#which is not something usual to do for spirits (at least he firmly believes so) and yet that's what he did and that's what he feels

[nadiajustbe]

Commenting on the fact that Nathaniel had added a significant role for Mrs. Underwood in his fake version of the story, Bartimaeus said something like, I hope this has lessened your inner guilt and grief, and then added that he, of course, knew nothing about it.

The most ironic thing? He DOES know, and he literally does the same thing - he selects for us, the readers, only the best moments and facts from Ptolemy's life to give us the same hope for the world of his dreams, to make him the same sacred figure he sees.

Nathaniel knew very well that the most Mrs. Underwood did was to make tea and biscuits and then die. Bartimaeus knows that Ptolemy was a human being, with his own strengths and weaknesses. But when they have to tell their stories to the public, they deliberately put the people they love in the best possible light, so that others can see, hear, and feel what they loved and cherish about them.

And then Bartimaeus says he knows nothing about it. Liar.

[bigbeautybigheart]

So today (February 25th) is the 1 year anniversary of Episode 98, huh?

I was wondering why I saw an art based on this particular part:

Beautiful smile, isn't it? But what if I tell y'all that he owes this one to MITSUKO of all people?

Yep, you heard that right! I know that for many people this episode was, as usual, ZwiYudi this, ZwiYudi that and blah-blah. But did ANYONE else actually stopped to think how without MITSUKO Zwijo wouldn't have been able to smile like that 👆👆👆? And yeah, before anyone calls me a biased shipper (cause ZwiMitsu is my big OTP), at least I am able to back up my opinion with some REAL, solid facts.

So let me remind you that this was Zwijo right before Mitsuko (and Dinova) showed up:

Right as he was in the middle of declaring his final attack, he suddenly felt a surge of pain and collapsed, weakness overwhelming him as life was rapidly leaving his body. He literally could no longer STAND, let alone finish the duel. Now imagine what would have happened if Mitsuko (and Dinova) hadn't shown up? To Zwijo this last duel with Yudias was super important, it was literally the VERY LAST thing he wanted to accomplish before he could finally bite the dust. And yeah, Zwijo did NOT expect to be revived again like he was in S3. At THIS point in 98, he saw this moment as one big, true finale to his whole existence... yet he grew so weak that he wasn't even able to declare his last, VICTORIOUS move against Yudias. Now imagine just how anticlimactic it would have been had he just died, leaving such an important duel with No Result? And that would have been exactly what was about to happen, but then-

YESSS! These two came right up to support him! And yeah-yeah, I AM aware that Dinova was also there, but the reason why I have been putting her in brackets and focusing on Mitsuko is rather obvious... if one actually bothers to think about it? Now let's see what happened at the beginning of this very episode.

Dinova was completely exhausted after her last Tag Duel which had already taken Myuda's life. And yet she used the last ounce of her strength to try and go back to Zwijo... which was something she ALMOST failed to do. She herself was ON THE VERGE OF DYING, lacking strength to even hold onto this thing she was flying on. And so, she would have collapsed in some woods, dying all alone in a desolate place among the Mutsuba Mountains.

Now THAT would have been a rather sad ending for her, right? But guess what? It did not happen as in a mere blink-and-you-miss-it moment there was a swish-! and a certain SOMEONE caught her right there and then. And who that was?

Yep! The Best Girl in the series!!! ☺️☺️☺️

So yeah, I am 100%, no, 1000% sure that without MITSUKO Dinova (and also Myuda whose spirit still lingered while she was alive) wouldn't have been there to make this wonderful scene real:

And do y'all know what is even more poignant about this whole thing? Remember just how PETTY and TOXIC Dinova used to be to Mitsuko before 98?

Geez, I used to HATE her with all my heart for bullying my girl Mitsuko 🤬🤬🤬 But guess what? It was MITSUKO who took that big step and buried the hatchet for good! Even though she absolutely did NOT have to. And especially not after the way Dinova had treated her up to that point. But! As my blog name suggests, I firmly believe that Mitsuko is not only a big beauty, but also has a big heart (and it's not just about its actual physical parameter). Yeah, Hiramori Mitsuko has the kindness and compassion that not many people actually have. And I admit, I can hardly imagine myself being able to fully forgive and even BEFRIEND someone who was shitty to me in the past. I have my own reasons for that though... but I'll digress.

What I am saying is, I believe Mitsuko does NOT get enough praise in English speaking fandom for the big act of LOVE towards Zwijo, the love that allowed him to have this beautiful and glorious moment at, what he perceived as, the very end of his life:

On top of that, it also led to Mitsuko fostering a new friendship onwards and demonstrated even more of her lovely and caring nature:

☺️☺️☺️

Oh, but you know what is even MORE poignant about 98?

The fact that initially Mitsuko HESITATED to actually go and see Zwijo, even as she knew he was about to disappear forever.

Can't blame her for hesitating. After all, Zwijo's unresponsive attitude towards her surely caused her A LOT of innermost pain. It would have been perfectly understandable had she chosen NOT to see him again... but how would his duel against Yudias end then? And what about Dinova? Talk about a little Butterfly Effect in action, kick-started by ONE decision Mitsuko made at the beginning of 97.

Yep, she had a CHOICE there, and she CHOSE Zwijo. To see him one last time.

Speaking of:

I wonder what was that "something" she wanted to tell him... Could it be that she wanted to confess her feelings to him? This question of mine was left unanswered as the only thing she said as she met him again was helping him declare his final attack (and kick Yudias's butt lol). And you know what? ...I'm actually glad that back at THAT moment there wasn't any "I love you" out of her mouth. I feel that in 98, during that duel in particular, it would have been rather out of place. That moment was absolutely about ZWIJO, and NOT about her. And this makes me be proud to be her fan: Mitsuko is truly one of the most selfless characters I know. Even if it's painful, even if it's frustrating, but she IS capable of putting herself on the back burner just so that the man she loves could SHINE at the very end of his life... even if she never gets to tell him "I love you".

...But did she actually not do enough to convey her feelings? I personally believe that she did as true love does not necessarily require words (or out-of-nowhere switches to some flower field sceneries 🙄). Mitsuko CHOSE to stand by Zwijo's side in his last moments, she CHOSE to include the girl who used to hurt her over some petty jealousy (now compare this to Yuna completely screwing everything up for some delusional "love" for Ohdo Yuga, losing the friendships she had and hurting everyone 🙄).

...Truly, I can't help but adore this part of 98. And that's why I HATE that THIS happened in S3:

Seriously? Zwijo? Did you just decide to pretend she wasn't there? Like if she was just some air? Gosh, when I saw this for the first time I was so baffled, I couldn't speak, like wtf??? 😑

And what hurt even worse was this:

Note, this scene where Yudias talked to her was AFTER she saw Zwijo again (and he behaved like a total douche 😑😑😑). Yes, she got pissed and even demolished her dango stand in fury... and yet she still proceeded to say the thing above 👆.

My poor girl 💔 You can't help but love that bastard, huh? And the moment in 98 was truly SPECIAL for you, wasn't it?😭😭😭

The warmth she could still feel... And yet! THAT! IDIOT! 🤬🤬🤬

And yeah, I'm pretty sure some people out there could go "Duuuh, just because SHE loves him, it doesn't mean that HE owes her any reciprocation 🙄". Y'know what? Shocker, I know, but I believe I do NOT lack braincells to understand that 😑 But c'mon, after this and all other instances when she helped him, doesn't she deserve at least a gaze of his towards herself? A genuine smile? A "thank you"? Like, UGH:

I was so WHAT THE HECK when I first saw this one. Like, what the hell did Yuamu do deserve such big vows of devotion? Huh??? Her "strong and deep resolve" was just as much of a bullshit as her entire plan to "become Otes". But noooo, Zwijo claimed it was his "fate" to be the stupid girl's "knight". 😑 Seriously, this and the whole ZwiYua ship tease was a mistake of nature and an abomination, YIKES 🤢🤢🤢

And then this:

??? Hello? Yuhites literally treated you like a DOG, twisting your name into various dog names, and yet? And yet??? What's with this smile? This hand hold? This sympathy? So S3 Zwijo IS capable of all that... just not towards the one woman who has always been there for him, even if he could have never expected it (like in 98)? And then there's also this:

I have only thing to say about his S3 self: What the hell is wrong with you??? 😑😑😑

Sure, he has always been far from perfect as a character, but his S3 self is just... Something, and NOT in a good way.

Nevertheless, though, even after what he had done (or, rather, NOT done aka helped bringing Velgerians back to life) and what he said, it's still as clear as day that Dinova isn't willing to give up on the precious bond she has had with him so easily.

And, I'm pretty sure, same goes for Mitsuko... cause, otherwise, she wouldn't have been grieving the him from before:

And I know how SOME people out there hate ZwiMitsu cause "uwu she deserves so much better, Zwijo is baaaad". But guess what? I've learned to treat this "opinion" like a piece of used toilet paper (lmao), ESPECIALLY since it's coming from obvious hypocrites (*cough* who also happen to ship ZwiYudi *cough* I guess Yudias would be fine with Zwijo no matter how much of an asshole he is *cough* Yudias doesn't deserve better *cough* Talk about double standards *cough*).

Oh, and I know that many people can't take Mitsuko's feelings for Zwijo seriously considering how random and silly their first meeting was... but, honestly, does it even matter? And ESPECIALLY after episode 98? Again, Mitsuko NEVER owed Zwijo anything at all, she isn't his subordinate, one of his soldiers... she's just a girl who has ever done anything for him because she LOVES him. And, in my opinion, it's stupid to deny that, to downplay her feelings, just because there was never a blatant "I have always loved you" in his face (and random petals flying around). Her actions have always spoken louder than words and THAT'S the more realistic portrayal of love.

And last but not least, as this post is getting published, we only have 5 episodes left until the finale... and Zwijo is already foreshadowed to have his very last duel in the series. Oh, and, apparently, get his ass beaten hardcore.

Dang, I HOPE the beating + that explosion are FINALLY going to fix his brain synapses and make him truly revaluate everything he has done (and realize how much of a jerk he has been). Now that would be SOMETHING!

P.S. I bet someone would 🤨 at me for bringing up some ship hate here, but lemme tell you this: mind your own business and stay in your own bubbles. I have the right to my opinion, positive or negative. Buzz off.

[wings-of-ink]

hello! sorry for the incoming macabre ask:

you said you liked ghosts, which made me think 👻... do spirits of the dead exist in the GC universe? what’s ROs’ stance on ghosts? (who’s going to get outed as a scaredy cat?) also, if it isn’t something we’ll get to see in the story, what do funerals look like? do people usually get buried or cremated? are there any special ceremonies?

i’ve read whatever i could find of your (delicious) worldbuilding but i need more; i’m hungry!!

I wouldn't say that's so macabre, as long as we're not killing off the ROs or the MC, we're good! 

This is a fun subject, really!

The people of the GC universe have varying ideas of what happens after death - sort of how we do irl - but the most prevalent belief is in reincarnation. They don't necessarily ascribe to remembering past lives or anything, but they don't think the soul of a person just vanishes after, and that it's sort of "recycled" back into the world. There are some that think the souls of the dead return to the gods they served - sort of powering them up and becoming a part of them.

Funerals in the world can be big events depending on the person - whole towns may be involved. Most people are cremated in pyres. Loved ones stand watch and speak to the departed one last time. They say goodbye or even air grievances - and it is firmly believed that the dead actually hear or understand everything that is said at their funeral. The smoke is sacred - a representation of the soul departing.

Families usually handle the body of their loved ones with any traditions passed down from within. Otherwise, you may see healers or midwives assisting. Since some are still followers of the gods, there may be something specific to those practices that they'd want done. For example, if they follow the Deities of the Stars - their service would be held at night. If they worshiped Casimir, they'd have a really really big pyre and likely be burned with a weapon. Some families simply bury any ashes or bone that remain, keep them in urns, or actually use them - mixing into a clay to make a memorial pottery of some sort. There are a few regional traditions as well. Those in the north may leave ashes at the tops of mountains. Those in the south sometimes take ashes out to sea. The middle province doesn't really have anything quite like that - burying ashes is the favored tradition.

MC's mother was burned on a pyre according to Dov's family tradition. He's from a nomadic people that burned the dead after placing a loaf of bread in their hands (often the departed's favorite kind) - sort of like a last meal. The pyre itself would have the departed's name etched in it and sometimes mourners would write sentiments to burn with them. Kip and Dov made promises to see that MC was cared for. They buried her ashes among the roots of the tree where she was found with her baby.

Spirits exist - more so known as demons - but they are not believed to be the spirits of the dead. They are their own entities but instead of being corporeal, they're magic. Demons can take possession of the living, but in the current world, this is quite rare. Gods nearly eradicated demons (at least the ones most dangerous to people), so they're a rarer find, and are drawn to strong magic and even emotion. This is why the Fields of Desolation are not pleasant. 😁 (Guess where you're headed later, teehee)

Since ghosts as we know them aren't really a thing they would know about, the ROs attitude towards demons:

Oswin–unnerved

Zahn–scared shitless

Duri–fearless (and dumb)

Rune–trying really fucking hard to not look scared

???--annoyed

Thank you for the fun question Anon! I love that you're interested in the fabric of the world. I'll try to pop this in the codex as well. ^_^

[ghcstao3]

Apparently I’m in a festive holiday mood (don’t ask but I like Winter Day Snacks & Halloween!!)

It starts w/Ghost plopping himself down w/the guys. “The fuck’s this?” he grumbled, seeing some Claymation kind-of shit—and then, he sees Jack Skellington AKA a Friend-Shaped Guy. (He may or may not have seen the movie before.) Anyway, the winter holidays come around.

To bring good tidings (or whatever), Ghost runs around during the day dressed as Sandy Claws/Jack, complete with boots, skull-face balaclava, and red fur coat (“Blood isn’t mine”). At night, he dresses as Krampus (though he tells König beforehand to avoid getting knocked through a door).

apologies it took so long to respond </33

-

The holiday season, in Ghost’s opinion, is not only entirely overrated, but also miserable, pointless, and his least favourite time of year.

For several reasons, which have all shifted in their significance over time. But now, the reason he believes so, is because he’s just bored.

There are still missions, obviously, but they seem oddly fewer nearing Christmas, so they’re all left with too much downtime. Everyone else is pleased with it, but Ghost has been itching with the need to feel useful for over a week now.

