#plainly speaking it could be the best thing we both could do to establish a secure communication comprehension

[aothotties]

Dont Piss Me Off- Sukuna

📸:villain_lady on IG

pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

CW: established relationship, angry sex, rough sex, cnc kinda???, ass/pussy slapping, dom!sukuna, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions breeding, pet names, lil tiny fluff at the end

wc: 1.8k

You tried your best to stay calm but the fact that you spent the whole day cleaning the house while your boyfriend, Sukuna, did nothing had your blood boiling 

He typically helped and you both split the chores evenly but today he played his game the whole. Fucking. Day

Tears stung your eyes as you continued folding laundry. You wanted to walk into the room so bad, tear the game off the dresser, and toss it out the window but you knew the best thing to do was to try and talk it out calmly 

After you finished the laundry you walked in the room and decided to confront him

“Sukuna, we need to talk” you said with your arms crossed

He didn't even look away from his game to acknowledge you

“Im serious we need to talk,now” you raised your voice as you spoke 

“Yeah okay, in a minute Y/N i'm in the middle of this right now” he said as he continued to stare at the screen in front of him. 

That shit pushed you to your breaking point. After working hard all day making sure your house is spotless he had the audacity to brush you off??

“See this is the shit I'm talking about. Fuck you ,Sukuna, you do nothing but piss me off” you stated plainly even though you were fighting back tears

He finally looked up from the game and shit you a puzzled look. He was shocked to hear you cursing at him, something you rarely ever did.

You were glad that he was finally acknowledging you but the fact that it took you getting loud made you even angrier.

“You're pathetic. You seriously mean to tell me I have to talk to you like this to get your attention? Fucking ridiculous”

You turned to leave to room so you could take a minute to breathe but sukuna stood up and grabbed your arm

“What's your problem?” he asked while he held onto you 

“Don't touch me!” you yelled as you tried to push him with your free hand 

He quickly grabbed your other arm and lightly pinned both of them to your side so you couldn't move. You tried to get out of his grasp but he was too strong. You sighed in defeat and looked up at your boyfriend, tears running down your face 

“I have spent the whole entire day cleaning” you said between sniffs, “and not once did you get off your stupid game to help me”

“Why didn't you just ask me to help” he asked bluntly and shrugged his shoulders

His response did nothing but bring back your anger. You couldn't stand how nonchalant he was being. 

You tried getting out of his grip again and tried to push him away 

“The fuck off me suku-”

“Stop talking to me like that” he said, cutting you off

“No, you made me mad. You didn't do shit all day now you're acting like it's not a big deal. Boy fuck you!” you said angrily 

“Y/N” he spoke softly, “i'm going to ask you one more time to not talk to me like that. We can talk about this calm-”

It was now your turn to cut him off 

“Fuck talking calm! I tried coming in here to talk to you calmly and you ignored me. Now that I gotta get loud it's an issue? I dont give a fuck i really dont”

Sukuna looked down at you and clenched his jaw. The grip he had on both of your wrists tightened and he used his body to press you against the wall.

He hated when you talked to him like this. It was the one thing that he hated the most about you fighting with him. Cursing in your everyday talk never bothered him but cursing at him? He hated it 

He dropped one of your wrists and grabbed your jaw to force you to look up at him.

“I just told you not to curse at me but you still do it” he said through clenched teeth

“And I told you I don't care,” you mumbled. It was hard for you to speak with his hand on your jaw 

The grip tightened and you knew you wouldn't be able to respond anymore. You tried pushing him off you one more time but to no avail. Your large boyfriend was not budging.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened and he sighed out in frustration 

“You just can't listen, can you? You refuse to talk to me in a calm manner and now it’s come to this” he moved his face closer to yours as he spoke 

“Get on the bed right now” he commanded 

You tried to speak to say no but the grip he still held on your jaw made it impossible. You shook your head no and never broke eye contact with him.

No matter the circumstance you loved challenging Sukuna. You always liked to see how far you could push him.

He wasn't in the mood for your shit. He took your arm and dragged you to the bed and threw your body onto it as if you were a ragdoll.

“Don't piss me off Y/N” he said aggressively 

Your anger turned to lust and all your feelings rushed to your cunt. He had pissed you off by ignoring you but your attitude pissed him off even more and you knew exactly what you were going to get in return.

Sukuna flipped you onto your stomach and crawled over you. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it so that you were looking up at him 

“You know i don't like when you don't listen, Y/N” he said to you 

“And i don't care” you said back, knowing it would push him over the edge  

He kissed his teeth and pushed your head down. He got off the bed and removed his shorts and briefs. His hard dick sprung out and you squirmed in anticipation of what was about to happen to your body.

He harshly smacked your ass causing it to sting.

 “stop moving” he said before grabbing your shorts and pulling them off in one swift motion, taking your soaking wet panties off with them.

He roughly grabbed your hips and lifted your ass in the air. Your pussy was on full display in front of him. He could see just how wet you were as your pussy throbbed around nothing 

He gave your cunt a harsh smack and you hissed from the pain mixed with pleasure.

Sukuna got back on the bed behind you and lined his bright pink tip with your needy hole. 

He shoved his whole length in you, not even giving you a chance to adjust to his size. He groaned as he quickly bottomed out.He wasted no time and began fucking you harshly. His hips slapped hard against your ass with each thrust. 

Your walls were clenching around him causing him to moan. You were a mess under him 

“Su-sukuna, fuck!” you whined out 

Your moans were answered with yet another hard smack on your ass, you were sure it would leave a print

“Don't speak, i don't want to hear your voice again” he said as he fucked into you harder 

The large vein that ran down the length of his thick shaft was rubbing you in that sweet spot that drove you insane 

You continually fought the urge to whine and tell your boyfriend how close you are. You felt your body get hot and your climax grew deeper in your core. 

Your whole body shook as you reached your climax. You wanted to scream but your very mean boyfriend already told you not to speak and you can't imagine the punishment you’d receive if you disobeyed him.

You let out a small whimper as you reached the end of your orgasm. Sukuna laughed at how you were shaking and whining.

He aggressively grabbed your body and flipped you onto your back. He grabbed your thighs and pushed them up to your chest then slid his dick back into your aching cunt 

You bit your lip to try and stop your moans but he leaned down right above your face

“Go ahead mama, you can whine for me” he spoke before placing a sloppy kiss on your lips 

“Daddy, right there!” you whined out. Your boyfriend was hitting your sweet spot again and you knew you would cum quickly for him again

One thing about sukuna, he made sure you always had more than one orgasm for him.

He pressed his weight onto you and shoved his dick in you deeper. His tip was abusing your cervix 

“d-daddy , i can't take it!”, tears formed in your eyes as you looked up at him, hoping he’d give your body some mercy 

“Now the little princess can't take it,hm? The way you were talking earlier made me think you could take it. Where's that attitude now baby?” his voice was low as he hovered right above your face 

No matter how much you begged Sukuna didn't let up one bit. He continued to give your cunt deep, hard strokes. You whined and cried under him and it gave him motivation to keep going 

You felt your orgasm building once again, “im so close daddy” you cried out

“Mhm mama cum for daddy”, he groaned in response 

Your legs shook violently as you came undone for your boyfriend. His strokes became erratic meaning he was nearing his own climax

“Want me to fuck a baby into you?” he asked as he started speeding up 

He knew you were on birth control but you both loved the idea of breeding when you were having sex. You loved the way it feels when he fills you up

You nodded in response to his question. He leaned down and gave you a messy kiss. His tongue intertwined with yours and he groaned in your mouth.

Sukuna reached his climax and shot hot ropes into you. He put your legs down and slowly slid out of you 

He laid next to you and wrapped his arms around your body as you both came down from your high.

He placed a soft kiss on your temple, “im sorry baby i was distracted by my game and completely let it slip my mind that today is cleaning day” he pulled you in closer and placed more kisses all over your face 

He then got up out of the bed and slipped his clothes back on. He walked back over to the bed and put the blanket on you 

“Just lay down okay, I'll put away all the laundry and wash the dishes. You want korean bbq tonight?”

“Yes please. And i'm sorry for yelling at you” you said as you looked at him with a sad expression 

“It’s okay mama I should have listened” he leaned over and gave you a kiss then he left the room and closed the door behind him as he walked out 

You laid in bed and dozed off as your boyfriend finished the chores.

Rachel

[thewitchblue]

Cass found you healing. There was something about you that healed a part of her that nobody else ever could. Maybe it was her mummy issues, or maybe it was genuinely your loving personality; either way, it didn't matter. You were soothing and patient with her. You even taught her how to speak, read, and write.

She came to the startling realisation she loved you at her family Christmas gathering. You weren't just a friend. You had stopped being a friend in her mind long ago, but she never addressed those feelings. It was safer to keep it all bottled up. She would come back to it another day, like rejecting a phone update until it finally automatically updates. She'll deal with it eventually.

Well, eventually happened.

It started when Steph and Babs both made a joke about the two of you being a lesbian couple. Cass and you both froze in place. Neither of you knew what to do, but your gay panic barrelled through you like a gun to your head.

You had quickly signed something Cass couldn't catch to Steph, who paled and also began to slightly panic. What started as an innocent joke suddenly became a massive plot twist between the two.

Steph. Was. Mortified. She would later brag she is the reason you two got together and that she saw it all along (falsely, as well), but that moment had her horrified. She did not anticipate that she would ever have to deal with this being a possibility. Girls are always close. Why would you two be any different?

She had to wheel Babs far, far away, and have a panicked conversation, which Helena joined in as well with wide eyes.

Barbara was on the gay train immediately and was coming up with plans and bouncing ideas off of the other girls. What do they do? Does Cass know? Is Cass gay? Their heads were spinning. She hadn't considered that any of them could be gay. Well, except Tim, but his relationship with Kon has been so well-established that they don't feel like a gay couple anymore.

Helena "what do you mean she's gay" Wayne was floored. Now she was invested. She needed to study you both before deciding if this was an actual thing yet or not.

The girls all watched you two carefully. Tim joined in quickly as he understood and also became invested. He dragged Kon into it, too, but told him to let the detectives work after Kon complained and told them to leave you two alone.

You tried to act oblivious to their obvious growing group staring you both down. Not cool, Steph.

You glared at Steph, who looked away but looked back again once your gaze was back on Cass. Your gaze softened as you looked at Cass. Your sweet, beautiful, best friend. You'd give anything for her.

Cass was incredibly confused, but she was happy. She wanted to cuddle on the coach, and you laughed your agreement. This was the moment she knew she had feelings for you: cuddling on the coach, watching a terrible Christmas movie, and having hushed conversations with you. You both had content smiles on your faces.

She had blushed hard when you kissed her forehead, but she looked at you like Cupid just hit her with an arrow, and you looked at her like she held your heart in her hands.

The girls (plus Tim and an uninterested Kon) needed to strike. How? Mistletoe? There was no guarantee you wouldn't cop-out and kiss her cheek. They didn't know. They asked Tim how he managed to date Kon, and he shrugged,

"I decided we're dating one day, and then we started dating. I suspect M'gann did something, but I don't know."

Kon shook his head, but he didn't know either, so he let Tim's explanation go by without comment. Tim gave a thoughtful expression. He didn't know what they should do. Kon said plainly,

"We could tell Jason to force them to kiss."

Jason narrowed his eyes at the group. He heard his name amongst the growing group of siblings despite being on the other side of the room.

"What are you idiots scheming?"

He actively had to walk past you and Cass to join the group, but as he passed, he, too, noticed the cuddling duo. He stared for a moment before you tell him to fuck off and he heads back to his scheming siblings.

"We're trying to get these two together. Can you help us?"

Jason crossed his arms while casting his gaze back to you both. He took note how at peace Cass seemed in your arms. She seemed serene and the way she looked at you... Well, it looks like she's in love.

Jason gave a resigned sigh. Even he can see the clear love and devotion.

"What do you need me to do?"

He tried to look disgruntled, but he couldn't hide how curious he was. He watched his siblings carefully. What are they thinking?

"It's not a good idea. Kon wanted to make you force them to kiss. He doesn't trust his superstrength."

Kon shrugged. He's not the brains when it comes to human interactions. Tim and him are both awkward and he struggles with what's normal still.

They watched Cass giggle as you rolled her on top of you for her to sleep. You smiled fondly and gave her a quick forehead kiss. She blushed with a grin on her face. Friends kiss, right? You run your hands along her back and whisper to her,

"I got you."

The evening was surprisingly quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Your eyes landed on the group gathering and narrowed in suspicion. Almost everyone was gathered now and whispering with quick glances your way.

Cass felt so at ease. It was like her heart beat your name. She did consider that you might be more than a friend, but she didn't know how you felt. Sure, you kissed her and cuddled her whenever she asked and you were always respectful by asking before touching her, but you were so close that it makes sense how you'd act. She said in a small voice,

"I have a question."

She took a deep breath to steady her voice, burying her face in your neck. She doesn't want to see your face when you end the friendship.

"Are we... more than friends?"

The silence she received concerned her. She pulled away and looked at you anxiously. After another pause, you asked,

"Would you want to be more than friends?"

Cass nodded. She isn't sure she'd ever survive without your soft forehead kisses and cuddling feels so right. You smiled at her and said in a cheeky tone,

"I guess we're dating then, Miss Cain."

Cass immediately kissed you. You were her salvation and her inner peace. It felt amazing to kiss you like girlfriends. It felt like she could fully relax now that the uncertainty was removed.

The kiss was long and full of love. It spoke all the words she never said and all the pining you both had for each other.

When you pulled back, you both giggled. Your hushed confession of love was for only her ears, but that didn't stop the rest of them trying to listen.

Cass was equally quiet as she whispered to you,

"I love you. You're my saviour."

You kissed her again and raised your middle finger to the group you knew were watching. You love this woman with everything in your heart.

Dick had no clue. He came out from the kitchen with Alfred and both men stopped as they saw the scene. You and Cass kissing, a large group trying (and failing) to pretend they aren't watching. You gave them the middle finger after a while of staring and a couple of photos taken.

Alfred looked relieved, but Dick felt betrayed. Cass never told him she's gay. He's the first one everyone goes to for their problems and secrets. He knew Tim was bisexual long before everybody else, he knows Jason reads fanfiction (he snooped on his phone and found Wattpad downloaded), he knows Damian has hidden a pet fox in his room, he knows everything about everyone except Cass. Cass never went to him, and she rarely caused trouble (that she gets caught doing). Why didn't she want to tell him she's gay? Did she not know until you?

Bruce came down the stairs and also took in the scene. He had a feeling he had more gay kids. He wasn't sure who it was, but it makes sense that it would be Cass. She kept all her cards to her chest, only revealing things as needed. He should have seen it sooner.

Neither of you cared what the family thought. It was only putting a label on mutual feelings that were ignored for far too long.

[ibvix]

LOVE PULP FICTION !!! A MILLION THANKS FOR SHARING THIS REVERED AND LOVED STANDARD ON THE SUBJECT !!!

"THE FLOWER OF YOUTH" COMMUNES WITH THE SYSTEMIC OVERSATURATION OF WOODSTOCK'S LOOS AND THE ENSUING MUD SLIDING, THEREBY DESPOILING THE PURITY AND THE DELICATENESS OF YOUTH'S PRECIOUS FLOWER !!!

The Flower of Youth

[seriouslysnape]

Miscommunication (pt.2)

James Potter x Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Poly! relationship. 

A/N: Part 1 is here!

Word Count: 3,376

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

It had been three weeks since you had stormed out of the boys’ dorm in a scurry of anger. It had also been three weeks since you had touched, talked to, or even spared Sirius a passing glance. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even exist. Despite your dramatic exit, Sirius was confident that you’d crack soon enough and come running back to him, begging for forgiveness. But the more time that passed, the more that he was beginning to realize that might not be the case.

In a general sense, life continued on as it always had. You walked through the Hogwarts’ corridors with the three Gryffindors, laughing at James’ jokes and blushing red under Remus’ kisses. You gave all your love and time to James and Remus, not offering Sirius a drop of your attention. 

He tried to ignore it. He tried to brush it off like it didn’t bother him and like it didn’t make a difference whether you were with him or not. His attempts to drown you out the way you had been drowning him out were successful at first, but it only took about a week for him to realize how much this was killing him.

In the mornings, you woke James or Remus up (depending on whose bed you slept in the night before) with bubbly kisses and sweet giggles, something that you had always done for all three of the boys’ wake up calls. Sirius had gone almost 23 days (but not like he was COUNTING or anything) since he had any kind of interaction with you.

No cuddles.

No hugs.

No kisses.

Nothing.

The whole situation put James and Remus into a bit of an awkward position. You were on great terms with the two of them, considering they hadn’t insulted you and invalidated your feelings right in your face. This was a difficult challenge to tackle, because they felt guilty for continuing to love up on you when Sirius wasn’t getting his usual share. This was a rather particular arrangement that had taken lots of trial and error to make the right adjustments. Now that the balance had been thrown off, the whole thing didn’t feel right.

James and Remus had both tried to convince you to talk things out with Sirius. They knew that deep down this wasn’t what you wanted, and things couldn’t go on like this forever. James and Remus knew Sirius better than anybody. They were fully aware that Sirius was regretting what he had done and was kicking himself for it...even if Sirius wouldn’t show it or admit to it. 

Sirius was beginning to lose precious sleep over this. He tossed and turned in his bed that had grown so lonely without you. His arms felt so empty not being wrapped around you, holding you snugly to his body. Suddenly, he didn’t have anyone to help him with his Potions homework or someone to remind him about his Transfiguration exam coming up. He didn’t have the girl that completed the complex puzzle that was Sirius Black. He felt so unfinished without you.

He missed you.

But his pride was winning out.

“How’s the brat today?” Sirius questioned dryly, not even looking up from his Herbology textbook in his lap.

“Sirius.” Remus and James echoed, clearly displeased at Sirius’ cold name for you.

Over the last three weeks, Sirius would ask about you when you weren’t around and he was alone with the boys. He would ask how you were doing, but what he really wanted to know was if you had said anything about him or given any indications that you were close to giving in. James and Remus were growing impatient with Sirius. They had tried to step back, allowing both yourself and Sirius to have time to allow your fog of frustration to air out. They had hoped that Sirius would come around to realize that he had been wrong in all kinds of ways, and you both could work it out on your own.

Between stepping all over your feelings like they were a sidewalk and calling you a bitch for being rightfully upset, Sirius had one too many strikeouts on his record.

“What? If she’s going to act like a child, then I’ll treat her like one.” Sirius growled.

James crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair that he was sitting in by the common room’s fireplace. Remus watched the two of them from over the rim of his cup that contained his favorite hot tea. 

“She’s hurt, Sirius. You hurt her,” James snarled, eyebrows furrowed in agitation, “I don’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you.”

“Did you not hear the things she said to me? She was totally out of line.” Sirius argued, his demeanor going rigid and his defensive mode kicking into high gear.

“Because you pushed her too hard,” Remus cut in, “She has every right to be upset.”

Sirius was shocked that they were taking your side over his. You were never allowed to speak to any of them the way you had talked to Sirius that day. You weren’t allowed to talk back, get an attitude, touch yourself without permission, as well as other rules that had been established early on in the relationship. They all took the rules very seriously, and the fact that James and Remus were brushing it off was mind boggling to Sirius.

“I didn’t push her at all. She caught an attitude with me.” Sirius remarked tossing his textbook aside.

“Because you don’t always treat her the way you should,” Remus snapped, “All she wanted was for you to listen and talk to her.” 

“Do I not already do enough for her? I walk her to class, I let her sleep with me, not to mention that I fuck her pretty much whenever she wants,” Sirius pointed out, “And now I’m still not doing enough?”

James shook his head, sighing harshly. He was disappointed that he still wasn’t getting it. 

“She’s our girl, Padfoot. She responds so well to Moony and me because she knows how much we love her,” James explained, “You’ve got to start treating her like you love her.”

Sirius’ hardened features went light at what James was saying. He looked between his two best friends, who were sharing matching expressions of urgency. Sirius felt a sickening feeling creeping into his stomach that he could feel all the way up into his throat. Had you gone this whole time thinking that he didn’t love you like the other two did?

“But...I do love her.” Sirius spoke, almost in a whisper.

James and Remus looked at one another briefly, a bit relieved that he was maybe starting to see clearly now.

“She doesn’t know that. You’re going to lose her for good if you don’t change some things, Pads.” Remus added once he saw that Sirius was beginning to have a serious breakthrough moment.

That surely got Sirius’ attention. That wasn’t something he wanted at all. It made his heart hurt even to think about possibly never being with you again. He had to fix this, no matter what he had to do or say.

He just hoped that it wasn’t too late.

The remorse and the contrition that he was feeling that had been building up in him over the last three weeks was finally seeping through the cracks of the surface. It was like a fire that just kept spreading and spreading until the only thing he could see were the hot, orange flames and black smoke that would suffocate him if he breathed in too hard. It was like a switch had flipped. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He didn’t care about his pride or his image or his dignity. 

He just wanted you back.

So, the boys began to devise a plan. Sirius admitted that he didn’t know how to even begin apologizing to you. He wasn’t great with apologies, considering that even the word ‘sorry’ probably had only fallen from his mouth only a couple of times in his life. This was going to take some calculation and planning to get it right. 

You had been doing a bang up job of ensuring that you weren’t ever alone with Sirius. You made sure that either James or Remus was by your side whenever you were in Sirius’ presence, to avoid being forced to speak to him. Remus and James were confident that they could get you two in a room alone together. That was the easy part. The hard part would fall to Sirius, which came down to the actual apology.

James and Remus knew you’d be suspicious if Sirius apologized first. You’d likely only think he was apologizing because he was touch starved and wanted sex, not because he cared about you and was terrified of losing you. In their eyes though, as long as he was honest and didn’t lose his cool, you’d be able to see his real intentions.

Remus had told you to meet him in their dorm, and that no one would be there until later in the day. That seemed pretty normal to you, so you didn’t even give it a second thought. The dorm was empty when you arrived, prompting you to slip out of your uniform and into one of Remus’ sweaters all while getting comfortable on his bed. Shortly after you were settled, the three boys congregated just outside the door, whispering in their semi-circle formation.

“You got this, mate. Just be normal and be honest,” James instructed, “I guarantee you that she’s missing you just as much.”

