#well like i saw the moon bigger but i missed it on the horizon where it was super part of it

[assigned-caim-at-birth]

you kno he super, you know he blue

[xsamsharons]

force of habit - nikolai lantsov.

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader.

genre/warning: angsty fluff.

words: 1.4k

summary: nikolai and you have been sharing beds ever since you were little, a habit you haven't been able to break no matter how increasingly more painful it became once you developed feelings for each other.

The night was cold and dark, and as the droplets of water that the rain let escape fell through the holes on your bedroom roof and landed on your pillow beside you, you couldn’t help but wish that someone else was occupying the spot instead. The rain somehow reflected exactly the way you were feeling, and the slight sway of the waves against the ship that would usually calm you down, were now only a representation of the back and forward game that it felt like you were playing with Nikolai. Ever since you could remember, Nikolai and you had been sharing beds or sneaking into each other’s rooms at ungodly hours of the night, staying up talking about everything and anything until the rays of sunlight started to paint the black night sky a brighter blue. It had been fun at first, two childhood best friends that would occasionally cuddle but always sleep next to each other, it was normal and it didn’t hurt at first, until it did.

No one had warned you that the little boy with wild blonde hair and excited doe hazel eyes your parents had forced you to get along with, would become the only person you would ever be able to give your heart to. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t tried to think about other people because you had, after all, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. However, every time you went out with someone who wasn’t Nikolai, you would start to compare that person to him, and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

You would compare if way their hand felt in yours was the same to the way Nikolai’s did, you would compare the color of their eyes and if shone the same way Nikolai’s did when the sun was setting over the horizon and it hit him just right, and most of all, you would compare how you couldn’t feel anything at all, as opposed to the roller coaster of emotions that Nikolai made you feel. So, eventually, you just decided that a little bit of Nikolai was better than none of him, and that feeling heartbreak and sadness was better than feeling nothing at all. Which is how you ended where you were now: thousands of miles away from home, in a ship where you couldn’t even call your friend by his real name, and sleeping alone with your only company being the rain and the stars that shone above you.

The sound that the water made when it fell on top of your pillow felt eerily similar to the sound a clock would make when it was ticking: mocking you, telling you that every minute you spent laying on your bed, was a minute you weren’t spending with Nikolai. But how could you? When the mere thought of having to be beside him and feel so close to him but so far away was heart wrenching and when knowing that while you lay awake thinking about him, he’s probably sleeping safe and sound on his own bed, not a single thought about you swirling around in his mind and making its way onto every vein connected to his heart.

Your eyes got blurry with tears as your head showed you flashes of Nikolai’s face throughout the years, but you didn’t get much time to drown even deeper into your own self pity when a noise from your door startled you.

You could barely see in the dark of your room, but you’d know him anywhere. “Nik?”

“The one and only.” he smirked as he made his way closer to you, finally allowing the moon to shine on his face and showcase his beautiful untailored features. “Mind if I lay here for a while? Force of habit.” he shrugged at your surprised expression, and your mind was sent into override once again as you wondered if he had been thinking about you after all.

“Missed me too much?” you asked, hiding behind the teasing facade and scooting over, granting him space next to you on your bed.

“It’s hard to sleep without you.” he answered as he laid down, instead of the teasing remark you had been expecting him to make to match your own.

You wanted to say so much, but kept quiet as he settled beside you and let only the sound of the rain against your roof take over the quietness of the room. Suddenly, the atmosphere was different from what it had once been: where there had once been childish giggles and conversations about the future, there now was unusual tension and unspoken feelings.

“Why not just go to your room?” you asked when you saw the water that had been previously falling on the empty pillow, now fall on his face. The line it traced down his face almost looked like a tear, and you resisted the urge to run your thumb against it.

“I knew it! You are just using me because my room as the captain is bigger.” he accused teasingly, and you rolled your eyes as he pretended to be offended.

“You say that, yet you’re the one who knocked on my door to come sleep next to me.” you teased back, but his face fell at your words, and you panicked. It felt as if that was what finally broke the dam, because his eyes started to fill with tears and his usual confident facade was dropped. “Nik? What 's wrong?” you cupped his face with both of your hands, and he leaned into your touch like a cat would, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. He skipped past your hands and instead collapsed right onto your chest, your arms coming to wrap around him and play with his hair as you shushed his cries.

After what felt like years of torture having to listen to the boy you loved sob into your arms, he finally lifted his head up and looked into your eyes. “Do you not want me here?” he asked, voice raw due to his cries.

“What?” you answered with your own question, not being able to comprehend how he could ever think that you didn’t want him next to you.

“Do I bother you by coming to your room every night?” he rephrased, and your heart broke at his weak tone and vulnerable question.

“Of course you don’t.” you were quick to deny. “Most of the nights we don’t spend together I just spend them thinking about you.” you admitted, voice trailing down towards the end, embarrassed about the confession.

“You do?” his eyes suddenly looked hopeful, and you had to convince yourself to not jump to conclusions about what his reaction to your words could mean.

“I do.” you nodded. “All the time.” After a moment of silence, you decided to just ask the question that had been playing on your mind like a constant loop. “Do you ever think about me?”

“All the time.” he repeated your words, and you released a breathy laugh that sounded more like an exclamation of relief. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, and your breath was suddenly caught on your throat, not letting you release any sounds, so you just settled for nodding.

At your confirmation, he lunged forward and captured your lips in a kiss that took any little air that was left in your lungs away. It wasn’t a perfect kiss, because you could taste his salty tears and the years of waiting just caused you both to become desperate for each other, but you didn’t need it to be perfect. You didn’t need it to be perfect when the kiss held every unspoken word, every hidden emotion, and every thought you had tried so hard to ignore and push away.

“Who would’ve known you wanted to kiss me that badly?” he said once you both pulled away, his voice coming out in the form of a whispered pant, trying to regain his composure.

“You know, your teasing doesn’t sound that coy when you can barely get it out because you’re out of breath.” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“In my defense, I've waited my whole life to do that.” he said, making your smile grow to an unimaginable size and your cheeks to be overcome by a rose blush.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know the feeling is mutual.”

“Don’t worry, I noticed.” he answered, gesturing to your lips and referencing the kiss you’d just shared.

You slapped his chest at his words, but after hearing his laugh come in response to your hand colliding against his chest and the offended look on his face, you realized you would not change his teasing words for even the best of a poet’s declaration of love. He was finally yours, and you were finally his. And that was enough.

[workofheart]

can i request no. 4 with jean please??? i love you so much!!!

this one is so adorable, i’m so glad to have some love for jean boy finally <3 also slightly edited the line for flow purposes :3 update: HAS been edited 

while we’re out on watch | jean +“i don’t know if you noticed, but i’m in love with you”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

the time when darkness submerges the land is always a beautiful one. from here, you can see the stars above flickering like throbs of a heart, growing minutely bigger and smaller in the black of the sky, almost able trace the invisible lines between them with a finger held out in front of you.

sighing, you pick your head up from where it rests on your palm, elbow on the edge of the barrier. you know you’ll fall asleep eventually if you keep it up.

the nighttime is a relief, even if the peace it brings is only a mirage for what lies just miles beyond. such is the reason why you’re sat in the watchtower, keeping guard while the others rest inside. if only you could be enjoying it by choice, when you’re not exhausted and in dire need of sleep, or at least had some company.

as if on cue, you feel his presence before you see it - the approaching echo of weighted footsteps on the earth is a familiar sound to your trained ears. you hear the wood squeak and his footfalls thump on the precarious rings below.

“jean?’ you ask, twisting to peer over your shoulder, voice quiet as to not disturb the sleepy air. it only takes a moment for his head to appear above the floor of the tower, followed by the rest of his body climbing inside.

“hi.” he smiles shyly, dusting the sawdust from the ladder off of his hands. his eyes crinkle, but there are deep hanging, purple circles beneath them, a stark juxtaposition from the way his pupils seem to sparkle with the slivers of moonlight that cross his gaze.

“what are you doing here? your shift isn’t for another...” you check your watch. “two hours.”

jean shrugs, nonchalant. “couldn’t sleep. thought i’d come early,” he says simply, pulling a dusty chair from the corner to place it next to yours. he admirably brushes off the dust and cobwebs that hang between the arm rests.

you think of maybe switching out, leaving now that he’s here. the lull of deep rest is so inviting, being able to collapse into a decent bunk, what a beautiful hope... but while you’re in desperate need of sleep, you know you can’t miss out on this chance. 

it’s so rare that you can get a moment alone with him when you’re constantly traveling with the scouts. there’s always someone bursting in the room, screaming across the hall, butting into your personal space. but then again, when has there ever been true privacy within the scout regiment?

so, you slump back into your chair, the wood digging into your back just uncomfortable enough to keep you from falling asleep. you’re glad to have him here.

“how’ve you been?” he asks, softly clearing his throat, “feel like i haven’t talked to you in forever.”

“that’s because it has been forever,” you laugh. “’been okay. you?”

“doin’ well, yeah. as much as you can be. and, oh,” he says, reminded of something from the expression that passes over his features. he leans forward and digs his hand into his coat pocket before presenting you a half of a bun sitting pretty in his palm.

your stomach growls audibly, making your face run hot in embarrassment. you take it graciously. “how’d you know?”

jean retreats his hands and looks down to his lap, not able to help the urge to pick at his nails. nervous habit. how could he not be, when you look so pretty and he has the sight all to himself?

“saw you didn’t eat earlier. just thought you might be hungry.”

he hopes it doesn’t sound creepy, even though when recalling how he was looking at you at dinner, it was, objectively, a little creepy. he prays you’ll brush it off, but already knowing that you won’t is just another thing that makes his heart skip a beat. 

you can’t let him live, and he can’t get enough of it.

“oh, so you’re stalking me now?” you joke, but the thought of him noticing such a thing makes your chest swell. you’re touched.

jean didn’t even sit by you at dinner tonight. you’re sure he was a table over, and the only reason you know is because you kept sneaking glances at him, wishing he had sat down next to you instead, like he usually does. his hair looked so nice, and his cute mannerisms were so much more obvious when you could see him from the front.

he chuckles shyly, a hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

he swallows. “just... take care of yourself. i’m not always gonna be here to bring you bread when you’re hungry.”

carefully, you rip a small chunk of bread off with your fingers and toss it into your watering mouth. it’s fluffy and sweet, now that you actually have an appetite to taste it. “you’re starting to sound like my mother, jean kirstein.” 

he loves the way you say his name. if only you knew how it makes his chest bloom with warmth. it sounds so natural and endearing rolling off your tongue that for a second, his only dream is getting to hear it again.

“why do you care so much? you add quietly, eyes flitting over to meet his. his face softens at your sincerity. 

“why do you care if i care?” he counters, but his tone is soft as cashmere. he hesitates, not sure if he should go a step further, before continuing with an experimental tenderness. “you’re important to me. isn’t that enough?”

“oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes. it breaks the veil of late-night emotional vulnerability that hangs in the air. “don’t get all mushy on me.” 

but it’s a lie. god, is it a lie. you love when he gets mushy on you. jean’s open nature is alluring and intimidating at the same time. you’re not sure if you’d even be able to participate, with how hard it is to take your own feelings seriously. you never have the guts to say anything more, to say what you actually want to say. 

too often, you’ve thought about what exact words you’d use, how you’d do it. you’ve rehearsed the lines, read over them in your mind a thousand times. but it’s pointless - it’s not like he’d ever date you, not in this climate with so much constantly on the line, right? that’s the reason you feel so guilty in the first place, what with him taking care of you when you refuse to do it for yourself. it’s just another added stress, and you can’t stand to see it when he’s dealing with so much already.

he’s not sure how to reply, so you fill the space instead, regretting your previous joking detachment. “i just don’t get why you bother.”

for whatever reason, it makes him feel a little huffy. how could you think that? how could you ask such a thing, when he makes it so damn obvious? maybe it’s his lack of sleep clouding his judgment, or maybe he’s just exhausted from hiding his feelings any longer, but he says it without really thinking.

he sighs with an attitude. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but i’m kind of in love with you.”

you scoff, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “don’t say stuff like that.” taking another bite of bread, you’re anticipating him to burst out in laughter any second, but he doesn’t. jean is first frozen in astonishment at his own words, and secondly frozen by the way you so easily dismiss it.

eyebrows furrowing, his voice takes on a defensive tone. “i mean it.”

when your eyes meet his, your mask of a grin drops to an embarrassed, disbelieving smile. his expression is utterly serious.

“wait, really?” there’s a certain amusement in your face that has jean shriveling up. he nods shamefully, head hanging low. his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach and feels his throat begin to burn.

you swallow, trying to keep your cool. letting out a shaky breath, you mumble, “in that case, i have some good news for you.”

he picks his head back up immediately. your cheeks are flushed, looking at him with eyes like crescent moons.

he’s grateful to find that it’s not because you’re laughing at him. you’re absolutely delighted, the urge to punch the air and jump off your feet filling your veins, the purest excitement in existence, you think.

you eat the last piece, licking the small crumbs off your thumb. you lean in, hoping he can’t hear the intense thumping of your heart against your ribcage.

your breath tickles the shell of his ear, muttering, “i’m kind of in love you, too.” the confession is a whisper in the night, meant only to be heard by him. his nerves turn hot.

“seriously?” he checks, eyes reading over your appearance to look for hints of dishonesty. he doesn’t find any.

“seriously.” you feel like a kid again, a giddy chortle bubbling from your throat. “i just... just thought it wasn’t possible.”

a comfortable silence ensues, aside from the occasional disbelieving chuckle. the birds are beginning to chirp, singing their songs to greet the rising sun beyond the horizon.

when the time comes for you to leave, you sit up and stretch out your stiff limbs. you gather your things, adjusting the hood around your neck. jean watches the whole time, absorbed in your movements.

you know you can’t just leave without a word. before you go, you bend over behind his chair until your face is next to his.

“thanks, jean,” you murmur, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. his stubble pokes against the cushion of your lips.

and then you’re off, lowering yourself down the ladder before he can even realize that you’ve kissed him. in your absence, he holds his fingertips to his cheek, still feeling the pressure of your lips there in shock.

he’s left with a distant smile on his face all day after, and the scouts don’t even have to ask to know why when they see the same damn look on yours.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 8

A/N: Part 8 is here lovelies! Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! 🖤🔮🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language

You and Zemo had sat there in silence in the green house for quite some time, watching the rain slowly die down. And though your eyes were focused on the rain, Zemo’s would occasionally leave the windows to glance at your profile, studying the features of your face and the scar that ran down your eye. It was then he noticed that you had a few others, like the smaller ones across your nose, eyebrow, and lip. These weren’t as prominent as the long one you had, they were older and starting to fade. Your cup was already empty while you stared out the glass windows. Your thoughts still dwelled on what Zemo had said to you earlier. As the sun’s rays started to peek out over the horizon, you let out a sigh, standing up as you did so. You needed to go outside and clear your mind.

“If you’ll excuse me. I should get dressed.” You spoke before leaving the glass room, your robe and nightgown flowing behind you as you went. Zemo watched you leave before getting up, taking the tray of the empty cups with him as he decided to get himself dressed as well.

You went back to your room to take a quick shower before grabbing some clothes from your closet to pack up. You threw on a black mock neck sweater and a pair of dark charcoal grey tweed pants along with your grey plaid blazer that had a black velvet collar. You stopped at your dresser and stared down at the intricate silver metal box that was tucked away in one of the drawers. You pulled it out, your fingers tracing along the floral and vine engraving before opening it. Inside the blue velvet lined box sat a silver necklace. Pulling the necklace out, you laid the pendant in the palm of your hand, it was a little crystal ball filled with tiny stars that had a silver tetrahedron point attached to the bottom of the sphere.

Your mother Asteria had given you this. Her being the goddess of shooting stars and nighttime divination such as oneiromancy and astrology, she had made this pendant for you and filled it with her favorite stars. And engraved on the bottom silver point were the words ‘For my favorite star of all. Love, your mother.’ Your heart sank at the words. She had made you this when you were little, to help you with your nightmares and when you had trouble sleeping. All you had to do was spin the sphere and watch the tiny night sky and shooting stars that were captured in it, and soon you would be fast asleep. The only reason you hadn’t used it, was because you would see your mother in your dreams. And though she had made it where she would be there to provide words of comfort, you couldn’t bear seeing her without breaking into tears. Wiping away the tear that slipped down your cheek you decided to put the necklace on anyways, looking in the mirror as it hung delicately under your collarbone, sparkling against the light in your room.

Lacing up your black docs and throwing your hair up in a braided low bun, you went downstairs and decided to head out to the stables as your dogs followed you out. You stopped by the kitchens on your way out, grabbing a big bag of some krystállinomílos, vegetables and a variety of peppers. You grabbed a few pieces of meat and tossed some to your dogs, laughing as they chowed it down eagerly. “I’ll be back pups.” After you exited the back entrance to your home and approached the stables, a smile broke out on your face as you saw your dark dappled grey Pegasus munching on some oats. Once she saw you she neighed in excitement, jumping around in her stall and stretching out her stormy grey wings.

“Thýella!” You beamed, stroking her forehead as you nuzzled your face against hers. “O pós mou leípeis! (Oh how I’ve missed you!)” You had always admired her and had her since you were but a small child back in Olympus. Zeus had given her to you on your birthday when she was merely a foal and you had named her Thýella, which translated to tempest since she reminded you of a storm. Her muzzle was black and faded to a grey as it went up her forehead. Her mane was jet black, and her tail started as black before fading to a white. Her body was a stormy grey with lighter colored spots throughout her coat before fading into black on her legs, save for her left legs that had a bit of white near her hooves.

“Páme gia mia vólta (Let’s go for a walk).” You told her as you set up her saddle and her reins before hoisting yourself on her back. You exited the stable, strolling through the green of your land as you headed towards the bigger stable you had. Getting off Thýella, you held her reins you stepped into the larger stable. As you peered into the wooden stalls you saw your dragon, his black, maroon red, and dark magenta scales rising and falling as he slept in his stall next to the pile of trinkets he has collected. You smiled once you saw him, he was a gift from your uncle Hades and you had him since he was a wee little dragon in his egg.

You creeped closer, hiding behind his stall before jumping out and scaring him. “Kólasi!”

Kólasi jolted awake, knocking his big horned head into the side of the stall before shaking it off. He stared at you with confusion in his fiery eyes, watching you giggle like you used to when you played with him as a child. He was surprised to see you here at first before squinting his large eyes at you and letting out a disgruntled huff as he turned his head away from you with his snout pointed in the air.

“Oh come on.” You teased. “Min eísai étsi (don’t be like that).” You stepped closer to him, stretching over to look in his eyes only to make him huff again as turned away even more. “Den mou leípses? (did you not miss me?)”

Kólasi side glanced at you, giving you a considering look before nuzzling your face since he was truly happy to see you again.

“Mou leípeis polý paliós fílos (I’ve missed you too old friend).” You chuckled as you scratched his head. “Éla. as páme éxo (Come. Let’s go outside).” You led them outside in the warm sunlight before plopping down on the grass with your bag of food. Kólasi sat down behind you, allowing you to lean back on him as his head craned around to face you. He lifted his wing up above you to provide some shade while you opened up your sacks of food. You handed over the krystállinomílos to Thýella and gave the meat, vegetables, and peppers to Kólasi. You grabbed a krystállinomílo for yourself, taking a bite out of the juicy fruit as you pondered on what the three were doing right now. They were most likely having breakfast since you informed Gudrun and the others to make something for them. You then wondered what they would think once they saw Kólasi and Thýella but decided not to dwell on it any longer since you knew there was only one reaction they would have, and it definitely wasn’t a positive one.

You felt Kólasi nudge his head against you, making you look at him. “Ti eínai aftó? (What is it?)” You watched as he nodded towards the sky and a smile appeared on your face. “I knew you’d say that. Éla Thýella. As páme na petáxoume. (Come Thýella. Let’s go fly.)” You went back into Kólasi’s stall, grabbing the special saddle you had made for him before going back outside and strapping it on his back. With a grunt, you climbed into his back, and considering he was about 16 to 18 feet tall standing on all fours, he always had to lower himself for you. Once you were situated and strapped onto the saddle, you held onto his neck as he flapped his dark red wings before taking off the ground. As you turned your head to look behind you, Thýella had just caught up with you and was flying beside you, your castle became smaller and smaller the higher up you went.

A smile was on your lips as you could see everything below you, relishing in the feeling of the wind against your cheeks as you went higher and higher until you could practically touch the clouds. With a small laugh, you stuck your hand out, feeling the whispy clouds slip through your fingers as Kólasi became level with the ground. Thýella stayed beside you, neighing happily as she soared through the sky. No matter how many times you’ve done this, it never got old. After a few rounds of gliding and loops, it was time you headed back home before Sam got worried. As Kólasi began to descend towards the earth you lowered your body to his neck, the wind picking up speed against you as you dived through the clouds. The clouds around you cleared up and you could see your castle in the distance below you, getting bigger and bigger. Kólasi slowed down as he neared the earth, pulling his body up as he and Thýella landed gracefully on the grass of your backyard.

“Theé mou to échasa (gods I’ve missed that).” You breathed out, your blood pumping with adrenaline from the rush you just had.

“Y/n?” You heard Sam call out for you, which made you curse under your breath.

It was too late now.

“Y/n?” Sam rounded the corner of your home and you saw his face turn into one of terror, his mouth and eyes wide as he tried to process what he was seeing. Bucky and Zemo shortly followed and they too mirrored Sam’s expression. “Is that a dragon or am I seeing shit now?”

“This is my dragon Kólasi, Sam. You’re not going crazy.”

“So......you have a dragon and a pegasus now?” Bucky asked you as he eyed Kólasi. Kólasi towered over the three, casting a large shadow over them as he huffed out smoke from his nostrils while a low growl emitted from his chest. He didn’t recognize any of them and they didn’t seem to be a threat, but with one command from you he would readily light them up in flames. You had noticed this uneasiness in your dragon so you scratched his neck, signaling him that they were most definitely not a threat.

“I’ve had them since I was a kid.” You answered Bucky’s question as Kólasi lowered himself to the ground, allowing you to get off the saddle. Giving Kólasi and Thýella a quick pat on their sides which meant they were free to go, you watched as they wandered off a bit before heading back into your home with the three following you in.

“Y/n isn’t he dangerous? Correct me if I’m wrong but don’t dragons breathe fire?” Sam questioned.

“Yes, they do. But trust me when I say that Kólasi is harmless. Now if you guys don’t mind, I just need to get a few things.”

Sam and Bucky decided not question on it any further, trusting your word, though the thought of you having a dragon still baffled them. They’ve read stories about knights and dragons and now were wondering if dragons really did roam the earth and whether knights had really slayed them. And though Zemo knew you meant what you said about about Kólasi being harmless, he knew that wasn’t entirely true and that you understood the limits to that harmlessness. But despite that, he trusted your word, because if you were wrong about your dragon, the earth would already have burned to nothing years ago.

The men had followed you into your library/study, watching as you went over to a certain section on the wall. You reached towards a candle sconce on the wall, pulling it down slightly before there was the sound of gears turning. Then, as they looked, a book shelf began to open up like a door, revealing a narrow stone staircase that spiraled down to who knows where.

“Of course you have a hidden passageway. Why am I surprised?” Sam uttered which made you glare at him.

“You’re welcome to follow me if you’d like, or you can stay out here, if you’re scared. And don’t touch anything.” You informed before disappearing down the staircase.

The men looked at each other before following you down anyways. At this point they didn’t know what they’d expect to find down there. They were curious as to why you didn’t bother bringing a candle with you down the dark staircase, but as they went in, they soon realized why. There were already candle sconces lining the wall of the staircase, and the candles would only light up as they neared, before going out as they passed it.

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, they found themselves in a spacious, enormous room, which you had used as an armory and a place to keep your artifacts. The walls were hung with weapons of many kinds from different eras. Armor and uniforms which you had worn from various time periods were displayed near the walls on mannequins, as well as different strange looking artifacts dating back to Ancient Egypt and the Sumerian civilization. In the center stood an open space with obstacles and devices which was where you trained in your combat. In the back of the room, down a corridor was where you had dungeons in case you ever needed them. Next to the dungeons was a laboratory, where you used to make potions and concoctions of different kinds. There were even old paintings of you from different eras, some of them were of just you, and some were of you and other people. But the biggest painting of them all hung in the middle, a painting of your whole family in Olympus. Off to the side, separate from the large room was your underground garage that opened up to your driveway. You owned a collection of many expensive classic vehicles, but the majority of them were classic muscle cars, which were always your favorites.

Bucky, Sam, and Zemo widened their eyes as they took everything in. Just when they thought they had seen everything, they had proved themselves wrong. Letting their feet guide them, they walked over to the paintings you had, staring at the large one in the center. Your father stood in the middle and above everyone else with Hera beside him and his lightning bolt clutched in his hand. On his side stood Poseidon with Amphitrite, and Hades with Persephone. Then there was you, wearing your mulberry purple chiton and deep blood/wine red chlamys with a breastplate over it. A diadem sat on your head and a dagger was strapped to your waist, while a sword and shield was held in your hands as you stood at Zeus’s feet with Athena and Artemis on either side of you. They men stared at the painting of you, you looked extremely regal yet powerful at the same time, an embodiment of a queen. The painting next to that one was of a beautiful looking women with stars in her eyes and hair, your mother. And on her lap sat you as a very young child, your eyes holding that same sparkle as your mother’s arms were wrapped gracefully around your body.

Sam glanced around the area once more before his eyes landed on a golden box that sat on a column pedestal. There was something intriguing about this certain thing and he seemed to be almost drawn to the box as he walked towards it. Bucky and Zemo noticed Sam’s slightly strange behavior, and as they looked to see what he was staring at, they too became transfixed, curious to know what the box was. As they got up close to it, they noticed there were these ghastly engravings of the macabre all over it, of tortured souls, demons, monsters, and evil spirits.

