#these were supposed to be quick gesture studies and here i am i guess

[linovadraws]

Love a series that gives me a guy to root for across 80% of the series as he actively attempts to capture, kill, torture, or maim the protagonists. Rasten deserves to be winning and is from Winter Be My Shield by Jo Spurrier and its sequels.

[ghouljams]

In your tags with the "not moose" breaking the Witch's wards you said you had to nerf her. Now all I can think about how insanely strong Witch is. Since it's a long generation of witches in her family- I guess she's well known in the magic community. Maybe they even invite her to be apart of some witches coven 👀. But she always refuses because she likes doing her own thing. But imagine she has to go to like certain meetings and what not and Price sees her in some formal witchy garb 👀👀👀

I haven't talked much about other witches in this au! I keep meaning to. Yes, Witch has been invited to multiple covens, but she prefers her privacy. Witch's family is well known as old magic, and older covens often invite her because they know she's got that strong ancestral tie to her magic. New covens of young witches often invite her because they think she's a novice witch. She does a lot of "makeshift" magic because she knows it so well, and where old witches would see her as somewhat of a prodigy, new age witches see her as inexperienced and unprepared.

As you might imagine that does not fly with Witch. So she only goes to coven meetings for 1 of 2 reasons: for a sounding board on a problem(old witches), or to be petty(new witches). Here's Witch interacting with a very condescending witch, and Price seeing her in her formal witchy clothes.

You snap a card down on the coffee shop table, the crisp sound of the cardstock against lacquered wood is music to your ears. You study the card, the mice, and jot down a few notes in your nearby journal. A cup of tea is set down in front of you, you're quick to swipe your cards out of the way.

"Are you reading tarot?" The girl, you think she's the owner, asks.

"Uh," You look at your Lenormand deck, "Yeah, I am." It's usually easier to lie to people when you don't want to explain what it is you're doing. You don't always want to have a conversation with a stranger about magic and how they have a friend that's really into "that sort of thing."

The girl sort of... scoffs, and rolls her eyes. Rude. "You know it's not all tarot right? That's an oracle deck," She tells you(it's not), sitting down across from you. You don't remember inviting her company, but it's fine. You close your notebook and gather your cards back into their deck. You're not really a fan of being tested like this.

"You read cards?" You try to smile, and look friendly. You wonder if you could make all her hair fall out. She gestures at the store generally. You look around at the, sigh, occult artwork and gothic vibes. Sort of overplayed if you're being honest. You can spy a few "Wicca-pedia" books on the overstuffed shelves. There's a table of crystals for sale, that explains why you're so itchy.

"I'm a witch," She says returning your smile.

"Neat," You already want to text your sister, or Rún, about this. "What do you practice?" New witches always want to talk about their practice, and it gives you time to shuffle your cards.

"Right hand path mostly, but recently?" She leans forward, whispers conspiratorially, "I've been dealing a lot with the fae." You pause your shuffle, your stomach clenching unpleasantly.

"Really?" You ask, "I thought you were supposed to stay away from them."

"Oh, yeah, you should definitely stay away from them," She nods, "They're dangerous for beginners, but once you know how to deal with them you can get them to do all sorts of stuff for you." You snap a card down on the table, a nervous habit from your mother.

The Mice again.

That's not your card.

You glance around the shop, the people milling about. You don't need to see them to know what they are, you can feel it. The mice in the storehouse, waiting for the lights to go out before they gorge themselves.

"So how long have you been practicing?" The dumbass asks.

"Not long," You mumble, still scanning the shop for anyone you might recognize. It's not technically a lie, in the grand scheme of things you really haven't been a witch long. You know witches far longer lived and far longer practiced. You shuffle your card back into the deck and set it on your notepad.

"I've been at it for about five years now," She powers through you ignoring her, "Do you have a coven or anyone you're learning from?" You glance at her, barely paying attention, as you pull a coin from your pocket and a pin from your skirt.

"No, I'm-"

"You should really be learning from someone," She cuts you off "magic can be dangerous for beginners." You ignore her harder, jabbing the pin into your thumb and smearing the blood on the silver coin. "Uh, sweetie?" You reach to tug a sugar packet free of its container on the table and break it open over the coin, what else, what else? Payment, threat, bait- you pull a lighter from your pocket and melt the plastic pin head to stick it to the coin. Assurance, good, done. "What are you doing?" The girl sounds annoyed, like you're making a mess for no reason.

"Making a fae ward," You tell her, she scoffs. Rude, again.

"You need a little more than some random trash to do a spell," She shakes her head, waves a hand. You take the opportunity to flick the coin off the table with practiced fingers as she tells you how badly you need a mentor and how you can't believe everything you see about magic on the internet. The coin goes flying, and pings neatly against the leg of a chair before starting to pinball around the cafe floor. "-you should really come to a coven meeting, see what real magic looks like."

You can feel your magic tracing its web through the store, you're not sure how much more real you can get with it. Not when you can see the fae customers trying not to jump away from your spell. Still, an insult is an insult. You fold your hands on the table and level your uninvited guest with what you hope is a neutral expression.

"When do you meet?"

-

You're remembering why you hate covens as you get ready. First of all you've been drawing wards on yourself all day, and snuck in a ritual bath, then you had to find your great-grandmother's old chatelaine since your ritual robes don't have any pockets. Most importantly you forgot how fucking cold it is when you're just in the gauzy ritual fabric your aunt made for you.

You check the clock, you're running a little behind so you don't have time to put on anything else. That's just great. Maybe you'll skip it. But then that stupid- Ugh. You take a breath to steady your emotions, no sense in getting worked up when you're so thoroughly doused in magic. You grab a length of Mal's lace from your closet and pin it in place to veil yourself. No way are you letting these little dumbasses stick anything on you.

Another quick check of the clock as you lace your heels, then you're out the back door. You stop yourself at the fence, stare out at the snowy winter landscape. You can already feel the frostbite setting in.

"lace looks good on you," Price whispers, his fingers feel so rough where they brush your back. You hum, and turn to face him. His eyes drop immediately to your chest. You wait for him to decide to meet your gaze again, and find yourself feeling a tad self conscious. You've never been self conscious about going to a ritual sky-clad before. Witches had a long history of dancing naked in the moonlight after all.

"Since when do you cross the fence unannounced?" You ask, trying to bring his attention back where it's meant to be.

"Since when do you leave the house with so much skin showing?" He fires back, stalking around you to check the back like a shark. You lift your veil for him, let him trace his fingers down your spine. They stop short of the draped fabric covering your ass, and you suppress the shiver it draws from you. You let your veil drop back over his hand, obscuring his view.

"I'm going to a ritual."

"Any reason they're getting the works?"

"I'm trying to prove a point." You sigh. "I may have gotten a little-"

"Petty?" Price fills in, you're glad you don't have to say it. His hand smooths over your shoulder, sliding under the lace to cup your neck. "Anything I should be worried about?" You tip your head, feeling the curl of his fingers against your throat, the lingering warmth of his cigar still on his fingertips. You wonder if it'll leave a mark.

"No." It feels too plain an answer, but you doubt there's anything he could do even if he was worried. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, especially when other witches are involved.

Price hums, and you find the sound resonant as he tips your head back to rest against his shoulder. His body presses flush to your back, and you let it. You want nothing more than to sink into him, to let yourself relax into the dangerous hold he has over you, but you know your own ego. If there's one thing you can't stand it's a witch that thinks she's untouchable. You'd hate to see fresh talent eaten before it'd had a chance to blossom.

"You could escort me," You say, the idea striking you suddenly. What better way to show a new witch the dangers that hide behind fae kindness than to bring Price as your plus one? You're sure he's eaten more witches than he's comfortable divulging, but more importantly the wild listens to him. If he can take you through the forest you won't have to be cold so long.

"And what do I get, for this service?" He asks.

"What do you want?"

His hands go to cup your breasts almost as soon as the words leave your mouth, the thin fabric of your ritual robe doing little to hide his callused grip as he squeezes the soft flesh.

"Ten minutes," He breathes.

"You know you can have more than that," You smile.

"Not with you like this," His hands slip down, cup the softness of your stomach, hover over the pleat of fabric covering your legs.

"Alright," You agree, "ten minutes-" you can feel the ripple the goes through him, a deal of temptation being made, "-but only after, and you can't rip anything."

"Of course not," He agrees, "I want to see my witch dressed up again after all."

Inspiration images for the witch's ritual wear

[limerenceheart]

Hii I just wanna say I LOVED that nahida/rukkhadevata reader sm. If u don't mind, could I request with that same reader with either jingyuan or luocha. It can be headcannon or story if you'd like!

hello! I'm happy to heard that since I was just making it up as I went along lol. I'm choosing Jingyuan for this request because Lucoha's ability would clash too much with the reader. I'm posting this as head canons because I am likely to do a jingyuan x reader x loucha drabble soon.

if it came to the crunch, I personally believe Jing Yuan would be more terrifying compare to Blade regarding this situation because of his social/political influence.

This temporarily role wasn't suppose to become permanent.

A quick stay at the Xianzhou Luofu to fulfil the role of the healer lady for this planet.

The blue haired woman arrived back yesterday, her presence signifying your dismissal but someone got in the way.

Jing Yuan, the general of the Xianzhou Alliance halted you from getting on the star skiff that would take you back home.

A few moments later, you found yourself being escorted back to your accommodation because the silver haired man declared there was an emergency that required two healers.

If Jing Yuan was a normal person, you would just ignore him and jump onto the star skiff but disobeying someone like him could lead to a political war considering you were from a different planet.

It still wasn't enough for you to shake off the ominous sense of dread, the way that Jing Yuan grabbed onto your shoulder along with saying your name felt too laid back.

The general shouldn't had felt that comfortable considering you only interacted with him once, coming across the slightly injured man after a practice sparring battle where you healed his busted knuckles.

A simple gesture like that wouldn't be enough to trigger something like this off.

You highly doubted that he remember considering it was weeks ago.

If the general did, then he was surely too interested in you and as the days passed, this hypothesis became more and more apparent.

It started off as subtle and small gestures.

recommendations for eating places, public transports tips, guessing facts about yourself.

it shouldn't been alarming but the whole thing hit far too home for it to be a coincidence.

As a healer, you couldn't tell him to fuck off though but you slowly began more trapped as time went by.

"It's just a custom for the host to show respect for their guest."

These type of statements would always be the answers whenever you tried to ask others about the general, no one took you seriously since a foreigner wouldn't be aware about the traditional customs.

This factor was backfiring so much that the only way others would take you seriously is that Jing Yuan would have to splatter bruises onto you and even then it would be very hard to prove he was the culprit.

You just tried to shut down all the negative feelings because the trip will soon end.

A letter arrived requesting your presence back home and a happy smile only appeared on your as you packed your suitcase till a pair of cloud knights came along to escorted you to the general's private study.

Jing Yuan cannot control everything.

Your bubble of naivety popped when the general announced the news that your planet wanted you to stay here as a medical student underneath Lady Bailu's care.

It was a golden opportunity considering the whole thing was being funded by the Xianzhou Alliance but it felt like your homeland just sold your soul to the devil.

The worst thing is that you didn't have a single say in the matter where you much rather be alone to process this but the general just wouldn't leave you alone.

"Oh (y/n), this is a special gift from Lady Bailu to as a welcoming gesture to joining her party."

The general slide the small black box with a red ribbon tied on top across the desk that you were standing in front of.

You grudgingly took the small box from the desk but the general once again spoke.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

It was a silver bracelet but seeing Jing Yuan's slight smile revealed his true intentions.

The man might as well have given you an engagement ring instead.

[mrbexwrites]

is there any piece of writing you've been itching to share lately but haven't gotten an excuse to?

- @innocentlymacabre

Hey @innocentlymacabre! Great to hear from you! :D

Enjoy this snip from the WIP that pantsed its way into my head, and I wrote whilst possessed by a muse!

(I'm currently trying to work a plot around all of this maddness, so it's slow going!)

