#so her fine motor skills are shot to shit

[valtsv]

I resent you for being raised right I resent you for being tall I resent you for never getting any opposition at all I resent you for having each other I resent you for being so sure I resent you presenting your life like a fucking propaganda brochure

drew some scenes from my own fic because it turns out you can do whatever you want forever

[sarahsartedits]

Riding on a dream with you

“Looks like I finally win, Red”-Roxas

Firstly I’d like to thank my mom for helping me pay for my art commission so that this exists visually! 🥰

Big thanks to @ultyso for this amazing beautiful artwork🌳🍃of one of the scenes in the story below❤️‍🔥 ⬇️

Also thanks to the roxiri server for listening to my ideas for this god knows this was all I talked about lol thanks to supportive roxiri friends & others who have inspired me @starrattlerofprydain @skytsunrose @roxaskairi @alphascorpiixx @whatsupfluff @dogoncabrera @eradicatetehnormal @twfated @twilight-blaze @paopubell @rxcketrvcer @yume127 @incorrectroxiriquotes2

Roxiri motocross au reimagined one shot set in the year 2000

Written for Roxiri from an idea I had earlier last summer mostly constructed from my imagination & decided to expand by a lot lol I’m not a writer & is only my second time writing anything similar to fanfics so forgive mistakes & grammatically errors. also this softly implies namixi & soriku going on in the background but doesn’t take center stage. Sora & Riku is briefly necessary adversaries for Kairi’s motivations it’s not meant to be bashing we like them over here. also don’t know shit about motocross I made shit up to fit my narrative

Warning smoking & language heavy angst & on with the story

Todays the day she thinks as she prepares for her challenge, Kairi is an inspiring motor biker determined to join the destiny islands motocross team, to put her skills to the test in competition & hopefully build back friendships with childhood friends Sora & Riku. she goes through tough impossible obstacles each time to join the team on purpose to vote no on her joining. Sora cheerfully laughs afterwards saying “oh hey that’s too bad, Kairi I’ll make it up to ya I’ll take you to the movies, my treat!” Kairi huffs “when i crawl up & die, I knew you’d do this, jerk” after walking over to blow smoke into Sora’s face as she stocks off as Sora gasps for air “fine be ungrateful! Man, what a hag!’’ Kairi rolls her eyes & balled up her fists what did she expect Sora & his team is full of guys who seem to have a negative attitude towards her in general with joining up. “Oh it’s too dangerous, you’d just get hurt.” As he continually keeps her off the team & from competing. She hears Riku comfort Sora telling him “don’t worry he did the right thing’’ & that she’s “baggage” to the team. It’s was his usual prep talk to Sora & the team that she was too delicate to be even riding a motor bike much less allow her on the team, use the trails & gear? Kairi frowned she couldn’t believe these were the same boys she’d hung out with most of her life?

Kairi lost in thought arrives home & finds boxes all over the house because kairi’s single & crazy indecisive mom Kayla decides to move them to twilight town in with her new boyfriend Nathan & his daughter Namine. At this point Kairi is up for anything to get away from obnoxious sexist boys & being blackballed by the other girls. She had met Namine a few times before moving to their apartment. To her surprise the blonde girl was very friendly & at the same time withdrawn & quite, mentioned by her father for her love for art & painting. Kairi was super intrigued by the girl & was hopeful that they’d be like sisters. Meanwhile Kayla brags on Namines art & mannerisms wishing kairi was more like her instead of having nasty habits like smoking & “dirt biking”. Such a nasty sport for young girls it was bad enough for your father look where it got him. Kairi rolls her eyes sure mom whatever as she puts out a cigarette. Namine looks like she wants to say something to Kayla but doesn’t just bows her head & looks away. Kairi doesn’t notice she can just tell her moms gonna ruin this relationship too of course.

When they finally get moved in, Namine enters Kairi’s room with a welcome home gift art piece as she was hesitant to, from Kairi defensive attitude towards Kayla for the most part. As they had a disagreement on taking her bike as Kayla wasn’t wanting it brought since she wanted Kairi to start over in a new town with new hobbies kairi was livid at the thought that bike was hers. It’s was gift from her dad a fellow rider who died in a biking accident. Kairi looks up with a small smile as she removes her headphones, ‘hello Namine. Sorry about earlier. Mother just doesn’t get me.” Namine hands kairi the rolled up artwork returning a smile, “you know, you could try out for twilight town’s motocross team you mentioned earlier of the hard time they gave you over on Destiny islands?” Kairi examines it as she puts in on the wall & ponders “i… just don’t know Namine… I mean what would be the difference?” Namine, “ well you said you think they don’t let girls on the team? Well that’s definitely not the case here, my girlfriend Xion is on the team & our friend Olette, it’s based on your talent not gender.” Kairi does a double take, what!? Why didn’t you tell me!? Namine looks down shhh I’m not out to father yet. Kairi whispers I’m sorry but that’s great you know you have my support. Namine nodded ‘promise me you’ll think about it?’ Kairi “I will”

Later that night as she’s having her nightly cigarette on her windowsill she spots a blond boy across the street in a neighboring building out on the deck porch noticing her as he paused from playing his guitar she puts out the cigarette & says to herself “sorry blondie no distractions this time.”

In The next few days kairi heard voices outside her bedroom door then a knock & in walks a raven haired girl with a bob hair cut & Namine trailing behind her. So you’re Kairi. Yes & you must be Xion? Namine’s Girl who also doesnt wait for permission to enter rooms? What? I so knocked & im impatient. Xion winked Nami says you’re interested in joining motocross? I saw your bike on the way in. You any good? Kairi sighed the answer your first question yeah sure second question it’s my life why wouldn’t I be any good? Xion smirked yeah? But are you motocross good? Kairi returns xion’s wink from earlier we shall see won’t we? Xion sure meet me at the ‘pit’ tomorrow for tryouts & meeting the team”.

The next day kairi & her bike walks with Namine to meet Xion at the ‘’pit’’ in the twilight town forest. The sort of twilight town’s motor bikers hang out for the team to practice. Kairi was nervous to say the least. Firstly noticing Xion & another girl fitted up in gear she assumed was Olette. This was a good sign she thought “there’s other girls on the team, if I don’t make it it’s my own fault” soon Kairi was startled out of her thoughts when xion led them over closer to the rest of the team. Kairi noticed that a blond boy who everyone seemed to be talking with, couldn’t take his eyes off her as soon as she enter the “pit” it seemed. Oh god it’s the boy across the street that was staring at me from his deck porch. Soon Xion yelled at him “yo Rox come here” “Rox” walked over with a smirk hey Xi so who’s your friend? Xion rolled her eyes ; this is Kairi, Kairi this is Roxas team captain leader blah blah totally hammy thinks he’s all that with fancy bike & skateboard tricks & his damn hair, for the love of God let me trim it it’s in your eyes, Roxas sighs shakes his head hell no, give me a break “MOM” let me do my own damn introduction, Kairi laughed Roxas’s eyes brightened & smile widened. Hey Kairi. Girl across the street who lives with Namine it’s a pleasure meeting you even if you’re friends with this one before Xi went nuts I was gonna say the only thing true about that is that I’m an amazing team captain who happens to be a skilled rider that’s it. Kairi chuckled softly ok I believe you you don’t seem like a ham to me as she played rolled her eyes Roxas oh ho ho ho this one got jokes? Haha well miss Kairi I wanna wish you good luck out there tryouts here can be as brutal as motocross is. Kairi nodded she could do this. As she walked his bike over to the starting line. Roxas called for everyone’s attention “okay my dudes & dudettes tryouts are about to start roll on over to the starting line & please let’s try to keep it clean & not to have a smash up out there….

Kairi couldn’t believe the competition as she smoked them all as she turned corners & made all her jumps which the pit made much better jumps & more room to freestyle than Sora & Riku’s trails around the island. (It seemed like she’d would be at a disadvantage since she had snuck out to ride the trails every chance she got when Sora & Riku would take trips away from the island to stay in top shape since Sora or riku would try to police her from riding their trails.) as she finished her run with a long drift into the finish line & remove her helmet she noticed all the stunned faces of Namine & Xion but Roxas had a different expression, resembling resentment. Kairi walked her bike out of the way of the others.

Roxas couldn’t believe this girl & her princess style bike not only beat the competition but she had sick freestyle moves thrown in to the mix. He just couldn’t let her join his team, not while showing out like that using freestyle supercross wasn’t allowed & was separate from motocross itself. Roxas quickly got everyone’s attention “okay okay chill out guys listen up that’s a wrap better luck next time.” Kairi Xion & Namine gasped as kairi turned away mortified & angry. “What the fuck happened?’’ she wondered. She started to walk away when she heard Xion blasting at Roxas. Kairi decided to walk back she felt she needed an explanation. Roxas “Xion I don’t have to explain how I run this team.” Xion “what the hell is wrong with you?” Kairi interrupts “no I have the right to an explanation I fucking demand it” she yelled hoarsely Roxas rolled his eyes, ok red here’s the deal I have no room for big shots or princesses that demands shit handed to them. That rely on freestyle to win motocross not only that, this is a simple tryout for a local team all you had to do way beat those guys in the race”!!! kairi I DID THAT! Roxas yeah but you still relied on freestyle. I can’t have that. I’m sorry. Kairi gritted her teeth “ fine blondie you should’ve made that in the rules beforehand! Roxas folded his arms my team my tryouts my rules rookies who don’t understand that don’t get to be on my team. Kairi exploded EXCUSE YOU IM NOT A ROOKIE! Shoving Roxas to the ground as she stormed off. Roxas chuckled to himself as he got up. “Reds got fire” as he smirked.

The next day Xion shows up to tell Kairi with much team discussion Roxas has had a change of heart that he will in fact let her on his team on the grounds she trains under him for the coming weeks before the local motocross against several of the local towns Destiny Islands included. Kairi sighing as she’d been annoyed as hell the whole night. Ok but why cause all that shit with me yesterday? xion sucked in air wellll I think he’s just being a jealous little bitch but you didnt hear that from me. Kairi ‘’he’s a what now?!’’ Jealous of me? Why he’s captain leader guy he doesn’t have to constantly prove himself that’s he’s good you can tell he is without him jumping on a bike & he’s seemed laid back & chill & people give him respect so freely. Xion dumbfounded Namine who walked into the room giggled “Kairi if I didn’t know better I’d say you like Roxas!” Kairi & Xion ‘what?’ Kairi well I might of if he hadn’t treated me like shit for riding good??? Kairi questions Xion again whys is he jealous? xion “right well he’s not use to anyone besting him is all. Kairi gawks what!? You think I bested him? Xion “again you didn’t hear it from me I think he thinks that. But he doesn’t have the right to act that way. Kairi nodded Namine so what are you going to do? Still join the team anyways? Kairi rubbed her chin thoughtfully hmm I think I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine I’ll make it my life’s mission to test his skills to the point he’s made to feel as insecure about his as he’s made me feel about mine yesterday. Ending with Xion & Namine give each other a nervous look.. this could end badly.

Fast forward a few weeks, Kairi had been meeting Roxas several times a week & once on weekends to train which was more like Kairi & Roxas racing & betting each other would beat the other. Roxas had to teach this girl who was the best on this team if it kills him he thought miserably he’d win & she’d win back to back. Roxas “you’ve had enough,Red?” “Not on your life blondie” “fine, just don’t cry when you lose” Roxas snapped Kairi exhausted don’t you get it I don’t lose, hold on a minute I need a smoke as she lights up a cigarette. ‘’I don’t suppose you would like to join me?’’Roxas looks mildly disgusted & curious “maybe if you answer a question you smoke often?” Kairi hands Roxas a smoke & lights it, Roxas coughs a bit but overall he’s fine. Kairi giggles “about a few years now & only when I’m anxious & angry.” & more often since my father passed,Roxas bowed his head shit I’m sorry, Red hate to hear that. Kairi waved him off softly ‘’thanks but it happened a few years ago from a biking accident, everything I know about motor bikes I learned from him.” Roxas nodded solemnly “so who are you outside of riding & competitions with me?” Roxas & Kairi chuckled she sighed im not much really I use to be cheerleader & wrote poetry typically girly shit” Roxas howled with laughter you’re joshing me! I can’t see it! Kairi mmmhhhmm I really did I tried to please mom, sora & riku, to try to fit in with other girls. Roxas interrupts “wait one minute you don’t mean trying to please Destiny Island’s motocross team’s own Sora & Riku? I mean are you even sure they even pay attention to anything of than each other. They seem, I don’t know, self absorbed in each other at meets are they a couple?” kairi oh them? I wouldn’t know they wouldn’t let me join their dumb ol team to notice, I guess they had fun together policing me from riding their tracks on the play island. Making it their life’s mission to keep me from riding my own bike, a gift from my father by the way much less keep me off the team. Roxas ducked his head blushed, well I guess I fucked up as well, I’m sorry my ego gets the better of me sometimes. Kairi pats Roxas thigh, no problem Xion explained. Roxas ‘’what’d she… ‘’

Kairi kept talking so what’s your sad story who is Roxas Strife? Roxas sighed “motocross rider, motorcycle rider, when his older brother cloud allows him to ride his. Roxas frowns solemnly is raised by his big brother Cloud since his parents both died of overdoses. Kairi gasps reaches out to hug Roxas I’m so sorry. Roxas so stunned & surprised at the sudden need to touch her back. She smelled of coconut & some scent he couldn’t place. Kairi released him, he suddenly missed her warmth but continued no problem red its been years my brother is keeping out of a home upstate so I could grow up here. I had a twin brother Ventus who didn’t make it to be a teenager. He died when he was ten hit by a car case of negligence of parents who couldn’t careless.” Kairi holds his hand & doesn’t let go. “Sorry death seems to be my life story.” Kairi “hey it’s ok if anything my father’s death taught me not to let anyone tell you no, chase all your dream or in our case riding on a dream.” Kairi laughed Roxas smirked “what’s else do you wanna know Red?” Kairi blows smoke “ oh your hobbies, ambitions likes dislikes Roxas well you’re looking at my hobby when I’m not playing struggle in the sandlot as a plan b to my ambitions to go pro at both likes sunsets sea salt ice cream hanging out on the clock tower dislikes drama authority figures big shots….Kairi interrupted “let me guess princesses” Roxas smiled shyly no princesses can stay he whispered. Kairi asked softly, still holding his hand from earlier ok blondie I noticed you playing guitar on your deck that night I first seen you, I like seeing that side of you, will you play for me sometime? Roxas blushed fiercely chuckled as he noticed she was at his lips, as he bend over to her sitting on her bike, he whispered back sure red whatever you’re into. Their lips met as they kept their footing on each side of their bikes tongues collided competing over dominance. Kairi fell powerless over this kiss letting Roxas take control as she hopes she’ll win if they do this again. Roxas feels his legs shake & letting his bike roll closer to hers. They lifted their lips apart slowly with Roxas smirking as he whispers “looks like I finally win”

In coming days, Kairi & Roxas were still just as competitive & bantering with each other as ever but with more kissy faces, which bewildered Namine & disgusted Xion as Roxas was her brother figure & wasn’t sure what to make of Roxas & Kairi’s new found relationship? Or if it was the best thing for the team? What if they break up? She worried. She decided to must confront kairi first she knew Roxas was vulnerable after the life he had she had to protect him.

Kairi meets up with Roxas on twilight town’s clock tower which seems to be another hangout for wayward teens on the edge. She met Roxas holding two blue ice creams which must of been the sea salt ice cream he mentioned. She sat next to him on the edge she also noticed his guitar, she heart warmed he’d remembered. He handed her an ice cream, ‘’I thought we’d have some ice cream then Ill play for you?” Kairi smiled “is this a date blondie?’’ She teased. Roxas blushed “it’s whatever you want it to be Red.” Kairi giggled “im teasing you of course it’s a date a first date in fact. I think it’s sweet like this ice cream oh boy it’s salty.” Roxas ‘’but you like it though right?’’ Kairi “it’s delicious thank you!’’ It’s beautiful up here you come up here often don’t you?” Roxas “yup since I was eight years old thanks to deadbeat parents I & Ven both came up here sometimes & I met some of guys from the team up here Hayner pence olette & Xion, an older cool guy Axel he use to be on the team when Cloud was captain, who decided to move away,” Kairi listened with great interest what a history of people she wondered a lot about his brother where was everyone at when he died? Roxas place his hand on her thigh what is it you’re a million miles away what’s up? Kairi looked uneasy “about ventus? Where were you when it happened?’’ Roxas balled up his fist on kairi’s thigh she quickly covered his hand with hers. Roxas continued not around I was here laughing in up with the guys & Xion. He was on his way here to tell me mom was “sick” again. What else was new? I guess she was worst than usual because she died a few days after him, double funeral. I found him you know? The car musta been flying he was unrecognizable for years I kept thinking how it could’ve been me we played out in traffic all the time…” Kairi said nothing just squeezed his hand. Roxas looked curious ‘’this must be a bad 1st date so far I’ll start playing if you want?’’ Kairi laughed out some tears sure Roxas smiled oh look you got a winner stick red kairi oh! What does it mean? Roxas smirked “it means you’re the winner of my affections haha” Kairi rolled her eyes “seriously that’s it” she winked . Roxas chuckled “I should’ve gotten the winner stick. I feel like a winner every day with you Red.” Kairi pulled him in for a side kiss. “ shut up Just play for me, beautiful” Roxas starts playing as Kairi starts humming with the tune before she starts singing surprising Roxas

🎶The dawn is breaking a light shining through you barely wake

and tangled up in you yeah.

I’m open you’re close where I follow you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face light up again

Even the best fall sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme

and out of the doubt that fills your mind

I somehow find that you and I collide

I quite you know you make a first impression

I found Im scared to know I’m always on your mind.

Even the stars refuse to shine & out of the doubt that fills your mind

you finally find you & I collide🎶

-collide by Howie Day

“Woah” Roxas exclaimed ‘’where did that come from?” You didn’t say you could sing! Kairi blushed tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh I did short stint in the school choir but it boring & tedious so I quit I prefer being active.” Roxas laughs “maybe we should do a duet next year in the talent show or something? Kairi giggles ‘’now you’re joshing me because you’re not serious?’’ Roxas kinda as I’m not into school functions but with you? Anything can happen.” Kairi playfully rolled her eyes “ok mister too cool for school functions” Ill hold you to that Blondie..