When you had walked back into the room with your bag of armor and weapons slung over your shoulder, your eyes widened at the sight of the men crowded around the gold box. Sam’s hand was reaching for it, about to open it until you screamed at them, rushing over to shove them away. “No! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

“Wha-what?” Bucky stuttered, shaking his head as he was brought out of the daze and so were the others.

“When I said don’t touch anything, I specifically meant ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING!”

“Wait, what the hell happened?” Sam asked, confusion written all over his face. Even Zemo had no idea what just occurred.

“That is Pandora’s box.”

“Pandora’s box?” Zemo tilted his head as he furrowed his brows.

“Yes Pandora’s box. Do you know what would have happened if you had succeeded in opening it?” You scolded them. “You would have unleashed all the evils into the world! There would have been complete chaos!”

“I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t know. We didn’t know.” Sam apologized, feeling guilty and terrified that he almost managed to open such a vile and dangerous little thing that had seemed so harmless at first.

“It’s fine.” You sighed. “I have what I need. Now let’s go before you guys try to touch another cursed artifact.”

Once you had your things and everything situated, you said farewell to Gudrun and Bjørn and the rest of the workers, giving them each a kiss on the cheek, their faces filled with disappointment in seeing you leave so soon. You said goodbye to Cerberus, Hecuba, Skiá, Thýella, and Kólasi as well, giving them each a hug. You sat there for a while, surrounded by your animals as they whimpered in sadness. With your final heartfelt goodbyes you left your home.

You walked over with the three trailing behind you to your 60s convertible black mustang with the white racing stripes that you had parked out front to drive to the nearest airport where Zemo’s jet would be waiting. After putting your bags and theirs in the trunk and closing it, you stared off at your home and the forest around it for one last time before your eyes caught the centaurs and satyrs that had neared the edge of the forest. You saw as they raised their hands to bid you farewell and luck on your journey, a warm smile formed on your face as you returned the gesture before hopping in the driver’s seat after the others. Making sure everyone had their seatbelts on, you turned your key in the ignition, the car rumbling to life from the sound of the engine that you always loved. Pressing your foot down on the accelerator, you drove off, watching the rear view mirror as your home got smaller and smaller the farther you drove away.

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky

[holykillercake]

Red String

𝕊ℍ𝔸ℕ𝕂𝕊 𝕏 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 2.8k

summary: You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory.

highlight:  ¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

warning: Look out for your arm, it might melt with the fluff.

notes: Hi, guys! This was an anon request for Shanks x Marine Reader. I was given the freedom to write whatever I wanted, so I hope you guys like it! <3 Dear, anon, I apologize for the time it took and I hope you read it! 

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨I have to say, not a usual place for a Vice Admiral to enjoy a vacation.¨ a smirk bent your lips as you heard the playful voice of the man who courted you with another drink. 

¨Well, I´m no usual Vice Admiral.¨

¨No one doubts that.¨ He put the sword on the table and pulled a chair, sitting close to you. ¨You have grown, Y/N.¨

¨You have aged.¨

¨Oi, not very nice. You hurt my feelings.¨ the red-haired placed the hand on his chest, over the heart, faking an offended tone. 

¨Mission accomplished.¨ 

You stared at each other for about four seconds before breaking into laughter. As always, Shanks was louder, banging his fist on the wooden table and vocalizing his amusement to anyone who had ears to hear. 

¨It´s been a long time, Y/N.¨ he wheezed, still recovering from his overreaction.

¨Yes, it has, Red hair.¨

¨Red hair? Really? I mean, you tried to kill me way too many times already. You gotta call me by my name.¨ You chuckled, sipping your drink. ¨Especially when you´re at my house.¨

You grinned, shaking your head and biting your lip. Of course, the bastard would not let this opportunity slip. 

After years of non-stop hard work, you received a few weeks off duty. That meant that the world could split open, the moons could fall into the atmosphere followed by the sun, and you would not have to move a single finger.  

Issho-san would handle that better in any way. 

You had any place in the world to moor, a stable and safe summer paradise somewhere in the South Blue, or you could visit the winter island where cherry blossoms painted the freezing horizon pink. The world was on the menu, and yet you chose to break into a Yonko territory. 

However, the Yonko in question was more than just an Emperor of the Sea. Your lives entangled at a very young age when the Pirate King was still alive, and Garp had melanin left in his hair. 

You were just two snotty brats fighting your Captains´ battles. 

¨Anyway,¨ he chugged his drink and asked for another one. ¨I missed you in Marineford.¨ 

¨Well, I guess I missed Marineford myself. Had a good view, though.¨ you answered nonchalantly. 

¨What do you mean?¨

¨I had an underling transmit me the whole thing.¨

¨Isn´t that handy?¨

You tried not to laugh. It was stupid, but every time you had Shanks and hand in the same sentence, you felt the urge to laugh.

¨I wanted to see Luffy.¨ you said.

¨Why not go there, then?¨

¨Duty called somewhere else.¨ you shrugged. ¨Besides, I would have been no help for him.¨

¨You´re saying you wouldn´t help him?¨ Shanks carried a suspicious tone in his voice.

¨Of course I wouldn't help him.¨ You took a sip of your drink. ¨But thanks... for stopping that madness.¨ 

The man casually stretched his arms above his head, tilting his head back, enjoying the warm sun.

¨No biggie. You owe me another one, and we should be fine.¨ he smiled.

¨Who´s counting?¨

¨I am.¨ 

¨I already stopped hunting you, Shanks. Isn´t that enough?¨

¨Not on my book, Y/N.¨

For a long portion of your life, you had a personal mission to give the Red Hair the same fate as his Captain. Whenever his crew was located, you would be the one hunting them. No one dared to tell you otherwise. 

By that time, you had no significant position. Maybe a Lieutenant, Captain tops. But being related to the Hero of the Marines, well, that granted you some free passes, and as long as you could hand Shanks´head in a tray, a little nepotism didn´t bother you. 

Actually, although everyone saw you as Garp´s relative, you were just his first protegé, his first rescued dog. Apparently, the highly ranked officers were going through boring times and decided to pay their dues by doing charity.

The only one you got to know was Sengoku´s kid. Rosinante was his name. To this very day, you could not think of him without the twist in your heart. 

Even you didn´t know how to describe it, and honestly, you didn´t care. Was the job done at the end of the day? Good. 

That was all that mattered until another pawn entered the game, a very troublesome one, by the way. Slept like a rock and ate all your food. You couldn´t help but fall in love with little Monkey D. Luffy. 

He was the one to give you the answer you had stopped looking for a while ago.

In order to be his older sister, you had to be Garp´s granddaughter. Everyone loved the idea, except for the man himself. 

You were as keen as Garp to make Luffy become a great Marine. You bought him tailor-made marine onesies and shared stories about the seas. Whenever he spotted you approaching with the leather book in your hands, he would get restless. 

The onesies, however, those never lasted. They were thrown in a boiling dumpster altogether with your dream of him joining you in a job one day.

The sun was about to set, and you had just returned from a long and intricate mission when you received a call from Makino saying that Luffy had gotten into some trouble. 

Not only that, The Red Hair Pirates were somehow involved. It was all you heard before hanging off the den den mushi and hopping in a Marine ship, headed to Foosha Village.  

The idea of Shanks causing Luffy any pain or just giving him a hard time made you turn into a beast. But your bloodshot eyes were washed clean by the image of your brother, safe and sound, hanging out with Red Hair, who seemed rather... different. 

¨Why would you do that?! What do you want, Red Hair?!¨ 

A lot of things went through your head, but none of them could explain why a pirate, why him, would sacrifice his arm to save Luffy. There was no way he didn´t know about your little brother´s connections. 

¨I want to pay you a drink. But only if you stop yelling.¨ 

With a swing of his hand and a smile, Makino appeared with a jug of beer before you could spit fire on him again. 

¨They´ve been really good at keeping Luffy entertained this past year, Y/N-san.¨ she said, kind as usual, before leaving.

You sighed and took a seat by his side. 

¨Why did you do that?¨

¨I bet on his life. Just that. Why is that a problem? You don´t want to feel grateful for a pirate?¨ 

Your grip tightened around the cold glass, teeth clenching and knuckles turning white. 

¨No.¨

Gratitude was never the problem. You would be grateful to anyone who risked their lives for Luffy, but he... you needed to hate him. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn´t get yourself to do it. 

¨I don´t want you thinking that I owe you anything.¨

¨You don´t have to owe me anything, Y/N. But we´ve known each other for a while now, so... we both know that you will.¨ 

His lips turned into an honest smile, no teasing behind it, and you wished not to have your heart beating faster for it. 

¨You don´t kn-¨

¨Y/N!¨ Luffy entered the bar, running to you with the brightest of the smiles on his face.¨Are you done? I have to show you something!¨ he asked, pulling the fabric of your coat.

¨Oi, behave Luffy, I´ll be done in-¨

¨Nooo!¨ he pouted before turning to the opposite side and pulling one of his impish grins ¨Look what I can do! Gomu gomu no...¨ 

His tiny hand balled into a fist, which you watched stretch all the way to the opposite side of the room before coming back and hitting him in the face. 

Did his arm just...      

The air froze in the room. You blinked a couple of times, hearing a few gasps around the bar, your gaze fixed in the same place his hand was seconds ago.

¨Luffy-kun, why don´t you come outside with me?¨ Makino extended her hand for him to take. ¨I´ll bring some meat.¨

The kid screamed in excitement and followed her, drool dripping down his chin. 

So close, Shanks. So close. He thought, lowering his head on the counter and waiting to get chewed up. However, after a few unscathed seconds, the red-haired lifted his head, almost not believe his eyes. 

That was the first and last time you bowed to a pirate. 

Of course, later on, you punched him for letting Luffy eat a Devil Fruit. 

You swore to leave him and his crew alone, as long as they did not cause bigger problems, which they eventually did, but you had a debt you could never pay, and you ended up focusing on other things. 

Those things made it difficult for you to visit Luffy as much as you wanted, but since Garp had sent him to live with Dadan, you could sleep with a clean consciousness. 

Whenever you paid him visits, he would tell you about these other kids, whom he considered brothers. One you got to meet, Sabo, smart and polite. The other, however, ran from you like you were a freaking plague. 

Ace, another one with whom you had an inestimable debt. 

¨Humor me, Y/N. If not Foosha, why here?¨

You shrugged.

¨I was passing by, and the place seemed quite enjoyable.¨ 

¨Hm.¨ the wind blew stronger, turning the gentle swishing of the palm trees into a harsher rustling. ¨Should I get my men ready for a conflict?¨

¨Relax, Shanks. Right now, this is the safest place on earth.¨

¨What do you mean?¨ he asked, genuinely curious. 

¨Oh, come on.¨ you scoffed. ¨Not even the World Government will try to put their hands on you, and I´ll kill anyone who dares to ruin my vacation.¨

¨What about you, Y/N? Will you try to put your hands on me?¨ 

His gaze was heavy on you, conquering aura filling the place. You looked at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk growing on your lips. 

This guy...

You harnessed the moment to take in his features, a lot more mature than you remembered. Although the scars were deeper and he seemed more tired, his hair shone like fresh blood, and his eyes... you were afraid to drown in them. 

¨What would you do if I decided to put my hands on you?¨ you bit your lip. ¨I heard you´ve been terrorizing some kids lately.¨

¨Gotta give them a run for their bounties, right?¨ He laughed. ¨But I also heard some interesting things about you, Y/N.¨

You raised your eyebrows as if you were encouraging him to tell you more. 

¨Apparently, I´m not the only one spending recreational time with young pirates. And there I thought Marines weren´t supposed to hunt Warlords of the Sea.¨

A shiver ran down your body, already aware of the subject he was about to bring up.

¨Well, I have no idea what you´re talking about.¨ You said, giving him your best oblivious eyelash bat. 

¨Oh yeah? Because it was brought to my attention that you made some business with... what´s his name again?¨ he pretended exaggeratedly to think about it ¨Ah, Trafalgar Law.¨

¨Only time I spoke to him, he was a Warlord as well. And I just wanted to thank him for helping Luffy in Marineford.¨

¨You´re gonna start lying to me at this point of our relationship?¨ Shanks teased to eager a bit of the tension, and a scoff left your mouth.

¨First, you´re delusional. Second, you´re too nosey for your own good.¨ 

The two of you laughed along like you were not natural enemies.

¨Did you get to meet Luffy in Dressrosa? Heard they made an alliance.¨

¨Hm, yeah. But no, couldn´t get myself to do it.¨

You frowned, hurting for have had your little brother so close but not being brave enough to approach him. Good thing he had no idea about your presence in the scene, and you could trust Law´s discretion to keep it that way. 

¨He doesn´t hate you, you know.¨

¨Yeah, I know...¨

That was true. Luffy didn´t hate you for not helping him in Marienford, just like he didn´t hate Garp for standing in his way. He had too big of a heart for that. 

Shanks let you have your time in silence, empathizing with your feelings. He too had to make sacrifices by standing his ground before.

¨What now?¨ he asked.

¨What now?¨ 

¨Garp is retired. Joker is down. What´s holding you back?¨

The air got stuck in your lungs. The reality you had been running from, the question for which you postponed to find an answer. 

When Garp took you in, the alternatives available for you were restricted, to say the very least. It was either accept the kindness of a stranger or die. He taught you his trade and molded you into one of the best-skilled marines. 

As the time passed and you learned the ugly truth behind the World Government, the disgust and disbelief made you want to leave. Fortunately, your life was not stained by the passage of a Celestial Dragon, but how were you supposed to protect them, aware of the atrocities they afflicted to people?

At the same time, how could you leave Garp after everything he did for you? Of course, he would survive if you disappointed him that much, but you owed him your life. 

What made you stay, however, was something much less pleasant than a lifetime debt. Thirteen years ago, evil prevailed, and you lost something really important. Or rather, someone. 

Commander Donquixote Rosinante. Marine code 01746. 

He had a sense of justice like no one else. He was strong, honest, and fair. Did he make you want to pull your hair out every time he lit himself on fire? Yes. Did it bother you to have stains on your tatami because he dropped hot tea on it? Yes. He possessed the ability to get you on your nerves, but he was your family. 

You were supposed to be the greatest. 

Long story short, that night, at Swallow Island, you left with more than just his dead body. You inherited his will. 

You swore to take down the man responsible for shortening his life, and hopefully, in a later day, you could meet the little boy about whom he spoke so highly. 

It took you thirteen years. No more ties of the past, no more strings on you. 

Well, just one, if you were to be entirely honest with yourself. A string of a stupid tale, a nonsense legend, a foolish myth. The Thread of Destiny, supposed to connect two people together. They say the thread may stretch or tangle, but it shall never break. 

Bullshit. There´s no such a thing. 

But assuming that there was, why did you feel that if you pulled it to its very end, what you would find would be red as well? 

Red as the vest Luffy wore diligently; red as the nose of a cranky apprentice; red as the pompous sails of the Oro Jackson; red as the locks of the man capable of stopping wars with words.

Would you dare to be anything else? Could you step out of your own life like this? Could you abandon everything you fought for all these years? 

¨You know, I´ve said it in the past, but I´ll say it again. We could use someone like you in our crew.¨ 

You gave him a two-second smirky scoff before frowning again. 

Were you worthy enough to owe yourself the chance to choose? What did it mean, the justice coat of a Vice Admiral you carried so proud on your shoulders?

If piracy took a lot from you in the past, could piracy, or a pirate, give you everything back? 

¨Y/N?¨

¨Hm?¨ You hummed, gaze locked on the lethargic view. 

Hot puffs of air played with your hair and involved your skin in a warm hug. You could hear the gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore, coastal birds cooing and the wind whistling over the rocks. 

¨Do you think, maybe, one day... I could ask you out?¨

No matter how many times you rewound the tape, you couldn´t find a different answer, a plausible reason for the burning feeling you held for him, whatever that meant. 

From the first time you put your eyes on each other, a contract was opened without even a handshake. A deal was set without your acknowledgment. An ironic fate tied you to the same string. 

¨Yeah... maybe.¨

[mandalorewhore]

Two Steps Ahead

PART THREE OF HUNTER (formerly hunter and prey)

gif by @princessxkenobi

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Fighting as Foreplay, Rough Sex, Penetrative Sex(PIV), Unprotected Sex, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Top Mando, Sub/Dom elements, Very slight Pain Kink, possible CNC elements although I didn’t write that I also want to warn anyone who doesn’t want to read about rough sex with physical fighting as foreplay Words: 6.9k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando start tracking their first bounty together

A/N: i believe things are happening...interesting

***

 “I feel like you have a distinct advantage here.” A bead of sweat drips over your brow as you mop at your sweltering forehead in irritation. Your temple throbs as you press on it, pain shooting down your neck at the pressure.

       It’s so fucking humid here. You’re tracking one of Mando’s bail jumpers in the middle of a boggy swamp planet that you never caught the name of and you’ve been walking through the forest for at least 24 hours, only stopping for water and ration breaks. Based on the holo-map you’re currently staring at, this entire planet is one big swamp, with no escape from the damp, sticky environment.

 The thing barely makes sense, a jumble of colors and shapes that worsens your headache the longer you try to figure it out. You had borrowed a thin shirt from Mando before setting out, but it does little to protect you from the buzzing swarms of insects, while at the same time it reflects just enough heat to have you sweltering.

 Mando acts unbothered under all that padding and armor, trekking through the trees without any visible sign of struggle. You don’t understand how he can stay awake for so long without caf, yourself being covered in caf-patches to keep from passing out. It’s probably somewhat dangerous to have so much of the stimulant coursing through your veins, but oh well. If my heart gives out then at least I’ll escape the bugs.  

       “Footprints aren’t the only way to track a quarry.” He returns mildly, moving swiftly over tangled tree-roots to avoid the pools of murky water that litter the forest floor. You move with less grace behind him, trying to climb slippery wood and juggle the holo at the same time. The twisted trees of this planet seem to reach inward to point at the forest floor, giving you the impression of being trapped within their clutches. The eerie feeling isn’t helped by the distinct lack of light, odd lichen tendrils drape between branches to create a blanket that absorbs most natural light from the sky. A faint glow emanates from the tendrils, basking the forest with ghostly illumination. You scramble to the top of the particularly tall root he’s perched on then plop down to catch your breath.

       “No, it’s not the only way,” you pause to take a swig from your water skin, dabbing off the spilled drops from your chin with your sleeve, “but the footprints      you    track are apparently all glowy and red. I get to look with my naked eyes for shit like depressions in the ground, which is so fun considering the only paths here are solid wood.”

       Mando rolls his helmet on his shoulders, the effect similar to someone rolling their eyes. When he speaks it’s short and gruff, annoyed by your attitude. Which is… appropriate. The hours you’ve spent walking in this heat together is starting to snap both of your tempers. “Stop complaining.”

 He’s not wrong about the footprints. You’re mostly annoyed because of how useless you feel, more like you’re tagging along than assisting him on the hunt. Drawing your eyebrows together you try to come up with a plan. Most of those mercenary skills you talked up for Karga don’t apply here, this naturalistic setting is too messy and... wild. Unpredictable. You’re used to the structure that comes with starships and cities, places engineered and civilized.

 Tracking people isn’t very hard, you’ve done it plenty of times before. The only issue is that all of your practice came from environments where they left clear signs of direction, displaced gravel indicating a shoe-print, broken branches, a trail in sand. It also helps that your targets didn’t know they were being stalked. The only path here is over hard wooden tree roots, with nothing to indicate direction, not even moss grows over the foot trail for traveling feet to mark. You take in a deep breath and hold it for several seconds before letting out all your air in one huge swoop.

       “I’m sorry, “ you tell him sincerely, “I want to help you -and not just for a bigger cut. Is there anything I can do?” You truly do feel bad for snapping at him even if you know you’re right about his advantage. Just because you don’t have fancy thermal settings and footprint tracking doesn’t mean you’re useless. The Mandalorian settles his hands on his hips and surveys the area, looking for a task to assign you. His helmet tilts up and lingers on the trees, and you’re already two steps ahead before he can voice his idea.

       “I can climb,” you interject, standing up swiftly and moving. “Trees can’t be more slippery than a spacecraft.”

       He nods in acknowledgment. “Find something and your cut goes up by five percent.”

       “Ten percent.” You grin at him cheekily, wanting to tease him even if he won’t give it to you.

       “Eight, if you find somewhere to camp.”

       “Deal.” You return, already halfway to the widest tree you can reach without getting your feet wet. The trunk is covered in knots and twisted vines, ugly but providing fantastic handholds for your hands and feet. Grabbing hold of a sturdy looking ledge you begin your ascent.

 The climb is fairly easy even with the woods damp surface, and you reach the forest canopy with minimal effort. Carefully squirreling around the thin top-most branches you attempt to find a break-through point, the wood beneath you bowing a little from your weight.

 When you finally poke your head through and see the sky you gasp, taken aback by the sight. You hadn’t hung around in the cockpit during landing, instead choosing to pack the bags while Mando skillfully piloted his ship. The forest floor is all you’ve seen of the planet and apparently you’ve missed a lot.

       The sky here is beautiful, a color palette that is completely opposite from the dark, damp underbelly of the forest ground. Swirling aquamarine clouds float lazily in the sky, speckling the orange hued atmosphere above you. There are at least 6 pale moons lined up on the horizon from edge to edge, stars twinkling around each orb as if drawn to their orbit. You drink in the sight greedily, the ache in your head lessening in the natural light. This is      so     much better than the cold stark metal of space stations that you’re used to living on.

 It’s hard to tell the time based on the sky alone, the moons must be constantly present in the sky no matter the time of day and you can’t find a single sun. Maybe this planet lives off the light and heat from each moon, reflected from a distant star? The thought is lovely but you don’t think it’s possible. You file the image away for your daydreams then divert your eyes back to the thick forest, searching for anything useful to tell Mando.

       The line of trees is unbroken, a sea of dark green leaves and glowing lichen. An orange sky helps to warm up the pale glow from the lichen but it’s eeriness still sends a shiver through you. Everything on the horizon is of even height, betraying nothing within its depths. It isn’t ideal. You gnaw your lip anxiously, dreading to return to Mando without any information especially on your first hunt together. Eyes flitting around desperately, you try to analyze any possible breaks in the natural pattern of trees.

     Could that be a settlement there? You think, looking at a slightly thinner section of forest that might roughly be three miles away. You aren’t sure about the planet’s curvature and how flat the terrain is so you double check the holo, looking for the information.

 Something catches your eye as you’re pulling up the data, just substantial enough in your peripheral version that you stop what you’re doing. There is a mist rising from that thinned area, far enough away that you mistook it as some sort of lighting effect from the overwhelming color palette here. That has to be steam right? It’s too thick to be naturally occurring from the bog. There must be machinery over there. A settlement hopefully.

 You’re about to climb down when you pause, looking at the still lit holo with renewed curiosity. Something about the map visually paired with your clear view of the forest allows the pieces to fall in place. When you compare the shape of the map to the trees you’re finally able to make sense of what you previously thought was a topographical mess. A built pathway lies here, a body of water there. And clearings. Several clearings not too far from where you are now, the perfect size to settle down in. Hopefully they’re dry.

 Either the caf-patches are finally sending you into cardiac arrest or you’re manically happy to finally be of help to your hunting partner, but either way, you’re grinning so widely that your teeth clatter together.

 “Hey Mando! Guess what you owe me?” You shout down at the ground, beginning to descend. You’re so excited that you practically slide down the vines, jumping to the ground when you’re several feet high in the air, sore muscles creaking at the impact. The Mandalorian is sitting now, resting with his elbow propped on his knee while he waited for you to come back. There’s a soft pang in your chest and you wonder if he’s tired. You brush it off, feeling as though you’re just projecting, and instead grin widely at him in triumph. “7 percent increase for me!”

 He lifts his helmet and looks you up and down. “What did you find?”

 You reply chirpily, hands grasped behind your back and shit-eating grin still plastered on your face. “There is a settlement of some kind roughly three miles that way,” you point in the direction where you saw the steam, “and several clearings nearby suitable to camp in, if we don’t want to head in right away. Oh, also we aren’t on the actual path used by locals here, the asset must be making an effort to hide.”

 “That isn’t very smart of them,” Din observes, shaking his head at the concept. “Busy path hides more prints.”

 “Hm…” You take that in, wondering what other techniques a quarry may use to shake its hunter.

 It occurs to you that there is a lot you could learn from the Mandalorian, since so far hunting someone has been notably different from your mercenary missions. You’ll find a moment to ask questions later once you’re settled down for the night, wherever that’ll be. “Do you want to camp or find the maybe-settlement?”

 “We should camp,” he responds immediately, rising from his seated position and walking closer to you, “we don’t know what we’ll face there. You can choose the area, since you climbed the tree.”

 You pull up the holo-map again and zoom in on the different options, feeling far more energized now that you actually know what you’re doing. There are two spots that seem encouraging, both a short hike away from where you are now but removed enough to grant you some privacy. You’ll still need to set up a watch to prevent ambush or stray travelers from finding you but it’ll be easier if you make an effort to hide. One of the clearings seems to have a running water source, you hope it’s cleaner than the still-water you’re currently surrounded by. Maybe you can bathe there too.

 “Lets go here,” you pull up the coordinates for Mando, “that looks like a stream, right?”

 He leans into your body for a closer look, broad chest just brushing against you in a way that sends flutters through your tummy. You know he can zoom in with his visor, there is no reason he needs to be so close to you except for your benefit. He seems to enjoy messing with you like this, throwing you off with unexpected touches, looks, and gestures. It’s like a game he plays and you’d be far more annoyed by his teases if it wasn’t so exciting.

 “Looks good,” he rumbles low in his chest. “Fresh water would be nice.”

 Your heart quickens, but you tried to hide your reaction by teasing him back, tapping your fingers on his helm and stepping away. “I was hoping to clean myself up, actually…”

 Mando straightens up at this, visor locked on your face.

 “Lead the way.” He returns quietly, giving away nothing. Trying not to smile, you start off in the direction of the clearing, for once moving faster than your armored companion.