The smell of the disinfectant tingled in my sinuses, making my eyes water.  “You okay?” Augustus, his hands tucked into his trench coat pockets, cast a quick glance of concern my way. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Especially, after what happened to-” “I’m fine,” I snapped, blinking away the tears. Auggie shrugged my temper off, as always, and I took a deep breath, forcing myself to unclench my fists. “Have you managed to locate her next of kin?” “Her parents and little sister are out in the waiting room, taking a breather. I figured you’d want to have a look at her without them present. Her father found her, poor bastard.” I peered over the prone woman in the bed, the smell of antiseptic getting stronger. Her face was a mess of purple and black bruises, one eye was swollen shut, the welts beginning to rise from where she had been beaten. Her jaw had been fractured in several places, and she was due to go in for further surgery to wire the bone back in place. The surgeons just needed her to stabilise again before they could do more for her.  “I know you’re not supposed to be back on duty,” Auggie rocked back and forth on his heels. “But I needed confirmation. And I didn't know who else to ask. It’s not like the Family are going to break ranks and admit to something like this.” “You did the right thing.” I continued to study the woman…girl really, she couldn’t have been any older than eighteen years old. Her long dark hair was a mess; knotted and tangled with fragments of twigs and leaves. Her fingernails, ragged and bloodied at the fingertips, were caked with mud. She must have dug her hands into the earth as she was dragged from the tent, desperately trying to grab onto anything, something,  but it had rained the night before, so the ground was soft, and gave her no purchase.  “Any sign of sexual assault?” I lifted up her prone arm, careful of the wires and tubes that were protruding from her body.  Auggie shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. His brown eyes were bloodshot, dark circles weighing them down.  “I guess that’s something, at least,” I said, as I pulled back the sleeve of the hospital gown. The skin of her tricep was inflamed and red where the teeth marks had punctured her flesh. The medical chart had shown that her body was covered in cuts and scratches, not all of them drag marks.  “So, was I right to call you?” Auggie ran his hands through his brown hair, brushing it from his eyes. “Or did I get you out of your sick bed for nothing?”  “I was climbing the walls anyway.” I gingerly placed the girl’s arm back on the hospital bed, fixing her gown to cover the wound. “I told Tiff I was fine, but she wouldn't let me come back into the office.”  “You went up against a basilisk, Piney. No-one has ever walked away from one before.” “And yet here I am.” I gave him a small smile. “Fit as a fiddle.”  And as long as Auggie didn’t look under my shirt, he’d be able to believe that; the puncture wound from the basilisk’s fangs looked like the scars from the old bullet wounds from my time in the British army. Just a fresher scar amongst the many others.  “I know you’re tougher than you look, Piney, but even you’ve got to admit that you shouldn’t be back at work yet.”  “Then you shouldn’t have dropped in on me, and pulled me through a portal to…where are we?” I gestured to the generic hospital room we were standing in. 

[kuroosweakness]

kiss kiss | sakusa kiyoomi <3 

this is the my favorite sakusa mini fic i’ve written yet :)) and my longest work! over 2000 words! 

“i don’t think i’ll ever understand the concept of kissing,” sakusa mumbles to komori as he leans down to tie his shoes. his shoes are already tied, but he needs to do something to hide his face for a couple of seconds. naturally, his curls fall to the sides of his face, just as he expected. 

komori quickly whirls around with a :) and a :0 face combined. “what was that??” he teases and crouches down to see his cousin’s hidden face. 

“i was just sayin’“ sakusa shrugs off. “it’s just people touching lips and sharing saliva. it’s disgusting. why people do it? i’ll never understand.” after dusting off his hands, sakusa gets up from the bench and stands up, having forgotten his tall height and head bumping right into a light. 

sakusa grimaces and rubs his head, trying his best to pretend it didn’t hurt at all. “stupid light,” he grumbles as he walks away. komori watches on, trying his best not to laugh while making a mental note to watch out for the low lights. 

~~~

“komori.” 

“hiya!” komori looks up at his cousin while continuing to stretch out his legs. 

“...have you ever kissed anyone?”

“...like, full on make-out?” komori quietly asks as he makes kissy hands to demonstrate. sakusa immediately frowns and crouches down. 

“stop making those weird gestures,” sakusa quietly scolds. “it’s embarrassing...” 

“what’s there to be embarrassed about?” komori softly chuckles while nervously scratching the back of his head. “why do you ask?” 

sakusa’s eyes divert away. “...just curious to know.” 

“well....” komori taps his chin in thought. “there’s this one friend i’ve kissed before. but it wasn’t anything too serious...”

sakusa looks at the ground below him, wondering if he should sit his whole butt down or keep crouching. he decides to keep asian-squating. “so how’d you initiate the kiss? like what did you do?” 

“...i think we’re supposed to be practicing receives right now,” komori sheepishly says while pointing at their teammates all practicing. the bump sounds and shoe creaks suddenly becomes audible to sakusa. 

“oh.” and with that, sakusa gets up and walks toward the pile of volleyballs. 

~~~

“remember the question i asked you last week?” sakusa breathes through his mask as he and komori jogs down the streets. he’s overly dressed for a jogger, especially in spring. everyone’s surprised he can move so freely in such a heavy jacket. 

“...what..... question?” komori asks, glancing at his cousin before looking back at the road in front of them. 

“you know what question.” 

“...i dont?” komori pants as he slows down his jogging pace. 

“the question....that....made you...do weird hand....gestures” 

“ohhhh the kissing question?” 

sakusa nods and moves to the side to avoid the kids walking toward them. 

“i’ve already told you....i’ve only kissed one person before. say, why’re you curious in my love life?” komori teasingly elbows sakusa as they come to a walking pace. 

sakusa annoyingly elbows him back. “is it so bad i want to know?” 

“it’s just not like you,” komori chuckles. at the sight of a bakery in front of them, his eyes immediately lightens up. “we should go there!!” 

sakusa’s eyes meet where komori’s pointing, then meets komori’s face, wondering if his cousin will share answers if he agrees. “okay. but back to my question about initiating the kiss.” 

“well, you’ll have to find someone you want to kiss first,” komori laughs. “and i don’t think you’ve found that person, judging from the way you always judge couples and bad breath.” 

“don’t be so quick to assume things,” sakusa grumbles under his mask. 

“anywaysss, you kinda have to know that the other person wants to kiss you too, ya’know?” 

“i don’t know,” sakusa dryly says, stating out the obvious. 

“yeah, tell me something i didn’t know,” komori replies and opens the bakery front door. waves of freshly baked bread fill their noses. komori dramatically inhales and exhales. sakusa lowers his mask. a little “ding” rings as the door opens and closes. 

“it’s so warm in here!” komori happily exclaims. “you sure you’re not gonna became toast yourself with that jacket on?” 

sakusa rolls his eyes. 

“back to the kissing topic,” komori starts. “consent is really important! you have to make sure they want to kiss you. and to know, just before kissing, you have to ask.” 

“lower your voice,” blushy-faced sakusa mumbles. “there’s people looking at us weirdly.” 

“not at me weirdly,” komori remarks. “just at you!” 

“i don’t know why i talk to you sometimes.” 

“i’ll pretend i didn’t hear that!” komori happily bounces over to the counter and tells the pretty cashier his order.  “kiyoomi, you want anything?” 

“no, not really.” 

“okay!” komori excitedly accepts his paper bag full of baked goods and eagerly munches into a chocolate croissant. “i was thinking that maybe we can stop and eat for a while” 

komori eating = less judgmental komori. who is he kidding, sakusa knows he himself is the most judgmental person he knows. “okay” 

as sakusa pulls out a seat facing away from the door, a little “ding” rings through the bakery. 

“oh look!” komori munches. “it’s y/n! hi y/n!”

sakusa’s stomach drops. his hands have never felt so clammy and cold before. maybe if he stays completely still, then you won’t notice him. 

“hi y/n!” komori calls again. 

“we’re going home. stop- stop stop stop we’re going home. i need to go home,” sakusa hastily mutters under his breath and gets up so fast, suddenly wishing his mask can cover his whole face. since you’re standing at the doorway, he waits until you walk inside to walk out. 

komori quickly gathers his stuff and says a quick apology to you. “sorry about him! well, we’ll catch ya later!” 

confused, yet unfazed, you give him a little smile and waves back. 

~~~

“so how was it?” 

“...not good,” sakusa’s face and curls fall into his hands. he groans and falls back on the his bed. “anyways, i need to study-” 

“no no no, i need to know!” komori insists. “most people’s first kiss isn’t that great so...you’re not the only one.” 

“how am i even supposed to see them again,” sakusa groans again and squirms around on the bedsheets. “it was so bad. so bad. so so bad. so so sooooo bad-” 

“do you have thoughts about kissing them again??” 

“yes,” he mumbles and swiftly grabs the nearest pillow and hugs it to his chest,  hiding his face in the process. “all the damn time.” 

“then it didn’t go as bad as i thought!” komori exclaims. 

~~~

“so you’re not gonna tell me how it went?” 

“why’re you so nosy???” sakusa scrunches up his nose. 

“you were the one who asked about my first kiss first,” komori defends, pulling back in playful offense. 

“like i said, it wasn’t good.” 

“how was it not good?” 

“the kissing tutorial videos didn’t work.” 

“....you watched kissing tutorials????!!” 

“komori motoya, if you don’t be quiet i swear-” 

“did they at least want to kiss you?” 

“...i don’t even know if we’re...together. this is so embarrassing. i was too impatient. i shouldn’t have. i rushed things. they didn’t even tell me they like me. what if they just went along with it and didn’t actually want-”

“i think you’re overthinking too much...” 

“can we just walk to school in silence?” 

“after you tell me first! i can give advice!” 

“i nearly missed their lips. and i froze up when we actually made contact. i was stiff. i couldn’t move. plus my mask shifted upward and completely interrupted us, which i’m kinda thankful for.”

komori stifles a laugh. “so...what’re you gonna do for your second one?” 

~~~

“i saw them with his stupid, ugly guy who if you put his teeth next to a beaver’s, no one would be able to tell the difference.” 

“....we all know you’re not the nicest person, but isn’t that a little mean..and a bit of an exaggeration?” komori chuckles and shifts his foot inside his volleyball shoes. 

“they have poor, poor taste in men.” 

“well...they did kiss you once...” 

“i don’t know anymore,” sakusa sighs. “i need to just focus on volleyball.” 

~~~

“i hate it here. absolutely hate. it. here.” with a grumble he tosses his clothes on his backpack and pads across the gym to get his water bottle. 

komori side-eyes his cousin. whether or not to ask what he’s talking about, even though he knows exactly what–no, who–he’s talking about. 

“is this volleyball related?” komori asks when sakusa walks back. 

... 

“you’ve never given up anything you’ve set your heart on,” komori kindly reminds him. “so why’re you giving up now?” 

“because all the things i’ve done, i was in completely control of” sakusa swings his backpack over his shoulder. “i can’t control other people’s feelings....nor do i want to.” 

“did something bad happen?” komori dashes to catch with his cousin, and the tea. 

“guess who i saw them with again? beaver guy.” 

“i heard they’re just classmates though,” komori gently reminds sakusa, hoping it’ll somewhat clear his senses. he jogs toward a mini puddle and jumps right into it. sakusa grimaces at the water splashes. 

“it doesn’t matter. i don’t care about them anymore. they can have beaver guy so they want. i’m one of the best volleyball players in the country, and i’m ...somewhat good looking, and i’m tall...their loss.” 

komori searches for more puddles. 

“is it because of my personality?” sakusa quietly says. when he sees his cousins jumping into more puddles, he rolls his eyes. “komori, i’m being serious here” 

“when are you not?” komori calls back. he jogs back to sakusa and says, “what makes you think it’s your personality?” 

“well....let’s not talk about it.” 

“...” komori glares at him. 

“well....they’re all smiles around other people and like :/ around me. and y’know, my cleanliness. not that i would change for anyone, but i’m just sayin’” 

“if they really liked you then, you wouldn’t want you to change. although, you can be nicer sometimes....just a little” komori cheekily says. 

“...you’re right,” sakusa sighs. 

~~~

“update: beaver guy’s no longer in their life. he tried to make a move on them and they didn’t like it so they cut him out of their life.” 

“wait whaaat? it’s been days since you last talked about y/n. what-” 

“can you not say their name so loud???” 

“so beaver guy pulled a move on them?” 

“yes. and they cut him off because he took advantage of their niceness.” 

“...” 

“so technically what happened to beaver guy also happened to me.” 

komori shakes his head. “y/n hasn’t cut you out of their life....they still talk to you sometimes! and even asked if you wanted to walk home, which you-” 

he points an accusing finger at sakusa. “which you said no to >:(” 

“don’t point, it’s rude.” sakusa looks away. 

“what’d you say no???” 

“i didn’t want to appear desperate.” 

~~~

“so...how long are you gonna stare at the ceiling? we’re supposed to be doing measurements right now.” 

“oh sorry,” sakusa slightly bows down and quietly adds, “i walked them home yesterday.” 

komori loudly gasps, which he apologizes for when everyone turns to look at him. “whaaat,” he whispers. “what happened?” 

“i walked them home and then walked myself home, that’s what happened.” 

“you’ve gotta be kidding me. give the details!”

“there’s nothing too important that happened. other than my confession.” 

._. “and you’re saying nothing important happened??” 

“turns out they like...me...too” sakusa stutters. his ears are bright red. “i feel like i’m gonna throw up.” sakusa’s hands presses against his stomach.

“the good kinda throw up?” 

“there’s no such thing as a ‘good throw up’“ sakusa barks back. 

~~~

“y/n looked really happy and cheerful today and so do you...which i thought i’d never see...” 

normally, sakusa would jab his cousin if he heard that, but today, he chooses to ignore it. 

“so what’s going on??” 

“nothing much. just some kissing,” sakusa says. his whole face is glowing. 

“remember when you said kissing was gross?” 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” sakusa brushes off. “and you better not tell y/n i think they’re gross when i clearly don’t >:(” 

~~~ 

“hand-holding huhhhh?” 

“their hands were cold, that’s why.” 

“why am i so invested in your relationship,” komori softly chuckles to himself. “y’all are cute.” 

