#the giant rose on top of the dorm is cracking me up

[unimportant-ramblings]

Wicked Lego sets leaked!!!! Or as I like to call it: "I'll never have money again!"

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The Weather In PJO (brought to you by gods and demigods)

*alternating colors for ease of reading

**page numbers look weird because they're copied/pasted from ebooks

“Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I’d ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We’d had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.” - TLT pg 33

“One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.” - TLT pg 65

“Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. [...] Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten.” - TLT pg 156

“There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded.” - TLT pg 176

“I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn’t dreamed that.” - TLT pg 491

“It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me.” - TLT pg 520

“BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead.” - TLT pg 629

“The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.” - TLT pg 988

“In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades’s fault.” - TLT pg 1191

“I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.” - SOM pg 10

“After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea-an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.” - SOM pg 598

“A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.” - SOM pg 1045

“Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia, and I hadn’t seen each other in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too nervous to talk much.” - TTC pg 11

“Old spirits are protecting the bad boat.”

“The Princess Andromeda?” I said. “Luke’s boat?”

“Yes. They make it hard to find. Protect it from Daddy’s storms. Otherwise he would smash it.” - TTC pg 210

“Clouds seemed to be swirling around its peak, as though the mountain was drawing them in, spinning them like a top. “What’s going on up there? A storm?”

Zoë didn’t answer. I got the feeling she knew exactly what the clouds meant, and she didn’t like it.” - TTC pg 751

“I will do my best to destroy his boat with storms, but he is making alliances with my enemies, the older spirits of the ocean. They will fight to protect him.” - TTC pg 886

“We were standing at the dining pavilion, just where we’d last spoken before I went on the quest. The wind was bitter cold, even with the camp’s magical weather protection. Snow fell lightly against the marble steps. I figured outside the camp borders, there must be a blizzard happening.”- TTC pg 915

“The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled. The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn’t see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn’t give any hint that anything was wrong.

“It’s even worse,” Annabeth said, gazing to the north. “The storms have been bad all year, but that—” - BOTL pg 359

“I had no choice. I called to the sea. I reached inside myself and remembered the waves and the currents, the endless power of the ocean. And I let it loose in one horrible scream.

Afterward, I could never describe what happened. An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power simultaneously catching me up and blasting me downward into the lava. Fire and water collided, superheated steam, and I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion, just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was flying, flying so high Zeus would never have forgiven me, and then beginning to fall, smoke and fire and water streaming from me. I was a comet hurtling toward the earth.” - BOTL pg 618/619

“Mrs. O’Leary howled. I patted her head, trying to comfort her as best I could. The earth rumbled—an earthquake that could probably be felt in every major city across the country—as the ancient Labyrinth collapsed. Somewhere, I hoped, the remains of the Titan’s strike force had been buried.” - BOTL pg 1005

“I remembered what Tyson had told me at the beginning of the summer. “The old sea gods?”

“Indeed. The battle came first to me, Percy. In fact, I cannot stay long. Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense.” - BOTL pg 1066

“Then the entire sea grew dark in front of us, like an inky storm was rolling in. Thunder crackled, which should've been impossible underwater. A huge icy presence was approaching. I sensed a wave of fear roll through the armies below us.” - TLO pg 153

“I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path— ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys. “Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. I couldn't tell which one. Inside the storm I could see the giant—just small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast.” - TLO pg 216-218

“Over the city, a thunderstorm boiled—a wall of absolute black with lightning streaking across the sky. A few blocks away, swarms of emergency vehicles gathered with their lights flashing. A column of dust rose from a mound of rubble, which I realized was a collapsed skyscraper. [...] Wind whipped her hair. The temperature was dropping rapidly, like ten degrees just since I'd been standing there.” - TLO pg 468-470

“She faltered as a mighty groan cut through the sky. A blast of lightning hit the center of the darkness. The entire city shook. The air glowed, and every hair on my body stood up. The blast was so powerful I knew it could only be one thing: Zeus's master bolt. It should have vaporized its target, but the dark cloud only staggered backward. A smoky fist appeared out of the clouds. It smashed another tower, and the whole thing collapsed like children's blocks.

The reporter screamed. People ran through the streets. Emergency lights flashed.” - TLO pg 470-471

“Listen to me!" I said. "Kronos's army is invading Manhattan.'"

"Don't you think we know that?" East asked. "I can feel his boats right now. They're almost across."

"Yep," Hudson agreed. "I got some filthy monsters crossing my waters too."

"So stop them," I said. "Drown them. Sink their boats."

"Why should we?" Hudson grumbled. "So they invade Olympus. What do we care?"

"Because I can pay you.” - TLO pg 654

“Water sprayed his face, stinging his eyes. The wind picked up, and Hyperion staggered backward.

"Percy!" Grover called in amazement. "How are you doing that?"

Doing what? I thought.

Then I looked down, and I realized I was standing in the middle of my own personal hurricane. Clouds of water vapor swirled around me, winds so powerful they buffeted Hyperion and flattened the grass in a twenty-yard radius. Enemy warriors threw javelins at me, but the storm knocked them aside.

"Sweet," I muttered. "But a little more!"

Lightning flickered around me. The clouds darkened and the rain swirled faster. I closed in on Hyperion and blew him off his feet.” - TLO pg 903-904

[apollostears]

LOVE BIRDS [ d. kaminari & e. kirishima ]

↬︎ anime: my hero academia (mha)

↬︎ featuring: kaminari and kirishima

↬︎ warning(s): swearing (ofc) fluff

NOTE. happy valentines day my loves <3 if you don’t have a valentine, then consider me yours!!! these are hcs // scenarios for how kirishima and kaminari would ask you to be their valentines.

*photos not mine*

➝︎ denki kaminari

pls...bless this man fr :(

lets be real, he short circuted at the mere thought of asking you out.

jirou was his first choice in helping romanticize you. that was a lost cause...

momo was second but her way was so out of touch for the kind of person you were.

and finally, mina. third time’s a charm and they were right. after swearing her to secrecy, denki got mina to figure out what were some things you wanted or expected, on valentines day.

he wanted to do something private, not being sure if he could handle rejection in public, and so he settled on yellow tulips, a big ass card, a giant teddy bear, and your favorite food.

valentines day was on a saturday and that was perfect because that usually meant students would go home and see their families, if they had any. your family lived in the states so you never left campus to visit.

it was seven pm when denki approached your room. mans literally waited all mfing day bc that’s how anxious he was to ask you.

you actually ended up running into him on your way back from raiding the kitchen. he was just getting ready to knock on your door when you appeared.

“kaminari?” your voice startling the young teen as he jumped ten feet in the air, loose flower petals falling to the floor in the process.

wait...flower petals? trailing your eyes from the petals on the floor to the bouqet in his hands, they eventually spotted the bag of goodies, ridiculously large bear, and the equally large card leaning against the wall next to your door.

you frowned deeper in more confusion. it never occurred to you that valentines day was today, you were never one to celebrate so it quickly became unimportant to you. was it my birthday? your mind racing a mile a minute to figure out what it was kaminari was trying to do before he could even tell you.

meanwhile, standing dumbstruck with his eyes wide and tight grip on the fragile flowers, kaminari watched you ponder the many reasons as to why he would be standing before you like that. this was not the plan. you weren’t supposed to catch him in the act. now what was he supposed to do?!

shit! get it together dumbass! kaminari cursed at himself internally, taking a deep breath to regain his wits.

thrusting the flowers out roughly, kaminari’s arms shoom with adrenaline. “w-will y-you be-be happy valen-valentines day?” he stuttered pitifully.

poor man had combined ‘happy valentines day’ and ‘will you be my valentines’ in one sentence that he didn’t even realize it. but you did, because you were absolutely fried trying to figure out what it was he was saying. “huh?” you asked dumbly.

not realizing his mistake, kaminari instantly deflated. you thought he was stupid for bothering you, acting like a child. “u-uh sorry to bother you. i-i’ll just leave.” he muttered, embarrassment replacing the adrenaline he previously felt.

snapping out of your own head, you dropped your snacks to grab kaminari by the shoulder in an urgent manner, halting his movements.

“wait! sorry, that’s not what i meant. your words got mixed up so i couldn’t understand what you were saying.” your voice was gentle and soothing, coaxing kaminari into telling you what he actually wanted to say.

face flushed pink, the electric boy turned around sheepishly and resisted the urge to hide his face behind the bouquet of flowers with half its petals on it from all his shaking.

“will you be my valentines?” he asked again, this time more firm and comprehensive.

you were surprised, nonetheless, but extremely happy. you had been secretly pinning over kaminari for the past three months, you never thought it would ever get to this point.

with a smile brighter than the suns, you nodded. “i thought you’d never ask denki.”

a moment that should have been sweet, was slightly ruined when kaminari short circuited from your response. “kaminari!”

➝︎ eijirou kirishima

kiri was your boyfriend of five months when valentines day rolled around.

as hopeless romantics go, he was the biggest one.

you weren’t really surprised when you discovered that kirishima was the type to shamelessly flirt with you as if you guys weren’t dating, while you were dating.

he said it kept the love alive.

which, was true, but you doubted he’d ever let your love die. not on his watch.

soooo you can’t say you weren’t expecting anything on valentines day, but you can say you weren’t expecting what actually happened.

“more ice todoroki!!” kirishima’s voice was loudly heard outside the dorm.

you were walking past the common area to head into the kitchen when you heard him. now what in the sam hill billy sticks is this man doin? you thought to yourself as you made a bowl of cereal. it was a friday and it wss the end of the school day for y’all. it was also valentines day, which you knew because kirishima made it point to let you know that every thirty seconds.

his gift to you started that morning when he gave you five lilacs to signify your five months together. lilacs also meant the first emotions of love which was his way of proclaiming his love for you. *sigh* we love a romantic 😍.

then, during lunch, he had one of your favorite japanese dishes ready for you with your favorite drink. and to top it off, he gave you five roses. following into the last period, kirishima performed a haiykuu to you, accompanied with your favorite snacks + a few beauty products you like and, you guessed it, more flowers; sunflowers this time.

at this point, you were a hundred percent sure this man was to be your husband because there was no way it got any better than this. now, it was close to six in the evening and you hadn’t seen him since the end of school. he said it was to prepare your final surprise and you honestly had no idea what to expect.

your gift for kaminari was simple. a photo album of all your memories with little notes attached to them full of thoughts you had during the moment and then, at the end, a photo you took of him smiling with the note ‘this was the moment i fell in love with you’ and xkkydddrukjhgsdgssqr 😍😍😍. plus a custom made RedRiot™️ shirt with matching sleep shorts you were going to wear during cuddles. his first ever merch. pls, you guys are simps for each other.

“do you think i fucked up the nose?”

“of course you did.”

oka...what the fuck is going on. carrying your bowl of cereal with you, you stepped outside and quiet possibly had a heart attack. why was there a seven feet tall ice sculpture in the middle of the lawn?! what’s more is, why did it look like you?!!

the ceramic bowl clattered to the ground and shattered, gathering the attention of the five men outside as you stared up at yourself in awe. you didn’t have any arms in the sculpture, but fuck did that thing look damn near like you.

“oh shit, princess what are you doing out here? wait! don’t move because i don’t want you to cut yourself.” kirishima panicked, carefully making his way towards you.

“eiji...is this for me?” you asked, your voice cracking as you spoke softly. unaware of your own tears, you look at kirishima expectantly, waiting for a response.

meanwhile, the hero-in-training was stunned. frozen in place at the sound of your voice and tears streaming down your face. did he fuck up? was it too soon? there was only one way to find out.

“y-yeah. well it’s supposed to be. i know it’s not perfect like some artist but—”

in a rush, you stopped kirishima in his tracks and flung your arms around him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. “no! i love it! its perfect! you’re perfect!! thank you baby.”

with a relieved breath, kirishima hugged you back just as tight and nestled his face in your neck, kissing the skin available to him. “uh, hate to break the moment, but l/n your foot is bleeding pretty bad.” midoriya hesitantly interrupted.

abruptly, kirishima pushed you off him to assess your foot. “ah!!! y/n!! i told you to be careful!”

“sorry kiri!!”

*join our taglist:* @pimpnameyannie @supop @knjkitten @sweeneyblue1 @simplyskz-maya @sunrayyellowhalo

[inkperch]

Lady Bird and Magpie, C1D1

I’m in a Lady Bird and Magpie mood, so have a sneak preview of chapter 1! It’s only half finished, gotta write the fight-y parts still and then go back and clean everything up, but here you go! (also, finally figured out how to do Line Breaks!)

Winter Schnee woke up, and immediately wished she hadn’t. It couldn’t be later than seven, her alarm had yet to go off, yet already Kay and Robbie were at each other’s throats, Rose hesitantly trying to mediate. In her half-asleep haze, she vaguely tried to follow, catching a few stray words as she tried to drift back to sleep for a few more moments of plausible deniability regarding her team. Of course, even considering it was massively irresponsible- she was the leader, it was her job to break up such disputes, even if they happened with irritating frequency. And besides, now her alarm was ringing, if nothing else she needed to turn that off.

“What are you two arguing about?”

Kay and Robbie both whirled to face her as she sat up in bed with a stretch, with a guilty smile and an annoyed glare respectively.

“Sorry Win, we just had an… uh… academic dispute?” Kay tried, scratching the back of his head nervously.

For once, Robbie didn’t take the chance to rat him out, simply scowling at everyone and throwing herself onto her top bunk, above Winter’s own. Hopefully, she’d be done sulking by the time classes started, Winter didn’t have the energy for another fight this week. She’d already had to start two, and it was only Thursday. Kay dropped onto his bunk, picking up a discarded book and starting to read as though nothing had happened. Rose looked between her two friends, hesitantly trying to speak before awkwardly meeting Winter’s eyes. Taking that as a cue to leave, Winter grabbed her uniform from the closet and headed into the bathroom to change.

When she was done, instead of lingering in her dorm and finding a way to kill and hour, as her team was no doubt doing, she headed out. The library was only a short walk from their dorms, so if she were quick, she may get some light studying done before class. Maybe she’d even treat herself, and pickup a recreational book for study breaks? She was feeling particularly whimsical today, despite the rough start…

So lost in thought, she nearly didn’t notice the old man crossing her path until it was to late, forcing her to rapidly push herself out of the way with her glyphs, sending her over him in a perfectly executed front flip.

“I’m so sorry sir! I didn’t see you there!” Winter said, head bowed, “What are you doing on Atlas Academy’s campus so early, today? Can I assist you in any way?”

“You’re a polite one, aren’t you?” The man said, a small smile gracing his face, “I’m just going for a stroll. My son attended here in his youth, and… well, I heard there’s a memorial to… former students on the grounds.”

“Oh.” The old man was on the wrong end of campus for the memorial. It was the centrepiece of a garden on the opposite end of the dorms, Winter often went there to study in peace. “I can escort you there, if you wish?”

“Oh, I’d hate to be an inconvenience, I’m sure I’ll make my way there eventually,”

“You’d be no inconvenience, really,” Winter lied, “I owe you besides, for nearly running into you before,”

“No harm no foul, really,” The old man insisted, “But, if you insist… I think I’m a little lost?”

“Yes, very- this way sir.”

-#-

Robyn stood up and stretched as her final teacher of the day dismissed the bored Grimm Studies class. Well, Robyn was bored. Fiona had seemed pretty attentive, despite May and Jo arm wrestling right next to her. Speaking of Fiona- Robyn gave a quiet ‘thanks’ as she scooped all of team RGMT’s books into her Semblance. Robyn waved her team on ahead with a smile and headed off to the library. She had an assignment to complete for her Weapon Maintenance class, on the maintenance of the Atlas Military’s regulation weapons. So, utterly useless to her, but she still needed a passing grade in the class, so to the library it was.

At least, that was the plan- as she was walking across the campus a giant thing seemingly made out of paper charged into campus and started smashing buildings.

Okay. So it was that kinda day.

Like most of the students lurking around campus, Robyn pulled out her crossbow and started blasting. Presumably, some idiot had let a Geist get into the library or something for a dumb prank, its shell seemed to be entirely paper, so Fire Dust was the way to go, right? That seemed the general consensus, as an honestly impressive volley of flaming projectiles flew towards the Geist. Still, somehow, the paper didn’t light, and not one student got a lucky hit on its mask. Wait. Where was its mask? It should be visible- if not when they started, it should’ve whirled to face them by now. Where was the mask?

Why did it seem bigger than when they started?

“I am Payback! Turn over the Schnee and the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous, or die!”

…the courtyard was silent enough you could hear a pin drop. This- this wasn’t a Grimm. It couldn’t be a Grimm- it was talking! Whatever the giant fire-proof-paper monster was, it wasn’t a Geist. It had to be... something else! A semblance, or a robot, or... or some weird experiment! And, just in case that wasn’t enough to fuck someone up, it threw an arm out and sent a wave of fire back into the stunned crowd. So, the giant fuck-off paper monster wasn’t a Grimm and could deflect their shit. Just perfect.

Luckily for the stunned students in range of the attack, a giant glyph appeared and, through it, a massive, white, Nevermore took the brunt the wall of fire, disappearing in one hit. Winter Schnee stood proudly, sword aloft.

“If you want a Schnee, here I am!”

Ok, so, the Schnee heiress has a death wish, good to know. Robyn was about to run forward to help, because of course she was, when an ominous cracking sound came from behind her. Turning around, she saw a tall old man, with a cane just out of his reach, underneath an ominously leaning statue. It looked like it had been hit by a stray spout of fire, knocking it off balance on its pedestal. She dashed forward as the statue came tumbling down- shit, she wouldn’t have time to grab him and leave, this was gonna hurt. She unfurled her weapon into its shield mode and held it above her head, catching the large statue more on her aura than her arms.

“Run!” She yelled, kicking his cane into his reach. Not the most tactful approach but fuck it she had a massive statue on her back, she could apologise when he was safe. The old man grasped his cane and dragged himself from under the statue. As she shoved it to the side with a pulse of her aura, he stared at the Schnee morosely, before turning back to her.

“Miss Hill, was it?” he asked, blue eyes piercingly sharp.

“…yeah? You ok, sir?”

“I was not. I have you to thank for my saving. A humbling experience to be sure.” His hand hovered over his earrings, two plain black studs. “…this experience has reminded me of something a dear friend has been trying to tell me for a long time.”

“Um. Ok.” Robyn nodded, and accepted that random information. The old man was probably slightly in shock, if she’d been a second slower, he’d be a goo right now. “Where can I take you to be safe?”

“No where, if that Akuma isn’t stopped.” He pulled out his earrings, which… changed colour? They turned from plain black studs to bright red gems. That… didn’t look like Dust? His semblance, maybe? “Your semblance… it shows you whether the other party is speaking truthfully, does it not?”

Robyn couldn’t help but feel like she was making a massive mistake as she nodded, and followed his beckoning gesture into the covered garden, casting anxious glances to where the Schnee was fighting. He turned back to face her, hand outstretched. She took it.

“What is your favourite Fairy tale?”

[jadekitty777]

The Miraculous Tales of Luckybug and Qrow Noir

Anyone ready for an onslaught of fics from me for the next week? Because that’s what’s happening my friends.

(I apologize that my blog will also be running on super speed for the next week as I reblog stuff. I also apologize in advance that I won’t have time to read many, if any, fics. My own still need to be edited and finalized. Aaah lil’ stressed honestly).

Day 1: Flirting

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 5600

Ao3 Link: The Miraculous Tales of Luckybug and Qrow Noir

Summary:  In the daytime, he was Clover Ebi. Just a normal college student, with a normal life. But there's something about him no one knows yet. Because he has a secret. A miraculous secret.

(AKA: The Miraculous Ladybug AU no one asked for)

~

“Voici, À Bientôt!”

“Merci beaucoup. Bonne journée!” Clover replied, taking the box from the smiling cashier.