 Your goal isn’t very far, only about 3 miles north of your previous position and a mile adjacent to the settlement you’ll pay a visit to tomorrow. Large, fuzzy fronds of an alien fern droop down the sides of the hollow clearing, providing a barrier between the forest and empty space in between. The trees still tangle above the open area, blocking out part of the beautiful sky, save a few of the large moons, and old pieces of charcoal are ground into the sandy earth here, a sight that makes you a little anxious. This spot must be used by others, you’ll have to be more careful with setting up the watch than expected.

 The water source turns out to be a small spring set on the edge of a cliff at the far end of the clearing, a sizable waterfall cascading down the side and gathering in a crystalline pool. Skipping ahead of Mando to the edge of the pool you crouch and dip your fingers in the cool water, sighing in relief as it relieves some of the warmth in your overheated body.

 You’re unable to hear Mando’s approach - how he is so stealthy under 50 pounds of metal escapes you, but you feel him behind you. You smirk. Arching your back as you rise, you turn around slowly and begin to make eyes in his direction however, when you actually see what he's doing, you cringe at yourself in embarrassment. He’s not looking like you assumed, instead he is surveying the clearing skeptically, body-language imbued with disapproval. Your heart simultaneously sinks to your stomach and contracts in frustration. You thought you had finally done something right.

 “What? Is something wrong?” You ask him tightly, subtly shrinking in on yourself in disappointment. You try to hide this by fiddling idly with a stray thread on your tunic, stubbornly keeping your head lifted high despite wishing you could disappear. He doesn’t respond right away, instead turning and walking the length of the clearing then back, stopping just in front of you sharply. You meet his visor with your eyes, holding the look until you feel like you’re burning up in shame from the pressure of it.

 “It’s too… open,” he finally says, voice halting as he tries to find the correct words. “Anyone could walk into our camp.”

 “I figured we’d set up a watch. There’s only one entrance-”

 He interrupts you. “One ground entrance. Anyone can climb down from the trees.”

 “Maybe, but this planet isn’t supposed to be dangerous, is it? Practically abandoned,” You huff out, fists clenching at your sides as you argue with him. “Besides. It’s… pretty here.”

 The Mandalorian sighs, pinching the helmet just below the visor where his nose bridge would be. “Fine. I’ll take the first watch. No fire.”

 Nodding in response, you cross the clearing and set your bag down on a log, letting out a sigh in relief. That’s fine by you, you don’t need the extra warmth and the glowing lichen provides enough light to get by. You really did not want to hike again after moving for 24 hours straight. Mando mirrors your movements, leaning his rifle next to your pack before settling on the sandy earth. A loaded pause passes between you, earlier implications at the forefront of your minds.

 Letting out a shuddering breath you crouch down and pull your old tunic from your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way back to the small pond. The water is completely clear, an inviting sight after the marshy puddles that made up the forest ground on your way here. You’re facing the water now but you’re still well aware of the man behind you, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the impassive visor. The invitation is clear. Take it off.  

 But you aren’t sure if you want to give him that yet. The exhaustion from today has wrung you dry, small bickerings between you and your work partner dampening the sweet mood leftover from Nevarro. Apologizing with sex isn’t really your thing. You’d rather stoke the mutual respect between you as allies instead of start up a pattern of fighting then making up.

 You crouch at the water's edge, peering into the depths for a moment before splashing your face with cold water, fresh scar throbbing as blood rushes to the surface of your face. The spare tunic you grabbed just brushes the surface of the water, sending ripples throughout your reflection. Curious, you lean over and observe the way the mirror-like pond breaks off into fragments, bits of you here and there mixing in with the moons that lay on russet sky.

     Like a painting. You think in awe, having only seen a couple of the artifacts in person. The richest target you were assigned to owned two pieces of art, real paintings on real paper, encased in transparisteel viewing cases before you smashed open the backing to wonder at them. You close your eyes and try to recall the texture of the paint before the rest of your memory catches up and sours the whole thing. The man's home had to be burned in order to erase evidence, his paintings too large to smuggle out of the city.

 When you open your eyes the pond has settled with your reflection only- you’re not alone.

 “Maker!” You jump at the sight of the Mandalorians gleaming helmet appearing in the reflection. “What the fuck, you sneak.”

 He just chuckles in response and offers you a hand, which you take firmly while rolling your eyes and standing. He leads you back to sit with him on the sandy earth, taking ration bars out of his pack- not yours, and breaking them evenly between you. The gesture is surprisingly tender and none too appreciated what with your stomach growling audibly at the bland meal. All at once, you are reminded by the spattering of caf-patches on your limbs, the jitteriness becoming more apparent now that you’re finally still. You’re shaking. Mando notices as well.

 “You may explode.” He remarks, prompting you to start pulling off the stimulant, crumpling each piece and setting them neatly in a pile at your knee.

 “Good, let me explode. You’re too bossy to work with.” You return with a smirk, hoping your sarcasm lands. He hums in response, pulling one of the patches off of your forearm and flicking it in your direction for you to catch.

 Tutting, you roll the patch into a ball and set it at the top of your pile. “Don’t leave a mess, this forest is ugly but at least it’s untouched,” you tell him firmly. Mando just nods.

 The ration bars are hardly a delicacy but you shove them in your mouth all the same, appreciating the engineering behind them. They are so calorie rich that a piece the size of your palm can keep you going for hours. However, your body can’t seem to relax despite the food lining your belly- perhaps you actually overdid the caf. You should be tired right now. Staying awake for more than a day isn’t exactly the average schedule but your knee bounces uncontrollably in a frantic pattern, stirring up puffs of sand between you and the warrior.

 “You need to tire.” Mando mutters, firmly placing a glove on your thigh and holding the limb down. “Stop that.”

 “Sorry,” you reply, trying to freeze yourself and sit as still as he does. Mando always exists so sagely, like a monk. Completely calm when he wants to be before exploding into action, no warm-up necessary. You wonder if he had some sort of meditation training to achieve that. Is that why he sits like that in the cockpit, his back rod straight like a statue? Weirdo.

 “Hey…” The palm at your thigh presses again and you suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t even realize you were twitching again. “Do I have to hold you down?” He growls.

 You gulp. “Tempting. But no.” Your words come out steadier than you feel. The caf becomes all too much in that moment so you lurch to your feet, his gleaming helmet following your body as it rises jerkily. You feel far too energetic, needing to get the energy out somehow so you can finally pass out. Your idea leaves your mouth before you can truly think it over.

 “Wanna fight?”

 “...What?” Mando sounds truly surprised even if his body betrays nothing.

 “You heard me,” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, swaying back and forth like a green sailor on the oceans of Mon Cala. “Let's practice our combat, I rarely get to do that.”

 He’s standing before you can blink causing you to jerk back, startled by his speed. The Mandalorian poses right in front of you, too close to not be a challenge with his weight settled on one leg breezily.

 “Okay. Hit me.”

     What a taunting mother fu-  You swing your left hand out as if aiming for the unarmored spot on his ribs, which he blocks with ease… leaving his throat open for your right fist to sharply jab.

 The bounty hunter doubles over, coughing and clutching his neck with one hand.

 “O-Oh shit! I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean, let me-” You scramble with lost movements, trying and failing to help him straighten upright. It leaves you awkwardly placing your palms on his back while the crown of his helmet presses into your belly. “I, um… Mando?”

 His arms wrap around your middle in a flash, pulling you tightly against his chest and throwing both your bodies to the ground. It happens so fast that you can’t even shriek before the air is knocked out of you, hitting the sand hard enough to throw it into the air around you. Gasping, you smack full force at the Mandalorian on top of you, his arms still crushing you against him while your legs lock straight together with his knees on either side. It’s sexy, but you’d really like to breathe. He lets up just barely.

 “Nice punch,” he rasps, throat clearly affected by the hit. “Don’t think I’ll hold back after that though.”

 “Don’t… want… you to…” You shoot back at him, sharp as you can manage while wheezing. Mandos visor raises ever so slowly and pins you, hidden eyes holding you down more effectively than his body. After a drawn out moment of this, your head spinning as you calculate your escape strategy, he crawls up your body to prop himself above you, locking your wrists in one large hand with the other presses against your chest, shoving your back into the earth. It is just enough pressure to squeeze some air out of your lungs and it is then when you know he isn’t kidding about not holding back.

 You’re so fucking happy that he isn’t letting you win.

 In other instances, you’d panic at the hopeless feeling of being trapped like this, by someone twice your size and clad in the galaxy’s most powerful steel. But the way he spars with you now, full force and not playing easy... it has implied respect for your skill. He knows you can fight and doesn’t spare you the opportunity to prove it.

 Only a second or two has passed since he fully immobilized you and you’re still locked in your flattened position. When he motions to stand, pulling your wrists as if to drag you, you know you must make your move now or it will be too late. The only spot he has open on his body right now is… well, right between his legs. The first thing a smaller fighter learns about combating larger foes is to fight dirty and there is no reason you should hold back if Mando isn’t. Your legs had been pinned tightly together before he moved to drag you but now there is just enough room to swing a knee up and hit him between the legs.

 Mando doesn’t wear a full codpiece but luckily for you, the padding on his groin isn’t enough to block your kick. A choked sound rips out of his throat and he falls to one knee, the fingers encircling your wrists loosening slightly while he struggles to fight his body’s natural pain response. You wrench one hand free and use it to grip his cowled neckline, planting your feet against his cuirass and swinging yourself into a hanging position before his grip tightens again. He's steady but you try to dig your feet in to throw him forward, hoping to twist around and land on his back with his face down. He totters for one frozen second, both your bodies on the precipice of falling but unfortunately, he manages to wrench himself backwards and land heavily on his back with you on top.

 You’re both gasping and groaning at the shock of hitting the ground so hard, and for one breathless moment all you do is stare heatedly at each other on the forest floor, eyes locking through his visor and somehow you know he is grinning.

 His smile mirrors on your face when you feel his hands rip at your clothes, wrenching the thin pants off of you down to your thighs forcefully enough to knock your legs together with a dull thud.

 “Did I not just kick you in the dick, Mando?” You laugh, working at his belt at the same time. He palms your ass through your underwear greedily, squeezing so hard that you know finger shaped bruises will blossom there.

 “You missed.”

 “Must’ve hurt either way…” You mutter, finally managing to reach under his thick layers and wrap your hand around his length, producing a low growl from the man beneath you. “Maybe, it's good I missed.”

 The only response you get is his hands pulling both your hands to lay on his chest plate then traveling back down your body to tug aside your underwear and grind you down onto his hips, rubbing your now bare slit against his bulge. You vaguely remember deciding against coming onto him as a form of apology, but for some reason, since he started first that all ceases to matter. It feels like a game you’ve begun to play with each other, playing with the tension between you and the Mandalorian until you find out what breaks your resolve. Maybe it started even before you entered this forest, perhaps back on Nevarro or even on the station.

 You can’t tell but you don’t want to question it either.

 A moan falls from your throat, your hands moving on their own volition to try and remove his belt entirely, or at least enough to pull his cock out. Mando’s glove flashes up again to circle your wrists, immobilizing them and harshly pinning you down with his vambrace lain across your back.

 “You yield?” He asks, voice dripping with a sickly triumph. A chill runs down your back and you feel as if he just dunked you into the pond.

 “W-What?”

 “You yield… I win?”

 “Wha- No!” You cry out indignantly, struggling against his iron grip. “I didn’t realize we were still sparring!”

 He laughs, fully bodied and dark with some emotion that swirls deep within your core, and you can’t put your finger on it exactly but you know you’ll have to do something before you’re swept up entirely. “Oh, but we are. What shall the winner gain?” He asks, so quietly that it is almost lost in the warped modulator, barely a question and more so a crackling of static.

 Fuck, you’re so wet.

 You lick your lips and shakily respond. “I am not one to give up, however-”

 “Then don’t. Keep fighting.”

 Oh, and you love what he implies. There is no reason to argue further and less time to act, so you immediately struggle hard with the upper half of your body, wrenching your wrists to try and distract him from the way your legs are free to swing into his ribs. But Mando doesn’t fall for your feint a second time. In fact, he seems to have expected it, his leg is more than prepared to hook around the back of your knees and hold you against his body, rolling to the side to throw you underneath him.

 You’re pinned on your back with nearly his full weight, unable to do more than weakly punch at what you can reach- unfortunately for you all you can reach is armor. Your cry of anger is cut short when Mando flips onto your front, your chest pressed roughly to the floor of the forest.

 The helmet appears over your shoulder, his ragged breathing right by your ear. “T-This okay? You want this?” You can’t find your words to respond with the way you're held so tightly against the earth, so you nod as best you can with one cheek pressed into the ground. Mando snarls something furiously, one hand leaving your back to fumble with his pants and pull his cock out, lining himself up at your soaking entrance and running the head through your folds.

 His helmet drops back down to your shoulder, the visor turning and burying itself into the line of your neck and you know that if he weren’t bound by his creed then he would be kissing dark bruises there.

  “You know this means I win,” he hisses, pressing his cock to breach your tight opening ever so slightly.

 “I-I know.” You whimper weakly.

 With that, he fully pushes himself into you and if you weren’t so wet you know his size would be unbearably painful. Instead, the stretch is pure bliss, a slow burning sensation that has a hint of sting to it, his dominance lending to complete submission and all you can do is lay there and take it. There is still the strain you grew to know from when he allowed you to use his body on Nevarro, but something about Mando topping you encourages you to open yourself for him with more ease.

 He quickly bottoms out then holds himself till, allowing you to adjust to his size. You’re writhing as much as possible under the way he crushes you to the floor, knees carving grooves in the soft sandy earth.

 “Fuck,” Mando grits, teeth clenched together so hard that you swear you can hear the grinding in his jaw. “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.”  

 The position is hard to maintain on the soft ground, his hands keep sliding ever so slightly on either side of you forcing him to adjust every few seconds. His patience breaks after the third time this happens, a growl crackling through the helmet as he settles his hands on your lower back and hoists his body up, knees planted on either side of your thighs, crushing them together with intense pressure on your clit. Your body is locked tight, pussy clenching harder around his cock when he rises into an upright position.

 You let out a genuine scream when he draws back then thrusts sharply into you, pain mixing with pleasure in a manner far more biting than on his ship, when he had let you take control entirely, never even doing so much as to thrust into you. It is almost too much for you but even while you struggle to take his cock, you don’t      dare    tell him to stop, nor do you want him to stop. You’re so blinded by the stretch that you don’t realize he is speaking until you miss several, distorted words.

 “Fuck, why did I wait, why did I wait? I should’ve fuck-fucked you back on the station, approached you in that hangar and made myself fucking clear-”    Each gritted word is accentuated by a mean thrust, his dick is so big that he has to shove himself inside of you rather than glide, breaking you open in a way that burns so sweetly. Your legs are held together, knees locked and straight, which doesn’t help how tight you are but you can’t budge at all to open yourself to Mando, his hands pressing down at your lower back so heavily that you’re short of breath.

 A garbled moan is forced out of you when Mando grinds his length into your pussy as deep as he can possibly reach, hips smashing against your ass while he pulses inside of you and for a second you think he's cumming. But no- he draws himself from your depths and starts to rut his cock between your cheeks, head resting on your upper back and hands by your head.

 A powerful hand wraps under your side and settles at your sternum, pulling you back against his cuirass and lifting so that you end up seated together, fitting against him without even an inch of space between your bodies. His hand lifts your hips, other appendage snaking around to position his cock back at your entrance before allowing gravity to do the work, your legs spreading to rest on either side of his thighs as you sink down on him to the hilt.

 Once settled, Mando starts to work you on his cock, lifting you like you weigh no more than a pebble then letting go. The head of his cock slams full force into your pussy with the weight of your entire body, each brutal pounding sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Lungs free and no longer crushed to the floor, you’re unable to stay quiet, broken sobs and moans puffing from gritted teeth as he takes what he denied himself on his ship, the memory a thousand miles away as your processing center is fucked stupid.

 You can’t say how long this goes on for, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but the next thing you know is that your cheek is back on the sand, burning from the way it chaffs against the floor with each rhythmic thrust that claps against your thighs. You’re don’t even know if you’ve cum yet but it doesn’t matter, not with the way he is fucking the life out of you here in the wilderness. Mando is still talking, still uttering filth and praise through the helmet and all you can think about is how badly you want to hear his real voice speaking that way to you, you’re so close to asking him to take it off but you can’t find the words, you can’t think, you can’t-

 Abruptly, he grinds to a halt at the deepest point in your body then pulls himself free, pushing your shirt up lighting fast before cumming across your back with a choked exclamation. You’re both still for a second before your knees collapse, landing flat on your belly and gasping desperately. There is a shuffling noise behind you, accompanied with heavy breaths from the bounty hunter. It sounds like he’s rummaging through something then, yeah- your train of thought is confirmed when a wet cloth wipes his pleasure from your skin, gently trailing along your spine and ass.

 You reach behind you and hold his wrist, feeling the fluttering pulse there. “I’ll win next time…” You whisper, drawing his hand along the soreness on your bottom, the area he bruised, you suspect. He laughs- or pants you can’t really tell, but either way his touch becomes more gentle on your body, smoothing out the tense muscles and cleaning you up. Today's travels with the man have suddenly caught up to you and you might pass out right here, half clothed and dirty.

 “Come on, get up. Don’t sleep here.” Mando firmly states, helping you up and guiding you across the clearing after you pull your leggings up from where they gathered at your ankle. You’re trembling like a leaf, fragile in your spent state but glowing all the same. Mando sets you down on a log and brings you a canteen of water which you gulp down thankfully. He chuckles. “Wait up or I’ll have to drink from the spring.”

 That gives you pause, reminding you of something he said while you lay beneath him. You’re slightly nervous to ask but you do it anyway, warm and satisfied on your perch while he cares for you. “You.. When you were, um- fucking me. Well, you said something about how you shouldn’t have waited. Does that mean what I think it means?”

 He nods, “I noticed you for other reasons too, burc’ya.”

 “Maybe you should’ve fucked me back then.” Taking another gulp then handing the canteen back, you stretch then slide down to sit on the ground with him, back against the log. “You said that word before, ber-borshaw?”

 “Burc’ya.”He corrects,“It means friend in Mando’a.”

 “Oh.”You cheeks heat, feeling silly and rude for not recognizing the use of his people’s tongue, also noting that he used it to refer to you twice now, endearingly. It is an honor, one that makes you nervous. You feel like you should apologize, somehow. “Y-You speak Mando’a? I’ve never heard you use it before.”

 Mando settles against the log, leaning his broad shoulders to rest against the wood near your side. A few moments pass before he responds, “I chose to not use it around the others. Didn’t trust them.”

 “Oh, so you trust me?” You giggle, tapping the side of his helmet with your elbow. Questions burn within you and you may as well ask now, in the quiet afterglow of sex where everything is warm and slow. “Why didn’t you trust them if you started the company with Ran? How am I any different?”

 “You aren’t ruthless,” he surprises you by answering immediately, and you can’t decide whether you're insulted or not before he continues. “Ruthless and cruel is all that group ended up being, and it didn’t start out that way. We weren’t just mercenaries, we had a      code.    In the early days, attacking a slave ship would’ve been out of the question. Ran wasn’t always so full of greed.”

 Silence falls after he speaks, letting you mull over his explanation for a while while the waterfall rumbles in the background. Really, his perspective confuses you when you think back on your actions as a mercenary. Desperate to climb the ranks, to make a name for yourself, to earn credits and reputation. You suppose you conducted yourself with empathy, avoiding selection for hits that targeted innocent people if you could help it. You never had much choice in the area but it seems your actions spoke louder than realized. So much energy spent to avoid seeming weak and you never considered that your aversion doubled as strength.

 “Friend…” You whisper, not of your own accord. The word floats on your tongue, a specter within your vocabulary. In your adulthood you’ve had allies, you’ve had teammates, you’ve had acquaintances, but to have a friend… it terrifies you as much as it warms your heart. You considered yourself partnered professionally with the Mandalorian and didn’t      dare    to consider yourself lovers, no matter how much you privately hoped. But a friend is a luxury you didn’t hold close, mainly out of fear. You lost too many as a child. For a faceless man he manages to strike areas that are quite intimate.

 You decide that you’ll enjoy being his friend, a bit surprised that you aren’t too hurt by what is essentially a romantic rejection of the crush you held for so long. Probably because this is      real    , solid and built within reality instead of the silly fantasies you built prior.

     This is better than lovers, you tell yourself, the slight ache in your heart melting into the background of your desires, behind lock and key for another world.

 “I’ll take ‘friend’, Mando.” You grin, extending a hand to him cheekily. He stares for a second before taking it and shaking, helmet tilting in a respectful nod.

 His next words send an unexpected pang throughout your chest, taking all the careful walls you worked hard to set up and throwing them into a blazing inferno.

 “Let’s see where it goes.”

  Fuck.  

   ----------------

   Leather boots prance lightly through thick branches high in the trees, footfalls landing silently with all the grace of an athlete. Through the delicate glasses perched on the pursuers nose, a red glow blooms on the shadowy floor of the swamp, two sets of footprints lighting up to reveal a steady path made by the travelers. A musical giggle bubbles out of the darkly dressed woman as she pulls a small holo-watch from her bag and straps it onto her wrist, pale light mixing with her lavender skin, transforming it into a sickly grey.

 Xi’an claps a hand over her mouth to prevent her cackle from ringing through the trees as her plan takes form.

***

TAG LIST (working on it slowly, message if you want)

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[among-starz]

is your bedroom ceiling bored?

Description: Fem! MC (named Violet here) and Gavin mutually pine for each other and are too damn stressed. Based on the song is your bedroom ceiling bored? by Sody ft. Cavetown, but not too heavily. Can be read without listening to the song.

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

Fic under the cut :)

The room was almost pitch dark, save for the light of a computer shining over Violet's face when she unceremoniously pressed the last key for her night of work and shut the face of her laptop. She held her arms over her head, trying to stretch the day's fatigue out of her body, longing for nothing more than to jump into bed and sleep for the next few days, but there were still things to be done even though it was, she checked the time on her phone, much too late for her to be up. Beneath the time taunting her, there was a single notification left unread, a text from Gavin that said:

Don't stay up too late, Violet. Goodnight.

The simple words flooded Violet's heart with an emotion that was so new to her but had carved a place in her heart so deep that she knew without it she'd be lost. Her fingers ghosted over the keyboard, thinking of something to say to the boy who caught her heart, but they stayed still. Words flowed easily from Violet when she was writing proposals or scripts for upcoming shows, but when it came to Gavin they simply stopped.

After a few moments of contemplation, Violet threw her phone on her bed and made her way to the bathroom. It was already late and, like Gavin said, she needed to sleep. She could contemplate her response in the shower. She found so many proposal ideas stuck beneath the steaming water, next to her shampoo, why couldn't she find the perfect response here too? So as Violet stripped down and entered the shower, letting the water stream down her body, her mind was filled only with thoughts of Gavin and how to respond.

It's not like she needed a perfect response, Violet reasoned, it's not like Gavin spent this much time contemplating what to text her. It's not like he'd notice if her words weren't chosen to perfection, crafting a symphony of words that told him exactly how she felt for him. But that man, that amazing man, he deserved nothing less than perfection.

The hot water did nothing to spark a response in Violet's mind. It only cleaned her off and replaced the stress from work with a different Gavin-related one. Violet dressed, relishing in how her pajamas warmed her form that was already missing the burning heat of the shower and threw herself into bed, her phone bouncing slightly at her weight. She stared at the ceiling, each bump and blemish in the paint looking like stars spread out through the sky. Maybe she would find her answer written there, but she had already spent countless days gazing at her personal constellation map and had yet to find anything helpful written among them. Her ceiling must be bored of her, Violet thought, shifting in bed to look at the wall instead. It had spent countless days watching her watch it, writing and rewriting what she wanted to say to Gavin. A confession of her feelings, an invitation to go out to eat, or a simple good morning all being composed countless times until the wording was perfect. It watched her flail around nervously when she saw Gavin's number pop up on her phone, requesting a call. How she styled and restyled her hair when Gavin texted, saying he was only a few minutes away, clothes that she had deemed not fit to wear for Gavin littering her bedroom floor. Yes, her ceiling must be sick of this pitiful display.

Violet stood up, grabbing her phone and walking towards her balcony. It was only fair to give her poor ceiling a break from her behavior. Goosebumps sprouted on her skin as the cool night air invaded her. She leaned on the cold bar in front of her and looked out at the city she knew and loved. The city she grew up in, the city she met Gavin in. While the buildings and cars in front of her were certainly bright, the stars up above her were even brighter.

Instinctively, Violet scanned the sky for Jupiter. She found it, standing guard over the moon like Gavin told her. Jupiter looked particularly bright today, and Violet couldn't help but wonder what exactly Jupiter saw in the moon that made her worth protecting. Why protect the moon when there are a billion other planetoids much bigger and brighter than the moon? What made that particular hunk of rock special, worth taking a second look at, worth protecting?

As Violet gazed at the moon, she realized it must be a full moon tonight. It shone proudly in front of her, protecting Earth and the humans on it. Maybe the reason the moon stood guard over Earth was the same reason Jupiter stood guard over the moon. But Violet had yet to discover what that reason truly was.

Violet's mind unconsciously drifted back to Gavin and her response. It shouldn't be this hard to draft a goodnight text, yet here she was staring out at the moon, hoping against all hope she would finally find an answer with her because Violet knew this wasn't just a goodnight text, every text Violet sent to Gavin was something more, had to be something more. She wanted to articulate her feelings towards Gavin with all of her being, but what do you say to someone who's captured your heart so utterly and completely? So suddenly, Gavin swooped in and made her feel things that she could never hope to put into words, yet here she stood trying with all her might to do so. Yes, she felt love for Gavin, that was obvious, but this was something bigger. It knawed at her soul so hard that she was afraid it might consume her entirely. It didn't come with words, just a primal urge that made her desperate for more.

