#yeah no there have been many stories over the years of wild animals raised from a young age

[igayorhm]

Some of y’all need to go back and learn what domestication is and how long it takes cause y’all really are out here gushing over and defending videos of dumb white people keeping wild animals like tigers and bears as pets all because they’re being fed from a baby bottle. 

[cobawrites]

A Gust of Wind (Vash x Reader), Chapter 4

Vash x Reader, GN! Reader, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance. No real tw’s for this chapter, but see warnings for chapters 1 and 2, and some future chapters. Reader awakens to an unfamiliar world, left alone and struggling with mental health problems from before the crash. Vash emerges as a guiding light for Reader, and vice versa.

Note: I made a mistake in chapter 3. I thought it had been 120 years since the crash, but it should have been 150. I apparently can’t math OR pay attention! Anyway, chapter 3 has since been updated.

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                                                    A Gust of Wind

                                                        Chapter 4

As you and Vash set out for town, you took the time to gather your bearings and note any special landmarks, but it was a near impossible task. The sand dunes seemed endless, and there weren’t many distinguishing features to speak of. It didn’t seem quite so hopeless when you first left the ship. Wandering around aimlessly was easy, but actually trying to get somewhere was a different story.

Come to think of it, what distinguishing features had you noticed closer to the ship? You remembered strong winds and a steady incline as you left, but not much more than that. Furthermore, a large portion of the ship itself was covered in sand dunes, so if you went even slightly in the wrong direction, you could never hope to spot it.

Vash reassured you several times that he had extremely sharp eyes. Although you were not entirely convinced, you decided to follow the original plan anyway. You had been nothing but honest about how little you knew the path back to the ship, and if he wanted to go on a wild goose chase with you, that was his choice to make. At least you had some idea of the general direction you had come from. For now, that would have to do.

After a couple of hours, and two or three threats from Vash about carrying you again if you didn’t stop limping, you finally reached town. He bought a couple of those giant feathery creatures called thomases from a small herder who seemed eager to sell. A quick look inside the animals’ enclosure showed only a couple bags of feed left. The herder admitted that, pretty soon, they’d be on the menu, too, especially if the neighboring town continued to hike up the cost of their imports. You felt bad for those poor creatures…

“I don’t know if I could ever bring myself to slaughter an animal I raised from birth…” you sighed as you walked away, pulling your thomas along by its lead.

“That’s why we are going to help these people – so they won’t have to do anything like that, or worse.” Said Vash, hopping on his thomas without much thought and adjusting the reins. He looked back at you expectantly.

You stared at the foothold of the saddle for a second, swallowing hard as you eyed the creature’s wide body and thick, muscular legs. Oh yeah, this big boy could kick Mr. String Bean’s kneecaps in any day of the week. The thomas drilled holes into your eyes with its gaze and ruffled its feathers a bit.

“Careful,” warned Vash. “They may be fairly tame, but they’ll pick up on fear pretty easily and get restless. You don’t want to get kicked off one of these guys.”

Steeling yourself, you hooked your foot onto the foothold and attempted to swing yourself over. But as soon as your other foot was off the ground, the thomas shook violently, and sent you flying face first into the dirt.

Groaning, you stood up slowly, head still spinning until you heard a strangled laugh. Your gaze snapped over to Vash, who was now looking in every direction but yours. Eyes narrowed at his increasingly nervous face, you petted the thomas’s head, attempting to soothe its puffed feathers. You then tried to hop on once again, but forgetting all about your loving pats, the creature shoved you away the second you put weight on the foothold. Well, at least you landed on your butt this time…

Another muffled snicker came from Vash’s direction. The noise stopped the second you locked eyes with him. That’s what you thought...

Lips pressed firmly into a thin line, he dismounted from his thomas and placed his foot on the foothold. “Like this,” he began, then mounted the creature effortlessly with a smile. “Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy,” you mocked in a high-pitched voice under your breath. “Smug little…”

This went on for another fifteen minutes, with Vash offering a couple of tips here and there. Of course, just about all the advice he gave you missed its mark by a landslide. He was a natural, and you were most definitely not. To make matters worse, he eventually gave up on hiding his laughter altogether, leaving you red-faced and wondering if he was doing this on purpose. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him all those names…

Fed up with your repeated failures, you stomped over to your thomas, your ankle’s protests falling on deaf ears. Mustering all your strength, you hooked your foot and swung over the saddle quickly. For a second, you thought you had it, but Vash was moving toward you before you even realized it was a failed attempt. The thomas, thoroughly irritated with your poor riding skills, shook its entire body to the left, sending you reeling to the ground on your bad leg.

