, both physical and otherwise.” “That, she did ascertain correctly. That is hardly surprising as it would be considered a normal reaction by most.” Loki dismissed. “I will not repeat myself, where is she?” “You’re repeating yourself saying that to me again.” Thor pointed out. “Until you are willing to speak with her like an adult, I will not tell you.” “You owe me.” “You owe her, considering you never even wrote back when she tried to engage you herself.” Loki said nothing as Thor walked off, leaving him to his thoughts. He walked back to his room and looked at the platter his letters always were placed when delivered to him. There were three there at that time. He walked over and looked around, noting there was nowhere any letter could have fallen for him to not have seen it. 

The Aesir Postmaster was a man of set ways. He was practically devout in how he viewed his role. If a letter went missing in his office, Norns have mercy on the being that moved it. He took the role as seriously as Odin took the role of Allfather. If he genuinely told Thor that there had been three letters from the Ljósáfar palace for him, then there had been. So where were they?

[bl1ndbraavosi]

5. "Wait a minute... are you jealous?"

KakaSaku or SaiSaku?

kakasaku OR saisaku??? orrrr both???? let’s do both

-

It had started innocently enough. Sakura and the girls were enjoying a nice soak in the baths, chatting and catching up, spilling the newest, hottest gossip and sharing general life updates. When Tenten shared a particularly juicy exploit, Ino’s spirit had been so overwhelmed with titillating scandal that she simply could not remain submerged any longer.

That’s when Sakura saw the sunflower scrawled across her skin, curving around her breast, dainty and yellow and so cute, and so not something that was there the last time Sakura saw Ino naked. It was a more frequent occurrence than she cared to admit.

“What the hell is that?!” she demanded, grabbing Ino by the arm and ogling her side-boob shamelessly.

“Geez, Forehead, grope much?” Ino complained, pulling her arm out of Sakura’s death grip. “It’s just a tattoo,” she said, scowling at Sakura.

“When—how—why?” Sakura stuttered, lifting Ino’s arm again to get a good look. At Sakura’s flailing, all the girls grew interested, approaching Ino to get a peek themselves. Ino rolled her eyes but Sakura knew she enjoyed the attention.

“Sai did it for me,” she said with a smile. “Look!” she held her arm up of her own volition and then Sakura watched as chakra flowed through the lines in her skin before the sunflower petals started languidly spinning, and the flower tilted gently from side-to-side as if it were searching for the sun.

“So cute!” Hinata cooed, sticking her face in Ino’s armpit to get a closer look.

“I want one!” Tenten whined, sticking her face beside Hinata’s, and leaving Sakura standing off to the side fuming.

It wasn’t so much that Ino had gotten a little, permanent piece of art from Sai on her body, but that she hadn’t even known Sai could do that. And why hadn’t he offered that to her? He was always giving her his sketches and paintings, and she was always happy to receive them.

It was just a stupid little flower, she told herself. Did she even want a tattoo? She had her Byakugou seal, and her ANBU tattoo, but was she even interested in having something else on her body? She told herself that if she had never considered it before, then the answer must be no. Placated, she finally dropped her attitude toward Ino. Even if it had taken her about a week to come to that conclusion.

So, attitude dropped, she carried on with her life. That was, until she was sparring with Naruto under the summer heat, and she saw what he was sporting on his bare chest.

“What is that?!” she demanded, jabbing her finger into his sweaty skin hard enough to make him yelp.

“Ow, Sakura-chan!” he whined loudly, recoiling from her finger. She glared at him without an ounce of remorse. “It’s a fox,” he said with a pout, rubbing at the offending inked skin. She could see it was a fox; fierce and baring its teeth and snarling across his right peck.

“Did Sai do that?” she asked, though it was a rhetorical question. Naruto looked scared to answer, but the longer she glared at him the more nervous he became. He had apparently decided he was in more trouble if he remained silent, which was definitely a new one for him.

“Yeah…” he said timidly before a grin broke out on his face. “Look!” His chest puffed up with pride and then chakra flowed through the ink before the fox on his chest was snapping its jaw and baring its claws. Sakura growled with the ferocity of the fox as she stalked away from him and their spar. “Sakura-chan! Wait for me!” he wailed.

She did not.

Sakura could maybe believe that Sai had been seduced into decorating Ino with a tiny flower and had not seen fit to tell her about it. But Naruto? Why would Naruto get something so personal and special, but not her? They were all on the same team, and she thought she and Sai were friends. She certainly spent enough time explaining the intricacies of friendship to him for the title to be warranted, she thought.

She decided to address the problem at the root, and just ask Sai what was going on. Maybe he’d be waiting for her with his brushes out, and some extravagant design planned out for her. Maybe he had been using Naruto and Ino as practice to make sure he got hers right.

What she found when she let herself into his apartment was absolutely not that.

“What is this?!” she cried, pointing in accusation as Sai held a paintbrush to Sasuke’s skin, intently focused on the black lines that curved around Sasuke’s arm from his wrist and all the way up his shoulder toward his neck.

“A snake,” Sasuke answered coolly, casting a bored glace her way before returning his gaze to Sai’s work.

“I can see that,” she growled. “Why is everyone getting tattoos but me?” she whined, feeling a little bratty as she did it, but too far gone to stop herself. “Sai!” she cried when neither man answered her. Sai sighed and bowed his head, finishing off a line before raising his eyes to her at last.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, considering her closely. “Are you jealous, Sakura?” he asked, his mouth downturned in a confused frown.

“No,” she said, even though she was absolutely, undeniably teeming with jealousy.

“This seems like jealousy. I’ve read about that one a lot,” he said conversationally before returning to the snake wrapped around Sasuke’s arm.

“I’m not jealous!” she snapped. Sasuke scoffed and Sai hummed thoughtfully as all his attention was sapped away from her and into his work. She silently sat herself into a chair across from them and seethed as quietly as possible just to prove how not jealous she was, not that either of them really cared.

The longer she sat there staring, the more she had to grudgingly admire the elegant lines that travelled up Sasuke’s arm. Smooth and rounded, a perfect juxtaposition against the sinewy muscles they travelled, and stark black against Sasuke’s fair skin. Goddammit, it’s beautiful, she thought as she slipped further into her envy.

Sai seemed to finish it off pretty quickly, not that she really knew how long it took, because she had been completely enraptured with the process. Before she knew it, the snake’s head was drawn, its teeth bared and reaching for Sasuke’s neck. Then, Sai formed the seals with his hands and pressed his chakra into the ink, and Sakura watched as it settled into Sasuke’s skin instead of sitting on top of it, and then finally, as the snake started writhing, slithering across Sasuke’s chest, around his neck, down his arm and then back up it again to settle in its original position.

Sai looked very pleased with himself, and Sasuke looked about as pleased as he ever looked, and the only person in the room who wasn’t being the least bit pleasant was Sakura. All the pretty drawings in the world could not wipe the scowl off her face.

“Still jealous?” Sai asked innocently enough, though all it did was enrage her further.

“Why did you do one for Naruto, and Sasuke, and Ino, but not me?” she asked, feeling like a petulant child as she stomped her foot and pouted.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” he said with a calm smile and a small shrug.

“I’m interested!” she cried. “I would have liked the option, at least! I thought we were friends,” she said, her pout deepening as Sai met her ire with an innocent cluelessness.

“We are,” he said with another sweet smile. She wanted to thump him over the head.

“Then why didn’t you offer to do me!” she complained.

“Sakura,” Sasuke intervened, sounding beyond exhausted with her. She turned her pout to him instead. “You are a control freak,” he stated simply and she balked.

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are,” Sai said happily as he packed away his ink and brushes.

“I—I can let go! I can be out of control!”

“The only thing out of control right now is how jealous you are,” Sasuke said as he shrugged into his shirt.

“I knew she was jealous,” Sai said with a joyous smile and creased eyes, and gods, she wanted to thump him.

“I am not jealous! I am not a control freak! And I want a tattoo!” she demanded.

“This is your problem,” Sasuke said with a sigh before he headed out, leaving Sai alone with Sakura and her wrath.

“I want a tattoo,” she reiterated, putting ample effort into sounding calmer than she felt. Sai shrugged.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Lie down,” he said, unfurling his brush set and waiting patiently for her to sprawl herself onto his couch.

“But…but what are you doing to do?” she asked remaining frozen where she stood. His head tilted as he considered her.

“I have a very specific image in mind. No one else was concerned, they just let me do it,” he said with another small shrug.

“You…you didn’t ask them? Or…what if I don’t like it? What if it’s not what I want? What if—”

“This is why I did not ask you,” he said with a smile that conveyed his understanding, but deeply grated on her nerves. Out of spite for that understanding smile and Sasuke’s snarky voice echoing in her mind, calling her a control freak, she stomped over to the couch and flung herself down onto it, glaring up at Sai.

“Do whatever you want,” she said with conviction, even though she was feeling anything but settled in this decision. Sai’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before he settled into another happy smile.

“Please do not try to hit me,” he said softly before he pushed her so she was lying on her side and then curled his fingers into her shorts to push them down over her hip. She fought the urge to reach down and whack him into next week, instead settling for an indignant yelp.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’m going to put it on your hip,” he said, fixing her with another peaceful smile. “You said I could do whatever I want,” he reminded her gently. She swallowed her pride and her shouts of protest and resigned herself to lying in silence, enduring the strange breeze on her butt and Sai’s cool fingers on her skin. She gasped a little when she felt the cold, wet ink hit her skin.

Too late to turn back now, she thought as she forced herself to relax into the couch while Sai worked diligently over her skin. She found that it wasn’t all that unpleasant, even though sometimes she could feel his breath blow across her hip, providing a jarring reminder that she was damn near naked from the waist down.

She didn’t even try to sneak a peek at what he was doing. She was too nervous, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know.

“Why my hip?” she asked eventually, because it seemed like a safe question.

“You have nice hips and thighs,” he answered simply. She felt her face flush and she settled into the couch a little easier. It seemed Sai had given this some real thought, at least. Even if he hadn’t told her about it, she felt placated that he had thought about her and what she might like. Placated enough that she almost felt like she shouldn’t have gone through with this.

But her pride was on the line. No way was she going to let Sasuke run around this village pretending like he had her pegged. Haruno Sakura was not a control freak. Even though she had been prompted into doing something very unlike herself just to maintain control over her self-image…

She would dissect that later. Right now, there was ink sprawling across her hip, from the top of her thigh, curling around just slightly to her butt and up toward her waist. Gods, whatever it was, she hoped she could live with it. She could probably skin-graft herself using medical ninjutsu, she told herself. More than anything, she just wanted to shove this in Sasuke’s smug face.

Ino’s sexy sunflower would be nothing compared to this, she told herself. Assuming she liked it, that was; and assuming she wouldn’t have to regenerate a huge bit of her skin in the event that she couldn’t stand the sight of her own body.

“Done,” Sai said happily. “Do you want to see before I seal it?” he asked, smiling at her over her hip. Yes, she thought. Yes, get this off of me right now.

“No, I trust you,” her stupid, stubborn mouth said instead. With a small shrug, Sai made the hand seals and pressed his chakra into her skin. She stayed put for a while longer, waiting for something to happen. The only thing that happened was Sai moving away from her to pack up his supplies.

Finally, after lying there with her ass out for a little too long, Sakura sat up and pulled her shorts up.

“Don’t you want to look?” he asked as she stood and readied herself to leave. Was it rude if she just ran home and lamented for a while? Like a day? Or five days?

“Oh—um, right. Yes, of course,” she said before shuffling toward his bathroom to peer at herself in the full-length mirror. She closed the door behind her, just in case she had a bad reaction. She didn’t want Sai to feel bad. She stared up at the fan on the ceiling, willing herself to look. Her eyes refused to obey.

Pull your pants down and look, dammit.

She exhaled sharply and forced her gaze onto her reflection. The piece was big enough that it was poking out under the hem of her shorts an even over the waistband, and gods, what had she been thinking? But from the small glimpses around her shorts she could see an interesting mix of colour, not at all the stark black ink she had seen on Naruto and Sasuke.

Curious, she eased her shorts down over her hips to stare at the piece. It was all soft lines and colour; pinks and whites and greens, spread across her. A big branch of cherry blossoms growing delicately across her skin, small blue and white slugs dancing in the branches between the blossoms, and when she activated the chakra, the petals fell and fluttered, and bloomed again, while the slugs languidly slithered about.

She stormed out of the bathroom with her shorts still bunched around her knees and hugged Sai tight around his neck.

-

As pleasantly surprised as she was by the tattoo, it took some getting used to. She found herself shuffling around people, hiding her right hip from them, unsure how to explain the large piece of art that had appeared on her skin. All her bravado at rubbing it in Ino’s face had dried up pretty quickly.