As he stepped out of the bakery into the busy streets of Paris, he gave a sigh of relief. Though he’d been living in France for the past two months now for his Spring Abroad program, he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious every time he had to converse with the locale. His accent wasn’t the best and some words he just couldn’t remember the right inflection for.

Then again, as he got to Green Belt Park and took a seat on one of the empty benches, leaning back to enjoy the stunning view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, he figured being in such a beautiful city was a good excuse to remain speechless.

He set his bookbag down beside him, opening the flap, and then the top of the box, revealing two small slices of cake. “Okay Ruby, you can come out. It’s safe.”

In a flash quicker than lightning, a red streak zipped from his bag and into the box. A moment later, the kwami looked up at him with starry silver eyes and asked, “You got me two?”

He tapped her on the head, right between her antennae. “The strawberry is for you. The other is…”

“For Qrow, right?” As she looked up at him, he decided that the paragon of heroism should not have such a shit-eating grin.

“It’s not-!” He knew his face was getting hot. “We have to work on the sociology project this evening so I thought he’d appreciate it.”

Not fooled for a second, Ruby said between bites of cake, “You should just tell him.”

“I don’t think I should be taking love advice from an immortal being that transcends time.” He craned his head back, watching the thin clouds above drift along the sky. “Besides, it’s not that easy. Qrow is, he’s just so-” He pictured the other man, all dark hair, captivating red eyes, and shy, personal smiles wrapped around a gruff voice that belayed layers of emotion. Clover sighed longingly, “Wonderful.”

Even without eyebrows, Ruby rose one. “Ah-huh. I can see how you’re having trouble.”

He cracked up. It was nice to have her sensible perspective around. He had to wonder how different his life would have been if he never picked up that little black box with the note ‘You’ve been chosen’ left underneath it.

Having come into his life around the same time Qrow had, she’d been privy to a behind-the-scenes look to how his relationship with the other man shifted from strangers to close friends. She was the only one who heard his secret thoughts as that bond grew into intense feelings.

“I really mean it though. It’s always best to be honest with your heart.” The kwami told him.

“I know you’re right. But is it what’s right for Qrow?” At her head tilt, he explained, “He’s got a crush of his own, remember? The one he’s so vague about?”

“Maybe he’s so vague because it’s you?”

He snorted. “Only if he knows I’m Luckybug. He’s got blue eyes, remember?” That was one of the only things he’d been able to pull out of him, besides the gender. Which, after a simple process of elimination, meant it was either Qrow’s best friend Taiyang or James, the leading RA in their dorms back home. Well, or rich and prissy Jacques, but he knew Qrow had better standards than that.

“He could be colorblind to green?” Ruby offered hopefully.

He gave her another pat on the head. “I don’t think it works that way, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

She made a soft noise, before floating up from her bed of crumbs to sit on his shoulder instead. “He hasn’t mentioned this person the entire trip though, right?”

Clover started in surprise. She was right, he hadn’t – which was a huge change from the near weekly aside he’d give about whatever his ‘prince charming’ was up to. “You think it’s fading away?”

“I’m not sure.” She said, looking towards the city’s prized monument. “But I think it might mean this trip could be an opportunity to tell him how you feel. What better place to do that then the city of love?”

He mulled that over. When he found out his university offered abroad studies during junior year, he had been so excited. He’d always wanted to travel, but the prospect of going alone was also nerve-wracking. Qrow, facing much the same enthusiasm and inhibitions, had struck a deal that they would go together. That also meant they had been spending an exorbitant amount of time together, living together in the shared home with a few other students. Shared a room, even.

How many nights had they spent together, just talking about nothing and everything? Mapping out plans over train and bus schedules to fit in as many big sights as they could on their free weekends of tourism? Walked along the Seine at night, the city lights reflecting off the water, where Clover would inadvertently get lost staring at how gorgeous Qrow looked in the casting glow?

Maybe… he could…

“Clover, the sky!”

The sudden alarm in Ruby’s voice had his head jerking upwards. To his horror, the space above the tower was turning black with red lightning streaking across. The telltale sign of Omen at work. But she couldn’t be here!

But sure enough, from the depths of the portal, a large, winged Grimm appeared. It looked like a giant raven, with terribly sharp claws and razor-tipped feathers.

His kwami looked to him, determined. “We need to transform.”

He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending a quick message to Qrow, before stuffing it and the bakery box in his bag. After a cursory glance around, he ducked into the shadow of a tree trunk. “Alright Ruby, charm on!”

The clover-shaped brooch on his chest glowed and Ruby collided with it, and in an instant, he felt his civilian clothes disappear, replaced by a skin-tight, red and polka-dot suit and a mask that covered his eyes. His hair lengthened, his normal, spiked quiff falling into a messier comb over, some of the bangs tickling against his forehead. As the magic of the transition faded, he plucked the yo-yo off his belt and went racing across the park, throwing it at a rooftop, feeling the end latch onto a chimney. With a pull, it retracted and he went flying through the air, landing at the top in one smooth motion. He paused only long enough to leave his bag behind before he went racing along the rooftops towards the emergency.

“I don’t understand. How is Omen here?” Clover asked to no one, feeling panic begin to rise. Did something happen to the team back home? The thought made him sick.

Maria had been very strict about how many miraculous he could put on the field in his absence, not wanting to have another fall into the wrong hands like the Pegasus miraculous had. So, he – or more specifically Luckybug – left Yang the Dragon with Tai and Sun the Monkey with Elm, giving both specific instructions to protect San Francisco in his absence. He’d only called for their assistance a few times before when things got really hectic, so he was hoping Noir would be able to balance the less experienced miraculous users out.

But to think Omen may have defeated all three? That was too awful to imagine.

He looked up at where the bird was circling the tower, dread settling into a hard knot in his gut.

How was he going to do this alone?

~

“Your stinky fish, madame.” Qrow presented the sardines with a flourish.

Blake lit up immediately, diving for the can and fishing one out for herself.

He left the rest of the can on the desk in easy reaching distance, before setting back into his chair where a very blank word document was staring back at him. He gave an agitated huff. He’d been hoping to at least come up with a few research topics for their paper before Clover got back from his lecture in International Affairs. Which was, Qrow mentally reminded with a fond eyeroll, not a required course for the program they were a part of. But Clover just couldn’t help himself, saying it might come in handy for his GPA score as he signed himself up for the class.

Tch, overachiever.

The distinct feeling of being watched sent a shudder down his spine, and he gave the spirit beside him a look.

The cat kwami stared back, unblinking.

“Blake you’re freaking me out again.”

Her ears twitched and she went to fetch another sardine. “I was just waiting for you to get that dreamy look on your face again.”

He flushed. “D-Dreamy?”

“Mmhmm. It kind of looks like,” She gave an exaggerated sigh, placing a paw against her cheek and fluttering her non-existent lashes.

“I never look like that.” He deadpanned.

“Whatever you say.”

“I don’t! And, anyways, what’s it to you?”

She didn’t reply, taking the time to munch into her fish instead.

He sighed, focusing back on his laptop, switching over to the internet to check on the feed from back home. No new reports of any attacks on any of the news blogs. It was like their enemy had decided to take a vacation at the same time he had.

When Qrow had first became Noir, Maria had told him to be very careful with what information he gave, even to other miraculous holders. He intended to vaguely tell Luckybug he would be out. So, it had really been a stroke of luck when Luckybug announced first on their last mission together that a family emergency was going to keep him out of commission for a while – but that he’d left Tatsu and Timber in the wings in case he needed help. So, he never shared his own intentions. Instead, he placed Kali in charge of Weiss the Bee until he returned, knowing that the power team Lucky had left behind would need a more versatile and calculating fighter in their midst.  

(The role he normally filled, he thought with a sense of pride).

He’d been checking on things back at the home front regularly, knowing it only took minutes before social media was trending any new crisis, but it had been unusually quiet. He was sure Lucky was doing the same, wherever he was.

His heart clenched up, thinking about him. They’d been fighting the good fight together for over a year now, and it hadn’t taken much for Qrow to become smitten with the mysterious, masked hero. He’d thought he was everything he ever wanted; strong, daring, ambitious, with a dazzling smile and a baritone voice that was to die for. He was certain their time apart would be torturous.

Yet, it hadn’t been.

They said distance made the heart grow fonder, but it was more like his heart had forgotten. He couldn’t pinpoint when it was exactly that he’d become so preoccupied by Clover. How he’d grown to appreciate his gentle gestures and thoughtful words, his hearty chuckles and sincere expressions. It was as if stepping out of the war woke him from a stupor and gave him a chance to see things he’d missed, even when they were right in front of him.

Qrow sighed, placing his chin in his hand.

“This is my favorite part.”

“Huh?” He looked down at Blake, recognizing that mischievous gleam in her yellow eyes.

“The best story I get to witness is when one of my hosts falls in love.”

“I-I’m not falling in love!” He said immediately. “I have a crush.”

“Really.” It was her turn to deadpan.

He shoved himself away from his desk, offense all over his tone as he echoed, “Yes, really. You know how I feel about Lucky.”

He paced the length of the room, coming to stand by the window, staring down at the busy streets below. A moment later, he felt her weight on his shoulder, almost nonexistent, but there.

Her whisker tickled his neck as she turned her head towards him. “What do you know about Luckybug, really?”

Qrow leaned his arm along the glass, meeting his own reflection’s eyes. “I know he’s smart and funny and he’s always willing to put everything on the line to do what’s right.”

“But what do you know of him specifically? What’s his favorite color? What’s his family like? Does he like anchovies on his pizza?”

He snorted at the last one. “He’s my romantic interest, not yours.” His smile slipped away. “I know what you’re getting at. Unless we reveal who we are to each other, this can’t go any further.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know that. But it still feels wrong, somehow. Are… my feelings that fickle?”

“Not fickle.” She levitated, hovering by his face. “They just had no room to grow. These things have to be nurtured, but if there’s nothing there to care for it, they’re only bound to wither away.”

That had been way too scripted. He gave a laugh. “That’s it, I’m not downloading anymore trashy romance novels on my phone for you to read.”

Her ears flattened. “If you make me sit through your boring lectures, I’ll break the sprinkler above your head.”

“Alright, I fold.” He held up his hands in surrender. Though he was almost positive it was an empty threat, he didn’t want to tempt fate with the kwami of destruction.

She softened. “Anyways, I think with-” She abruptly cut herself off, suddenly darting against the window. “What’s that?!”

He jerked around, spotting where the sky was darkening on the horizon, turning a deep, inky black. He’d seen it so many times before, the magic was unmistakable.

“You don’t think…” Blake trailed off.

“Omen.” Qrow finished, features smoothing into one of rigid resolve. He turned to the kwami, her expression matching his own.

He lifted his hand, the jeweled ring glinting back at her. “Blake, luck off.”

~

Clover landed in the courtyard, shouting as he ran. “Everyone, clear out!” He desperately tried to remember whatever French he could. “Fuir! S’il vous plaît!”

“Chanceux!” One of the locals cried, desperately trying to find their phone.

“Non, fuir!” He repeated.

A screech from above made him cover his ears, looking up to see the giant bird climbing down the Eiffel Tower, the vertical walk down unnerving somehow. He backed up as the bird landed on concrete, its impressive height daunting him. His fingers clenched around his weapon, backing up as the bird lowered its head. Its beak was big enough to swallow him whole if it wanted.

It seemed that, at least, was enough to make the people around him finally start to flee.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

The voice had him looking higher, spotting the speaker mounted on the beast’s back like a queen in her bed of feathers. Omen walked forward until she stood on the bird’s crown, lowering her sunglasses just enough to reveal crimson red eyes as she stared over the tops of the rims at him.

“What are you doing here?” Clover asked, pulling the yo-yo’s line out as a warning.

She only smiled patronizingly, as if he were no more a threat than a child. “That’s none of your concern.” She pushed her glasses back up, flipping her raven-haired braid over her shoulder. It fell like a horse’s tail along her back, between the wings the Pegasus miraculous granted her.

He felt bad for the imprisoned kwami being forced to do her bidding.

“Tell me, where’s your cohort?” Omen asked, giving a cursory glance around as if Noir would just pop into existence.

“I think I’m more than enough for you.” He instantly realized that had been the wrong thing to say as she laughed.

“You’re alone.” Fuck. “Well, that makes this even easier.” She gestured to the bird she stood on. “But as I’m a fair opponent, I’ll give you a choice. You can hand over your miraculous now, or you can resist and my little Nevermore can have a bit of fun first before I take it.”

As answer, he only started to rotate the yo-yo at his side, the device whooshing audibly as it swung in fast, heavy arcs.

Omen’s dark wings stretched open. “The fun way it is.”

She shot up into the air – but he didn’t have time to worry about her as the Nevermore immediately struck forward, beak opening to snap him in half. He jumped backwards, throwing his weapon out with a yell. It nailed the bird right in its head, the creature giving a sharp cry before it shook it off and straightened up. It opened its wings, the span of them covering a third of the courtyard, and gave a few hard flaps.

It was like being blasted by hurricane winds. Clover yelped as he was thrown off his feet and went tumbling across the concrete. The Nevermore, able to make up the distance in one bound, was on him in an instant. The wind whooshed right out of his lungs as a taloned foot came down on top of him, pinning him to the ground. He grunted, bracing his right arm between him and the appendage trying to crush him while sticking his left arm between its toes.

The bird jerked its head down for another strike, the razor-pointed beak filling his vision like a guillotine.

He swung his left hand upward, the yo-yo flying high and it was by pure luck he got it right in the eye.

The Nevermore gave a pained cry, hopping back. Suddenly, Clover could breathe properly again. He jumped to his feet, slightly lightheaded, throwing his line out again in hopes of tying the creature up and bringing it down.

Instead, with exact precision, the bird caught the end of the yo-yo in its beak, pulling it taut, and then threw its body around, bringing what was on the end of the line with it. Before Clover could process it, his body was yanked forward and he went flying through the air. Everything around him blurred into a mesh of greens, blues, browns and whites, blending together into a sickening cacophony.

He braced himself for the impact.

It was softer, and warmer, then he expected.

“Not having a great day are you, lucky charm?”

He gathered his bearings, realizing who had caught him and jerked his head up in surprise. “Noir?!”

Noir grinned back roguishly, winking one green eye at him. “You know, if you wanted to fall into my arms, you just had to ask.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Clover pushed a hand against his face, rolling out of his grasp to stand on his own. He retracted his yo-yo and studied his surroundings, taking note that he’d been tossed so far, they were underneath the Eiffel Tower. “What are you doing here?”

His teammate didn’t get a chance to answer, the bird giving another of those deafening screeches as it tried to shove itself between the legs of the tower. They both jerked away, before twisting around and running the other way.

“Could ask you the same thing!” Noir shouted over the noise. “Where’s Omen?”

“Lost track of her.” Which meant she was playing her normal A-game: Exhaust them by making them fight her pet so that it would be child’s play to steal their miraculous. Their goal was to defeat it – because if he could purify the contaminated feather within the creature, it would act like a direct attack against Omen, usually enough to weaken her into fleeing.

“Alright let’s – Watch it!”

Both of them jumped back when the corvid was suddenly in the path of their escape route, its gigantic foot missing them by inches when it was thrust under the tower, claws raking over the ground.

That was no good. Clover looked around, before pointing towards the ceiling of beams above them. “Up.”

Noir gave a nod, reaching out to grasp him around his waist and taking out his quarterstaff. He tapped it to the ground, and within seconds it shot them upwards as it extended. When it was high enough, they leapt onto the first section of metalwork, protected in the shell of crisscrossing steel. Noir compacted the weapon back into baton length, turning to him, “Alright, now what?”

“Now we just-” He started to say, raising his yo-yo, when the whole tower rattled as the Nevermore clamped onto the side they were hiding in. It gave a few wild cries, slamming its beak between the spaces as it tried to get to them.

Noir watched it warily before he called, “We’re safe for now, do it!”

Not wasting a moment, Clover threw his weapon up in the air with a cry, “Lucky charm!” The end of the yo-yo began to glow with the magic of creation, until it held the brilliance of a star. Then, with a pop, an item materialized, falling back down into his waiting hands.

It was a fishing rod.

Noir gave it, and then him, a dull look.

Clover was grinning. “Well, looks like-”

“Don’t-!”

“I’m giving fly fishing a whole new meaning.”

His partner groaned audibly. “You are worse than Tatsu.”

“No one is worse than Tatsu.” He joked. Tai’s never-ending set of puns really did fit the bill for cartoon-y superhero though.

Another slam from their enemy had dirt raining down on them from above.

Getting serious again, Clover rose both the rod and the yo-yo, saying, “You knock it off, I tie it up, and we end this.”

“Got it.” Noir nodded, pointing his staff towards the bird. “On your signal.”

He threw both lines upwards, yanking himself to a higher vantage point, running along the metalwork. They were so high up, it was like he was running towards the sky. Just as he got to the end, he yelled, “Now!”

At the same moment he jumped, the pole extended, slamming into the Nevermore’s chest. It was thrown off with a cry and both of them flew parallel to one another. He wound both weapons back then swung forward, the hook of the fishing rod and the ball of the yo-yo twisting around either wing of the bird. Flightless, it plummeted with another screech to the concrete, slamming down hard enough to shake the earth.

Clover’s landing was much softer, falling onto its chest and using the momentum to leap off of it like a trampoline, landing again several meters past its head. He held both the lines fast, ensuring it couldn’t get free.

“Cataclysm!” Noir came soaring out of the tower next, the power of his own destructive magic having taken shape at the end of his baton, glimmering black like an obsidian gem and curved like a scythe. As he came down, he swung it around, impaling the sharp end in the center of the monster bird’s chest.

It gave one last croaking cry, the ends of its wings curling up before falling flat as its body turned to dust, leaving nothing behind but a single, black feather. Clover threw out his yo-yo for it, the ball end splitting open like the shell of a ladybug’s wings, before snapping it up. He pulled it back in, hand open to catch it.

An arrow struck the end, knocking it off course.

In quick succession, another two arrows were shot off as Omen bared down for them, swooping in like a Nevermore herself. Clover swung the fishing rod, deflecting the one coming his way. Noir did the same for the one aimed at him with a quick spin of his staff, before using one end of it to vault himself upwards and meet their enemy half way.

As they grappled in the air, Clover took the chance to yank on his weapon in. With a flit of his fingers along the yo-yo’s surface, it glowed white, purifying the feather.

Omen gave a pained cry, before slamming the limb of her bow against Noir’s head. Clover’s chest tightened in panic, rushing forward as his partner fell like a stone from the sky. He just barely made up the distance in time to catch him in his arms, relieved to find him still conscious. They both looked up as they heard a scoff.

“Tch. Eventually your luck is going to run out. Nothing will stop me from creating a new world.” Omen sneered. “Until next time, boys.”

She shot an arrow above her, another red and black portal opening up. With a flap of her wings, she flew into it, gone as quickly as she had come.

Clover sighed, looking down at his partner. “You alright?”

“Ugh, gonna be feeling that one tomorrow.” Noir grunted, pressing a hand to his head, one of his leather cat ears being pushed down. His injury didn’t seem to hinder his ability to realize their position, because that telltale smirk overtook his face. “Though, guess I’m the one falling for you now.”

“I’m not above dropping you.”

“Are you always this mean to invalids?”

He loosened his hold just a smidge.

Noir clung to him. “Okay, message received.”

Clover set him on his feet, seeing the people starting to trickle back in to investigate the scene.

Time to go.

~

Once they were safely hidden on the rooftops, hidden in the shadows of a chimney, Luckybug turned to him with that million-watt smile. “Thanks for the assist. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Qrow lent back against the brick. As he spoke, his normally rough voice came out even rougher around the edges; the way it always did when he was Noir. “I’m sure you woulda figured it out lucky charm.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to.” He replied, averting his gaze down. He spun the white feather between his fingers, frowning in consternation. “I still don’t understand how she got here though. Her portals shouldn’t be able to reach this far.”