But he can only train so much to get his mind off of things. So eventually he’s forced to concede with everyone’s pestering and join the others in whatever festivities they’ve planned.

Which appears to be watching a film this time, plain and simple.

Ghost could manage that, he supposes.

The others are already midway through something that looks vaguely familiar—and through claymation, songs, and the appearance of the lanky skeleton it all centres around, a chord is finally struck in Ghost's memory as he settles into his spot in the rec room.

Though the title eludes him at the time, he knows where he's seen it before—the film used to be a favourite of Joseph's, when the kid was still alive, even as young as he'd been.

Ghost is enraptured the entire time, picking out everything he recognizes with far more clarity than he'd have previously imagined.

As the credits roll and he's finally able to wander off, he comes away with an idea.

It takes little assembly and planning considering his usual attire, but he still makes an effort. And by the time the actual holidays roll around, he's actually kind of looking forward to it, for once.

It's a minor shock for his team to see him in any sort of spirit for Christmas, but they all embrace the poor-man's Sandy Claws costume anyhow—even the questionable means by which Ghost had taken to obtain some of its pieces.

That hadn't ever been the enjoyable part of his plan, however, not since the beginning of its proper formulation.

The costume he dons after lights out is arguably far more terrifying than Jack Skellington—hell, he wears a skull mask on the regular already. Krampus, as far as Ghost is concerned, had been something more interesting to assemble.

If only because he gets to use his already silent way of moving to scare the absolute shit out of his teammates in the late hours of the evening, a brooding shadow in wait for whoever sneaks out for something well past a time they should all be sleeping.

He honestly doesn't think he's ever heard Price shriek before, like he does that night.

The whole thing is beyond amusing for Ghost—and when he finally retires his hauntings for the night, he decides the effort was worth it enough to do this sort of thing every year, just to make the holiday season tolerable.

When asked the next morning if he'd seen anything, if it'd been him terrorizing the base, Ghost firmly denies everything, and they all have no choice but to believe him.

(And maybe he's just a tad bit cruel for it, but what's a little healthy scaring when no one's getting hurt?)

[shoot-of-corruption]

Solar Plexus Chakra & Millennium Ring

Today, I'll take you on a wild esoteric journey concerning chakras and their influence on the Millennium Items!

We'll start on the Millennium Ring here and the two (three?) souls tied to it, namely Ryou Bakura and Yami Bakura (and the Thief King, should you consider the ring spirit as a separate entity, as I usually do).

First and foremost, we'll dive into a concept that has been long since a centrum of Hinduism and Buddhism and has become more relevant again due to yoga and some esoterical views and writings, exactly chakras.

A few of you probably know about them already (from AtlA for example) but for those of you, who are unaware, chakras are believed to be focal points in your body, that are subtly or not so subtly able to influence your health and general mental well-being.

Chakras run along the length of your spine up towards the very top of your head, like so:

The chakra we're looking at today is the "Solar Plexus chakra" which is placed right below the chest, where the torso goes over into the stomach area slowly.

Or THIS area right here:

or, you guessed it, right about here:

So, while our Millennium Ring is wildly chaotically changing in rope length during Manga and Anime, it is at least often shown and through the tablet represented in an area around chest and stomach, right above the 3rd or solar plexus chakra.

What does that mean for our characters though?

As I have written earlier, the chakra influences the mental and physical state and allrogether well-being of our character.

It represents, in the human body POWER, SELF-CONTROL, WILL, VITALITY, PURPOSE and DIRECTION.

It is also firmly connotated as a FIRE elemental.

When the chakra is imbalanced, aka too powerful compared to the others, it can cause you to become DOMINANT, BLAMING, SCATTERED and constantly active, so pretty much RESTLESS.

Huh, weird. Characteristics, we have very much seen in both Thief King and Yami Bakura over the course of the series.

What happens, when the influence of the chakra is weaker imbalanced then, or even deficient?

It may well cause WEAK WILLEDNESS, POOR SELF-ESTEEM, EXAGGERATED PASSIVENESS, the feeling of SLUGGISHNESS and alltogether FEARFULNESS.

Weirdly accurate descriptions of what Ryou Bakura has to face during his possession of the Item.

What tends to block your healthy usage of this chakra is the most heartbreaking though.

SHAME. Created due to trauma, stored emotions or learned patterns.

Both Thief King and Ryou Bakura are ashame about having been to weak/unable to help their loved ones, they just 'resolve' their struggles with this on the exactly opposite exaggerated spectrum. While the Thief overacts the chakra, Ryou completely blocks and underwhelms it.

The only way to recover balance and control over this chakra and 'unblock' it is Self-Assertation and Self-Compassion, sadly both characters throughout the series fail spectacularly at recovering their ground concerning this issue.

It is no wonder that Yami Bakura speaks of himself as "Ore-sama" and it's also no wonder that Ryou doesn't seem to find a strong footing in a friend group!

The moment's when Ryou does assert himself are glorious powerhouse movements and in my eyes, it's not even weird that he triumphs over Bakura in those moments!

Following this knowledge, it is no wonder that the spirits of the Kul Elna villagers chose the Millennium Ring as a dwelling place and it is no wonder that the Thief ended up there with them.

It is the most balancing and vital chakra of your body and a lot of religions believe that the stomach houses the soul, not your chest or the heart!

They aren't interested in spiritual power, the raw need to survive inside something to simply cling to vitality and the last shreds of life conducted them directly into the stomach area, towards the Solar Plexus chakra, directly into the Millennium Ring, sitting over the most influxing power source of the whole body.

THIS WAS A LOT TO TYPE ON PHONE!!

I hope you enjoyed it!! :3

[beanghostprincess]

Okay so, I came up with this One Piece theory that I think no one else has come up with yet and I need to know what you think. So, one of the biggest mysteries in One Pice are the 3 ancient weapons: Poseidon, Pluthon, and Uranus. Poseidon was an ancestor of the Neptun royal family who could communicate with the Sea Kings, and her current incarnatio is Shirahoshi. Pluthon was a physically reproducible warship whoose blueprints were owned by Iceburg and Franky before being destroyed. But Uranus is a much bigger mystery, as we know nothing about it yet.

So I looked up what the names mean and Poseidon is the roman God of the sea, Uranus means sky of heaven, and Pluthon is the roman version of Hades, the greek god of hell. So Poseidon is the sea, Pluthon is the underworld, and Uranus is the sky. The meaning seem to go with the look of tge weapons: a mermaid is a sea creature, a warship is related to war, which many people describe to be hell on Earth, so Uranus must be sky themed, or at least it's theme is a creature that can fly and it's also somewhat godlike.

Now, after Robin develoeped her Demonio Fluer during her fight against Black Maria many people started theorising that her devil fruit was actually not a paramisha, but a mytical Zoan. Like how Luffy's Gum-Gum fruit was actually the Nika fruit. I really like this theory and it would explain why Robin seems to be much stronger than any average paramecia user, ever pre-timeskip. So it dawned on me: what if Robin (or rather the previous owner of her fruit) is Uranus?

Think about it: a theme in One Piece is reincarnation, or ratger the spirits of the previous generation coming back in the newst ones, almost binded by destiny. And Luffy, this generation's Joyboy, was unknowingly tied to Shirahoshi (the reincarnation of Poseidon) Franky and Iceburg (the owners of the blueprints for Pluthon) and Robin (possibly Uranus?) Long before he knew anything about the weapons or his fruit's true identity, almost as if faith was guiding him thowards them.

So I firmly believe that in the Final war against the world Goverment and the Celestial Dragons Shirahoshi will learn to controll her powers, Franky will rebuild Pluthon (also sidenote, some people also theorise that Noah and Pluthon were originally built by the same person and that Noah was like a less refinied/incomplete version of it) and Robin will awaken her devil fruit fully becoming Uranus: a flying sky monster of another world that's connected to the gods, since demons are fallen angels in almost all mythology.

And in the frontlines of Joyboy's army alonside her allies and friends, the Demon Child Queen will finally take revenge, having learned the truth about tye world, her heritage, and keeping her homeland's legacy alive, fully using the potential inside of her that she was made feel worthless and sinfull about.

Do what do you think? Did I got something wrong? Is it a strech? Would it fit with the themes and story or would it ruin Robin's development? I need to get an opinion from a One Pice fan

Oh, damn, okay- I just woke up so this is probably way shorter than what you probably deserve for this text, but, yeah. I consider it a good theory! It makes sense if you think about it that Luffy was tied to them from the start and it's true that Robin is the one to end the mystery and also become greater than she already is, especially since, as you said, her powers seem stronger than usual. However, I always leave theories like these to theorists because I am just awful at these things (I'm way better at analyzing characters when it comes to reading canon stuff). But if you want my honest opinion, I think it could work out if they wrote it well. I don't think it would ruin her character, I'm just thinking about how Oda (if this theory ends up being true) will pull the whole "Well, actually, Robn's fruit isn't what you think! hA!" because he already did that with Luffy and it has to be a huge build-up to be interesting and shocking again.

[palpipeen]

Cuddle Bugs HCs

I'm feeling HELLA TOUCH STARVED and it's cold in my room (bc I'm not wearing pants bc it's summer and it's Texas is this a joke to you Mr. The Sun) and I want to talk about something sweet with the boys I've dabbled with so, HERE YA GO

A bit racy (mentions of grinding, dry humping and hickeys maybe) so MINORS DNI.

Hardcase: My boy, my sweet sweet lad. 'Course he's going to be first bc I tap into him the easiest. (We are kindred spirits.) Idk if it's canon that the clones all get into cuddle piles but might as well be. It's really casual and natural to them. But I think that with a potential S/O, Hardcase might be a bit nervous at first. Mainly because that's his person and his person is hot, so it's bound to get him wound up at some point. He knows how to Think Unsexy Thoughts to keep things from escalating though. But gods once Hardcase is more comfortable with his S/O, he wants to be glued to them ALL the time when they have the time to. 10000% believe Hardcase would give the biggest puppy dog eyes if his S/O isn't getting the hint or is busy with something when he wants to hold them/be held by them. Would get whiny, too. "Aw c'moooon cyar'ika, can't that wait???" "The couch is so comfy babe, come have a lie down with me." He's chatty when he cuddles but he can appreciate just lying in silence with his S/O, too. Just imagine how safe and warm and secure you'd feel in his arms - which I also HC are slightly bulkier than the average CT bc he carries them big guns. Hardcase is also the type to absentmindedly touch and caress his S/O the entire time he's curled up with them. Which can sometimes lead to...things, but he doesn't always mean for it to with his S/O, honest! But how can he resist when they're grinding their butt into his crotch?!

Fox: It's like pulling teeth, herding loth-cats, and getting this man to get a full eight hour's sleep just to get him to slow down long enough to cuddle. Usually Fox can only wind down long enough to cuddle with his S/O after some more...strenuous activities. ( 83c ) But once he does, ohhhh he just melts. I think Fox would actually prefer being the little spoon. Man just wants to be taken care of and turn his Commander Brain off. He's not big on talking while he's cuddling with his S/O, but sometimes he does. Usually when he initiates it after a particularly trying day dealing with senators. He just comes into his S/O's apartment ranting the second his bucket is off, grabs them and drags them to the bedroom, and both fall into the bed together. He's just venting the entire time, too. "Fucking dikut called Thorn Thire about five times, just, excuse me are you closing your eyes when you speak to them?! Their armor's completely different!" "Had the fucking nerve to ask me to help the waitstaff serve hors d'oeuvres. Sorry mate, left my fucking tux in my walk-in closet, oh fucking wait." But sometimes - sometimes there are days when he comes to his S/O needing to be held because it's the only thing that helps him sleep. For a while at least. There have been many times the two of you wake up with Fox wired, hard and needy, having shuffled around in his sleep so he's between your legs and shamelessly rutting against his S/O. Lucky for him they love being woken up this way.

Wolffe: Ooooh, Wolffie. The first few times he tries this with a partner it is the most awkward five minutes of his life. But then his S/O comes along. And it's still awkward - at first anyway. Look, it's not that he doesn't want to hold his S/O. (Wolffe is firmly in the big spoon camp about 90% of the time.) It's just that there are hundreds of things he should probably be doing. At least, these are his excuses at first. Eventually he does warm up to the idea, acting like his S/O is being just sooooo needy. But in reality, Wolffe appreciates it. The quiet, the closeness, the simple intimacy of it. Moments like these makes him feel like the war can't touch him. It's honestly a balm for the wounds he tries to keep hidden behind a dozen walls of stoicism, sarcasm, and scowls. More than once Wolffe hasn't let his S/O get up until he's damn good and ready to let them up, grumbling and grousing about it. But even more than that, cuddling up to Wolffe has led to more. A lot more. Lying all tangled up with his S/O just does things for Wolffe. It's something about the intertwined limbs, listening to each other breathe, the solid presence of his S/O all around him. As mentioned before, Wolffe prefers being big spoon, which will usually lead to him peppering soft kisses against his partner's neck and shoulders. But he waits until he feels the first shiver until he pushes a bit more, little kitten licks against their skin, ghosting his breath against all the spots he knows makes them squirm. Of course this leads to more, his teeth scraping skin, and then sinking into it as he rubs up against them. If his S/O tries to tease him about it, he teases right back. "You're the one who got it in your head that this would be all innocent." "Oh, you really thought you wouldn't tempt me when we're like this?" And his favorite to whisper in his S/O's ear because he knows it'll get them all worked up is, "Meshla, I'm just finishing what you started."

Open to more if anyone has any suggestions/requests~

[cacoetheswriting]

a mutually assured attachment: part two

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 2.5k summary: trust and other dangerous feelings.

warnings: set before tfatws, therapy positive, emotional hurt / comfort, mutual pinning, mild swearing, use of pet names (sweets, darlin') mentions of food and alcohol consumption, overall just a lovely little slow burn

a/n: so turns out i posted part one six freaking months ago and this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for five... seriously cannot believe i am finally getting this out, i really hope you enjoy and as always tell me what you think!

SERIES MASTERLIST

To say you turned Bucky’s life upside down from the moment you moved in across the hall would be a vast understatement.

Not only was the brunette super soldier completely blindsided by your friendliness, generosity, and wittiness, but also by how quickly he opened himself up to you (with zero effort on your part really, simply thanks to your honest and welcoming spirit).

The two of you spent virtually every free minute together.

From morning coffee together before you rushed off to work, to walks around the neighbourhood on a Saturday, and dinner “dates” every other evening. You would either cook something or Bucky would order takeout, and the word exchange would flow naturally for hours on end.

