#this is probably the closest ive gotten to how he looks like in my head! big round eyes and layered hair and prone to outbursts

[danceintheskies]

look at my horrible son he has fire powers a fresh bachelor's degree a military daddy he has a one-sided beef with and constant masculinity crises

[sturniozo]

In The Shadows IV

Masterlist

“Just one?” Matt asks as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I look down with a deep blush. “I really have to go-“ I mumble.

“My love, you’ll be happy to give in.” He murmurs as he leans in closer to me.

“Matt-“

“Shhh” he shushes me and presses his finger to my lips. “Just let me…” he trails off. He removes his hand from my lips and leans in close, his lips inches from mine. My heart pounds as I feel him breath on my face.

My eyes snap open as the sound of my alarm rings through the room. I sit up in my bed and shut off the constant beeping. I look around the room. No Matt. It was all just a dream. A horrible dream. Like I’d let anything like that happen between Matt and I.

I rub my face in my hands before I throw the covers of the bed off my body. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hitting the cold hardwood floor.

Before I can even stand up from my bed there’s a knock on my door. “Hey, did you get up yet?” Matt asks.

I groan. “Yeah, now leave so I can get dressed.” I snap at him.

As much as I despise Matt, I hate mornings much more. The mix of the two is probably the closest thing to my own living hell there is.

“I made breakfast.” He replies through the door.

I shake my head. “I don’t eat breakfast.”

I can hear Matt’s groan through the door. “Come on, I spent so long trying to get the waffles perfect. I burnt like four batches just to get them right for you.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to try to get on my good side when we’re alone.”

“I’m not trying anything. I thought you’d want breakfast.” He says softly.

I take a deep breath. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright.” Matt says. I hear his footsteps walking away down the hall.

I stand up from my bed, walking to my suitcase in the corner. I pull it over and set it down on the bed, digging through for some clothes for the day.

A party. I can’t believe he’s already gotten us into a party. We only found out about the whole assignment the other day. How could he have pulled this off so quickly? It’s going to be suspicious that we’re the only people no one has heard of in that party of wealthy beneficiaries.

I shake my head. I’ve never been one for dresses or dressing up of any sort. “Foods getting cold!” Matt tells from downstairs.

I roll my eyes and head for the door. I walk downstairs and turn to the right, entering the kitchen.

The counter is a mess, covered in batter and broken eggshells. There’s a pan full of sausage grease burning on the stove, and a plate of overcooked omelettes sitting on the one burner of the stove that’s not in use.

“Matt, what the fuck?” I ask.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, the burns are mostly cheese!” He says as he picks up the plate of omelettes.

“Where are the waffles?” I ask as I sit down at the table.

“Uh, here!” Matt picks up a plate that was covered by paper towels.

“Why are there paper towels on the waffles?” I laugh as I ask.

“They had sausage grease on them.”

“Why?”

“I spilled it.”

“How?”

Matt shrugs. “What do you think?” He asks as he places all the plates on the table. A plate of sausages, waffles, and omelettes.

“Is there enough in our budget to hire a chef?” I ask as I poke the inedible sausage with a fork.

“Hey, I tried!” Matt laughs.

“Not very hard.” I mumble.

“What was that?” Matt asks.

“I said we should throw this out before it mutates and eats us.” I stand up from the table.

Matt frowns and pokes at the omelette that looks like an orange blobfish. “I suppose we can go out for breakfast. Make a face for ourselves.”

“Yeah. You should clean this up first.” I turn around to walk back upstairs.

“You aren’t going to help me?”

“I didn’t make the mess.” I shrug.

“God, you’re like my brother.” He groans.

“That’s a rude thing to say to your wife.” I laugh. “Especially since I know your brother, that’s not a kind comparison.”

Matt laughs. “But really though, aren’t you going to at least help me clean up?” He asks again.

“Can’t hear you, I’m already upstairs!” I yell back as I run up the stairs and to my room. I close the door behind me and giggle as I hear Matt groan loudly and stomp up the stairs.

He opens my door. “You’re sure a child.” I say as I search through my clothes for something to wear to go to breakfast in.

“You’re missing something.” Matt mumbles.

I turn around to face him, confused. “What?”

“Something you’re supposed to be wearing.”

I look down. Shirt, shorts, socks… “What are you talking about?” I ask.

Matt walks up to me. He takes my hand and slips a ring on my finger. “The thing that married people wear.” He says.

“Oh, yeah, that.” I look at the ring. It’s beautiful. Large diamond in the middle with smaller diamonds around it, and it fits perfectly on my finger. “Where did this come from?” I ask. “Did my dad or the case manager pick it out?”

“It’s mine.” Matt says. I look up.

“What?”

“Well, my grandmothers.”

“You’re having me wear your grandmothers ring? For a fake marriage?”

“Why not?” Matt shrugs. He turns around.

“Wait!” I stop him.

“Well if you want to really get married-“ he starts to say.

“What? No, god no!” I laugh and cross my arms. “I just thought you should save your grandmothers ring for someone you really love and are going to marry for real.” I take the ring off and hand it back to him. “We should get different matching ones for the cover.”

“So we’re just going to walk around ringless and hope people know we’re married?” Matt laughs.

“We’ll get-“

Matt shuts me up. “Put the ring back on.”

“You should save it-“

“For someone I really love?” Matt stares at me. “I think that’s passed, don’t you?”

I look down. “Matt, I-“

“No, that was my choice.” He sighs. “Just put the ring on. We should get going before the breakfast hours are over.” He turns around to leave, shutting the door behind him.

“Matt!” I yell through the door.

“Yes, love?” He replies.

“We should match.”

“Match?”

“Yeah, match outfits.”

“Okay.” Matt says. “What did you have in mind?”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @cheesesoda @stvrnise @blueeyedbesson @crazycoka @ambersworld69

[funkii-fox]

ohmygosh i know EXACTLY who ur talking abt on that post with the self shipping hater and like mlm and wlw is better. they get on my nerves SO BAD like ive known them since 2021 or 2022 methinks but i have them blocked cuz no way u can say all that. french people amiright/j

BAHAHA well idk if u actually do, but thank god someone knows my struggle. I cant believe half the shit i read from his texts and stories bruh. Like okay buddy 👁️👄👁️

I feel like after a certain point, if an overwhelming majority of ppl dislike u, even within ur own community, even among ur closest friends, thats when u fail. Thats when u do introspection. Theres always haters trying to drag u down, but this guy has so many ppl that rightfully dislikes him for every single controversy hes ever gotten into. How is everyone else on the Earth wrong and ur the only one thats right?

And this guy knows hes abt to lose me too. Once i made a kinda vent post tht said “demons in my head: leave them before they can leave you”. It was more like a self deprecating meme, and it abt two unrelated moots. But this guy was so insecure and thought it was abt him. And every time i put a vague negative thing on my status like “wtf is wrong w this guy” he always asks abt who the note was abt, probably bc he suspects it’s abt him. Idk tho. Now that i think abt it he could be asking bc hes into drama

See, this guy is so misogynist and “ugh women this” but he LOVES drama and gossip, just like women stereotypically do. He HATES tucutes “grr bruja ari this” but his main oc looks like a girl “hes androgynous” bffr. He hates on women that self ship w ocs but he makes ocs 😭 this guy is the most giant fucking hypocrite I’ve ever seen bro

Recently he got mad at a reel in his feed and put it on his story. This reel was abt someone saying theyre only into autistic ppl, and my first thought was “same ngl there’s something wrong w neurotypicals” but this guy’s first thought was “HURRR DURR STOP SEXUALIZING AUTISTICS” …the ENTIRE comment section was the op fighting for their life bc theyre autistic and for some reason everyone thought they were neurotypical. And that tells me that this guy saw the post and immediately got mad and posted it to his story. Not even looking into the comments to see if his judgment was right💀

I remember he used to flirting w me. He got the fucking hint by now, but it was sooooo annoying 😭 u can tell he was hoping so bad that i would reciprocate his sexual “jokes” and it was awkward asf when i wouldn’t. I wonder if he thought he was sexy to me bc hes French. Like he assumes the accent was enough to pull me 😭 even tho ive stated a lot (not necessarily to him but in general) that im not looking for any romantic or sexual relationship w anyone rn 💀 i think the worst prt is that i dont hate sexual jokes between friends, but if i send these funny sexual memes hes gonna think i want some. Like no thanks :|

[qualityempathshoebear]

Obsession Session (As promised)

Ok so let me show you how delusional i am by telling you as much as i can remember about the boy. Ill call him ceaser salad for now. So basically, me, him, and my friend from sociology talked and laughed, and even played heads and tails together. Once the open-evening was over he headed out before us, and me and my friend went to say bye to our teacher. My friend got picked up by her dad and I decided to go to my busstop down in town, I passed by the busstop closest to the school and figured I would get on the bus to take me to town rather than walking down, but for some reason I decided to not get on the bus. I dont know if it was because I had seen ceaser salad in front of me or because i simply didnt feel like it. But the point is that i didnt get on the bus. I walked up to him instead. We stood next to eachother at the crossing stop light and waited for the sign to turn green. Two girls came up behind us and i used it as an excuse to turn my head and pretend like I had just noticed him standing there.

We gave eachother weird looks and then he began talking to me, or maybe i did to him? I cant remember. Regardless, we were talking. He poked fun at my accent any chance he got, told me I was smart, and even made fun of me for waiting on green lights before crossing the road (as if he hadnt stood and waited there himself; which makes the delusional side of my brain think he was waiting for me). We talked about movies and i told him about how scary movies were my favourite. I feel like he was constantly fliring with me, but i dont know if im just delusional. When we got to another road crossing thingy (I have no clue what theyre cllaed) I told him to "click the button" so we could cross, to which he stopped in his tracks in front of it and said "what do you say after that?". It took me a moment to realise what he meant so we said "please" at the same time. He then clicked the button and said "there are your manners". I just responded with scoffed chuckle. THAT SURE FEELS LIKE FLIRTING TO ME. We then walked for a while longer and he asked if i drank, I told him "not really" and asked if he did, he said he drinks but only on "special occasions", whatever that means. I asked if he vaped, he said he didnt, and i told him i would have bullied him if he did. We then saw the aftermath of a car crashing into a pole by mcdonalds, and I said "thats what happens when you dont wait for the light to turn green before crossing" he then very sheepishly responded "no, thats what happens when you cant fucking drive". He then stopped by the scene because he said he was planning on "being nosy" to which i obviously scolded him for inserting himself into peoples car-crashes. He asked if i was turning left, I said yes. I waved bye to him, although im not sure if he did the same, and then we parted ways. I only then realised I hadnt gotten his socials, but I feel like he would have asked me if he wanted mine. To be fair, if he had asked me after we parted, i wouldnt have been able to hear him over the noise. I havent been able to get him out of my head and its honestly ruining my mood, because I know ill probably never see him on camous again and even if i did i doubt hed talk to me or is even thinking of this encounter the way I am. I feel like he maybe just has a flirty personality because he was kind of like that when we were hanging out with my friend. Ugh I just need to forget about him, but I honestly hope he lowkey is thinking about me too. I wasnt wearing any makeup (not even mascara), and my hair was fucked and matted, there is just no way he actually likes me. UGHHH this is so annoying. Anyways ill end this here because ill just hate myself if i keep thinking about this, plus ive got exams coming up i cant be thinking about this. Byeeee.

[kasaneteto]

more complaining bc this has been burning a hole in my brain

so this guy has the emotional maturity of a toddler. it sounds really harsh & maybe it is, but he really just would rather ignore a problem and pretend it isn’t real forever than face it and work through it. it’s the little things in his behavior that ive observed over the past 4 years of living with him. one of which really stuck out to me recently and has been making me think a lot

so this picture has been on our fridge since we first moved in together. as you can see its super faded from the sun except for the guy who’s face is super visible. that’s because for the past three years the picture has looked like this

the guy who’s face is blocked is my roommate’s ex who cheated on him. now im not gonna act like cheating isn’t a morally reprehensible thing to do in a committed monogamous relationship, but my roommate to this day places all of the blame on his ex for the relationship failing and is sensitive about it even three years later. so since im moving out soon ive been taking my stuff off the fridge, & i absentmindedly moved the magnet covering his face to keep up a piece of paper bc it was the closest one. then later i noticed how much he stuck out bc the rest of the pic is so faded & thought it was funny. when i came back from LA the magnet had been put back over his face!!!!!!!!!! i was like oh my god!!!! you’re STILL that bitter??? you havent even TRIED to move past this????? just take the damn picture down if its that upsetting to you!!!!!! why are you trying so hard to find a new relationship if you haven’t even gotten over your last one!!!!!!! it just makes me so sad and honestly gives me a lot of insight on his mindset right now. in his mind he is the victim of his circumstances & can’t actually acknowledge his unhealthy behaviors that he is aware of beyond “im not perfect” like im not asking you to be perfect bro… im asking you to be decent…. to be a considerate friend…. and ur never gonna be that if you’re too busy feeling sorry for urself :( everyone’s going thru it man but you just keep ur head up and do the work to get better. don’t just wallow in misery forever…. sometimes you have to rest and you can’t always be at 100% but you’ll never be at 100% if you never try. ugh. i gotta get out of here man 😭 his misery is contagious. im thinking of saying something to him before i leave but i’ll probably just end up writing a letter and leaving it or something. at least to apologize for the way i lashed out at him the last time we spoke

[moondoposting]

We know Marc developed DID when he was around 8 (I believe that's how old he is in the flashbacks as a child). But I do really want to know when he was officially diagnosed. Like did Elias take him to see a psychologist as a child like in the comics where he was diagnosed or did he find out later? I really want to know how long he's known he has DID

ok disclaimer from post-writing me. i kind of typed a lot more than i thought i would. it is very stream of consciousness oh my god. also i do not have DID so any information comes from my own personal research and is not reflective of every experience. i will HAPPILY be corrected if anything ive said is harmful/incorrect. also if any of my timeline stuff is wrong!

oh my god when i say i was literally just having this exact thought anon PLEASE get out of my head

because ok

like you said, comics, we already know. but mcu, we dont get aaaaany indicators of when he found out iirc i think partially as a result of marvel's refusal to name it in the show but w/e

and its really setting me on an interesting path of thinking about marc going through most of his life like we see steven in episode 1. just kind of living his life, but with occasional blackouts that leave him somewhere he doesn't recognise having done something he doesn't remember. maybe even rationalising it to himself as a sleeping disorder like steven does.

like, the closest i could think of him finding out would be around 10 probs, if his dad takes him to a psychologist like in the comics (which side note, was so fucking well integrated and didnt feel stupid or forced literally marvel you could have just done this) or latest? honestly after his mom's death? like that event perpetuates a lot of things. and maybe the fact that he finds himself blacking out more and more prompts him to seek a diagnosis (even if he wasnt looking for a did diagnosis specifically).

mmm but then who was steven calling. i always assumed marc set up a number to call.

but then theres also khonshu saying his mind is broken or w/e and marc doesnt give an indication of either "wtf how did you know" or "wtf what are you talking about". and then theres marc saying he made the deal to "save us". but that might have been an after the fact realisation.

HONESTLY MAYBE HE ONLY FINDS OUT CAUSE KHONSHU IS MESSING AROUND IN THERE. khonshu finds this funny british guy bouncing around in his head and hes like "omg marc check this out" and marc has a whole existential crisis about it. so when khonshu finds ANOTHER guy in there hes like "yk im just gonna. keep quiet about this one" and silently feeds him snacks on the side.

cause he also doesnt mention getting booted from the army for a botched psych eval iirc!!! cant lie in an evaluation if you dont know what you have. maybe getting kicked out for the dissociative fugue state incident is what motivates him to get a diagnosis. maybe its mandated after the event. idk enough about military protocol to speak on that.

all is to say marc is definitely aware To Some Degree of what is going on with him, he just probably doesnt have a name for it. which is like. fine. diagnosis is helpful but its not the be all and end all of experience.

i think in any of these scenarios, at least when he was younger it was a lot easier to understand as an "imaginary friends" situation and maybe that faded as he grew up maybe it didnt IDK.

ok so tldr

situations where he would have gotten some kind of diagnosis that would be the most interest story-wise IMO

young, around 8-10 - follows the comics completely, has him spend most of his early life some degree of institutionalised (would explain his mental association with mental hospitals)

post military discharge - pretty big point in his backstory, would work to really solidify the shame he feels around his mental illness (being very public and on record and all that) and would make sense as there would probably be some kind of investigation into the incident that would lead to a diagnosis

post-steven's reappearance - would be the culmination of a Lot of things happening in his life to the point that even stubborn marc spector can't cope and seeks out help. would explain why layla didnt know as i personally believe he cuts contact with her after his mom's shiva. does bring into question a lot of the more solid aspects of steven's life tho, like the phone calls.

crack versions that make me laugh

khonshu just drops the bomb on marc one day and it fucks him up so severely that he never brings it up again

[pluviophile-imagines]

LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈

TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!

Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Shinsou

To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.

He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.

The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.

You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.

Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.

“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.

“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.

Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.

Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.

You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.

You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.

By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.

What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.

You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.

Shigaraki

You’re not jealous.

No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.

Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.

You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.

And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.

He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.

Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”

Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.

He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.

You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.

This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.

You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.

“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.

You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”

He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”

“Yeah, she was.”

There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”

You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.

But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.

“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.

“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”

“Tomura… I—”

“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”

You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.

“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”

You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter IV

Previous|Current|Next

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Subtle Mentions of Torture and Abuse.

Word Count: 3.1K (She a lil short) 

As the name rattles off of Hisoka’s lips, you furrow your eyebrows. Is he someone you know? Is he someone you should know? A thousand thoughts run through you head in the span of a second and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is a reason behind why Hisoka would ask you whether or not you knew someone. 

You also weren’t completely insufferable in your lack of underworld knowledge. You knew who the Zoldycks were. Had heard many of the wealthy families mention the name before. Wealthy families got to where they were not because they didn’t deal in shady things…they just happened to have enough money to pay someone else to do it for them…and keep it from ever tracing back to them. 

You remember being at a gala not to terribly long ago. The patriarch on the family hosting the event had left midway through to speak to an older man with grey/white hair. You’d gone to the bathroom when he’d walked out of the office with the other man—who’d looked extremely pale and weathered as compared to when they’d left. You’d smiled and apologized, telling them you’d gotten turned around on your way back to the party, and the man with the grey/white hair, Zeno Zoldyck you’d come to learn, had simply smiled at you before nodding to the host. The other man had disappeared out of view and the two of you were left alone.  