“it does feel nice to have someone to talk to about these things,” sakusa quietly says. komori pulls back in surprise. 

“well, i’ll always be here for ya! but don’t you dare try rubbing your relationship in my face.” 

“i’d never. i know what it’s like to be single.” 

“???? that’s the most non-sympathetic thing i’ve ever heard! obviously, everyone knows what it feels like to be single” komori rolls his eyes. 

~~~

“people are saying y/n’s dating me for my money.” 

“ignore them >:(” 

“people keep saying that y/n probably get no action and that i don’t even touch them.” 

“like i said, ignore those stupid people” 

“i wish it can be that easy,” sakusa sighs. 

~~~

“i’ve lost track of how many times i’ve kissed them.” 

komori jokingly pulls back in disgust. “no one keeps track, dummy.” 

“i’d say about 43 times” 

~~~

and now sakusa kisses you like he’s a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days 😐 basically, engulfing you. long, passionate kisses that gets your heart pounding every time. 

and that’s it for now :)) tell me what you think! <3

[quaranmine]

The Babysitting Game

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?

Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog

Words: 2862

•·················•·················•

"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.

"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.

"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.

“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.

Vworp!

The egg disappeared into thin air.

Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…

Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.

Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.

"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"

"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.

"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”

"I see!" said Scar.

"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”

"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."

Grian glared. "I am."

"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"

Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.

"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"

"No, no, I'm not!"

"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"

"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."

The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"

"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"

"I could help!" Scar said.

"You were just playing with it!"

"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"

Grian rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.

“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”

“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.

“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.

“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”

“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.

“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”

“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”

“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.

“Show him the egg!” Scar said.

“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.

“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”

Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”

“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”

Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?

•·················•·················•

“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .

“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.

“Like a swaddle!”

“Yes, I see that.”

Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.

“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”

“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.

“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”

“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”

“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.

“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.

•·················•·················•

Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.

Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.

But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?

. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.

Oh God, what did I get myself into?

“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”

“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”

“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”

Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”

The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.

All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.

“I know that but . . .”

“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.

“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.

His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.

“You think it’d be okay?”

“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”

Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.

But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?

An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”

She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”

•·················•·················•

Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.

If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.

“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”

The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.

RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.

RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.

RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.

RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.

Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.

Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.

Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!

“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.

Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”

He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?

I think I already do, he thought.

He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”

[floraltypes]

Old Beginning Pt. 2

pairings - aaron hotchner x reader, jethro gibbs x reader

chapters - one 

summary - the news of a dinner party arrises, but there are some little challenges before the actually night

wc - 3k

an - sorry this took awhile, my summer is over and my writing schedule will be a little wonky now. i’m taking a break from answering requests, so I apologize if I haven’t answered yours, but i eventually will

Penelope and you both looked back at Aaron, taken back by his repeating of the word ‘boyfriend’. You didn’t plan on telling people so soon, considering he was your boss from your old line of work.

“I want to know everything about him, you have to invite him!” Penelope quickly went back into her loud chatting, attracting other faces at her comment. “I also may have mentioned to some of the team that you do have a boyfriend, it just slipped! You know I can’t keep secrets!”

“It’s okay, Pene,” You smiled softly. “I can’t invite him though, you know, since I’m not the one holding the dinner event.”

“You can invite your partner, everyone else can as well, considering it is a catch up,” Dave walked over, a cup of coffee in his own hand as he used the other to scratch at his stubble. “I’ll even invite the woman I’ve been seeing. Feel free to all bring a plus one, I have enough room and everyone deserves a taste of my Italian dishes, will change their lives.”

“Thank you, Rossi, but I simply can’t. It’s so soon, and he’s such a busy man,” You laughed, waving your hand. “It was a kind gesture though.”

“L/n, don’t tell us you’re embarrassed to show your new boyfriend to us?” Derek walked back over, poking your shoulder. “Penelope told all of us down here, just wanted to wait and see when you would tell us.”

“I’m not embarrassed, that’s absurd. He’s truly busy.”

“Invite him, I’ll make sure Will comes and hire a babysitter for Henry, so that we can truly have a adult night,” JJ chuckled. “Everyone is bringing a date, so it would be odd if you didn’t.”

“Actually, I don’t have a partner at the moment due to how invested I am in my studies and the factors of that many young woman my age only focus on the factor of conventional attractiveness rather then the complexity of brains and deep-”

“Don’t worry, Spencer, if you don’t have a date, then I’ll just bring two,” Emily joked. “You don’t need a date, I’m not bringing one either, but Y/n is for sure.”

“I’ll be like the tw-”

“You are dating someone, we aren’t, so you’ll bring that someone. Come on, L/n,” Emily continued on, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. “I’ll walk you out,” She turned back to wink at her coworkers, leading you to the elevator and soon the parking lot.

“Aaron,” Rossi looked towards his friend, a man who had his glare fixated on your exiting figure. “Will you bring Beth, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, I suppose I will,” He answered, retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, pulling up her contact picture, thumb hovering over the call button. “Let’s finish up this work, so we call all get home.” He shoved it back in his pocket, commanding everyone else while moving back up the stairs to his office.

Meanwhile, you were outside of your car, looking at Emily still was right by your side.

“Bring your boyfriend,” She commented, watching as you fished for your keys and unlocked your car. “I want to meet him, I haven’t really talked to you in a long time.”

“We’re both so busy. Him as well.”

“Seriously, Y/n, I’m not gonna ease up on you. I’ve noticed the new tint in your eye, new considering the last time it was severely dulled. It’s amazing to see your real smile again, you closer to your old self despite the past losses. He really has helped you, so I want to meet the man who helped my dear friend so much.”

You contemplated her kind words, getting down to the point that everyone probably was happy to see you again, yourself physically and mentally.

“I’ll call him, see if he can come. Can’t promise anything, his work is very important to him, so if it needs him he’s there.”

Emily smiled widely, leaning over to kiss your cheek before you moved to open the front door and start your car.

“Great, I’m actually bringing someone. Poor Spencer might be the only one.”

“Aaron is as well?”

“Hotch, yeah,” She laughed. “Meet her at some track meet he had, Jack really likes her.”

“That’s good, I’ll see you soon then,” You smiled, shutting the door as Emily watched you back out, waving a small goodbye.

Leaving the facility, while at a stop light, you found your flip phone, finding the contact of Jethro and quickly dialing the number.

“Gibbs,” He answered.

“Hey, are you on a case?”

“No, are you driving?”

“Yes, safely. What are you doing? Building a boat,” You chuckled, imagining him in the basement with the tool and sweaty shirt.

“Yeah. Did you meet up with your old team today?”

“Mhm, all surprised to see me today. It was humorous in a sense. But, Rossi invited me and everyone to a dinner, telling us to bring a partner.”

“Who are you planning on bringing?”

“You.”

“So, we’re being more public with our relationship?”

“Just with the old team, my old team, they don’t have contact with anyone apart of NCIS, or at least not personal only professional.”

“I thought you were going to come and see me, instead of making me drive,” You could almost sense his smile on the other line, a mocking one.

Gibbs would obviously accept the offer, the man truly holding a strong affection for you, a soft spot personally for you, so he would agree to drive the hour or two.

But just because he would, it doesn’t mean he didn’t have to mess around a bit, act like he wouldn’t.

“I know, but then you can see my new apartment. And after this weekend, who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again. Both of our jobs involved sporadic cases that start and end at no specific time, hard to plan around. And, everyone is pressuring me to meet you.”

“I’m already popular, huh?”

“I suppose,” You huffed, rubbing your temple, exhaustion starting to take over you, wanting to get some rest, a calming bath to combat earlier feelings that seemed as if they were creeping up once again.

“I’ll come, don’t worry. Get home safe, call me when you have the address and date.”

“Okay, bye.” You hung up, tossing the phone onto the empty seat as you continued to drive, playing the music from the CD already inserted in your car.

Time leading up to the dinner seemed to fly by, especially considering that it wasn’t much time and you weren’t having to work. You decided to take the free time to get fully settled in, figure out your nerves, make a phone call to your therapist, and even read. Trying to get prepared for all the days that are to come.

Your hair was now being changed from its normal du to a new one, fancier in a sense. Applying a nice coat of makeup, new lip color, trying a new pallet and the old eyelash curler that hasn’t been used in a while, you finished ‘upgrading’ your face. A outfit was simple, considering you didn’t have many fancy ones, so with not much to choose, it was a quick decision.

Sliding that on and fixing the straps to be a bit tighter, messing with the bra to fit correctly, and pulling it down a bit, you grabbed your go to purse, shoving needed materials a into it as you moved to the kitchen.

Within the kitchen, there was a certain door within the wall of the pantry with a password. Quickly typing in the combination the door swung open, choosing between a small but handy knife, you put in the pocket of your bag.

You weren’t too worried about dangers at the dinner, but with years of catching/fighting murders, specific people after you, and even very powerful assassins, you carried certain weapons for safety.

Hearing the sturdy knock of someone’s knuckles on your front door, you rushed to shut the the secret door in the pantry, heading to your front door where someone was waiting.

A quick peak through the hole, your eyes widened in surprise and opened the door, allowing the man to walk in.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, till uh, later tonight,” You mentioned, looking him up and down to see him more dressed up. “Are you not able to attend anymore?”

“No, I’m still going,” Hotch denied, sliding off his shoes and following you to the couch. “I just wanted to chat before than, a chance for just the two of us.”

“Is something wrong?” You walked over to your teapot, filling it with water, and placing it on your stove, heating up the water. “This is very unexpected.”

“Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you, see the apartment, hear what’s new with you.”

“Things,” You shrugged. “Obviously I’ve had a new job experience, similar in ways and also not. Grew closer with a new group of teammates, people, lost a few. Yeah, lost a few,” You repeated, remembering Jenny Shepard, even Kate, both amazing women, who did amazing things.

“That’s always hard, I guess my most recent loss was Haley,” Aaron hummed, soon the kettle making a high pitched noise, you rushing to take it off and grab some tea bags.

“She was also a amazing woman. Wonderful mother, cared so much for that little boy.”

“She really was.”

“Did you come to chat about her, it’s been a while since we had. Last time we really talked was five months after she passed, after the funeral.”

“It really has been that long?” Aaron questioned, taking the tea that you time handed him. “But it’s not the reason I came. I should have made more of a effort to keep in touch, after your transfer, after your loss.”

“You stayed with me for three months, allowing to lose some time with your son so you could change my dirty sheets and pick up all my snotty tissues,” You laughed, sitting down across from him with your own cup. “You had to get back to your family, make up for loss time.”

“You still helped me with my divorce during that time, and I still saw Jack,” He reminded you.

“I could’ve moved in with my father, but you allowed me not to do that.”

“Your father is a good man, but might not be the best to live with,” He laughed, a deep chuckle, something you didn’t see much. “You look nice.”

“Now you just notice,” You chuckle, taking another sip. “Thank you, you look nice as well. I was actually just going to call Jethro and tell him to meet me there, a bit of a drive and he isn’t happy about having to find a new team,” You spoke freely, feeling comfortable with the old friend, one you used to spill everything to years ago, him ranting to you too.

“Jethro? He has his own team? Sounds like a boss of some type.”

“Uh, technically. It’s complicated. I need to get going, to make it to the dinner on time and, finish, um, cleaning up my room before leaving.”

“I could take you there.”

“No thanks, I’ll see you there, bye.” You helped guide him to the door, a curt wave before he exited and shut it, locking it in a rush and moving back to the dining room table to clean the mugs.