"I love him" Violet whispered to herself, hoping maybe the moon would overhear her. If the moon could hear what she knew to be true, the moon may be able to help her find the rest of her words. Help Violet to have Gavin forever, but finally, exhaustion hit Violet like a wave. She wouldn't be able to find her words tonight, that she knew very well. Violet's hand found her phone and she typed out a simple Goodnight, Gavin. And hit send before her clouded brain could beg her to write more.

The moon must be disappointed in her, but Violet couldn't find it in herself to worry about it as sleep threatened to overtake her. She went back inside and flopped onto her bed, thoughts of Gavin filling her head as she quickly drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Gavin drifted back into consciousness without the use of his alarm for the first time in a while. His alarm was set for fairly early in the morning, so this was a rarity. The sun was yet to shine through his windows, and he debated, for the first time in a while, if he should go back to sleep. Gavin knew his body all too well, however, and knew, try as he might, once he awoke in the morning there was no way he would fall back to sleep. So, unwillingly, Gavin sat up in bed and reached for his phone to check the time. It was about a half-hour before his alarm was set to go off, but the time wasn’t what really caught his interest. A text from Violet that read,

Goodnight, Gavin.

was what really caught his eye. The timestamp was much too late into the night for Gavin’s liking, but he knew when Violet wanted something done, nothing, not even sleep, would stop her from completing her task. He wanted to nag her to get more sleep, and he probably would, but he really had no place to talk. Rising before the sun and only getting a few hours of sleep wasn’t healthy either, but he cared much more for Violet’s health than his own.

Gavin unlocked his phone, readying his fingers to type out a good morning message, but his fingers froze on him. He wasn’t the best with words, but through text, he had the ability to mull over what he wanted to say, unlike face-to-face where he had to say what came to his mind on the spot. He very much preferred face-to-face talking, though, because having the ability to think over his words was a one-way ticket to spending hours on a simple text. It seemed something in him had decided this was how he was going to spend his morning, crouched over his phone trying to pick out the perfect words to send to Violet.

If Gavin knew one thing, however, it was that there was no way Violet would be up this early. Hell, he shouldn’t be up this early, so he knew he had a bit to find those words. He should go on his morning run, but if Gavin knew another thing, it was that when his mind was weighed down with thoughts of Violet, he didn't perform his best. There was no use in running this morning when the thoughts swirling around his brain acted as a weight, slowing him down and causing him to stumble over his feet. If he got this text written, though, maybe he'd still have a chance to squeeze a quick run in.

So Gavin flopped back into bed, phone held close to his chest, and hoped the words would come to him soon. His eyes regarded the ceiling, but he wasn't quite looking at it. A glaze formed over his eyes, and he might have even felt himself drift back into sleep for a split second, but his body, ever uncooperative, didn't allow him any more rest. His bed did nothing to uncloud his mind and the ceiling did nothing to spark creativity in his mind, so Gavin slowly sat up and got out of bed, walking aimlessly around his apartment, hoping something would give him an ounce of certainty.

His eyes caught the first glints of the sun rising as he walked past his balcony. If anything, fresh air wouldn't hurt his chances of finding his words, so Gavin slid the door open and walked out into the inviting cold air of morning. There was a thin layer of dew spread evenly across the surface of his balcony that caught between his toes. The sky had turned a brilliant burnt orange color as the sun began to peek above the horizon. Above the slowly rising sun, however, the moon still sat. It must be a full moon, because it looked particularly bright this morning, even when accompanied by the sun.

The moon, a thing of beauty, was a constant in the sky. Though it changed shape and rose and fell at unpredictable times to the uninformed, it always seemed to be there when you most needed it, even if she didn't know it. That, Gavin knew, was why Jupiter protected the moon. Jupiter wanted to be with the moon so bad, and Gavin wondered if the moon would ever look back at Jupiter. Jupiter didn't need thanking, he protected her of his own accord, but Gavin thought Jupiter might just crave recognition from the beauty he protected.

As the sun rose higher and higher, Gavin's gaze shifted back towards the colors she painted in the sky. How come perfection came so easily for the sun? If Gavin could grasp just a fragment of the perfection the sun possessed, he would never struggle with a text again. He could tell Violet exactly how he felt for her with words too beautiful to be shared with anyone but her. This girl helped him soar, dug him out of a pit without even realizing what she had done. She's the sun, crafting perfection without trying. She's the moon, a constant in the sky there when you need her most. She shouldn't accept anything less than perfection, and that's what Gavin intended to give her.

Gavin regarded the sun as it rose higher and higher in the sky, desperately searching for his words in the ever-changing hues she created before him, and as the sky settled into its normal blue, Gavin realized he had to send a text soon. Violet was due to wake up any minute, and he couldn't have her waking up to nothing.

Despite not being perfection, Gavin felt selfish. Even though he thought Violet deserved nothing but magnificence, Gavin couldn't help but want to be around her. He desperately clawed his way through life just for the prospect of seeing her again. So when Gavin's fingers finally found his phone's keyboard, he couldn't help but type out Good morning, wanna get breakfast today? He hoped she would accept his invitation. That would be enough for now.

[moonsbasileia]

Root and Bone

Also posted on AO3

Dishonored - Original Characters

Synopsis: Two witches from the Brigmore Coven venture into the Flooded District to look for their missing companion. They have a less than warm welcome from the Whalers occupying the place- despite that, the situation takes a turn, unfolding an unexpected, but positive, outcome.

-

An exploration of the witches and whalers as individuals. Set in the six months between Jessamine's death and Corvo's escape. Written as practice.

The way them whale fish went for us

It seemed as though t'was planned

For each one had his target boat

They played us man for man

Just knowin' now they think so clear

My heart says let them be

I swear to God them fish can think

As good as you or me

“A Whaler’s Tale” – Ken Graydon

-

Night fell over the rooftops of the old Financial District, painting the sky in dark orange. With the addition of the smog, pouring out of the factory’s chimneys, the horizon mixed and coiled like a bubbling cauldron. It was impressive, Rowan thought, but suffocating.

She was leaning out of the balcony of one of the many abandoned apartments of the district. Shards of glass lay around her feet, clinking whenever she moved, and the walls had become rotten with humidity.

Despite it all, and the mess of papers, clothes and shattered glass around the room, it seemed like it had been a nice place once, though simple. It had a small single-bed room that had been stripped of everything except for the bedframe, a simple kitchen with a pantry, and a considerably sized living room, still furnished with a red couch, a centre table, and a cabinet resting near the window. Rowan speculated it had belonged to a single accountant, as she’d found a book of finances forgotten on the small wooden table.

“Our time is running out,” a scratchy voice behind her sighed. Rowan shot a look behind her shoulders and saw Beatrice walk out, her face pinched, and holding a bottle in her hand. Despite her young age, her features were hard with unease.

“Is that…?” Rowan pointed at the dark green bottle. It worked; Beatrice’s face softened for a second, and she cocked an eyebrow and cut in:

“Yes, sister, Serkonan wine,” she held the bottle up so Rowan could read the label. Rivera Fig Wine, 1750. “We should drink it after we find our lost sister.”

Rowan hummed in agreement, looking back out to the water below. The stench of stagnated water wafted up, forcing her to avert her face in the direction of the breeze. The balcony next door had been blocked by planks, but the rooftops were low enough that she could see a building with an open terrace entrance.

“I will look over there. She mustn’t have gone too far,” Rowan warned.

“We shouldn’t split up, sister,” Beatrice said. Her green eyes reflected the light of the whale oil lamp that flickered inside the apartment, like a cat. “Who knows what lurks in the shadows of this horrible place.”

Rowan squeezed her shoulder, with her lips curling into a grin. “Nothing as terrible as us,” she assured.

Beatrice smiled, nodding, although she brought up her hand to hold Rowan’s wrist.

“I will check the apartment in the back, then,” she said, “But we shouldn’t take too long.”

Rowan nodded. “If we don’t find anything in twenty minutes, we regroup here.”

“Agreed. Until then, sister.”

The last thing she saw was Bea’s lingering smile while, with a crack, she vanished in a curtain of shadows, leaving behind a small pile of ashes. Rowan looked towards the terrace to the right and felt her body do the same; the rush in her ears of dark energy around her, and weightlessness from plunging into an empty space. A muted crack- and then suddenly spilling out like fish out of a net, into the dusty ground of the terrace.

It was not the first time she’d done that, and wouldn’t be the last. Yet, there was little she loved more than the feeling of surrendering her body to the Void, if for a moment.

Rowan crouched, eyeing her surroundings before going towards the door. Its wood was putrid and soft, and peeling off the bottom. It was ajar. She pushed it open slowly, and it still groaned. Rowan kept still for a moment, listening for any signs of movement inside. Nothing came. She went in.

The corridor was dark, as the only source of light was coming from the moonlight through the door she’d kept open. At the turn towards the stairs, she kept her body close to the wall, leaning sideways to squint at the dark. She saw nothing, but inhaled deeply before unsticking herself from her place to keep going.

There were two doors in this corridor, both blocked by planks. She stopped briefly by them, reaching out with her perception to try to feel Alice’s presence, but to no avail.

Down the stairs, the next floor was equally empty. Rowan crept towards the end of the corridor, where it turned into the next stairwell. The stairs were blocked by debris carried by the water, which she could hear lapping against the other side. However, there was a door, unblocked, directly in front of the stairs. She reached out. Nothing.

Still, Rowan touched the knob, and with a gentle twist of her wrist, tested it. It clicked open. She held her breath, surprised by the noise. When nothing seemed to respond, she pushed it further, and went in.

This apartment opened directly to a narrow corridor that opened to a larger room. Light poured out from it. Rowan followed. There was a doorframe to her left, leading to a bathroom.

She walked further, and the next doorframe belonged to a former bedroom. She searched it briefly. All that was left was the bedframe, a shelf with a few leather-covered books, a safe –that was open and empty- and a cabinet, with a cup still atop it.

Rowan went straight to the bigger room, this time. The light came in from an open window, busted and crooked on the frame. She widened her eyes. Bloodstains clashed with the window’s faded white wash. Rowan touched the hilt of the sword strapped to her waist.

She followed the trail of blood with her eyes. Like the other apartments, this one was scattered with dust, papers and glass shards. However, there were footprints in the dust, although they formed a chaotic pattern, like an abstract painting of dirt and blood. Two roses had been trampled over in the fight, stained and pressed onto the dusty ground. One trail of footprints went out through the window. That was certain.

Rowan walked in slowly. The silence was overwhelming in comparison to the loud beating of her heart, which she felt in her ears. She braced. And she found Alice, lying crookedly near the wall, in a puddle of her own blood.

She knelt next to Alice, cupping her face with her hands and turning it gently. There was a deep tear in her neck, almost all the way through, but not quite. She gasped, and let go quickly. It made her head hang in a strange way, which sent shivers up Rowan’s back.

An arrow had lodged itself right through her sternum. Her eyes, which had become white when she received her magic, had now faded into her natural brown and glazed over. Her jaw was lax, already open. Rowan imagined she might have screamed.

“You gave them a fight,” she said, and barely recognized the cracked voice that came out. She breathed, and said, “You showed them who you are and sent them home bleeding to lick their wounds. You are one with the Void now, sister.”

She didn’t want to leave Alice there to be eaten by rats and flies. But she couldn’t carry her. Her body was stiff and Rowan could barely hold her up, let alone transport her back. So she gently laid her out in the middle of the room with her arms resting on her stomach, and went into the bedroom. She opened the cabinet, and grabbed a few sheets, despite the strong smell of dust and mildew. She covered Alice with the least yellowed one, and took the shards of decorated porcelain bowls and plates from the kitchen to surround her.

She whispered a prayer to the Void, fighting against the nausea that threatened to rise past her throat.

When she was done, Rowan followed the footprints into the window. There was a smudged dirt stain in the lower frame, and nothing else. Either the killer had dropped down into the water or used magic. The prospect made her grimace.

She looked up at the setting sun and startled. Beatrice. More than half an hour had passed, and she had forgotten completely to come back to their meetup point. She summoned the shadows to involve her once more.

With a crack, she was back in the rooftop of the apartment. She walked to the edge, where she could see the balcony downwards. She only needed to drop.

A second, muted snap sounded somewhere behind her.

She turned back. Her fingers twitched towards the hilt of her sword.

Under the full moon’s light, however, the rooftops were well lit, and after scanning them Rowan didn’t see anybody or anything.

“Rowan?”

She barely stifled the jump at the sudden voice. It was Bea, on the balcony, calling up to her. She’d heard it as well, Rowan was certain.

“I’m here,” she said, shooting the rooftops a last glare before bracing with her arm on the edge of the tiles and dropping down onto the balcony. “We need to leave.”

Beatrice nodded, catching onto her unease. “I agree, sister. But- Did you find anything?”

Rowan felt her stomach drop. Beatrice still held onto the wine bottle, and fiddled with the corkscrew’s lid. She held Beatrice’s arms gently, guided her into the apartment, and said, “I did. I’m sorry.”

Bea’s eyes welled up, glinting in the moonlight, but she compressed his lips, as if she was afraid that if she started talking she would break down. She nodded, but the tears escaped, running down her cheeks.

Rowan put her arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Bea rested her head in her shoulder. She let the other stay for a while, pretending she didn’t hear the sniffing and hiccups. When her breath stilled slightly, she pulled away gently.

“We have to go. Take that wine with you, so we drink it in her memory.”

Beatrice wiped her face and nodded. She turned to pick up the bottle in the centre table, where she had left it before they went scouting.

She heard a dry crack behind her.

Rowan spun, her hand already closing around the grip of her sword. A person was perched on the balcony’s rail. Their face was hidden by a mask. Two red-tinted glass panels and a filter cartridge canister over the mouth. They dropped down, and with a blur of movement, something shot out of their wrist. Rowan flinched, expecting it to hit her- a dart, or a crossbow arrow?

Instead, Beatrice let out a thin noise behind her. She looked at her, wide-eyed, swayed, and dropped down.

The person approached Rowan, unsheathing their sword.

Rowan channelled the Void’s energy to her chest, and as she thought of Alice’s broken body, of Beatrice, behind her, she released it all into her shriek. The whaler stumbled back, losing his footing. He quickly balanced himself again, but that was enough to allow Rowan to unsheathe her own blade and slash it at his throat.

He caught it with his own. The metal grinded against each other, until Rowan was pushed back roughly. She stumbled. He slashed at her, but she caught it haphazardly. The assassin didn’t hesitate, and slashed again. This time, it cut a line under her collarbone.

Rowan growled, sneering at him. When he pulled the sword back to pierce through her, the only thing it caught was the smoke and ashes she left behind.

She appeared behind them, with a crack. It alerted the whaler, and he twisted back with the sword ready- until she hurled a vase at their chest.

It shattered, pushing him backwards. This time he did fall over, and Rowan was over in a second, her sword swinging in an arc towards his torso.

The whaler raised his left arm, turning his forearm outward. It didn’t register to Rowan until her sword caught on something, producing a crush. She looked down. It was a gauntlet, a tiny crossbow, notched to the leather vambrace around their wrist.

She tried to back out, but the assassin moved quickly, holding onto the lapel of her coat and hooking his leg around hers. Rowan fell, with the whaler over her, pinning her down. But his sword had been lost somewhere; hers was still on her hand. She tried to slip to the side, gain room to swing the sword again, but the whaler noticed. He trapped her arm between his own torso and left arm.

She struggled against the hold, but there was no give. Panicked, Rowan hit her palm against the mask, shattering the red glass visor and forcing his head back. She felt the meat of her hand split, caught in the metal sockets of the mask, and the warm blood seeping out.

Suddenly, the whaler disappeared, leaving behind a brief image of themselves that shattered onto nothing. Rowan didn’t wait; she disappeared as well, and when the person reappeared near the centre table, picking up their sword, she was already up on the cabinet.

Rowan threw herself at him.

The whaler had heard her, and spun around to deflect her sword, but Rowan’s was angled differently. She felt it pierce through his shoulder, not passing through, but breaking the skin. A sudden, red-hot line of pain traced her ribs, but she used her magic to pull him further into the sword. He kept pushing, trying to get her to release her hold. For a moment, they were stuck in this stalemate.

He broke first, letting go of his sword to close his gloved hands around the tip of hers. Rowan sighed out a small laugh. She pinned him on the wall. Though the whaler were much larger than she was, the sword lodged in his shoulder impeded his from reacting too fast. He tried to move, to throw Rowan off him, but she twisted the sword ever so slightly. Blood gushed out, soaking into the dark uniform.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, between her teeth. Her knuckles turned white as bone holding the sword’s grip.

“Be done with it, witch.” Despite the metallic rumble the mask gave it, his voice came with a strong accent. Instead of aggressive like she’d expected, the whaler sounded strangely composed. Rowan gritted her teeth.

“Tell me,” she said, “The witch with dark shaved hair, green-skinned. Did you kill her?”

He said nothing. Rowan plunged her knife further into his skin, and he groaned, squirming. “Did you?”

“No,” he said, and hung his head. He looked strangely ashamed when he said, “Not me.”

“Why are you whalers here?”

He hesitated, then said, “…Not for any of you.”

Rowan frowned at the cryptic answer. The man slowly brought his hand up to touch his chest and catch some of the blood that was running out, pooling in his glove.

“Why are you witches here?” he asked.

“I’m asking the questions,” she cut in. “How many of you are there?”

“Many.”

“Not all of you are looking around,” she said. “How many are in patrol?”

“Seven.” His voice was breathy now, tired.

“Where?” Her hand moved slightly, tired of holding up the sword. The man winced, sucking in air through his teeth. She heard the noise through the metallic filter.

“Near the rail tracks,” he said. That was south. They had entered through the buildings near the southwest, and if she kept close enough to the old Hound Pits quarter, maybe she would be able to avoid them entirely. It was her only shot.

She pulled her sword off, but kept it pointed at the same spot. The whaler staggered, propping himself up on the wall. He covered the wound with his hands.

“She’s not dead,” he said.

“What?”

“Your friend,” he indicated with a nod, “It was a sleep dart.”

Rowan didn’t turn to inspect Beatrice and see if he spoke the truth, but she mulled the idea over in her head. He was a whaler, an assassin by profession. He could be buying time. Yet he claimed to have spared a trespassing witch.

“Why would you let her live?” she said, looking at the inscrutable mask’s eyes. She had broken one of the visors, but the inside of the sockets were darkened. He said nothing, but his shoulders were tense.

After a while, he tilted his chin up, and said, “I don’t know.”

His eye showed through the broken visor. It was barely open between his swollen eyelids, red and slick with blood like a weeper’s tears. A piece of glass had lodged itself on the outer corner of his eye socket. He would probably lose that one, if he lived.

Rowan lifted her arm and quickly brought down the pommel of her sword to the side of his head with a crack. The whaler slumped to the floor.

She scrutinized him, still holding onto the sword. When he gave no signs of standing up or moving she sheathed it and ran towards Beatrice.

A small, syringe-like bolt was stuck on her neck. The whaler had called is a “sleep dart”. A quarter of a bright green liquid still sloshed in the syringe when Rowan picked it out carefully, and turned Beatrice over carefully. Alice’s opaque eyes. The wilting flowers on her collarbones. Rowan’s heartbeat echoed on her ribs, hammered on her throat, as she brushed her fingers against Bea’s neck and the budding saplings that grew there. She just started. She’d just started.

Beatrice’s eyes fluttered, and flew open. Rowan’s breath hitched, but as her sister looked over, searching for her, she quickly wiped the tears that had begun to overflow the corner of her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Rowan asked. She offered her hand for Beatrice to hold onto as she propped herself up.

“Yes… I think so,” she said, rubbing her hand on her temple, which had hit the ground as she fell. She looked at the body of the whaler across the room. “Good riddance.”

Rowan kept silent as she helped Beatrice to her feet. The girl stumbled slightly, but held onto her shoulder, taking a moment to regain her balance.

“We need to leave through the Hound Pit’s surroundings,” she explained, “Are you well enough to walk? Can you see properly?”

“Yes, Rowan”.

“Then, be a dear and look out to see if there’s anyone watching. Stay crouched, and don’t leave the balcony.”

Bea nodded, and went out onto the balcony with steady steps, although she still blinked slowly.

Rowan sighed. She dug into the small leather pouch strapped to her belt, pulling out a bit of moss. It was from the deep of the Wrenhaven, and was mixed with enchanted witch hazel oil, giving it a strong herbal smell.

Her heart still beat fast. Everything she’d learned told her it could still be a trick. That liquid might have been poison. Maybe the Whalers had used their magic to concoct a potion that would reveal their lair to them, and they would be made the foolish hares, walking back to their burrow and giving the hunters a better quarry.

She walked over to where the whaler laid, and pressed the moss into his wound, moving his hand to cover it. The blood had seeped out, blooming dark on the front of his uniform.

He had sounded tired, when he’d spoken. That was what convinced her he was being sincere. I don’t know, he’d said, but with a look that carried more than that. He didn’t sound tentative at all. Or maybe, she thought, it was relief that was filling in these logical holes, making up these cues for her.

When it was done, she sighed, frowning. She felt like a fool. The whaler was slumped with his head at an angle, seemingly done for, but his chest lifted and fell rhythmically. Rowan scoffed and turned back, ready to join Bea at the balcony.

“All clear?” she said, walking out with the same half-crouched posture as the other witch.

“All clear.”

“Let’s go home, Bea.”

The two vanished, and reappeared in the rooftops opposite to the apartment.

[muertawrites]

Hey! I absolutely loved your Zuko x reader one host you wrote, and I was wondering if you could do one where Zuko and the reader barely talk, but she’s part of Azula’s friend group. At the beach some stuff happens, and Zuko finds out she’s not as crazy as he thought she was. Kind of angst. I totally understand if you can’t, or don’t feel like it! I hope you’re safe and healthy, and everything is going well. Thank you!

From Eden (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,776 (FUHREEDOM MOTHERFUCKERS 🎆🦅🦅🦅 🎆 )

Author’s Note: Ok this request is P E R F E C T. I don’t think I need to tell anyone I love the psychology of this show, but I love the psychology of this show - especially with Zuko and his relationship with himself and others. And this episode??? Ohhhhhh I have some THINGS. TO. SAY. about this episode. I have been in this boy’s place and I feel 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 him 👏🏻 he 👏🏻 deserves 👏🏻 better 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. I went in a sliiiiiiightly different direction, but I didn’t drastically change it (it turned out cute I think). Also, I named this “From Eden” because as I was writing it reminded me of the Hozier song. I’m such a sucker for a Broken Babe™, especially when the babe in question has a lot of personal growth and learns to love because of it. Thank you so much for this, anon, you’re absolutely gorgeous and I hope you’re keeping safe and healthy as well ❤ 

~ Muerta 

(Also, if you’d like to request something, I have a list of prompts tagged! Feel free to ask for anything from fics to headcanons to imagines - I’m also open to new character suggestions!) 

“Hey.”

Zuko sat on the porch of his family’s old vacation home, his mind miles away. Your greeting made him snap his head towards you, glowering down at where you stood at the base of the front steps. You crossed your arms, responding to his gaze with a defiant glare. 

“What do you want?” he growled. 

“To have normal friends,” you spat in reply. “Seems I’m stuck with you instead.” 

A few hours ago, Zuko almost made a crater in the beach from the campfire you, his sister Azula, and your friends Mai and Ty Lee had started a screaming match around. Insults were flung, tears were shed, and skeletons were evicted from closets, all resulting in your realization that maybe political survival wasn’t worth the dysfunction of constantly being surrounded by a sociopath and her cronies. Pretending to have a super fun sleepover with them back at the guest house was proving to be too much for your fragile sense of self-containment, and you weren’t quite friendly enough with your newfound death wish to tell Azula how you really felt about her, so you went where you knew it would be quiet. You didn’t expect to find Zuko and his anger issues there a second time, but he honestly didn’t scare you - you’d take his obvious rage over Azula’s subtle calculations any day. 

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Zuko jeered. “You’re just as emotionally fucked as the rest of them.” 

“Ty Lee’s got herself pretty much under control, despite her gullibility,” you answered cooly. “Also, if you really wanna talk about emotionally fucked, I’m not the one who almost roasted my ex-girlfriend alive earlier.” 

Zuko furrowed his brow at you, leaning forward as if to challenge you. You stayed exactly as you were, regarding him with a hard, unimpressed expression that revealed just how little he intimidated you. You couldn’t bend and weren’t a trained fighter - you knew he knew this, and that he wouldn’t actually attack you, despite how convincing he tried to make his empty threat appear. After a long, intense moment of wrinkled foreheads and competitive frowning, he backed off with a sigh, leaning back against the pillar behind him. 

“So, what, you want to come and make peace? Talk it out or something?” 

You shook your head, climbing the steps and lowering yourself onto the second highest; just below him, with a few feet between you as a courtesy. 

“The last thing I want to do is talk about that dumpster fire on the beach,” you told him. “I just needed some time alone. But, since I found you, I guess it’s a good time to ask if you’re okay.”  

Zuko looked you up and down, a confused and partially concerned look on his face. You half expected him to raise the back of his hand to your forehead to check for fever. 

“What do you care if I’m okay or not?” he asked bitterly. “We’re not friends.” 

“Zuko, I’ve known you since I was a toddler,” you said. “I’d say we’re friends. It’s not like anyone else really is.” 

“Mai is my girlfriend,” Zuko snapped at you. “She’s the best friend I have!” 

“Mai dumped you for being a possessive asshole,” you deadpanned, “then she let her best friend convince you to commit arson. Friends don’t let their friends’ sisters manipulate them into felonies.” 

Zuko huffed, slumping back defeatedly. 

“You can’t act like Azula’s never made you do anything you didn’t want to,” he grumbled. 

“I don’t,” you replied shortly. “I’ve just stopped caring about making her like me, since she really doesn’t like anyone. She doesn't get under my skin like she used to when we were kids.” 

You noticed Zuko’s lips curl upwards into the ghost of a smile. You mirrored him, leaning your arms atop your upright knees. 