“My, my you have grown into a beautiful young woman since the last time I saw you y/n.” He’d said and you could only blink, registering quickly the sheer power rolling off this man. There was no malice behind it, nor intimidation effect, it was simply him. 

“I’m sorry sir, and forgive me for being rude, but do we know each other? I don’t recall ever having met you before.” You said, smiling softly but anxiously, wracking your brain for anything to give you a clue as to not incur your mother’s wrath for forgetting a powerful man’s name and presence. 

He chuckled, walking closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “No need to worry dear, we’ve never met before per se, but I do know who you are. I’m well aware of your parents’…pursuits. Your name has come up in conversation before and the last time I saw you or a photo of you, you were quite small. Maybe no older than 10 or 11. I was merely making an observation.” 

You smiled again and nodded you head, understanding and yet feeling embarrassed and ashamed that you probably looked no better than a filly up for auction, because truthfully…you weren’t. 

“Oh! Well it’s nice to meet you—” 

“Zeno, Zeno Zoldyck. And it’s nice to finally meet you as well y/n y/l/n. And I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see each other.” 

Thinking back on that situation now, back on the first time you ever met Zeno, you wondered how exactly it was your name had ever befallen the ears of the Zoldyck patriarch. Regardless, to be asked about a Zoldyck was odd, even coming from Hisoka. 

“I know of the Zoldycks, I’ve met Zeno a couple of times. But I’m not well versed in the members of the family. Is there any particular reason why you ask Hisoka?” You ask, thinking it over more as you answered, wondering where the missing link was in your knowledge. But when you looked up, in that moment, when the words had only just left you mouth, the look in Hisoka’s eyes made you think that not knowing may have been a small grace than a hinderance. And in that moment, you were somewhat grateful the water was already growing cold, because the shock of chill that ran through the air wasn’t nearly as potent. 

The small seep of bloodlust in the air made you take in a breath and try to sink into the furthest side of the tub away from him. The hairs on your body stood up and gooseflesh peppered across your skin. You bit back the whimper that wanted to escape and instead looked at the imposing man before you with wide eyes. The shift in demeanor, you realized, was not direct at you but something else entirely. 

“Did you ever see the man you were initially going to be engaged to?” Hisoka asked and this made you pause because you had told Chrollo of your past but not the rest of the Troupe and you were certain that it was not information passed along to them as they’d been dismissed when the discussion had happened. 

Was this slip up intentional, to make you put the pieces together or had Hisoka’s apparently bloodlust caused his tongue to run away from him? If you were a wagering girl, and you really weren’t, you would’ve bet on the former instead of the latter. Hisoka was calculating and manipulative. You knew his interest in you had made you into a new toy to play with and this seemed like a twist in his play with you. Keeping this in mind, you responded accordingly. 

“Yes, once, late one night when I snuck into my father’s office. I wanted to see what he looked like. This elusive person who was supposedly going to be my husband. He was attractive, but I never was told his name because, for whatever reason, my parents ended up forgoing the engagement. I was never told why exactly, and it never dawned on me to ask honestly.” You chose your words carefully, watching him the entire time to gage the way he reacted. 

That wasn’t entirely a lie, it wasn’t also entirely the truth. You knew why you parents had never gone through with the engagement; the family, while incredibly powerful and wealthy, was part of the seedy underground and that didn’t bode well with their agenda. A family like the Zoldycks fit perfectly within that description you realized. Although, it was an inclining you’d had after the second time you’d met the Zoldyck patriarch and his son, Silva, the current head of the family and business. They’d been nice, familiar even, and they’d been assessing you. At the time, you hadn’t exactly been sure as to why, but you’d wondered if they’d been the family who’d been very adamant about marrying you to their eldest son. 

However, they thought had derailed when Zeno had made an offhanded comment about wondering if you’d be into younger men and you’d been utterly confused. Were they not them? Were you mistaken and they too were now interested after meeting you? You’d never truly gotten your answer though because the next time you saw them, it had been a strained meeting as you’d been their target. Why Zeno had come and told your parents that information instead of just doing his job, and risking his reputation in the process, had puzzled you even more. 

“HISOKA! Enough!” The roar from Phinks had startled you as had the slamming of your bedroom door. Curling in on yourself, you’d just managed to cover yourself before Phinks and Shalnark had busted through.  “Keep your bloodlust in check, it’s giving me a headache. And what are you even doing in here you pervy bastard? Leave the poor girl alone. You’re needed downstairs anyway, something’s come up.” 

Both blonde men gave you a quick once over, probably making sure that you weren’t harmed by the magician but nodding their heads towards the door. Shalnark gave you a smile and a wave before trailing behind Phinks. “Come on Hisoka, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.” 

Hisoka turned, beginning to move towards the door again before stopping. “Don’t think too hard on it little dove. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

And with that he’d walked out, slamming the bedroom door behind him, leaving you utterly confused and feeling chilled to the bone. 

Was this Illumi Zoldyck guy your previous potential fiancé? 

Was there another member of the Zoldyck’s who had almost taken that roll instead? 

Or was Hisoka just trying to find out some sort of other information that you just weren’t able to see yet? 

You didn’t know the answer to those questions right now…but you were certain you were going to get them, whether you wanted to know or not. 

That night, you’d gone to bed shortly after you’d forced yourself to climb out of the bathtub. The water had grown cold, and your skin was pruning uncomfortably. The peace in which you had hope to find, even a sliver of, had never come to you, so you hoped maybe sleep would just be a void. 

And while you hadn’t been completely wrong, you also hadn’t been completely right. 

At first, you’d fallen asleep easily, not even the noises of what was taking place downstairs had deterred you from finding solace in the black abyss. However, that had apparently been short lived as a few hours later, you’d slipped into a nightmare.  

You were surrounded by people you didn’t know, and they were talking about you, looking down on you. It was then you realized that you were strapped to a table and that you had wires running from your body to machines. They didn’t appear to be normal medical equipment though, but you couldn’t say for certain that they were made out of nen either. Regardless, seeing the wiring connecting to your body and then to unknown machines left your blood running cold and your mind running a mile a minute as to how to get yourself out of this situation. 

“She’s extraordinary. Just extraordinary! With powers like hers…you could rule the world…could rule worlds. There is an unlimited number of things you could do and accomplish with this kind of power. Who knows where it stops!” The excited voice from beside you startled you. 

The small man in a lab coat and mask was standing closest too you, scribbling things on a clipboard as he looked at you in awe. You tried to ask what was going on, how you had gotten here, what he was talking about, but nothing came out. Not even a whimper and whisper of breath. You frantically looked around, trying to find a face, a friend, anyone you recognized and kept coming up empty. The faces were blurred, and your eyes began to strain. The sound of voices chattering and a machine clicking barely registered to you…

…but the pain certainly did.

Excruciating was putting it mildly and you quickly understood why you were bound, outside of not allowing you to flee your captors. The pain seared through even molecule in your body and those that it hadn’t even created yet. Your back arched off the table and your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Your throat felt raw, like you’d done it before…possibly even several times before. The only thing that actually seemed to escape you were the tears from the corner of your eyes as the pain stopped and deftly you registered that the machines had stopped but the voices had picked up. 

What they were saying, you couldn’t tell. But as the noise kicked up tenfold, the pain did as well, and this time when you screamed…a noise came with it. 

“Y/n wake up! It’s just a dream! You’re fine. Wake up!” You bolted up right, screaming yourself hoarse as the pain creeped its way from fantasy into reality. It jarred you to the bone and without thinking you struck out at the closest thing, sending it hurling away from you in an effort to end whatever was causing you pain. 

What you hadn’t realized was that that “thing” in which you had sent flying had been Chrollo. Didn’t realize it was him till he was nearly striking the wall on the other side of the room, caught off guard by your sudden attack and the power behind it. It was also then that you realized there was an aura radiating around you and there was immense power coming from it. 

You looked to Chrollo wondering if he had always been this strong and had somehow been masking it. But looking at him, seeing the wild, almost gleeful look in his eyes, made you realize that the power was not coming from him…but yourself. 

“I need you to breathe for me y/n and focus on controlling the aura that’s around you. If you don’t get a control over it, it’ll continue to seep out of you, and you’ll pass out from the loss.” He spoke softly, walking up to you slowly like you would a terrified animal, afraid that in its fear, will lash out at you and go for your jugular. 

However, his tactics were a bit sabotaged when Franklin and Feitan came flying into the room, nen activated and ready to take on anyone who posed a threat. The hostile energy pouring out of them had your fear peaking again, the faces from your dream flashing before your eyes and the power in which you’d thrown at Chrollo was surging again, zeroing in on the new threats and detonating without so much as a blink from you. 

Both of their boys went flying as well, Chrollo, seemingly reading your nanosecond of a shift in body language, braced in anticipation, activating his own aura, and deflecting easily. As he seemed to watch two of his strongest members go soaring across the room as if it was no big deal, the look in his eyes seemed to increase tenfold and suddenly he was behind you, wrapping himself around you and smothering you face into his chest. 

“Shhh, you’re okay. They aren’t going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you little one. I promise.” He stroked your hair and while you realize the sentiment that he was going for, the affection left you feeling even more displaced. 

You could feel your body seemingly gearing up for another act and, despite still being unsure as to where these people lie on the spectrum between friend and foe, you did not want to hurt them anymore than you already had. With that in mind, you tried to even your breathing out; tried to think of a dam stopping the free flow of water, and all thing similar to keep yourself from exploding with aura again. And that, coupled with Chrollo’s continued words of assurance, seemed to do the trick, and stop up the free flow of energy. 

As the bubble around you seemed to smooth and flow but not run, you realized you’d started to sob at some point, the tears streaming down your face and a near continual stream of whimpers and apologies pouring from your mouth. Apologies to Chrollo for the initial attack, apologies to Franklin and Feitan who’d only come to make sure everything was okay. You didn’t know what was going on or how things had escalated so quickly but you were sorry and you hadn’t meant to hurt them. 

You weren’t entirely certain the message hadn’t gotten out clearly, if the pissed off look on Feitan’s face was anything to go by, but you weren’t entirely certain that hadn’t been there prior as the man seemed to wear a scowl frequently. 

“What…happened…?” Feitain asked and you could feel Chrollo shift, looking at them while maintaining the comforting stroking on your hair. 

“I’m not sure. I came up here to check on her when I felt a spike in aura and heard her crying out. I couldn’t sense another presence outside of her own, but we’ve met nen users capable of cloaking themselves before. However, when I came in, she was thrashing about, when I woke up her…the same thing that happened to you happened to me.” 

“Clearly not as hard though. You seem fine. I feel like I’m going to be sore for days after that power she just threw at us.” Franklin muttered rubbing at his arm and stomach. 

“Such…a…. baby…” Feitan muttered, earning a side-eyed glare from Franklin. 

“I wouldn’t say it was any less powerful, it was more like she registered who was in the room with her right as she threw the power out. I’m almost certain she did the same with you, and my presence so close by also muted her attack, afraid she’d hurt me in an effort to harm you two.” 

Franklin and Feitan looked from Chrollo to you and then back to Chrollo before looking at each other in disbelief. “You’re saying that wasn’t her full power?” Franklin asked, the shock and awe clearly evident in his voice. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I can’t even begin to feel the depths of her power, let alone where it ends.” 

The words seemed to hang in the air, all three men seemingly having a silent conversation that you were not perve to, nor did you think you ever would be. You had known from the start, regardless of what degree of comradery you obtained with these people you would always be an outsider, never allowed to fully know the scope of everything. You’d never be told all of the details, never know the full extent of all of their abilities, never know the ins and outs of it all. And you did not mind that, not at the moment at least, because for what you did not know, you had come to understand that these were dangerous people, people that were probably on several hit lists and wanted by many…and you did not know if you ever wanted to truly be associated with them. 

While sitting in the tub, you’d come to the conclusion that you would use them to obtain the skills necessary to save your younger siblings…and that would be the extent of it. You were not a killer, did not fancy yourself someone who killed for sport or out of the desire to prove you were stronger or better than others. No, you did not believe your wants in life to align at all with those of the people in this group nor did you think they ever would. So you’d do what was necessary to be able to get your siblings back, to be able to protect them and keep them safe till they were capable of doing as such on their own. But once you’d achieved that goal…you were as good as gone. 

[blingywitch]

The First Step - Chapter IV

Omg hi! I am so sorry this took so long to get out. It took me a lot longer than expected to write but anyways, it’s here now!

This chapter is a lot longer than the others I’ve written in this mini series. I had a lot that I wanted to include and didn’t realize how much it was until I re-read this so I hope you like this huge chapter of pure fluff. :)

Finally, this is the last chapter of this story. I had so much fun writing it and it makes me very happy to see that you guys enjoyed it as much as you did. (I may write a mini Sequel with one or two parts. Maybe write the wedding I don’t know yet.) but moving on, as I’ve said before, thank you for all the love, and enjoy. <3

The First Step Masterlist & Full Masterlist

Characters and universe belong to, @lumosinlove

CW: mentions of food.

—

The team had finished practice and were now skating off the ice, tired, sweaty and ready to cool down in the gym and head to the showers. Well, maybe just the Cubs planned on doing that. The rest of the team however, unbeknownst to them, had other things in mind.

Walking into the locker room Finn, Logan and Leo were all grabbed by the shoulders and sat down in whoever’s stall was closest.

“Alright boys, sit the fuck down and tells us how this happened. Details. Go.” James prodded.

“You just sat us down” Logan deadpanned, smirk playing at his lips.

Finn huffed, though he was smiling—still. “Can we at least get out of our gear first? Get a shower-“

“No!” The entire team shouted back.

Finn put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay we’ll tell you.” He then looked to Logan. “Lo?”

Logan stood up and walked over to join Leo; who had been sat down at the other side of the room— in, from what Logan could see, looked like kuny’s stall— sitting down next to him and intertwining their fingers. Finn wasn’t long joining the two and then Logan took a deep breath, “It wasn’t anything special-“

He was cut off by Leo smacking his arm. Logan rolled his eyes playfully and continued, “Fine. It wasn’t anything big and fancy.”

One week earlier

The sun was streaming trough the blinds of their bedroom window when Logan woke up, sandwiched between his boys. Opening his eyes, squinting slightly from both sleep and the brightness of the room, he looked at Leo and Finn. In the morning sun he could see every little detail of them— every little detail that he loved. Hundreds of freckles adorned Finn’s face, fanning over his cheekbones and nose going all the way down to his shoulders; resembling the thousands of stars in the sky. Careful not to wake him Logan turned over to get a better look at Leo, who had his arm loosely around his waist. He noticed that, in the sun, the younger boy’s hair looked more like the sun than the sun itself. The blonde and white strands glistening and glowing in the light. Logan had to hold himself back from running his fingers through it. He loved these boys so so much and today was the day they would learn just how much.

Today was the day.

Logan peeked over Leo’s shoulder to look at the clock on the nightstand, it read ‘6:15 am’. That was good. Leo and Finn wouldn’t be up for at least another three hours, four if he was lucky— it was Saturday after all and they had nothing they needed to do today. Logan had gotten unbelievably lucky by coach giving them the day off.— he had time.

Sighing to himself he removed Leo’s arm, carefully climbed over Finn and got out off bed. He padded around the house for a little, toothbrush in one hand phone in the other, sending texts and making preparations for the day. After he was finally dressed and ready to go he gave his boys one last kiss on the cheek and he was gone.

—

“Thank you, Celeste, for doing this on such short notice,” Logan said as he sat down at the Dumais’ kitchen island.

“De rien, Logan. You know I don’t mind. But are you going to tell me why I had to cook all this food last night?”

“Well... I can... but you can’t tell anyone, not even Dumo.”

Celeste furrowed her eyebrows but motioned for him to continue.

“...I’m proposing today.” Logan said, his voice barely above a whisper. The rest of the Dumais’ were still asleep but he couldn’t risk anything.

Though his efforts were probably in vain because Celeste let out a very loud gasp at that, quickly covering her mouth and looking towards the stairs, listening for any sign someone had woken up. After the house stayed quiet she looked back at Logan.

“Logan... that’s amazing.” Celeste walked over to Logan and placed a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, Logan couldn’t describe how it made him feel. But he decided on happy for the time being. He was proposing today. “Moi aussi....”

Celeste stepped back and Logan met her eyes, “My lips are sealed.” She said, he just smiled at her.

“Now. You should get going, I don’t know when those boys of yours will be up but I know mine will be soon, so” Celeste pushed the dishes of food towards Logan and poked him in the arm. “Go. Get.”

Logan chuckled. “d'accord, d'accord I’m going.”

—

On second thought maybe Logan had gotten up to early.

He’d wanted to make sure he had enough time to do everything it was he needed get done. And he had gotten everything done, which was good. But it was still only 8:30 am, and Logan was just standing in his kitchen unsure of what to do next. He could wake them up... but he didn’t wanna do that, it was their day off. But at the same time, being here alone and just waiting for them to wake up was driving him crazy.

So Logan decided he wouldn’t wait alone. Taking one last look at the array of food before him, he set off for the bedroom.

Finn and Leo were exactly where they were when Logan left a few hours before, except now Finn was rolled over onto his back and had his arm thrown over his face, Leo laying a bit closer to him than before.

He smiled at how cute they looked and tiptoed over to the bed, dropping himself down beside Leo and waited. Letting his mind run wild with what was about to happen.

—

Leo woke up about an hour later, after rubbing his eyes and stretching he felt a hand on his back and a kiss to his shoulder. Leo smiled softly and turned over. “Hmm, morning.” He said, nuzzling into Logan’s chest.

“Bon matin, mon amour.” Logan greeted him, just as Finn started to stir. He groaned and his eyes meet Logan’s as they opened.

“I’m the sleepyhead s’morning I see.” He said, upon seeing his boyfriends next to him already awake.

Logan huffed out a laugh. “Morning to you too, Harz.”

Finn just smiled and got up on an elbow, leaning over Leo he gave Logan a quick kiss on the lips. “Morning.” He said, pulling away.

He then moved from Logan to Leo, bending down and kissing his jaw, the only part of the boy’s face that was exposed. “Morning Peanut.”

“Hmm.” Was the only response he got.

Finn laughed into Leo’s neck. “You awake yet?”

“Mm’no” Leo replied, word muffled my Logan’s chest.

“Well you can go back to sleep for a little bit, okay?”

“M’kay” Leo mumbled, Finn did not have to tell him twice.

They stayed quiet for another few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before Finn asked, “So what’s on the schedule for today?”

“Nothing.” Leo, who had finally decided to wake up said, rolling onto his back. “I’m staying here. All day.”