She found that she was staring at herself a little longer in the mirror as she looked at it. She wondered how Sai had planned it so it perfect curved with her body. So the colours perfectly blended into her, and complimented her. It looked like it belonged there. She found herself less willing to share it when she came to that realization.

Oh, well, she thought. At least it seemed less petty this way. There was just one person that she really wanted to show now…

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Kakashi asked as she waltzed into his office and perched herself on his desk.

“Because I just single-handedly, successfully performed a craniotomy,” she said with a bright smile.

“Haven’t you done that before?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t hurt to remind you how awesome I am,” she said, swinging her legs and smiling down at him until he paid her her due attention, instead of frowning down at the paperwork she was half-sitting on. He sighed as he looked at a document that was lodged under her thigh.

“You’re sitting on my—what is that?” his eyes were glued to her thigh. She’d been careful to wear shorts long enough to cover her new tattoo, but it seemed that in hopping on his desk, she had also hiked her shorts up a little too high.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, pulling the hem down to cover herself, but he swatted her hand away and tentatively peeled back the fabric to look at the bit of ink poking out.

“That’s a tattoo,” he said before raising his eyes to her. “You got a tattoo?”

“Well…I didn’t really get a tattoo as much as I let Sai paint on me,” she said, shrugging and wriggling uncomfortably under his stare.

“It’s permanent?” he asked, his eyes sliding back down to her thigh after she’d nodded. “Can I see it?” he asked so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, her cheeks blazing. His fingers were playing at the hem of her shorts, reminding her of the last time those fingers had played near her.

“Show me,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looping his hands under her knees to tug her off his desk.

“I’m not pulling my shorts down in the middle of your office,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn, and knowing that he was smirking under his mask, as if telling her that it wouldn’t be the first time. “Fine, just a quick look,” she relented, furtively checking over her shoulder to make sure the door was closed and no one was peeking in before tugging down one side of her shorts to bare her hip to Kakashi.

His hand immediately moved to cradle her hip, his fingers ghosting ever so softly over her skin as he drank her in.

“Very nice,” he breathed out, eyes glinting mischievously when he felt her shudder at the feeling of his breath blowing over her.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling a little breathless. He hummed lowly, his dark eyes shamelessly taking in the curve of her hip and the pink flowers that adorned it. She activated the chakra and smiled to herself as he watched the fluttering petals and slinking slugs move along her skin.

“Sai did this?” he asked, sounding suspiciously curious as he ran his fingers from the top of her hip, back around to the curve of her backside and then down to where the piece tapered off at her thigh. “He certainly got an eyeful,” he mumbled as he laid his hand flush against her.

“It’s just Sai…” she said, staring down at him, completely puzzled. He hummed vaguely before gently pulling her shorts back into place with a small kiss to her hip through his mask, making her shiver under his hands. “Kakashi…”

“Shall we?” he asked abruptly, eyes creased happily as he stood from his desk to lead her out of his office. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he circled his desk and headed for the door.

“Wait…” she said, watching his back as he feigned nonchalance. She had known him long enough, and certainly knew him well enough to know when he was faking it. He turned to face her, his crinkly-eyed smile still in effect.  “…Are you jealous?”

If he was jealous, he certainly didn’t admit it. Those shorts never did make it out of his office, though.

[ardett]

White Monsters and White Claws

New Karlnap fic dropping!

Description: Karl drinks energy drinks. So does Sapnap (but only when Karl does).

or somehow the feeling of having an energy drink is like the feeling of meeting someone for the first time is like the feeling of having a crush

Current word count: 2251

Of course you can always check it out on Ao3!

Sapnap knows he’s being too quiet when he visits Karl. 

It starts at the airport. He texts Karl as he’s walking outside but when he looks up, glimpsing the North Carolina landscape properly for the first time, Karl is already rushing towards him.

Karl practically tackles him, yelling his name. Sapnap fumbles with his suitcase handle. Eventually he ends up dropping it in favor of bringing a hand up to the small of Karl’s back. He curls his fingers into the back of Karl’s sweater, too gently for Karl to even feel it.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Karl whispers, absolutely giddy.

Words suddenly escape Sapnap. He just nods into Karl’s shoulder. A bubble forms in his chest, iridescent and buoyant. He can’t quite describe the feeling but it’s something excited and soft and nervous.

Fragile.

Karl makes him feel so fragile.

“Okay, let me get you to my house. I’m sure you’re tired.” Karl grins at him, bright and blinding. Sapnap opens his mouth to respond but only manages an affirmative hum, barely a sound at all.

He grabs his suitcase and lets Karl drag him along with a hand on the sleeve of his hoodie. It’s not holding hands but it’s close.

His mouth tastes like soap. The bubble grows.

Sapnap does manage a few words during the ride. Thankfully Karl does most of the talking, jumping from general excitement that Sapnap is there to their schedule for filming to what he wants them to do while streaming. It’s overwhelming but only in the best way.

Maybe this is a bad thing but Karl makes Sapnap feel young.

There’s only a couple years between them but it’s less the years and more the experience. Karl may be a college drop out but Sapnap’s never left home, not until he moved in with Dream, and he knows it’s not the same. It’s not the awkward trying-to-find-friends freshman year and the deafening frat parties and the shared study sessions in the library while the sun rises. Half of what would have been his college experience was spent in a pandemic anyway. Obviously things have changed in the last year with the radiating effect of Dream’s success but in so many ways, he still feels like he’s the same person he was in high school. Karl, on the other, seems fully realized in a way Sapnap never could.

All those things and the cans of White Claw Sapnap finds in the fridge next to Karl’s Monster energy drinks do nothing to help his anxiety. That’s the other difference between 20 and 22, isn't it?

Sapnap knows Karl just wants him here to film and have fun. There’s not a lot of expectations except a couple of streams Karl wants to do and even those are still a bit up in the air. But those aren’t the expectations Sapnap is worried about.

Maybe he’s setting himself up for failure by worrying about this, by putting so much pressure on it, but it’s the first time they’re ever meeting in person. Does their friendship change? Does it stay the same? Can it?

Sapnap’s pretty sure it can’t, is the thing, as much as he wants it to be exactly the same. It’s not even Karl’s fault. It’s undeniably Sapnap’s and his sudden inability to properly form words. Sapnap and the stupid fragile bubble pressing against his lungs.

(It’s a secret, isn’t it? The bubble is a secret.)

There’s a tap on the already open door. “Hey, you done unpacking yet?” Sapnap glances up to where Karl is waiting. Both their gazes trail down to Sapnap’s still zipped suitcase.

The corner of Karl’s mouth tips up at the corner, teasing. “Dude, you’ve been in here for like 30 minutes. You’re not even on your phone.”

Sapnap stands.“Shut up. I’m just gonna live out of my suitcase anyway,” he mumbles.

“Okay, okay.” Karl holds up his hands, taking a step back. “Come down then. I’m gonna order some dinner and then we can stream, yeah?” He turns on his heel and heads down the stairs, not waiting for Sapnap.

Not that it matters. They both know Sapnap will follow.

-

Sapnap lets Karl order them delivery. He tries to offer to pay but Karl refuses to take it, “I have a real job, man. Save it for college.”

“It’s community college. It’s not that much,” Sapnap protests.

“Still though. I spent all that money on college and didn’t even graduate. You are gonna graduate, right?”

“That’s the plan.” Sapnap scratches at the table top. It’s not even the flimsy portable kind of table that he and Dream still have, despite living in their rental house for a couple months now. It’s a real wooden table.

There’s something so permanent about Karl’s life. 

His photos on the walls are in frames, not hung up by bits of tape or command strips. He has enough bowls and plates for guests. All his kitchen chairs match.

It makes Sapnap feel like a fraud.

What does he know, after all? He’s so new to all of this. He never even seriously thought about a career in streaming or YouTube but suddenly it became a reality before he could even process it. He was invited here because he was supposed to add something of value to these videos but it seems that everything that fell into his lap was partially by luck.

And he thinks about how hard it is to say a single word to Karl and wonders if he’s worth this. If he’s ready for this.

But those are two different questions, aren’t they?

Even if he is worth it, even if he deserves this, he knows he’s not ready. He just knows it. Dream wanted this so badly, to have a career in content creation, worked so hard for it, and then dragged them all along in his wake. 

And Sapnap is grateful for that, so so grateful, but now he’s here in fucking North Carolina without Dream or George or his parents or anyone he knows except Karl who’s older than him and can drink and has a real job and doesn’t need to ask his parents permission to go to another state and god—

He doesn’t even know what he is to Karl.

Are they friends? Are they pretend lovers? Are they even acquaintances? 

Sapnap’s no stranger to internet friends but he knew Dream before he knew the name of his first crush. He hasn’t even known Karl for a year. He doesn’t deny that what he feels is… intense but it feels like it shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t it take longer to feel like this? For someone to make you feel this lost?

Sapnap can’t help the rush of relief when food arrives and he can substitute eating for talking.

“Alright, you good to stream soon?” Karl asks, gathering up the trash on the table to throw away.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Sapnap clears his throat. “What… What are we doing again?”

“Eh, I figured we would just go on SMP for a bit. This is just the first stream, so I don’t have a real plan yet.” Sapnap watches Karl mill around the kitchen. 

Sapnap checks his phone, seeing a message from Dream.

Dream: excited to see you guys stream soon don’t forget to have fun with your mans :)

Sapnap swallows. His hand curls into a fist on the table. The food they just ate curdles in his stomach.

Why is it so different with Karl than with Dream? Sapnap doesn’t remember feeling like this when he met Dream. It was an exciting moment of course but they settled into a rhythm so much easier than he can find one here.

But maybe the sick feeling is also because he feels like Dream is teasing him.

Dream loves to joke that Sapnap is engaged to Karl. And it’s all fun and games until Sapnap sees all the rings that Karl wears in person and he feels like… like… he almost wants a matching set.

He just wants them to be close. In whatever way he can get. It’s a desperate kind of want and need.

It’s not like he really wants to be engaged to Karl in real life but the thought of a physical token to remind him that Karl cares, Karl values him, this isn’t just a weird fling that Karl couldn’t avoid, it sounds so comforting. He wants to know Karl. He wants Karl to know him. He wants to understand what it means to be close with Karl.

It’s like missing Karl even though he’s right here.

He’s right here.

He’s right here.

He’s—

“Sapnap? Come on, I’m gonna leave you behind if you don’t hurry,” Karl giggles.

Sapnap hurries.

-

It feels like they’ve only been streaming for a few minutes when Karl is already getting up again.

“I’m gonna grab a Monster cause my head hurts.” Karl sends a light grin Sapnap’s way. It makes him feel a little less abandoned.

Sapnap’s fiddles with Karl’s game settings while the other is gone, staying a little too quiet for being live but not quite knowing what else to say.

He startles as his phone rings, flipping it over to see Dream is calling him.

“I’m live, I’m live,” he says into the mic as he picks up the call.

“Yeah, I know, dude.” He can practically hear Dream’s smirk through the phone. “Don’t put me on speaker yet though. What are you even doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” Sapnap squirms and after a second, he mutes himself to the stream. He glances at the door. Karl still isn’t back.

“Come on, you’re like, so timid. Karl’s a nice guy. I don’t even know why you’ve been so nervous.”

“Shut up,” Sapnap hisses. The bubble in his chest aches. He hates feeling so out of his depth. He’s painfully aware of the camera trained on his face. “You know why. Besides I’m not—”

“You totally are,” Dream laughs before his voice sobers just a bit. “He’s not being mean to you or something, is he? I mean, not mean mean but you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to for those Mr. Beast videos or whatever, right?”

“I know, Dream, relax. Honestly, it’s been fine.” Sapnap hunches in on himself a bit, curls around his phone and the sound of Dream’s voice.

“Okay, okay,” Dream placates. “I know you’re fine and I shouldn’t worry. So what have you been up to then?”

“You know I’m actually streaming right now, right?” Sapnap smiles. His eyes flick back to the screen, to the chat racing along the side asking what he’s saying.

“Sure, you just want to ditch me, I get it,” Dream teases.

“I don’t—” Sapnap snickers. Then he pauses. “He has a real wooden table,” he says suddenly before immediately flushing. He can feel it on his cheeks, see it on the monitor, the bit of red dotting the high parts of his cheeks.

“What?”

“Um—” Sapnap stumbles over his words. “I don’t know why I said—”

“Hey, I’m back!” Karl calls, throwing the door open. Sapnap’s eyes dart over to him.

“Bye, Dream,” Sapnap rushes, hanging up the call before Dream can say another word.

Karl taps his Monster down on the table, slipping over to the other side of Sapnap. “Was that Dream?”

