#the immediate recovery like she didn’t just embarrass her entire family

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

UNFLABBALE, STUNNING, SHOWSTOPPING, UNSTOPPABLE, CHRONICALLY STUPID

GET THAT BAG QUEEN!

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's

finally posting writing here so true

n e ways okay so i’m brainrotting about the genshin charas taking care of their s/o’s when they’re sick 🥺 and now i'm feeling sick, sigh

ohm and sulien ambros belong to @teyvattherapist! they're such good chara's, i know i'm writing them here but i deffo recommend reading up on them

okay here u go, have some hc's that are kinda sorta long and by that i mean 2.5k- i haven't proofread this bc it's 4am and im going to BED but if i write for any other chara's i'll post a second part <3 mwah

tags: gn!reader, diluc x reader, kaeya x reader, jean x reader, lisa x reader, albedo x reader, dainsleif x reader, tartaglia x reader, ohm ambros x reader, sulien ambros x reader, soft bean hours

diluc

is not working or traveling when his partner is sick

absolutely makes them soup and hot tea and drinks

he’s trying to make them food but he’s not the best cook so he’s asking adelinde for help

absolutely asks jean, barbara, and ohm for help while his partner is sleeping but he’s so awkward LMAO

was absolutely frantic the first day he found out his partner was sick tho, he made them come over to the winery so they could sleep there and he can take care of them <3

absolutely lied about what room was his so they slept in his bed

“hmm this guest room is so furnished diluc are all your rooms like this” and no, no they are not, this room is his, bestie

diluc slept on a sofa in his bedroom and did work on the table that was supposed to be for flowers. kinda stressed over abyss order locations but was more worried ab his partner being okay so he was distracted

he just put the flowers on his nightstand for his partner to see when they woke up <3

gives his partner forehead kisses because they won’t let him kiss them on the lips and he gives them the gentlest cheek kisses while they sleep

also gives his partner his clothes to wear <3

cuddles them and reads to them when they’re awake and TEMPLE KISSES OH MY GOD

kaeya comes over because he’s worried his brother and his brother’s s/o haven’t been seen in a little while

n e way, diluc gets sick after his partner gets better and they nursed each other back to health

kaeya

like diluc, he took off work so he could take care of his s/o i,mediately after he found out they were sick

wouldn’t force them to stay at his place tho, he’d probably let them recover in their own place

but he might make them go to the kof hq or the cathedral just so they can be taken care of by a proper healer

he absolutely soothes their fevers and stuff w cryo and also the man can heal himself w his elem skill ofc he can fix someone if he tries hard enough <3

he gives kisses no matter how much his partner says not to but he’ll also give them butterfly kisses so it’s soft moments too~ sigh, ur too cute alberich

asks ohm and barbara and albedo and lisa for potions and such to help his partner feel better but he’s really lowkey so he doesn’t seem SUPER worried

he just hates seeing his partner not feeling so well </3

refreshes his partner’s vase of flowers at their bedside every day

brings home work so he can watch over his partner. he can’t cook super well either so he asks for help and brings stuff home from good hunter too

jean was okay to let kaeya off of work and diluc would never admit it (man practically swore everyone to secrecy smh) but he helped take up some of kaeya’s duties in his stead

and kae, the alcoholic, didn’t even drink while his partner was sick bc he was lowkey worried they would need his help w smth and he didn’t want to be drunk just in case <3

many cuddles despite protests of getting him sick <3

jean

absolutely uses her healer skills to make her partner feel better

panicked when they were still sick and thought it was her fault </3 she asked barbara and ohm for help and they just told jean to relax a bit bc her partner was sick and it wasn’t going to be a quick fix

wanted to take off work but didn’t, so she just brought her work with her

kaeya and ohm very kindly took up her other duties where she had to leave so she could be w her partner

her partner is staying in the kof hq where they get access to ohm and barbara comes to visit <3 but also so that jean can sleep comfortably enough close by bc you cannot tell me this woman does not sometimes sleep in her office or the library and barely makes it to the kof dormitories sometimes

she’s so worried the entire time, she’s probably got a few gray hairs and a new frown line smh

she has clothes that aren’t her work clothes???? it’s so foreign seeing her in stuff like pajamas. you didn’t even know jean owned pajamas

jean sets them up in her bed at home (yeah she has a place outside of the kof hq??? it’s surprising) but it’s a big bed so they can rest and she’ll have the lamp on her side on while she sits up and does work

absolutely dotes on them. she’s good at making foods that make them feel better, she’s just a good healer that way <3

albedo, klee, venti, kaeya, lisa, and ohm all come over to check on jean and co and make sure everyone is doing okay <3 lots of food brought

if jean was asked to sing to her partner normally, she probably wouldn’t bc she’d probably get embarrassed but i think she probably sounds v good and venti would give her his lyre to try out a musical instrument too. but also she’d read to her partner and they’d probably fall asleep together uwu

lisa

works part time hours at the library so she can go visit her s/o

probably asks them to stay at the kof hq for easier access to medical assistance and plus she’s almost always there

“cutie” but worried and very 🥺 (pleading emoji)

makes soup and potions and reads to her partner until they fall asleep

also super playful omg she’s still got a smile on and is full of affection while she walks her fingers up her partner’s arm to their face so she can cup their cheek

she’ll make her partner laugh and smile and blush even when they’re sick, but she makes them laugh until they cough sometimes and immediately feels so bad

jean, barbara, kaeya, albedo and ohm all come to visit with different foods and soups and medicines and such

klee comes knocking and gives lisa some good fisherman’s toast and asks lisa’s s/o if they want to hug dodoco b/c that always makes klee feel better

purple roses galore, lisa has them in her partner’s room and they’ve got a potion to make the. uh. sniffer? to make the sniffer feel better. don’t ask me how, idk but she would find a way to make them physically feel better with flowers

reads to her partner ofc, and she tells them stories ab her own life and time at sumeru sans the crazies

worried looks when her s/o is sleeping but also the softest smiles when they wake up pls-

albedo

cutest lil frown on his face when he finds out his partner is sick

immediately they are taken home and he’s testing to confirm what’s wrong w them and what he can do to speed up their recovery

he’s more distracted than usual at work but he’s coming over to your place all the time w what paperwork he can do

also sketches his partner while they don’t know. he’s got lots of beautiful candids of his partner sleeping, looking out the window, falling asleep, reading, even drinking water. he’s made the most mundane things look captivating

kaeya and ohm come to check on albedo when he doesn’t show up for work after a few days and it’s bc he’s taking care of his s/o with food and soup and alchemical potions and shit. and when kae and ohm come in, they find his partner opening the door wrapped in a blanket while albedo is asleep cuddling the pillow they left bc he stayed up the night before making soup and reading to them

klee has camped out on his partner’s couch, she helps w the cooking too~ she absolutely lets them hug dodoco and gives them a treasure to feel better too LOL

many kisses from klee and albedo, and they also go out to get treats for albedo’s partner too

domestic albedo cooking in his partner’s kitchen and for once it isn’t some alchemical potion that he might blow up the stove with

tartaglia

takes off work entirely but BOY OH BOY is he stir crazy smh

brings his partner to his apartment to rest <3

he’s so worried ab his s/o that he makes all the sick ppl food the first day, orders from wanmin restaurant when his partner wants smth different, and also gets toys and such to entertain them otherwise

also reads to his partner but, again, he gets stir crazy after a while

absolutely does workouts and katas in the living room and phew shirtless tartaglia working out? gets the heart rate up for sure ahem

rushes to his partner tho omg- need soup? water? a trip to the bathroom? another blanket? he goes to them the MOMENT he hears them moving around. absolutely dotes on them <3

his family knows ab his partner and he’s probably written letters ab them being sick~ his family sent snezhnayan herbs and flowers and medicines and such

zhongli comes around because he wants sugar daddy!tartaglia with tea and medicine from bubu pharmacy. hu tao is in tow with well wishes and a “hope i don’t find you at work!” which is. a little worrying because aren’t you just a little sick-

many kisses from tartaglia because he is Needy and he’ll absolutely get sick from cuddling his partner while they sleep

also he’ll probably just like. envelop his partner while they sleep. they’re all cuddled into him and he’s actually so warm it’s nice bc they’re cold w a fever and he’s living for comforting them

he’s so worried tho, he’s got the frowny face and he’s so adorable but he just doesn’t want his partner to feel sick

dainsleif

the man camps in ruins, he’s going to his partner’s house smh

he doesn’t go into the church either LOL so expect him in his partner’s home making dinner and doing their grocery shopping thanks

he would get ohm and barbara to come over tho <3 “fix them please” but also “how can i fix them”

is so dead set on making sure his partner takes their medicine at the right times, he’s so soft for them and them alone

cooks soup and old recipes he barely remembers from khaenri’ah. he doesn’t really get sick, so he doesn’t remember these ones too clearly. deffo brings back old memories he’d long forgotten

reads to his partner and tells them old stories of how the world used to be, his travels, gives them the gossip on a certain khaenri’ahn but doesn’t give away the name

ohm comes over with medicine and lollipops bc dain is so unlikely to go to the cathedral to get barbara smh

but also dain, so self-sufficient, is unlikely to want to ask for help, so ohm just goes to help anyway

dain with the old khaenri’ahn lullabies and tucking his partner into his arms and singing quietly while he holds them and rocks them to sleep

dain is immortal, he’s giving his partner kisses bc “i’m immortal, ofc i won’t get sick”

he got sick

but his s/o nursed him back to health and then there were smooches the end

ohm ambros

the doctor with his ill lover oh my god

he’s frowny, he’s taking care of his partner at his home in springvale and his home clinic is open to everyone else. but everyone knows his partner is the first priority LOL

kaeya and albedo come over to see if ohm is okay or if his house needs to be checked up on. they’re wondering if he went on a last-minute expedition to sumeru and didnt tell them

diluc comes over too, he’s just checking up on his best friend but he’s also stealing a cherry lollipop smh. he heard from kae that ohm’s partner is sick tho, so he brings some soup and good food over from adelinde. he also brings some of his own specialty food tho, the once upon a time in mondstadt <3

sulien sending letters to his big brother to see if his brother’s s/o is okay

ohm is also just super protective of his partner, there are not many people who come into his life who he loves and lets in in the first place. he’s absolutely trying to heal them with his own vitality, so their recovery is much shorter than initially expected

barbara also comes over w jean to check up on ohm and co, complete w a goody basket of soup, a teddy bear, flowers, and books

ohm reading to his partner <3 he’s got such a soothing voice even if his accent is wack LMAO. he’s reading stories and even his paperwork because just his presence is comforting

he puts his hands on his partner’s forehead to soothe the fever goodbye

ohm will not sing for his s/o simply bc he doesn’t think he sounds v good. and he probably doesn’t but it would be so cute to hear him try and please ohm? 🥺

n e way i want smooches idc if i’m sick KISS ME OHM AMBROS

sulien ambros

when he finds out his partner is sick, the man blinks like twice and then suggests so calmly that they go to his apartment in liyue

man does not sleep normally, he’s just going to nurse his partner back to health and read during their recovery. fruit tart can cover his duties for him <3

sulien cooks for his partner tho, he’s making soup and stuff and getting medicine from bubu’s pharmacy. he’s also picking up books on the way home but some of them are to be read to his partner so it’s okay-

like tartaglia, sulien works out while his partner rests and goes to them if he hears them moving around. he’s reading to his partner and not so frowny, but the slightest furrow of this man’s brow is already such a big expression of his concern <3

sends letters to ohm asking for advice ab how to help his partner feel better. ohm just sends a letter back with “i’m coming” and shows up within the day LMAO

reads to his partner, and the monotony of his voice is soothing and lulls them to sleep. he just looks at them affectionately (well affectionate for him) and presses a kiss to their forehead before finishing the story on his own and in his head

tartagalicious comes over and brings food, flowers and a teddy bear with some of sandrone’s paperwork but he sends a smile to sulien’s partner with some well wishes

scara comes over too just to visit and check to see where sandrone is, but scara is a grumpy bean so he just says “feel better” all brooding and like it’s a command to one of the fatui subordinates LOL

sulien like ohm uses his cold hands to soothe his partner’s fever and also gives them forehead kisses <3

Edit: a link to part 2

[cuttoothed]

Fic for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt "Healing & Recovery". We've all been saying jmart need a lot of therapy after the finale, so...yeah.

Disclaimer: I have never been to couple's therapy. I have done some reading on it, but this is not intended in any way to accurately reflect real world therapy practices. Please just assume that anything "off" is due to the way couple's therapy is practiced in AU-land (though of course feel free to let me know if you spot anything egregious).

*

“Why don’t you start,” Judith suggests, “By telling me about the incident?”

The two men on the sofa give her identical startled looks, as if she’s uncovered something incriminating. Martin seems to regain his composure first; he clears his throat, and his hand moves to cover Jon’s, unconsciously protective.

“Sorry, wh-what do you mean by “incident”?”

“For most couples who come to see me, there’s an...inciting incident,” Judith explains. “Something that makes them realize they could use some professional support to work through things. Of course any couple can benefit from seeing a therapist together on occasion, to deal with small issues before they become big ones. But, well, it’s the same way that everyone knows they should go for regular check ups with their GP rather than waiting until they actually get sick—it’s just not something most people get around to until they need it.”

She pauses to give them time to consider that, and after a moment Jon nods, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Right,” he says. “That’s, ah, I think that’s fair.”

“There are pretty strong extenuating circumstances, though,” Martin huffs defensively. “We didn’t exactly have the option for therapy in the a—wh-where we lived before.”

“It’s not intended as a criticism,” Judith tells him. “You’ve chosen to talk to a therapist, and that’s a big step—one that many people never take. You’re ahead of the curve, Martin.”

Martin looks mollified at that; he’s clearly a bit touchy about perceived criticisms of their relationship, and Judith doesn’t want to get him on the defensive. She gives them both an encouraging smile.

“So,” she says. “Is there an incident you’d like to talk about?”

The two of them look at each other expectantly, as if each is waiting for the other to start. After several long moments of silence, Jon raises his eyebrows meaningfully, and Martin sighs.

“Fine,” he says. “So, we, uh, we recently realized that our...garden was a-a bit of a mess. So we—Jon and I—we get together with our...housemates, to figure out what kind of flowers we should plant. Fuschias or—or hydrangeas. ”

He pauses to glance nervously at Jon, who gives him a reassuring nod, squeezing his hand.

Right, Judith thinks, This is probably not about flowers.

“We agree we all want fuschias,” Martin continues, “Except Jon—he wanted hydrangeas. But we took a vote, and it was fuschias.”

“Except of course most of our—our housemates weren’t there for that meeting,” Jon interjects, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yes, but we agreed we couldn’t wait to ask every single person,” Martin says sharply, back on the defensive. Jon’s brow furrows and his mouth opens as if to say something, but he changes his mind and shuts it again. Conflict aversion is one of the most common dysfunctions Judith sees in the couples she treats; very few people want to disagree with the person they love, and even fewer know how to have a constructive conflict. She makes a mental note of it for later.

“Go ahead, Martin,’ she suggests gently. Martin looks unhappy, but continues.

“So we agree to plant the fuschias the next day, but Jon—Jon sneaks out in the middle of the night and starts, uh, planting hydrangeas. Without telling anyone.”

Without telling me, Judith hears in his hurt tone. Jon’s arms are still folded, and he’s almost squirming in his seat with the effort to not interject; Judith decides it’s a good time to invite him into the story.

“Jon, why did you feel so strongly about the hydrangeas?”

“It’s—it wasn’t that I wanted hydrangeas, I just couldn’t a-accept the idea of—of fuchsias.”

“Couldn’t allow it, you mean,” Martin grumbles. Judith lets it pass and continues to focus on Jon.

“Why is that?”

“They, uh, they spread…” Jon waves his hands vaguely. “Their—their...roots? They would get into the, uh, the neighbors’ gardens, completely take over, destroy everything.”

“Potentially,” Martin insists. “There was no guarantee—”

“There was no reason they wouldn’t,” Jon snaps.

By now Judith is not only sure that this has nothing to do with gardening, but suspects that neither of these men has ever seen a fuchsia in their lives. It’s fine, though. This is far from the first time a client has invented a story out of whole cloth so they can work through something uncomfortable without actually describing it. And this is their first session; Judith hopes in the future they’ll trust her enough to give her the real story.

“Remember,” she tells them. “We’re not here to decide that someone was objectively right or wrong, we’re here to help you understand each other and improve your communication skills.”

“Right,” Martin mutters, unconvinced. Jon’s expression is distressed, but he continues.

“There was no other choice,” he says wearily. “The only other option was—was azaleas, and I know you didn’t want that, Martin.”

“Absolutely not.” Martin sounds horrified. “But hydrangeas, Jon? Do you really think that was a better option?”

“You have to see the difference.” Jon’s tone goes stiff and incredulous, as if he’s winding up for a lecture, and Judith decides to cut that off before it starts.

“So what I’m hearing,” she says, “Is that you both had very strong, conflicting opinions on this topic. And that’s okay—it’s okay for you to disagree, even on something important. You’re not always going to agree on what the right thing to do is. Often there is no single “right thing,” so it comes down to how the different choices make us feel.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good way to make a decision that affects the wh—a lot of people.” Jon clearly considers that his opinion on not-flowers was the objectively correct one. Judith smiles.

“People aren’t computers, Jon. Even the most logical minded person in the world is influenced by their feelings—about important issues, about other people. You’d be surprised at how much of our decision making is rooted in emotion; either how we anticipate the outcome of our decision will make us feel, or how we are feeling in the immediate moment of the choice.”

A spasm of something that might be grief or pain flashes across Jon’s face, and he leans unconsciously in Martin’s direction. Martin’s arm instantly goes around him, offering comfort without thought. It’s clear that these two love each other deeply, unquestioningly—and that’s also part of the problem. When someone you love thinks that you’re wrong about something that’s important to you, it can feel like a rejection of your entire self.

“I’d like to pause this discussion for now, and try a little exercise,” she says. Jon nods, sitting back up and disengaging from Martin’s embrace; Martin looks attentively at her, though his expression is unsure.

“One of the biggest challenges we face with people we love is recognizing that they are separate from us. I know—” she says, raising her hands to stop the objections she can already see forming on their lips. “Of course you know that you’re separate people. We all know that, rationally. But emotionally, it’s natural to see the people you’re close to as extensions of yourself—it’s an evolutionary impulse to aid group bonding. It happens with friends and family, and it’s an even stronger impulse between partners.

“We have to do a lot of work to truly internalize the idea that the people we love have their own inner emotional lives that drive their opinions and decisions. But once you are able to fully grasp that truth, it makes disagreeing with the person you love feel less emotionally fraught; it’s a powerful tool for navigating conflict constructively.”

Jon is frowning, but it’s in consideration rather than disapproval. Martin still looks skeptical, his body language defensive, though he doesn’t say anything. That’s probably the best she’s going to get for now, Judith thinks.

“So,” she says. “The exercise is this: I’d like each of you to take a few moments to think, and then tell the other person something about yourself. Not a fact, but something that you feel. And I would like you to listen without interrupting when your partner tells you their feeling. Can you each do that?”

“I, ah—” Jon’s frown deepens. “That’s...rather difficult to do on demand.”

“I know,” says Judith with sympathy. “That’s why I’m here, to support you both in doing the difficult things. If it was easy, you wouldn’t need a therapist to facilitate.”

“Right,” says Jon. “Okay.”

“Martin?”

“Fine,” he says, but his tone is reluctant. Judith gets it; vulnerability is hard enough in front of someone you love, never mind with a stranger in the room. It’s easier to pretend that it’s pointless, that you’re not really putting yourself out there to be hurt. She has the feeling that Martin is someone who would rather avoid being hurt, even if it means closing himself off.

“All right,” she says. “When you’re ready, Jon, would you mind going first? No rush, take all the time you need.” Hopefully, seeing Jon take the first step might help Martin get over some of his defensiveness.

“Oh,” he says, and for a few moments his expression devolves into one of intense concentration. Then he nods, turning towards Martin.

“Start with “I feel”,” Judith suggests.

“All right,” he says, breathless with nerves. “I, uh, I feel...responsible. For—well, for everything, basically. And for everyone. Bad things have happened to people, and it’s my fault, because I should have done something. Everything that happened, back there, it was all because of me.”

“It wasn’t you, Jon!” Martin protests. “Annabelle told us—”

Judith is about to remind him that he’s supposed to just be listening, but he cuts himself off first. Jon laughs, an ugly sound that’s more like a sob.

“And how is that supposed to help? Knowing that the—that they were using me my whole life, how does that absolve me of any responsibility for what I did? For the fact that I failed to do anything to stop them? I couldn’t even go through with the one thing that could have actually meant something, because—”

He clamps his mouth shut, his jaw locked tight; Martin looks down at his hands, his expression distraught.

“Because of me.”

“Martin—” Jon’s tone is wounded, and he reaches for Martin’s hand. Judith sees reflections of a shared pain in both their faces, though she doesn’t understand why; this would be a lot easier if they’d just tell her the truth.

But you didn’t get into this profession because it was easy, did you?

“Thank you for sharing that, Jon. I think there’s a lot more for us to explore there, but let’s give you a break and give Martin a chance to share, okay?”

Jon nods, clutching Martin’s hand in his. Martin gives a long, slow exhale.

“Righto,” he says with false, brittle cheer. “”I feel,” wasn’t it? Right. Jon, when you do something stupidly self-sacrificing for other people, I feel like everyone else is more important than me.”

Jon flinches.

“Martin,” Judith says, keeping her tone level. “Let’s keep the focus on what you feel, not on what causes you to feel that way, okay?”

“Right,” Martin mutters, and glances at Jon. “Okay. In that case, I feel...like I’m not important. Like the only thing I can really do is—is take care of you. And if I can’t even do that, then what bloody use am I? That’s it, I suppose.”

“Martin…” Jon says again, softly. His eyes are wet, and he’s clinging to Martin’s hand like a drowning man to a plank. Martin swallows hard and shakes his head, but he makes no move to extract his hand from Jon’s grip.

“Thank you, Martin,” Judith tells him. “I know that wasn’t easy to share, for either of you. But this is the kind of honesty that we need, in order to build strong communication. Let’s all take five minutes—if either of you want to take a bathroom break, or get some water—and then we can talk about where to go from here. All right?”

Martin disappears to the loo, while Jon wanders around the office, looking with polite interest at the shelves of books and ornaments. Judith writes a few notes for herself, to follow up in future sessions. She hopes there’ll be future sessions. Both of these men seem deeply hurt, traumatized by events that they’re just barely alluding to, and have clearly been struggling through as best they can with less than ideal coping mechanisms, trying—and likely failing—not to hurt each other in the process. They both need individual counselling as much as couples’ therapy—maybe more. She’s certainly going to recommend it..

They clearly love each other, though. And they want to make it work. If they’re willing to put the effort in, they have better than even odds in their favor.

Martin’s eyes are red-rimmed when he returns; he sits on the sofa as near as he can to Jon, who presses their shoulders together. Judith can’t help smiling at the sight.

“How long have the two of you been together?” she asks. She always asks new clients at the end of the first session, rather than at the beginning; that way she can get a feel for the relationship without preconceptions based on longevity. The two of them look at each other properly, for the first time since Martin came back in, and matching, sheepish smiles break out on both their faces after a moment.

“So it was three weeks in Scotland,” Martin begins, ticking it off on his fingers. “And then—how long?”

“Uhh, it’s...let’s say half a year, give or take?” Jon makes a face that says he’s really not all that sure.

“Right, and then we’ve been here nearly six months. So...about a year, all in all?”

“But we knew each other for over three years before that,” Jon insists earnestly.

“It sounds as if the two of you have been through a lot,” says Judith. “And not all of it gardening related?”

“No,” Jon says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Mostly not.”