“Well as much as I’d love to do that mon chéri, I have something planned.” Logan chimed in.

“And what would that be?” Finn challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see.” Logan smirked. “C’mon.” He said, standing up and grabbing one of their hands each.

“Ugh fine.” Leo groaned though he was now curious as to what Logan had in store for them.

“So moody in the morning, Peanut.” Finn said teasingly.

“Oh hush you.” Leo playfully smacked his arm.

That only made Finn smile.

“C’mon,” Logan singsonged, pulling them forward. “you’re so slow.”

Despite all his previous nerves about this day, now that it was here Logan was surprised to find out that those feelings had miraculously disappeared and he felt completely fine. The only emotion flowing through him being pure euphoria. He was everything but nervous and he thanked whatever was responsible for that.

Finn and Leo were finally up and smiling brightly, Logan immediately stared dragging them out of the bedroom, walking backwards so he could catch their reactions.

They had just reached the living room when Leo and Finn froze. From here they could see the arrangement of food that sat in the kitchen. There were trays of cinnamon rolls, fruits and berries and well, anything you could thing of. Logan might have gone overboard, but he really didn’t care at the moment.

“Oh.” Leo broke the silence, staring over Logan’s shoulder.

“What’s the occasion?” Finn asked.

“No occasion.” Logan replied. “I just love you.”

Logan dropped their hands and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. “Hello? Are you just going to stand there all day or do you want some breakfast?”

The two other boys were moving again and in no time had two plates of food in front of them.

“So, Lo” Leo started, after three had been eating in silence for a while. “Where did all this food come from? Because you certainly didn’t cook it.”

Logan let out a mock gasp at that. “How dare you underestimate my cooking skills!”

“What!? Am I lying?”

“No.” Finn said around a mouthful of eggs.

Logan flicked a blueberry at him.

“Hey!”

Next to them, Leo laughed, “Alright, alright don’t waste the food.”

Finn jerked his head at Leo, “The chef in that one is coming out.” He said to Logan, who laughed.

Finn got another blueberry flicked at him, this time by Leo.

—

Logan had to get the rings.

After the three had eaten breakfast they had all made their way to the couch and were now tangled around each other, relaxing and watching a movie. It was the perfect moment. But of course, Logan didn’t have the rings on him. They were at the end of the hallway, stashed in the back of a closet. The only place Logan could think of where they wouldn’t be found accidentally. He had to get them.

“Finn?” Logan tried to get Finns attention.

Finn hummed showing he was listening, though his eyes were fixed on the tv.

“Can you let me up for a second?” Logan asked. Like always, he was squished between the two of them.

“Mhmm.” Finn replied and stood up to let Logan go.

“Wait!” Leo said Suddenly, arms outstretched. “where are you going? Come back.”

“I’ll be back Knutty, don’t worry.” Logan laughed, walking away. “I’m just getting blankets.”

And in no time Logan was back, with a blanket in one hand and two rings in his back pocket.

“You’re the best.” Finn said as Logan handed him the blanket.

Leo sat up, taking the blanket from Finn and putting his feet in his lap. He motioned for Logan to sit next to him and then put the blanket over them.

“Je t’aime.” Logan whispered pecking Leo on the lips, he reached out and grabbed Finn’s hand. “You too, Fish.”

‘Here goes nothing’ Logan thought. He picked up the remote and turned the tv off.

“Lo, what are you doing?” Confusion laced Finn’s voice

“Do you know how much I love you?Both of you?” Logan was now gripping both of their hands like his life depended on it. The next thing that came out of his mouth even surprised him, ���épouse-moi?”

Leo froze.

“W- what?” Finn asked, heart rate picking up.

Logan reached into his back pocket; when his hand reappeared he was holding three identical sliver bands in his palm. “Marry me?” He said again, firmer this time.

When no one said anything Logan continued, “I could get started on all that, ‘oh we’re to young and I don’t know if we’re ready’ shit, but I won’t. If you’re ready I’m ready. And if you’re not, then I’ll be here when you are; Because I love you both so much and I’d wait eternity for you. So... marry me?”

Logan looked back and forth between the two. Leo was first to break the silence, “Yes.” He breathed and Logan finally let his smile show.

He turned to Finn who was still staring at the rings in his hand. “Fish?”

Finn finally tore his eyes away from the rings and when he looked up Logan noticed a tear making it’s way down his face. Logan smiled softly at him.

“Yes. Oh my god, yes!” He beamed and tackled Logan in a hug, only breaking away to pull Leo in as well.

They fell into the couch again, in a puddle of happy tears, kisses and whispered I love you’s. Fully ready to start the next chapter of their lives, being with each other every step of the way.

As Logan placed the rings on their fingers the last thing Finn said before he was tacked by two boys and a bunch of pillows was, “Fuck, I love my life.”

Present day

Logan finished his story and looked around at his teammates, Dumo spoke up first. “Wait. Celeste knew and I didn’t!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surp- hmff” Logan was hit Square in the stomach by a hockey glove— thrown by Dumo of course.

“Rude.” Logan mumbled.

Leo looked to his left, hoping to find Finn. Instead, something else caught his eye and he burst out laughing, “Potts are you crying?” He asked.

“No!”

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

What the fuck was he thinking?

That was the first thought in Peter’s mind when he opened his eyes the next morning and remembered what he had done the night before. Agreeing to meet with a subscriber, really, how dumb was that? It was one of those things he did before bed when his brain was too slow to make good decisions and then the next morning there were consequences. Consequences. Peter couldn’t deal with fucking consequences, he was still struggling with the fallout of his other terrible life choices.

I should cancel, he thought, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to wake himself up.

He should definitely cancel. Right. It was only reasonable. He could tell Tony he slept on it and realized it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Or he could just say he was sick – for the foreseeable future. Or something. He would figure it out as he typed.

He sighed heavily and reached for his phone on the nightstand, pulling up his chat with Tony. He was going to call the whole thing off – he was! – but he made one crucial mistake. Before he started typing an excuse, he re-read the conversation from the night before. He didn’t understand why or how, but Tony’s words just – inebriated him, and by re-reading them, he was put under his spell all over again.

I need to see you, he said.

Not want. Not would like. Need. The word choice wasn’t lost on Peter, but he wondered if he was reading too much into it, if maybe Tony just said the first thing that came to mind without giving it much thought. But it couldn’t be casual, could it? Nobody would say they needed something casually.

Right? 

He pictured the older man holding him close, whispering in his ear, “I need to see you”, until, somehow, in his imagination, words got lost somewhere and it became, “I need you”. Peter shivered just thinking about it. He was sure his voice would exude power and confidence, he just knew it, he  wouldn’t be able to resist Tony’s commands, and yet–

Please.

He asked nicely. Peter was hyper-aware of the fact that the word “please” had an unreasonable and slightly concerning effect on him, he should probably talk to someone about that, but it just did. It fucking did. Tony could have demanded whatever he wanted – and embarrassingly, Peter would have probably said yes. He could have been an asshole about it, pushy, like some other people were, but no. He was…

I’ll treat you right.

Peter never stood a chance, he realized, sighing, letting his phone fall off his hand and onto the bed. That man knew exactly what he was doing, didn’t he? Peter wondered if he was that transparent, if anyone who talked to him for more than five minutes could see how needy he was, how badly he craved affection. If so, how embarrassing was that? A touch-starved porn star with feelings?

Ex-porn star, his brain supplied, and Peter rolled his eyes at himself. But still, technically, he was not a porn star anymore, he was more like… A model. A social media influencer? An adult entertainer. He could settle for that.

He picked his phone back up and looked at the chat, re-reading their conversation from the night before, over and over again. At least it didn’t seem like he thought Peter was a hooker – well, he hadn’t offered money, so Peter assumed he meant it as a casual meeting, not a business transaction. Nothing else has to happen, he promised. Nobody would ask a hooker out not expecting anything else to happen.

Right?

While he freaked out wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into, his phone beeped and vibrated in his hand, as he got a notification saying he had a text from an unknown number. He frowned, because not a lot of people had his number, but when he opened the text message, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“Hey, babe, it’s Quent. I saw you unblocked me on Instagram. Can we talk?”

He felt immediately dizzy, his vision blurred and his hands shook. His only reaction was to throw the phone as far away from him as he could, as if it was on fire. His throat closed up and breathing became harder, he thought he might suffocate, as he sat up on the bed and tried to take deep breaths. Deep breaths. Tried not to get lost in his –

“I can’t do this anymore, Pete,” was the first thing he said the minute the younger man walked out of the en suite bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

“Do what?” He asked, confused, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Beck slowly got out of bed and walked to him. Peter noticed he wasn’t naked anymore, he had put on some pants and a t-shirt. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation.

“This. Us.” He gestured between them and Peter stared at him for a few seconds, as the words flew around in his head, refusing to provide any meaning. After a couple of minutes, he laughed weakly, even though his eyes burned and his chest felt crushed. Beck’s expression remained impassive.

“You’re joking, right?” Even as he asked that, he knew in his heart that he wasn’t. His face fell when Beck simply shook his head. “Quent… What...” He didn’t even know what to say, what to ask. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, trying to stop his eyes from watering, Beck hated it when he cried for no reason. “Listen, let’s just – let’s just talk about this, I’m sure–“

“There’s nothing to talk about, Peter, I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry.” He took the two steps that separated them and ran a hand down the younger man’s wet cheek and Peter grasped it desperately, as if it could make him stay. “You’re immature, needy and quite frankly… a little boring for someone who gets fucked for a living.”

“I can do better, Quent, I can change, please don’t – don’t leave me,” he begged quietly, voice cracking, barely audible over the sound of his own sobs. Beck winced, pulling his hand away.“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please… Please, don’t leave me...” He shut his eyes tightly, trying to wake up from that nightmare. Just a few minutes earlier, everything was fine, they filmed a scene, Beck told him to get in the shower and the minute he walked back into the bedroom everything went to shit, how the fuck did that happen?  

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Peter. Look at you, listen to yourself right now. It’s… Pathetic.” He looked at him like he was the saddest sight he had ever seen, a mixture of pity and disgust, annoyance and impatience. Peter remembered a time when he looked at him like he was  precious, like he was the most important person in the world… What went wrong? Where did he fuck up? How could he fix it?

“Quent, I-I – you’re all I–“

“That’s the problem, Pete,” he scoffed, shaking his head with an incredulous smile on his face. “I’m tired of being your everything, it’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.” He leaned against the wall next to the bedroom’s door, as Peter freaked out just a few feet away, thinking he was having an actual heart attack from how bad hearing that fucking hurt. “I don’t love you anymore.”

He was pulled from his memories when the doorbell rang and his heart jumped. Could it be him at the door? He couldn’t have found him, he had no idea where Ned and MJ lived – hell, he had no idea where Peter went, he didn’t even bother to ask. For all he knew, Peter could be living on the streets. He knew he had no money, no family, and he didn’t fucking care, he just fucking kicked him out, he barely gave him time to pack all of his things, his eyes were cold, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for Peter to leave. And he begged and kept begging, and–  

Fuck, he was losing it. He was going back to that dark place he had barely crawled out from just weeks earlier.

He took a deep, calming breath and shook his head, trying to get his emotions under control. It was not Beck at the door. He had no way of finding him, and Peter knew he wouldn’t even try to. The only reason he had to contact him was probably a job. He knew a lot of people in the porn industry would still try to book him through Beck, since he was his agent for so long. That was obviously the reason he was trying to reach out. Money. As always. That was all.

So he took another deep breath and walked slowly to the front door. When he checked the peephole,  Ned and MJ were casually standing outside, talking to each other like nothing was wrong in the world. He didn’t think twice and yanked the door open.

“Get dressed, loser, we’re going– what the fuck!?” MJ’s eyes almost jumped out of their sockets once she took a look at him. He knew he must look like garbage, he had no idea how he was even standing on his own two feet, he felt like his whole body was falling to pieces. He threw his arms around Ned, who was closest to him, and the older boy just pulled him close and let him bury his face in his neck, not missing a beat.

“Shh, it’s ok, buddy. Everything’s fine now.” He rubbed his back gently and Peter cried a little harder, a mixture of relief, sadness and regret filling his chest, leaving him confused and exhausted all at once. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute. MJ, bring him some water, will you?” He pushed him lightly inside the apartment and directed him to the only piece of furniture in the living room, crouching down in front of him as MJ rummaged his tiny kitchen. “You ok, man?”

“I’m ok, I’m ok. It’s just… one of those days.” He forced a smile, trying to dry his face with the collar of his shirt. He didn’t want to tell them that Beck had tried to reach out, it would only cause them to worry unnecessarily. They were the ones who had convinced him to block his number, even if Peter insisted Beck would never call.

MJ hurried back from the kitchen and thrust a glass of water in his face, seeming a little nervous and completely out of her element. He realized that it was probably the first time they ever saw him in such bad shape, he didn’t have the energy to try to put up a strong front for them, which he always did, ever since he was a ten-year old boy. They had seen him cry before, of course, just probably not like that. Peter felt like shit and he knew he looked like it, too.

He drank the water that was offered to him just to have an excuse not to talk for a few seconds, as he tried to cool down and get himself back under control. MJ was fidgeting, standing beside Ned who was sitting on the floor, rubbing Peter’s knees comfortingly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ned asked, squeezing his leg, and he shook his head firmly.  

“No, thanks. I’m fine, really. Did you have plans for today?” He looked at his friends and noticed they both had their jackets on and looked ready to go out. It was, after all, a sunny Saturday morning. “I’ll go get dressed right now.” He tried to get up from the armchair but MJ placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, we can stay in, if you want.” She assured him, still looking a little freaked out, which was funny to watch. She was never very good at comforting people.

“No, that’s stupid, come on,” He got up, forcing Ned to do the same, and headed to the bedroom, but the older boy grabbed his arm before he could go too far.

“Don’t worry, c’mon, let’s go down to our apartment, at least we have a couch.”

Peter wanted to insist that he was okay to go out, but if he was honest with himself, he was... not okay. To do anything. And he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

So he just nodded at his friends and followed them downstairs. Back at their place, he plopped down on the couch with MJ next to him, as Ned headed for the kitchen. He came back with ice cream and three spoons and Peter smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture.

“So… Bad day?” Ned asked sympathetically as Peter pretended to focus on the frozen desert.

“Bad day,” he answered, simply, with a small smile on his face, and his friend nodded in understanding.

“Did something happen or…?” He insisted and Peter stuffed his mouth with enough ice-cream to give himself a brain freeze, just so he could avoid talking for a while. He shrugged.

“No, just… Memories.”

“Of course,” MJ scoffed, as she stabbed the ice-cream with her spoon. “That asshole. I can’t believe he gets to be your first love. That fucking sucks.” Peter was sure MJ didn’t mean to make him feel bad – or rather, worse – but he hadn’t even thought about that yet. The fact that Beck was his first love. His first everything, really. Nothing could ever change that fact. He swallowed the lump in his throat with a spoonful of chocolate chip ice-cream. “Don’t worry, one day you’ll find a decent man who will show you what a healthy relationship looks like, you know. That perv deprived you of even that.” MJ shook her head and Peter sighed, wincing.  

“I don’t think I can find a decent man, MJ,” he mumbled, looking down at the ice-cream pint. “I’m a certified whore now. Imagine Prince Charming googling my name and finding my gang bang video, or the fisting one.” He scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t dare to look up at his friends, he played with the melting ice-cream and shrugged. “I’m sorry for the mental image.” His face was burning red, he hated to talk about his videos with them, but they needed a reality check. He was pretty sure they never watched the videos, so they had no idea how bad the situation was.

“Good thing you’re not looking for Prince Charming, then, Cinderella.” She rolled her eyes. “You need a man who understands that sex is just sex, it doesn’t matter how many people you slept with, or if it was filmed or not. Besides, it was just a fucking job, like any other, people use their bodies to work. Writers use their hands, waiters use their legs, you used your ass, so-fucking-what?” MJ argued and she genuinely seemed to believe her own words, which made Peter laugh a little and feel relieved that his friend didn’t think badly of him. That made one of them.

The thing was, it was a beautiful speech, big words, great ideas, but none of it meant anything because it wasn’t real. He believed MJ thought like that, but most people didn’t. Most people would look at him differently knowing he used to do porn and knowing that he still did solo stuff on Just4Fans. They would think it was fine to fantasize about him, it was fine to jerk off to him, maybe it would even be fine to have sex with him casually, but have a serious relationship with him? Probably not.

He must have been distracted for a while and jumped up a little when he felt Ned’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dude. Not everyone is that narrow-minded, you know. At the end of the day, it’s just porn. A lot of people do it, even more people watch it, it’s not that big of a deal.” Ned shrugged and Peter looked at him a little surprised. He didn’t look freaked out at all by what he said earlier, which – he didn’t think he would be rude or anything, he just didn’t expect him to be so cool about it.

He smiled at him and nodded.

Peter spent the rest of the day at their place and gradually started feeling a little more like himself, a little calmer. His head hurt from such a rough morning, but having his friends by his side helped a lot. They had pizza for lunch and binge watched a sitcom for seven hours straight, which helped keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay. Well, mostly.

When he got home that night, he picked up his phone that was still lying on the floor. The screen was cracked, but at least it was still working. He quickly blocked Beck’s Instagram and his new number before he could think twice about it, and only then did he notice there was a message from Tony waiting for him, from a few hours earlier.

“Hey, gorgeous. How’s your day? I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Can’t wait to see you.”

For some weird reason, reading that message soothed him. It should have freaked him out, sent him over the edge again, but it didn’t. He had forgotten all about the fact that he agreed to meet Tony, but he was glad he did. He felt exhausted from all the emotions he had to deal with all day long and he thought he didn’t want to do anything but sleep it off, but talking to Tony sounded like an even better idea somehow.

“Not so good, I’m a little tired, but I’ll survive. How was yours, daddy?”

He wasn’t surprised when he got an answer right away.

“I’m sorry to hear that, kitten. I’d give you a foot rub if I was there, would that help?” Peter couldn’t help but smile at that message, which was a little shocking to him, he thought he had lost the ability to do that hours ago.

“That would help a lot, daddy.” He sighed, rolling onto his side, burying himself under the covers. “I wish you were here.” He didn’t expect to mean it so much, not when he was talking to a virtual stranger, but Tony had such a weird effect on him when they talked. Peter felt like he knew him, like they were intimate, like he was safe. And none of that made any sense, but he couldn’t help it.