“Mm,” Sapnap hums. He grabs the drink automatically, joking, “Thank you for the drink.”

“Oh, you want it?”

Words fail Sapnap (again, he can’t keep doing this) so he just nods instead even though he never has energy drinks, he doesn’t even like coffee, caffeine has always done weird things to him, but now he’s dug himself into an even deeper hole.

“I’ll grab another one. You can have that one.”

And then Karl’s gone again.

Sapnap’s phone dings. 

Dream: U r such an idiot

Sapnap scowls and rips the tab off the Monster. He downs half of it before Karl is even back.

And he regrets it as soon as Karl walks into the room again.

The caffeine hits him immediately. It sends his heart fluttering, pushes his words up his throat, starts his hands twitching.

Everything becomes ten times harder than it already was because god, every single emotion that made his heart beat before is now making his heart pound.

It’s absolutely impossible to ignore, especially when Karl collapses against Sapnap laughing at a funny thing on the screen. He feels the way Karl shakes against him, the way he buries his face in Sapnap’s shoulder and curls a hand around his bicep. His own heartbeat is deafening in his ears, a frantic escalating drumbeat.

“I can feel your heart beating,” Karl murmurs, too low for the mic to pick up. “Relax. You don’t like the facecam?”

Sapnap shakes his head almost imperceptibly. 

Karl’s face tilts towards him. “Something else?” he asks.

“Um,” Sapnap’s hand tightens on the mouse. He clicks something he didn’t mean to. “Let’s not worry about it now.”

“Sorry,” Karl apologizes, pushing himself off Sapnap. 

Sapnap is sure that Karl misinterpreted what he meant. He’s sure Karl thinks that Sapnap wasn’t comfortable with how close they suddenly got, but maybe he wasn’t. It’s hard to know with Karl. Nothing’s comfortable but it’s more about boundaries being pushed rather than boundaries being crossed. 

And Sapnap knows that some of those boundaries are there because of fear.

Either way, the energy drink isn’t helping.

Part 1/3, next chapters coming soon!

[s-creations]

The Caring from Others

Gyro has never been good with emotions or understanding people. His younger years not helpful in those categories as he grew up. Good thing life wasn't ready to let him throw in the towel just yet.

Fandom: Ducktales ‘17         Rating: General Audience         Relationships/Pairings: Gyro Gearloose/Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, Fenro       Warnings/Tags: Other characters are mentioned, How do emotions work? We’re learning today!, A little OOC.

The Father

Gyro doesn’t recall his childhood fondly.

Growing up in a small, back water farming town. A place where advancements, anything ‘new’, was labeled as dangerous. Deemed bad for everyone involved. His parents were less than thrilled when Gyro announced he wanted to become a scientist.

It wasn’t ‘honest work’.

A profession of false tests to make the common folk fearful of everything.

To make them more dependent on the government.

Even if Gyro suggested creating improved tools. Better way to help the farmers in making their jobs easier. Even safer. Every suggestion was just shot down. His parents claimed if their way had worked so well for so long, why change anything?

For 15 year Gyro had to work in secrecy. Knowing if any glimmer of creativity was found, it would be destroyed. Stomped out before it could reach their full potential. Salvation came when, after turning in so many applications, he was accepted into a high level university. Full scholarship and all. Everything was paid for, there was nothing to worry about.

Gyro should have felt some sting when his parents put up no fuss as he left. Happily letting their misfit son go off on his own journey. But Gyro honestly felt nothing but relief as he left that farmhouse behind for good.

While he now had the freedom to create in the open, university had its own issues to contend with. Like being mocked by his peers. Gyro was young and already set up with terrible social skills. It wasn’t better when fellow students deemed it a high priority to ostracize the chicken.  The other students weren’t thrilled that someone younger than them had accomplished so much in their early years. The chicken’s ideas being scoffed at when he presented or attempted to make some connection. Gyro was sure he would have dropped out long ago if not for the continuous support and offered safety from his professors.

It was during Gyro’s last year of university that he was introduced to Dr. Akita. Properly introduced anyway. Gyro was well aware of the other long before this meeting. Having studied the scientist’s work extensively. It was almost like a dream come true when Gyro was offered an internship. A way to work with his idol directly.

How quickly it all turned into a nightmare.

2-BO was Gyro’s biggest accomplishment and regret. The chicken labeled as a mad scientist and abandoned by Akita when the chicken’s creation went rogue. Gyro was thrusted into a world he had no idea how to traverse. He was turned away from every opportunity. All knowing his history, fearful of what damage he was still capable of.

Gyro couldn’t blame them for being so concerned. He was honestly fearful of his own inventions at this point.

It was a surprise when Scrooge McDuck of all people reached out to him. Wanting Gyro to present his ideas to the billionaire and his board members. It was a mounting pile of nerves that was continuously being added to as the day drew closer. The chicken was honestly shocked that he didn’t pass out while presenting. Or from the unnerving quiet when Gyro finished. The buzzards looked unimpressed. Which did not help Gyro’s as yellow eyes stared him down.

“Mr. McDuck, this was a complete waste of time,” the buzzard from the middle spoke, “We are not in need of new hires for the production line. Especially not one with such a...dangerous past.”

Gyro swallowed weakly.

“Nonsense. Who ever said about having Dr. Gearloose here to be part of our regular R&D team.” Scrooge commented casually. He stood from his large, cushioned chair. Making his way over to the quietly panicking scientist. “I’ve been in the market for a personal inventor for awhile now.”

“Please do not tell me this is for your wild excursions sir.”

“Bradford, you’re too worried about keeping finances. Personal and monetary gain cannot be achieved at the same time. I have enough monetary value...for the moment. Now is the time for personal gain.”

“If you are so determined to do this. Could you at least get someone less dangerous.”

Scrooge slammed his cane down. Causing all in the room to flinch.  “How can we expect growth if we cling to the past. Dr. Gearloose cannot be given redemption with no opportunity. I’ve seen his work. Both the bad and the good. I want him working with me.”

“Then I request a trial period. I would like to see a working, safe invention from the doctor here. If he does that, I won’t bring this up again.”

With a smirk, Scrooge gave a nod before facing Gyro. Who’d been honestly confused through the entire ordeal. Who just argues so freely with their boss?

“What do you say Dr. Gearloose? Think you’re up for the task?”

Steeling himself, Gyro gave a short nod. “Yes. Absolutely.”

He could do this. He knew he could. How many ideas had he sketched out when he was younger? Surely there were a number of inventions he could use to impress the board.

The good news was he was right. He was able to dig up multiple sketchbooks he had filled out from his college days that had yet to be used. Now came the trying task of deciding which invention he was going to use. One that was impressive enough to blow those buzzards away. But he could easily make it within the offered window of time. And that it was safe.

He wished Mr. McDuck would have been more forward with what he was looking for. The chicken would at least have a starting point.

Gyro really thought he had a winner when the month was up. More than a little confident when he entered the boardroom, all eyes on him. Giving his presentation with as much vibrato as he could. It was all going, in his mind, quite well. Even Mr. McDuck looked a little smug for Gyro’s success.

Then the machine was turned on.

It gave a warning whine, Gyro actually leaning in to see what the issue was. Letting out a choking sound as he was pulled back by Scrooge’s cane. All taking cover when the invention exploded. Leaving the pedestal it had been resting on and the wall behind it with dark scorch marks.

Gyro felt absolutely sick. Wide eyes staring at the spot where his achievement once sat. Only looking away when Bradford slammed his hands down.

“Unacceptable! Even a simple request created something so dangerous. I am putting my foot down on this Mr. McDuck.” The buzzard huffed as he stared Gyro down.

Scrooge, on his part, merely seemed unfazed by it all. Taking the time dust himself off. Pulling Gyro up and straightening him out as well before speaking. “Dr. Gearloose. Would you mind waiting for me in the labs. I need to have a quick discussion with the board.”

Gyro merely nodded. His voice stuck in his throat as he made his way to the elevator. Arms and stomach heavy with his failure. He knew he was fired. His one opportunity was gone. Gyro realized this was his best and only chance at getting any sort of job. A scientist who’s inventions caused more damage and cut off by Scrooge McDuck? Gyro would be lucky if he got a job at Radio Hut after all of this.

He collapses into the first chair he could find in the lab. Laying his glasses on a nearby flat surface and rubbing his temples. At this point in his life, Gyro wasn’t as emotionally blocked as he would later become. But he was learning that breakdowns were seen as weaknesses.

By his parents.

By his classmates.

By Dr. Akita.

So while he wanted nothing more than to hide away. Let this moment of emotional sorrow pass naturally and move on. Gyro had been conditioned to hold it in. Because what scientist falls apart?

He let out a slow breath as the elevator announced it’s arrival. Glasses on and standing as Scrooge made a direct line for him. While showing emotions weren’t allowed, Gyro learned that groveling was acceptable. Something Dr. Akita was quick to teach.

“I am sorry,” Gyro said quickly, “It wasn’t my intention for it to explode.”

“I had assumed so.”

“If given another chance-”

“Lad, you’re not fired.”

Gyro swallowed weakly. Stunned by the name and the announcement. “But...I almost killed everyone.”

“That’s a tad extreme. We would have been maimed. But kill? Doubtful.”

“It exploded!”

“I’ve experienced worse.”

“Mr. McDuck, with all due respect, you’re insane.”

Scrooge waved his hand. “No matter. Why don’t you take a seat.”

Doing as asked, Gyro looked up nervously, hands clenched together as he waited.

“As stated before, you’re not fired. Even after your explosive debut. I know Bradford is a stickler for keeping things ‘safe’. It’s one of the reasons I hired him onto the team. But he doesn’t understand that needed balance of risk and reward. I’m aware of your past. Which I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about at this point. We are our own worst critics. But I also know of your successes, your numerous successes.”

“I want to see you succeed. You deserve to see yourself succeed. I want to give you that opportunity. We’ll need to make sure you can give something to Bradford on occasion to keep him placated. But, other than that, you will have full creative freedom. How does that sound?”

Gyro swallowed hard, trying to keep himself stable. No longer fearful. Now extremely happy. However, he kept himself in check to remain professional. “Honestly, it’s too good to be true.”

Scrooge merely laughed. Clapping a hand on Gyro’s shoulder. “Well, get over that starstruck feeling quick lad. You have a lot of work ahead of you. I trust you can manage from here.”

As he watched Scrooge head back towards the elevator, Gyro realized something. “Um, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Your bet, with Bradford, you didn’t technically win.”

“Technically yes.”

“So...shouldn’t I be fired?”

A smirk appeared on the billionaire’s face, eyes seeming to shine. “Bradford needs to use his words better. He said if he wasn’t impressed, he wouldn’t discuss not keeping you. He never out right said I had to fire you. So, unfortunately, we’ll still need to hear his complaints. But he can’t fire you unless he gives me a good reason. Which I doubt he’ll be able to give.”

“I...thank you, Mr. McDuck.” Gyro weakly answered in disbelief.

“Don’t thank me. Just be the scientist I know you can be.”

“I will sir!”

Turning in the elevator to face Gyro, Scrooge gave a nod and smile. “I know lad. I trust you.”

_____________________________

The Brother

Gyro has always been a loner. He worked best this way. He was able to focus and didn’t have to constantly worry if his partner was doing their work properly. Plus, no one had really tried to include him in anything during his younger years. So he learned that working alone was better for him.

He was very much against the idea of having an intern working in his lab. Which Scrooge flat out refused to take Gyro’s refusal. Meaning the chicken couldn’t deny the hired help no matter how loudly he complained. With the unfortunate addition of the possible literal rendition of sunshine named Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera being hired a few weeks later. Which also meant an increased number of ‘visitors’ to this dangerous lab to see the brown duck. Doing nothing to help Gyro’s frantic state of keeping everything safe and making sure nothing became evil.

Scrooge was a common person to see there. After all, he owned the lab and it was attached to his place of work. Why wouldn’t he arrive to check on progress. To be shown what Gyro was working on. Now, however, the billionaire invited himself in to also check on Fenton. To make sure the intern was actually doing scientific research and not just cleaning the floors.

Launchpad had become friends with Fenton after that B.U.D.D.Y incident. The idiotic driver deciding that wasting time discussing some childhood show was perfectly fine. Gyro honestly tried to not become infuriated. But did he have to waste the interns' time! Even if the chicken didn’t want help from the other. It was the principle of the matter.

This also caused the blue nephew (Dew- something, whatever) to join Launchpad in the lab. Two children or beings with childlike personalities running around in the lab. A place filled with dangerous equipment. It was the perfect place to socialize in, Gyro sarcastically muttered to himself. And Scrooge actually encouraged it! Saying social engagement was good for both Fenton and Gyro. As if the chicken wanted to talk to someone who didn’t know what NaCl was.