You would tell him all about your day, mainly complaining about your quote on quote shitty boss, or you’d share with him random memories from your childhood and teenage years, some of which was seriously embarrassing stuff. Bucky would openly counter with anecdotes from his own life pre the war, and even though you’d complain none of his stories were as shaming as yours, it felt good to just get to know him a little.

An unspoken agreement quickly formed: anything else from his long life was not to be mentioned.

Lost in conversation and with mouths full of food, the two of you would divert to the couch. And usually at this point in the evening you’d convince Bucky to watch something with you.

That’s when you introduced him to Shelly, Bobby and Laura — amongst others — and he came to learn they weren’t your friends (as he initially thought). ‘Twin Peaks’ was confusing, and although you guaranteed a lot of people thought so, Bucky still felt bad for not liking something you so clearly enjoyed.

Hence why the following evening he gifted you with a small notebook in your favourite colour; “It’s so you can note everything you think we should watch together.” Your heart swelled. And when he saw the beam spreading across your features, so did his.

One Sunday afternoon, you taught him your famous apple pie recipe.

At least you tried your best.

Bucky may be a trained killer but even professionals with an enhanced attention to detail make mistakes. He misread the labels and instead of 2/3 cups of sugar, he added salt. (And it definitely had nothing to do with how he got distracted by the smudge of flour on the tip of your nose, and how adorable it made you look). By the time he realised his error, the pie was already in the oven.

You of course reassured him it was okay.

“It happens to the best of us, Buck. My mom once put salt in my tea and I only realised after I took a sip,” you tittered with a light shrug of the shoulder and a sweet smile.

Bucky returned the expression. He watched you move about your kitchen, cleaning the mess you both made, and found himself hoping the feeling forming at the pit of his stomach when he looked at you would never go away.

It was silly to feel this strongly about you. After all, he still didn’t know your name.

Yes, Bucky could admit it was odd spending this much time with someone and not knowing such an intimate detail of who they really were. But with you it didn’t feel so weird. He firmly stood by what he told you around the time he first met you: “You can tell me your name when you’re ready to do so.”.

Not like it mattered anyway, it was just a name. He’s been called by many over the years, some considerably better than others, and in the end it was a nickname he liked most.

He obviously wondered every night what it was. Oddly enough the guessing game helped him fall asleep by keeping his mind occupied and warding away any nightmares, because all he thought of as his eyes shut was you.

But Bucky wouldn’t have to ponder much longer.

You had a tough day — tough week actually — and he wanted to distract you somehow. Cheer you up in a memorable way. And having previously expressed interest in his mode of transport, Bucky knew taking you out on a trip on his motorcycle would be a great way to help you momentarily forget any troubles.

He bought you a helmet. You squealed with excitement as he gently placed it on your head. The enthusiasm so clearly visible on your features caused him to smile while  his fingers brushing your chin as he secured the strap.

But when he stepped away to hop on the motorcycle, the happy expression on your face faded. Nerves kicked in.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, settling himself down on the seat.

“I don’t know about this, neighbour.”

He chuckled, “Aren’t you the one who’s been goin’ on about how you’d like to go on a motorcycle ride with me?”

“Well… yeah.” A sigh escaped your lips, “But now that I have this helmet on my head and you’re sitting, waiting for me to get on I just...”

The grin plastered on Bucky’s face caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, in an attempt to stop yourself from rambling on further.

“Come on,” he said and extended an arm in your direction, “I promise you’re safe with me, darlin’.”

With a slow nod of the head, you took his hand and maneuvered yourself onto the motorbike.

Bucky waited until you were settled before dropping your hand. And although you instantly wrapped your arms securely around his waist, he still found himself missing the feeling of your soft skin against his.

“Ready?” Bucky asked.

And it was then he finally learned your name. He didn’t think he heard you at first when it escaped your lips ever so faintly.

“y/n…” you mumbled into his ear in response to his question, “uhm- my name is y/n y/l/n.”

He looked back at you, almost in disbelief. He couldn’t really believe you told him. And here — now — of all places. And holy hell… y/n, even more beautiful than what he imagined.

“y/n,” Bucky tested the name on his tongue before the corners of his lips twirled upwards, “It sure suits you, darlin’.”

You repricoated the expression, “You think so?”

He nodded before his brows creased together, confused. “But I gotta know somethin’—”

“Well, I figured since we might die on this bike today, you might as well know who you’re dying with,” you replied, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.

Bucky smacked his lips together, containing a smile.

“We are not going to die,” he stated confidently before turning his attention to the road ahead and starting the machine.

You wanted to protest, tease him a little with a witty comment, but instead you only held onto him tighter, carefully resting your chin on his shoulder.

~~~

“She told me her name.”

Dr. Raynor raised a brow, “You don’t seem pleased? I thought you wanted to know what it was.”

He did, more than anything. He was delighted when you finally revealed what it was, replaying it in his mind that whole afternoon. However when he returned home that evening, after saying goodnight to you and watching you disappear into your apartment, an uneasy feeling rushed through him.

“It’s complicated.”

“How so?

“Because it means she trusts me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Yes.

Bucky sighed, “Nothin’ good ever comes from people trusting me, doc.”

“I see…” Dr. Raynor scribbled something on the notepad in her lap and after a minute of silence focused again on the brunette man sitting across from her, “Would you like to know what I think?”

He didn’t say anything. Dr. Raynor exhaled.

“I think your neighbour telling you her name freaked you out not because she’s grown comfortable enough around you to share this part of herself with you, but because in the weeks you have spent hanging out together you also began to trust her. And that is what scares you.”

Dr. Raynor was right of course and Bucky hated it when she was right.

Yes, he’s grown to trust you. Honestly, it was almost impossible not to. Everything about you was so welcoming and honest, trusting you only felt natural.

“Do you think she is the type to break your trust?” Dr. Raynor enquired.

“No,” he responded instantly and without hesitation, causing the lady sitting across from him to smile before saying, “Then it’s important you don’t let your past hurt dictate your present relationships.”

“But how can I not, doc?” Bucky asked, because it honestly seemed like an impossible task.

~~~

Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky entered the nearby bar you two decided to meet at for a change. He scanned the crowded room, quickly spotting you in the far corner, lost in your own thoughts. The second you noticed his approach, you waved and a wide grin graced your features.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him, “I was starting to think you forgot all about me.”

The brunette sergeant smiled while sitting down across from you. He hailed a server down and ordered two beers before turning his attention to you, “Sorry, I got held up at the, uhm—”

“You’re here now,” you cut in, noticing the apprehensive look on his face. Bucky bobbed his head in response.

A waiter rocked up to the table with the ordered beers. They asked if you needed anything else, to which Bucky shook his head and thanked them before once again focusing on you.

“How was your day?”

“It’s Friday, that always makes things better,” you answered, taking a sip of the liquid.

“If you hate your job so much, why don’t you resign?” Bucky queried, instantly picking up on the undertone in your reply.

“Trust me neighbour, I think about quitting every damn day but my bills won’t pay themselves and the job market sucks ass right now. It would be months before I found something else and I just can’t afford that kind of time,” you elaborated.

“Plus, even if I were to leave, I wouldn’t even know what else I could do,” you added and took another sip.

“A smart lady like you, I’m sure there’s somethin’,” Bucky encouraged, “What was your dream job when you were little?”

You chuckled. “I think my chances of doing that are quite slim, neighbour.”

Bucky raised an intrigued brow and inclined forward, arms resting on the table. He motioned for you to continue and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“If we ever have a falling out, I hope you never repeat my embarrassing stories to anyone.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Bucky tittered and you shot him an annoyed glance before taking another sip of the liquid courage.

“I wanted to be an astronaut,” you finally admitted, covering your eyes with your hand, not wanting to witness Bucky’s reaction to your silly childhood dream.

Bucky pressed his tongue to his top lip, fighting back a smirk. An image of little you in a make-shit helmet flashed before his eyes. He could technically make a part of your dream come true, but that would involve talking to people he no longer wanted anything to do with.

He reached to move your hand away from your face and for a split second the two of you sat in silence, his fingers gently caressing yours.

The tender moment was interrupted by the server returning to ask whether you wanted another round.

You hastily withdrew your hands from Bucky’s grasp, placing them on your lap, while the brunette man ran his fingers through his hair before turning to decline the waiter. The whole ordeal lasted about a minute and once you were alone again, Bucky swallowed his breath and proceeded to veer the conversation away from the awkwardness that was suddenly closing in around you.

“An astronaut, huh?”

The chaffing tone detectable in his voice caused you to roll your eyes yet again before replying, “You can’t honestly tell me you grew up wanting to join the army.”

“I did.”

“Bullshit,” you exclaimed, “I call bullshit.”

He laughed, “Fine, but you gotta promise not to tell a living soul. The only other person that knows this about me is Steve.”

“Cross my heart,” you gesticulated.

“I wanted to be a cowboy.”

You pressed your fingers to your lips, hiding — or rather failing to hide — a satisfied smile.

He returned the expression and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

“All I’m going to say is, you should be very glad we’re going to be in each other's lives for the foreseeable future, because that is some pretty heavy ammunition you just gave me,” you teased him.

Bucky smirked. “Glad to hear I haven’t scared you off yet, darlin’.”

You shrugged lightly. “I guess I am strangely attached to you, Bucky Barnes,” you expressed.

The brunette man stiffened, all of the anxieties he’s been pushing down this evening were suddenly floating back up. His metal hand gripped the empty beer bottle a little too tight and a lump grew at the back of his throat as your words rang in his ears.

Okay, he may feel the same. And okay, he was attached to you too, he has been for some time now (in more ways than one). A mutual attachment however... Well, a mutual attachment is precisely why he didn’t want to get involved with you in the first place.

“I scared you a little, didn’t I? I freaked you out with the whole attached thing, right?”

Shifting into damage control mode, you inched forward and without waiting for a response, you continued: “I am so sorry, James. It uh, it's just an expression, p-please don’t read too much into it.”

The compassionate look on your face caused his heart to skip a beat. Although there was something else you just did that had an even greater effect on him.

“You called me James.”

Your brows creased together as you asked, “What?”

“You called me James,” he repeated and added, “you never call me by my first name.”

“Yes I do,” you protested, scrunching your nose.

“Nope,” Bucky countered with an assertive smirk, “It’s always either neighbour or old man. Sometimes Bucky or Buck, but never James.”

“Really?” you questioned in disbelief, “Never?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

You didn’t know what to say. It shouldn’t be this big a deal. James was his name afterall, so how come you’ve never used it? He hardly called you by yours, however with good reason since he only found out what it was the other day. Fuck. Why did this make you feel all sorts of flustered?

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked back at him. The second his blue gaze caught yours, your breathing became softer.

“Don’t worry, y/n.” he began and the brazen smirk on his face slowly faded into a more tender expression, “I eh, I am strangely attached to you too.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

The longer you looked into his eyes the more your body squirmed, your muscles relaxing and further sinking you into the chair. There was something about that soft gaze of his you knew you’d never find in anyone else.

‘Attached’ was becoming a severe understatement.

“Good, because like I said, we’re going to be a part of each other’s lives for a long time, James.”

main masterlist

[ericspinkhair]

dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie​ and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

[padfootastic]

I like that you invision James as handsome beefcake majority of Hogwarts (and most definitely Sirius) had as a first crush.

But let's take it step further....James survives and raised Harry and poor Progslet had to deal with his dad being the DILF of his school year's (Lucius Malfoy wishes) and his classmates asking if his Auror dad is stopping by since Harry caused trouble again that year.

hehehe it’s a very indulgent headcanon, i have to admit. ash super believes in this but james’ was more of an approachable hottie whereas sirius was out of everyone’s leagues (and they all knew it) so it meant that a lot of people basically ended up crushing on james at some point in their lives. just like a casual ‘damn look at hin’ sort of a thing ykno? and he was so happy and charming and helpful that it just made the whole thing worse (or better?)

no ok but dilf james is such a fucking mood (have u seen that one art of dilf marauders? 👀) and i firmly believe that harry would be sick and tired of people lusting after his parents (either in a jily or prongsfoot or particularly, jilypad universe) like

‘oh yeah dad’s coming to pick me up’

‘oh i wouldnt mind being picked up by james potter’ *lecherous grin’ ykno?

x

Lucius Malfoy flicked a silk covered finger over his immaculate robes, adjusting the clasp minutely before stepping through the entrance. He stopped, briefly, as memories of being a carefree schoolboy assaulted his senses—the various smells of dinner laid out in the Great Hall, the warmth of the stone corridors that stayed so throughout the year, the overwhelming port sites moving around and talking. Lucius wasn’t one to reminisce, but it was hard not to in Hogwarts.

Once his momentary weakness had passed, he started a brisk pace towards his destination—the Dungeons. As he walked amongst the crowd of rowdy children—his Draco would never, he thought with an invisible shudder , looking at someone levitating a piece of gum up another’s nasal cavity—he began to note a sudden increase in whispers and glances. A quick glances around only proved his suspicion- it was him they were looking at. He suppressed a smirk at the look of awe and, dare he say it, appreciation lining many faces.

Lucius Malfoy was a vain man, he admitted it freely. He took great care of his looks and his body and while it wasn’t to impress school kids, it definitely didn’t hurt that such a picky group of brats liked it. He felt his chest puff up a little as he almost made it to the staircase. Maybe he’d invite Severus over for a drink tonight. He usually didn’t bother with the man beyond a professional relationship but the past few minutes had left him in good enough spirits to put up with him.

Suddenly, a boy stepped forward, mouth opening on a greeting. Dealing with these children was another thing Lucius didn’t like, but well, it’s the least he could do, right? He’s sure Draco would’ve mentioned him in a good light, and it’s no wonder they’re so impressed by him. After all, being Lucius Malfoy meant a great deal in the Wizarding World. Lucius had just started saying ‘He-’ when he was rudely interrupted by an unfortunately familiar voice.

“Cedric!” Lucius turned around and couldn’t help the sneer that lifted his lips at the sight of James Potter in all his uncouth glory. He was dressed in his Auror robes which should’ve made him look distinguished but the wrinkles, ill fitting muggle trousers, hideous boots and the visible holster only served to make him resemble a wind dried Hippogriff. “It’s been a long time, mate, how’ve you been?”