“I wish I were there, too. I’d take good care of you.” Fuck, and he kept saying those things. Those beautiful things that made his stomach turn and his head hurt and his heart go wild. He was so fucked. “Dinner’s still up? Does Thursday night work for you?”

“Thursday works fine. I’m just a little nervous.” He curled on his side, looking closely at the cracked screen. Immediately, Tony started typing an answer.

“Please don’t be, sweetheart, I promise you’ll have a good time. We’ll have a nice meal, some fine wine, a good talk. What’s not to like?” That was exactly what Peter thought the previous night, and it had made perfect sense in his head. When he woke up, though, it didn’t sound reasonable at all. And now there he was, hypnotized again by Tony’s charm.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say or if it would be weird.

“Then, please, don’t worry. You can leave at any second if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“Okay.” He replied, worrying his bottom lip, working up the nerve to say what was on his mind. “Look, you know I’m not, like… a prostitute, right? Nor an escort. I just post dirty pictures online, which might be misleading, but I’m not a sex worker. I hope you know that.” There, he said it. He held his breath as he waited for Tony’s answer, who kept typing for what felt like ages.

“To be completely honest, no, I was not sure, and I didn’t want to offend you by asking, but this changes nothing. I didn’t ask to meet you for that, I hope you know. I just really need to see you in person. I like talking to you here, but I’d love to hear your voice, see your smile, make you laugh. I promise I have no ulterior motives.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Peter joked lightly, because it seemed like Tony always knew what to say to wrap him around his little finger.

“I am, baby, I promise. You’ll see.”

He was pretty sure he had heard similar promises before, beautiful words without any meaning. Still, for some reason, it wasn’t hard to believe him.

-x-

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud

[buckyownsmylife]

between us - chapter iv

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

In the days that passed, I started to become more and more like myself again. I laughed more frequently, I felt more energetic, and it wasn’t long before Aaron decided I could go back to work. 

Seeing Spencer again was nice, but it was undoubtedly weird to try to pretend nothing different was going on between Hotch and I. I mean, I felt like the team had a solid idea of what was happening between us, especially from how firm he was about taking me to his house when I broke down on the jet, but nothing was confirmed yet and I didn’t want it to. It was nice to have something special blossoming and it felt like it was still so intimate and pure, I didn’t want to learn other people’s views about it.

And yet, as I felt myself climb higher and higher from the well I was buried before, I knew it was only a matter of time until I faltered and fell down a few steps. Recovery was something I was used to by now, so relapse was a fact and I was prepared for it. It just didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared or devastated when the itch to hurt myself resurfaced again. 

It happened while we were away on my first case since returning to the BAU. I was being aloof and I knew it, but I insisted that I was okay enough to go out on the field. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do this.

Boy, was I wrong.

Despite the fact that my distracted manner ended up putting Spencer’s life in danger, everything turned out okay and the unsub was caught. However, as we got stuck in our hotel for the night, since the jet wouldn’t be able to fly us back until the morning, all I could think about was how badly I had screwed up.

And the worst part was that no one shouted or even appeared to be angry at me. They were making sure to keep their true feelings hidden behind a barrier of fake understanding, so I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be, but the absence of an outlet only made it worse.

I could feel the voices rising again. Mocking me. Reminding me of how I couldn’t do anything right. How everyone probably hated me right now. I was spiraling, and quickly. The itch to scratch myself had already appeared and it was only a matter of time until my nails were bloodied.

But then, a knock resonated through the empty bedroom.

“Are you ok?” The sight of Aaron with those impenetrable eyes was enough to start to calm the waves of self-loathing, but I was still on edge. In all truth, I could barely speak, the embarrassment I felt for my own actions today still coursing through me.

“I’m still waiting for you to start screaming at me,” I admitted in a tiny voice, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. A good part of me was hoping for it, so I was prepared for any demonstration of anger that he could throw my way. “I feel like I should be in trouble.”

“That’s never going to happen.” He stepped into the room, hugging me to him as he closed the door behind us. We stayed like that for a while, him tightly holding me to his body as we slowly swayed in the same place. At least it forced my own hands to stay far away from my body.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” It escaped before I could realise I was even thinking about it. Aaron froze in his spot before carefully pulling away from me, his hands holding my head to look deep into my eyes. I felt myself melting despite my current state. He really did have beautiful eyes.

“What do you mean?” Sighing, I pushed him away gently before sitting down on the mattress, running a hand through my face. My mind was all over the place, making it difficult to focus on finding the right words to describe what I was going through at that moment.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” The tears started rolling then. It all became too much. My failure at work, the fact that I was letting him down, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt lost, and soon enough, that asphyxiating weight settled over my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.

“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Through the gaps between my fingers, I could see that he had knelt in front of me even before he reached for my hands, holding them so I couldn’t use them to hide anymore.

“I hate myself for what I did today, Aaron. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be in the BAU. God, what if something had happened to Spencer today? I… I have to cut myself, please let me get it out.” I tried to pull my hands from him, my need to scratch myself resurfacing even stronger again, but he held them tightly in his grip, stopping me from doing so.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

As I held onto her hands, I pulled her so she’d look at me again. “Sweetheart, please… Is there anything I could do?” It was so difficult to see the woman I loved like this, reduced to a crying mess, and not being able to help her. My heart physically ached as I held her against my chest, caressing her head in a feeble attempt to calm her down.

“Punish me, Aaron. Yell at me, say you hate me and that I don’t deserve you. Tell me you’re going to kick me out of the team.” Her broken sobs were taking away pieces of my heart little by little. 

“I can’t do that, darling. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be the truth. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart, you made an honest mistake and everyone is entitled to that. I *love you. I could never hate you for something so silly and if anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. And our team needs you, Y/N. We weren’t complete until you arrived.” 

Somehow, those didn’t seem like the right words to say. She literally started to tremble in my arms, a scream of agony leaving her lips. “Darling, tell me what I can do to help you, please. I want to help you.” She tried to free her arms to scratch her skin again, but I managed to hold her hands just in time. Suddenly, an idea struck me. An out-of-place reminder of a conversation held in different times, over a bottle of wine. “Alright, you want to be punished, get up.”

My voice hit the same tone it usually did when we were in the bullpen and I needed the team’s attention, so I quickly got hers. She immediately obeyed me, standing up to stare down at me as I remained seated at the edge of her bed. “I want you over my lap, right now.”

If there was any hesitation on my part about what I was doing, it went out of the window the second she threw herself over my legs. I stopped for a second, pondering over what I was about to do. I had never been one for physical punishment on Jack, since I had personal experience on how scarring that experience could be, but I could recognize this was of an entirely different nature. And despite my inexperience with this sort of sexual relationship before, the tightness in my pants warned me that at least a part of me was satisfied with it.

I ran my fingers through Y/N’s hair, appreciating her tiny shiver, a show of desire instead of pain, until I decided it was time to get on with it. Raising my hand in the air, I allowed it to fall over her backside, only strong enough so she could feel it. Y/N’s hands flew to my thigh, holding herself there so she’d be able to take it and I did it again, with more or less the same impact.

“Harder,” came her plea, and I hesitated only for a bit before obeying her request. Her voice hadn’t trembled for the first time in the evening and hearing it resemble her everyday assertiveness didn’t allow me any space to second guess our activities.

My next spank was undoubtedly harder than the last one, and I expected any sort of reaction from my girlfriend, except the broken moan she released after my hand fell over the right cheek of her ass.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t have it in me to even feel embarrassed about my instinctive reactions, especially since Aaron was giving me exactly what I needed. I didn’t know how he knew, I couldn’t think in the state I was in, but it had been too long since I had found myself in this type of relationship and I had forgotten how it provided me with exactly what I needed.

“Y-yes!” I couldn’t stop the shout that escaped my throat as he continued to slowly give me harder slaps. Although it was precisely what I had asked for, it still didn’t manage to give me the same effect I would have gotten from feeling it against my skin. That’s what made me suddenly scramble up to look him in the eye again.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He looked so concerned, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at me. I felt myself smiling despite the mess in my mind, just suddenly overcome with gratitude for having such an amazing creature worrying about me.

“Not at all. This is exactly what I need, I don’t know how you knew it.” I held his face between my hands, softly running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Would you… Would you do something else for me?”

His eyes searched mine quickly before nodding. “Anything.” I had to smile at his devoted tone, so I leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead before straightening up again and pulling my dress off my body.

His eyes devoured me whole, but he didn’t open his mouth to protest at seeing me only in my underwear again. I think he knew I respected his desire to wait until I was in better condition to have sex, so he must have had a pretty good idea of what I wanted.

With that in mind, I assumed my position over his lap again, enjoying the feeling of his pants against my practically naked body before calling out to him, “More, please.” He hesitated for a bit. I was about to get up and ask him to forget about this, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, when suddenly, his hand collided with my backside.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice sounded dark, and I felt a shiver run through my body as I nodded to his words. “Not good enough, little girl.” His hands pulled on my hair and I whimpered from the surprise and the pleasurable pain. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”

A wave of hotness flushed down my body and I could feel my panties getting wet from his words. Never, in a million years, did I expect to be in this position, over my boss’s lap, with Aaron practically talking dirty with such an erotic voice. 

“I-I need this,” I finally whimpered, before shifting over his body to adjust my weight, in the hopes of getting some friction between my legs. I hoped I had been discreet, but when I felt my boyfriend’s fingers lightly grazing over my panties on the precise spot I knew would be soaked in a few seconds, I knew I had been caught.

“I can see that.” It was almost funny to hear the smugness in Aaron’s tone, but I couldn’t laugh at that moment. Not when he was pressing the lace of my panties against the emptiness that was throbbing with need, effectively ruining the tissue as it became attached to my pussy lips. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I wholeheartedly admitted, trying to force myself not to thrust back into his fingers.

“Hmm…” I could practically *hear his desire, and I thought back on how he had stopped himself from going further with me because he didn’t want to take advantage of me in this state. But it couldn’t really be considered taking advantage if it would help the person in need, right?

“Do you know what would help me even better?” I managed to ask, knowing I had picked up his interest by the way he softly caressed my backside.

“What would that be, little girl?” The nickname ignited every single nerve end on my body, and I had to bite back a moan as he unexpectedly slapped my ass again.

“Y-you, daddy.” I *felt his cock jump up at my own nickname for him and that awarded me another slap, harder than the last one.

“And how do you want your daddy, sweetheart?” My attention had completely abandoned his words as I felt his fingers brush up against me again, slowly pushing the fabric of my underwear aside and caressing my wetness in direct contact for the first time. But then another slap echoed around the room and I gasped, bucking into the fingers that were only barely penetrating me. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Inside of me, daddy.” A sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before my panties were being forcibly pushed down to my ankles.

“What won’t daddy do for you, little girl?” He asked just before pushing a single long finger inside of me. I almost cried from how amazing it felt after not being touched for so long, but then a thumb was playing with my tiny pearl and a full-on sob escaped me.

“Please, don’t stop, please!” I begged, pulling on the arm that wasn’t otherwise occupied with me, worried that he’d think he had hurt me. However, the response I got was a soft caress on my head in an attempt to calm me down when he managed to release his arm from my grasp.

“I won’t stop, sweet girl. Relax against your daddy and let him take care of you.” The words were like a balm to the mental cuts I had performed on myself, and my body instantly fell slack against his lap. 

“There you go. *Such a good, little girl.” Each word from his last sentence was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his finger that led me to start moaning - rather loudly, I supposed - like the trembling mess that I was. Suddenly, my underwear was being taken away from me and pressed against my lips. “Open up, princess.” I eagerly obeyed, desperate to continue receiving his touches, which he immediately resumed with a particular tug on my hair.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“There you go. Can’t have anyone interrupting us now, can we, sweetheart?” It should feel weird how her broken sobs and moans made me grin from ear to ear, but I was too intoxicated by the power I felt to analyze the situation right now. I had wished for a way to help her. Now I had it. It was clear that this was what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her.

“You know, I’ve never done this before…” I started, carefully massaging her head with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with her pussy. “I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.” I pulled on Y/N’s hair again, just in time to watch as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm finally catching up to her after I quickened the motions from my fingers. 

“So beautiful,” I absentmindedly whispered as I waited for her to come back to me, not stopping any of my movements, but simply slowing them down. At last, with one final shiver, her body fell limp on my lap and I took my fingers from her with a chuckle at the displeased whine she let out at the emptiness. 

I pulled her up so she would be seated on my lap now, her face carefully enveloped by my hands as I searched her eyes after pulling out her panties from her mouth. “How are you feeling, my love?” It was impossible not to be affected by the way she simply melted against me.

“Better. I’m so much better, Aaron, thank you so much.” She hid her face on the crook of my neck and I felt warm and intoxicated at the same time. I wanted to cuddle her and protect her for the rest of her life, but I also wanted to be tightly snuggled inside of her like nothing else on the planet. The dichotomy of this woman was simply too much.

“You’re welcome, my love.” I continued caressing her hair while hugging her close to me, paying no attention to the fact that she was most likely ruining my pants. After a while, she pushed away from my chest to look me in the eyes again.

“What about you, honey?” I knew what she meant. But despite how aroused I felt, I knew it still wasn’t the right moment, so that’s why I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss, before picking her up and softly laying her on the bed. 

“I’m already okay, darling. Don’t you worry about me.” Despite knowing she understood where I was coming from, she couldn’t help but pout at me, which made me chuckle. “Soon, alright?” I lightly traced her bottom lip with my thumb as she nodded solemnly at me. “Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here with you?”

The way her eyes lit up made me feel like the most special man in the world. “Would you do that?” It hurt me that she’d even doubt, for a second, what I would do for her, especially since it was something that I would also benefit from.

“Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you. I won’t be here when you wake up, because we don’t want the team to notice anything, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” She watched me with sleepy eyes as I carefully took off my clothes, putting them over the chair so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and then climbed up on the bed next to her, pulling her to me so she’d fall asleep listening to my heartbeat dance for her.

She’d be alright. I’d make sure of it.

[brucewayneargento-moved]

To All My Fathers (Chapter 1)

Summary: Damian Wayne, a fourteen year old with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, goes onto a road trip with the four men who shaped him as a person before his bone marrow transplant.

Fic also avaliable on FF.net

Damian had definitely decided he would not wear a fanny pack.

It didn't matter that it was the most convenient and comfortable way to take a chemo pump iv from place to place. He'll much rather attract attention with a backpack connected to a pump than to regress back to the eighties in the most horrendous fashion. Sure he might pick up unwanted attention from strangers but A) He could always stare at them back; B) He was past the time to care and C) He already didn't have eyebrows so that was kind of a moot point.

The boy was currently seated at the med bed of the 666 room. (Drake had made several jokes about it, which Damian didn't mind and in fact encouraged, because with his diagnosis came a morbid sense of humor and he was also glad at least one person still treated him like a human being). He was practicing violin while he could still hold it and also enjoying the fact that he was wearing actual comfortable clothes and not a paper robe that made his autism completely and utterly fucking lose it.

Some kids from the other rooms had come to see him perform and Damian loved to have an audience. Because he had an ego, not as much and not as evil as people usually thought, but still. Most of them were children younger than ten who just needed some entertainment that wasn't a superhero.

"This was Ode To Joy by Bethoveen," Damian explained. The three children around him applauded. When they stopped he could still hear hands clapping, he looked up and his eyes met his father's.

Bruce came closer to him and the kids left after being called by a nurse. Boy and man looked at each other for a few seconds.

"Are you ready?" Bruce finally asked

Damian might have sounded insane if he said it outloud, but his father and Jon were very similar.

The blue eyes, the black hair and the fact that they both cried before or after entering a room with Damian in it, bonus points if he was being stabbed with a needle right at that moment, then you could see their eyes getting crystalized almost in slow motion.

And it's not like Damian was annoyed by their emotions as one might have thought, it was more of a...sting, (man being stabbed with a needle on a daily basis was really taking a toll on him, wasn't it?) like, something that hurt but it wasn't enough for him to do anything about it more than to grit his teeth and power through it.

Numbness was apparently a common thing among patients. But Damian thought of himself as many stuff, but common wasn't one of them

And perhaps his ego was the only thing keeping him optimistic, perhaps thinking that he was too special to die alone in a hospital room was what made him stronger against the whole GvHD thing.

Leslie had told him that he was lucky to find a donor that was relatively near, in Kansas nonetheless, home of Superman and. So now he had just to keep up with the program: L-asparaginase,dexamethasone and vincristine several times a day and wait.

Or at least that was the original plan.

"Yes." he finally answered, standing up.

When all you receive in your life is gaslighting, you don't even notice the medical gaslighting.

Maybe it was the whole "being indoctrinated since birth by an ecoterrorist death cult" thing but his ability to exercise his free will hadn't been particularly developed.

The bruises? Vigilante stuff. The fever? Probably the flu. Weight loss? Maybe he had gotten a growth spurt that just made him seem thinner…He had to throw up blood to even be admitted into a hospital.

The Wayne-Head name allowed him the finest care probably ever known to man. "Nepotism: where you can die comfortably" that was an actual thing he had said while high on sedatives. He could only imagine his mother's face upon hearing it.

When he woke up both his parents were there. Damian could immediately tell something was wrong. His father was crying and his mother was stoic.

"Oh, ok, so I'm dying" He said, grabbing their attention. Both Talia and Bruce turn to look at him. Damian tried to sit and noticed his arm was cranked to an IV. "Oh, I'm actually dying."

"Do not speak like that." His mother warned him with a threatening voice. Bruce kept quiet but still with a face wet with tears.

Next to them there was a third person. She was an older woman with gray hair and glasses. Doctor Thompkins, his father's godmother. She went over to the medbed and sat on the foot. Damian crossed his arms. She was a smart woman but had the annoying habit of treating him like a perpetual child. Probably the closest thing he had to an actual grandmother.

"Damian," she fixed her glasses and looked at the clipboard she was holding. "Your blood count is in the 200.000 white cells."

Damian's eyes slightly widened, which covertly hid how much of a gut punch he just received.

"I can't have leukemia," he simply stated. There was a slight pained sound coming from his father's mouth which made Damian look him in the eye…that's how he knew it was true.

He started to grin which turned into a giggle which turned into a laugh.

Bruce and Talia looked at him with worry.

"Denial is very common," Leslie stated, trying to remain calm and also sooth Damian up. The teen kept laughing and then stopped to talk.

He had tears in his eyes. "I mean... so much for being an eugenics frankenstein monster, I've failed at even that."

The rest of that afternoon was a blur for him. Except for the being stabbed with needles on his spine parts, that one he remembered very well. Since he had such a high tolerance for pain, the fact that he was casually hurt was news to him.