So even he was surprised when he started to form a connection with Huey Duck. The red cladded nephew first started showing up to visit Fenton originally. The duckling particularly enamored with the scientist/superhero. Both talking for hours about new upgrades they could possibly make to the suit.

“With you permission, of course! D-Dr. Gearloose.” Fenton would assure with a sheepish smile. Which Gyro would respond with a mere rolling of his eyes.

As time went on and Fenton started to leave more and more due to hero calls, Huey started following Gyro around. The duckling deciding he wouldn't want to leave the labs quiet yet. And Huey wanted to pick the head scientist’s brain with his own ideas. At first, Gyro assumed his ‘wonderful’ personality would drive the other away. Huey, however, didn’t seem to care.

“You don’t have any siblings, do you.”

Gyro raised a brow at that. “Uh, no. At least I didn’t when I was actually living at home. At this point in my life, who knows. What’s your point.”

“My point being that your sullen attitude will have no effect on me. I’m the oldest of three. So, I have to deal with younger brothers. Sour attitudes are an old trick.”

“There really is no getting rid of you.”

“Nope.”

Gyro won’t lie, it was aggravating at first. He already had a shadow in the form of Fenton. Now the chicken was settled with another one that liked to constantly talk and didn’t fear him. Gyro only gave proper notice to the duckling when Fenton came to him with an upgrade for the Gizmosuit. One that sounded good.

“I thought you were busy with your toothbrush idea. When did you have time to think of this?”

“Actually, Huey came up with this.” Fenton answered.

“The red triplet?”

The duck smiled softly. “He’s been around here enough times. I think you can refer to him by his name.”

The chicken wasn’t overly fond of this idea. In his mind, the use of a name means Gyro cared enough to remember. And caring meant he wasn’t truly focused on his work. Something Akita was very adamant that Gyro learned.

But look where Gyro was now. Abandoned by his mentor.

Maybe Fenton was onto something. That felt strange to say.

“Very well. Perhaps I’ll have to try it your way.” Gyro was hit with a wave of confusion by the sudden sweeping sensation that went through his stomach. Fenton’s smile seeming to hit differently that day. But the head scientist filed that sensation away under ‘a later problem’.

Gyro should not have felt a sense of accomplishment seeing Huey’s eyes light up upon hearing his name. The chicken should have cut ties when the triplet sheepishly asked if Gyro could review Huey’s science project. And there should have been no sickening, worry feeling entering his veins when Huey arrived to the labs one day with a black eye.

Fenton, being the caring overbearing person he was, instantly panicked. “Huey! What happened to you? Are you alright?”

Gyro scoffed. “Of course he isn’t. He’s injured.”

“Do we have ice packs?”

“Freezer in the break room. I’ll get the first aid.” The chicken gestured for Huey to follow him. The duckling doing so without complaint. “Come on, take a seat. I need to see where else you’ve been hurt.”

Huey gave no response. Which was starting to become worrisome. The duckling was covered with small cuts and bruises. Gyro thankful it wasn’t worse… Because he didn’t want to waste the resources! Of course. What else would he be talking about.

Fenton came rushing back in. An ice pack wrapped in a hand towel was pressed against the black eyes. “Leave that there for a while. Do you need some pain medicine?”

“Already taken care of,” Gyro answered once again, “Now that all of that’s been taken care of. I think we’re owed an explanation.”

“Dr. Gearloose, just give him a moment.”

“I would like a reason for why Huey,” darn it Gyro said the name, “came to us instead to one of his uncle’s or other family members.”

“He can tell us when he’s ready. Give him a chance to relax.”

“And he can when he tells us- me what’s going on right now.”

“Dr. Gearloose-”

“I was able to skip a level in science.” The adult fell quiet hearing Huey’s whispered response.

“What?”

Huey gestured to his discarded bag. To which Fenton grabs it, handing it over. The duckling opened it and pulled out a familiar notebook that had been shoved into Gyro’s face numerous times. One that held Huey’s numerous sketches and ideas. Except it was destroyed. Practically torn to shreds, almost unrecognizable from what the head scientist had seen before.

“I showed my teachers my notebook. They were really impressed and talked to the principal about me skipping a level. It’s so I could enter the science fair that the upper level students can participate in. They said I had a lot of potential. Uncle Donald was happy, I was happy. My brothers teased me, but I know they were happy for me. I was kind of...blinded by my eagerness, I was under the assumption everyone would just be...okay with this.”

“Your classmates…” Gyro meant to have it sound like a statement. It instead sounded like a sickening realization.

But Huey merely nodded before continuing. “They’ve been writing things on my desk. Throwing things at me. I’ve been ignoring it…”

“Have they...hurt you before?” Fenton asked.

“No. I think they were tired that they hadn’t been getting a response from me like they wanted.”

“Have you told your uncle about this?”

“No… He’s already having a hard time finding a job and fixing the boathouse. I was hoping if I just ignored them, they’d leave me alone. ...I think I’m going to just drop back down to my grade level.”

“You are not going to let those punks win,” Gyro was surprised that he didn’t flinch as two sets of eyes snapped to him, “If you just go running back to your previous classes, you let them win. You’ll give them more fuel to think their actions are right. Especially if you haven’t told anyone about this. There will be no repercussions and they’ll continue to be terrible little creatures.”

“What do I do then?” Huey asked.

“You’re going to tell your uncle, your teachers, your principal, everyone you can. You’re going to come back with even better ideas. And This is a fight you can win because you have support. People who care about you...or something mushy like that.”

Huey gave a nod, rubbing his good eye and giving a blinding smile. “Okay...thank you, Dr. Gearloose.”

Gyro didn’t squirm weakly under the adoring look being sent his way. Or feel any sort of warmth blossoming in his chest knowing he’d helped in some way. Or become flustered at the smile aimed at him by Fenton, who’s eyes seemed to shine with happiness.

“I also know a side step that can break a femur. Very useful to know.”

“Dr. Gearloose!”

A few days later, Huey returned to the labs. Bright eyed and eager to show off his idea. No longer supporting injuries or secrets.

Gyro felt another save of fluster when Huey hugged his legs while Fenton laughed softly as he watched.

_____________________________

The Son

Gyro was surprised so much could change in one day. Well...one day-ish. It was more like three. Point being it felt as if all events had transpired in one day.

2-BO, now named Boyd, entered his life once more. The real boy having befriended Huey. Because of course that’s who would meet Gyro’s used-to-be biggest regret. Then he returned to Tokyolk after 10 years with Fenton, Huey, and Boyd in tow. The original intention was to destroy (Selene above he felt sick thinking about it now) Boyd. Get rid of his past.

Only for his entire perspective to be flipped. The mentor he thought was on his side had corrupted Gyro’s creation. Boyd was never given an option in his original purpose. Turned into a war machine that the chicken never wanted. And Gyro himself realized he was not the mad scientist so many had labeled him as.

He will admit, it was by sheer dumb luck and tapping into emotions he was sure had shriveled up long ago that it all ended so well. Akita was arrested. Going to be put to trial and allowing Gyro a chance to properly clear his name. Boyd overrode all corrupted coding, both Akita’s and Mark’s. Becoming the real little boy he was meant to be. All surviving and heading back home to Duckberg. As he rested in the cushioned plane seat, Boyd resting on his lap, Gyro was hit with two realizations.

The first topic (one which he honestly wanted to focus on much, much later) was an understanding of what Fenton meant to him. Between the fear of possible death and the burn of betrayal, Gyro had felt a deep distress watching the duck fight for his life. Fenton had given his all to protect the city and the citizens. And it almost cost him his life. Something Gyro never wanted to see again. The reason why was something that the chicken was not fully ready to review. Not yet. Possibly in the future, at some point. But he had another problem he needed to worry about now.

The second worry was equally confusing. Possibly because Gyro was still emotionally backed up. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen to Boyd. Gyro was made aware by Huey that the other real boy had been living with the Drake’s. A pompous rich family with an arrogant and rather disturbing child. A setting Gyro didn’t want Boyd growing up in. But what was the other option? Gyro himself? Someone who’s never known a stable family life and is not even close to the person Boyd once knew.

He could barely care for himself if Gyro was honest. Living off of multiple cups of coffee and cheap instant noodles. His sleep schedule was non-existent. Social skills were laughable. Gyro had honestly nothing to offer. It was terrible that there was not a better solution to all of this. Boyd deserved so much better than whatever his current care taking options could offer.

Gyro was shocked when, only a few days later, Boyd announced he wanted to live with the scientist.

“I- why?” Gyro winced at how harsh he sounded. But Boyd merely smiled back.

“I just found you. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Well, how was he supposed to say no to that? Gyro’s second bedroom, which once housed numerous boxes, was turned into a proper living space. He lived by a schedule that revolved around Boyd’s activities. Researching meals that both could enjoy and even learning how to properly cook. It was strange, but very rewarding. Gyro didn’t think it would affect him so much.

Until Fenton pointed it out.

“You’re really happy.”

It was a casual comment. But it gave Gyro pause. “What?”

Fenton stalled at that, flushing softly. “Sorry, I mean… I just noticed you seemed to be smiling more. And you’re more relaxed. You’re eating better and well rested. You just look really happy.”

Gyro leaned back in his chair. Tapping his pen as he thought the statement over. “I...suppose I am. Boyd really had changed me for the better, I think. Isn’t it strange...he was once my biggest regret. Now, I can’t see him not being in my life. I do worry that I’m not doing enough. Or that I won’t be what Boyd needs.”

Gyro flushed softly feeling a hand benign placed on his shoulder. Looking up at the beaming face Fenton. “You’re doing a wonderful job Gyro. Don’t doubt yourself.”

The scientist did all he could to not melt into the floor. He takes Fenton’s words to heart. Gyro had worked with Fenton long enough to know the duck wasn’t one to just give false praise. So, if Fenton thought the chicken was doing well, who was Gyro to question the given conclusion.

Gyro’s resolve was truly tested when he received a call from the school Boyd was attending. Apparently the real boy had been in a fight. A fight fight with another student.

Hearing this caused Gyro to panic. Worrying that possibly, maybe, the corrupted programming had returned. Wondering what could have happened for Boyd to act like this. Had Gyro said something sarcastic that the real boy had taken to heart? Was Boyd going to be taken away? Was this a sign that Gyro was not fit to be a caretaker?

The chicken was brought out of his spinning thoughts when someone grabbed his shoulders. Eyes connected to Fenton’s, who’s looking was concerning.

“Dr. Gearloose, you need to calm down. You’re drawing a conclusion with so little context. Just go to the school and hear what happened. Then you can react appropriately.”

“Right… Right, I need to get there.” The chicken mumbled weakly, eyes now frantically scanning the lab for his car keys. Fenton came to the rescue again when said items suddenly appeared in his hands.

“How about I drive.”

“...Yeah. That’s probably for the best.”

The drive was quiet. Fenton focused on the road while Gyro internally panicked. All too soon they were pulling into the school’s parking lot. The area was relatively empty as they walked up to the front entrance. Fenton made a quiet comment about the teachers having to park behind the building. It was a bit of a shock to run into Donald. The duck looked close to an angry snap.

“Hello Mr. Duck.” Fenton offered a smile.

“Fenton,” Donald’s eyes went to Gyro, “Boyd?”

Gyro nodded. “He was apparently in a fight. What about you?”

“Huey.”

What was going on?

The three walked in together, being directed by the secretary to where the principal’s office was. Dewey and Louie were waiting outside. The triplets wearing concerned looks when they looked over to the approaching adults. Donald gave them each a hug with a few words of encouragement before knocking on the imposing door. Gyro’s hand instantly shot out and grabbed onto Fenton’s as his heart raced. The duck gave no complaint. Even giving an encouraging squeeze as they walked in.

The large desk was the first thing to note. Large and imposing, telling all that the person sitting behind it to be respected. Even if the principal himself was a frail little bird. To the right sat a large bulldog boy supporting an arm with fabric wrapped around it. Gyro assumed there was a scrap of some kind underneath the fabric. A wiry female was dotting over the child while a brick wall of a man standing behind them both with his arms crossed.

To the left sat Huey and Boyd. The real boy seemed unharmed. Just appearing extremely nervous and worried. Huey, on the other hand, was supporting a black eye. A bag of ice already pressed on the injury. Gyro needed to research if there were long term effects of multiple black eyes.

Donald instantly broke away from the three, bending down to check on Huey. Gyro walked over to Boyd. Still having a hold on Fenton’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Gyro frantically asked. To which Boyd gave a sharp nod and fell still again. Deciding that was enough of an answer for now, the scientist moved himself and Fenton to behind the seats.