“All good, Mr. Potter. Do you—That is—Are you here long?” In front of Lucius’ incredulous eyes, the boy…Amos’ son?…ducked his head shyly as a red flush creeped up his neck. Something fell in place as Lucius noted the reaction, along with Potter’s friendly demeanour and affectionate smile. Another not-very-subtle glance around showed that all the eyes that had been on him so far had instantly snapped to the pair standing a few feet away. More than a few miscreants had their gazes aimed significantly lower than appropriate and this time, Lucius couldn’t help the low growl that escaped him at the realisation.

“Potter!”

“Oh hey, Lucy, didn’t see you there.” James Potter’s infernal grin looked personally designed to annoy him further and Lucius didn’t deign to respond—only stalked off with a pout sneer on his face.

[mythiccheroacademia]

—lunch box

A/N: just another cute idea i had because i’m obsessed with barbarian/dragon king!bakugo and fantasy shit in general. some context: you and bakugo are betrothed—although, sometimes you wish you weren’t bc he can be a real asshole. luckily for you, he’s willing to work on it bc he likes loves you just that much. a litte angst (it wouldn’t be a mtha story without it) but it ends in fluff <3

Warnings: cursing

Your friends looked at their food with heart eyes and dug into the neatly wrapped box with fever.

“Ahh! Thank you for making this, Y/N!” one of them exclaimed. The other could only nod in agreement, too into your cooking to speak.

You smiled and waved them off. “It was nothing. Consider it a thank you for letting me copy the homework last night,” you chuckled.

“Did you cook one for Prince Bakugo? I’d imagine he’d love it! If there’s anyone’s cooking he loves more than his own, it’s yours!”

At the mention of his name, your expression fell. You looked down at the case of food you had prepared for him as an apology.

Four days ago, you two were hanging around his residence. You managed to get him to dance around with you. Well, it more like you were dancing and he was doing his best not to combust in embarrassment. Katsuki warned you that you shouldn’t be too reckless otherwise you’d break something.

Of course, you paid him no mind, too enthralled with your fun to notice your proximity to a nearby statue—one of the Bakugo family’s treasures.

One thing led to another, and you knocked it over, shattering it before either of you could even react. Your rich skin lost its glow and your boyfriend cursed something nasty.

Least to say, his parents were not happy. But instead of being rightfully scolded, Bakugo had taken the blame for it.

They found him attempting to clean it up and assumed it was his fault. You wanted to correct them, but he threw you a nasty glare, sealing your mouth shut. He was now under punishment until they deemed fit and from then on, he hadn't spoken a friendly word to you.

A little sigh escaped your lips. Your two friends looked at each other before offering you encouraging smiles.

“Hey,” one spoke, placing a hand on your knee. You met her gaze. “You should go give it to him. He’d love it.”

There was a moment of silence before you decided to act. Taking the spur of confidence, you stood up and briskly made your way to the other classroom. Just before you entered, you heard his voice and felt your heart waver with anxiousness.

However, now wasn’t the time to let doubt consume you. Things wouldn’t get better until something was done.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, before opening the door and walking in. Your eyes scanned the room and found the young dragon prince amongst his group of friends.

Jaw set, you walked over to them, hands firmly around the packaged food.

Kirishima saw you first and gave you a friendly wave.

“Hey Princess L/N!”

“Hi boys! How’re ya doing?” you politely asked, putting on your best smile.

They gave you an upbeat answer that lifted your spirits.

Despite that, you hadn't heard a response from Bakugo. In fact, he hadn't even looked at you—but you wouldn’t be disheartened. You fueled herself with faux confidence and held out the dish to your betrothed.

“I-I made you something small yesterday, as an apology,” you stuttered.

Katsuki finally looked up, indifference in his stare. Ruby eyes flickered down to the box filled with rice, chicken, vegetables, and a small pastry on the side. His favorite kind. For a moment, he seemed like considered your offer, but you suffered the low blow of humiliation when he turned away to look through the window.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. Should’ve given it to me earlier.”

Something in your stomach fell. Crushing rejection blossomed up your throat with each passing second. His words were cold, harsh, and unforgiving. It might’ve been stupid, overdramatic even, but it hurt.

Heartbroken wasn’t even the word.

Your nose burned, eyes blurring before you could stop it. Your chest tightened with embarrassment. Luckily, you mustered enough strength to hold in whatever was threatening to crumble you.

“Oh,” you dumbly responded.

“I’ll take it!” Kaminari excitedly said.

“No, I will! I’m still starving!” Kirishima chided.

You placed the box down, struggling to keep up your act.

“Split it between the both of you. I hope it’s good!” You internally winced over how high your voice had become. “I’m gonna to get going now. I’ll see you guys after school, yeah?”

And before anything else was said, you bolted straight out of the room. You hadn’t bothered to look at Katsuki. Knowing him, he probably hadn't noticed the strain in your voice.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears flooded. You held your hands against your mouth, desperate to muffle your cries. You quickly took you into the nearest bathroom and you prayed no one had seen you lest there be questions. If you went to your friends, it’d cause a commotion. Your parents would eventually find out and you didn’t want any more problems.

So, you cried your eyes raw and eventually willed yourself to stop when it was time to return to class.

…

The week had gone by without another interaction. The weekend brought you some relief since you wouldn’t be forced to see Katsuki’s face for the time being. Or so you thought.

All you wanted to do was run some errands for your parents and then go back home and continue sulking. Yet the universe would not let you rest.

The moment you caught Bakugo’s eyes, you pivoted on your heel and booked it the other way. You assumed his anger with you would force him to keep his distance.

But you were thoroughly surprised to find he was following after you.

“Y/N,” he called.

Irritation and hurt filled your chest. You only walked faster, clutching the purse against her chest.

“Y/N, stop,” he demanded to which you promptly ignored.

This went on for a good thirty seconds until Bakugo decided he had enough. Without much noise, he ran up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder.

You weren’t having it.

You harshly shrugged off his hand. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, keeping your eyes forward.

“I need to talk to you,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you. So maybe some other time.”

Truthfully, the crowned prince found himself shocked at your coldness. Despite your innate boldness, he wasn’t used to such an icy tone. Especially directed at him.

His father warned him to never attack in these situations, but Bakugo let his temper get the best of him. His first reaction was to frown and deal back harsher words.

“What’s your fucking problem, dumbass? When I say stop, stop!”

A spike of anger flooded your veins. You whirled around on your heel and glared at him with frosty eyes. You felt compelled to drop your papers and slap him, but instead, you settled for a finger in his face.

“First of all, I’m not some dog you can just order around, you jerk! And just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean I’m some girl you can treat like dirt whenever you feel like it! Until you apologize, leave me alone because my only problem right now is you. Bye.”

And just as quickly as you came, you turned to leave.

Now Bakugo was actually stunned. Forget, cold, this was a side of you he hadn't ever experienced. Admittedly, he hadn’t been spoken to like that from anyone besides his mother—and she only got away with it because she was not only the queen…but he was his mom.

Katsuki honestly didn’t know how to handle it. It was only then that he concentrated back on his father’s advice. Whenever his mother was upset with his dad, his father would fight back, but never with emotional anger. Always with humbleness and an understanding tongue.

It usually did the trick considering his mother could never stay upset with him for more than a night. It always struck the teen with hidden awe. Sometimes, Katsuki thought his dad was an angel.

Bakugo was no angel, but he hoped it’d have the same affect on you.

The blonde teen softened his face and walked up behind you. He stopped you, wrapping his arms around your waist to lie his forehead against the decorated braids the fell down your back.

“Damn it. I’m sorry okay?” he lowly said, face burning from such a public display of affection. “Just hear me out.”

You didn’t speak and he clenched his jaw.

“Please.”

You inwardly cursed your rapidly beating heart. If it weren’t for how stupidly nice being in his arms was (he was definitely working out more), and the fact that you found him kinda cute begging for your permission, maybe you wouldn’t have caved in so easily.

For now, you’d blame it on the fact that you two were destined to wed. It was better to start dealing with fights now so, hopefully, the future held less of them.

You heaved a sigh, unwillingly ignoring your body’s urge to curl in his arms. Instead, you pulled away and turned to face him. You peered into unsure crimson eyes with as much harshness you could conjure.

“Fine. Speak,” you permitted.

There was a small pause as he gathered his thoughts. When he opened his mouth, you instantly regretted it.

“I’m still mad at you for being dumb and breaking one of family’s treasures. And I’m still fucking pissed that my old hag is on my ass about it,” he started and noticed how your eyes narrowed in contempt.

You were about to turn away, thinking this was a waste of time. However, Bakugo took a hold of your wrist before you could leave.

“Leave me alone! If you didn’t want to get in trouble, you should’ve just let me take the blame. I can't believe I thought you’d apologize—“

“Let me finish, princess.”

It was your title, yet you felt your stomach flip when it came from his lips. You refused to let it influence you…but you’d give him another chance.

Bakugo stepped closer to you. “I’m upset, but I took the punishment because I wanted to. You didn’t mean to break it. Accidents happen, I understand that.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then, you softened your gaze a bit, eyes still lit with inquiry. “Why? Why would you do that if it meant getting in trouble? I could’ve taken the blame just fine.”

“Y/N, you freak the fuck out whenever you don’t get a perfect score on an exam. You try not to mess up and when you do, it’s like the world is ending,” he explained with a teasing smirk. You ungracefully snorted. He had a point. “When you broke the vase, I could hear your heart drop. You were two seconds away from crying. And when I saw how scared you looked I just—I don’t know.”

The look on your face was something between shock, surprise, and wonder. You blinked, thick lips parting slightly in awe.

“Katsuki…” you breathed to which the boy heavily blushed. Realizing how sappy he sounded, his mind screamed at him to cut it out.

Bakugo looked down and noticed he was still holding your wrist. He quickly let go and instinctively rubbed the nape of his neck.

“D-don’t be dramatic. I just didn’t wanna see you moping around or some shit. My father said that it wasn’t that important anyway…the vase I mean,” he mumbled.

Sure it wasn’t, you thought. What were you gonna do with this boy?

You supposed an apology was a good start.

“That was very nice and admirable of you Katsuki. Thank you,” you eventually said. “I’m still really sorry about the vase, and for being mean to you just now.”

He shook his head. “I know, but I’m the one that should be apologizing. I ain’t hafta treat you the way I did. I was being an ass for not accepting the food you made for me earlier.”

“Yeah you were, ya bastard.”

He chuckled at that. “The two idiots wouldn’t stop raving over how good it was.”

“Well, I had the best teacher in the kingdom,” you grinned.

“And I had an even better student,” he winked.

Your smile widened. Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

You couldn’t help yourself when you heartily embraced him, enjoying how his arms slowly slithered around the small of your back. Your eyes met and you kissed him on the lips, leaving him with a little gasp. You pulled away and giggled under your breath.

“You know, you're a sweet guy underneath all that false bravado.”

“False brav—what the hell are you going on about!?”

Ignoring his explosive behavior, you readjusted the straps on your shoulder before turning on your heel.

“Don’t bring anything for lunch on Monday, okay? I’ll see you later, blondie.”

Despite his little tantrum, Bakugo still watched you disappear into the store with a gentle expression. You gave him more headaches than he cared for, but you were worth it. Besides, he was sure you could say the same for him.

Bakugo turned to leave and passed his fingertips over where your lips touched his own.

He’d never admit to the giddiness in his chest. He’d take that shit to the grave.

[tenthgrove]

The Hulder's Husband

Sorbet x Gelato, no reader (part 1/2)

Author's Note: I have tried to include any vital information about the two mythological creatures in this story, the nøkken and the hulder, in the fic itself. However for better immersion I'd recommend reading these short articles I found here and here, since I haven't seen many fanfics that use them. Many thanks to @dicksoutformtl, who gave me the original idea to create an AU based on these creatures.

Few among the nøkken have it as easy as Sorbet does. He was wise to make this lake his home, never mind what the hulderfolk who lived here before had told him. They were right for a while- he barely saw human prey for a decade, few braving the wilderness to tread this deep into the forest. But over time, more came. And now Sorbet has drowned hundreds.

‘Must be a great vicious beast!’ the humans said, or at least that’s what Sorbet always hears before he lures them into the water. Humans are foolish creatures, they hear about the people who go missing here and nobody can convince them they aren’t the sole hero who can kill whatever animal is responsible. Sometimes, Sorbet lets them be, even guides them to a bear or wolf so they can go home a victor, and spur on others to believe there really are great beasts in this forest who are causing all those deaths.

The clever way in which he satiates his natural instinct brings the nøkken great pride. Yet, it makes the presence of the man at the shore all the more inexplicable.

This man is young. Sorbet committed his pretty face firmly to memory before he dived below the surface to creep towards him. His hair is blonde, shining spectacularly in the dim moonlight. It is strange he would have kept it so clean over the two days’ journey from the nearest human village. All of him is too clean in fact, and his scanty clothing should surely have brought about his death by now in the bitter winter cold. He is no hunter, far too fresh-faced and unscarred for such a profession, and carries no tools. If he were not an unkillable spirit himself, Sorbet the great seducer would suspect he was walking into a trap.

Still, perhaps the man is part of a larger hunting party. An amateur brought by his brother or father perhaps? Yes, they probably have a tent just out of sight. As Sorbet creeps towards him on the lakebed, he hasn’t yet decided if he will kill him. There is usually no question about whether he will kill a human he sees, his natural instinct being what it is, but nøkken are not mindless like some other forms of spirit. For one, they are capable of forming attraction. Before he makes his decision, Sorbet wants to see him up close. Then he will decide.

It is a dark night and Sorbet is in his monstrous true form. Horrendous as it is, it is perfect for the task of creeping towards prey. The twigs and rotten leaves make for good cover as he crawls below the water. When he stops, he is mere metres from the shoreline, so close that if he went any further he would be forced to emerge. Satisfied that this will do, he peers up at the surface of the water, and true enough the human is looking back.

The human cannot see him, he is sure. He isn’t screaming at least. He murmurs a tune as he combs his hair with his fingers, clearly too caught up in his own reflection to notice Sorbet underneath it. Ahh- what a beautiful voice. Sorbet readies his violin to join the song. He will not kill him- but that doesn’t mean he won’t be using his enchanting musical powers anyway. Yes, Sorbet is very grateful for his natural gifts tonight.

The human steps backwards out of view, but not before something falls out of his clothing. Something profoundly inhuman. Astonish him as it might, Sorbet cannot mistake the sight of the cow’s tail that flicks the water’s surface as the beautiful man departs. He wonders if he should have known- surely no human could ever be that beautiful. But then again, Sorbet had never seen a male hulder before. He didn’t know they even existed.