Vash was underneath you before you could blink, cushioning your fall. You sat atop his lap for more than a few seconds, utterly dumbfounded. It all happened so fast.

“Am I comfy?” He teased with a smile, looking up at you with his chin resting on your shoulder.

Face burning hotter than the planet’s two suns combined, you scrambled out of his lap. But before you could walk away from him, he reached from behind to pick you up by the hips, and plopped you down on the other thomas.

“There, now grab onto the reigns,” he instructed, guiding your hands. “Yeah, like that. You’ve got it.”

Mortified and tongue twisted, you barely managed to mumble a thankyou as you watched him walk over to your thomas. He smoothed the ruffled feathers on its neck, and walked it around for a few minutes on the lead. Then, deciding it had calmed down enough, he hopped on as easily as he had on the other thomas.

“Behold, the thomas-whisperer.” You laughed, half annoyed, but half in awe at his talent with animals.

“The what?” He asked. You shook your head.

“It was this thing where – ah, never mind, not important.” You shrugged.

“Well, anyway, don’t feel too bad. This guy’s just got a bit of an attitude. You can tell by the way it stares when you approach it.” He explained, adjusting the reigns.

“Wait a minute… You can tell just by how it looks at you?” You narrowed your eyes. “So then…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” said Vash, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “After the last few days I’ve had, I… uhhh… kind of needed a good laugh.”

“You motherfu –,”

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you, (Y/N)?” He begged, giving you the most dictionary-definition puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen in your life. You gulped, suddenly lost for words. This man was dangerous…

With a content smile on his face, he showed you how to command your thomas, and you both set off for the ship. It was a long way there, but the thomases were a godsend. The distance you felt would have taken you several days to traverse took just under three. You may have gotten there faster had it not been for a long series of earthquakes that unsettled your thomases, forcing you to take a break. Regardless, before you knew it, you were approaching a reasonably familiar area. This was your best guess at where the ship was buried, but with all the sand dunes looking practically identical, it was hard to tell where it was exactly.

“I did warn you that it would be hard to find,” you huffed after a few hours of circling the area. You were so sure that these sand dunes had to be the ones, but now, doubt was setting in.

“Well, it’s not like I expected it to be easy,” he shrugged, holding his hand to his forehead while looking down from the top of one of the dunes. “If it was, you’d think that this ship would have been raided long ago.”

“I don’t mean to stray off topic here, but if you have to shield your eyes from the sun anyway, just what the hell is the point of those shades?” You asked, the exasperation from your fruitless search causing your tone to come across more harshly than you’d intended. Vash turned to look at you, eyes widened slightly.

“I – I mean, they look good, don’t get me wrong!” You back-peddled as fast as you could, laughing nervously and letting go of the reigns to put your hands defensively in the air. The way the slightest change in his expression could make a person’s heart break was outrageous. “I just mean, you could probably use something a little more practical, you know? I know I could.”

Vash trained his eyes shyly on the sand below, tracing the rim of his sunglasses with his fingers. “I guess… I just like them? They make me feel comfortable, you know?”

“Ah,” you nodded, not really listening, focused more on your sudden guilt. What was wrong with you? “So, they… do block the sunlight, then?”

“A little, yes, but that’s not what I meant. More like… ah, never mind. It's silly.” He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry, I think I –,” you started, hands still in the air, but your thomas suddenly jerked forward, startled by a swarm of small, flying worms approaching. You had no time to hold on as it launched you down the sand dune, and you rolled all the way to the base. You lifted your head from the sand, shaking to get it out of your ears.

“(Y/N), get out of there!” Vash called, dismounting from his thomas and quickly heading over. You looked around to realize that you were sinking. You stood up fully, taking a step, but soon realized that your left leg was stuck in the sand, and you were quickly losing whatever footing you had. The pulling motion from the sand caused you to fall over again, leaving you clawing at your surroundings in an attempt to slow your descent.