Sirius was nervous. Not because he didn’t know what to say or what to do, but because he had half convinced himself that you had already decided he wasn’t worth your time anymore. He couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had left him.

“We’ll be out here just in case you need us,” Remus piped up, “It’s gonna be fine, Pads.”

James and Remus gave Sirius reassuring grins as Sirius took a deep breath before turning the knob of the door. He entered the small dorm room, his heart fluttering when he saw you sitting on Remus’ mattress. Your head snapped up, your face full of delightful expectation for Remus, but it faded just as fast as it came when you saw it was Sirius. He definitely noticed, but tried not to take it to heart. Your eyes were locked in with his, and you could already tell something was up.

“Hey.” Sirius said plainly, and in a bit of a squeak.

“Hi.” You replied.

He was honestly surprised that you actually gave him an answer. He thought you might’ve ignored him completely. The joyous relief that he felt from you actually talking to him was almost enough to send him to his knees, pleading for you to give him another chance. 

His gaze did shift to the book that was placed next to you. It was your Herbology textbook, the same one that Sirius had been studying from earlier that day.

“Studying for Herbology?” Sirius asked, but obviously that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

“Yeah,” You answered, unsure of what exactly was happening, “I was just waiting for Remus.”

Sirius nodded, avoiding the sting that burned in his chest at the reminder that he hadn’t truly seen you in almost a month. You looked so comfortable in the large sweater and the blanket that was draped over your lap. Your hair was slightly messy from the breeze outside that you had walked through to get here. Your skin was glowing from the warmth of their room and the sudden interaction you were having with Sirius.

You looked perfect to him.

He knew he needed to say something now. He needed to kick start this conversation before things got awkward and weird. Although, he never minded silence as long as he had you to occupy his every thought. All the things that he had planned to say were abruptly wiped from his mind. He was going out on a limb here, totally about to wing this. He just had to go for it.

“Can I sit?” He questioned, referring to the slight open space next to you.

You nodded hesitantly, shifting over so he could have a little more room. He sat down just about a foot in front of you, both of you turning to face each other. James and Remus were just outside the door, their ears pressed up against the door to be sure they didn’t miss anything.

Sirius looked at you for a few moments, taking in your curious, attentive behavior. He took a breath, and spoke again, but it came out as more of a ramble.

“Baby, I know I’ve hurt your feelings. I didn’t want or mean to hurt your feelings, but sometimes I just say stupid shit and then I’m too proud to admit that I said something stupid and...” He trailed off when he realized that so far he wasn’t saying anything that you didn’t already know. 

This was yet another reminder that Sirius wasn’t a great talker. But he wanted to let you know the things that you didn’t already know. He wanted you to know that he was truly sorry. He was sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t worth anything to him. 

He wanted you to know that you were his world.

“I miss you,” He began again, preparing for any possible reaction from you,  “I’m sorry for everything I said. I’m sorry that I hurt you...I never, ever wanted to do that.”

Your silence wasn’t because you weren’t believing what he was saying or because you didn’t want to listen. You were silent because you were floored that this was happening. Never in a million years did you think that you’d be sitting here listening to a real, heartfelt apology from Sirius Black. The thought of you leaving him had really scared him, and you could see it.

“I know I’m different from Moony and Prongs. They’re a bit better at this than I am,” He admitted, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Truth be told, you weren’t really mad at Sirius anymore. You could never stay angry at him. Your whole avoid-Sirius-at-all-costs routine hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park for you either. There were several times where you were tempted to just let it go and forget about it. But now you were glad that you hadn’t done that, because you would’ve lost this opportunity to understand one another a little better.

“All I had wanted that day was to talk to you. I like talking to you,” You explained, “I just get frustrated when you don’t want to listen and the only thing you can think about is fucking me.”

Sirius sighed, his eyes diverting to his hands that were fiddling with the edge of the blanket in your lap. He had known that the other two boys were right, but hearing it come from you made him feel even more guilty.

“I know. I guess I’m just not good at talking. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just...not what I’m good at. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t important,” Sirius confessed, “But I do love you. And I don’t want to go another day without you.”

Another silence filled the room, one that had Sirius’ heart pounding in his chest. He felt like his entire life was on the line. Like, his entire fate was resting on whatever you were going to say or do next. You had every right to get up and walk out and never speak to him again. He knew he had crossed so many lines so many times that it was a wonder you were still here. He just hoped that you’d give him another chance. He hoped that he deserved another chance.

You were starstruck. You were completely touched and moved by what he had said. Maybe it wasn’t the most flawless apology ever. Maybe it was a little rough around the edges with a couple of hiccups. But deep down it was true, honest, and pure. 

Just like the Sirius Black that you had come to love.

He didn’t have anything else to say, and he hoped that what he had said was enough. Your warm hand came to his face, his head lulling into your palm when you brought his worried eyes to look at you once more. 

“I love you. I promise you don’t have to go without me anymore.” You smiled, accepting his apology and offering your forgiveness.

All color returned to Sirius’ face, his shoulders relaxing and his chest releasing a bated breath. You captured his lips into a needy kiss, one that was nothing short of long awaited. Sirius’ hands came to the side of your neck, his blood pumping in his ears. He had missed this. 

He had missed you.

He was even more thrilled when you crawled over into his lap, his hands guiding your legs around him as he refused to let you go from his lips. Although, when the other two boys came bursting in, your hot make out session was forced to a halt. They came in as if they had no idea what was going on, fake surprised expressions plastered on their faces.

“Well, hello there.” James chided with a smirk.

“Did we miss something?” Remus asked.

You and Sirius only laughed, as the four of you crammed together on Remus’ bed. Sirius continued to pepper kisses wherever he could while you craned your head to look at James as he spoke.

“So, I guess the two of you got things worked out?” James acquired. 

“We sure did.” You smiled, giggling when Sirius’ kisses brushed against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Your lips found his again, Sirius leaning you back onto the mattress and keeping secured there. When your breathing began to get heavy and your noises became a little hungrier, James and Remus announced their exit.

“Well, I suppose Prongs and I will leave you to it.” Remus winked.

Sirius broke the kiss only to respond, but that didn’t stop you from leaning upwards to suck on his pulse point, not even phased by what Remus had said.

“You two aren’t going to stick around?” Sirius wondered, groaning as your hips rolled into his quickly hardening dick through his pants.

James shrugged.

“We’ll let it slide this time,” He said triumphantly, ushering Remus out the door, “Besides, the two of you have some catching up to do.”

Sirius let out a guttural laugh as he took a moment to look down at you. You looked so beautiful sprawled out underneath him; your lips swollen from the kissing and your eyes blown with lustful expectation. He knew he’d never be able to take you for granted again.

“My pretty girl...” He mewled, “I love you. A million times over I’ll tell you that I love you.”

“I love you, Siri,” You hummed, swiping a loose piece of hair from his forehead, “Now make me cum the way I know you know how to.”

Sirius chuckled lowly at your boldness, his pupils dilating at the flush of arousal that sent through him. You knew better than to tell him how to run his show, but he knew this was a special occasion, so he didn’t mind taking an order or two. 

“Well, now, what happened to ‘sex doesn’t fix everything’?” Sirius joked.

“It doesn’t, but we already fixed what needed to be fixed by talking,” You smiled, “Now we just both get something we want.”

Sirius laughed out loud, continuing his shower of kisses and swiping your skirt off in one swift move, your body squirming with anticipation. He felt confident that things would be better now. He was more than thankful that he had another shot at this. He was happy he had you back, and the four of you could go back to normal.

And now things would be even better than before.

***

Tags: @justadreamyhufflepuff​ @satellitespidey​ @blackpinkdolan​ @gubleryum​ @gxtitobxby​ @risingtripletaurus​​

[4joonkookie]

Mirror, Mirror.

➹ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

➹ Words: 3K

➹ Summary:

(smutty) You tell Jungkook that you don’t want to talk. He makes sure to keep you quiet. OR

(Angsty) Your established, long-distance relationship with Jungkook has reached an impasse. OR

(Angsty & Smutty) Jungkook makes you take a long, hard look at yourself.

➹ Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Public Sex, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Rushed Sex, Mirror Sex, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, (Jungkook literally pulls up a chair to eat you out), Fingering, Rough Sex, Mouth Covering, Shoving, Angry Sex, Drinking, Embarrassment, Spanking, ANGST, Failure to Communicate, Commitment Issues, Avoidant Behavior, Female Character with Fuckboi!Tendancies, Petty!Jungkook, Unresolved Ending, Ending up to Reader Interpretation, Easter Eggs?

**

You’re late on purpose.

You told Jungkook you couldn’t make it until just about when the cars would be leaving to take the boys and their group to the event.

He greets you with a kiss at the door when you rush in, dressed and ready to the hotel room everyone gathers in. You eagerly greet and catch up with the others. Jungkook knowingly raises his eyebrow at you.

He doesn’t deserve this and you’re not proud of it but you aren’t ready to talk about it. Everything was left in the air last you saw each other and there’s a lot to discuss. You managed to get away from work for just 1 night, so, you plan on avoiding it until your next visit, maybe another 2 weeks.

That would give you enough time to think about it, about what you would say. It might give you time to come up with a good reason why he’s completely wrong about this.

So, you settle for getting ready for a formal event in the airport bathroom. That’s how badly you don’t want to talk about it.

A voice announces that the cars are here and people fuss at themselves in the full length mirror before corralling out the door. Soon, it’s just you left, touching up your red lipstick. You almost never wear it but hope It hides your total cowardice.

Jungkook approaches you from behind in the mirror.

Can we talk about it?”, he asks your reflection.

“I’m not sure now is a good time”, you say as casually as possible.

“Well, will there be a good time before you leave tomorrow morning? We never finished talking...”

“We weren’t talking, we were arguing.”, you interrupt and pull his arms around you from behind, hands laced at your waist. “Look, we have one night. And I have to leave for the airport by 7:30 tomorrow.”

He pauses before he speaks. “No you don’t.”, he says plainly. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

You take a breath. “But I will.” You shrug and sigh, still in his arms.

“So, the answer to my question is ‘no’, you plan on avoiding the topic until….”

“...until I come back.”, you finish, trying to sound optimistic.

He pulls his hands from around you and steps away from you.. “In 2 weeks.”, he scoffs. “So, what, you’re here to get fucked and leave?”

You turn to face him and tell the truth. “I miss you, baby.” You plant a soft, closed kiss on his lips. “I'm here to see you.”, you inspect his mouth for any trace of lipstick. “Besides….would it be the worst thing if I came for one night just to get fucked?”, you tease, turning to the mirror again.

He snickers, “...no”. He kisses your neck and shifts his crotch against your ass. “I just worry you think this problem won’t be here when you get back.”

“Please, Jungkook, I just want to be with you, I don’t want to fight. There’s no chance we could solve this in a night anyway.”

Jimin renters the room to gather you. “We need to go_”, he stops when he sees Jungkook’s worried reflection. “Everything ok?”

Jungkook abruptly drops his arms from you. “We’re having an argument,'' he announces. “but we’re not talking about it.” He moves to hold the door open and gestures for you and Jimin to exit before him.

Ugh. Brat.

The back of the private car is your proverbial doghouse as you both sip your cocktails in silence, Jungkook obviously agitated. You sit next to each other, such a big space for just 2 people. A small gap between you feels wider than ever.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not ready”, you finally say, lamely.

“It’s fine,'' he replies quickly. “You don’t want to talk, we won’t.” He finishes one drink and pours another.

You stay quiet, still without the right words. He looks at you and thinks for a long time. You almost ask if he’s ok when he finally speaks.

“You look really good.”, he abruptly spits out and laughs as if he’s missed something that had been in front of him the whole time. “I’m sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I wanted to tell you in the mirror.“

You’re relieved with his light-heartedness and grateful for the effects of alcohol as you close the gap between you, placing your hand on his closest thigh.

The cabin is dimly lit with a bluish light. Jungkook brings his face so close to yours, tingles go down your spine. He smells like a mixture of cologne and liquor.

“I like your pretty red lips.”, he hums, voice deep and low. His eyes, dark in the dim light. “And if you’re not going to use them to talk...”, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip and leaning in to whisper, “...I want them wrapped around my cock.” He moves his hand back and tugs at your hair.

You waste no time. The area of the car is spacious enough that you can get to your knees below him. You work together to pull his trousers down far enough to expose his pretty leaking cock.

You start a long lick with a flat tongue at the base of his shaft and up to the tip. You hollow your cheeks and fully engulf him on the way back down, knowing it’s just a matter of time before you arrive.

He guides your head as you diligently slide up and down, slurping and occasionally stopping to hold the tip at the back of your throat. Soon, his hips lift on every trip down, squirming and unable to hold back the prettiest whines.

“Look at me”, Jungkook urges. You turn your head to the side to look up and run your tongue up a vein on the side of his shaft.

“So good, noona.”, he says with his eyes rolling backward with a smirk. He pushes your head down harder, driving you to increase the pace.

He fills your mouth with a groan. You swallow, eager to take whatever he gives you.

The car comes to a stop and you pull yourself together enough to get to the bathroom inside to check your lipstick.

***

Wherever you are, it’s huge. A massive hall with doors that seemed to go on forever. The party and guests, relegated to one (very big) room.

As the guests and your group get toasted and social, it becomes easier to step away from your unresolved issues than you thought. Jungkook and the boys are laughing and enjoying themselves. Everyone’s guard is down, including you.

That’s why you love these types of events. The ones with no cameras or staff, where boys can bring dates or just be themselves. There’s so many of these things you CAN'T go to; another point of contention between you and Jungkook.

Here, when everyone can just be together without a camera, it seems easy. The last moments of your previous visit begin to replay in your mind, as you watch Jungkook charm the room.

“What are you so afraid of?”, his voice echoes in your mind. Suddenly, the mellow tone of the room fades and it feels stifling and small, heat flooding to your chest.

You make your way to the entry doors. Maybe to get some air, or make an escape, you’re not sure. You calmly peek outside the big room to the empty big hall with endless doors. Before the door can close behind you, Jungkook peeks out, whispering and smiling. “Where are you going?”, worries obviously set aside. His face is comforting and makes it feel like you can breathe again.

“Exploring.”, you whisper back with a wink and extend your hand. He offers a cheeky smile and accepts.

You tipsily giggle down the hall into an empty room. It’s identical to the room the party is in, only this one is empty and one wall is made of full mirrors, like some kind of performance and rehearsal room.

You kiss and stumble into a corner. He takes both of your drink glasses and places them on the floor. He grabs your body so you face away and you’re looking at your reflections again.

“We were like this.” his lips are on your neck again and a hand sneaks up the slit in your dress and inside your thigh. “...when I saw how you looked in the mirror at the hotel.” He lets out a gratified sigh and slips his fingers effortlessly into you.

“Jungkook!”, you scold, doing your best not to sink into his sensation but it’s too late now. Your body is a step ahead of your mind and you’re moving your hips in time with his fingers. You place both hands on the mirror in front of you to brace yourself.

“What?”, he says innocently, still speaking to the mirror. You came here to get fucked and leave right? ”, pushing fingers in and out of your entrance. “Anyway”, he continues, “You know better. You should’ve showed up earlier so I could fuck you before we had to leave. You knew we’d end up like this.”

His skilled fingers stir inside you so delightfully that you close your eyes. He puts a squeezing hand on your shoulder to alert you.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. I want you to see what I see.” You make an effort to keep your eyes on the mirror but shriek when he lays a hard spank on you, cold rings intensifying the sting. He quickly removes his fingers to unbutton himself, lowering his pants again.

“Jungkook...”, you start, fussing to pull your dress down and yammering in panic about how you ‘can’t do this here’ and ‘what happens if we get caught?’.

He grins arrogantly and uses a hand to cover your mouth and pushes at the small of your back with the other so you're bent in front of him again, your hands propped against the glass. Your heart races when he lines his tip to your core.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He thrusts himself into without warning. You let out a shocked moan. “Maybe we can talk about it when you come back in 2 weeks”, he taunts as he sets his rhythm.

Petty brat.

All thoughts wash away as you watch him take you in the mirror with punishing thrusts, so heavy, your eyes are closing again as you feel the brunt. He digs his nails into your shoulder.

“Eyes Open.”, he reminds, never breaking stride. Your bodies echo lewdly in the empty room. “You flew a long way for this, I want you to see everything.” His hand is pressed tight to your mouth and using his free hand on your shoulder to steady you, exhibiting you in the mirror.

Your eyes are open but they’re watching Jungkook. Sweat runs down his neck. You’re terrified to be caught but relish watching him take your body for himself, happy to shut up and watch.

“I could fuck you like this everyday if you wanted, noona.”, he menaces. You whimper behind his gripped hand. “Wouldn’t you like it if I could spoil this pussy everyday?”.

You can only nod in the mirror.

“I wish I could do it every day, baby.” Hand tight on your mouth, he pulls back on your body so his teeth can reach your neck. Arms off the mirror, Jungkook marks you.

When he releases your neck, he directs: “Touch yourself, baby. I want you to watch yourself come with my hand wrapped around your pretty mouth.”

You collect the abundant slick from around Jungkook’s cock at your opening to run your fingers to your clit. The other hand props yourself up against the mirror, back arched. You fight to stay focused on the mirror, the sensation on your clit making your legs buckle. Your whimpers are stifled behind his palm.

“That’s it, baby, that’s so good. His eyes are glued at your moving fingers, eyes egging you on. The warmth building at your center takes over you when he whispers.

“I'm gonna make you walk back into that room with my cum still dripping out of you.”

You gasp when he releases his grip on your face to replace your hand and continues to circle fingers around your clit while he thrusts deeper into you, and both of your moans resounding off the walls.

He grunts, slows, and lets himself fall out of you . Cum, already dripping down your thighs.

“I’ll see you in there.” He quickly buttons himself and leaves, his footsteps echoing through the empty room until the door closes.

His intentional coldness hurts but you can’t help

but feel that you deserve it. You clean up as best you can before rejoining the group.

***

You casually approach the group in the full room hoping you appear somewhat put together.

They stand in a circle and Hoseok looks at you from across. One arm around his date, he dabs a finger from the other hand underneath his bottom lip. “You’ve got a little…”

“...lipstick.”,Jimin pipes in from beside you and uses his own thumb to wipe the smeared lipstick.

“And a little…” Yoongi starts and dabs a finger in the same motion as Hoseok, only on the side of his neck.

Jimin pulls long strands of hair over your shoulder to cover the fresh bruise Jungkook marked into your neck.

Taehyung turns to Jungkook who has a shit-eating grin on his face. A few in the crew exchange glances and soon a knowing giggle ripples through the group. Blood hits your cheeks.

“What did I miss?” Seokjin says, looking at Jimin.

“They were fighting but now they’ve made up. Now You’re all caught up.”, Jimin chides.

“We didn’t make up.”, Jungkook corrects, his cheery disposition quickly fading. “She said she’s here for a night to get laid. I’m just making sure she gets what she came for.”

He walks away and leaves you to deal with the silence.

Namjoon expertly changes the attention and subject by asking about your job. He must know it’s your preferred way to avoid any real conversation.

The party winds down, the room slowly empties and guests make their way back to their cars.

The car ride home is silent, buzzes fading and exhaustion setting in. You make it back to his room when Jungkook finally speaks.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, you know.”

“Yes, I do.”, you snap back. “I just know I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t.”, he says, a flash of guilt passing over his face. “I just want you to talk to me. And we don't even need to solve any_.”

You’re relieved when he abruptly stops himself and raises 2 surrendering hands in the air. He mimics zipping his lips and winks.

No talking.

He shoves you so you fall back on the bed and pulls up a nearby chair to the edge, looking more determined than ever. He crawls above you and pushes your long dress up over your hips and opts to keep himself quiet instead of you. Diving in right away, he uses 2 fingers to spread your lips apart to give a straight licks before attaching to your exposed clit. He moans while he sucks, sending little vibrations through your center. He laps at you like he can’t get enough.

You start to squirm so he hooks an arm around one of your thighs in the air and the other hand to pin your 2nd thigh flat to the bed.

Hunched over, he continues work on you. You cover your own mouth with your hands while he flicks and sucks furiously on your clit, refusing to let up until your legs shake and he fights your thighs, eager to clamp shut around him.

Your hands drop from your face and shamelessly scream when you come, hands gripping the sheets.

He crawls up to kiss you, tasting him and yourself. He lays his head on your chest and squeezes your body tight. You stroke his head until he falls asleep. You close your eyes too, and when you open them again, the sun shines through the window and it’s time to leave.

You fuss in the bathroom mirror. Sleepy face Jungkook slides behind you and groans, voice still rough with sleep. He buries his face in your neck then lifts to look at your reflections. You both smile at the familiar position. He takes steps to turn on the shower and finds his way to you again.

He begins: “I know we’re not talking about it now….”, you flinch from his touch at the mention. He gets closer to you anyway, happy to press up against your thorny exterior. He continues, “but in 2 weeks, I’m going to ask you again. He presses his forehead against your temple and you listen, watching the mirror.

“Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.”

You nearly made it through this unscathed but two strokes to midnight, you finally snap.

“And talk about what, Jungkook? How you’ll be gone months at a time?, eyes on your own terrored expression in the mirror. “How I should uproot my life so I can live in random hotels basically alo_”. He turns you to face him and places his index finger over your running lips before you can finish.

“It’s 7:30. You need to leave if you’re going to catch your flight.” He moves his finger to kiss your lips.

He enters the shower without a word, confident you’ll be gone when he gets out.

PART 2/4 HERE

[thebeautyoffanfics]

WAAAH I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQUEST TT^TT TO THE ANON WHO WISHED FOR THE TERU X READER, ANGST TO FLUFF, HERE IT ISS;; I'M SO SORRY;;;;;

teru minamoto x gn!reader

a/n: thank you so much for being patient and understanding, though I’m still so sorry for how long this took;;!! It really does mean a lot, so truly- thank you for that, and for the encouragement <3! But!! Of course, I’m a bit of a sucker for angst to fluff, tho I don’t write it too often, so I hope it turns out alright! Thank you so much for requesting, and for your encouragement!!! <3 <333

warnings: self deprecating thoughts..?

word count: 1,848

Your eyes drifted around the room. Person to person, conversation to conversations. Yet, you sat at your desk, lunch in front of you, completely alone. You had a boyfriend, yes, but you didn’t even know where on earth he could be… no, he usually sat with you during lunch. However, today he walked up to you, announcing that he had to attend to something during lunch. He asked if you could eat your lunch without him today, and… well, who were you to say no?