Kairi did well keeping Xion & Namine’s relationship a secret with their folks. when Xion came over to spend time with Namine, they’d just tell them Kairi wasn’t up for hanging out so Xion could hang out Namine in her room alone. Kairi spent the time to revive her poetry. She’d been inspired since meeting Roxas & everything Roxas is Roxas Roxas Roxas she thought dreamily as she overheard Namine & Xion’s giggling in the next room, it must have been nice to get to have your significant other in your room even in secret, Kayla toke one look at Roxas & decided they were never to be alone in the house even with Nathan swearing Roxas was a good kid known him for years he’s the boy next door hell if it wasn’t for Nathan & Namine she would’ve not be allowed to see him, Kayla was a social snob & thought Roxas was a hood & was surely doing drugs like his parents had after being raised by his wayward older brother. Kairi was so distant in her thoughts she didn’t hear a knock at her bedroom door & it opening revealing Xion, “oh I knocked I need to talk with you about something that been just on my mind” “please don’t take this the wrong way but what is your intentions with Roxas?” Kairi eyes widened & frowned “what do you mean?” Xion “I mean what’s the deal with you & my brother?” Do you love him, care him? Or are you just having fun what!?’’ Kairi was heated & confused “I don’t think that’s any of your business Xion!” Xion sighed “look, you don’t really know him Kai.” His past comes with a lot of baggage & needs better treatment around here than by your ice queen of a mom who barely lets him in the door… Kairi defensively “no you look, I don’t know what your problem with me is? He explained to me his past I know about Ven ok? Xion looked down whispering what he doesn’t talk about what happened to Ven why you why open up to you an outsider?” Kairi shrugged im pretty easy to talk to Id like to think. Xion huffed “ sure is having that nice figure & gorgeous red hair in his face now.” Kairi was just so confused with Xion. “Why are you complimenting me? You don’t think I’m good enough for Roxas?” Xion looked off out the window I don’t know maybe he’s actually not good enough for the princess & I don’t want him hurt? Xion’s eyes looked wet with tears Kairi sighed feeling her eyes with tears as well. “Look if things south with us I’ll let him break up with me, he has my heart anyways might as well break it if he wants to” Xion gasped Kai! I’m sure he’d never do that! Kairi smiled & walked towards to Xion “then do we have your blessing” hugging her from behind “do I have another sister like I have in Namine? Kairi winked as she saw Namine standing at her door which could’ve been a huge misunderstanding if she hadn’t listened to the whole conversation at the door & knew of the Roxas & Kairi drama with Kayla around the house. Xion laughed as tears were still flowing “oh my god Yessss as long as people don’t think Nami is also my sister blah!” Namine walked over to hug them as all three had a group hug until Kairi removed herself for Namine & xion to hug alone as so heard Namine whispering “im sorry Xi I didn’t realize it was so hard on you I’ll come out to father” Xion slowly slipped her lips over the other girl’s “im proud of you baby” as kairi closes her door leaving the girls in her room. As she ran out of the house to jump on her bike to meet Roxas.

Today was the day the final motocross meet up against Destiny island was finally upon them as the team sat up on Destiny Islands turf. It had been around six months since Kairi had lived here she hung close to Roxas Xion & Namine who’d come as a supportive girlfriend who had new found freedom with Xion after telling her father. Kairi was a proud sister for them both. As they readied their bikes, Kairi couldn’t help but feel nervous here the last time she was here she fumbled her chance with this same team that was now her competition. Since being back she had noticed a certain brunette & sliver head had become more touchy- feely than she remembered or maybe she spent so much time resenting them of her joining their team to notice. Sora kissed Riku on the cheek as it was Riku’s match against Xion who smirked knowingly at the fellow gays who seemed out & proud as ever as Namine come over to hug & kiss Xion’s forehead. Riku was like a speeding bullet thought Kairi as he beat Xion. Next kairi beat tidus. Now all the cards lay with Roxas & Sora’s match as the teams were tied. As they readied their bikes kairi walked up to Roxas with a hug from behind with a kiss to his neck Roxas smirked hello red what will you do when I beat him? “Congratulate you & kiss your beautiful face again?” She said nonchalantly “well that’ll work but maybe a tour of the whole island both of these islands?’’ He gave her a winning smile Kairi “you got it blondie” while the happy couple was canoodling they didn’t notice the happy curious look Sora was giving them as Kairi walked away when the race was ready to start. Roxas in all his glory made a spectacular show for a show off ham that he was & beating Sora leading the team to victory.

kairi had promised Roxas to show him the main & the play islands respectfully she was learning Roxas had such a fascination for the beach as did Namine & xion with shells as the two girls stayed on the beach looking at the shells they found. she & Roxas walked around the treehouse bridge around the paopu fruit tree. “What’s the deal with the star shaped fruit, red?” Roxas pointed out as Kairi started to explain the legend to Roxas. he became intrigued & exclaimed they must share one immediately. “How about we share one so that our destinies can be intertwined forever” kairi said softly “you already have my heart.” Roxas reached out to take her hand “you have mine too so we should partake in this famous island custom cement our love & devotion.” Kairi laughed “it’s just a legend relax blondie didn’t know you were superstitious?’’ as she reached up for one & handed it to him holding it to his lips, Roxas whispered “I just want you forever with me Red” “Ride or die” they counted one. two. three. & they bit down in in sync. They laughed as it squirted juice out both ends.

Kairi noticed spiked brunette & sliver headed boys approaching them she tensed the hand she was hold Roxas with. Sora was the first to speak, “heya! Nice match Roxas & they shook hands. I knew you were a good rider but wow you’re amazing.” Roxas hey Thanks dude it’s good someone takes the time to compliment me on my skills instead of calling me a show off ham. Kairi rolls her eyes “Xion started that remember.” Roxas laughed playfully im joshing you. They looked over at sora who just looked happy to be there in all they banter-y fun Riku who looked bored. Roxas to Riku ‘’hey you, you wanna show me this neat thing I seen way over there? Riku puzzled huh you mean the raft we built when we were 12? Sora suddenly caught on to Roxas ‘’yeah Riku walk over there with Roxas I need to talk with Kairi.” Riku “sure” as Roxas & him departs to the raft area. Sora looks puzzled over Kairi so how long have you & Riku been out? Sora blushed “not long & his parents were not happy but he lives with me & my family now. So how long have you been with twilight town’s own motocross team captain Roxas Strife.” Kairi’s turn to blush, “a few months I guess you have noticed him he was sure you & Riku never noticed anyone else at meets” kairi teased Sora frowned ‘’of course I noticed all that blonde hair & smirking. I just notice Riku more. You’ve got a great looking guy there Kairi. Sora winked Kairi giggled thank you Sora, anyways Sora continued im sorry if riku & I made your life miserable here after your dad’s passing we wanted to keep you off bikes. Kairi frowned looking down “you all had no right. My dad wanted me to bike” it’s in my blood despite everything I deserve it I might of been a shithead to you for demanding that I be on a team that doesn’t want me.” I’m sorry… Sora interrupted “no Kairi we’re still wrong for that we didn’t let you on the team because we didn’t want girls on the team…..”and his voice got quiet, “Riku thought it would be a good idea to push you away into doing something girly with your time instead.” ‘Wow you know how to pick boyfriends, Sora.’Kairi rolled her eyes annoyed sora “no kairi I agreed with him” kairi huffed and said ‘’you know what sora? you two deserve each other.’’ Sora “no please don’t go away angry” Kairi sighed “im not mad, sora I just don’t care I don’t live here anymore remember.” Sora pouted “you could still visit” Kairi ‘’of course & you & Riku can visit us in twilight town & triple date with Namine Xion Roxas & I. Sora smiled it’s a date.

Kairi walked with Sora to found Roxas & Riku hanging out around the raft. Laughing. Sora & Kairi gave each other a look. Roxas & Riku was in a good natured competitive talk about a match for them since they didn’t get to race. Kairi told them that Sora agreed to have a triple date with the girls in twilight town. And with that the couples departed Kairi grabbed Roxas’s hand, as they walked along the beach back to where Namine & Xion were last seen. Roxas questioned Kairi ‘’what’s up Red you’ve been quiet since talking to Sora anything wrong?’’ Kairi said softly “ I realized while talking to Sora that I don’t really care about this island anymore’’ when I was little I never wanted to leave Sora & Riku or this island it was home they were comfortable friends & I didn’t want to grow up but in a way they pushed me to grow up. We can’t stay the same & my mom as much as a ice queen she is she had a hand in getting me away from here.” Roxas said thoughtfully “ yeah I should thank her for bringing you to me” as he laughed kairi punched Roxas in the arm’’you do that she’ll make sure I’ll never see you again” Roxas “ouch Red geez” but I don’t think that’s true, that you don’t care, you wanted to make up & be friends again sometimes people just aren’t cool enough, but I think Sora & Riku have potential though.” Kairi ‘’ yeah I always thought so too, blondie.” “So what about us?” “Are we forever?’’ Roxas looked out into the ocean. “Until the end, Red” he looked over to Kairi with a quick kiss & a mischievous smirk & pick her up bridal style & carried her out to the ocean as she shrieked with laughter as dropped her in the water as she pulled him under with her for an underwater kiss.

fin~

[xxshift4teamcapxx]

Drunk HC for Snowjanus that nobody asked for…

So, let’s just say Sej and Coryo decided to go to one of those parties most likely thrown by Festus or Arachne. Kinda Ooc cuz these mfs are some goody two shoes. But we’re throwing that outta the window.

I dub Sej as the Emotional/Affectionate Drunk.

• Is all fine and dandy at first until those shots kick in. Then, it’s all downhill from there.

• Poor thing has so much bottled up emotion, that once he gets dunk the dam breaks and he can’t stop it.

• He’s cuddly and spitting praise in every direction and doesn’t care who it’s directed at. Even if he doesn’t get along with them while he’s sober, he’s crying and hugging them like their the love of his damn life.

• *while sobbing and sniffing up snot bubbles* “OMG! I LOVE YOUUUUU SO MUUUUCH!!!”

• You’ll most likely find him sitting down and clinging onto someone. Cuz the man can’t go five seconds with bumping into someone and apologizing about it twenty-million times.

• Gets along well with the shroomheads cuz their basically on the same level of intense empathy bombing. Just don’t give him any…plz lord. He can’t handle an ego death in a crowd of people. Mans will start to question the very fabric of reality.

Then there’s Coryo. *sighs* Give me strength. He’s the Sloppy/Blackout Drunk.

• All those preppy manners and traditional beliefs he has goes flying straight out the window once he’s had enough to drink.

• He’s stumbling and cussin like a sailor. Grandma’am would keel over and die if she saw her poor grandson like this.

• “I’m NoT fUcKiN dRuNk!!!” *randomly flipping everybody off*

• You literally have to physically cut him off because once he starts he doesn’t know how to stop. Will drink until he’s passed out on the floor, in the grass, and yes, outside on the steps of the Snow penthouse.

• Has and will be in a bar fight. Yes, it was because of all that shit talking he usually does in his head. Yes, he started it. No, he will not win because he looses all function of his motor skills cuz he doesn’t really drink that often.

• So god damn loud SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!

and a bonus…ME! The Happy/Chaotic Drunk.

• I’m laughing at everyone and everything. Most likely because I’m cross faded and that euphoria be hitting HARD.

• It’s embarrassing but random stripping cuz I get so sweaty and hot.

• You can catch me throwing ass on the dance floor one minute then laying around in the bathroom cuz the tub or the floor tile is cold and feels good against my skin. (Ngl it be feeling so good in the bathroom 10/10 would recommend.)

• “OMG I LOVE THIS SONG!!!” “WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” “HERE! RECORD THIS!!!”

• Don’t dare me to do a damn thing because I will do it no matter what. ZERO self control.

• Is loud, if not louder then Coryo. Imma say it again SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

• The gay in me dials up to like…a thousand. Sorry afab’s just wanna have fun loves.

[milkyruins]

## soccer coach!boo seungkwan x reader, A CUTE MESS

summary: through a series of semi-violent events (aka you're hit in the face with a soccer ball), you end up meeting the cutest mess ever (aka coach boo seungkwan).

genre: fluff

content warnings: reader receives a head injury, reader has a little sister

wc: 1.1k

maybe the lizard life wasn’t so bad.

lying around in the hot sun while waiting for your little sister to finish soccer practice felt amazing. you would totally be willing to become a cold-blooded reptile for the excuse to do this more often.

the sunny day was soothing and soon you felt yourself on the verge of a glorious nap. ah, you thought as your eyelids fluttered shut, this is the life.

“LOOK OUT!”

and then you realized that you were very close to a group of tiny tots who have barely any motor skills. falling asleep is dangerous on the edge of a soccer field.

all at once, a bulldozer’s worth of pain slapped you across the face. as you opened your eyes, a small legion of tears formed on your waterline, threatening to spill over. and your entire face started to ache. god, there was going to be a bruise.

for a small kiddo, that soccer ball packed a whole bunch of force.

“y/n-ie, are you okay?” your little sister called to you, waddling over as fast as she could. despite the visceral pain you were in, you smiled as best as you could.

“i should be alright! go focus on practice.” as she approached you, you gave her shoulders a quick squeeze before sending her back to her team of frozen peers.

a throbbing headache flooded your senses and you laid down to ease it, even if only slightly. before you shut your eyes again, you caught your sister pouting in your direction. ah, she caught you– you were not going to be alright.

after a few moments of peace, a voice loomed over you.

“hey, you’re the one who just got hit by one of my kid’s soccer balls? y/n, right?”

you opened your eyes to be met with an angel. the sun against his backside haloed around him, illuminating him with a soft glow. strands of brown hair, now honeyed by the sunlight, framed his face perfectly. and despite the concern that furrowed his brow, his beauty was still undeniable. maybe you were just dizzy from the

“ah! i forgot to introduce myself. i’m boo seungkwan, coach of your younger sister’s team– pledis fc? anyways, she said you didn’t look too great so i brought some stuff over.”

he handed you a water bottle. confused, you shot him a look of mild disbelief. “what-”

“this is for your head. it’s the coldest thing i could find in our cooler.” he squirmed a bit under your pointed gaze. nevertheless, he shot you the prettiest smile ever.

his eyes shot open and he scrambled to hold up his fingers in front of your face. “i almost forgot! can you tell me how many fingers i’m holding up?”

“three.” he let out a sigh of relief. “i’m fine, really. thank you though, coach boo.”

he chuckled a bit, shaking his head. “only my kiddos call me that! you can call me seungkwan.”

you shot back a half-smile, placing the water bottle to your forehead. “alright then, seungkwan.”

“you have to take extra care of yourself, alright? even if you feel okay now, you could feel worse later. call your doctor if the pain doesn’t ease up. and be gentle with yourself! being hit where you were hit can lead to concussions and whatnot.” he humphed to punctuate his safety rant.

you laughed a bit, waving him off. “i’ll be good, seungkwan. plus, you might want to be a bit more concerned for your ‘kiddos’.”

“i told them to do some simple drills, they’re taking care of themselves.”

you pointed directly behind him, and begrudgingly, his eyes followed. “shit.”

you were near hysterics as seungkwan scrambled back to his tots, who were dunking each other with water from the cooler instead. well, it’s one way to beat the heat.

but you really couldn’t focus on his coaching tribulations when he was such a cute mess.

the rest of practice flew by. no more stray soccer balls decided to target you and you were starting to feel a lot less achy.

once the sun began to sink below the horizon, your sister made her way back to you. a demonic grin possessed her features as her sweaty self pointed at the angelic coach. with a voice that carried throughout the entire field, she proudly announced:

“y/n-ie, coach boo accidentally told us that you were very, very-” at this point, a giggle erupted out of her. “pretty.”

your jaw practically unhinged at this completely unwarranted compliment. the pretty coach thought you were pretty? not only that, but very, very pretty? ridiculous. 

another person also seemed absolutely bewildered. boo seungkwan, who was in the midst of cleaning up after his players, bloomed bright red in response to your sister’s very loud comment. with a triumphant thump, the sack of soccer balls he was carrying slid right out of his hand, resulting in an flooding of soccer balls all across the once pristine field. 

perhaps… your sister’s words held a bit of truth? well, if that uber-smooth reaction was anything to go off. if that was the case…

you got up slowly (heeding seungkwan’s words to take it a bit easy) and made your way over to seungkwan, who was currently doing a little panicked dance. on the way over, you swept up a ball. 

“seungkwan? here’s one of your balls.”

he jolted at the sound of your voice, but after seeing the soft expression on your face, he eased up a bit.

his hand reached for the ball and stole it from your hands easily. “ah, thanks y/n.”

before he could turn away again, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, making him almost drop the soccer ball in his hand (again).

your eyes met his. “also, i think you’re really pretty too. can i join you during practice more often?”

“yes,” he breathed, stupor lacing his features. “of course.”

a hush fell over you two as you just enjoyed the proximity. just for a few seconds, the world felt at ease (and your headache quieted into a dull throb). 

seungkwan’s lip quirked up. “i can even bring a few extra coolers to build you a barricade. so, you know, no more balls to the face.”

“and i can bring you a sturdier bag. so, you know, no more balls spilling out.” an equally glorious smirk plastered itself onto your face.

oh, this would definitely work. this dynamic, being able to potentially kiss his pretty self, it would all definitely work.

[milf-harrington]

Steve with daddy issues is old news and boring, that man has mummy issues. "Yeah my dad's an asshole but I'm still gonna put my mum as a reference because she's a respected lady"

steve has parental issues in general - im so sorry my fine motor skills are shot to shit rn, typing is hard when im drunk so this is gonna take forever to answer - but i love exploring his relationship with his mum

my personal take on it is that they were fairly close when he was growing up and she was like. involved in his life and schooling, a real stay-at-home PTA mum, and this was partly due to genuine interest and partly due to keeping up appearances.

the idea of keeping up appearances i think would.likely have been one of the first things to fuck up their relationship, like as steve got older and became more of his own person the more accidentally controlling she became- kind of forcing her own needs for perfection/to be seen as perfect on steve until that Golden Boy rep was born

and then his dad starts cheating, likely young enough that steve never has a chance to consider it as a genuinely serious issues; and his mum starts following him on his trips to keep an eye on him (partially bc she doesnt wanna be cheated on, partially bc of that inherent desire she has to project a certain image) and then steves left alone a lot and King Steve gets born out of like. some mix of lashing out, trying to take control of his own life, and and trying to keep up with his mum's image of him

and then yeah the upside down shit happens and ive lost the ability to form words but thats my gist

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Promise

listen. i gotta write at least one fic per quarter centered around my psych class. this quarter is abnormal psych so yall get some psychiatrist Jaskier and neurology professor Geralt arguing over Conversion Disorder. I- i have no excuse. I am just this way. I don’t know what to tell you. Actually no, blame @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde and @dani-dandelino for enabling me 

Fun psych fact! Conversion Disorder is a malfunctioning sense or loss of voluntary motor abilities without a medical/neurological cause. Used to require a preceding stressor but the DSM-5 got rid of that and I’m no expert but im defs giving them some side eye for it. Think John Watson’s leg in the BBC Sherlock series, but it can be blindness or loss of hearing or any kind of voluntary motor skill. 

Warnings: i mean, they swear? it’s them debating the causes/diagnostic requirements/ possible faking a disorder. it’s not something that would be a common trigger that i can think of but it’s worth mentioning? 

_________________

“No, you’re not listening to me. The patient wasn't consciously feigning it. I’m not saying they were just in there to fuck with me,” Geralt huffed, setting his cappuccino down and glaring at Jaskier across the tiny café table. 