Clearly, this stranger must be something very rare indeed. Clearly, Sorbet will have to go beyond his usual enchantments to have him.

Sorbet rears his head above the water to watch the hulder leave. He is gentle with his movements so as not to make a sound in the water. Where the thick undergrowth begins, he can just make out a man’s silhouette heading away from the little light of the clearing above the lake. Sorbet averts his eyes quickly. He supposes it is probably rude to look at a hulder’s hollowed back on purpose. That won’t make for a sweet first meeting for the hulder to remember later in their relationship.

And so, the nøkken remains until morning. He sits motionless in the lake, not even moving to shake the robin that briefly comes to rest on his shoulder. His mind thinks only of the hulder. Once it is light enough to see into the forest, he stands, and shakes away his monstrous form. He looks down at his reflection in the water.

Usually when he shape-shifts for seduction, the nøkken takes the form of an exceedingly beautiful man. Right now his hair is the colour of sooty ash, and his face shows similar, emerging signs of age. He is far from ugly, but not what he would call objectively beautiful. He wonders why that is. It is part of the nøkken’s gift to always know the perfect form to lure in any prey, so that must be the explanation. This, imperfect human, is simply the hulder’s taste. He does not know why that thought makes him smile down at his reflection. Nodding to himself, he wades to the water’s edge.

It is like the weather had anticipated his task and blessed it, because yesterday it rained heavily then the night was icy cold. The result is that the hulder’s footprints have frozen perfectly in the mud, a simple trail to track into the forest.

It takes him a good couple of hours to follow the trail to its end, the hulder winding between the tree groves like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Sorbet wonders what brought him to this forest. Apart from the small band of local skogsrå, the hulders’ fox-tailed sisters from the east, Sorbet has not seen any of their kind in a long time. Like nøkken, they usually like to have humans nearby to lure in.

Wherever he finds a pond or stream he stops to ponder, building his plan on how to approach the blond beauty. He is fully aware he is attempting to seduce a creature that solely exists to trick human men into marriage; any romantic reception at first sight can hardly be relied upon as the hulder’s genuine heart. He eventually settles on not having a plan.

At long last, Sorbet finds the hulder playing with crocuses in a patch of tall grass. The young man looks up, the slightest smile flickering on one side of his face before he hides it. Sorbet begins to speak.

“Hello, do you know this-”

“YOU’VE GOT TO HELP ME!” the hulder shrieks, crying hysterically as he throws himself on Sorbet and wraps his arms around him tight. “IT’S AWFUL, JUST AWFUL! MY WHOLE FAMILY-” his voice trails off into theatrical weeping as he bobs his head in a so-so imitation of human despair. Sorbet cannot help but grin a little while the hulder isn’t looking. Is this the script he uses on every human man he meets? With acting skills like this, it’s no wonder he hasn’t succeeded in finding a husband yet.

“Now now, hush dear boy,” Sorbet answers, his own best imitation of human comfort. On instinct he almost lets his own arm sink around the hulder’s back to pat it reassuringly, but the man catches it gently, returning it to his chest. The hulder looks at him with big eyes and a small smile, no longer crying. He rubs the nøkken’s hand held between them.

“My, you’re so kind to me, sir.”

There’s no way to argue otherwise. This hulder has made Sorbet his mark. It is the ultimate goal of a hulder’s existence to marry a human man, and if they can do so without him ever seeing their back, they will turn into a human themselves. Sorbet doesn’t understand why the hulders would ever want to be human, but he supposes it’s the same kind of instinct that makes him want to drown people. Anyway, regardless of whether they make it to marriage or not, hulders eventually do away with their human lovers. They’re just means to an end to the hulder. Of course, Sorbet doesn’t need to fear being killed as even beings of magic can’t harm a water spirit, but that doesn’t change the fact this hulder’s affections are undoubtedly false. Perhaps that should hurt Sorbet more, but he really doesn’t care. He is sure that time can mellow this creature’s heart.

“My name is Gelato sir,” the hulder says sweetly.

“Sorbet,” the nøkken replies smiling. He touches his hand to Gelato’s cheek, and Gelato leans against it lovingly. He takes Sorbet’s hand and kisses it. Sorbet feels himself shiver.

“I have some money for you, Gelato,” Sorbet announces. “I can help you build a shelter for tonight, and tomorrow we can make our way towards the village on the end of the forest and you will be safe there.”

“So, so kind,” Gelato says illustriously. Sorbet reaches into his pocket and takes out a few human coins. Gelato accepts the rusty tokens with a grateful smile, closing his fist around them. If he knew anything about the humans he is attempting to infiltrate, he would know this money is a century old and entirely worthless. Clearly, Gelato does not know that.

“I’m so weak from exhaustion,” the hulder pouts. “Could you please carry me?” he begs. Sorbet is glad to comply. As he rests Gelato’s head over his shoulder, he can almost feel how strongly the hulder is smiling. ‘Good,’ Sorbet thinks. ‘Let him be happy. It pleases me.’

Sorbet takes his time in locating the nearby cave, wanting Gelato to believe he merely found it on skill alone and not prior knowledge of the area. There is no need for showmanship when convincing a desperate hulder to marry you, but eventually Sorbet wants to earn his heart as well as his hand, and there’s nothing lost by starting on that endeavour now. Once they are inside Sorbet lends Gelato his coat, and builds a fire to warm him. A nøkken, spirit of the water, building a fire! What spell has befallen him to transgress his nature for this boy? Yet even as the uncomfortable sensation of being dry spreads across his skin for the first time in decades, Sorbet is smiling. He is listening to Gelato sing.

They sleep holding each other at night. Gelato sleeps, rather. While hardly devoid of magic hulders are still creatures of nature and subject to hunger and tiredness and so on, while nøkken need nothing but water to please their souls. But Sorbet does not begrudge the hours of silence, watching the fire burn out as he is hugged by Gelato tightly from behind, delighting in every contented noise that escapes him as he slumbers.

Come morning, Gelato has forgotten all about his supposed weakened state and is hurrying Sorbet to take him to the village. He’s even bold enough to start asking whether this village has a church in it. Sorbet chuckles and says they can explore it when they get there.

It is a little warmer today. Although they are now far enough from the lake that the terrain is unfamiliar, the paths of the hunters are easy to follow, and Sorbet knows they will reach the village in time.

Gelato lets slip his affinity to the forest a little too strongly. Around midday Sorbet points out a fruit tree that they should eat from, and Gelato laughs and says it’s clearly poisonous. He finds them some different fruit soon after. Sorbet has never really formed a connection with the land around his lake, and he supposes having a husband so deeply knowledgeable about it will be a fresh new perspective. Sorbet has never really cared about fresh perspectives before.

“Sorbet look!” Gelato calls excitedly, pointing to a holly plant across the path from them. “You know what that means!”

“Afraid not dearest,” Sorbet replies.

“It means we have to kiss under the mistletoe!”

Sorbet lets his shock get the better of him and he goes quiet. He’s hardly opposed to kissing Gelato but this early he simply didn’t expect it. It’s a pleasant sense of shock, like finding gold under the bushes

Or at least how humans must feel finding gold under the bushes.

“Just kidding silly!” Gelato laughs playfully, pushing Sorbet over and skipping off backwards with a maniacal laugh. It would seem he stalled too long. Oh well, next time he’ll be quicker. Sorbet gets back up without protest and follows Gelato, continuing their journey as before.

“Sorbet-” Gelato complains, later in the afternoon. “Do we have to sleep in a cave again tonight?”

“I could build you a den if you’d prefer? There’s plenty of good logs around here,” Sorbet offers. He thinks to himself that once they’re married he’ll have to build him a real house. He can’t exactly force him to live in the lake.

“Yes please!” Gelato responds. He sits idly on a stump as Sorbet gets to work, singing beautiful tunes to himself. The distraction makes Sorbet work a lot slower.

Finally at nightfall, it is done. He’ll admit the final creation is far more complex than it needed to be, absolutely buried in leaves to make sure Gelato is warm, but Sorbet thinks it’s worthwhile. Gelato bows in thanks before inviting Sorbet inside their home for the night. The den is smaller than the cave, so they really have no choice but to hold each other.

“Marry me will you?” Gelato mutters. Sorbet supposes he can’t blame him for being this hasty, the hulder must be so happy to finally find a human man who shows interest in him. Sorbet’s hardly been taking things slowly himself.

“Of course my love,” Sorbet accepts. He kisses the hulder on the lips. “As soon as we make it to the village, we’ll get married.”

“You’re the best man I’ve ever met,” Gelato thanks him. Sorbet supposes that for Gelato’s purposes, that statement is true.

Come morning, they reach the village in hours. The first thing they do is buy new clothes, then take a room at the inn to change into them. Sorbet does not watch Gelato change, still unwilling to view his back out of respect for the hulder’s ways, but once Gelato is finished Sorbet almost wants to cry at how perfect he looks. He kisses him deeply. He could never have fathomed the perfect mate would come to him so fast.

The couple head to the priest’s house with haste. He is surprised to see these outsiders so urgent to marry, but happy to help them nonetheless. The wedding is simple, attended only by the priest’s two housemaids who agreed to witness, but Sorbet would not have it any other way. He only wishes Gelato would not look at the clock so much.

“...Till death do us part,” Gelato finishes his vows. Sorbet does not miss the wicked glare in his eyes as he says those words.

“...Till death do us part,” Sorbet repeats. They are both, in their own understanding of the situation, making a promise they intend to make true. But only Sorbet understands these vows will not expire as quickly as Gelato thinks. Poor thing. Sorbet can’t help but feel sorry for him. He rather dreads what will come tonight.

The most terrible scream erupts from the corner of the room as Sorbet gazes out the window of the inn. He turns around to see exactly what he suspected, Gelato clutching his cow-tail with horror.

“IT SHOULD BE GONE! IT SHOULD BE GONE!” Gelato repeats frantically, gripping the tail so hard he almost seems to want to pull it off himself. He feels for his back, grimacing at what is no doubt the sensation of callous, hollowed bark where skin should now be. Gelato looks up at his husband with searing hatred. “YOU LOOKED, DIDN’T YOU?”

“Gelato,” Sorbet begins calmly. “I promise you with all that I am, that at no point did I look at your back.”

“THEN WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T IT WORK!?” Gelato demands. He storms over to Sorbet with tears streaming down his reddened face. “I JUST WANTED TO BE HUMAN,” he wails. Sorbet takes him into his arms, wiping away his tears. A warm, possessive feeling enters Sorbet’s heart, and he leans down towards his husband’s ear. “And now, you’re mine.”

Gelato shrieks with all the rage he’s ever felt, plunging a hidden dagger into Sorbet’s chest. Not a drop of blood comes out the wound, and Sorbet does not even flinch. The knife drops to the floor, not a cut remaining.

“Oh,” Gelato enunciates, stepping back in terror. “W-what are you? WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT ARE YOU?!”

Gelato collapses to the floor and Sorbet kneels in front of him. He ponders his words deeply. He decides this changes nothing.

“I’m your husband, Gelato. I always will be.”

[apixrl]

DROWSY.

levi ackerman x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.4k

song: before i close my eyes // xxxtentacion

note(s): soft levi lives in my head rent free and that's perfectly okay he can stay for as long as he wants to

Your hand pressed against your back as you stretched, stifling a yawn that echoed through the hallway. You swore you could hear your joints wailing out in distress, every step feeling as though you were dragging a weight behind you that was five times your size. Your bed was calling out to you in more ways than you could count, the idea of snuggling under the covers absolutely heavenly.

It had been a long and tiresome day, to say the least. After waking up early and in bright spirits, you made the decision to go on a long morning jog. To ready yourself for a presumably easy day. But those words came back to bite you when Captain Levi dropped you and your comrades into an intense training segment that lasted all morning. Then proceeded a heavy clean of headquarters in the afternoon. Ordered to rid the underside of the tables of dust and to clear those sneaky corners of muck that had festered far too long. To put a long story short; you were about ready to drop dead on the floor by the time evening rolled on by.

You loved Levi with all your heart, but unfortunately, your relationship with him didn't come with any bonuses. Yes, you saw a softer side on occasion, but the man never allowed bias to take over during work hours. You were treated the same as the others; a soldier in the ranks. A member of Levi's squad. When you did right you were praised and when you did wrong you served the consequences. Levi would set you on a thirty lap run around the camp perimeter if he saw fit, and there was no getting out of it. As much as you could complain, you knew it was for the best. When it came down to it, Levi was your superior as well as his partner and there had to be some line between the two.

Plodding along the hallway, your bedroom door up ahead was your saviour. You could practically taste the sweet rest waiting for you on the other side. Though just before you could reach your salvation, a voice from the neighbouring room stopped you in your step and tore you away from it.

"Y/N,"

Levi.

It would be lying to say you didn't whimper, so close to a good night's sleep yet so far all in one go. But you weren't so selfish that you'd ignore your lover's call because you were simply exhausted. Yes, you considered it... but resisting the urge gave you credibility, right?

Regardless, you exhaled a sigh knowing it would be wrong not to respond. That man you called your partner had ears like a cat anyway. He probably heard you make your way down the hall or noticed your shadow under the door and had sensed your halt upon his call. So dragging your eyes away from the vision of your wonderfully made bed (Levi having been the one to tuck the sheets in that morning since he was the last one up. So no wonder you were fantasizing at the idea of collapsing on there) behind the door of your room, you set your gaze on the door to Levi's office instead.

You realised it was open just a tad, explaining Levi sensing your approach so easily. Pressing your hands against the wooden frame, you pushed it open and popped your head around the door, forcing your eyes open no matter how much they pleaded to close against the candlelight.

As expected, Levi was seated at the chair of his desk. Neck-deep in papers that he'd been working on most of the night. One shorter pile to the left and a taller one to the right - one pile waiting to be looked at whilst the other sat completed. You wondered which one that was... and prayed for Levi's sake it was the tallest pile to allow him a good night's sleep.

His greyed eyes didn't look up upon your entry, something you just managed to notice through the strands of wispy black locks atop Levi's head. That seemed to indicate he was focused on the task at hand, especially from the way his hand efficiently worked at the pieces of paper like it was on autopilot.