The bell rang, and your lunch remained barely touched. You were sure you wouldn’t have been so dramatic normally- however, it felt as if Teru was practically avoiding you at this point. In fact, it almost felt like he was ditching you for someone else. The thought was enough to make you feel nauseous- both because of it being unpleasant, and because you felt bad for simply thinking it. Teru was a good person. You wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. Still, he was only human… and, in your head, there were many other humans out there much more fit for Teru. She was one of them.

Her hair flowed alongside her. Her skin was practically flawless. Her teeth weren’t crooked, and her smile was… frankly, flawless. Good grades, good body, good personality. A lovely match for the prince of the school. A princess suited just for him.

Yet, he seemed to stick with the… well- what was the opposite of a princess? A… troll? You did suppose that, compared to someone like that, a troll was a fair enough comparison. Nothing but a creature in the face of such beauty.

The worst part, you were sure, was the fact that Teru did spend time with her. In fact, you were confident that she “needed him” for something during lunch, causing him to miss out on yet another thing. As if grabbing his attention after school during club activities wasn’t enough. As if going to him constantly to ask for help on things you were positive she was perfectly good at. Her grades were nearly as good as his… was it because he helped her? In that case, why were your grades still lower…? Teru helped you study plenty of times- and, while your grades did get better, you were sure you couldn’t get all 99s and 100s. It was impossible for someone who couldn’t be any form of royalty.

You leaned over, placing your lunch back into the box, then shoving the box into your bookbag. Once you sat up, the classroom door was pushed open- as it usually was. It was right after lunch, after all. However, when you saw two familiar people step in, you began to wish that the door never opened. If only it had been locked- if only someone got distracted. If only you looked down just a bit longer. But, it was done- there was no going back, no need to go back, on such a tiny detail.

In stepped the “Princess”, the “Prince” following her- he even held the door open. It was a basic act of chivalry, yes, but the lack of it around you only made him that much more like a prince… Yes, he wasn’t kind to just you. He treated everyone with kindness, as a normal person should. That little act shouldn’t have made you feel that twinge of jealousy- of doubt- spark in your mind.

“(Y/N), were you able to enjoy lunch?” Teru asked, taking a seat next to you. At least he was still acknowledging you.

“Mmh… I’m not really hungry, haha.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, concern crossing onto his beautiful features.

“Are you feeling alright? I don’t want you to wind up hungry later…”

Of course, the concern on his face was no longer in your direction- his expression changing slightly as the unfortunately familiar girl called his name. Though she spoke to him, his eyes drifted in your direction several times.

“Teru, I was wondering if you could let me borrow your notes from second hour? The teacher was speaking so fast, ahaha~. I don’t know how you keep up, really!”

“Oh? Of course, I don’t mind. If you’d please return them when you’re done though,” Teru spoke, grabbing a notebook from his bag, then handing them to her. He’d surely let you borrow his notes too, so… she wasn’t special. Though it was a bit surprising that someone that bright couldn’t keep up with the teacher’s far-too-fast method of teaching. When you opened your mouth to make a comment you already knew you shouldn’t, the teacher entered, as if prompting you to keep your emotions in check.

The rest of the day passed nearly the same as the first half did. Teru’s attention constantly elsewhere, though he did seem to at least try to keep it on you. Hey, you were used to that much… everyone wanted his attention. You couldn’t be the one to deny them of it. Yes, it was normal. That’s what you told yourself, as you stepped into the hallway, making your way towards the student council room. Finally, you’d have a chance to be with Teru, no one out to beg for his attention. Well- Akane would be there, but- honestly, you were plainly aware of his… distaste towards your boyfriend. Really, you didn’t mind it. At least it was someone not trying to take any attention you got at school away from you.

“Yeah! With the way that girl seems to be all over him! I think they’re dating?”

“No, no, isn’t he dating (Y/N)?”

“I think he was? But, he doesn’t really seem to spend as much time with her, you know.”

You shut your locker, the sound echoing much louder than you thought you intended. The conversation ceased, as the two engaged in it glanced in your direction, one muttering some profanity under their breath. Still, you picked up your bag, not wanting to drag two strangers into your personal business. All you had to do was establish that you were the one dating Teru, right? And the first step was… making sure Teru still wanted to date. Despite how you tried to calm and reassure yourself as your legs carried you quickly to the school council room, you could feel a mix of frustration, fear, sadness, and insecurity bubbling up in your stomach. Why was he spending so much time with her? Was she better than you? Did he like her more than you? Of course, how could someone like him choose you…? If you were in his shoes, you were sure you’d pick the other girl…

Soon, you stood in front of the room. Though you reached for the doorknob confidently at first, you froze once your hand was about to rest on it. Nerves were practically eating at you, your heart racing so quickly that you felt dizzy. Heck- when was the last time you were this nervous? When was the last time your emotions ran this rampant?

Gathering your emotions as best as you could, you opened the door.

“(Y/N), good afternoon,” Teru greeted, giving you his usual, sweet smile. Did he smile at the other girl like that?

You didn’t want to lose that smile…

“Teru,” You muttered, voice cracking a bit as tears finally filled your eyes. Instantly, those smiling eyes of his were filled with concern. He was so easily concerned for you. Did he worry for her that easily?

“(Y/N)? What happened-? What’s wrong?” He questioned, standing up and rushing over towards you. Once you noticed that Akane hadn’t arrived yet, Teru reached behind you, one arm resting on your shoulder as he locked any potential intruders out. He knew you wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, if something was upsetting you enough to cry like this in front of him.

“Teru, do you still want to be with me?”

“What? (Y/N), of course-” “Be honest, Teru. If you don’t wanna, then don’t lie to me, please. I understand. I’m not as pretty as her- and I’m not as smart, I know. And she’s popular, like you. And she can talk to people easily, and she’s fit, and thin, and she’s got a pretty, normal smile… a-and I know I’m nothing like her, so I understand. She and I are complete opposites, Teru, so I’m positive she’s more your type.”

“(Y/N), calm down,” Teru spoke, both of his hands now resting on your shoulders, thumbs moving comfortingly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I assure you-”

“You’ve been skipping on things we’ve done since we became friends to spend time with her, Teru. Just today, the two of you spent time together during lunch-”

“Her? (Y/N), darling, you’re joking.”

Your eyes filled further with tears, as you shook your head in frustration. “I’m not joking, Teru!”

“(Y/N), please, sweetheart. Calm down, let me explain, alright? Here, let’s sit down?”

Teru led you to a chair, sitting you in it carefully, then crouching next to you, his hands holding both of yours.

“She’s just trying to get some extracurricular things done, relating to her education. Yes, when she needs help, which I’ll admit has been frequently lately, I told her to go to me. I wasn’t expecting her to need this much help, but I didn’t want to go back on my word. Here, if you’d like, I’ll explain to her that I’m a bit too busy to help all the time. I’ll get Akane to step in a bit, is that alright?”

You sniffled, thinking about what he said. Still, as you processed it, you nodded. Poor Akane indeed, but… you felt slightly relieved.

“Next, you know you’re more my type than anyone, (Y/N). Really, sweetie, I only show her basic human kindness. Even when she gets irritating… with you, I never feel annoyed or irritated. Plus, I can actually express how I feel around you- listen, would I admit to anyone else that I find one of our classmates annoying at times?”

“I’m sure you’d tell anyone how you felt about Akane,” You joked lightheartedly, laughing to yourself. Teru’s slight smile grew to a grin, as he closed his eyes.

“Mmm, maybe? But he’s a different story. Still, I love you, (Y/N). You’re plenty smart- and, if you don’t think so, then who cares? Your lack of confidence in yourself means I get to help you study- and you always end up doing just fine. You’re more than plenty gorgeous- I love everything about you. Your smile, your hair, your skin, your body type, anything and everything. You’re perfect, (Y/N). Perfect for the world, and absolutely perfect for me.”

This time, when you felt your eyes get watery, they weren’t tears of sadness or worry. When you hugged Teru, sniffling lightly once again, he could feel you smile against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for assuming things, Teru-”

“Ah-ah. No need to apologize, (Y/N). Really, you have no reason to apologize… you’re fine, darling.”

[ibvix]

Does anyone have the credit card infos that anonymous leaked?

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 4

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Cursing, Mentions of death (bounty hunting), mentions of drinking to be done in the next chapter, reluctant pining

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        Maul had stayed in the cockpit much longer than it was necessary, allowing autopilot to guide the Wolf through hyperspace. He was silently obsessing why you had felt the need to call another hunter; another Alpha. He couldn’t explain to himself or anyone else who would be stupid enough to ask why this upset him so much. He remembered what Zeni and Coth had said; Bane got you into the guild and the both of you had traveled around together for a bit over a year, long after your membership had been established with the house. He had been told that you were unmated but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if a close comradery was all you had shared with the Duro. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

    He eventually left the cockpit when he smelled something in your pheromones change, not being able to place it exactly, he ventured out. When he found you, he almost smirked at the sight before him. One he hadn’t ever seen before. The mighty lone Omega had buried herself completely in his sofa bed under the blanket she had lent him. Every few seconds her hand would dart out to snatch a piece of jerky from a plate on the nearby table and pull it under the blanket.  

    He slowly approached; mind set on taking some of the food for himself but he stopped in his tracks when a low growl rumbled out from the mess of fabric. He took a step back until it subsided. Warily he took another step forward and outstretched his hand earning a second growl that he was sure humans wouldn’t normally be able to make.

    He had become familiar with some of the cultural dynamics of the cross subspecies but as for the specific habits and instincts, he was uneducated to say the least. Equally confused as he was humored, he took another step back, gauging the perimeter around you that you suddenly required. He finally decided what the smell you were giving off was; aggression. But not outwardly so, a defensive aggression. One that said back the fuck up, so he did; not without poking the proverbial bear though.

“I understand that this is your ship, and everything in it belongs to you. However,” he watched as you peered out from your wrap, “we have six hours before we reach Hoth and I would like to rest.” He didn’t really need to. He had and could again go, days without sleep. However, he was not one to avoid getting under someone’s skin when the opportunity presented itself.

    You eyed him carefully with your eyes narrowed. Finally, ‘the bitch’ gave up for a moment so that you could understand his reasoning. With a huff, you stood with his blanket still wrapped around you and grumbled nonsense under your breath until you reached the door to your room. You glanced over your shoulder just long enough to catch his confused gaze before you turned and entered your sanctuary. Ignoring how he sniffed the air in the path you had just walked. You locked your door and turned on the incredibly dim colorful lights and pressed a remote that played soft music. You continued to grumble about stupid inconsistent cycles. It wasn’t a full-on heat like you normally experienced, more like a nagging annoyance in the back of your mind, dulled needles underneath your skin.

    After trying several different placements for the blanket saturated in his scent you finally found one that ‘the bitch’ was satisfied with. Clamoring into your vast array of blankets, pillows and other various soft things you settled in its center and closed your eyes; preparing for the tremors that you were convinced would come. Just as you got comfortable, your vambrace started beeping and an obscenely offensive red light blinked in time with the wretched noise. Growling audibly, you reached for your table and strapped it on to your wrist, violently pressing the answer button.

“Fucking. What?” your teeth clenched so hard they could crack.

“Last I recall you’re the one who wanted to talk. Had a question or something,” the Duro’s head lit up in that blue only holo-comms could emanate. You pinched the bridge of your nose and scrunched your eyes shut apologetically.

“Sorry. Yeah, yeah I do,” you opened your eyes slowly and looked at him, almost hoping he could just pry the information out of your head so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Well, you gonna ask or what ‘Meg?” he folded his arms across his chest already tired.

“So, I’m sponsoring an Alpha who didn’t know what he was until a few months ago…” you started, hoping that either Zeni or Coth had filled him in in the few days that you’d been gone.

“Heard something about that. I know the guy, did a job with him back before I picked you up. Something about a captured Jedi he wanted to hunt. Didn’t talk much.” Your eyes widened at the new information. “You haven’t told anyone about that bit, have you?”

“The fuck do I look like kid?” he was almost offended at the implication that his lips even held the ability to flap. Even if they could they wouldn’t. The sigh that escaped you was exasperated in your relief.

“So, what about him. Is he fucking with you?” his eyes narrowed further and the last word came out as a protective growl.

“No, no he’s fine but I’m not.”

“’Meg if you don’t start speaking plainly, I swear to Maker I’ll find and kill you both.”

“He smells…. Different. Intense. More so than any other Alpha I’ve ever come into contact with,” you chuckled, “even more than Fett.” His eyes widened and he thought for a moment before responding.

“When was your last cycle? Has he triggered another one?”

“I mean maybe a week or so ago? I wouldn’t call it a new one, feels different. Lighter? ‘The Bitch’ is talking more in my ear and I’m starving. Like, fucking famished.” He nodded with his fingers on his chin looking off to the side.

“Where are you right now and where is he?”

“On the way to Hoth.”

“No, I mean on the ship. Where are the both of you?”

“Oh, I’m in my room; doors locked. He’s in the common,” you glanced at the door like it was possible he could’ve manifested on your side of the durasteel door. The force could do some crazy shit but teleportation wasn’t on the list as far as you knew. Even for a Sith.

“Good. You’re not gonna like the answer ‘Meg. Don’t shoot the messenger,” your eyes snapped back to his projection, waiting for him to continue.

“Someone always smells best, stronger. Mine did, Coth and Zeni got that. Not everyone gets it or waits long enough to find it but I’d put five quarries’ credits worth on the fact that that guys’ your Alpha.”

“W-what? No, that story’s bullshit. That’s not real, is it?” He growled slightly angrily in his response.

“I said.. I fucking had it. It’s why I can’t ever have another. Don’t doubt anything cause you’ve never known it before. Like me saying your Jedi force shits fake. Ignorance I can handle ‘Meg; arrogance I won’t put up with.”

    You couldn’t respond. This is not what was supposed to happen. You were going to live your life as the lone Omega, ‘Meg the hunter. Live your life in solitude only occasionally coming to the surface to socialize with your pack members to stave off the inevitable loneliness.

“Sorry, no you’re right. I just, don’t want that? I guess, you just shocked me was all. I didn’t mean to offend you or your Omega.”

He visibly relaxed and sighed as he rubbed his head under his hat.

“Do what you gotta do. Whether that means scenting him, mating, kicking him out now, or waiting till you finish what you started with him. You don’t need to explain yourself. But that’s my best guess to your question kid.” You nodded and stared off for a moment away from the door. You thanked your old friend for his time and his insight before hanging up and rolling over and failing to find rest as the tremors started.

      Maul truly had no clue what had crawled into your skin and possessed you. He wondered for a moment if some cousin to Dathomirian magick had made its way into the ship before shaking his head. That would be ridiculous. He had grabbed another of the no less than what guessed were a thousand blankets from the shelf and laid back. He didn’t really try to eavesdrop but when he recognized the voice that was speaking to you, he bristled. He only caught a few words while he passed, faking a trip to the fresher should you be able to feel him through the force. On his way there he realized that you were in fact as affected by his scent as he was yours and that it wasn’t necessarily normal.  On his way back he couldn’t hear your words but it sounded like you had received some information that you really didn’t want to hear.

    The pheromones that you gave off were those of fear mixed with frustration and anger. He wondered how long you would’ve lasted as a Jedi if they hadn’t thrown you out. Despite his bitterness the overwhelming urge to comfort you assaulted his every sense. He pushed it down with a snarl at himself before stalking back to the cockpit trying to put some distance between the heady smells.

    He must have watched you eat at least three pounds of the dried meat hastily while gearing up to venture out onto the frozen wasteland. A small part of him wanted to ask what all this was about with you but the larger part of him knew it wasn’t his business unless you made it his business. He settled for simply asking if you were alright. You threw a sarcastic ‘perfect’ over your shoulder before throwing yourself out into the blizzard.

    You had yet again, not permitted him to bring his saber. Jabba usually wanted a head over a warm body but bodies couldn’t pay their debts, and this particular Talz owed him big. He had thought it worth the expense to make an example himself out of this smuggler. Maul was just as frustrated as he had been last time but was silent about it, much to your personal relief. You were in no mood for argument and he no doubt could sense it.

    He had landed the ship just outside a large cavern, the tracking fob blinked rapidly, signaling that the one you sought was close by. As you entered the cave you had expected to run into a Wampa or two. Bones of different creatures varying in size had alluded to it being home to one of the creatures. What you had not expected was to walk right into an onslaught of blaster fire.

    Maul had force pushed you roughly to the ground a couple meters away from your position; landing you behind a large enough boulder for you to take cover behind. Cautiously, you looked to the side through the bolts to find him taking refuge along the wall behind stone that jut out from the wall with his blaster pointing to the circling, looking to you for approval.

    You took a flash grenade out of your utility belt, hit the countdown button and tossed it; taking cover before the blinding light filled the cavern. It must have been cheaper to hire guns than pay Jabba, six humans doubled over covering their faces allowing you to take a few shots. After putting down three yourself fairly quickly you looked over at your companion again. He was firing alright but not hitting a damn thing.

“I thought you said you were ‘quite familiar with other forms of weaponry!’” you shouted over the returned fire in a slightly mocking tone.

    His response was only to look at you with wild, angry eyes that made you double over laughing in the thick of the standoff. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You raised your blaster and took out two more, leaving one man and your quarry. You turned to face Maul and crossed your arms in your seated position behind the boulder smiling toothily at him, nodding your head to the last man.

    It took him a few shots but he managed to hit the hired gun square in his chest. You missed the glint in his eye but felt his pride through the force before he covered it again and chuckled to yourself once more. You could see the Talz shaking as he raised his blaster in his trembling hand as he slowly backed up. You pulled out your blow gun and loaded one of your tranquilizer darts. The long needle glinted ominously in the low light of the cavern, Maul watched as you took a deep breath and bring the long tube up to your mouth and wrap your lips around it. The dart flew with a short huff of breath as the Talz turned to run; striking him directly in his spine.

    The toxin took hold before the quarry could take another step, dropping to the floor with a thud and a grunt. You stood from your position and made your way over to the first of the dead body guards. Maul went to bind and secure the smuggler while you scoffed at the small number of credits you pulled from the dead’s pockets. They really didn’t get paid shit, and they died for it. You almost felt bad for them; now wasn’t the time to get soft though. They took the job and they paid the price for it, just like you risked each and every job you took. No different from the rest of the pack.

    You handed Maul half of the measly amount and one of the better blasters that one of the men carried. He hoisted the Talz onto his back and raised his brow at you before taking what you had offered.

“I told you half of what we make is yours. This falls under that category despite the fact that it’s not technically a bounty prize, I don’t go back on my word once I give it.”

    He nodded his head in thanks and followed you back to the ship. Once the smuggler was frozen in the carbonate, you led him back to the cave. He watched as you dragged the bodies of the fallen gunmen to various positions and distances. You made your way back to him and when he opened his mouth to speak you raised your hand to cut him off.

“That was a fucking atrocious display if I’m being honest. Mildly disappointing if I’m being kind,” he snapped his mouth shut with a quiet clink of his teeth. “You can’t bring your saber to the higher paying jobs, as I’ve said, too many witnesses. Do you want to pick off the bottom of the barrel, cheap thieves for your career?” he crossed his arms and glowered at you.

“No, but what would it matter if I only go after those who are wanted dead?” you jut out your hip and rested your hand on it while rolling your eyes.

“You allow yourself to wield a crutch. What if you’re attacked in public? The longer you play the game the more likely it is to happen. You going to flash your pretty red blade and take out an entire town to maintain secrecy or are you going to be smart about it?”

    He growled at your logic and took out the blaster you had plucked off of the corpse. You watched him take a few rushed shots before snarling to himself at all of his misses. You silently walked over to him and kicked the insides of his ankles lightly to widen his stance and kicked one of his heels to push it forward a few inches. He allowed you to but not without a glare. You pulled out your own blaster and demonstrated how with your dominant hand you gripped it tightly, pointer finger lined up with the barrel. With your other hand you held your palm to the bottom of the grip and wrapped your fingers around both it, and your other hand to stabilize it; bending your elbows slightly and raising the sights to your eyes.

    He followed your movements with the accuracy of a mirror. You didn’t speak until you saw him close one eye to aim, “both eyes open, its more accurate,” you demonstrated again and fired your blaster a single time, hitting the furthest target square between his eyes.

    In only three shots, Maul had hit two targets square in the chest, knocking them over. You backed up and watched him practice. It was slow going but after resituating the corpses he knocked over multiple times he had started to get consistent hits on them. When you were satisfied with his progress you lifted a head sized rock with the force and moved it side to side a decent distance in front of him. Moving targets were always a different game compared to stationary ones and the victorious glint in his eyes when he landed a single shot took you back a few years to when Bane was teaching you to shoot.

    The twin suns were beating down on you harshly in the desert that stretched out as far as you could see in any direction. The sand here was what water is to the ocean, swallowing up everything in its path. The durasteel of the ship was growing hotter and hotter by the minute under your belly and you could hear Bane curse under his breath. You didn’t have to see him on the ground below you to know his eyes were pointed in the same direction as yours, the massive skeleton of a creature you couldn’t name even if you tried. Hopefully they were extinct or at least, nowhere in the area. It lay against the horizon three hundred meters away, unscathed by your attempted blasts.

“Bane, it’s really hot up here. Can’t I come down and try again tonight?”

“Hell no, next job ‘m gonna need you to cover me from ‘nother building ‘Meg. Either you’ll hit the target or melt onto my ship tryin. Focus, the scope is doin all the hard work for you. Breath like those Jedi taught you over so many years. Take the shot when you let your breath out. Closest thing I ever come to meditation is behind the scope and you’ll do the same now until you make your mark.”

    You had taken his suggestion to heart and waited before your next shot, breathing deeply and slowly. Sweat pooled on your forehead before gathering enough to drip down your face and streaming between your breasts as the minutes ticked by. Bane was silent as you focused your shot. With one last deep breath you slowly let the air out of your lungs and squeezed the trigger. You looked through the scope again and saw that you had indeed scorched the beast just below its eye socket like you had been instructed to do. You leapt to your feet and whooped unceremoniously in your gleeful victory. You cast a prideful look down at Bane who never turned to look at you.

“You can come down after you do it five more times.”