Of course Dick had been the first one to enter the room.

Damian had hoped that he wasn't but after all it made sense that he did, he was his Robin. He could imagine him punching a wall and screaming when he heard the news. That mental image didn't upset him at all, clearly.

Damian was pretending to watch TV where his oldest brother entered the scene. He had prepared what he was going to say. How he was okay and how he was too stubborn to die anyways. But all of that went to hell when Dick entered the room and immediately ran up to hug him.

All of the walls he had been building up until now feel down hard. Damian just had to press his head against Dick's shoulder for the tears to start running.

"I want a falafel."

They were in the hospital room after a particularly hard session of chemo. His brother was on a chair in front of him reading a book and not looking at him.

"You just threw up on my shoe," he reminded Damian.

"I'm here for a good time, not a long time"

Dick rolled his eyes, now accustomed to the fact that his sibling had developed a morbid sense of humor because of his condition. Right at that moment the door opened and Doctor Thompkins entered the room.

"How are we?" She asked.

"Great." Both responded almost robotically. Damian gagged.

"I wanted to talk to you, Dick, about the bone marrow transplant."

"Why not talk to me?" Damian intervened. "I'm the one whose blood isn't working."

"Because you're still a child," Dick answered as a matter of fact. And despite everything he was glad his older brother at least now had the courtesy of treating him like he had always done. "What's the prognosis, doc?"

"We're considering the umbilical cord transfusion." Leslie explained. "But you will have to ask my godson first.

"Why would he need to...wait...Selina's pregnant?!" Damian asked but then he threw up again. "That wasn't meant to signify my feelings on the matter."

Leslie continued. "But that will still take a few months and...I'm afraid we don't have that much time."

Damian pretended to gag and looked down at the bucket, all to avoid looking at Dick's face.

"But the good news is that we found a match."

Damian hadn't even had time to think about that sentence before he blurted it out, but now it was there, out in the open. For everyone to hear.

"I want to have children."

Everyone being an hyperbole since Alfred was the one who was actually there. His father had to go to patrol so the butler had the night shift to take care of Damian while at the hospital to which the boy was appreciative of. Except for this moment when he was mentally slapping himself for letting on too much. Side effects of being raised to be a killing machine.

"I...did not know that." Alfred admitted. Up to twelve seconds ago he had been standing up listing the symptoms of chemo at Damian's request since he didn't trust Leslie to do it without sugarcoating it and his father might burst into tears in an attempt to do so. Damian had been listening attentively before Alfred mentioned that it was possible that he might wind up being infertile.

The boy simply turned around to the other side of the bed and sighed as tears left his eyes.

Dear Damian

I could not be more content that you are receiving the transplant that you so much need. I wish I could accompany you on the journey to Kansas, but sadly Lady Talia needs me to look out after Bialya...I wish you nothing but a rapid recovery. I implore you to remember that you are not alone in this, to remember that there is a plethora of people that adore you with all of their souls and that you will always have their help. Even when you do not want it.

Best Wishes

Ravi.

Damian looked at Alfred who glanced at him for a nanosecond in the mirror of the car. He knew he was the most active ally he had in this game. Since he not only advocated to his father for this trip to be possible but he also was the only person to always show his compassion in spite of if he actually deserved it or not. Bruce was next to him while Richard sat next to Damian and assesed his condition.

They stayed in comfortable silence in the car with only the sound of "dad music" on the radio for background noise. Damian allowed himself to close his eyes and to feel the soothing bounce of the car against the pavement on his skin...

They stopped suddenly after a while and Damian opened his eyes, he frowned in confusion as Alfred parked the car in front of the airport.

"What are we doing here?" he asked curiously.

Alfred turned around to look at him. "Your father , Master Richard and I thought It'll be a good idea to fly in a friend of yours."

Damian's frown deepened. "A friend?"

Suddenly a tap was heard on the window. They both turned around to look at the front window. It was being slightly knocked on it by a man with a white cane and a bald head who was smiling at them.

"Ravi?" Damian rubbed his eyes and felt them watering up.

Damian knew that he could never make up to Ravi for being responsible for losing his vision. And he also knew that in spite of that the man would still love him unconditionally.

That could be proven easily by the letters that he had written to him when he found out about his diagnosis…

All his father figures were here, suddenly he felt an internal strength he hadn't felt in a while.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 193

193 When Lance fell asleep, their roles had reversed. Keith calling Shiro to check in, after overhearing how they hadn’t really talked to anyone. The conversation with his brother wasn’t that long due to him not wanting to leave Lance. Knowing Krolia, whatever advice she’d given him was probably shit, though, as Lance had said, his mother was probably the closest person he could turn to advice for this. Coran may have had a pretty interesting past, but as far as Keith knew, he’d never been on the end of being pregnant. Pidge... wasn’t exactly maternal, and Allura... was Allura. She’d make a good mother... in her own way. Maybe this trip would have been better if they’d invited the others? Not so much Rieva and Matt, but Pidge and Hunk. “Keith?”Hearing Lance call his name, he forced himself out the bathroom. It was now closer to dusk than to dawn. Lance had needed time to cry out his frustrations“Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”“Better... thirsty... and sorry”Sorry because they hadn’t been to see his dad yet... Keith was slightly annoyed by that fact, but not mad. Lance hadn’t asked for his ego to start being a pain in the arse, and with all the stress he’d been putting himself under, he really needed the rest“Do you want some blood?”“We didn’t do my injection”Fuck. He hadn’t thought of that“Do you want to go the bathroom, and I’ll get it organised?”“Okay” It felt like nothing now to draw a bit of blood for Lance’s injections. The fear of the curse had lessened. Lance would have never tried to feed off Matt or Rieva, even in a desperate situation. But whether it be luck, or Lance’s own curse, it seemed to kill the werewolf curse before it could turn their twins. Maybe Lance had a point about some of their more careless activities? They shouldn’t be able to stand being in the same room, they both shared moments with their egos that really hurt, but he hadn’t been thinking of his own safety since turning. Just the safety of everyone they called family. Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sat beside him on their bed. Resting his against Keith’s shoulder, he sighed softly “Okay... inject away”The injection always only took a moment. In, inject, out, then Lance would rub at the healing mark. His boyfriend sighing again, overthinking things“You needed to let it out”“I know. I feel like I’ve brought the whole mood down and I hate it. You must be starving”Yep. He was. His metabolism was something crazy. The amount of food he consumed was frankly scary“I’m okay. Here, have some blood and we can think about getting something to eat”“I thought I had this planned. You know? We’d have breakfast, than go see your dad. Clean his grave up. Talk to him... A mental breakdown wasn’t scheduled”“Are they ever? Did mum help?”“She’s no Mami when it comes to advice. She said to chuck my fear out the window”Keith snorted“Right. Because it’s totally that easy. Was she okay?” They didn’t know if she was coming or not. Not with her work schedule. Keith kind of hoped she would, yet she’d made indications of it. Like, would he even recognise his father’s grave? And what did he say? “Yeah. She was her usual self. I called her for advice, but I know she was disappointed it wasn’t you”“Nah. She loves you. I think she even likes you better than me”“She’s your mum. She loves you. She’s pretty worried how this is affecting you. I could tell”“I’m okay... kind of. I’m getting there. Umm... Nothing time with my beautiful boyfriend won’t fix” Lance groaned at him“Babe, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay. I’m hardly beautiful... I’m like... the very definition of a wreck right now”“You’ll be okay. Here, wrist or um... neck?”“Wrist... sorry... it’s just easier in this position”“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry”He’d noticed something. Lance only liked to feed on his neck when they were making out or in the heat of things. His fingers when Lance was trying to be quite mid do“I am. I love you so much. So so much. I neglected your safety... and you’re still being... so good to me”“Idiot. I love you. Your hunger won’t last forever. I should have gotten some blood into while you slept... it’s bad to let your... um... levels drop”“I’ll be okay. They’re still okay... I think one of them tried to break my rib when I was in the bathroom” Keith loved hearing the twins were moving. Even when it was uncomfortable for Lance, he felt like he was hearing cute stories he wouldn’t be able to forget. He didn’t think he had the patience to be pregnant... which only made him prouder of strength Lance showed“They take after you. All silent and deadly”“Babe, I’m not a fart”Keith hadn’t thought of that, chuckling as he shook his head“I know. You smell awful in a good way. Not like my lactose farts”“Eh. They’re part of you. A couple of wads of tissue up my nose and you’d never tell”“I’ll remember that for next time. Here, eat something. Don’t be afraid if you need a little more” That was something else Keith noticed. Lance took care with the amount of blood he took from him, but the volume seemed like it would be a lot for a human. Very rarely he felt light headed, questioning if he’d be conscious if he was still human. He’d never tell Lance. He’d freak out immediately, plus fluids and a good meal had him back in shape in no time. Lance moaned as he bit into Keith’s wrist, reminding him he’d have to make more of an effort. Maybe it’d be for the best if he ran an IV line for Lance tonight, just to get his hunger knocked on the head completely. Pulling off, Lance lapped at the trails of bloodied spit left on Keith’s arm. The wounds starting to heal instantly“Better?”Catching a few small beads pushed out by the healing wound, Lance hummed “Mmm... I know this isn’t comfortable for you”It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. It stroked his pride to provide for their boyfriend the one thing he needed above all else“I’m fine, babe. As long as you’ve had enough”“Yeah... I’m good. I’m still sorry. I think I’ve been taking more and more of late”“Nah, it’s fine. But I was thinking we should probably set you up with an IV later, seeing how little you ate today. You need to keep your fluids up”“But keeping my fluids out means I have to pee”Whining at him, Lance was too cute“I love you and your walnut sized bladder anyway”“I think it’s more like a grape at this stage. I’m sorry my ego chuckled a wobbly... and that we spent most of today in bed”“There’s nothing more that I love, than spending the day in bed with you”“Pervert. I’m serious though. I don’t want to be scared like that. I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you. All of it”“You might not like all of it”“I don’t know. I think we both know that I’m like crazy stupid in love with you and all those little things that drive me crazy only make me love you more” Keith groaned softly. He’d become weak to Lance. Last real story he had left to share with his boyfriend was the night Shiro saved his arse. Lance knew most of it. Keith couldn’t remember what he’d told him, nor was he sure why he’d never told him all of it. Being on the streets had taken a toll, and the thought of a warm bed and decent shower left him going with people he already knew were no good for him. They’d offered him a good time when he’d been so completely done with fighting to be alive“Alright. How about we go get dinner and figure things out from there”“Mmmm... sounds good to me. Let me change, then we’ll go”“I probably need to freshen up too”“I hate to say it but we both kind of stink” From sweat. Under the blankets left them both sweating in their sleeps. Lance smelt deader than ever, with Keith not far off. Personally he didn’t mind stinking of Lance, but Lance felt like he needed to do more to protect Keith with things like being careful with his scent“Want to take first shower while I look for somewhere good to eat?”“Sounds like a plan... I... don’t know if I’ll freak out again”“It’s okay. If you do, we can totally go. I know we’re here to see my dad, but your safety and comfort comes first. I don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me”“I know. I won’t take too long”“Don’t go rushing. The last thing we need is for you to slip. That sounded harsher than what I meant”Lance shook his head at him“It’s okay, we both know I’m a klutz. I’ll be careful. We’ve come this far. I’m not about to risk them”“I’m worried about you, too. I don’t want you being hurt”“I’ll be fine... Let me freshen up, then you can take me out for dinner” Lance kissed Keith’s wrist where he’d fed. Keith couldn’t believe the passage of time since meeting Lance had moved so fast. It must have been a year now, or very close to a year. This time last year, he’d have thought himself turned and cursed with a single bite. The Blades really did teach some total bullshit when he stopped to consider all of things he hadn’t thought of before. He’d been such a dumb arse. Luckily he had Lance to set him straight... or not so straight... though he wasn’t sure what he was as it was Lance he loved and not only his physical body. Realising how easily he could fall into an internal debate over all of that, he gave a shake of his head. Lance said he’d let him take him to dinner, so that’s what he was going to do. *Holding Keith’s hand, the freshness of the night felt nice against Lance’s skin. Keith either hadn’t bothered looking up somewhere else to eat, or he’d been trying to please Lance, resulting in dinner at the same restaurant they’d had breakfast at. This time Lance figured out what was wrong with the place. As they’d finished dinner, the waitress had come to collect to their plates, on her arm balanced by the nozzle was a bottle of orange scented surface spray. Being a public restaurant, smells of all sorts bombarded his senses from the moment they walked. With so many scents, he hadn’t consciously noticed the orange surface spray. The fact that Sendak still held such a hold over him left Lance unable to enjoy his meal. The atmosphere of the restaurant was good, Pidge would have loved the idea of sneakily signing them up for the weekend Karaoke competition, then abusing everyone heckling her over bad singing... He missed those days. He missed not being pregnant and not fearing his scent. Heck, he missed ghost hunting. He missed watching Pidge get super enthused as Hunk prayed for it all to be over. The restaurant was the kind of place he could see himself having a few quite drinks had the place been in Garrison. The kind of place that Sal’s had been to them before he’d had to hideaway his changing body. The Lord knew he was looking forward the day they could all go out again. He was going to order the biggest, greasiest, slimiest, cheesiest pizza in existence. Maybe even have Sal get some cigarette ash in there for that true diner flavour... “Want to take a walk?”No. Maybe... He wanted to go home to bed... but he’d spent the day in the hotel room. Staring past Keith, the stars twinkled over the town as if trying to say that nothing bad could ever happen here, which was a bold faced lie if ever there was one. Keith drew strength from the moon, and both of them had eye sight sharp enough to walk around in the dark safely enough... plus... it’d give them time to get the layout of the town down... His boyfriend seemed to be oblivious to internal wavering, Lance wondering if this was his way of easing into things he either wanted to tell, or easing into seeing his father... or even a chance to cover his arse when Shiro asked how much of the town they’d gone out and seen“Sure. There’s a park a few blocks down. I saw it on the town map”“You saw a town map?”“Did you really not look this place up at all? They have a similar lay out to Garrison, which makes sense in a way... they were both trade posts at some time, though I’ve got not idea what they could have pulled out of all the sand”“I didn’t even know that much. It’s like... all I remember is the shack... all of it feels like being on another planet”Lance slid his hand into Keith’s “It’s a good thing I’m here to keep you grounded. Don’t even think about packing your bags for another planet. You’re not leaving me behind”“I’m sure that if I ever got spirited away into space, you’d be right there with me”“Yep. Probably screaming my head off the whole time too”“I think I would be too. Let’s go, I’ll follow your lead”“Don’t you always?” Keith kissed his cheek. Lance blushing lightly as his boyfriend replied “yep”, followed by two more kisses on his cheek. Lance would follow Keith to the ends of the Earth, with Keith just as happy to follow him instead. Unless one of them made the decision, they’d be following each other around in circles for the rest of their lives... That didn’t actually sound too bad... Walking down to the park, the town had a nice vibe to it. Lance felt bad for whoever was in charge of cleaning the park’s rubbish bin after his dinner decided to make a reappearance before they’d reached the toilets towards the middle of the park. Cleaning up, and using the facilities, the pair of them settled themselves down on the swings. It’d been months since he’d been on a swing set, in Cuba, yet it had to be longer for Keith. Dragging his feet in the sand to make a heart, he supposed they looked like a couple of kids up to no good. He’d seen enough memes that he knew adults missed swing sets, and he knew he definitely counted in their ranks. Pushing off lightly, the chain creaked under his weight. A memory of Veronica coming to mind from back when having a baby brother that was a vampire was something cool. He’d wanted to go higher and higher, the pegs of the swing set shaking, so Luis and Marco held it down as he swung as high as he could get. He’d been sure if he’d gotten a little higher he could have looped the chain around the top, but Papi had lost it at the four of them“You seem happy”“Mmm. I like swings”Letting the swing slow naturally, Lance grinned at his boyfriend mischievously. They had the whole playground to themselves “What about you? What’s your favourite piece of playground equipment?” Keith hummed. He’d been making a mound between his shoes, trying to keep the sand from slipping back down “I hate the monkey bars”“Oh? What’d they ever do to you?”“A shit kid at one of the families threw a rock at me because I could pull myself up to sit on top of them. It hit me in the head and I fell off backwards”“Wow. That kid sounds like a wanker”Keith nodded, expression semi serious “They were. I got in trouble for falling off”“That’s kind of what kids do though. They play and climb... it’s what kids are supposed to do”Keith sighed, before shaking his head“It doesn’t matter now. I can’t even remember their face, let alone why they through the rock”“They were probably jealous because you’re so much cooler than them. I bet you were a totally rad kid. I wish I’d known you then” Lance didn’t think about what he’d said. He felt like kicking himself as Keith mumbled “Right. The fucked up orphan no body wanted was a “rad kid””“Hey. No. No. That is not on you. Not at all. Adults are supposed to be there and be the strong ones. Not kids. I sincerely wish I could lord over every single person who hurt you, how fucking amazing you are”Keith gave a scoff of disbelief. Lance saddened that his boyfriend’s anxiety had gotten to him this badly. Climbing off his swing, the vampire wrinkled his nose at the sand pouring into his shoes as he moved to stand behind Keith“What are you doing?”“I’m going to push you?” Wasn’t that obvious? He’d waddled his pregnant arse all the way behind Keith. The only logical conclusion was he was going to push him on the swing“You don’t have to”“Maybe I want to? Maybe I want to play in the park because there’s no one else around. No bad scents. No blood. No spirits. No yucky feelings other than the sand under my socks...”“It is a nice park”“Right? Now, hold on” Pushing Keith on the swing, Keith gradually loosened up, even starting to laugh as Lance backed off and watched“You can do it, babe!”“I’m totally going to jump off, you know that, right?”“It’s like an unwritten law of swinging, seeing how far you can jump”“I think I have an advantage...”“Doesn’t matter. I’m totally challenging you to a swing off once these two are born”“That’s not fair, you’ve got wings”Lance huffed. They had a mind of their own, much like the rest of his body “Which are mostly useless. I can’t even fly around as a bat”“That’s fine. Ready?”“Go for it!” Keith jumped a little too soon, half faceplanting in the sand. With the way he landed, Lance rushed to his side to find his boyfriend laughing“Are you okay?”“I fucked that up”Kicking Keith lightly in the side with the toe of his shoe, his boyfriend rolled over, smiling like an idiot. Lance’s heart had stopped with the way Keith landed, now the idiot was smiling so happy he felt all warm inside “You had me worried!”“I guess I’m not that great at sticking the landing”“You weren’t that great at jumping. You went before the swing was at the right height!”“You make it sound like you’re training me for the Olympics” Channeling the best sports commentator voice he could, Lance’s voice wobbled slightly as he tried not to laugh at how funny he was“You don’t get at a ten-point-zero for your landing. Zero style. Very simplistic. Could this spell the end for Keith Kogane’s budding career before he even goes professional?”Keith laughed. A proper unguarded laugh. Lance feeling the luckiest man in the world to hear it “I’m being serious!”“Uh huh. Sure you are. You know, the stars are really pretty. I feel like I can see them way better than before”“That’s because all your senses increased. Werewolves and vampires are kind of night creatures”“I still don’t know how to turn into a wolf. I don’t know if it counts”“It totally does... Now, are you getting up? Or should I pick you up in the morning?”Keith patted the sand next to him“You could come down here”“Or you could come up here... I’m too pregnant to deal with sand”“Fair point. We have the whole park to ourselves... I don’t think I’ve ever really... just... you know...” That Keith hadn’t played on a playground saddened Lance. Even as an adult, playgrounds were still fun. With no one around to watch them, there was no point being responsible adults“You know, there’s a slide over there... and a flying fox...”“Babe...”Keith tried to dismiss the idea, Lance using “boyfriend” which proved very effective. Damn Pidge. She’d gone and put that back into his head at her birthday party“Come on, it’ll be fun. I mean, I probably can’t use the spinner, not unless you want to scramble the twins, but the slide never gets old”“Fine, but if we get in trouble, you’re taking the blame”Lance shrugged. They weren’t violating any laws that he knew of. They weren’t intoxicated. Nor were they committing property damage or trespassing“The lawyer in me tells me it’s going to be okay”“I’ll remember that when I get my one phone-call”“You better. Though it would be a conflict of interest to represent you, so let’s not get in trouble?” The did indeed get into trouble. Keith got wedged in the kids slide, and Lance was too tall for the flying fox, so that was disappointing. They were still messing around when the lights of a cruiser flashed red and blue, the two of them called over by a police officer who looked unable to catch them, even if they had been human. Swallowing down his fear, Lance took Keith by the hand, walking him over to the officer when Keith kept telling him they should run. Getting closer, the man clearly didn’t expect two fully grown adults to be playing in the park so late at night. “Officer, how are you tonight?”Putting on an air of responsibility, Lance felt he’d be the more convincing adult of the pair of them“I had a call about teenagers mucking around in the park. Want to tell me about it?”Keith snorted with laughter, Lance stepping on his foot to shut him up“That was us, sir. I’m sorry if we created a disturbance. We’re on holiday, you know, before the twins come, and wanted to have a little fun. I had no idea we we’re causing a disturbance” Keith tried to muffle his laughter, Lance mentally rolling his eyes at his boyfriend who was clearly upsetting the police officer. Huffily, the man asked“So I’m not going to find any of that junky paraphernalia you young people are into these days?”“No, sir. I know we might look young, but I’m 46 and my boyfriend here is 28. No drugs, or alcohol, sir”The man looked them up and down, Lance waited for something along the lines of “I wouldn’t lie to a police officer, if I was you”. Instead the man sighed“Look. You can’t be playing in the park at midnight. You’re obviously not locals. You staying at the hotel?”“Yes, sir. My boyfriend is a photographer, we’re travelling to work on his portfolio. Sorry. We wanted to have a little fun with no one around”“I’ll have you save that sort of fun for a more appropriate environment. Get in the back, I’ll give you both a ride back”Lance immediately shook his head“We’re both able to walk back...”“That wasn’t an invitation. We get a lot of blow ins for this damn Easter festival the town insists on having. The last thing I need is the pair of you thinking your entitled to cause trouble. Get in” Lance felt like a scolded school child as he did as he was told, Keith sliding in beside him, though his boyfriend still thought they should run. Clipping their belts in obediently, Lance bit his bottom lip. Maybe they’d gotten carried away? He didn’t think they were being too loud. All they’d been doing was acting like idiots. They hadn’t damaged any property... plus Keith had gotten on the spinner, which had been hilarious given how much strength he could put into a spin. His boyfriend had gotten off with shaky legs, tripped, fell in the grass and burst out laughing. Lance knew he should stay quiet, but this was a golden chance“Excuse me, have you been an officer here very long?”The man met his eyes before pulling away from the park curb“Long enough” Damn. He wasn’t giving him anything“Do you happen to know anything about the fire that took place here about 20 years ago?”Keith’s heart started racing harder. Yeah. He should have been considerate about Keith’s feelings, but this was like the perfect chance“Oh, I know about that fire alright. One dead. 250,000 dollars worth of damages. I don’t know why you’re bringing that up, but you’re best dropping it. A lot of people were hurt by that incident. Damn candle left unattended. The place went up faster than a whore’s knickers drop”“If one wanted to know about the fire, is there a local registrar office?” The office pressed the breaks suddenly, instead of gently stopping at the stop sign“Look. I’m sure you’re nice... whatever you are. But what happened that day is no laughing matter. We lost one of our own that day. It’s an ugly scar on the history of this town and I won’t have the pair of you treating it like a joke”Whelp. He’d gone and made him angry“I mean absolutely no disrespect. It’s such a horrible thing to have happened. When you saw you lost one of your own, I assume you mean an officer?” Resuming driving, the man sighed at him as if he was stupid, their eyes meeting again in the rear view mirror “No. Not an officer. One of our local fire fighters. They tried to stop the blazing jumping house, when the second floor came down. Horrible tragedy. We lost a fine man that day”“Did you know him?”“Aye, we all did. Bit of a loner. Kept to himself, especially after his missus skipped town. Heeee... had a boy from memory. Hard worker though. That boy... he was tiny thing of a kid. Still, he gave everything he could to that boy. He ended up vanishing, just like his mother. Couldn’t tell ya where she went. Up and vanished as suddenly as she appeared here. No idea how the pair of them met, and before we knew it, she was up the duff, then gone a couple of years later. Couldn’t handle the stresses of being a parent, if you ask me anything about it”“And all of this is public record?”“Bits and pieces. Look. I won’t tell you again, losing Joe hurt a lot of people here. He was a good man. Kind of man you never really knew what was thinking. But when he saw his boy, he’d light up like a goddamn Christmas tree. Loved that kid, he did. He was real torn up when his woman shot through, but never blamed his boy. We often used to wonder what happened to that kid, ah, but I suppose it’s one of those things you’d never know” The officer was letting his accent show. Keith seemed on the edge of tears“Say we didn’t want to drop it, is there anyone from around there that we can talk to about it”The man fixed him with a glare“People move on. Dredging that up again is only going to cause pain. If I hear you two are stirring up trouble because your curious over something that is none of your business, I will escort you out of town meself” That mean there were indeed people out there who’d been around at the time of the fire and may remember Keith, and his father... and that the council office should have record that’d help them place the pieces of that day together. The last few minutes of the drive was in silence. The officer having to squidge himself out the door in order to open the back door of the cruiser to let them out. The man really didn’t know what to make of Lance, he got it. He looked like a woman and sounded like a man. Some people were so damn backwards that they couldn’t accept change. Lance still opting to be polite, on the off chance they crossed paths again “Thank you for the ride. We’re sorry we caused you trouble”“Don’t let it happen again. There’s laws about these kinds of things. Consider yourselves both lucky and warned”“Yes, sir. Thank you” As the police cruiser left, Keith collapsed against him, sniffling as tears rolled down his face. His boyfriend wrapping his arms around him with a little too much force“Babe?”“He... loved me”With his arms pinned, Lance could only raise his hand enough to pat Keith’s arm “Yeah, babe. He did. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was okay to ask, but the opportunity to know something more was right in front of us”“He... he still went back in... he...”“He loved you. He loved you, and I know I’m not him. I could never know what he was thinking, but I think all he wanted to do was stop the fire before more people were hurt”“He left me”“Not by choice. You heard that guy. He loved you. He adored you. And he was so proud to be your dad. You... you were loved. You are loved”“Can we go back to the room?”Lance’s heart was breaking for his boyfriend. Sure, they’d learned a little and tomorrow Lance wanted to hit up the council to dig up whatever he could on Keith’s father’s past, but right now...“I was thinking the same thing. I want to hold you”“Please?”“Always, babe. Always and forever” ReplyForward