“What?” you asked. 

Zuko chuckled faintly, shaking his head. 

“Nothing,” he responded. “You just… Do you remember when you were eight, and Azula teased Ty Lee about being too slow climbing the trees in our courtyard?” 

Your eyes widened in realization, your mouth parting into a wide smile as you let out a gasp of hysterical laughter. 

“Oh, that was awful!” you cried, though the memory only brought more fits of giggles to your gut. “I was such a little brat!” 

Zuko was laughing with you too now, arms wrapped over his stomach as he tried to speak between breaths. 

“It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed. “Watching her fall out of the tree like that, the shock on her face, and then I caught you with the knife and saw where you cut the branch... She deserved it. You should give her a taste of her own medicine like that more often.” 

You blushed, looking away from him as your laughter died down. 

“Now she could kill me if she wanted,” you said. “I try not to say or do anything around her if I can help it.” 

“... Is that why you’ve been so quiet since then?” 

You nodded. 

“She beat me up when she found out what I did,” you explained. 

You stood, pulling down the waist of your sarong to reveal the burn scar on your right hip. Zuko’s eyes burst with shock at first, wondering exactly why you’d be disrobing in front of him, his expression softening when he saw the mark Azula left. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Most brothers feel like they should protect their little sisters. I always felt like I should’ve protected all of you from her.” 

“You did,” you assured him. You sat back down beside him, closer this time, so that your hips almost touched. “I remember you jumped in front of her once when she threatened us. And that time…” 

Your voice faded, the memory almost bringing tears to your eyes. You couldn’t figure out why. 

“You hid from her,” Zuko finished your thought. 

You nodded. 

“You let me hide in your room,” you recalled. “Remember? Azula punched me. I ran to the first quiet place I could find and accidentally went to your room.” 

Zuko hummed. 

“You were crying,” he added, “and your eye was all red and swollen.” 

“You held me.” 

Zuko’s eyes fixed on you. He didn’t say anything, though he remembered; you burst through his half open door, sniffling, tears and spittle running down your cheeks and chin. It was the first time Azula had actually, physically hurt you, and you were terrified and confused. He asked if you were okay, and you shook your head. Being so young, the only thing he could think to do was hug you, since that’s what his mother did to make him feel better, and you clung to him, sobbing into his shirt and using his much bigger body for protection. After that day, he let you use his bedroom as a hiding place whenever Azula got to be too much - until she found out about it and started teasing you about wedding dresses and baby names. 

“We were friends,” you breathed. “I wish we still were.” 

There was a long silence in which the two of you stared out at the horizon, down the steep hill leading to the vacation house and into the ocean. The moon hung in a small sliver, barely flickering across the calm waters that rocked below; you could hear the gentle rush of waves as they crawled over the sand and shrunk back into themselves, creating a calming din that echoed up to where you sat. 

“... I still remember your favorite game to play with me,” Zuko said into the warm air between you. “Those times you hid in my room. You used to pretend to be a Kyoshi warrior. My mom gave you one of her old fans and we’d jump on and off my bed, trying to catch each other.” 

You grinned. 

“I would wrap myself around your legs to keep you from walking,” you recalled. 

Zuko laughed. 

“I loved that,” he admitted. “It used to make me laugh so hard when we were kids.” 

He looked over to you, and you turned to face him as well. The anger in his eyes was gone completely, in its place a warm, steady sadness that made you ache. 

“I miss you,” he whispered. 

You reached cautiously for his hand, relieved when he slid his fingers between yours and gripped your palm tightly. 

“I miss you, too,” you replied. “I’m sorry I let Azula drive me away from you.” 

Zuko wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. Your hands latched together on either side of his back, gripping into his shirt a little bit as you buried your face in his shoulder. He felt and smelled the same as he did when you were little; hard like the walls of a sturdy house and sweet like the last embers in a fireplace.

You didn’t know how long you held each other, but when you broke apart, you sat together for ages, existing in silence on the steps of his childhood house and beside one another. You felt small again, but in the best way - you felt like the girl who was brave enough to cut through the branches of a maple tree so your tormenter would fall out of them. 

“I want to run away,” you blurted. “I could be someone totally different if I weren’t stuck here.” 

“If you do, I’ll go with you,” Zuko said. “We can be different people together.” 

You grinned, leaning your shoulder against his. 

“We could move to Kyoshi Island,” you suggested. “I’m too old to start warrior training now, but we could start a business. Open an inn or something.” 

Zuko chuckled at the thought. 

“I’ll call myself Lee,” he mused, “and you can go by Izumi.” 

“Maybe we could be married. And we could adopt orphan children and cats.” 

“Just cats. You can’t emotionally destroy a cat like you can with a kid.” 

You glanced over at him, noticing the hard gleam in his eye. You wrapped your arms around his bicep, holding him close to you. 

“You’re not your father, Zuko,” you whispered. “You don’t want to be.” 

Zuko nodded. He reached for one of your hands, curling his own around it. 

“... I feel like I am going to leave,” he said, “at some point. When I do… will you stay? So that I have at least one friendly face to come home to someday?” 

You nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I will,” you promised. “And when you do, I’ll give you Azula’s severed head as a homecoming present.” 

Zuko laughed at that. 

{ epilogue }

[demonslayerimagines]

Here’s another story I wrote for @mevrouwrozestudios for our 2nd story/art trade! The prompt was some rescue fluff between her OC Nonaka and Inosuke! I hope you enjoy!

~ Mod Nezuko 🌸

Antidote of the Heart

The rumors of a mysterious, small village in swampland were being told around the country. It was humid, but cloudy as if it was about to rain. Nonaka walked carefully on the path toward this village. There were rumors of a plague spreading to every civilian, with some of them going missing. The signs of it were paleness, weakness, and a bite mark somewhere on the body. Everytime someone seemed to be cured, they'd be back in their sick state the next morning. Shinobu suspected a demon, so this is how Nonaka found herself stepping cautiously through the muddy trail. She was just to figure out if it was a demon or just a plague and report back by midnight! Nonaka felt a bit out of her element, the farthest she's been from the Butterfly Mansion in a while. Shinobu had the utmost confidence in her, so Nonaka was ready to do a great job. Even if she had to be away from her Inosuke.

The village was in sight, small huts and houses were all near the lakeside. Nonaka stepped into it and noticed the lack of people, all the doors and windows were shut. It felt like a ghost town, empty with only the breeze bringing a sort of life to the area. Nonaka felt a chill crawling up her back as she slowly walked around, looking for someone to question. Nonaka finally saw an older-looking man standing near the far exit of town. There were strange tracks leading out into the swampy forest.

Nonaka approached the man and noticed his troubled expression. “Now, who might you be, young lady?” the man spoke with a strict tone. Nonaka gulped and showed her wooden box, full of first aid supplies. “Sir, I was sent by the closest village to see what was going on out here. I’m a doctor’s assistant and heard there was a plague spreading” The man huffed, but looked melancholy, “A plague is the least of our worries...If you’re smart, you’ll go back to once you came and forget that this place exists” Nonaka wanted to ask more, but the old man gave her the cold shoulder and walked towards the closest hut.

Nonaka knew something was amiss, but wasn’t quite sure what the danger was yet. Noticing the tracks again, Nonaka looked at them closely. The tracks were quite large, furrows made in the ground in a wavy pattern. She knew whatever made these had to be the problem and began to follow the strange trail into the dark bog…

~~~~~

It was midnight, the butterfly mansion glowed with the light of candles in the dark of the night. Shinobu stood outside, waiting for an answer from Nonaka. Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke were all relaxing in the baths after their last day of physical therapy. They had come back from a big mission in the city and had spent a few days there to heal up. Tanjiro seemed to be the only one who really focused on their training though. Zenitsu was fawning over Eiko, a new ally who had helped them in the city and who had protected Zenitsu in his time of need. Inosuke on the other hand was constantly trying to impress Nonaka, the two had begun constantly flirting and talking with each other.

They had officially begun to court after their herb adventure a few weeks ago. Inosuke was very proud to be the first of the group to actually get a girl! Zentisu was incredibly jealous about it. Inosuke and Nonaka were inseparable before training and after training. Inosuke gave her lots of hugs and loved to lift her up when she least expected it. That's why when she mentioned her next mission, Inosuke felt a pang in his chest. He wanted Nonaka to stay with him in the mansion! Who knows what could happen to her alone out there! Tanjiro mentioned that the feeling was called worry, surprised that Inosuke could feel that with the way he goes head first into battle. There was nothing to be done though as Nonaka gave him a kiss goodbye a day ago.

The three boys stepped out of the bathes in their casual kimonos. They walked out to see Shinobu waiting for them with a white kasugai crow, Inosuke immediately knew it belonged to Nonaka. Shinobu had a serious look on her face as she spoke, “Nonaka has gone missing and was unable to report back to me. I want you three to leave at once to find her-” Inosuke immediately ran past her in a panicked state, going to get his blades and clothes. Tanjiro nodded at Shinobu and took Nonaka’s crow. Zenitsu’s eyes widened and his hands shook slightly, “C-Can’t I stay o-or can Eiko-chan come with us?!” Shinobu smiled, but shook her head. “Eiko and I must meet Mitsuri for important matters, but I’m sure the three of you will do fine! If not, you can just come back for some more physical treatment” Zenitsu whined as he dragged himself to get his things.

Inosuke wrecked the room to find his things. He slipped on his boar mask in a rage. Whatever has his Nonaka will never see the blessed light in the morning. Tanjiro and Zenitsu quickly gathered their things, but Inosuke barely noticed him as he stomped out of the room.

Inosuke waited outside on the cobblestone road, Tanjiro thanked the butterfly girls for their help while Zenitsu was holding Eiko’s hands and begging her to marry him quickly! “COME ON YOU CHICKENS! WE BETTER GET THERE BEFORE THE SUN RISES OR I’LL BRING THE BOTH OF YOU DOWN!” Inosuke yelled with passion, meaning every word. Zenitsu yelped and hid behind Eiko, “SAVE ME!” Tanjiro only nodded, understanding Inosuke’s feelings of concern for his loved one. Tanjiro grabbed Zenitsu by the haori and started dragging him down the path. Inosuke huffed, hiding his fear under layers of anger, ‘She better be ok…’

~~~~~

As the new moon hit the horizon, the three demon slayers ended up in the same path as Nonaka. The village close, Tanjiro could smell blood and a slight poisonous scent in the wind. It led them to the back of the small village where the same exit stood. Inosuke noticed the smaller footprints in the mud. It had to be her...Why did she go off on her own?! Inosuke felt himself tear up in his mask, not wanting to think of the worst. His legs took over, running ahead without any thought for himself. Tanjiro’s voice had called to him, but the sheer fear made Inosuke unable to hear much else except his beating heart. She had to be alive...Inosuke couldn’t take being alone again...

He ran up the steep path and saw a bigger house with the sliding door busted open. Inosuke could hear his partners running up behind him, but he ran inside alone. Needing to find out the truth for himself first. Once Inosuke was inside, he noticed the smell of blood was heavy in the air. Around were the bodies of the missing villagers, eaten by a demon. Inosuke almost missed the pink see through material that was lying by his feet. Inosuke kneeled down and felt it in his hands, eyes widening. Nonaka’s haori, the rose pattern slightly stained with drops of blood. Inosuke felt his body move on his own, screaming his inner pain to the heavens. Gripping the haori to his chest, his screams were wild and filled with anger. The mere thought of his love being gone was too much to bear…

Inosuke felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She’s not dead, I smell a sweet scent in the air. It has to be her, I distinctly remember her breathing style from training” Tanjiro spoke softly, breaking into Inosuke’s rough exterior. Inosuke understood, tying his love’s haori around his waist. A new determination surrounding him to find her and kill the motherfucker that hurt her!

~~~~~

Tanjiro was in the lead, following the scent. Inosuke close behind, gripping the haori tightly. Zenitsu took up the rear, every little thing making him jump. Zenitsu screamed in fright as a snake slithered past his feet. “This place is full of snakes and other small reptiles...What a strange home” Tanjiro spoke up, quietly. Inosuke shrugged, used to the wildlife and not afraid of a puny snake.

The three happened upon a large sliding door, Tanjiro put a finger to his lips and slowly opened the door. There in the large room was a demon. A male with long blackish green hair in a slick ponytail that went down to the middle of his back. His eyes were orange with thin black slits. His teeth were long and sharp, two fangs jutting out from his mouth. He was muscular as well, but the main thing was that his lower half was a long dark green snake tail. A half man, half snake demon. Inosuke was only interested in the figure wrapped in the tail though. It was Nonaka! She looked pale, her beautiful brown eyes looking dull, and a large snake bite was in her neck.

Inosuke took out his sword in a fit of rage as it built back up in his core, “OI! PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE!” The snake turned and grinned mischievously, “Ho ho ho, so more demon slayers enter my nest! Did you miss your little doctor? It seems she's also caught my ‘plague’” Tanjiro’s eyes widened, “The poisonous scent...He’s been injecting venom into the villagers and Nonaka!” The demon began to laugh, crazily, pissing Inosuke off even more. “Your little friend has had my biggest dose yet! That's what she gets for entering my domain!” the demon said between laughter. Nonaka looked in pain, barely able to look at Inosuke. Inosuke had enough, rushing quickly to stab the thing in the head. The snake dodged in the last minute at lightning speeds, as fast as a predator in the wild.

Tanjiro unsheathed his sword, leaving Nezuko’s box with Zenitsu to protect. Tanjiro took the side Inosuke wasn’t on and went for the tail to stop the demon’s wild movements and to free Nonaka. The snake smiled wide as Tanjiro’s sword hit the snake scales and slid off. No damage had come to the tail. Tanjiro’s eyes widened as the tail swung back and hit him hard against the wall, trying to crush him. Inosuke growled loudly, air coming from the nostrils of his boar mask, jumping up and bringing his serrated swords down on the snake. The demon screamed as Inosuke’s blade sliced between the scales, tearing them off and cutting the tail in half. The other half of the tail wiggled wildly in an unsettling way, releasing Tanjiro. Inosuke pushed Tanjiro away, “BACK OFF! THIS IS MINE!” The demon slid to the side and moved back to pounce at Inosuke, going for a bit to the chest. Inosuke held up his blade and the snake bit onto it, cutting his mouth as the two fought for dominance in the fight.

The two fought like a wild boar and snake in the wild, pushing against each other for the upper hand to kill their prey. Inosuke almost lost his footing as he was straining to keep the fangs away from his skin. He looked to Nonaka who had been released when the demon went for him. She sat there weakly holding herself up, but Inosuke read her lips as she tried to speak, ‘I-Inosuke...You’re so s-strong...I know you’ll s-save me...I love you!” Her silent words were enough for Inosuke to find himself, refocusing and twisting around. His flexible body twisting around with ease and slicing the demon’s head in half from the mouth.

In that moment, the demon remembered being an outcast, loving his pet snakes. The villagers were afraid of him so they broke into his home and killed his dear pets. The demon wanted revenge on the town and to make them suffer forever. Turning into a demon gave him that ability, but he really just wanted to live in peace with his snakes…

~~~~~

Nonaka began to awaken in a makeshift cot. She felt the humid heat and knew she was still in the swamp. The last thing she remembered was Inosuke fighting for his life and hers. His bravery and quick thinking as he used his strengths to win. Then Shinobu showed up and...the rest was very fuzzy. Nonaka opened her eyes fully, she was in a small hut with a few others who looked sick from the venom. Shinobu had a vile of purple venom with a few other medicines and was mixing things together. Shinobu had figured out how to reverse the effects of the venom by making an antidote with it. Tanjiro and Zenitsu were helping and giving medicine to sick villagers, but where was Inosuke?

Nonaka felt someone nuzzle up to her. Inosuke was snoring softly with his mask off while cuddling next to her on the floor. Nonaka blushed hard and sat up, quickly. Inosuke opened his eyes a bit and smiled at her. Before Nonaka could say a word, Inosuke sat up and met his lips with hers. His arms went around her and when he pulled away, she noticed her haori was on her shoulders. “I-Inosuke! I just woke up!” Nonaka exclaimed, her whole face turning as red as a strawberry. Inosuke chuckled, “Yeah! And I saved you! It was all me Nonaka!” Inosuke said as he flexed a bit, moving closer to her. Inosuke smiled wide as he held her against him. Nonaka heard his happiness, but felt him shaking a little. She knew that this all must’ve been hard for him. Nonaka returned the hug, feeling Inosuke��s worry wash away and being replaced with love as he hugged tighter.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Don’t Underestimate Me

Here it is! This story is becoming a spider web of ideas for me so i can promise most of the chapters are just going to get longer from here! 

so a little clarification since I have the ideas in my head and I want to make sure it’s completely clear. The OC and main character is named Skylar. When she is in the castle being “herself” she goes by Abigail. They are the same person and from Freds POV he caller her Abigail in the castle. So just wanted to clear that up because it will happen a lot as the story progresses and didn’t want anyone to be confused! 

Warnings: None 

Taglist: @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @magical-spit @birdie-writes @ickle-ronniekins @heart-of-tempered-steel @wand3ringr0s3 @thoseofgreatambition @things-that-start-with-f @elf-punk @bitchywhisperswizard @a-little-too-much @izzytheninja @kpopgirlbtssvt @shadowsinger11 @harrysweasleys @obsessedwithrandomthings (let me know if you want to be added! or taken off)

Word count: 2.8K

Chapter 1: The Fine art of Bullshit. 

She let out a grunt as she got slammed into the ground for the second time in a row, knocking the wind out of her. A feeling she’s never fully gotten used to since it happens so little. 

“Come on, really? You’re not focusing!” Her brother yells at her from where he stands. 

“You could have blocked that in your sleep.” He continues goading her. Sighing, she stands up and brushes the dirt off of her palms. Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she takes a deep breath and tries to focus. 

Every time she tries all she can think of is the unopened letter sitting in their kitchen. The one made from heavy parchment with the red wax seal of the royal family. 

“What if they know?” She asks again for what seemed like the thousandth time since they started practicing. 

“Then you better go down with a fight.” He responds with a laugh. 

“Mace! This isn’t funny. Do you know what they would…” 

“How could they have found out? You haven’t done anything wrong. Now stop making excuses and bow.” She huffs at how casually he can brush this off but bows anyways. The sounds of them counting seem to be far away and her body picks up the familiar hum of energy, like a snake getting ready to attack. 

This time she manages to block everything he throws at her. Colorful and powerful swirls of magic aimed just so perfectly. “Fight back!” Mace yells. “Stop blocking and fight!” His words distract her for a split second and she’s fumbling over her feet and when she goes to block the next spell, her balance is off. She stumbles and falls over her own body, something she hasn’t done in years. 

“Stop. Enough of this. Just let me read the letter.” She calls, rolling out of the embarrassing position of falling straight on her face. 

“Oh how the mighty fall.” Mace laughs. His laugh is cut off when he gets blasted off of his feet and lands on his back. 

“Cheater!” He calls after his sister as she runs into the house. 

The house isn’t anything special. Smaller than most for this area actually, but it’s home. A small part of her thinks her father kept it small to stop people from wanting to visit. Or come to fight. No one would think the best duelers in the entire kingdom would live in a house like this and that keeps them safe. More than anything it keeps Skylar safe. If someone found out that there weren't three children in this house, if someone pieced together all of it, she would be doomed. Or not be able to fight, snap her wand and tell her she could never duel again and at that point they might as well just kill her. 

She closed the screen door behind her, letting it slam harder than she normally would. Every thought on the tiny innocent letter that could ruin her life. Vaguely, she processes that Mace is now in the kitchen with her. 

With shaking fingers she rips open the seal and pulls out the letter. 

 “We hope this letter finds you well. 

On Behalf of His Royal Majesty, William Weasley, 

The presence of both Mason and Skylar Green are being requested to partake in the Tri Wizard Tournament. 

A carriage arrives to pick you up on the first of May. 

Best regards, 

Alastor Moody, Assistant to the Royal family.” 

“May first. That’s a week away.” Mace says once he finishes scanning the letter over his sister's shoulder. 

“I can't go!” She screams. Voice wavering slightly. 

“It doesn’t look like you have a choice. You don’t turn down a royal summons.” He says grabbing the letter out of her shaking fingers. 

“I’ll write back and say I have dragon poxs. Something.” She shoots back after a moment of thinking. 

“And risk them sending a doctor? Absolutely not.” 

“I’ll hide. Run away?” Mace just shakes his head. 

“Calm down. We’ll think of something. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.” He says and grabs her to pull her into a hug. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She cries into his shoulder. 

The week goes by quickly, and they still did not have a plan. Not one that was rational at least. And Mace shoots her down everytime she suggests just disappearing. 

“We do not back down from a challenge” He says sternly. 

“This isn’t a challenge. This is crazy.” Was her response to that comment. 

The general feeling of dread seems to intensify as the two go to bed on the last day of April.

“Merlin, just let it turn out okay.” Skylar says to herself before she blows out the candle that night. She stays up most of the night tossing and turning. A small part of her contemplates waking up Mace but what good will that do in the long run. He’ll just say she’s overreacting again. So she tries her best to sleep and ends up falling asleep shortly after the sun rises. 

A loud knock startles her out of her sleep. Mace opens the door with a grim face. Behind him is a server-looking woman with square glasses. Her black hair is pulled back into a tight bun that gives her entire face a very pitched looked. She was wearing an emerald traveling cloak. Skylar jumps out of bed before she remembers herself. Standing next to her bed she realizes that they’ve already been caught. 

“I’d rather hoped you had come up with  a plan on your own.” The older woman sighed as she walked into the room, closing the door on Mace. She suddenly reached into her bag and pulled out a large page hat. “That’ll cover your hair enough to get you into the castle.” She pushed Skylar into her vanity chair and promptly started braiding the girls hair. Once done she pins the hat over her hair in a way that shades her face as well. 

“That’ll do.” She says in a satisfied voice. With that she walks over to the small closet and looks through it. “As will these.” Pulling out clothes she throws them to the very confused girl. The woman gives her a look and up and down and Skylar suddenly realizes she wants her to change now. 

“Girl I’ve raised more children than you can count. Change. Now.” She sighs when she notices the look on the girls face. She at least gives her the decency of turning around while she strips to her undergarments. Hiding her embarrassment, she pulls on the itchy tweed pants and the green linen shirt she had also been thrown. McGonagall gives her a stern look over and simply nods her head. 

“Pack all of the clothes you have. Leave the dresses. It looks like the princess might have some that will fit you.” With one more stern look Skylar realizes she had been given another instruction. 

“Oh..Yes..Yes ma’am.” She says as she went to grab her small suitcase and starts throwing all of the work clothes she had. That plus some of her more favorite dueling wands. 

She doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows raise when she sees them. 

“Okay.” Skylar says looking around. “That’s everything then.” 

“Perfect. Let’s go get your brother and we’ll be off.” She pulls out a pocket watch. “Better be fast. We’re already running behind.” She shoos the girl out of her room and grabs her bag before closing the door. 

“How did you know?” Skylar asked the woman when they got outside of the house. 

For the first time she sees her smile. “I’ve seen all the birth records for this area and nothing matched up.” Skylar pales at her words. The woman gives a small laugh. “Nothing to worry about by seeing them I changed them to match what everyone already assumes. Although I’m glad you can see the severity of being found.” The smile falls away. “I have been in charge of raising the royal families children but I do have other duties in the kingdom. So now my job is making sure you survive this whole ordeal.”  She looks the girl up and down and sighs. 

“Lady Minerva McGonagall.” she says, extending her hand slightly. Skylar grabs it and gives her hand a firm shake. “I do hope you have a better plan than what I saw today?” 

“My plan was just to run away but Mace says we never back down from a challenge.” Skylar responds. 

“And what a challenge this will be. Alright enough chit-chat.” 

Mace has now joined them outside. Carrying a small bag thrown over his shoulder. 

“Time to go.” McGonagall says and gestures for the two of them to climb in. After throwing their bags in the luggage carrier in the back they hop into the carriage and set off for the main city. 

The castle has been in a flurry all morning. Getting ready for the Tri wizard tournament champions to arrive. Maids and security running around getting rooms ready and greeting everyone at arrival. 

Fred sighed heavily to himself. This is the biggest deal anyone has made of the Tri wizard tournament in over a century. Leave it to Bill to try to outdo is father. Everyone in the family knows the real reason he’s trying to make this a bigger event than it needs to be, and while he understands it, what it symbolizes is terrifying. 

He stares out of the large bay window in his room. Sunlight just started to peak over the horizon making the grounds one of his favorite shades of pink. He should have been down in the rink to start his training about an hour ago but couldn’t find the energy to be around some of the new fighters that have come in. All so loud and determined to prove themselves. Once word got around that the Green brothers were coming it became chaos. Most of them personally having lost to them, it became a matter of pride. Seeing how they trained, how serious they must take the skill and most of all, trying to learn them well enough to figure out their weak spots. Training is something typically done in private so training with the same people you compete against is out of many of their comfort levels. 

A knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. “Yes?” He called in response. Already knowing who it was. 

“You never showed up. Come on, everyone is waiting for you.” A voice said from the door. 

“This is so pointless, George. You see that right?” He didn’t move when he spoke. 

“Mate, I hate this as much as you do but we have to set an example right?” His twin responded. 

“Says the one who gets to keep his nose buried in books all day. Why didn’t I choose to do more schooling?” He sighed once again and went to grab his training bag from it’s hook.

“Because we share one brain cell and we have found out we can’t both use it at the same time.”  The thought makes them both laugh. George always has a way of cheering him up and vice versa. The beauty of being raised alongside someone. If one was sad then they both would suffer so they do their best to keep each other in light spirits. 

“Let's get this over with.” He says, clapping his brother on the shoulder and closing the door. 

Of course the arena was already crazy by the time he arrived. George takes his place on the sidelines , notebook in hand to write about the events of training as normal for the competition. 

He ran into what he thought was a wall, but typically walls dont yelp. Fred looks in front of him and is confused, thinking he imagined it until he looks down on the ground and sees a mess of fabric and curls. 