“Thank you all for coming,” the principal began, “I realize this was all on short notice. But we do not tolerate fighting. According to numerous student witnesses, there was a verbal dispute that turned violent during recess. One that resulted in Dennis benign pushed and Huey receiving a black eye. Before I continue, I will ask that you hold all comments and questions until the end. Is this agreeable?”

All adults nodded.

“Very well.” Reaching for something in his drawer, the principal pulled out a cell phone protected by a faded green case. “Louie Duck was able to record the incident and it lines up with the events the other students have provided. Dennis here was apparently using verbal harassment and inappropriate language against Boyd. To which Huey attempted to defuse the situation by walking away. Dennis has responded by throwing a punch. To what ends, I’m unsure, and Dennis has not provided an answer for his actions.”

The chair Huey was sitting in let out a loud noise of protest. Donald gripping the back of it tightly.

“And you well to continue, Mr. Duck?”

Donald nodded.

“Very well. Boyd here reacted to this by pushing Dennis away. The scrap on his arm caused by his fall. Mr. and Mrs. Morris, I’m unsure as to where your son has learned such language and actions. I would advise you to seriously monitor the media and outside influence your son consumes.”

“Oh absolutely,” Mrs. Morris answered readily, “Don’t you fret. We will have a stern talking to Dennis when we get home.”

“That is good to hear. Now, does anyone have any questions about this matter.”

“What exactly did young Dennis here say to Boyd. If I may ask.” Gyro’s voice was even. But, if Fenton squeezing his hand was any indication, his tone was dripping with venom.

“I won’t say specifics as I don’t wish to repeat them. Dennis was making comments about Boyd’s...past. Something about him being dangerous. As well as some...homophobic comments.”

Fenton squeezed Gyro’s hand again, the chicken shaking now. With fear or rage, he couldn’t tell. His own attention had snapped over to Mr. Morris. The father still having his arms crossed and imposing. But Gyro noticed the other’s eyes flitted down to Gyro’s and Fenton’s joined hands. The scowl seemed to become deeper once the father was caught in the action.

“I see. I’m very concerned as to where Dennis would have picked up language like that.” Gyro held eye contact with Mr. Morris until the principal cleared his throat.

“If there are no more questions… Mr. and Mrs. Morris, the actions, both verbal and physical, cannot go unpunished. We do not tolerate this kind of behavior. Dennis will be given one weeks suspension. As well as a written apology letter to both Huey and Boyd. I would also recommend setting up some meetings with the school counselor.”

“Understandable, very reasonable.” Mrs. Morris nodded while Mr. Morris was shaking with, no doubt, rage.

“Very well. Mr. Gearloose-”

“Dr. Gearloose.”

“Ah, apologizes. Dr. Gearloose, I’m aware Boyd was merely defending Huey. However-”

“You’re going to give him detention because he pushed Dennis. Defending himself in a violent way.”

“Ah...yes. Huey will receive no punishment. I hope we’re all understanding of this course of action?” Another round of sharp nods, “Very well, I won’t keep you all any longer. Mr. Duck, here is Louie’s phone. Thank him for providing me with his phone. All are excused for the rest of the day.”

It was tense walking out. The Morris’ were leading the way. But Gyro kept a tight grip on Fenton as Mr. Morris kept glancing back with a dark scowl. Something Gyro was not a fan of. It didn’t reach a head until they entered the parking lot. Away from the front doors and the cameras.

Mr. Morris turned and stalked over to the mismatched group. Gyro more than ready for the awaiting confrontation.

“I know you, Gearloose. I’ve seen your name in the paper before. You’re an absolute menace in every possible way.” Eyes darted back down to the still clasped hands.

“Yet I’ve accomplished more than you could ever hope for in your miserable life. Your need for constant approval has clearly made you bitter. Because you’d rather stomp out any spark of joy than attempt to change yourself or your family. If this incident was any indication.”

Mr. Morris let out a low growl. Gyro fully expecting to be decked as well. Only to be shocked when Fenton stepped between the two. The larger looking down with a raised brow.

“And who are you.”

“He’s my emotional support duck.” Gyro answered.

“Do you really think a confrontation on school grounds will reflect well in any way,” Fenton said, “I would suggest you step away from this now.”

Mr. Morris popped his shoulder, his scowl set. From behind, Mrs. Morris gave a clear and harsh cough. Her husband benign sent a hard stare of his own when he turned to look back. It was a silent, but brief conversation between the two of them that ended with the husband shuffling back over to his family. No one from the group relaxed until the pink mini-van drove away from the parking lot.

“So what exactly was your plan here?” Gyro frowned at Fenton, “I don’t see the Gizmoduck armor on you.”

“My body reacted before I could really...think.” The duck laughed sheepishly.

The head scientist merely rolled his eyes before turning to Boyd. Who looked back with worried eyes. “You okay?”

The real boy shifted nervously. “He called me a weapon and...I really tried not to fight. I tried to ignore him. But he...he pushed Huey and I got really mad… What if he was right?”

“He absolutely is not right.”

“Gyro.” Fenton whispers, in the same tone that told the chicken he was sounding harsh. The head scientist was thrown off for a moment hearing his name and not his normal title. Tuck that moment of broken mind away for later.

Gyro let out a slow breath before kneeling down and placing a hand on Boyd’s shoulder. “Boyd, you know who you are. I know who you are. You are not a weapon or a mindless machine. You are a real little boy. And you need to remember that, because you are going to meet a lot of people like Dennis. Closed minded and very ignorant. Saying anything they can to make you feel miserable and make them feel better.”

“However...you have people in your life who know you. Truly know you. Those are the people you need to listen to. Because they are going to make sure you believe in yourself. Understand?”

Boyd blinked as he thought the statement over. Eyes darting over to Huey, the triplets watching as Donald shouted at someone over the phone. No doubt having called up the principal or someone higher up in the schooling system to complain about the interaction in the parking lot. The red cladded triplet looked over to Boyd, giving a small smile and a wave. Which the real boy returned happily.

“I understand, Dad.”

Gyro swallowed weakly, pulling the small form closer while trying to keep his emotions in check. A weight on his shoulder drew his attention back to Fenton. Who had bent down as well with a smile on his face. The chicken smiled back in appreciation.

_____________________________

The Lover

Gyro knew this realization was a long time coming. No matter how many times he tried to deny it. Tell himself emotions were useless weights. He reached the point where he couldn’t hide the fact any longer.

Gyro had fallen in love with Fenton.

Which is not something he really wanted to focus on.

Gyro was sure he was becoming addicted to Fenton’s laugh. The head scientist had a mental category that each laugh fell into. A hard exhale through the nose was a sarcastic laugh if Fenton found something ridiculous but didn’t want to say anything. Hiding behind his clipboard with shoulders shaking meant he found something online but didn’t want to disturb the quiet. Small chortles seemed reserved for Gyro, the duck finding the head scientist’s dry humor funny. His full laugh was used with abandonment when he knew he wouldn’t be reprimanded for being so loud. Which was honestly more often than not anymore. Gyro found he loved how the sound would echo in the labs. It was almost like music.

There was also a list of body ticks that always caught Gyro’s eyes. Gently tapping the eraser of his pencil against his bill as he thought through a new problem. Tilting his head to the side with his hip occasionally cocked to the side as he looked over a blueprint. His brow would furrow when he concentrated hard on a situation. The top of his tongue would poke out when he reached ‘Gyro level’ of focus. His nose would crinkle when he silently found something amusing or disgusting. Which could only be determined by how brightly his eyes would shine.

Gyro could privately say, to himself, in his head, that Fenton honestly kept him grounded. The number of insults he would have hurled at the media dwindled when he thought of how disappointed the duck would be. The chicken had substantially cut back on the cups of coffee he would consume in one day when Fenton made a comment about being worried about his heart. He was surprised when he went to the duck to look over a new design, wanting feedback. Fenton beaming with each new time he was included in something. Gyro would counter saying Scrooge had warned the chicken he wasn’t utilizing Fenton to his fullest ability. Which was partially true. But he would be lying if Gyro wasn’t also looking for that blinding smile of adoration to be sent his way.

So, yes. After all the mental and physical lists he created. The pros and cons to having a relationship with anyone. Countless nights where he would lie awake knowing he was nowhere near worthy enough to have Fenton. Gyro knew he was in love with the duck.

The problem was moving forward with this revelation.

In all honesty, admitting it just made it all more bothersome. When Gyro still had his walls up, he could blame the rapid heartbeat as some symptoms of an onset illness. Just push the problem away to keep working. But having Boyd back in his life made him realize how bottling his emotions had become so damaging. Making Gyro more aware of what he was missing.

So now he was left to tread water. Wondering who he trusted well enough to ask for help.

There weren’t that many options with the Duck family. He and Donald had never really gotten along before the Spear of Selene incident. And Gyro was sure the duck still held some hostility towards him about the incident. While Gyro would consider Della the closest person to be a ‘childhood’ friend, she was dealing with her own issues. The kids were far too young to be considered as an option. Launchpad only had two rocks rolling around in that empty head, so any advice from him was not worth the headache. M’ma Cabrera? ...Selene above no. Even Gyro wasn’t that insane.

So that only left...Scrooge McDuck. This could not be considered a work appropriate topic. But the chicken was honestly at his wits end and needed help. The billionaire was his last and only option. It was with a heavy stone in his stomach that Gyro approached the familiar office doors. Knocking on them and only entering when he heard the familiar call out to do so.

“Ah, Gyro! What can I do for you?” Scrooge asked as the chicken sat across from him.

“I...need some advice.”

Scrooge paused in his writing, raising a brow as his full attention went to Gyro. “Advice on what?”

The chicken swallowed weakly. “Uh...romantic advice?”

“I see…” The billionaire placed his pend down. Clearing his throat, Scrooge sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Well, I will admit that I have not been very successful in my own love life. But I can offer help in any way I can. So, who’s the lucky person?”

Gyro swallowed again, feeling his face become flushed at the question. Doing all he could not to groan, he answered, “It’s Fenton.”

“The Gizmoboy? Really?”

Gyro nodded, not looking at Scrooge. His face on fire. “I just don’t know what to do. I’m aware that things have been going well and I don’t want to ruin it. But I feel like I’m going crazy! My heart is always going so fast when he’s near. I want to tell him, I really do. But...I also don’t think I’m the kind of person he deserves…”

Scrooge let out a heavy sigh as Gyro’s shoulders slumped. “I won’t act as if I’ve known you for your entire life. We both know I haven’t. But I have seen you at your lowest point and every triumph you’ve accomplished along the way. I’ve seen you slowly close in on yourself. It pained me to watch because I wasn’t sure how to help…”

“Let’s be honest sir. We both have not been in great positions emotionally for a while.” Gyro commented weakly. One that got a laugh out of Scrooge.

“This is true. But, the point is you have made a change in the past few months. I know you’ve built walls around yourself. I also know...bringing those walls down can be a terrifying idea. You’ve already started thanks to that boy of yours. Even if it was unintentional.”

“But what if he says no? I don’t know… There are too many variables that could offer a negative outcome.”

“That’s the risk of life. The good and the bad.”

“So what if he says no.”

“Then you move forward.”

“...I don’t know if I will recover.”

“Gyro, you’re putting the horse before the cart. And we’re still building the cart.”

Letting out a small groan, Gyro rubbed his forehead before looking back up. “Okay. So I’m taking a risk. We’ve determined that. But what do I say to him?”

“You just ask him.”

“Could you please not make it sound so easy.”

“It sounds easy because it is. You’re asking Fenton out on a date. Not defusing a bomb.”

“Yet the latter seems easier to accomplish.”

“Take the risk Gyro. Don’t waste your life wallowing on the ‘what-ifs’. You’ll regret it.”

Gyro left the office with not many answers and a pounding headache. But with determination to try and make this work in some way.

The bottom drawer of his desk was now filled with blueprints. Not for machines, but the best plan to ask Fenton out. The perfect places to go. All ranging from the cliche to the outlandish. What day would work best. His feathers became further ruffled as he worked. After a week of no progress, Gyro knew this wasn’t going to work. No reliable variables or knowledgeable outcomes. He just needed to do this. Because Gyro couldn’t stay in this mindset anymore.

Gyro’s first move was to wait for the lab to be empty. If he was going to crash and burn, he didn’t want an audience. Once that was achieved, he took a deep breath to settle his heart (didn’t work) and walked over to Fenton’s desk. The duck breaking from his thoughts hearing Gyro clear his throat.

“Hello Dr. Gearloose. What can I help you with?”

Gyro’s heart seemed to pick up it’s pace. Between the smile and wide eyes, the chicken felt like he was melting. In a good way. If that makes sense. None of this did.