[butterflies-dragons]

Hi. You said in your Jon and women meta that Lyanna is a combination of both Sansa and Arya. Can you give her parallels with both girls?

Hello Anon,

Yes this past week I’ve said that Lyanna Stark was a mixture of the Stark Sisters. 

I also said that I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark:  

Now ¿How marrying the heir of the Iron Throne/King of the 7K is supposed to be an act of dubious loyalty?  Because GRRM has stated that in high nobility there is no marriage without the Lord Father of the bride’s blessing.  Furthermore, from the wedding the bride belongs to her husband’s house, that’s all the fuzz with the cloaking ceremony, going from the maiden’s cloak to your husband’s cloak.  You left your paternal house to belong with your husbands house.  Sansa’s loyalty was with her husband, and more important, Sansa’s love and loyalty was with her baby boy.  So, how choosing his baby over her paternal house could be seem as an act of dubious loyalty then?  And even if she wanted to come back to her paternal family, does she really get a chance without the risk of being captured, separated from her baby, accused of treason and executed, leaving her baby boy motherless?      

Oh I get it, there was an enmity between Starks and Lannisters.  So, Or Joffrey abducted Sansa? Or Sansa eloped to marry Joffrey?  How very Shakespearean of you George!  This is Romeo and Juliet all over again.    Or even better, this is Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark oll over again.  

Original Outline Sansa was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and mother of the heir to the Iron Throne.

It is implied by the fandom that this Sansa dies because the outline says that Jaime dethrones and kills Joffrey and “everyone ahead of him in the line of succession” (Sansa’s baby).  Well, Sansa was not in the line of succession, but it’s probable that Jaime had to kill her to get to her baby boy, which reminds me of Elia Martell & her babies’ tragic and devastating deaths.

And landing more on the subject, I said that: Arya and Sansa play different roles in Jon’s life: Sansa is the distant half sister, the archetype of  the princess in the tower, that he thinks he would never get.  While Arya is the closest sister, the comfortable presence of a girl with less feminine inclinations.  And both of them resemblance different aspects of Lyanna Stark.  While Arya got Lyanna’s spirit and physical features, Sansa Stark got the less known romantic nature of Lyanna, after all, Lyanna cried while listening Rhaegar playing the harp, eloped with him, bore him a son, found herself trapped in a tower, and unwillingly caused the death of her father and older brother.  Like a Lady in a sad and beautiful song.     

We can draw parallels between Lyanna and her two nieces, but there are also parallels shared by the three of these She-wolves of Winterfell.  Let’s see: 

LYANNA & ARYA

Appearance: 

“You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her." "Lyanna was beautiful," Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya. "She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Carrying a sword:

"Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. —AGOT - Arya II

The wolf-blood:

“Arya, you have a wildness in you, child. The wolf blood, my father would call it. Lyanna had a touch of it."—AGOT - Arya II

"She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience … at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up." —AGOT - Arya II

Punching annoying brothers & friends: 

Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout. "You be quiet, stupid," the girl said, tossing her own branch aside. "It's just water. Do you want Old Nan to hear and run tell Father?" She knelt and pulled her brother from the pool, but before she got him out again, the two of them were gone. — ADWD - Bran III

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb's leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. "You stupid," she told him, "you scared the baby," but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too. —AGOT - Arya IV

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. —ASOS - Bran II

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall." Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?" "The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite. She turned back to Ned. "I'm sorry I didn't know who you were. My lord." —ASOS - Arya VIII

Half-horses:

"You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember." —ASOS - Arya III

Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. —ADWD - Reek III

"Brandon was fostered at Barrowton with old Lord Dustin, the father of the one I'd later wed, but he spent most of his time riding the Rills. He loved to ride. His little sister took after him in that. A pair of centaurs, those two. —ADWD - The Turncloak

This is a contrast with Sansa: "I hate riding," Sansa said fervently. "All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore." —AGOT - Sansa I

LYANNA & SANSA

Beauty:

Both Lyanna and Sansa are considered beautiful:

Lyanna:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride. —AGOT - Eddard I

"The maid's a fair one," Osha said. —AGOT - Bran VII

The northern girl had a wild beauty, as he recalled. —ADWD - Epilogue

Sansa:

Sansa’s needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is.”

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily.

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

“I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.”

Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was.

“You are very beautiful, my lady,” the seamstress said when she was dressed.

Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy.

"Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

Inner Strength:  

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert," Ned told him. "You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath”. —AGOT - Eddard VII 

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. —ASOS - Sansa V

Pleading Ned to protect part of themselves:

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. —AGOT - Eddard IV

Lyanna was pleading to her brother Ned to protect her son, while Sansa was pleading to her father Ned to protect her direwolf, Lady, part of Sansa’s soul.  Later, Ned regretted failing Sansa...  

Knights & Queens of Love and Beauty:

Lyanna was a Mystery Knight AND was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal.

Lyanna as the Knight of the Laughing Tree: 

But late on the afternoon of that second day, as the shadows grew long, a mystery knight appeared in the lists. Bran nodded sagely. [...] “It was the little crannogman, I bet.” “No one knew,” said Meera, “but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face.” [...] “Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Lyanna as the Queen of love and beauty. Rhaegar wearing rubies (red) gave her a crown of winter roses (blue):

The Targaryen prince armored all in black. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight. —AGOT - Eddard I

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. —AGOT - Eddard XV

Sansa attended the Tourney of the Hand at Kings Landing, met Petyr Baelish who told her that Catelyn was his Queen of Love and Beauty, and received a (red) rose from Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, who was wearing an armor adorned with sapphires (blue).  During the second day of the tourney, Sansa wore the red rose in her hair:

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once," the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. "You have her hair." His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. —AGOT - Sansa II

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa's fervent whisper, "Oh, he's so beautiful." Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy's shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape. —AGOT - Eddard VII

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off. —AGOT - Sansa II

The boy from Highgarden did something with his legs, and his horse pranced sideways, nimble as a dancer. Sansa clutched at his arm. "Father, don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well. —AGOT - Eddard VII

At this point in the Books, Sansa, as Alayne Stone, is organizing a Tourney to elect the members of Robert Arryn personal guard, named the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights.  As the daughter of Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale, Alayne Stone could be crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty.    

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks tourneys are stupid: "I don't care about their stupid tourney." —AGOT - Arya II

Failed betrothal to a Baratheon: 

Both Lyanna and Sansa were betrothed with a Baratheon, Lyanna with Robert and Sansa with Joffrey:

If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done. —AGOT - Eddard I

There is also this parallel between Jenny of Oldstones, Lyanna & Sansa [I wrote about it here]:

Note the parallels between Duncan Targaryen, his betrothed Baratheon and Jenny of Oldstones & Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark and her betrothed Robert Baratheon: A Targaryen prince breaking an engagement with a member of House Baratheon that then originates a rebellion.

And this: Sansa was betrothed with Joffrey “Baratheon” and the engagement was broken in the middle of a war with Robb Stark leading an army against King Joffrey, and Jon almost breaking his vows to join Robb’s army to avenge Ned’s death and rescue their sisters. All of which makes me think about these parallels: Sansa being a hostage in King’s Landing & Lyanna’s “abduction”, Ned’s death & Rickard’s death, Robb’s death & Brandon’s death. And that leaves Jon to possibly play the role of Ned Stark in the future.  

Basically if Jon and Sansa happens, they will parallel two stories: Rhaegar and Lyanna, a Targaryen/Stark couple; and Ned and Cat, a Stark/Tully couple.

And right now in the Books, Sansa Stark, under the disguise of Alayne Stone, is betrothed with a Robert-like young man: Harry Hardyn. 

The Rose of Winterfell:

This is the tale:

According to free folk legend, Lord Brandon Stark, the liege of the north, once called Bael a coward. To take revenge for this affront and prove his courage, Bael climbed the Wall, took the kingsroad, and entered Winterfell under the guise of a singer named Sygerrik of Skagos. ("Sygerrik" means "deceiver" in the Old Tongue.) There, he sang until midnight for the lord.

Impressed by his skills as a singer, Lord Stark asked Bael what he wanted as a reward, but he requested only the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell's gardens. As the blue winter roses were just blooming, Brandon Stark presented him with one. The following morning, the maiden daughter of Lord Stark had disappeared, his only child, and in her bed was the blue winter rose.

Lord Brandon sent the members of the Night's Watch looking for them beyond the Wall, but they never found Bael or the girl. The Stark line was on the verge of extinction, when one day the girl was back in her room, holding in her arms an infant: they had actually never left Winterfell, staying hidden in the crypts. Bael's bastard with Brandon's daughter became the new Lord Stark.

Thirty years later, Bael was King-Beyond-the-Wall and led the wildlings' army south, and he had to fight his own son at the Frozen Ford. There, incapable of killing his own blood, he let himself be killed by Lord Stark. His son brought back Bael's head to Winterfell, and his mother who had loved the bard, seeing the trophy, killed herself by leaping from the top of a tower. The son was eventually slain by the Boltons.

[Source]

Ygritte told this story to Jon in ACOK - Jon VI, and it resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’.  Immediately after this chapter, comes ACOK - Sansa IV, where she flowered for the first time, next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon).

Also take note that Sansa was “abducted” by Petyr Baelish, a known deceiver, whose surname has a resemblance with the name Bael.

Ladies of Winterfell

Lyanna’s and Lady’s bones are buried at Winterfell, what makes them literally Ladies of Winterfell:  

"She was more beautiful than that," the king said after a silence. His eyes lingered on Lyanna's face, as if he could will her back to life. Finally he rose, made awkward by his weight. "Ah, damn it, Ned, did you have to bury her in a place like this?" His voice was hoarse with remembered grief. "She deserved more than darkness …" "She was a Stark of Winterfell," Ned said quietly. "This is her place." —AGOT - Eddard I

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice. When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory said, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.” —AGOT - Eddard III

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows. She had gone south, and only her bones had returned. —AGOT - Bran VI

I wrote about this before:

Now, back to Lady’s death. We know that this event is a turning point in Sansa’s arc, but other than that, the paragraphs leading to the direwolf’s execution are laden with symbolism and foreshadowing, not only for Sansa, but for Ned as well.