“We barely scratched the surface today—and that’s normal. Relationships are complicated, and it takes a lot of time and hard work to build understanding and communication. But I promise you, it is worth all the effort. You both made a really strong start today—it takes courage to be that honest, even with your partner.”

The two of them give each other a long look, and the smile they trade is tentative, but genuine. They haven’t solved anything today, have only just begun to reveal their hurt and their insecurities; they have a long journey ahead to get to a truly honest, healthy place both for themselves and their relationship. Judith has a feeling they’ll persevere, though—that losing each other simply isn’t an option.

“So,” she says, “Should we make this a recurring appointment?”

Jon glances questioningly at Martin, who bites his lip and then nods firmly, taking Jon’s hand in his.

“Yeah,” Martin says. “We’ve done much harder things. We can do this.”

“Together?” says Jon, and Martin smiles.

“No matter what.”

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」

You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.

"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.

She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.

While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.

”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.

”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.

Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.

Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.

"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.

With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.

You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.

“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.

”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.

Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.

"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.

"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.

"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.

"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.

"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.

”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.

"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.

"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.

"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.

"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.

"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.

"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.

"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.

"Mommy used to pull my hair too."

You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.

"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.

”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.

"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.

"Everyone is joining right?"

There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.

"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.

"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.

"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.

Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.

"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.

Why does he agree to the stupidest things?

Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[damnzawa]

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

[anotheranimestan]

Sweet Intoxication

Tamaki fans!! Come get yo juice!

Tamaki fluff with a lil spice (just a lil)

wc: 3.2k

I can’t be the only one who thinks the Suneater is 🤤 I could write about him for days

Being UA High’s #4 ranked third year, it’s no surprise you’d created a great friendship with the Big Three. You were particularly close with the group’s resident “kitten” as Nejire liked to call him. You met during your first year when you were sat next to each other during class. He was so shy and wouldn’t talk to anyone except Mirio, even despite your many attempts at making conversation.

Until one day, you hurt yourself during practical training and he offered to walk you to the nurses office (much to everyone’s surprise). The entire time he was dead silent with a look of pure embarrassment across his face since you had to cling to him to walk. Once he dropped you off you expected him to leave while Recovery Girl fixed you up. But when you exited the office, there he was. Sitting on the floor waiting for you, his face riddle with concern.

When he spotted you his eyes lit up. “So um-are you okay y/n?”

It was the first time you got to hear his soft voice so clearly. It made your heart swell. You knew right then you wanted to keep him.

Ever after that moment you two stayed close and kept an eye on each other. He was still timid at first but over the years it blossomed into an air-tight friendship. You were practically apart of the Amajiki family after the amount of dinners you had with them. Not a day went by that you two didn’t walk home from school together.

That is until today. You see, during lunch Nejire let it slip that Tamaki had a crush on you when she thought you couldn’t hear. Little did she know you were standing right behind her as you approached the lunch table.

You were so caught off guard and your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with your best friend. His face was pure horrid humiliation. Mirio desperately tried to make light of the situation and pretend it was all a joke but the damage had already been done.

Tamaki immediately fled the cafeteria, knocking over a few first years on his way out.

You were still frozen in place trying to process what was happening. You definitely didn’t expect him to have a crush on anyone, let alone you. He never talked about romantic interests like that. And considering he tells you almost everything on his mind you’d think you’d have some sort of inkling about this.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by the horrible thought of how much of a hit to Tamaki’s self-confidence this probably was. He’d become so much stronger and more social. You couldn’t let all his hard work get reversed.

You chased after him but he was gone. Disappeared off the face of the planet for the rest of the day.

You were worried sick and couldn’t think about anything else but finding him.

As soon as the final bell rang you bolted for the Amajiki house. Of course his mother let you in with no hesitations and immediately informed you of his exact location (His room. Where else? That’s where he was always hiding). Although the suspicious look on her face told you that Tamaki’s condition must be bad. He probably came home early and locked himself away without a word. Not completely out of character, let’s be honest, but still it didn’t put you at ease.

You slowly approached his door trying to form some kind of plan to fix this. What was the best tactic though? Should you tell him? Tell him that you’ve secretly been crushing on him this whole time? Since that day at the nurse’s office when he held your hand for the first time? When his voice alone captured your heart. You were sick over the thought. You’d desperately tried to keep it a secret and hadn’t told anyone, even Nejire (for obvious reasons). You were scared that you’d scare him away with your feelings. You’d rather have him as a friend than nothing but that didn’t stop you from constantly dreaming of kissing him or holding hands again or cuddling every night while watching his favorite movies.

You didn’t have an exact plan but you desperately wanted him back so you had to try something. Anything.

The door was locked. You knocked as gently as possible. He was easy to scare.

“Tamaki? It’s me. Let me in.”

You heard a miserable groan from behind the door. “Please leave me alone to die.” He plead from inside. Always one for the dramatics. Something you secretly loved.

“Come on! You’re really going to lock me out like this? A bit dramatic don’t you think?” You insisted, slightly amused.

And just like that the lock clicked open. You let yourself in. It was dark except a little glowing ball lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated everything up with an indigo glow.

He was sitting on his bed against the wall, hugging his knees and burying his face.

You shut the door behind you and stood for a moment. You really just wanted to run over there and cuddle him. Tell him every reason you’re putty for him. But you didn’t want to push him. There was an art to dealing with a mopey Tamaki and you knew it well.

“So how long have you been sitting up here? I hope you at least finally ate some lunch.”

He peeked his head up at you. You were rustling a bag filled with his favorite snacks. You saved these in your locker for moments exactly like these.

Your heart fluttered when you saw those eyes you loved so much. Although his eyebrow were furrowed in embarrassment, still, he looked adorable as ever.

You took this moment as an opening and slowly approached, careful not to spook.

You took the spot directly in front of him. He’d still not managed to look you directly in the eyes.

“Sooo...” This is where you had no game plan left.

You finally had the chance to feel nervous now that you knew he was okay. Your heart started racing in your chest as the anxiety coursed through your body.

“This is the worst day of my life.” He concluded covering his face again with his hands.

You rolled your eyes. “I think there are worse things.”

“Like what?” He said like he was proving a point.

“Like...” You exhaled and gave your honest answer without thinking. “losing your best friend.”

He groaned again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, y/n!”

Your head tilted. “What?”

“I can never talk to you again now.” The pure teenage agony in his voice was ridiculous.

You giggled. “You’re talking to me right now, dummy.”

“And now you’re laughing at me.” He leaned his head back against the wall in distress.

You reached up and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it away from his face.

“I’ll be very offended if you stop talking to me.” You inform him with humor in your tone.

He looked down at you finally. You were breaking through.

“But...aren’t you weirded out?” He was grimacing at the horrible cafeteria memory that had been replaying nonstop in his mind.

You laughed.

“No more weirded out than usual.” You poke him in the stomach. He was aggressively ticklish so he jumped and grabbed your hand instinctively. Now you could see his whole face again and you were so relieved. You missed it.

His eyes were trained on your hands and he nervously played with your fingers. He did this a lot and it always sent butterflies flying in your stomach.

“You ran out the cafeteria so fast you didn’t even stay for my reaction. Also, those first years are gonna be looking for revenge tomorrow.”

He cracked a tiny smile.

“So...what is your reaction?”

The nerves were really electric now. You almost panicked. Were you really about to admit to your long time crush just how head over heels you were for him?

You were silent for a while which didn’t put Tamaki at ease. He was sure you were going to reject him. You were way out of his league. You were heavenly and pure beauty in his eyes. You could make him warm just by smiling at him that’s how much he loved your aura. How could you be into a loser like him. He could barely stand up straight next to you and the other members of the Big Three. You didn’t know it but right under the bed you sat on he had a hidden a sketch book filled with his drawings of you. Or at least attempts as he called them. He could never capture the curl of your eyelashes or the soft slope of your neck quite right. And the lips. They were always off. Yours had this perfect kissable quality to them that he wished he could experience rather than just draw onto paper.

His pining was interrupted by your sharp inhale as you began to answer. He looked at you under his thick lashes, dying to hear your response. It made your cheeks burn and the words get caught in your throat. Your mind must have overheated because it completely shut down and your body acted on its own.

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled his legs down from against his body and climbed onto him. You wrapped your arms and legs completely around his body like a teddy bear and squeezed him tight.

At first he was stunned but quickly recovered and hugged you back. Your hair was completely covering his face but it was comforting being indulged in your familiar scent of shampoo.

You two confided in each other for a long moment. No words could express what you were trying to say.

After a while you pulled back to look at him. Big mistake. The soft glow of the rich indigo light made him look dream-like. Suddenly you were picturing all the things you had been imagining doing with him...to him.

He wasn’t blind to the way you were staring at him. Blank eyes lost in thought and lips parted like they wanted something. You looked angelic. Sitting on his lap and holding him tight. You were exactly what he needed.

He knew this could be the moment he’d been waiting for all these years. But of course his usual anxiety was holding him back from experiencing you like he wanted. You were so so perfect. He couldn’t possibly...

Your brain switched on just for a moment to spill out a few incoherent words. “I want...this....you. I’ve been.”

Overwhelmed by your words he finally gave into his desires as his head dipped down into the nook of your neck. His lips hovered over your skin and you felt his hot breath ticking your sensitive spot. You wished he wasn’t so hesitant but you could also easily savor this moment forever. Tamaki was finally satisfying your craving for him.

Your hand rolled up gently into his silky hair and your eyes fluttered shut when he finally made contact.

His lips were so soft and molded perfectly into the curve of your neck. He slowly trailed around your collar bones and up to your ear.

Your face nuzzled into him as he tasted you.

His gentle touch made your heart swell and bespelled your body to curl into him more and more.

His tongue began grazing the tender skin he’d laid the ground work on. Dragging circles around your sweet spots and sealing them with kisses. His warm breath sending chills through your through your muscles.

The sweet rhythm of his breathing, his snug hold on your waist and the vibrating hums of enjoyment resounding in his chest...

He was mesmerizing. This little Suneater easily held you in a trance like it was nothing and without even knowing it. Your body was soft like dough, molding into him as you succumbed to his warmth. Your head had fallen limp to the side so he could access as much as he desired.

His voice was thick like honey as he shyly spoke into your ear. “You...taste really good.”

Your eyes were still locked shut, under hypnosis but a smile spread across your face.

“Does that mean one of your limbs is going to turn into me?” You said with a drunk little giggle.

He noticeably shrunk under your words. “Please don’t tease me. You’re making me so nervous already.” He cried desperately.

Your eyes finally cracked open to look at him properly. His face was wrapped in conflict and self-doubt as usual.

So many responses flashed through your mind but only one managed it’s way past your lips. There was truly only one thing you wanted to say anyways. “Can you kiss me please?”

You needed more of him, his previous performance already had you hooked and aching.

Red flush spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his pointy ears. His gaze fell under as he considered something. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I’m honestly surprised I’m even getting the chance.”

As if you weren’t already deep under his spell, his words managed to further melt you like butter.

His voice was dark velvet. A sharp contrast to his normal shaky tone. “I just want to ask...do you really like me?”

“Tamaki...forget like...I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

Your words slipped out of your mouth but it was like hearing them underwater. You were so detached from reality in this moment. Just pure bliss was conducting your movements while your mind was on hiatus.

His red washed face turned bashful as he tried to comprehend your words. He couldn’t stop a cute little grin from spreading across his face.

Before he could recover enough to verbally respond, your thumb placed itself on his bottom lip that was still lightly swollen from exploring your neck. The weight of your hand pulled it down to expose his pearly white bottom teeth.

This pouty look made him even more appealing, your mouth was practically watering at the handsome sight before you.

He acknowledged your hungry look as his invitation and his pouty lip puckered around the pad of your thumb. He placed kisses on each of your fingers and finally your knuckles before he pulled you close to him.

The movement wafted some of his cologne into your nose and just like that you were drunk on him again. He could have you.

His lips pressed into yours and it was like your whole world came to fruition. You realized then just how badly you’d wanted this. He trapped your bottom lip and gently sucked letting his tongue start it’s magic again.

Your arms contracted around his neck to pull him as close as possible and he respectively deepened his kiss.

He nibbled on your lip just enough for butterflies to start flapping around on your chest. Just when you think you’ve hit sensory overload he whips out something new. You already identified kissing him as your new addiction before your first kiss was even over.

His confidence was slowly building as he became more familiar with the curves of your mouth. Assessing exactly what you were liking by the barely audible gasps of euphoria you were making.

He strung you along for a while like this, each next move being more endearing than the last until finally he pulled away to give your lungs a chance to pull in some air. Obviously you didn’t want oxygen right now but at least you got to be intoxicated by some more of his scent.

“You’re so pretty.” He mused as his eyes glazed over your features. “And—and your lips are really soft.”

Suddenly a little self-consciousness washed over you. You weren’t used to his compliments like that. You accommodated this by nuzzling your face into his. Your lips were drawn to his cheek and you littered kissed all over, using your other hand to trace his jawline. He closed his eyes so he could focus on your touch. It was sending him over an edge having you on him like this. You felt his breathing deepen as you started gently sucking on the nook of his neck. Your hand fell and started exploring his chest. He didn’t look it but he was concealing muscle under his baggy shirts and you were dying to feel them.

Just when your teeth grazed the red blood pooled spot you’d been working on, a soft moan escaped his lips. He was lost under your control.

Without warning he shifted you down on your back with ease. Taking care to support your head as you fell onto the pillow.

He crawled on top of you between your legs and supported his weight on his forearms.

This sudden bold streak was really turning you on.

He spared no time as he tugged your shirt collar down just a bit to expose that sensitive part of your neck again that he just loved so much.

His tongue teased it with a few gentle circles before his mouth came down instense and started sucking.

Normally this sort of thing would hurt but you were so entranced that it only felt like a rush of intense pleasure. You ran your fingers through his hair encouraging him to do exactly what you suspected he was doing. You squirmed gently under his heavy body as he targeted your neck. Your hands slipped under his shirt and you got to feel the smooth skin over his broad back muscles which contracted as he moved.

Suddenly you let out a little squeal as the pleasure turned to a little shooting pain. He snapped out of it and brought his face back to yours. Nose to nose.

You glanced down at his work to see a little red bruise the size of a coin. For some reason you loved the idea of Tamaki giving you a little mark.

“Sorry y/n, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, his concerned face was so cute. It reminded you of that day so long ago when you first realized you wanted him.

“Put another one.” You said only half joking.

He laughed nervously. You took his face in both your hands. Today couldn’t have gone more perfectly.

“I didn’t reply before but...I want you too.” He mews with soft eyes.

Just when you think your body is completely melted, he finds one more spot he missed.

He placed a few more gentle honeyed kisses on your lips before anyone could say anything else.

But much to your dissatisfaction, you heard Mrs. Amajiki call for dinner. You were prepared to aggressively reject this interruption but Tamaki’s smile broke your resolve.

He tucked some hair behind your ear as he spoke again after what felt like hour had passed since the last time. “Can we do this again like...soon?”

He was aggressively adorable you could barely stand it. You merely nodded in response you couldn’t possibly form any coherent words right now.

You laid there, trying to unmelt yourself with little success. You could only gaze at your little Suneater with twinkling admiration in your eyes as he lifted you to stand up in his arms.

His new love bite was still exposed on your neck. He pulled your sweater up to cover it and kissed it through fabric as he muttered a few more quiet apologies. You immediately started thinking of ways you could try to permanently keep it on your skin.

You eventually walk down to dinner together holding hands, fingers interlocked. Yea...he was definitely your new addiction.

~~

Thanks for reading 🥰

[justsomeoneunordinary]

An “Assassin”

Day 2 of @winteriron-week: Assassin & Recovery

T, 2.3k, Crack, Humor, Sam Wilson Is a Little Shit and We Love Him for It, Background Sam/Nat, Team as Family, Bucky Is an Idiot in Love | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 3 / Day 4)

—

Muzzy is not a word Bucky thought he’d describe how he feels like with ever since he got injected with that bastardized version of the Super Soldier Serum. And yet it’s exactly how he’s doing after waking up and being blinded by the brightness all around him. A groan leaves his lips as he closes his eyes again.

Fucking hospitals and their stupid bright lights.

There’s a snort to his left, followed by a “Finally, you’re awake.”

Bucky slowly turns his head and blinks up at Sam who’s seated at the visitor’s chair, a grin plastered on his face, all shiny glinting teeth and tooth gap. The sole sight of the mischief in those black eyes is enough for his memories to come back.

And boy, do those hit harder than a truck on the highway.

“Oh man, that was hilarious.” Sam’s grin widens even more at that and Bucky can feel his cheeks heat up. “Can’t wait to tell the rest of the team what happened. I even got a video of it!”

Oh, hell no. Sam is already taking his phone out but before he can click on the video, Bucky shoots him an angry look and growls, “Don’t you even dare.”

He tries to get up in a sitting position, so he can throw a pillow for emphasis but with each movement the room spins even more and he loses orientation anew. Faintly, he feels a pain in each of his joints, but his head is too dizzy to register it properly. God, the last time he had been like this was in 1937 when he got high in the queer bar down the street of Steve’s and his apartment with that tiny guy from the neighborhood who knew to give one hell of a blowjob. 

“Sure. I already quiver in fear,” comes the deadpan reply.

What an ass. Not for the first time does he wish to kill Sam. Just a little bit. As a treat.

So, he pulls his winner card: “You tell anyone what happened and I tell Nat where you hid that strap-on of hers she’s been missing so much.”

Sam’s grin immediately falls at that, changing to an expression of pure outrage. “You son of a bitch.”

Hah, checkmate. Bucky still can’t feel any of his face muscles, so he doesn’t know if they’re doing the right thing, but he imagines he’s grinning smugly right now.

“Have you even seen that strap-on? That thing is deluxe! You wouldn’t want that up your ass either!”

No, Bucky had not seen it, and he’d like to leave it that way too, thank you very much. But knowing Natasha, he can only imagine what it must look like. She tells him much more about their sex life than he’d ever want to know. And he still doesn’t know why she tells him these things of all people, instead of Clint or Wanda or hell, even Tony (Tony would absolutely participate in any sex talk there is (Bucky wouldn’t say no to sex talk when Tony is involved in it)), but he suspects it’s her own way of hobby torture.

Sam wrinkles his nose while he gets up, flips him the bird and says, “Fine, you win.” Then he walks to the door and Bucky squints at him, because there’s no way it would be that easy, Sam would definitely want to have the last word—

“Good luck explaining to Tony what happened, because he’s waiting outside already,” Sam tells him while opening the door, winking at Bucky and leaving the room, his snickering still lingering in the halls outside.  

… Fuck.

Okay, he’s got like… ten seconds before Tony comes in, he can easily just climb out of the window and up to the roof. He just needs to get out of the bed which shouldn’t be a problem, broken bones or not, because he’s a high-profile assassin and—

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Busted.

“Trying to disappear before you can see me?”

Tony blinks at him and Bucky blinks right back, because seriously, what the fuck Barnes? He didn’t mean to say that, it just… slipped out.

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a good idea. You might have enhanced healing, but you broke nonetheless more bones than you have in your body, I don’t think getting out of that bed any soon could end well for you. And it would be such a shame too. After all, I brought you a get well soon balloon.”

And sure enough, there it is. A red balloon. With a ‘get well soon’ inscription in golden letters. Bucky feels quite touched by this gesture. Tony thought of him. He brought him a balloon. In Iron Man colors even. That has to mean something, right?

As Tony comes closer, Bucky seizes the opportunity to appreciate the way Tony’s suit hugs his figure perfectly in all the right places. If Tony were his, he’d unwrap him out of it as if he was a present. He’d trace the material with his fingers, take slowly each layer off and soak in every inch of newly revealed skin.

“Hey, I know I look irresistible, but there’s no need to drool, Buckaroo.”

Damnit. Bucky would like to order a shot in the head right about now, please and thank you. He tries to wipe the drool off, but neither hand does what he wants, so he settles for living in shame forever.  

“So,” Tony sits down at the same chair Sam had been just a minute ago, “can you tell me what put you, a Super Soldier, in such a state?”

This is exactly the question Bucky had been afraid of. See, Bucky has a tiny little bit of a… problem.

It started only three weeks after he had moved into the Avengers Tower on a completely ordinary and uneventful morning. Bucky had sat himself down at the kitchen bar, as always on the second last chair on the left side, which was the exact right angle for him to get a look at Tony’s perfect round bubble butt when he would come and bend over the counter to get himself coffee, so his pants would stretch over that wonderful butt and Bucky would have an eyeful of perfection without being creepy about it, because he was “just sitting there” and “looking normally straight ahead”.

On that particular morning however, had Tony loudly cursed after opening his coffee can, and whirled around to glare at each Avenger with a look that promised murder and bloodshed. “Which one of you used the last bit of my coffee and then didn’t even tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to order more of it?”

The answer to that was obvious. No one else would’ve done something risky like that but Clinton “I have a death wish” Barton. Which wasn’t something they would tell Tony, because no one on this team was a snitch.

Well, and then Tony’s eyes landed on Bucky and it took only three seconds of having Tony’s full attention, that he blurted without a second thought, “Clint was it,” and even pointed with the finger towards him. That earned him a gasp and spluttering and an utterly disappointed “How could you? I thought we were sniper buddies!”

After that there was a pattern. One Nat didn’t take long to notice and confront him about it.

“You can’t lie.”

“What? Of course I can lie.” Which was true. You can’t be a high-ranking assassin and go on undercover missions without being able to lie—you’d die on the spot.

“Fine, I correct myself: you can’t lie at Tony.”

Which Bucky denied vehemently and then didn’t talk to Nat for a month.  

Fact is though, which it always is when it comes to Natasha Romanoff, that she was right. For some even to him inexplicable reason, Bucky is simply unable to not tell Tony the truth when he just looks at him. And it’s absolutely ridiculous, because Bucky should be able to. He is the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA. Instructor of the Black Widows in the Red Room. A weapon—a ruthless killer responsible for numerous assassinations. Tony’s big brown eyes, shining golden in the hospital’s light, framed by those surreal long eyelashes, which makes him the most beautiful person in the entire world, should not be a reason for—

“Sam bet that I wouldn’t manage to roller skate and I had to prove him otherwise.”

… Damnit. Bucky doesn’t need a mirror to know that his face is redder than a tomato. The memory of it alone fills his entire being with embarrassment and Tony knowing what happened makes this situation definitely not a single bit better. He still can’t believe it happened in first place. Bucky is a well-trained Super Soldier! A pair of ugly shoes with some tiny wheels on it should not have been his downfall, for fucks sake!

Tony tilts his head at that, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait a moment. What exactly happened then? Did you just… fall?”

Bucky gulps and focuses on Tony’s tie pattern instead of answering. There are little Hulks on it. He likes it, it’s very Tony.

“In my defense; there was a staircase,” he murmurs at last, still not looking up. The Hulks on the tie wear purple pants. He’s pretty sure Bruce would like that tie too, he’s got a dorky humor like that, even though he’d never admit it.

A few seconds of complete quiet pass, and when Bucky finally does look up, he can see Tony’s corner of his mouth twitch, until he apparently gives in to his urge and throws his head back, laughing so hard that tears of laughter start forming and running down his cheeks.  

Bucky wishes for an instant divorce. Sure, this might be the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his life, but he still wants a divorce.

Not that they’re married or something—or at least not in real life. Bucky did dream of it once, though. It was a spring wedding. Nat and Pepper were their “best men”, because neither wanted Steve and Rhodey to hold a speech. The decorations were in Arc Reactor blue. It was very beautiful, people even cried.

“You are something else, Bucky Barnes,” Tony shakes his head, the humor still audible in his voice, and a look in his eyes, that could almost be described as fond.

Bucky takes the divorce-wish back.