    Your shoulders sagged and you audibly groaned, the skin on your belly getting ready to blister from the hot hull of the ship. You could have sworn at the time you had heard your literal and figurative cold blooded companion chuckle.

      You smiled at the memory as you now spoke the words of your mentor to an all too full of himself Zabrak after he hit the floating rock a single time. “We can warm up in the ship after you hit it five more times handsome.” Just as yours had, his shoulders visibly dropped but he said nothing and carried on his target practice.

    When he had accomplished the goal you laid out for him you had reached your limit in the frigid environment. When you left the cavern, the air whipped around you violently while a vicious flurry burned the exposed skin of your face. Snow had piled up even deeper around you and a thick white blanket shielded your view. You hit a button on your vambrace to open the hatch that both you and the Zabrak scurried inside. You shivered wildly as you stripped out of your already soaked outer layers. Blizzards always caught you off guard on Hoth, you hated the planet for a plethora of reasons and would take a planet like Tatooine over this frozen wasteland any day if you had the choice.

    By Maul’s body language you assessed that he would as well. His jaw was clenched yet his body still shook of its own accord from the cold. You set a pot on your stove, readying it to brew life-saving hot caf. While the water boiled you had taken first dibs in the sanistream. Under the hot water you thanked whatever gods were responsible for staving off whatever kind of ‘light heat’ you had experienced. Maul barley waited for you to fully exit the fresher before he was stripping off his tunic an indulging himself in the shower just as you had. You bit back a chuckle while you made your way to the cock pit with steaming caf in hand. You watched the blizzard from the safety and heat provided by the combination of durasteel and trans-durasteel walls of the Wolf, allowing your mind to wander.

    You had never really been a caf drinker when you were a Jedi. Your master couldn’t drink it and most of the others you surrounded yourself with looked down on the drink despite filling themselves with various teas like your old friend. You had always teased Obi Wan for loving the sugary flowery varieties over any else. Like with many other things it was Bane who introduced you to the dark ‘life sustainer’ as he called it. He laughed at how you scrunched your face up the first few times you drank it but after thirty-three hours awake steaking out a quarry you needed the boost to function.

    Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you downed the last of your cup and you sighed at the chore of walking the six meters to the kitchen to pour yourself another cup. Like he could read your mind, and he probably could, Maul’s hand extended from behind you and took your mug. He returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand, and took his seat in the co-pilot’s chair. The two of you continued to watch the snow storm in a comfortable silence.

    The quiet was broken by an incoming holo-comm. You always found the beeping to be unnecessarily jarring when the air was still. Maul simply leaned back in his seat while you answered it, the top half of your favorite Mandalorian appearing in the familiar blue hue, you grinned cheekily at the man who had half-heartedly tried to court you on multiple occasions.

“Mando Fett,” you teased, “What’s up?” His helmeted head lowered slightly in a silent sigh but your companion quickly caught his attention and he straightened his back again.

“Heard you were rolling around with another Alpha.”

“Mmm, yeah, some of what Zeni spills is the truth. Or at least half true. Heard you were the one who gave him the card.”

Maul nodded his head once in greeting to Jango who returned the gesture.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So what’s going on? Need a hand getting out of a sticky spot or do you come with holo-roses this time?” you leaned back and put your feet up on the dash, taking another gulp of caf while waggling your eyebrows at your fellow bounty hunter.

“Neither actually,” he chuckled, “I know how you love a good hunt and I’ve caught word that the Jawas on some back water planet are offering an unusually high price for Mud Horn eggs. Plus their horns always fetch a nice price, someone’s always ready to buy the hides. I figured I’d extend the invitation to you and your cold-blooded outlaw friend. New guy can come along too of course. What do you say, wanna go have some from away from the office?”

“Hmm,” you animatedly tapped a finger to your chin, “the promise of a good hunt, decent credits and you bring the beer, what’s the catch?” you smiled coyly.

“First off, bring your own booze. Secondly,” he unsheathed a large viroblade, “I say we make it interesting.”

“No blasters?”

“No blasters.”

“You’ll have to pry Bane’s from his cold dead hands.” Jango laughed loudly, “please, he’s not just a gunman, he’s an alpha. All I have to do is poke at his pride a bit and he’d take a few down with his bare hands and his teeth just to put all us younglings in our place.”

You laughed this time and turned to your tattooed companion, “what do you say? Wanna take a break from chasing quarries and go on a hunt for a day or two? It’ll still get you credits.”

    Maul took a second to glance around the cock-pit and looked at all the pictures that had been taken from various hunting parties and for the first time in his life he actually had the want to experience something like that. Yes, he had battled and defeated an array of fearsome monsters but it had always been a solo operation and for only the benefits of getting stronger and proving his worth to his master. It seemed like his new peers viewed such acts as a time to be enjoyed and remembered, the promise of credits was an added bonus as well.  

“Alright, a day or two wouldn’t put us behind schedule, would it?” his velvety yet raspy voice that you hadn’t heard in hours cut through you like a lightsaber and you caught your whimper in your throat but not without creasing your brows in annoyance.

“No it wouldn’t. you’ll just be stuck with me a little longer.” He shrugged his shoulders in response so you turned your attention back to the image of the other hunter.

“Alright, we’ll be there. Send me the coordinates. We’re on Hoth at the moment so we’ll be there in however long it takes to meet you leaving from here.”

“I’ll wait just for the sake of missing your complaints of taking a head start.” You couldn’t see his face but you could hear the smile in his voice. You pointed a finger gun in his direction, “head start or not I’ll still bag more eggs and more horns than you.”

The both of you laughed as you hung up the call right before the transmitted coordinates synced in your nav computer. Three Alphas, one Omega, and a promising hunt. This is going to be really fun or go horribly wrong. Either way, you’d get some good pictures out of it.

Taglist:

@thundersheild

@gotham-city-uber-driver

@scorpioxsith

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would’ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. ���Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”

[handwrittenhello]

sweet little lies

Rating: M Warnings: Assassination attempts, poisoning, bombing Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer Word Count: 6.2k Summary: “He’s very…” Geralt trailed off, arms crossed. "Pretty?” Yennefer finished for him, appraising the man in front of her. He seemed entirely unconcerned about his state of near-nudity, and even less concerned about the fact that the entire court was ogling him, including the Warlord of the North and her right-hand man. “Thank you,” the man said, bowing deeply. “I do try.” -- When Yennefer of Vengerberg, Warlord of the North, receives Jaskier as tribute, she doesn't trust him—the rumor is that assassins and spies are trying to infiltrate her court. And despite being sent unwillingly, Jaskier seems perfectly happy—too happy—to be there. As tensions with the bordering country of Rivia grow stronger, she must beware, and figure out who she can truly trust.

or, yet another warlord au (but with warlord yennefer this time), inspired by @inexplicifics! read here on ao3.

“He’s very…” Geralt trailed off, arms crossed.

“Pretty?” Yennefer finished for him, appraising the man in front of her. He seemed entirely unconcerned about his state of near-nudity, and even less concerned about the fact that the entire court was ogling him, including the Warlord of the North and her right-hand man.

“Thank you,” the man said, bowing deeply. “I do try.”

He did indeed try, judging by how heavily his face was made up and by the numerous precious metals and jewels that adorned his ears and fingers and even one nostril. Yennefer didn’t think she’d ever seen more piercings in her life. The wealth the stranger wore on his body was simply astounding. Besides the more conventional jewelry, he also wore a shirt—if one could call it that—of fine gold chains interlaced, studded intermittently with shimmering gems. He wore no trousers, only a sheer wrap accentuated by a belt, made of yet more fine chains entwined. Finishing the ensemble were golden cuffs around his wrists—the entire outfit seemed to subtly shout prisoner, in fact, when she looked for it.

“And who sent you?” she asked, her voice ringing clear through the hall.

“I come to you as a gift, courtesy of King Vizimir of Redania,” the man replied, sinking into another low bow. “Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, Master Bard, and Esteemed Courtesan, at your service, my lady.” He made no mention of his own involvement in the matter, Yennefer noted darkly. She would not take slaves, expensive tribute or not.

But to publicly refuse such a gift would show blatant disfavor, and may spark an unwanted war. “You may tell King Vizimir I accept his gift,” she told the messenger who had accompanied Master Pankratz. “And you,” she turned to Pankratz, “may come with me.” She turned and left the hall, trusting him and Geralt both to follow her.

Whispers rose up in her wake, titters at what she might do with the new esteemed courtesan, but she ignored them. One did not become Warlord of the North by caring what courtly gossip featured oneself.

She pushed open the doors to her room, Pankratz just behind her, and Geralt, silent, bringing up the rear. He was good at that sort of thing—protecting her, always, and always with the taciturn seriousness most knew him for.

Only few knew what truly lurked beneath the surface. She was privy to more than most—as her right-hand man, bodyguard, and occasional lover, he let her see more than most. She could see a hint of it peeking out through his stony exterior now—he was disturbed, unsettled, though she couldn’t tell the cause.

She sat herself in her customary armchair by the hearth, Geralt taking a place looming behind her, and after Pankratz hesitated, she directed him to the armchair across from her. He sank into it quickly, giving the ridiculous impression of a puppy aiming to please its master. She rolled her eyes.

“We can drop the bullshit,” she stated plainly, and his eyes widened. “Do you truly wish to be here? Speak truly.”

He swallowed. “My lady, it is truly the greatest honor to be in your presence—” he began, but Yennefer cut him off with a look.

“I said no more pretty lies. I have enough of those in my court—I don’t need you adding to that pile of shit.” There was little more she despised than venomous intentions disguised. The best attack was one that could be anticipated.

“Very well, my lady. Though it is true I did not come here willingly—” Geralt stiffened at that, his hand going reflexively to the hilt of his sword, though Yennefer gave no outward indication of her disgust. “—I did not come here willingly, but, having found myself in your court, I find that there is little else I could wish for. In truth, I would much prefer here to whence I came.” He said the last bit in a black tone, hinting at some strife Yennefer knew not of.

“Well, I would give you the option, then,” Yennefer replied. “You may leave, if you so wish—I will supply you with enough to get by until you can establish yourself, wherever you may choose to go. I hear Toussaint is nice this time of year.” Pankratz smiled. “Or you may remain in my court, but know this—I tolerate no treachery, no spies, of any sort.” She leaned in close; the smile dropped from his face. “If I discover that you’ve been sent as some foreign agent to engineer my demise—” she locked eyes with him “—your demise will not be swift.” She spoke the last words softly, so softly, but plenty intelligible in the absolute silence of the room. “But you’ll wish it would be.”

Pankratz gulped.

“Have I made myself clear?” she asked, leaning back, releasing him from the uncomfortable closeness.

“Crystal, my lady,” he answered, smiling shakily. “And, if it’s all the same to you, I would rather not try my luck out there. Much easier to earn my keep at the luxury of the court.”

Yennefer wasn’t surprised by the attitude; clearly this was a man well accustomed to luxury. “Very well. And how do you plan to earn your keep?”

“Well, my lady,” he began, voice dropping into a sultry register. “You’ll find that I’m quite good with my fingers and tongue, as it were.” He slid from his chair, somehow managing to make it look effortlessly elegant, and shuffled closer to her on his knees. Geralt stiffened; Yennefer waited for Pankratz to dare touch her. But no touch was forthcoming, despite the strange flutter of arousal in her stomach that spoke to how she almost wanted him to try.

“Presumptuous of King Vizimir,” was all she replied. “And what if I have no need of a bedwarmer?”

Pankratz sat back on his heels. “Well, I have other talents. I studied at Oxenfurt—you may also hear me called Jaskier the Bard, at your service,” he said, giving a little half-bow, all he could manage in a kneeling position. “I would sing of your victories for all to hear and be warned, lest the—the Raven Storm come to batter down their doors!” He punctuated his sentence with a grand gesture, one that nearly knocked him off balance.

“No.”

“N-no, my lady?” Jaskier questioned, his arms dropping. “I can come up with something else, if you don’t like the name—"

“It’s not the name,” Yennefer said dismissively. “It’s the exaggeration. I’ve already told you, I value honesty alone. I won’t have any pretty ballads hiding bastard truths.”

Jaskier looked as though he wanted to argue, but wisely held his tongue. To soften the disappointment, Geralt came around and offered him a hand up. Jaskier took it, and also took a moment to stare appreciatively at Geralt. He was lucky she wasn’t the jealous type—she could have his head for it.

“You may stay,” she declared. “You need not pay for it in my bed, though if you do truly mean what you say, then we can discuss your… talents, as it were. For now, Geralt will find you rooms of your own and show you around the palace. You may have the rest of the day to acclimate, though I expect you in the dining hall tonight at sundown.”

It was a clear dismissal. “Thank you, my lady, you’re too kind,” Jaskier said as Geralt led him out of the room.

“No flattery,” she reminded him, but they were already gone.

Jaskier settled into life at her court like a duck to water. He did indeed have a talented tongue and fingers—which he proved the first time he sang for them, with a lute to accompany it. He bounced around the room, capturing the attention of all he met—he was impossible to ignore, loud and bright as he was, bedecked in jewelry.

Geralt had tried to offer him clothes when he first settled into his rooms, but Jaskier seemed more than content to prance around nearly naked. Geralt hated it—he complained to her, one night, that Jaskier was too distracting, pulling Geralt’s attention away. He took his duties very seriously—formerly a knight of Rivia, he now devoted himself to her with the same near-religious fervor, taking her protection upon himself.

It was sweet, if a little misguided. She could protect herself just as well, but it was nice knowing that he was there behind her, always ready to support her if she faltered.

“I don’t like it, Yen,” he said to her, late one night, as the fire burned down to embers in the hearth. They were curled side by side in her bed, sweat cooling on their damp bodies, Geralt occupying himself by playing with strands of her hair. “Unrest in Rivia is growing stronger—we could have a revolt on our hands before the harvest.”

“I’m not worried about Rivia,” Yennefer replied, waving a hand lazily. “Little more than whispers on the wind. King Reginald, gods spit on his soul, has too few supporters left to be any real threat. The rest either died with him in the coup or fled like the cowards they were.”

“I’m serious, Yen. Word on the street is that there’ll be an attempt on your life before the year is out.” A furrow creased his brow, his fingers growing tense in her hair. Gently, she disentangled them before lacing their fingers together.

“Is that not what I have you for?” she asked, a smile quirking her lips. He worried too much—his consternation was almost cute. “Relax. If any assault comes, we’ll be well prepared for it.”

“It won’t be anything as obvious as an attack on the city. Rivian forces are smart—they’ll send spies, or assassins, or both. You wouldn’t even see it coming.”

“If it will make you feel better, then you may begin vetting those in the court you find suspicious,” Yennefer relented.

Geralt hummed, his eyes slipping closed in satisfaction. She too closed her eyes, but the thought nagged at her—did she trust everyone in the palace? Most of them she’d known for decades—they’d worked under King Demavend with her, and had helped her overthrow him when he became too cruel to stand. She’d rewarded their loyalty with a place at her side, and they’d remained trustworthy through the years.

There had been few new arrivals since then—Geralt himself was among them, having joined her during the Coup of Rivia. And of course there was their newest arrival, Jaskier.

He seemed perfectly content in his new role. She had to admit it suited him well—he loved attention, and got it in spades when singing or when draped seductively next to her throne. He made good decoration, though she had yet to negotiate a more intimate role with him. She never held back from staring, though—and though he often caught her, he seemed pleased more than anything else.

Was he too comfortable here? It was true, he had settled in remarkably quickly—did he have a hidden purpose? But what use would King Vizimir have for a spy in her court, especially one as useless as Jaskier? He wasn’t present at any strategy meetings, or even privy to her company more than most. Perhaps he was an assassin biding his time?

Yennefer huffed. This was how paranoia set in—whispers and rumors crept in and set the mind aflame with possibilities until it drove itself mad. She resolutely cleared all thoughts of betrayal from her mind and tried to sleep.

Geralt commenced his investigation as soon as he was able, but Yennefer heard little else from him about it. She assumed that meant the search for traitors was proving unfruitful.

She interrupted him one day with a task at the southern border—there were reports of skirmishes breaking out, most likely bandit attacks. He departed with a promise to return by the month’s end, and she watched him leave with a pit in her stomach.

It wasn’t the first time they’d parted—so why was her stomach twisting so? Why were her instincts screaming that it would all go wrong?

There was nothing to worry about. She needed to take her mind off it, that was all. She went back into the palace and headed for the southern wing—where Jaskier’s rooms were.

“My lady Yennefer!” he greeted her happily, springing from his writing desk upon her entrance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Then he paused, frowned. “Where’s your shadow? I can’t hardly think of a time I haven’t seen him hovering menacingly over your shoulder.”

“He’s away for the time being.” She motioned him closer, and he went as if reeled in by a fishing line.

“Luckily you still have me,” he replied, biting his lip. He was yet unsure of his advances—good. She would keep him on his toes.

“And would you give yourself to me?” she asked, stepping even closer, until there were scant few inches between them. “Let me have you?”

“In a heartbeat, if my lady so wished,” he breathed, leaning in. She didn’t wait for his lips to brush hers; she surged forward at once, attacking with brutal efficiency. The kiss was more a clash of wills than anything tender. To her delight, he didn’t simply let her plunder his mouth, but gave as good as he got, hands coming up to clutch at her dress. She pushed him away, and his face split with confusion until she pushed him again, back onto the bed. His hands fisted in the covers as she climbed on top of him, finding the clasps that would free him from the confines of the chains that draped over his body.

Soon she had stripped the gold and gems from his body, and at some point her own clothes had disappeared as well, and finally she was free to take him how she wished. He was a good lover, enthusiastic and skilled—his talents truly were as good as he’d made them out to be.

Her only point of contention came near the end, when he began to murmur sweet nothings into her hair, praising her and begging in turn. Even after, when they lay panting atop the sheets, he continued to weave pretty lies, complimenting her prowess and beauty until she rolled over and pinned him down.

“What have I said about lying?” she bit, but there was no real heat to it.

“And as I’ve told you a dozen times, I speak nothing but the truth,” he replied, “but if you wish my silence, well—I suppose you’ll have to find a way to shut me up.” He grinned.

She was gratified to see that he was no longer the deferential pretty thing that had been gifted to her, but had instead grown into his role here and thus felt comfortable enough to tease and prod.

In fact, as the days passed and they spent more time together, he turned downright annoying, at times, whining about how cruel silver was to his skin—did she know that he was one sixty-fourth fae? How it itched so—but gold didn’t go as well with his complexion, and really, he should be wearing sapphires, not rubies, since they brought out the blue of his eyes better…

Yennefer tolerated it with confused amusement for all of one day before she took his suggestion and found ways to occupy his mouth, just so that the inane chatter would stop.

She was almost disappointed when the day that Geralt would return drew near. She looked forward to his triumphant return, of course, but she was apprehensive of how he would react to her getting so close to Jaskier in his absence. She was lucky that she didn’t have to contend with jealousy from him—he simply wasn’t the type—but nor did she want him to distance himself from her, afraid of intruding on something new.

And though she’d succeeded, for the most part, at distracting herself from his absence, she couldn’t shake the sense of dread that still came over her at odd times when she thought of him. He was plenty capable; there was nothing to worry about, she knew, and yet that didn’t stop her traitorous heart.

As the days passed, however, with no sign of his imminent return—not even a letter—she knew her worry was well-founded. On the second day of the new month—two weeks since she’d last seen him—she resolved to ride to the border with all the forces she could gather.

Jaskier worried at her departure—“My lady, you would leave the palace so defenseless?”—but she would not be swayed.

“You’ll be fine. The city can protect itself; you need not worry about a thing.”

“It’s not myself I worry for,” he replied flatly, a moue of displeasure overtaking his face. He didn’t grace her bed that night, and she resolutely told herself she wasn’t bothered.

The sun rose early, and she with it, saddling her horse and donning her armor. The air held a chill, heralding the coming of autumn, though it was unusual so early in the season. As the morning mists in the fields began to burn off, she and her forces rode out, heading south.

They were scarcely a mile away from the palace when she spotted something on the horizon. She called them to a halt, sending ahead scouts to report on what the disturbance was. They returned in short order, shouting joyously—Knight Geralt was returned, unharmed, though he’d lost his men in the interim.

“Yen,” he greeted her warmly, pulling short his ill-tempered mare as he approached. She seemed especially ornery today, hardly responding to his commands, but Yennefer supposed that after weeks on the road, she would be ornery too. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You should be,” she answered, but couldn’t maintain her anger for long, not upon seeing him safe and whole. “What took so long? And where are the men who accompanied you?”

He frowned. “They’re not back yet? I’d thought they’d arrive first.”

“No, we’ve heard nothing since you left. What happened?” It was unlike Geralt to leave his men behind—his sense of chivalry demanded otherwise.

“It wasn’t bandits at the border—it was Rivian insurgents making trouble. Easy enough to mop up, but in the fight, I got separated. Ended up having to lay low for a few days in Spalla. I gave the men instructions to return to Vengerberg if anything went wrong.”

“Do you think they’re still out looking for you?” Damned loyalty. While she valued it, it often proved to be quite the pain in difficult situations.

“Could be. We ought to send another team out, round them up.” She was grateful that he didn’t suggest going back to look for them himself—she would have expected that from him, stubborn as he was, but she wasn’t ready to lose him again so soon.

She motioned over the captain of her guard, Ivenka. “Take your best fighters and track down our poor wayward soldiers.”

“Yes, my lady,” Ivenka replied. The party split; Yennefer and Geralt led the rest of the forces back to Vengerberg.

Upon their return, Jaskier launched into a rousing song of victory—if he was surprised to see them back so soon, he didn’t show it. Geralt bore the attention as he always did, with an uncomfortable grimace. Once the commotion settled, Yennefer pulled Geralt into her rooms for a full report on what he’d found at the Rivian border.

“The talk of insurgence was right. A resistance has formed, with more support than we thought. King Reginald had more friends than we knew.” Geralt delivered the bad news with no inflection, which was how Yennefer knew it was a grave matter indeed.

“A resistance? How strong would you say? Have they any support from the commonfolk?” That was how battles were won, Yennefer knew—it all depended on the attitude of the peasantry. If their favor had shifted against her, they could expect full-blown war within the year.

“Not yet, though they’ve changed the minds of a few. More than anything they’ve sown dissent—talk of crop shortages, of trade disturbed. Trying to make you out to be just as bad as Reginald.”