You didn’t want to tell him all that, always insecure due to Gibbs being the prior boss of you and how people looked at that. Rumors were always spread about your and Aaron’s relationship, mostly about it being romantic.

Joining the team, you two easily hit it off due to your personalities. Always being filled with determination and stubbornness, refusing to give up till everything was done and right, even with files. Eventually you joined together, talked, spent most days with each other due to cases, and truly gained a very close friendship.

When rumors were getting around, glares were thrown your way, comments, left out by members who weren’t your immediate teams. People thought you were the cause of Haley and Aaron’s divorce, somehow word got around quickly, drama always does.

It was frustrating, already dealing with many different things at home, and even being in a relationship, it put so much unneeded stress and anxiety onto you.

So, getting into a relationship with Gibbs was a very reluctant thing on your part, he expressed his feelings first, but it was hard to accept them, despite the nerves he faced to do it.

Locking up the apartment, having all of your items with you, you made your way out the door and too your car, starting the drive to David’s house.

Upon arriving, you could hear light chatter in the home, lights on, and soothing music playing in the background. It sounded like everyone was having their fun, you couldn’t make out all the shadows of everyone indoors, just waiting outside for Jethro to arrive.

“Y/n?” You turned around at the sound of his voice, keys jingling in his hands as he walked up to you with a sly smile, shoving them in his pockets to place his arms around your waist. “What’s wrong, love?” Be snaked them around, a kiss to your somewhat clothed shoulder.

“Nothing, just a bit nervous to introduce you to everyone,” You smiled back at him, he squeezed a little tighter, catching your lips in a quick kiss. “Looking at your team, yet?”

“Nevermind that,” He grumbled, removing his hands to now interlace your left one with his right. “We should go in, right?”

“Maybe we could head back, to my place, say you are sick or something?” You looked back at him with a pleading look, to which he just chuckled at, starting to move to the front door, pressing the doorbell as you groaned a little.

“You’ll be fine,” He looked back at you as Rossi answered the door, cheerful smile on his lips, glass of scotch in hand as he moved out of the way to let you in.

“Ah! Y/n!” He cheered, leaning over to kiss your cheek and then pulled back. “Glad you made it! This must be…”

“Y/n! Oh where is the man?” Penelope rushed in, coming right by you with her own fruity drink, then leaning to whisper in your ear. “Is this him, oo!”

“Uh, Jethro that’s David,” You pointed to the man who first greeted you, him and Jethro shaking hands. “This is Penelope, the one kind of like Abby,” You smiled, as she gave you a little look, turning back and enveloping him in a little hug. She quickly turned back to you.

“He looks a little intimidating,” She whispered as you just laughed.

“For sure,” You nodded.

“Can I offer you a drink?” David turned to you two, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Something like Garcia for you Y/n, and what about you Jethro?”

“Just call me Gibbs, and yeah that’s fine,” He corrected Rossi, taking your hand as the two of you walked more inside of the magnificent house.

It truly was so well designed, very expensive, and the appetizers adorning the oak wood table looked very delicious. You wanted to go and grab a bite, before you were actually led to the living room where everyone was currently sitting.

“L/n, finally made it,” Derek laughed, beer in his hand as he pointed at you with a little chuckle. “You always know how to be a bit late.”

“Fashionably late, I believe that’s what it’s called,” JJ corrected them with her own wine glass in hand, Will sat right besides her on one of the couch as most of them in that room joined in laughter.

“What can I say?” You laughed, walking over, feeling less nervous with the factor of introducing your boyfriend, taking a seat on another couch in the large room, Jethro automatically sitting right besides you.

“So, introduce us,” Emily motioned over to Jethro, sly smile playing on her lips.

“This is Jethro, but he goes by Gibbs, and, uh, this is the team,” You started to name everyone off while pointing to them, leaving off a few names due to your members introducing their own partners to you.

Emily, Derek, and JJ had all brought partners. Spencer and Penelope decided to ‘go together’ as if they were partners, and Hotch hadn’t arrived yet. Rossi also had his girlfriend helping him cook in the kitchen, making drinks for you and Gibbs now.

“So, you work at NCIS, right?” Spencer questioned. “The Naval Criminal Investigative Service, very interesting considering the type of crimes you investigate. I would love to hear more about some of your cases and how you went about it,” Spencer smiled, a small notebook being pulled out of his pocket with a pen.

“Yeah,” Gibbs just nodded, looking at you a little questioning, which you just chuckled at.

“Why should we talk so much about work, it’s something we all do too much of,” You joked, everyone laughing, as Dave came back out, handing some drinks.

“Fine, fine, what do you do for fun Mr. Gibbs?” Derek asked, putting a arm over the couch and pulling his girl closer to his side, the woman just on her phone.

“I like to build boats, a type of hobbie I’ve been doing for years.”

“Building boats? Where?” Will wondered, intertwining his fingers with JJ.

“My basement, a private workspace.”

“How do you get it out then?” Penelope inquired, now back by Spencer and her face in her hand, leaning closer to show her interest in Gibbs statement.

“I’d be no fun if you knew that,” He shrugged, taking a drink with a small smile as Penelope gasped, Emily mouthing how ‘I like him’. It was sweet how everything was going well.

They all continued to converse with Gibbs, easily accepting him apart of the conversation, it was sweet and you were now on your second drink, practically all nerves gone.

“Sorry we’re late,” A voice mentioned in the hallway, dressed in a fine suit with a beautiful woman standing besides him. He shrugged off the last of his coat as he hung it up, taking her hand and walking into the hallway a little.

“This is such a nice place, Aaron. Oh! Your friend, wow, so grand,” The woman admired, now truly getting in your line of sight.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, eyes interlocking with yours before falling onto Gibbs. “I’m Aaron, call me Hotch.”

“I’m Gibbs,” Your boyfriend stood up, moving over to the other man with his hand stuck out. “Call me that.”

You had a feeling this evening wouldn’t be as smooth as you hoped.

——————

taglist - @wolviesbabes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

(comment to be added, or a tag list for all my gibbs post)

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans + mentions of animal death Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Time to meet the family! What exactly has Cassandra told her mother? Can Bela convince her family to calm the hell down? We'll find out! Spoiler: there's the start of a cute date afterwards Notes: Once more we visit Bela's private study, which I first described in a chapter of Serenade. Added a few more details this time. PS reader is probably low-key a theater nerd with a hint of a goth phase, just saying. Also this chap is a little short, sorry. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands

3: Rumbling Thunder

Heart racing, you step into the dining room, just behind Bela. Both of you are nervous, but find comfort in each other. Still, what you see upon entering only makes you feel worse. At the head of a large table stands none other than Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. Besides her is her middle daughter, the one who confronted you earlier, who sends you a knowing smirk as you walk in. Lady Dimitrescu, on the other hand, is scowling. Her eyes are squinted in a clear display of disapproval. If not for Bela’s hand squeezing your own, it was likely that you would have fainted from fear.

“I see Cassandra has wasted no time in spreading rumors,” Bela said bitterly. You’re amazed by her ability to stand tall in the face of her family’s tension. Yet there was a part of you that wondered if you were worth the struggle, at least for your soulmate. Thankfully, you are not given much time to ponder the thought. No, you’re being pulled towards the closest side of the tabe, guided next to an ornate seat. Neither Bela nor yourself sit yet, however. “Please, mother, do not be hasty to make your judgement. I promise that-”

“Do not presume to tell me of my own business, daughter. The timing of my judgement is my prerogative, not yours,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, staring right at you. A shiver runs down your spine at the eye contact. What did Cassandra say to her? You wonder, struggling to breathe past the lump in your throat. Even Bela becomes visibly nervous at the interaction. “Now… are you certain, without a doubt, that this is your soulmate?” Did she really even have to ask? What were the chances that Bela would save you, one person out of at least a dozen in the cellar, for any other reason? Still, your soulmate straightens up at the attention, and replies as confidently as possible.

“Yes, of course, mother. I would not dare risk your anger for any lesser reason,” Bela assured. Then she gives your hand another soft squeeze, before pulling hers back a little, catching the thread that bound you together with her fingers. Lifting it, she tugs it somewhat absentmindedly. Out of habit you immediately return the action. Unfortunately, those around you would be unable to see the display. For all they knew, the two of you could be faking it, simply attempting to get out of the situation unscathed. Surprisingly though, you see Alcina hesitate. Her left hand twitches as if she was thinking of her own red string. Has she ever met her partner? Did she know the pure joy that her daughter had so recently felt?... Maybe she’d be more sympathetic to your situation if she had.

“We will see if your defiance pans out in time, Bela. For now… Why don’t we hear what your pet has to say about themselves, hmm?” Lady Dimitrescu suggested, giving a somewhat devious smile. Next to you, Bela grimaces, then sends you a pleading look. Alas, you cannot read her mind, and can only guess as to how you’re supposed to respond. Bowing is a sign of respect in virtually all cultures, you think, probably a good place to start.

“It is an immeasurable pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Dimitrescu,” you said, before giving your full name. Then you rise from your bow, once more making eye contact. Out of the corner of your vision you see Cassandra rolling her eyes. “I know that I am a mere human, and hardly the epitome of a prime specimen. But I am determined to prove my worth, for there is no prize on this earth more grand than being allowed to love Lady Bela. Every ounce of my willpower is prepared to devote myself to this task, entirely, so that I may give Lady Bela the courtship and happiness that she is deserving. It is both an obligation and an honor.” Hopefully your soulmate wouldn’t mind you using the same line twice, at least under these circumstances.

In the seconds that follow, several things happen: One, you see Cassandra frown a little, and refuse to look in your direction. Two, Lady Dimitrescu makes a surprised face, but quickly shifts into an expression of satisfaction. Thirdly, Bela’s hand finds your own again, giving it an incredibly soft squeeze. Last but not least… someone you haven’t seen before enters the room. She has red hair, a green pendant around her neck, and eyes that light up with curiosity when she sees you. If you had to guess, you’d assume that she was another one of Bela’s sisters. Here’s hoping she’s a tad bit friendlier, you think.

“Did I miss anything? Ooh, please tell me we’re having this lovely stranger for breakfast?” She asked, grinning maniacally. So much for being friendlier, you think, figuring that she was being literal. Based on the way Bela tenses up in response, you’re probably right. Before she can protest, however, Lady Dimitrescu clears her throat and speaks.

“Ah, Daniela… This stranger-” she says the word with far less venom than you anticipated, but it is venom nonetheless- “is your dear sister’s soulmate. We will not be draining them of blood. Again. Assuming that they behave themselves. Is that clear?” She asked, staring down at the newcomer. There’s a slight pause, tension still lingering in the air, followed by a sigh of relief from Bela. Much to your surprise, neither Cassandra nor Daniela seem particularly upset by this announcement. In fact, the latter simply shrugs and takes her seat at the table. Next thing you know everyone else is sitting as well, including Bela, who gestures for you to follow suit. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch you some more… appropriate food. Cynthia, my dear?” Soon enough a maiden, perhaps a decade or two older than yourself, hurriedly enters the room. With a bow, she addresses Alcina.

“Yes, Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Have Miss Bouregard make an extra plate of whatever it is you sort eat, and bring it here. We have an… unexpected guest,” Alcina explained. At that, Cynthia glances at you, her eyes briefly widening in surprise. Without another word she turns away, giving another bow before heading away to fulfill her task. Once more you’re the only human in the room. Oddly enough, you manage to feel quite at ease, as if surviving one round was enough to guarantee you’d win the overall game. Well, at the very least you now had a chance. Regardless of what was to come, you were glad for that, for this opportunity to be with your soulmate. At the end of the day… little else mattered to you.

———————————

Much to your relief, the rest of breakfast proceeded smoothly. Conversation was sparse, with most of it being hushed whispers from the other side of the table, but you hardly minded. Normally you would find it rude. Now, you were simply pleased that they weren’t being up front with their hostility. More so, it allowed you and Bela to have your own conversation, which mainly pertained to your plans for the day. Several times during your discussion, a glance elsewhere would show you that Alcina was paying attention. Exactly once you even saw her attempting to hide a smile. A sense of pride had swelled in your chest at the sight.

It has remained there, even until now, as you move into Bela’s private study. One quick survey of the room tells you a thousand things about your soulmate. For starters, it’s clear that she’s musically inclined. There’s a harp in one corner, adjacent to a folded music stand, as well as a small bookshelf dedicated entirely to sheet music. A couple medium sized instrument cases are nearby, but you don’t immediately recognize their shape. Further into the room is a rather old looking desk, slightly worn, yet clearly cared for. Possibly passed down the generations? Next to the desk is a massive window with a couple spare chairs. All across the walls were bookshelves and mementos, including several skulls (at least one of them human). Every book you looked over appeared to be well read, with many bookmarks inside, some held together by tape and prayers.

“This… this is sublime, my darling. I could rest here for a month and hardly finish cherishing half the space!” You said, grinning at your soulmate. She’s equally pleased, seeming a tad relieved as well. Perhaps she had worried you’d be thrown off by the skulls? Wanting to reassure her, you approach that particular shelf, examining them closely. However, you do not touch them, not wanting to risk damaging her collection. “Truly marvellous. Dare I ask where you got these specimens?” It’s a joke, but Bela stiffens nonetheless, making you quickly redact your statement. “My apologies, I meant it as a jest. Though you are welcome to tell me more about them if you so desire! I will listen with rapt attention, I promise.”

“Most of them are gifts from Cassandra. During the summers we hunt, her more so than Daniela or myself. I… dislike wasting anything, and there’s only so much to be done with most bones. They have quite a few ornamental uses, however. Useful for study, as well,” Bela mentioned, smiling softly. Then she moves to stand next to you, carefully reaching to grab one of the skulls. “This was from one of our hounds, actually. I raised her from puppy to adult, took her on every hunt, even let her sleep in my quarters on colder nights. When she got sick I…” A pause, mouth open but unmoving, eyes slipping shut. “I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. Even argued with my mother, night after night, begging for another choice. None came, of course, and in the end even I could not deny her the softest embrace of death… Still, you must think me strange, to keep such a thing as a reminder of her.”