“Now see,” Tony begins as he gets up and slowly gets closer to Bucky’s bed, “you’re not as subtle as you think you are.” He sits down at the edge of the bed an sends him one of those brilliant smiles, that make Bucky’s head all dizzy and his heart sing with want. “Those looks you always give me are unmistakable.”

Tony takes that weird looking pudding from the nightstand and starts opening it up. “And all this time,” he continues, “I waited for you to finally make a move.” At that he rams the spoon with the pudding right into Bucky’s mouth without any prior warning.

Bucky almost chokes and it’s only thanks to his control over his reflexes that he ends up swallowing the pudding, instead of spitting it out. He coughs a few times and looks up at Tony in shock and disbelief. If this is how Tony takes care of injured people, Bucky doesn’t have any interest to ever do a nurse role play with him.

Tony gasps in indignation. “Are you telling me you would not want to see me in a nurse costume?”

This time Bucky does choke. On nothing but his own spit.

He imagines Tony in one of those tight short dresses, his legs all exposed, wearing heels as well as rich red lipstick and—and stops before his blood can rush anywhere south.

“Yeah, thought so,” Tony smirks and proceeds to slam another spoonful of pudding into Bucky’s mouth. At this point Bucky doesn’t know if his face is red from embarrassment, horniness or almost chocking, but red it sure is.

“Where was I again? Ah right, so I waited for you to make a move, but had to face reality, that you’re just too chicken to do anything about your crush on me. Which is kind of ironic, because aren’t you supposed to be a feared assassin or something?”

Bucky’s brain officially short-circuits at that, because Tony did… what?

“Yes, yes, I figured out your little secret, keep up with the class, I don’t like repeating myself. So anyway, this is me—” another spoon makes its way down his throat— “asking you for a date, because you apparently weren’t going to.” And Tony smiles at him so brightly, Bucky is sure he could lighten an entire country.

Bucky holds his breath and waits to wake up, because this can’t be real, this must be a dream. But when after a while nothing happens, but Tony’s smile slowly falling apart and making room for an unsure expression, he asks, “A date?”

“Yup.”

“With me?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“Okay,” he croaks, so he doesn’t do something dumb like start crying from happiness for example or jump at Tony who’d crush under his weight.

“Okay?”

Bucky clears his throat. “Yes, okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Okay.” And back is that smile finally Bucky would like to kiss one day.

“Now that that is settled,” Tony digs into the pudding again (fucking hell, is that still not empty?), “how about a deal while I take care of you, since we have to wait until you have healed anyway before we can go anywhere: you tell me where Wilson has hidden Nat’s deluxe strap-on and I tell the rest of the team that you got your injuries from a heroic fight protecting civilians against a criminal. Hm, what do you think?” The glinting mischief in Tony’s eyes when he winks at Bucky is unmistakable.

Bucky thinks that this is the best day of his life.

[heartslogos]

mafia rewrite - the prince 2

“A shit, you brought the little prince.” The Black Mask visibly deflates. “Damn. I’d say that makes things harder, but what’s one more fucked up challenge on top of another? Don’t draw on me. I’m here to negotiate.”

“The little prince,” Jason repeats mockingly. “Jesus, you’re spoiled.”

Damian ignores Jason in favor of waving an imperious hand around the empty building lobby they’re in. “Warren.”

“Right. Any good businessman would want to see the goods before entering talks.” Mask waves his hand lazily and two of his goons peel off to fetch Warren from wherever they’ve hidden him. "I want to say it now. I didn’t have fuck all shit to do with this. Warren approached me for a loan and I gave it to him. He’s been paying the installments with the interest — steep, mind you. I gave him a steep rate. The two bit slipshod upstart piece of shit’s always been an embarrassment. Now, would I be lying if I said that I gave him the loan hoping he’d somehow piss you off and get you to whack the bastard for me? Yeah. But fuck. Didn’t think he’d have the balls to do a hit on Tim Drake. I mean. After the last guy who pulled it? You’d have to be a Luthor to think you could get away with that. And with this complexion? I’d look like a swollen grape.”

Damian’s face remains impassive and neutral as he stares ahead, waiting for Warren to be dragged out.

“Sionis, you rotten piece of garbage,” Jason says, “Of all the people to somehow survive being shot point blank it had to be you. The goddamned devil didn’t want any of your bullshit and he sent you back for the rest of us to deal with.”

“Death’s a condition that gets better with time, oh wonderful kettle,” Black Mask retorts. “Besides, what’s worse punishment than having to come back to crawl on my hands and knees to pay my dues to the Wayne family of Gotham? Fuck, I should’ve packed and left for easier pickings. I’m too attached to this shit hole.”

Jason puts his hands up, "Yeah. Fair’s fair. But there’s a difference between you puling a miracle recovery and me pulling it.”

“Yeah, what’s that Hood?”

“I’m a goddamn Wayne.”

Everyone’s heads turn as the sounds of muffled squirming starts to echo from the other side of the lobby.

Warren, the Great White Shark, himself is bound onto a utility dolly by several thick leather straps around his chest, elbows, thighs, shins, ankles, and neck.

“See the fucker chew his way outta that,” Mask muses as his men wheel Warren into the cavernous space between himself and the Waynes. “I’ve even had him muzzled for ease of handling. I could have him sedated if you want.”

“Being awful generous tonight, aren’t you?”

“I’ll admit that Warren is my fuck up,” Mask says, hands raised. “And you’d have found that out easy. Mea culpa. I’m owning up to my fuck up like a responsible adult. So. Can we talk terms?”

“You want to talk terms after you gave Warren enough money to organized that kind of blow out gunfight across a third of Gotham in broad daylight?” Jason rolls his shoulders, restless as he cracks his neck. “I’m going to rip that thing off of your face and beat you to your second death with it. The devil won’t even think about sending you back when I send you to him as pulp.”

“We’re taking Warren and I’m going to send you a renegotiated contract,” Damian says, checking his watch. “I’m increasing the cut we’re taking, you’re going to increase the amount you pay for the lease on your properties, and your warehouse space at the port is going to be reduced by a third until I say so.” Damian pauses. “I’ll also be replacing your CFO and all the lawyers you have on retainer with my own people.”

Mask gapes. “You’re gutting Janus?”

“You can keep Janus,” Damian’s eyebrows raise as Jason bursts out laughing, clutching his sides as he throws his head back. “It’s a pittance at best. What would we do with it? No, I’m talking about your real businesses. Also I’ll be taking the original records of all of your books of business. You will not be getting them back. Your funds are now ours until I see fit to return them. If you’re going to be giving out such irresponsible loans I don’t think you quite deserve them.”

“That’s too far, Wayne,” Mask says. “I’m offering you Warren. I’ve fessed up. I’ll help you find all the other guys. I can concede the warehouse space and the pay cuts and the increased lease. But you getting your hands into my businesses and replacing my people is too far. I don’t agree to those terms.”

Damian reaches into his coat and pulls out a slender rod. With a flick of his wrist it extends about another foot and crackles to life.

Jason whistles. “That’s a new one. Did your birthday come early? Shit. Missed it again.”

“Did you think you were the only one with a monopoly on testing out Drake’s latest instruments?” Damian asks wryly.

“And here I thought you said instruments of blunt impact were for the lesser persons,” Jason teases.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Any tool can be suitably noble enough in the right hands,” Damian lifts his chin as he advances across the lobby space. “Even something as crude as a stick.”

“Call Drake’s shit a stick to his face as soon as he’s lucid again, I dare you,” Jason says, cracking his knuckles as he follows after his younger brother.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Mask curses under his breath and then waves at Warren. “Look at what you’ve fucking done now, you pathetic — fine! Take him! I’ll sign the goddam contract. I’ll give you the books. Fuck! The building’s new, I just had the lobby fixed after the last time you lot came in here and decided to throw hands.”

Damian doesn’t smile as he flicks the stun baton off and collapses it again.

“Doing business with you is always an annoyance, Roman,” Damian says, “And the next time I have to come here I’m not going to be as understanding as I am now. I’ll be sending the Queen after you. She’s wanted to add you back to her collection for years.”

Mask stiffens, for once unable to come back with a witty rejoinder. He just glares at Damian, eyes burning out of the depths of their shadowed recesses.

Damian gestures for his people to take Warren. “Send Warren to the Queen. We’ll deal with him later. Let her know she can do as she pleases as long as he retains enough faculties to talk when we send for him.”

“You don’t want to keep him in house?” Jason asks, hands in his pockets as he stalks back towards the exit.  “We’ll owe her a favor.”

“No. Quinzel has a soft spot for Drake, she’ll do this one free,” Damian replies. “Besides, she’s never liked Roman or any of the ones who’ve used the Black Mask monicker over the years. And I’m sure that Warren’s made enough enemies with those under her care that most would appreciate a chance at him.”

Jason turns towards the car that’s being prepped to take Warren.

“Tell Quinzel that we don’t want Crane going near him,” Jason says. “We don’t need Warren hopped up on psychedelics or in the middle of a crash. We’re not going to be giving her enough time to play with him like that.” Jason turns to his own people. “Alright, call it in for the night. I’m not satisfied, but I gotta head back in or the old man’s gonna brood so hard over Drake’s unconscious body the man might just croak from the pressure of it.”

“Colorful,” Damian muses, “The rest of the night is Cain’s and Grayson’s, then.”

“You’re calling it quits already? I was joking about the curfew.”

Damian shakes his head. “As Drake is out of commission I’ll be taking up his duties. I need to go back to his house to collect the materials necessary and get a grasp on his operations.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jason says immediately, slinging an arm around Damian’s shoulder, “With our luck as soon as he peeled outta the garage he armed the entire place to explode. We’ve got enough Wayne’s in the hospital for one night.”

“And you think you being there will solve that somehow, Todd?”

Jason taps his helmet where his temple would be. “I know how that twisted up nerd thinks. If he’s put up traps I’ll know what to look for.”

“Or maybe you won’t, because he’d have anticipated that and trapped it specifically against you.”

Jason gasps, mock hurt as he puts a hand to his chest. “Against me? His favorite guinea pig? Not a chance.”

[eddie-spaghettis-bifocals]

Seed part 2

read part 1 here :)

For years now, Eddie has told Myra he wants a garden.

The first time he told her was a year into their marriage. She went along with it, probably assuming he had some semblance of botanical knowledge to suggest it at all, and then he killed everything he planted, and it had upset him in such a deeply personal way. She could never understand it. Not that he fucking understood it either, but rather than take the time to try and figure that out, he stubbornly tried it again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Of course, at some point, Myra just begged him to stop. To stop doing this, to stop making himself so angry over something so trivial. “Why does it matter?” she’d ask. Ha! As if Eddie had any fucking clue, himself.

And he thought he never would. He thought it’d just be another one of those weird inexplicable things about him. He thought he’d spend the rest of his strange, spotty life miserably failing to garden every single summer and getting upset about it until he stumbled upon whatever the hell this midlife crisis symptom was trying to fucking tell him.

Ha.

You suppressed the weirdest childhood trauma known to man, it told him the second he came back to Derry. Then, when he saw all the losers: You used to have a real family that made you happy.

Your sickness isn’t real and you kind of always knew, he remembers shortly after Mr. Keene’s pharmacy basement nightmare. You’re gay actually, he accepts in the hours before going down into the sewers and very nearly dying.

You fell in love once a long time ago, he thought as he lie bleeding out in his best friend’s arms in the place he feared the most. He shut his eyes on accident and opened them back up in a hospital room, where he sees all the losers in various states of exhaustion. Richie is asleep, leaned halfway over onto his hospital bed, head on Eddie’s tubed up arm. And you never really fell out.

He was sure, at the time, that that was about the last of the suppressed Derry revelations about himself he could take, but that was then. This is now, at their final stop before meeting Mike at the airport and leaving Derry forever. Richie’s hand supports Eddie’s bandaged arm again as they stand in the Barrens, as if he thinks Eddie might lose his balance and topple right into the fucking creek—as if he doesn’t have a brand new cane to help prevent things of exactly that nature. He joins Eddie in staring up and up and endlessly up at what Eddie thinks may have been the lamest, most confusing grand gesture of his entire life:

A tree.

It definitely wasn’t here the last time he was, but he knows it innately, all the same. And judging by the look on Richie’s face, he knows it, too.

He wants to slap himself.

For years now, he’s told Myra he wants a fucking garden to his own bewilderment when all along, it’s been because of some stupid tree—and every embarrassingly intimate thing it accidentally represented—that he grew with comedian Richie fucking Tozier back when he was a nobody twenty-seven years ago. Back when they were both at their most honest and vulnerable. When Eddie was at his most unabashedly infatuated—uninhibited in a way he’s never been since, determined and emboldened, freshly thirteen and endlessly stupid—

“Well, whaddayaknow, huh?” Richie whistles. Eddie slides his nervous eyes over to see Richie still looking up like he’s afraid to stop. “Tall and shady. Just like you said. There’s some birds up top, I see. For Stan,” he says, and his lips tilt up at the sides.

There had been, it appears, some sort of magic involved in Eddie’s survival. Bill told him that by the time they got him to the hospital, the bleeding had stopped. Combine that with the fact that the scars on their palms are now completely gone, and the fact that Stan’s wife called Beverly back before Eddie woke up to tell her that Stan had pulled through somehow—it’s so strange we were sure he was gone—Eddie is inclined to think that, too.

And of course, they’re all overjoyed about it, but Eddie thinks Richie’s probably the happiest, since Stan was his best friend. Eddie likes to think that he was too, but there hasn’t been a good time over the last couple of days to ask. Or a good reason. Or a mature reason.

He knows that Richie, Bev, and Ben have made quiet plans to go to Georgia together after Richie finally leaves Derry to visit Stan in the hospital and stay for his recovery. Meet Patty. Obviously, they’re all invited, but they’re all acting like they don’t expect to see Eddie there for a while. At least not as immediately as Richie, Bev, and Ben will be there. He figures they all think he’s got his divorce to deal with and don’t realize that he’d rather do anything but.

“No squirrels though,” Richie hums. He looks at Eddie, eyes suddenly full of mischief as he pinches his lips to hide a smile. Just like he used to. “Just you, Rocky…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Shut up, don’t fucking call me Rocky, that’s not even funny, are you kidding me?” He kind of hates the way he knows he’s doing exactly what Richie wants, just like back then. Richie watches him explode just like then, too, like there’s nothing else he’d rather be watching. Eddie’s heart thrums like a hummingbird’s. “Like, now I have to call you Bullwinkle, you fucking gargantuan moose-headed motherfucker and that’s not any more original than you still calling me Rocky twenty-seven years later.”

“What was it you said that day?” Richie grins. He’s not even hiding the way they both know he just likes to rile Eddie up. Eddie wishes he were really as annoyed with him as they both know he pretends to be. “Something about carving your name at the very top with my buckteeth?”

“Well what were you doing with them aside from taunting the bullies?” Eddie laughs out, surprised, but now he definitely remembers saying it. Worse, he remembers imagining later, after he and Richie had gone their separate ways, coming back here and carving Richie’s name instead. God.

“Ouch, and you called me a dickhead?”

Eddie snorts, can feel his smile matching Richie’s. “Yeah, you were being a dickhead.”

“You were being short.”

“Well—” Eddie stares and blinks and bolsters himself up for another round but finds himself laughing instead, isn’t all that surprised when he can’t make himself stop. He wants to say it’s a belated release of all the leftover adrenaline he’s probably still got pent up inside, but he’s getting tired of lying to himself. He can feel his smile stretching and stretching, and knows he hasn’t smiled like this in years, hasn’t laughed at something stupid like this in longer. The laughing kind of hurts, what with the violent ripping open, then rapid mending shut of his chest cavity, but he thinks for the first time in his life that this is a good pain.

Richie reaches to steady him, again as if he doesn’t have a cane for this very thing. Richie hasn’t even left yet, and Eddie misses him. Ridiculously, he thinks he’ll miss him for the rest of his whole life.

“You’re not funny,” Eddie deadpans once he stops laughing, once he's caught his breath, but he fails terribly, still grinning. He sees the way Richie is smiling back at him. He is just as afraid to look too much into it as he is to look away.

“You sound just like my critics,” Richie laughs. “You should come to my shows,” he offers like a second thought, but Eddie thinks his cheeks look a little pink, then that he’s losing his mind. “You could heckle me—that’s always good publicity. You’ve always been the best at roasting me. You know all the embarrassing stuff. You know exactly how much of a fucking joke my life is.”

Eddie scoffs. He would say he’s always been the worst at roasting Richie because he never means a word of it. “My life’s a joke,” he rolls his eyes. “On top of everything Derry did to us, I think this fucking tree kind of haunted me.” He says, as a joke, but he thinks there’s a part of himself that means it. Which is even more ridiculous. “I spent the better part of like fifteen years trying to garden for no apparent fucking reason because apparently this tree was that big a fucking deal to me. Do you remember wanting anything the way we wanted this tree to grow?”

Richie doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he sighs, meets Eddie’s gaze, then drops a bombshell. “Eds, dude, you gotta know I, like, barely cared about this thing.”

“What?” Eddie reacts with so much shock, it must show on his face because Richie winces. “You… what?” Eddie says slowly, waiting for Richie to crack but be doesn’t. Only shakes his head, sucks in air through his teeth and keeps wincing.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not mad, just—” He’s a little embarrassed. He could deal with this if they had both trauma bonded to this stupid fucking tree. He could chock that down to more Derry bullshit—he already had, but he couldn’t handle it if he were the crazy one and Richie had just been, what, humoring him? He shakes his head. “No, I am mad,” he decides, and Richie chortles and that only makes him madder. “What do you mean you didn’t care? That doesn’t make sense, you woke up at like five a.m. to come do this with me!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you cornered me in the clubhouse all alone and said you needed me.” Richie looks over at him, then seems to immediately regret it, drops his eyes onto the grass. “I mean, I barely even knew what you needed me for when you said it, but I thought if I didn’t do it, you might ask one of the others, so I woke up to come do this really fucking depressing thing with you—”

“Fuck you, man,” Eddie snaps, flustered. “It was supposed to be hopeful!”

“Well it was fucking depressing,” Richie tells him with an easy smile. He finally looks at Eddie as he does, but his expression is nervous. Pensive. “But that’s okay. Because it was you.” Again, Eddie’s heart thrums like a hummingbird. “And if you were gonna make anyone wake up at the ass crack of dawn to try your hand at desperately redefining the word ‘burial’ just to prove something to the universe, then I fucking wanted it to be with me.”

Eddie stares at him, speechless. Richie stares right back, shoulders kind of slumped, like he doesn’t know how to hold himself. There’s this feeling like a deep breath, a feeling of relief—finally it’s out there.

And Eddie supposes, now that he has to face it, that he knew. Maybe even back then he knew. Maybe he always knew, deep, deep down, that it wasn’t always just him. He was just afraid, and wasn’t that always the thing about him? He had been too afraid to hope then, and he almost wants to be now, but he looks at Richie and thinks they’ve wasted enough time.

“I always used to hope it was something like that,” Eddie admits. When Richie looks over at him, he stares back head-on, tells himself to be uninhibited, and determined, and emboldened, and endlessly stupid, just like he was all those years ago. Just like the last time they were here together. “That you did… stupid things just for me like I did stupid things just for you.”

Richie watches him like he’s afraid to hope, and frankly, Eddie kind of is, too. Irrationally, despite everything, he imagines Richie possibly having someone back in LA—possibly having a hundred someones on reserve, but something unhinged inside him thinks if even the jaws of fucking death couldn’t keep him from Richie, then good luck to Richie’s imaginary side piece in LA.

Richie laughs loosely, looking uncertain. “If you’re trying to tell me that this was one of those stupid things and not just some weirdly morose growth allegory, then—”

“Yeah, okay, growth allegory,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “whatever—whatever, but also you.” They’re close, Richie still hovering like something might happen, but Eddie doubts he planned for this. For Eddie to release his cane in favor of Richie’s hands. To tug him even closer like he knows what he’s doing. To reach up and pull his face toward him so he’ll stop looking wildly between Eddie’s hands and the cane on the ground he traded for them. “Like, mostly you.”

“Oh,” Richie blinks, eyes wide and owlish like they always looked when they were kids. He looks at Eddie, back and forth between his eyes like they’ll tell him the truth more than words could. He smiles and proceeds to nearly ruin it. “Cool, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this? I’m not good under pressure.”

Eddie scoffs, says, “Pressure,” and kisses him.

Richie kisses him back, startled and laughing a little, but he kisses back like it’s nature. Like it’s innate and organic and unchangeable. Something that Eddie’s certain has been trying to grow between them for decades.

They won’t forget it this time.

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

Melee

Part 3 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Zuko has been living in Pohuai Stronghold for two months, and would very much like winter to be over now, please.

It had snowed a few weeks ago, just enough to cover the top of one's foot when one stepped in it, and Zuko had hated it at first sight. There was just something unnatural about how Koh-damned cold it was, forcing his inner flame to burn hotter in his chest to compensate. Most of the snow is gone now, only little piles of dirty slush left in the corners of the yards where the weak winter sun doesn't quite reach, but it is now somehow colder than it had been when the snow had first arrived. None of the other Archers are firebenders, and Zuko honestly has no idea how they cope—Kai actually seems to like it, but Kai is also mildly insane and not to be trusted.

Zuko is now triply glad that he took the Commander's deal. He gets three meals a day (plus access to all the snacks he could ever want—all he has to do is blink and people shove food at him), he'll be learning from the most badass soldiers in the entire world (although he has yet to actually start training—Dr. Atsuko says he needs to gain more weight before she'll let him even touch a bow, and Dr. Atsuko is really scary so he doesn't want to cross her), and he gets Agni-blessed warm clothes (Zuko will bite anyone who touches his koala-sheep wool cloak—Zheng and the twins make fun of him for his attachment to it, but Zuko ignores them with the ease of someone who literally couldn’t care less). And all Zuko has to do is figure out new and interesting ways of getting past the Stronghold’s security, like the voyage through the ventilation system he’d taken last week that had allowed him to access the single most secure prisoner holding cell in the entire complex without even Captain Katsuro, leader of Banli Squad and the oldest and most experienced member of the Troop, knowing where he was.

Considering that two months ago he’d been staring starvation in the face, Zuko feels that maybe the luck that he’d used up just by being born is starting to come back.

Now if only winter would end.

Zuko is sitting with Kai and Jiyoti at breakfast in the mess, watching with increasing skepticism as Kai discourses the merits of arrows made out of ice, of all things. He’s neglecting his bao, and Zuko waits until Jiyoti distracts him with a salient point—how would one make ice arrows without waterbenders?—before swiping one. Mmm, sweet bean paste.

Kai pouts at him when he realizes what has happened, but Zuko is distracted by Commander Toshiaki coming their way.

Privates, Zuko, good morning, he greets them.

Good morning, Commander, they sign in unison.

Zuko, you need to report to Dr. Atsuko in the medical wing when you finish breakfast, the Commander informs him.

Zuko nods. Yes, sir.

Commander Toshiaki nods, the faintest trace of a smile playing at his stern expression, and Zuko feels like a million gold pieces. The Commander had been impressed with his breaking into the secure cell, and Zuko can’t wait to impress him again on his next “mission” to test the Stronghold’s security. He can only hope that nobody’s too disappointed when he inevitably proves how much of a failure he is at archery and non-bending hand-to-hand. He’s already resigned himself to never completing his firebending training, since the Yuyan are all non-benders. He’ll just have to hope that he never gets into a situation where firebending is his only weapon. He wonders if the Commander will let him continue learning the dao, since it’s a non-bending form of combat.

He still needs to be cleared by Dr. Atsuko though, so after Commander Toshiaki signs for them to carry on, and he steals Kai’s other bao (and ducks the listless protesting swipe the older boy aims at his head), Zuko heads over to the medical wing.

For once, the CMO seems pleased to see him, and within moments Zuko is stripped to his underwear and standing on a scale. He tucks his hands in his armpits and shivers in the chilly air of the medical wing.