Yennefer cursed. “We need to head this off before it grows any worse.”

“Parley? They might be open to discussion—this incursion may have been a way to get our attention.”

Yennefer nodded. “Send a messenger at once,” she instructed.

Geralt inclined his head in acquiescence and left her to her thoughts.

He had been right about the coming rebellion—was he also to be believed about the rumored attempts on her life? She would have to keep her guard up.

They received the Rivians a few nights hence at a banquet, meant as both a display of wealth and numbers. The entire court was assembled, and the visiting party arrived wide-eyed and trying to hide it.

Yennefer herself was seated upon her throne in full gilded plate armor—everything but a helmet. Geralt stood beside her, arms crossed, a scowl writ upon his face, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. And on her other side, draped across the arm of the throne, was Jaskier, in his finest jewels and with a full face of makeup, not looking even a bit vulnerable though he wore almost nothing.

“Yennefer of Vengerberg,” the man leading the visiting party said, inclining his head in lieu of a bow. Beside her, Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “I am Gudros of Scala, and accompanying me are Velah of Hawksburne and Ozrias of Scala.” He gestured to the two behind him, who had so far stood silent and still, their expressions unreadable beneath their helmets.

“Vengerberg welcomes you,” Yennefer announced. “You may partake of food and rest from your journey. Once you’ve had your fill we may retire for more formal talk.” Gudros bowed his head again, and the feast resumed.

“I don’t like this,” Geralt murmured, barely audible over the voices and instruments overlapping in the hall. Yennefer glanced up at him—he looked torn, lips pursed and hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

“Keep an eye on them for me?” she replied. He nodded and slipped away—Yennefer looked forward to his report on what they were saying.

She was so intent on watching the Rivians that she hardly noticed it when an attendant approached with a tray carrying goblets of wine. “Milady,” he greeted, offering her a glass. She reached out to take it, but was beaten there by Jaskier, who snatched it out of the attendant’s hands before she could.

He grinned cheekily at her—this was almost too bold. She’d have to put him in his place later tonight. But she let him have it and reached for her own goblet, just as Jaskier took a sip of the wine.

The smell hit her nose as soon as she raised the glass to her lips. It was hardly detectable, but she’d learned a thousand and one ways under King Demavend’s reign to brew poisons—she recognized instantly the characteristic sour odor it held, the way it slid, oily, down one’s throat, the way it burned from the inside out.

She threw the goblet to the floor, heedless of the way that it shattered into a million pieces. “Geralt!” she screamed, wrenching Jaskier’s goblet from him—though it was already falling from his stiff fingers, his eyes bulging and his face reddening in mere moments.

Geralt appeared at her side instantly, as if he’d never left. Seeing Jaskier in trouble, he threw the consort over his broad shoulders and followed Yennefer as she fled to her old workshop—Goddess willing, she would still have enough ingredients to prepare an antidote, though it had been years since she’d set foot there.

The doors flew open under her hands, dust swirling about the room and cobwebs shuddering in the sudden breeze. Yennefer drew on the spark of chaos buried deep inside her, hardly used, but called forth in full force now. The torches flared to life at once, jars and pots flying off the shelves into her hands.

Geralt laid Jaskier down on the worktable in the middle of the room, now wheezing and coughing, spittle flecking his lips. “Yen,” he tried to wheeze, but she paid him no mind. She needed every ounce of concentration to prepare the antidote, something she hadn’t done in years.

“Mistletoe… wartweed… ground lichen…” she muttered, adding each ingredient in turn. The potion began to bubble, a haze descending on the workshop as it released puffs of smoke.

“Yen, he's not breathing,” Geralt called, and she cursed, stirring faster. Finally, finally, the sickly shade of green gave way to a deep turquoise, and then a solid blue. She rushed to Jaskier’s side, forcing his mouth open with one hand and pouring the antidote down his throat.

He convulsed, and, sensing that he was about to spit it up, she clamped his mouth and nose shut, putting her full weight into holding him down as his limbs juddered and jerked. But with no other choice, he eventually swallowed, his throat spasming under her harsh grip, and then he went abruptly lax.

She took her hands away, letting him breathe—it was a long, tense moment of waiting before he took an easy breath, no wheeze present. Yennefer breathed too, the tension lifting from her shoulders.

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze flitted around the room for a moment, landing first on Geralt and then on herself. “Yen,” he said urgently, struggling to sit up. “You’re alright?”

“Of course I am,” she snapped. “I’m not the idiot that drank poison.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he sighed. “I mean, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t want to die for nothing—”

Yennefer froze. “You had a suspicion?”

“Well, yes,” he answered, frowning. “I highly doubted the Rivians were here under good intentions, and as Geralt has been saying, an attempt on your life was bound to come sooner or later, so—”

“You knew it would be poisoned, and yet you drank anyway? Why the fuck would you do that, Jaskier?” She dug her nails into the tabletop, itching to wring them around his neck.

What sort of fool would knowingly drink poison? Only the braindead or suicidal, and while Yennefer did hold his sanity in question at times, it still didn’t make sense.

He blinked. “Do you really have to ask? It’s as I’ve told you a thousand times in a thousand ways.”

No. No, he couldn’t mean—

“I love you, Yennefer of Vengerberg. I would, in fact, die for you, as we’ve proven.” He grinned. “Don’t say I never live up to my promises.”

While, yes, he’d said as much before, it still stunned Yennefer to hear it said so blatantly, and with such tangible commitment. She’d thought them pretty lies, the fanciful words of a jester that wanted only to flatter his lord.

Unable to come up with a response, she turned and fled. If she stayed in that room, she might end up saying or doing something she would later regret—whether that was wring his fool neck or have him right there on the table, she would never know.

So caught up was she in whirling thoughts of truth and lies, she didn’t notice Geralt was following her until she was nearly to her rooms. “I don’t want company right now, Geralt,” she said tersely, whirling around.

“We need to talk,” Geralt replied, stepping closer. “The Rivians—”

“Leave me alone!” she snarled, which was enough to make him pause, giving her time to dart into her rooms and slam the door behind her. She locked them with a fierce finality, relishing the heavy click that signified she was alone with her thoughts. She pressed her back to the door and her hands to her eyes, seeing the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the pressure.

If she could have but a moment to think, to sort out the mess of thoughts churning in her mind—but no, even now, she could hear raised voices, shouting, the clang of steel on steel. What kind of leader was she, cowering in her rooms like a confused animal, simply because of an ill-timed, unexpected confession of love?

She straightened her armor and drew her swords before opening the door and heading out to face whatever chaos lay in wait. As she grew closer, the voices grew more panicked, and she hurried her steps along until she was nearly running.

Jaskier came stumbling out of her workroom, looking worse for the wear and confused, searching for the source of the commotion the same as she was. “Go lie down,” she snapped. “I just saved your life. I don’t need you undoing all my hard work.”

“But what’s happening? Where’s Geralt?” he asked, craning his head. Then he spotted the swords she carried. “What do you need those for?”

She started to reply, and then—

An explosion. All-consuming, fiery hot, ripping her eardrums apart. She flew backwards and hit the wall, stunned. Through blurry vision, she saw Jaskier tossed like a ragdoll, slumped opposite her, bleeding from the temple.

Her ears were ringing; she blinked. Chunks of stone rained down on her like hailstones, a fine white powder covering everything in a thin layer of dust.

Slowly, slowly, her vision stabilized and her hearing began to return—the first thing she heard were screams.

Her people—she had to help her people. She tried to struggle to her feet, but it was as if her limbs were encased in plaster. She looked down and saw that a large chunk of stone was pinning her legs to the ground—with monumental effort, she lifted it off herself, grunting. She closed her eyes and breathed, in, out, and then staggered upwards.

She checked on Jaskier first—he had a head wound, bleeding profusely, but nothing more serious than that. She clumsily slapped his cheeks a few times until he roused, groaning, eyes squinting shut.

“Are you alright?” she shouted, her own voice hardly reaching her ears. He nodded, eyes still closed, and she left him to recover. Staggering into the hall, she took in the sight before her—it was as if a bomb had gone off, and maybe it had.

The entire hall was bathed in sepia-toned light, the torches guttering in and out in the wake of the blast. Chunks of stone and broken pieces of furniture littered the floor, which had fallen through to the dungeons below. To her surprise and immense thankfulness, there were few bodies—perhaps they’d had advance warning and had fled, screaming.

Four people stood in the middle of it all—she recognized Gudros, flanked by Ozrias and Velah. The fourth had hair as white as bone—“Geralt?” she called, and he slowly turned around. Wrong, wrong, wrong, all her senses screamed.

“Not quite.” He laughed, a chilling sound, unlike Geralt’s own rare laugh in every way. She knew then—this wasn’t Geralt. This hadn’t been Geralt for a good while.

“When?” she asked, though she knew exactly when. It had been that damned trip to the border. “Who are you? Really?”

“We are the rightful leaders of a free Rivia, and we would see her prosper once more, no longer under your bloody banner!” Gudros cried. “You have bewitched Rivia’s citizens. We’ll not see you reign any longer!”

“I’ve bewitched no one,” Yennefer snapped. “If you speak of your loyal knights turning against you—that was your king’s own doing, with his wicked deeds and cruel heart.”

“No! Geralt of Rivia was a good man—we’ll break whatever spell you’ve placed on him, right after we parade your desecrated body through the streets!”

Not-Geralt smiled, all teeth, and dropped the illusion—suddenly, he had changed forms, and now appeared as Yennefer herself. “You’re a doppler,” she said, teeth gritted. “What stake have you in this fight?”

“I’ve lived a long life, you know. To tell you the truth, I’ve grown rather bored with it—and what better game to play than this?”

“You’re sick,” Yennefer spat. “You’ve aligned yourself with murderers and oathbreakers.”

“Would you have me align myself with you, Kingslayer?” the doppler purred. “I see it all, you know—I’m in your head. I see how you kill, and lie, even to yourself.”

With a wordless yell of rage, Yennefer threw herself at the doppler, who met her swords with a sword of its own. It was an even match—perfectly even, with all her skill as a fighter reflected back at her. And with the other three Rivians advancing, it looked to be a quick end for her.

Her people would die, and Jaskier would be captured and most likely enslaved, and Geralt would remain captive to those who believed him brainwashed, subject to tortures as they attempted to break whatever enchantment they believed lay over him. And she would be brought up as an example, her dead body held up to the world to say: this is what happens to those who fight back.

She dodged the first swipe of Gudros’ sword, but it left her open for the doppler to press her back, putting her off-balance. Her foot caught on a chunk of rubble and she teetered backwards, falling to the ground, the doppler pouncing on her at once.

“Here lies the Raven Storm; blustered herself out, little stronger than a gust of wind at the end,” the doppler cackled. Yennefer looked into its eyes—her eyes—and braced herself for the end.

And then a chain looped around the doppler’s neck, choking, burning. The skin beneath the silver links smoked and cracked, blackening, the doppler’s hands scrabbling uselessly at the chain and burning too.

Yennefer looked up to see Jaskier standing tall behind the doppler, one of his many decorative body chains in his hands, his face creased in furious fierceness. Yennefer pushed the doppler off of her, rolling to the side just in time to avoid yet another blow from Gudros. She yelled inarticulately and stabbed upwards, piercing his gut through. Without bothering to check if he was dead, Yennefer turned to Velah and Ozrias, both of whom were advancing on Jaskier, swords drawn.

“Behind you,” she shouted, and he ducked a swipe meant to behead him. She darted over and shoved Velah away with a kick to the side, and in the same motion brought her sword up to parry Ozrias’ next strike. Behind her, she heard the doppler let out a guttural noise and collapse—hopefully dead—and out of the corner of her eye she spotted Jaskier trying to avoid Velah’s wildly swinging sword. He barely dodged the last one, and earned himself a neat score along his cheek, blood pouring forth from the small wound.

Luckily, Ozrias proved to be a rather weak swordfighter, and she killed him with a swift dodge and counterattack, cutting off his head in one swift motion. She threw herself in between Jaskier and Velah just in time, handily disarming her while Jaskier cowered and yelped behind her.

Pointing her sword straight at Velah’s throat, Yennefer demanded, “Where is he?”

Velah threw her hands up. “He’s in Spalla. Please, don’t kill me.”

Yennefer narrowed her eyes. “You hurt what’s mine.”

“Please, mercy—” She didn’t finish; she was dead before her body hit the floor. Mercy granted her a quick death, but nothing more. Not after kidnapping her right-hand man, her lover, not after bombing her palace and killing her people, not after hurting Jaskier.

Jaskier took in a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “Whoo. That’s enough excitement for me, I think. I need to sit down,” he said, and sat down right there in the middle of the wreckage.

Yennefer busied herself with cleaning her sword. “So you don’t want to come to Spalla with me?” she asked casually, and he sprang back up to his feet—albeit shakily.

“No, no, I’m in! Someone has to write sweeping songs of your victories there.” He paused. “Just, maybe, a moment to catch my breath? I’ve never really—ah—never had to fight for my life before. Never killed anyone, either. I think my body might be shutting down?” he squeaked, sinking to his knees. “My—my heart is beating so fast, gods, and my hands feel all tingly, and I’m shaking—”

“That’s the adrenaline,” Yennefer answered, kneeling down as well. “It will pass.”

“Good. Because this—well, is this what you feel all the time?” He looked up at her, a dawning sort of respect in his gaze.

She shrugged. “You get used to it eventually. But yes, more or less.”

“Color me impressed, then.” As they spoke, the color began to return to his cheeks, and his frantic breathing slowed, and his shaking died down. “Alright. I’m feeling better, I think.”

“Good,” she echoed, sheathing her sword and helping him up. “Because now we ride for Rivia.”

“To Rivia,” he repeated. “Hey, do you think Geralt will be impressed? Bet he’s never killed a doppler before.”

“Shut up, Jaskier,” she replied, but couldn’t hide the small smile that graced her face.

Her palace was in ruins, and Geralt had been kidnapped, and they were about to go to war with Rivia for the second time, but somehow she knew—it would be alright.

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[theelvenhaven]

Reunions in Arda

Part 1

Vanifinwë x Fëanorians

5.3k words

Warnings: 

Strong language, 

Implied nudity, 

A/N: I changed around in which the news was broken to her! But tada!

* * * 

Exhaustion filled her as she sat atop the mare the elves of her brothers provided her and Nolofinwë. Upon their arrival to Arda, her brothers Pages greeted them, telling them to come and meet with the Fëanorians. With hesitation, Nolofinwë agreed, and Vanifinwë jumped at the chance. She needed to hear the explanation from her brothers on why her brothers did what they did. 

Perhaps even part of her missed them as well. Yet that factor would be decided upon, which would depend on everything they had to say for themselves. What they’d done was completely unforgivable, but she needed to perceive if they held a shred of remorse for what they’d done. Vanifinwë needed to see if her brothers were as heartless as they led her to think they were.

They did the ride in silence and it appeared she was not the only one who was unsure of what to say. Even as their settlement came into view, it only left them somber and quiet. Vanifinwë couldn’t help but wonder how much time passed in their crossing that her brother’s already established houses. Actual houses...

Houses of stone erected in the elvish fashion, though the roads still dirt… A large building coming ever nearer. Grand and ornate as it could be, with few tents established for the artisans who were still there to complete other things. Eru... 

In reserve, she looked to Nolofinwë. The two exchanged a solemn glance. A glance they shared and were both determining they were thinking the same thing about the time passed.

Vanifinwë shuddered as another icy wind ripped through the air. It was nothing compared to the Helcaraxe. Her clothes were still too light even for this “warmer” temperature.

As they came upon the dirt and grass courtyard, and greeted by the sight of five of her brothers. A small fountain behind them, water trickled out, with shrubs around it… Workers bustled about outside working on Eru knew what. Quietly Vanifinwë let her eyes scan over them, Makalaurë stood in the center, clearly the one to greet and welcome them.

Tyelkormo and Curufinwë to her left of Makalaurë, and Minyarussa and Carnistir to her right… All dressed in thick tunics and heavy fur cloaks, each one looked positively warm and comfortable. She’d give anything for dry warm clothes, as it was cold enough her clothes never dried since their arrival from the Helcaraxe. Even though they’d ridden for some time now, the newly fashioned sun hidden behind clouds heavy and swelling with snow which threatened to fall upon them any moment now. 

“Uncle, truly it is good to see you.” Makalaurë began as they dismounted from their horses, turning her gaze to Nolofinwë who sighed, nodding at his nephew’s reception. The warmth in which he’d once have shown them he masked beneath a more stoic and hard exterior now, something they plainly expected. 

“I want to say the same, nephew. But I fear for the moment I do not share the sentiment. Not until I have further explanation as to what all has happened.” Nolofinwë spoke in an even tone, dampening his own anger that he felt swell over the gentleness in which Makalaurë spoke. Vanifinwë noted how none of her brothers seemed to have registered her presence yet, all too fixated in their nervousness upon their Uncle.

“I sure as the Void would love an explanation as well.” She spoke up with a fire in her voice. One that finally unleashed the heat of her hurt through her hroa and fea. She stepped up to be next to Nolofinwë, her head held high despite the shivers that had ripped through her. Surprise rippled through her brothers as their gazes fell upon her form. 

“Vanie! You came!” Makalaurë breathed out with surprise. He moved to step closer, in hopes to embrace her, yet he stopped short of getting any further as she sent a glare in his direction. One that made his blood run cold as their father’s fire blazed with contempt in her gaze, a look he had not seen since before their Atar succumbed to his injuries. 

“Don’t.” She fumed out, not up for any of his affections as she had for years to let the anger she felt over what they had done fester. Not just to her, but to the Teleri, to her Uncle and those who followed him. Makalaurë shouldn’t have been so surprised. Of course she’d be angry. It had been him and Maitimo who had given her the epesse Failendis, and it hadn’t been for nothing.

“Is that anyway to greet us, Vanie?” Tyelkormo scoffed as he tilted his head with a glare shot in her direction, silver hair spilling over his shoulder as he did so. Yet Vanifinwë was unmoved by his sarcastic reaction, only tensing her jaw at his words as if he had any right to complain about how she greeted them. 

“Forgive me if your betrayal hasn’t exactly left the warmest impressions upon me, brother. Where is Atar? And the rest of our brothers, Makalaurë?” Vanfinwe said. Her words dripped with venom as she referred to him as her brother. Nolofinwë’s hand came to her shoulder. He attempted to soothe and comfort her, not wanting for her to lash out any further and be thrown from the settlement. 

“Betrayal!? You are one to speak, dear sister.” Carnistir began out in a hiss as Curufinwë moved to approach. Were Vanifinwë not used to her own arguments with her Atar, she may have felt intimidated by her brothers. 

Yet she was unfazed. How many times had she and Fëanaro gotten into their arguments regarding politics and semantics? How many times had she argued with them or broken up their fights?

“You betrayed us! Refused to take up the oath! Yet you have the audacity to still follow and come here as if you have any right to be here!” Curufinwë seethed out in addition, stopping as Makalaurë held out his hand as he turned some to face his brother.

“Enough brothers...” Makalaure said in a breath, as Curufinwe seemed to relent at his brothers pressing. The tensions had risen at an insurmountable level already, and Vanifinwë had just arrived. Nolofinwë said not a word to address the fire that blazed between siblings. He turned his focus onto the questions Vanifinwë had asked them. Nolofinwe knew it was better to leave those issues between them, she without a doubt knew better than anyone on how to hold her own against them.

Though he confessed to himself, he feared just how far their madness ran. If harm would come to her should they all decide she was a traitor. Vanifinwë may have been their sister, but that didn’t change the fact times were undeniably different.

“Where is my brother? For I would like to speak to him.” Deciding that perhaps he had descended so far into deep madness that he wouldn’t greet him, and the other two Fëanorians were with him. Had Maitimo and Atyarussa bought into their father’s whims now as well? It unnerved him further to see the hesitation that seemed to fall upon the brothers. All five of them looked between each other and then to Makalaurë to answer for them.

“We shall discuss it, both on Atar, Maitimo and Atyarussa. First though, let us extend to you hospitality my Atar had lacked Uncle, sister.” Makalaurë stepped aside and motion for them to walk to enter the center building. Vanifinwë only budged when Nolofinwë did and followed alongside him and Makalaurë. 

“We can discuss it after you both have eaten and changed into something warmer.” Makalaurë insisted, yet Nolofinwë shook his head at his words as they paused in the grand foyer. Boots scuffed against the stone floor, and warmth that grew to be a luxury to them now filled the room. Vanifinwë shuddered with a sigh as she folded her arms over her chest.

“No, I will speak now on whatever it you have to share.” Nolofinwë began with a frown. Rather than argue, Makalaurë nodded at his uncle’s words.

“Very well, then come with me. Vanifinwë, Minyarussa will take you to where you can change and eat.” Yet she gave a severe frown, as she desperately wanted to go with him to know as soon as possible what was going on. Not ready to part from her uncle who she had spent the whole crossing with. For now, he was the only other family member she could confidently trust outside of her cousins. Nolofinwë sensed the obvious hesitance in Vanifinwe and with care placed his hand once more on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Go take the time to rest, I will deal with your father.” He said to her tenderly, yet there was firmness there to it. Vanifinwë knew better than to argue with him at this point. He had been the whole reason she had survived the crossing. As several times she had come far too close to losing her life, it was thanks to Nolo that she pushed so hard. At this, she nodded and allowed for her brother to lead her from the foyer.

Minyarussa led her up the staircase and down a hallway in unnatural silence. It felt strained and uncomfortable. It was something that was tense and morose, even in his gait and in his shoulders. Yet Vanifinwë decided against pressing and that the emotional distance she was sharing with her brothers was the best thing for her to do. 

The two came to a door down the long corridor, as Minyarussa motioned for her to open it. Still silent, and those pale blue eyes refused to meet with hers before he left her to enter and change. He didn’t even instruct on where to find, well… anything. 

Vanifinwë opened the door to find a well-furnished bedroom, and she shut the door behind her and locked it. A large double bed in the center of the room with heavy red duvets and soft looking pillows… Something that was so tempting for her to climb upon and just give into the exhaustion that filled her body. 

It had been so long since she had last been in a bed, yet she knew if she sat down now she’d never get out of it and would sleep for days… Maybe even weeks with as tired as she felt. Pressing on she moved to the dresser, one of a warm stained wood, opening it to find elleth’s clothing stuffed inside. Sifting through each drawer to find under garments, skirts, tunics and dresses of heavy material.