“Not at all, my dear. We all remember, and grieve, in our own ways. I’ve often found myself intrigued by skulls, of all sorts,” you admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “All we are, our minds or mayhap our souls, contained in one hard shell. It’s incredible, and terrifying, all at the same time, to hold one in my hands, or even merely examine one. Oh, what stories these bones could tell, if only they could talk… Though I suppose there are entire fields of science devoted to such a thought…” With that said, you look back at Bela just in time to see her staring fondly at the canine skull. Then she places it back on its perch, dusting her hands off afterwards, taking one last moment to appreciate her collection.

“I’m glad you and I agree on this,” she said softly. Once more she’s looking at you, smiling wide. “Now let’s make memories of our own, to hold in our bones forevermore, yes?”

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

[abandoned-ax]

I’m on the team - pt 3

Pt 1 pt 2 pt 4

Summery: the first day of training camp!!

Tw!!! scratching (self harm scratching), panic attack

It’s strange, over the week the team has been super busy, practicing and studying. I helped Tsuki with Hinata and Kageyama trying to make sure they pass there exams, Iv gotten pretty close with the two, there both really fun, and watching them both struggle with classes and Tsuki scolding them is super funny. Sadly the two didn’t pass their exams and are both super upset. I remember when we were getting our test scores back i rushed to their classroom with Yams hoping to see them both super excited only to see Hinata come out pouting, and Kageyama with this super dejected look like he was super disappointed in himself for his grades. They were assured tho that they would be able to get to the training camp just a bit late!

We’re headed to the training camp, me Tsuki and yams are all sitting together, me and Tsuki on one side and yams on the seat across the isle. I’m starting to get nervous, not knowing how other teams are going to react to me being there! They don’t even know who I am, or my situation!

“Tsuki!! What if their angry! Maybe I shouldn’t have come- or-or maybe I shouldn’t have even joined, we don’t know how people are going to react!”

“It’s going to be ok (Y/N) im sure their all nice.” Yams said with this super supportive smile

“Yeah and if anyone bothers you I’ll take care of them.” Tsuki says knocking shoulders with me giving me a small smile.

“Yeah (Y/N) don’t worry! You’ve got all of us, we won’t let anything happen!” Suga says turning around, seemingly having heard me freaking out.

I sigh starting to scratch my hands a nervous habit of mine. After a minute or two Tsuki notices grabbing my hand giving me a disapproving look. He reaches down into the backpack he brought on the bus looking for something, pulling out a stress ball and hands it to me.

The rest of the bus ride me Tsuki and Yams ended up falling asleep, I guess I tired myself out with all of my stressing.

We got to Tokyo faster then I thought, the bus ride felt way to quick! But I guess that happens when you sleep, it’s like time travel.

Getting off the bus we were greeted by some guy with crazy strange rooster hair, I quickly moved to hide behind Tsuki still scared about meeting the other guys. Daichi went over to talk to rooster head while the rest of us got our bags off the bus Tanaka and Noya pushing me and Tsuki and Yams to “walk faster” and “get more excited”.

I overhear The guy Daichi is talking to saying “ your missing a few aren’t you? Wait who’s the new kid” I move closer to Tsuki hoping his tallness will hide me, “why does the new kid look so scared of me.” all I can think about is what if they’re transphobic, what if they don’t want me here, what’s going to happen when they find out. “I’ll tell you about him in a bit.” Daichi responds giving me a concerned look. Tsuki makes a comment about annoying volleyball guys while nudging me to try and get my attention, he and Yams start bickering a little bit and Noya and Tanaka are practically bouncing off the walls and it keeps me distracted.

We were pointed towards the room we’d be staying in putting our bags down and changing. I started getting more nervous, Iv never met these people before and they don’t know my situation. What if I walk on the court and someone yells at me, what if people start asking questions, what if one of them gets super angry and starts yelling at me, what if the team decides they actually side with them! What if-

“(Y/N)” it’s Tsuki and Suga, the two are standing in front of me, Suga is holding my hands and Tsuki has a hand on my back.

“Come on let’s sit down yeah,” the two move me to go sit on a windowsill I look over their shoulders and see all the guys looking at me, I don’t know why I feel so small now, I know them all, I know their not judging me, but I still feel like the piercing stare I’m getting from them is too much. I see Asahi start moving and coming to stand next to Suga on the opposite side from Tsuki.

“Hey (Y/N) I need you to breath for me ok,” he gives me a really concerned look I hadn’t even realized I was hyperventilating, taking one of my hands from Suga and putting it on his chest taking big deep breaths so that I can feel it. “In and out, in and out.” The two words being repeated like a mantra.

Once I’m breathing slightly better Tsuki starts asking questions

“are you lightheaded?”

“Kinda”

“did you eat this morning”

“no”

“why?”

“Didn’t have time.”

“Can someone go grab a granola bar or something?” I see some movement and I think it was Noya who left to go grab something for me to eat. “Are you nervous about training camp?”

“Yes” I say quietly hoping that only he can hear

“Is it because you haven’t played a real game yet.”

I shake my head, I haven’t even thought about that fact that I’m going to be playing a real game for the first time, the only people Iv played against is the team.

“Is it because your afraid people are going to be mean about your gender?”

“I- yes,”

I see everyone look around, I guess they hadn’t thought this was really that big of a deal, but for me, this isn’t something that happens normally, while they all had the door to this space opened to them, I had to hike up a mountain to just get to the door, and I’m just scared that once I get into the space that they all see as a right, is a privilege that most people like me don’t have, it isn’t a space I’m normally supposed to be in, and once you realize my situation everyone knows it.

Suga pulls on my hands making me face him. “ it’s gunna be ok (Y/N), if anyone says anything we’ll deal with it. You’ve got the team! We’re going to make sure your ok.” Suga says with a reassuring smile.

Noya quickly gets back in the room with a granola bar and a water bottle sliding in front of me to hand them both to me. “Thanks Noya” it’s a couple more minutes that I sit there catching my breath before I give everyone a nod letting them know I’m ok, everyone starts to disperse to Finnish getting ready.

Tsuki went over to his bag giving me an extra shirt he had, just like when I first stopped wearing my binder while playing. It’s a reassuring gesture. I get changed and everyone starts leaving before Tsuki grabs my hand, holding me back for a second.

“Your gunna be ok. I promise. And if you get scared or anything just let me or Suga or Daichi know and we’ll get you off the court ok?”

“Thanks Tsuki.”

Tsuki speeds up a little bit to get to yams and Daichi slows down a bit to get back to me.

“Hey I wanted to let you know before we get in there, there might be a cupule people who know your situation, mainly Kuroo the captain of Nekoma, he’s the guy from when we first show up. And I think Kenma their setter might. Him and Kuroo are close and he’s friends with hinata, and we’ll you know hinata. Other then that I’m not sure, they might have told some others but still I can’t tell you what the rest know.”

“Thanks Daichi, um did Kuroo seem chill about it when you told him?”

“Yeah, yeah definitely, I mean he was for sure surprised but, he ended up just saying ‘oh! That’s cool’ so I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.”

“Thanks Daichi.”

“Of course kid.”

We finally all get into the gym moving to get warmed up before our first game!

—————————————————————

Let’s just say we haven’t been winning much, Coach put me into Hinatas spot so Iv been playing a lot. Honestly Iv been so stressed about my gender that I didn’t have time to stress about the fact that Iv never been in a game before. Iv gotten a few good spikes in and have been blocking a bit, but I’m by no means super good! We’ve been doing lots of flying laps.

After one of our practice games with nekoma everyone was taking a break to drink some water when some guy with bleached long hair came over to me.

“Hey.” He said kind of quietly, he seemed pretty awkward like he doesn’t do this often.

“Hey?”

“Um I just wanna let you know- i mean I’m friends with hinata and he’s told me about your situation.”

“Ah I see”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m chill with it, all of us on Nekoma are, so you’ve got nothing to worry about with us.”

“Thanks. It’s uh really reassuring to hear that. I’m (Y/N)”

“Kenma.”

“It’s nice to meet you Kenma”

“So uh how long have you been playing, it’s just we did a practice game with you guys not to long again and you weren’t there.”

“Oh yeah umm I just started playing only a few weeks ago.”

“Wow really. Your pretty good for someone who’s never played before.”

“Ha thanks, but I really have my team to thank, they got me playing and have been pretty good teachers”

“I hope one of those teachers hasn’t been Hinata I’m pretty sure most of what he says to explain volleyball is sound-effects.”

“I know right! It’s like he doesn’t know words sometimes.”

“Yeah it’s really strange but you get used to it.”

“Haha I guess eventually I’ll learn to speak his strange language!”

“Yeah!” Kind of out of nowhere the guy from this morning Kuroo I think his name was wrapped an arm around Kenmas shoulders.

“Well well what do we have here! Is Kenma actually talking to someone!”

“Shut up Kuroo”

“Hi I’m Kuroo, (Y/N) right?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s me.”

“Well it’s nice to meet the newest player.” He sends me a wink, “come on Kenma our games about to start, it was nice to meet you (Y/N)!” The two walk off headed back to the court.

It’s a little bit later in the day that Hinata and Kageyama show up! Hinata taking my spot in the game, and honestly I’m grateful, this day has been exhausting.

An: hey guys! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all liked this part!! I’m so excited to keel writing!! I take requests so if you have any please just message me!!!

[nutellaneedsanap]

Almost a Dream

Jason awoke with a start, the senses he honed as a street kid warning him that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noticeable shift, something a more normal person wouldn’t notice, but to a person with his training it was glaringly obvious. The slight shift of the blankets, the dip of the bed…a quick peek confirmed what he already knew. There was someone else in his bed. The blue-eyed boy kept his eyes lightly shut, feeling the warm body next to him shift ever-so-slightly. Discreetly, he opened his eyes and peered at the figure that appeared next to him, gauging her threat level. 

She was a smaller girl with blueish-black hair, likely of asian-descent, and a wiry-muscular frame not unlike Dick’s. Deciding that she was asleep, (therefore not much of an immediate threat), Jason went to move, planning on getting Bruce. He had only just begun to sit up when she pounced.

She gave no warning before lunging forward, giving Jason’s throat a quick jab that left him gasping for air. Taking advantage of the moment it took for him to catch his breath, the girl grasped his hair at the root and brought his head down on her knee. A telltale crack sounded throughout the room and internally, Jason groaned. 

“Ahhh, Alfie’s not gonna be too happy about that.” His voice had a slight lisp, another sign pointing towards a broken nose. His assailant scrambled to get off the bed and backed towards the balcony, her hands quickly touching her ear lobes. She did not seem to like what she found, her face quickly settling into a scowl.

“I don't know who you are or what you want from me,” she began, settling into a (rather good) fighting stance. “And I don't care. I will be leaving and you will not stop me.”

Jason looked at her, grasping his nose that had begun to leak a small trail of blood.

“What the hell?” He wasn’t screaming but he sure wasn’t whispering. 

“I’m not exactly sure how you do things in France, but I'm pretty sure most parents teach their children to not break into someone’s house, sleep next to them like a weirdo, and then break their nose!” 

There was a chance that the bluenette couldn’t understand him(there was no shortage of immigrants in Gotham), but Jason hadn’t learned more than basic French yet. Technically, learning the more common languages was a part of his training as Robin, but he had kind of forgone those specific lessons. And why would he put in all that time and effort learning French when he could be reading more books from the Manor’s library?

She blinked at him. “What do you mean, I broke in? I apologize but sir, you are not pretty enough to pretend to be so stupid.”

The black-haired boy blinked right back. He may not know French but he does know an insult when he hears one, so he fires one back. “Well fuck you too.” 

The girl scrutinized him, her expression screaming “Is that the best you can do?”

“Oh? You want to go? Fine. My middle finger salutes you and your assholeishness. Calling you an idiot would be an insult to those who truly worked hard for the title.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

“There is a special place in hell for you, ya know that?”

The girl cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware there is a special place in hell for me, it's called a throne. And those are bold words for someone who literally kidnapped me, but go off I guess.” 

It didn’t take much more for the pair to dissolve into a screaming match, the bluenette yelling in French and what he thought was Cantoneese and Jason using more than a few of the Spanish phrases he had picked up from his dad and other folks on the street. Jason was in the middle of one of his more strongly worded combinations when the door slammed open, Bruce and Alfred standing in the doorway.

The both of them took a moment to examine the situation, Alfred accessing Jason for injuries while Bruce switched on the Batglare™. “Who are you, and how did you get here?” 

The poor girl looked exasperated. 

“I don’t know how I got here!! Last thing I remember was collapsing into bed and the next thing I know I wake up to the face of this,” she pointed at Jason, “creep who doesn’t even have the decency to talk to me! I keep on asking him how I got here and why he took me but he just won’t answer. He’s pretending that he doesn’t know French, but who in Paris doesn’t know French?!? I  mean, sure, there are immigrants, but who the hell would immigrate to Paris nowadays? What with Hawkmoth akkumatizing people day and night.” 

She paused before flopping down on the floor, dejected. “Today was supposed to be perfect, the day I finally got my soul mark and got one step closer to finding my soulmate, but no, I just had to get kidnapped the night before my 16th birthday!” She put her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake slightly. 

Jason looked from the girl back to Alfred and Bruce. “Is she?” he mouthed, thoroughly bewildered. Bruce exactly as Jason felt, while Alfred’s face was twisted into something that resembled pity and understanding. 

“Master Bruce, may I have a moment with you?” Bruce sighed and turned to leave. Not wanting to be left alone with the now sobbing girl, Jason followed.

Alfred handed Jason a handkerchief for his nose before he began. “Masters, this young girl has been through quite the ordeal and I will not have either of you using your vigilante intimidation tactics on her, understood?” 

He waited until he got a nod from the two of them before continuing. “Good. You know, Master Jason, I read a very interesting book recently about Kate Goodwill and her studies on soulmates. And before you ask, Master Bruce, I do have somewhere I am going with this. The book was absolutely fascinating, the theories, the experiments, simply everything. However, the one thing that stood out to me the most was Dr. Goodwill’s research on the different types of soul bonds, specifically the one that she and her wife shared. Her research was kick-started because no one had heard of their type of soulbond before and it had caused quite the panic for both the young girls and their families.” He paused, making eye contact with Jason. “Their soulbond caused the younger of the pair to teleport into their soulmate’s bed in the middle of the night on their sixteenth birthday.”