"Yes, love?" You asked, resting against the door for a brief moment as your tiredness caught up with you. If you had reacted to it a second later you believed you would have tipped over from loss of balance, and you were relieved when Levi spoke up once more - his voice jolting you upright.

"I need you to take some papers down to the Commander for me," Levi stated, a certain tone in his voice indicating his own form of tiredness. But you knew that rarely stopped him and his work, the man willing to stay up until the early hours of the morning just to get it finished.

His words made your body panic, unsure if it could muster a journey all the way to Erwin's whereabouts. You had barely walked up the stairs of headquarters well, let alone travelling back down them and then all the way back up again.

"It can't wait until tomorrow?" You tried, chewing the inside of your cheek gingerly. From the way Levi glanced over his wad of papers, grey eyes filled with doubt, you knew it was a longshot. "It's just late, that's all. You need to rest,"

"No," Levi ceased all action, slouching down in his seat briefly as his fingertips held the bridge of his nose. His version of a short break and a way to bury his annoyance down. It appeared to be one of those nights, where he was swamped with work and didn't have the opportunity to simply 'head to bed'. "I'm still nowhere near done, and I don't have the time to take the ones I've already looked at to Erwin because of that," It was there his hand propped up, elbow resting on his other which has splayed over his chest. He motioned you over, eyes skipping between you and the seat opposite him until you got the message.

You were delayed in realising, feeling guilty at your inability to proceed Levi's words. You heard them, but fatigue seemed to seize hold and throw them out the window before your brain could comprehend the meaning. You hoisted yourself off of the doorframe, letting the hinges squeak the door shut behind you as you made your way to Levi's desk. You then sat yourself down, hands pressed to the chair arms as your attention steered to your partner.

"Okay... so which pile am I taking?" Was your question, forcing a small smile to at least seem interested. The black-haired man straightened up, eyes skimming over the papers on his desk and seemingly on the floor too. That made your brow raise, head tilting to the side ever so slightly in wonder. What was behind the desk?

Levi proceeded to push his chair back with his feet, his head quickly disappearing under the table as if to grab something. You rested your cheek in your palm as you waited, a hint of a frown as you waited. Your assumptions were correct as, after a few seconds of scuffling around, Levi reappeared from under the desk - standing up to place yet another pile of paper wherever his desk had the space to hold it.

"This one," He addressed, exhaling heavily once he was comfortable in his seat again. Just when you thought that was it, Levi pushed the taller pile of papers forward as well, and it would be wrong to say you were joyful of the sight. In fact, you were very much dismayed, the sight of the multiple piles of papers meaning more than one trip.

Suddenly you wished the shorter pile was the finished one.

"And this one," Levi spoke with little character as per usual, gazing upon the piles of papers like they were nothing more than a pile of dirt. Clearly, he had experienced little joy going through them, but work never got done whilst complaining. The only words ringing in his mind to convince Levi to get his head down and focus. "You'll probably need to take two trips,"

"You don't say," You commented and sighed to yourself. For hours you had awaited your mattress and now look at you, even further away from reaching it as before. It was a big shame you woke up in such an energetic mood and was ending the day feeling like you couldn't lift a finger. "And if I cant find Commander Erwin?"

"He should be in his office," Levi returned. "But if not, place the right pile on his desk," He then gestured to the left, hand pressing on top for emphasis. "This one will need sorting, however. Just separate the tags in the stack and the drawer they belong in is on there. It shouldn't take you too long, just make sure the files are in the right place or Erwin won't be pleased. Oh, and try not to drop them, please? I'd rather not lose four hours worth of work because of your two left feet -," Levi was cut short by a sound he was not at all expecting. A snorting noise caught him off guard, but when he looked up at you in question the answers quickly came pouring in.

It appeared in Levi's ramble you had grown bored. As there you were, head lolling forwards as your arm tried to prop it up, eyes closed and snoring away to your heart's content. Levi quirked a brow at your behaviour, then scoffed lightly. The man couldn't say he was surprised, of course you would nod off to sleep exactly when he needed your help. At a time where he was swamped with things to do and an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt.

"Y/N," He tried after a minute or so passed, Levi frowning at the lack of response. If anything, the snoring grew louder. It was there he tried again, a little more firmly and loudly but still, nothing.

Typical.

Levi sat there in silence and disbelief, watching your frame rise and fall with each intake of breath. Meanwhile, you simply slept on without a care in the world, but it's not like he could leave you there. Leaving you sleeping in such a way was bound to cause a nasty neck and backache the following morning. So with a sigh, Levi hoisted himself out of his chair and walked around his desk to your side. Then he knelt down to your level, hand landing on your shoulder to give you a gentle but firm shake.

"Y/N," Levi spoke, a little softer this time, all whilst trying to nudge you awake. It appeared you had only lightly nodded off, as, after three or four shakes, you stirred out of your little nap. Your eyes shot open to meet Levi's observing you closely, a hint of a frown to his face as he did. In your state you barely noticed though, too busy trying to shake off your drowsiness but failing miserably as your eyes merely drooped more.

"Levi?" You mumbled tiredly, lifting your gaze towards your lover, puzzled over why he was so close to you. "What is it?"

"You fell asleep," Levi said with hesitancy, glancing away from you for a second before he continued. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm? Yes... everything's fine," You reassured, sending him a reassuring smile. Levi narrowed his gaze, prompting you to keep going. "It's just been a long day, that's all,"

"I see," Levi nodded, noticing your lack of attentiveness and sleepy demeanour. All of which you tried to force back through your smile. But Levi knew you better than that. He could see straight through the façade just how you could see straight through his, acting as though you were fine when it was truly quite the opposite. That was enough for Levi to suspect something was up, and that little switch in his head that differed between his role as Captain and partner flipped in an instant.

"Sorry... y-you were saying something before I dropped off weren't you?" You asked and pointed to the papers on the table. "Something about them?"

Levi turned to look at where you gestured, seeing the papers that still needed taking to Erwin. He contemplated still asking for your help, but it was obvious from just the way you looked alone that you were long desperate for rest. So exhaling a small sigh, Levi reluctantly cast his gaze back onto you and shook his head.

"No, don't worry about it," He allowed his hand to leave your shoulder and moved it to your face. Where he tucked a few loose strands of your H/C hair behind your ear, continuing. "It can wait until tomorrow,"

"Are you sure?" You asked through a yawn, leaning into the hand that Levi proceeded to support your cheek with. The subtle graze of his thumb over your cheekbone relaxing you to the point sleep nearly stole you from him once more.

As much as he disliked tampering with his organised routine, Levi knew sending you on errands whilst so tired would do you no good the next day. Perhaps he had pushed you a little far without realising, the thought running through his mind later on in the morning. You'd been lagging behind your comrades more than usual. Much opposing to you typically being at the front of the group and urging them on over the other way around. Whilst it wasn't as obvious in the afternoon, the strain in your expression as you scrubbed the floors and countertops had peeked its way through to him. Levi knew you in and out, and the frustration displayed ran much deeper than that of germs and bacteria. That was blatant now more than ever, so the least you deserved was a good night's rest. Just because he could run on little hours of sleep didn't mean you could.

"Yeah," Levi admired you under the dim light of his office after he spoke. Your inattentive gaze somehow continued to hold such focus as you looked back at him. The way you smiled with such love and yearn. How your cheek felt warm in his palm like he was holding the entire world. Which he was really. He was holding his entire world.

"Oh... okay," You said and your eyes drooped shut, not reopening. That brought Levi to act, blinking out of his daze and pulling himself to his feet with a sharp inhale.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," He said and slipped his arms around you, lifting you into their secure hold. You didn't protest, too tired to make a sound as you adjusted to the new position. A comfier position that ensured security and safety. One hand supported your back as Levi's bicep acted as your pillow and his spare arm hooked under your legs. You could feel the ever so gentle thump of Levi's heartbeat close to your ear, much opposing to his regular temperament - curt and firm and even quite harsh at the most.

Levi carried you out of his office, using his foot to open the door as he proceeded to venture down the hall to your shared bedroom. The place you had been going to before you were called to his aid. You kept your eyes closed the entire time but didn't nod off just yet, the bobbing motion of Levi's walk both drifting and stirring you from sleep. It wasn't long before Levi was pulling back the sheets whilst he only just managed to hold you with one arm. You made it easier by wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, giggling lightly to yourself when you almost slipped. Somewhere in Levi's silence, he found it amusing. Perhaps not verbally placed, but you sensed it nonetheless. Still, he downplayed it with concern, his hand pressing against your back to hold you closely against his frame.

He placed you down with care, hand only leaving your back once it rested on the mattress. Sliding it out, it returned to the sheets as he placed them back over you. Meanwhile, you watched through half-lidded eyes, following where Levi's gaze trailed. Mainly sticking to the sheets he tucked in for you out of the goodness of his heart, though flickered back to you on occasion. His eyes contained a warmth that opposed their normal grey colour. A warmth that he usually failed to place into the spoken word and resorted to showing it rather than saying it.

Eventually, Levi finished, his hands stopping their skilful movement and pressing into the pillow on either side of your head. He was silent for a moment, observing your tiresome state and realising just how fatigued he was too. He battled the urge to collapse on the bed beside you, pull you into his arms and fall fast asleep. To ignore his duties for just one night. Give himself a treat and spend the night snoozing away like the everyday citizen. But Levi knew that was irresponsible. He had been irresponsible enough leaving the paperwork so late. It also wasn't the life he had been fated to lead, regardless of how pleasant the idea may be in the subconscious of his mind.

"I still have a lot of work to do," He uttered no louder than a whisper, exhaling deeply in an apologetic sigh and hating the idea of traipsing back to his office to work. "I'll have to join you later but I'm guessing you'll be asleep,"

"It's okay," You hummed, head tilting to the side as an innocent smile formed on your face. "Do I get a kiss good night, at least?"

Levi couldn't fight the small chuckle that escaped him, head proceeding to hang forwards and shake too and fro at your words. He truly felt he didn't deserve you and the love you gave him. Always so understanding, never complaining about his packed work schedule. How you made him feel steady and kept him sane. Perhaps it was because you were a soldier too and knew how time-consuming the job was, but Levi was grateful for all of it. The man met your eyes, a certain radiance in them that he'd refrain from showing to anyone else other than you.

"You're twenty-nine years old and you act like a child," He remarked with no ill intent, the laugh that elicited from you music to his ears.

"Yeah, and you chose to -," You were cut off, Levi leaning forwards to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss. You hummed in approval, forgetting the words you planned to say and instead enjoyed the display of affection. Levi lingered longer than usual, an indirect apology for the fact he had to leave you with the bed half cold. You didn't question it, knowing Levi's work never truly stopped and granted him a break. The fact he'd even paused just to tuck you in comfortably was enough to satisfy your needs, whether Levi would believe that or not was up to him. But your eyes fell closed, both from bliss and sleep catching up to claim control.

Gradually your lips loosened on Levi's, indicating you had nodded off. He opened his eyes and pulled back in question, watching your head tilt faintly to the side as your pillow held its weight. Levi exhaled deeply, leaning down to plant one final kiss on your forehead. Then he hoisted himself off of the bed and walked to the door.

"Good night, Y/N," He said once there, glancing back at you one final time. From where he stood, you appeared merrily at peace. Finally grateful for the embrace of your bedsheets after a dragging day of nonstop training. Levi did feel somewhat bad for being a cause for your tiredness, knowing that he could sometimes be cruel when playing his 'Captain' role. But he couldn't favour you just because of his feelings, and the fact you rarely made that an issue provided him relief like no other. Still, Levi's guilt asserted as he closed the bedroom door quietly behind him.

Why... it wouldn't be terrible if he let you sleep in a little bit past the wake-up call, would it?

[hexfloog]

Alt version of this draft I posted last night, since I had time to think on daydreamed about it a little more today~

Internal screaming hours below the break (more speculative than usual fwiw):

I am of the opinion that anyone who dons the Kaitou Kid moniker is, whether they want to be or not, a subconscious wielder of white magic. Since the definition of white magic is so subjective (or so I'm told), it's enough for that magic to be as simple as the joy Kaito spreads as a teen magician or the mischievous KID, as campy as it is. The idea of some kind of inherited supernatural element in the moniker itself is very intriguing to me, whether it's familial-- the lingering spirit of Toichi, perhaps, vengeful or paternal or protective or all of the above-- or just something that comes with the package, like a divine prank.

MK1412 teases us with some light Magic Lore, with Jii explaining how Magicians and Sorcerers are natural enemies and that there are colors which differentiate the types of Real Magic (if I'm remembering correctly, anyway). Akako repeatedly makes passing comments about how she is at odds with tricksters and illusionists. I desssperately want expansion on this lore, even if just a little... at least tell us what the different colors mean in this world PLEASE I AM BEGGING-- *grabby hands*

So on the subject of divine pranks, in the last iteration of this image I briefly mused about what kinds of doors the supernatural element of Kaito's world opens for us, especially those concerning his father.

Hereditary or not, Kaito's real curse with the KID moniker is, I think, the eternal pursuit of something which may or may not exist. Kaito himself has been shown to be a skeptic of Pandora's existence, and yet he willingly commits himself to this charade in hopes of foiling his father's murderers. (On that note, I wholeheartedly do not subscribe to the idea that Toichi is simply MIA, he is deader than dead and Corbeau was absolutely his ghost come alive with the help of some other sorcerer on Chikage's behalf to caution him about the inevitable end should he continue--)

I wonder if he's aware of the scale of his situation-- and he has to be tbh, having cheated death more than once??-- and whether he's thought about what Toichi would think. Kaito's relationship with his father is THE driving force of his character and his motivations, he clearly takes after him in several respects beyond that of magical prowess. He obviously became the next Kaito Kid to lure out The Organization for purposes of revenge-- and maybe to emulate his father, to know him as best he could (like how Ran used to dip her toes into detective work to get closer to Shinichi, so to speak)-- but was he always fated to become the next KID anyway? Even if Toichi hadn't died? And in that vein, if that's the case-- if that's the supernatural element-- to what extent does Toichi live on through his son?

The iteration above suggests a slightly different answer than the last:

(I can't choose between them skjdhfskjdf. I will finish both versions probably)

Anyway,,, coming back to the whole unwilling wielder of white magic thing,,, I want to believe Toichi watches over his son from beyond the grave as he pursues Pandora. He might be dead but he is still very much present. From a visual standpoint... if he manifests in any way, given my earlier musings, I definitely think he'd manifest as white magic. And "manifesting" is a vague term, here - he could be in the ambition of Kaito's next trick, the emotion behind a change of heart, or the decision not to pull the trigger. How free is Kaito from the curse of KID, or the influence of his father?