“Good news, you’re just on the right side of healthy weight for a boy your age and height,” Dr. Atsuko declares briskly. She allows him to step down and get dressed while she scribbles on the scroll that contains his medical information.

Does that mean I can start training? He asks, smiling hopefully.

Dr. Atsuko rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, you can start training, put that look away, you brat,” she grouses. “But don’t overdo it, understand? If I see you in here because you did something stupid, I’ll have Toshiaki triple the time you spend on the bench for recovery.”

Zuko nods rapidly as Dr. Atsuko scribbles on a small square of paper and rolls it up. “Take this to Toshiaki,” she orders, handing the note to him. “And tell the Commander that I’ll have his hide if he breaks you in ways I can’t fix.”

Zuko has absolutely no intention of telling the Commander that; he’s not a complete idiot, no matter how stupid Father and Azula and his tutors and combat instructors thought he was. He knows perfectly well that he’s exactly one screw-up away from being tossed out of the Stronghold on his ass, Zheng and the twins never let him forget it. Better to keep his mouth shut and his hands still unless spoken to directly—he’ll likely have fewer bruises for doing so when they do finally get sick of him and kick him out.

The sentiment is appreciated, though. Dr. Atsuko is scary (not quite as scary as Azula—it’s doubtful that anyone’s as scary as Azula except maybe Father—but Dr. Atsuko is close), but she cares in her own way. Zuko forms the Flame and bows, she scoffs and waves him off, and he departs.

His grin hurts his face, especially where the muscle of his cheek wrinkles the stiffened scar tissue of his burn. He doesn’t care, though—he can finally start training with the Troop, instead of watching from the side like someone’s useless kid brother! He can’t wait to tell Kai!

But first he has to find Commander Toshiaki. At this time of the morning, the Troop is usually on the target range, working on speed drills.

Commander Toshiaki is exactly where Zuko thought he would be, along with the rest of the Troop. He presents the scroll to the Commander, who favors him with a quietly pleased expression.

This is excellent news, he declares. He then assigns Zuko to Chihese Squad for PT and weapons training. Zuko and Kai exchange grins, and Zuko ignores the ferocious glare Zheng sends him.

Captain Hiroki, Chihese Squad’s leader, looks Zuko up and down. Ever touch a weapon before, kid? He asks, and Zuko can see the sarcasm in the way his hip is cocked, his half-lidded eyes, and the smirk lurking just below the surface of his stoically flat mouth.

Something about him reminds Zuko of Azula when she was fishing for something to torment him with, and his spine snaps straight. I studied the dual dao for three years with Master Piandao before my father demanded I stop, he answers, keeping his hands and expression tightly under control. Father forbidding him from continuing his studies with the Master is a memory almost as painful as that of the Agni Kai, but he powers through it, refusing to let this potential Azula-replacement have any kind of ammunition against him. My Uncle helped me continue learning, as well as helping me learn other blade techniques. Such as this.

As fast as thought, Zuko draws his pearl dagger, flips it to grasp by the tip of the blade, and throws it handle-first at the closest archery target. It hits a fraction of an inch off of dead center, buried to the hilt. The target is at least twenty feet away.

Kai looks like Summer Solstice has come early. Mika and Jiyoti are smirking. Zheng is audibly grinding his teeth, dark eyes narrow and furious. Captain Hiroki looks… impressed.

The Captain walks over to the target, pulls out the dagger, and examines it as he walks back. Zuko watches like an eagle-hawk, but all Captain Hiroki does is look it over, shine the blade on the sleeve of his tunic, and hand it back to Zuko, who immediately tucks it into the sheath in his belt.

Very nicely done, he signs, all traces of sarcasm gone from his face and body. And quick, that’ll serve you well with a good set of real throwing knives. Why did your father make you stop learning from Piandao? I thought he was supposed to be the best swordmaster in the Fire Nation.

My father didn't like Piandao, and believed that weapons were beneath a firebender's dignity, Zuko replies, and doesn't miss the sneer that crosses Zheng's face. Annoyance churns in his gut, but Zuko's been ignoring Zheng's sneers and jibes since he was able to understand the Yuyan hand-language, and he's not about to break that streak.

A firebender, Captain Hiroki signs, almost absentmindedly, hairless eyebrows furrowed in thought.

I'm not very good, Zuko shrugs.

It seems as though Zheng can no longer hold his peace. You can't possibly be going through with this, Cap! He signs, fury in every line of his body, his hands flying so fast that Zuko can just barely keep up. He's a thief! He should be shipped back to the Home Islands in chains, not be trained in our ways like he's actually one of us!

Shut up, Zheng! Kai's hands snap out. Don't pretend you're not just jealous that Zuko's better at shadow walking at fourteen than you are at twenty!

Why would I be jealous of a spirits-damned street rat? Zheng replies, sneering. He's obviously lying about studying under Piandao, wanting the Captain to fawn over him the way the Commander does, while all he's doing is using his ridiculous street rat tricks to make it seem like he's actually useful and not planning on selling us all out to the closest dirt-eater forces––

Zuko can't take it anymore. He's many things: a failure, a soft-hearted weakling, a useless embarrassment to his father and family. But he is here now in this new life because he believed, and still believes, that it is wrong to sacrifice loyal subjects of the Fire Nation as battle fodder. The idea that he could be a traitor to his people burns even worse than Father's fire-whips, or the handful of flames he'd held to Zuko's face.

He breathes, and exhales fire. The force of his rage produces a plume of reddish gold flame that roars toward Zheng like a stampeding komodo-rhino, causing everyone to jump back to avoid being burned.  

Zheng is white under his Yuyan tan. Kai once again looks like the Summer Solstice has come early, with his birthday next. Mika's eyes are wide, and Jiyoti is practically hiding behind the older woman. Captain Hiroki looks thunderous, but before he can even move his hands, Zuko is already signing.

You don't know a damn thing about me, you giant piece of shit. His entire body is trembling, he’s so angry he feels like he’ll actually burst into flames. He doesn't even care that he might get kicked out for this. Zheng's been a boarcupine quill in his side since Commander Toshiaki and Chihese Squad had pinned him to the storeroom wall, and Zuko is done. I stole so that I wouldn't starve, because I was dumped in the middle of Koh-damned nowhere with the clothes on my back and a single useless knife, and I didn't even make it out of the Stronghold before I got caught anyway. I was going to die. I was supposed to die, but the Commander decided to let me live because he thought I would be useful. And I will never be able to repay him for that, for giving me a home and a new life, so I will stay here and learn everything I can and be as useful as I can possibly be, and you can shut up and stay the fuck out of my way!

He can feel the force of his glare in the pressure on his temples and the ache in his scar where his left eyebrow used to be, and the expression must be something because even Captain Hiroki seems reluctant to get close to him.

A hand lands gently on his shoulder, and Zuko flinches hard before whirling around to face the new threat, which is—

Kai, with an easy smile on his face, though his dark eyes are pained. Come on, he signs, let’s go to Master Arata and get you kitted out. Cap can deal with Zheng.

Kai leads him away, and Zuko glances back to see Captain Hiroki turning on a still white-faced Zheng.

Master Arata, the bowmaker for the Yuyan Archers, takes one look at Zuko and gives him the one bow with the single lightest draw weight in the entire Stronghold. Kai laughs himself sick as Zuko tries and fails to draw the bowstring back to his chin.

The Commander finds them in one of the training areas used by the regular Army companies that are stationed at the Stronghold. Kai is showing Zuko the strengthening and conditioning exercises the Yuyan use as part of their archery training, and Zuko recognizes many of them from both firebending and sword training, so they're in the middle of a planking contest when boots appear in Zuko's vision. He falls flat on his face when he realizes just who those boots belong to.

He and Kai both snap to attention, but Zuko can't look anywhere but at the ground, shaking as he awaits the Commander's punishment for firebending at Zheng. His shoulders ache with tension. He wishes the Commander would just hit him and get it over with.

Boots reappear in his vision, and Zuko squeezes his eyes shut and braces for the impact.

And nothing happens. Slowly, the fuzzy buzz of panic enveloping Zuko like a suffocating blanket falls away, and after a few moments he gathers every scrap of courage he possesses and opens his eyes.

The Commander is crouching in front of him, his head level with Zuko's chest, looking up at him with calm dark gray eyes. In this position, Zuko is head and shoulders taller, instead of the Commander looming over him, and he can't understand why the Commander would do this because it has to be absolutely demeaning for the leader of one of the world's best strike forces to take such a position before a useless idiot child like him––

Peace, Cadet Zuko, Commander Toshiaki signs slowly, expression serene.

Oh. Duh. As if Zuko needed another reminder that he's an idiot.

Captain Hiroki has informed me of your altercation with Private Zheng, the Commander continues. As the instigator of the incident, Private Zheng has been reprimanded and assigned a punishment detail. He has also been transferred to Banli Squad, per recommendation from Captain Hiroki and Sergeant Mika. However, firebending at someone outside of training scenarios or active combat is forbidden here in the Stronghold, by order of Colonel Shinu, and I'm afraid that means that I need to give you a punishment detail as well.

I understand, sir, Zuko signs haltingly.

You are to report to the komodo-rhino barn half an hour after dawn for the next two weeks, where you will perform tasks assigned by Stablemaster Guo until the mess opens for breakfast, the Commander declares.

Zuko blinks. He can't have understood that correctly. The Commander wants him to help take care of the komodo-rhinos… as a punishment?

But he has definitely learned to hold his tongue in front of superiors, and has probably pushed his luck enough for the next year, so he simply signs Understood, sir, and bows with the Flame.

I have also spoken to the Stronghold's firebending master, and he is happy to take you on as a student, Commander Toshiaki adds. You will report to him at dawn every day after your punishment detail is complete. He wished me to inform you that he understands if you have gotten lax in your meditations in the recent past, but he expects you to resume them immediately, so that you are well in the habit once your training resumes.

For the second time in as many moments, Zuko is shocked. He honestly hadn't expected to be allowed to continue his firebending training, and he could admit that a small part of himself had been just a tiny bit relieved. Before, even with Uncle's intervention, firebending training had not been a pleasant activity. No one had dared to physically harm the Fire Prince, but Zuko knew full well how the palace masters compared him to Father, to Uncle Iroh, to Azula, and never really seemed to care if he hurt himself in the process of trying to prove himself worthy of them.

But now, there's no one to compare himself to other than the soldiers who bend, and the master who oversees them. Anyone to whom he might try to prove himself wouldn't care about his firebending, because they don't bend themselves. Zuko isn't the Fire Prince, the Crown Prince, anymore, he doesn't have anyone's boots to fill but his own.

And that is a very exciting prospect.

So he grins widely at the Commander and signs Yes sir!

Previous | Next

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium 2: Chapter 4

Audi stella. (Listen to the star.)

“...weird trees under rocks? Hm, new creatures? Never seen these before…”

Elma groaned, her eyes fluttering as she came back to consciousness. Her head hurt, her body ached - wait, the stalactites. She shot up suddenly, ignoring how her mim protested against such exertion, and she searched around wildly for her companions.

However, to her surprise, something was carefully moving the rubble off of her body. That must’ve been how she was able to sit up, she realized before looking further into the cavern. Lin was awake, shaking her head and checking herself over for any wounds. There was no sign of Nessa or Tatsu, but there was another creature a few feet away from Elma, throwing a stray rock to the side as he dug at the pile holding her legs in place. It didn’t seem to notice that Elma was awake, not at first, but when it finally looked up at her it froze. Elma recognized the little creature immediately: a Nopon. He didn’t look like any Nopon Elma had ever encountered, however. White fur, a thick winter coat covering most of its body, a long and prominent tuft of fur atop his head that faded into a bright pink. His wings were speckled with the same pink, though there were also hints of cerulean and lavender flecks amongst the white. And, perhaps most surprising of all, there was a rather large broadsword strapped to the Nopon’s back, a weapon far larger than any Nopon should’ve been able to carry, and easily larger than any Nopon she’d encountered before.

“Meh! One flesh tree awake and alive!” The Nopon commented with a smirk, “Have good nap, flesh tree?”

“Um…”

“Don’t answer. Froyoyo knows flesh tree was knocked out by silly cavern termites. Those are reason for stalactites falling down! Very unfortunate.”

“Cavern termites?” Elma asked, watching as Lin finally spotted the Nopon. Her eyes went wide, and then her expression quickly turned to that of confusion.

“Flesh tree not heard of cavern termites?” The Nopon - Froyoyo? - raised an eyebrow before a spark of realization hit his dark eyes. “Of course, Froyoyo understand now! Flesh trees not from here, surely!”

“You’re right,” Elma told him, “We’re from...well, we live in Primordia, in the city New Los Angeles. But we also aren’t from Mira. We’re from a planet called Earth, and we’re called humans.”

“Well, Humans, wonderful to meet you!” Froyoyo offered one of his little hands to shake, “Froyoyo is Froyoyo, legendary Heropon of Cocytios and leader of Desserta Caravan!”

A muffled voice came from underneath the rubble before Elma could correct Froyoyo on her proper name - and the fact that, technically, she wasn’t even a human. “MEH?! FROYOYO, HEROPON OF COCYTIOS?! TATSU KNEW YOU WERE REAL!!”

Froyoyo quickly hopped over to where Tatsu had called out, using his wings and arms to dig beneath the rubble. He pulled Tatsu out, who was dazed and disoriented, but still harboring a huge childish smile. He adjusted his glasses quickly before continuing to speak to Froyoyo, “It is!! Tatsu is Tatsu, and Tatsu is your biggest fan!! Tatsu’s mamapon read Tatsu Tale of Two Gods every night as a littlepon, and Tatsu could recite story word for word! Froyoyo is such a legendary Heropon -”

“Time for enjoying Froyoyo’s coolness comes later, littlepon,” Froyoyo interrupted, “Froyoyo appreciates it, but first, Froyoyo must ask: are there other flesh trees underneath rubble?”

“Yes! Nessa’s still down there!” Lin confirmed, a slight panic overtaking her confusion.

“Then littlepon, help Froyoyo rescue friend!” 

Froyoyo quickly made his way closer to Lin, navigating the rubble with a certain air of grace. Strange, yet another thing Elma had put past the Nopon. Froyoyo was definitely an odd one, that much was certain, but his oddities were welcome. After all, he was talking to a mimeosome, a secret xenoform, one of the avatars of the sentient planet, and their adopted Nopon child. 

Speaking of whom, Elma was also surprised that Tatsu followed Froyoyo quickly, though he wasn’t quite as careful and tripped over a stray rock on his way to help. Elma took the time to push the rest of her body out of the rubble, positioning herself on top and deciding to try and stand up. It was a process, especially considering how unstable this new flooring was, but by the time she’d gotten her balance, Froyoyo and Tatsu were both pulling Nessa out into fresh air. Her eyes were open and she was breathing, thank the gods, but when she surfaced she coughed, holding her stomach and regaining her senses as she lay on the rocks.

“Is flesh tree okay?” Froyoyo asked.

Nessa’s face scrunched up at that. “Uh, sure, flesh tree is fine. Who are you?”

“Froyoyo’s name is Froyoyo!” The Nopon introduced himself once again, and Nessa’s eyes sparkled with familiarity.

“Oh! You’re that Heropon Tatsu was going on about. Thanks for the rescue, sir.”

“Froyoyo need not be called ‘sir’,” Froyoyo huffed, “Only thanks Froyoyo needs is seeing you safe. Now, what are flesh trees doing in Cocytios, if not from here?”

“We’re here because my brother’s in danger, and we think he’s somewhere in Cocytios,” Nessa explained, “We were going to investigate a Ganglion fortress for any signs of -”

“Ganglion? What are Ganglion?”

Elma tensed at that. Bad sign, very bad sign.

Nessa seemed to feel it too, and her words became slower, more cautious. “They’re like...us flesh trees, but blue and purple and really ugly.”

“Flesh trees are referring to the Blue Bastards?”

Lin stifled a laugh, but it didn’t deter Froyoyo from continuing, “Blue Bastards have fortress south of here! Froyoyo would be happy to take flesh trees there, but not right now. Now, flesh trees should accompany Froyoyo back to Desserta Caravan and have wifeypon look over for wounds.”

“Desserta Caravan!!” Tatsu cheered, “Yes!! Friends, let’s go to Desserta Caravan! Tatsu want to meet Vanala and Froyoyo’s littlepon!! Entire chapter of Tale of Two Gods was dedicated to Sprinkle Sprinkle; Tatsu has to know what happened in adventure up Treachery Mountain -”

“Hang on there, tater tot,” Lin quickly objected, turning her focus to Nessa and Elma, “We should decide that as a team. If this is time sensitive, then...is it the best idea to take a detour?”

Elma thought about it for a moment before reaching a decision: “I think of it less as a detour and more of a potential recovery spot. Froyoyo’s extending his hospitality to us, and if what he’s offering is true, then I see no reason to refuse.”

“Froyoyo is right here, you know,” Froyoyo shook his head, “Flesh trees don’t need to accept offer of friendship. But Froyoyo hates seeing flesh trees looking so defenseless and stupid! Froyoyo knows family and caravan would be willing to help, just like they did with Sollypon!”

“Sollypon?” Nessa frowned, “Who’s that?”

“Sollypon is a not-quite flesh tree!” Froyoyo chirped, “Magical, has weird horns and long ears. Much taller than flesh trees, too!...wait, flesh tree with weird eyes, is Sollypon brother you mentioned?”

“Based on that description, no.”

“Is brother one of the Blue Bastards?”

“Absolutely no.”

“Is brother the weird furry dragon that has been attacking caravan?”

“I’m afraid to ask. No, he’s not. He looks exactly like me, but a little taller, has a weird heart shaped strand of hair atop his head, and he doesn’t have fat tits like I do.”

It became Elma’s turn to stifle an embarrassed snort, mostly because Nessa was so...nonchalant about that last part. Froyoyo eyed her weirdly before shrugging with his wings. “Then Froyoyo has not seen brother! But Froyoyo promises to help find brother if flesh trees come back to caravan and take care of themselves. And maybe help with weird furry dragon if it comes back.”

“I believe that’s...an eye for an eye, right?” Nessa brought up the saying, and immediately Elma wanted to congratulate her on not butchering it like Pongo would’ve. Even after spending so much time around humans, he always managed to mess those up.

“Incorrect use of the saying, but close enough,” She told her, “And in any case, I’d at least like to get out of this cavern, lest we get surprised by more…”

“Cavern termites!” Froyoyo exclaimed, “Like to build tunnels in caves, especially in stalactites. Caused lots of trouble for caravan when we settled down and made homes!” He didn’t elaborate, and instead offered out a stubby little hand to Nessa and Lin. “Now come! Froyoyo will show you to caravan, it’s not far at all. But we must hurry, since Cocytios gets very dark very quickly!”

Without putting up any resistance, Elma and her team soon made their way out of the cavern, following Froyoyo back into the cold expanse of Cocytios. Thankfully, the weather treated them kindly. No snow, but a threatening wind still kept Elma on her toes. Froyoyo walked with a confidence that only came with time and experience. Tatsu stuck to him like glue, and the two Nopon became engrossed in conversation fairly quickly. Elma’s attention, however, remained on Lin and Nessa. Neither seemed terribly hurt by the stalactites, but given how Nessa had already taken a fair amount of damage prior to meeting them, Elma wanted to make sure she was okay. If she was hurt at all, Nessa did a great job at hiding it, and she kept up the pace without struggle. 

Oddly enough, after half an hour of walking, Lin entered into a sneezing fit. She could hardly talk, and once she started up, Froyoyo stopped to look at her. To Elma’s surprise, the hardened Nopon started to laugh, a loud and boisterous rumble. 

“Friend must have inhaled a Sneezy Peezy!” He said.

Tatsu was the first to ask, “Meh meh? What is a Sneezy Peezy?”

“Sneezy Peezy is a snowflake that makes many creatures enter bouts of sneezing! Desserts Caravan sometimes catches Sneezy Peezies to melt, since melted Sneezy Peezies help cure colds!”

“Fascinating,” Elma commented shortly after Lin was able to regain her composure, “Are you alright, Lin?”

“I’m okay,” Lin caught her breath as Nessa put a careful hand on her shoulder, “Just wasn’t expecting that!”

“Cocytios is full of little surprises,” Nessa winked, “Just wait until we find a Tundrabbit!”

They continued on without further incident, and soon, atop an incline, Elma could spot the silhouettes of little huts. They reminded her of the other Nopon caravans scattered throughout the continents, but even from a distance, she could tell they were sturdier, more accustomed to the climate. And there were fewer of them, and no Potamuses lingering around with baggage. She supposed that was logical, considering the biological nature of the Potamuses, though she wondered if the Nopon used anything in its stead. 

Once they approached the caravan, Elma watched as several little Nopon saw Froyoyo and stopped what they were doing to run over to him. They were all small, far smaller than Tatsu, and came in an assortment of colors. When one called out “Dadapon”, she realized that they must be Froyoyo’s kids. And there were far more than she was expecting - nine in total came to greet him, and one ignored him completely in favor of walking up to Elma, Lin and Nessa. It was a little pink Nopon, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Dadapon, who are flesh tree friends?” The little Nopon asked, “Are friends from other continents? Ooh, do friends have stories for Sprinkle Sprinkle? Sprinkle Sprinkle desperately wants to know what happens outside of Cocytios -”

“Sprinkle Sprinkle!!”

And then, another larger Nopon approached, a similar shade of pink and flaunting a large tuft of curled hair. It almost formed a heart shape with how structured it was. “Do not haggle strangers for stories until they’ve settled down!!” She looked to Elma, the tallest of the three humanoids, and cleared her throat. “Vanala is Vanala! Welcome to Desserta Caravan! Vanala hopes hubbypon has treated you well on journey to caravan!”

“Of course, wifeypon! Froyoyo saved new friends from cavern termite cave-in!” Froyoyo claimed, trying his best to calm his excited kids down. Some even pounced on Tatsu, who handled them with expertise. Elma recalled how he was an older sibling in his own family, so it made sense how he knew the tricks to calming down the littlepon. 

“Meh meh! Vanala sorry to hear,” Froyoyo’s wife said solemnly, “Very rude of cavern termites to do that! Are friends hurt at all? Vanala can heal with ether if need be!”

Lin shook her head. “I’m okay, but thank you! Though, you can heal with ether?”

“Of course! Ether is plentiful in Cocytios, so Vanala harnessed water ether to heal. Took long time to master, but very useful for when littlepon get careless in their roughhousing and when hubbypon bites off more than he can chew.”

“I thought all of the healing Arts used ether,” Nessa frowned, “Is something different about a Nopon knowing how to use it?”

“Well, none of the Nopon in the city - or any of the ones we’ve met across Mira - have ever been able to use ether before,” Lin explained, “We only have a handful of Nopon that are actually registered with BLADE, and they mostly stay inside the city. Heck, the fact that Froyoyo is carrying a weapon is really weird!!”

“Meh meh? Are friends saying that Nopon outside Cocytios are softies?!” Froyoyo scoffed, making his way over to them and letting Tatsu handle the littlepon for the time being, “So sad! Nopon must know how to defend themselves! If they don’t, what’s stopping them from being devoured by giant angry beastie?”

“Dadapon never taught Tatsu how to fight before he left for Heropon duties,” Tatsu said sadly, “But Tatsu would love to learn! Tatsu wants to become as strong as legendary Heropon Froyoyo!”

“Where was this enthusiasm to fight during all our other battles…” Lin muttered under her breath, echoing a thought Elma had but wouldn’t voice.

“Time for talking comes later!” Vanala announced with a bounce, “Friends follow Vanala into medicine tent!”

Lin stuttered for a moment, but at Elma’s nod, she shadowed Vanala. Nessa hung behind with Elma, taking their time in following, but never straying too far behind that they’d lose the little Nopon.