•••

Marinette was not having a good day. First, Mlle. Bustier assigned her to work with Lila, Lila of all people, for the end of the semester project in summer school (which she was attending due to her absences as Ladybug and Lila was attending because she was constantly absent for “charity work”), then in the middle of the night, Hawkmoth sends out 1 and ½ akumas (long story), and now she wakes up to find that she was kidnapped by a psycho in her sleep? What the actual FUCK?!?! Where was Tikki’s luck when she needed it?

And ok, sure, she wasn’t necessarily proud of how she handled the situation, but she was under a lot of stress, ok! She woke up in a random kid’s bed with no earrings and no Tikki. And yeah, she probably could have done without antagonizing the boy, but it was so easy and fun to get him riled up! How was she to know that the yelling would bring scarier other people? Ok yeah scratch that she probably should have figured that out herself (I mean the boy obviously had money so it makes sense that he’d have more people around his house) but in her defense she was like, really tired.

She glanced at the closed door that the men had just exited, wiping a few stray tears from her face. 

“If only I had Kaliki,” she mused. 

But no matter. She already had the beginnings of an escape plan forming in her head. I’ll just need a handkerchief, a piece of twine, and maybe a hairpin to pick the lock on the balcony door, but then how would I get out of the property? A house with a room like this must have crazy security measures… She went on like this for a couple of minutes, formulating her plan before she checked out the window. Three stories up...could normal civilian Marinette survive that jump? I would transform, I still have my earrings, but without Tikki I can’t... She went on like this, thinking of different plans and contingencies. The bluenette was so lost in her head that she almost didn’t notice when the three re-entered the room.

“Miss,” the older man who looked like a butler began. “I deeply apologize for the earlier behaviour of Master Jason.” He gestured to the now apprehensive boy who gave her a little wave. “He has not yet learned French and had no way to comprehend the situation. I was able to hear both sides of the story, and I believe that there has been a large misunderstanding. You were under the impression that Master Jason kidnapped you, correct?” Marinette nodded, more than a little confused. “Master Jason was under the impression that you had snuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“So what are you suggesting, someone put me here without either of us knowing?” I swear to all things holy if this man accuses me of lying…

“I am getting there, Miss. I assume you are familiar with the soulmate story of Dr. Kate Goodwill?” Marinette nodded yet again. 

The man took a deep breath. “I believe this is a similar situation, and that the two of you are soulmates..”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean I...we...what? N-no way.” 

She racked her hands through her hair. She... she wouldn’t overlook something like that, right? You were supposed to feel a sense of belonging the first time you met your soulmate and she...had kind of felt that. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. From a logical standpoint, it would explain so much! Why he spoke English, why Tikki wasn’t with her, why her earrings weren’t on… Her face turned crimson as she realized the full implications of the statement. She turned to face the newly named Jason.

“Oh Kwami I’m so sorry Jason! I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just so surprised and kind of scared and oh Kwami, the first time I met my soulmate I broke his nose and called him every name that I knew,” she smacked herself on the head. “Only you Mari. Oh gosh I totally understand if you never want to talk to me again I’m probably the worst soulmate in existence I just-” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two adults leaving the room.

“You can speak English?” Jason exclaimed, looking equal parts amused and exasperated. “You spent this whole time yelling at me in French and Cantoneese and you can speak English? So much of this could have been avoided if you had just talked to me!”

Marinette gave a nervous chuckle. “Uhhhhh, surprise?” 

At his incredulous look, she rushed to elaborate. “Well I thought we were still in Paris and no one has immigrated to Paris in literally two years so I thought that you knew French and the choice to speak English was conscious? Like maybe it was some weird interrogation tactic or something? I don’t know, I was just confused.”

“You thought I kidnapped you?” He whistled through his teeth. “Yeah, I can see why you reacted the way you did. No worries though, my nose isn’t too horribly fractured and I probably would have done the same thing.” They both chuckled. 

He has a nice smile, Mari noted. (She wouldn’t know until much later, but Jason thought the same about her laugh.)

“I think we should start over.” Marinette held out her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I live in Paris, France, today is my birthday, and I think I’m your soulmate.”

Jason smirked, holding out his hand. “Hello Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think you are my soulmate too,”

They shook, and that was that.

The End.

Bonus:

Jason: You know, Ethiopia can wait for one more day.

Marinette: It can wait FOREVER.

Bonus 2:

Alfred: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Jason: Would you like to stay forever?

[kayr0ss]

An Opinion

[LWA, Diakko, Fluff, Established Relationship, Akko Gets Glasses, Oh my God Help Diana] AO3 Link

Summary: Wherein Akko gets glasses and the matter of Diana's opinion on them is of utmost importance.

---

This was way past the point of deniability.

She didn’t think her vision was that bad, but after a quick trip to the optometrist and the shocking reveal of how sharp the world actually looked to everyone else it became crystal clear to Akko. Pun intended.

The glasses were here to stay whether she liked it or not.

Her typical walk through the eastern wing of the dormitories came with newfound wonder and clarity. It was like turning up the graphics setting of her favorite game to ‘Ultra’—you didn’t think about how much better it could get until you saw it! She could read the signages down the hall with little to no effort (she used to think they were just far away), and wondered if the view of the courtyard was always this good.

She was advised to break them in slowly, but after the initial dizziness of the first half-hour her eyes seem to have adjusted to them quite well. She huffed, wrinkling her nose. There was an odd feeling of weight on the bridge that was bothering her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

Akko blinked, pulled out of her musings by a very confused Amanda.

“Something looks different.”

“You don’t say.” Akko laughed.

Amanda narrowed her eyes, gesturing all over her. “No! For real! Something is off. Why do you look smart?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Akko pouted.

“Shit, are those glasses?” Amanda leaned forward, smirking. “New look to woo a Cavendish heart?”

Akko giggled. “Don’t get me started on her. I’m probably going to get nagged because she was right about me reading in dim lighting this whole time.”

“Nah, I bet ten pounds she’ll say it’s cute.”

Akko shook her head with crossed arms. “Nope! I know better than to get into a bet with you.”

Amanda laughed. “Look at that, character development!”

“I now have all the wisdom that wire-framed lenses have to bring.” Akko said pointedly, throwing an exaggerated I’ve-got-my-eyes-on-you gesture towards her friend.

“I take that back though,” Amanda scratched at her chin, thinking. “She wouldn’t say ‘cute’, that’s too normal of a word. Bet she’d say some shit like ‘beauteous’ or something.”

“Wait—that’s a word?”

“Apparently!”

Akko shook her head. “She’d probably use something milder like ‘graceful.’”

“Radiant.”

“Comely?”

Amanda slyly raised an eyebrow. “Ravishing.”

Akko chortled, gently punching Amanda by the shoulder. “That’s it. Stop being mean to my girlfriend when she isn’t even here to defend herself.”

But their banter had left her with a light sense of curiosity. She strode towards the Blue Team dormitory with purpose, eager to collect Diana's most esteemed opinion.

---

“So I think it went better than expected!” Akko barged into Diana’s room with a skip in her step. “Well, in the sense that even though my eyesight did turn out to be bad it isn’t that bad. So no need for lenses like Professor Chariot’s—by Jennifer those lenses are thick. Like. Thick with two c’s kind of thick.”

Akko kicked off her shoes, tiptoeing on the carpet around Diana’s desk. She wrinkled her nose again—this is probably going to be a habit, huh—and continued with her rambling. “Anyway, I saw Amanda and she said it was weird that I looked smart which was totally uncalled for but also, like, is ‘beauteous’ really a word? And then we wondered—” Akko set down her things, taking off her travel coat and folding it neatly to settle on the foot of Diana’s bed. “—well,” she stuttered, wondering why it was that Diana seemed unable to even bother speaking up to say hello.

With a bit of flair and showmanship, she finally turned to face Diana.

“What do you think?”

At first she thought she was too busy studying to listen, but it seems Diana had been quietly looking at her the whole time.

“Diana?” Akko inquired softly, feeling self-conscious under the curious weight of her partner’s gaze.

Diana opened her mouth. Closed it. Blinked as if to shake herself out of a stupor, and then opened her mouth as though trying to say something again. All of this was accompanied by an endearing dusting of pink along her cheeks. Akko could see that she had dropped her attention in the middle of taking notes, the perfect script unraveling into a tapered line that ran towards the edge of the parchment.

“Uhm. Do you…” Akko rubbed at the back of her neck, smiling sheepishly. “…like it?”

Diana leaned back against her chair, turning to face Akko while reaching for the cuff of the younger witch’s sleeve. “A—” Diana began, blue eyes looking up to meet Akko’s but failing to complete her attempt at a sentence.

Akko furrowed her eyebrows. "You okay?"

The gentle grip on her sleeve was gone, replaced by a firmer one that pulled Akko in by the collar.

Oh!

“Dia?”

At eye-level with one another, Diana moved her hand up to brush against Akko cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling her in gently, firmly, for a kiss.

Akko smiled against the woman’s lips, shoulders shaking in soft laughter because her glasses were awkward and inconvenient and very much in the way. But she kissed her back anyway, giggling and breathing in the moments in-between.

She pulled away. “So my guess is you like it.”

Diana's answer was to pull her back in.

She’d have to tell Amanda that neither of them were right—apparently Diana had nothing to say.

-

fin

-

A/N: Hello, I live. I'm always thinking of glasses Diana but now I am thinking of glasses Akko and if I could pull of writing a one shot where Diana doesn't even say a (full) word hehe

[someonedm]

It was an inconvenience, really. Jane didn't want to be here, and neither did I. She had all her friends to be with, chatting and quacking about things I had nothing to do with. And I had... my alone time, I guess. Sweet, quiet, alone time.

But things didn't go out as planned. Jane got suspended, for being a bitch, and when school said she couldn't go to the field trip, she called her rich parents who got it all sorted out. But room arrangements were already made, which landed her right here, with me.

I suppose we both made the best out of it. She spent her time with her girls, while I had a blast going through social media. But, when bedtime finally arrived, we couldn't avoid it. We have to stay together in the same room.

She steps out of the shower, her wet hair dripping drops of water onto the floor. She turns to me with annoyance. "What are you looking at?"

I hadn't noticed I was staring at her until her remark, and it caught me off by surprise. "Oh. I just-yeah." I got in the shower. "Good thing you are finally washing, don't know if I could sleep with you stinking out the room." She said it so incidentally, not caring about if it'd hurt me or not. The kind of effort someone puts in a "congrats" message in a group chat.

Coming out of the shower, I find her still standing there, looking at her own reflection in the mirror. Seeing me, she swiftly turned to her toothbrush, trying to hide the self-absorbance this entails.

Her eyes, reflecting from the mirror, look tired. Her skin is dotted with little imperfections. Her mouth, which I was so used to see lie on a self-assured smirk, was curved down. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and we could both see her.

Perhaps she was thinking of another insult, perhaps she didn't mind my blank stare, but I noticed her relentlessness as she offered me a moisturizing cream. "You want some?"

"no, thanks."

She went back to her bed silently. She was no longer wearing her popular girl persona. We were both tired and just wanted to sleep.

After finishing my prep up, I too went back to my bed. I stretched my arm into my bag, fishing out a flask. I waved the flask in front of jane. "You want some?"

"Where'd you got this?" She laughed, reaching out her hand to take the flask.

"Stole it from my mom's cabin."

She gave it to me back. "Won't she be pissed at you?"

I gulped some of the scotch. "No way. She must've noticed it was gone as soon as I left. If she cared for me I would have heard from her way too long ago."

"Aaah." She yelped. "Sorry for asking".

"First time?" I asked with a full grin, unable to hide my satisfaction with the situation.

"You think?"

"You goody two shoes got yourself detained recently, so I don't know what to think."

"Hell nah. The first time was eighth grade. My ex's brother organized a party and snuck in booze. They said they would have got me with them, cause I looked a lot older than I was. I think that that sentence was why I took that first glass." She sighed, and I knew she has something weighing on her, but she stopped herself from speaking. "What about you?"

"My mom thinks that my first time was when she gave me, after he- after he- uhhh... yeah. It was a bad night for her, and she couldn't give any shit. I had to act like it was all new to me, as if I hadn't had one of those after other nights. I am not a great actress, but I did have a drunk and tired audience." I looked up to her, and noticed she too had a hard time looking in my eyes. "Forget about me. What about your party? Your ex??" I raised my eyebrows repeatedly, and it got a chuckle out of her.

"I'd rather not talk about him." She smiled, though it was a sad smile. "But since we are discussing firsts... well, me and Tyler. Homecoming party."

"Tyler, huh? never thought he was your type!"

"What do you think my type is?" she asked, intrigued by my statement.

"I thought you liked your boys strong and sassy. The kind of jock smart enough so you won't have to actually tutor him during your 'study sessions'. Not some theater student exchange kid!"

I laughed, but she didn't seem to like it. "Do you really think of me like that? That I'm that basic?"

I looked her in the eyes. Even after knowing how she looked without her makeup, she seemed so tired. The kind of tired that stems from frustration, rather than lack of sleep. Jane cared a lot about how people think of her, even if those people were outcasts like me. "If you want me to be sincere" she nodded. "Yes."

Her soft smile faded. "I guess I should go to sleep, then."

"Wait, I am sorry. Why don't you tell me about Tyler?"

"Okay, but, I can't promise to be awake to finish."

"Consider me an elephant. I am all ears." I gestured with my hands curved, extending my ears.

"He is smart, and funny, and kind - I thought he was kind. He helped me learn for history, and we actually did study, unlike what you were guessing. He said how he missed his friends at home, and I thought it was really sweet. I felt safe with him, that he cared for me. I think he did - I wasn't just a popular girl to achieve. He made it clear, romantic gesture after romantic gesture, and when homecoming came I offered him myself. And it was all great going forward, up until Christmas break. He finally had a chance to go back home and insisted I'd stay home with my family. He ghosted me all that time, including a week after he got back. Then he confronted me. Apparently, he was having a long-distance relationship with whom I thought was his ex, and they had sex when he came back for his visit. Said he loved me but that she won't let him be with me.

So I got a little basic, and invited one of the jocks to have rebound sex in his car. While his girlfriend was over."