Jaskier’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he took a deep breath for his rebuttal. The psychiatrist was adamant that he was right and damnit he would argue his point until he turned blue in the face, “But that would go against your theory of a physical root to the disorder! If there’s something neurologically wrong then malingering isn’t possible, Geralt! If you distract the patient from the problem and suddenly it’s gone then it must be psychological!” 

“Bullshit.”

“I swear to Melitelle- you had better back that up with a reason,” Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to get angry at the neurologist’s blunt style of… well of everything. 

“It’s your diathesis-stress model! Your discipline came up with it!” Geralt dug around in his bag for his tablet, ranting as he set it up and punched in his pin, “You said it yourself that it's stressors, not capital T Trauma that bring this on! So why don’t other people have the same problem every time they get bad news or a shit grade on their test? A physical predisposition!” 

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, “Oh, so you’ve magically produced evidence of a genetic or physical predisposition when it’s been looked for for decades and not a single abnormality can be found? Please.”

Geralt leaned in and squinted to see his screen better, “No, a change brought on by the stressor that resolves when CD is ‘cured’. I like ‘resolved’ better but Yen insisted on ‘cured’.”

Jaskier snorted into his double sweet mocha with caramel and whip, “That’s not the diathesis-stress model. That’s wishful thinking.”

“If intense emotional stress can cause symptoms of a heart attack why can’t it change the brain structure?” 

His tone was absolutely pissing Jaskier off. It didn’t matter if what he said had any kind of logical backing now. It was all out war. 

“Don’t talk to me like one of your students, Geralt! I will-”

“Look at the thalamus on these scans and tell me what you see,” Geralt was smug. Fuck, Jaskier hated when he was smug. It was harder to stay angry at him when he looked so damn good. 

He shot him a warning glare before inspecting the scans and sighing, “They’re normal.” 

“Yes. Now these.” Geralt toggled to a different window of more scans. 

“They’re also normal.” 

Geralt looked at him in shock, then the scans, then back at Jaskier, “No they’re fucking not!”

The poor barista sent to their table tapped her knuckles on the edge, “I hate to interrupt but we’re closing soon. Can I get you two anything else?”

Jaskier flashed her an apologetic smile, “No, dear, we’re fine. We’ll get out of your hair soon. Promise.” 

She smiled and nodded, then crossed her arms, “I have to ask. Were you two like, forced to work together? Some of the other girls have bets going.”

Geralt was still engrossed in examining his scans but he didn’t miss a beat, answering in unison with Jaskier, “We’re married.” 

The girl laughed and turned back to her coworkers, “Karla you owe me your tips! Suck it!” 

Jaskier shook his head and turned back to Geralt, “Darling, unclench. Maybe your grad student just mislabeled the file.” 

Geralt shot him a glare over the edge of the screen, “Yen saw the abnormality too,” he grumbled. 

“Yen wants tenure,” Jaskier reminded him, laying a tip on their table and standing to shrug on his coat.

“She’s not… You’re right. She would magnify a possible finding to boost her chances,” Geralt pouted as he packed his tablet and followed Jaskier out the door. 

“Maybe send them to Ves?” Jaskier suggested, lacing their fingers together and swinging their arms a bit more dramatically than necessary. 

Geralt shot him a grin, “I’ll put them on the big screen at home. I know I saw it.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “As long as you actually come to bed tonight.” 

Geralt used their intertwined hands to pull Jaskier closer, planting a kiss in his hair, “I promise.” 

[elwenyere]

Decorative Gourd Season

(Happy Halloween, Stony fans!)

With each successive year, the Avengers pumpkin-carving contests had gotten increasingly competitive. Tony supposed he should have seen it coming, really, given the imbalance between their team members’ fine motor skills (literally lethal) and their sense of perspective (practically incompatible with civilian life). Sure, Thor’s attention usually wandered fairly early in the game, from scooping out seeds to refilling everyone’s beer (the man was a hopeless sucker for pumpkin stout). But Steve was an artist, Bruce worked with delicate lab equipment all day, Clint could bulls-eye a gourd from the length of a football field, and Natasha was like a Renaissance sculptor with a blade.

This year, however, Tony was going to win.

“You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.”

“I know, right?” Tony grinned, setting his new bot on the kitchen table triumphantly. “It scans the pumpkin wall for structural integrity and irregularities in surface texture, and then it matches the results against a database of classic and contemporary art.”

“That’s cheating,” Clint protested, waving the arrow he’d just been using to pick off the marshmallows lined up across the kitchen island. “We put electricity on the ‘forbidden items’ list after Thor fried half our pumpkins into a pulp trying to carve his with Mjolnir.”

“My apologies again, friends,” Thor beamed at them, tipping an extra pour of New Holland Ichabod into Bruce’s glass. “But the resulting explosion was quite spectacular.”

“Luckily, Barton, little HALL-O here is solar powered,” Tony said, patting the bot, which swiveled one if its laser-equipped arms toward him in response. “So you can all suck it, because tonight I’m going to be drinking the sweet apple cider of victory.”

Clint gave him the finger, and Natasha rolled her eyes. But Steve hummed non-committally in a way that sent off an instant warning bell in Tony’s mind.

“What, Captain Sure-of-Himself, you think you can out-carve a laser trained on the joint collections of the Louvre, the Whitney, and the Shanghai Museum?” Tony asked his boyfriend, eyes narrowing at the smug little twist of Steve’s lips.

“Oh no, Tony,” Steve said seriously, already slicing precise lines down his pumpkin’s surface. “I’m sure I couldn’t possibly create anything as elaborate as that.”

“Then why,” Tony gritted out, “are you smirking?”

“Let’s just say I think I’ve got a shot at the popular vote,” Steve replied affably. And then the bastard winked.

Well, that was absolutely not going to stand. Years earlier, when he and Steve had first started dating, Tony might have succumbed to his weak spot for Steve’s sassy moods. But he had spent weeks preparing for this coup. He whirled back toward his pumpkin, muttering to himself as he got HALL-O set up. He ignored the sly looks Natasha was casting his way every time she peeked over at Steve’s pumpkin. He didn’t even acknowledge Thor’s attempts to push a glass of beer in front of him: Thor’s strategy had become increasingly dependent on getting other people drunk, and Tony was not going to allow any distractions to come between him and the prize (a cardboard crown that read Burger Pumpkin King).

By the time everyone had finished, Tony was already bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, a perfect rendering of Caravaggio’s “The Calling of Saint Matthew” etched into his pumpkin.

“All right, losers,” Tony said. “Let’s see the runners up.”

Bruce had carved a super nova illuminated with candlelight; Natasha a delicately abstract series of flickering ballerinas; Clint a flock of birds that seemed to wink in and out of flight as the candle guttered; and Thor a somewhat lumpy Jane (again).

Steve held his pumpkin back for last, frowning at it theatrically.

“I don’t know, Tony,” he muttered, his brows knitted together. “I tried my best.”

“Will you just pony up, Rogers?” Tony growled, biting the side of his cheek to keep back the grin that threatened to take over his face whenever Steve put on his “oh shucks” act.

“Why don’t we let you two work this out while we get the movies ready for later?” Natasha said, standing up and giving Thor a firm pat on the shoulder.

“But I want to see!” Clint whined, and Natasha pinched him on the suprascapular nerve. “Oh fuck, Nat! Fine! Jesus. But this means we’re watching Corpse Bride!”

“Steve,” Tony said, as the other Avengers filed out of the kitchen. “Why are our friends leaving us alone with the pumpkins?”

Some actual nervousness seemed to have seeped into Steve’s demeanor. His shoulders had bunched closer to his ears, and his hands were hovering near the sides of his pumpkin. Finally he took a deep breath.

“Tell me what you think, Tony,” he said, and he turned the jack-o-lantern toward him.

In the corner were the cartoony outlines of Iron Man carrying a shield-wielding Captain America. The level of detail was probably pretty impressive, but Tony didn’t notice any of it, because in the center of the pumpkin – in soft, sloping letters – Steve had carved, “will you marry me?”

“Shit,” Tony swore, eyes darting to the spot where Steve had started to sink to one knee. Steve looked up at him with a small, hopeful smile, and Tony reached out to grab his hands and press Steve’s knuckles to his lips. Tony’s hands were shaking, but so were Steve’s, and the smile on Steve’s face was brightening as he held Tony’s eyes.

“You win.”

[teiasviago]

Shit I forgot the main question, can you please name some good 100% asoiaf fics

Of course! These are some of my absolute favorites out of all the ASOIAF fics I’ve read so far under the cut!

Chemistry of a Car Crash by HildegardtheB (WIP, 1 chapter left)

Over a decade ago, Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth were actors on the culturally iconic and certifiably cheesy, teen drama “Westerosi” (think of a slightly more obscenity-laced “Degrassi” ). They played Alyce “Dunc” Duncan and Roman Webber -- enemies who become begrudging friends and eventually fall in love.

Their chemistry on the show is off-the-charts, and Jaime and Brienne soon become “Westerosi’s” it-couple. However in real life, the two barely tolerate each other -- and that’s on a good day. Not surprisingly, when their term on the show is up, they part ways expecting never to speak again.

Flash forward to ten years after their final show. Jaime is involved in a horrific car crash. During a night of black despair, he calls Brienne. She is shocked. And suspicious. And doesn’t know what to say. Because they despise each other. They utterly and completely despise each other. Well … don’t they?

The Lion of Highgarden by winterkill / @kurikaesu-haru (WIP, 2 chapters left)

Tywin sends Jaime to be fostered at Highgarden under the watchful eye of Olenna Tyrell. After slaying the Mad King, Jaime flees to Essos, and the stories around him grow more fantastic as the years pass. When Olenna summons him to Highgarden for Margaery’s wedding to Renly Baratheon, Jaime meets sword-wielding Brienne of Tarth, who might just be his match.

A Beauty By Any Other Name by nire / @nire-the-mithridatist (WIP)

Jaime Lannister: security director of Casterly Management by day, graphic artist by night. Brienne Tarth: music teacher by day, audiobook reader and singer-songwriter by night.

Their paths cross online, and slowly, delicately, they build a friendship over mutual appreciation of each others’ works and perhaps too much respect for privacy.

Through the Windows by KendraPendragon (Finished)

On her return to King’s Landing after a three month selling tour through Dorne with Oberyn Martell, Brienne finds that her office has become the auditorium to the LLBLS - the “Lannister Lunch Break Live Show”, which consists solely of the new CFO of LBS, Inc. doing sit-ups half naked. Turns out almost her entire staff simply stops working when the daily show is on and all that hen clucking is driving her up the wall. So the CEO of Tarth Digital, LLC does the sensable thing: She calls that arrogant Lion. A phone call that will change her life. Jaime Lannister is not what she had expected.

Heart Full of Gasoline by sdwolfpup / @ajoblotofjunk (Finished)

Jaime Lannister is a Formula 1 driver with a sordid past, dubious future, and nothing left to lose as he hits the far edge of his career. He thinks all he wants is the world championship title he’s never quite been able to reach and to finally give up smoking. What he finds to his great surprise is what he really wants might be Brienne Tarth.

Brienne Tarth is an unknown mechanic eager to make the jump to the big time of Formula 1. When Jaime hires her as Chief Mechanic for his team of misfits, she discovers she’s ready for the work, but is she ready for Jaime?

i’ve had no love like your love (from nobody) by djelibeybi / @dilfjaime (One-shot)

Jaime flirting with Hildy should be the least of Brienne’s worries.

It’s not.

A Matter of Honour by nire (Finished)

Lady Brienne of Tarth was not pretty, but she was rich. Numerous suitors had failed to meet her condition for marriage, but the latest—and possibly the worst of them—might win her hand after all.

Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire (Finished)

Jaime wielded a sword well enough with his left hand, but a quill was a different beast altogether. Brienne found an ingenious solution, proposed in the form of a wager.

Or,

Jaime learned how to embroider to train the fine motor skills of his left hand.

I Hold You Like A Weapon by winterkill (One-shot)

“Stop!” Brienne calls out, “Hands behind your head and turn around.” She reaches for her gun but doesn’t remove it from the holster.

The man laces his fingers together in his golden hair and turns to face her. Horribly, Brienne’s first thought is he’s beautiful.

“You’re about to point that the wrong way.”

I hope you like them all!

[chromatic-lamina]

rascal: law and robin brotp fanfic

I have a lot of brotp Law and Robin in my fics, and one fic with them as a couple. I like the brotp interaction. Two cynical and supportive friends, but the writing is mostly in my multi-chaptered works, which are dark or canon divergent or both.

Anyway, I’m going to include an excerpt below. Robin’s painting Law’s toenails while they both chat about current and past loss and love. It’s from a three-chapter work that I don’t think will make much sense without knowing the rest of the world that it comes from, but hopefully this interchange can be followed and strikes a chord with some. I know the LawBin fans are thirsty. Post canon with canon-verse history and elements. This is an older piece.

🐞

Law sat back in the garden recliner in Robin’s backyard, a book over his face. He wasn’t in danger of burning easily in the late morning sun, but had no intention of making himself prey to melanoma. Robin perched on the edge of the recliner, holding one of Law's feet.

He'd spent the night at Robin’s in anticipation of the tea-towel convention they'd be visiting today. She’d spent the night trying to share his enthusiasm as he sat, tattooed arms spread on the table, poring over catalogues. His inked hands pointed out designs featuring disproportionate tulip-ensconced windmills, and disembodied body parts that had less to do with Dali and more to do with morticians.

She assumed all the creators were outliers. Commemorative tea-towels hadn’t quite taken the art world by storm yet, but they did remind her a little of Ryuunosuke, the very cute but badly drawn dragon that had struggled and succeeded in taking them all to the top of Zou. 

That was last night though and now, soon, they’d head off to gossip and gander with the convention organisers, the Dishcloth Dames, once she’d made Law pretty.

“These are so cute.” She pulled at the few black gnarly hairs curled on Law’s left big toe.

“Freak,” Law mumbled, moving his foot.

Robin laughed, righted Law’s foot and wiped the brush over the nail of his big toe.

“When did you last clip these?”

“What’s it to you? You’re the one who wanted to dress me up.”

“You’re the one who’s letting me. You’ve got old man’s feet, by the way.”

Law arched his bridge and Robin slapped it, held it down.

“The sexy surgeon’s pedes don’t please? You said they were cute?”

She studied languages. She had no difficulty with Law’s fancy Latin terms.

“Mmm. I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess you got those tattoos to distract from your tootsies.”

The ink on the bridges of his feet matched that on the back of his hands. She felt the arc of the bone against her palm as she admired the designs, although it was one of the more simple ones to adorn Law and, historically, definitely not his favourite.

“And yet, there you are, making them all presentable and shit.”

“Does Marco like them?”

“He’s got his kinks.”

“And . . . ?”

“They remain in the bedroom,” Law grinned. At times he thought the Phoenix liked every part of his body, though they’d never had a deep conversation about those particular extremities.

“Ah, you’re no fun.”

“I’ve been told.”

Law felt her move to the next digit.

“What colour are you painting them?”

“Tch.”

As if it could be anything but black.

“Well, you sent Chopper out for the colour once,” Law said to her silence.

Bubble gum. Robin snickered, remembering. Law peered at her from under his book, her shoulders rose and fell with laughter. He liked that violet t-shirt.

.

Law seemed so disinterested, and therefore, Robin guessed very trusting, when she or anyone else painted his nails. He usually paid little attention to the colour, or even the action. It was something that pleased those who found it amusing to decorate him. Just so long as they let him read whatever he was researching, he indulged them. A small compromise for a larger gain.

No way in hell could someone he didn’t trust do this, though it had been done. Robin knew that trust was hard won. Law told himself that he let them all think he was vain this way so he could go for their jugulars some other time. Plus, he liked giving the Dishcloth Dames even more to gossip about.

.

Thinking of Chopper, Law laughed as if the sound was rationed—a clipped exhalation. The tanuki reminded him of his navigator.

“Bepo. Lord, Bepo got it into his head once to paint me. Maybe he wanted to practice so he could surprise some lucky Mink in the future, and who better to be his chump than his ferocious captain?”

Robin turned to him for a second, curious, before proceeding to the next toe. Her extra hands manipulated Law’s foot for the best access. Law’s own hand kept the book in place. She liked that silver band he sometimes wore on his wrist—a solid link—a flash of sky reflected in the metal.

“His fine motor skills aren’t the best. You’ve seen his maps. Shachi and Penguin thought I’d amputated my own toes without the benefit of a Room.” A rumble lifted Law's chest and then dissolved. He smiled easily. The book didn’t cover all of his face.  “He even dabbed a paw print on my heel.”

“He chose red?” She loved that flash of teeth.

“Mmm. So. I guess it’s black?”

Robin finished the last toenail and told him not to move his feet about for a while. She then drew up the recliner next to his, lay on it, leant on her side and looked across. Law could be asleep for all she knew.

.

“Oi, talk to me endling. Of course it’s black.”

Law’s lips twitched. Only Robin could get away with that.

“So needy, terminarch. How am I meant to do that without moving?”

They may as well have just called each other Flevance and Ohara. They did at times, but neither could be feeling too off-colour when they did, or the devil fruits would come out to play. The town names as nomenclatures were off-limits to anyone else.

“Take that book off your face at least. I know you can’t read it like that.”

“Your makeup bag’s not nearby, is it?”

“Just the toes today, Dr. Death.”

Good. He was only happy for modification to go so far. He sighed, grumbled, but lifted a hand and picked the book up by its spine, and rested it—still spreadeagled—on his chest. He blinked into the sun, then tipped his head her way. Not the most comfortable of positions.

“Can I sit up?”

The grey of Law’s irises were sometimes shot through with gold. She wondered what his parents had looked like. “Give it a few.”

He turned his face skyward again, his arm over his shut lids.

.

“How about Luffy?” she asked. Luffy was before island living, before Law’s casual feet days. If they’d ever played around with nail polish, she’d never seen the results.

Law groaned.

“He approached my nails as if they were made of seastone, his hand was that shaky.” The softness in tone betrayed the annoyance in his words. “For some reason he thought a pearly pink would suit? Maybe it reminded him of marbled steak or something? Of course, he had absolutely no patience.”

Law scratched at his sideburns with his spare hand.

“He slapped it on, forgot to cap the varnish, jumped on me, bringing the sheet with him, or whatever we were lying on, wherever we were. It smeared over everything; our clothes, or more accurately, my clothes. You know, Luffy somehow always escapes his own chaos—and then he declared the whole thing stupid and boring, as if I’d dreamt up the activity and forced it on him.” Incredulity hissed through the back of his teeth.

He tapped his earrings. "Somehow the polish even managed to get on these. Nami-ya probably talked him into the whole thing for a bet."

“And you let him?”

Law didn’t need to look at Robin to know her expression; amused and bemused.

“You choose your battles.”

“Mmm.” Her captain could be quite domineering. She wondered if they were the same earrings. It wouldn’t surprise her. She’d kept the same jewellery over the years, but added to her collection with each pirates' haul. The ones that Luffy didn’t somehow swap for food.