“The Nopon here certainly seem different compared to the ones we’ve interacted with previously,” Elma observed, placing a thoughtful hand on her hip. She didn’t say this with disdain or contempt, but rather, a budding curiosity complete with a touch of wonder. Which had come first: the soft, avaricious Nopon that NLA was familiar with, or the hardened, experienced Nopon of Cocytios? Perhaps the environment each grew up in influenced their development, but then, why weren’t the Nopon inhabiting Cauldros as tough? Surely Cauldros presented no mercy to them, surely Cauldros did everything in its power to tell the Nopon that they couldn’t exist on its land without suffering great discomfort at best and great loss at worst. Perhaps it spoke to the Nopon, and perhaps it spoke to how brutal Cocytios truly was.

“Don’t see much of a difference,” Nessa shrugged, “They all look like huggable egg-shaped friends to me.”

“Ah, I meant more in terms of personality and -”

“If friend dares to hug Froyoyo, friend will not be friend anymore,” Froyoyo suddenly called out, having returned to the littlepon and Tatsu. His face poked out above his wings, an adorable image shattered by how serious he looked. To think, a Nopon was capable of appearing as anything but cute…

“See? I like him,” Nessa giggled, unfazed by his threat, “Though I doubt my brother would’ve felt the same.”

“He was always one for hugs,” Elma replied, “Now let’s meet with Vanala and get looked over. We want to be in the best shape for the journey ahead.”

Nessa and Elma, shoulder to shoulder, made their way over to one of the tents. Elma had seen Lin disappear behind the curtain flaps mere moments before, and even if she hadn’t, she could harbor a guess as to which tent belonged to Vanala’s. It was the same color as her hair, embroidered with little white snowflakes, and a similar tuft of fur protruding from its roof. From a distance, it didn’t look nearly big enough to house three entire humanoids. So when Elma made it to the entrance first, she pulled back the flaps, beckoning for Nessa to enter ahead of her. She would need the most attention, most likely, and even if she didn’t need much, knowing that she was being taken care of would put Elma’s mind at ease.

“After you,” Elma offered.

Nessa smiled knowingly, almost teasingly. “Oh, you’re too kind!”

So Nessa ducked underneath, remaining bent down as she entered. Elma kept the flap open and peered in, watching as Nessa took a tentative seat next to Lin. Together, sitting down on a soft fur rug, there was much more room to breathe. Little lanterns hung from the ceiling, flickering with what Elma would’ve harbored were fireflies, had they been on Earth. Vanala had a little dresser she was attending to in the middle of the tent, rummaging around in a drawer for something specific. However, Elma’s attention was immediately piqued by something outside of the tent, something that cast a shadow over her. She’d heard the snow crunching underneath someone’s weight, footsteps approaching and growing louder, louder, the closer they got. Elma turned around, still keeping a hand on the tent’s flap.

“You must be humans.”

Elma wasn’t sure why she was surprised upon seeing a humanoid behind her. The shadow had been cast over her, implying height, which many Nopon most certainly didn’t have. But still, her eyes widened upon taking in the new figure’s form. Not a human, not by any stretch of the imagination. Light yellow skin, pointed horns atop the head, pointed ears. An outfit that swirled with blues and greens and browns and the slightest hints of magenta, and eyes that were sharp, their colors transitioning from the sky to the land. There were little ridges that followed their cheekbones, and that was the clue Elma needed to be able to speak.

“And you appear to be a Miran native.”

The Miran native smiled warmly and nodded once, only once. “I am a F’lenla A’slegn. Judging by your educated guess, you have encountered one of my kind before.”

“Elma? Who’s outside with you?” Nessa tried desperately to look past Elma, maneuvering every which way to get a better view. 

Vanala perked up at the new addition, and a flash of recognition shot across her eyes, quick and easily mistaken for a trick of the light. “That is friend Sollypon! Sollypon has been with Desserta Caravan for a few days. They’ve been helpful with littlepon!”

The Miran native chuckled softly at that. “Your littlepon are rambunctious, I do admit, but they are quite a joy. You should be proud of them.” Turning back to Elma, they performed a small bow. “I am called Solstice. If you would be so kind, you may refer to me with neutral pronouns, as well as feminine.”

“Of course,” Elma understood, “My name is Elma. Behind me are -”

“I’m Lin!” Lin called out, unable to see the newcomer as Vanala was inspecting her for wounds, “It’s nice to meet you Solstice!!” “And I’m Nessa,” Nessa winked once more, finally able to get a better view, “The pleasure’s all mine!”

Solstice’s head tilted, a small gesture that Elma couldn’t quite decipher. “Would you be willing to share? Because it’s quite an honor to finally meet a human - three, no less. I believed in my travels I wouldn’t be able to interact with any.”

“Why’s that?” Nessa asked, “I mean, humans are everywhere at this point, especially if you’re with BLADE. Primordia’s the hot spot for them since that’s where their city is.”

“Primordia?” They frowned, “I haven’t had reason to visit that continent in quite some time. Though, humans live there, you say? Perhaps once I have completed my duties here, I will visit for a while. And what is this BLADE you speak of? Does that put limitations on how often humans travel?”

“BLADE’s an organization! It’s like...kinda like a government, but not really?” Lin struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation, “BLADE headed the exploration of Mira when we all crash landed here. There’s divisions that have different duties, and depending on what division you pick, you get assigned to do different things! And that’s not really all too strict, because anyone can take any missions they want regardless what the mission’s about -”

“Oh jeez, my brother totally rubbed off on you,” Nessa snickered, “Enough about that, though, what are your duties on Cocytios?”

“I’m here in search of Starr,” Solstice said simply, prompting Elma, Lin and Nessa to make confused expressions. Elma opened her mouth to ask for more details, but Lin’s gasp was like a lightning bolt, and Elma quickly spun around to make sure she was okay. Vanala was standing at her knees, wings hovering over a nasty scrape, and orbs of blue energy floated around and about. Many seemed magnetized to Lin’s wound, while others enjoyed their taste of freedom and continued to surround Vanala. 

Nessa and Elma looked on, amazed for a moment, before Vanala announced loudly, “Friend must stay still for a while for ether to work! Would Sollypon and Elma like to come in?”

Elma and Solstice shook their heads. Elma told her, “I’ll be alright, but thank you for the offer. Nessa and Lin have the more urgent need, and I wouldn’t want to crowd your tent.”

“Then close tent flap! Don’t want cold air getting inside and giving friends bitefrost!”

Elma did as Vanala requested, trying to ignore the disappointed sigh that Nessa made. Solstice took a step back, hands carefully placed in front of them and folded with a polite aura. Elma didn’t want to stray far, and her unanswered questions were getting the best of her. 

“Starr? Who is that?”

“Starr, the Undying.” Solstice explained, “It’s a beast that has recently been targeting the caravan. I am here to speak to it.”

“Froyoyo did mention a strange furry dragon attacking the caravan,” Elma thought out loud, “Do we know why the caravan is its primary target? Do the Nopon have something it wants?”

“It’s unclear,” They responded, “The obvious answer would be that Starr would like to claim this part of Cocytios as its territory. There are abundant resources and a large, natural cavern here, as well as an enjoyable hot spring to the east. It’s also sheltered, compared to most of the continent, but…”

“But it’s a predator, I assume. There must be better places for Starr to form a home. If it can fly, perhaps one of the mountains?”

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that question. Starr is...I have reason to believe it may be behaving erratically. It’s why I’m here. To talk to it, to understand what is plaguing its mind, and possibly help to restore it.”

“I see.” Elma glanced around, spotting Froyoyo, Tatsu and the swarm of littlepon not too far off. “Froyoyo asked if we would be willing to help deal with Starr, should it return while we were recuperating.”

“Froyoyo is a Nopon bent on dispelling Starr through physical means,” Solstice shook her head sadly, “But I cannot blame him. Starr is putting his family and caravan in danger, and my attempts at extending friendship have resulted in repeated failure. I don’t wish to give up hope and -”

“FROYOYO!! DRAGON IS RETURNING!!”

An unseen Nopon called out to Froyoyo, and Elma spun around to look at the sky. Sure enough, a winged figure was approaching, descending, a storm in its own right. Over the panicked noises of Nopon running back and forth, a roar like thunder erupted from its maw. Elma flinched, gritting her teeth. Her guns were out in the next second, pushing past Solstice even as they tried to reach for them, to call out that the answer was not in fighting. Elma didn’t have the time to explain that the guns were a precaution. 

Lin and Nessa emerged from the tent moments later, both with their own weapons drawn. Lin’s gatling gun was out, and Nessa was poised with her dual swords. They quickly flanked Elma, peering up at the dragon - at Starr. Vanala did not reappear, but Froyoyo peered up from behind an adjacent tent, broadsword drawn and at the ready. 

“Damn furry dragon,” Froyoyo growled, “Has not had enough of Froyoyo’s blade!! Has not tasted enough defeat yet!! Froyoyo about to show it true might of Legendary Heropon!!”

“Wait, please -” Solstice pleaded, but those two words fell on deaf ears. For Elma, it wasn’t a matter of not hearing, but rather, a matter of seeing. Because as the dragon approached, as it grew closer and closer to the caravan...she saw its wings. She saw its tail. 

Glowing purple fragments, defying all known laws of gravity, acting as feathers on a fluffy white wing. Stardust trailed behind it, like a Skell leaving behind its trail in flight, like a comet leaving behind its aurora for the night sky. Had it been higher, had it been dark, Elma would’ve made a wish.

But now, all she did was wish she wasn’t right. And Lin echoed her thoughts in a hushed whisper, haunted by a very real possibility, a very real fear.

“Is that...a Telethia?”

[daredevile]

A Second Here Another Gone

Summary: Blinded by the sweet raptures of a new relationship, Bucky lowers his guard around you - unaware of the real reason you found him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of blood, bit of violence and one swear word

A/N: Hey! I know it’s been over two months since I posted something and I’m sorry! I was working on so many oneshots and never finished one until now. But, I promise I will try to update somewhat regularly from now on! Anyway, this one’s for Ayesha’s [ @browngirlmagic ​] writing challenge and my prompt was ‘Echo’. Please reblog if you like it! :)

An angry crimson. A so-called scarlet elixir of the living trickles from its hearth beneath as if screaming a symbol of horror and impending doom. It surrenders with grace and elegance - a droplet of fresh blood tainting pristine white floors, smearing the Parthenon of life and death with an intensity of wrath and violence and -

"Hey." The sombre tone in his voice draws you into his weary stature. It looks worse than he'd assured over the phone. Raging clusters of purple and blue spread across his arms, broken lip, black eye, his jaw cast a scarlet tint. Not to mention the slight limp he'd tried masking from your stares.

"Thanks for coming so fast. Would've driven myself but..." He motions to the cast around his right arm, a light pink dusting over his cheeks. A nurse approaches him with a sympathetic expression, repeating a list of instructions and medication requirements for a quick recovery. Though you know Bucky's not following a word she's saying - she must've realised it too - giving you a moment for any questions before returning to her station.

The conversation in the car is non-existent, only a couple of instinctive glances towards the rear-view mirror to gauge each other's emotions. Soft tunes twirl in the background, Bucky lowers the volume with a grunt as his muscles sting with the movement. A sigh escapes from his lips, he angles himself towards your concentrated form but, you refuse to meet his gaze.

"Y'know it's not as bad as it looks. Should've seen the other guy." He says with a constrained laugh. An honest attempt to relieve the tensed wind and the crease between your eyebrows, alas, it fails its purpose. He sinks back into the cushioned seat, lingering his eyes over the neon streaks of passing vehicles.

The road seems never-ending, both sides merely converging at a distant imaginary point ahead. The traffic dissolves and scatters into several busy paths as Bucky directs you through far too many left and right turns before arriving at a rather calm and vacant neighbourhood.

Once the engines lull back into a soft purr, you open the passenger door and gently grasp his arms as he lifts himself from the seat. He releases a breath in relief, thankful your silence is replaced by concern. The two flights of stairs is another journey on its own, exchanging mumbles of apologies and groans, even the close proximity of him curves past your thoughts.

Bucky stumbles into his apartment, careful to avoid the loose floorboard right at the entrance - pushing a horrible reminder to the back of his mind - and you follow his footing. A chuckle from him pulls your attention, determined he's capable on his own, he leans away from your hold, mentioning something about taking a shower before retreating into the furthest room.

His house is spotless, every single object kept in a place for swift and efficient access. Somehow he'd made a rather confined area appear more spacious. You notice how foreign and hostile he maintained his home - a supposed personal bubble. His belongings danced around the hazy line between bare essentials and other items. Almost as if he was caught in the process of moving in or ready to move out within a matter of minutes.

A sharp buzz from your phone stops you from observing the rest of the apartment. Without sparing a glimpse at the caller, you swipe the green button. An instant thrust of shouting greets you, attacking your senses with great vigour. And it's patience, you've learned, an offensive strategy to appease the monster into a human you could better tolerate.

"I need time." It's not forceful, however, lacking a timbre of the usual intensity your words uphold. The shouting continues, each syllable seething with fury, demanding more answers while your fist clenches at the vulgar threats he hurls from the other end.

"I need more time."

There's dead silence on both ends. And for a second, you believe that he's accepted the command. As fast as it'd ignited, the little spark of surprise disintegrates when his deep laughter is all that's pounding in your ears.

"You're here!" Bucky says, grinning as he spots you in the balcony, "Thought you left me alone."

His sudden appearance turns your blood cold and you can feel the precise second your heart trips over a beat, shoving the phone back into your pocket. His smile drops, immediately regretting how he entered as soon as he saw the pained expression written all over your features. He sighs when your eyes witness the red wounds and scars - some more jarring than others - scattered across his body.

"Look, I know this isn't a good impression. I don't want you to see me like this, trust me, I wouldn't have called if I had - " A pause. Hesitant as he swallows back the words. "Anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Bucky. This is all just... difficult." He nods, fumbling with the loose bandage tied to his other arm. A smile tugs on your lips at his frustration, you grab the free end and wrap it securely around the wound.

"Could you maybe stay? I mean... if you want to." He struggles to suppress a grin when you look up at his eyes. It's hope that lingers behind them.

"Of course."

But the side where you slept is cold and empty when he wakes up.

---

O N E  W E E K  E A R L I E R

The restaurant was crowded, located right at the heart of the city, overlooking several busy streets that seemed to sink under all the hustle and bustle. The world appeared an innocent umber through the dark hue of your sunglasses, shielding yourself from unwanted enemies. Or so you thought.

Time. Time was precious and no amount of glancing at your watch appeared to have quickened the circular orbit of the dials. But this time, you were unsure - caught between the dichotomous chasm of want and need - a feeling that unsettled you to the core.

"Hope you don't mind, darling." A deep voice came from behind, the drinks spilt over the glasses as he slammed his hand on the table. The elderly couple sitting to your left flinched at his abrupt action. A fake smile was enough to have satisfied them, he returned to face your blank expression.

"So tell me, does it usually take this long or are you fucking him?" It was almost a growl that promptly simmered to a smirk when a waitress passed by, unaware of the evil she'd encountered.

"He'll figure it out, I'm being careful." You said, oblivious to the scorching hot liquid piercing your taste buds. Any shard of fun and pleasure that had emerged from his features earlier crumbled at that very second, he leaned closer and you saw the strain on his face when his jaw clenched. Rumlow was not one to adjust and compensate. You learned that the hard way.

"Listen l/n, I saved you from Volkov 'cause you'd be useful someday. And now you owe me. Gave you a week to do the job, it's been two and I still got nothing. And you know I don't like waiting. Get me the information and finish him or should I remind you what's at stake here."

His voice was dangerously low as if cautious of people overhearing but, you knew it would take mere seconds for the scene to resemble a massacre. Yet, he was right. Your past record highlighted the speed and efficiency of completing assignments - just one hit then delivered to the client and you walked away richer. No hesitation. Unfortunately, this time it was Bucky who had a price on his head and had obtained confidential information.

A folder was thrown at your direction, containing photographs of innocents at different viewpoints through what was unmistakably sniper scopes. Rumlow mimicked the sound of a gun cocking before standing up. He bent down to whisper in your ear, laughing while he pressed a brief kiss to your cheek and walked into the sea of people. His last words were all that you breathed.

Barnes or your family.

---

Bucky sidesteps the soldier-like stance of a grumpy looking man, clearing his throat to alleviate the embarrassment of breaking under his penetrating stare. He didn't know what the guy's problem was, Bucky ignores the annoyed tsk that's clearly targetted at him. On any other occasion, a meaningless interaction with strangers would've flown over his head. But, today he's confused. Scared, even.

Less than two weeks ago, he'd encountered and been drawn to an enigma. Strong yet intricately pieced together. Delicate yet resilient. He just couldn't figure it out. After all, he thought everything became normal once he'd spoken and apologised last night. Expecting to be woken up by sunshine and ruffled sheets from a good sleep and you sleeping soundly, but you were gone without a word - and he just doesn't understand.

And now, here he is, shuffling through busy routes to follow a briskly walking figure who's intrigued him for half an hour. They seem to have no destination, simply taking sharp turns and descending into valleys of crowds and streetside markets. In a hurry, Bucky thinks. He picks up his pace, there seem to be fewer people in this area. It's darker and easily hidden between the lanes of houses.

He turns the corner and realises there are no other paths. A dead-end. The figure spins around, eyes flitting around the narrow path. He panics and begins to retreat, but the all-too-familiar cock of the gun stills his movements. Nothing. No moment in his entire life scared him more than the person standing a few steps away -

It's you.

He freezes when your finger curls around the trigger and the innocence in your eyes dissolve. Every single instinct in his body is telling him to run. But he can't. He wants to know more, to know why. And he realises you're thinking the same when your hand begins to tremble.

"Whose orders?"

It's a tone he's never heard before. Cold and detached. A machine programmed to do one's bidding with no second thoughts. He raises both hands, swallowing the agonising feeling latching onto his throat as your grip tightens.

"Don't lie to me, Barnes. Who ordered you to kill me?"

There's no choice. His heart is clawing the insides of his chest, waiting to be free. A whisper is all it takes to conquer your feelings.

"Volkov."

Bucky knows the moment his name is released into the strangling air between you, the gun falters. He sees the rapid and minute shift of your eyes, composing all the information together until -

Your voice staggers, pleading almost. "They have my family, Bucky. He'll kill them if you don't tell me where Volkov is. Rumlow - "

Bucky stops listening. Rumlow, a name he'd left behind, buried within the depths of conscience along with Hydra. He understands your assignment, a simple extract and kill. What Volkov had promised in exchange for your life - Steve's whereabouts - seemed too good to be true, maybe a possible reality in a utopian world. But, this is his life and it's not paradise. He takes a few steps until his hands hover over your gun, angling it towards his heart.

"Then save them."

He whispers the location and you try to zone out, lose control so you don't hear his words. It's too late, two snipers emerge from buildings on command, both taking positions on either side of where you're standing. The chill that runs down Bucky's spine doesn't go unnoticed as he spots the red skull badge on their sleeves. Rumlow knew you wouldn't kill him.

Bucky nudges your chin with the tips of his fingers, reaching into his jacket, he slips his gun into your hands. No words are spoken but you know what has to be done.

Taking a much-needed breath, you pull the trigger at him, not witnessing the wine coloured liquid spreading across his chest instead, taking cover before shooting one of the snipers lurking near a thin pillar. The other one begins firing near the car you are ducking behind. You sprint into his blind spot and kill him with a shot to his head.

Without wasting another second, you spot Bucky clutching his chest in pain. It takes a frozen second for you to dial 911, shaking with dread before Rumlow sends any more of his men and the chances of Bucky surviving vanish. A concerned voice replies to your incohesive string of words, you're barely making sense, the nurse ends the call ensuring 'they're on the way'. Bucky grabs your hand amongst the turmoil, light-headed and pale from the blood seeping through his clothes.

"This isn't goodbye."

And you run.

---

E I G H T  M O N T H S  L A T E R

Even after weeks of desperately searching for him, he was nowhere to be found. You'd gone back to the hospital, the nurse gave you a distressed glance, saying he hadn't mentioned anywhere in particular. That he was gone once discharged.

You didn't give up though - he'd sacrificed himself for your family in a sheer heartbeat. Bucky was the wind to your storm - a second here another gone. He was mysterious beneath the layers of kindness and affection, tender yet deep like the lyrics of a love song - words you've yet to discover, only hoping you weren't wrong.

A few of your old confidantes were able to carry out under-the-ground operations in exchange for Bucky's location: Edinburgh.

Under the chilly winter winds, you walk along the snow-freckled pavement. Sitting at a dark wooden bench inspecting calming patterns of skate lines etched across the river's icy surface, puffs of crisp air revealing themselves as you sigh.

"I was right."

His voice beckons a long-awaited smile on your face. Sharp blue eyes gazing at a few younger skaters wobbling while they glide along. You begin to stammer out an apology, but he shakes his head, still not meeting your eyes.

"You had no choice."

"Did you find him?" You ask eagerly as he takes a seat next to you.

"Pulled a few strings with some old contacts." Bucky turns to face you, a genuine smile he hadn't felt in ages tugs his lips. He takes your gloved hand in his, entangling his fingers with yours with a dazed look washing over his features.

"He's here."

[jasonrae117]

Bad Idea, Good Intentions

Hello, Thank you everyone for reading! I'm currently working from my phone and can't put the whole story under a cut, but I'm working on it! I'll definitely get one there before the next part because it may or may not (definitely will) contain potential nsfw shenanigans. Enjoy!

Part 3

"Nice to meet you Rachel Roth. Tell me something interesting about yourself." Tim leanes in just a bit closer.

"I work with music for a living." She smirked at him, moving so her knee brushed against his.

Tim looked into her eyes, there was something familiar there. This whole time he felt like he knew her or recognized her from somewhere but he couldn't place it. He graduated with a degree in criminal law and took classes in profiling and here he was not making any connection as to why he would know her. He blamed the alcohol and he was frustrated with himself. Career in music, was that a hint? She obviously knew what she was doing this whole time, playing with him. It was sexy as fuck but still messed with the brainiac. 

He took his time in analyzing her features, making it obvious what he was doing. She just tilted her head in response. Large indigo eyes.. he'd never seen ones like them before today. Dark wavy hair that looked like silk flowing down, he never paid so much attention to a woman's hair before unless they were a criminal. Her outfit was all black and nothing jumped out in familiarity...but her shoes, or rather boots. He looked back up, her pale and smooth looking skin, her alluring curves. He hadn't recognized those eyes before today because he saw them for the first time less than an hour ago, except at a distance from her place onstage. He didn't know the color, only that she had winked at him and they stood out against her pale face. 

"Holy shit! You're Raven!" His eyes widened and his eyebrow shot up. How could he not see it before? Fuck he sounded like an idiot. 

She smiled and she looked so gorgeous in that moment. Her laugh fluttered around the bar as her hand fell to his knee. "Wow, Tim. I'm surprised it took you so long. I certainly gave you lots of attention during the show." 

"Hey, in my defense you were at least fifty feet from me, wearing...uh more revealing clothes, and your hair was completely different. Besides I've had a few drinks since and my brain's not working as efficiently." He reached down and laid his hand on top of hers, leaning into her space. Rachel didn't react or move away as if comfortable with his closeness. 

"Excuses excuses." She waved her hand in a dismissively playful manner. "Would you like to leave Tim?" Her voice now was sultry and almost a whisper of seduction. 

Tim froze, he'd never been in a situation like this. These were the kinds of things that happened in movies, not to him. She was asking him to go home with her...unless he misread the whole situation and she was asking him to leave! Oh God, did he make her uncomfortable? No, she came to him, flirted with him! He was overthinking, overanalyzing. Great, now he was taking too long to answer, shit, he had to say something!