Wasting no time, Vanifinwë shed her cold and wet clothes. Letting them pool around her feet as she slipped her arms from the sleeves, before she kicked them off to the side. While so exposed without a fire in the hearth, gooseflesh riddled her skin as she shivered and shuddered. She hurried to slip into the warm fleece undergown, before putting on the gown that went over it. 

Finally, some warmth filled her as she had sufficient and dry clothing to trap her own body heat. Pulling her inky hair from beneath the confinement of her gown, letting it cascade down her back, breathing a sigh of relief, moving to look in the armoire closest to the bed to see if shoes were there.

Pulling it open, she found cloaks and silken gowns hung from hangers in a sea of red and black, with slippers arranged with precision at the bottom in varied sizes. For guests to pick the sizes that they needed. She chose a black pair that were about her size, before hurriedly closing the doors and moved to leave the room just as rushed. Fearful if she stayed any longer than she’d definitely go to sleep. 

But first, before she even considered it, Vanifinwe needed to know where her relatives were and to eat a meal. Vanifinwe hoped it was going to be something hearty and less like... bread. Her mouth watering at the very idea, though she turned her attention to find Minyarussa or the kitchen’s first… 

She walked back through the hall towards the way she entered. Vanifinwe paused as she looked over the tapestries that hung on the wall. With details of the House crest upon them, and details of the ships of the Teleri… Vanifinwe could not decide if they were there to glorify the theft or as a reminder of what they had wrought…

She hoped they were there as a solemn reminder and not for glorification, but for the lack of slaughtered elves and burning of their swan ships… Vanifinwë held her doubts. This did not help with the impression she was under about them for the time, though she wondered if that was perhaps what was so different about Minyarussa.

With a sigh, she moved to the stairs and away from the tapestries; she tried to put her focus elsewhere, wanting first to hear their side of things before she continued to assume. At the bottom she found Minyarussa. With patience he waited for her, standing stone still, and he glanced down at the floor.

Vanifinwë needn’t announce herself, as expectantly Minyarussa walked through the foyer once she descended. He led her into a small and private dining room, a word not spoken as he hurried from the room and through another door. A table standing in the center with just enough chairs for each of the Feanorians present, it was good to see that perhaps they all still did meals together…

Minyarussa had returned not even a few moments later without a sound, setting the bowl down carefully full of a warm stew before Vanifinwë took her place at it. She waited to see if Minyarussa would join her, but once more he left her alone to eat.

She wondered what indeed could’ve transpired to have traumatized him so deeply? Did the effects of the Kinslaying get to him, perhaps? Despite herself, she sympathized if he did, as the memories of what had transpired over the years plagued her every waking moment… Vanifinwë didn’t want to imagine what it would finally be like when she closed her eyes. 

Mindlessly she ate, not even savoring the way any of it tasted. All of her thoughts ran and spilled over themselves, full of questions in relation to her now estranged siblings. Struggling to ignore the slight dread that hung heavy in her stomach of the idea of being rejected further, even if she was furious with everything that they had done. 

Now that she had seen them again, she had the slightest sliver of hope that perhaps they were redeemable. Even if she knew her Atar were not, though, that would be the next hurdle. Dealing with her Atar, who seemed to have so blatantly disowned her before her brothers. She and Nolofinwë had yet to have been thrown from the dwelling, so perhaps this was a good sign. Or did he not mention her to him in fear of what would happen?

Vanifinwë didn’t even know what it was she would even say to him once she saw him… All she felt was just intense anger the more she thought about him and his treatment of other people.

It was as she was down to the last bites of the warm meal that Minyarussa seemed to reappear, waving for her to follow. In her rush did she almost throw her spoon down and feel her heart leap into her throat in anticipation of what was to come. Eagerly she followed right after Minyarussa, who rushed once more through the foyer and down another hall… This place was endless in the halls that it had already…

The two made several twists and turns until they came to another door, with Nolofinwë who stood just next to it in silence. A worried expression on his face. This did not settle the nerves that she felt. Nor did he turn to face and greet her as Minyarussa opened up the door, revealing all four of her brothers that sat in solemn silence. 

Without a word, Vanifinwë moved to take her place in the closest chair to the door. Her eyes ran over all of their figures. Makalaurë stood still and to the left of her, leaned against the wall, looking at the floor. His arms folded over his chest. Silken black hair shielding part of his face, so his expressions were unreadable. 

Carnistir, just across from her on a settee, leaned back with his brows furrowed deeper than usual, though she couldn’t tell if his face was any redder. With the orange glow of the hearth- to their right- exaggerated it, and Curufinwe was just next to him with a tall glass of wine in hand, as he stared Vanifinwe down intensely. With Tyelkormo, who paced behind them with Minyarussa just behind her… Though there was an addition to the room.

Tyelperinquar… A face she definitely hadn’t seen in ages, it felt like. One that she always surprised her. As Tyelperinquar chose not to follow Nolofinwë and herself, considering he took no part in the Kinslaying despite being present for it. 

“Where are Maitimo and Atya? And Atar?” Vanifinwë began, the first to break the silence, leaning back in her chair as she crossed one leg over the other. Watching as Makalaure moved from his place on the wall, 

“They are not here, Vanie.” He answered with simplicity, and with a heavy sigh which made her furrow her brows at his words. She watched them all with suspicion as tension filled the room. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as Vanifinwe thought.

“Well, where are they, Makalaurë?” She pressed her voice still even, despite the dread that filled her stomach, for whatever the answer may be. Makalaure ran a hand through his hair, deep blue eyes transfixed on the hearth before him, unable to face his sister.

“Morgoth captured Maitimo some time ago.” Makalaurë began and at this Vanifinwë felt the air leave her lungs as she sat up with abruptness. Her heart dropped into her stomach with a heavy thud. She stared up at him in utter disbelief, 

“How? Why!” She pressed harder, panic rose in her chest and made its way into her voice. Fear all but consumed her, for the words that may follow and say that he was dead… Her sapphire blue eyes raced to scan her brothers, who all looked away from her, including Curufinwe. 

“He had agreed to meet with Morgoth, after the Dark Vala claimed to surrender a Silmaril… Yet he was told to come alone. Maitimo brought a small embassy with him, despite the request. When he had not returned and we went and searched for him… We found the whole embassy slaughtered, but Maitimo was nowhere to be found.” Makalaure spoke in monotone, numb to the words he was speaking, chills running down Vanifinwë’s spine as she listened to his words in absolute disbelief. 

Tears welled at his words, in her desperation trying to swallow them back at the news he had given her. They spilled over despite herself, and she brought a hand to wipe them away as she no longer could look at her brothers. Devastated for her eldest brother… There was no telling what he was suffering with. If he was still alive. But Vanifinwë didn’t know if she was prepared to hear otherwise. Though that begged to question what happened to Atyarussa…

“And Atyarussa? What happened to him? He is not with Morgoth too, is he?” She asked as she sucked in a sharp breath, unable to help herself. Yet no one said a word just yet, allowing Vanifinwë a chance to express herself before they moved onto the next wave of bad news. Tentatively, Makalaure moved to place his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she cried. 

This time Vanifinwë didn’t distance herself from her brother, taking it as the emotion swelled through her chest painfully. Vanifinwe sniffled and wiped her face over and over again, before Carnistir leaned over with a handkerchief for her to use. 

With care she took it from him and dabbed her face with a heavy deep breath. Nodding as they waited on a signal from her to continue. Though the rest left the sole job of breaking this horrid news to Makalaurë. To tell her what had become of Atyarussa, not that they were a great help in telling her about Maitimo. With a heavy sigh, Makalaurë moved to kneel next to his sister, hand reaching for her small one to hold.

To which she let him take, gripping him in return. There was a long pause, Makalaurë opened his mouth to start, but then second guessed it.

“Makalaurë… what happened to Atyarussa?” She pushed in a whisper as there was an audible gulp he made at her question. Before he spoke, sorrow visible in his eyes,

“Morgoth had not captured Atyarussa.” He began in a low and monotone voice. Makalaure kept it even and refused to meet her gaze as he looked at her hand. Not a soul moved or continued to clarify, leaving Vanifinwë to squirm some in her chair. Heart thudded hard in fear of the words he’d speak next.

“Vanie… Atyarussa was killed.” Vanifinwë inhaled a sharp breath as she brought her hand to her mouth. The sob that left her made them all wince at her response. 

A sharp pang of hurt seared through her, feeling into the very depths of her fëa that her brother had died. It was horrendous. If only she had convinced him and Minyarussa to have stayed with amillë… 

She felt Makalaurë move before he pulled her into him for an embrace. Her head resting against his shoulder while her body shook with heavy sobs. 

Time ticked by, with Vanifinwë clutched snugly to her second eldest brother as she cried. Mourning the losses of her brothers, though her senses and wits came back about her once more.

“How..?” She breathed out, needing to know how it was she lost her brother, as she pulled away from Makalaurë to look at him. Yet still his gaze would not meet hers, and he made no move to speak to her. At this with teary eyes she looked to her siblings, none of which would meet her gaze. Vanifinwë expected for Minyarussa to exhibit such behavior, it was his twin. 

“It is not something you need to know, sister.” Curufinwë spoke up, breaking his silence. His voice quiet as he moved from his place on the settee and to the decanter set just next to Tyelkormo- who had stopped pacing. Vanifinwë was just about to argue,

“Tell her Uncle.” Tyelperinquar spoke up with suddenness and pulled everyone’s attention to him. Bright blue eyes bored into Makalaurë with intensity. Though he was not looking at his nephew, he could feel the gaze on him. Still, he hesitated, and if it could, the anticipation alone would kill her.

“Did one of you do it?” Vanifinwë asked at their intense hesitation. It was the only thing that made sense. Everyone in the room seemed to tense up at her words. At this, she ripped her hand from Makalaurë’s. This prompted him to stand back up and move away from her, 

“I will not repeat myself. If you cannot give me an answer, I will ask Nolofinwë, as I’m sure you told him.” Vanifinwë was correct to have assumed that they had told him, yet it did nothing to ease the mounting tension. Nor bring her that much closer to an answer as the silence continued to blanket over the room for several minutes. Her patience wore thin.

“Atar did it.” Minyarussa answered her and ripped the entire world right out from under her. Vanifinwë looked to her brothers for confirmation, yet again their gazes transfixed elsewhere. Regret clearly plastered to their faces. 

“He did it!? How? Tell me now!” She asked as she stood from her seat with utter disbelief on her face, Vanifinwë’s voice growing louder and laced with fury with every word. 

“He set him on fire. It came during the burning of the ships at Losgar.” Minyarussa spoke up again with bitterness, and a bolt of anger shot through her at his words! All she could see was red,

“It was an accident.” Curufinwë corrected with quickness, yet Vanifinwë scoffed out with a sneer.

“Tell me, Curufinwë, how you accidentally set your own fucking child on fire!” She countered in fury. There was no excuse. The man she had once called her father, she could view him like that no more. He was simply her sire, and that was all he had been good for. Any memory that they shared, well it was in the past now. That Feanaro was a different ellon compared to the one who wrought chaos to almost all the Noldoli and family.

“He didn’t check the ships, Vani-“

“Do not call me by my Ataresse! I will not associate myself with someone so vile any longer!” She hissed out and interrupted Curufinwë, with her nose wrinkling as she sneered, making the freckles on her face wrinkle. 

“Vile!? You have some nerve to speak!” Curufinwë rebutted, slamming his glass onto the table with the decanter set. Making it rattle with delicate clanking, the glasses threatening to tip off the table and onto the hardwood floor.

“Atar!” Tyelperinquar added at Curufinwë, which warranted him being ignored.

“How do you not fucking make sure all of your sons are present!!!! How many years has he been a father of 8!? Yet you excuse it!?” Her voice grew louder in almost a holler, her hands moved with grandiose as if it would further get her point across. A fiery glare aimed at her brother, who had turned fully to face her, returning the nasty stare. 

“Perhaps you should’ve taken the oath and joined us since you could’ve done better sister. Yet you are a traitor to this family!” Curufinwë hissed back out in return. 

“A traitor!?” Failendis began, “I am a traitor?”

“Yes you are, you have no right to even be here. You are not family, not even Atar considered you to be so-“

“Enough Curufinwë!” Makalaurë piped up in swift defense of his sister, not about to tolerate his brother disowning her further just as Fëanaro had.

“You know who the fucking traitor is, Curufinwë? Fëanaro! Because of his oath, he slaughtered innocent elves! Killed our brother! The other captured and Eru knows what his fate is! He stranded his followers and left them to cross the Helcaraxë! Yet I am the epitome of betrayal!?” Failendis continued in a shrill voice at her brother. This prompted Tyelperinquar to move from his spot in the room to approach her. Highly aware that if he did nothing, it would only continue to escalate.

“Have you descended into madness as far down as he has!? Are you so much like him you too will do the same!?” She hollered out at him, Failendis’ voice had grown high in pitch and her throat feeling sore from how hard she was yelling. Conveying all of how she was feeling to him! 

“You glorify him! All of you! Even in the shit he’s done! I have seen your tapestries and have prayed to Eru to give you the benefit of the doubt! Yet you are just like him! In the worst way!” She yelled not just to Curufinwë but to rest of her brothers, 

“Learn to have some respect for the dead dear sister!” Curufinwë hissed out. A scoff of bitter amusement left her throat at his words!

“So he is dead? Oh, how fitting it is. Considering everything he’s done, may Mandos punish him harsh and justly for the ruin he’s brought!” 

“Watch your tongue!” Carnistir growled out and stood from his seat as well, Tyelperinquar placed his hands on her shoulders to soothe her. Failendis didn’t pull away from her nephew.

“I will not! I will speak my mind on this matter and you will say nothing! For you know nothing of betrayal or hardship if you think a simple no to an oath is traitorous!” She screeched out to him in response, 

“He didn’t even release you from your oath, did he? Even now you all are forever to do his bidding! While he avoids everything he has done!” Failendis continued in utter disbelief,

“It is the least we can do as his children! Unlike yourself!” Curufinwë continued with harshness, his voice sounded like their Atar’s. Leaving many in silence over the tone and pitch and sent chills down their spines as it sounded like they were listening to their father.

“At least I am not a selfish maniac who took everyone on a fruitless mission over some fucking rocks!” Failendis rebutted in haste to him. Truly, she had already loathed those gems when she lived in Valinor. She watched what it had done to him. Now she definitely despised them.

“It is not just for the Silmarils! It is to avenge our grandfather and now our father!” Carnistir added, as his face turned redder as he scowled severely. Going to his father’s rescue and Curufinwë’s aid in defending him, since Fëanaro was not there to defend himself.

“Do you really think I would’ve avoided the oath if that’s what it had been about? Fëanaro cared more about those stupid damn rocks than he did us! Look at the wreckage he has caused already! How many more will suffer because of his oath?” Failendis continued to press, while Makalaurë turned his attention to her this time. 

He knew the words she spoke of holding some weight, though it did nothing to soothe any of the anger in this room. It was only making things so much worse. 

“Va- Failendis… I know you are grievously upset. It is reasonable, you’ve been through much these last several years. For now… Let us separate and have time to let everything settle.” Makalaurë began, neither was going to budge on their views. That it would lead to more severe things being said, and that Curufinwë would certainly never forgive her if it kept up. 

When for now they should cherish not only their own relationships and having each other, but their sister as well. Failendis had survived the Helcaraxë, and she had come with Nolofinwë to see them. It was one fewer sibling to worry about being in harm’s way…

“That is an understatement Makalaurë, please do not undermine the struggles that Fëanaro forced upon us.” Curufinwë said nothing in rebuttal, he scoffed at her words.

“I am sure, and I apologize… For now, how about some rest? I’d imagine that was something that wasn’t afforded on the ice.” Failendis sighed at his words with a nod. After having sat down in such a soft chair, she couldn’t deny the exhaustion that now weighed heavily on her. Even if she now stood, sleep sounded good.

“Yes, some rest sounds ideal.” Failendis murmured, as she brought a hand to rub her forehead with another sigh, 

“Tyelperinquar take her back to the guest room-“

“You’re going to let her stay? Even after insulting Atar!?” Curufinwë pressed in disbelief! Makalaurë simply turned to give him a more severe look.

“We have lost enough as it is Curufinwë… Yes, I am going to let her stay. She is our sister regardless of what has transpired and what we have said here.” Makalaurë answered, before turning his attention back to Failendis giving her a faint smile. 

“We will speak later.” He said to Failendis with tenderness and a nod. Failendis took her leave with Tyelperinquar pulling her gently along. 

* * * 

tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @icarus-fell-in-spring @allinwonderlands​ @red-riding​ @eluriel-undomiel​

Quenyan names of the Finweans

Maitimo - Maedhros

Makalaure - Maglor

Tyelkormo - Celegorm

Carnistir - Caranthir 

Curufinwe - Curufin

Atyarussa - Amrod

Minyarussa - Amras

Vanifinwe, Failendis - Faeleth

Nolofinwe - Fingolfin

[ichihime]

ANONYMOUS ASKED: I was following along a thread on twitter and an anti said when Ichigo laid dead on the ground with a hole in his chest in the Lust arc, that he didn’t say “I can hear her..stand up..I will protect her” before hollowfying. They claim he instead said “I can hear..stand up..I have to protect” using no pronounce directed at Orihime, hence NOT coming back from the dead because he wants to protect her specifically but because of his instincts to protect and he would’ve done it for any of his friends. They also said that Orihime didn’t scream “help me” but instead said “help” which triggered Ichigo’s instincts to protect, making him rise from the dead, hence once again making it clear this was never about Orihime specifically but about Ichigo’s instincts responding when hearing a voice in need (and this voice could’ve been from anyone amongst his friends) and how the hollow would not allow him to die regardless. Basically the English translations are incorrect and the raw version in kanji never used pronounces during these scenes. Is this correct and how would you respond to this?

There are a couple really important factors to address in this translation and why its English counterpart would supplement with pronouns specifically referring to Orihime; first, that Ichigo’s speech is meant to be broken and fairly incoherent because it’s conveying the idea that he as a human is focused on this sole objective as he’s dying. Second, that in Japanese, there isn’t necessarily a requirement for subject pronouns to form a sentence talking about a subject (the subject in question being Orihime) —this is a particular grammar rule that has no translatable equivalent in the English language, because they’re ultimately different structures entirely. I drop this phrase a LOT on here, but again, cultural context is important. Since you also sent this ask to my friend @ichinoue​​, there’s been some really excellent fan feedback about the structure of Japanese language and how it differs from English —this post in particular.

Now — onto the actual question:

I think there’s definitely a possibility that Ichigo would have done this for his other friends, but only if this moment had also been preceded by Ichigo vowing to “definitely protect” or “protect without fail” those other friends. Kubo did write a scene like this, and made a pretty big deal about it, but that scene involves one specific character —not all of his friends.

This hollow transformation was written as a climax in Ichigo’s narrative arc for the Hueco Mundo saga —as the ongoing theme during this arc was about his struggle with his identity against his inner hollow as an ever-present threat. This could not be a more clear theme throughout this specific arc. There’s a lot of specific focus placed upon this struggle, his cooperation and subsequent training with the Visoreds, his lack of control despite his best efforts, and his juxtaposition of this struggle for control in his actual fights against the Arrancar and Espada. This is important to note, because in response to this, there is only one scene with one character that both:

Involves him promising to “definitely protect” or “protect without fail” a friend he cares deeply for (using the same character for “protect” that’s his namesake, no less —I’ll get into this tidbit more further down).

Functions as a foreshadowing tool, and is later double-downed upon as a foreshadowing tool by the same character as mentioned above.

When it comes down to it, the grammatical inconsistencies that come from translating between languages don’t have any particular bearing on this specific scene, because the intent was already made clear as early as Chapter 196. That’s how foreshadowing works —even if we as the reader don’t realize it’s happening until after the fact. What’s more, this is how Japanese functions as a language; it’s constructed around making sense of the context, which is why it doesn’t necessarily need subject pronouns to function or convey meaning. (Though I can understand why this goes over most Anti-IHs heads... their arguments depend almost entirely on pulling things out of context, which obviously doesn’t work.)

That said —

This scene says a lot. And even though Ichigo is speaking directly to Orihime so we understand she is the subject of what he’s saying, there’s a lot of additional meaning we can derive from this scene by reading (you guessed it) the context. 

Ichigo is characterized early on by somewhat brash, irritable (though this is conditional), impolite, “punk”-like mannerisms. His speech tends to be informal (cultural context) as does his body language. However, we also know that he doesn’t say things lightly when it comes to promises and protecting others. These words carry weight, but there’s an additional sense of conviction conveyed through his respectful and formal gesture of bowing, his unwavering eye contact, and we as the readers can understand this without needing an explanation.

This is especially interesting because if IRs want to get smart about raws, then they should also already understand the additional importance placed on this scene when it comes to Ichigo’s word choice. Ichigo uses the character “護” (mamoru / ”to protect”) to convey his intentions. There are a lot of different ways to write “protect” in Japanese, many of which Ichigo uses when he makes these promises or talks about protecting others throughout the series. What makes his choice of “護” especially significant and piles on more and more contextual importance is that this is the same character for “protect” that is his namesake and the basis for his core character motivations. This is also only time throughout the entire series Ichigo specifically uses “護” to refer to protecting someone. 

If the intention of this to act as a foreshadowing tool wasn’t clear enough, it is again referenced by Orihime later —just at the beginning of the fight between Ichigo and Grimmjow. 

Already, we have a precedent set by Orihime’s direct involvement. This is the second scene in a pattern of foreshadowing the events of the Lust Arc. 

The intent is clear; this is a theme in Ichigo’s narrative arc that involves Orihime, because it also involves the development of their relationship. Her fear of hollows, her fear of Ichigo losing himself to his hollow side, Ichigo’s struggle to expose himself to this power he relies on to win in battle while also trying not to lose himself. There’s an underlying theme of Ichigo and Orihime struggling to communicate with each other, desperately wishing to protect each other and going to whatever ends to do it, but ultimately thinking its a burden they must shoulder alone. They are both concurrently struggling with feelings of uselessness (Ichigo isn’t strong enough, Orihime can’t do anything) throughout this arc, acting as foils even if their individual journeys take different shapes. Even so, these conflicts are juxtaposed by the theme of “The Heart” (the bonds between people) that also keep appearing. They’re both frightened, they’re both feeling weak, feeling desperate, and yet still — they can understand one another.