“Oh no.” He scrambles to give her a hand up, wrapping his own hand around her shoulder. 

“Merlin are the hallways in this castle not big enough-” The girl starts, then her eyes go round as she sees his face. She instantly pales and he fights the urge to laugh at her expression. 

“I could definitely ask someone to fix that for you.” He said with a laugh. The first thing he really notices about her are her eyes. Now that they seemed to have gone back down to their normal size. He’d call them brown but that doesn’t seem to do it justice. Standing as close to the window as they are, he can see little flecks of gold and even some blue in them. Like someone splattered paint at a chocolate brown canvas. And her hair seems isn’t exactly curly or straight but a sort of wild middle.  He’d be an idiot to say she wasn’t pretty but with how shocked she looked she just looks funny. 

“I am so sorry. Pri-” He holds up a hand cutting her off for the second time. Formal too.

“I should have watched where I was going. And you must be new around here. Fred.” He holds out his hand and he can see her freeze. “It’s polite to shake it, ya know?” 

That seems to unfreeze her and she jerks her hand out, almost robotically. He noticed how her hand felt a little too rough. 

“Are you here for the tournament?” He asked once he let her hand go. 

“Umm...no..why would I be?” She responded a little too quickly. 

“My mom sent out a bunch of personal invitations to some of the ladies in the court. And some others.” Fred says remembering the way her hands felt rough. Like she actually does something besides sit around and try on hats and gossip. 

“Ah. Yes. Something like that then.” She says with a small laugh. 

“Sorry this is just my first day in the castle and I haven’t seen anyone.” This makes him laugh. 

“So definitely your first time in the castle. So what’s your name? Since you seem to know mine, it’s only fair.” 

“S..Um Abigail.” The girl responds. “Abigail Jones.” He laughs again. 

“You sure? You don’t seem so sure.” He giddies her. 

She nods. “Absolutely sure.” 

“Glad we could get that established.” She can’t help but give a small laugh at his tone. 

She has the kind of laugh that seemed like it belonged in one of his meetings. It was a deep belly laugh, even if it was just a little one. He made the decision right then and there to make her laugh more. 

A clink of heels echo through the hallway. 

“Oh there you are!” A familiar voice calls from down the hall. Fred’s head immediately snaps up. Used to people constantly looking for him. 

“Minnie!” He calls when he sees the woman standing in front of him. 

“Minnie?” the girl next to him whispers with a small giggle. 

“I have been looking for you everywhere!” McGonagall comes stomping down the hallway with a certain fury in her eyes that makes Fred feel like he just pulled one of his first pranks all over again. She completely blows past him and grabs Abigail's wrist. 

“Fred. Trouble as always I see” Minerva says with a slight smile. “You. Now.” She pulls the girls arm and starts heading the way she came. 

“Well it was nice meeting you!” Fred calls at the retreating girl. 

“Same to you.” She flashes him one of the biggest smiles he’s seen in a long 

“Now if i have to explain the simple rules of a duel to you one more time. I will hex you into the next century.” Mace screams into Krum’s face. A hand is suddenly on his shoulder. 

“I got this.” A voice deeper than what he’s used to saying in his ear. That one was his idea actually.  A spell to make her voice deeper to actually pass off as who she’s trying to. Forces her from being mute, especially when you have to count during duels. 

“Krum. You and me. Now.” Skylar shouts across the pitch. 

His chest actually seems to puff up more as he walks into the dueling area. 

The two face each other and bow. Through their masks, Skylar never takes her eyes off of the man. 

“One. Two. Thr-” Before the last syllable is even out of his mouth, he gets blasted onto his back. 

“Now next time, you’ll figure out that we have those rules to be fair. If that’s the only way you can beat someone. Do better.” Skylar calls to him before spinning on her heel and turning away. 

Fred just stares in awe as he walks away. Krum is one of the biggest douches there is and if he’s going to be the one to constantly put him in his place, then maybe this tournament is worth it after all.

[greenygreenland]

Operation New Me: Father Figure Wu & Reader

-⛔if you're sensitive, to things like bullying, fist-fighting, mentions of insecurities etc, I don't recommend reading this⛔

-young Morro is in this because I love him

Summary: You're beginning your first day of high school despite being a dropout since like third grade

"Are you ready?" The question was quite innocent and short, yet held a deeper meaning only you seemed to catch. Morro didn't pay any attention to what Wu was saying as you stuffed the last of your supplies in your book bag, and to be honest, you weren't sure if you'd ever be ready for today.

You spent the past week meditating and reading whatever material you could to catch up on what you've missed, but it just wasn't enough--it'd never be enough. How could you even think of cramming seven and up years of knowledge you didn't even understand in a mere month?

"(Y/n)?"

You adjusted your bag around your shoulders and walked through the monastery doors to meet Morro and Wu on the front steps. "Sorry. Let's go." Morro gave you an odd look, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes with a huff. "Don't act so worried. If you can survive Sensei's training, you can survive anything." You snorted and ruffled his black locks. "Being a ninja is a completely different concept than being a student at school. You learn things you don't even use, so it's a waste of time."

Wu shook his head dismissively. "It is not a waste of time. What you will experience there is something even I can not teach."

"Which is?"

"Social skills." he plainly replied with a smile. You zipped up your (f/c) sweater as a chilly breeze passed. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, leaving the moon high in the sky for drifting clouds to cover. "All you know is the monastery," continued Wu, "and life as a ninja. What happens if you are thrown in a situation you cannot 'ninja' your way out of?" You pursed your lips together, which Wu took as an 'I don't know'.

"Exactly, which is why you must get out in the world and learn." he said with a reassuring smile. "You are sharp, so I have no doubt you will be okay."

You continued down the monastery steps in a comfortable silence. It wasn't unnatural for you to be quiet at this time of day, especially since you weren't a morning person. Once you finally descended down every last step, Wu summoned his elemental dragon.

When Morro asked why he didn't do it in the first place, Wu said it was to get a bit of 'exercise in' and to learn a lesson of 'gratefulness'. Boy did the last one stick, because despite practically living at the monastery for more than half your life, rarely had you ever ventured down the steps.

The cool, crisp air against your face, the natural wind in your hair made by nature and not Morro, and the view of the endless skies just made you feel so alive. In the air suspended upon a golden dragon was something you missed. "When was the last time we got around like this?" you shouted over the wind. Morro grinned as brightly as the rising sun. "'We should do this more often Sensei!"

He chuckled a little and gave his reins a good shake. "Hold on!" The dragon flapped his wings and you were suddenly speeding through the skies, cutting passed the cool winds at speeds no man could ever reach.

"SENSEI!" you screeched. He laughed loudly as Morro cackled in your ear. "SCARED, (L/N)?!" he shouted.

"I'M NOT--! SENSEI! OH MY--!"

The dragon steadily slowed, continuing into a descend towards the city below. Wu let out a playful laugh. "That was a lesson on keeping your guard up, no matter how comfortable you may be." You placed your free hand over your pounding heart with a long sigh. "Well that's a lame lesson, Sensei. I saw my life flash before my eyes."

"Did you now?" he inquired with a chuckle. Morro snickered along with him, a look of approval on his smug face. "Sensei," you grumbled, "you're more like Garmadon than you think."

Landing in Ninjago City was like being in a dream. It was bigger than any village you've ever visited, and the buildings, although in construction, remained taller than anything you've ever seen in your life. "Woah..."

Wu smiled, ushering both you and Morro towards the high school. When you set eyes on the building, you had to blink a few times to fully comprehend its size. Windows lined the three stories that seemed to stretch out all the way to the end of the block. As for te cream colour exterior, you thought it blended nicely with the modern-ish touches.

Wu guided you towards the front gates, where dozens of students plowed their way up the stairs and into the front doors. Some lingered on the front lawn to enjoy their breakfasts with friends. "It's a pretty big place, isn't it?" said Wu. Morro snorted and sassily crossed his arms. "That's why we're in a city Sensei." You rolled your eyes and pulled out your schedule.

Your Sensei placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "School is a ground for learning, so don't feel like you have to know everything. Just remember what we leanred together and everything will be fine." You tried to match the smile on his lips, but it just wouldn't happen. Besides almost cutting off one of your fingers with a katana last month, this had to be the scariest thing you've ever done.

"Our paths don't always go in straight lines," added Wu, "so don't feel like you have to have this day perfect." You nodded in understanding. Morro sent you a quick thumbs-up and a 'don't die' face that you snorted at. "Well, I'll see you after...school." You turned on your heel, preparing to march onto the school grounds like any other student.

Describing the school as 'big' and 'modern' was an understatement. It was humungous and actually quite nice to look at. You wished you could say the same, positive things about the students, but they didn't look too welcoming. Not only that, but for the first time in ages, you felt...

...out if place.

You really didn't fit in here with your sweater bearing your sensei's mark on the back and your own on the front. All the other girls here seemed to wear a skirt or dress in navy blue or black and plaid while you chose to wear trousers specifically for martial arts. The boys were no different with their white button ups, sweater vests or plain sweats.

You checked the dress code before hand to make sure you wouldn't embarrass yourself, but even then, here you were, already afraid of making the mistake of wearing the ancient fashion of your Elemental Master ancestors under your (f/c) sweater.

It didn't take a genius to know you were rhe new kid on the first day of school. Everyone else seemed to know each other from middle school or even primary and long before that while you had no one. They loved to gawk at you and side-glance your clothing as if you were some foreigner from a different realm. It was then that you began realising just how disconnected you had been from the trendiest and latest fashion.

"Only paintings wear her clothes."

"Don't tell me she's a villager."

"I bet her dad's a farmer."

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Your clothes were still widely used in not only martial arts, but villages and small towns. You also weren't a villager, and for the record, your father wasn't a farmer when he was alive. He had to be one of the greatest Elemental Masters and just so happened to pass on his element, light, to you.

You were proud of your heritage, but the amount of scorns you kept getting throughout the day kind of made you want to believe you were someone else.

Lunch was slow to come, especially during your algebra one class. When it finally hit you that it was time to eat, you made your way outside to take a seat far away from the students sat at picnic tables in the courtyards or laid flat on top of blankets on the grass. You took refuge from all the drama and scowls under a lone tree.

The music of its swaying leaves helped calm the ache in your heart. It was a reminder of all the lessons you learned throughout your life from your sensei Wu and Garmadon. You had to be patient, kind, calm and--

"Oh I'm so, so sorry." You looked up at the girl who had spilt her soda pop over your head. She and her two friends quietly snickered to each other as you wiped away the sticky mess with your (f/c) handkerchief. A strained smile made its way onto your lips. "It's...fine."

"Here, let me help you." One of the girls kicked at the dirt, sending pieces of fresh grass and pebbles into your face. She let out an evil laugh as her friends joined along. "Sorry, I can't touch you or I'll be infected with your grandma fashion." You wiped the dirt out of your face and jumped to your feet. "I dare you to say that again."

"If I touch you, I'll be infected with your grandma fashion." the girl repeated with a smirk. Perhaps Morro had rubbed off on you, or you had been thinking about your old Sensei Garmadon too much, because before any of the girls could blink, you snatched your lunch out of your bag and flung it at the group of girls.

One of them blindly lunged at you, making a mad grab for your hair and giving it a good tug. You wrapped your hand around her wrist and gripped it tight enough to cease her blood circulation. She let out a cry and let go as you swung around and blocked a punch from her friend.

A crowd began to form as you wrestled with the girls. All of the drama could have been over if you had gone full-out and actually fought back, but the Art of the Silent Fist worked well enough with them. You weren't about to give what your peers wanted: A fist fight.

"What is going on here?"

You dodged a punch to the face and spun around as another girl made a grab for your collar.

"Hey! No! Stop fighting!"

You paused in your footsteps as your History teacher parted through the crowds like the Master of Water, Maya. He suddenly let out a shout and threw out a hand, but you were too late to notice the uppercut to your jaw.

Later that day, you awoke to the one and only face of your Sensei, Wu. As you sat up in bed, he handed you a cup of warm Jasmine tea. "How are you feeling?" You rubbed your sore face and head with a low groan. "I'm dizzy."

"That must have been quite a punch, because you've been sleeping the day away." he said. You took a sip of your tea, surveying your bedroom with a frown. "You...picked me up from school?" Wu nodded. "Your bag is in the kitchen if you're wondering. Dinner should be done in another hour; I made some soup that'll make you feel better."

You caught a glimpse of your bedside clock, your jaw unhinging. "Eighteen thirty [6:30PM] already?" You jumped out of bed and scrambled towards the door. "Why didn't you wake me up? I have so much homework to do, and I was supposed to help you cook--" Wu calmly stood from his seat and placed his hands around your shoulders. You didn't even realise your hands were shaking until he guided you back towards your bed and took a seat at the edge with you.

"What happened at school today?" His calm eyes were swirling with a serious concern you couldn't ignore. It made your heart ache again, and all words everyone threw at you flow into your head like a broken record. The faces of your peers and their smiles they hid behind their hands, the pointing and the laughing, and then the fighting...

...oh, how could you forget, even for a moment, how awful that made you feel? Hos awful everything made you feel? The hot anger in your chest seemed to grow heavier and heavier.

If I touch you, I'll be infected with your grandma fashion.

Only paintings wear her clothes.

Don't tell me she's a villager.

I bet her dad's a farmer.

"(Y/n)?" called Wu. "Are you alright?" You heaved in a shaky breath to centre your hurricane of emotions. "I...I'm fine Sensei." You forced a smile. "Those girls were only looking for trouble. I got distracted by a teacher telling them to stop, so that's why I got hit. If I weren't distracted, you bet I would have blocked that punch." You chuckled a little to try and lighten the atmosphere, but Wu wasn't so easily convinced.

You should have expected that, but you hoped he would take the bait and just leave you alone for a bit. That was all you wanted, and that's how you liked it. Wu knitted his brows together as if he were searching your face for any clues of what else might've happened. "Is that all, or...?"

"Yeah." you casually replied. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch." Wu slowly nodded before leaving your side and venturing into the hallway. You were about to flop down on your bed, but he quickly popped back into your doorway. "I forgot to tell you, Garmadon's visiting for the weekend." Your eyes lit up, all that anger and weight in your chest vanishing. "Really?" Wu smiled so you did too, for real this time around.

"Yes. For real."

---

The only motivation keeping you from ditching school and running all the way back home was the fact that Sensei Garmadon would arrive in just two days. All you had to do was survive two more days of school before you were free on the weekend to do whatever the heck you wished. In theory, two days didn't seem so bad, but as soon as you entered the jam-packed building flowing with sleep-deprived teens, you realised just how long two days really was.

Along the way to your homeroom class, a guy had the audacity to spit his chewing gum at you. Of course, you dodged the flying projectile like a pro, but someone collided with you last second and the gum landed straight in your hair.

You remember spending the rest of the day dealing with fifty thousand insults about your clothing again, a few angry teachers giving fourty-five minute lectures about yesterday's fight, and having your whole grade blame you for the incident. Someone slammed you into a locker for payback while a group of girls decided it would be funny to trip you in the hall and scatter all your classwork on the floor.

You scrambled passed people's sneakers, madly grabbing at all the papers as if your life depended on it. You didn't have time to sort the jumble of packets and loose worksheets back into their respective places, so you threw everything in your bag and made a run for your next class.

Your teacher looked you up and down as you took a seat at your desk. "Late and running in the halls?" she inquired. "Detention! Tardiness will not be tolerated in my classroom." Your classmates sent you side-glances as you covered half your face with a hand. "Great. Could this day get any worse?" you grumbled.

Fast forward: it did. Passed the bullying and passed the tripping in the halls, the gum in your hair refused to come out, so during lunch, you had no choice but to cut it. You being you, whipped out a kunai knife that a teacher 'so happened' to see. And besides getting another detention slash possible suspension, you hadn't even started cutting your hair, leaving you with a wad of gum practically super-glueing all your locks together.

Wu had no idea about the detentions, so when you exited the school about an hour later than you should've, you deeply wished you hadn't left at all. He had his hands on his hips as you made your way down the front steps, and Morro looked like he wanted to give you a good punch in the face.

"I heard you had two detentions in a row!" exclaimed Wu. "What happened?" You handed him a yellow slip of paper and stuff your hands in your pockets with a huff. "Both my teachers want to have a 'parent teacher conference' with you tonorrow."

Wu looked like he was torn between being angry and confused, but maybe that was because he realised just how exhausted you looked. Your shoulders were slumped while your voice remained in a monotone, and you had your hood pulled high over your head (to hide the gum stuck in your hair). Morro stood on his tippy-toes to get a good look at the yellow slip of paper. "What did you do?" he questioned. "You're usually the 'good' one."

A bitter laugh escaped your throat that you couldn't hold. Wu frantically looked up from the paper to get a good look at your face, a deep frown spreading on his face. "Can you please take off your hood (Y/n)?" His voice was gentle and soft, as if he were afraid of scaring you.

"Yeah, I can't see your face."

Wu gave Morro a scolding shake of his head before turning back to you. "There's no point in hiding your face."

"I'm not hiding my face...I just...I like keeping my hood up." Wu folded the yellow paper and put it in his pocket with a sigh. "Come here (Y/n)." You hesitantly trudged over to him and he placed a hand on your head, gently pulling down your hood. Morro gasped as Wu's gaze bounced from your tired expression to the wad of gum tangled in your hair.

"Who did this to you?"

You wanted to tell him that it was an accident, that someone left their gum on the table and you were just unfortunate enough to lay your head down and get it stuck in your hair. But then you saw the fierce fire in his eyes and felt his strong resolve to help you. There would be no point in lying to him and Morro if he'd eventually find out anyway.

"Some guy at school did it."

"How?"

"He spit it at me. I tried to dodge, but someone pushed me and it got stuck in my hair."

"What about the detentions?"

You hesitated. "It...it was..." Morro pursed his lips together angrily. "Don't you dare lie!" he exclaimed. "Lying doesn't grt you anywhere." A sigh escaped your lips. "I was late to one of my classes because someone tripped me on purpose in the hallway. Some other guy threw all my stuff on the ground, so that's why I was late. I got another detention after that because I tried to cut the gum out of my hair with my kunai."

Wu's eyes doubled in size. "You what?!"

"I tried to cut my hair with a kunai knife because I didn't have scissors." you repeated. Wu ran a hand over his forehead. "Father, help me." he grumbled. "(Y/n), you do know that weapons are prohibited? This...school is..." He trailed off and motioned for you and Morro to follow him.

"How about we go home and discuss this over a nice cup of hot tea?"

PART 2

[marshmallowprotection]

Calluna

Pairing: Saeran Choi/Reader

Fairytale AU.

Description:

The Prince has been bound to the castle walls, and he’s never been able to leave from it. The only place that he has to escape to are the books that he reads and the garden that he’s allowed to venture into every evening. But, what happens when he encounters someone that has eyes that know a world unlike his own?

Inspired by a drawing by @sensetenou​

Chapter Index

Chapter One: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Two: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Three: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Four: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Five: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Six: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Seven: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Eight: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Nine: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Ten: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Eleven: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Twelve: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Thirteen: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Fourteen: Tumblr | AO3 Chapter Fifteen: Here! | AO3

Chapter Fifteen

You were bound with shackles against your ankles, sitting at the side of the king’s throne as if you were his glorified pet. 

The former-queen had taken her time to clean you up and dress you up like some kind of doll. You were wearing all black, as to be expected of someone that would soon lose their life but Saeran had made it clear that you weren’t going to die. 

Nothing made sense, but you had no choice but to bite your tongue. You had your answer as to what would become of Saeran in due time and now, your only hope was that you would be spared the sight of his end, or by some miracle, whatever Jihyun planned to do was going to work. He knew your friend Zen, and Zen had wanted to rescue you. 

Zen’s reach couldn’t protect you, but you knew that he would be the only person to know with certainty that you weren’t Red Hood. He was the only person in the world that was on your side and for once, you wished that you had listened to him and left when you got the chance to run. It would have been the smart thing to do. 

Perhaps, if you had taken a boat to freedom across the sea long ago, things would be different than they were now. It was funny, you missed the sea and the open waters. Growing up, you had lived in a town by the sea someways away from the main center of the kingdom, and the water called to you as it called to adventure for many people. 

However, your parents had wanted you to stay in your studies and become a scholar. They would be disappointed to know that you had thrown all your studies away and saw where you were now, but it didn’t matter anymore. There was no changing this and there was no changing what was happening, no matter how much your heart told you to swat the crown from Saeran’s head.

You weren’t even sure if the effect of the crown would leave if it left his head. 

Magic was still this abstract construct where anything and everything cruel was a possibility. This witch who wanted to use her power for her gain would ensure that you didn’t understand what was happening enough to stop it. She may have admitted that she planned on killing everyone but that was not explaining how the magic worked. 

You were alone, save for the guards posted at the door to ensure that you didn’t get out of your chains and run. As if you had any tools to pick your lock and leave! Your fists clenched at the fabric of your sleeves tightly, grinding your teeth despite yourself as the frustration tore through you.

The amount of desperation that you felt was tried and true. 

The anticipation was meant to drive you mad. 

Saeran was miking the time with whatever he was doing because the sun had already started glow with the embers of the evening sun soon to set on the horizon and break away to the long night with no moon to enshroud the world; The only thing remaining for yourself and others stuck under the haze was a path of anguish. 

And here you were, trapped like a sacrificial lamb. 

There was nothing for you to do but ruminate and sit. Your mind wandered for quite some time as you grew used to the way that you were ignored and set aside, and the silence was far more welcoming than anything that you had dealt with thus far. You thought perhaps that your punishment was to sit here and wait, forever, for no one to come and see you. 

It was almost worst than being trapped in the basement. At least down there, you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you. It was dark and you could grow accustomed to the dark as you had with the chains that had bound you to Red Hood. It wasn’t about your comfort, no, you weren’t going to be given that anymore. 

The queen made that abundantly clear when she told you what you would be within the coming days and that was deceased. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed but eventually, the doors to the room opened and you were given the sight of Saeran. A crown set upon his brow and the black cape over his shoulders letting you know that he’d just returned from his business outdoors where the smog had started to overrun the grounds of the castle with the brewing guard. 

Gone were the flowers and sunshine, replaced with anger and smoke from the brimstone fire to burn you all alive. 

His eyes rested squarely on you as the sneer caught your eye. He was seemingly happy to see you caught in his trap next to the phone, beaming at the sight of the chains around your legs that kept you close to his side. He said nothing to you but he took his spot on the throne, resting his head in his hand as he gestured to the guard. 

“Send them in,” he ordered. 

Who?

Your answer was given to you sooner, rather than later, as you watched the guard bring in some very familiar faces from the dungeons. You knew them from your work with Red Hood, one by one, you took note of countless thieves that were in the same boat as you. They had no choice but to obey and to serve the crooked man. He had left them for dead, and whoever hadn’t been caught was now forced to… you knew they had been forced into the mindless army that the queen was creating and thanks to Red Hood, there was an endless supply of people who already meant nothing to many. 

These people would likely face the same fate as them, forced to be drones that would die for the queen that wanted to bend everyone to her will. 

If they didn’t get killed first as an example of what would happen against those that turned against her, then they would likely die on the fields of battle as those kingdoms tried to fight against the threat that would usurp them all. They all saw you as well, and you knew that they knew the truth. But, if any of them pitied you, they didn’t say. 

They wouldn’t tell the king that you weren’t Red Hood, either. 

There was a chance that many of them could stay in the grace of the true Red Hood if they didn’t bow their head to this. You were merely a puppet for them and there was nothing… no one that would stand up for you. You looked down at the floor the second that you knew that nobody was going to come to your side or defense. 

You accepted that. 

There was no fighting back against this disgraceful degradation. 

Saeran didn’t like that. The chains binding you to his side were tugged hard and you were forced against his side, a gasp leaving your lips as he gazed into your pathetic eyes. You had nothing to say because you were too stunned for words. 

“Pathetic, huh?” his voice called your attention. “I suppose you’ve all realized that your leader had submitted to my will. It wasn’t like they had any say in the matter, hahaha. Take this as a lesson, never dare turn against the crown or you’ll be strung up like my pretty pet here is. You’ll wish for death as mercy instead.” 

There was a resounding silence to his words. Nobody had anything to say in regards to that. They all knew well what he was saying and where they would be. The frenzied part of you almost wished that you were under a curse as well, the humiliation dragging against your pride and kicking you where it hurt the most. 

Saeran’s gaze never left yours. “Have you decided to plead for mercy? Come now, you’re amongst your fellow criminals and allies. Why don’t you show them how weak you truly are? Why don’t you let them know who it was that brought you to your knees?” 

And you were like a caged animal, pushed against the wall with nowhere to go as the bigger monster forced himself into your personal space for the kill. Despite yourself, you shivered because you felt his shaking excitement at your fears. A part of you wanted to believe it was the crown but another part of you had a feeling that this angry, vindictive side of him had always been there. 

Angry at the fate that the world had dealt him. 

Angry at what happened to Ray because he trusted others. 

Angry because he was fueled by the people around him. 

“Tell them,” he persisted. “Tell them what you did, Sparrow. Tell them how you tried to trick a crowned prince to steal everything he had and what it earned you. You know, go on, tell the story from your perspective! I’m sure you had a good laugh about it when your men at your side, laughing at the prince you tried to ensnare with your wiles.” 

You knew that fighting against his words was fruitless, but still, you hated the way that he looked at you like you were the source of the grief. It wasn’t you that had hurt him or trapped him here. It wasn’t you that perceived him to be a fool and took him for the trouble. It was you that had extended your hand to a lonely soul who wanted a friend, and it was you that wanted to protect him.

You were willing to throw your happiness away to ensure that Ray would live. 

You were not Red Hood. 

You were not a caged bird for anyone’s amusement. 

And if that resistance that existed within your spurned heart, Saeran could see it from the way that you looked at him. Opening your mouth, you could feel yourself about to say something that you knew would be something you’d regret in the coming hours, but the humiliation of everyone seeing you in such a miserable state. 