Any other time, he would have been eager to ponder over the details of this latest attack with him, but he knew his time was running short and something more important was on his mind. “Could say the same about you. You got family out here?”

The frown became more defined. “Noir, you know I can’t-”

“Tell me, I know.” He waved off the excuse. “But that could change, if you told me who you really are.”

Lucky sighed, placing a hand on his hip. “Okay, what brought this all on again?”

Qrow met that blue-eyed gaze he’d once fallen in love with, feeling like everything between them was as thin as the wire of the other’s yo-yo. Uncertain and easy to break. If he wanted to make it stronger, he needed something more.

Now or never.

“Look, all that flirting I do? It’s not for show.” He pushed off the wall, clearing the few steps of distance between them. His heart raced in his ears. “I like you. A lot. I want to get to know you, the real you. But, I need to know if I even got a shot.”

“Noir…” He knew the answer before the other even spoke. It was all over his face, etched in his sad smile and downturned brows. “I’m sorry, but my heart’s already with someone else.”

“Oh.” He turned away.

Funny, he thought it’d hurt more.

A tentative hand rested on his shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Qrow replied, surprised that he meant it.

Before more could be said, both their miraculous started to beep in warning.

The hand slipped away. “Guess time’s up. I’ll… see you around?”

Qrow nodded, hearing Lucky retreat along the roof. Before he could leap away, he called, “Hey, that person of yours. Do they know?”

“I, uh.” Gravel crunched underfoot as his teammate shifted his weight anxiously. “Not yet.”

“You should tell ‘em.” He looked over his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Lucky’s eyes widened, and then he was smiling back. “Thanks. Someone’s going to be really lucky to have you too, one day.”

Qrow reached for his staff, heading his own way. “Well, duh. I’m incredible.”

The other cast his line, flying away with a laugh. Qrow watched him go, before dropping down into the alleyway. He ducked down behind some boxes just in time, the leather bodysuit falling back into his normal wear.

Blake collapsed into his hair with a sigh. “I’m going to need about fifteen more sardines.”

“Glutton.” He got to his feet, knowing his nest of black hair would hide her just fine as he headed for the sidewalk.

“Qrow? Are you okay?”

Answering it the second time around wasn’t any harder then the first. “Yeah. I just needed to know for sure. Now I know it’s okay to let him go.”

She didn’t respond verbally, but he felt the way she nuzzled his head, though whether it was meant to be for comfort or encouragement was hard to say. Maybe both.

It took about fifteen minutes to get back to the share house he and a half-dozen other students were living in for the duration of the program. When he stepped inside, he found it oddly quiet, the only noise a slight shuffling in the kitchen. A glance revealed his twin sister was there, hunched over the counter, nursing a cup of tea in one hand as she pressed her forehead into the other.

Heh, maybe she felt him get clonked in the head earlier. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled. “Just a migraine.”

He lowered his voice, “You the only one here?”

Not up for talking more, Raven merely nodded.

Strange, Clover should have been back by now. “Okay, I’ll make sure to tell everyone to be quiet when they get in. Feel better, sis.”

She offered him a weak smile. He ducked out of the kitchen, heading back for his room. As Blake floated down to her still open can of tiny fish for a much-needed recharge, Qrow snatched up his phone to send out the group message, only to find two missed messages from Clover.

The first one was from nearly an hour ago. Sorry, running late!

On my way now. You won’t believe what happened at the Eiffel Tower. That one was from just a few minutes ago.

Qrow quirked a smile. If Clover only knew…

He tapped back a reply. I know. I went out to try and get a view of it. Forgot my phone.

He could see the other was replying, but he switched to the group text in the meantime, sending out a warning to be quiet for his twin. He’d just hit send, when another string of texts came through, one right after the other:

How do you forget your phone? You’re supposed to get photographic evidence!

Anyways I’ll be there in a few.

Also, noted.

Qrow headed for his bed, flopping across the sheets with a groan. The aches of the day were starting to set in, and he felt ready for a shower and a nap. He buried his pounding head into his pillow, shutting his eyes.

He didn’t open them again until he heard the bedroom door click shut. He rose up on his elbows, scanning the room quickly. The sardine can was gone, as was Blake.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Clover asked as he crossed the room, dropping his bag on his bed.

“Wasn’t asleep.” He ran a hand over his face, adding, “Much as I wanted to be.”

“You doing alright? You look pretty beat.”

Beat up was more like it.

“Been a long day.” He offered as explanation. It did little to wipe the concern from the other’s face. “I’m fine Cloves. We got that paper to work on.”

Clover ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Sure we do but we can take it easy for tonight. Can’t say I wouldn’t mind to turn in early myself.”

“You? Mr. Extra Credit?”

“Haha, very funny. I mean it. I have this terrible crick in my neck. Oh!” He dropped his hand so he could go digging into his bag. “But hey, I did bring you something that just might cheer you up.”

That got Qrow to finally sit up, trying not to seem too eager as the other procured a small, white box and held it out towards him. He reached across the space between their beds to take the gift. Once it was safely on his side, he pulled open the top.

“It probably got a little smooshed, but it’ll taste the same.” Clover was right about that – the cake had fallen on its side, and smears of icing clung to the top and sides of the box.

Qrow swiped a finger across one of them, gathering just enough to take a taste, and his eyes lit up. “Double German chocolate? You’re too good to me.”

“Nah, I can be better. Because I have… a fork!” Clover waved the plastic utensil around, winking his way. “What would you do without me?”

“Probably have less dorky interactions to deal with.” He replied, reaching out again.

Instead of grabbing the tines, he curled his fingers over where the other’s held onto the handle.

Qrow deliberately met his gaze, smiling as suavely as he could. “Thank you, Clover.”

Though his cheeks turned a little pink, Clover met him match for match with his own charming smile. “Anytime.”

As they both pulled back, they couldn’t help but think this was the start of something good.

Underneath their beds, unbeknownst to them both, Ruby and Blake shared knowing smiles.

[renaerys]

20. “Have you slept?” (Brick/Blossom)

{{Original posting unfortunately deleted. Reposted here.}}

February Fic Prompt #20 originally requested by the lovely philosophicwax. 

Summary: It's finals week at college, and Brick has hardly slept in two days while studying. A weird monster attacks because of course it does, and he has to team up with Blossom to bring it down while all he really wants to do is take a nap. 

xxx

The great thing about college was that Brick was on his own, living his life, nine months out of the year completely on his terms. No brothers nagging him for shit, no cleaning up after anyone but himself, and no disruptions during study time. His life, his rules, quiet and tranquil.

Except for the giant, sentient hairball currently terrorizing north campus that some poor asshole (Brick) would have to deal with.

Because the worst thing about college was that he was on his own, living his life, nine months out of the year without his brothers around to follow his lead without question.

“Evacuate to Prospect Avenue!” Blossom’s clear, commanding voice rang out over the shouts and screams of fleeing students.

Which, cool. Drunk, sleep-deprived twenty-year-olds in their pajamas at three in the morning were totally going to listen to the imperious Super flying above them in her pink camisole and Ivy University logo sweatpants.

Spoiler: they didn’t, and Brick was forced to abandon his warm, solitary room and his physics textbook in only a pair of old basketball shorts and his favorite red T-shirt in favor of saving a hysterical Freshman from split ends that would have literally split her end to end.

Crimson afterglow marked Brick’s path and singed the sentient tresses that crawled like tentacles after the panicking Freshman. Pudgy and cute and in the throes of a panic attack, she clung to Brick’s shirt even after he set her down a safe distance from the monstrous hairball.

“Please don’t leave me!” she sobbed.

Brick pushed her off him. “Get a grip, you’re not dead.”

She reached for him again, frightened and unable to defend herself against the supernatural monster and yes, okay, logically he knew it wasn’t her fault but fuuuuuuuuck what a pain in the ass this was.

He sidestepped her and she stumbled, almost falling, until he caught her by the elbow so she wouldn’t break her nose on the concrete. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Please,” she sobbed, genuinely frightened.

Brick winced. “Just get to Prospect Avenue. It’s that way.”

And with that, he left her to follow the screams of her fellow fleeing students because she was not his problem. If Blossom had already decided on a proper evacuation plan, then that meant less work for him. Lord knew he was too tired for this shit running on three hours of sleep in the last 50 hours courtesy of two finals in as many days back to back. He had four left. He did not have time for whatever the hell was going on tonight.

Crack!

Blossom crash-landed in the green not four feet from where Brick stood. Her sweatpants were streaked in grass stains and her mane of wild, red hair was swept up in a very messy bun.

“Brick,” she said, a bit breathless, a bit pissed off.

“Blossom,” he returned.

Their passive-aggressive greeting was cut short when a lash of prehensile hair came slamming down on top of them. They bolted in opposite directions, nothing but pink and red vapor, and reconvened high up in the air. Brick got an eyeful of the creature steamrolling through campus and wondered why, even so far from Townsville, he still had to deal with this weird crap.

Talk about a bad hair day, Boomer would have said if he was here. He wasn’t, and Brick just scowled.

“It’s growing,” Blossom said grimly.

Son of a bitch, she was right. The thing was sprouting more arms to help it crawl overland and tangling around the gothic architecture like the ivy this elite college was named for. It slithered through windows and drain pipes, as though searching for life hiding inside.

“Cool,” Brick said.

He was so tired.

“Can you try—”

“Not unless you want me to burn down all of Balin Hall in the process,” he interrupted her, already knowing what she’d ask. Ignoring her frown he said, “What about your—”

“Same problem, opposite outcome. These old buildings will crumble if I freeze them,” she said.

Brick matched her frown. “Fine. Then we split up.”

She looked at him far too gravely for three in the goddamn morning. “That’s not a plan.”

“It’s the best you’re getting from me right now, so stop complaining.”

That earned him a scathing glare. “Brick—”

But she didn’t get her chance to chastise him because a massive hair tentacle shot toward them with deadly accuracy and exploded into nine smaller tentacles when it was upon them. Brick darted away from the mutant tresses, but he wasn’t quick enough. Thick, black hair wrapped around his ankle and yanked him down hard enough to send his jaw rattling.

The stone shingles of a Sophomore dorm building came rushing close. He twisted, tried to get away before impact, but the thing was fast and strong and those shingles couldn’t break him but hell if they didn’t hurt on impact. Brick grunted as he gasped for breath. His back roared with pain, but the Chemical X bonded to his bones was quick to mitigate the damage, leaving him breathless with the brief, phantom memory of it. He gathered scarlet energy in his palms and blasted the hair tentacle shackling him, but the damn thing only quivered like water wherever his energy blasts hit it.

He felt it before he saw it, a cold so unnatural it grabbed him like a vice and squeezed until he nearly choked. Ice crystals bloomed upon the hair, slowing and freezing it until it lost all sentience and cracked like dry pasta under Brick’s immense strength. He blasted out of there and pulled up alongside his savior.

“You said you weren’t going to use your ice breath,” he snapped.

“Thanks for your help, Blossom, I really appreciate it,” she said, flying alongside him in a swoop back around toward north campus.

Brick rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it. Exhausted and severely sleep-deprived, he briefly saw double and faltered. A warm hand steadied his arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” Her voice lacked the smarmy edge this time and she looked at him with a measure of concern.

Brick was about to tell her to focus on the monster instead of him, but he didn’t get the chance when more hair lashes shot after them with the persistence and speed of homing missiles. Brick grabbed Blossom and flew, but he didn’t make it ten feet with her in his arms before a mass of writhing hair surrounded them and constricted.

Blossom gasped for air as she tried in vain to extricate herself, but between Brick’s ironclad hold around her and the hair shackling them together, neither of them could move. The hair squeezed tighter, and Brick gagged.

“B-Brick,” she said, her voice raspy against his neck. Her hands were flat against his chest and they were pressed so tightly together that he could hear his own heartbeat thundering under her fingertips. Even now, he could feel her trembling as they slowly, painfully suffocated.

And now he was good and furious.

Acrid, black smoke swirled in his lungs, hot and building. As little as he could move, he fisted the back of Blossom’s camisole in a silent plea. But three months and change here without either of their siblings around gave them ample time to learn each other free of distraction, and words were hardly necessary anymore. She ducked her head against his shoulder as close as she could get, and he turned his head as far from hers as he could manage before opening his mouth and releasing a concentrated inferno upon the hair binding them.

The effects were instantaneous. The fire gorged on the evil strands with abandon and drew a chilling scream from deep within them. Soon Brick and Blossom were suffocating from the smoke and heat rather than constriction. But it lasted only a moment; the second he felt the pressure around them slacken, he took off as fast as he could before the fire could consume them too.

So much for not burning down north campus, he thought, resigned.

Blossom coughed against him, and he realized he was still holding on to her. Rose met red as she looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said.

He as so tired that all he could do was stare at her for a minute. He was pretty sure she’d never looked at him like that before, without a trace of suspicion or superiority, genuinely happy to have him there.

The hair shrieked again, and both of them looked down on the burning mass below. Except, it wasn’t burning much anymore. The hairball somehow managed to sever the huge chunk lost to Brick’s fire and save itself from burning up entirely. The melted mass stank and smoked and made Brick’s bloodshot eyes water as he watched it turn to ash in mere seconds. Unfortunately, the rest of the hair that had escaped the conflagration was resilient and began to gather and engorge as it angled for Brick and Blossom, like it knew they were a threat it needed to eliminate.

“That hair is psychotic,” Blossom said with such gravitas that under different circumstances, he probably would have laughed at the lunacy of it all.

“Yeah,” he said. There wasn���t much else to say.

She’d pulled away as they hovered, sharp eyes narrowed in thought. Brick, head buzzing with adrenaline keeping him excruciatingly awake, also racked his brain for something that might help him. It came to him like lightning, and Blossom glanced at him in the same moment with the same conclusion.

“What if we led it—” she began.

“—to Tower Lake?” he finished.

She smirked. “Genius.”

“Efficient,” he agreed, managing a tired but determined grin of his own.

The great thing about college was that Brick was on his own, living his life, nine months out of the year with the only person on the planet who was sharp enough to understand him and his thought processes without the added annoyance of explanation.

She took off in a burst of pink, and he flew in the opposite direction, knowing he could trust her to move and adapt with him without the extra guidance their siblings often required.

Her laser eye beams drew the hair monster’s attention eastward, and it roiled like a thundercloud as it scrambled up the side of Balin Hall and launched into the air after her. But Brick was there and ready to blast it with his own laser eye beams, enabling Blossom to slip away from the grabby tentacles. Something within the tangled mass roared, animalistic, and soon it was tearing after him.

Just as it was about to grab him, there was Blossom with a burst of icy wind. They tag teamed the monster, leading it ever closer to the lake where the rowing team practiced, remote and clear of students at this hour. Enraged, the hairball clambered after them, determined to swat them out of the sky until they rebuffed it with fire or ice, only to draw it in again with their lasers.

The giant hairball was not smart, to the surprise of absolutely no one, and when it reached the shore it went tumbling into the dark water, unable to slow its momentum. Screeching, the mass writhed and tried to backtrack to save itself, but the water sapped it of its supernatural strength and the tentacles fell limp and lifeless the wetter they got, until it was nothing but a normal, extremely disgusting hairball.

Brick and Blossom stood an arm’s length apart on the shore watching the mass slowly sink to the bottom. It was an oddly hypnotic sight, and he couldn’t look away even as his eyes began to droop.

“Well. We’re going to need a lot of Draino to clear this out,” Blossom quipped.

Brick, half aware of his bare toes sinking into the damp soft sand, laughed at that one. And then he fell.

“Brick!” she shouted, far away.

He blacked out for all of three seconds, just long enough for her to grab him before he could lose what was left of his dignity by falling flat on his ass. Sluggish, he was slow to react to her looping his arm over her shoulders so she could bear his weight and fly them back toward campus.

“Have you slept?” she demanded in that snobbish way she had.

“Think I just did,” he said, barely able to stay awake despite the ignominy of being half carried like an invalid. That thought ignited something in him and he jerked, making them swerve.

“Watch it! Oh, for heaven’s sake.”

He rubbed his stinging eyes and didn’t really fight her as she led him back through the window to his single dorm room. Luckily, the hair monster hadn’t infiltrated his building, so his room was in the same state as he’d left it.

She let go of him and he landed on his twin bed against the wall. And then he realized what had just happened.

“What the fuck, Blossom?” he growled and staggered to his feet.

He didn’t take even a step from his bed before she pushed him back down with her strength.

“Have you slept?” she asked him again, but it came out sounding more like a threat this time.

“I’m vaguely familiar with the concept,” he snapped and tried to get up again.

She pushed him down again and pressed her hands down on his shoulder so he couldn’t get up again. Red eyes glared up at her, seething, but she matched his venom with her own, and the sight made him falter.

“They say sarcasm is the lowest form of humor. You need to sleep.”

“I need to study.”

Her hands squeezed his shoulders, and her expression softened. “Is that why you’re so tired?”

“No, I’m always tired after dealing with you.” Absurd, every minute of this. He couldn’t even stand up with her weighing him down and blocking him.

Her hands sparked with her power, pissed off at him as usual. Brick wasn’t one to believe in fate or some higher plan, but it was times like this that he seriously suspected the universe was fucking with him by giving him a literal perfect match with the most annoying personality he had ever encountered.

He sighed and rested his weight on his hands on the bed. The power she channeled to her fingers had a lovely, soporific effect as it danced over his neck and shoulders, though he would never, ever admit this to her. “What are you even doing here?”

Her fingers clenched and slackened, like she couldn’t decide, and he bit his lip to stifle a groan. God, that felt good.

“Rest,” she said, much closer than she’d been before.

Her tempting fingers moved from his shoulders along his neck and threaded through his short, red hair. Her nails were clipped but not so short that he couldn’t feel them scrape pleasantly along his scalp.

Sleep-deprived going on his third all-nighter and utterly drained after the adrenaline burst of having to fight a monster tonight in the midst of finals season, Brick finally gave up and leaned into her touch with a needy sigh.

“Blossom,” he mumbled. She smelled faintly of smoke and of him, and the heady scent made him smile to himself. His hand found the hem of her camisole and clenched it gently, a silent, delirious plea to bring her closer.

So smoothly he barely even realized it was happening, she laid him down on the bed, her hands heavy on his chest as if to push him down deep enough for the covers to swallow him whole. Her hair fell around his face, slipped free from its precarious bun, and he breathed her in.

“Rest now,” she whispered, those magical hands still dowsing him in her cool, calming power like waves over his skin.

Unable to resist her, he finally nodded off into a deep, dreamless slumber and didn’t wake again for another twelve hours.

The worst thing about college was that he was on his own, living his life, nine months out of the year with the one girl he could never seem to escape, and whom he’d never managed to keep.

xxx

Blossom gently played with his hair as he lulled to sleep at last, the last vestiges of his controlled resistance finally spent. His fingers remained curled around the hem of her shirt, warm against her waist. Sitting next to him on his bed, she watched his face slacken, at peace as his breathing evened out.

“Why are you so stubborn?” she murmured, running her fingers over his freckled cheek.

He had the determination and purpose of an avalanche, inevitable and absolutely crushing. It had given him the power to catch up to her in school as kids, to challenge her at every turn like no one else could, and to motivate her to try harder, to be better, to give him a challenge worth rising to. She couldn’t say when her feelings had changed. There was not a day, or a moment, or even a sudden epiphany that revealed her deep and tranquil affection for him.

It was as gradual as the changing tides, deep waters hiding truths that had always been there, quietly waiting. She’d been accepted Early Admission to Ivy University, the culmination of her high school efforts, and he wasn’t even sold on college when they went their separate ways for the holiday break. And then, in passing, he mentioned the pre-Frosh weekend in April for new admits; he’d be going, and could he borrow her notes for missed classes since she probably wasn’t?

She couldn’t pinpoint when or how, but maybe that was why. As much as he preferred to remain ineffable and unknowable, he had failed with her. Rather spectacularly, though she would never expose him like that. Not until he was ready.