Emotions were just so messy.

Darn it Gyro, focus!

“I...was wondering if you would be interested in conducting a...social experiment with me.”

“Oh, uh, sure! Of course. What’s the experiment?”

Another deep breath. “There is a new cafe that’s opened up recently near where I live. I am curious if you would like to join me in trying the products they offer. Sometime this weekend, possibly Saturday? Possibly trade some stories?”

Fenton’s head tilted to the side as Gyro spoke. A small smile forming as the other finished. “Dr. Gearloose-”

“Gyro. You...you can call me Gyro.”

“Okay, Gyro. Would it be safe to assume that this is an ask for a date?”

“That...would be a safe assumption.”

“Then I accept.”

Gyron was honestly shocked he was able to remain standing. Relief hitting him quickly upon hearing the answer. “Good, good.”

“How about I drop by your apartment around 8? Have breakfast at this cafe?”

“That’s acceptable.”

“Good. I look forward to this Saturday.”

“I am as well.”

One date turned to two. Which turned into three. Which became having dinner at the Crackshell-Cabrera household. Gyro was shocked when he received M’ma Cabrera’s blessing in  dating her son. But not before getting a stern warning of what would happen if Fenton was hurt in any way.

“I think that was successful.” Fenton commented as they were sharing their good-byes for the evening on the front porch.

“Yeah. Nothing says accepting like a talk that ends in the threat of my kneecaps.” Gyro smiled softly hearing the other chuckle.

“Well, she may or may not be upset still about your MoonVasion comment. You know. About throwing Gizmoduck into the masses as a sacrifice.”

“I may now also regret that comment…”

Another laugh from Fenton, the duck reaching down to gently take Gyro’s hand. Placing a kiss on the back of it before holding it close. “I’m glad you came. I think M’ma really appreciates it as well.”

“I’m happy I came as well… You know...I don’t say or do things that intentionally hurt you. I did at first but-”

“Gyro.”

“Yes?”

“I know you better now than I did before.”

And the matter was dropped.

The first kiss milestone occurred at the park around the holidays. Both bundled up against the cold and falling snow as they admired the strung holiday lights hanging from the numerous trees. Arms hooked, Fenton led the way with wide eyes. Giving small comments about the lights and how lovely the park was decorated. Gyro was admiring the duck himself. Loving how the lights fell over the brown plumage. Fenton eventually caught on that the chicken wasn’t looking at the light as he was. Flushing softly seeing eyes on him.

“W-What?” The duck laughed, a small smile forming.

“You’re beautiful.” Gyro responded softly. Fenton’s eyes widened at the comment before softening into another smile. Gyro put up no restraint as he was gently pulled down. Fenton leaning up and meeting the chicken in a gentle kiss. It was only a few seconds, but Gyro loved every moment of it.

The utterance of the three words came a few months into them dating. Fenton had arrived back to the labs after an intense battle to find a worried chicken. Arms crossed and first aid kit in his hands. There was a sharp point set to the couch and Fenton understood the silent command. Stepping out of the suit and plopping onto the cushioned furniture. Gyro made it clear he was less than pleased at the moment.

“What were you thinking.” The chicken snapped. Hand shaking as he attempted to gently clean the cuts.

“People needed help.”

“Why is that your answer for everything and why do you think it’s a reasonable one.”

“Because it’s true. I have to defend Duckberg.”

“Even against crazies coming from St. Canard? Can’t that purple caped idiot keep them in his neck of the woods.”

Fenton smiled softly. “Villains are people too. You can’t control everything.”

“Don’t tell me that. You know the first thing I’m going to do is make something that controls people to make them leave this place.”

“Gyro, that’s unethical.”

“Well, maybe if you would stop being your heroic self and making me worry.”

“I understood the risks when I took this position. As did you. As long as I have you to come back to, I’ll be okay.”

Gyro huffed as he finished up. Turning to start packing up the supplies. “I love you, but you can be such an idiot sometimes.”

He didn’t catch it until Fenton grabbed his hand suddenly. The chicken looked up to find eyes filled with shock staring at him. “What...did you say?”

Gyro frowned, thinking back to his previous words. Face becoming full blown red when he realized what he’d just uttered. “I… Is it too soon to say that? I’m sorry, I just- I’ve been thinking it a lot and every time you go to your superheroing, I think how I’m not going to get to say it. But I know we haven’t dated for a year and-”

“I love you too.”

Swallowing his words down, Gyro’s head snapped back up to look Fenton in the eyes. They sat, staring at each other in disbelief before Fenton chuckled. Gyro shares his own sheepish grin before leaning forward to claim a kiss from Fenton.

It was close to a year of them dating that Fenton moved in with Gyro and Boyd. The real boy thrilled to have the other doctor living with them. The once small, cold apartment was now teeming with life. Mornings were a rush to get ready for the day and to be out the door before they were all late. The kitchen filled with warmth and wonderful smells as Fenton makes dinner with Gyro helping where he could. Meals being shared at the small dining table before watching a few shows until bedtime. Gyro and Fenton taking turns reading to Boyd before he powered down for the night.

It was a comfortable routine. Something Gyro thought he would’ve hated. But with each day ending with him and Fenton in their shared bed. The younger laying his head on Gyro’s chest and long arms wrapped around him. The chicken realized he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I think we should buy a house.” Gyro suddenly commented into the darkness. Hearing Fenton hum softly as he was pulled from sleep.

“Where’d this come from?” The duck mumbled weakly.

“I’m not really sure. The boring suburban life seems pleasant after the craziness of...everything. What do you think?”

“I like the idea,” Fenton yawned widely before pressing closer, “We could get a big yard for Boyd and Lil Blub to play in. Neighborhood kids to become friends with. I think Della mentioned about getting a house in a quiet suburb. We could ask her.”

“That place won’t be quiet once that family moves in.”

“Oh hush. Wouldn’t it be nice to have Huey as a neighbor? Boyd would like it.”

“I suppose so…”

Fenton gave another hum, Gyro noticing the other’s breathing was slowing down again. He leaned down to place a kiss on Fenton’s forehead. “I love you.”

The duck laughed softly. Placing his own weak kiss on Gyro’s neck. “Love you too…”

Gyro let out a slow breath, a smile forming on his face. Eyes on the ceiling as he listened to Fenton fall asleep. A hand reached up to preen a few feathers as he pulled the other closer. Heart beating happily as he settled down further into the bed. A smile still on his face as he fell asleep as well.

[gaytransflint]

@a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives​​ prompted: set in post season 2. Flint lends his largest shirt to Silver while he's recovering inside the cabin. Hurt/Comfort conversation about Silver's pain and discomfort. [tw for internalized ableism ahead]

When Silver wakes he’s quiet, barely conscious. He blinks and feels around the blankets and the bench, as if finding his balance. He groans inquisitively, but asks for nothing. For no one. Flint doesn’t rise from his chair, turning only to see Silver drift back off, hands gripping the hem of his stained shirt. Splotches of blood line his sleeves and waist. Flint makes note and stands from his desk.

The third time Silver wakes, it’s with a harsh start. He shouts and nearly throws his weight over the edge of his bed. Luckily, Flint had moved to rest in the chair by his bedside, resting in the setting sunshine, and catches him before he hits the floor.

“Steady, Silver.” Flint eases him back down. Silver has the look of a child-- an infant, almost: shocked and horrified and looking in every direction for relief. Everything is at the worst state he’s ever experienced and it’s unchanging. Flint can’t imagine the pain. He's unsure if he can.

“How are you feeling?” Flint asks, once Silver is sitting back again. "You were out for a while there."

“I didn’t want this.” Silver says immediately, shaking his head. There isn't just agony to his voice, there's terror. He's afraid it's still real. “I didn’t want this. I told them.”

"Silver, does it hurt-- where does it hurt?” Flint inches forward on his chair, resting his hands on the edge of the window bench.

"I told them I didn't want this." Silver surges upward again, grappling for Flint-- if only to thrust him out of the way. "I told them I didn't."

"Silver, you're okay."

"I told them no." There is a new ache in his voice. The sentence is worn out, but perhaps it's first time being heard. "I told them not to. I said no."

"I know. I know you did." Flint sits back in the chair. "I was informed of the entire ordeal. It must’ve been very horrific for you, I’m sure.”

"Don’t fucking placate me.” Silver snaps, shoving his blankets back.

He exposes his leg and his wound. He gags, but Flint supposes that’s the closest thing to a sob he’ll ever see. Silver places a hand over his chest, steadying his breath. His fingers dig into the collar-- then immediately splay out. Silver looks down at the shirt, holding his arms out. He begins to shudder.

“What happened to my shirt.”

“That one was completely soiled. I couldn’t let you wake in that.” Flint says, folding his hands in his lap. He hopes it establishes his willingness to see Silver through the terror racking his face, crumpling every hardened feature into a startling softness. He’s close to tears, and Flint can tell there is nothing Silver would rather do less than let a single tear break through and fall down his cheek.

“You changed my clothes.” Silver says. “You didn’t ask me. I would’ve said no. You didn’t ask me--”

The anger breaks through and flares out at Flint. He doesn’t move away from Silver, or even begin apologizing. He remains still and watches Silver’s face contort with the rashness of fury and, eventually, grief. It takes Flint a moment to realize it is not just the loss of a leg that Silver mourns, but a certain loss of self-- of being and being heard.

Flint unlaces his fingers and braces both on his knees. “I didn’t consider-- I’m sorry.”

Silver is still feeling the shirt, mindless and numb. Trying to form it against his skin, trying to make it into a second skin. A shelter for himself, or at least what’s unexposed and able to be hidden again.

Flint’s shirt isn’t exactly stark white. It used to be, he knew that much. It had seen its fair share of fights and fear. Flint hopes he isn’t passing any of it on to Silver, but rather a blanket of wisdom Flint himself doesn’t have but wants to offer to his friend in dear need.

Silence isn’t an option.

“How do you feel?”

Silver doesn’t stop feeling the sleeves, fingers finding the small nicked holes along the shoulder. “Awful.”

Flint pauses, but can’t for long. “Okay.”

“Everything hurts.”

“Everything?” Flint sits up, more at attention. He tries to see where it couldn’t possibly be hurting-- where else.

“I think I’ve been set on fire.” Silver mutters, his words sticking in his throat. He clears his throat, although it might’ve been another gag. “I’m burning up-- burning alive, I know it. I know I am.”

Flint hears the truth webbed in his words: once he’s burned, he’ll only be ash. he won’t come back. Flint knows the burn, one currently smoldering embers in the pit of his stomach, waiting for a winded moment of solitude to flare up and engulf him.

“I know it hurts.”

“You know. What the fuck do you know! They’ve carved me up.”

“They saved your life.”

“And I asked them not to!” Silver shouts, finally cracking. His voice quivers and his hands white-knuckle grab at his sleeves. His arms are crossed, holding everything together. “They made me into something. They should’ve left me as I was. Let that man die.”

“They didn’t make you into anything, Silver. They wanted to save the man you are.”

“Are you saying that because it’s true or because that’s what you keep telling yourself?” Silver finally looks Flint in the eye. It’s chilling, despite the fires attempting to eat them both alive, separate and unaware of the other.

“I know the man I see in front of me. He has not changed. And I won’t let him.” Flint makes the promise instinctively, uncaring to how it might sound. He knows of the fire, he knows of the burns it leaves, and is familiar with all the iterations of scars. The ones that fade and only twinge in ghostly aches. The ones that are always open and gushing. The ones that are mortal that can’t be shown beyond the safety of isolation, nursed in, and by, loneliness.

"Another task taken upon yourself without asking.”

Flint clenches his teeth and sighs. “This might be my initiative, but this requires a hell of a lot more from you. You have the say in whether or not this changes you. That fire can burn you, but it’s also only ever fueled by the same source: you. You have to decide if you want to feed that fire for the rest of your days or if you want to extinguish it. Those flames can’t fucking claim you if you tell them no.”

“Sounds a whole lot like making this my fault.” Silver snips.

“Reality has no fault. It just is,”

Flint thinks of Miranda. The reality of her death was instantaneous, though the consequences and effects slow-growing. There is no arguing, no analyzing if he could’ve possibly known of the deadly intervention taken toward her words. Flint could only watch the fire, make sure it didn’t get out of control. Or stoke it and let it consume the very last bit of reserve he’d kept.

Hope is the best gasoline.

"And this reality is one I decided against.” Silver says, his breathing labored again. “What am I now, Flint.”

His name is a sudden sharp edge to his words, nearly slicing Flint apart. It’s now not just about a man and his altered world, It’s about the small world they’d been avoiding, resting between them and hidden in the dark corners of the cabin. Silver assumes it’s been shattered, it’s broken and he’s become a singular, forgotten creature again. That all the fight ahead of him is to be done on his own.