"You want to leave with me?" His face was red in embarrassment. Head tilted and eyebrows set as high as they could go, he had lost all steampower of his attempt to be smooth and now he was just an idiot like every other guy, like his dumbass friends. "I'm sorry. Of course you want to leave with me….….fuck me!" He slapped his forehead and then his eyes widened as he then realized how awful the timing of his curse was. "Wait! No I didn't mean that either. You don't want to fuck me. I mean...not that I don't want you to, because I do….uh... this isn't coming out right." His hands were held out and he was starting to sweat. 

Rachel just looked amused at his stupidity and casually waited for him to take his foot out of his mouth.

"What I mean to say is, I'm not trying to be cocky or have any expectations. I was trying to sound less stupid and well I pretty much failed at my recovery. I told you I talk too much when I drink." He rubbed the back of his neck. Good thing none of the guys were near, the bartender gave him some weird looks, but at least Tim didn't have to worry about the guy teasing him about it relentlessly for the rest of time. 

Rachel smirked and stood up, brushing her skirt down and tossing her hair over her shoulder. She took a few steps away and turned halfway giving Tim an expectant look. "I take that your answer was a yes. Or was all that rambling a way to tell me to look elsewhere for company?" 

"Yes. Definitely yes!" He stood up immediately and tossed some bills to pay the rest of the tab and followed after her. His eyes dropped to her swaying hips and he'd never felt luckier. They made it out of a back door and they silently walked by each other taking in the cool night air. 

"So, Rachel." He looked down beside him. Though she had on heeled boots, she was still half a foot shorter than him. He could add cute to the many attributes she held. "Would you like me to drive?"

"Ideally. I don't have a car and it wouldn't be smart to leave yours here overnight. I'll give you directions to my place." She glanced up and smiled softly at him. 

"Great!" He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to his car. He was glad he drove his own car, it gave him a chance to show it off. He didn't think Rachel would be easily impressed by a nice car, but his wasn't just any run of the mill nice car. Tim proudly drove an all black 1967 Ford Mustang. Tim's biological family was well off, but when Bruce Wayne took him in, he had more opportunities including working for Wayne Enterprises and getting paid very handsomely. 

Rachel stopped a few feet short and let out a low whistle. "Ok, Mr. Drake. I have to be honest, I wasn't expecting this beauty to be yours."

"What were you expecting? A Prius?" He laughed and opened the passenger door for her. 

"What do you do for a living? This car is immaculate." She adjusted her skirt and ran her hand along the dashboard. Tim just chuckled and closed the door, jogging to his side.

"I work as a financial analyst at Wayne Enterprises. But I want to work in law enforcement soon. That's what my new degree is in."

"Wow, handsome and intelligent. How new?"

"Actually just a few days ago." He smiled and the engine roared to life. 

"Congratulations, Tim." She smiled genuinely back at him and his stomach flipped. She made him feel some type of way. She pulled her phone out and handed it to him, directions already plugged in. He pulled out of the parking lot and followed the instructions given by the device. 

Her place wasn't too far from the club, quiet music played in the background, but he wanted to use this time to get to know her more before…. before they stopped talking. 

"How long have you been in the band?"

"About three years, including the awkward stage of figuring out if we were good enough to be a band and what our names would be."

"How'd you come up with the names?"

"I've always known my stage name would be Raven. It was my mother's nickname for me. That's also why we ultimately chose Nevermore as the band name too. Jenni felt like she was a curse or bad luck charm for those around her, except us, so Jinx came easy. Toni went with Argent as a kind of fuck you to the bullies that made fun of her super pale skin color. And Wally took inspiration from Kid Rock and combined it with the fact that he's 'the fastest drummer alive'. Thus became Nevermore." 

"Very cool. Does your family come to your shows? You're really good, I'm sure they're proud." He glanced at her and noticed that her shoulders were hunched and she idly played with the rings on her fingers. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that if it's personal."

"No..no, it's fine. I..uh.. don't have any family left. My mother passed away when I was eight. She was the only person I had. My father was never a part of my life and never will be."

"I'm very sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult for you being so young." He reached out and reassuringly held her hand.

"It was, but I had a small community of people that took care of me. And before you get the wrong idea, it wasn't a cult. I grew up in Norway."

"Norway? Wow, what part? If it's not too much to ask, how did you end up here?"

"Full of questions aren't we?" He shrugged in answer and squeezed her hand gently. "It was a small village called Azarath and they had such a unique culture. The oldest woman, Azar, was the first baby born in the village a hundred years ago. They named it after her and she became such an important figure. It was most important to her to continue the traditions of her people. They were all pacifists and meditated every day, everyone was so happy and peaceful and thus there was no crime in Azarath, just community. My mother fled from the U.S., away from my abusive father. She took me with her and picked the flight that would get her the farthest away. She had nothing with her except me and an empty bottle. We were starving and nobody helped us. Then one of the Azarathians saw us and gave us a home, gave us hope. They helped my mother raise me. When I was old enough I wanted to learn everything about their culture and every culture. They called me Raven from the Norse mythology of Odin's ravens, symbolizing wisdom and thought. I sometimes think of it as the death omen rightfully earned when my father sent some bad people to locate me to take me away. Azar gave me her journal and my mother gave me all the money from the village. They had all saved me and I didn't understand what was happening, but I ran to the city and got on a plane back to the United states. I found a shelter and lived there until I was eighteen. I found out that those men killed everyone in Azarath. It was all my fault, because I wasn't there. They would have stopped if they got what they wanted. I fled and they killed an entire culture." Tears now flowed down her face. He had put the car in park when they reached her apartment complex. He didn't move to get out and instead slid over to her and wrapped his arms around her. 

Tim gently stroked her hair and let her cry. "Shh, it wasn't your fault. They saved you from a bad man, a bad life. Their culture lives within you and Azar's journal. We don't know what those men would have done, perhaps the outcome would have been the same because they are terrible people. But they knew that you could have a safe future and carry on their memory. Raven has a new meaning now, beyond wisdom and thought. To me it means brave, strong, graceful."

Rachel's sobs were now soft sniffles and she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. You probably were hoping to get laid and now you're comforting a crazy girl."

 

"Hey, I'm not complaining. You're not crazy. And I told you I had no expectations. Come on, let's get you inside, I'm sure it's more comfortable than my car." He felt her nod and he got out to open her door.

"Thank you Tim. I…" She took a breath and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're very kind. There's not many, if any, like you."

"I appreciate that, I can confidently say there is no one like you Rachel." He smiled at her and she grabbed his arm guiding him to her apartment door. 

[witchespromise]

An Intervention

Arelle de Dzemael’s sitting room was perfect. Recently remodeled in more current fashion, a mix of respectable old sprinkled throughout the newer more modest fabrics. It gave the appearance of reserve and shunning luxury, though Brighid knew that such facades were shallow and merely for show. The room was also slightly too warm, and they had left her to sit alone for slightly too long. An obvious slight with a clear message. She would wait without refreshments and alone until the Lady of the house deemed fit to see to her. It was a sloppy, obvious ploy that disinterested Brighid. If she didn’t already know all she needed to about Arelle, this would tell her everything. When the swish of skirts reached her ear, Brighid schooled her expression into one of wide-eyed interest. She was, after all, a poorer relation. And she should show appropriate fascination at the well off presentation of her richer relatives. “Dearest cousin, please forgive me for leaving you waiting. Oh come now, let me see you.” As Arelle swept up to her, arms extended, Brighid was already moving to her feet. She had to lean over to kiss the air next to her hostesses cheek and Arelle clasped her upper arms, holding her at a distance to look her over. A scathing bit of scrutiny that could come across as flaying to anyone with perhaps a bit more tact. “Oh you're just as statuesque as that brother of yours. The things I’ve heard about Sharlayan cuisine must all be lies!” Brighid smiled sweetly in the face of the dig about her height and her weight, lowering herself to the couch with a quiet laugh. This would be unpleasant.

One sided small talk filled the air for nearly a bell as they snacked on excessively iced biscuits and tiny flavorless sandwiches. The tea was so floral that Brighid idly wondered if it was actually just Arelle’s preferred perfume - the same that had doused the letter that Silvestre had kept secreted away inside his shirt. She paid half attention while pretending at being engrossed, letting her mind settle on the reason she was here. The memory of Silvestre’s clear embarrassment - his shame - pricked in her mind like a thumbtack on a map. A precise moment in their short history that served as a true point of catalyst. Brighid liked to think of herself as removed from the troubles of others. Able to look upon things clinically, unaffected by base emotions. But Arelle Dzemael’s unwanted advances had harmed someone undeserving of the attention. Silvestre had felt trapped as a pawn of someone who intended to use their influence and status to get what they wished out of him for whatever reasons and he suffered for it. As he’d explained his predicament, Brighid had felt a curious coil of emotion. One which she hadn’t yet had time to study. She’d been furious. Not with Silvestre of course, certainly not. Lady Arelle held that honorable distinction of being the target of Brighid’s ire. And now here she sat not two fulms away from the woman, sipping her tea and listening to her prattle on. There was a lull in conversation as Arelle availed herself of a biscuit and Brighid set her tea down. She clasped her hands in her lap and turned to face the other woman, a pensive expression on her face. As intended, Arelle latched onto the look immediately - a fly honing in on ripe carrion. “My dear I do apologize. I’ve spoken so much that I’ve entirely neglected the reason you’ve come. Obviously something ails you…” Brighid only made a slight show of discomfort, smoothing her hands over the pale ruffles of her dress. She kept her fidgeting to a minimum so as to not overdo it, then leaned forward ever so slightly. “No… no, not ails me. I… it’s merely that I heard a rumor. And rather than ponder over the truth of it I decided to see it set straight immediately. I respect you far too much you see. To believe every little tawdry…” She silenced herself with a little gasp, glancing away briefly. For her part, Arelle was ensnared. The idea of gossip revolving around her was coeurlnip to her ego. The lady leaned in, nodding encouragingly. “Oh of course, of course. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But please, tell me what has you so concerned and I’ll gladly set  things straight.” Brighid nodded and looked back, smiling meagerly. “Yes, thank you. It’s simply… I’ve heard that you have… intentions. Towards a young man of a lesser house. Of course that would be your prerogative! I’ve no interest as to what you do in your own time in your own home… it’s just that… well you know certainly that my father is doing poorly. I returned from my studies to help care for him but even in his condition he’s still determined to hear of what goes on in this city he loves. He consumes every slip of information that comes his way and I only wish to be able to ensure him that these rumors are entirely spurious…” She allowed herself a moment of pleased indulgence as she watched color drain from and then flood Arelle’s cheeks. The other woman sputtered for a moment, unbecomingly, before indignant anger surged across her face. “Well I suppose it serves me right for thinking Morianne could keep her mouth shut on a…” She silenced herself immediately, cutting a suspicious look to Brighid who was blithely reaching over to select a biscuit, showing no sign whatsoever of having heard a word that had been said. “I did reach out to the young man, but only out of a sense of business stewardship. With the Restoration continuing apace, my family is looking to invest in opportunities further outside the city as well. I mentioned this to my friend who clearly decided to misinterpret my intentions.” Brighid had to give her credit for a swift recovery - though she suspected that line about investments was something the lady must have practiced before. Still she looked shaken. Her anger barely restrained. Messy. “Oh that is a relief to hear.” Settling back in her seat with her biscuit she nibbled on it, a napkin carefully cupped to catch crumbs. “My father was concerned you see. About appearances. He holds your husband in such esteem - he really is his favorite cousin. And though he would not discuss the details with me - and I hope this is not tasteless of me to say - I believe that love he holds is reflected equally within his will. But my father - Halone bless his darling heart - could not possibly abide the thought of at all associating with such a rumor. Even in his death.” She took another moment to enjoy the ashy tone of Arelle’s complexion while lightly dabbing crumbs from her own lips. “I’m so glad I’ll be able to tell him that it’s all falsehoods. He will be relieved.” Using her adopted father’s poor condition to frame a lie to dissolve a blackmail was perhaps in truly poor taste. But as Arelle gave her assurances and spent another half a bell clearly flustered and speaking on about the acts of largesse that she had performed towards the less fortunate, Brighid could only think about the other name that had been slipped. Morianne de Haillenarte wasn’t as easily reached, but Brighid had no intention of letting the attempted slight go unanswered. With half an effort paid to Arelle’s continued blathering, Brighid let herself be appeased. She wouldn’t be fully satisfied of Silvestre’s safety until the ‘invitation’ had been recanted, and there did seem to be more to the situation than there appeared to be at first blush. But she would see it through to a completion. Then and only then would she allow herself to wonder about her own determination in this matter. Why was this so important to her? Why did she feel so viciously protective of a man she had known for so small a period of time? Thoughts to consider later. For the time being she drank her tea and continued her inane conversation. Next to consider was Lady Morianne. Only after that was dealt with would she allow herself to confront the thoughts and curiously strong emotions that came unbidden when she spoke to and of Silvestre Vigneaux.

[whyyallsweatin]

My experience in a recovery house.

I’d like to share a story about my recent experience while in recovery housing.

At first I moved in with really high hopes. The place I moved into seemed very positive and safe. It was run by a nurse who was also a recovering alcoholic.

When I moved in, there were two other women in the house, L** and T****. They were both older. L** was the senior roommate with the responsibility of reporting any suspicious behaviour by the other tenants.

A few weeks in and I noticed some tension between L** and T****. Eventually, T**** relapsed on alcohol inside the house and was removed. This was scary for me, because T**** tried to get me to leave the house a little earlier with her, likely to use, but I refused. She exposed herself as drunk later on in the evening and was quickly removed.

About a month later we got a new roommate. Her name was C******. When she moved in she started to behave in a way that would make me embarrassed for her. When she first came to the house, she had just left a rehab facility and seemed to be full of stories about how ‘hard core’ her drug use was. She admittedly was taking suboxone, but she also admitted to being a regular cocaine/crack user and alcoholic. What was strange was she had a lot of glory stories about how she was a successful drug dealer, pulling in a few million a year. Her friend had a bunker where they hid from the cops, bla bla bla.

She took quickly to L** and I’d often hear them outside chatting in the early hours of the morning while smoking. So I figured she’d be easy to get along with since my roommate liked her. I trusted L**’s judgement at the time.

Quickly after moving in though C****** started to say weirder things. This included stories about how she frequented a well-known biker group’s clubhouse in Victoria. The only thing is, there is no clubhouse currently in Victoria. I asked her when she went, since there was one briefly here a few years ago and she told me right before she went to rehab a few months prior. Okay…

Following that she’d frequently go for walks on her own to the pharmacy or the store. She came back twice with two weird stories. Once, she told us while in the pharmacy she told my roommate and I that a man approached her and told her she was incredibly good looking and that he’d like her to model for him. I don’t want to be judgemental – C****** is in her fifties, is about 4’9 and is not really someone I’d see modeling.

Another time she came home and told us some knight in shining armour approached her on steel horse (motorcycle) and knew her name. He spoke comforting words to her – as if to encourage her on her mystical journey in sobriety. Since we lived in a private location, I was concerned that this man may have followed her home. I asked her and she told me that he already knew where she lived because he told her that he was expecting her. This was her destiny.

She also went into great detail about how her friends knew how to cheat urine tests. This alarmed me because she was super wobbly at times and looked sedated. I don’t know if you can supplement suboxone with illicit heroin and pass a test, but if she used clean urine – that would be a fail too since she had to test positive for suboxone. I asked her a few times about what suboxone would show up as and she didn’t really answer.

C****** was also very animated about her therapy sessions. She would be in her room for hours undergoing intense therapy and she would tell us how hard it was on her, garnering sympathy from L**. To me I wasn’t really buying it. You don’t get exhausted talking on the phone laying in you bed. She said she had a lot of trauma. I tried to relate to her and asked what some of the things she experienced were that traumatized her. She went into detail about an abusive boyfriend – then the next week she was elated having spoken to the same boyfriend she had claimed to have been abusive.

Whenever the conversation wasn’t about her she’d turn it into a conversation about herself. She had so many different incongruent stories about her family life, boyfriends, husbands, friends. It was hard to keep up. She admitted that her daughter and her had a strained relationship – which I could understand since she was a junky fuck up who neglected her.

She’d often complain that friends had alienated her who were still using, and then make statements that these friends she owed money to, then she said they forgave her. Etc. who cares. She gave me about five different names of boyfriends she had and she told me that she knew a male friend of mine that I was close to and insinuated she had a relationship with him. When I asked him, he told me he didn’t know who she was.

Another girl, named J**** came to the house a few weeks after C******. She was suffering a great deal. It was clear that she had either relapsed or was being heavily medicated still. She also came from the same rehab facility as C****** but there was no indication that the two had interacted, which I found strange. They were there the same time.

I knew J**** from my first attempt to get sober a year before. She was doing quite well and actually was in charge of the recovery house I was at the year prior. It made me sad that she had relapsed because she was very young, and when I knew her a year ago, I was really confident in her recovery and thought of her as an example.

J**** was struggling quite a bit and C****** and my other roommate quickly began to gossip about her outside. I could hear them through the open window. This upset me since they seemed to judge her quiet behaviour immediately. They reported her and we took drug tests which J**** and the rest of us initially passed.

Regardless, J****’s behaviour was withdrawn and they continued to insinuate that she was relapsing until she was finally kicked out. I don’t know if she did relapse but being under that kind of scrutiny could very easily push anyone into a position where they would.

Once J**** was gone, things between my roommates quickly turned to me. We were stuck inside due to Covid and I became quite depressed, wanting to get out and get a job and other things. I didn’t like online meetings and the group meetings we had on Zoom were heartless and seemed forced. Additionally, my roommates were given permission to go out and do things, but for some reason I was not.

Things got weird one evening when I went for a walk with C******. She told me her any my other roommate were “worried about me.” I had recently expressed my frustration with the situation, but nothing alarming. I echoed things my roommates said about the circumstances and tried to keep myself occupied.

During that time, the owner of our house, J*, employed a ‘helper.’ Her name was T*****. We were directed to call her twice a week and check in. After the first few conversations with her, I started to feel like the conversations were forced and T***** seemed combative. I began to forget my phone calls and the J* and T***** implemented a card system, where you were issued a yellow card as a warning. After 5 yellow cards, you’d get a red card, which meant eviction. I was issued a yellow card after missing a phone call with T*****. I didn’t think much of it but I felt like I was interesting in moving out since the restrictive rules of the house, which fluctuated in severity between tenants, seemed to make it impossible for me to have a healthy social life. But, I never indicated that I was officially moving out since my finances were a mess.

At this time, I was quite interested in getting back to work. And at this very time the local newspaper ran a story about a company I worked for. The company was ensnared in a money laundering scandal. This concerned me because I was worried about my reputation being involved in this company when I was set on finding new work. I told my roommates and showed them the article. I was also contacted by a news reporter, who wanted me to speak on the matter but I declined due to the fact that I had signed a confidentiality agreement.

I expressed my concerns during one of the forced group chats on Zoom while T***** was present. I didn’t know at the time, but talking about these matters – things that were concerning to you – was not of essence during group. Group was a place where recovering addicts and alcoholics were expected to parrot each other, feel guilty and talk about what they’re doing in recovery to better themselves by talking about the same things over and over, like making a gratitude list. My idea of getting better was to get a job and get out in the real world instead of isolating – so my contributions were not appreciated.

Everyone was sort of crumbling from the isolation due to Covid, and the household chores were being ignored. I took it upon myself to do many of the chores without complaining, even if they weren’t my assigned tasks. We would write down the chores we did and I did this after doing the lion’s share of chores. One morning, after doing every chore, I heard L** and C***** angrily chatting about the chore log book and saying it was “bullshit” that I did them all, even though they heard me vacuuming, cleaning the washroom etc.

One night, the mop was broken, so I used detergent and a rag to clean the floor on my knees. It wasn’t a big area to clean, so it wasn’t really a big deal. However, I bumped into a mirror that was hanging on the wall and it fell and broke. I made sure to clean up the pieces and then told my roommates to watch out for shards because I wasn’t sure if any had gone under the fridge or might emerge, even though I had scoured the entire area of any sharps. I also had to dispose of the mirror, so I told them I had put it outside. Neither of them saw or heard me, but they quietly nodded as I told them and then retreated back to their rooms.

The day after that I could hear them talking about me upstairs while I watched tv downstairs. “Does she think that, like, she worked at that company, or something?” I heard. “Yeah she broke that mirror and she probably did it on purpose.” What? I went upstairs and asked them if they were going to talk about me to keep their voices down. They were stunned. They then went on to say “we’re not talking about you.” I bluffed and said I had recorded them. “Oh, well we’re very concerned.” Ok, I thought – you weren’t talking about me but you were. Which one is it? They made all sorts of claims and when I responded, asking them again, to simply lower their voice they started making dismissive remarks like, “JUST WOW!” “YIKES!” I didn’t speak to them for the rest of the night. Honestly, saying things like “JUST WOW” and “YIKES” are a dead give away that the person saying it has already made up their mind about you – and that what you said was horrible and they expected it.

The next morning I was asked to take a drug test and passed. A few days passed and things seemed normal again. Then I missed a call with T***** and was issued another yellow card. Whoops.

A few days later things got very strange. Around noon, I saw my roommates dramatically run for the door, get into a car and leave. The tires squealed as they left, as if they were the Dukes of Hazard or something. Then the owner of the house, J* and he husband came over. They began to confront me about breaking the mirror and told me that the psychiatric unit from the hospital was on their way. They insisted that they were worried about me, and I admitted that I was frustrated and depressed so maybe I should go to the hospital.

When the psychiatric unit came, they seemed quite friendly. But they asked me questions that started to make me alarmed. There was a male and female psychiatrist there, and the male asked me if I was paranoid about someone following me, or that the company I worked for that was in the news was stalking me. I didn’t understand where they had heard that I thought that so I was stunned. They then asked me if I thought my roommates were part of a conspiracy to stalk me with the company I claimed to work for. I was agitated, so I expressed my disbelief in why they would come to the conclusion that I would think that. During this time, I did admit that I was experiencing anxiety and agreed to go to the hospital under certain conditions. In my previous dealings with Victoria’s Psych Emerge, I had been repeatedly treated like a criminal. I asked that I not be exposed to this and they agreed.

I rode to the hospital with J*. When I got there she gave me a hug and I was escorted in. I took a drug test and waited to speak with a psychiatrist. I spoke to a nurse, a social worker and several psychiatrists in a private room while security guards looked on. They asked me over, and over, and over again why I had violently broken a mirror. I told them each time that it was an accident. The last psychiatrist I spoke to noted that I was getting agitated and that she was going to give me something.

I was let out of the room and I heard the doctors and nurses debating on whether or not to administer powerful anti-psychotics while restrained in isolation while I sat patiently in the wait room. I sat patiently without showing any signs of violence while they loudly debated restraining me and administering anti-psychotics.

There isn’t a lot of documentation on anti-psychotics and their misuse because no one understands why psychiatrists would prescribe medication that makes people miserable. Unfortunatly, anti-psychotics are lauded for curing everything from anxiety to delusions, depression to psychosis. I don’t doubt they have some benefit in short term use by minimizing psychosis, but their long term use has never been accurately documented and psychiatrist cherry pic anecdotal testimonies about patients who benefitted from them to cure an broad, unbelievable range of psychiatric problems.

I’ll briefly explain how they work: they block dopamine. Dopamine is responsible for regulating the brains reward system. Hard drugs like cocaine, crack, meth, heroin etc. high-jack the brain by flooding the dopamine receptors. People feel good, too good, on these drugs. That’s why they’re addicting. Anti-psychotics do the opposite. How in the hell does high-jacking and retarding the brain’s reward system help with depression if it stops your brain releasing dopamine? They’re tranquilizers in that they make people subdued because they feel nothing. They don’t feel rewarded for their actions. This is good because they may be rendered unable to act violently because they have no desire to do anything. So, that’s good, I guess. It’s good for someone who’s violent and impulsive. Temporarily.