I chuckled. "I am sorry. What you went through is terrible. But god damn is that a good way to get back at someone, you magnificent bastard."

"I am glad I am amusing you." I couldn't decipher the look on her face, resting for a split second, before turning back to gossip. "So, who's your first?"

"I had a first- yeah uh I definitely had one."

A malicious smile sneaked onto her face. "No, you didn't."

I held the palm of my hand at the back of my head and looked down in shame. "No, I didn't."

A familiar sense of vanity came from her. "Doesn't matter. Who'd you kissed?"

I wanted to lie, but instead, I hid my face in the palms of my hands, hiding from her glare. "I uh - I hadn't kissed anyone yet."

"Well, that's such a shame! I bet many boys like you. You just don't notice them, that's all."

This comment, coming from her, caught me off by surprise. I had anticipated some sassy, if not outright a bit mean remark. "Really? You think that? Cause you kinda sound like my mom."

I guess I shook her a bit too, cause the sass was quick to come. "I'm sure of it. You know how boys are - they lust after anyone they think they have a chance with."

"Ahh, there it is. Should I take it as a compliment?" I smiled softly. "Cause I'm not hurt."

Her eyes widened for a moment. "No I- I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it like that - Ugh, nevermind." She rubbed her eyes. It was late. "If you want me to, I can help you get any boy you'd like. Who you've got your eyes on?"

I was starting to feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't tell what about this innocent question was so jarring. "I don't know. I never thought about it."

She leaned forward on her bed. "Tell me your type, then, since we already talked about mine."

"You must guess first."

She looked me deep in the eyes, assesing how I looked. She then turned her head to the flask. I imagine she was going through what I've told her, trying to make a sense of me.

"You like shy artsy boys that keep to themselves. You get tired of the enthusiazm of other people, even if it's about things you like, so it's nice having someone who's more quiet, like you. But you also want him to be more emotional than you, cause if it was left up to you, you'd be scared of the relationship falling apart. Did I get it right?"

Her description felt off. It wasn't insulting or arrogant, and I couldn't tell what exactly was incorrect, but it felt wrong.

"I... I don't know." I knew what I wanted to say, and it made me anxious. I could feel the saliva getting stuck in my throat. "I like someone who's sarcastic and witty, and doesn't open up, so when they finally talk earnestly it feels like winning a prize. Someone who cares so much about how other people see them, that they take off their hand crafted mask just for you, and seeing them that way, they are only ever more beautiful."

My gaze drifted away from her as I spoke, and I couldn't bare to see how she had reacted.

"I am tired." Her voice finally broke the silence.

"Me too. I don't want to stop talking to you."

"Me too."

The vision of that flask felt burned in my memory as I thought about reaching out and taking another sip. I couldn't sleep, and perhaps more alcohol in my blood stream meant stopping to think. I couldn't stopped thinking, and it paralized me. Images ran in my mind, thoughts and ideas being intrusive, and I had no help in silencing them.

The steady rhythm of her breath calmed me down, but as I focused on it the intrusive thoughts only grew.

"Hey." Her voice was quite, almost a whisper.

"Can't sleep?" I answered, with the same crooked tone.

"No."

Her breath is still slow and calm, but I can feel my own heart pounding faster. I wonder if she can hear it beat from beyond my skin.

"When you talked about the type of person you like.

You weren't talking about a boy, right?"

I turned my head to face the wall, watching the creaks, trying to make them absorb my thoughts and visions. I knew she would hate me for it, and the thought of being honest made breathing almost impossible.

"No."

I listened the rumble of her bed sheets, and her light steps on the floor, and my squeaking bed as she set on its other edge. Tears filled my eyes and I swallowed the saliva down my throat.

"Was it about me?"

I rose up on my end of the bed, looking at her being the most difficult thing I have ever done. I couldn't see her clearly through my tears, but I knew she was absolutely beautiful.

"Yes."

She reached out her soft hands around the back of my head, leaning closer and kissing me.

I was surprised and uncomfortable but I loved every moment her tender lips touched mine.

I parted away, breathing heavily as I only now felt relieved. I sounded like a wailing baby, and I must have looked like one when I wiped off my tears that continued to come.

She sat there, holding herself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable... I didn't..."

I braced her as hard as I could. We kissed again, now calm between each other's arms, trading our air between our body and stopping only when we had to. We cherished each other's beauty, finding comfort in each other's eyes.

She laid her head on my lap, and I caressed her hair. "I don't want to leave you."

"Me neither." I leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I want to hold you until dawn. But the bed is too small."

She woke up and went to bed, and it dawned on me how tired I am. As we both lay in our separate cushions, she lends her hand towards mine, and I hold hers.

[niennavalier]

AC: Rogue - Second Chances

Summary: He's not an Assassin anymore - Shay has no doubts about that. He's less sure where that leaves him in the world, or in the context of this centuries-long war between Assassins and Templars. But when he's presented with a second chance - from a Templar, no less - he has to question all that he's done in the past. And all that he'll do in the future.

Character study set during AC: Rogue Sequence 3-1 "The Color of Right".

(Also posted on AO3)

*****

Shay isn’t sure what he’d been expecting. There’s little he remembers of the moment after being shot, aside from perhaps accepting his fate, knowing that, at the very least, he’d stopped the Assassins from leveling more cities. But he hadn’t expected to wake up at all, much less in a comfortable home and cared for by a kindly couple.

He’d not thought that he could be surprised by much else, but then Mrs. Finnegan - Cassidy - had handed him some clothing, and now, dressing himself, he can’t help but think.

They were our son's . Those words - they keep circling through his head as he readjusts the coat, finishes tightening his belt. Because he can't keep the thought from his mind.

The Finnegans' son - he'd been a Templar.

He'd not wanted to believe it at first, seeing the crosses at his shoulders, telling himself it was something else, something he'd seen elsewhere. It wasn't the Templar cross, and the couple who'd taken him in and cared for him as their own - they weren't Templars. They weren’t the same people he’d spent years fighting.

But pulling the strap for his rifle over his shoulder, the other cross settling on top of his heart, it’s not something he can deny. Somehow, he’s certain of it; whether the Finnegans are Templars themselves, their son had been.

And now he’s wearing the lad’s clothes. It’s something that makes him all the more aware of the hidden blades at his wrists - nothing feels quite right about any of this. Not that he can do much about it.

Sighing and shaking the thoughts from his head for now, he takes the time to tie his hair away from his face and happens to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Looking as he does, he has no doubt his younger self would've thought him a Templar himself, some fanatic obsessed with order. With his weapons returned, he looks every bit a man ready to fight for all that he’d once fought against . Though it's not like he has much choice; he doubts his old clothes had survived the ordeal.

He's not mourning their loss, though. It's a sudden realization, and one he wasn’t expecting to have, but he hadn't been eager to don the hood again. And he still isn't, perhaps would never be. Stranger still, it's not a thought he can bring himself to regret.

Wearing the uniform of the people he’d called enemies is unsettling, but as his last memories of the Homestead flash through his mind - all those he’d called friends, called family , suddenly turned against him - he’s certain that wearing his own robes would’ve been worse.

As he steps back into the main room, though, it’s like none of that even matters. The way Cassidy’s eyes light up - “Oh, well don’t you look a right gentleman!” - it fills him with something warm that he can’t remember when he last felt. Warmth. Family. Feeling like he doesn’t have to work to earn affection, the way he suspects it feels to have parents, despite never properly knowing his own.

Perhaps it shouldn’t feel as novel as it does, but he can’t help freezing on the spot. How is he meant to respond to that?

So he doesn't respond, at least, not directly. He asks about the Manuscript - lost, apparently, and some mix of relief and anger flares in his chest. Good, better that no one can get their hands on the damned thing. Good-hearted folk like these - they wouldn't be caught in the crossfire ever again. He'd see to that.

***

He's not expecting it when a man approaches him from behind, the cross on his sash - a Templar cross, it must be - the first and only thing Shay sees. His hand is reaching back for his pistols before he even realizes it - trust isn't something he's keen on having in spades for now.

"Be at ease, Master Cormac, we are friends.” Doubtful. But the man does know his name, somehow, even if Shay can’t guess why. Does he also know -? He must. This dance they’re doing - it’s too familiar. Both of them know what the other is (or rather, was , Shay supposes). He’d have to tread carefully; he has no idea what this Templar wants with him. “The Finnegans were worried you might take matters into your own hands. I am Colonel George Monro.”

Shay nods, the safest thing he can think to do. “Colonel.” The Finnegans, he’s willing to trust, and the Colonel knowing them might have meant something had their son not also been a Templar. As it stands, the connection means little.

“I came to help, but it seems I am late. Thank you for dealing with these foul criminals.” He eyes the gang leader (the Assassin-trained gang leader) Shay had killed just minutes earlier. “They were a blight on New York.”

The words are quick to rub him wrong. “What do you care?” For all Shay might agree about the gangs, he’d yet to meet a British officer who gave a damn about the colonists. Much less one who was a Templar, besides. “You Redcoats are nothing but landlords. The townsfolk here are grinding away, trying to make a living.” And for what, really?

“I cannot blame you for having that impression.” Of course he can’t. It’s true, and Shay had seen it himself. The restrictions keeping merchants from trading as they pleased, the dangers and hardships braved by the colonists only for their earnings to line the pockets of the Crown. It’s the truth, not just an impression. “Some of my comrades have been less than helpful. But I take a different approach.”

“And what is that?” The words are bitter on his tongue.

“I care. I want to see these colonists safe and prosperous.” Years of training are screaming in his head not to trust this man. That he's just another Templar snake who's willing to say anything if it gets him his way. There's no way for Shay to know if he means any of the things coming out of his mouth.

"Noble words." But were any of them true? He’d naively thought others as righteous as the Colonel made himself out to be, and they’d all proven otherwise.

"Perhaps actions will convince you otherwise, Master Cormac." The Colonel gestures for him to lead the way, and he hesitates for a moment - it's a trick, it has to be - before thinking deeper on it. Betrayal still lingers in his mind, learning that the people he’d called his family cared more about ancient artifacts than they did him, or the thousands of innocent lives on the line. He knows now that they must have lied to him all along, and, really, were they all that different from the Templars? Now, he’s not an Assassin anymore, and that’s not enough to change any of what he believes about the Templars, but it’s enough to make him think.

Perhaps he could hear the Colonel out, if nothing else. At worst, his beliefs would be confirmed yet again. At best…

He's not ready yet to think there can be a better outcome.

***

“You can do great things for this city and its citizens. After all, a man needs purpose.” Those are the last words he hears from the Colonel before the man takes his leave, and they cut into him deeper than he'd like to admit. Though it's not for a bad reason of any sort. The way he explains himself - Shay can't help but feel like he can trust him. Perhaps because it sounds like the Colonel trusts him in return, despite having never met, and the two of them having stood on opposite sides. There's more than a chance that it should worry him, but instead it makes him think of something else - the orders and harsh reprimands from the Assassins. He'd known none of them (save maybe Liam) had ever really trusted him or his skills, but he'd not thought that much of it at the time. Assumed it was normal, being that he'd been the newest one there, but now, the way the Colonel was talking to him, he's starting to rethink that. Perhaps starting to resent that, too, whether he likes it or not.

It’s a selfish reason to make any kind of decision, and he knows as much, refreshing as all of it might feel. It’s not something he’d act on alone - he’s already seen what blind faith and desperation can do, and who can pay the price of death and destruction as a result. Lisbon flashes through his mind, as clear as if it’d happened yesterday. Screams of pain and terror still ring in his ears as smoke and sulfur make his eyes and nose sting, heat from the flames burning his cheeks. His rib smarts, and for a moment, he thinks it’s from tumbling through a crumbling building, crashing against walls and floors and furniture, not from falling off a cliff at the Homestead.

He forces himself to breathe and shakes the memories from his mind. That’s what he can’t let happen again. That’s what he has to make right, no matter what it takes.

And so he can't help but feel drawn in by all the things Colonel Monro said, about just doing right by the people. Making their lives better, not through freedom or control - not through the Assassins or Templars - but just by helping where they can.

As badly as he wants to remain skeptical, he can’t find a problem in that, at least.

But he still stands and watches for some time after that, wanting to see for himself. He stays along the sidelines as the citizens of New York wander by, their eyes turning bright as they hear that the old building is to be restored. From their conversations, he learns that the place had once been a church, left to disrepair now with the threat of war hanging over them. And seeing it ready to be restored - it visibly fills them with hope, and that lights something warm in his chest. Something that he's not sure when he felt last.

It reminds him of the way he’d felt when he’d first joined the Assassins, hopeful, and like he was finally sure of what he was doing. But he’d been a fool, then - he knows that, now - and hadn’t known that he’d hurt far more people than he’d help.

He can't say where he stands when it comes to the Assassins and Templars, to the endless war he'd fought in without ever really understanding it, but he's always trusted himself to know what's right. And this - seeing the lives of normal, everyday folk made easier - he can feel is right.

And for now, perhaps that would be enough.

He can accept that much, and knows he should head back to the Finnegans - all else aside, he trusts them. But as he winds through the familiar streets of his home, he can't help but think on the Colonel's offer. The man may be a Templar, but what he's offering - this way to just help people - it feels like a second chance. Like a way to start atoning for all the lives lost in Lisbon. Exactly what the Assassins wouldn't allow him to do.

Perhaps… perhaps this is the way forward. He may not be fully ready to trust the man yet, for all that he seems honorable, but doing some good for the people of the city, protecting them against those who would do them harm - that much, he would do.

[elliesguitarstrings]

Silence (Part 1/Prologue)

Peter Parker x stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This is my first ever post so idk how many people will see it but if you do feel free to send in any requests for Tom Holland or any of his characters and tell me if you like this story - part 2 coming soon!

Warnings: language, awkwardness, a little bit of fluff

italics mean flashbacks