Carefully so as not to disturb him, Blossom leaned close and kissed his forehead. Ice crystals melted upon his skin, and his fingers unconsciously closed tighter around her shirt.

Stupid, stubborn boy.

But there was time.

The best thing about college was that she was on her own, living her life, nine months out of the year with the boy she’d never been able to leave behind, and never would.

[pctterprongs]

the questioning | jan 5th, 1978.

James felt his footsteps freeze, even with his Dad beside him. The dark tiles that drowned out light surrounded him, the door at the end of the hall cracked open. He could hear the murmurs of people—all of them planning to question him. How bad had they been to Peter? To Sirius? To Remus? How he’d wished to have been in those rooms, be a blockade to his friends. James could take it. He could do it. All he could think about was whether or not his friends were alright. He almost wished his dad stayed with Sirius, Remus, Pete—anyone but—

‘James, it’ll be alright.’ His dad’s encouraging tones broke his thoughts, as James looked to his dad.

“How do you know they’ll be alright?” He didn’t want to ask how he knew his son would be alright. He didn’t want to question that.

‘You boys haven’t done a damn thing. Go—I’m going to be right here when you’re done.’

“Dad, please—go find the lads, make sure they’re alright for me. I can handle this.” I can’t. James knew that, the thought passing his mind. But it was easier to deflect the fear, let it flip and swim inside of his stomach than make it known to his aging father.

The door opened, the sharp dressed witch stood behind the high desk, as four Aurors sat on either side—his sights settled on Alastor McKinnon for a moment—would he go easy on his best friend’s son? On the boys his best friend considered sons? Seated in the straight back chair, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, hands gripped on either side, doing his best to ignore the clear shackles that sat on either side of the armed chair.

‘What is your full name?’ The witch asked.

“James Fleamont Potter.”

‘Education?’

“I’m a seventh year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

‘Age?’

“Twenty.”

Shuffling of paper, scribbling of quill and ink against the parchment, as James only glanced when he felt it safe. The pews aligned all around them. And they brought a teenage boy in here.

‘In your time at Hogwarts, it says you’ve had over two hundred and seventeen detentions. And you’re only starting your second term of school.’

“That’s correct.” James almost spoke through gritted teeth.

‘Charming the stairs within the castle to act as a slide, locking the Slytherin students in the Dungeons, hanging a sign outside of the gates of school that teachers have yet to be able to remove,’ The witch shuffled papers once more. ‘And that’s only off the top of my list.’

James said nothing. She didn’t need to recount what he’d done. Even of some of it was impressive magic, which the sign he and Sirius put up was still one of his proudest moments. But now wasn’t the time for it.

‘It says here you cursed another student’s head to blow up—‘

“Twice his size. It was a prank.” James murmured, keeping his sights set on the Auror before him.

‘Why the boy?’

“I was being stupid.Thought I was smarter than everyone else.” Wasn’t that the truth?

‘In your fifth year, Prefect Lily Evans gave you detention for levitating and threatening to pants a boy in front of the entire school.’

The stony stare now settled into James. Like he could feel that arrogant, good-for-nothing side of him about to burst through in a plethora of defense. Hands gripped the arms of the seat, as his jaw clenched tightly. “Yes. Severus Snape.”

‘Says here you were quite brutal to the boy over the years...’

James could practically see the memory play out from inside of his mind.

'All right, Snivellus?' said James loudly. Snape reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack: dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes and his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, 'Expelliarmus!' Snape's wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him. Sirius let out a bark of laughter. 'Impedimenta!' he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet halfway through a dive towards his own fallen wand. Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had got to their feet and were edging nearer. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained. Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands raised, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water's edge as he went. Wormtail was on his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a clearer view. 'How'd the exam go, Snivelly?' said James.

James physically shook his head. He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t go back there.

He wasn’t that person anymore. Maybe he just needed to keep telling himself that.

‘Is this what Head Boy’s do, Mr. Potter? Pick on their fellow classmates?’ James still didnt’ offer a comment, as the Witch continued. ‘You’ve quite a record, you know. Just alone, one student, the same girl as before, Lily Evans, has given you nearly fifteen detentions in the course of your years. How would that clean your name from the night of the Yule Ball?’

“I don’t—“

But he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

‘Why would Dumbledore think you were good enough to set an example for the Student body? Clearly your record shows the opposite.’

And then James thought back to the worst part of that memory.

'I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!' Lily blinked. 'Fine,' she said coolly. 'I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus. ' 'Apologise to Evans!' James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. 'I don't want you to make him apologise,' Lily shouted, rounding on James. 'You're as bad as he is. ' 'What?' yelped James. 'I'd NEVER call you a--you-know-what!' 'Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can--I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK. ' She turned on her heel and hurried away. 'Evans!' James shouted after her. 'Hey, EVANS!' But she didn't look back. 'What is it with her?' said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. 'Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate,' said Sirius. 'Right,' said James, who looked furious now, 'right--' There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air. 'Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?'

James chewed on the inside of his cheek. “What’s this have to do with the Yule Ball incident? Peter, all my mates are innocent, we didn’t do this.”

‘Mr. Potter, you’re the Head Boy. Dumbledore has chosen you to set an example. Consider us curious to know why he chose you in the first place with such a rich history standing behind you. If it were me, and I had to pick, you would’ve been my last choice, and that would’ve included considering the Giant Squid as a contender.’ The witch offered her opinion, and James nodded.

“I’m sure ol’ Squiddy would fill out the robes nicely then.” James snipped darkly. “No fingers though, might need to help him pin the badge on.”

‘You seem very confident for a boy who was accused of being an accomplice in a heinous crime like casting the Dark Mark. Dare you suggest you’re better than me, Mr. Potter? Better than the Aurors who escorted you here today?’

He wasn’t about to refute that with a comment. Instead, he shook his head, a sharp huff of air escaped flared nostrils.

‘Something the matter, Mr. Potter? Perhaps something you’d like to tell us?’

“This is bloody ridiculous, we didn’t do anything, Alastor—“ James turned his attention to the man who called his father a friend, a darkened glare settling on his expression. “You know I wouldn’t do this, we wouldn’t ever do something like this—“

‘Mr. Potter, I’ll advise you only once that you are not to speak to Auror McKinnon or anyone else up here expect for me.’

Just like that, the shackles danced around his wrists, like they were about to snap closed around him.

‘I’d prefer not to be forced to bind a child.’

James was starting to feel the panic settle into his entire body now.

‘The night of the Yule Ball… do you know who you were with throughout the course of the evening?’ The witch posed, like she was trying to get back on track after ripping him down for his past-self.

“I spent time with my Mother and Father. Lily Evans, the Head Girl, Florence Blishwick, my girlfriend. Remus Lupin and I hung out a bit.”

‘That’s it?’

“Yes.”

‘And all of these people can account for you being there?’

“Yes.” James answered again.

‘How can you say Mr. Pettigrew didn’t cast the spell if you didn’t see him?’

“I know Peter. He wouldn’t dare cast such a mark.” James spoke confidently. It rose from his chest, the way James could proudly say such a statement. “Peter would never.”

‘Mr. Potter, I should remind you, your opinion is invalid here. We want facts.’ The witch snipped at him. ‘The morning after the Yule Ball, where were you?’

“In my dorm. We were going home that morning.”

‘And—Mr. Black,’ The witch said Sirius’s name with such a distinguished twist to her words, James was forced to grip the armrest once more just to keep his wits about him. ‘Mr. Lupin and yourself, you were all in the Dorm?’

“Yes.” James nearly hissed at the woman.

James looked to Alastor, looking at him with contempt—but all the man did was avoid his gaze, look down at the paper in front of him, as James shook his head.

Questioning went on for over an hour and a bit—picking and pinpointing at every instance from James past to the night of the Yule Ball, from his relationships, to questions of confidence that the Head Girl would defend James. He didn’t want to answer any of them, trying to find the means to make sure Remus was alright. That he wanted to see Peter, make sure Sirius would be alright.

‘Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Potter. The Wizengamot will deliberate with the Auror Office and the Headmaster of Hogwarts to deliberate the situation. You will be permitted to resume studies at Hogwarts in the time being.’

James stood slowly, sickened. If this was what they considered protection, now more than ever, their world needed the Order of the Phoenix. Stepping down, he looked over his shoulder momentarily, watching the adults in hushed whispers, as the door to exit opened on his approach. Arms encircled him, the familiar scent of his father’s cologne filled his nostrils. James was thankful, for once, his Dad didn’t listen to him, hugging the man back just as tightly.

‘How’d it go?’ His dad’s tone was full of worry, as James wiped that fearful expression from his face, shaking his head.

He masked it, completely. Like it didn’t matter. Like he was the least of their worries. Like James didn’t feel like throwing up in that moment. Nerves got the best of him, anger got the best of him, fear got the best of him, and it was now revolving in one spinning motion. “Fine. Easy.” He murmured, passing a smirk to hide that look.

“I want to go see the others, Dad.” He murmured, his only concern was his friends in that moment.

‘Alright, son.’ James was pulled comfortably into a half-hug from his father, as they walked away from the dreaded courtroom.

[fire-the-headcanons]

In the corner of her eye, the boy leaned toward the girl and whispered something. The Grimm girl replied at full volume, “She’s staring at you because you’re wearing a gods-damned cape, crow.”

Well, there’s no need to call anyone names. Summer scowled at the girl before returning to her magazines.

Follow the Beacon Summer—First Impressions

[a.k.a. The Disasters finally meet each other and it obviously doesn’t go that well]

[Link to Masterpost]

“Promise you’ll call every weekend,” her mom demanded, holding her tighter. “You’ve got an entire CCT tower in the middle of campus. No excuses.”

“I promise!” Summer said returning the gesture. “And I promise to keep my room clean, and get along with my teammates, and not harass the headmaster, and every other thing you’ve said this week. Mom, we’re only like an hour away. Less if Balt can take you the whole way.”

“Geez, can you imagine if we’d actually gone to Shade?” Tai complained with a good-natured smile as his dad finally let him go. “Fly safe.”

“I am a professional.” Balt straightened his tie. “And you too.”

“Do you think Azraq will be able to talk Saturday?”

“Without you pranksters around I’m sure his workload will get a lot lighter,” he said. “But we need to head out now. Unless you two want to take the ferry back to the island.”

“All right, all right.” Her mom handed over her other suitcase. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Hands full, Summer headbutted her mom’s shoulder before following Dan and Tai toward the shuttle that would head to the Academy. Students were already lining up to stow luggage in the hold, or to board on the top deck. Their parents and Balt headed for a slightly smaller ship swarmed by younger students, headed to Patch and Signal.

“I wish Zaff were here,” Tai muttered, yanking one of his suitcases over a crack in the concrete.

“Me too.” Summer pressed her tongue between her teeth. Leaving home didn’t scare her one bit. Getting partnered with complete strangers? Terrifying. 

Dan elbowed her. “The three of us just need to stick together.” She glanced at Tai behind his back, sharing a brief look of concern. He’d almost been taking their breakup too well.

It didn’t take long to get everything stowed, and then they were some of the last ones on the ship. Students of every year packed into every corner of the vessel, most of them wearing or carrying their weapons. Summer was glad she’d left Gungnir hanging from her belt.

“It’s so crowded,” Dan complained, ducking under the lance of another first year.

“There’s room back here,” Tai said, squeezing past some older students and heading toward the back of the ship. There was a lot more space away from the windows… or maybe people were trying to avoid the girl wedged in the back corner of the ship. She sat on her weapon—a massive black tube with a handle at one end that seemed far too small for the rest of it—and scowled at the floor like she wanted to set it on fire.

“So what is your plan for dealing with Ozpin?” Dan asked, leaning against a decorative strut. “Since you promised not to break into his office.”

“Well, he’s a government official, it doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Summer said, dropping onto a bench and setting Gungnir in her lap. “We barely got away with it at Signal and an Academy will have better security.”

Tai nodded. “We’re hoping if we can see who he’s meeting with, it might help us figure out what he’s doing.”

“ ‘Long as you don’t miss classes and bring the team down.”

“Shut up!”

The ground hummed as the ship rose smoothly into the air, and over near the windows some of the other first years oohed and ahhed. Summer had seen it all before, plenty of times—the four of them had gone to a few summer camps at the Academy.

The girl in the corner grunted, swearing viciously under her breath as the ship banked.

“You okay?” The boy sitting next to her asked, looking up from his book.

“Shut up.”

Summer realized what was so off-putting about the pair—their battle gear was all black, red, and white. Grimm colors. Though, it matched their red eyes and black hair.

The boy shrugged and slouched over his book again, part of his costume falling over his shoulder as he did. It took Summer a second to realize, but he was wearing a cape.

She was instantly jealous. Growing up—dreaming of what her Huntress battle gear would be like one day—she’d always wanted a long flowing cloak like Lady Pimpernel, or the Grimm Reaper… But she’d never had the confidence to actually do it, sticking to her signature white hoodies instead.

The boy looked up—maybe he’d sensed her staring at him, but their eyes met and Summer felt her face grow warm with embarrassment as she gave a small, awkward wave. He gave a tentative half-wave back, and Summer busied herself checking over Gungnir’s ammunition. 

In the corner of her eye, the boy leaned toward the girl and whispered something. The Grimm girl replied at full volume, “She’s staring at you because you’re wearing a gods-damned cape, crow.”

Well, there’s no need to call anyone names. Summer scowled at the girl before returning to her magazines.

“Making friends?” Dan muttered under his breath.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Is that a SDC Guillotine?” Tai asked suddenly. 

The girl stared at him, one hand moving to rest on her seat. “Why.” It wasn’t a question, more of a demand for information.

“Uh… ‘cause they’re cool, and not available to the public for another three months?” Tai said. “Are you two from Atlas?”

“No.”

Tai blinked, apparently weighing whether it was worth the effort—or risk—to continue the conversation. For reasons unknown, he decided it was. “...Mantle?”

“No.”

Summer decided she did not like this girl.

“Professor Carmine gave us our weapons,” her brother—he had to be related to her somehow, right? They were practically identical—took his turn to scowl at her. She wilted, even more shocked by him taking their side than they were by her rudeness. “We’re farmhands from Anima, we tested in to the school.”

“Where did a couple of farmhands learn to fight?” Dan asked, a sour note in his voice, and Summer turned to stare. What on Remnant was that for? 

“The...village huntsman…” Crow stammered, shrinking. “Uh, he… taught a lot of the kids, in town—”

She jumped in before Dan could jam his foot any further in his mouth, hoping to smooth things over.  “He must be glad you got into a Huntsman Academy.”

“He’s dead,” the girl snapped.

The rest of the ride passed in awkward silence. Crow returned to his book—when he shifted, Summer caught a glance at the cover. They’d used that history textbook two years ago at Signal...hopefully Dan hadn’t noticed. 

As soon as the ship landed, Dan made a beeline for the exit. “Can you believe that?” he demanded, glancing back to make sure the pair were out of earshot.

Tai blinked, one hand on the rail of the stairs leading down toward the hold. “Believe what?”

“Zaff’s stuck in Atlas so two rubes from Mistral can play dress-up?” Dan snarled under his breath, boots clanging on the metal steps. “What’s the admissions board doing?”

“...Oh.” She hadn’t thought about it that way. “You didn’t have to snap at them like that…”

“Whatever.” He yanked his luggage off the pile. “They’ll probably drop out before second semester.” 

“First years, please leave your things in the ballroom and make your way to the auditorium!” A short man with a large blond moustache directed traffic on the main path. Older students flowed around him, away from the landing stage and toward the dorms.

Dan continued as the crowd thinned. “They should give priority to people that want to go to their own kingdom’s school.”Summer scowled, but it wasn’t worth it to push the issue. Dan wasn’t very easy to talk to when he got in a mood.

It’s like he’s more upset than Zaff was.

The three of them stacked their belongings together, and followed the other students toward the giant circular building. Upperclassmen flooded up the stairs, but Professor Mesánychta and a faunus that Summer didn’t recognize directed the first years out onto the floor.

“Hi, Professor,” Tai called out, and Summer waved from around his shoulder.

“Mr. Xiao Long, your father warned me you three were coming,” she waved them past with a smile.

The interior of the auditorium was even larger than the other hall had been, though the floor was smaller. Seats ringed the walls, completely full of the older students. A stage had been wheeled out, giving the first-years a decent view of the teachers standing on it.

The babble of voices died down as Professor Ozpin stepped forward and cleared his throat. “To our returning students, welcome back. Remnant thanks you for your continuing commitment to protect the people. To our new students, welcome. You have walked a long road to reach these halls, and it will be a long road that takes you through them. Though you all have many different origins, you now share one destination—but remember, the road does not end on graduation day. You must always keep moving forward.

“Tonight you will all stay in the ballroom. Tomorrow, you will complete your initiation. I suggest you all get some rest. Welcome to Beacon.”

Summer clapped along with the other students, glancing at her friends. Tai was grinning up at the stage like he was ready to take on the entire wilds by himself, but next to him Dan was still glaring into the crowd. A heavy feeling of dread settled in her stomach. I wish Ozpin had said something about our teams…

Next Chapter: Raven—Rock and a Hard Place

[sirveltic]

.:R6S:. Sledge/Lynx/Mute

Boy this really has been a while! I’ve been working on this for a while and hopefully this is good! Also yes, Andrea is in a polyamorous relationship. Fight me I just can’t choose between Mute or Sledge F. Also I’m not a doctor so if something is wrong, do tell me!

Word Count: 10173

Pairing: Sledge/Lynx(OC)/Mute

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, tooth rotting fluff, swearing, mild medical procedures

It hadn't been until recently that Romania had allowed for their special forces to group with team Rainbow. With White Mask attacks being at an all time high around the world, they had seen no reason to lend some of their elite marksmen to some organization. Until now, when things were calmer, more manageable.

It had been almost a year since two members of the SIAS had joined Rainbow. Their personalities were almost complete opposites, yet, as they said, they were attached at the hip.

Andrea 'Lynx' Christoff and Sergei 'Iron Bull' Ralu. A medic and a therapist- just what Rainbow needed. Though recently their dorms had experienced a form of 'team exercise' ; forcing the two to shelter in the bunks of other units. Sergei had gone to bunk with a friend he had made, Gilles. The mountain of a man was a gentle giant- Sergei possibly had a crush on him, as Andrea liked to tease.

Meanwhile the woman had no other choice but to bunk with the unit closest to her dorms; the SAS. She held a neutral attitude to them; most of the time the boys wouldn't bother her and would only really strike conversation because of James, seeing as he was the most nosy. 'For blackmail,' he had once told Seamus, 'she could try to kill us.' Odd, how the most unpredictable man thought a medic would kill people faster than he would.

However scarce may be the moments where the Romanian would come out of her office; all creatures needed social interaction. She was no different. It got... lonely, sometimes. Without her old squadron bothering her to death and duct-aping her bag to the ceiling, how else was she going to get entertainment? Newspaper could only do so much.

Thus, she found herself at the bar in the lounge. It wasn't often she would be driven to alcohol- but, alas, cigarettes and drugs could only do so much. She was alone- most were either too wary of her to strike up conversation or simply didn't trust her enough to approach. She did pull a pistol on Marius once for coming in her office with a mere cut on his arm. She hadn't shot him, but did give him the scare of his life.

Andrea's dull eyes gazed down at the opaque brown liquid in the glass, her natural expression never changing. She was thinking- deep where she dreaded to go, bringing back thoughts she had never wanted to think of. Idly, she sipped at the whiskey, the small ice cubes clinking against the glass cup, breaking the silence if only for a short second. Lowering the drink from her lips and setting it back down on the wooden counter, Andrea sighed. If only she had Sergei talking to her right now- he'd probably be telling some story about his time as a therapist.

Once more, she lifted the glass up to her lips and drank the rest of the liquid, emptying the glass swiftly. She still could feel her thoughts creeping up on her. So, another shot she poured herself, the bottle now almost halfway gone.