.

She sat up and twisted her neck. They needed to get going soon.

“Phoenix?”

“Still trying to unearth his kinks?”

“Now that you bring it up.”

Law’s smile, the one Robin and only a few others ever saw, made her lips curve.

“I paint for him at times. I mean, my own nails. He’s got a lapis grounding stone, and his flames are blue when he’s in Zoan form. I try to match those shades—a balance between the two. Other times, I paint for myself.”

“Does he notice?” Marco had a grounding stone? But then again, they all had their talismans.

“Sometimes.”

“You don’t tell him?”

“Not always. Other things are more pressing.”

“Does he know you’re a freak?”

“I thought that was you.”

.

Law paused for a second. He tipped his face Robin's way again, his hand still protecting his eyes. How come she got to sit up?

“The dogs have never liked it. And you know, all that waste. It’s not really hygienic in the clinic either.”

“You operate with your toes?”

Law laughed. “When I do my hands . . . It’s not hygienic.”

.

Robin cast a glance at her back yard – the trees that offered privacy from the neighbours, the small pond. She enjoyed life in the New World now Luffy was pirate king.

“The dogs don’t like it, but Bepo can handle it?”

“Well, he’s a freak, too. Minks wear makeup, right?”

Robin nodded. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Makeup?”

“Being a freak.”

“To the contrary, some of my best friends are freaks. You can’t all be Chopper.”

Law calls Robin a freak and gets away with it. heh. Perhaps. Anyway, I’ll put the link to the AO3 story as the source (just edited it in. This post has been up for long enough).  It’s actually about dogs and links back to another story, and is kinda sad, and features Robin, but is about Law and Marco, and there’s plenty of humour too. If you want to read it, be my guest. It’s an older one, written a few years ago. T-rated.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone

A Tyler Rake/Established Female OC fic

Summary: A lot changes in five years. Now a family of nine, the Rakes are splitting their time between Australia and New York City. With Dhaka nothing but a distant yet still painful memory and the dirty work mostly behind him, Tyler is healthy and thriving. Not only as a husband and father, but as the acting founder and boss of his own mercenary business and co-owner of his wife's well loved and flourishing bookstore. But while love and domestic happiness abound, the past and its secrets are never far behind.

Huge thanks and tons of love to @tragiclyhip​ for never letting me give up! It’s thanks to her I ever actually finished off the last fic, or started this one.  And she also made my incredible banner! <3 <3 <3

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @tragiclyhip​

Prologue

FIVE YEARS LATER

******

The stand sits fifteen feet above ground and wraps halfway around the gnarled and twisted trunk of a centuries old Kapok tree. No hunter has made use of it in years; the stairs leading upwards weakened by harsh weather and neglect, wood cracking and bowing under the soles of well worn combat boots. Despite the added weight of gear and a kevlar utility vest, long legs and a wide stride make it easy to navigate the missing steps. His movements are purposeful and quiet; careful to avoid even the slightest snap of a twig or the rustle of dried and fallen leaves or the scratch of dirt and pebbles against the pitted and fragile wood. Any sound is a detriment in this environment; the lush and dense landscape so eerily still and silent that even a hint of noise would seem deafening. The slightest of movement has the potential to stir up the wildlife, which in turn would draw unwanted attention upwards from the banks of the Mekong River.

Even under the thick and expansive umbrella of the forest the heat is stifling. Humidity oppressive and choking. A thin layer of sweat gathers on his brow; errants droplets burning his eyes and gathering on the ends of his lashes. His shirt -long sleeved to not only provide cover in the jungle but protect from scrapes and cuts and the burn of the sun- nearly soaked right through; darkened patches under the arms and at the small of the back, the fabric clinging to dampened and slick skin. Fine beads settle around his mouth, and when he drops into a crouch at the top of the stand, he swipes his tongue over his top lip in an effort to clear away the sweat. It had been an hour hike through the jungle; moving swiftly and silently as he listened to directions being given through a transmitter he sports in his left ear. It’s sweltering and he’s thirsty; head pounding and his hands begin to tremble as the beginning stages of dehydration begin to settle in. He takes the time to remedy the situation. Shrugging off the rucksack slung over his left shoulder and dropping it onto the floor of the stand; hands shaking yet able to tear open the zipper. There’s two bottles of water packed in amongst the gear; extra pairs of socks in case of treks through swamps and marshes, two full clips of ammo that will only be used if someone on the other side is able to pinpoint his location and launch a full scale and fully armed search.

He hopes it doesn’t come to that.

Downing half a bottle of water, he uses the remains to cool himself down; splashing a handful of the liquid against his face and then dumping the rest over his head. Ten years ago, the elements wouldn’t have bothered him as much; he would have been thirty seven years old and still in relatively good shape. Physically AND mentally. And despite a consistent and punishing routine of heavy lifting, core training, and cardio, he’s definitely feeling the effects of both age and decades of hard and often dangerous living. Knees stiff and aching from the brisk hike over rough terrain and then through mud and thick brush; the arthritis that takes up residence in the small of his back and the right hip making its presence known. He’ll be sore tomorrow; every step he takes will send pain shooting through him, and for the next week he’ll wonder just why the hell he ever said ‘yes’ in the first place. Each stiff movement and slow step and aching muscle will remind him of just how things HAVE changed over the years. Gone are the days when he could skip a few days sleep; able to function on both little rest and minuscule amounts of food and drink. There’s no way he’d be able to do THAT now; push his body to the limits he’d been testing for so long. That man no longer exists. The one that would take the most dangerous and unpredictable jobs in hopes of catching a bullet. Who’d almost pray, beg and plead each and every time he went out that it would be his last; one sniper’s shot away from finally being put out of his miserable existence.

Things changed, of course. When he’d been least expecting them to. There’s way too much to lose now. It’s why every decision he makes now...every movement...matters so much. Even the smallest of mistakes can change the course of the future; one misstep potentially blowing his cover and leading to his untimely -and likely extremely brutal and bloody- demise. An hour away a helicopter waits for him; on standby to whisk him back to Vietnam and that little ‘hole in the wall’ hotel he’d been staying in. A quick shower and he’d back in the air; rushed to the nearest backwoods airport where a private jet would take him home. It’s been four days now; two spent in the planning stages before his first ‘hit’ in Laos and then the trek to Cambodia. Two for the price of one, Anil had said, although money matters very little now. These kinds of gigs are more a service; wiping out the dregs of society more of a gift to humanity than anything else.

He normally doesn’t take on jobs. A total of three in the past five years. This is the fourth AND fifth. The skills and the mindset quickly and effortlessly returning, the first kill a lot easier than he’d thought it would be. It’s like riding a bike; once the gun is in your hand and you’re peering through that scope, your finger easily finds and pulls the trigger. And this job had been impossible to turn down; the dirty and vile details hitting home and preying on his ‘human side’. Anyone in his position as a husband and father would have been enraged and disgusted. Drug runners and weapons smugglers that moonlight in abusing and torturing their wives and exploiting children. Sometimes even their own. People that evil don’t deserve to live; even a bullet between the eyes considered too kind. But it’s all he has time for. No ‘face to face’ meetings. He can’t be seen or even identified by name in order to protect his OWN family. He has to remain a ghost. An urban legend of sorts. Talked and gossiped about in drug circles and even among the local police and military who’d either been paid off by the criminals or had been hopeless and hapless when it came to stopping the activity. Nothing will be known about him. No glimpse of his appearance, no chance to hear his voice or even know his name. He’ll be known for just those ‘lucky shots’ he’d gotten in. Turned in to nothing more than rumours and speculation that will continue spreading long after he’s gone.

***

“T...you there?” Yaz’ voice through the earpiece. The reception is spotty; words broken up by heavy static.

He uses a forearm to wipe the mixture of water and sweat from his face, then lays a finger against the transmitter clipped to his vest. “I’m here.”

“Hot out there today, isn’t it.”

He smirks, then begins pulling pieces of a semi automatic rifle from the confines of the rucksack; hands moving quickly and efficiently as they snap and twist the weapon together. “I don’t want to hear your bitching. You’ve got air conditioning. I’m the one out in this shit.” His voice is low and quiet as he speaks. Even the smallest of sounds can travel great distances; echoing through the jungle and making its way down to the banks of the Mekong.

The river sits fifty yards to the south; muddy and heavily polluted and dotted with boats belonging to local fisherman. One vessel stands out from the crowd. A large and expensive houseboat; the chrome that lines the powerful motor and makes up the railings on the top deck sparkling in the sunlight. His mark is inside; meeting with some of Anil’s people acting under the guise of weapons buyers. When the time is right, the man in question will be led out onto the bottom deck and he’ll have one shot to get the job done. It’s another reason Anil had personally sought him out; his marksmanship impeccable, no other employee coming close to possessing that level of skill.

“You good?” Yaz inquires.

“Yeah…” he snaps the magazine in place and then switches off the safety. “...I’m good.”

“I’ll let you know when there’s movement. Going silent for now.”

He tears off the lid of the second bottle of water and takes a single sip before setting it down; using his sleeve to wipe both the opening and every side of the plastic. He can’t leave any trace of himself behind. Not a drop of sweat or a hint of saliva or his fingerprints. He’ll wipe the stand down before he leaves; methodically cleaning anything he may have come in contact with. IF his location is discovered, money talks. Anyone remotely related to his mark will pay to get answers, and the police will take what’s offered and collect every shred of possible evidence. He can’t take that chance. A single, unattached person may not care. Had he still been the guy living in the rundown and beaten up shack in the outback, he wouldn’t have thought twice about covering his tracks. But lives depend on him. A wife and seven beautiful little humans that count on him to protect them and keep them safe.

He CAN’T fuck this up.

Up in the stand he’s well hidden; camouflaged by the abundance of thick, lush greenery. It’ll be a tough shot through twisted and tangled branches; not even a foot of clearance between wood and leaves. Depending on exactly where his mark is led, he’ll compensate for that; pulling to the right or left in order to prevent the bullet from getting too ‘dirty’. He’s made tougher shots; mostly in his SASR days. And there’s no doubt he’ll make this one.

He bunches up the ruck sack and places it near the edge of the stand, facing the river. He’ll use it as both a ledge and a form of cushioning; balancing the long barrel of the rifle will provide stability and muffle the sound of the shot, disguising where it had originated from. He winces as he gingerly lowers himself onto his stomach; the cracking in his hip and the soreness in both knee and shoulder reminding him that he’s not as young as he used to be. Forty-seven is ancient in mercenary years. Most never make it that far. The odd few get to retire peacefully, but the majority are taken out by a bullet; one too many lapses in judgment and the smallest of errors leading to their deaths.

But most never get to have what he does either. A normal life with a family that loves him ; thousands of miles away, anxiously awaiting his return. It’s why he’s so careful; every decision he makes and every action he takes is done with them at the forefront of his mind. And he thinks about them now; warm and safe in the confines of a townhome in New York City. Four days ago they’d travelled from Australia and he’d promised to meet up with them as soon as the job was finished. It’s their third Christmas there; an eight bedroom brownstone in Gramercy Park. The kids especially enjoy spending the holidays there. Quickly falling in love with the idea of a white Christmas and enjoying all of the outdoor activities; sledding and skating and seeing the tree at Rockefeller Centre and visiting Santa and the reindeer in Central Park. And while life in the Big Apple had never appealed to him, the draw of Gramercy had been impossible to resist. Quiet and quaint; tree lined streets and a private park and neighbours that mind their own business and don’t ask too many questions. He’d initially worried about standing out like a sore thumb; tanned skinned and the array of tattoos and scars and the ‘Down Under’ accent. It turned out to be everything he HADN'T expected. The feeling of small town life within an enormous city.

The back of his hand swipes at the locusts and mosquitos that hover close to his face; their buzzing and humming both tickling and irritating his ears. The right isn’t as good as it used to be; hearing slightly muted and distorted thanks to years of both firing and coming in close contact with weapons. It’s another drawback to getting old. Along with his eyesight. Needing glasses to read or to spend anytime staring at a computer screen.

“They’re on the move.”

He blinks sweat from his eyes and wipes his lips and chin on the sleeve of his shirt. Then he settles in; bending his left leg at the knee and wriggling his stomach against the wood beneath him. The latter is mind over matter; as if the simple movement and the way he presses the toes of boots against the stand will improve both shot and stability. His finger hovers over the trigger; other hand lightly supporting the barrel of the gun, allowing the rucksack to bear the majority of the weight. Anil’s people come out first; identified by the tan linen suits he’d been told they’d be sporting. The ‘Mark’ is a middle aged man, clad in casual attire; olive green cargo shorts and a simple white golf shirt. He’s short and stocky with greying hair and a noticeable limp; a run in with a rival drug crew years ago resulting in the amputation of his leg and the acquisition of a prosthetic device.

His jaw clenches and his lips settle into a thin, pursed line. His heart hammers in his chest and both his shoulders and his chest tighten. It’s adrenaline. That unmistakable rush that comes before an imminent strike. He remembers it well. And it’s both surprising and disheartening how much he’s actually missed it.

As they chatter and laugh, one of Anil’s men places a hand on the Mark’s back and ever so slightly turns the other man in Tyler’s direction. It’s all he needs; just enough of the Mark’s forehead to ensure a ‘kill shot’. And he takes it; the sound slightly muffled but still deafening as it echoes through the jungle and stirs birds from their perches and wildlife from the safety of their nests and dens. The bullet easily tears through layers of leaves and bypasses branches; finding its target and sending the Mark sprawling backwards and then down into a pool of brain matter, fragments of skull, and quickly spreading blood.

“Target’s down.”

The words are simple. To the point. And as chaos erupts down by the river, he calmly begins his retreat; pushing himself up onto his feet and slinging the rifle over his shoulder. There’s no pressing need or rush; Anil’s people have made their quick escape and the screams and shouts are coming from startled fisherman and colleagues of the Mark that had been inside the houseboat. He has time; methodically cleaning every inch of both the stand and the stairs and making sure he’s left nothing behind.

“I’m heading back,” he says, shouldering the ruck sack and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s suddenly anxious to get on his way; feeling the relief that sets in as he begins his hour long trek.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Not from the success of the mission or the satisfaction that comes with ridding the world of yet another monster. It’s one of happiness. One of peace.

The realization that each step he takes brings him closer to home.

[anubislover]

Not So Easily Replaced

(Ikkaku is pissed at how idiotic her crew has been while on Amazon Lily, so she does what she's always done - vents about it to Law to let off some steam. Unfortunately, when an argument breaks out between them, she's left to wonder if she's really appreciated by her nakama)

“Ugh!” Ikkaku growled, stomping into Law’s office with his second afternoon coffee and a selection of onigiri on a tray. Normally lunch delivery wasn’t her job, but since all the men had been “too busy” fawning over the women of Amazon Lily outside, the menial task had fallen to her; otherwise their workaholic captain wouldn’t eat. “I swear, Boss, if we don’t set sail soon, I’m going to strangle every guy on board!”

“Hmmm,” Law grunted absently as he poured over his notes. Ikkaku didn’t hold his monosyllabic response against him—he’d spent the past few days fixing up that Straw Hat kid and the Fishman. On top of that, the extensive treatments had basically depleted their medical supplies, Straw Hat’s freak-out upon waking up had wrecked more than half the operatory, and the Kuja had been pretty stingy with letting them replenish their food and water from the island, so she was sure he had plenty on his mind. The dark bags under his eyes attested to that.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to vent, though. Honestly, if she didn’t, she’d probably snap and end up going on a killing spree or something. Only Bepo and Law would be spared; the Mink had no interest in human women and thus hadn’t been an obnoxious Neanderthal, and Law had been too focused on keeping his patients and crew alive to drool over Boa Hancock.

Hell, when her captain was like this, Ikkaku could literally say anything and he wouldn’t even register it. It took a lot to snap Law out of his thoughts, and he’d never really seemed to mind when she ranted at him to let off steam. Mainly because once she was done, she was usually calm enough to take care of the situation herself, leaving Law in peace and with a non-murdered crew. A happy engineer made for a happy submarine, after all.

Setting the coffee and onigiri down onto the desk, Ikkaku continued, “They act like they’ve never seen a hot chick in their lives. I mean, what am I, chopped liver? They should be thanking the gods that they get to look at my gorgeous face every damn day!” The statement was accompanied by a dramatic toss of her curly hair. When Ikkaku felt strongly about something, she tended to gesticulate a lot, and this was no exception.

“Uh huh.”

She leaned against the edge of Law’s desk, hands waving about as she ranted. “Not that I want them to start lusting after me, but it hurts a girl’s pride, ya know? They could at least acknowledge what a hot piece of ass I am instead of acting like I’m some ugly hag.” She clenched her fist as she recalled how, just that morning, Shachi and Clione had basically given a lecture to the whole crew over breakfast about the superior physique the Kuja displayed compared to the average woman. There had been charts and everything, and to her dismay the silhouette for the “average” woman looked suspiciously like her.

“And that’s not the end of it!” she rambled on, smacking her hand against the desk for emphasis. “When I’m not ignored or insulted, they try to convince me to go out into the jungle to talk to the Kuja for them! I mean, I’m probably the one least likely to be killed outright, but it’s not guaranteed! They might fill me with arrows just for being affiliated with men! Are they really willing to risk my life like that?”

Her question didn’t get an answer—not because Law wasn’t paying attention, but because at that moment, her emotive gesticulating accidentally smacked her wrist into his coffee mug, knocking it over.

“Mother fucker!” Law shouted, scalding coffee spilling all over his crotch and papers.

“Oh my god, Law, I’m so sorry—”

“Will you shut up?!” he snapped, grabbing his nearby lab coat to frantically soak up the scalding coffee that had spilled across his crotch. “Don’t just stand there—get some towels!”

Nodding mutely, she ran to the en-suite bathroom and snatched up every towel she could find in the cupboard. “Here,” she said, trying to hand them to him so he could clean himself up.

“My desk, damn it! Save my notes!”

Immediately she swept the pile furthest from the spill to the floor and began patting down the desk, but she knew it was already too late; the coffee had completely soaked through several of the papers that had been strewn across the stainless steel surface.

“Law, really, I’m so sorry!” she apologized hoarsely, flinching as he turned the full force of his sleep-deprived glare upon her.

“Maybe if you’d fucking been watching what you were doing instead of ranting on and on, none of this would have happened!” he shouted, well and truly pissed. Not that she blamed him—a week’s worth of important medical and inventory notes was now a brown, sopping mess. On top of that, first-degree crotch burns would sour anyone’s mood, especially when they were only running on an average of three hours of sleep.

“It’ll be ok,” she assured, assessing the damage. To an average person, the mess was a disaster, but while the charts and notes that had been in the immediate spill zone were soaked through and ruined, many of the others could be salvaged thanks to Law’s powers. “Just Room the coffee out of the papers—”

“Do you have any idea how much time and effort you just flushed down the toilet?” he snapped, even as the familiar blue bubble filled the office. Drops of coffee were pulled from the sheets of paper like magic, but to Ikkaku’s dismay, much of the ink left behind was still smudged beyond recognition. “You’re lucky that wasn’t Mugiwara-ya’s medical file you just destroyed!”