~~~~~~~~

Today was a special day. Well, to you that is. To everyone else, it was just a normal Saturday. But to you, and hopefully to Peter too, it was special.

Today marks one year of you and Peter first meeting. One year since he walked through the glass elevator doors of the Avengers Compound. One year since you met your best friend. You remember it like it was yesterday.

Waking you up from a deep sleep, you hear a loud knock on your door, one you recognized only to be your dad’s.

He opens the door and peeks his head in.

“Hey, get up and come into the living room. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Barely awake, you respond, “No, let me sleep. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Watch your language young lady! Now get your ass out of bed and be out in ten minutes.”

He walks away, not even bothering to close the door.

You groan into your pillow and proceed to throw it across the room as you reluctantly get out of bed.

Lately you’ve been fed up with everyone in the compound, and you’re taking out all your anger on them. But what else are you supposed to do? Everyone treats you like a kid, but they still expect you to act like an adult. They don’t let you go on missions, but they still make you train. They don’t let you go to actual school, but they make you study twice as hard. Everyone is just so hard on you, especially your dad, and you’re fucking done with it.

You walk into the bathroom and pull your hair up into a quick ponytail, not bothering to brush your mess of hair. Hastily, you brush your teeth and splash some water on your face in an attempt to make yourself look somewhat alive, but the dark circles are still extremely noticeable. You walk back into your bedroom and think about changing out of your hoodie and shorts, but you decide against it. You look halfway decent, and whoever it is that your dad wants you to meet certainly can’t be so important that you have to change into something nice.

After a quick look in the mirror, you slowly make your way into the living room, dreading the coming interaction with another one of your dad’s boring co-workers.

However, when you look up and see a teenage boy sitting next to your dad on the sofa, your mood changes.

Your dad stands up and turns to you, gesturing at the boy.

“Y/N, this is Peter Parker, Spiderman, whatever you want to call him. He’s the newest addition to the team, and he’s moving into the compound in a few days. He’s the same age as you, so I thought you should show him around. So be nice.”

Peter blushes and smiles, giving you a small wave.

Suddenly you regret not changing.

He’s cute. So fucking cute. He has fluffy brown hair, brown puppy dog eyes, the cutest smile, and he’s your age. Your age. Everything about him is perfect.

Realizing that you have been staring for probably a little to long, you speak up.

“Um, hi Peter, I’m Y/N. Uh, it’s- it’s nice to have you here. Sorry I look like shit.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Peter responds, just as awkwardly as you.

“You don’t look like shit by the way,” he adds, “you look pretty.”

You smile, about to say thank you when your dad interrupts.

“Well, that was really fucking awkward, but I think you two are going to get along just fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it then, see ya around.”

He winks at you as he leaves to go to his lab, and you roll your eyes in return, mentally hitting yourself at how embarrassing this whole interaction has been so far.

You turn to Peter, “So, uh, why don’t I show you around and you can meet everyone.”

“Sounds good to me!” he smiles.

You start in the kitchen and show him around the compound: the movie room, the game room, the pool, the sun room, the training room, the labs, and the bedrooms, introducing him to all of the Avengers along the way. Finally, you stop at the largest spare bedroom, which happens to be right across from yours.

“This is probably gonna be your room. No one really uses it right now but since it’s the biggest one I thought you might want it.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but even the smallest room here is like ten times bigger than my room, so I’d be happy with anything. But since it’s across from you, I’ll take it.”

You blush, not sure if he’s flirting with you or just trying to be nice. Either way, it’s not helping your already developing crush on him.

“So, um, that’s the tour I guess. What do you want to do now?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t want to leave so you can spend more time with him.

“Well Happy isn’t taking me back home until three, so we still have a few hours to do whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Do you just want to hang out in my room? Maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure! Sounds great!”

The two of you walk across the hall to your room and you open the door, regretting again your poor choice to not clean up this morning. Your bed was a mess, your clothes were strewn everywhere, and your desk was piled high with papers and books.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, my room is such a mess.” you exclaim, rushing to push your clothes in the corner and hastily pull your covers up in a sad attempt to make the bed.

Peter smiles and laughs, “Don’t worry, if you think this is messy, you should see my room. This is nothing.”

You laugh as well, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the TV remote. You pat your bed, motioning for Peter to sit down next to you.

“Y- you want me to sit next to you? Like on your bed?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Oh, um, yeah. But only if you want. You can sit on the beanbag chair over there instead, I guess. I just thought the bed would be more comfortable. And you would be able to see the TV better.”

“Oh, um, ok. That’s fine.”

He makes his way over to your bed and sits next to you, and you silently turn on the TV, starting to overthink everything.

There was a boy. On. Your. Bed. You weren’t doing anything, but still. You suddenly realized how little interaction you’ve had with people your age. Even girls. You didn’t go to school, so you only hung out with the Avengers. The closest person to your age was Wanda, and even she was a lot older than you.

‘Am I being too forward?’ you started to think to yourself. ‘Should I have not asked him to sit on my bed? What is he thinking right now? Oh my god, this is so bad. He probably thinks I’m so weird. He probably hates me. Fuck.’

When you see him looking in your direction, you decide to stuff the thoughts in the back of your head and try to act as normal as possible.

“So, what should we watch?” you ask.

“Um, do you, uh... do you like Star Wars?”

“Are you kidding me? I LOVE Star Wars!” you exclaim, the tension and awkwardness easing slightly.

“Really? My favorite is A New Hope.”

“No shit! Mine too!”

“Then A New Hope it is I guess!”

You turn on the movie, smiling, and you notice that he scoots a little closer to you, seemingly more comfortable.

A few minutes into the movie, Peter breaks the silence between you two and asks, “So what’s it like living with the Avengers?”

“Oh,” you look away from the TV, “it’s cool I guess. But after a while it’s gotten pretty boring. And really frustrating.”

“Frustrating? Why?”

“It’s just, well, they treat me like a kid all the time. And before you say it, yes, I know I am a kid, but it’s still annoying. There’s no one here even close to my age, I mean fuck, Thor’s like 1500 years old. And none of them know how to talk to me. They act like I’m a toddler even though I’m literally sixteen and they never let me go on missions with them, because they don’t think I’m ready even though I’ve been training since I was like ten – “

You cut yourself off, realizing you’ve been ranting for probably a little too long.

“Sorry about that,” you mumble. “It’s just that I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about this.”

“No! Don’t be sorry. That fucking sucks. Not gonna lie, you’re kinda making me regret moving here if that’s how everyone’s gonna treat me,” he laughs.

“They’re not gonna treat you like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m the same age as you.”

“Because. You’re a fucking superhero. They don’t give a fuck about your age if you can climb walls and shoot spider webs out of your hands.”

“Well, even if they don’t treat me like a kid then I’ll still back you up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles. You blush and smile back.

“Thanks”

“Of course.”

He scoots even closer to you so that your shoulders are barely touching. If this had happened five minutes earlier, you would be freaking out. But now, something is different. You aren’t sure what, but you suddenly feel more calm and comfortable with him around.

You finish the rest of the movie in silence, and you realize you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You were scared he would push your head away, but he didn’t care.

“You awake?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night and my dad woke me up early, well, to meet you.”

He smiles down at you, and suddenly your dad bursts through the door. You scramble to sit up, lifting your head off Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey kid, Happy’s here to – oh?” He stares at the two of you sitting next to each other in your bed, both blushing. “Jesus, you’ve only just met and you already slept together? At least tell me you used protection.”

“DAD, OH MY GOD, NO!” you exclaim, blushing even harder now.

“Mr. Stark, I promise. We- we were just watching a movie. Nothing happened!” Peter assures him.

“Sure, sure,” your dad winks at the two of you.

“Dad, seriously. Nothing happened!” you groan in frustration.

“Whatever. Anyways, Happy’s here to take you back to Queens Pete. Be down in five.” He leaves the room.

“God, that was fucking embarrassing,” Peter laughs getting up from the bed.

“That’s my dad for you.”

You both walk to the door, and before you leave the room, you give him a small hug.

“I’m glad you’re moving in, Peter.”

“Me too,” he smiles, “Friends?”

“Definitely.”

You smile thinking back on the memory. After that day, you and Peter have spent almost every hour of every day together. You’re rarely ever apart, even at night. You sleep with him in his bed, and he sleeps with you in yours. The rest of the team bugs the two of you to get together, but you both agree that you are just friends.  Best friends cuddle with each other and kiss each other’s foreheads and play with each other’s hair, right?

[alfredosauce50]

You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]

Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends?  Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.

This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done. 

So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right? 

After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly. 

Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly. 

He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button. 

“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”

“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls. 

“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”

It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal. 

He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.

A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all.  “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?” 

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?” 

He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips. 

“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!” 

A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?” 

He pouted. “Aw...” 

“You damn sadist.” 

“Hehe.” 

“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended. 

He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”

“Unfortunate.” 

“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.” 

You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.” 

The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy? 

“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate. 

“... And blonde hair.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?

You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second. 

“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick. 

“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.” 

Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.” 

You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock. 

“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).” 

He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?” 

“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?” 

Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.” 

“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded. 

Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?” 

While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.

“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention. 

Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his. 

“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.

“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself. 

“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo. 

“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.” 

The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”

“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage. 

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered. 

You were cute.

Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it. 

“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”

Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~” 

His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could. 

Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild. 

Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath.  “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing. 

“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up. 

“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.” 

“Hey, no fair!” 

By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit. 

But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived. 

The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him. 

Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you. 

Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to. 

“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.” 

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.” 

“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.” 

He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?” 

“Mm... Ten.” 

“Fuck me.” 

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up. 

“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.” 

“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?” 

He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later. 

“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.” 

“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.” 

Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.” 

Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.

Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?” 

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.

It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little. 

Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash. 

“Wha--?” 

He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality. 

“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!” 

“How about no?” 

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.” 

“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.” 

You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--” 

But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing. 

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he? 

When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze. 

Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right? 

All he needed to do was to ask you out. 

But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand. 

When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!” 

But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.

If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would. 

As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down. 

It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way. 

You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well? 

The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.

Play this while you read

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement. 

Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance

And no one even knew it was really only you

While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking. 

Nice work, you did. 

You’re gonna go far, kid! 

Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck. 

You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers. 

When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity. 

“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up. 

“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care. 

“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”

The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.” 

It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer. 

“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.” 

He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?” 

“Stealing kisses now, are we?” 

“Touché.” 

Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be. 

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.