Vash finally closed the distance and reached out for your hand, but he fell short just as your body disappeared completely. Panicked, Vash dove into the sand himself, digging around, trying to find anything of yours to grab onto. After a few seconds, he finally managed to get a grip on your pant leg, but as he hauled you up, he sank himself further. Vash scanned the area frantically, but found nothing to grab onto. Instead, he whistled to his thomas. The creature walked over to him, and he yanked on the lead. Furious, the thomas planted its feet firmly and tugged back, pulling both of you out of the sand in the process.

Coughing, you stood up from the ground, trying to regain your breath. “It’s here,” you wheezed “It’s buried under the sand.”

“How do you know?” Asked Vash, attempting to make peace with his angry thomas.

“I touched something hard down there. I stopped sinking at one point, and I felt like rock or metal or something,” you said, stopping to shake the sand out from places you never thought you’d have to shake it out of.

Vash squinted his eyes toward the rest of the sand dunes below, a worried look on his face. “You know, come to think of it, these sand dunes look different than I’ve seen in other places. They kind of resemble the terrain that sandsteamers cross.”

“Sandsteamers?”

“Giant ships that sail through the sand, basically,” he answered, looking around the area behind you, where the swarm of worms that had passed by not too long ago.

“Hmmm… yeah, I can’t picture it,” you admitted, scratching your head, wondering how a machine like that was even possible.

“And wherever there are those smaller worms in the daytime, there’s usually a…” he trailed off, deep in thought. “(Y/N), are you sure that what you touched was metal?”

“Either that, or rock. I mean, what else could it be?”

“There’s just one thing I need to rule out before we commit, but if I’m right, it might not be good news for us,” he said, hopping back on his thomas. “Quick, lets follow that swarm. But if I say run at any point, you run, okay?”

“But what about the metal?” You protested, mounting your thomas hesitantly. “What if the ship really is here, and we can’t find our way back?”

“We can find our way back if we need to,” he insisted. “Just trust me on this one, okay?”

With that, you both followed the swarm of flying worms for a while until you reached hard ground. The worms disappeared into smaller pockets of sand below.

“Yeah… I thought as much,” he muttered, and hopped off the thomas to touch his hand to the floor. It had discolored yet repeating markings all over it, along with several scuffs. You could have sworn you’d seen that subtle pattern before somewhere else. “(Y/N), what exactly did the ground beneath the ship look like?”

“It was mostly sand, really, but I suppose the spots where the metal dug into the ground did look a little like that.” You answered, staring at him curiously. “That… Is some strange looking rock.”

“That’s because what we are standing on is not rock at all,” he said, chewing his lip. “It’s a grand worm.”

“I’m sorry, a grand what?” You choked. “Grand and worm are two words I never want to hear in the same sentence. Ever!”

“Don’t panic. It’s not quite as bad as I thought,” he reassured you, continuing to brush his hands over different spots, and sweeping the sand away in certain areas. “I think this is a very old one. Ancient, probably only moves on occasion. Super lethargic. So, we aren’t in any real danger.”

Vash mounted his thomas once again, looking pensive. “Unfortunately, this also means that the ship might be even harder to find that we’d bargained for.”

“Seriously? Why is that?” You asked.

“Because I think the worm moved before we got here. And I’m starting to think the ship is lodged into one of its plates.”

You groaned, smacking your hand to your forehead. “Damn it… how the hell are we supposed to find it now?”

“If we are seeing its plates above the surface still, then that means the ship should be close enough to the surface for us to find it.” He scratched his head, looking around. “I think our best bet is to find pieces of upturned plates.”

“Well… the thing I touched was pretty level, so I guess that wasn’t it.” You squeezed your eyes shut and massaged your scalp, attempting to soothe your growing headache. “Ugh, we’re going to be here forever…”

“Really, you should count yourself lucky!” Vash pointed out with a smile on his face. “If this big guy hadn’t kept the ship moving around all those years, your ship might have been raided, and your pod could have been destroyed.”

“Oh. No. The horror.” You replied, rolling your eyes.

“You might not be happy you’re here, but for what it’s worth, I sure am,” he said, eyes softening in your direction. “And I’m sure Marlene and George would agree.”

You stared at him blankly for a few seconds, not sure what to say. What could you say? If you had a drop of water for every time someone told you something like this, you’d no longer be on a desert planet. Instead, you chose to say nothing, and shrugged the comment off, hoping he would drop it.