“Law, really, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm him down. Her usually chill captain was far more volatile when stressed and sleep-deprived. “It was a stupid accident on my part. I’ll help you rewrite all of this.”

“Hell no,” he growled, gold eyes narrowing furiously, the tendons in his thin neck tightening as he ground his teeth together. “The last thing I need is you going on another stupid rant and ruining my notes again. Get the fuck out—I’ve got more important things to do than listen to you bitch and moan about how the guys aren’t paying attention to you.”

“Tha—that’s not what I’m angry about at all!” she snapped.

“Then what is your fucking problem?!”

“My problem is that the guys were being jackasses and I’m not appreciated around here!”

“Well if you don’t like it, leave!”

Ikkaku’s back stiffened, each syllable cutting into her heart like Law’s sharpest scalpel. Those words…it was the exact same thing her old boss would say whenever she complained about her asshole coworkers’ creepy leers or “accidental” groping. The greasy old mechanic was a sexist pig, but still the only one in that shit port that had been willing to take her on as an apprentice. It had always been an unspoken threat—if she left, no one else would hire her, so she could kiss her dreams of becoming a world-class engineer good-bye.

Trafalgar Law had changed that with his offer to join the Heart Pirates.

And now he was telling her to leave, too. To give up her dream, her nakama, and her home because she wasn’t willing to put up with a little sexism.

As if he could replace her in a heartbeat.

The thought hurt more than expected. She’d worked her ass off aboard the Polar Tang. For five years she’d toiled in the heart of the engine room, maintaining every little piece. She kept the gears turning, the motors humming, and the propellers running. Just from sound and the slightest vibrations through the ship, she knew exactly what was wrong with the engine at any given time.

Ikkaku had never asked for praise or recognition for her hard work—it was just her job. But she was as knowledgeable about the mechanisms of the submarine as Law was of the human body. She had always assumed he’d quietly acknowledged this fact and respected her for it.

Clearly, she’d been wrong.

She nearly screamed all this at him, but before she could open her mouth, the blue light of Law’s Room encased her, and in a blink, she was out in the hall, the cabin door slamming shut in her face.

Knowing better than to try and force her way back into his quarters, Ikkaku instead stormed down the steel hallway, fists clenched and muttering furiously to herself. Maybe she would leave. March right up to Boa Hancock and ask to join the Kuja. That would show them! She didn’t need Law, or the Tang, or men at all! She’d get along just fine without those jerks! Sure, Amazon Lily didn’t have any of the high-tech machinery she was used to, and working for a shichibukai wasn’t exactly something she was thrilled about, but at least they’d appreciate her, right? She had other skills—she was a hell of a tattoo artist, and was a damn fine shot, and could kickbox, and…

Her pace slowed as her heart forced her brain to accept the truth—she didn’t want to leave. She’d go crazy without machines and engines to work on. And sure, she was no slouch in a fight, but the Kuja were warrior women trained from birth. Ikkaku would look like a total weakling next to them.

And no matter how much the crew pissed her off, she wouldn’t trade her nakama for anything. Sure, they could be thoughtless jerks sometimes, but they could also be really sweet. Bepo may not have been much for girl talk, but he was always willing to lend an ear if she needed companionship. Her fellow engineers, Malamute and Skua, were dependable and shared her love of machines. Shachi was always down to help her pull a prank, and when he wasn’t drooling over the Kuja, Penguin could be counted on to talk her through her problems.

As for Law…by this point, he was more like her big brother than her actual brothers had been. They shared a similar devious sense of humor, was discreet about any feminine issues she might have that, as the ship’s doctor, he was forced to deal with, and he’d even played wingman for her a few times at the taverns they’d stopped in.

Had she just ruined all of that? Was Law just angry, or had this been coming for a long time? Law had threatened to fire her plenty of times in the past, usually in response to her back sassing him, but he’d never been serious about it. This time had been different—he’d been legitimately pissed at her. Maybe those teasing threats hadn’t been jokes, but subtle warnings, and her ruining all those papers had simply been the straw to break the camel’s back?

Ikkaku was deep in thought, mentally going over every encounter she’d had with Law with a fine-toothed comb, searching for any clue whether he seriously thought she should leave, when she quite literally bumped into Bepo.

The Mink took in her flushed, angry expression and asked, “Are you ok, Ikkaku?”

Oddly enough, it was that simple, gentle question that shattered her composure like a bullet through a bone, and without even thinking she buried her face in his soft fur and just broke down crying. “He told me to leave, Bepo,” she sobbed, scared and hurt and frustrated. For all the grief her crewmates had given her and all the dangerous positions being a pirate had put her in, Ikkaku loved being a Heart. Where would she go? She’d never find another ship like the Polar Tang. Another crew like the Heart Pirates. Another captain like Trafalgar Law.

Bepo, though shocked that the normally fiery and confident engineer was using his fur as a tissue, didn’t say anything—he just carefully rubbed her back and hoped that letting her treat him like a massive teddy bear would calm her down enough to explain what had happened.

XXX

“Ok, real talk—has anyone noticed anything…different about Ikkaku lately?” Penguin asked as he sat down to lunch.

“You’d have to actually see her to notice something,” Shachi replied, brow furrowing. He glanced over at Uni, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses. “You been giving her stealth lessons or something?”

Uni frowned behind his bandana. “No, but she’s definitely avoiding us. It’s been a week since we left Amazon Lily, and I can count the number of times I’ve seen her on one hand.”

“Same,” Ermine said as they finished molding Law’s onigiri into the perfect triangles the captain liked. “I actually thought we left her behind for a minute—nearly asked Jean Bart to turn the ship around to get her.”

Malamute rubbed his chin, mouth twisting in concern. “Nah, she’s here, but she’s mad at us about something—barely leaves the engine room most days, and she basically refuses to talk to me and Skua.”

His fellow engineer nodded. “We thought it might just be her time of the month, but that ended over a week ago according to the calendar.”

“You guys keep track of her menstrual cycles?” Clione asked, weirded out. The rest of the crew wore similar expressions of disbelief and disapproval.

“Out of self-preservation!” Skua shouted defensively. “We’re in a hot, confined space where she has easy access to heavy tools—of course we wanna know when we should have emergency placating chocolate on-hand!”

“We tried the chocolate anyway, though,” Malamute added. “She just…waved it away and kept working.”

The cook’s frown deepened at that bit of information. “Ikkaku never turns down chocolate,” Ermine said, “and she hasn’t shown up to lunch, dinner, or breakfast all week.”

“She’s been eating, though, right?” Penguin asked, concerned. He didn’t care how mad she was; it was no excuse to skip out on meals. It was bad enough Law was an insomniac that got most of his nutrients through coffee and onigiri. It would be a cold day in hell before he would stand for an anorexic engineer.

A large, white paw shyly raised in the air as Bepo interjected, “I’ve been bringing her meals so she doesn’t have to come by the galley. She’s…wanted some time to herself.” He dropped his head gloomily. “Sorry.”

“But she’s talked to you?”

“Ummm, a little bit,” he muttered, twiddling his claws. After she’d stopped crying, Ikkaku had spilled her guts about everything—her issues with the crew, her argument with Law, and why his words had affected her so badly. Though sympathetic, Bepo was certain Law hadn’t meant his thoughtless words—underneath his casual persona, he cared deeply about his crew and would never let any of them go for such a silly reason.

At first, Bepo’d tried to get her to go back and talk to the captain, but she’d shot that down quickly—with the mood Law had been in, it would do nothing but start another argument. The Mink had hoped that, now that they were sailing away from Amazon Lily and Law wouldn’t have to worry about Straw Hat’s injuries anymore, they’d both cool down and the whole thing would blow over.

Unfortunately, the past week had proven otherwise. Ikkaku had taken to hiding deep in the bowels of the ship, and Law had been so focused on redoing all those notes and charts that he hadn’t left his quarters in days. Bepo wasn’t a Mink who liked confrontation, and he certainly didn’t want to choose sides between his oldest friend and his favorite engineer, so he’d relegated himself to supplying food to both parties, hoping one of them would finally get tired of the oppressive silence and breach the topic.

As the crew frantically gathered around him, hoping to finally have an answer to the Mystery of the Missing Engineer, Bepo began to wonder if he should have just locked both humans in an empty room and made them talk it out.

Not that such a plan would have been very effective with Law’s powers, but it was better than nothing.

“Talk, Bepo,” Shachi growled, pulling a flashlight out of his pocket and shining it directly into the bear’s black eyes like he was in an interrogation room. “What’s up with Ikkaku?”

“Why’s she hiding from us?” Clione interjected.

“Why are you the only one she’s talking to?” added Jude.

“Is she pregnant and going through weird mood swings or something?” Skua asked loudly.

Bepo blanched at that last one. “No, she…she’s just kind of upset about…how you all acted on Amazon Lily.”

Exasperated, Ermine rolled their eyes. “What, was she jealous about all the attention we gave Hancock’s crew?”

“No, but…you guys were really insensitive. Like, that presentation—”

“It was a joke!” Shachi defended, though a guilty blush rose to his cheeks.

“And asking her to venture into the jungle to talk to the women for you—”

“Hey, she was the only one who they wouldn’t kill on-sight!” Jude sulked.

“And then she had to bring Law his lunch because you were all too busy staring at the Kuja.”

“Wow. Having to do that one menial task must have been such an inconvenience,” Malamute scoffed.

At the back of the grumbling crowd, Jean Bart awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. He hadn’t been on the crew long, so he didn’t really think it was his place to get involved, but he had the feeling Ikkaku had taken whatever had been said and done a little more personally than they thought. “Look, regardless of how we feel, we should all apologize to her. I mean, I don’t know her great, but does she usually give the silent treatment for this long?”

“Well, no,” Clione stated, looking a bit nervous. “Typically, she yells at us and smacks us around a bit, or maybe pulls some embarrassing prank, but she’s never quiet.”

“So, what’s this mean?”

“It means this is serious.” Penguin frowned at Bepo, who was looking around anxiously as if hoping to escape. “Ok, spill. You’re the only one she’s talked to, and you clearly have a better idea of what’s going on than we do. What’s Ikkaku really upset about?”

The Mink hung his head sorrowfully. “Sorry.”

“Damn it, don’t apologize! Just tell us!”

“It’s just…”

“Are you guys bullying Bepo again?” came a voice from the doorway. The crew turned to find Law strolling into the galley, looking thinner and more exhausted than usual, but he was at least out of his room and among the living.

Still shining his flashlight in Bepo’s face, Shachi yelled, “Captain! You gotta help us—Ikkaku’s basically been AWOL all week and won’t talk to anyone, and Bepo won’t tell us why!”

Law plopped into his chair and grabbed an onigiri, scoffing as he took a large bite. “She bitched at me for a while about how you all were being sexist pigs. Figured she would have gotten over it by now.”

“She complained to you about it?” Jean Bart asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, and then she managed to spill hot coffee on my crotch and ruin the inventory list for the infirmary that I’d spent hours compiling.”

The crew unanimously gave a sympathy wince.

Taking another large bite of his lunch, Law continued, “We’ll be making port in a few days—she’ll come to her senses once she’s spent some time off the ship.”

“You…you want her to leave the ship?” Bepo asked, voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Time apart will do us some good,” he replied with a shrug, activating his Room for a moment to remove the flashlight from Shachi’s hand.

“How…how much time?”

“Well, we’re not making port any longer than necessary. If she hasn’t gotten her shit together by then, that’s her problem.”

Bepo’s heart dropped into his stomach. What did Law mean “get her shit together”? Was he talking about packing her things? Was he really kicking her out over a silly argument over spilled coffee and ruined paperwork?

“Law!” the Mink shouted, jerking to his feet so quickly his knees knocked the table. “Please reconsider!”

Dark blue eyebrows rose at the normally soft-spoken navigator’s outburst. “There’s nothing to reconsider. Ikkaku’s a big girl—I agree that the sexism she faced was unacceptable, but she’s never had a problem handling that kind of shit herself.” His face twisted into a scowl. “And considering how I only just finished redoing all the work she destroyed, my tolerance for temper tantrums is at an all-time low.”

“She offered to help you rewrite it!” Bepo argued, slapping his paws down on the table. “Is some soggy paperwork worth losing your best engineer over?” Pausing, he glanced at Malamute and Skua. “Uh, no offense. Sorry.”

“None taken,” the duo said in unison, though their jaws dropped a second later as they registered the Mink’s words. “Wait, what?!”

“What do you mean ‘losing’ Ikkaku?” Penguin snapped, grabbing him by the orange collar of his boiler suit.

Shachi grabbed the flashlight again and climbed onto the table to shine it into Bepo’s face. “Talk, bear! Is Ikkaku quitting or something?”

“Because we won’t let her!” several of the crew shouted.

“Everybody calm down!” Law snapped, his deep voice silencing the rambunctious crew. “You all acted like idiots around the Kuja—I don’t blame her for being annoyed at you. But if your petty acts of sexism could drive her off that easily, she wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes at her old job. You’re blowing everything out of proportion.”

“You’re the one who told her to leave over a spilled cup of coffee!” Bepo angrily stated, only to immediately shrink back when he realized just who he’d yelled at. “Sorry.”

“Whoa, wait, Law, did you fire her?” Penguin asked, genuinely horrified as he numbly released Bepo’s collar. Of all the things that could have been bothering Ikkaku, that hadn’t even made his list. Sure, she could be tempestuous, but that had never bothered Law before—on the contrary, Penguin had always assumed his old friend liked trading snarky barbs with.

“I didn’t—why would I—I was just pissed because she spilled hot coffee all over crotch!” Law defended, even as he inwardly cringed at the way his entire crew had turned to glare at him judgmentally. Shachi had even turned the flashlight’s intense beam on him.

“But was that worth actually firing her over?”

“I didn’t fire her! Yeah, we argued, but I never said she was fired. At most, I told her to get the fuck out of my office.”

“That’s not all you said,” Bepo mumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Flinty gold eyes narrowed at the sulking Mink. It was extremely out of character for Bepo to snap at or sass anyone—least of all Law. His brow furrowed as he thought back to his fight with Ikkaku—the memory was a bit hazy due to the lack of sleep he’d gotten. “Then what exactly did I say to her? What could have possibly been so bad that it could make her think I’m firing her?”

“You said…she told me…” Bepo took a deep breath. He hated scolding his captain, but he hated the idea of Ikkaku leaving even more, especially if this really was just a big misunderstanding. “You said to her ‘if you don’t like it, leave’.”

A sour taste worse than umeboshi filled his mouth as Law realized the full implications of what he’d said and done. He clearly remembered her old boss, a scowling, greasy man who’d shouted at her when she’d argued that she deserved to be respected as the talented engineer she was and not just seen as eye-candy.

If you don’t like it, leave, he’d sneered through crooked teeth as the other mechanics sniggered. Good luck finding anyone else willing to hire an inexperienced chick, though. Law could distinctly remember the hot surge of outrage he’d felt on the woman’s behalf; in less than ten minutes, she’d managed to identify what was wrong with the Tang’s engine and exactly how to fix it. Yet because she was the sole female in the shop—because she was a little bit different—she was overlooked and scorned, with her boss refusing to check for himself.

It had reminded Law a little too much of how quickly he’d been rejected from every hospital Cora-san had taken him to, the so-called “expert” doctors refusing to believe that Amber Lead was not contagious, or even examine the white patches across his skin.

And maybe—just maybe—the way her curly hair fanned out around her shoulders and down her back reminded him just a tiny bit of a certain black, feathered jacket.

Law hadn’t even bothered to consider whether or not the woman might want to become a pirate before he’d activated his Room and cut her boss to pieces. He’d then turned to Ikkaku, whose dark eyes had been wide with shock but not fear, and told her that if she could fix his engine as easily as she claimed, she was welcome to join his crew.

Now he stood to lose her due to his own sleep-deprived stupidity.

“…fuck.”

XXX

Down in the engine room, Ikkaku lay on her back underneath the ship’s engine, tightening the bolts that secured the freshly-cleaned cooling pipes. Since her argument with Law she’d basically spent every waking hour disassembling, repairing, and reassembling every piece she could. She trusted Skua and Malamute to take good care of the sub after she was gone, but the Polar Tang deserved nothing less than a thorough inspection and tune-up as thanks for carrying her so far.

She’d give the crew their own goodbye once they reached port. She hoped they were still too blinded by the hearts in their eyes to notice she’d been avoiding them. It wasn’t out of anger anymore; instead, she was scared she’d start blubbering. Admitting that Law had decided to toss her out on her ass was humiliating and heartbreaking, and she honestly wasn’t sure how the others would react. They could just as easily stage a mutiny as shrug it off as her overreacting.

Perhaps she was freaking out over nothing—Law hadn’t even left his room since their fight. Surely if he really wanted her gone, he could have marooned her back on Amazon Lily. Then again, he was a sadistic bastard; luring her into a false sense of security, then dumping her and her belongings onto the next port they landed on wouldn’t be entirely out of character. Or maybe her years of service had earned her enough mercy that he was willing to wait until they were at an island where Ikkaku could potentially find work instead of stranding her in the Calm Belt.

Whatever it was, she had every intention of confronting him about it after dinner. If this was all just a big misunderstanding, she planned to give him a good smack upside the head. If she was really fired, she wanted at least enough time to pack her things and say her proper goodbyes.

Until then, all she could do was stay busy to pass the time and hope that the knot of anxiety that twisted in her stomach would loosen up by the time she talked to him.

She didn’t want to leave, but if Law decided she was really that expendable, there wasn’t much she could do but try to hold onto at least a shred of dignity.

Reaching over to her tool kit, Ikkaku fished out her screwdriver, silently lamenting over the sad state of her tools. She’d planned on picking up some new ones back on Sabaody, but with all the chaos that had taken place, she’d missed her chance, and she wasn’t sure she could justify the cost now that her job was in jeopardy.

The sharp click clack of heeled boots against the metal floor startled her out of her thoughts. Glancing towards the sound, she immediately knew from the spotted jeans that filled her vision that, for better or for worse, the mystery of her termination was about to be solved.

She watched as Law turned around, and she knew from the barely-audible creek of the pipes that he had chosen to lean against them. Ikkaku had yelled at him for doing that more than a few times in the past, but this time she kept her mouth shut. Most likely he’d done it to provoke such a reaction out of her, but why? To break the viscous tension that filled the room by establishing a sense of normalcy, or so he��d have another cause to fire her?

Whatever his reason, Ikkaku refused to be the first to speak. Whether he wanted to kick her out or extend the olive branch, he’d have to make the first move.

After a few minutes of silence where Law merely stood there and Ikkaku continued to tighten the bolts, he finally sighed. “Penguin tells me that you haven’t been eating dinner with the crew,” Law’s low, nonchalant voice rumbled through the pipes.