Flint breaks and rests with his elbows on his knees. He reaches for Silver’s arm, gently pulling-- inviting him to open them again.

“What. What do you want from me.” Silver says, shoving his arms down by his sides. Flint grabs Silver’s wrist loosely, settling his own forearm into Silver’s lax hand. “What are you doing.”

“There is a ship full of men that know exactly what--who-- you are, even if you don’t.” Flint says. “I know, and would be more than willing to offer a reminder when it is required. And I am also open to corrections.”

Silver’s hand tightens around Flint’s arm. His fingers spread the fabric of his sleeve taut. He nods slowly-- almost following the rocking of the waves-- before looking out the window beside him.

“Everything hurts, Flint.” He says, words tucked against the window pane. Yet another secret for the room. “Tell me it won’t, at least not forever.”

“The hurt will stop.” Flint says. “It will stop and you will heal. Completely and wholly.”

Silver keeps his eyes on the ocean and nods again. “I’m going to be stupid enough to believe you. Don’t let me down.”

"You have my word.” Flint moves his chair closer to the bench and sits in the same beam of sun as Silver. He softens his grip and moves his thumb back and forth over the pulse point of Silver’s wrist. “And I take it you’ve given me yours.”

Silver nods again, finally heard but without a sound, and leans back on his pillows. The sun is lower on the horizon but just as glaring. It’s a kind heat, a docile fire. It encompasses them both, faces warm and pleasant. The flames are still for a moment. Everything is alive.

[ao3]

[bittykimmy13]

The Candescent King (GT Story)

Premise: Sequel to "The Clandestine Queen". Andres returns to the hotel and is forced to confront the reality of Lorelei's life as a trinket.

Hi, I am now fully obsessed with Andres and Lorelei and I would die for them.

Warnings: dehumanization and threat of sexual assault

The print / trinket universe belongs to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie​ / @marydublin5​ <3 Y’all have her to thank for the ending scene! The story almost ended much differently :’)

(( Read more about the print and trinket universe here! ))

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 He had certain expectations when he returned to the Onyx Citadel Hotel for the fourth time in two years. It was nightfall when he arrived. The lobby was decorated tastefully in black-and-white to honor the winter tournament. He headed straight for his suite rather than stop and interact with the other arriving players. As expected, the staff had already dropped off his belongings in the room.

However, she was not there.

He had known this day would come eventually, so why was there an involuntary chill running down his spine when he thought of the most obvious answer for her absence?

Moving mechanically, he went for the door. He had to be certain.

The elevator ride down, his thoughts were an odd mix of racing and frozen. He wasn't upset, he assured himself. He had no reason to be. They had both known this day would come, so why did it bother him so much? He battled his confusion as he made his way through the lobby. In the center, he saw some familiar tournament players gathered around a chessboard loaded with trinkets. He averted his eyes, striding for the front desk.

"May I help you, sir?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"Where is the trinket?"

Her friendly smile wavered with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

He sighed. "I don't recognize you. My name is Andres Soto. I have competed in the last three semi-annual tournaments. The staff knows to place the trinket known as Queenie in my room along with my luggage. But she is not there."

"Oh! Aren't you the reigning champion?" When he didn't respond, she pursed her lips and frowned in thought. "Queenie... The orange-haired gal? I apologize, sir, but she isn't available."

The chill in his spine should have dissipated now that he had an answer. But it stayed locked in place. "I see."

"Shall I put in a request at the bar to have another trinket sent to your room, Mr. Soto?"

"No." Andres started to pull away, but he supposed he owed it to Lorelei to at least ask. "Tell me what happened to her. A careless guest?"

The woman blinked, then gave a startled laugh. "She's not dead, Mr. Soto! She's just occupied."

Relief and frustration mingled in his gut. "Occupied? Why wasn't she sent to my room?"

"I'm terribly sorry. There was a massive change in management and employment in the past couple of months. I suppose whoever was making your... trinket arrangements must not have passed on the instructions. I'll be sure to let the bar and restaurant know that Queenie will be prioritized to you once she's available."

"You're going to make me wait," he deadpanned rather than asked. You know I'm the champion, and you're denying my request? He clenched his jaw to keep the comment in. It would only cause problems. His tone and expression, however, worked wonders.

Her voice became even more placating as she pointed across the lobby. "If you'd like to see her, she should be right over there," she said.

Andres shoved himself away from the front desk without another word and approached the small group gathered around the center board that had been set up. Two players, three eager observers. Plenty of room for him to see. He walked up with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the board with a sneer. He had made it a point to never be in the vicinity of a game of trinket chess, and it looked precisely the way he had imagined.

It was the most trinkets he had ever seen gathered so close together. Thirty-two were on the table, each of them scantily clothed in colors that reflected their team and designated piece. Red pawns. Yellow rooks. Green knights. Blue bishops. Purple royalty.

In no time at all, his eyes zeroed in on Lorelei. She was the queen, naturally, wearing sheer black lingerie with purple accents.

And she spotted him, too. He suspected she would be smart and pretend not to recognize him, but to his surprise, she threw a minuscule hand over her head and waved it enthusiastically. Her stance was unsteady, a carefree grin plastered on her face.

Drunk.

"Hey!" she called. "Tall, dark, and scary! Hi! I had a dream about you the other night!"

Very drunk.

The players and the small audience followed her gaze with confusion. Their eyes widened when they realized who had come to observe them. He gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment, ignoring Lorelei's whoops for attention.

"Gentlemen," he murmured.

"Soto." Theo Jackson, the man playing black, did not bother hiding the irk on his face. Andres couldn't blame him; coming in 2nd place twice in a row did that to a person. "Thought you'd decide this little tournament was below your rating by now. What are you still doing, coming back here?"

Andres shrugged. "I like to win. But don't mind me. Carry on."

They settled back into the game. He tried to watch with a neutral expression, but at least any visible disgust on his face was to be expected from him. Lorelei was a mess, nearly stumbling into the neighboring square every time the board was jostled by the players' movements. The bishop beside her kept grabbing her arm to steady her.

The trinkets were plucked up and moved like pieces. Each one of them looked either frightened or entirely checked-out. But when they were captured by the opposing side and taken off the board, their relief was visible. That was, except for the pieces Jackson captured. His hands had a tendency to wander to his captured pieces while he thought of his next move.

Being the queen, Lorelei was likely to be in the game for the long haul. Andres thought about walking away. The front desk woman had promised the trinket would be delivered to him later, but something kept him rooted there. It was a strange stab of betrayal, having gotten to know her and now seeing her debase herself. It wasn't her fault, but he had the urge to correct obscenity nonetheless. Especially considering how hell-bent she seemed on getting herself killed.

"Psst." She turned around and waved both hands up at Jackson. "Listen! You've got an opening right there, and you don't see it, do you? You're blowing it. Move me to A4, c'mon!"

"Shut the fuck up." Jackson forcefully turned her back around and flicked her between the shoulder blades, sending her onto her hands and knees.

The bishop gasped and leaned down to check if she was alright.

"No, don't help her," Jackson snapped. The bishop straightened immediately. "Little bitch needs to learn her place."

Lorelei's shoulders wracked and she caught her breath. Andres was a live wire of tension, trying to talk himself down from lunging in and taking her away. The tension eased as she stood up and rolled her shoulders as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the player on white looked remarkably nervous, staring at the board and obviously mapping out the plan Lorelei had offered.

Jackson went quiet, doing the same. Then he snorted, "Whaddaya know." He plucked up Lorelei and moved her to A6. The game was over in less than three moves after that.

Lorelei was the piece to catch the king in checkmate. She skipped over and looped her arm in his, raising her eyebrows at Jackson. "See? What did I tell you?"

"That's not right," the other player spat. "You had help!"

Jackson scoffed. "As if this was a real match. Besides, are you insinuating that a fucking trinket helped me? I was going to move her there anyway."

"Fuck you, I was about to have you cornered." The other player stood up and stormed off. He wouldn't last long in the tournament with a blatant temper like that.

"Who's next?" Jackson declared.

"I am," Andres said before anyone had time to take a breath.

He slid into the seat, glancing down as the pieces dutifully rearranged themselves where they belonged. Lorelei stumbled back to her spot and smiled right at him. At least she didn't wave or yell for him. He had seen her on a board plenty of times, facing him, but never like this. He could see the trinkets on his side casting wary glances up over their shoulders at him, trying to get a read on their current master. One split second of eye contact was all it took to make them face forward again.

Lorelei, in her idiotic state, turned to face Jackson and planted a hand on her hip. "I hope you're ready to get your ass whupped," she said.

His expression darkened, and Andres wouldn't have been surprised if she was broken in half right then and there. But Jackson slid a smirk to Andres. "Am I sensing some history here? Oh, Soto. You've always acted like some kind of moral paragon. No wonder you turn down every drink with a trinket. You've only got eyes for this little bite, huh?"

Andres regarded him coolly. "She was delivered to my room one night against my wishes and has plagued me ever since. Are we playing or not?"

"No one's stopping you from starting."

Sighing, Andres leaned forward and studied the untouched board. He knew Jackson's strategies well enough to put him away swiftly, but he would need a different approach this time. His hand automatically reached for the board, but he paused when he remembered these were not carved pieces of wood. Hiding a wince, he tapped one of the pawns on the back. The young man spun around and looked up, eyes wide under Andres' shadow.

"You, move to E4," Andres ordered.

The pawn swallowed hard. "I-I'm sorry, I-I don't know where—"

Gathering nonexistent patience, Andres tapped the board. "Move here. Two spaces forward."

The pawn hurried to obey, eyes trained down.

Despite his attempts to focus on the game itself, Andres couldn't help but wonder what each of the white pieces on his board had done to land their fate. Murderers, traitors, those who had no place in society. He glanced across the board at Lorelei, who was swaying to music that wasn't there. She perked up when they locked gazes, and he was almost saddened by the strange hope in her eyes. With her inhibitions decimated, it was all too clear how much she trusted him.

He glanced at the pieces on the board again and wondered, How many innocents?

His thoughts shattered when Jackson snatched up a pawn of his own without warning, seeming to savor the way the girl whimpered and squirmed in the tight pinch of his fingers.

"Settle down, darling," he crooned. "You're expendable. The game will be over for you soon." When he set her down on the board, she hugged her arms and trembled, tears streaking down her face.

Andres tore his eyes away from her. Nothing he could do.

He made foolish moves from then on, but they were perfectly calculated. His primary goal for once was not to win; he only wished to capture the queen. It was child's play to reach Lorelei, considering any player's strategy would focus on protecting the king. He ordered the pieces where to go, pointing and nudged if he needed to. When he captured Jackson's pieces, he made them walk to him rather than snatching them up.

Jackson smirked each time Andres refused to grab the trinkets, making a show of picking up his own pieces and taking an unreasonable amount of time to decide his move. He held them in his palm, toyed with him while deep in thought.

Finally, Andres captured Lorelei. He had to resist the urge to pluck her up. Jackson would undoubtedly notice the special treatment.

"Come over here," Andres said, beckoning her to move among the other pawns and the knight he had captured.

"Yessir." She pranced over to him, giving a clumsy twirl and making a rude gesture at Jackson so that only Andres could see it. She took a seat behind his side of the board, and he paid no mind to the triumphant smile she aimed up at him.

His next strategy was to make it a point to capture as many pieces as possible. Once he had a small crowd of black pieces on his side of the table, it was easy enough to discreetly drop a hand over Lorelei and sweep her away from the others. He moved her to his lap under the table. With people watching around him, slipping her into his pocket would be too noticeable. He let her go on his thigh, praying she wasn't foolishly drunk enough to fall off. He could feel her tiny weight, along with the slightest tremble. Not from fear, though—he had a feeling she was giggling to herself.

From then on, it was business as usual. He managed to corner Jackson and capture the king despite his seemingly sloppy plays at the beginning. With the queen gone, anyway, there was hardly a contest.

Huffing, Jackson glared at what remained of his chess pieces, as if they had anything to do with his loss. Then he turned that irked look to Andres. "You really shouldn't be here," Jackson said. "You know you're gonna clean up. Give someone else a chance, would you?"

"Maybe you should work on your strategies," Andres returned.

Before Jackson could snap back, someone from the group piped up, "Mr. Soto, can I play a round with you?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to my room to relax before the opening social." He cupped a hand around Lorelei so that she smoothly fell into his palm when he stood. He strode away, arm relaxed at his side, and his fist closely loosely.

He waited by the elevators until he could catch one alone. When the doors were sealed, he lifted his hand and unfurled his fingers enough to see her. Lorelei sat up and leaned back on her hands, a flirtatious smile on her lips that was entirely unlike her—at least when she was with him.