During the “trial”, Ned decides that he will take Lady’s life himself, in order to avoid having a butcher like Ilyn Payne do the execution. Then, before he struck, he pronounced her name in the same fashion Robb and Jon called the name of their direwolves before they both died. This for me foreshadows Ned’s own death. Also, before Lady’s death, Ned pleads King Robert to change his decision on putting down the direwolf, appealing to the memory of Lyanna, the woman Robert loved. Similarly, before Ned’s execution at the steps of the Sept of Baelor, Sansa pleads King Joffrey to spare her father’s life, appealing to the love he has for her. As we know, both pleas fell on deaf ears and both Lady and Ned lost their lives; bringing the story full circle, as Ilyn Payne himself cut off Ned’s head.

Another interesting thing is that before Lady’s death we have direct and indirect references to Lyanna Stark. We have the direct reference when Ned appealed to the love Robert Baratheon bore Lyanna, in order to save Lady’s life, and the indirect one when he ordered Jory to choose four men to return Lady’s body to the north, to bury her in Winterfell. This order Ned gave to his men alludes to his own decision to take Lyanna’s body to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts, after her demise, brought on by her doomed love affair with Rhaegar Targaryen. 

Dubious Loyalty?

Both Lyanna and Sansa got infatuated by Golden Princes: Rhaegar Targaryen and Joffrey Baratheon, and because of that they both unintentionally played a part in the deaths of their fathers and older brothers, Rickard and Brandon & Ned and Robb.  They both also ended trapped in towers regretting their doomed romances.

As I mentioned before, I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark.  That Sansa was described as member of dubious loyalty for her family; but while Lyanna is glorified by the fandom, both  Outline Sansa and Asoiaf Sansa are unfairly vilified for committing the same actions that Lyanna did.     

Also, as it was pointed out before, Rickard Stark and Catelyn Stark both saw their firstborn sons murdered in front of them, while convinced that their daughters were far away being raped and abused by cruel princes, and then were brutally murdered themselves.

Dead before their time:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time. —A Game Of Thrones, Sansa V

Lyanna and Lady (part of Sansa’s soul) both died in the south, before their time.  

Lyanna’s ghost has haunted Cersei:  Cersei wanted to marry Rhaegar but ended married with Robert.  Both Rhaegar and Robert loved Lyanna.

Lady is mentioned in the Books as a “shade”, a synonym for ghost.  And after Ned’s death, Sansa became a ghost at the Red Keep’s court.

And to finish this section, here some gifsets that illustrate some of the Lyanna & Sansa parallels that were mentioned:

Sansa Stark and Lyanna Stark + parallels

Pleading

She-wolves of Winterfell

Beautiful, Captivating Child-Women 

Hidden Metal ft. hair parallels

Broken ‘Baratheon’ Engagements ft. more hair parallels

Fair Maidens 

LYANNA & ARYA & SANSA

The wolf-blood:

I have already mentioned this aspect of Lyanna and Arya above, but Sansa has the wolf-blood too.  It’s subtle, but it’s there:

"I've never seen an aurochs," Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. "A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table," she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. "She's not a dog, she's a direwolf," Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. "Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want." The septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?" —AGOT - Sansa I

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm. "Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. —AGOT - Sansa III

Jeyne yawned. "Are there any lemon cakes?" Sansa did not like being interrupted, but she had to admit, lemon cakes sounded more interesting than most of what had gone on in the throne room. "Let's see," she said. The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and that was almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets, and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya. —AGOT - Sansa III

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." —AGOT - Sansa VI

Knights protect the innocent:

Lyanna, as herself and as the Knight of the Laughing Tree, defended Howland Reed, a bannerman of House Stark:

"None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf." "A wolf on four legs, or two?" "Two," said Meera. "The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four. 

(...)

“Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Arya defended Mycah, the butcher’s boy:

Mycah shook his head. "It's only a stick, m'lord. It's not no sword, it's only a stick." "And you're only a butcher's boy, and no knight." Joffrey lifted Lion's Tooth and laid its point on Mycah's cheek below the eye, as the butcher's boy stood trembling. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?" A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah's flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy's cheek. "Stop it!" Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. Sansa was afraid. "Arya, you stay out of this." "I won't hurt him … much," Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher's boy. Arya went for him. Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. — AGOT - Sansa I

Sansa, as a lady armored with her courtesy and wits, defended a defenestrated knight turned fool:  

The king stood. "A cask from the cellars! I'll see him drowned in it." Sansa heard herself gasp. "No, you can't." Joffrey turned his head. "What did you say?" Sansa could not believe she had spoken. Was she mad? To tell him no in front of half the court? She hadn't meant to say anything, only . . . Ser Dontos was drunk and silly and useless, but he meant no harm. "Did you say I can't? Did you?" "Please," Sansa said, "I only meant . . . it would be ill luck, Your Grace . . . to, to kill a man on your name day." "You're lying," Joffrey said. "I ought to drown you with him, if you care for him so much." "I don't care for him, Your Grace." The words tumbled out desperately. "Drown him or have his head off, only . . . kill him on the morrow, if you like, but please . . . not today, not on your name day. I couldn't bear for you to have ill luck . . . terrible luck, even for kings, the singers all say so . . ." Joffrey scowled. He knew she was lying, she could see it. He would make her bleed for this. "The girl speaks truly," the Hound rasped. "What a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year." His voice was flat, as if he did not care a whit whether the king believed him or no. Could it be true? Sansa had not known. It was just something she'd said, desperate to avoid punishment. Unhappy, Joffrey shifted in his seat and flicked his fingers at Ser Dontos. "Take him away. I'll have him killed on the morrow, the fool." "He is," Sansa said. "A fool. You're so clever, to see it. He's better fitted to be a fool than a knight, isn't he? You ought to dress him in motley and make him clown for you. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death." The king studied her a moment. "Perhaps you're not so stupid as Mother says." He raised his voice. "Did you hear my lady, Dontos? From this day on, you're my new fool. You can sleep with Moon Boy and dress in motley." —ACOK - Sansa I

She-Wolves of Winterfell:

Lyanna and Arya are often referred as She-Wolves in the Books, but in a very subtle and poetical way, Sansa is referred as a She-Wolf too: 

He smiled at her. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our Hand's daughter." —AGOT - Sansa I

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head." —ASOS - Arya XIII

"May the Father judge him justly," murmured a septon. "The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws." —ASOS - Jaime VII

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle. The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son.  —AFFC - Cersei IV

What a kick-ass reputation: Sansa, the wolf that killed King Joffrey! 

Fond of Flowers:

Lyanna, Arya and Sansa are linked with flowers:

Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." —A Game Of Thrones - Eddard I

None of which stopped Arya, of course. One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse. Then it turned out the purple flowers were called poison kisses, and Arya got a rash on her arms. —AGOT - Sansa I

It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella's garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods. —AGOT - Sansa V

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." — ASOS - Sansa VII

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off. —AGOT - Sansa II

Songs:

While Arya likes songs about heroes and adventures:

Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs. —Bran II - AGOT

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs. —ASOS - Arya XII

Lyanna and Sansa are linked with singers and romantic songs and stories that move them to cry.  

As I said before, the story about Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’.  Sansa is also linked with this story, as was explained above.  

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle. —ASOS - Bran II

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the “Dance of the Dragons,” [sung in High Valyrian] Ned inspected the bruise himself. “I hope Forel is not being too hard on you,” he said. —AGOT - Eddard VII

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen. —AGOT - Sansa IV

After the meal had been cleared away, many of the guests asked leave to go to the sept. Cersei graciously granted their request. Lady Tanda and her daughters were among those who fled. For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist. —ACOK - Sansa VI

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

Once, when she was just a little girl, a wandering singer had stayed with them at Winterfell for half a year. An old man he was, with white hair and windburnt cheeks, but he sang of knights and quests and ladies fair, and Sansa had cried bitter tears when he left them, and begged her father not to let him go. “The man has played us every song he knows thrice over,” Lord Eddard told her gently. “I cannot keep him here against his will. You need not weep, though. I promise you, other singers will come.”  They hadn’t, though, not for a year or more. Sansa had prayed to the Seven in their sept and old gods of the heart tree, asking them to bring the old man back, or better still to send another singer, young and handsome. But the gods never answered, and the halls of Winterfell stayed silent.  But that was when she was a little girl, and foolish. She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence. —A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks love songs are stupid: Another stupid love song. Lanna was always begging the singer to play her stupid love songs. —AFFC - Cat Of The Canals

So there you have it.  There is more to say, but I think I covered the basics.

Thanks for your message.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Curse Control:  Chapter 1

A flower of bright gold unfolded from what most people in Fernsworth thought wasn't anything more than an abandoned ramshackle hut. Sometimes travelers stayed there for the night or during bad weather.  Rumors ran rampant about fae involvement at times, since strange lights were seen dancing around there at odd times.  Once in a while people were hired to check it out and they always returned with the same judgment - an abandoned ramshackle hut, with nothing to recommend it beyond having been built well enough to withstand the elements without much in the way of upkeep. 

Thomas Arclight strolled out of what had been the hut, dusting himself off.  He didn't cast as much as a single glance behind himself as he weighed the bag of silver he held.

Good enough for a few drinks, he determined, and turned his paces towards the road that led to a town of far more significance than the closest one.  He'd been in the area too long; if he stayed here for his celebration drink, then it was quite likely that someone from the gang he'd just mostly incinerated would recognize him.  Not that he couldn't deal with it if they did, but it would be so annoying, and he had so many better things to do with his time.

Besides, he was scheduled to meet Chris in the larger town of Westwend in a few days, and he didn't want to be late for that.  His elder brother could be so annoying when Thomas didn't show up on time or didn't show up at all or blew up all manner of things before he got there. 

At least this time he'd done a more or less good deed.  No one would miss the low-lifes he'd taken care of, and given the strength of the spell that he'd used, he didn't think it likely that there had been any survivors.  Even if there had been, he doubted they would be able to follow him.  So he headed on towards Westwend, trying to remember which tavern he'd promised to meet Chris in and thinking about what sort of ale he wanted when he got there.

Behind him, out of the raging inferno left behind, a plank of charred wood shifted, and a single hand twitched underneath, before clenching into a fist, and a hiss of rage floated on the wind.

Thomas settled himself into a comfortable chair in the Melting Dagger, sipping at a pint of a very fine ale.  It wasn't the best ever; this wasn't' a good enough windfall for that.  But it was good enough that he could drink it and he didn't have to worry about anything else.  Except, of course, the one thing he always worried about. 

Not right now, he reassured himself.  He'd cast his magic for the week.  It wouldn't build up now.  Everything would be fine - unless some fool pushed him beyond his ability to reign in the flames that seethed under his skin.  It had been known to happen.

For now, though, everything was fine.  Everything would continue to be fine.  He just had to wait for Chris to show up.  It would be nice if they could have Michael as well, but that wasn't likely. Perhaps they'd go check on him once they were together.  Not that he'd know who they were.  He never did.

Thomas's hand clutched harder around the metal drinking cup.  He wanted to scream and burn something, and hauled back on his internal flames before they had the chance to scorch anything around him.  It wasn't Michael's fault.  It wasn't his fault.  It was all the fault of that damnable bastard!

Anyone looking at him might have caught a glimpse of flames burning in his eyes for a few seconds.  Thankfully no one was.  Only the very strongest of fire mages could have that happen and not every place welcomed a fire mage.  So far he hadn't been told to get out.  Best that he keep himself under control. The door swung open.  Thomas glanced up, more from vague curiosity than anything else, and hissed under his breath when he saw who stalked in.  What was he doing here?  Why was he not dead?

Ice-blue eyes rested directly on him as his last employer stalked over.  No one said anything.  More than one person quietly slipped out of the tavern.  When a man clearly having survived a terrible fire, face now seamed with fresh burn scars, stalked in, very few had the nerve to stick around.

Thomas mentally sighed, though he didn't make an outward move.  Who else had gotten away from the fire?  Was he going to have to deal with - oh. Of course.  He'd stopped for help.

Six of the burliest, most muscular thugs that Thomas had seen in a while stumped in after the surviving leader. Most of them didn't look as if they'd made much use of soap and water in the last month or two.  But they all looked quite capable of tearing a normal person limb from limb and would probably enjoy doing so.  Thomas had seen quite a few people like them in his life.  He'd never liked one of them.

The leader - Venom, or so he was popularly known - threw himself down into the chair opposite Thomas and glared at him. "Thought you were pretty cute with that trick, didn't you?"  His voice had once been soft and gentle, even when giving out the most horrible of orders.  It was part of how he'd gotten his name, other than knowing a great deal about poisons and drugs.  "Well, you're not gonna get away with it."

Thomas sipped at his drink.  "I have no idea of what you're talking about."  Under his skin, the flames flickered, twisted, darted, and he fought to lock them down.  Now wasn't the time or the place.

"You know exactly what you did, IV!"  Venom spat his code name back at him.  In the circles Thomas often found himself since the days of his curse, it was far better for his true name not to be known. So that sufficed. "You nearly killed me and you did kill the other!"

"Did I?"  Thomas shrugged.  "I seem to remember mentioning that I don't always have full control of my power."  He always made sure they knew that, that whenever he worked a spell of flame, something blew up.  Usually everything in his immediate vicinity.  Most of the time he could keep the blast from harming himself but that had taken practice.  The scar on his face was evidence of that. 

What he had neglected to tell them was that he needed to use his fire magic at least once a week, or it blew up without warning and without control of any kind.  He always neglected that part when he made a new contract with someone.  Sometimes he managed to channel the explosion into something useful.  As far as he was concerned, this was something useful - ridding the area of scum like that.  The fact he'd picked up a hefty sack of silver was only a bonus.

I think you're lying,"  Venom growled.  The sweet voice that had been before was now replaced by the tones of someone who'd smoked for thirty years or more.  "I think you tried to murder all of us and I want to know who paid you to do it."

An assassin?  He was being accused of being an assassin?  Well, it wasn't as if he hadn't killed people before, and been paid very handsomely for it.  But there was a powerful difference between an assassin and a fire mage, and Thomas refused to let that pass.

"No one."  Slowly, cruelly, IV smirked one of his best smirks, tossing down the rest of his ale and lounging back in his chair as if it were a king's throne.  "I did it because I wanted to.  Because you and yours are nothing but the worst kind of scum who don't deserve to live.  And if you are still alive, then I'm going to have to do something about it."

Venom growled, a sharp blade visible in one hand now.  "Kind of hard to do that when you're the one dead!"  A jerk of his head and two of the burly musclemen grabbed onto him, hardened fingers sinking into him.  "Hold him while I cut his throat.  Nice and slow, too."

IV didn't even twitch an eyebrow.  The volcano that seethed under his skin at all times seethed and surged but he continued to hold it back.  "What makes you think I'd let you do that?"

"I don't see that you're going to be able to stop me,"  Venom hissed, leaning forward to trace the blade over the scar.  "Wonder who gave you this.  Maybe I should let you live and give you a matching one on the other side, just so people know that no one messes with me."

To Be Continued

Notes: I am quite looking forward to finishing this! I had fun designing Thomas & Michael’s curses too.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (27)

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry about how long this chapter took to update. Taking on master’s classes on top of work has been a rough transition. The majority of this chapter had been planned and typed a long time ago, but it just took me ages to organize it, detail it, clean it up, and fluff it with a fork. For those of you who have contacted recently, (and I probably have yet to respond) this chapter is for you. Without your encouragement, who knows how much longer this chapter would have taken.

Forgive me. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

Chapter 27: Confirmation

Sakura had fully intended on eavesdropping on Sasuke’s conversation with Satou; in fact, it was the only reason that Sakura had allowed the interaction to transpire between her patient and her teammate. After Sasuke had closed the door firmly behind her, Sakura had walked heavily down the hallway so her footsteps could be heard. Her next step was to take the stairs, walk silently up two floors, and listen in by opening the window directly above Satou’s. Sakura had noted that Satou’s patient room window had been cracked open. Surely her ninja skills would be well-adapted to a simple eavesdropping.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, as Sakura walked down the hall, she noted that her breathing was becoming short. Her chest was tightening considerably, a feeling that she dismissed at first to anxiety at the current situation. When she paused to consider it, Sakura tried to swallow past her itchy throat. A terrifying realization came over Sakura has she glanced down at her hands that held the freshly pulverized Ashuwa.

Shit.         

Sakura covered the mortar, sprinted down the remainder of the hallway, and took a right. She held tightly to the Ashuwa despite the situation; she couldn’t afford to sacrifice what they had acquired in her state of panic. Sakura tried her best to remember the hospital’s layout; there was a drug storage room on every level, so thankfully Sakura wouldn’t have to take stairs in her compromised situation. Turning another corner, Sakura was relieved to finally stumble up to the door marked “薬” for medication. Placing the mortar of Ashuwa on the ground, Sakura managed to focus through her shortness of breath and perform the sign of the ram to channel her chakra to her palm. Placing it on the center of the door, Sakura nearly stumbled as the door received her chakra signature and swung open to grant her access to the room.

Sakura’s vision began to blur as she shuffled through the drawers and cabinets. She could barely read the itemized labels of the stored items. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. She felt lethargic and her throat was swelling quickly. She should have taken Mako’s warning more seriously. He had told her of the drug’s disuse in the medical environment due to many allergic reactions to it. This was what she had been testing earlier when she picked a generous pinch of Ashu from the ground and placing it in her mouth; however, her and Mako both had gotten distracted by the issue of Satou.

Sakura cursed at herself for being careless but felt confident in her approach. If only she could find the medicine. She narrowed her focus to the vials on the top shelf and coughed violently as she reached for one. Stumbling into the shelf resulted in several of them busting onto the ground. After locating the blue tagged bottle labeled “adrenaline,” Sakura threw open cabinet after cabinet until she found the drawer of packaged syringes. She was choking now, a fish out of water and she aimed the needle into the top of the bottle; her hands shook as she waisted even more time trying to draw the medicine into the plunger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke was trying to outwalk Mako, who was smiling kindly and attempting to make small talk as they quickly made their way down the hall from Satou’s room. Sasuke thought if he could just stride quickly enough, Mako might take the hint and part ways with him.

Sasuke frowned at Mako’s prattling of, “I have to admit. I was concerned with the whole genjutsu approach, but I think that it might be pretty effective. That was brilliant!”

Sasuke stopped his break-neck pace and narrowed his eyes at the medic, scrutinizing him carefully. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” asked Mako innocently, crossing his arms behind him.

Sasuke debated Mako for a second. Here was a skilled shinobi of medicine, an assistant to his friend, and Sakura addressed him casually. This trip was the first occasion that Sasuke had ever met him, yet Mako recognized Sasuke’s attempt at genjutsu before he had even performed it. Perhaps he was knowledgeable of the sharingan; many people were. It was Sasuke’s past of constantly being targeted that had the Uchiha wary. Was this the reason Sasuke was inclined to distrust him, or was it the fact that Sakura was involved?