If Penguin had to tell you, that says that you haven’t been eating with them, either, she thought sourly, though opted to stay quiet. She didn’t want to turn this into an argument if he intended to apologize. And if he planned to fire her…well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of riling her up.

Noting her unusual silence, he continued, “I understand their behavior has been…upsetting as of late. They were acting like idiots, but that’s no reason to isolate yourself.”

“Haven’t been isolating myself,” she lied, fiddling with a bolt she’d tightened ten minutes ago. “I’ve just had work to do. The Tang needed some maintenance, so I thought I’d get it done now that we weren’t being chased by Marines.”

“Sure. And the fact that Bepo’s been bringing you your meals this past week?”

“Going to the galley would have wasted time. Eating in here was more efficient, and Bepo offered.”

“Why didn’t you ask Skua and Malamute to help?”

“You doubtin’ my abilities as an engineer, Trafalgar?” she asked in a clipped tone, growing sick of tiptoeing around the point. “Whether you like it or not, I know how this ship works better than anyone. If you don’t trust me, tell them to get their asses in here and do it instead!”

There was a deep sigh from above her, and Ikkaku could easily picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows that formed when he was tired and frustrated. “Bepo told me you’re thinking of leaving.”

Ah. The moment of truth. Heart in her throat, she forced her herself to take a deep breath, ready for whatever judgement he saw fit to pass. “You’re the one who said I should if I didn’t like how I was being treated.”

“Are you?”

“Leaving or enjoying how I’m treated?”

“Leaving.”

“…I don’t want to.”

“Good.” It was subtle, but there was an unspoken “I wouldn’t have let you if you’d tried” in his tone. There was another long moment of silence before he continued, “Engineers as skilled as you are hard to come by—finding a replacement would have been a bitch. Plus, the crew would have been upset; they were practically interrogating poor Bepo about why you were avoiding them.”

“And of course you stepped in and played hero, rescuing the helpless Mink from an angry mob?” she snipped, tightening another screw. It didn’t sound like she was getting fired, so it was a little easier to let her natural sass creep back into her voice.

Law let out a faint tch above her. “I wouldn’t say ‘helpless’ considering how he then yelled at me about allegedly firing you. After that, the mob was on his side.”

A proud grin curled the corner of Ikkaku’s mouth. Who would have thought that Bepo would yell at his best friend for little old her? She’d have to come up with a nice thank you gift for her favorite shipmate. With luck, Law might actually apologize for his behavior if even Bepo was calling him out.

Of course, that might take a while, so it was best to keep busy. Reaching out her hand, Ikkaku felt around blindly for her socket wrench. She jerked slightly in surprise when she felt long fingers wrap around her hand before the tool in question was placed firmly in her palm. She pulled her arm back, only to stare wordlessly at the brand-new wrench that practically gleamed in the light.

Clumsily she slid out from under the pipes, jaw dropping as she found Law crouching beside a new, expensive, top-of-the-line tool kit. “I was saving this for your birthday but given the chance that you wouldn’t be around to receive it…” he trailed off, adjusting his hat so the brim cast a shadow over his face.

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled, immediately recognizing the gift for the chrome apology that it was. Plus, it was hard to stay mad at Law when he was like this—honestly, it was so dang cute how awkward he was when forced to display actual human emotions like caring and guilt. “You bribing me to stay, Boss?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She laughed, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. “Then I accept, along with a twenty-percent bonus on my next paycheck.”

He grumbled slightly but didn’t refuse, nor did he pull away from her embrace, even if he stubbornly refused to return it. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t technically said “sorry”. Actions spoke a hell of a lot louder than words with him, anyway, and Law was practically groveling for her to stay.

When she finally let him go, Law stood up and cleared his throat before nonchalantly strolling towards the door. “Well then, since you’re not leaving, unless the engine room is actively on fire and no one but you can put it out, you’re eating with the crew tonight. They’ll formally apologize for their behavior, and they’re all going out of their way to show you how much you’re appreciated. Ermine’s preparing your favorite meal. Clione and Shachi have put together a presentation detailing exactly how stupid they’ve been while Penguin has one extolling your virtues. Malamute and Skua have volunteered to take on your cleaning duties for the next two weeks.”

“What are you going to do?” Ikkaku teased, though he could have said “nothing” and she’d be fine—she knew he’d never make the mistake of discarding her again.

Law stopped at the door and threw his trademark cocky smirk over his shoulder. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll be standing by your side all night to make sure you can’t run off when you realize just how obnoxiously sentimental those idiots can be.”

Ikkaku’s grin fell a bit as she realized he was right—the Hearts were an infamous band of pirates led by a fiendishly dangerous captain, but when it came to their nakama, they could get downright sappy in extreme circumstances. Jude was probably preparing some hippy-dippy song. Cousteau would inevitably name some weird sea creature after her. Seiuchi would probably find a way to scatter confetti all over the galley and she’d be picking it out of her hair for days…

Getting up, she chased after her devious captain. “I don’t suppose there’s still time for me to quit and join the Kuja, is there?”

Gold eyes glinted sadistically at her as Law replied, “Nope. Welcome to Appreciation Hell. Population: you. Don’t try to run, either—I’ll Shambles your ass into the galley if I have to.”

Ikkaku punched his arm in retaliation, though she was careful not to hit him too hard—if she annoyed him too much, he’d go out of his way to rile the guys up even more. God, he’d probably propose they all get tattoos of her face or something just to make her suffer.

“You’re an absolute bastard,” she said, affection creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

“Yes, but a bastard that appreciates his engineer,” Law replied, and out of the corner of her eye, Ikkaku could have sworn she saw the barest hint of a genuine smile flicker across his face.

Despite the knowledge that she’d be stuck with a crew of idiots and a captain who had the emotional range of a teaspoon and a truly frightening sense of humor, Ikkaku felt happier than she had in weeks as she playfully knocked her shoulder into his. “I guess that’s not so bad, then.”

The End

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 51

~*~Sebastian~*~

I love stupid drinking games. One of the reasons Marvel press is fun is because of the dirt we have on each other from drunken nights and hours of waiting. Both result in otherwise inappropriate questions. This was just an organized version. When Boone said you never had fun with who you were sitting next to, I started counting people between and wrote a dare to make out with the person three people to your right.

Eli went first because it was his invention. Plus, since everyone did the never have I ever and could jump in with the truths, and the point wasn't to win, it didn't matter who went first. Straight in he pulls out, "Never have I ever had a threesome."

Me, Boone, Eli, and Alissa drink. I didn't know about Alissa. Will didn't drink, but he did laugh, "Bunch of whores."

Alissa shrugged, "Everyone experiments."

Kirk looked at her, "Not everyone. About half."

Emma was next, "Last movie that made you cry? Easy A Star is Born. I cried twice during. Sat threw the credits crying. Then absolutely sobbed in my car for another ten. Then went to see it again the next day and cried just as much."

Everyone shared theirs. Mine had been a month ago when ET was on late-night TV.

Alissa got two squares, so she got a question and a dare. Angry sex or makeup sex. Me, Eli, Kirk, Boone, and Emma were in for the angry sex. Alissa had to take off her bra and hang it from a light.

Boone had to share his worst sexual experience. That led to some funny shit. Eli had a woman throw up on his dick. He claimed the tour bus gave her motion sickness. Emma's was a guy who said his own name when he came. Mine was in the back seat of a car, missing a stroke when the cop banged on the window and thinking I’d broke my dick.

Angie pulled, "Never have I ever sent nudes." All of us drank. Will's truth was his virginity story. Kirk's ended in tears, but he wasn’t the one who cried.

I got a double color. Least favorite sex position and why. Sixty-nine because I can’t fully enjoy either and I wind up focusing more on my blow job and do a shitty job taking care of her. Emma's was reverse cowgirl because there's a problem with angle of entry and an unflattering view of her ass.

"There is no unflattering view of your ass." That just popped out.

Angie agreed with Emma, "She's right. Because in reverse cowgirl your ass is going to connect with his body and jiggle. Gravity works much better to smooth things out in doggy style."

Will smiled, "The jiggle is a feature, not a bug. But I do agree with the dangerous angles." All the straight men cringed.

My dare was to switch places with either person beside me, have the next person sit on my lap, with my hand on their inner thigh until my next turn. I ended up feeling up Angie in my lap. If I’d gone the other direction, I’d have Eli in my lap. My way was better.

Kirk read, "Never have I ever had phone sex."

Emma didn't drink, but she did glare at the woman in my lap. I raised an eyebrow, "Opposed or opportunity?"

She smiled as she said, "Opportunity."

I hummed, "You'll be in Georgia and I'll be in Canada next Sunday."

"I know."

"A lot of distance."

I started to say something about getting to be the teacher, but Angie swatted me and pointed a finger at Emma, "Any erection he gets is going to poke me in the ass, so stop what you’re doing."

You get the idea. Conversations about sex, preferences, and dislikes. Some basic shit with movies and music. Some good questions, so not so much. I learned Emma loves lazy morning sex, but not lazy evening sex. She learned I like it when she takes my hand because that's her wanting the contact. Everyone had to answer how many times they had sex in the last week. That wasn't fair. Not because I'm embarrassed by the number, but because it’s a lot to remember. I said, "Seven?"  Emma pointed up. "Eight?" She nodded.

Angie and Alissa exchanged a look, "No wonder her parts we still tingling the day after he left."

Will got a dare to explain in detail his last sexual experience, pick someone else to share, and then everyone had to vote. Wonder who he was going to pick? I prepared myself. Will and Alissa had a perfectly acceptable Thursday night with three position changes. She orgasmed during position two, switching to three to finish him. He told a good story that made his wife blush. He finished and looked at me. What did I say? I knew he’d picked me. Only he didn’t. He pointed to Emma.

Emma threaded her fingers together, turned her hands out, and cracked her knuckles.

What followed was a rather detailed accounting of our shower this morning. The physical part anyway. With just the physical description I realized just how much we talk during sex. I was filling that part in as she wove the story. Specifically, her asking if she should finish me and how her question nearly did. She didn’t share that part and her eyes darting to mine gave me a thrill.

As soon as she stopped talking everyone pointed at her, including Will. He nodded in my direction, “He alludes to a four-letter word starting with “W” and you’re blushing, but not one hint of pink from the erotic shower story?”

She took a sip of her drink, “I don’t like to lose.”

Angie raised her hand, “How did you not fall over? Showers are so slippery.”

Emma stood up and put her foot on the futon, “Tiled bench on the wall and a cut out shelf to hold onto to.”

I saw her put her hand on Eli’s shoulder and covered my face with my hands, “Somebody make her sit down.” I shook my head, “So fucking thankful Angie isn’t in my lap anymore.”

I heard Kirk laugh, “I think she’ll do fine with phone sex, Seb.”

His words got my attention. I dropped my hands, “Oh shit!”

A perfectly innocent question, “What’s your favorite thing about your birthday?”, took a turn. Angie had answered buying her favorite cupcake and two new ones from a bakery close to her school. Emma answered how it was her guilt-free day to be pampered and do whatever she wanted. Will smirked, “Birthday sex.”

Heads nodded with agreement. I shook my head, “Birthday sex means anal.”

Everyone laughed and Will shoved me. Hard.

Alissa crossed her arms over her chest, “Do not even act like that’s the only day you get it.”

Eli snorted, “I never get birthday sex.”

“You’re not getting non-birthday sex tonight either.” Beside me, Angie crossed her arms over her chest too.

I half expected Emma to cross her arms in solidarity.  I was struck with a drunken laughing fit. Others joined in.

Eli was not one of them, “How’s your birthday, Seb?”

“My birthday is in August.” See how I dodged the question.

Kirk started laughing so hard I thought he might piss himself. “Eli never gets birthday sex. Will has bonus birthday sex. I have lots of birthday sex.” He looked at me and pouted, “And poor Seb doesn’t know what he gets for his birthday.” He let out a very loud snort, “Straight people and anal.”

Emma pulled, “Pick a stripper or lap dance song.” I was fascinated by the way her eyes shifted from up and left to up and right and the way she chewed on her lip as she thought. She was thinking hard.

Eli elbowed her, “It’s not that hard of a question, Emeliana.”

She flipped him off, “Don’t Let Go, En Vogue.”

I have no idea what anyone else said. I was too busy finding the song on Spotify and creating a playlist. Will elbowed me. I looked up to see everyone looking at me. “Oh, not doing either. Naked is fine. Naked and dancing . . . nope. Too many body issues for that.”

Eli looked at me strangely, “Damn, if you’ve got body issues the rest of us are fucked.”

Emma smacked the back of his head, “You damn well know that outside and inside don’t necessarily match.”

He rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry. Fuck, that hurt.”

My text alert went off. It was from Will, who was sitting next to me. “Keep her.”

The questions and stories went on. The “game” ended when Eli reached the Candy Castle after skipping a big chunk of the board going through some sort of wormhole involving dots on spaces. I think he made it up.

We all did a celebratory shot and Emma pulled Angie off the couch, dropping down next to me. Alissa squished in between Emma and Will, so when we put our arms around the women, we brushed hands. Us, being us, we held hands for a few minutes. Long enough for Angie to take a picture and text it to Emma and Alissa.

I don’t even know how long we sat talking and sharing laughter. It was a good night. The kind of night you want to remember and never want to end. I would have never imagined a guy who’d dressed me over ten years ago on a TV show would be part of a couple who bridged my world and the world of a woman I met in a grocery store. A woman I adored more every day.

Everyone seemed to decide the party was over at the same time. We shared an Uber with Will and Alissa back over the Williamsburg bridge, dropping us off first. Inside the elevator Emma attacked me. Damn woman lacks self-control. I was going to wait until we got into my apartment. Instead, I found myself trapped in the corner, a hand on the back of my neck and one on my crotch. Sloppy, sloppy kisses were a preview of what was sure to be equally sloppy sex. We zig-zagged down the hall, fell through the door, and started shedding clothes on the way to my bedroom. She pushed me onto the bed and we fought with my jeans, laughing the whole time. Finally, we figured out my shoes had to come off first. I slapped at the nightstand drawer a few times before finding the handle and managed to get the condom on. Emma had much better luck with her shorts. I’d already pulled the drawstring on our way, so I gave her a head start. She straddled my hips and sank down on me.

I groaned loudly, “You feel so fucking good.”

Emma’s fingers pressed into my stomach, “You too.”

I used my thumb on her clit while she rode me. At least, I think I did. I was in the general vicinity. Precision with fine motor skills is one of the first things that go for me. I tried. It felt good, but I wasn’t getting any closer to an orgasm. I held onto her hips and rolled us over. Luckily, it only took two or three strokes to realize I wasn’t inside her anymore. We laughed as I got us back on track. A lot of groping and messy kisses later I pulled out and rolled onto my back. I looked over at her, “This isn’t gonna happen for me.”

She convulsed with a laugh, “Me either.”

While we laughed, I took her hand and held it against my stomach. “I don’t think you’re a real couple until you’ve had a sex failure.”

“And I have no confetti to throw.”  That started us laughing again. “Hey, your dick’s not broken and nobody yelled their own name, well, any name.”

“It could be worse.” I let go of her hand, lifting my arm for her to cuddle up. “Let’s go to sleep and forget this ever happened.”

“Not a chance.” She kissed my chest.

I pulled my head back and glared at her, “I don’t like you anymore.”

Emma kissed me very softly, “Yes, you do.”

I smiled, “Yeah, I do.”

~*~*~

About seven I sprang up in bed finding it hard to breathe. Night terror. Emma was sleeping soundly and I didn’t want to wake her. I picked my underwear off the floor and went to the other room. I sat in my favorite chair, focusing on my breathing to pull myself out of this. The racing heart and hyperventilating had me feeling dizzy and with numb extremities. Middle of the night panic is the worst. If I’m awake I can usually catch it quickly and do what I need to manage. In the middle of the night, I’m a couple of steps behind. Takes a little longer to calm down. When I left the calm place I visualize and opened my eyes I was better. The panic had passed as it always does. It would take a little while for the adrenaline to metabolize. I padded quietly to the bathroom, not wanting her to wake up and see me like this, to brush my teeth and wipe away the sweat. Back to the kitchen, I grabbed the biggest bottle of water I had. My journal was in the office. I swung by for it before heading back to my chair. My rule for this is to just write. Thinking or trying to figure out what was going on never worked. I would look back later, but for right now it was just stream of consciousness.

I heard Emma in the bathroom about an hour later. Putting my journal on the coffee table, I turned in the chair to be able to see her. When I’d gone to the bathroom, I’d moved our discarded clothes to the bedroom. She must have found them because she was in my shirt. Talk about something to put an instant smile on my face. I reached out a hand for her, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” Emma took my hand, letting me lead her to sit on my lap. She pressed her lips to mine before laying her head on my shoulder. “I missed your warmth.”

Kissing her head, I hugged her closer and made an instant decision to tell her. “I’ve been up for a while. Had a night terror. Fucking hate waking up in that panic.” Now, as I say it aloud, I realize even more than the panic, I hate feeling weak and out of control.

Emma lifted her head, her green eyes meeting mine with soft concern. She ran her fingers from my temple, around my ear, down my neck, over my beard, and finally to rest on my chest. “What do you need to take care of you?”

I smiled and kissed her. Fuck. I should have woken her up because the last ten seconds had done more to calm me than everything I’d done in the last hour. “I’m ok. Meditated, water, journaling.” I pointed to my journal.

“Any luck identifying the trigger?”

I shook my head, “Na, just wrote. I see my therapist on Thursday. She’ll tell me.”

She laughed, “Will she? Mine won’t tell me anything.” She imitated a voice I didn’t know, “I’m here to help you find your answers, not give you mine.”

“Good point.” I kissed the bare slope of shoulder not covered by my shirt.

“It’s been years, but I remember the after felt like bugs crawling through my veins. And the shaking.”

I held out my hand, watching the slightest tremor, “Not so bad.” Her fingers laced with mine, steadying more than my hand.

“Why don’t you go for a run and burn it off?”

“Thought about it, but didn’t want you to wake up to a note and think something was wrong. Too much to write out.” The thought of her thinking this had anything to do with her was enough to get my heart racing again.

“If there’s a next time, I’ll know.”

I like that she didn’t automatically tell me she wouldn’t have wondered.

Before I could voice my thought, her hand was on my face and she kissed me, “Seriously, Bastien, go for a run.” She nodded toward the door.

“And leave you here?”

“I will be right here when you get back.”

There’s a comforting thought. “Ok.” A run sounded good. Usually, I’d head to the gym early and hit something cardio and I’d be back to normal before the rest of the guys got there. She stood up and took my spot when I went to put on some clothes. I pulled my running shoes out of the closet and sat on the couch to tie them. “I won’t be too long.”

“Take as long as you need. I’ll shower. Maybe switch around some of your drawers and cabinets.”

“Sounds good, enjoy yourself.  Still want me to show you around today?”

“Absolutely.” She put her hand over her stomach, “You’re going to have to feed me.”