A noise caught her attention. Footsteps, almost completely silent had she not been trained to hear subtle sounds. Instinctively, the Romanian looked over her shoulder and saw the youngest member of the SAS approach her. Mark R. Chandar- mostly known as Mute since he seems to never talk outside of situations. Even in situations he rarely talked, only doing so to state something to his team.

Andrea waved a hand at him as he sat down on the stool next to her. Though she wouldn't admit it, the Brit intrigued her. Always communicating in sign language, always looking calm yet being the most protected in his unit. Never seeming to falter his analytics. He truly was the prodigy his file called him out to be.

Speaking of Mark, he waved at her in return and gestured to the bottle of whiskey.

"Knock yourself out." She shrugged, back to her own glass, her own thoughts. She didn't even notice the man get up to walk behind the bar and get himself a glass.

No, she thought purely about the mission that had gone South of what was planned. What had supposed to been a simple bio hazard defusing had almost turned into a full on bloodbath on both sides of the fight.

Her team had barely made it out alive. Had it not been for her skills in field medicine, she was sure they would have all been dead. Monika sported a fractured arm, Elizabeth was in Gustave's care after a bullet to the side, Seamus was dealing with cracked ribs and Emmanuelle had shrapnel wounds from a frag grenade. Andrea? An agonizing hip and a bullet to the shoulder. Nothing compared to the pain of her team. Luckily they had managed to secure and defuse the container before anyone could actually die though the guilt of having missed her enemy sweep was ever so present. Strong enough that not even her marijuana could help her take her mind off of it.

They should have been safe- she should have been the one in emergency care, not Eliza. The Romanian sighed deeply at her thoughts and brought the glass to her lips one last time, tilting her head back to drink the alcohol all in one go. A terrible idea, really. This time, she slammed the empty glass back down on the wood counter and reached up to rub at her eyes with her palm. Ugh. She felt so tired already.

A small tap on her shoulder brought her attention back to the Brit who had returned back to his spot besides her. Despite remaining silent in even the toughest of situations, she could still read the concern he felt for her.

The man pointed at her then held his right hand out flat open, his other hand also flat open on top of his right, hitting the palm gently.

*Are you okay?*

'Course he had heard of what happened- it was a miracle if no one had. Mark was glad to have gotten to Andrea before Mike did. Old bastard would be yelling at the woman, demanding her to tell him who gave her the rights to let Seamus get wounded under her leadership. Baker always did view of the SAS unit as his boys, after all.

Andrea huffed and looked back down at the empty glass, now somewhat stained with the last drops of whiskey,

"I've been better." She answered flatly, sliding the empty glass next to the bottle of whiskey and sighing deeply through her nose. Her brows were furrowed, her head concentrated on trying to distract itself from many different things at once. It clearly wasn't working, Mark noticed, her right foot was shaking and she was tapping her fingers against the counter. She was hurting; physically and mentally.

Had James been here, Mark was sure that the Brit would have mocked her to the point of earning another broken nose. Seamus had probably already forgiven Andrea- she was the medic, after all, she knew more than he did. Plus, he was bedridden until the worst of his ribs went away- around a week or two.

Really, the only thing the operator could do was scoot closer to her and wrap and set a hand on her shoulder in comfort. That, and he also deemed that he would rather have her sober than drunk, if only because he feared how she would be when intoxicated.

Andrea rose a brow and looked over at him with a questioning look, yet didn't protest against the action. It wasn't Sergei holding her and rocking her back into the real world after a night terror, but it was a gesture she appreciated none the less.

"Thanks." Was all she said, letting the silence bask them once again. It was thick, almost like it could be cut through with a knife- but it was welcome. Neither of them were very talkative, she supposed. Mark never talked and she never wanted conversations to last longer than they should.

In the silence of the room they sat, drinking and not saying a word other than a few quick glances.

Sharing the building with the Americans was truly an experience, though.

Jordan was the first to barge in, in his usual outspoken self- Miles and Jack not too far behind him. The only American missing was Eliza. Andrea turned her head away from them, guilt once more taking her away from a peaceful mindset.

It was a solemn day for the affected units. She was sure Monika was being pampered by the Germans in their own dorms.

"Hey~" came the sing song voice from Jordan, who plopped down on a stool next to the Romanian, "There's the dream girl! Holding up alright?"

No answer.

"Tough crowd today, huh." He mumbled to himself, furrowing his brows. The FBI SWAT team had also been shaken by the information given to them about Eliza's condition. Who thought that the most careful person in the team ended up with the worst wound? Jordan turned to face the bar and reached to the back of his neck, scratching the area awkwardly whilst he watched Jack take place behind the bar. Mark gazed over at Andrea again, now more concerned. There was a hint of pity in his eyes; she was suffering. This time, more physically than mentally. Curtly, (and rather rudely, as Jordan had once commented) the Brit stood up and left the bar, walking out of the room in a brisk pace. This left her alone with the Americans.

Great.

The SIAS operator reached into her pocket and took out her phone, unlocking it and beginning to browse whatever sites she usually looked at. Jack (commonly known as 'Pulse') took this as a liberty to speak.

"Any news on Eliza?" He asked while pouring Jordan and Miles their drinks, gazing up at Andrea with an expectant glint in his eyes. Said woman sighed and rubbed her eyes once more, forcing the answer out,

"Her condition is stable but she still lost a lot of blood. We aren't allowing any visitors until we deem her okay. We're looking at about two weeks from now." She answered, Jordan's hiss almost making her leave in itself.

"Doesn't sound to stable to me."

"Then I will gladly give my job to you, Trace." The snap was almost instant, silencing the Texan instantly. At least, until he whistled and turned his attention back to his teammates. Definitely a tough crowd today.

"I'm sure no one's holding their knives at your throat, Christoff." Spoke Jack, now leaning on the counter with a bottle of beer in hand. Heineken. Gross.

"Not at the moment."

"The operation was a success- we all know what we sign up for when we joined our units. Be glad no one actually died." He said in hopes of comforting her. His only answer was a scoff from the woman. His other answer was her getting up and leaving the bar without a word, moving to sit on one of the beanbags at the other side of the room, secluded from the others. This time, Jordan held himself from commenting on it.

The door to the common room opened yet again with Mark having returned from wherever he went. This time, he held a bottle of water in hand and a pill in the other. His eyes briefly scanned the room for the Romanian after noticing she was no longer at the bar. Spotting her in the beanbag area, the Brit walked over to her in a more relaxed pace than before, moving one of the beanbags with his foot to be closer in front of her. Andrea looked up from her phone at him in confusion. That is, until he sat down in front of her and offered her the pill and bottle.

Ah. Her meds. She forgot about those. No wonder her hip felt like it was exploding. With a curt thanking, Andrea took the pill and water bottle from him, popping the pill in her mouth and washing it down with water, to which she closed the bottle afterwards and set it down next to her. Andrea gave him a nod to signal her gratitude and leaned back into the beanbag, taking out her phone. After that, she spent the rest of the hour browsing her phone- going from texting her sister to browsing sites so she could buy more components to her sonar captor device.

Mark, also deeming the worst of the current situation dealt with, made himself comfortable on his own beanbag and crossed his legs; also taking out his phone to browse what he usually looked at.

The next hour was relatively silent aside from the chatting at the bar, to which Andrea kept a close ear to. Who knew that the Americans had some of the best gossip in all of Rainbow? She did now. Then again, she knew most, if not everything about all the other operators and people on base. Such was her job as a medic, after all. Having info about everyone was essential to her job, as Gustave had once told her.

The Romanian kept her eyes mostly glued to the screen of her device, occasionally glancing up whenever a loud sound erupted from anywhere within the common room. Nothing too bad, she deducted, only the Americans sharing a few jokes to try and lighten up their moods with  Eliza being in emergency care. It must be hard to know that a close friend of theirs was gravely wounded and it was nothing they could do. Was this how Sergei had felt after finding Andrea out in Afghanistan, her hip blown to shreds and pissing blood? Maybe. Maybe not. Who was she to care?

Yet again she was snapped out of her thoughts with an oh so familiar voice calling her out.

"Oye! Where's that hag?" Ah, James. His insults could only ever mean affection, she had found out. The woman sighed and rolled her eyes; way to go, life. You've ruined another good moment of hers.

Speaking of the devil, here he comes now, having spotted her seconds after entering the room. What she had expected, however, turned out to not happen. James Porter, the man as unpredictable as time itself, let himself drop down comfortably on the beanbag next to Mark and kicked off his army grades boots to free his feet from the warm.

Gross, but typical.

Almost as if on cue, his loud voice tore through the silence like a starving lion,

"I'll give ya this, Christoff, you've managed ta piss off Mike like I've never seen 'im before." He mused, crossing his arms behind his head as he let out a relaxed, barely interested sigh. Andrea grunted and rolled her eyes,

"I can hear him yelling from a mile away, Porter." A snort emitted from the Brit,

"Aye. Ya really knocked 'im off 'is knickers with that stunt ya pulled."

"Don't. Remind me about it." Andrea hid her face in her hands and sighed deeply, yet again rubbing at her tired eyes. A tick she had developed over the years, she only did it when stressed. Very much like now. Though James' silence threw her off. She knew exactly what he had done to garner such a relaxed and not so bothered attitude.

"You told him where I was."

"Yep." Oh this was just great. She was about to have her ears pulled out because of the rotten snitch she called a colleague. This was absolutely how she wanted to calm down after a mission gone South.

Mark furrowed his brows and looked up from the screen of his phone, glancing between James and Andrea with worry. He knew how angry Mike actually was about that the mission had gone so sour- poor bastard had left the punching bag in the gym to bits and pieces. Last time Mark had seen him, the man was ranting about what he would do to Andrea if she 'showed her bloody fucking face' around him ever again.

Alas, her work morals didn't allow her to skip patients  because of threats and Seamus was in need of a checkup. From an actual doctor and not an old man who hates laser sights. Andrea stood up with a wince and stretched her muscles, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

"Great." She mumbled a few incoherent words in Romanian and limped away as she would do. Her hip would only let her walk so much without limping. James craned his neck to watch her leave the room, an oh so satisfied smile on his face. With a chuckle, he made himself nice and comfortable on the beanbag and swung his legs on the bag Andrea had once been on. Only when he felt eyes stare into his soul did he dare to look at Mark; who looked none too pleased about him.

"The fuck are ya glarin' at me for? She's the one who fucked up 'Mus' ribs!" This time Mark only rolled his eyes and stood up to follow after the woman, his pace fast in order to catch up.

"You're not actually ditchin' me for a fuckin- MARK!" Ah, he knew James was the most social out of all the SAS unit. If there was no one to bother then he would no doubt find some poor recruits to almost smoke to death with his 'toxic babes'.  Porter was quick to leave his oh so comfortable spot to join up with the younger man, punching him in the shoulder as he did so.

"Ya fuckin' wanker. If Mike snaps on us yer fuckin' as good as dead, mate." He growled, only earning a huff from his teammate. As they caught up with the Romanian, Mark reached over and set a hand on her shoulder,  if only to let her know that she had his support in case Mike really did try to kill her. Andrea glanced over her shoulder briefly and blinked, turning her eyes back to the hallway in front of her. Her office (temporary) was a few feet away and the three reached it in a matter of seconds.

"You two stay outside." As James was about to protest, the scent of some strong marijuana hit both men directly in the nose, causing them both to cover their noses. Mark's eyes watered due to the chemicals so he made quick work to try and rub the tears away.

"Jesus Christ that's some strong shit." Said James, looking away to try and suck in a breath of fresh air. He definitely knew who his new drug dealer was going to be.

Now that she was alone, Andrea sighed deeply to allow her mind to clear up before she'd walk in the middle of the storm. Still, it wasn't like she could avoid Mike any longer. Sure she could sleep in her office chair, but she still needed to keep Seamus in top condition to make sure he healed effectively and quickly. The Romanian reached over to the coat rack and grabbed her white coat from the rack, sliding it on with ease. She was glad to be wearing her typical  gray t-shirt and camo pants. No need to change clothing. Before she walked over to her desk, however, she made her way over to the window and opened it wide to clear out the drug smelling air of the office. She'd need to disinfect everything the moment the Scotsman's checkup was done. Now standing next to her desk, the Romanian reached up and untied her auburn hair from the tight bun, tilting her head back to redo the bun more securely.

Now that she looked at her desk more closely, she saw something on her desk. A letter. Most likely from Six or her sister; Laura always did write at the most inconvenient times, she thought as she flipped the letter over to determine who it was from. Ah, Laura. She'll have to read it later when she had time. Andrea tore open the envelope and tossed it aside while briefly running her eyes over the words of the letter, she huffed and set the paper back on her desk for later, grabbing her stethoscope from the corner of her desk before she made her way out of her office and closed the door with her right hand. Surprisingly,  Mark was still there. James, however, had most likely left to either go back to the common room or to the examination to get ready for the show that was about to happen.

"Good to know you're on my side, Chandar." She commented, motioning for him to follow her. He was apart of the SAS, he had every right to be there for Seamus' checkup. Be it by luck or misfortune , the examination room nearest to her was only two doors away. Now in front of the door to the room, she took in a deep breath and turned the doorknob and opened the door, letting Mark enter first and closed the door behind her before speaking,

"Alright. Before we get to the results I-" before she could finish, a force slammed into her she felt herself get lifted up a few centimeters off the ground by the collar of her shirt with a voice booming in her disoriented ears.

"Who the bloody Hell do ya think you are?" Mike growled, keeping Andrea pinned to the door. Unfortunately for him, her experience in situations like these had trained her well.

"Giving your teammate a checkup-"

"After lettin' 'im fuckin' snap his ribs in half? You better have a good fuckin' excuse before I rip yer fuckin' throat out." Again, more threats he wouldn't be able to keep.

"Mister Baker, I don't have time for your aggression.  Unhand me this instance or I will be forced to-"

"I'm waiting, Christoff." Damn him for being her superior. The Romanian glared at him and grasped his wrists tightly in an attempt to let him go. No use, he had an iron grip on her. Soon enough, the both of them had entered a pretty heated argument with Mark trying his hardest to actually separate them. Seamus, hunched over, looked over at James with pain in his eyes.

"Not gonnae stop 'em?" James pursed his lips and shook his head, looking more than entertained.

"Nah. This is gettin' good." He spoke lowly, his eyes never leaving the chaos in front of him that he, for once, hadn't started.

"OI! Leave the poor lass alone! Was'n'ike she could've seen what'dve fuckin' happen'!"

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, Mike let go of the medic after some thorough coaxing from the mute and the Scot's words. Mike's glare never left Andrea, even as she walked to approach their injured teammate. Mike always did treat the SAS as his boys, as funny as he tried to deny the fact.

"Yer on thin fuckin' ice, Christoff." Andrea looked over at Seamus with a cringe and rolled her shoulder, hoping that her wound hadn't been irritated.

"That bad, huh?" No answer. Once a few short seconds passed, she spoke up again,

"As I was saying, Agent Cowden I'll need to test a few things before going over the results with you." She explained, walking over to the counter running the water.

First, she washed her hands in the sink for extra measures. Despite not being too keen on her job, she was going to do it right. All the while she was drying her hands and putting on the medical gloves, she spoke up.

"Has anything felt out of place or have you been feeling any effects from the ribs?" She asked, now standing in front of Seamus.

"Agent Porter please get off of the examination table so I can proceed with the checkup." As expected,  he merely leaned back.

"Agent Porter." A few more seconds of a strong glare made James scoff and slid off the table. The woman made no motion to thank him, turning her attention back to Seamus.

"I'll keep it brief this time. Have you felt anything else other than pain? Nausea, headaches?" She asked, glancing up at him while setting a hand on the back of his shoulder to keep his back straight all the while applying pressure to his chest.

Oh, Seamus was in absolute agony. He practically forced himself to talk.

"Naye. Just some- FUCKIN'-" he took a deep breath, "- agony when I breathe." His accent got thicker,  she noticed, as a response to big amounts of pain.  Mike, though he wanted to act, knew better than to disturb a doctor from their work. Andrea gave a nod, pressing her index and middle finger to a more specific area right below his rib cage. Another hiss of pain. Most likely some bruising of something of the sort.

"Alright, lift up your shirt, Cowden. One of your teammates may help you if you find it too painful." She informed him, helping him lift up his shirt over his chest. Had she not seen worse, she would have winced at the bruising seen on his chest. It would take a long while to recover. Mike now jumped in to help, telling Seamus that he'd keep the shirt up for him. Once Andrea got her hands to the bruised flesh, the boys let the shirt fall back down to hide her gloved hands.

Blocking out the rest of the conversation between Mike, James and Mark, Andrea once again instructed the Scotsman what to do,

"Alright, I need you to take deep and calm breaths as best as you can." She said as she took the stethoscope from around her neck to put the ear tips in her ears. Once the ear tips were adjusted and the diaphragm was set to go, Andrea pressed the cold metal against his bruised skin, earning a hiss of both pain and discomfort. Looking over at Mike  briefly, she gave him a nod and let him lower the shirt back down.

"Deep breaths, Cowden." She was glad the man followed her instructions as best as he could. His breathing was limited, almost like it was blocked by his reflex. Wheezing and wincing, he would be needing more than just six weeks to fully heal.

What made her frown was the slight vibration when he breathed. That was concerning. Moving the diaphragm up his other pectoral, she spoke up,

"Deep breaths, Agent Cowden." His chest rattled with painful laughter.

"I'm tryin'." The Romanian only hummed and went back to her silent self, listening more closely. The rattling consisted here too. Definitely concerning. Now, she moved to his back to give him as much relief from the pain as possible. She did the same thing she had done to his chest, listening carefully (probably taking much more time than needed) in order to make a proper diagnosis. After a moment, she stood straight again and took the ear tips out of her ears, sliding the chest piece out of his shirt and setting the stethoscope back around her shoulders.

"So, your problems breathing indicate that you're in great deals of pain- obviously. There was some rattling in your chest and it may be something like a developing cold though you'll need to go to Doctor Kateb to get it confirmed." She paused, making sure he was listening to all of the information. All four of them were.

"Otherwise I'll give you some Acetaminophen to lessen the pain for a few hours. You'll need to go to Kateb again since until I can go back to my building, I won't have the medicine needed."

"How long 'til 'es back on the field?" Andrea hummed, furrowing her brows as she examined the group more closely.

"Judging by the severity of the ribs, I'm estimating between six to eight weeks before he'll have healed enough to ease back into training. That is, if he doesn't go against my instructions and trains while he's still wounded." Mark visibly winced at that, feeling a pang of pity in his heart for the breacher. Six to eight weeks of nothing but rest and pain. It absolutely would not be a good time for Seamus, he could tell.

"The Acetaminophen should help cope with the pain, though doing any physical activity will make it worse. Your best bet is to spend the first week or so in bed to give time for the bruises to start fading away and for the tears in the thorax to begin healing. Keep movement at a minimum and everything should go as planned." She explained, crossing her arms. Fuck, how she wished she had a cane. Seamus felt the need to speak up this time;

"So ye wan'me ta stae in me bed fer weeks wi' nuthin ta do?" He asked, back in his hunched over position. Fuck, everything hurt. Andrea nodded,

"I don't want you to. You have to if you want a swift recovery. I'll need one of your colleagues to deliver you meals every day and you can only get up to go to the bathroom or to go visit Doctor Kateb for the info and prescription." Tensions were still high in the room, making her feel somewhat awkward for not being able to do more to help, what with the limited equipment she had here. This wasn't a hospital, this was just as close as they could get to a hospital inside a building. No one there were only two separate buildings for the operators to dorm in.

Finally, Seamus accepted his fate with a low wheeze of a sigh. No need to fight nature, he was sure he could go right back to normal after those few weeks. He stood up from the examination table with a grunt and cringed when a surge of pain shot up his chest. Had Mike not been there, he definitely would have fallen to the ground and aggravated his ribs further. Mike frowned,

"No support whatsoever?"