You and Vash began scouting the area with new search criteria in mind, but the atmosphere felt far heavier than it had before. You wanted to suggest splitting up to look for the ship, but you knew he’d never let you out of his sight. Especially not after your last interaction. You could feel the crushing weight of his gaze on your back as you ventured slightly ahead of him to avoid any more conversation. You just had to hold out until the supplies were dropped off in town. Then, you’d give him the slip for good.

“(Y/N),” called Vash from behind.

You ignored him and kept moving.

“(Y/N),” he called out again, louder this time. You bit your lip and turned around. Vash was pointing to a seemingly random sand dune nearby. You gave him a puzzled look, but followed him as he set off. When you came to a stop, you saw it: jagged-looking rocks protruding from the sand, all with the same pattern as the worm.

“I’m guessing this is close to where the ship is lodged, judging by the broken plate pieces sticking up,” you observed, crouching down to take a better look. Vash nodded, getting to work on digging the sand away. Slowly, the two of you revealed small parts of the ship underneath until you came across a slightly broken panel.

“Well, we’ve found our entrance,” he grunted, squeezing his hands in between the pieces. You scoffed and continued to dig, looking for a more viable option.

Suddenly, a horrible scraping sound rang loudly into the empty desert. Startled, you whipped around to see him rip the panel apart, and right off its bolts. The fingers on his prosthetic arm left deep indentations on the metal. You stared, a sense of dread washing over you. You were stuck here. You were stuck for as long as he wanted to keep you here. That much was certain.

You had a sneaking suspicion that escaping him would be borderline impossible, but seeing this monster in action really sealed the deal. You were only half joking when you said you could take him on before. Despite the impressive things you’d seen him do up to that point, you still had some hope that, if push came to shove, you could fight him off and go your own way. But now, all you could do was stare in horror at the torn-up sheet of thick metal, on what was supposed to be a space-faring craft.

“Now, (Y/N), if you’d do the honors –,” he started, with a triumphant grin on his face, but stopped upon noticing your petrified expression. “Wait – what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” You shouted, much louder than you had intended, and turned around quickly to dig through your thomas’s saddle bags. You hastily pulled out your canteen and pretended to take a drink, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking. Tears were welling up in your eyes. You blinked them away as fast as you could and donned your best smile before turning back around. “I’m just… wow… impressed! That was impressive!”

Vash’s eyes lingered on the way your hands were gripping the canteen with strained knuckles. “Oh, thanks!” He replied, his overly cheery tone betrayed by the subtle frown on his face.

With slumped shoulders, Vash walked over to his thomas and pulled several empty bags to shove into his coat. He tossed a few in your direction and beckoned you to the entrance. With shaky steps, you followed in after him.

[illness]

After a rough year of health, my grandpa departed from this plane about 28 hours ago. I’m treating myself kindly, but my heart has a noticeable absence inside.

He was a guy who always, always did everything for everyone – if you need your deck restained? Done. Need a new shower? Give him like a week and it’s there. Want a new window? Yeah dude he had it done in a day or two. Like. A tree fell through this man’s ceiling and he had it tidied up, with assistance, in a week. When my mom needed a ramp for her wheelchair in her final months, he had it made in a few days. He got shit done, always with others in mind.

He was also secretive with a lot of things; we knew he was declining over the past year just by looking at him, his tremors, a noticeable decrease in blood flow. But he was still doing jobs and painting houses. He was just that kind of guy and I respected it heavily. I envy it still. Everything he labored was with love and care that you could not find from anyone else. He amazed me.

He was preceded in death by the love of his life, we’ll call him Dean. I never met Dean – he passed a little before the turn of the century, so I only know him in stories. They helped raise my mother together – her mom wasn’t in the picture for much of her adolescence, but those two were. My mom only ever spoke in adoration of them. Things weren’t stable and they moved a lot, but they had love – and they always had her. I knew he did experience a few hate crimes, around the 60s or 70s, which breaks my heart. I never brought up his sexuality with him – mainly because it wasn’t my business, and I felt no need to prod at him about this open familial secret – but I wish he could have lived in the time that I do right now. Even with all its trials and tribulations. Despite all that… he had many admirers. Male and female. A real ladykiller. That did come with some stalking… he had a man who was highly interested in him try to sneak in through the dog door in his house. 🫣 even still, I can see where they’re coming from… he was a stud!

Speaking on my mother, my grandpa would move mountains for her. When we would go on our little beach excursion every year, he would go to our house and always fix something up or add some new fixture. I remember him totally redoing our kitchen, our bathroom, our dingy little porch in the back… we would be gone for a week max, so he would check on our animals and workshop. He still did this even in a damn recession. No cost, no questions, just love.