“I can do that.” I kissed her and headed out the door.

I put in my earbuds, cranked up the music, and just ran.

[divine-noire]

Mononucleosis Awareness Post

So I caught Mono participating in Hot Girl Summer™ (jk jk lmao) but I did get Mono, and this shit is not a fucking joke. If you feel like you might have it, please go to the doctor. Over the past 4 weeks, I have been going through literal medical hell from complications. I’m gonna list the symptoms I’ve had and if you feel like you might have it, go get looked at. I thought Mono was something only horny ass teens got in high school playing spin the bottle, I’m 26 (27 next month) and was NOT expecting this shit at all.

Fatigue

My first symptom that something was wrong was fatigue. This is not normal, everyday fatigue. This is actually waking up and feeling like the world is ending when you take your first step, fatigue. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. While driving, I put my emergency break on at red lights because I was afraid I would fall asleep while at the standstill. At work, if there were no calls, my head was down (luckily, my boss is only here twice a week so I could get away with this). At home, I was in bed by 6PM and when you do sleep, it’s immediate. There is no gradual lulling off to sleep. It’s face-meet-pillow-meet-morning-alarm type of sleep. But I was still tired no matter how much I slept so I started using No Doze to counteract the effects. At first, it was fine, but even then, I still had the underlying fatigue. It got so bad, I drove over a friend’s house in Greenbelt, MD which is about an hour and a half away with rush hour traffic, using every bit of energy I had in my body to get to her, because she said she would take care of me, which she did. But by the time I pulled up to her house, I basically almost fell out of the driver side door when she opened it for me. That is not an exaggeration, that is the level of exhaustion I felt from just driving that far without sleeping. We thought I had the flu or something flu-like, so she gave me fluids and alot of Day & NightQuil. It made the symptoms lessen, but it never made them go away.

Sore Throat

At the beginning, my throat merely felt scratchy. This lasted for about 3 days, before I knew it, my voice was gone and my throat was in so much pain I gave up talking. The pain is not akin to Strep Throat, if you’ve had that before. It is actually worse. My throat was swollen as a symptom of the virus, but it graduated into its own infection of severe Tonsillitis. It was so severe that I actually began having trouble swallowing from the amount of swelling that it caused. I had to receive a steroid injection in my butt to counteract the swelling and start methylprednisone (which wasn’t strong enough and I had to go back for regular prednisone 20mg). I couldn’t eat anything without pain, so I stuck to drinking a lot of fluids and ice water. Ice water became my guardian angel because my throat was in a constant state of burning pain. I also grew exodus on the back of my throat, past my tonsils, as a result of the infection in my throat, and had to gargle salt water like crazy everyday to get them out. The exodus hurts, it is hard and feels like cement on the back of your throat and it makes the Tonsillitis 10x worse than it already is. I didn’t have a voice at all for 12 days, I had to use a dry erase board for all interactions (it’s quicker than typing on my phone.) 

Nausea

Now my case may be different because the doctors keep telling me my nausea shouldn’t have gone on as long as it did and that I need to go see a Gastroenterologist ASAP but that’s a different story for a different post. Nausea was my worst and most persistent symptom to date. The kind of nausea you may feel will be persistent. I woke up nauseous to the point of my mouth salivating as though I were about to vomit everyday for about 2-2.5 weeks. This never settled. There was never a time my mouth was not salivating, I had to begin keeping paper cups at my desk to spit the residual saliva into throughout the day because it never subsided. One day, I had a salad for lunch from Panera even though I wasn’t hungry, I knew I should try to eat something. (By this time, my throat had made some progress and I could swallow some whole things.) I immediately regretted that decision when I lay in bed at midnight holding my stomach like the world was ending. I was so nauseous that I couldn’t get myself together enough to even get out of bed. The thing that makes the nausea symptom so bad (for me) is that it never made be actually vomit, it just created the sensation of needing to. Eventually, I broke down and stuck a straw down my throat just to alleviate the symptom a bit and threw up the salad, and it didn’t even look like it’d been digested properly. That made the nausea go away for the night, and after that I gave up eating anything solid hoping that would prevent any future nausea, spoiler alert: I was wrong. My salivating mouth picked up right where it left off, it was as though all I went through the night before didn’t even matter. My stomach was empty and still nauseated. That night, the nausea was so bad that I just knew something was off and I drove myself to the ER (Note: I drive myself to the ER that is less than 10-minutes away all the time to save money on an ambulance, if you feel you are not safe to drive, dial 911, it is better to just pay the ambulance than cause an accident and make your situation worse than it already is.). When I got there, I was beyond exhausted, nauseous, dizzy, I just felt like I was dying. The doctor brought me back, took my vitals, asked the usual questions. I told him about the nausea, the Mono diagnosis, he said he wanted me to get a temporary room while he ran some tests. I got a room and a nurse came in and gave me a shot of Zofran for the nausea that did absolutely nothing. It was so bad that when he came back in, I asked for Ipecac or a straw to induce vomiting again. Alarmed, he said they wanted to avoid me vomiting and gave me an additional shot of Zofran. That helped that time, but I still just felt overall terrible. The doctor came in later and told me my potassium levels were extremely low, explaining the extreme fatigue and dizziness, that my liver was swollen from the Mono, and that the nausea was alarming and he would be admitting me for treatment. I was shocked that this virus had done such a number on me. My throat had even worsened and was now even more swollen and painful than it was before (I hadn’t gotten the 20mg prednisone script yet.). I spent 2 days with an IV in my arm, eating mushy foods and sleeping in the hospital. I had to take off work because I was in no shape to even drive there, let alone get anything done. After the 2 days went by, I actually felt back to my normal self! I was so fucking happy to exist and not feel like dying after weeks of wanting to that I went home and started cleaning my room. I had let it get atrocious from not feeling well or feeling like doing anything besides sleeping. Shortly after I began, the fatigue kicked in, the only symptom to never leave, and I sat my ass down and watched Rick & Morty with Sebastia and went to sleep instead, which was probably the safer bet. Fast forward 8 nausea-free days, and guess what’s back??? It’s tolerable now, but still an extreme nuisance. I get my Zofran prescription and it does didly fucking squat to alleviate the nausea. I call the Urgent Care that diagnosed me and ask if there’s anything stronger for nausea and they tell me all the stronger shit will have me bedbound and loopy. Bills gotta get paid so we can’t have that. So that night, in a moment of nauseous desperation, I took double the dosage of the Zofran to alleviate the discomfort. Now, I understand I shouldn’t have done this, but I was DESPERATE and afterward, I felt great. It was the first time the medicine had done wtf the doctors said it would do and the way it was supposed to: quick, fast and in a motherfucking sprint. So I stupidly called the Urgent Care to ask them about the nausea medicine again (I have such a good relationship with this UC for some reason, probably because I hate my primary.) and told them what I’d done the night before and that I was now out of nausea meds and needed a refill before it came back, which was all true. Jessica, the nurse I always saw, was alarmed and spoke to the doctor on duty there, and told them about what I did. Then they cut me off and said to go ask my Primary for the refill because I’ve been utilizing them way too much (long story short). But she also said that I shouldn’t need that much Zofran and something else is going on and I need to be seen by a Gastro. That $40 co-pay appointment is still pending. Andddd I’ve been nausea-free for about a week now, but as I type this, my mouth just began salivating so it looks like I’m gonna be dealing with that again soon. Fuck.

Dizziness

My dizziness didn’t come full force until about 4 days ago (Week 4). I was out at a shopping center getting groceries and while I was parking at a nearby Dunkin Donuts, the world legit started slanting. I felt like I’d been drugged all of a sudden. My skin felt cold and clammy, everything felt out of focus and I immediately needed to lie down. Luckily, it came right after I’d put my car in park and had the opportunity to put my seat back and do so. I waited about 10 minutes maybe, and then I felt ok enough to get out and go get some food because I thought I was just hungry because I hadn’t eaten yet. Even standing in line and waiting for the food afterward was difficult. I had to sit down or else I’d fall down. I got back in my car and ate and laid down again, went back to the store to get eggs I forgot to grab before, and on the walk back to my car almost walked into another parked car. Of course, people saw and probably thought I was drunk or something. I was embarrassed but didn’t have the motor skills energy to explain the situation of feeling like I was in 2 bodies at once. This symptom has come and gone as it pleases, but luckily after a good 2-hour nap that day when I got home, I felt alot better. 

Poor Appetite

While battling this virus, I have lost 10 pounds and still counting in the past 4 weeks. While it’s great to fit into clothes I was once too thick to get past my thighs, it is not the way I wanted to lose the weight. In the beginning, I always felt full no matter what, which made me not want to eat, combined with the nausea, it made eating something I just wasn’t in the mood to ever do. This went on for weeks, which caused the weight loss. I learned later that my swollen liver pressing against my stomach is what caused the sensation of fullness, hence, not ever feeling like I should eat. Now, my appetite has returned, and I’ve been eating nothing but starchy, fatty nonsense my diet never would’ve allowed before I got sick. And even with all the newfound calories I’ve been non-stop digesting (seriously guys, pizza 5 days straight, bread bowls, bacon egg and cheese croissants, cheesecake, donuts...) I’m still shedding pounds. My Gold’s Gym Membership is gathering dust because I can’t go workout with my body still always in fatigue-mode and it’s probably just not kosher to do with this kind of virus. My mom said I should celebrate for now until it becomes a cause for concern later, but I think I should probably be concerned now since the earlier you find something out the better health-wise. I lowkey did some research and think I might have Hepatitis-C from the virus, which is curable, but sucks all the same if I’m right. I inherited my mother’s extremely poor immune system, so I really wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll post before and after photos of my weight loss separately, don’t want Tumblr turning me into the Face of Mono™ because of this post. 

Swollen Lymph Nodes

This was one of the lesser symptoms that went away by week 2-2.5. They are definitely sensitive and noticeable. I found that icing them alleviated a lot of the discomfort and made it tolerable, but overall, these were the least of my worries.

If you experience any of these symptoms or think you may have Mono, definitely get yourself checked out. They can do a rapid test at any Urgent Care or ER and let you know during your visit if you have it. This shit is not a joke. I’m still dealing with the symptoms right now and have no inclination of when they will be gone. The literature says anywhere from a few weeks to a year, I’m praying for the initial option but I have no way of knowing for sure. I say all this to say, pay attention to and know your body, guys. You only get one. 

[tracybirds]

And here’s where it ends *sighs happily* Finished up my bonus round Jeff fic for the FAB Five (now Six) Feb (now March) ;D

Prompts by the ever wonderful @gumnut-logic - you’re a star and I used “home”

Consider this a slight AU to 3x26 I guess :)

More from FAB Five Feb: [Alan] | [Gordon] | [Virgil 1] | [Virgil 2] | [John] | [Scott] 

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Jeff had never expected to feel the crushing pressure of the T-drive jump more than once. He felt the rattling deep in his bones, the shock of an acceleration so intense that it snapped something inside him as the fabric of spacetime warped around them.

And then it was over, in an instant, and Jeff gasped for air, his face wet from sudden tears. He tasted iron at the back of his throat.

“Oh shit, Dad,” said Gordon. “Virg, he needs you.”

Virgil stumbled out of his seat with a groan and shook his head. He peered at his Dad with bloodshot eyes and gently tugged his head forward.

“Burst blood vessel,” he muttered. “It looks pretty minor. Any cranial pressure?”

The words were meant only for him, but Jeff saw the five anxious pairs of eyes around him, staring and trying to avoid his gaze all at once.

“I’m okay, son,” said Jeff softly. He wanted to divert their worried looks, wanted to delay the moment where they learnt exactly how much was wrong with him after eight years in space. Virgil though, Virgil had always seen through any attempts at side stepping the truth. He had always given complete honesty and he expected it in return.

“You’re not.”

“I will be.”

Virgil didn’t argue. Jeff glanced sideways out the window into the familiar darkness.

“How long will it be now?”

“We are dropping into orbit,” said John, his eyes fixed on the three dimensional map in front of him. “Alan?”

“Dropping into geostationary orbit now,” confirmed Alan. “Scott, can you double check my flight path for satellites?”

“FAB, Alan.”

Jeff stared at his youngest boy. He was so much more than the little boy he’d left behind, and for all his imaginings as to who his son would become, he’d never pictured the serious and alert young man seated at the controls in front of him. He wondered if that was John’s influence, remembering how Alan had worshipped him as a child, or if his disappearance had had a role in developing that particular personality trait. He hoped his son had chances to play as well as work. But he didn’t know.

Gordon’s drawl interrupted his thoughts and he startled slightly at the intrusion.

“If you’d like to take a gander out of the port window, you might see a sight long forgotten by the men of space.”

Jeff craned his neck to the right, desperate for a glimpse of home.

“Port is left, Dad.”

Jeff grimaced at the reminder. He had known that once, had taken the time to learn all the sailing terminology alongside his second youngest. Now it was just information his brain had edited out, deemed unimportant in comparison to the knowledge that had kept him alive. He tried to ignore the slightly crest-fallen look on Gordon’s face, acutely aware that this could be chalked up as just one more failing on his part when it came to his son. He still heard the old anger in Gordon’s voice, half imagined and half remembered, lingering from the last conversation they’d had before everything changed. There was before, where Gordon was a young, hurt fifteen year old raging against the injustice in the world, and there was after, where Gordon was an unknown quantity. It pained Jeff to realise that when it came to Gordon, he still had no idea where he stood.

“I’m sorry, Gordy,” he said quietly, wishing he could reach out and gather him into his arms again.

Gordon’s voice was thick when he next spoke.

“It’s no big deal, Dad.”

They both knew it was a lie.

Jeff avoided his son’s gaze and leaned forward, peering out the window as a large blue and white sphere came into view. It hung in the sky, motionless above them. Technically, he supposed, it was beneath them. A swell of emotion arose in his chest as he looked out at the planet that was so bright, it hurt to look at after years in the darkness. For years he had stared out at a night sky full of rocks and stars, the sun distinguishable only by its brightness and not its size. Without thinking, he leaned out towards the window, drinking in the sight and pressing himself ever closer to home.

“Hey John, pop quiz! Can you name the planet below?”

“I know what Earth looks like.”

Jeff chuckled and looked back at his sons, appreciating the old joke. John, his second eldest with his head and heart in the stars, newly space rated when he’d vanished from their lives. It was a comfort to know that some things hadn’t changed.

“Well it’s been so long since you’ve visited us, I thought you might be in need of new directions.”

Jeff turned to stare at his son, his ears burning as red as his hair.

“Shut up,” he hissed at Gordon, clearly not wanting that piece of information known yet. John had always been protective over what he felt was his to share, that slight need for control never conquered nor relinquished.

“John, what does he mean?”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the cockpit as everyone turned towards John, waiting for his response.

He faltered under Jeff’s scrutiny, turning with a ramrod straight back away from him.

“Thunderbird Five is my home,” he said quietly. In the silence of the room his voice didn’t need to be loud.

Jeff frowned. He was a trained astronaut and he knew the risks of long term space flight as well as any astronaut. Hell, he had been living them for the last eight years.

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s got gravity now, Dad,” said John, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s not like it used to be. And I have to run comms.”

“Not alone, you don’t,” Jeff argued. “It was never meant to be a solo job, you were meant to have assistance.”

You were meant to have me.

Jeff was startled to hear the slight giggle from Alan’s chair.

“He’s not alone, Dad,” his son said with a grin.

“Alan,” warned John, barely glancing over at him. “We talked about this.”

“Talked about what? You got a partner up there with you?”

John sighed irritably.

“Thunderbird Five is ready to detach and return to her correct orbital position,” he said, ignoring the question in an infuriating manner that Jeff knew John was utterly unaware of. He transferred the map to Gordon’s station and manoeuvred his body towards the door with a practiced ease. The hours logged in space was visible in his every movement – Jeff didn’t think he himself had ever moved so smoothly in the microgravity environment.

Scott quickly unbuckled.

“I’m coming too.”

His eldest pushed himself towards him, and Jeff said nothing as he allowed Scott to manipulate the fastening that held him in his seat. His fine motor skills had weakened over the years and right now, the high intensity of emotion and eight years of neglected health was starting to crash into a shaky exhaustion that he wasn’t sure he could keep hidden.

“Boys?” He held out his arms, unwilling to leave the presence of his younger sons without saying goodbye properly. Not after the last time.

There was no longer the urgency of that first greeting, no longer the desperation and shock and relief that had underpinned the last hug he’d given them. This time, as his arms curled around them, he could take his time infusing the love in his heart into every point of contact. He could feel Alan’s arms around his waist, Gordon and Virgil each clinging to his shoulders. He leaned his head down to rest tiredly on Virgil’s head and counted his many, many blessings.

“Let’s go, Dad,” said Scott, soft and gentle, the tug of his hands a request and not a demand. As they moved together, Scott turned his head back to Virgil.

“We’ll see you down there. Call us if you have trouble with the Hood.”

Gordon snorted.

“He’ll be the one in trouble if he tries.”

“Go,” said Virgil firmly. He shot an exasperated look at Gordon. “I’ll look after this lot.”

Jeff allowed himself to float, the inertia of Scott’s motion pushing him forwards. John was waiting in the hall. He appeared to be in deep conversation with someone, hands flying across a holographic keyboard and peering into a limp looking camera.

The sound of Scott’s feet hitting the wall in front of them echoed throughout the silent station, and Scott shifted, trying to slow Jeff’s motion before he crashed into the wall. The airlock shut behind them.

John looked up, the wary look still in his eyes. He nodded at the camera.

“EOS is back online,” he said quietly to Scott, and before Jeff could wonder at what he meant, he could hear a low humming as the station came to life.

“Good morning John,” called a high voice. “The time is 0840. Was your mission successful?”

“It was.”

The station herself seemed to sigh and Jeff had an sudden notion that whatever computer programme John had installed was far more advanced than the IVA software he remembered from before.

It gave him the creeps.

“Dad, meet EOS,” said John, gesturing up at the camera he had been working with earlier.

“Jeff Tracy.” The voice seemed to come from all around Jeff, and he stared in astonishment.

“Who are you?”

“I am EOS,” replied the voice. The camera shifted slightly, as though glancing back at his son. “My function is to assist International Rescue and its operatives. I understand you to be their founder.”

Jeff blinked, still unsure at what was conversing with him. It seemed to be the voice of Thunderbird Five herself.

“I guess you could say that,” he said weakly.

The camera – EOS? – nodded and trilled a little. Jeff didn’t think he imagined the way the air grew a little warmer.

“John is my founder,” she said before moving closer curiously. “I made myself out of his games and computational code, out of his thoughts and ideas. I found him. And then he found me.”

Scott’s hand gripped tighter on Jeff’s shoulder, instinctively pulling him behind him. The motion would have been unnoticed under normal circumstances. But being held by his eldest son while conversing with an apparently sentient computer on the space station he’d made for his second eldest, following years of isolation on the far reaches of the solar system could hardly be quantified as normal.

EOS drew back immediately.

“I make him nervous,” she said and John frowned.