"Putting braces would only hinder his recovery by limiting his breathing further," she informed, walking over to the trashcan next to the door, her foot pressing on the piston to lift the lid up, to which she threw the gloves in the bin and made her way back to the sink, "Which can and will lead him to developing Bronchitis or Pneumonia. We don't want that to happen." She said flatly, drying her hands on some paper towels, to which she threw them in the bin once she was done.

"Now, you four need to leave and bring Agent Cowden back to his bed so he can begin resting." James almost instantly took a step back in a bail from the responsibility. Of course he didn't want to be burdened with taking care of a 6'3 Scotsman. Mark now stood next to his teammate and slung his arm around his shoulder, offering Seamus extra support. Never mind that the breacher was in literal agony. Andrea watched them as they all left to go take care of the Scotsman, a sigh leaving once James closed the door. Good. Peace and quiet for hopefully longer than before so she could focus on her work. That she had to do back in her office.

Not as bad as she expected her day to go, honestly.

The Romanian quickly left the examination room, a hand rubbing at her aching hip. If only the medicine Gustave gave her actually worked properly, then she wouldn't be so slow and considered a speed level one. Then again, she did also wear a lot of gear so it was only fair she was slow on the field.

Her steps were quick to get her to her office, to which she grasped the doorknob and turned it to allow herself in. Alright, the smell of drugs was more faint now but still noticeable. Oh well, the only thing she could get in trouble for was smoking in her office. Nothing she should actually worry about. Walking over to behind her desk, she pulled her chair back and sat down on it with a huff, pulling out her phone and tossing it on the wooden desk, next to an empty coffee mug and some newspaper. Yes, she still read the newspaper. Leaning back in the chair for a moment to take a deep breath, Andrea sat back up with her back straight and muscles aching. Moving herself and the chair forwards, she pulled out a few papers from the drawer built next to the desk and began reading through them. Now to see who was in need of a quick checkup and who had already been covered by Gustave. Might as well text him to see if he had the list of those he was covering and those that had already been taken  care of by the other on base medics. Grabbing her phone  and unlocking it, Andrea selected the French man's number and texted him,

.: I'm looking at the files for my building and I need to know who hasn't been covered yet. Let me know when you're available.:.

With that, she put the phone on vibrate and slid it back to its previous spot, setting the files aside to take care of reports. There wasn't an awful lot she could do as a medic and God knows her hip was not going to let her move much for the next hours or so before she would need to get some food and maybe get a cup of coffee to skip sleep.  Andrea read through the words quickly, setting aside those she deemed to be priority- such as health updates on the ones that had been on her team or recently came back from situations. Speaking of situations, Maxim and his team were supposed to be back sometime tomorrow and she had heard that they all had some sort of wound that needed to be patched up more carefully.

As she kept herself focused on the papers in front of her, half of her mind drifted off into her thoughts once more- this time all related to her schedule for tomorrow. Alright, so, the helicopter would arrive at around ten in the morning, an hour after breakfast was done. Then, she thought, she would need to call over Maxim and his team so she could give them a look over and patch any wounds that wouldn't be too threatening. If there was an emergency to be taken care of, then she would do so to the best of her ability and limited tools. Has she mentioned how much she hated being in this building? Well, now she has.

The medic set down the papers and checked her phone for a reply- nothing. He was probably busy or forgot to turn his phone off of silent. Maybe he was fucking his wife- who knew. Andrea couldn't care less about what he was doing so long as it was related to paperwork-  the thing she despised with all of her heart. The thing she was doing right now.

Had she always been doomed to suffer in a chair, writing all day and dealing with morons?

The operator frowned and shook her head with a sigh, turning her gaze to the radio next to her. It was old, out of date and didn't work that well- but it had been her father's old radio and she'd be damned if she ever got rid of it. Pressing a button at the side to turn it on, she fiddled around with the antennas for a moment before rotating the widget to try and find a channel. Soon enough, she landed on a news station. Eh, better than nothing.

With some background noise active,  Andrea grabbed the ashtray at the edge of the desk and brought it closer to her, reaching in her back pockets to grab a lighter and a box of cigarettes. Once the box was open, she bounced it a little to get  the butt of a cigar poke out, to which she promptly grabbed and placed in between her lips while she closed the cigar box and put it back in her pocket. Now grabbing the lighter, her experience allowed her to almost instantly ignite the tobacco, setting the lighter aside after she had taken a puff to get it started.

Oh, that felt good. The rush of  smoke leaving her lungs through her nose, making her feel alive even though she very well knew that she was slowly killing herself. There. Now that she was ready, she might as well work on these reports to get them over with as quickly as possible. She leaned forwards, taking a pencil in hand to start her work, while listening to the radio and also smoking- talk about multitasking.

Caught up in her thoughts and demise, Andrea hadn't even noticed the fact that almost two hours had gone by and that she was currently missing lunch. Huh. No wonder her stomach growled once in a while.

Mark, on the other hand, had noticed the Romanian's absence from the mess hall and had made sure to get both himself and her something to eat. Looks like the SAS needed to be skipped today so the medic wouldn't skip a meal and end up more of a bitch than usual. Not that he would actively call her a bitch, but everyone thought it and he had to admit, Andrea was a bitch sometimes. Balancing the tray with both plates in his hand, Mark rapped his knuckles on the door, knocking in order to ask a wordless question. No more than second later, an oh so familiar voice rang out,

"Come in." Ah, so she was allowing people to walk in after the confrontation she had with Mike earlier. Good to know. The Brit didn't miss a second either, entering the office (now devoid of weed, but filled with a smokey smell) only to find the Romanian in the process of smoking a cigarette. Wasn't she supposed to be the health nut here? At least the window was open wide. Mark scrunched his nose yet joined her at her desk, moving one of the chairs to be diagonal of her, to which he sat down after placing the tray on a free spot on the desk.

Andrea, getting the cue, worked quickly to clear up her desk space. By that I mean she just moved everything to the side and  let a few things fall. Oh well, she would pick them up later.

"Thank you, Chandar." She hummed, almost feeling a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. But it would take a hell of a lot more to get her to smile, that she would make sure of. The Brit only offered her a friendly smile and took his own plate of food. Nothing too fancy, he had what was usually served on this day; a healthy amount of everything that was good.   Not restaurant quality, but it was better than military food. Poor people had to eat from  bags when they were deployed. No doubt Andrea had already done that before.

With the two once again plunging into silence in order to eat, Mark listened closely to the radio on her desk. It was somewhat old, it would static every once in a while and would stutter if the antennas moved even a smallest bit. He wondered why the Romanian didn't want to replace it with something more modern, that worked better. Plus, he couldn't understand the language being spoken- though he assumed it to be Romanian. Maybe a news channel  of some sorts, she seemed like the type of person to listen to that instead of music.

"Is Baker calm now?" The sudden question took him by surprise, as he had been about to take a bite. Lowering the fork and closing his mouth, the man began to gesture with his hands once more,

'A little more than before now that Seamus ate and went to bed.' Good, that was good. Maybe he would be easier to deal with tomorrow morning, when Maxim was supposed to come back. Andrea nodded at the information and took another bite of the food, her brows furrowed. Just how much could she think about bad things in a day? Even when she had been stranded in Afghanistan with her shredded hip bone poking out of her flesh she hadn't been able to think as much as she was now.  Eugh. Just thinking about that day made her scar ache even worse. Damn chronic pain and damn her memory for triggering phantom pains too. Now all of her scars hurt like the devil.

Soft tapping on the desk caught her attention- Mark was signing to her.

'How are your wounds?' He paused to allow her to answer. The woman glanced at him and then at her bandaged shoulder which had been covered  by the white coat for some time now.

"There's just an ache left. I'll be back to normal by the beginning of next week." While maybe the bullet wound wouldn't have  completely healed,  it was deemed safe enough to go back to usual training. Plus, it's not like she always followed the instructions she would give to patients. Talk about hypocrisy.

Mark frowned and turned his brown eyes over to his food, awkwardly going back to working on finishing his plate. Well. This had just gone awkward rather fast. The curse of being as antisocial as he was. Woe was him.

Soft vibrating caught his distracted self, his attention locking onto Andrea's phone; which she had picked up and opened. Andrea raised her brows; huh, Gustave had finally replied.

.:The GIGN, GSG-9 and CBRN have been covered by me. Mégane and Jackson are taking care of the recruits and you have the SAS, Spetsnaz, FBI and the newest Australian recruits.:.

.:Alright, I'll see to it. When do the SASR get here?:.

.:In a month from now.:.

.:Understood. Thank you, doctor Kateb.:.

.:Pas de problème.:. Andrea set her phone back down after the last text, closing it and now fully focusing on the food in front of her and the company besides her. She held back the urge to sigh. So many things to think about, so little time to ensure they were done.

This was going to be a tough month, she was sure about that. Not only that, it was her turn to count the supplies at the end of the week and that meant an extra hour to her shift if everything went smoothly.

With time passing by quickly and lunch being over, Mark supposed he would take his leave now that Andrea seemed to be focusing more on her work than him. Typical. Saying no other words, the Brit grabbed both empty plates and stood up, walking over to the door. Before he left, he sent one last glance over his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern. All he saw was the woman wasting her short life at the desk.

When would she see past her mistakes?

A click of the door signaled his departure.

Long after she had begun her work, Andrea glanced up at the clock over the door. Hm. She supposed she could take a break. The woman sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing the back of her aching neck. Oh, she really needed a better chair. Maybe one that didn't feel stiff despite being made of leather. With a grunt, she leaned forwards and turned off the radio, picked up her phone and stood up, putting it in her back pocket. She resisted the urge to run a hand through her hair, in fright of disturbing it from the tight bun it sat in. The Romanian left her desk and walked over to door, her hand stopping just short of actually grabbing the doorknob. Her brows furrowed. And where would she go? Where could she be at peace from knowing that she had almost cost someone's life?

With a sigh, she opened the door and left, closing the door behind her and walking down the hall with the intent to leave the building to seek out the comfort of a close friend.

The outside wasn't much more peaceful either. The air cold, the sky gray and the surroundings humid, threatening for rain to start. Andrea's gaze left the sky and went back down to the asphalt road, sliding her hands in the pockets of her doctor's coat.

Luckily, the building was only a ten minute walk from hers, so she had gotten there in a matter of moments. She had also been left alone to her thoughts, left to lament in the knowledge of her recklessness.

After checking herself in, she rushed to the office of the one man who had been through hell and back with her.

Sergei. Her savior, really. The medic made her way up the stairs quickly, soon arriving to the floor his office resided in. There was an ache in her hip, annoying at best, frustrating at worst.

Finally, she stopped in front of  her teammate's temporary office. She had gone around ten minutes of a walk to get here, the ache in her hip ever so present. As she stopped in front of the door, Andrea paused, her hand on the handle. What could Sergei do about her lament other than tell her that it hadn't been her fault when it very much was a lie? With a sigh, she twisted the handle and pushed open the door, running a hand through her messy hair.

Sergei looked up from his clipboard, startled that someone had walked in without an appointment. This was supposed to be his break, dammit.

"Andrea. You're back." He hummed, watching her carefully with his honey colored eyes as she trudged over to the couch and let herself drop on it, now taking up all of the space. Hm. She definitely wasn't airing too well. The woman hid her face in a pillow on the couch.

"You don't usually act like a child." He commented. A muffled moan was his reply. Sergei rose a brow, idly petting the cat on his lap with a hand.

"What's this about?" This time, Andrea lifted her head up,

"Take a wild fucking guess."

"We've talked about the language, Andrea." Said woman only grumbled and pressed her head back into the pillow. The ex-therapist leaned back against his chair and sighed deeply, bringing his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Though after a moment, his brows knotted in concern. Oh, who was he to be mad at Andrea?

"Dea, you know that not telling me what the problem is isn't a good idea." He spoke softly- never having been one to raise his voice out of anger. Not even when he had caught his ex-wife cheating on him with a lawyer.  He was much too soft to show anger for more than a few moments.

Andrea sighed deeply and sat up, crossing her legs and looking down at the floor.

"There's nothing you could do to help me, Ralu. You and I both know that."

"That's what you told me back in Afghanistan. But look at where you are now, Andrea. Thinking that all things are impossible is simply not true." He paused,  the hand petting his cat also coming to a halt, making the Maine Coon chirp and look up in confusion.

"You're too close minded for your own good, Christoff. Every small mistake you do, you act as if it was the worst thing in the world. When was the last time you've had a good night of rest?"

Andrea paused.

"As I thought. Andrea, I'm speaking as a friend, " Sergei paused, standing up from his chair once he set the cat on the floor. He walked to the woman and sat down next to her, setting a hand of his on her back.

"You have to forgive yourself if you want to live." His voice was soft, worried. He knew the extent of how she could get if she delved too deep in her regrets. Andrea looked down at her hands, her eyes trailing the scars from her deployment. It was as if she could never escape the never ending loop playing inside her. Sergei's grip on her shoulder tightened.

He couldn't let her lose another hip.

It took no further coaxing for the operator to suddenly stand up and leave the room, exit the building and make the walk back to her temporary abode.

-/------\-

By the time it was night time, Andrea had already burned through all of her work and skipped supper.

Throwing the wrapper of the granola bar in the trashcan next to the door, she shrugged off her white coat and hung it on the coat hanger while opening the door, closing the lights before locking the door and walking off to the SAS dorms. It was early (in her standards) to be going to sleep, but so long as she went in before Mike did, she would escape a death glare and that was all that mattered.

Luckily for her, the dorms weren't too far from her office and allowed for her to arrive to her destination fairly quickly. Andrea ran a hand through her hair and wrapped a hand around the doorknob, twisting it in order to push open the door effortlessly.

Immediately, she was greeted with the loud snoring of none other than Seamus. Not to mention that the covers were halfway on the floor and that he hadn't touched the painkillers at all. Or even turned off the lamp. The medic sighed tiredly through her nose and walked over to the side of the man's bed, picking up the blankets and laying them down on him so she wouldn't have to stare at him half naked.

Not that she hadn't seen him naked before. Both sexually and professionally. Many would be surprised about the amount of people in Rainbow she had seen naked in order to do a medical exam.

Andrea shook those thoughts out of her head and looked back down at Seamus, inspecting him.

Once she made sure that he wouldn't kick off the blankets again, Andrea turned around and undid her belt, sliding it out of the loops with relative ease. Setting the leather belt aside on the nightstand, she reached up and pulled off her hair tie, allowing for her auburn red hair to fall loose on her shoulders. Tossing the tie away, the soldier walked over to the joint bathroom of the dorms and closed the door behind her. Man, she really needed a warm shower after a day like this.

Playing around with the shower for the right heat took some time, but eventually she found the perfect temperature and undressed, tossing all of her clothing into the nearby hamper and entering the shower, pulling the curtains to hide her naked form in case anyone came in unannounced.

Feeling every single water droplet drip down the crevasses of her scars felt weird, yet held a sense of familiarity to it.

She hated that.

Andrea tilted her head back and closed her eyes, relaxing within the steamy shower.

Around ten minutes or so, she turned off the water and pushed the curtain aside, stepping out and grabbing a towel to immediately wrap around herself. Taking in one last breath of the refreshing steam, Andrea exited the bathroom back into the shared bedroom, closing the light and door as she exited the room.

"Well aren't ye a sight for sore eyes." Hummed a thick accented voice, causing for her gaze to snap towards the source of the voice.

Ah, looks like Seamus had woken up. He must have heard her when she turned on the water from the shower.

"You should be resting, Cowden." She told him flatly, making her way over to her dresser to pick out some pajamas. Seamus merely whistled as he watched her pass by, mumbling curses while he sat up to get a better view of her (albeit covered) naked form. Ugh, men, is she right?

"Ah've done all me restin', lass." While not entirely true, he did get plenty of rest for the day and even if the pain he felt was absolutely agonizing, he could very well say that he had gone through worse in the past. Being an ex rugby player did come with its fair share of injuries, including past concussions. Andrea glanced over her shoulder with a blank face and a raised brow. She didn't believe him one bit. Turning back around so her back faced the breacher, she let go of the towel wrapped around her, letting it fall to her feet. Now, she was truly naked.

A wolf whistle was all she needed to hear to know that Seamus was enjoying the view. Such a sound made Andrea scoff and shake her head in an emotion he couldn't seem to detect.

"You're so immature."

"Cannae help it, lass."

"You've seen this all before. There's nothing to admire."

"There is if ye look hard 'nuff." Was everything sex related the only thing on the Scotsman's mind when it came to seeing her naked? She swore he gave her the same comment each time she would undress in front of him.

The Romanian put on her underwear and a shirt just the perfect size for her and turned back around, picking up the towel and throwing it to the other side of the room. Who cared if it was right next to the door? She was far too lazy to walk back into the bathroom.

Just as she was about to walk over to her bed, she felt a strong pair of hands grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her on top of their host. A small grunt escaped the soldier as she fell back against a body, barely having time to process it all before she was trapped on a bed, encased by a strong pair of arms with equally as strong man holding on to her.

"Cowden, you're only slowing down your recovery."

"Mmhm."

"Cowden. Let go."

"No." The denial was further enforced with a kiss to the crook of her neck.

"Seamus, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"You need your rest."

"Ye haven' slept in three days, Drea. Spoil an ol' soul like me jus' fer once?" Surprisingly, it was hard for her to resist Seamus when he used her own bad habits against herself.  However, she was as stubborn as a mule; as the others would say.

"No. Let me go, Seamus." The arms around her didn't budge despite her hearing his somewhat labored breathing. He was hurting, understandably so. Dammit.

Fucking hell, why did she have to be with the one person who made her regret her actions more than anything? She'd thought that she could just walk in and sleep on Mark's bed for the while Seamus was healing. But no. Life didn't want to give her a break.

"Fucking- I said let me go before I try to struggle out of your arms." Her tone was becoming strict; a hint of desperation lacing itself in it.

The same tone she had used while talking to Eliza's suffering body. Seamus again only grunted in reply, his grip tightening. Still, she began gently trying to pry his arms off of her, to no avail.

"Kintsugi." His voice tore through the stiff silence, making the attacker in his arms freeze. "Fixin' pott'ry wit' gold. Could apply tae ye too, 'Dea. Always gettin' banged up, blaemin' yesel' an' only makin' your situation worse Eliza's stable, no?"

"Barely. Eliza almost died, Monika is out of field for the next week as you are, Emannuelle had to get a blood transfusion and you are--"

"Fine. I'm fine. Nuthin' more than a few broken bones." Andrea, finding that his grip had loosened, sat up with the use of her arms as support.

"Seamus, you're on fucking bed rest for the next six weeks! Those are vital bones-- do you have any idea what could have happened if-" Again, the strong pair of arms pulled her back down on the bed effortlessly. This time, Seamus buried his face in the crook of her neck; the part that held all the scars from previous fights.

"Ye can't keep fightin' fights on yer own all the time. C'mon. Lae down for a moment an' stay wit me for the night. spoil a man some, why don't ye?" Andrea frowned and sighed, relaxing her muscles. Oh, to hell with everything.

"You're insufferable." She muttered under her breath, shifting around so she was facing his broad chest. Her only reply was the grip on her tightening protectively.

"Aye. Ye still lov' me though." He hummed, leaning down to place a soft, loving kiss to the woman's lips. He didn't mind the way the scars along her jawline sometimes cut through her otherwise soft lips, he never did. Yet Andrea continued to believe that her scars made him pity her.

Breaking off the kiss, Seamus placed his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes, his muscles loosening.

It wasn't long before the medic felt her eyelids grow heavy. No matter how much she tried to fight the drowsiness, they would simply droop back down for a few seconds before she forced them open again. Alas, she had never been good at fighting off sleep for longer than three days.

All it took was a simple kiss to the top of her head and she was out like a light, falling in a sleep deeper than any of her other slumbers before. Seamus too, soon joined her in her slumber.