At least, you would have said something, if it wasn’t for the newcomer that was dragged into the room, a verbal lashing on his lips as he kicked against the constraints that he had been locked away in. It was a voice that made your eyes snap away from Saeran’s immediately, looking for the warm crimson orbs that had looked after you for years as a big brother. 

“If you think you can treat me like this, you’re sorely mistaken. I didn’t do anything, so you can unhand me! Do you think this is any way to run your damn kingdom’s guard? You’re all a damn disgrace to the guard.” 

“...!” 

“Ah, the White Devil,” the chuckle from your side was enough to warn you of something that no one was supposed to know. “It took some work to track him down but there was no way that I could let your right-hand man go without punishment. He’s been living in disguise as an actor for some time, but those features aren’t ones that he can hide.”

Your heart sank as you met Zen’s eyes. He saw you trapped and narrowed his eyes at the king. It was the same boy that you had told him about as far as he knew, and if anything, it confirmed that he had given you the wrong advice. Zen would do anything to protect you, you knew he would, and the only reason he had gotten caught was that Red Hood likely leaked his identity. 

He lashed out further against the guards, “How dare you,” he growled. “How dare you treat them like a filthy animal—”

Zen was forced onto the ground the more that he fought them, and before long, his head was pressed to the ground. He was exhausting himself and only making things worse for himself. Jihyun had told you that he wanted to rescue you, but there was no chance that even he could come and remove you from this gilded cage.

You wished that he would have run when he got the chance, it would have been better for him, “Zen, stop fighting them,” you pleaded. You reached out an arm to him but it would never see his side. “It’s not worth it!” 

“Yeah,” Saeran mocked the tone in your voice. “Stop fighting the guard, listen to your boss, and maybe I’ll spare you some pity for your crimes. Come now, it’s worth a shot. Surely you know how to act like a gentleman. You shouldn’t act so distasteful in front of your boss, Red Hood, or your king. It isn’t becoming of a man of your age.”

With his tantrums, he had no right to talk about anger problems. 

Zen’s fight slowly died down the longer that he was forced down, and when the fight in his arms had calmed down, he looked at Saeran. “That’s where you’re wrong. They’re not Red Hood,” he said. The clamor in the room had started to quiet down as you felt the man beside you tense with anger. “They have never been Red Hood. You should know this, king, or have that crown of yours sucked all of the power from your head?” 

“How dare you question my intelligence—” 

You were pleading with Zen silently to stop fighting. You cared about him but he didn’t have to throw his life on the line for yours. He had already done that when you were a child and you refused to let him suffer through something just because he wanted to protect you again. You were an adult now and this was your cross to carry. 

“I question your objectivity,” Zen corrected him with a scoff. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that someone as young as them could kill a seasoned criminal and control his command? Not only that but convince everyone that they are him so easily. If Red Hood had been killed, then one of those that had much of his power would take that spot. You think a penniless sparrow could fight grown fighters with no injuries?” 

Zen was a slave to no one, not anymore, and you could see the fire in his eyes that spoke of a man that feared no higher power. 

“It seems to me like someone wants you to believe that it was the sparrow instead,” he continued as he met your gaze. “And, you’re far too angry and prideful to admit that you might have been wrong and you’ve committed to a lie that you’ve been told to believe.”

You could hear no sound in the mirror as Saeran rose from his chair. Nobody dared to make a sudden noise or movement as he approached Zen. The guard hoisted from the ground so that he would be forced to look into the mint eyes of an angry demon with nowhere to go but here in the pits of hell that he walked through.

“Filthy mutt,” he hissed. “If you value your miserable life then you’ll stop while you’re ahead and shut the hell up. I’ll string you up by the gallows and force the bird to watch as it happens, and it will be all their fault for not teaching you respect.” 

“If anyone should learn some respect, it’s the man lying right as he speaks to me about what he believes,” Zen spat with vigor.  “They cared about you with all their heart and you’ve repaid them by turning  against the only person in your life that wants to protect you from those that abuse your authority.” 

Silence. 

“If they cared about me as you claim, then they wouldn’t have tried to steal the crown that was meant for me, White Devil. Their true crime was lying to the crown. Theft is one thing, but toying with the hearts of others for your enjoyment is the ultimate crime. You know that. Liars are those that are the most shameful. Like yourself, conning the hearts of others to get what is it you want. I can only presume that they learned their deception from—”

“Stop!” your voice cut in before Zen could say anything in response. 

All eyes in the room snapped back in your direction as you allowed yourself to have the floor, and you ignored the looks of their emotions as your hands clenched at the fabric of the shirt.

 “It’s not worth it, Zen,” you said. “I’m already damned. Don’t throw away your life to protect me. I’m not a kid, I’m not helpless. Thank you for what you’ve done for me but please, I’m begging you, stop. Stop fighting, there is no hope left.” 

The misery in your heart told you there was no hope left. 

But, Zen refused to stop hoping for a brighter tomorrow. 

“You might have given up on your life, but I haven’t!” he said, looking at you with that fierceness he never lost. “You’re not Red Hood. Don’t take this lying down! You don’t have to pay for crimes that you never committed. Don’t let them push you around, this isn’t you. The [Y/N] I know would never wallow in pity or accept this humiliation!” 

The shame that washed over you forced you to bow your head to the floor. No matter what Zen said, you couldn’t let him suffer for you. That was why you swallowed the pooling fire instead and looked at Saeran, “Zen was never involved in any of this. Please, don’t punish him for my sins. It isn’t right. You can’t do that.” 

And Saeran just laughed in your face, “That’s where you’re wrong, Sparrow. Anyone that has had the misfortune of working with you will know the same fate in my eyes. As much as I love to hear you finally begging, I don’t think I’ll spare this one. He means a lot to you and that means he should pay for that sin with his life.”

This is the price of your sins, that voice echoed through your mind. You know what it feels like to be isolated and destroyed the same way that Ray was.

The laughter of the vindictive marionette king echoed in the chamber as wetness began to roll down your cheeks. 

“Don’t fall for it, [Y/N]!” You snapped your attention to Zen as he was being dragged out of the room to the dungeons. “That’s not who he is! Listen, don’t stop fighting! Never stop fighting for yourself up here!  You need to pluck the apple from the tree. Remember, as you did when I took you on your first assignment!” 

The… apple?

Your eyes widened. 

He was talking about the crown.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: i am once again combining requests 😔👊 here’s that childhood friends au i’ve been dying to write, enjoy!!

lucida. | akaashi keiji

word count: 3307

warnings: none, just fluff for those bygone days

(n.) the brightest star in a constellation

It had been the night of a full moon the day you’d moved into the apartment building across Akaashi’s.

You were the Sun on that moonlit night. A meteorite hailing all the way from the distant countryside. Bright and unyielding (and adorably chubby at the cheeks). That time, he was a few months older than you, but that hadn’t stopped you from cheerfully befriending him.

It was because your mothers were awfully dear to each other, and that meant that you and Akaashi would spend a lot of time together by some means. But it wasn’t like either of you hated it.

Akaashi’s mother would cook you up some pancakes when you visited, and your mother would scoop him generous helpings of ice cream when Akaashi visited. It was a win-win situation for the both of you, but aside from the cordial feasts your parents offered, you really did enjoy each others’ companies.

“L/N-chan, it’s Akaashi-kun not ‘Kaashi-kun...” he mumbled gloomily as the both of you hiked up the subsided hill only a few meters away from the residential district.

“Ehh... it’s much shorter and easier to say though,” you said, eyes gleaming with wonder as you tugged harder on his jacket sleeve. “C’mon, hurry up, ‘Kaashi-kun! We’ll miss it!”

Reluctantly picking up his pace, he followed you through the spiraling tangle of trees and rocks. Akaashi mused on why he was doing this in the first place, when he could just be laying around in his room playing video games or the sorts. But you were so insistent that he had to accompany you to God-knows-where that he’d immediately rushed out the door before you could catapult more konpeitou* at his window.

Arriving at a barren lawn of grass and wildflowers, you stared up at the sapphire dome that stretched out across the horizon. The night was windless, unexpectedly so, considering it was already teeming into summer. Freckled with ivory motes, your eyes glazed over, reflecting the blue yonder in your childlike pools.

Watching you crane your neck upwards, Akaashi grew tireless at your unjustified antics. He wouldn’t find stag beetles here, might as well go home. “L/N-chan, what—”

You only shushed him briskly, pointing up at the unstirring sky. In a low whisper, you giggled. “It’s starting.”

And like the landscape had come to life, a blazing cascade of stars poured against the deep backdrop. Diamonds, Akaashi had thought when he saw the first one skid past his sight. It’s raining diamonds.

“A-Are the stars falling out of the sky?” Akaashi gulped, gripping your hand tighter.

Like always, you smiled at him kindly. “Nope! Papa said this is called a meteor shower. It happens on a special day each year—something like a birthday, I think.”

‘Like a birthday’. Whose birthday is it? Akaashi thought, his usual pout surfacing. “Why would the meteors need to shower?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Maybe they’re smelly or something after travelling a long, looong way to get here.”

Why would they need to travel? Where are the meteors going? All his questions made Akaashi dizzy. If he’d asked you, you probably wouldn’t know too much either. Letting go of your knobbly hands to crouch over the grass, the boy observed your marveled expression with sleepy eyes.

You looked so happy to watch the sky rain down on the horizon. He didn’t get why, but seeing your laughter as the heavens twinkled and glittered at you, he felt calm. Not the sluggish kind of calm, where he’d instantly fall asleep at the slightest touch, but sort of like a calmness of “heart”. Like how he felt whenever his parents mended one of his broken toys, or how he felt when he ate his favorite sweets.

And perhaps, like how Akaashi felt every single moment he spent with you.

“Wah!” Your sudden cry of alarm nearly made him flinch. “I forgot!”

Eyes widened as he watched you scramble to kneel amongst the grass, Akaashi timidly followed your actions and clasped his hands together as if he was visiting a shrine on New Years’.

“I thought you only made wishes to shooting stars?” he questioned.

“I’m not making a wish, ‘Kaashi-kun,” you murmured, pressing your knuckles to your forehead. “I’m thanking the sky.”

The boy’s lips flattened into a straight line as he saw you softly mouth your prayers. No wishes, huh? That was new. Awkwardly taking a deep breath, Akaashi tried his hand at expressing his gratitude to the heavens.

Thank you, sky. For being bright and beautiful and everything else. Although, I don’t really like when you rain, I think L/N-chan would want me to thank it too. Thank you for all your hard work. From Akaashi Keiji. Seven years old.

He hoped that would be enough. You were still praying; he wondered what sorts of things you were saying to the sky. You reminded him a bit of the stars. Night would come and Akaashi’s head would drift over to you. Bright and beautiful and everything else. He wondered if he was actually just thanking you.

Averting his gaze towards the fading shower, Akaashi let himself drown in the calmness that overtook his heart. The world was so much bigger to young children, and to you and your best friend, the doors to the great wide Milky Way had just opened up.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Konpeitou look a lot like stars, don’t they?”

Eyeing the tiny bullet of candy between your thumb and forefinger, you let out a satisfied hum when you pop it in your mouth. A sweet and sour flavor spreads in your tongue, and you consider eating nothing but star candies for the rest of your life.

“If you eat too much sweets you’ll get cavities,” Akaashi sighs, tapping the side of your bento that you’d barely touched. “Eat your vegetables, L/N-san.”

You stick out your tongue at him yet reluctantly pick up a floppy slice of eggplant. “Geez, you sound like my parents. Can we trade, ‘Kaashi-kun? I’ll give you my carrots and fried eggplants for your sunny side up and three octopus sausages.”

“Just the carrots. And you only get two sausages.”

“Deal~!”

Promptly piling up your carrots into his lunch box, Akaashi watches your eager smile falter into a sulk. Your best friend sighs, propping his elbows up on your desk to cradle his face.

“You were barely able to focus back there in class. You didn’t stay up all night again, did you?”

“O-Of course not! I’m sleeping fine.” There you go again. Akaashi wonders what face you’ll make if he told you you were bad at lying. He decides not to touch on that today.

“But your bedroom light was on. I saw it through the window.”

“I-I just forgot to turn it off!” you flush. “And what were you doing looking through my bedroom window? ‘Kaashi-kun, don’t tell me you’ve turned to a pervert—Ow! That hurts, ‘Kaashi-kun!”

“Don’t accuse me of ridiculous things if you’re going to lie. Your bedroom window is right across mine, I’d have known even if I wasn’t trying to.”

Holding up your hands to the spot where Akaashi had flicked your forehead, you give him a faux pout of defeat. When Akaashi gets violent, you know you wouldn’t be able to get away with anything. No matter how much konpeitou you bribe him with.

“I was just trying to get a good look at the stars again,” you mumble, the candy in your mouth splitting in half with a roll of your teeth. “Lyra and Aquila are getting pretty noticeable this time around.”

Akaashi racks through his mind to recall the right information you’d mentioned to him from all those late-night talks through your balconies. “Hmm... you mean the Tanabata* constellations? The ones representing Orihime and Hikoboshi, right?”

“Yep~! Vega and Altair are going to be at a spotlight during this year’s festival, so I made myself a promise to track down it’s progress until it’s over.” Dreamily sighing into your palm, you smile. “Orihime-chan and Hikoboshi are finally going to see each other again, what a pain to be separated like that... Aah, I’m super lucky that ‘Kaashi-kun’s balcony is just a reach away...”

Your slip of the tongue doesn’t go unnoticed by your childhood friend as Akaashi’s face burns crimson. You nearly forget that you’re not children anymore—that you’re past the ages of bathing together nude in a flimsy inflatable pool smack in the middle of Akaashi’s living room. That you’re both hormonal teenagers and there’s a very high possibility that you’re very much past the feeling of “just friends”.

“I-I see...” Akaashi clears his throat. “But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you’re skipping out on sleep! You have to rest up, L/N-san, even if there’s a planetary convergence out in plain sight.”

“A planetary convergence! I’d never miss something like—Ow! Okay, okay, I get it! I’ll try not to miss out on too much sleep next time.”

Leaning back on his chair, Akaashi’s lips wrap around the plastic straw of his strawberry milk. He tries to slurp something up to soothe his mind, but only a crackly noise erupts from the carton. His eyebrows twitch in annoyance; if he doesn’t get your sleeplessness out of your system soon, you’re in worlds of trouble.

Akaashi doesn’t want you to suffer. He hates it when you do. There’s only so much he could do as your best friend, but if there was a chance for him to let your mind off things for just a moment... that would do him ounces of favors. Just a moment for the both of you, like the olden days. A moment away from Bokuto-san and the Volleyball Club. A moment away from your collapsing Astronomy Club. If Orihime and Hikoboshi would listen to his wishes, he hopes they’re listening to him now.

Please let me be with L/N-san. More than anything else.

“Ah,” he perks up. “Your family has confirmed the meet-up point for this year’s Tanabata Festival, right?”

Beaming brightly, you barely notice the faint blush on your classmate’s cheeks. “Yep! Don’t forget to remind your parents, alright? It’s a nice tradition that our families get to hang out every year during festivals~ My grandma said she’s going to come this year!”

“How nice. I haven’t seen your grandmother in a while,” he says. “H-hey, L/N-san... you think that old observatory is still there?”

“Ah, you mean by the hill? I think it is.”

And Akaashi smiles. The softest smile that you think he could ever muster. Just for a spare instant you think you’re seeing another wonder of the skies. A blessing that takes the form of your childhood friend... until the bell rings, signaling the next period.

Akaashi taps your shoulder quietly as he turns towards his own desk. “On the day of the festival. I want to show you something, so... could you ask your parents if you could stay for an extra hour or so?”

You don’t even realize your heart is racing hard enough for someone to hear. And you can only nod at your childhood friend who’s not quite a ‘friend’ anymore at this point.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

When you make a wish upon a star, how much are you willing to share them with another person?

Akaashi can only remember glimpses of what he’d wished for all those years ago. Better grades, a new toy, hope that onigiri would come down raining on him one day. It was always the normal wishes for him (and most of them didn’t really verge on being too weird) which is why he had no problems with sharing them with you.

On the other hand, you were more secretive about your wishes. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to be so predictable about it...

“So you wished for that new telescope?”

“Aaah, ‘Kaashi-kun! Did you read my tanzaku* or something?! Rude!”

He sighed. “I don’t know. Probably has to do something with how much you’ve been saying ‘telescope’, ‘telescope’, ‘telescope’ in your sleep lately.”

He laughs at the memory of your beautifully flushed face. How old were you then, twelve? It was during this exact same festival too. Packed and stuffy just as always. You were radiant that night. A shooting star lighting up the universe with a simple grin. And Akaashi wonders if any constellation would ever be able to size up to you.

“‘Kaashi-kun! Sorry we’re late!”

Yukata*. A plum blossom-patterned yukata that draped over your body like a silk curtain. Akaashi has only counted two times in his life where he’d seen you wear something like that. One, the funeral for the old ramen shopkeeper in your apartment. Two, the cultural festival in your second year of middle school. Akaashi’s mind goes completely blank and his lips creep up into a smile as he doesn’t even hide his obvious blush anymore.

“‘Kaashi-kun, i-is my yukata okay?” you falter at his gaze. God, did he have to stare so much? “I probably look silly.”

“N-no! Y-you’re...” he shakes his head profusely. Beautiful? An angel? A gift to mankind? The only word good enough to measure up to your splendor was—

“Perfect. You’re perfect.” He twinkles. “I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

If you hadn’t dug your shoes so deep into the ground, you were sure your knees were going to buckle. Friends don’t normally call their friends ‘perfect’ with that expression, right? Particularly Akaashi with that comical poker-face of his. That’s unfair, ‘Kaashi-kun.

Right at the perfect second, your mother calls over to the both of you. “Hey, kids, want to write some tanzaku?”

“That’s alright, Auntie. I’ve already hung mine up when I got here.” Akaashi turns to you, still averting your gaze from him. Cute. “What’re you going to write this year, another wish for a supermoon?”

“Secret~” you wink impishly. “How about you?”

The boy hums quietly before returning your wink. “Secret.”

You grit your teeth. “Oh come on, you usually tell me anyway! Say, tell me? Is it something embarrassing? Where’d you hang it? I want to see!”

Akaashi only chuckles. Gently patting your head, he urges you towards the display of bamboos and streamers arching over the entrance to the festival.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Now let’s go and enjoy Tanabata before the stars decide to give out.”

Taking his hand, you gleefully lead him into the throngs of people. And he’s thankful that you do, because right now, it would be troublesome if you looked back to see the intense blush that covers him head to toe. Right now, he’s going to enjoy the festival with you. And later, well... There is always the perfect moment for everything, and Akaashi wants to make sure of it.  

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

It’s a bit ironic, to be fair.

Something nostalgic hits him in the back of his head as he drags you through the trees and rocks towards the moonlit hill. Funny. You had always been the one to take his hand and encourage him to try something new. Stargazing, making friends, even a small push for a taste of volleyball. There are so much things he wanted to thank you for and he hopes whatever he was going to tell you tonight is worth it.

Akaashi’s hand on your wrist is warm as you approach a large clearing. Just overlooking the slope are the luminescent lights of the festival, like crystals that make the night glow even brightly. When he turns back to check on you, your wrist tethers upon scorching, but you make no move to pull your hand away.

“I-is this—?” you gasp.

It’s almost ethereal. No, it is ethereal. Shards of the Milky Way spread beautifully against an azure curtain, presenting itself to the both of you in a manner reminiscent to a dancer in motion. Threads of purple and rose weaves through the stars and wrap together like the hands of Orihime and Hikoboshi, bound together by fate. This is the essence of Tanabata, and you’re here to see it up-close-and-personal.

You don’t even notice Akaashi’s hand slowly creeping down your wrist to entwine his fingers with yours. He watches your features contort into a smile that showers meteors in his stomach—he wonders how amazing it is that he’s lasted this long in your heavenly presence.

“Do you like it?” he murmurs quietly.

‘Kaashi-kun... He must’ve spent so long researching about the timing and the shortest path to get here. “Thank you, ‘Kaashi-kun! Thank you! Oh wow... I can see the sky really clearly from here. You must’ve worked very hard... It’s beautiful.”

Akaashi raises his free hand to slip a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Not as much as you.”

You hold in your breath, the feeling of your best friend’s fingers lingering upon the leaf of your ears burning. It leaves you shaking inside your yukata, and you wonder how long you’ve been reacting like this towards him.

“Don’t tease me like that, ‘Kaashi-kun,” you mutter, looking away from his rain-streaked pools.

“I wasn’t teasing. You really are beautiful.” Akaashi hesitates to bite his lip. Soft and kissable, and smelling sweetly of candied apples. “L/N-san, this entire time... I was jealous.”

The color of your cheeks must’ve been beyond a radiant red by now. Akaashi takes both your hands in his. There’s no stopping the torrent of emotions that overtake him as he continues.

“I was jealous of the stars. That you were always looking at them with amazement and love. I thought I was being stupid, but it’s really not. You’d probably get mad at me for staring at you instead of the sky during those times you took me stargazing. But I can’t help it.”

“‘Kaashi-kun...?”

“I like you, L/N-san. More than a friend.”

A lump grows in your throat, and you croak shakily. “Y-you do?”

Akaashi stutters but his words are as resolute as his gaze. “Of course I do.”

Silence hanging in the air, cold sweat begins to bead on the boy’s forehead. He’s still holding your hands—it’s warm just like you, and he worries if what he’d said might’ve ceased him the opportunity to experience such warmth ever again.

Then you laugh. Bubbly and absolutely pleasant. Resembling the coordinated twinkling of stars in the night sky. And Akaashi goes through a crisis, realizing that you’d finally seen him as a joke.

Clearing your throat, you beam kindly at him. “So do I, ‘Kaashi-kun. More than anything.”

“Ah...” he blushes deeply again and immediately finds interest in your shoes. “S-s-sorry. I thought you were going to reject me, so I didn’t really think of what to do next past this point.”

Sidling up closer to him, you let out a breathy sigh. Peeking down at you through your curled lashes, Akaashi’s chest pounds fervently against his dress shirt. And just upon his arm, he can feel the faint ba-dump of yours. How calming.

“I suppose while we’re here, we can thank the stars,” you say. “Like the old days.”

Akaashi chuckles, the rumble of his laughter buzzing under your skin. “That’d be nice.”

So you look up at the great vaults of heaven and expressed your gratitude. For each other, for konpeitou and boiled rapeseeds, for volleyball and the vast universe. Just for a moment, just for a peek, Akaashi feels the graces of Orihime and Hikoboshi shining upon him—Vega and Altair sparkling brilliantly on their stage.

The secret of your tanzaku isn’t much of a secret after all, you don’t have to admit it to each other either (much to Akaashi’s regard). It resonates within your congruent hearts like a reminder of the infinite sky that will always watch over you.

I want to gaze upon the stars with ‘Kaashi-kun forever.

I want to love L/N-san with all of my heart.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

konpeito - Japanese sugar candy that look a bit like stars

tanabata - a Japanese festival, usually celebrated on the 7th of July, based on the romantic legend of Orihime and Hikoboshi

tanzaku - a narrow strip of card where wishes are written upon then tied on a bamboo stalk

yukata - a light cotton kimono

[peanut-in-the-goal]

fair warning, I wrote this for school. Cw: gangs, violence, death

Carina lived near a beach. The salty breeze would push through her windows and into the house. She woke up in the morning to see the sun rising over the horizon. The colors would dance on the water, and the peaceful crashes of waves would be soothing. She’s always like the beach. At night, after everyone was asleep, she’d climb out her window. There was a tree planted just outside, the jump to the branch was easy.

The tree held the treehouse that she and Castor helped build. Years ago, when their dad was around more and not just some “ghost” who lived with them, he loved to build things. The math it involved and the different angles. Gears would turn in his head as he figured it out. He loved the thought of all the things he could make, it was limitless as long as he had the motivation.

The treehouse was still standing. Carina barely went in there anymore. It was full of memories, toys from her and Castor’s games were left, long abandoned as they grew up. The paper hats from when they pretended to be sailors, the toy swords made of cardboard from when they were pirates looking for the buried treasure. The old towels repurposed as capes for when they were flying around, saving the world.

They always dreamed of saving people together. They’d find someone who was in need of a hero and they’d be there. Not a superhero from a comic story though, those were too flashy and seemed to only use their powers for fame rather than focusing on the people screaming for help. Real heroes don’t care about who see them, they care about saving lives and sparing families.

It was crazy to think that was only a few years ago. Everything had been so simple then. Family meant everything, Castor was her best friend, dinner that night would be something like Mac and Cheese. Their favorite when they were kids.

But they aren’t kids now, are they? She’s seventeen, has a job working as the cashier at McDonald’s, and she’ll be off to college in a year. Carina hasn’t even applied anywhere yet, despite everyone pressuring her too.

So she climbs a tree, using the old wooden steps that were nailed there what feels like an eternity ago. Her feet hit the dirt, and the wind blows through her hair. She loves it. The town is empty at this time of night.

The street lights are dying out, flickering on and off as she walks by. It’s cold out, but she’s wearing not shoes. She leaves her jacket unzipped when she runs down the street and to the beach.

The sand is calming beneath her feet. It’s cold but not freezing, it’s perfect. She stays there., simply sitting in the sand by herself, because sometimes your own company is better than anyone else's.

She stays out there until the moon is gleaming over the ocean in such a comforting manor that her eyes start to droop. Startling herself awake, because she can’t follow asleep and have the police escort her home again, she dips her hands into the water and splashes herself in the face.

She’s hit with more adrenaline, and take off down towards one of the more secluded areas of the beach.

Carina ran through the streets of Godric, the rain was coming down hard on her. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it. Her bare feet were slippery on the wet concrete and puddles. Her thin sweater and sweats were drenched, sticking to her skin and making her shiver from the cold.