And the animals he had! He grew up on a farm with a slew of sisters and a few brothers, and he just always had something. He had these gorgeous salukis with my mom when she was growing up, and once he got his own house, he would always have his own dog and a crowd of stray cats that he would inevitably befriend. He even rescued a baby squirrel and raised it before trying to send it back into the wild – I think it stuck around in his backyard for the most part, still visiting him and climbing on his his shoulders. The animal who held his heart the most was Sam, a golden retriever my mom picked out herself and gifted him. He lived to about 8 or 9, but that was his soul animal.

Following Dean, the other loss that changed him was my mom. It’s almost been half a decade since she left, and I knew that broke him. His only daughter gone before 50 – what do you do? I don’t know. But he still kept my sister and I in mind, always, making sure we were set. He left us a house – the same house we all grew up in, with decades of work inside. All for my sibling and I to live comfortably. A house with the most beautiful backyard full of elephant ears, hydrangeas, tulips, pea pods. A backyard that I spent hours running around in, with a shed that’s got tools for days and a fully working kitchen. Somehow.

I don’t know where I’m really going with this. The fact that he spent so many of his final years making sure our family would be okay, to set up this level of comfort for us – I have been musing over it constantly these past few days.

Something I loved about him was how comfortable with silence he was. I would walk with him and his dog in the neighborhood as a child, rattling off sentences constantly, and he just nodded and listened. As I got older, I became quieter for a multitude of reasons. I remember just sitting in the yard while he did his work, never feeling pressure to talk – we didn’t need to. Taking in nature instead of forcing small talk. I never thought that I would miss not saying anything with him, because there’s so much I wish I could have asked him, even still. Though I regret not opening up more, I still look upon the quiet fondly. He appreciated it, and I appreciated him for it.

I’m going to miss him a lot. Understatement. Getting older has been very hard on me and I’m not even at a quarter of a century yet, lol. My heart is sore but I am eternally grateful for what he’s taught me and what he has left for our family to continue on with.

I will close this jumble of words with my favorite story about him. One day, circa early 70s, my grandpa calls out of work and tells his boss he’s sick. Really, he just wanted to take his daughter to the park with her mother/his spouse at the time. Conveniently, someone with the local paper is there and snaps a quick pic of the group after a brief chat.

The next day, he’s reading the paper, checking the weather for the week… and then he sees it:

I don’t know if his boss found out or if there were repercussions, but it’s still my favorite thing to recount. It’s just such a thing he would absolutely do. I love it.

No amount of words could properly sum up who he was, truthfully. He was one in a trillion, and I am grateful that I had the honor of being part of his time on Earth. I had a less-than-stellar childhood and upbringing at times, but he was always a safe space for me. It’s a high honor to be a man in my life with little flaw – he is one of the few I can bestow that upon. I can’t exaggerate just how much of a beacon of light he was in our lives.

I’m grateful that I was able to hold his hand as he transitioned, becoming free of the ailments that tried to rescind his independence. I will never know what waits for us after life, but I’d like to think that he is in some sort of heaven – adding a fresh coat of paint onto the pearly gates, dozens of animals and people eagerly awaiting his arrival. I know he’s back with the loves of his life, the ones he longed for from the moment they departed; his daughter, his Dean, and his Sam-bone. How beautiful and deserved that is for him, my Papa, to be free of decades-long grief. ❤️

[db-gochifan]

Childhood Memories

Characters: Son Goku, Chi-Chi, Son Gohan, Son Goten, Shallot, Giblet, Vegeta, Tarble and Bulma Briefs. Pairings: Vegeta/Bulma and minor Goku/Chi-Chi Summary: Goku and Vegeta remember their old days on Planet Vegeta. PS: This story can be considered a "sequel" to Remembrances, as we're gonna dig into the stories Vegeta told his and Goku's children on it. You can read it here.

Cross-posted on AO3.

Goku found himself staring at the dark blue sky again that night. He was completely exhausted from the tag game he had just played with his beautiful and his two amazing sons. They were all lying next to him, and in a similar physical condition as him.

“Daddy, I have a question.” Goten leaned on his elbow and looked at his father with curiosity.

“Okay, what kind of question?”