"Hello again," she slurred. "My hero."

"You're drunk," he said. "How disappointing. I was hoping we could play a few matches tonight." He shook his head, observing her unfocused eyes. "It would not be fair to you."

She waved a hand at him. "Ah, don't be so dramatic. I was on bar duty before the tournament players started arriving. I'm fine."

The elevator came to a stop. Lorelei scrambled to the edge of Andres' hand and vomited over the side. Some landed on his shoe. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled sheepishly at his unimpressed expression.

"My bad," she said. "I swear I wasn't aiming there."

Breathing out sharply, he exited the elevator and headed for his suite. He took her straight to the lounger by the coffee table, laying out a pillow and setting her down on it.

"Sleep it off, Señorita Lorelei. I have a social I must attend. Will you be fine in three hours?"

"Probably." She stretched her arms over her head and laid asprawl. "And for the thousandth time, call me Lore."

Despite the state she was in, he imagined she wouldn't stay drunk for long. Trinkets rose back to soberness much quicker than natural people. Andres wasn't sure if it was an automatic side effect of their size or an intentional feature of their engineering to ensure they couldn't soothe themselves with inebriation for too long.

He stepped into the bedroom to change his shoes. As he headed back for the door to leave, she waved her hand to get his attention.

"No blanket?" She pouted. "I'm cold, you monster."

He rolled his eyes. "Shall I tuck you in and sing you a lullaby, too? You are demanding tonight."

"That's what you get for treating me like a person, Señor Andres. Now I've got all these sick and dangerous thoughts in my head about wanting to be comfortable."

"Well, stop it."

"No, sir. They're my sick and dangerous thoughts, and you can't take them away. Besides, you owe me."

He dug through one of his bags beside the coffee table until he found a silk handkerchief. "I saved you," he pointed out.

"Out of the kindness of your heart? Please. You owe me because you're going to get me in trouble, making me magically vanish like that. In fact, I'm sure there is sheer chaos downstairs over a kidnapped queen. They'll think I'm a runner."

"I'll tell the front desk I collected you." He braced his hands on either side of the cushion and leaned over her. "Would you like to write a script for me? Should I say you are too enchanting to resist, and I needed you all to myself tonight?" He dropped the handkerchief over her.

She squirmed under the fabric until she found her way out—which took twice as long as it should have. "Perfect, couldn't have scripted it better myself. Try to sound like you mean it, though." He snorted and started to pull away. "Wait!" she said. "Speaking of saving me. Can I tell you about the dream I had about you? Very quick."

He sighed. "What?"

"I dreamed..." She lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean closer. "That you stole me away from here. And we played chess day and night. And you still never beat me. It was lovely."

He didn't know how to feel or what to say. She had never been like this. Never said anything like this. And the way she looked at him... Her little eyes bright and naive over the edge of his handkerchief. He did not enjoy this drunken version of Lorelei Weaver. Not in the slightest.

"Sleep it off," he murmured again. "I want you ready to play when I get back." Then he made his escape.

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The moment she started to come to, her face flushed. She couldn't remember everything with clarity, but she remembered enough to be embarrassed. Groaning low in her throat, she sat up and used the corner of the handkerchief to wipe the dry crust from the corner of her lips. Maybe if Andres wasn't too disgusted with her, she could wheedle a drop of mouthwash from him.

Footsteps thudded toward the room. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been roughly three hours since she passed out. Straightening her back, she smoothed her hair down and folded her hands on her lap. Although her head was clear, it ached.

"Oh, good," she said when Andres stalked into the room. "I thought I had only hallucinated seeing your grumpy face. How bad was the social? Did they make you..." She shuddered dramatically. "Mingle?"

"Well, you clearly feel better." He approached the lounger and didn't bother kneeling for her sake. He never did. More of the looming type. "What did you think you were doing, getting drunk like that?"

A faint, scalding smile perked on her lips. "I was forced to. The guest I was lucky enough to get saddled with likes his trinkets good and giddy. Is that fair enough for you?"

"Fair enough." His expression didn't change, other than something at the back of his eyes that was too far away to see. "It's good that you're fine now. They want to see you downstairs at the bar to make sure you have not escaped." His hand dove for her.

"Wait!" she cried. He paused, frowning. "I've had enough today. I'm not in the mood to be manhandled any more. Can't you... lay your hand down or something?"

"Why?"

"Easier on my ribs and my ego, believe it or not." She pressed her lips into a tight line and glowered straight up at him. "Doesn't seem like too much to ask for you to lay your damn hand down."

Looking like a kid forced to eat his vegetables, he dropped his hand beside her. She climbed on, and he swept her up not a moment after she settled. She grabbed at his fingers to keep from tumbling off. Already she missed the safety of the handkerchief, but the warmth of his skin was a fair substitute.

They didn't speak as he took her downstairs to the bar, where a few players were sipping on drinks, laughing, cutting up. She adopted her usual pose on her knees, shoulders back, eyes down. From her glances, she recognized a few of the players—both from her days as a human and from her evening of being their queen piece in the lobby.

"Here she is," Andres said to the bartender. "Satisfied?" He thrust her out in his open palm.

The bartender lurched back, looking from Lorelei to Andres, stammering. "I'll get the manager. Would you like a drink while you wait, Mr. Soto?"

"No."

As the bartender walked off, the man seated closest scoffed. "Well, that's a damn shame."

Theo Jackson. Lorelei kept her head turned away as if there was any hope that he might not recognize her.

Apparently tired of holding her, Andres lowered her to the bar counter. She nearly asked him to pluck her right back up, ribs and ego or not. She couldn't help but look at Jackson, going cold at the lust in his eyes as he tipped back his drink and reached for the other that had been laid out for him.

"What shame?" Andres asked boredly. She wanted to scream at him for indulging Jackson.

Jackson pointed at her with the hand that held his scotch. "Pretty little thing like that, and you don't even have a drink to put her in. I knew you swiped her. Figured you'd at least be putting her to good use."

"Mr. Soto." A woman interrupted, approaching from the other side of the bar and putting her hand out to shake. Andres had to step to the side to reach her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, about the trinket. An employee is retrieving a case. You are welcome to enjoy your regular trinket during your stay, but it's required that she remain in the case when you're not around—"

"Yes, yes, I know the rules."

Despite that, she went on. Lorelei edged closer to where Andres had moved, feeling exposed. A second after the dreadful sensation came over her, a hand shot across the bar and snatched her up. Jackson covered her scream before she could let it loose, bringing her further down the bar, further from Andres. He hushed her gently, pinning her to the counter and keeping her muzzled. His fingers were cold from the chilled glass.

"What's the trouble, darling?" His voice was much sweeter now that he wasn't playing chess. "Soto doesn't know how to treat you right. And you've got my attention. Isn't that wasn't you wanted, pulling that cool little move during my game?" He brushed a fingertip along her side, controlling her with only one hand while the other lifted the drink to his lips for another sip. "You must get played with a lot at these tournaments to know the game so well."

While she squirmed and tried to buck her way free, he leaned down closer. The stench of whiskey wafted around her.

"Why don't we go up to my room, and I show you a thing or two in return?"

He reached under her lingerie. She bit the fingertip covering her mouth. It was barely anything, but he flinched all the same and allowed her to scream.

"Stop!" she yelped.

"What are you doing?" Andres barked.

A shadow descended upon them. The drink was swiped to the ground, Andres' hand crashing into it like a freight train. Glass shattered. The pressure of Jackson's hand vanished. Lorelei scrambled backward on her hands and rear, gasping for breath as she watched Andres and Jackson come to blows.

Jackson shoved Andres into the bar, making it rattle like an earthquake. Lorelei ducked down and covered her head, peeking over her knees as Andres landed a brutal punch to Jackson's stomach.

"Stop!" the manager screamed, backing away to the other side of the bar. "Stop now! Or we'll get security! You'll be arrested!"

Andres grabbed the front of Jackson's shirt and then shoved him away, seething.

Coughing, Jackson leaned on the bar. "What are you, a fucking sympathizer?" he spat, face contorting with disgust.

"Not in the slightest," Andres growled. "But she is mine."

"Mr. Soto," the manager said in a quavering voice. "You could be disqualified—"

"No," Jackson said. "No. I'm not pressing charges or reporting this or anything. I wanna face this fucker during the finals."

A very confused-looking hotel employee walked up holding a glass trinket case. Andres pulled away from the bar and snatched the case before reaching for Lorelei. There was no waiting for her to climb on this time. He closed her in a fist and stormed off. Even over the sound of his footsteps, Lorelei heard the manager offer Jackson a complimentary trinket for his troubles.

All the way to the room, Andres did not lift his fist from his side. She couldn't help but tremble, replaying the events of the fight over and over in her mind. These weren't the carefully calculated moves of a chess game; this was chaos. Utter chaos that she had never expected to manifest in him. She had gotten so used to his collected prowess on the board that she hadn't imagined what he could do in a physical fight.

He entered his suite and put her down on the lounger. She wasn't surprised at all when he immediately began setting up his chessboard on the coffee table. She would have asked him to do it if he hadn't.

"One match before bed," he said. "I need to rest before the first round tomorrow."

Lorelei stayed quiet, hugging her knees as she watched him arrange the pieces. With each clack of wood on the board, she pictured him driving his fists into Jackson. He glanced at her every few seconds, looking like he was working himself up to say something. Then he would think better of it.

Finally, when the board was ready, he spoke.

"Did I frighten you?" he asked without the smallest measure of apology.

"Does it matter?"

"Are you too distracted to play?"

"Never."

"Then it does not matter."

He walked around the coffee table to the lounger and reached for her. He stopped short and turned his hand over beside her, offering his palm instead. She chuckled mirthlessly and scooted over to climb on. "Well, look at that. He can be taught."

She took the white team and started the game. In no time, she felt at home among the light-up squares and smooth wooden pieces. There was no rust to shake off from her strategy. No uncertainty. Since his second visit, she had been given a reason to keep her chess mind sharp.

He, however, was the one who seemed distracted as she paced around the pieces. She was well on her way to beating him in less than twenty-five moves.

"Your move," she declared when his expression stayed distant for too long.

He blinked at her, then pushed a hand up his face with a heavy sigh. "Lorelei..."

"Lore."

"Lore. When I said you were mine..." He heaved another sigh. "I want to make something perfectly clear. I hope you don't really have any fanciful ideas about me taking you away from here. I will not put myself at risk like that."

She pursed her lips and pointed at the board. "Your move."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. "Listen to me, Lore. This is the last time you'll see me here. You understand?"

She did understand. She understood that this was the first time he had seen her life outside the safety that his visits provided. She understood that he had seen the aftermath of a regular afternoon on bar duty for her. She understood that he had seen what people like Jackson did when they got their hands on her. She understood that none of it was enough to make him take the risk for her.

"This tournament is far below your rating," she said, folding her hands behind her back and strolling along the edge of the board away from him. She peeked back over her shoulder. "I was surprised you showed up at all."

"I have you to thank for my improved rating. But you are correct. I have no business at this tournament anymore."

She turned around, wishing so badly that this didn't hurt the way it did. "Then why are you here?"

His eye contact did not waver. He straightened up and looked down at her. "Because you are the best I've played in my life. Perhaps the best I ever will play. I am determined to beat you before the tournament is over. I have lost sleep over you, Señorita Lorelei. I would like to sleep soundly again. Please don't ruin it with your fanciful thoughts."

"They're my fanciful thoughts, Señor Andres. And you can't take them away. They're all I have." She pointed at the board once more, determined to memorize every last turn of their final games together. "Your move."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ * 

The morning after the tournament finals, Lorelei awoke unsure of her surroundings. She wasn't in the hotel room. Not in the cylindrical container the staff supplied Andres. She should have awoken to the sound of housekeeping knocking at the door, but instead she heard a cacophony of voices.

Motion caught her attention. Swaying. Footsteps.

Realizing she was in a pocket, she all but shot to her feet to get a look at who was holding her. Had Andres left her outside the room for some random guest to sweep up and torment? That didn't seem like him, even if he had been particularly sulky during their last night together when he still failed to beat her.

Bracing herself, she peeked up from the coat.

A familiar face. His dark eyes shot from the phone in his hand to the fact poking out of his jacket. Andres shot her a sharp look, then typed away at his phone. He lowered it enough for her to see.

"Don't get excited. This is not a rescue, I'm stealing a private tutor."

She had only half a second to read it before his hand filled her vision. He pushed her back down, one finger pressing her belly as if to tell her stay. Then his hand withdrew, and his steps resumed. Her heart hammered as the sound of an airline announcement caught her ear.

Finally, he had made a move she did not predict.