I'm not really suggesting Kaito's trapped in identity hell in the same way I think Shinichi is with Conan. Rather, Kaito's story has always had more to do with fate and what it means for him to willingly choose to follow it and I'm excited to finally start having Real Thoughts about it~

(I may or may not owe the spark of inspiration to the song Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison, which I quoted in the previous post. It is firmly cemented in my mind as a Toichi revenge song, though it could easily be a Shinichi revenge song too kdhfsjdgf. Both Kaito and Conan are both in their own respects breeds of phoenix UGH ;.; <3)

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

--------------------

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

--------------

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[patchofsunlight]

Pretty Eyes | Sokka x Fem!Reader

Hello! This is my first ever imagine and I have no idea of what I’m doing, but I guess that’s the beauty of it all, right? So here we go!

SUMMARY: Y/N and Sokka do not get on well. That changes, however, after one particular night.

WORD COUNT: 6k I’m not used to writing oneshots it got so long I’m sorry if the “keep reading” thingy doesn’t work

WARNINGS: there’s a bit of kissing at the end? also I think there’s one or two cuss words. there’s some angst and mutual pining, since it’s an enemies-to-lovers. Toph is Y/N’s best friend bc I love her. and bad writing! I think it feels kinda rushed and English is not my first language so I’m not really sure how to feel about this tbh

I hope you like it! Also if you want to request something please do just ask me what I write for and I’ll tell you!!

Y/N definitely did not regret leaving Zuko and joining the Avatar and his team. It was probably the best thing she had ever done, the first step to finally forgiving herself for all the years she worked for the Fire Nation and for all the pain she caused alongside it, the first step to letting go of all the hurt she held inside her heart.

But Spirits, she couldn’t take Sokka’s attitude anymore.

“We can’t let Y/N go to the city alone, it’s a three day trip! What if she tells her Fire Nation friends we are here?”

He was the only one who hadn’t warmed up to her yet. Toph had taken a liking to her almost immediately, which Y/N firmly believed was for the sole reason of spiting Sokka, but she didn’t exactly mind. Toph was the first person to treat her like a human being and not an enemy, and she was deeply thankful for that. The first few weeks with Team Avatar were difficult — the Water Tribe people didn’t trust her, Aang was unconscious, Katara was going crazy with worry for her friend, and Sokka accused her of being a Fire Nation spy every two seconds. Siding with the Avatar in the crystal cave had done nothing for her reputation, it seemed: she was still Zuko’s friend, still a bad person, still Fire Nation scum, among other endearing titles.

Katara came around eventually, while Aang was still recovering from his injuries. At one point, the waterbender told her she was the only one not pissing her off in the Water Tribe boat they occupied, which made her smile.

And Aang, well, he was a sweetheart. She would never forget the way the small boy laughed loudly after Katara told him how she punched Azula in the face after the Fire Princess hit him with lightning, kindly leaving out the part where Azula immediately gave her a nasty burn after recovering from the surprise of a fist to the nose. 

“Come on, Sokka,” Katara countered, rolling her eyes in annoyance, “we’ve talked about this.”

Then there was Sokka, who still pretty much hated her, even as they now hid inside the Fire Nation together. “You know I’m right, Katara. You should go with her to make sure she doesn’t turn her back on us.”

“You guys know she is right here, right? Are you ignoring her or something?”

“It’s okay, Toph,” Y/N touched the girl’s arm fondly, avoiding the glare Sokka sent her way. “You don’t need to worry..”

“No, it’s not okay!” Katara snapped, letting go of the shirt she was stitching up and staring at her brother angrily. “Why don’t you go with her, then, if you’re so worried?”

“That seems like a good idea!” Aang smiled brightly from his place beside Appa. “It could be a fun bonding trip!”

“No!” Sokka and Y/N said almost at the exact time before exchanging a very confused look. Something seemed to ignite inside him just as he turned to glower at her with rage in his eyes. “Why don’t you want me to go, firegirl? Is it because I’m right?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you are a jerk to her all the time, but okay,” Toph muttered. Katara bit back a snicker, taking the shirt from the ground and trying to focus on it again.

“Well, I’m going,” Sokka announced, crossing his arms, “since she’s hiding things from us and trying to go to the city alone.”

“I am not hiding anything! No one else wanted to go to the city so I volunteered, it’s not that deep.”

“Well, then why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

“I don’t know, Sokka, why do you accuse me of being a traitor all the time?”

“That’s got nothing to do with this! But you did betray Zuko, who was supposed to be your boyfriend or whatever—”

“Zuko was not my boyfriend.”

“— and once a traitor, always a traitor.”

“That’s enough!” Katara interrupted, annoyance written all over her face. “We chose Y/N to make the trip to the city and I can’t take being near Sokka anymore, so you two will leave right now to get us supplies, food and clothes. Do you understand?”

“I—”

“I don’t care, Sokka! Go get your things, see you in three days.”

------

Sokka wasn’t really sure why he hated Y/N so much anymore. Hell, he was even starting to think he might actually enjoy her presence, in a way. Not that he would tell that to anyone.

She was still the enemy, even while Katara laughed at something she said and Toph clinged to her, talking her ears off about whatever was going on through her mind. She was still the enemy when Aang asked to braid her hair and when she talked to Appa and Momo while she thought no one noticed. Y/N was still the enemy while her eyes shone with delight whenever Toph made a joke and while she smiled that pretty smile of hers at Aang, and she was definitely still the enemy when his heart skipped a beat whenever she accidently looked at him without that angry look he always managed to put on her face.

Yes, Sokka didn’t like her in any way. He couldn’t like her, he refused to like her. She was from Fire Nation. Even if the others accepted her, he knew the truth — Y/N would never be trustworthy, would never be one of them.

The caves they were currently hiding in were Fire Nation territory, and the trip towards the city was long, specially since they couldn’t use Appa. After two miles, Sokka was already bored. 

“Is your Fire Nation home close by?” he questioned, a hint of accusation in his voice. Y/N didn’t spare him a glance and, for some unknown reason, Sokka felt annoyed by it.

“No.”

“Well, then where is it?” he pressed, staring at her.

“Where is what?”

“Your Fire Nation home.”

“I don’t have one, Sokka. Are you done?”

The Water Tribe warrior scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “you don’t have one, firegirl? Yeah, right. I’m sure you lived in a big house where everyone did every little thing you wanted them to,” he watched as she sighed, her eyes flooding with irritation, “am I wrong?”

It was her turn to scoff, “shut up, waterboy.”

He raised his eyebrows, “waterboy?”

“Come on, the quicker we do this the quicker I can be away from you. We have no time to lose.”

------

They set up camp in the woods near a small village halfway to the city. While walking, they didn’t speak much besides Sokka’s stupid questions and Y/N’s dry answers — he noticed how she acted different now they were alone together, almost as if she had closed up on herself and, ignoring the stinging in his chest, he wondered if she would ever smile and laugh with him the way she did with the Aang, Toph and Katara. With a certain heaviness to his thoughts, Sokka concluded that no, she probably wouldn’t. Not that he cared, obviously.

“I can do first watch,” he let her know, watching carefully as Y/N yawned and arranged her sleeping bag on the hard ground.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll wake you up when it’s my turn to sleep.”

Y/N nodded, falling asleep almost instantly as she laid her head down. When she slept, she didn’t look like a traitor as much as she usually did. She looked like a normal, beautiful girl he would really love to get to know better. But of course he couldn’t, because she was from the Fire Nation and would eventually betray them all, or at least that’s what Sokka told himself to avoid getting too close, too attached. Spirits, he had lost so many people that adding one more person in his care-about list was unthinkable, unreasonable and just all-around stupid.

Sokka wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Y/N started moving in her sleep, her previously peaceful expression now filled with anxiety and fear as she turned and tossed. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her curiously.

“No,” he could hear her mutter, “please, no. Please.”

“Y/N?” his voice was calm as he knelt down by her sleeping bag, recognizing the signs of a nightmare. “Y/N, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried out, her eyelids shut tight, “please. I’m sorry!”

“Y/N!”

The girl sat up suddenly, hitting her forehead with his. Sokka groaned at the sudden pain, bringing a hand up to his forehead and touching it lightly. Meanwhile, Y/N took in her surroundings, her breathing heavy. She could already feel a lump forming inside her throat.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, finally noticing her panicked motions and moving forward to touch her shoulder but hesitating. Sokka would usually greet her with a mean comment, but he could see the nervousness on her face and it worried him. “Do you need some water?”

“No, I’m good,” she swallowed, trying to slow down her breathing. “I just—just got a nightmare.”

“I noticed,” the Water Tribe warrior smiled sadly, “I get those too.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, trying to wrap her head around the fact Sokka was actively being nice to her. It felt weird but had a kind of warmth taking over her chest that she didn’t mind one bit.

He scratched the back of his neck, staring at her while she kept her eyes trained on her own hands, “do you want to talk about it?” He noticed her intrigued expression and sighed, going on, “Katara always tells me that talking about nightmares makes them go away. So… Do you want to talk about yours?”

Y/N looked at him attentively, searching for some type of mockery or teasing on his face. Sokka seemed to blush under her gaze, but she was sure it was just the moonlight tricking her eyes. Y/N exhaled deeply, crossing her arms in a defensive stance and biting down on her lower lip as she couldn’t find any bad intention in his gaze, deciding to share some of the vulnerability he was offering her. “It was just something that happened some years ago. Before I left with Zuko, I mean.”

He nodded, leaning on his hands with his arms straight while sat beside her, “I never understood why you left with him, to be honest,” he commented, “he doesn’t seem like the fun type.”

Y/N let out a small smile and Sokka could swear his heart jumped inside his chest for some reason, “he was never the fun type, but he was still my best friend, even though banishment changed him. But I didn’t leave just because of Zuko.”

That was new information. “You didn’t?”

She shook her head, looking down at her hands again, “no.”

“Then why?”

Sokka observed as her entire body tensed and felt the immediate urge to apologize for the question and tell her to go back to sleep. Before he could open his mouth, however, she answered in a broken voice that sounded nothing like her own, “I couldn’t stay. My dad had just died in the war and my mom…” her eyes were full of anguish and misery, still watching her fingers lock and unlock, “she wasn’t doing very well. My nightmare,” she hesitated, inhaling sharply before training her gaze on him again, “it was about her.”

They looked at each other, lazy eyes studying faces with a new curiosity and innocence they hadn’t held for one another before. Something flashed through Y/N’s expression before she asked, averting her pretty eyes from him, “do you want to see it?”

Sokka furrowed his brows in confusion, “see what?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath before raising her tunic slightly. The Water Tribe boy felt his whole face flush with embarrassment but he noticed the marks before he could look away — something that must’ve been a horrible burn, the scar covering a great part of her right side, stretching from her bellybutton to just under her chest. “Iroh spent a lot of time changing mine and Zuko’s bandages in the first months after we left,” she smiled sadly and then put her clothes back into place.

“Your mom did that?”

“She didn’t mean to,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “it was an accident, but still. Whenever I think about it, I’m really glad I was born a non-bender.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Having the power to cause so much pain and destruction… I wouldn’t want that in anyway.”

Sokka hummed in understanding and appreciation. He knew she was a non-bender like him but they had never really talked about what that meant to them and to Team Avatar. He wasn’t aware she didn’t crave bending like he did, but it felt nice to hear her speak about it like that.

Showing someone her scar felt… Different, but not a bad different. Y/N had grown accustomed to hiding it all the time, even though she didn’t feel ashamed of it. It was just an ugly part of her that held too many bad memories that she intended to keep to herself. Letting Sokka see it was strange and she didn’t know exactly why she did it, to be honest. It felt right, though. Talking to him like they were friends felt right. Being around him like that felt very, very right.

“You should sleep, waterboy,” she punched his shoulder softly, ignoring her own thoughts, “I’ll keep guard for the rest of the night.”

He was quick to deny, “no, I’m fine, you should—”

“Sokka,” her tone was demanding, “you need to rest too. Come on, get some sleep. I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again anyway.”

He would love to disagree but he recognized the look on her face. She wasn’t asking him to sleep — she was telling him to. For some reason, that thought made him smile.

“Okay,” Sokka answered quietly as he got into his own sleeping bag, “good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sokka. Sleep well.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“It’s alright.”

------

The rest of the trip was better than expected. It seemed like that one vulnerable moment they shared affected their relationship in more ways than one, and they traveled peacefully to the city and back. They even managed to spark conversation with each other in some instances.

Sokka would love to say that being in good terms with Y/N made him satisfied, but that would be a lie. Aang, Katara and Toph were really happy with their new dynamic, glad they could talk to each other without mean comments or accusations — Y/N and Sokka were the only ones inside the Gaang who still had to become friends, and now that they did, everyone seemed pleased and content.

Except Sokka.

Being around her was difficult. Now that he didn’t expect the worst of her all the time, he couldn’t ignore what he felt whenever she was close by, the sensations he once thought were just his way of feeling disgust and anger taking a different shape. He would catch himself smiling stupidly at her while she laughed with someone else and would feel his whole face reddening when she looked into his eyes. However, he remembered very clearly the last time he felt something like that, and it didn’t end well. He couldn’t have that again.

Avoiding her was even more difficult and he couldn’t keep it up for a single day. After finally being able to taste what a friendship with Y/N felt like, he couldn’t stop from craving it more and more. Instead of being away from her like he intended so he could get rid of whatever feelings he was gathering, he actively went out of his way to be near her, even when his mind screamed at him to just let go.

Sokka couldn’t get attached to someone like that once more. He couldn’t forget what happened to Yue — liking someone was not his cup of tea, it would end tragically and he didn’t want it, couldn’t have it, not again.

But a part of him entertained these feelings, these thoughts. It didn’t matter, right? She would never feel the same for him, so it was okay. He wouldn’t get hurt because he would never actually have her so there was no way to lose her.

Right?

------

Everything happened fast.

They didn’t think the Fire Nation soldiers would find them anytime soon and yet they still did. They were nearing the Day of the Black Sun and being found out in Fire Nation territory was less than ideal, to say the least. Y/N was just glad they had Toph, Aang and Katara to fight for them — they were truly amazing benders and there were many more soldiers than she would normally expect.

Everything happened too fast.