“We’ve seen Uncle Vegeta’s memories earlier today, but what about yours?”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.” Chi-Chi echoed his their son’s thoughts and her eyes met her husband’s. “You’ve been here for many years already, but you must remember something about your days on Planet Vegeta.”

“I guess I do.” He shrugged, placing his hands behind his head and staring up at the starry sky.

“Which memories?” His youngest son now had the same curiosity in the tone of his voice. I want to hear it.”

“Oh, you want to hear it?” Goku sat up and placed Goten on his lap.

“Yes!”

“Alright.” He shoved his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a rather wrinkled picture and looked down at it, a gesture that was mirrored by his family.

“Where did you get this photo?” Chi-Chi asked with her eyebrows raised behind him.

“Vegeta gave me earlier today.”

“When?”

“Daddy, the story.” Goten said, a little impatient.

“Right.” Goku rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly for a moment. “Okay, so… it all started when…”

***

Kakarot looked through the window with a huge grin on his lips as his spaceship got closer to his home planet. He couldn’t even begin to say how much he had missed his parents and his older brother all these months he was away on a mission on a distant planet, and couldn’t wait to see them again.

He jumped out of his small ship and stretched both of his arms and legs and then his whole body. He hated the fact that spaceships were always so small because he couldn’t move much. The child shook his head and looked around. He was definitely not far from his house and could almost smell his mother’s amazing food.

However, as he was making his way to his house, he came across two children, who were carbon copies of each other, playing with a big wild animal. Kakarot thought for a few minutes. As hungry as he was, he also missed playing with the animals from Planet Vegeta. He also had no idea who these two children were, and his friendly and curious nature won in the end.

“Hi!” He said in his usual cheerful tone. “I’m Kakarot. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.”

“That’s because we spend most of our time away. We were able to find this small time to spare and relax before leaving again. I’m Shallot by the way, and this is my twin brother Giblet.”

“Hello! Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Kakarot’s stomach growled and he laughed with embarrassment. “Well, I should go home. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Sure.” Shallot looked at his fellow Saiyan run away and turned to his brother. “He seems nice.”

“He seems so. He’s pretty strong too, though he’s very young.”

“Yeah.” He watched his twin brother throw some punches in the air and quickly stood up to fight with him.

.

“Come on, Raditz!” Five-year old Kakarot jumped onto his bed and started shaking him. “Wake up, let’s fight!”

“Kakarot, I want to sleep.” Raditz threw his blanket over his head and tried to throw his brother off his bed.

“Nooo!” He jumped on it again, refusing to give up. “You can sleep another time. Come on!”

“Must you be so annoying!” The older child mumbled and decided to get up. “I’m tired from my last mission.”

“So am I.” He grinned as wide as he could. “Yet you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“You’re always so cheerful about everything.”

“You’re always so grumpy about everything.”

“Shut up.” His eyes widened when he felt his younger brother punching his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m warming up for our fight.”

“Oh God, help me.”

.

Little Prince Vegeta sighed with frustration. He absolutely loved fighting, but those Saibamen were so weak he couldn’t find it fun anymore. All he wanted was a strong opponent to fight and defeat. Not too far from him, his younger brother was playing with a red baby dragon. He frowned, not being able to understand what was so great in it.

“Vegeta, come play with us. It’s fun.”

“Battles is fun.” He said with annoyance. “How can you waste so much time with something so stupid?”

“It’s not stupid.” Tarble cried. “You’re mean.”

“This is true. And yes, it is. Fighting is much cooler.”

“It’s not the only cool thing in the world.”

“Whatever.”

“Your Highness, Your Majesty is asking for you.” One of the soldiers came running towards the two princes. “He said he has a task to do and wants to take you with him.”

“Alright.” Vegeta fixed his white gloves and began to head inside the castle. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

“Actually, he’s requesting both of you.”

“What?” He looked towards his brother. “Tarble too?”

“That’s right.”

.

“Here is a good place.” Kakarot grinned as he looked around a large green field. “What do you think, Raditz? Raditz?”

“Kakarot, come here.”

“What are you doing?” He ran to where his brother was sitting down.

“I found two beetles and I’m making them fight.”

“Oh cool!” The younger brother said with excitement, but he was focused on something else. “I wonder where they are.”

“Who?”

“The two Saiyans I met a few days ago, when I came back.”

“What Saiyans? You didn’t say anything about them.”

“I guess I forgot. Let’s find them.”