“If you care too much, you worry too much. Then you’ll never really get to live.” Caelum said that to her one night. The two stayed up late, watching some stupid cartoons on this old tv they had found. It was one of those, “Take it, it’s free,” things where people left their junk on the side of the road.

The TV was obviously years old, no longer in “new” or even good condition, but with a little tinkering and rearranging the wires they got it to work.

The lights from the cars blurred around her and she ran down one block to another. Her heart was pounding and she laughed. It was a small thing, a little manic and mad to anyone who saw her. But it was nice, she hadn’t smiled a lot recently. She was growing up, a teenager now. And apparently, the joy gets sucked out of everything when you’re a teenager.

It was the times like this she loved. The hours of the night where it was just her and her thoughts. Honestly, Carina preferred being alone over hanging out with other people. Sometimes the company was nice, Kai and Matilda were really two of the only people she didn’t mind being around.

Sometimes, when she and Caelum stayed up late at night, they’d talk. With her brother, she could practically say anything. Sometimes she had to worry about what she said, but there was a type of vulnerability that she couldn’t quite place that came in the dead of the night. It was a safe to know that whatever they said wouldn’t be repeated.

Sometimes they wouldn’t talk and just sit there in silence. That was okay. The company is what they’re both looking for, not the words that come with it.

The rain was coming down harder, and she grinned. The night had started out clear, if not a little cloudy. The rain was a nice surprise. It was probably well into the morning, at least 2 or 3 am. It was late, but there was a good chance that Kai was still awake.

Kai lived just on the outskirts of town. She had just moved out of her motor home with her dad. Carina was glad they decided to stay in their small town. It wasn’t much, certainly no amusement parks or that many town festivals, but it was home.

Kai’s house was on the cheaper side, one story, and mysterious stains on the walls. It was homey though, more than Carina’s own house at least. The Robinson’s were more a family to her than hers was anyways.

But that wasn’t surprising. It wouldn’t be hard to be better than her own family, the standards weren’t all that high.

It didn’t take too long to get to her house if you knew the right paths. Carina ran through a path that was in between two separated some bushes. The dirt had turned to mud from the rain, coating her feet. She was careful not to fall and stain her sweater, but the cuffs of her sweats were already covered in the dark, sticky substance.

She didn’t care much, stains give character, they show where you’ve been and how you choose to live your life. Whether that be reckless, careful, or somewhere in between, your clothes tell a story. Whether you want them to or not, they do.

It didn’t take long for Carina to arrive at Kai’s house. The large tree in the front with the eccentric drawings on the window made it noticeable from around the block. Carina quickly climbed on top of the trashcans before jumping and grabbing onto the ledge of Kai’s window. Luckily, she’s learned how to be quiet when she needed to not be noticed.

Perching on the thin window sill, she tapped on the glass impatiently. The light of the room was a soft green behind the curtains, thanks to Kai’s LED lights strung around the room.

After a moment, Carina sees the curtains shift a tiny bit, revealing an all too familiar eye looking at her. She huffed impatiently, poking the glass right over Kai’s eye, to signal “let me in,” because really she was a few seconds away from falling off the slippery window sill.

Kai opened the window, rolling her chair backwards to make room for Carina to climb into the house. She immediately made a puddle on the hardwood floor and smiled apologetically to the redhead.

Kai rolled her eyes fondly before standing up.

“It’s nice to see you, too.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Carina gave Kai a mock bow, but really she only managed to make a bigger mess.

“Hold on, hold on, stay there.” Kai held her hands out towards Carina, as if that made her words easier to understand. Not that they were particularly difficult to understand in the first place. “I’m going to go get you a towel.”

As Kai left the room Carina looked around. She’d been here a 100 times or more already, but she neve did get old of seeing at the polaroid pictures that covered her walls. There were pictures of Kai and herself, mot of them involving something stupid going on. Some were of Kai and her dad, one of Carina’s favorites was where Mr.Robinson has his around her, because he had said, “you’re just as much my daughter as Kai is. You’re over enough to practically live at my house already.”

Carina loved that memory, she felt that she had truly belonged somewhere for the first time since her mom died when she was four.

Kai walks back into the room with a large fluffy, green towel in her hands.

“My favorite! How did you know?” Carina slaps an over the top smile on her face, making it hard for both of them to not start laughing.

“Only because you try to steal it every time you come over.” Kai grinned, then promptly threw the towel at Carina, causing her to stumble into what she now noticed was the still open window.

“Oi! Rude!” Carina complained. “Just for that I’m not closing the window now.”

“Ri.”

“Kai.”

“Close the window.”

“Let me think about it.” Carina hummed for a moment, pretending to scratch her head before looking back at Kai. “Yeah, no, my answer is still no.”

Kai groaned, stalking past Carina to close and lock the window for her.

By the time Carina is dry and in clean clothes, it’s half past 2 am.

“How’d you know I wasn’t asleep?” Kai asked, seeming to finally remember the question she forgot.

“You’re a raging insomniac Kai, it wasn’t hard.” Carina laughed at the affronted look on Kai’s face. “But then again, so am I, so, we can suffer together.”

The two of them traded mindless banter before diving into deeper subjects.

“You know the gangs that have been popping up around town?”

Carina nodded. Of course she knew, everyone knew. It was all over the news, reports of someone gone missing, robberies, deaths. It was hard to escape the threat of violence that ran throughout the city. Her older brother and her dad belonged to one.

There were two major gangs that ruled the city. The Riders and The Silence were enemies, but the two seemed to have a truce going on at the moment. Her family was to join the The Riders, in a year Jack and her would be recruited to join.

“Yeah.” She trailed off. “Yeah I know.”

Kai nodded slowly, “What’s going to happen to us?”

Carina shrugged. “We join one, go off to college, and then when we come back we hope they’re still together.”

“I don’t want to join one though.”

Carina’s head snapped up, her long black hair covering half of her face until she moved it with a flick of her wrist.

“You know we don’t get a choice Kai. This is Godric we’re talking about. If you try to leave, or try to stay neutral they’ll kill you. Anyone unclaimed for is fair game.”

Kai agreed solemnly. “I know… just… I was talking to Willow about this earlier too. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and if I have to join one I think I want to join the The Silence. They’re the least violent in the town.”

Carina felt the breath leave her lungs. If she joined the Silence, then they would have to be enemies. Conversing with the opposite gang was dangerous and against the rules. If you were caught then you were a trader, and would have to work your way to earn your leaders trust back.

Carina exhaled shakingly. “I guess we have to make the most of these last few months then, huh?”

Kai thought for a second. “What if… What if you came with me? What if you joined me and Willow, and we could probably get Matilda to come with us too.”

Carina was shaking her head before Kai even stopped talking.

“We both know I’m joining The Riders. My families there, and I can’t leave them. That would danger all of us.”

Kai looked like a kicked puppy, it made Carina feel slightly bad, but not bad enough to make her want to change her mind.

“Just think about it, yeah?” Kai asked.

“I will.” Carina agreed. She wasn’t going to, she made up her mind years ago.

It wasn’t until her dad brought it up that Carina really thought about it. He told her that he wanted her to join The Silence. It was safer, and wouldn’t push her as hard.

Not many people really knew of her anyways. They knew Caelum and Castor, but at the younger twin she was usually forgot about. Her slipping away to join The Silence wouldn’t be very hard.

She considered it, and she agreed to it. Joining The Silence wouldn’t be the worse thing in the world, and maybe she’d get to keep an eye on her friends.

Carina called Kai after school the next day, letting her know that she was in. The plan was for Carina to move in with Kai the day before her 18th birthday, that way when The Riders came for Castor they wouldn’t find her.

She knows it’s for the safety of all of them and that she has to do this, but it hurts to know that the next time she sees her twin is probably going to be across the way when someone is trying to kill him. They’re going to have to fight each other and that’s a horrifying thought.

Moving into Kai’s house went smoothly. Kai’s dad welcomed her with open arms, getting her settled in the room next to Kai’s. It stops being labeled as the guest room and is now Carina’s room instead.

Waking up in the middle of the night and not hearing the pages in a book turning or seeing the dim lamp that Castor used to read was concerning at first before she remembered where she was.

Carina never thought that she’d miss that house, but now all she wants is to be able to go home. The Robinson’s house isn’t her home. She thought it was but it wasn’t, not when her brothers weren’t there. Not when the smell of oil lamps and cinnamon didn’t fill every room.

The walls in the room are a blank white. There are no pictures hanging on the walls, and no shelves holding her trophies. It’s a change, she can't tell if it’s good or bad but it’s there.

Keeping her family history underwraps is a lot harder than Carina thought it would be. Since she moved to Godric she knew she was going to join The Riders. She memorized their schedule, how they worked, what types of things they pulled.

The Silence was different, and she wasn’t prepared to join them. Gangs were hard, and they were dangerous, but sometimes without a little danger you aren’t gong to make it out alive.

Carina slipped up more, making a reference to the riders every now and then before trying her best to cover it up immediately. She saw the looks that everyone else was giving her. They saw her as a spy, a threat. She was treading on thin ice and if she wasn’t careful then she’d probably sink.

Kai’s the only one who knows who Carina’s family is. Luckily Taylor was a common enough last name that name many people were able to make the connection. Matilda and Willow were both friends with Carina since elementary school, but they never talked about their home lives. Not because they were all bad, but because they wanted to keep their lives separate. It was an unspoken rule amongst everyone in Godric. Everyone’s hiding their demons, you don’t bring up what doesn’t need to be discussed.

There are some people who tryst Carina though, they don’t see her as a spy so much as someone who does their research. After all, from what she’s let slip about the riders wouldn’t be that hard to figure out if you want to know.

Kai, Willow, and Matilda were always together. They vowed to fight with each other and to protect each other, if one was going down then they all were. But Carina strayed a little from her group, meeting Jacob and Lewis.

They were twins, it made her heart ache thinking about how much she missed her twin. Of course she couldn’t say that, settling on asking them what it was like to be a twin instead. They were questions she herself had answered what felt like 100 times over, but she asked anyways.

The three of them formed a close bond, and Carina was starting to choose her own family of those she could trust.

The twins started coming around more, merging into he friend group with Willow and Kai and Matilda. They all got along well, and shared the same views on a lot of things.

She hadn’t meant to let her guard down so easily, she didn’t even realize it was slipping until after she said it.

“Right, me and my brother Castor used to get mistaken for each other all the time. At one point we even got the same haircut just to mess with people.” She laughed. Suddenly the friend group went silent and she saw Kai wince in her peripheral vision.

“I-I mean,” Carina couldn’t think of a lie out of this, but she didn’t get time to think of one anyways.

“You have a brother?” Lewis asked.

“You have a twin?” Jacob asked louder, gaining the attention of some people sitting at some of the surrounding tables in the small cafe they were in.

Kai and Carina hurriedly went to shush them.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to say that?”

Matilda, Willow, and the twins all had their jaws dropped.

“How did we not know you had a brother? A twin at that?” Willow asked. They looked hurt at the thought of Carina keeping that from them.

“I never talked about him I guess…” Carina trailed off. She wasn’t sure how much she should reveal to them. She could tell them that he was dead, but that would dig her into a bigger web of lies. Or she could tell them about her family, and hopefully they wouldn’t turn on her for having outside connections to other gangs.

The waiter decided that right then was a good time to bring their drinks and food, placing them on the small table in front of them.

The best course in action would be to just come clean, tell them about the burden she’s been carrying and let it all out. But not there in that Cafe, it was too dangerous when anyone could hear her.

“Later.” She said, picking up her tea and swirling the cup in her hands a few times. “I’ll explain everything later.” And that efficiently put and end to their conversation .

Later she did tell them. They met at the twins house, which was an apartment that was near the local college in Godric. She told them about her parents, howo her mom died when she was four and she moved from Italy to America. How she lost her eldest brother a few years after when gangs first started popping up and he father made the wrong people mad. She told them about her father and brothers being in their rival gangs and having to move out the day before her 17th birthday.

Willow looked at her in pity, like she as the victim here. The twins seems to be torn in wanting to see the good in her but seeing the trader there at the same time, she couldn’t blame them. Matilda was calm and stoic as always. She was always hard to read, but it was just now that Carina realized she hadn’t said a thing the whole time. It was concerning, but she just had to hope that they all kept her secrets.

The news came suddenly. Everyone could feel the tension that was swarming the two gangs, increasing until it broke. Everyone was alerted that there was to be a braw at midnight, they’d meet in the back alleys hidden behind a run down soda shoppe.

The rules were no weapons, but there was always someone who didn’t listen. Everyone wouls end up bring something, but you wouldn’t use it until someone else forced you to.

The clock was ticking down, the group that had soon become a family were sitting on the floor in the twin’s apartment. They also had loads of nervous energy built up in them, and by the time the clock hit 11:45 pm they were shrugging on their coats and heading out the door.

They met up with a group of others a little ways away from the alley with 7 minutes to spare. Quickly the group grew and most members showed up.

Blair caught a glance of familiar black hair and red shoes slip around the corner of a building. Looks like her family was here.

It all happened in a blur. One moment everyone was yelling and running towards the old alley way. The shouts echoed off the walls and amplified it enough to make her dizzy. The next thing she knew someone was coming after her, knife raised in the air and ready to strike. She ducked, going in to defend herself but the other person was too fast, already changing directions and then she was trapped. She was pinned against the wall, crowded from each side so there was no escape.

She was singled out, and probably wouldn’t make it out of there. She wasn’t going to. That is, until her brothers eyes locked with hers, and then he was pulling the man off of her and he was attacked instead.

Traitor, they thought he was a traitor. And Carina barely caught him before he fell to the ground. His clothes were staining red, which contrasted against his pale skin.

Carina cried.

She cried because how could people be so- so ruthless? How can the kill, and kill, and kill, but they never showed remorse. They didn’t care. They did it for the money, the accomplishment, the fame.That did it so they could say that they- they were the one that made the light leave that kid’s eyes.

Because that’s what they are. They’re kids fighting a losing battle, trying to stay afloat but everyone just takes and takes and takes, drowning them in violence and hostility that they might not get back up from.

It’s always a gamble getting up after you’ve fallen. They don’t know if they’re going to make it, or if it was even worth it in the end afterwards.

The world is crumbling around them and no one is doing anything to save it. It’s sick. People are flying, gangs are forming and growing, and soon they’re all going to go after each other. There’s going to be a lot of bloodshed until only on gang is left standing.

And for what? To show dominance, to say that you’re better then everyone else? The world isn’t going to stop spinning on its axis while everyone stands around and tears each other apart. By the time someone comes out victorious, it’ll be too late. There’s no coming back from that. There’s no revival when you’ve already let something important die.

She tried to hold onto to what she had left of her brother, but his eyes had already slipped shut and his breathing was shallow. Kai had crossed over to her at one point, and together they carried him out of the danger area.

Hospitals wouldn’t treat gang related injuries, they already knew that. But even if they did they doubted that they could save them.

That night is filled with tears, blood, and anger. She doesn’t remember what happened after that, she doesn’t know how she got back into Kai’s house or falling asleep. She does remember the dreams though. The bravery written over Castor’s face. He wasn’t scared to die, not if it was for family.

She should have saved him, should’ve been strong enough. She promised herself that no one else was going to die for her.

The world moves on, whether your ready or not. At least that’s what she tells herself. She was supposed to start college soon, moving into the dorms was supposed happen in a week. She’s packed, and is ready to leave Godric.

Kai is going to local college here in town, but Carina wanted to leave. She wanted to get in the car and drive. But she wouldn’t leave Kai here without looking back, so she chose a college a couple states away but within driving distance.

That way she could still come back afterwards for Kai.

Leaving for college was hard. Her dad wasn’t there to see her off, and Castor wasn’t coming with her. Rigel wasn’t there to make them ramen at 12 am and Kai was staying here. Kai was there for everything in her life, having been best friends since kindergarten.

Mr. Robinson drove her to college, and helped her carry things into her dorm. After everything was in place she made sure to thank him for being more of a dad to her then her own was.

College was stressful and there was a lot of pressure she put only herself to be perfect. In Godric she learned how to handle stress. Sometimes that involved shutting down and getting her work down by going through the motions. Another thing she worked on was managing her time.

Although after Castors death she wanted his memory to live on. She picked up some of his hobbies. Reading books, memorizing quotes, he always wanted to be one of the top students in every school he went to.

It was a few weeks after school started, she got a call from her dad. She wasn’t aware he still had her number but then again there was no reason that he wouldn’t.

He informed her of Castor’s funeral date, the gangs agreed she was allowed to come, anyone who knew him was allowed to attend. Carina broke down again that day.

The day before the funeral she drove back to Godric. She spent that night at Kai’s house, where the three of them—Carina, Kai, and Mr.Robinson—would leave together to go to the funeral. Seeing her brother in the open casket was heart wrenching. He died for her and she could have prevented that.

It was her brother who took her place, and she knew it was her fault. No one was going to die for her, she’d give up her own life first.

Four years passed quickly. Most of them were full of studying and classes, every now and then the friend group would meet up, coming from their different colleges and states to get a cup of coffee or do something dumb. Occasionally Carina came home to join in the rumbles and brawls between gangs.

She grew to love the adrenaline that came with it. The thought of hurting someone else didn’t register much anymore as long as it never went too far.

Coming back after she graduated college was something she never thought that she would do. She always assumed that after college that was it, she was free. But without Kai and Willow and Matilda, she would never truly be free.

So she rented a car, and drove from her new apartment back to Godric for the final time. The three of her friends were waiting at the Robinson’s house. They had all moved in there after the death Mr. Robinson. He was battling cancer these past few years, and after holding out for a long time he lost. The big house was lonely without other occupants so Willow and Matilda offered to move in.

They left Carina’s room alone while she was gone, because even if she wasn’t living there that was still her room. She was still welcome back anytime.

Carina rolled up to the house, taking a good look at it. She pulled her keys from her bag, unlocking the door. She wanted to see the house one last time.

Matilda, Willow, and Kai were sitting around the table, eating oatmeal and scrolling through their phones.

“Ready?” She asked. Kai looked up, smiling.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The four of them drove off and away from the violent town. They were finally free and didn’t have to peer around every corner every time they went somewhere. And if Carina stopped and dropped a letter off a her father’s house then no one had to know.

[bonesthebeloved]

Everything Stays

Based on this beautiful comic by @chronophobica

Triggers/squicks: brief mention of unsympathetic light sides, crying.

Relationships: brotherly Remus and Roman, familiar Deceit and Romulus

-

Remus has been questing through the imagination out of pure boredom.

After Deceit had gone to the surface to 'spice things up' he'd been bored out of his mind. The promise that he'd be allowed outside soon enough not nearly enough to satisfy his need for a distraction.

So he'd packed himself some food and water, said goodbye to orange and off he went.

Now the plan had been to find some sort of creature or beast and befriend them, maybe wreck some havock while they were at it, but when he found an oddly familiar yet completely forgotten garden he'd decided that a little side quest couldn't hurt.

The garden was big and he knew his way around as if it were his own despite not remembering ever coming here. The feeling that he was missing something pulling him in further. His original plan completely forgotten as he walked through rosegardens and past ponds with beautiful swans and koifish. Cackling in delight as he saw a few bat's sleeping in one of the darker trees and spiders making their webs between the branches.

Roman would love this! Well, part of it anyways.

When Remus approached the middle of the garden, quietly humming and swaying along with the songs stuck in his head, he stilled. Looking closely at the fountain infront of him.

On the very top of it sat an axe.

A very familiar axe.

"Shit. Is that-?"

It was.

Creativities axe, the King's weapon, sat on top of the fountain, glinting faintly in the sun seeming to almost mock him as he simply stared at it.

They'd been trying to find it for ages. He and his brother looking all over the imagination and not a trace. Yet here it was. Out in the open in a huge garden in broad daylight.

He walked forward on autopilot, reaching for the weapon without a second thought. It felt strange, feeling it under his fingers again after such a long time. The thing seeming to almost vibrate (heh) with power as he wrapped his hand around it.

Huh. He remembered it being bigger.

He studied the light pink axe in his hands closely as a flash suddenly blinded him and there he was, a much bigger and much heavier axe stuck partly into the ground and Remus trying to desperately lift it.

He tried and he tried. He tried until he was all sweaty before remembering that he could just will his body to not sweat. He tried until the sun sunk below the horizon and he willed it back to midday with a wave of his hand. He tried until his muscles were sore and his other quest was long forgotten, the only thing on his mind getting that axe off the ground.

And when he finally stopped trying he sunk out and into his own room, not even bothering to change his dirtied clothing or wash his greasy hair before he dashed over to his brothers room.

"Remus!" came his brother's surprised shout as he kicked the door in with such enthusiasm that it hit the wall beside it. Creating a small dent his brother would wish away in no-time.

Roman was sitting at his desk, crumbled up paper and scrapped ideas everywhere around him. Looking tired in every sense of the word as Remus faintly remembered Deceit telling him something about a callback and their hopes and dreams being destroyed.

He wouldn't know either way. His connection to Thomas wasn't nearly strong enough to pick up on such subtle things.

His bond with Roman was however. And he frowned slightly as he felt the wave of stress and mental drainage wash over him before he wove it away. Focusing on the task at hand.

He'd try and talk about it later. They had more important things to discuss.

Like how Roman was going to have to help him lift a giant battle axe out from the dirt. They could deal with his brothers emotional issues later.

-

"So... Why exactly are you dragging me out of my room and into the middle of nowhere?"

They had been walking for half an hour now and Remus had been surprised when his brother hadn't spoken or complained much the first thirty minutes.

They had almost reached the garden. Remus could nearly see the first trees peeking out from over the horizon as they wandered onwards.

"I found the axe."

It was almost laughable. How fast and strong the reaction was his brother gave. "You WHAT? And you didn't tell me before? Remus this is fantastic news! Why didn't you bring it?"

"Too heavy. That's why I dragged you with me brother mine! Maybe you can help me lift it!"

Roman frowned at that. Looking sceptical as he looked his brother up and down. "Why not ask Decei-" "Busy. By the way, he'd start crying as soon as I mention the King." Roman nodded at that and stayed quiet for a moment. "Can't really ask the others. They wouldn't agree with you being there," he said, thinking out loud as they entered the garden.

He fell quiet after that, looking around in wonder and slight recognition. Remus could tell he was having the same experience as he had when first discovering it. "Familiar yet completely new huh?" "I- yeah... Yeah you're right."

It was then that Remus decided to take his brothers hand. Comfort was a thing he was still getting the hang of, but Deceit had been teaching him recently and he knew how to calm others down.

With Roman that ment physical contact and reassurance.

When Roman squeezed his brothers hand and gave the tiniest smile in response Remus knew it had been the right decision. And so they continued onwards with Remus leading the way knowing full well Roman knew the path they had to take aswell, walking through the garden in silence, hands skimming the hedges and statues covered in moss.

When they finally arrived at the center again their hands fell from eachother grasp. Remus eager to try to lift the axe again, Roman standing incredibly still. Staring at the weapon with a faint memory playing just behind his eyes were Remus couldn't see.

"Roro?" the nickname fell off his lips so easily the meaning of it almost slipped past him.

But he noticed how Roman looked up at him. Hopeful and fragile and so much like he had when they separated for good. He noticed how his fingers were twitching to reach out and hug his brother. To make sure this wasn't a dream.

And he noticed how all of the cut strings between the two of them began to slowly reconnect. A spark of hope growing into a little flame burning bright within him. The light at the end of the seemingly endless tunnel suddenly a little closer.

And the axe. Calling out for them to lift it. To hold it in their hands again and feel its power.

"Come on then Ree. Let's show this thing who's boss."

And four hands grabbed the handle, the two of them looking at eachother in silent conversation.

And Remus knew then that they would be alright. That this falling apart would be fixed again. That they had a chance to be brothers.

And two hands lifted the axe high above his head.

The King laughing loudly and open heartedly as he swung it around a few times. The thing light as a feather now that he held it in his hands.

And he danced around, twirling and jumping through the garden and enjoying the feeling of being himself again.

After a while he calmed down enough to form a coherend thought and closed his eyes. Focusing on the two halves and how they were reacting.

"How did this happen?"

"I have to talk to Deceit! He'll be over the moon to see us again!"

"The others will hate us again."

"We're finally together!"

"Why did they hate us?"

-

"Dee? Honey are you here?"

Romulus called out into the darkened livings pace of the serpent side. The axe leaning against the wall glowing faintly. Ponytail tied into a messy bun to prevent it from slapping them in the face when he ran to this location.

The inside of the room gasped loudly and then remained quiet for a full minute before Deceit emerged from the shadows looking small and frightened and oh so fragile.

"Hello buttercup." He called out again. Watching as another part of the snake's defences shattered and he started to shake. Slowly walking towards him.

"I missed you." he said, and that was it. Deceit ran the last bit of distance between them, crashing into the other and hugging him tightly while burying his head into his chest, hat flying off.

Romulus simply wrapped his arms around the lying trait and held him. Shushing and cooing. Telling him that it was alright and that he was here over and over again until the sobbing lessened to a manageable amount.

They didn't speak a word after that. Romulus didn't explain and Deceit didn't seem to want an explanation. He simply led the King inside and summoned a large pile of pillows. Plopping down and looking at the other until he did the same and movie night could start.

Deceit would want answers eventually. Hell, even the two parts of him wanted to know how this had happened. But for now, they all needed some comfort. And watching movies while cuddled close, creativity feeling whole again for the first time in years and Deceit feeling like the part of him that had been missing had finally clicked into place again was the right thing to do right now.

And as Aladin started playing and Dee put his head on the King's shoulder, loosely braiding a few strands of his long hair together, they all felt at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.

And they weren't quite the same as they had been. Their hair had grown and their personality had changed. Their balance lost and connection only now reforming. And maybe there were more insecurities and uncertainties now then there had been.

And the axe was glowing gently where it stood leaned against the closet. And while it may have earned a few scratches over the years, it still remained the same.

Just changed ever so slightly.

-

That ending went off the rails but I just wanted Romulus to hug Deceit so I made them. Sue me (please don't I'm sensitive)

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