Naturally patients who aren’t violent or don’t fit into categories of psychological distress that require sedation have no idea that a doctor would give them something that would impair them from feeling good, so if they experience the overwhelming negative effects of anti-psychotics, they likely won’t make the connection that they’re actually being caused by the medication the doctor has prescribed to make them feel better. Regardless, they’re non-addicting and some patients reported they feel better, maybe. And, they put people to sleep making agitated patients easier to deal with. So, with that overwhelmingly limited amount of evidence to support the administration of anti-psychotics, they’re given out like candy by psychiatrists all across Canada.

I’m sure psychiatrists don’t do this because their intentions are bad. Big pharmaceutical companies like Johnson and Johnson have made incredibly convincing arguments to support the use of Risperidone, despite overwhelming cases in which males were reported to have grown female breasts, thousands of patients displaying suicidal ideation, mental impairment and brain shrinkage. Marketers from Johnson and Johnson make powerful, emotional pleas to defend this drug – lauding it as a cure all for austistic patients, depressed patients, psychotic patients, bi-polar patients. You name it. And since the goal is to sell, they claim the sale of this drug is both beneficial to them monetarily, while saving the world from mental illness. It’s fucking beautiful, everyone wins!

Anyways – I was force injected with the anti-psychotic Risperidone for 6 excrutiating months in 2018. It was like being stuck in a torture chamber – mental anguish 24 hours a day. I reported the side effects but they were dismissed, repeatedly. I often resorted to using hard drugs just to escape the absolute anguish just for a few hours to watch a tv program. While on Risperidone, I went to the hospital several times because I couldn’t breath, the anxiety was overwhelming. Regardless, no one listened. I was under threat of imprisonment while under the mental health act if I did not take the medication, so to prevent me from not taking it they gave me injections.  It was so unbelievably terrifying. What my psychiatrist at the time did was a crime – but, no one cared. I guess if he believes it works, and I’m telling him it doesn’t and I’m the one taking it, then he must be right. Okay…

After months of fighting for my life on this drug, I admitted myself to rehab, mainly to get off Risperidone so I no longer needed to supplement my drugs with illicit ones just to feel normal. However, I was not informed that Risperidone causes a deadly withdrawal symptoms. The withdrawal included symptoms of anxiety, restlessness, ruminating thoughts, sleeplessness and depression that were so severe I could barely walk. Naturally, my councillor at rehab assumed I was ‘faking it.’ It took roughly 30 days for the injection to wear off. I still experienced some anxiety and was, you guessed it, administered another anti-psychotic. This time it was the lesser of all the evils, Abilify. I trusted the psychiatrist there so I stayed on it. It was a low dose and I was on a few other medications that probably cancelled its effects out including Concerta – a life-saver for people who abuse stimulants to concentrate.

Anyways, fast forward to my recent stay at the hospital this year after J* convinced me to go, where I listened in fear as they debated on putting anti-psychotics in me. I had a wrist band on when I signed in that said not to administer anti-psychotics, but when they asked me about it, they asked me why they couldn’t. I told them I wasn’t under the mental health act and that anti-psychotics caused adverse effects. Frustrated, the doctors just administered my normal sleeping medication.

The next day I was released the doctor I saw told me he didn’t understand why I was admitted in the first place. He believed I hadn’t acted violently and I showed up the confidentiality agreement that was sent to me by my former employer so I could convince him I worked there and wasn’t delusional.

After that, I was free to leave and got on the bus and went home. When I got home I went to the door and tried to get in by punching the buttons to the code on the door lock. Only, the door lock was dead. I rang the doorbell several times and one of my roommates came to the door. I could hear her on the phone, “should I call the cops? SHOULD I CALL THE COPS?” Eventually she opened the door, muttered something at me and I went to my room.

I called J* and told her what happened. She seemed disappointed and upset and told me to call my case-worker since she was busy at work – dealing with Covid (there was no one in the hospital with Covid by the time, but Okay…). I called my case-worker, S*** and he told me that I was being kicked out. He didn’t have time to talk to me much either. Wanting answers I then called T*****. I told her I was very nervous about what was happening and she became very combative. I asked her why I was accused of deliberately breaking a mirror and she asked me why I did it. I then asked her why I was asked if I thought people were after me because of the job thing and she told me that she knows the owner of the company I had worked for and none of that stuff has anything to do with me. I asked her if she, my housemates and J* didn’t believe I worked there and she told me she didn’t believe anything I said and repeated that she’s friends with the owner of the company, they’re handling it and that the newspaper is publishing false claims. She was also insinuating she had told him about me. Girl – my stay at the house was confidential ya’ll can’t go around telling your friends.

I went downstairs since I was worried about what to do and phoned a friend. When I was on the phone, my roommates dramatically ran down the stairs and I heard them say “I’m scared, let’s call the cops! CALL THE COPS!” They then squealed out of the parking lot - like some kinda post-menopausal Thelma and Louise - just as J* came in. J* worked about 45 minutes away but she arrived within 10 minutes of me talking to her when she told me she was at work. So she wasn’t really working like she told me.

J* came in and started talking. She told me that what she was doing was for the safety of the other roommates. I then cut her off and asked her if she had my safety in mind. I reiterated that I was taken to the hospital, interrogated about a mirror breaking and interrogated about being delusional about a job I worked at. She then told me that what she did was what she was told to do in these situations and that she was legally bound to protect the other tenants. Okay…

I wasn’t comfortable with how combative T**** was or that she had told anyone she knew about me and I questioned her qualifications. J* told me she had a bachelor’s degree - later I’d go on to find that was a bachelor’s in marketing (relevant, right?)

I made the case that I was actually put in danger by her and my roommates insinuating that I was delusional and violent – that she took something my roommates said at face value without asking me. She had no intention to uphold my safety since no one told me at the hospital that I was being kicked out, that the door was locked with my valuables inside and no one in my family was informed. What if I came home the night before instead of staying at the hospital – with no access to my belongings, money or phone. What she did put my life in danger. There’s no limit to what my roommates could make up about me – and since their first claims were taken at face value, who knew what else they could fabricate. Those claims were enforced and legitimized. There’s no limit to what someone can fabricate and when those fabrications are endorsed by a superior, the urge to fabricate more – especially in low self-esteem harbouring recovering drug addicts becomes intoxicating. Why feel bad about your mistakes when you can make someone look worse. I get it. I’ve done it.

Fortunately, I learned that my roommate had bunged up a call to the police when I arrived because she couldn’t report that I was doing anything wrong. She just told them I was at the door. They asked why the door was locked to me and if I had been told that I wasn’t allowed in and she said, “no.” I didn’t hear the rest of the call, but I assume they hung up or told her that they were busy with real problems.

Instead of stay and argue, I called my sponsor who told me to get my stuff and leave. I had real fears – their perception of me ruled how they perceived what was going on, so I’d better just vanish. Which I did. My sponsor told me that they wanted a reaction, so I didn’t give it to them. I had to get my dad to pick me up. This for me was the most difficult part since anyone in any position of authority is right compared to me – so even when J* admitted she made a mistake after I made my case, she did so only to my dad (not me of course), I knew he didn’t really believe that. I knew there was always some reason for him to believe I was kinda responsible.

Just some foreground on my dad – when I was growing up he’d abuse my brother and I verbally and for a brief time physically. The later stopped when my brother punched him straight in the face and knocked him out. His verbal abuse continued, belittling me for things I did because I was dreadfully shy. He called me a loser with no personality in my graduating year. Made me ashamed of my interests. Would talk me out of seeking out better opportunities because he had so many doubts about my abilities. Scary stuff.

So naturally, even if my roommates and J* had done something wrong to me – who the fuck cares, its me, I am the source of all the problems because of the way people think of me. I have no money, no job, lying junky, so – whatever.

A few days later after I left, a resident from one of the other houses owned by J* asked me what happened and I told her. I didn’t want to seem like I was “delusional” or that I feared them in anyway since they might use this as a means to have my committed again.

A few days after that, the same resident told me that C****** had moved out. This struck fear in me. I don’t know where she is, and since the house I lived with her in was a good 45 minutes away, I trusted I wouldn’t run into her at meetings etc. because of this. But, now, I have no idea where she is.  I don’t wish her any harm, I just wish to never see her again. I don’t fear her for reasons that are unrealistic. They’re based on things that happened: bold displays of fear about me when I’m doing nothing to her culminating in cartoon worthy behaviour fleeing from the house while shouting things she obviously wants me to hear about calling the cops..Bitch, if you were really scared you would have already done called the cops. Also, the weird stories about knights in shinning armour on motorcycles and modelling scouts, impaired mentality from suboxone and/or illicit drugs to supplement. Bunkers, relationships with men who’ve never met her. etc.

L** blocked me on Facebook, which is alarming for me since she could have some fake profiles looking at my posts in order to try and twist something I write into a threat to her. I just stick to posts about animals and wholesome stuff.

See I have real fears, based on facts because things actually happened to me based on things that people fabricated. But I’m not going to call the cops. I won’t waste their time. I doubt either of these too people can effectively cause me any harm physically - but who knows what they might say behind my back. Fuck it, I’ll just fabricate stuff about them. I’m a better story teller anyways. If people don’t believe me at least they’ll enjoy my story.

I can only guess that the whole delusions about where I worked concept was spawn from some deep seeded disbelief that anyone who had a drug problem could have a professional life, since neither L** or C******* did. Everything seems unbelievable when you’re so self-centered that you only think your level of success is the benchmark for anyone else in your state of recovery.

See, L** and C****** are career abusers. They always failed. They never were anything. Their stories are lengthy ones, filled with selfish actions to feed their addiction. Of course someone else in their situation couldn’t have been anything else but what they were or worse. They can’t see beyond their own experience. And they can’t see beyond the wonderful world they’ve created in recovery – vindication from their failures by parroting their peers in recovery. That’s the easy way out and it takes no effort. It’s a formula. 

Go fuck yourselves. All of you.

Bye.

[mackinmacki]

Falling for You

Rating: K+

Word Count: 8548

Summary: Weiss works as a nurse at a hospital. Ruby injured her ankle. It was destiny that Weiss becomes annoyed with the overly-flirtatious patient... and annoyed with herself, because she kind of likes it.

Pairing: White Rose

Notes: This is for day six of White Rose Week. Topic: Recovery.

Link: (FFN) | (AO3)

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"Weiss, we need a wheelchair up at the front." Sighing deeply, Weiss went off to grab one without answering. She got instantly frustrated every time she had to do what she called the 'grunt work'. "Get a wheelchair," or "Get more washcloths," or "Get the patient who wormed his way out of room 117 again." There was a lot of 'getting', as it turned out. That was not what had led her to this profession. She'd wanted to be a doctor and save lives so she could assuage the guilt inside her over the terrible things her father was allowed to do. This did not do anything to make her feel better about her family legacy. They could be a little more considerate, she felt.

For now, she was stuck as a nurse doing menial things - by her logic, anyhow - and not saving lives. She was being forced to head into the nearby storage closet and pull out a folded-up wheelchair, carrying it over to the front for whichever moron had hurt themselves doing God knows what. Logically, she didn't know what the story was for this person, or who this person was in the first place. She felt pretty confident that she was frustrated with them, though. Them, or this whole situation. They were just unlucky enough to get her mental wrath.

She walked into the hallway, took one look at the front door, and promptly dropped the wheelchair. There were two young women at the check-in desk: a large blonde woman with a smaller black-haired woman on her back. It was like she was giving the other woman a piggyback ride, which was both ridiculous and childish. At least she thought so. She had noticed that the smaller woman had one of her legs wrapped up, so it was clear she was the one in need of the wheelchair. When she had turned her head to look down the hall a moment later, Weiss was suddenly glad that was the case.

The woman was super cute. She must've been in some degree of pain, with her hurt leg and all, but she still was all smiles, and what a smile. It was the most innocent, cutest smile she'd ever seen in her entire life. Not that she saw a ton of smiles in a doctor's office of all places, and her time around her father's associates had shown her a lot of fake smiles, but... it was a good one, alright? Super cute smile, super cute face, with curious mercury eyes scanning every which way. And then they fell right on Weiss. And that was why the wheelchair was now on the floor.

Her cheeks burned as she scrambled to pick back up the wheelchair. When she looked towards the front again, she could see the woman giggling. That just made her embarrassment worse, because there was no doubt that cutie had seen her make a fool of herself. She wished she could go back in time to this morning and call in sick. Who was working on time travel technology anyway? They weren't doing a good job of it. With a resigned sigh, she popped open the wheelchair and wheeled it over, refusing to make any eye contact on the short walk there.

"Ah, here you go!" The woman at the front desk pointed at Weiss with a smile, which meant all eyes were now on her. Normally this wasn't a big deal, but since two of those eyes belonged to someone she had developed an instant crush on, she instantly shrunk under the attention. "Ms. Schnee will take you to room 215. If you would please put Ms. Rose in the chair and follow Ms. Schnee?" With a nod, the amazonian blonde let Ms. Rose down off her back with a gentleness that belied her strong appearance. Gingerly, she limped over to the chair, grabbing the sides and lowering herself onto the seat. Weiss could see her visibly wince as she set her right foot on the footplate, but she didn't make any pained noises. That was impressive: according to Winter, Weiss would 'wail like a dying bird' whenever she so much as stubbed her toe. She didn't like the comparison much.

With hands on the grips, Weiss wheeled Ms. Rose down the hall, with the blonde walking on her left. Rose was a cute last name befitting a cute woman such as herself. She really shouldn't get attached, though. Soon enough, Ms. Rose would get her leg looked at, they'd decide what course of action to take, and then she'd be gone. They'd likely never see each other again, and it wasn't worth losing her mind like that over a simple crush. She'd already done that months ago with the weird beret chick who'd fractured her arm, and she wasn't about to do that again. Oh, but she was really, really cute...

And she was also looking at her? Weiss frowned slightly, noticing that Ms. Rose was staring at her arms specifically. "Is there something I can help you with?" She wasn't sure what about her arms was so fascinating that Ms. Rose just had to turn around to look at them. Was there something wrong with them? Now she was looking at them too, trying to see if something had gotten stuck to them, or if there was some sort of mark that she hadn't noticed. She suddenly felt very self-conscious about looking bad in front of this woman.

"No, that's okay. I was just trying to see if you had a ring on your finger." Weiss accidentally kneed the back of the wheelchair, sputtering in complete disbelief. She couldn't believe that Ms. Rose had just said that, but she couldn't work her mind around what else it could've been. Was she trying to see if she was married?! For what point? Was she hitting on her? After she'd just told herself that she couldn't go crushing on a patient again? That just wasn't fair. The big blonde was laughing, and she couldn't tell if this was all one big joke or not.

"Excuse me?! My marital status is none of your business!" She righted herself and continued pushing Ms. Rose to the elevator, trying her best to gain control of the situation. "I am not married, if you must know." So much for it not being any of her business. Her blush came back in full stride at the sound of both women giggling, and she was strongly considering making them both go up the stairs on their own. "Do you try to determine if every person you come across is married or not?"

"Only the really cute ones. Ow, my good leg!" The smooth delivery of Ms. Rose was interrupted by Weiss ramming her into the elevator doors. She had definitely not been expecting to hear that, and her embarrassment had overridden her motor skills again. Under normal circumstances, she would've apologized profusely for doing that, but she'd kind of deserved that for being so shameless. On her left, the blonde was almost beside herself with laughter. She really should've called in sick... "That's not funny, Yang!"

"Should've seen that coming, Ruby." Yang was still laughing as an embarrassed Weiss hit the 'up' button for the elevator. The ten seconds they had to stand there and wait felt like an eternity for her. She both wanted to die and dump Ruby right out of the chair. Her brain couldn't deal with all the information that was trying to drill its way inside. She had just met Ruby two minutes ago and had immediately thought she was cute. Now this cute woman was claiming that she was also cute, and she'd been actively trying to see if she was married or not. How was she supposed to handle this? Not well, obviously.

A little 'ding' sounded above them, and the elevator doors slid open. Weiss wheeled Ruby inside, with Yang following behind. When they were all in, Weiss pressed the '2' button and watched the doors slide closed. Her mind was racing too fast to concentrate on that, though. She was trying to think about if she should make a move on Ruby. Would that be appropriate, or was Ruby going to be the one to make the move? Or maybe this was all a big joke and she'd look like a moron for trying. Or maybe it was irrelevant because she had no flirting skills and she'd probably fall on her face while attempting to. Figuratively, and maybe literally as well.

"Uh, Ms.Schnee? The elevator doors are closing?" Weiss snapped back to reality, realizing that they'd reached the second floor... and now the doors were closing again. Luckily, Yang was able to hit the open button in time, letting them all leave the elevator without having to go another round. Weiss was now both embarrassed and frustrated: mostly at herself, but she was always willing to shift the blame elsewhere. In this case, it went right to Ruby, who shouldn't be so cute and smooth. It was making things a lot harder, and that was absolutely her fault. She shouldn't have hurt her damn leg.

"This will be your room. A doctor will be with you shortly." She wheeled Ruby into room 215, situating her next to the check-up bed. It would make it easier for her to get onto it when the doctor was ready to examine her. Not that she'd made Weiss's job any easier, but doing this was part of her job description. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask." She regretted saying it as soon as it left her mouth, but it was routine at this point. The way Ruby's eyes lit up, she knew that she wasn't getting away that easy.

"Do I really need a doctor? I think all I need is for you to kiss it better." She leaned forward in the wheelchair and winked, sending Weiss's poor heart into hysterics. Never in her life had anyone hit on her this directly. She wasn't being subtle about it at all, and it made it really difficult for her to know what to do. So she did the only thing that came naturally to her: acting indignant and storming out.

"I guarantee you that will not help you with your pain. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to." She turned on her heel and left the room, letting the door close behind her before she kicked at the air in frustration. Yang's laughter coming from the room didn't help matters. In the moment, she felt incredibly insulted, but as she gained distance from Ruby, she felt incredibly stupid instead. She'd just had the cutest girl she ever met all but ask her out, and she'd completely brushed her off. Despite finding her unbearably dateable. Why was she so socially inept? No one else in her family was like this. Who had she gotten this genetic malfunction from?

She struggled at her job for the next half hour, barely paying attention because all she could think of was that gorgeous smile. For someone with an injured leg, Ruby sure did a good job of running around her head. She couldn't get a single moment of peace, and it was all Ruby's fault. Eventually she just had to have one thought go through her head enough times until she could believe it: that eventually Ruby was going to go home, and they would never see each other again. She would move on and continue working the same job with half dedication, half low-key self-loathing, and she would never get that close to a patient again, no matter how cute they were. That was actually kind of depressing... Maybe she needed to word that better.

Their paths would cross again, whether she was ready for it or not. The doctor called for her, asking for her to come back in and finish things up. It turned out to have just been an ankle sprain: could've definitely been worse. Now she had to go back in there, make sure Ruby understood everything, then wheel her outside to her car. Well, this was unfortunate. Or fortunate, depending on one's point of view. To her, it was both. Whether it was this or that, she was not prepared to deal with this. She actually felt like her stress was going to make her throw up, thinking about having to show her face again to those two.

In the end, she went back inside because that was her job. She would follow the instructions of authority even if what she had to do made her die inside, and make no mistake: she was dying inside. Not for the reason she expected, though. As soon as she entered the room, Ruby's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and her own heart once again considered going into cardiac arrest. At least she was in an emergency room. Not many better places to be to have life-threatening heart problems. Either here or a morgue...

"Yang, tongue depressor, stat!" Weiss just stared, flabbergasted as Yang reached over and stole one of the tongue depressors. That was not their property! She was going to tell them both off, but Ruby stopped her before she could say anything. "Can I borrow your pen, Ms. Schnee?" She pointed at Weiss's shirt pocket, which had a pen clipped onto it. Weiss looked down at it, then back at Ruby, eyes narrowing.

"Borrow or steal?"

"I would never be so callous as to steal something from a pretty maiden!" Embarrassed, Weiss pointed at the tongue depressor. "Oh, this?" She held it up, smiling sheepishly. "To be fair, Yang stole that." Sighing, Weiss handed her pen over to Ruby, who started writing something on the tongue depressor. She then handed both it and the pen back to Weiss, who immediately looked to see what had been written. On it was a phone number, with 'Ruby' written next to it. No way...

"What is this?" She held it in her hand like she was afraid of snapping it in half. It seemed impossible that Ruby would just give her her number, but it'd seemed impossible that she'd openly flirt with her in the first place. Her brain was going to overload again: it just needed a few seconds.

"It's my number. You know, in case you wanted to call me and schedule a house call. I might need a pair of skilled hands to check on my ankle." She leaned back in the wheelchair and licked her lips suggestively. "And anything else that might be ailing me." Yup, Weiss was panicking. The ultimate crush panic that was, funny enough, threatening to crush her underneath its weight. She didn't even notice herself putting her pen and the tongue depressor in her shirt pocket, nor did she feel herself moving over to Ruby's wheelchair. It wasn't until she had grabbed the handles that she got some kind of a grip on the situation. At the same time, all the stress of her terrible first impression and her constant internal crisis made a coordinated assault on her brain. It all exploded upon her gray matter, the fallout drifting around her mind like little clouds.

"Perhaps you do need a house call." Her voice faltered as she spoke, dipping low before rising sharply. She knocked the top of Ruby's head with her knuckles. "For your clear brain damage, I mean." Out of all the unintentional comedy of the last thirty-plus minutes, that was the one that did Yang in. That was the humorous straw that broke the camel's back. She just about choked on her laughter, dropping to her knees as she stared wide-eyed at their feet. Her hands massaged at her throat, gasping for air.

"That's... so funny... I can't breathe... Save me, nurse." She fell onto her side, her laughter coming out in wheezes. Weiss rolled her eyes at the display, but she did come around in case she actually needed to help. Thankfully she didn't end up needing to perform CPR on this dunce. She would survive this day, popping back onto her feet and wiping the tears from her eyes. "Oh, this is great. You're funny, Schnee. You should sprain your ankle more often, Ruby."

"I'll consider it if Ms. Schnee gets to take care of me every time." She smiled up at Weiss, hopeful and confident and oh-so stupidly cute. It just wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

"I'm going to transfer to another office if I catch you in here again." She started to push Ruby out of the room, her steps careful so as to not upset the tongue depressor in her pocket. It was the most important piece of medical equipment she'd ever had on her person, and she had to make sure it made it home safely. Was she going to call Ruby? She honestly wasn't sure. Her heart was wanting her to call it right now, with Ruby five inches in front of her. However, her brain was more hesitant for multiple reasons. It was very contradictory and made it difficult to know what was the right course of action.

The trip down the elevator and out of the building was relatively harmless. Ruby kept trying to flirt with her, and she would either not respond or say something out of embarrassment. No matter what, it was endlessly entertaining for Yang. Well at least someone got enjoyment out of her abject misery. Maybe Yang was going to find herself needing a trip to the doctor soon enough...

They got down to the car, where Yang helped Ruby out of the wheelchair and into the passenger seat. Before the door was closed on her, Ruby made sure to wink at Weiss, which made her blush despite her trying to absolutely not do that. Yang turned to her then, looking as if she wanted to say something. Instead, she just laughed and walked around the car, infuriating Weiss. How dare she laugh at her! For the tenth time over the past hour. The absolute audacity of that amazonian aggravator.

With a huff, she folded up the wheelchair and took it back into the building, refusing to spare a glance back at their retreating car. She was able to keep up her appearance all the way to the storage closet, where she put back the wheelchair. Then, in the safety of the closet, she collapsed into a sitting position and hid her face in her hands. What had just happened? How had any of that happened? Maybe it was all just a hallucination and she hadn't actually acted like a complete numskull in front of someone actively flirting with her. Or maybe she'd just rather be hallucinating than admitting the truth.