So we have this pattern now:

Ichigo vows “Next time... I will protect you... without fail!” to Orihime with a sense of personal importance conveyed through the use of his name that is unmatched throughout the rest of the series.

Later, Orihime notes very plainly that “Whenever he uses strong words, it’s like he’s making a promise. I believe that he makes a promise to himself. I think that he expresses his words in feelings so that he will follow through.” The important takeaway being of course the forthright meaning, but also “When Ichigo says he’s going to [do something], he will [do that something] for sure.”

We all know what happens next —the character conflicts, the miscommunications, the belief that these are fights that need to be handled alone, the struggle against the powers of a hollow, the fear of exposure to that power... all culminate into The Lust Arc.

— CONTENT WARNING for canon-typical gore, blood, impalement, and body horror.

With the above established foreshadowing, we can see how it leads to this; When Ichigo says that “he will protect you without fail”, he will protect you for sure.

“To be clear, a total transformation to a hollow, is neither evil or good; it’s more like pure power .. so I made a voice of pure-hearted power that is unrelated, beyond the concept of good and evil so I screamed from a clear pure heart yet, at the same time there is some sadness and thought of Orihime in my head.”

— Masakazu Morita (Ichigo Kurosaki’s Japanese VA), on how he voiced Hollowfied!Ichigo during the Lust Arc.

 “The perfectly hollowfied Ichigo ruminated over Orihime’s screams and was bound only by that objective.”

— Bleach UNMASKED

If what I outlined above wasn’t clear enough, Ichigo goes as far as to stab Ishida, his friend. It couldn’t be about anyone else. This specific theme has always very clearly been about Ichigo, Orihime, their relationship to each other, and their relationship to hollowfication as a concept.  

I want to also be very clear here as well; with the established theme of Ichigo always fighting against his hollowfication, and Ichigo’s Hollow being motivated solely by self interest — it isn’t Ichigo’s Hollow responding to Orihime’s plea, it’s Ichigo’s humanity. Ichigo’s Hollow finally getting an opening to take over his host (to become The King and Ichigo, The Horse) is what revives Ichigo. But his vow to Orihime and his desire to fulfill that promise is what allowed him to cling to his humanity. The Hollow is motivated by survival instinct, not any desire to protect —that’s all Ichigo, just as it’s always been.

I think anyone who is still willfully misinterpreting this and holding Japanese language structure to English rules and conventions is seriously pathetic. Even in English, the pronouns have zero bearing on what’s being conveyed here. They can try and disprove IchiHime as much as they want as far as I’m concerned. The fact remains that at the end of the day, giving the Ichigo/Orihime relationship as much attention and dissection as they do goes to show that (a) they still perceive it as a threat and (b) there’s such a large volume of Ichigo/Orihime content to comb through to begin with —a fact they’ve vehemently denied for years.

Also like, IchiHime is canon. They’re happily married. They have a family together. Just tell them to take the fucking L. I get secondhand embarrassment from watching them rehash the same old bullshit time and again.

[v-hope]

Absolute

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!AU, Fuck-buddies to Lovers, Fuckboy!Jeongguk, Tutor!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Request by @asiivnc: “Hi, can I request a one shot? Can you do it based on Ariana Grande’s song Boyfriend for Jungkook?”

Summary: After arguing over the status of your relationship and having a bit of a fall out, Jeongguk and you find out you don’t quite like the idea of each other being with someone else. Nevertheless, with the two of you not being precisely a couple, things might get a little too complicated.

A/N: I don’t know if my interpretation of the song is what you had in mind, but hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope the rest of you guys like it, too 💞

Jeongguk was fuming.

The second he had entered the coffee shop and his eyes landed on one of the tables by the windows, finding you comfortably talking to the smarter guy of your promotion, he felt like going up there, grab you by your wrist, and drag you out of there with him.

But he could not.

And his desires were not only prevented by the fact of him knowing you would not ever look his way again if he did such thing to you, but also by his mind suddenly remembering he had not gone over there alone — the sweet voice next to him asking if he was alright, managing to draw his glaring eyes from you to the girl he had arrived with.

However, that was as much attention as said girl got from him that evening, for no matter how hard Jeongguk tried, his eyes kept fixing on you every two seconds, since he had strategically chosen a seat facing your table — torturing himself with the way you would smile ever so brightly time after time to your classmate, just like it made his heart skip a beat every single time it was directed to him.

And although his heart felt uneasy and his knuckles turned white with every smile of yours, he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking; not when the guy you were with could make a move at any given time.

It was almost two minutes later, when who felt like his new rival did indeed lean over the table to take a better look at what you were pointing to on your notebook, that Jeongguk had enough. So, not really giving it a second thought, he excused himself from the girl in front and made his way over to you.

Your eyes focused on him before he could even clear his throat to catch your attention, and he hated the way your smile had disappeared in a heartbeat. It was fair to say, neither you nor your companion were very happy to see him standing there.

“Yes?” the cold tone of your voice was enough for him to feel like turning around and never look back.

Instead of acting on his instincts, he stared at the table for a second before he awkwardly pointed towards it. “Can I borrow a napkin?”

Your eyebrows raised in such manner he couldn’t tell if you were amused or annoyed; maybe a mixture of them both. “I think you’re supposed to ask the staff for that kind of stuff, but sure”.

Without another word, he nodded his head before he took one in his hands. However, before he could leave your side completely defeated, he stared down to the person he thought you were on a date with, and before he could even think about it, his mouth was opening, much to your annoyance, once again to say something else.

“Hi, I’m Jeongguk” he introduced himself to the guy sitting in front of you, who tried his best not to feel bummed by Guk’s presence.

“Jaehyuk” he greeted with a small bow, which ended up looking more like a nod that was immediately reciprocated by Jeongguk just the same.

Not like they didn’t already know each other and their intentions with you, but seeming intimidating right then was apparently a very necessary thing to do.

“So you need help with your classes as well?” he pushed it regardless of the glare you were giving him. He knew for a fact Jaehyuk did not need your help at all, and he was not having it. “She’s been tutoring me for a while now, too”.

“Not really tutoring me…” Jae decided to answer him — his eyes travelling from Guk to you, and giving you a small smile that made Jeongguk’s stomach turn. “It’s more like, we’re teaching each other”.

You were not the two top students for nothing anyway; and to say that bothered Jeongguk was an understatement, because knowing there was someone just as smart as you, someone who overall was a way better choice for you, wanting to win your heart as well, made him feel a subtle pain in his chest he could not explain.

Nevertheless, he was not about to portray that for you to notice. No. Instead, what he did was curve up the corners of his lips in a smile, and a pretty cocky one at that.

“Oh, yeah” he was full on smirking by now, resting his palms near the edge of the round table and leaning over to your side. “I’ve taught her one or two things as well, but we haven’t really needed books for that. Right, baby girl?”

You felt your heart jump at his words, immediately feeling the heat go up to your face as a nerve-racking silence took over the table, yet being fast enough to cover it up with a cold glare directed his way.

“Well, now that you’ve so unnecessarily established that” his smile only grew bigger at how beautifully mad you looked right then, “I think you should go back to your date, I’m sure she’d love for the Jeon Jeongguk to show her what you’ve done to half of campus by now”.

That alone was enough for his smile to be erased, and not exactly because he had been reminded of the girl he had so inconsiderately abandoned a few minutes ago or because of your harsh words by the end of your statement, but because you knew. You knew he had gone there with someone else although he could’ve sworn you hadn’t seen them sitting a few meters away from you. And, for some reason, seeing your eyes slightly soften, looking almost hurt as such words left your mouth, hurt him just as much as seeing you with someone else.

It was stupid, he thought while he walked back to his seat; you had fought almost a week ago precisely because you couldn’t come to terms about your relationship and its dynamics, and yet here you were a couple of days later, hurting at the sight of each other with different people.

You were more than acquaintances, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves friends. You were more than fuck-buddies, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves a couple. You did not sleep with other people but each other, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves exclusive.

You had crystal clear feelings for one another, yet you wouldn’t admit them.

It was stupid. Absolutely stupid.

And he was not the only one to believe so, for you were left not being able to focus on your studies anymore; instead drowning in your thoughts and the faint pressure you’d feel in your chest whenever you either thought about Jeongguk with someone who was not you, or your eyes were drawn towards the table he and the girl he had arrived with where sitting at.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so submerged in your own self-pity, you would’ve noticed he was not really paying attention to his date, but to his phone under the table — only noticing when your mobile buzzed with an incoming text, causing your heart to skip a beat at the sight of his name on your screen.

Guk-ah [20:07]: I’m taking you home

Giving Jaehyuk a quick glance and internally thanking the fact that he was too focused reading one of the papers to even notice you were doing something else, you rushed to unlock it so you could type an answer.

You [20:08]: Shouldn’t you be taking your girl home?

You knew you were sounding petty as hell, but, in all honesty, you couldn’t care any less by then.

After hitting send, your eyes moved up to see if he had received it, catching the exact moment he was already determinedly typing on his phone.

Guk-ah [20:08]: That’s what I’m doing Guk-ah [20:08]: Now come here, we need to talk

Simple as that, that’s how you ended up a little under ten minutes later inside Jeongguk’s car, not even feeling like complaining when you realised he had taken the long way home, the one he knew by heart now — instead absently staring out the window as the atmosphere was filled with nothing but silence.

“I can’t believe you left her all alone in there” you spoke after what felt like forever, not really feeling like making small talk yet not being able to take another single second of the overwhelming silence.

“She said it was okay” he replied plainly, not taking his eyes away from the road.

“It was not” you denied, sitting up straight so you could take a better look at him and his tensed factions. “She’s probably going to badmouth you with her friends later”.

“Then so be it�� he snapped, fixing his piercing stare on you for a second before he focused it back on the rather dark streets. “I couldn’t stand another second of you with that guy on your stupid date”.

“We were studying, it was not a date”.

“Oh, so the guy who’s at the top of our class and who, may I add, has been after you for months now, suddenly needs help with his subjects?” a loud scoff abandoned his mouth, letting you know perfectly enough just how much he was not having it. “And then he takes you to a coffee shop to ‘study’ and you’re trying to tell me it was not a date?”

“Exactly”.

He scoffed once again, shaking his head in both disbelief and indignation at either how oblivious you were or just how you were so blatantly lying to his face.

Poking his tongue against his cheek without bothering to place his eyes on you, he carried on: “Did he pay for your coffee?”

Your eyes went once again to the window. “Yes…”

“A date” he stated simply, doing a pretty good job at hiding how much that fact was actually bothering him.

“Well, you’re one to speak” you were the one to scoff this time, shifting in your seat. “You’re the one who was on an actual date with someone else!”

Jeongguk sighed, turning left to the road that would lead to your place. “I’m telling you, it was not a date”.

“Did you pay for her coffee?” you bit back with his own previous words.

Hating the way his own logic had turned out to be against him, he annoyedly answered: “Yes”.

“A date then” you said rather bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like it matters though, since you’re not my boyfriend—”

Ouch.

“—and you can do whatever you want”.

“Can I now?” Jeongguk questioned, raising one of his eyebrows as he gave you a quick glance. “I’m guessing so can you then?” he pushed it, receiving nothing but silence from you. “Why don’t you just call what you had with Jaehyuk a date then if you can do whatever you want?”

For the same reason he wouldn’t call what he had as well a date either: because it felt wrong. Although you were technically not dating, there was this kind of both unspoken and unintended agreement not to be with other people. That’s why it had hurt the two of you so much to see one another with someone else. It almost felt like getting caught cheating whilst finding out you were being cheated on all together, for both of you.

With your mouth remaining shut for the rest of the ride, Jeongguk decided not to say anything else either, not even after he had parked the car in front of your building and the two of you got out of it; not even as you made your way inside and spent the single most tense thirty seconds on an elevator. In fact, he only ever opened his mouth with the intention of speaking up once he had followed you to your living room — even then not knowing what to say.

So, you did for him.

“You said we needed to talk” you pointed out what he had ever so determinedly told you over text, “so talk”.

Silence took over for another couple of seconds — Jeongguk having a hard time to find the right words to express what he truly wanted to.

Finally, letting out a shaky breath, he went for it: “I don’t want you to go out with other guys”.

You whined out of exasperation, throwing your head back out of instinct at how obstinate he was being.

“For the millionth time, we were just studying!”

“Well, we were just studying five months ago and you see what happened”.

It was your turn to go quiet; hesitating as to what to say next, given how taken aback his statement had left you right then.

“So what, you’re scared I’ll start fucking him just because the situation is slightly similar to ours?” the tone of your voice sounded almost mocking — your disbelief only growing stronger when he remained silent, breaking the eye contact as he looked to his feet instead, earning a scoff from you. “Seriously, Jeongguk?”

“You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility…”

Because, although it was not the same, to his eyes it was. And it was not like you hadn’t tutored more people during the amount of time the two of you had been together, but it was the first time he felt threatened by someone else. For you to have these little study sessions with someone smarter than him, who also happened to be attractive, felt like a timebomb awaiting to explode. He could already see it, how Jaehyuk would at some point want to move your studying somewhere more private, just like he had done months ago, and how then things would inevitably escalate from there… just like they had escalated with the two of you.

Only he could actually see you falling for said guy, as opposed to what he thought you would never feel for him.

That was the exact moment he let his walls down, along with the exact moment you realised just how hurt by the whole situation he actually was. And although a part of you wanted nothing but to go up to him and hug him tightly, the other part of you, the one that was still hurting because of him, was the one to carry on with the argument.

“You do realise how messed up it is for you not to want me to go out with other people when you yourself are doing just that?”

“She’s just a friend”.

You laughed under your breath at his statement, yet your face alone let him know you were not amused at all. “Friend, sure”.

“If I say she’s just a friend then she’s just a friend!” he snapped, exasperatedly motioning around with his hands to make his point.

“Okay” you nodded, slowly taking one step closer to him. “But what is your definition of ‘friend’, though?” your lips puckered up questioningly as your eyes looked up as well, “because, for all I know, she could be the same kind of ‘friend’ I am to you”.

“Okay, no” his eyebrows furrowed dramatically, “don’t even think about comparing the two of you, because we’re not just friends and you fucking know it”.

Hell, he didn’t know if you were friends to begin with. It had always been different with you. Always had felt like something more he could not quite put his finger on.

“Then what the fuck are we?!” you were the one to snap this time, throwing your hands as you took a step back. “I’m pretty sure fuck-buddies are supposed to have no strings attached, yet here we are freaking out over each other going out with other people”.

“So you did go out with him!”

“No! I—” you sighed, not understanding when had everything started to go downhill. “Look at us, Jeongguk” your voice turned weaker, just like your eyes became softer, “we weren’t supposed to start fighting over these things. This isn’t what I wanted when we started doing this”.

“I didn’t want this either but it happened” he pointed out the obvious, much to your frustration, “and now we have no choice but to deal with this”.

You shook your head no, taking one more step away from him. “We would never work out” you confessed your thoughts, glancing over the entrance of your own apartment yet what seemed to be the only escape right then. “Things weren’t supposed to get this complicated, I don’t want this”.

“No, don’t you dare walk out on me” Jeongguk called you out as soon as he saw you start walking to the door, catching up on your intentions faster than you had given him credit for.

Holding your wrist tightly, he turned you around so that you were back again at facing him, only this time he cornered you on the nearest wall — his intimidating figure hovering over yours.

“You’d really rather ignore your feelings than to give us a chance?”

“We would never work out” you repeated what you had already expressed before, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together in both frustration and disappointment... if not hurt.

“Why not?”

“Because you…” you took in a shaky breath, struggling to find the right words, “you don’t date…”

His lower lip stuck slightly out in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“You know what it means...”

One look into your eyes was all he needed to understand what you were talking about, and it would’ve been a lie to say it didn’t pain him. Especially since he couldn’t change the things he had been doing up until a few months ago, and he had no idea as to how make you believe he would be willing to change his previous ways for you.

“Is that how low you think of me?” he wondered, taking a step back yet not moving far enough from you to let you move somewhere else.

You shrugged, not daring to meet his eyes as you spoke. “I’m just saying… the guy who fucks around campus and doesn’t do commitment and the straight A’s girl who’s never fallen in love before… it’s like a bad cliché that’s bound to end up with my heart being broken”.

“What about me? Don’t I have a lot to lose, too?” he tilted his head questioningly. “I have never been in love either and, for all I know, you could always fall for some Mr. Right and leave me”.

You could, he was right. However, either fortunately or unfortunately, it was him the one you had caught strong feelings for, and somewhere within the deepest inside of you, you knew falling harder and harder was all you would do from then on.

So, you decided to let him know.

“The thing is, I don’t want some stupid Mr. Right” you confessed, placing your hands on his chest out of habit, “I want you”.

“And I want you” he replied in what felt like a heartbeat, resting his forehead on yours and gently holding your waist — his thumbs drawing small circles on your sides as his lips already were searching for yours, “no one else”.

The way he had every so lovingly whispered those words over your mouth sent shivers down your spine, forgetting your point for a moment there as his sweet lips caught your lower one in between them.

“Jeongguk, wait....” you managed to mumble in between tender kisses, having your voice come out muffled by the soft touch of his lips, “this doesn’t change the fact that I don’t—”

Your words were temporarily hushed by another kiss.

“—entirely trust us together”.

His breathing trembled as he inhaled, fully withdrawing his mouth from yours before his forehead once again rested against your own. He understood. In all honesty, a part of him still didn’t know if he could entirely trust himself either. But he wanted you, in a way he had not ever wanted anyone else, and that was enough for him to know he wanted to fight for you and what the two of you could have if you just acted on your feelings instead of keep ignoring them any longer.

“Let’s just… be exclusive for now then”.

Your eyes opened at that, finding his chocolate ones already staring back at you. “I don’t know about you” a small smile curved up your lips, “but I haven’t slept with anyone else for a while now”.

Jeongguk couldn’t help but smile brightly at your confession, feeling his heart flutter and an indescriptible feel of joy taking over his body.

“Neither have I” he admitted, causing you to tauntingly raise one of your eyebrows. Rolling his eyes, he cupped your face in his hands. “I haven’t. Can you trust me in this one?”

Staring into his genuine eyes, you could do no other but believe him; nodding your head lightly after a few seconds.

“This solves nothing then” your bummed statement got a frown out of him, at which you explained: “We were already kind of exclusive and we still ended up the way we did…”

“But it’s official now” he pointed out, absently tracing your lower lip with his thumbs. “And I don’t mean it just when it comes to sex, I, let’s… not be with anyone else at all. No dates, no kissing…”

“No studying sessions?” you teased before you could stop yourself.

Too soon.

“Y/N” he sighed, “I’m serious” his lower lip stuck out.

“I know, I’m sorry” you pouted as well, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling your muscles relax when his familiar hands were instinctively placed by your sides, like they had been moments ago. “It’s just… such level of exclusiveness can lead to one of us to confuse it for an actual relationship at some point...”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened...” he sheepishly admitted, making your heart jump when he added with the same shy tone: “Hopefully it won’t be just one of us”.

“And then what?” you questioned, gently playing with the dark strands of hair falling over his neck.

“Then we date” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world; and, to some extent, you knew it was. “As in, boyfriend and girlfriend, in health and sickness or however it goes, kind of serious”.

A bright smile took over your face as you chuckled at his way with words, having him mirror it in a second.

“Just to make sure then” you raised one of your eyebrows, “we won’t be doing anything coupley for now, right? It’s just a promise not to be with anyone else?”

“Oh, no” he denied immediately, “I’ll definitely be all over you and spoil you as much as I can”.

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that had just escaped your mouth, biting down on your lower lip to try and stop smiling so that you could properly speak again.

“We might as well start dating now then” you snorted with the intention of taunting him, yet only causing his heart to skip a beat instead, “since what you’re proposing is pretty much the same”.

“I mean” he dragged on the last letter; his nose faintly brushing over yours, “if you want to…”

You shook your head in amusement, not being able to erase your smile and stop another giggle from escaping your lips.

“Let’s just…” you begun as you tightened your hold around his neck, earning a chuckle from him at the feel of your chest pressing against his — loving to have you closer than he had expected to, “take things slow from here... you know, test the waters...”

He smiled sweetly, nodding his head and letting out an almost inaudible ‘okay’ before he closed the space between your mouths.

As one of his hands moved up to cup your cheek and allow him to intensify the kiss by pressing his lips deeper against yours, his other one was soon to follow just as your fingers begun to entangle themselves in his messy hair. It was that small act from yours he had always been driven crazy for, along with your mouth opening faintly to allow his tongue the entrance it had been asking for, what caused his free hand to stop from travelling up to your cheek and instead move down to the hem of your sweater, wasting no time in digging inside the fabric so he could tenderly caress your skin; almost immediately feeling your goosebumps under his fingertips.

“Does this mean no sex for a while now?” he panted, planting a chaste kiss to your mouth, “because this one week without having you has been killing me”.

You bit down on your lower lip and shook your head in amused disbelief, jokingly shoving him away from you, only for his hands to catch yours and pull you closer to him once again — warmingly wrapping you inside his arms.

“Ugh, you only want me for my body” you over dramatically breathed out, causing a light laugh to escape his throat, and then a moan to be muffled against your lips when you determinedly pulled him towards you to resume your needy make out session.

You knew now more than ever that it was not like that at all, because the line between fuck-buddies and an actual couple had been one hell of a thin one for the two of you for a while now, and even though there were quite a few things both of you needed to work out first in order to put a label to your relationship, there was one thing you were sure about: you didn’t need to name what you had for it to be genuine.

[comfy-whumpee]

Rozen 7: Recovery

CN: the second part of this is set in a hospital. One more tag for @sola-whumpings-primary-blog, thank you for being my tag list for this arc.

He’s a little bundle of thin limbs in the corner of the sofa, slim hands bunching the blanket around his chest. His eyes fix tightly onto his saviour, barely blinking, as though the brief closure of his eyes would make this disappear. Among the deep red wool around him, his skin is pale, his burns highlighted, and his hair a sunset complement to the colours.

Alistair is so glad that he waited to find someone this pretty.

“Again, sweetness.”