Mark was startled, to say the least, when he walked in the dorms and found Seamus and Andrea cuddling on the same bed. He wasn't startled that the woman was in Seamus' arms, no, but rather that somehow she had been coaxed to even be near his bed at all. Shaking his head in amusement, the young adult went in for a short shower and came back out within five minutes, drying his hair with a spare towel before getting dressed in his usual pajamas.

It was late at night, no way was he going to stay awake any longer. The defender carefully squeezed himself on the shared bed on the other side of where Andrea lay, officially putting her in the middle of this cuddle sandwich. Sliding under the covers, Mark rolled over on his side to face the two sleeping people and wrapped an arm around the Romanian's waist, pulling himself closer. Hm, looks like Andrea forgot to turn off the lamp too. Reaching over, the Brit pulled on the short cord and laid back down once the room was engulfed in darkness, sighing deeply through his nose as his eyes closed.

The man leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, keeping his face pressed up against her bare skin, inhaling the sweet scent of the soap and shampoo she had as a guilty pleasure.

The smell of cinnamon sure was strong.

Mark settled his head back on one of the two pillows of the bed, shifting back into his thought for the last time of the day.

Tomorrow was another day, it could be boring or it could be filled with the best or worst things to ever happen in the world. They could be deployed all three at the same time or maybe even die. He could return to base all alone with no lover to greet him ever again.

But worrying on such things took too much energy out of him, made him feel more exhausted than he already was. Sure, he could stay with Andrea all day long, but Seamus also needed to be taken care of.

Exhaling deeply through his nose once again, Mark furrowed his brows and shifted closer to the woman, his muscles tightening ever so slightly.

Maybe tomorrow he could finally get her to eat with the others in the mess hall instead of the office. At least she allowed for him to stay this time!

It was a slow step towards recovery, but it was one he was going to welcome.

The Brit opened his eyes upon feeling the person in his arms roll over to rest on her back. In the midst of the dark night, his tired eyes only managed to capture the shadow of her form lay still once more, aside from the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Finally, he closes his eyes for good and sauntered off to sleep for some peace in quiet.

As strange as his life may be, he would never exchange it for anything else.

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 45

It’s been eight months, 45 chapters, 160k words to get to this moment, and DAMN THIS WAS SATISFYING TO WRITE 😏

Also on AO3 as usual

It was late in the evening on 13th February, and the clock was ticking.

“There’s no way I can go stash the flowers in Ivan’s room without Kim and Max spotting me, so you have to distract them,” Alix said.

“Got it,” Nino replied, nodding. “I’ll go do that now.”

“And you, Marinette…” Alix gestured at the rain out of the window. “If it keeps raining, the whole plan fails. You need to keep Aurore and Mireille in a good mood so they use their weather powers to make it sunny.”

“I baked some cookies earlier, maybe I’ll give them some!” Marinette said.

“Good. I’ll let you know how it goes. Now go off and do your thing!”

Marinette and Nino ran off in opposite directions. Alix picked up the wagon full of flowers beside her and started dragging it towards the exit of the merchant square. Once she reached the entrance to the dorms she waited for bit, just in case Nino had been delayed and Kim and Max were still around. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she took the wagon in and knocked on the door to Ivan’s room.

“Oh good, you brought the flowers!” Ivan said. “Mylène told me all about your plan and I can’t wait to help!”

Huh, usually Ivan always seemed overly grumpy and quiet, but for once he was smiling brightly and looking cheerful. No wonder Mylène liked him.

“Thanks,” Alix said. “We’ll hide these flowers in here until the rain stops, then go to the fountain and display them.”

Ivan pulled the wagon into the room and started having a sort through it. “Roses… some other pretty flowers… I don’t know much about flowers, really, but they smell so nice!”

“I don’t know much about flowers either,” Alix said. “I had to ask Rose and Juleka what to do, and then ask Chloé and Sabrina where to buy them.”

“So is it true you’re setting up Kim and Max?”

“…Maybe.”

Was there much point in keeping it a secret if everyone already knew? But then again, they were trusting her not to tell anyone. She had to at least try to act like the plan was still some big mystery, even if everyone already knew what she was up to.

“Looks like the rain is stopping,” Ivan said, looking out of the window. “I’m not sure since it’s quite dark out there.”

“Oh good, Marinette must be doing a good job already. Well – no point wasting time. Let’s go.”

She opened the door and had a quick check. Kim and Max were nowhere in sight. Good. Picking up the wagon handle, she pulled it out of the room and Ivan followed.

It was cold and dark outside, though the rain had stopped entirely by now. The fountain was deserted. Alix put the wagon down and started pulling out the flowers, having to squint to see with so little light.

“What if Kim and Max don’t even come here tomorrow?” Ivan asked.

“They will. I know they will. I told Kim myself to take Max here. Uh, not that this is anything to do with Kim and Max, of course…”

Holding a bunch of flowers in one hand, she pulled Nath’s drawing out of her pocket with her other hand and gave it to the snake to hold up so she could see it.

“Okay, so the roses go at the top and the carnations go lower down. I can’t reach up there so I’ll arrange the carnations here and you just make the roses look nice, okay?”

Ivan nodded. He picked up some of the roses and then stood on the edge of the fountain walls to start putting them up near the top. Meanwhile Alix worked on trying to make the carnations look somewhat nice. She really had no idea what she was doing. How did people find flower arrangement a fun hobby to do in their spare time?

It took quite a while, but finally the fountain looked somewhat nice. By that time they had spent long enough in the dark that their eyes were getting accustomed to it and they could see it a lot better.

“Yeah, this looks like the drawing,” Alix said, taking the drawing back and putting it in her pocket. “Thanks, Ivan. Good work.”

“No problem! Let me know if you ever need help with anything else!”

He held up his hand for a high five, and she happily did so. His hand was seriously so big – why was everyone else always so giant compared to her? It was just unfair.

“So are you and Mylène doing anything tomorrow?” she asked him as they walked back towards the dorms.

“Mylène says she has a surprise for me,” Ivan said, his voice sounding much softer than usual. “I can’t wait to find out what it is. I wish I could just go to her room now and go and see her, but she told me to stay out until whatever present she’s working on is finished…”

“Oh, nice.”

“And what are you doing now? Going to go give Kim and Max some advice or something?”

“Pffffff, no,” Alix lied. “I was just… well, I guess I could go see if Kim’s changed his opinion on pillow fights yet…”

Ivan’s face lit up. “Pillow fights?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to pillow fight that idiot, but he refuses because pillows are too special to him, of course. Don’t ask.”

“Then you can always pillow fight me!”

She tried not to laugh. “Are you sure? I’m not gonna hold back. You will die from blunt force trauma caused by me with a pillow.”

“Yes, that sounds great!”

Wait, he wasn’t kidding? She looked up at him to see him smiling just as cheerfully as he had been before. The usual grumpiness was nowhere to be seen.

“Alright then,” she said, a grin spreading over her face. “Let’s have a pillow battle. Class giant against the class midget.”

“I’ll race you back to my dorm!”

He laughed and ran off before she could even say anything else. For a few seconds she was too surprised to move – was Ivan really like this underneath that tough exterior? A sweet, goofy kid who liked to have fun just like everyone else?

Hmm. New friend alert. This pillow fight was going to be fun.

Somewhere not too far away, Kim traipsed back into his own room and just flopped down on the bed. Why had Nino wanted to show him and Max the graffiti corner around the side of the building? Kim already knew about that. Everyone did. Even the teachers did, and they never bothered to get rid of it. Something was fishy, but he couldn’t work out what.

Never mind. He was tired, and tomorrow was a big day. Time for some sleep.

The hours passed too slow and too fast all at once. Tossing and turning, Kim just couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was Max – how was he going to react tomorrow? What would happen? Would things go well? Or would it all somehow turn into a complete disaster, just like everything else in Kim’s life?

Morning soon arrived, and despite his lack of sleep he didn’t feel tired at all. He grabbed his phone and sent a very important message to Alix.

Just stay in your room and don’t interfere okay, I’m doing this by myself!

He hadn’t expected to get a reply at this early hour, but apparently she was already awake.

You can do it!!!

Reading her words of support gave him the motivation he needed. Today was the day he was going to confess his love to Max. Today! No more hesitating, no more putting it off, no more waiting. This was the Cupid Festival, the perfect day to do such a thing. The past several months had been leading up to this moment.

He jumped to his feet, ready to go, when he heard a knock at the door. That had better not be Alix, he’d literally just told her to stay in her room…

Opening the door, he saw Max standing there in front of him. His heart immediately started beating a thousand times faster – no, he wasn’t ready yet! Not yet!

But he may as well get this over with. Before he lost the opportunity forever.

“Max! I have to tell you something–”

“Wait,” Max said. He was standing with his hands behind his back, seemingly hiding something. “Kim, please will you do something for me?”

“Of course!”

“Close your eyes and don’t open them for 100 seconds. Okay?”

“Okay…”

Kim shut his eyes and began counting. Almost straightaway he felt Max pin something on the front of his shirt and then heard his footsteps running away, but he kept his eyes closed and continued counting.

Opening them at 100, he looked down at his shirt to see that Max had stuck a little red sticker there.

No wait… not a sticker. A badge. It was red, heart-shaped, and had golden sparkles on it.

A red heart…

Just like a Cupid sticker.

Cupid stickers. Those were what people gave to their sweethearts or crushes on the day of the Cupid Festival. And Max…

Max had just given one to him.

And not just any ordinary Cupid sticker either. A special one. A unique one. One that almost looked like some kind of medal.

A romantic gift.

Too many thoughts were whizzing through his brain at once for him to even begin to sort them out. Without wasting a second, Kim tore off down the corridor, not caring if any teachers saw him or he got into trouble. It didn’t matter to him that he was still in his pyjamas, or that he hadn’t even done his hair nicely yet. He didn’t stop running until he had reached the thinking fountain, the place where he knew Max would be.

Sure enough, Max was sitting on the ground beside the fountain, curled up slightly. He didn’t even look at Kim, he just mumbled, “I thought you should know.”

Kim’s brain was still whirling so fast he could barely comprehend what was happening. Max had given him a Cupid gift, an actual real Cupid present. There was only one explanation – and yet it still seemed to impossible to take in.

“Max? Are you… are you in love with me?”

Max turned away. “Well I just… yes. Yes, I am. But really, I just thought I should tell you, and it’s… it’s not a big deal, and I love being your friend so p-please don’t worry… I just… thought maybe if I tell you then I’ll finally get over it… and I j-just want you to know that I think y-you’re amazing… and…”

He couldn’t go on, not now that his voice was cracking and there were tears running down his cheeks.

So it was true? This whole time, Max really had loved Kim back?

Seeing Max sitting there crying, it was just too much! Max being sad was too heartbreaking to bear. Without even stopping to think, Kim bent down and scooped him up into his arms, hugging him tight. All his nerves, all his fear, it had vanished. The only thing that mattered right now was Max.

“I love you too,” Kim said, surprised to find himself on the verge of tears too. Max was just looking up at him in shock, so he took a Cupid sticker out of his pocket and stuck it to the front of Max’s shirt.

“You… you like me?” Max still sounded shocked. He took his glasses off and wiped a few tears away from his eyes.

Kim nodded, feeling a great rush of adrenaline – not fear, but freedom. Love. Finally. He didn’t have to hide it any longer.

“I’ve kinda had a crush on you for a while now,” he said, grinning a little.

Max smiled a little too, before something between a sob and hiccup, followed by burying his face into Kim’s shoulder to cry a little more. Kim just ruffled his hair with one hand and pulled him a little closer with the other. He could feel a tear or two running down his own cheek too now.

“Oh Max…” He sighed, not even sure where to begin. There was so much he had been planning to say, but now it felt like words were unnecessary. “I guess my little Cupid sticker present for you is kinda lame compared with what you got me…”

He could feel Max giggling into his shoulder a little. “I got it from Adam, he told me to give it to you… he wanted us to get together…”

“I think everyone did.”

“True…”

Feeling almost dizzy, Kim crouched down to sit on the ground, still holding Max in his arms. His heart felt like it was going to burst.

“I was gonna tell you I liked you today, I can’t believe you beat me to it,” he muttered. “So I guess I’ll beat you to the important question: Max, do you um… wanna be my sweetheart?”

He could feel himself blushing now, the ridiculous lovey-dovey feelings getting the better of him. All he wanted to do was hold Max in his arms forever, never having to think about anything or anyone else ever again. Fu had told him at the oracle session that he would not be getting a girlfriend within the next year. Well… he had certainly been right about that.

Max pulled his tear-stained face away from Kim’s shirt, looking up at him with such a warm, lovestruck expression that Kim’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise. Max had never before looked at him with such obvious affection. It was beautiful.

“Kim, I would love to!”

Wow. So he finally had a sweetheart. An actual, real sweetheart. And not just anyone, but Prince Max! The greatest person in the world. Feeling overwhelmed, Kim just wrapped both arms around him and squeezed him tight. Everything just felt so perfect.

They must have sat there together for several minutes at least, the only sounds breaking the silence being their occasional laughter and the flowing fountain water. It was so peaceful, so wonderful, so… satisfying. Kim was not sure exactly when he had fallen for Max, and perhaps it didn’t matter, but it was long enough ago that finally knowing the truth that his love was reciprocated was the most heavenly feeling in the world.

Eventually he loosened his grip slightly, wondering if he was accidentally strangling his new sweetheart a bit. He leaned back and wiped a little tear off Max’s face with his thumb. Every movement, every tiny bit of physical contact – it was electric. Kim was sure the hairs on his arm must be standing up on end, and he didn’t even care.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” he mumbled.

“If I’m that cute then surely you won’t object to me taking you out for a picnic brunch today,” Max replied, a rather attractive smirk on his face all of a sudden. “It’s too cold out here but Master Fu doesn’t stay at school the whole year round so his room is free.”

Kim couldn’t even say anything for a few seconds. Max had just asked him on a date, and he was internally freaking out so much that he could barely move.

“I’ll take your stunned silence as a yes,” Max said, that smirk still there. Why were smirks so hot? Even on guys? Especially on Max?

Kim finally managed to say, “Yeah, that would be… amazing…”

“And I can’t wait to tell Alix about all this. She was helping me out, you know. She knew the whole time.”

That seemed to shock Kim’s brain into action.

“She KNEW?” he yelped. “She knew the whole time and she didn’t tell me?!”

“I made her swear not to.”

“But so did I! She was being winggirl for me, and I told her not to tell you, and…”

They both looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, before bursting into laughter.

“Oh, poor Alix…” Max managed to stop laughing first, now resting his head against Kim’s chest. “She must have been so annoyed at both of us.”

Kim scratched the back of his head, feeling like an idiot. “No wonder she was always telling me not to bother waiting for the Cupid Festival. She knew you’d say yes the whole time.”

“She really doesn’t like the Cupid Festival anyway. People rarely give friendship any amount of real importance on this day, and to her it matters a lot more than other things.”

“Don’t worry, Super Kim is on the case,” Kim said, trying to put on the most fabulous smirk he could and flexing his arm muscles slightly. Hearing Max’s surprised little intake of breath gave him a confidence boost like no other. “I already know exactly how to make it up to her.”

“Really? Because I had some ideas too. I know I’ve sort of been taking her for granted recently, so…”

“Yeah, same. But don’t worry. I have a plan. Here’s what we can do…”

Over in her dorm, Alix and her snake sat waiting. She kept checking her sceptre-phone, but still no message from either Kim or Max. How long were they going to take? She wanted to leave her room already!

But then again, did she? Today was the Cupid Festival, so maybe it would be better to avoid everyone.

There was a knock at her door. She opened it to see Kim there, grinning at her and holding something behind his back. Well, if he was grinning then that was a good sign, right?

“How did things go with–”

“Shush!” he said, putting a hand over her mouth before she could finish. “Before I tell you anything I have to do something, so go sit down and listen and be quiet. And don’t laugh.”

Don’t laugh? Why was all of that sounding… familiar?

She sat on her desk chair and waited, slightly apprehensive. What on earth was this idiot up to now?

Kim pulled what looked like a guitar out from behind him – wait. It wasn’t quite a guitar. And it looked very familiar. Could that be…?

It was. It was that instrument he had played her a song with last year on this day.

Oh jeez… he was going to play another song for her, wasn’t he? Yikes.

Sure enough, he began playing – but this time it sounded different. The song was so much more upbeat and catchy, as opposed to whatever heartfelt ballad he had been playing last year. To be fair, last year while listening she had indeed started to suspect that he had a crush on her, though she immediately dismissed that idea when he had told her it was a “generic friendship song”, or whatever he had said. If he had played this song instead, she would have just had no idea. This sounded almost like a pop song.

“Ta-da!” Kim said once he was done, a cheerful smile on his face. “You can applaud now!”

She clapped a few times, not really sure what to think.

“And this time it was actually a friendship song, I promise,” Kim continued, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket and thrusting it into her hands. “I made a translation and everything, look.”

She took a quick read of the paper. Sure enough, the lyrics were so… well… sweet. So platonic. And incredibly heartwarming. There were little yellow hearts drawn all around the edges of the page too.

Yellow… the colour of friendship.

She looked back up at him, about to say something, when he suddenly swept her fringe aside and stuck a little friendship sticker on her forehead.

“Happy Cupid Festival, Alix! I love you. No romo.”

No… romo…? That was the most hilarious phrase she had ever heard. About to say so, she stopped abruptly when she realized that her eyes were filling up with tears.

Her whole life, she had been waiting for someone to tell her they loved her on the day of the Cupid Festival. But not the way that everyone else always said it. She had wanted a friend to say it to her. And now it had really happened. Finally. Someone who didn’t love her any less, just because they weren’t in love with her. A true best friend.

She just stood up on the chair and hugged Kim, not trusting herself to say a word. He chuckled and ruffled her hair the way he always did. That really did not help stop the tears, couldn’t he just not do that, and go do something stupid and idiotic instead so she didn’t have to cry…

“Are you gonna say anything?” he asked.

There were a lot of things she wanted to say, but they were all way too cheesy. Instead she settled for muttering, “No romo is the best phrase ever and I’m gonna use it all the time.”

“It’s awesome, right? Max came up with that one.”

Max! Of course!

She let go of Kim and quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes. “How did things go with Max, then?”

Kim just carried on smiling, his expression not having changed at all. “Why don’t I take you to see him and you can ask him yourself?”

“Sure, but hang on a second.” She opened the cupboard and took out a bag. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“What’s in the bag?”

“You’ll see.”

“Alright…”

She followed him through the school corridors towards the oracle room. Kim explained along the way that Fu wasn’t actually at school most of the year, so his room was usually empty and available for use.

They arrived to see Max in the room, with a picnic blanket laid across the floor and a few plates of food on top of it. Max immediately rushed forwards to hug Alix and stick a friendship sticker on the side of her snake.

“Happy Cupid Festival!” he said brightly. “I’m sorry I’ve been taking you for granted so much recently, I want you to know that you’re my best friend and I care about you no matter what. And it’s thanks to your help that Kim and I actually did get together.”

So they were together now? Oh thank god, finally. More than anything else she was just relieved at this point. Those two had completely obliterated her willingness to be anyone’s winggirl ever again, thanks to how ridiculous they were.

“So are you two having a picnic date?” she asked.

“Actually,” Max said, “all three of us are. A friendship-date for you, and a Cupid-date for us.”

“We didn’t want to leave you out!” Kim added. “We promise not to be too sappy until you leave.”

“You’re very important to us.”

“You totally deserve to be appreciated on this day too.”

They were looking at her expectantly. Aware that her eyes were burning again, she put her hand into the bag and pulled out a few flowers.

“Um… these are for you. Just take them. Yellow roses symbolize friendship. And I know these are totally lame compared to this picnic you guys invited me to, but… you’re both… really… cool… so…”

Okay, she was crying a little. Forget it. She held out the flowers and looked away, not bothering to say anything else.