She had been taught from a young age how to fight with a sword and was slowly trying to teach Sokka too, even though teaching was proving itself to be harder than learning. They fought from the sidelines, hitting the soldiers the three benders couldn’t hit or see. One of them had a sword too and Y/N rapidly engaged in a difficult fight while also keeping an eye out for Sokka, who was fighting another soldier to her right.

She couldn’t deny the feelings growing inside her towards the boy. Weeks before, she would have straight up laughed if anyone told her she would fall for him, and now there she was. Y/N loved his smile and his voice and his stupid jokes and the way he called her “firegirl” with an endearing tone instead of the accusative one he used to always have when talking to her only weeks before. She loved how his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him for too long and she loved hearing him go on and on about his plans and theories. She loved it all so much she didn’t even mind Toph’s constant teasing: “Calm down your heart, Y/N,” the younger girl would say with a mocking smile, “it’s just Sokka!”

“Shut up, Toph.”

Y/N knew he would never feel the same, but a girl can dream, and dream she did. They would talk late into the night, guarding camp together and exchanging childhood stories. Being around him was very comforting, in a way. 

Everything happened fast.

She got distracted when the soldier battling against Sokka seemed to get the upper hand, even though Sokka fought back and took control of the conflict again easily. However, that instant was enough for her own enemy to attack.

The pain was unbearable but Y/N kept on fighting. There was blood running down her skin, staining her clothes, the wound to her ribs deep and distressing, but she couldn’t leave her friends like that. She manipulated her sword the best she could, ignoring the sharp pain felt with every intake of breath, taking down as many non-bender soldiers as possible.

They ran for Appa when there was finally an opening, climbing onto the flying bison and leaving the remaining Fire Nation soldiers behind them.

Adrenaline was responsible for making her able to endure the pain but now that they were safe and flying while Aang and Katara disguised Appa as clouds, her vision went out of focus and she stumbled, clinging to Toph’s arm in a last attempt to remain conscious and alert. “Y/N? Are you alright?” the girl asked confusedly, her brows furrowed in question.

“Yes,” Y/N was able to get one word out, even though her thoughts were getting messier by the second and black dots appeared before her eyes. “Just tired,” she muttered. It was true — she could feel exhaustion taking over her body and head, slowly making her slump over herself.

She felt like her body was on fire, almost as if she had been burned all over. The pain made it hard to concentrate, her mind trained on the feeling of blood soaking her tunic, every breath causing waves of agony to take over her. The stab wound seemed to be throbbing, unabling her of any coherent thought.

“You sure? You seem—Spirits! Katara, come here! Y/N was wounded! She is bleeding!”

A part of her brain registered a touch to her ribs, Toph’s small hands hanging over her with no idea of what to do. She could hear Katara’s voice from somewhere on her right but she knew Katara needed to keep up their cover alongside Aang. They couldn’t afford risking their disguise just yet, they were still too close to those soldiers.

(Or so she thought. She couldn’t be really sure, since her mind was clouded and she felt extremely confused, the black dots slowly taking over her vision until she saw nothing but unrecognizable shadows.)

Amongst the screams, there was Sokka. He had left his place guiding Appa and came running to her, horror written all over his face as he started to put pressure on her bleeding wound, following Katara’s instructions.

“You’re going to be okay,” his voice sounded weird, disconnected, out of place. Y/N wished she could see him properly. She had come to appreciate how beautiful he actually was, with his endearing smile and bright blue eyes. She really wished she could see him. “Stay awake for me, alright?”

“Waterboy,” she mumbled with a lazy smile before darkness consumed her entirely.

------

There was so much blood. Sokka could see how the water covering Katara’s hands was stained, he could see how soaked Y/N’s tunic was. He could see her, her skin so pale she almost looked dead. That thought alone made Sokka’s stomach turn over inside his body, his eyes stinging with anxious tears.

They did an emergency landing on a small island nearby, Katara trying to maintain their cover as Aang rushed to the reins Sokka had abandoned in his frenzy. Meanwhile, Sokka and Toph were screaming at each other in utter panic, trying desperately to help their friend somehow. His hands were still shaking and red from putting pressure on the wound like his sister had told him to. 

“What is happening?” he stopped pacing as he heard Toph’s weak voice, the small girl playing with her own fingers in nervousness. “Is Katara’s healing working?”

There was ringing inside his ears as he stared at his sister. He could clearly see tears streaming down her face as she exchanged the red water on her hands for the clean one Aang had put on a container and positioned nearby. His heart throbbed inside his chest, a million thoughts going through his head at the same time.

Y/N was going to die. He was going to lose her. He would never see her smile again and he would never hear her laugh again and she would never tell him stories about her childhood again. He would never watch her as she played around with Toph and he would never be able to peek at her as she trained her sword fighting skills anymore. He would never talk to her late at night and he would never appreciate the way her voice sounded again.

He would never feel his heart pick up whenever she walked inside a room again. He would never smile unconsciously just by seeing her smile again. And she would never know how much she meant to him, how much he genuinely liked her and everything she did.  He was going to lose her without even knowing if maybe, in a distant time, when the war was over and they were safe, she would want to stay with him, making him laugh and smiling that gorgeous smile of hers at him everyday. Sokka would never know if somehow she wanted him as much as he wanted her, with all his flaws and faults and fears.

He would never know and he would never have her by his side again and he wanted to scream until his throat was sore. He wanted to cry himself to sleep and pretend this was just a bad dream he would eventually wake up off hearing her beautiful laugh as she chatted with Katara and Toph during breakfast.

“Sokka? Please, tell me what is happening. How is Y/N?”

The Water Tribe warrior felt a sudden anger spark up inside him. He should’ve done something, he should’ve noticed she’d been hit, and so should the others. Weren’t they powerful benders? Couldn’t they sense everything through the earth or some other bullshit like that? Weren’t they better than him in every way? Well, they could have at least saved her.

“Shut up, Toph! This is your fault! You should have noticed she was wounded! You should have helped her before it was too late!”

He didn’t mean it. A part of him knew it was not her fault, but his brain was enveloped in pain and desperation and he just wanted someone to blame so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt forming in his chest. He was losing Y/N and there was nothing he could do about it.

Toph went from worried to pissed off quickly, tightening her hands in fists and sending a few rocks flying towards the sea surrounding the island, “how is this my fault?! I was fighting off a few soldiers too, you know? It’s not like I could have stopped everything I was doing and ran to her!”

He moved his arms around frantically, “you don’t even care about her!”

“I don’t care about her? She’s my best friend!”

“You obviously didn’t care enough to help!”

“Oh, you little—”

“That’s enough!” Katara’s voice sounded fragile but terrifying, averting her gaze from her bloody hands to glare at them. “I can’t concentrate with all this screaming!”

“Sokka started it!”

“I don’t care who started it!” she barked, her eyes burning with rage. “Get out!”

Sokka opened his mouth to oppose, feeling his entire body tense with the idea of being away from Y/N in such a moment, but didn’t get to as Aang took a hold of his arm and started to lead him towards somewhere else on the beach. Toph groaned in frustration before leaving in the opposite direction.

“You need to calm down,” Aang sounded serene while dragging his friend through the sand, “arguing is not going to get us anywhere. We need to be together right now to get through this.”

The Avatar turned to look at Sokka when he planted his feet in place, tears flooding his eyes. It almost seemed like Aang was telling him how they had to support each other through their upcoming grief.

He was going to lose her. Damn, he had probably already lost her. She was gone and she would never know.

“Sokka? Are you okay?”

“I—” he hesitated, trying so hard not to cry he could feel his head throb. “I don’t—,” he swallowed harshly, but the lump in his throat didn’t go away, “I can’t lose her, Aang,” his voice cracked miserably and he gave up on holding back his heartache, letting the tears fall down his face. A sob wrecked his body and a hint of understanding went through Aang’s eyes, the smaller boy coming closer to hold his forearms.

“You’re not going to lose her, Sokka. Katara is going to fix it and she’ll be okay.”

“No, she won’t,” it was getting hard to breathe between his cries, but if felt better than pretending everything was okay, “she’s gone. And I—I think I’m in love with her, and she’ll never know. She’ll die and she’ll never know.”

“Sokka—”

“This is what happens every time I have feelings for someone. I lost Yue and now Y/N too.”

“Sokka, your feelings for Yue weren’t responsible for what happened to her. She told you not to be afraid of love, remember? I’m sure she is proud of you for moving on and falling in love with Y/N, and if we lose Y/N, your feelings will not be to blame either. But we won’t, okay? Katara is going to save her, I promise. She will be fine and you will be able to tell her how you feel. Do you understand?”

Sokka felt himself crumble in pain, another sob escaping his lips as Aang hugged him tightly. He cried loudly, holding onto his friend for dear life.

“Y/N will be okay, Sokka. She is strong and she would never leave us like that, okay? Never. I promise.”

------

When Y/N opened her eyes, it was already dark. A tent had been put up around her, but she noticed the cold night breeze even before she saw the starry sky. 

She took notice of the neat bandages covering her stab wound. There was a soreness to her every movement, but the searing pain from before was gone. She exhaled deeply and tried to sit but quickly gave up at the ache that formed in her ribs. Lying on the sand, she breathed slowly.

“Y/N?” she turned her head towards the direction of who was calling her and found Toph’s grey eyes. The small girl seemed tired, rubbing the sleep of her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows as she called again, “Y/N, are you awake? I thought I heard something.”

“Hey. I’m awake,” she smiled softly, moving her arm the tiniest bit just so she could touch her friend’s leg. 

Toph immediately gave her the biggest smile, jumping up from her spot sitting down to try and hug her friend carefully, “Never do that again, you idiot!” a weak chuckle escaped Y/N as she tried to hug back, but it hurt too much. Toph didn’t mind. “You got us all so worried! Aang went crazy trying to keep everyone calm, Katara cried a whole lot, and Sokka got so nervous he screamed at me. He apologized, though, so I’m not angry at him anymore,” Toph widened her eyes in realization, “I have to tell them you’re finally awake! Wait here, I’ll come back in a second. Try not to get stabbed in the meantime.”

Y/N giggled at her words, sighing as she found herself alone in the tent. For a second, she let herself wonder: she wouldn’t be up and about for a while, that much was obvious. However, Team Avatar couldn’t deal with that kind of liability and she asked herself what they were going to do about it.

Aang was the first to arrive, hugging her so tight Katara started screaming at him to be mindful of her injuries as soon as she reached the entrance. They spoke briefly about the gravity of her wound and Katara scolded her for not telling them she had been stabbed sooner while Aang and Toph bit back their laughter.

“Y/N?” Sokka’s hoarse voice was enough to make silence ring through the tent, the bags under his eyes dark and unmissable. Y/N met his blue eyes, her heart clenching painfully when she noticed the bare sadness inside them. 

Katara cleared her throat, grabbing Aang and Toph gently and steering them outside, “we’ll be handling the supplies if you need us!”

“What? I want to stay with Y/N!”

“Spirits, Toph, shut up.”

The Fire Nation girl smiled at the arguing outside, averting his trained gaze. An awkward quiet settled between them — Y/N didn’t know exactly why there was such a heaviness to the air they shared, but it was too clear to ignore.

“I—” he hesitated, a crack to his words as he closed his eyes tightly. “You really scared me today.”

Y/N tried to sit up, frowning from the pain. Sokka immediately knelt down next to her to help and it felt too much like the night he first woke her up from a nightmare, saying soft words and treating her nicely. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, holding onto his forearms for support, “I didn’t exactly mean to.”

“I know,” he muttered in response, sitting down in front of her. She crossed her legs under her and they stared at each other for a few moments, thick tension surrounding them. She couldn’t help but notice how close they were to each other, so close she didn’t have to lean in too much for their lips to touch. Slowly and unsurely, Sokka brought his hand up to put a lock of hair away from her face. Her stomach fluttered at the touch and Y/N sighed happily. “I was just afraid.”

She blinked in soft confusion that made his insides bloom with butterflies, “afraid of what?”

“Of losing you.”

She smiled, “You know Katara would heal me, Sokka.”

“I care about you very much, Y/N,” the words stumbled out of his mouth while she stared, “more than I probably should, but I do. You,” he shook his head, hesitantly taking his hand away from her face and wiping the tears that had escaped his eyes, “you mean a lot to me.”

His heart seemed to burn while she took his hand in hers, squeezing it delicately, “you mean a lot to me too.”

He exhaled deeply, frustrated to no end. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. I—damn, I don’t even know how to say this.”

“I get it.”

“You don’t. You have no idea how broken I was just by thinking of not having you around anymore. I was so scared. I thought I would never be able to tell you how I feel about you,” he let out a shaky breath before leading his eyes back to her face, “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

He groaned, “no, Y/N. I mean that I like you.”

“Yes, I understood that much.”

“No, I mean I—” he was interrupted by her soft lips on his, moving so gently he was sure he could die from the sheer tenderness of it all. Sokka was fast to kiss her back, bringing his fingers up to hold her jaw while her hands went up to his hair, a sharp pain running through her body at the movement and making her hiss. He moved away instantly, but her arms held him close. Their noses were still touching and they breathed heavily, eyes trained on each other.

She smirked, “is that what you meant?”

He chuckled weakly, rubbing circles on her jaw fondly with his thumb, “yeah. You’re way better at confessions than I am.”

Y/N threw her head back in laughter and he grinned at her happiness, “why, thank you.”

The couple gazed at each other, eyes sparkling with love. She sighed before leaning in and giving him a quick peck, giggling when his lips followed her blindly as she distanced her face from his. Sleepiness was catching up to her from the exhaustion of being hurt.

“Come on, waterboy. Lay with me.”

Sokka helped her lay back down, lying beside her and feeling his cheeks flush with delight when she snuggled up to him, getting into a comfortable spot with her head placed on his chest. He carefully positioned his hands on her waist, stroking her side absentmindedly. Her eyes fluttered close with satisfaction.

“Did Katara ask about your scar?”

“Not really. I think she was too worried trying to save me from death and all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was.”

She grinned, moving to play with his hair and exhaling contently, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He tightened his hold around her, warmth coating his every touch, “so am I, firegirl. So am I.”

In that moment, Y/N cared for nothing but the way his skin felt on hers and the sound of his heart beating under her ear.

so I asked @azucanela​ @beifongsss​ and @sokkascroptop​ on anon if I could tag them when this was done and they said yes so here it is? please give me honest criticism I have no idea of what I’m doing and I admire you all very much thank you!!