“Scott, we’ve talked about this.”

“You’ve talked. I’ve reserved judgement.”

Jeff shifted uncomfortably, not liking the tension that had crept up between his two sons. This was clearly an old argument, and a sore point for both of them. There was clearly more to this story than they were willing to share.

“Thank you for meeting me EOS,” he said quietly, trying to smooth over the awkwardness with good manners, the way his mother had taught him. “I appreciate any help you can bring to our organisation.”

The ring of lights flashed green, almost like a sudden smile, and John smiled too. It was a sight Jeff was determined to commit to memory, knowing his memories were all that he had that could never be taken from him.

“Scott, reorient yourself to the floor. We’ll turn the gravity to 0.1G and see how Dad handles that.”

A gentle tug towards what was apparently the floor – a plexiglass material that stretched upwards as the station curved into a circle. A slight jolt, and Jeff felt his body drawn to the floor, an apparent acceleration that he hadn’t felt steadily for a long time. Looking down, he could see the Earth falling away beneath him, the T-drive already a mere speck in the distance.

“You’ve changed her a lot,” he said, looking up at John. “I barely recognise her.”

John flushed.

“When I moved up here more permanently, I made some changes. The glass for one. The computer system for another.”

“EOS,” said Jeff with a nod.

“No, she came later,” said John. “Brains and Virgil designed the gravity ring. Grandma published a paper on the effects of artificial gravity on the human body – all theoretical, of course.”

“My request was a way to make sure he could evacuate to Earth,” said Scott. “Hence the space elevator.”

“A space elevator?” Jeff asked, looking between them and trying to contain his excitement. “I read about those in stories as a kid. You made one?”

“We did,” said John, a reluctant grin pulling at his lips. “It’s an amazing view. Only seats two though.”

John bounced ahead of them in the low gravity, leading his visitors through to the comms room. He reached out and Jeff gasped as the sensors and monitors came to life around them.

They watched John pull up the command system for the space elevator, while also checking through a number of rescue alerts that had been active within the last twenty minutes when Thunderbird Five had dropped back into orbit. His attention was diverted by a sudden call and in fluent Thai, he calmed the woman on the line.

“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it,” said Scott in an undertone to his Dad.

“Yes, he is,” said Jeff, eyes wide at the way John adeptly assured her while prepping an action plan to forward to the GDF.

John glanced back at them and waved them off.

“You’d best get in. Our satellites have been forwarding comms just fine in our absence and I can’t see any issues, but I’d like to coordinate this one before I come down.”

“FAB John,” said Scott. “Call us if you need us.”

“Love you, son,” said Jeff gruffly and John’s hands stilled in front of him.

“Love you too, Dad.”

Jeff smiled at the quiet words, allowing Scott to busy himself with strapping them both in.

“Well, Scooter, it’s you and me.”

A touch of awe still hung in Scott’s eyes whenever he looked at him, and Jeff hadn’t missed the way he kept reaching out with trembling hands to assure himself of his presence.

His gaze softened and he pulled Scott close.

“I’m here now, Scott. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there before.”

At that, Scott’s wide eyes shuttered and his face began to crumple.

“Oh, kiddo,” murmured Jeff, and in the privacy of the cramped elevator, Scott cried in his father’s arms.

“Dad, we thought you were dead,” said Scott hoarsely, when the tears stopped their brutal attack. “You were just gone and I, and I…” Scott hiccoughed and let out a shaky breath. “Dad, I told everyone to stop looking.”

Jeff’s heart clenched at the thought of the responsibility Scott had taken upon himself. He had been forced to make harder calls than any man should have to bear alone. Jeff suspected he hardly knew the half of it.

“It wasn’t your fault, Scott,” said Jeff, his own eyes bright as he saw at the devastation in Scott’s eyes. Looking closer, he could see the signs of age that he’d never known on Scott before, the exhaustion and worry written clearly into the history of his skin.

“I should have done more,” he said stubbornly.

“No, Scott,” he said firmly. “Our responsibility begins and ends with us. You were not responsible for anything that happened to me, the Hood caused all that pain.”

“I still should have known,” he said. More tears slid down his cheeks and he buried his head into Jeff’s chest once more. “I should have known you weren’t dead.”

“Scott,” he said gently. “You had a responsibility to your family. I am so proud of you Scott, so proud. You kept them safe, you kept them alive, and you let them grow. And you can stop now Scott. I’m here, it’s my responsibility again.”

“I don’t know if I can stop,” said Scott. “It’s been so long Dad, so many years of this.”

Jeff was quiet, a deep ache of sadness erupting in his chest.

“We’ll help, Scott,” he said. “Not just me, but all of us. I think you’ve forgotten – we have a responsibility to you too.”

“Now you sound like Virgil,” grumbled Scott. Jeff smothered a grin at the disgruntled expression on his son’s face and made a note to thank Virgil for attempting to rein in his zealous brother. Scott sat back and they startled as the space elevator began to move.

“Was John listening in the whole time?” asked Jeff disconcertedly.

“Probably,” said Scott, glaring up at the ceiling. “He does that sometimes.”

“I do not,” said John’s disembodied voice. “EOS just told me you’d both finally strapped in safely.”

“Exhibit A,” said Scott, with a resigned gesture upwards.

Jeff laughed, startled by a sudden memory of John eavesdropping on his conversations with Lucy, before scurrying off to tell his brothers about the plans they wee making to take them to the aquarium, or the beach, or the museum, or the planetarium.

“He’s always done that,” he said fondly.

“Yeah, but it didn’t matter so much before he got his hands on an array of communication satellites and started living on a supercomputer.”

Jeff grinned broadly.

“Scott?” he said quietly. “It’s so good to be home.”

[adventuresloane]

“Don’t move.” With Carey and Magnus? Platonically of course.

"Hey!"

Carey froze with one foot touching the hardwood floor and another halfway out of the infirmary bed. She felt the familiar sensation of her body going stiff and still as a spring-trap, which is to say the feeling of being caught.

Magnus had his arms crossed and wore the sternest look he could manage, which was not very. "What the fuck did I tell you? Don't move!"

"What are you, a cop?" she shot back, even as she slipped back beneath the covers. "I can walk around with a broken tail, Mags. I'm not paralyzed."

"Hey, I've seen you use your tail to get around all the time! Pretty sure that's why the Director stopped using those hanging ceiling lights--she got sick of you swinging from them to get around the base."

"I can't believe you'd take her side on that, when you know damn well that it's the best way to get around and I look dope doing it."

He snorted out a laugh. "You look like Fantasy Tarzan."

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Do not--ow, fuck!" She spun as she felt the whack of her tail hitting the bedpost and snarled. She hadn't been conscious of the way she'd begun to whip it around in agitation.

Unsurprisingly, the shit-eating grin still graced Magnus's mug when she turned back around to face him. "I told you."

She flopped onto the bed with a huff and grabbed a pillow to smush into her face. "This suuuucks. I'm so bored here and it hurts like a bitch. And it's not just because I keep moving it! It hurt like this before."

He gave her the cocked-headed look of a curious dog. "Hold up. Carey," he started, "have you never broken a bone before?"

"Not since I was a little kid. And even then it was just once." She shrugged. "You know how I feel about taking the big hits, bud. Besides, since I got so good at doing rad stunts, I haven't even had a bad ankle sprain in years. And that shit's nothing like this."

He let out his too-loud laugh, the kind that filled up every corner of the room like heat from a fireplace. "Well, you're looking at the guy who broke his femur in the same place four times, so you're in luck!"

"Maggie, sometimes I worry about you."

"Here, want me to change your bandages? You got a pretty nasty wound on top of that break, right?"

"Can you do that? Like, Merle will let you?"

"Ah, he'll be fine with it." He began to pull out fresh gauze and wet it with some sort of topical potion. For how thick his fingers were, the way he unrolled the bandages was quick and almost delicate. He had the steady and nimble hand of a woodcarver, sure, but there was something practiced about it too. "I've patched myself up enough times to know what to do. Anyway, Merle's taught me some himself, just like he learned how to throw a good punch from me once. We all picked up on each other's skills some, back on the ship."

Carey ran her tongue over the scales that covered her lips. By now, she knew enough not to ask about which ship he meant. She knew only two things in that regard: first, that he didn't seem to know the first thing about sailing despite how often he referenced his time spent on a ship, and second, that any further prompting about the ship would be equivalent to a sucker-punch. It left him stunned and reeling and bloodless in the face every time, blinking like there was a film in front of his eyes that he couldn't quite clear. Left him stammering like a broken motor, a dozen false starts at speaking. Sometimes she worried about him. Maybe he had taken too many blows to the head over time. Maybe he had taken some blows to the mind, too, though she wasn't about to go near that shit. It was his to tell, not hers to ask for.

In this case, anyway, he didn't seem to notice that he'd even brought it up. Before he could think about it, she asked, "Magnus, how many bones have you broken?"

"Pfft! Come on, I lost count back when I was a teenager."

"Okay, well, what's the most batshit way you've ever broken a bone?"

"Hmm..." He ran his thumb and forefinger over the patch of red-brown beard on his chin. Then, his look changed from thoughtful to smug as the corners of his mouth lifted and he glanced back her way. "You really wanna know?"

"Don't fuck with me! Of course I do!"

He turned to face her, while she concentrated on not lashing her tail in anticipation. "So where I grew up, there's all these hills surrounding the valley, right? And of course, when we got our heaps of snow up there every year, all the kids would go sledding every day. Well, let's just say when I was all of maybe sixteen, I had a lot of friends who were just as full of piss and vinegar as me. We decide we're bored of just sledding on powder. So of course, we're gonna go out and build a ramp that's just pure, frictionless ice, all the way down the hillside, and that's what we're gonna sled on."

"Fantasy Jesus Christ, Mags, of course you would."

"Right? So one of my friends, she's got this wicked fire magic, and she starts melting the snow on the hill so the water will refreeze as ice--"

"Hold up, you had a super fire magician as a friend when you were that young?"

She knew she'd fucked up the second after she said it. It took only a moment more before he shed his smile and seemed to draw back as if from a slap. He blinks, a lot.

"Mango?"

"I, it's...I..." He knitted his brow, and the lines in his forehead simply kept multiplying. "I thought it was--"

"Hey, buddy? Magnus?"

His head snapped up, but he did not turn her way. It was a hopeful sign nevertheless. He had not turned so far into himself that she could not reach in and feel for him.

"Hey, look at me for a sec." She waited until he did. "You don't have to tell me, okay? You don't have to explain anything."

"But..."

"Nah, listen. Past is past. I'm not entitled to it just because I'm your friend. I am no matter what."

"Yeah. Yeah okay."

"You okay, then? Moving on?"

"Moving on."

"Now let me tell you about all the shit I'm going to do after I'm out of this infirmary."

((Thank u I'm lov them. Also apologies if the format is weird. I'm on mobile.))

[starl1ght-child]

Enthralled

Rezyl Azzir x F!Non-Guardian OC

Chapter 4 : Heroes [ WC 1.7K ] 

masterlist

Rilea woke up in the infirmary a week after the battle.  Her muscles were stiff so she didn’t move at first, but she eventually found the strength to sit up.  Her shoulder was bandaged up and her arm was in a sling.  She reached up to touch her face and felt tiny bandages over some cuts around her eye.  She squinted at the bright lighting in the room and looked around.  There were other citizens in beds adjacent to her, some of which had injuries much worse than her own.  

“You’re awake!”

She looked over to the voice and saw Jasper walking into the tent, hands balancing two rationed meals.  “Jasper,” she sighed.  

“You should be resting,” he chided as he sat down in the chair next to her bed.  “You’re way too reckless, Rilea, you had me worried sick.  Didn’t know if you were gonna wake up.”

“What day is it?”  She asked as she rubbed the weariness from her eyes.   “How long was I out?”

“Eight days.”  Jasper’s scolding stopped and was replaced by concern.  “You really had me worried, Ri, when you didn’t come back.  Then I heard you were injured and on the brink.   You should have let me go with you.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  Thought I could handle it.”

“But there are a lot of people alive because of you.  Regardless of what anyone says, there are a lot of people who told me about what you did for them.  A lot of people who thanked me because of what you did.”

Rilea ran her hand through her hair before pressing a hand to her injured shoulder.  Feeling in her muscles had returned, at least, and she flexed her hand before starting to tap her fingers to her thumb.  Motor function was restored to her hand at least, so there wasn’t any permanent damage.

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“They told me about your injury, but that’s about it.  I wanna hear your version.”

Jasper helped her adjust the bed so she could sit upright against the pillows.  She stared quietly at the monitors she was hooked up to before she found it in her to recount what happened.

“I found everyone that I could, Jasp.  I told them where to go, where help was waiting.  Then I set myself up behind the front line, picking off any stragglers that broke through so that people had a better chance of making it to you alive,”  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, trying not to get overwhelmed.  “I guess I just got detected by those things—”

“Fallen,” Jasper said quietly.  “They’re calling them the Fallen.”

“—whatever, the Fallen.  Three of them rushed me and I managed to down two of them, but before I could make it back to cover, one of them shot at me, another knocked me back, and a third…”  She closed her eyes tightly as she pressed a hand to her shoulder, the phantom of pain making her nerves erupt.  “A third stunned me, flipped me on my back, and stabbed me in the shoulder.”  She looked over at Jasper and she could see the sorrow on his face.  She didn’t realize she had started crying.  “I tried to kick it off of me and pull the blade out, but Jasp, it was just so damn strong.”  She leaned back against the pillows and wiped furiously at her eyes.  “And then he saved me.”

“Who saved you?”  This seemed to pique Jasper’s interest.

“That… that Guardian.  Maker, what’s his name?  Rezyl, I think?  The—The Titan that united everyone right before the Fallen arrived.”

Jasper huffed as he leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful.  “He’s been named the Last City’s hero,”  he relayed.  “Everyone here seems to think of him as some kind of god because of what he did.  People like you, people who actually made a difference, they’re all just getting lost in the background.”

Rilea chuckled to herself.  “I’m okay with that,” she sighed.  “Give the fame to a familiar face.  Someone people can look up to.”  She looked over at Jasper to see him staring at her, eyebrows raised.  “What?  You know I’ve always hated the spotlight.”

Jasper shook his head and sighed.  “Get some rest, maybe eat something, kiddo.  You’ve earned it.”

“Jasp,” Rilea called after him as he went to leave the medical tent.  “Stop calling me ‘kiddo.’”

He laughed heartily.  “Not a chance.”

— — — — — 

A few hours later she was discharged from the infirmary and walked outside into the sunlight, arm still in a sling and still in a bit of pain, but she wanted to get some fresh air and a walk, her muscles ached from being in a bed for so long.  She didn’t get far before she spotted Rezyl.  He was leaning against the rubble of a nearby building, and he caught sight of her, too.  He pushed off the building and approached her, arms hanging loose by his sides.

“Got a minute?”  He asked, she couldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the smooth tone of his voice.  She nodded at him and he joined her on her stroll through the City.

“What could the ‘City’s Hero’ want with me?”  She asked in a teasing tone.  “How long have you been waiting for me to walk out of that medical tent?”

“I heard you woke up today,” he admitted.  “Gotta say, I was really hoping you were gonna pull through.  You were a wreck last I saw you.”

“Well, that tends to happen when you get stabbed.”

“I wanted to—” they both started at the same time, both of them laughing nervously.

“You first,” Rilea insisted.

“I wanted to thank you,”  Rezyl said after a moment of silence.  “You’re brave.  I heard what you did for a lot of the people in this City.  Not many people would risk their lives like you did.”  When she didn’t respond right away and kept her eyes glued to the ground they were walking on, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  “Are you okay?”

“Huh?  O-Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”  She gave him a strained smile.  Maker, she hated compliments.   “Sorry, I’m just not used to getting praise.  Protecting people has always been my duty.”

“‘Your duty’?”

“I was the captain of my home’s guard.  Earned the title when I finished my training at eighteen.”

“Wow,” he whistled and folded his hands behind his back.  “You’re young.”

“So?” Rilea scoffed.

“Who taught you?  I saw you out there before things went to shit, you’ve got some skills that some Guardians don’t even utilize.”

“My father.  He raised me.  He was my whole world.  He taught me marksmanship, hand to hand, self defense, everything I know”.

Rezly gently placed his hand on her shoulder as they came to a courtyard, stopping their stroll and he turned to face her.  “When did he die?”  He asked quietly.

“Three years ago,” she sighed softly.  “The wilds weren’t so kind to him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Silence fell between them as Rilea walked away from him, over to a bench in the courtyard and sat down.  She rubbed her shoulder as pain returned.  Rezyl walked back over to her and knelt down on one knee in front of her, arm resting on his knee as he looked up to catch her gaze.

“You’re wonderful,” he sighed with a smile.  “You know that?”

His words caught her off guard.  Her face flushed as she stared at him with wide eyes.  “Ex-Excuse me?”  She stuttered.

“You’re brave, strong, and humble.  You probably saved more lives that I did that day, and yet you take none of the credit.  What’s your name?”

“Why?”  Her voice got quieter the more and more flustered she got.

“You know my name, you know who I am, and you… you are this hero in the background that no one knows.  But I want to know you.”

Her eyes searched his for answers, but all she could read in his expression was compassion, true joy.  “Rilea,” she sighed.  “Rilea Fey.”

“Rilea…”  The smile on his lips grew brighter and he reached over, clasping her hand in his.  “Rilea, will you help me build this City?  The people need someone like you.  Someone to help everyone adjust to all the changes that are going to come.”

“Why?”  She was so confused by this conversation, but her heart was racing and she felt warmth spread throughout her chest.  Tears budded in the corners of her eyes.  “Why me?  I’m mortal, Rezyl, I only have one life to live.  And look where protecting people has gotten me so far.”  She pulled her hand out of his and pressed it to her shoulder.

“Because you are more selfless and braver than all of the Guardians I know, because you have one life to live.  It’s refreshing.  Can you just promise me one thing?”

She laughed lightly and brushed away some of the tears with her sleeve.  “I suppose,” she said with a smile.

“Stop putting yourself in so much danger.  I won’t always be there to get you out of it.”

She laughed and leaned back on the bench.  “I guess I can do that.  If you can do something for me.”  Rezyl’s smile was contagious and intoxicating as he nodded at her.  “I’ll help you, Rezyl, as long as you can promise me that you’re different from the rest of them.  I’ve seen too many Risen—Iron Lords and Warlords—abusing their Light to trust any of you fully.  Prove to me that you’re different from the rest of them.”

He stood to his feet and cast a brilliant smile her way.  “I really hope that I can.”  He took a few steps away to leave when he suddenly stopped and turned back to her.  “Oh, right, you had something to say, too.  What was it?”

Rilea looked up at him with the smile on her lips.  “Thank you,” she started.  “Thank you for saving my life.  And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad to officially meet you.”

Tag List : @mail-me-a-snail  

Author’s Note : [ y’all I’m making myself fall in love with this man he is a bean but this is before his paranoia sets in ]