“I am Master’s pet and I need to be kept.”

The words flow. Ellis’s voice is a tap, turned on and off at Alistair’s will, and what comes out is also under his control. Ellis’s own thoughts are not part of the equation, today.

“Once more.”

“I am Master’s pet and I need to be kept.”

“Good boy. What did that awful detective say to you?”

Brown eyes go from distant. “I don’t...remember,” Ellis says softly.

He does. He will. There’s only so much that terror can do to push away unwanted thoughts. But he hasn’t slept since he was taken, under Alistair’s command, and he barely ate, and spent so much time listening to the voice in his head, on the last of his three days away, that most of the work is already done.

What memories do remain – you haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t have to do what he says, you deserve to be free – will fade in time.

“When those nasty words trouble you again, just think about your rules,” Alistair says. When Ellis nods, he smiles, and finally sits down beside him on the sofa. The speed at which Ellis curls against him is gratifying, and Alistair wraps an arm around him, letting him hide his face. “Now, do you have any more questions?”

Ellis swallows, and then nods, cheek grazing along Alistair’s collarbone through his shirt.

He’s so sweet. Alistair runs fingers into his hair. “Go ahead, precious thing.”

He hesitates, but he often does that. He prepares his words, so that there is no stutter. Alistair can’t stand stuttering. “Master, were they – a good person?”

A difficult question. Alistair smiles, still stroking through Ellis’s hair, feeling how the attention keeps him relaxed, even as he navigates the bewildering experience of being rescued from a place he wants to be. “They thought they were doing a good thing,” he acknowledges, “because they didn’t know what you are. I’ve told you before, haven’t I? Other people won’t understand. They may even say I am bad, for helping you.”

Ellis shrinks against his captor, shaking his head a little.

“Shh, it’s alright. I know. We both know it’s not true, that I am only helping you as best I can.”

Cheek skims upwards to press against Alistair’s neck, Ellis nodding again, and Alistair smiles.

“But as I promised, I won’t tell them. I won’t tell anyone what you are. As long as you are safe, here with me.”

The faint vibration of a whimper crosses from Ellis’s chest to Alistair’s, and he smiles. Ellis makes no sound even in moments like these, when Alistair lays out the story of his self-hatred so plainly.

“We’re just lucky no one was hurt while they had you locked away from me,” he sighs. He wishes he’d had the chance to go out, but it was critical to get Ellis back before his family arrived. “Someone could have been really hurt.”

Another silent whimper, and Ellis nods again, clinging tighter to the only security he has left.

Alistair smiles. There’s always a silver lining.

-

The important thing is that the clients don’t know their ribs are broken. Video calls are good for that. A nice neutral background, enough pillows that they don’t hurt, and they’ll never know Rozen is in hospital right now.

“As we discussed, I held him in a secondary location as a precaution against retaliation,” they explain carefully, keeping their breaths deep and even. “That precaution proved justified. We had three incidents of Engels coming to reclaim him. The last one, I’m sorry to say, was successful. He brought armed men with him. Ellis was not harmed in the process.”

On one side of the screen is Nic, who looks very concerned, clearly picking up on what they’ve left unsaid. Ellis’s parents are on the other side, in their living room together, fixated on the news of their son.

“I want to reassure you that, aside from the burns we are aware of already, Ellis is not injured. From my understanding, he is kept comfortable. However, I can also confirm now without a doubt that Nic’s understanding of his situation is correct.”

Rozen isn’t blind to the rift between Ellis’s two support groups. It’s...a headache. They hope to lay it to rest.

“Engels treats him like a pet. A human pet. His violence is psychological, and Ellis displays clear Stockholm syndrome. I have some other suspicions, but I will discuss those with you later in person. I found no evidence of Nic’s involvement in the abduction.”

Nic’s face folds in relief. Ellis’s parents seem not to notice. “What do we do now?” Siobhan asks.

In the corner of their eye, they see a pale blue figure enter the doorway. The nurse is coming back up the ward. Rozen has to make this quick.

“I will be looking into the armed men he brought with him. I believe his mob connections are stronger than they initially appeared. Once I can establish his resources, I can find a way to stay out of his reach. The next time I rescue him, we will make it stick.”

“Thank you,” Nic and Joe say simultaneously.

“Excuse me?” the nurse calls. “Is that a phone?”

Rozen drags up their mouth into a smile. “I’ll speak with you soon.”

They hang up, drop their phone into their lap, and lift up the e-reader they have instead, wincing as the movement shifts their ribs. The nurse comes closer, squints suspiciously, and then sighs and moves along.

Rozen settles down with the local crime data for this area, and begins highlighting sections that reference the mob. Dates, locations, and names. Bennett, Vera, Kerry, Crossland. They know how to do this. They will do this.

They’re getting Ellis back. Come hell or high water.

[ladyaudentium]

Confectionary Affection

Title: Confectionary Affection Fandom: Final Fantasy Crisis Core Rating: T Pairing: AngealxOC Characters: Angeal Hewley, Zack Fair, Genesis Rhapsodos, Original Characters Links: A03, FF.net

This took me longer than I would have liked, but I'm back with the next chapter! This one is jam packed with Angeal and Zack content! Be sure to grab a cold drink and a snack to enjoy!

Thank you to all who reviewed, favorited, and followed after the first chapter so far! If I missed responding to anyone's review, I'm sorry! I'll be going back over the reviews for the previous chapter, and if I missed you, I'll send you a response!

Enjoy!

It was nearly impossible to forget that Angeal and Zack had stopped by her bakery.

Kalika and Anri worked themselves to the bone and were only just barely able to keep up to the new level of demand. Sometimes it was so busy during the morning that there was simply not enough stock left to open in the evening; not even if Kalika remade everything again.

At first the business had been making a considerable income, and even now, it was till turning a higher profit than the past, but the costs of running the establishment had also increased. Sometimes there was simply not enough ingredients or prepared pastries left to open again in the evening. Usually this ended up with the business losing money.

Not only that but the increased workload had Kalika and Anri burning out more quickly than they could regain their strength. Kalika's usual late nights and early mornings preparing dough and bakery items were quickly turning into working around the clock. It wasn't unusual for her to doze off kneading a bread dough only to wake with it on the floor or ruined from over working it.

Anri was the same, for the first time since she was a new employee, she was making mistakes with drink and food orders. As a result, the customers were becoming upset and more than once a scene with raised voices had caused Kalika to intervene and forcibly remove the troublemakers.

It was getting to the point where an extra set of hands was a necessary addition; preferably a set with some muscle behind them. Kalika sighed heavily as she once again wiped the chalk board clean. Her handwriting was never great to begin with, but her hands were still sore and shaky from the kneading she had just finished.

The sun was beginning to set, and the bakery had been closed all day. Kalika had spent all night and day preparing every bit of dough, batter, and meringue for the no doubt absolutely insane day tomorrow. If her usual delivery of supplies was on time, she would be able to open again the day after, but if not… well she would come up with something. She always did.

Slapping her cheek, she forced herself to stay awake for just a little while longer, she just needed to finish this task and then she was finished—

*KNOCK KNOCK* "Kalika?" a voice called from outside.

The young woman jumped at the sudden noise which caused a series of events to follow:

First, her precariously placed step ladder slipped off the edge of the counter, causing her to scream in fear and drop all her supplies creating a racket.

Second, the door burst open just as she desperately tried to remain balanced, her hands reaching out for anything that would keep her from the inevitable.

Third, she fell.

The young woman braced for the cold, hard impact of the floor, but instead was met with a warm embrace. Black hair and blue eyes entered her vision and it was with a sudden sinking pit in her stomach that she knew who it was.

Angeal Hewley.

"You should be more careful." He intoned lowly, his chest vibrating with his voice, "We need to stop meeting like this."

Kalika stared up into his bright blue eyes as her head rested on his chest. "I don't know, I think it's kind of nice?" the words escaped her mouth before she could think twice and immediately could feel her face begin to heat up in a deep, mortified blush.

Angeal blinked once in disbelief as his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

"Better be careful, Angeal or pretty soon she's going to be falling for you!" Zack called excitedly, breaking the silence.

The black-haired man, sighed deeply and screwed his eyes shut, clearly stressed, "Zack. What have I said to you about appropriate behavior and comments?" he prompted as the burly SOLDIER made a move to stand, his steady grip assisting Kalika to stand along with him.

There was a heavy sigh from the opposite side of the corner while the younger boy replied monotonously, "You said that I need to think before speaking and that words have impact. I can't take back anything once it's been said, sometimes the best choice is to remain silent." the energetic boy leaned back over a bar stool and with both hands over his face, "I can't help it though, you two make it so easy!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands to the ceiling.

"You need to learn self-restraint if you intend to be an honorable member of SOLDIER in the future." Angeal scolded and judging from the young boy's reaction, this seemed to be a common occurrence between the two of them. Somehow, that did not come as a surprise to the young woman.

"I know, I'm doing my best, Angeal! Sometimes it just bursts out before I can stop it!" Zack turned to Kalika, "By the way, we're here to return this! The scones were delicious, thanks!" he held out the same container that Anri had given them upon their departure from their last visit.

The blue haired girl blinked once in surprise as she accepted the box; a reusable one that was not their typical to-go boxes. That sly girl, she had planned for this too. "Thanks, I'm glad you liked them." she looked up at Angeal, "I'm sorry for the trouble of making you come back here to return it. It would have been fine if you just disposed of the container instead." she also took the opportunity to notice that it had been washed as well. How… odd. Somehow, she just could not picture prominent members of SOLDIER doing something as ordinary as washing dishes.

The image of Angeal in a pink, frilly apron suddenly was at the forethought of her brain and she blushed deeply once again.

"It would be wasteful to merely dispose of an easily reusable box such as this." Angeal stated plainly. His eyebrows lowered with concern as he pulled a glove from his hand and gently placed his palm on her forehead, "You're quite red, are you feeling alright? Have you eaten anything today?"

"I - I think so? I've been busy today and haven't had a chance to sit down for long." Kalika blurted as she froze in place. Should she move away from his hand? Or would that be rude? Why was he being so friendly? Was he always this caring to strangers? Especially a stranger that just hit on him a minute ago. The blush returned full force to her face with that traitorous thought.

Before she could panic any further, he pulled his hand away and once again donned his glove. The young woman breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Busy? But you're closed!" Zack spoke up, and cocked his head to the side, "Wait, why are you closed? Shouldn't this place be hopping right now?"

Both sets of bright blue eyes settled on her with varying inquisitiveness. Zack's was honest confusion but Angeal's was less readable. His mouth was set in a straight line across his strong jaw while his eyes held a spark of suspicion that set a cold sweat down Kalika's spine.

Oh boy, how could she explain this without outright blaming them for the necessary closure and the empty ingredient cabinet?

"I… well… you see, ever since your last visit, business has been crazy. Lately I can't keep to the hours we normally hosted. Sometimes I'm up all night preparing!" Her words were spoken with a joyous tone, but from the lack of change in both of their expressions, she was not convincing them.

Angeal opened his mouth to respond, the frown of concern deep on his brow, but was interrupted by a fourth, unfamiliar voice, "Oh my Gaia, you're Angeal Hewley First Class SOLDIER! You're back! I can't believe it, I gotta tell everyone!"

Kalika felt the blood leave her face as her attention immediately snapped to the tall, blonde woman currently standing in the open doorway attempting to snap a picture of the two men.

"No, pictures without permission and we're closed, please leave!" She ordered, pushing past Angeal to confront the woman directly.

"What? But it's the middle of your posted hours and your door is open! You can't throw me out, do you know who I am?"

"Nope, and I'm sorry you've forgotten. Now, please get out, we are closed, and you are trespassing."

The woman's brown eyes flashed with indignation, "Listen, I don't know how you get off talking to customers like that, but—"

"No buts! I asked you to leave. I won't ask again." Crimson eyes sparked with anger as she stared the other woman down.

Red lips opened to argue further, but she was cut off by a deep, commanding voice "You have been asked to leave, you should comply with that request."

A quick, furtive glance backwards revealed Angeal standing straight, his burly arms crossed over his chest and a dark glare adorning his features. A shudder wormed its way down Kalika's spine. Scary, was the only thing she could think.

There was a beat of silence between the three of them. The woman suddenly looked appropriately ashamed of her behavior and without another word scuttled away.

The second the woman was outside, Kalika grabbed the door and threw it shut behind her. Much to her surprise, it bounced back open and that's when she noticed the lock was completely broken. Around the spot where the deadbolt should have been was a hole in the door frame and splinters scattered along the floor.

She shut it again, it bounced backwards.

She applied a little more force, it bounced backwards again.

Frustration and resentment burning within her, she tried again; it bounced backwards.

With all her strength, she slammed the door shut and before it could bounce back, shoved a chair underneath the similarly broken and limp door handle.

Defeated, she braced her hands against the door and let her head hang between them.

"It would probably be a good idea for you both to use the back door to leave. You'll attract less attention that way… plus, it seems this one is broken now." Kalika murmured quietly, not daring to look up in fear that they would see the unshed tears in her eyes.

"Kali…? Is everything… okay?" Zack's genuinely concerned voice broke the silence.

A lump caught in her throat and without looking at either of them she walked to the nearest table and sat down on one of the chairs, burying her face in her hands. She could not cry, not here, not with Angeal Hewley First Class SOLDIER and Zack Fair here to witness it. One shuddering breath later gave her the confidence to speak.

"Yeah, I'll be fine… somehow, I always am."

A shadow fell over her, "Is there anything we can do to help?" Zack asked.

"No, but thanks." Kalika waved him off but much to her surprise, he caught her hand between two gloved ones of his own. Surprised, she looked up into an uncharacteristically serious expression on the young boy's face.

"I swear on my honor as a SOLDIER I will do whatever it takes to help you, Kali. You're one of us now, right Angeal?"

"Don't swear on your honor lightly, Zack."

"I mean it! I do!"

Angeal nodded, seemingly accepting his young protégé's resolve. "How long has your door been broken like this?" the First Class inquired.

Kalika sniffed as delicately as she could as she attempted to take her hand back from Zack, but it was held tight. "It was fine earlier today; it was only just now that something seemed to be wrong. There was a hole where the deadbolt was and splinters from the door frame were scattered along the floor…" the young woman snapped her jaw shut when she realized the implications of her words.

Angeal's face darkened once again and his eyebrows angled inwards at a dangerous angle as he stared his young protégé down. There was a heavy beat of silence as Zack seemed to realize what was going on, "Oh… well… you know… SOLDIER strength, am I right?"

"No! It's fine really!" Kalika jumped up and did her best to placate the visibly upset SOLDIER, "It was old and in need of replacement anyways, I can probably write the replacement off as a business expense. I'm sure Zack didn't mean it."

Angeal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "His intentions aren't the issue. SOLDIERs have enhanced senses and abilities. If Zack does not learn how to control these properly, he could end up hurting himself or worse, others." He looked up, "I apologize for the door, Zack you're going to suspend a fifty-pound weight in a squat today to make up for your lack of control this evening."

Zack groaned and Kalika winced sympathetically, "I don't think that's necessary, is it? Maybe since you're really strong you could help me with something, and we call it even?" she suggested. "I still need to finish rewriting that menu sign. We're opening with a new item tomorrow."

Angeal looked over his shoulder to see the unfinished chalkboard, "Is that what you were doing when you fell?"

An embarrassed blush crept over her face once again, "Yes, it's too high for me to reach on my own. So, I usually have to get creative… with a step ladder… on the counter."

"That sounds very dangerous." The raven-haired man lowered his eyebrows in concern and disapproval.

"Maybe you can help Angeal! Just lift her up and she'd be able to reach no problem!" an excited Zack exclaimed and, in his enthusiasm, squeezed her hand that was still held captive.

The young woman sputtered, "I- that's not what I meant, but maybe if one of you could just hold the ladder steady? I usually have Anri to help me, but I gave her the day off today."

Angeal turned and with one hand lifted the step ladder she had been using, revealing one of the legs to be broken off, "For the sake of your safety, I would advise against using this again."

"Oh… I see…" the young woman murmured as she worried her bottom lip, how was she going to get up there now?

Zack was practically vibrating with excitement from beside her. A quick glance to him revealed that he was glancing quickly between the two of them biting his lip in anticipation. He was planning something, if only the blue-haired woman could figure out what it was…

"To make amends for the broken door, I would be willing to lift you as Zack suggested." Angeal offered as he moved the broken ladder out of the way.

"I mean, are you sure? I don't want to be a burden. Are you sure I won't be too heavy?"

The burly man grinned and chuckled deeply. The genuine mirth revealed pearly white teeth and the genuine good-ness that radiated from him was unlike anyone she had ever met before. "I'm sure."

Kalika blushed for what seemed like the tenth time in under an hour, "I – Well… if you're sure, I guess. I need to get the chalk." Walking forwards, Zack finally let go of her hand and Angeal stepped out of the way to let her pass behind the bar. Grabbing the chalk from the ground and the eraser cloth, she turned back to the First-Class SOLDIER, "Okay, I'm ready, how would you like to do this?"

Angeal stepped forward and for the first time she noticed how tall he was. She had never felt so small compared to someone in her life, he dwarfed her in every sense. She was eye level with the middle of his chest, and he was easily twice as wide as her. Another blush adorned her cheeks as he knelt to one knee, "Sit on my shoulder and I will take hold of your legs."

Nodding, she turned around and as instructed, gingerly sat on his shoulder, doing her best to put as little weight on him as possible. Two arms wrapped around her knees, locking them in place and the next thing she knew, he was lifting her into the air.

Sucking in a breath she flailed, unbalanced, for one moment before a hand on her thigh steadied her. Angeal Hewley, First Class SOLDIER of Shinra was touching her leg. She tried not to think about how her butt was on his shoulder and instead focused on finishing the sign as quickly as possible. Her hands and shoulders cramped but she did her best to legibly scrawl the newest addition to her menu.

"Dumbapple tart?" Zack exclaimed, "Angeal, didn't you grow up in Banora?! That's so cool!"

"Is that true?" Kalika inquired, looking down to meet the bright blue eyes of Angeal.

"It is, both Genesis and I grew up there. His parents had the best Banora White tree, every summer we would take as many apples as we could and sit in the branches eating them." A small, nostalgic smile pulled up the corners of his mouth.

"That changes everything then, let me down, I'm all finished now."

With one swift movement, the hands disappeared from her person and for a brief moment, she hung suspended in the air before being gently lowered to the ground. The black-haired SOLDIER stared down at her with a quizzical expression on his face. Setting the chalk down she made to pass him, "Have a seat. I'll be right back," and disappeared into the kitchen.

The fridge opened with a hiss, a quick scan through the contents revealed her prize. Pulling two small tarts from their tray, Kalika put them on a plate and made her way back to the front. The fridge closed with a satisfying click behind her.

"Here, to thank you for helping me with the sign, please be the first to try a tart!" placing the plate on the bar counter, she waited excitedly for them to each take one. "They're Banora White apple tarts with some decorative white chocolate to counter the sourness and some edible gold sparkles for presentation."

Zack immediately grabbed one and in one bite put the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes lit up as he playfully slapped his mentor's shoulder, "D'ese are r'lly gud An'eal! You shou'd taste ish!" (translation: These are really good, Angeal! You should taste this!)

Angeal sighed in resignation as he took a tart, "Thank you, this wasn't necessary as it is us who are in your debt, not the opposite way around."

Kalika smiled brightly, "It's fine, really! Plus, I hope that I can live up to your memories of the times stealing and eating the apples."

With a small smile, he took a bite and instantly his blue eyes lit up with surprise, his eyebrows once again disappearing into his hairline. Swallowing, he turned back to the blue haired woman, "You have a true gift for baking."

Flushing for the umpteenth time that day, Kalika continued to smile, "I'm glad you like them. I'll package up one for Commander Rhapsodos as well and you can give one to him too!"

"How much do we owe you for the tarts?" Angeal asked as she pushed through the door to the kitchen.

"Nothing! They're thanks for helping me!" she called back as she began to package up the third tart and then returned to the front with it. Angeal stared her down, his mouth a straight line and his azure gaze steeled with his resolve.

"Please, it would be dishonorable for us to accept these gifts a second time. Especially when your door breaking was our fault in the first place."

Stumped, she could only stare. Never had anyone been so insistent on paying for a gift. "Don't be silly, these are gifts, do you insist for payment when you give a gift to someone?" she held out the tart wrapped in a white box with Confectionary Affection stamped on the sides. "Here's Commander Rhapsodos's tart, try not to squish it if you can, and now it's getting late. I imagine you need to get back to Shinra, since the front door's broken and likely a crowd of fans outside waiting for you to exit, follow me to the back door."

With that, she turned on her heel and pushed open the swinging door and motioned for them to follow her. Zack hopped up immediately, but Angeal took a moment to gather himself and follow. Passing through the kitchen and a small hallway with a set of stairs leading to the second floor, they came to the back door. Pushing it open revealed the dirt yard and receiving area for her shipments of ingredients.

"Thanks again for the treats, Kali. They were delicious as always!" Zack called as he jumped down the short flight of stairs, an arm extended in a cheery wave.

"Thank you for your hospitality. You honor us with your generosity. Genesis will enjoy this pastry, I am certain." Angeal stated solemnly, his eyes shining with the depth of his gratitude.

"Any time, come by again soon. Preferably without causing any trouble this time. Using the back door might not be such a bad idea to avoid any drama like with that woman earlier." She pointed to a black rectangle with a button in the middle, "Next time you're by, just ring this doorbell and I'll let you in."

Zack grinned devilishly and took a breath to make a comment, but before he could utter a sound, Angeal put a hand over the young boy's mouth to silence him. "Thank you Kalika, we will not forget your kindness today."

The blue -haired baker could only manage a small wave as they turned to walk away. Zack continued to wave enthusiastically until they were out of sight behind the fence. Closing the door, her knees felt weak. The sound of her name on Angeal's lips created a feeling in her like she'd never experienced before. Sliding to the ground she replayed the memory in her mind until she was sure that it would be with her forever.

She had offered for them to come back again, but it was such wishful thinking she did not dare hope too much. Once was a coincidence, twice was a pattern, but three times was a dream and nothing more.

But oh, how she loved to dream.

Oh they'll be back, but in the meantime, there's other shenanigans that need to happen first >:3c

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you'd like! I always enjoy hearing your thoughts!