Sasuke clarified. “I want to know who you are and what you want.”

Mako laughed and smiled nicely. “Well, I am a medic ninja here at the Suna hospital. I have been appointed to assist Sakura-san during her stay with us. Kankuro was pretty adamant about it.”

“Hn.” Sasuke responded before walking forward again. Mako sped to catch up.

“Honestly,” he continued, “Sunagakure owes a lot to Sakura-san. You have probably heard this before, but we have advanced due to her and the Leaf’s medical supervision and instruction. We are something in her debt.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. Perhaps that was all there was to it. Sasuke supposed it made sense that Gaara and Kankuro would assign the most ambitious learner and fellow medicinal expert as Sakura’s assistant. Sunagakure wanted to take advantage of every lesson and tip available. Sakura’s discipline and dedication to the medical practice made her share a common interest with the professionals here. Not everyone always had some double meaning to their actions like most ninja in the shinobi world.

As Sasuke and Mako rounded the corner to the left, they paused as several people ran past them in the opposite direction, back toward the center of the third floor. One man who bumped into Mako’s shoulder turned to look at him in recognition, jogging backwards. “Code 10. Haruno-san.”

“Shit!” Mako cursed, chasing after the man who spoke. Sasuke didn’t know what “Code 10” meant, but to see a panicked response in connection to the name “Haruno” had Sasuke quickly following.

“What is it?” he demanded, matching Mako’s stride this time.  

“Anaphylaxis” Mako said breathlessly as they rounded the final corner and nearly collided with several attendants outside a small room in the hallway. Someone was kneeling just outside the door and Sasuke couldn’t make out the questions they were asking before until he began to make his way through with Mako right on his heels.

When he came in line with the entrance, Sasuke froze. Sakura was on her back, broken glass surrounding her on a messy floor. A medic was kneeling down beside her and removing a syringe from her hand. “We need to get her into one of the rooms. Now.” Sasuke’s heart was racing as someone wheeled a gurney past him. Mako began pulling him away from the entrance to which Sasuke almost shrugged off.

Sakura’s pink head was closest to the door so Sasuke couldn’t get a good look at her face until they began lifting her onto the gurney and wheeled her past him. To Sasuke’s great relief, his medic friend was fully alert despite the hives across her face and swelling lips. When making eye contact with him, she raised her hand and waved awkwardly.

“Hey.” She said past swollen lips.

“Hey?!” Sasuke responded, irritation quickly replacing his concern. Was she serious?! Mako let out a surprised laugh at her casual greeting. Sasuke ignored him completely and began tailing the gurney as it rolled away with her.

“What the hell happened?” he asked her with pointed annoyance. After failing to mumble past her tomato mouth, Sasuke shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“I’ll explain,” Mako said from the other side of the swiveling table. Sasuke spent the next several minutes listening to Mako explain a basic understanding of anaphylaxis and staring disbelievingly at Sakura as they unloaded her onto a bed. They began to hook her up to an IV and other machinery that would monitor her pulse and blood pressure.

Mako continued his explanation, “Antihistamines are what comes next. Luckily, she responded to the epinephrine and doesn’t need intubation. We’ll have to monitor her for a few hours just to make sure she doesn’t have another episode.”

Sakura was nodding her blistered head in agreement at everything he said. Sasuke just glared at her.

“Why did you eat a plant you knew was toxic?” he asked crossly. She shrugged her shoulders, the only response she could really make at the moment.

“I should have stopped you, Haruno-san.” Mako bowed. “It is all my fault.”

Sakura began shaking her head to dismiss Mako’s apology. Then she began to gesture for Sasuke to come over to her bedside. When he was close enough, Sakura pointed toward his hand.

“What?” he asked, looking down at it. My hand? What about it? He sure wasn’t going to hold her hand if that was what she was implying. Especially not in front of anyone.

A word made it past her lips but Sasuke didn’t understand it. “Hn?”

“Rath,” she repeated, still pointing. “Da ya hath a rath?”

“Oh,” Mako exclaimed. “You were handling the Ashuwa earlier, Sasuke. Do you have a rash on your hand?”

Ah. Sasuke’s hand was partially gloved except for his fingertips, which were unmarred. It had been approximately 30-45 minutes since Sasuke had even touched the plant. Sakura had sampled the herb 10 minutes before that, so it was too early to tell if Sasuke would have a similar reaction. He didn’t have a rash on his fingertips though.

Another physician handed Mako a familiar mortar and removed his disposable gloves after touching it. Mako immediately pinched a piece out of it and offered it to the Uchiha.

Sasuke responded with a glare as Mako continued to hold it out.  “You’re not suggesting I eat that?”

“We need to make sure that you don’t develop a similar reaction, especially if you plan on using the chakra pills that Sakura is making.”

Sakura was mutely nodding in agreement and Sasuke annoyingly spat out toward her, “Why? You want me to end up looking like you?” Her nodding turned to shaking.

She followed with, “He’th ight. Eat wow you ah here.”  Sasuke scoffed and blinked in disbelief at her communication efforts. How was she even talking?!

This was an absolute lunatic idea. She wanted the BOTH of them in hospital beds in this village while Gaara was away handling potential psychos that were after them? It was already a concern that she was incapacitated; Sasuke sure as hell wasn’t going into anaphylaxis too by choice.

“I’ll wait until you’re better,” he answered, shooing Mako’s hand away from his face. As he did so, Sasuke pointed at the door, ordering Mako to just go and check on Satou’s kid. Mako blinked at him in confusion before taking the hint and exiting with that same excuse.

When the silence grew thick between them, Sasuke took a casual stance against the wall next to Sakura’s bedside.

“Ya are wathing time,” Sakura began, looking guilty despite her swollen mouth as she tucked her hands beneath the covers and looked around at nonexistent people in the room; anywhere but at him. She was right. He was wasting time, and Sasuke mentally shook himself as he realized his indifference to that. He was trying to remind himself of his goal but in that moment, Sasuke’s feelings were outweighing that purpose.

He turned his back and peered out the small window at the darkening sky. He glanced back at her briefly before turning back to the window. “Are you okay?”

There wasn’t a reply which had the Uchiha worried and he turned to see her wide-eyed expression at his question. The face Sakura was making looked as if Sasuke had grown two heads. “I mean,” he added quickly, “with a mouth like that, it looks difficult to breath.”

She immediately covered her mouth and frowned at him, obviously embarrassed at his words. “I ah fine!” she shouted in embarrassment into her fingers and turned her head. Sasuke resisted the urge to smirk.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

After the administration of the antihistamine, Sakura didn’t wait long before she began removing her own IV. She felt bad for the time that had been wasted today when she was supposed to be making the food pills. Sakura was just relieved that the Ashu had been tested before she gave Sasuke a drug that could potentially kill him.  

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked as she removed the monitor and turned off the flatlining machine before anyone came in at the sound. “They said it would be best to stay the night.”

“I’m ah do-ter” she told him. Yes, Sakura would have advised the same thing to her patients, but she was out of danger now and she felt anxious despite her drowsiness. She was troubling Sasuke enough by accompanying him on his mission. She didn’t want to get in his way; she was supposed to be making things easier.

Sasuke scoffed at her dismissive, mumbled declaration as she stood from the bed. She blinked heavily and managed to stand upright. It would still take a little bit of time for her to completely pass out from the side effects, so Sakura figured the time she had left awake could be spent productively.

The medic immediately went over to the cabinets and pulled out disposable gloves and a mask from the drawer. The mask would serve two purposes: 1) protect her from inhaling the Ashuwa as she worked and 2) hide her ridiculous “tomato” mouth as Sasuke referred to it. Ugh. Sakura could die from embarrassment.

“What are you doing now?” Sasuke grumbled irritably, following her as she moved. She immediately headed over to the mortar on the cabinet and pinched some of the yellow herb, skin protected from the substance thanks to the gloves.

“Eat.” She stated plainly. They couldn’t proceed further if Sasuke was likely to have a similar allergic reaction. Sakura would have to scrap their entire progress by disposing of the food pill batch. She would be back to square one and they would have to start all over by finding a new foundational herb with the correct properties to achieve the correct results.

“Forget it,” the Uchiha deadpanned before making to head for the door. Sakura caught hold of his hand, stumbling in the process and taking a hard fall on her knee. She winced visibly. That would bruise later. Sasuke immediately turned and helped her up and Sakura thanked her mask for hiding her blushing cheeks as well.

With the same hand Sasuke had offered, Sakura turned his palm up and placed the Ashuwa in his cupped fingers. “No time.”

Sasuke glared at her for what seemed like several minutes before reluctantly dumping it down his throat. They both knew he had to for his own sake.

Sakura nodded before trashing her gloves and retrieving a new pair. She couldn’t risk leaving traces around the hospital and anyone else coming into contact with the pollen if it was responsible for anaphylaxis. Mako had said that it was such a common reaction that they had stopped using it altogether.

Sakura halted in her steps, considered her plan, and decided to grab the entire box of disposable gloves. She handed Sasuke the mortar.

Sasuke gave her an expression that radiated annoyance but somehow was miraculously completely blank. If she could speak clearly in this moment, Sakura would have asked him how he managed that.

“Fowwo” she murmured through her mask-covered lips, pairing the word with a beckoning wave. “We’ll tesh your weaction why we wait.” She was shuffling out the door before Sasuke had the chance to say anything more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke trailed his teammate from the room, carrying the mortar of Ashuwa he had ground up earlier that day. This was one of the few times in his life that Sasuke somewhat regretted his decision to refuse the artificial limb that Tsunade had made for he and Naruto. Sakura was walking with one arm against the wall for support and Sasuke’s one and only hand was currently occupied.

It was well after dark now and many of the staff members were busy attending overnight patients, so they weren’t stopped by anyone as Sakura found her way back to the medicine room, which was now cleaned of broken glass and everything back in its space. She reached up and grabbed several bottles of adrenaline and then dug through the drawer for syringes.

“Sakura,” Sasuke began as she dropped some of the things she was holding onto the floor. “You need rest. We can finish this later.”

“We hafe to wait for weaction anyway. Might as well make the pills.”

“I feel fine.” Sasuke reassured her. It was true. Time had passed enough for his fingertips to develop a rash if there was going to be a topical reaction. He had yet to show signs from consumption.

Sakura strode past him again, this time walking backwards to face him. He could make out a smile beneath her mask which somewhat irked the Uchiha. She seemed awfully cheery despite nearly dying from anaphylaxis. Sasuke concluded that it had to be the medicine making her drowsy.

“Turn around before you fall,” he grumbled. She laughed as she began to walk slowly up the stairs. He hurried up behind her and offered her his elbow which she took thankfully despite his huffed “So annoying.” Her laugh was her only response.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura was practically nodding off as she watched Sasuke mix and prepare the batch of ingredients for the food pills. She felt relieved at finally seeing headway as Sasuke rolled the batter into 1-inch circular doses according to her instructions and placed them in the hospital’s oven.  Sakura had tried to do so herself, but Sasuke had insisted she sit down to avoid screwing them up and risking their progress. Sakura allowed him to take the reins, praying desperately that the food pills would turn out and serve their purpose after such a hassle.

“Sasuke,” she whispered, immediately touching her lips behind the mask as she noticed the decrease in swelling. The ice Sakura had retrieved from icebox was doing its job.

“Hm?” he answered, trashing the latex glove he used to protect his skin and replacing his own. He turned to her then in the dim light, but Sakura couldn’t make out his expression because the only light in the room was a lamp over the counter workspace behind him. There was a shadow concealing his features and Sakura was too tired to try to make them out.

A lot easier now that her lips were shrinking, Sakura asked, “How are you? Any shortness of breath?”

“I’m fine,” he stated simply.

“Good,” she replied, thanking that ridiculous Uchiha blood of his for not reacting to the Ashuwa like her’s had. How ironic, Sakura thought, that even Sasuke’s genetics seemed to be working for him even in this circumstance. How superior he must feel.

Reclined across the small seating bench in the corner, Sakura placed her chin on her chest and inhaled the gentle night breeze that was coming from the opened window. It seemed to be the first night that the sand wasn’t trying to shatter the glass; to be honest, Sakura was surprised that the hospital windows even opened. Perhaps they were high enough on the fourth story to avoid the sand barrage.

Sasuke came to stand before her and Sakura blinked sleepily up at him in an antihistamine induced haze.

“Sleep,” the Uchiha before her ordered. “I’ll wake you when they’re done.”

Sakura wanted to argue that she could manage to stay awake for another 20 minutes while the chakra pills roasted, but she wasn’t that confident in her ability to do so. At most, she could manage maybe 5 more minutes if she concentrated hard enough. She wanted to ask Sasuke about the conversation he had with Satou.

“Sit with me,” she said, but it sounded more like a question. There was a minute of silence as Sasuke observed her. The bench wasn’t roomy, but Sakura was too drowsy to be apprehensive about their proximity. Sasuke must have not been either, because he sat and exhaled when he did so. Perhaps he was tired too.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Sasuke tried not to lean away from her as she settled into his side. He cursed her medicated self for such confidence in a small, darkened space. He counted down the time in his head; he would only have to stay seated here for 17 more minutes. For some reason, that time seemed both entirely too long and entirely too short.

“Satou,” Sakura began, reaching up to take off the medical mask on her face. Sasuke tried not to smirk at the lips that were still puckered despite having minimized in size. He blinked past the image to focus on her words.

“Hn,” he responded sourly, thinking of the man whose name had just been dropped between them like a heavy, unwanted stone. Sasuke didn’t particularly feel like talking about that man. He had, had enough of Satou for one day.

“How did it go?” his teammate probed politely despite being nosey.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not wanting Sakura to find out about too many details. How would she react if she knew he had used his Sharingan on him? Probably not well. Sakura would continue to dig for more specifics if Sasuke didn’t bring an end to the topic promptly. “His son needs to be sent to Konoha.”

Sakura nodded, not seeming too surprised at Sasuke assessment. Perhaps she had been thinking similarly. “Thank you for talking to him.”

It wasn’t much of a talk, but Sasuke wasn’t going to tell her that, so he just responded again with a finalizing “Hn.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but jump when Sakura’s fingers touched his right hand. “Sasuke,” she began, almost in sleepy inquiry as she brushed his palm with her thumb and index. There was hopefulness in her voice and Sasuke cursed her medication again for her damn self-assurance.

“I..” she began, but Sasuke cut her off before she continued. Sasuke was almost absolutely certain that he knew which words would come next.

“Shh,” he replied, leaning comfortably into her side as his answer to her unspoken confession. “Just sleep.”

After a few breaths, and when Sakura’s head nodded onto his shoulder, Sasuke scooped up her hand into his, finding the courage to splay her fingers with his own and fasten them into place. Even when he would let her go in 15 minutes, Sasuke would lock the moment into his heart to last him the rest of his life.  

. . . . . . . . . . . .

When he counted down to the last second in his mind, Sasuke counted a few extra seconds. And then a few more. He thought about letting the doses of chakra pills burn to a crisp in the oven, but he decided against it, reluctantly releasing Sakura’s hand and pulling away from her heavy head.

Making sure that Sakura wouldn’t wake, Sasuke silently rose, turned off the oven and retrieved the pills from inside. He placed them on the counter quietly and turned to lean against the counter. He watched Sakura’s sleeping form for a few minutes, considering if he should wake her as he promised or let her sleep longer. What was the possibility of sitting beside her and stealing a few moments more?

Sasuke knew he was playing a dangerous game. Tomorrow, the Uchiha would test the chakra pill nearby and he and Sakura both were aware of what would happen after that. With the issue of his chakra reserves addressed, he would return to the desert to attempt cross-connecting dimensions again. They both realized Sasuke couldn’t waste any more time.

And with that thought, Sasuke’s stern resolve slipped. He would distance himself later, he thought. He would put the space back between them tomorrow. Tonight, Sasuke wanted to be next to Sakura.

He sat back down beside her and softly took up her hand again.  Just for a little while longer.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura woke in the middle of the night from the pain in her arched neck. She blinked past sleep and realized that she was folded into Sasuke’s side with her knees tucked and Sasuke’s head leaning against hers. Not only that, but Sakura froze as she realized her hand was entwined with Sasuke’s between them. The moment was fragile, and Sakura almost cried of joy and then heartbreak as it shattered when Sasuke responded to her shifting.

The weight of his head on hers lifted and Sakura tried not to grab desperately at him to keep him from moving. Instead, Sakura pivoted her eyes to his as his sleep faded and realization appeared on his face.

Sasuke released her hand and stood hurriedly, saying nothing despite how Sakura’s heart wanted answers. She wanted to know if this moment was genuine or if she had been the one to hold onto him in her sleep. Sakura wanted to believe desperately that Sasuke had allowed himself to be transparent for just a moment and had secretly revealed his true feelings for her by holding her as she slept. Had that been the case? Was she being too optimistic? This wouldn’t be the first time their hands had touched. Had he been supporting her as a friend, or did he feel something more? She had to know.

“Sasuke,” she began, but he cut her off for the second time that night.

“Good. You’re awake. Let’s go.” He declared, hastily placing the finished chakra pills in an open travel container on the counter.  

Sakura stood then, heart racing and adrenaline pumping as she worked up the courage to come up behind him as he worked. She wasn’t going to confess this time. She was going to ask Sasuke if he had been confessing to her while she slept?

“Do you… love me?”

Sakura was almost certain that he stopped breathing altogether as he paused his task. The Uchiha took a minute to compose himself before exhaling. “When are you going to stop that?”

The statement was meant to be cold, but the fact that it came out so desperately low gave Sakura a rare feeling of hope despite the words. “When are you?” she responded calmly in a whisper.

“What?” he asked incredulously, finally turning to her.

She gradually took the last few steps between them and stood carefully in front of him. “When are you going to stop pretending that you have no feelings for me?”

Sakura expected a scoff, a ridicule, but what she got in return was painful fear in Sasuke’s usually expression-less eyes.

It was true, she realized. Sasuke did have feelings for her. There had been so many signs, but Sakura had been unsure about all of them until this very moment. But what had just passed between them was confirmation. Sakura almost lost her breath at the realization.

“You’re mistaken,” finally came the blunt retort, but it was too late.

Sakura was already closing the inches between them. Her fingers were already brushing his cheeks as she brought his face to hers. She hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to pull away from her. But Sasuke barely took a breath before Sakura touched her lips to his.