She pulled out the tongue depressor and held it carefully in her hand, staring down at the number scrawled upon it. Pulling out her phone, she copied it into a new contact, naming it Ruby Rose. She leaned back against the door and sighed deeply, feeling a rush of excitement and anxiety clawing at her stomach as they fought within her. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to call a patient who was super cute and had been actively flirting with her, but had also been kind of annoying and had a very annoying compatriot with her?

"Yeah... Yeah I am, dammit."

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Saying that she was anxious about calling Ruby was an understatement. She'd hoped that giving herself a day to calm down before making the call would help. It had not. Sitting on her bed, she was staring at her phone as if it had contracted the plague. Ruby's contact page was up, with her thumb hovering over the call button. She'd checked the tongue depressor four separate times to make sure the numbers were the same, and even then she was still feeling unsure. It'd be embarrassing if she ended up calling a random number. Okay, but it'd be even more embarrassing if she called the right number, and then proceeded to make a fool of herself as she'd done the previous day.

Eventually her screen dimmed, nearly shutting off because she'd had it on without touching the screen for too long. She touched the screen to light it back up, then decided that she was being ridiculous. It wasn't like her to be this anxious about calling someone back. Just because they had been flirting with her, and she was a complete amateur at such things, and this woman was really cute... Okay, so it all made sense. That didn't mean she couldn't do it. She just needed to imagine it was just a normal call. With that in mind, she bit the bullet and hit the call button.

"Hello, stranger! Might this be Ms. Schnee?" She picked up on the second ring. That was faster than she'd expected. Well, now Ruby was on the other line. It was time for her to say hi back: to confirm that it was indeed her on the other line. Or she could remain silent for such a long time that it became noticeable. "Ms. Schnee?" She could hang up and pretend that this never happened... "Is this a robot caller?"

"Weiss."

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

"That's my name. Call me Weiss." Alright, a slow start, but she was picking it up. She could at least avoid a platinum sombrero at this rate. "I suppose we should get right to the point. How's your ankle doing?" Talking to people like she would at her job helped her get through some of the harder trials of conversation. Doubly so if it involved something that was about her job and what it entailed. She could work around to what she truly wanted to get at this way.

"It's doing just dandy! I just gotta avoid putting too much pressure on it for a bit and I'm sure I'll be good to go!" God, it was like she could see her smile through the phone. "I'm sure it'll feel even better if you were to come check on it, though." There was a cavalier attitude in her tone that Weiss wasn't sure whether she adored or abhorred. "You're a doctor, ain'tcha? I'm sure you know lots of things about the human body." There was a certain undertone to that sentence, but it was lost to Weiss in that moment.

"I'm not a doctor." She tried to say it in a matter-of-fact way, but the bitterness seeped into her tone. "I'm a nurse, but yes, I do know a lot of things about the human body." Yup, the implication had escaped her. "If... you need a house call, then I'm sure I can assist you there. However, I do not do these sorts of things for free. If you wish to have me come examine you, you will at least need to treat me to dinner."

"Aye aye, Weiss! Have you eaten dinner already?"

"Uh, no, I haven't."

"Great! Then you can come over for dinner tonight, yes? I'll order pizza and you can make sure I'm alright. There'll be no need to check you, because I already know you're fine." Weiss felt her cheeks grow warm, but Ruby kept talking before she could let out an audible groan. "I'll text you my address. Is six okay?"

"Yes, that should be acceptable."

"Great! I'll see you soon, 'kay? See ya, Weiss!"

"Goodbye, Ruby." They hung up, and Weiss fell down onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling, barely believing that had happened. That had been the plan admittedly, and for the most part it had gone off without a hitch. Though she couldn't yet admit it to herself, she had wanted to go see Ruby, but she could only agree to it under the guise of this 'house call'. It was a ruse and they both knew it, yet she wasn't about to admit that truth. She was even getting dinner out of it, even if pizza wasn't the most romantic or healthy of meals. That meant this was a date, though. Their first date. Her first date. Ever.

What was she doing laying in bed when she only had an hour to get ready? An hour! How could she agree to something on such short notice? This wasn't like her at all. Dropping her phone on the bed, she leaped up and hurried to her closet, looking for the perfect outfit to wear. She didn't want to look too casual for what was clearly a first date, but she didn't want to go overboard with her outfit selection. There were plenty of elegant dresses for her to wear, but she got a pretty casual vibe from Ruby just from their first meeting. It might weird her out if she showed up at her door in a thousand dollar ballgown.

She ended up going with a pale blue dress and white heels, which was a staple of every outfit she owned. Being five feet tall on a good day meant she wasn't going to be caught dead without something to prop her up a few inches. Her lack of height was a constant source of consternation, especially since her sister had about half a head on her. At least her younger brother was her height... while she was in heels, and when he was in high school. The vertical gene of the Schnee family had clearly skipped her, and she was pissed about it. Where was her growth spurt, dammit?!

She spent the entire drive over to Ruby's place fretting. Regardless of how much confidence she exuded in her daily life, on the inside she was wracked with insecurities on the daily. After more than a decade of dealing with it, she'd gotten used to it, but it didn't make it any less of an intrusive presence. She was worried to death about making a better second impression than she had originally, because she felt that she wasn't going to succeed. If she kept deluding herself into believing it was actually a house call, maybe she would get through it okay, but she wasn't so sure about that.

The walk up to Ruby's apartment didn't quell her nerves much. It'd been relatively steady as she'd been forced to park in the visitor's section, but it'd started to grow as she made her way to Ruby's section. It was worse as she climbed the stairs, but when she actually reached the door, she thought that maybe she was going to have a heart attack. Her stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out, and she had to wonder why she'd asked to be treated to dinner. There was no way she was going to be able to eat anything in this state. She could still turn around and walk off at this point. She could call Ruby and apologize, saying she hadn't felt good and felt it best to stay home.

That was the coward's way out, though. As tempting as it was to be a coward, she needed to do this. If for nothing else, than at least to be a gracious guest. So it was with incredible trepidation that she knocked on the door. Clasping her hands in front of her, she took a deep breath and tried to hide the fact that she was shaking. She stared at the peephole and forced her gaze to lock with it, finding some sort of comfort in the eye contact with an inanimate object. It had little chance of intimidating her.

"Oh hey, you're not the pizza guy." Ruby beamed at the sight of Weiss on her doorstep, winking at her. "I bet you're tastier than pizza, though." Giggling, she stepped back to let Weiss in, not missing the eye roll as she came inside. Ruby closed the door and locked the main lock, facing Weiss again. "The pizza should be here real soon, but you can make yourself comfortable on the couch if you want."

"Alright." Weiss headed over to the couch to sit down. She kept her heels on, though she knew it was usually rude to leave your shoes on indoors. Not even in the comforts of someone else's home was she going to give up the height advantage the heels gave her, especially because she already around Ruby's height from the get go. Usually people were too intimidated by her to ask her to remove them, and she used that to her advantage. Was it really that big of a deal, anyway? It shouldn't cause any problems.

"Your place looks... nice." She paused, but she wasn't lying. It wasn't much of a place, but it was clean, at least. She'd had this feeling that she was going to walk into a complete mess, but it would appear that she'd misjudged Ruby. Either that or she'd just hastily cleaned it before she'd gotten there. There was a good possibility of that being the case.

"Thanks!" Ruby sat down on the couch next to Weiss, keeping a relatively respectable distance. She was wearing a red sweater and what looked like a fresh pair of black jeans: definitely more casual than the dress Weiss had on. Either she was overdressed, or Ruby was under-dressed. It probably wasn't important to figure that out now, but it did help make her feel a bit more awkward all the same. "Do you want something to drink? I've got water, juice, soda... uh, milk, wine." She laughed, noticeably glancing down at the space between them.

"Water will be fine, thanks." She wished that the pizza would arrive, because it would put their focus on their food instead of this conversation. Small talk was not her strong suit. She was more about speaking about the topic at hand, making decisive points, and then returning to silence. Knowing she needed to keep a conversation going with someone she barely knew made her feel anxious. Well, more anxious, anyway. "So, the blonde that was with you: Yang? Is she a friend of yours?"

"Nah, she's my sister." Weiss stared at her in disbelief. She looked over Ruby, then thought about how Yang looked from the previous day. There weren't any similarities between the two that she could tell. "I can tell that you don't believe me." Ruby sighed, clearly having gotten that look before. "We're half-sisters. Different moms. I know we don't look all that much alike. She got all the curves." Ruby stuck out her tongue, looking a bit sore at that fact. Maybe she and Weiss had something in common after all.

"I... hadn't really noticed."

"Uh huh..." Ruby crossed her arms, pouting at Weiss. Even that was ridiculously cute... "I bet you're thinking of her curves right now!" Weiss's eyes widened, sputtering in shock. "Every time I try to mack on a cute girl, they always fall for my busty older sister. Maybe I need to find a different wingwoman..."

"I did not fall for Yang, thank you very much!" She was blushing again, but she wasn't about to take that sitting down. "I came over to your apartment for a house call, didn't I? I didn't ask to go over to Yang's."

"She wasn't injured, though. Why would you go over there for a house call?"

"It's not a real house call, dammit! Don't act like we're being serious about that now!" Ruby's eyes widened at Weiss's sudden outburst, but then she started grinning. Oh jeez, she'd played her hand, hadn't she? Why was she like this? Sweating nervously, she had never been so thankful to hear the sound of knocking at the door. Saved by the pizza guy, of all people. "Hey, it's the pizza! Better go answer the door!"

"Guess I will, since my doctor isn't going to check my poor, injured ankle." She laughed at the offended look on Weiss's face, getting on her feet and walking to the door. Weiss frowned slightly at the slight limp in Ruby's step, clearly favoring her good foot. She didn't like seeing her in pain, but no aspiring doctor would want to see someone in pain. Unless that person had made too many jokes at their expense.

"Alright, pizza's here!" Cradling the pizza box against her stomach, Ruby shut and locked the door before starting to carry them to the kitchen. Seeing her limping as she walked over didn't sit right with Weiss, making her stand up and take the box out of her hands. "Weiss, what are you doing?"

"You're clearly in no condition to carry pizza right now. Let me carry it." She took it away from Ruby and strode into the kitchen. Well, kitchen-adjacent, really. The plastic folding table that Ruby was using wasn't exactly in the kitchen, but right next to it. She supposed that was fine as she set the box down in the middle of the table. Eating on a cheap table wasn't something she was used to, but something in her mind told her she'd be better off not bringing it up. Maybe save that for another date. "Now, where do you keep your glasses?"

"Are you saying I have a vision problem?"

"What? No, I... what?" Weiss didn't understand. Not until she heard Ruby laughing, and she put the pieces together. She wondered if it'd be worth it to pick up the pizza and throw it at her. Maybe... "You know what I mean..."

"I do, and I know that I can pour you a glass of water." Ruby walked into the kitchen and grabbed a clear glass from a cabinet. "I could've carried the pizza too. I sprained my ankle: I didn't break it. I'm not completely useless." She laughed again, opening the fridge and pulling out a jug of water, which she started to pour into Weiss's glass. "So you should sit your cute butt down at the table and let me be a good host."

"I... suppose that's fair." Weiss sat down at the table despite all her instincts telling her to get up and do those things herself. She didn't want Ruby overexerting herself with an ankle that was aching, no matter how fine she proclaimed to be. And she was fine- Er, anyway... She made herself stay at the table, waiting for Ruby to bring her a glass of water. That came just a few seconds later, and a plate was placed in front of her a few more seconds after that. She would then finish off with a plate of her own, balancing a soda and a pizza slicer on it.

"Just in case the pizza isn't sliced properly." It was, though, so the pizza cutter sat useless at the edge of the table. Both of them each grabbed a piece and began to dig in. Just like her pick in refreshments, her choice in pizza was plain: literally, in this case. It was just a regular cheese pizza, which suited her just fine. It was the exact opposite for Ruby, who had bacon, meatballs, and tomatoes on her half of the slices. It was almost an overload of toppings, but Ruby seemed to handle it just fine.

"You're not hungry, Weiss?" While Ruby had rather quickly scarfed down two of her four slices, Weiss hadn't even passed the halfway point on her first. She grimaced, having held a vain hope that Ruby wouldn't notice. As much as she'd tried to force the food down, her stomach just wasn't willing to take it. She felt like she'd end up throwing up if she ate any more. Having Ruby realize that she was struggling in that regard only made the nerves that had caused those struggles to intensify.

"I..." She took a sip of water, staring at the clear liquid. If she knew how to do the magic trick where she could dive into a cup of water and drown, she'd certainly do it now. "I'm nervous, okay?" She groaned and leaned back in her chair, hating that she'd admit to that weakness. "This is my first date, and I can't stop worrying about what kind of impression I'm making. I don't even know anything about you except your name." She folded her hands in her lap, biting down on her lower lip. "Does that make sense?"

"Totally! I mean, yeah, I understand. I'm nervous too, but I think we're off to a good start! I mean, you came over, so that's pretty good. And you're really pretty, plus you weren't hypnotized by my sister's boobs. I'd consider this an absolute win so far!" Weiss blushed, rolling her eyes at Ruby's very specific optimism. She had somewhat of a point, though. The only thing that was really off about the date was her own inner insecurities. Everything else seemed fine from a logistical standpoint. "Would you feel better if you knew more about me?"

"Yes, actually." Weiss perked up a little, feeling that they might actually be getting somewhere now. She'd get to know something about the woman she'd agreed to go on a date with, which felt like rather pertinent information to her.

"Let's see... My name is Ruby Rose. I'm 24 years old, and I have an older sister named Yang. You met her. I have a degree in history and I'm currently working as a tour guide at the local museum. Kinda hard to do that with a sprained ankle, ahaha. Anyway, I like physical activity, especially soccer. Yang and I play with some locals for funsies at the field nearby. That's how I sprained my ankle, actually. And, um..." She tapped her chin in thought, with Weiss hoping that tapping finger hadn't gotten covered in pizza grease. "I like strawberries and... pretty women. Actual women, not the movie. The movie's okay."

"I see. Well, it's nice to know something about you. More than your proclivity for injury, at least." Weiss smiled, taking another sip of water. "I suppose I should reciprocate. You already know my name and occupation, but I'm 26 and I'm still in school working to become a doctor. I also have a minor in business. I'm... interested in classical music, and I sang in competitions when I was younger. I do a lot of reading, and... and I have an older sister as well. A younger brother too."

"You have an older sister too? Another thing we have in common! Maybe your sister should start dating my sister-" The narrowed eyes of Weiss cut Ruby off. "Okay, maybe not. I guess that'd be weird, honestly. What if they hit it off and we both walked in on them doing it-" The eyes only became narrower. "I... should probably stop talking. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." She grabbed her third slice of pizza and started eating it, giving the conversation a bit of breathing room.

"You're a very interesting person, Ruby. You're not the usual type of person I become acquainted with." The people that Weiss had been carefully curated for her when she was younger. As a private school kid, she didn't have many choices when it came to friends, and that was further diluted due to her father's hand. He would make sure she was only surrounded by kids with the highest potential, even if she didn't care much for them in the slightest. Maybe that stunted her social growth, as her friendships in college were few and far between. There was certainly no one like Ruby in her life: someone who smiled nearly every second they'd been around each other and shared her life with strangers in such a carefree manner. It was... intriguing, to say the least.

"I get that a lot." Ruby polished off her third slice, immediately going for her fourth and final one. "Yang always told me to be myself, and the people who would be my real friends would stick with me. Sometimes I feel it might be easier if I calmed down, but..." She took a bite, barely remembering to swallow it before speaking. "I feel more comfortable just being me."

"That's certainly an admirable way of living life." If only she could do the same. Talking about each other was calming in a way, enough to where Weiss's stomach didn't feel like tearing its way out of her body and heading for the hills. She was even able to eat the rest of her first piece of pizza, suddenly feeling the hunger that she should've been feeling from not eating in the last few hours.

Weiss was able to eat a second slice, but she ended up leaving the other two for Ruby. They were left in the box and put in the fridge for later eating, and the two of them ended up back on the couch. Weiss wasn't sure how long she was supposed to stay during the date. Not that she wanted to leave, but she didn't know what the appropriate timing was. Obviously she wasn't going to stay the whole night, but... she wouldn't mind staying on the couch with Ruby for a couple more hours. Even if they ran out of things to talk about, she was comfortable with silence.

"I'm gonna get another soda. You want some more water?" Ruby looked over at Weiss, who just shook her head no. Smiling, Ruby stood up and headed into the kitchen, but no sooner had she disappeared from view that Weiss heard a pained shout. "Ow! Motherf...urrrr, shoot... God..." In a flash, Weiss was up on her feet and rushing into the kitchen, where she saw Ruby leaning back against the refrigerator and holding her foot.

"What happened?" She immediately went into 'sure wish I was an actual doctor' mode, dropping down to her knee s and batting Ruby's hands away. "Move! Let me see." She held Ruby's foot gingerly, taking a good look at it. There didn't appear to be any damage, though Ruby let out a quiet moan of pain when she touched her toes. It may have hurt, but she needed to check to make sure they weren't broken. "Flex your toes for me, Ruby." She did so, which was a relief. "Okay, nothing's broken, at least." She let go of Ruby's foot and allowed her to gently place it back down on the ground. "What happened?"

"I, uh, accidentally kicked the fridge door." She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. "With uh... my bad foot, so... it kinda hurt..." She looked up at the ceiling, not meeting Weiss's gaze. "I'm cool, I swear." That made Weiss laugh for the first time that evening, which made Ruby look back down at her. Though Weiss tried to cover it with her hand, it was obvious that she was smiling: a real, legitimate smile. Ruby found herself unable to look away, though Weiss remained temporarily oblivious to it.

"Does this happen to you often?" Weiss didn't mean to laugh, but the situation just elicited a chuckle out of her. Besides, Ruby and her sister had been joking around at her expense yesterday, so turnabout was fair play. Ruby nodded, pouting when Weiss laughed again. "You ought to be more careful. If you want to see me more often, then you should ask me out on another date. That must be easier than injuring yourself repeatedly." True, but Ruby was only half-listening. She was still so captivated by Weiss's smile. It was stunningly pretty, and it made her lips look so... kissable. God, she wanted to kiss her, first date style. Whatever that meant.

Weiss did not expect to get kissed, she'd admit. She wasn't prepared for Ruby to suddenly lean in and press her lips to hers. That was why she didn't reciprocate: she was too shocked to respond. Her eyes widened and she stood stock-still, the gears of her mind turning to figure out what was happening. When she did, she put her hands on Ruby's shoulders and pushed her away. Instantly, she regretted it, because that must've seemed like she didn't want it. It had just all happened so suddenly. She needed a warning before being kissed like that!

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Wow, that was completely accidental. I didn't actually mean to do that-"

"It's not that I didn't like that. I did, but, wait-"

"Your lips taste really good! Maybe that's the pizza, but I probably shouldn't be saying that." Surprisingly, it was Weiss who was the first to stop babbling. She would've thought that it'd be her who kept going past the point of sensibilities. "I'm really, really sorry. I don't know what came over me." Weiss gently touched her lips, still feeling the sensation of Ruby's lips having been on them for the first time. "I mean, I do. It's because your smile is so pretty that I couldn't not kiss you, but I shouldn't have done it. That was way out of line and I-"

"Ruby." While she appreciate the apology, this was getting out of hand. She wanted Ruby to stop rambling, but she didn't know how to do it.

"Weiss, I'm sorry, if you could forgive-" Now it was Ruby's turn to freeze in surprise. The only way Weiss determined that could shut Ruby up was to kiss her, so kiss her she did. When she leaned in and did the deed, she hadn't really thought about the fact that she was doing it. Once that became plainly obvious, her first instinct was to pull away and get right back to the embarrassed babbling they had sunk into. She didn't follow through with that instinct, though. Instead, she found that she quite liked the feeling of their lips together, and she decided that she wanted to keep doing it.

If Weiss was okay with it, then Ruby wasn't going to duplicate her previous actions and push her away. She kissed her back with a restrained eagerness, not wanting to go too ham and break things off again. Weiss put her hands on Ruby's hips and pushed her back against the fridge, an entire minute filled with nothing but kisses. They'd kiss until they ran out of breath, then leave time just to suck in air before getting right back to it. Weiss was astounded by how good Ruby's lips felt: how they tasted. If she'd known it was like this, she wouldn't have waited this many years to do it.

Eventually they stopped, resting their foreheads against each other. Weiss was panting heavily, her heart racing in her chest. She'd never felt like that before: so... alive. It was like some slumbering beast of kissing had awakened within her soul and demanded control of her body. She could barely remember her impetus for doing such a thing. Yes, she'd wanted to stop Ruby from going on and on, but that hadn't been her plan. It had just... happened. It had happened, and she couldn't find a single cell in her body that felt bad about doing it.

"My foot doesn't hurt anymore." Ruby laughed breathlessly, her chest heaving. She wanted to lay down all of a sudden, preferably with Weiss wrapped up in her arms. "That... I didn't expect that." She hadn't expected it, but she sure as hell enjoyed it.

"I didn't either." Weiss felt dizzy, with only the feeling of Ruby in front of her keeping her stable. "I just... needed to shut you up for a moment..."

"Then maybe I should keep talking if that's how you're gonna shut me up." That wasn't such a bad idea, though Weiss still rolled her eyes at her.

"Shut up, Ruby." Regardless, she kissed her again, and again... and again, just to shut her up.

———————————————————————————————————–

"I suppose I should come back in a few days for another house call." Weiss stood in front of the door, having unlocked it but still remaining inside the apartment. She knew that she needed to get home, but she found herself hesitant to do so. Her first date with Ruby had gone pretty well, if she did say so herself. She didn't even feel all that anxious anymore, which was a testament to how good Ruby was at lowering her guard. Maybe that wasn't a good thing in the long run, but she didn't mind it at the moment.

"I'd like that. Just to make sure my ankle is still healing alright." She pointed at her foot with a self-deprecating laugh. "I might just hurt myself worse on accident by that point." Resting her palm on the door, she leaned in close to Weiss and grinned. "If you want, feel free to become my personal live-in nurse. I'm sure we can find room for all your stuff. My bed is your bed." The implication there was once again clear, but this time Weiss understood it.

"I... will have you know that my place is nicer than yours, and if anything, you should move in with me." She paused for a moment, then started blushing. "I am not asking you to move in with me, if that's what you're thinking. We've only been on one date, in case you've forgotten."

"Hey, I'm not the one who suggested I come live with you. Buuut, if you ever decide to offer again, you gotta come help me pack my things." She sneaked a kiss from Weiss, smiling all the while. "Might have to break my lease too, so I'll need a spot of cash-"

"You're going to be a lot more expensive than I thought." Weiss shook her head and laughed, leaning forward to take that kiss back from Ruby. "I'll think about it, okay? I'll let you know when I'm able to come over for a follow-up appointment." She opened the door and stepped outside, letting Ruby hold it open for her. "Thank you for dinner, Ruby. It was nice... as was the rest of our time together." She tried not to blush at that, but the heat in her cheeks told her she had failed.

"We will definitely have to do this again sometime. Even the pizza part." Ruby smiled fondly at Weiss, waving at her. "Goodbye, Weiss. I'll see ya later!"

"Goodbye Ruby." Weiss waved back, then started to walk away. She felt a sense of loneliness when she heard the door close, feeling much more aware of the lack of footsteps next to her as she walked back to her car. It would be okay, though. She could think back fondly on what had just happened to get through the next couple of days. Knowing Ruby, and knowing her crush-struck self, it wouldn't be long before she went back over for a follow-up checkup. She could still taste Ruby's lips on hers, the tingling sensation acting like a permanent stamp on them.

Standing at her car, she looked back at Ruby's building. She couldn't see Ruby's door specifically from where she was, but that didn't matter. A small smile was on her face as she opened her door and got inside the car. Maybe having a crush on certain patients wasn't always a bad idea.