“Thank you,” Max said as he took half the flowers, with Kim taking the other half. “I didn’t know you knew flower language.”

“I don’t. I just learnt a bit so I could decorate that fountain place of yours properly for today.”

They stared at her. “…What?”

“The thinking fountain, as you guys call it? You must have been wondering where all those flowers came from. Well yeah, I did that. With some help.”

They glanced at each other nervously.

“Uh… I didn’t really notice,” Kim admitted.

“We were rather distracted,” Max added. “But I’m sure your decorations were lovely.”

“You didn’t notice? At all?”

They shook their heads.

After all that effort she’d gone to…

They really hadn’t noticed?

That was… just…

“That’s hilarious,” she whispered, before bursting into laughter. What idiots.

The picnic date really didn’t feel much different from any other time when they all hung out, and that was probably for the best. The snake had tied itself in a knot around Kim and Max’s arms, binding them together for a little while. Seriously – that snake must have been able to understand French perfectly well. There was no other explanation.

Eventually Alix and the snake left, Alix saying that now Kim and Max were free to be as “mushy” as they wanted in peace. Kim looked over at Max, wondering if he dared ask for a kiss, or would it perhaps be considered rushing things? He didn’t mind just being with Max, anyway. Simply being near him felt nice.

“I’m assuming you’re going to want to show off your new sweetheart to everyone who will listen,” Max said, stretching and then sitting back against the wall. “If so, feel free.”

“Really?” Kim certainly had wanted to do that, but he wasn’t sure if Max would like it or not.

“Of course. You know I like it when you compliment me, say nice things about me, all of that.”

Kim chuckled. “So when I had the flu and I was gushing at you loads about how cool you were, you must have been having the time of your life!”

“I certainly was!”

“How long have you liked me for, anyway?”

Max stopped to think for a few seconds. “Must be a few years now.”

“YEARS?! And you didn’t do anything about it?”

“You already had your own crushes. I was supporting those instead.”

Kim leaned forwards and pulled Max into a hug. He did that often, sure, but it felt different now. He was hugging his sweetheart. It felt good.

“You’re too good for me,” he said softly.

“Aww, Kim…”

“I know I’m totally super hot, but apart from that, what do you even see in me?”

“So many things!” Max said, pulling away enough to look at him in earnest. “You’re always trying your hardest at everything, and being supportive of me no matter what, and always striving to improve yourself! Not to mention how inspiring your energy and enthusiasm is, and how endearing it is to watch you jumping headfirst into everything you do, always putting in all your effort…”

Hearing Max say all this, it was like floating on a cloud. And he never wanted to come down.

“And how long have you liked me for?” Max asked, his gushing spree at an end.

“I don’t even know,” Kim admitted. “I noticed it just after the winter party, but it must have started before that. It’s kind of hard to tell.”

Max chuckled. “So you already liked me when I um… after that lacrosse match… kissed you on the cheek.”

“Oh yeah, that! I was so shocked I couldn’t move for like five whole minutes after that.”

“And so later on, when you did the same thing to me in return, you must have been flirting…” Max whacked himself on the forehead. “How did I manage to write that off as friendship?”

“It’s okay, I managed to convince myself it was all friendship too,” Kim admitted. “Though, to be fair, I did guess that you might have been into me. It was, uh, the thing during the last spring holidays. The… you know.”

He gestured vaguely at his chest, feeling too flustered to actually say it now. Max understood though, his eyes growing wide all of a sudden, before the smile returned to his face.

“Please don’t think your amazing athletic figure is the only reason I like you,” he said. “That’s just a bonus.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. And please don’t think I only like you ‘cause you’re smart. I like you for a whole lot more than that. You make me feel smart when you’re with me. And you’re super nice. And always there for me. And really, really cute. And…”

Kim broke off, blushing furiously. Complimenting Max usually came easily to him. However, complimenting Max in an obviously romantic sense was still quite new to him.

“When did you tell Alix that you liked me?” he asked instead, changing the subject.

“The morning after the winter party,” Max said.

“But wait… that’s when I told her too! She was actually there when I realized it in the first place!”

Max laughed again, such a sweet little laugh, like wind chimes in the breeze. “That must have been so frustrating for her.”

“And I think she’s wanted us to get together for a lot longer than that,” Kim continued, remembering something else. “Remember that one time when we were supposed to be doing work after the quarantine, and I won an arm wrestle against her for like the first time? Well later on she asked me if it was because of you, and uh… now that I think about it… she was definitely implying that she thought I had a crush on you… and I guess I did, without realizing…”

“You mean I can help you win arm wrestles?” Max asked. “I should go to duelling club to support you in that case. You’ll win all your matches!”

“It’s true though! When you’re around, it’s like I’m way smarter! I even started considering that maybe you had superpowers or something, being able to boost my focus and concentration and make me really clever, or something like that.”

Max took Kim’s hand in his own and held it tight. “I think that’s just called being in love.”

Kim was sure his entire face must be bright red. He fiddled with Max’s fingers – they were oddly small compared with his own. “I still think you have superpowers though…”

“Spider-removal superpowers?”

“Yeah… something like that.”

“Well, if there’s a superpower that you have, it must be the superpower of being supportive. I don’t think you’ve ever said anything mean to me for as long as we’ve known each other.”

“You’re a nerd,” Kim said, grinning.

“That’s not mean!”

“Okay, okay… you’re… a… cool person. Ugh, I can’t do this.”

Max laughed. “Exactly!”

Oh, he was just so cute. Kim’s brain was starting to spin in circles from being so close to Max for so long. There was no other feeling in the world quite like it.

“By the way,” Max said, “I have another guess about what happened in that lift. Did you spend the entire time boring Alix to death by gushing about how amazing I am?”

Hmm… not too bad.

“Not for the entire time,” Kim said. “I did talk about you for a while, yeah. But that’s not the main thing that happened, the cool thing.”

“And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Nope. It was the awesomest thing ever and I so totally would tell you, but me and Alix made a blood pact to never tell anyone unless they managed to guess. That was how awesome it was.”

“A blood pact?! What on earth is that?”

“Um, we weren’t sure actually but the idea sounded cool, so uh… let’s just say, a pinkie-promise mixed with a papercut, except using one of the tips of the snake’s fangs instead of paper. Therefore the pinkie-promise is now forever binding.”

Max shook his head in disbelief. “Well, it’s a good thing queen cobras don’t actually store their venom in their fangs…”

“Of course they don’t, you’ve taught me that before. I remember.”

“You do?” Max looked up at him with that adorable, lovestruck expression again. He really didn’t seem to be hiding his crush at all now. “Oh Kim, you always take everything I say to heart… you’re ever so sweet…”

Alright, maybe Max wasn’t the only one looking lovestruck. Kim himself wasn’t bothering to hide his admiration anymore, and it must have been showing on his face. Things were just going so well today. Like out of a dream, or a fairy tale. Max had only been his sweetheart for a few hours at this point but those few hours had already been precious. What were things going to be like in the future?

He squeezed Max’s fingers tight, smiling encouragingly, not really sure what to say now. Kisses were on his mind all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure if he should go there yet or not. He’d never actually kissed someone while in a relationship with them. Well, he had never even had a relationship in the first place. Everything was a bit new for him. And he didn’t have much to go off, either – Max was a boy! Not that his heart noticed the difference.

“Do you think we should clear up the picnic now?” Max asked, bringing a halt to Kim’s train of thought.

“Sure,” he replied, ignoring his heart sinking a little. There would be time for all the romantic stuff later. Plenty of time.

They stood up and helped each other pack away all the leftover food and fold up the blanket, along with putting the friendship flowers in a bag to store for now.

“Thank you so much for organizing this picnic, it was awesome,” Kim said once they were done. He did the usual thing – hugged Max tightly enough to lift him off the ground for a few seconds. This time, though, he was sure Max was hugging him back tighter than normal. Much tighter than normal. He had to remind himself to breathe.

He put Max down and dropped his arms, but Max didn’t seem to quite let go of him. He was looking rather flustered all of a sudden, his face tinged red with a nervous smile on it.

“Kim?”

“Yeah? You alright?”

Max nodded. “I just… um… it’s a bit silly maybe. But…” He took a deep breath. “I have never actually kissed anyone before. And, well, I suppose I’m curious. And I’ve kind of wanted to kiss you for quite a while now. So, if it’s alright… can I kiss you?”

Kim just stared for several seconds. He was hyperaware of Max’s arms resting on his shoulders, his face just a few centimetres away. Time itself seemed to be slowing down.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding slightly. He’d kissed people before, right? He knew what he was doing…

But no, he didn’t. He just didn’t. Everything felt so different this time. He was so head-over-heels for Max, he just didn’t even know where to start. This was nothing like an awkward mistletoe kiss, or a quick surprise one, or a meaningless make-out session at a winter party. This was a proper kiss.

Max stepped up onto Kim’s feet and put his arms around his neck. He seemed to be shaking slightly – was he nervous? He must be. Kim was too. He put his arms around that fluffy green jacket of Max’s and pulled him a little closer, trying not to feel too overwhelmed. It seemed like time was slowing down even more around them, pulling the universe closer and closer to complete tranquillity.

There was that soothing feeling again, that calming influence that Max seemed to have on him. Recently Kim had always been in too much of a crush-fuelled adrenaline state to notice it, but it was there, alright. And now it was washing over him, as he moved his face closer and closer to Max’s, it was filling every single atom of him, as he tilted his head aside slightly and half-closed his eyes, forgetting that anything or anyone else existed…

The kiss did not last particularly long, but Kim realized at the end of it that he and Max were holding onto each other much tighter than they had been at the start. He tried to clear his head – all he could think about was that kiss.

It had been so different – how had that happened? Like nothing he had ever experienced before. Time had been going so slow, every second felt like a thousand years. It was so… bewitching? Was that a word? It was the only thing that could even come close to describing it.

Max seemed to have had his eyes closed, and now he opened them. Huh – his glasses hadn’t got in the way at all. Kim had forgotten about that completely. And now Max was staring at him, his expression unreadable. Kim rested his forehead against his.

“So uh… how was that?”

For a few seconds Max just looked down, smiling, before saying, “I liked it.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

“But for the record, even if I hadn’t liked it, I would still like you.”

“That’s a relief to know.”

“And what about you? How did you find it?”

Kim grinned. “I think I absorbed some of your smartness. It was awesome.”

His phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. Still holding onto Max with one hand, he checked the message with the other. It was from Alix, of course.

Have you two kissed yet? If not I’m gonna push your faces together, honestly.

“Look at this message,” Kim laughed, showing Max. “She wanted me to kiss you at the Peace Ball, too.”

“Oh, the Peace Ball,” Max said, chuckling slightly. “I was very much thinking about kissing you there, but I sort of lost my courage…”

“Aw, it’s okay.” Kim turned their half-hug into a full hug. “I lost my courage that night too. But hey – it’s all worked out now.”

“Yes. Indeed it has.”

“You really mean the world to me, you know? I love you so much.”

Kim had told Max he loved him plenty of times before, of course he had. It felt so much more special now, though. Now that Max knew what he truly meant.

“I love you too,” Max replied. “Happy Cupid Festival, Kim.”

“Happy Cupid Festival, Max.”

[mlw10]

So... I Lied...

Here it is everyone, my first fanfic. Bear with me as I’m just getting started so things may be incredibly cliche and maybe not the best they could be, but honestly I’m just proud of myself for putting this out there. The HP community is so supportive and I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do that without all of the lovely people out there, so thank you :)

You can read it below or here.

Hope you enjoy!!!

Prologue

Small lights began floating in the air as the sun set, a dim brightness settling on the patio. Several of the tipsier guests swat at the lights as Sirius Black, best man extraordinaire, rose from the wedding party’s table.

Raising his glass, he began, “So… I lied…”

Remus stood abruptly, his chair squealing. “I was actually the initial liar!”

“Me too!” hiccupped Peter as he hastily stood to be included. Unfortunately, he also knocked over the champagne glass of the woman sitting to his right.

Sirius, mildly irritated that his two friends thought it fit to be a part of his moment, interrupted, “Excoooose me! This is my best man speech, and I would prefer it to be uninterrupted.”

Lily and James laughed, unsure as to where this speech was going. They knew it couldn’t be too awful since Sirius was a softy, but that also meant he could not handle his liquor and many sorts of things tended to spill out whenever he was slightly intoxicated.

“Fine, Sirius, be the drama queen. But please give me the credit I deserve in this story,” huffed Remus.

“Yes yes, Moony, will do will do. Now, on to the juicy bit: we, and by ‘we’ I mean me, Moony — there’s your credit, happy? — Wormy, Mar, and Mary, were far from oblivious to Lily and James’s burning desire to snog each other in a broom cupboard. In fact, we plotted the whole thing.” Sirius slid across the dance floor, and with a spin said, “Buckle up children! Reminisce with me.”

Chapter 1

This is ridiculous.

I can get over Evans.

Just don’t think about her hair. Or her eyes. The way they spark when she’s angry. How she pushes her hair out of her face as she makes last minute edits to her essays outside the classroom doors because she thought of something else she just has to add. When she rests her head on the table after a long day and watches the candle wax dripping down the side and time seems to slow down. How sometimes her sweater rides up a little on her back and there’s a spattering of freckles above her waistline…

No. You are James Fleamont Potter. Time to give up. It’s hopeless.

Hopeless. Hopeless. Hopeless.

James slammed shut Moste Potente Potions in frustration, earning a glare from Madame Pince. Ignoring her, he let his head slide down from his hand until it banged on the table.

“Shhhh!”

With a sigh, James looked up, glared back at Madame Pince, and noticed Marlene McKinnon, one of his Gryffindor quidditch teammates, enter the library. Spotting James, she gave him a wave and plopped herself down in the seat across from him.

“Are you done with that book? I need to use it for Slughorn’s essay. I can’t believe he’s asked for three feet of parchment on one ingredient! How does studying one component of the Polyjuice Potion have any bearing on our understanding of the entire potion? I mean, I suppose that the presentations will help wi—”

“Mar, you’re rambling.”

“Oh, sorry! It’s just this essay has been driving me insane for the past few of weeks, and now that I’ve procrastinated it to the final week, I’m freaked. Lily is supposed to come help me if you’d like to stay for a bit.”

James started at Lily’s name, standing abruptly.

“Nope, I’ve gotta dash!”

"Wait!" yelled Marlene, immediately realizing her loud mistake as Madame Pince sprang into action in her peripheral vision. Marlene quickly got to work behind a pile of books to appease the strict librarian (and hide from her).

It was odd, thought Marlene, that James had run so quickly before Lily got here. Usually he took advantage of every opportunity to chat up her best friend...

I’m fine. Not freaking out. Should I put on the cloak? Nah, that’s a bit overkill, don’t you think, James? If I’m going to get over Evans, I have to at least be able to pass her in the corridor like a normal person. Besides, we’re heads together, I do it all the time. It's agonizing, yes, but doable. Deep breaths. Maybe walk a little faster…

James turned the corner and ran up the stairs, fervently praying that he wouldn’t run into a particular redhead. Once he was in front of the Fat Lady, he breathed a sigh of relief and dashed through the portrait hole after mumbling the password. Refusing to glance around the common room, he continued up the stairs to the dormitory — failing to ignore the flash of red in the far corner of the room.

James swept into the dorm and ran his finger nervously through his hair. “So… I lied…”

James Potter’s two (of three) best friends looked away from their respective tasks — Remus from his Charms paper, and Sirius from staring at the ceiling.

Sirius was the first to respond, “We know, Prongs.”

After a beat, Sirius spoke again. “Uh about what, exactly?”

“Evans,” said James.

“Oh, right!” laughed Sirius. “Well, you can’t just expect us to believe that you’ve suddenly gotten over Evans.”

“But I tried so hard!” cried James. “She despises me. I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong, you know? I thought I ‘matured.’ That being Head Boy would give me a chance to prove it to her. But no. She’s determined to hate me forever.”

James sighed and fell onto his bed, whacking his head on the headboard in the process. Wincing, he turned to his friends. “You’ve got to help me. Evans is a lost cause and one way or another, it’s about time I moved on.”

Remus slowly closed his book, nodding, and finally spoke. “So, we need a plan.”

“Agreed.”

“When’s the next Hogsmeade visit?” questioned Remus.

“Next weekend.”

Sirius shot a piece a balled-up parchment at James. “Aw what a good head boy, knowing all the Hogsmeade dates, staying on top of his homewo—“

Throwing it back, James glared at Sirius. “Shut it, Snuffles.”

“Now now that’s not very nice.”

“Well, you can shove your snide remarks up your arse.”

At that moment, Peter slumped through the door, dropping his book bag. “What are we talking about? New prank?”

“Pffft, I wish. Prongsie here is in the process of getting over Evans,” said Sirius, leaning back in his chair with the classic Sirius smirk on his face that James wanted to smack off him.

Peter laughed. “Not possible.”

“Oy! Is too! Moony has a plan!” James couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did his friends have no faith in him? He supposed that the past five years of pining after Evans didn’t help his case, but he was determined to move on. Hateful banter was one thing, humiliating insults and a vow to date the giant squid before him even if he was the last man on earth was an entirely different thing.

Remus sighed, “All I did was ask when the next Hogsmeade was.”

“But you were on to something!”

“It’s not exactly a radical idea, mate. Just ask another girl to Hogsmeade. Get used to dating other people and get Lily off your mind.”

James nodded thoughtfully and pulled Remus into a hug. “Moony, that’s brilliant.”

Remus groaned at the unexpected embrace. “Like I said, not a radical idea.”

“Well, we know Prongsie isn’t the brightest of the bunch. Had a crush on the same girl for the past five years, dontchaknow.”

After letting go of Remus, James — noticing how close Sirius’s chair was to falling over — decided to give it a little push for all the snide comments.

Sirius’s face flashed in horror as he felt himself fall to the floor with a bang. James snorted, Sirius glared. “You’re going to regret that, Prongs”

“Hah! Not likely, Padfoot. The look on your face was priceless.”

Sirius lunged for James, tackling him to the ground. Neither Remus nor Peter interfered, used to at least one brotherly wrestling match a week. Instead, they sat on Remus’s bed and cracked open the Honeydukes hoard, waiting for the spat to end.

After a couple of minutes, Sirius’s head popped up. “Fine, Prongs, you win this time, but only because I pity you.”

“Wow. How sincere Padfoot.” While his voice portrayed annoyance, there was a shine in his eyes as he put his glasses on — he could never hold a grudge against his best mate.

“Wormtail, pass me one of those Honeydukes sweets you’ve been hoarding. James just broke my back.”

Throwing one over to Sirius, Peter took several more for himself and turned to James. “Now back to our original discussion: who are you going to ask?”

“No idea, Wormtail, but James Fleamont Potter is officially on the prowl!”

“Prongs, never ever say that in front of a girl. She will run in the other direction.”

James pranced back to the middle of the room after grabbing his own chocolate and pulled Sirius into a headlock. “I beg to differ, Snuffles. Have you seen my good looks?”

Sirius laughed, “Please, they definitely don’t even compare to mine.”

“Should we take a poll?” challenged James.

Smirking, James released Sirius from the headlock and the two of them faced Remus, still stuffing his face with Chocolate Frogs.

“We already know I’ll win, there’s no point, right, Moony?” said Sirius.

“Please leave me out of this.”

“Mooooonyyyyyyyy.”

“Moooonyyyy, you can’t back out.”

“You are both equally handsome,” said Remus as he rolled his eyes. His friends were absolutely ridiculous.

Sirius and James stared at each other with furrowed brows as if a staring contest would determine who was the most eligible bachelor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (if you must know, the female population of Hogwarts was evenly split). After some time, Peter interrupted the staring contest to inquire as to when they would be heading down for dinner, at which point the three other boys realized how hungry they were and set out for the Great Hall immediately.