“Kakarot, I’m busy here.” Raditz said with annoyance. “Besides, it’ll be difficult to find them. There are a lot of people in this planet.”

“I know, but two people looking for them will be better than one.” Kakarot grabbed him by the arm. “Let’s go, brother.”

“Why is it so important to find them? It’s not like they’re your friends or anything.”

“But they can be.”

“Why do you have this need to be everyone’s friend?”

“It’s better than having a beetle battle.”

“Repeat that if you dare.”

“Making friends is better than having a beetle battle.”

Next thing Kakarot knew, he was lying on the grass. He had to admit Raditz was very fast at throwing punches.

“Ouch.” He mumbled, massaging his left cheek. “That was a strong one.”

“That’s what you get for mocking my beetles.”

The younger Saiyan opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“That’s him! Hey, Shallot!”

“Huh?” The Saiyan raised his eyebrow at the boy grinning and waving his hand frantically at him. “It’s the boy from the other day.”

“Hi!” The younger brunette ran to him. “I was thinking we’d never see each other again.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, we were just about to have a fighting session.” Kakarot looked over his shoulder with a smile, which was quickly replaced by a frown. “Brother, would you stop playing with these beetles for just once?”

“Make me.”

“Your brother sure looks friendly.” Shallot tried to make the mood a little lighter. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Do you live nearby?”

“We do, actually. About five minutes away. What about you?”

“Not exactly. We live on the other side of the planet.”

“And you came all the way here?”

“This is a good place to fight.”

“It is.” Kakarot grinned widely at him. “So do you want to?”

“Fight you?” The six-year old child raised his eyebrow and then grinned back at his new friend. “I’m in. What do you think, Giblet?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Great.” He got in the initial position and waited for them. “I’m ready.”

“You’re gonna fight by yourself?”

“That’s right.” Kakarot said with confidence. “I can take both of you.”

“Uh, brother, do you think it’s a good idea?”

“He seems pretty strong and said he can take it, so…”

“But still, he looks very young. He’s what? Three or four years old?”

“I’m five, actually.” He showed his palm proudly.

“Five?!” The twins said at the same time, completely shocked.

“But you’re so small.”

“Yes, so what?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to be rude.”

“That’s okay. What about you?”

“We’re twins and we’re six years old.”

“Twins? That would explain why you look so alike.”

“I think so.”

“So, are we fighting or what?”

.

Vegeta absolutely hated accompanying his father on what he called the boring part of being a king, which meant talking to the head of the army most of the time. One thing he loved about it, however: seeing the population stop whatever they were doing to watch the king. He couldn’t wait until it was his time to be one. Tarble, on the other hand, was indifferent to the whole thing, as he’d rather do something he enjoys. He covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned with boredom.

“What’s going on over there?” Kakarot asked with his eyebrow raised as he looked over to where the loud noise was coming from.

“That’s King Vegeta!” Raditz ran past him so fast all he could see was his rather long hair floating in the air. He managed to grab his younger brother’s hand on the way. “Let’s go, I wanna see him.”

“Raditz, why do you want to see him so bad?”

“It’s the King, duh! Everyone wants to see him.”

Shallot and Giblet exchanged a look before following the brothers.

Raditz sat on the floor with the two beetles he had gotten in the field and shoved into his pocket during their small running to see the King. King Vegeta had a very serious expression on his face, though some of the inhabitants of the planet cheered and screamed for his name as he walked by. Vegeta wasn’t that different from his father, where as Tarble was finding the whole thing very amusing.

“Look, Vegeta!” He exclaimed as he looked over his shoulder for a brief moment, quickly returning his attention to Kakarot and his small group. “There’s a boy here playing with insects.”

“Like I care. They are inferior to us, so they’re useless.”

“They’re people! How can you be like this?” Tarble snapped and ran to join the small group. “Hi, I’m Tarble.”

“H-Hi.” The eight-year-old Saiyan stuttered nervously as he slowly lifted his gaze up to the younger Prince. He glanced at Kakarot, who simply shrugged. “I’m Raditz.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“N-Nice to meet you too.”

“Can I play with you?” Tarble knelt down in front of him and stared at the two insect on the floor.

King Vegeta simply looked at his youngest son from the corner of his eyes and then subtly motioned for two of his bodyguards to pick him up, and the child started floundering under their grasp. Prince Vegeta simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

.

Vegeta was lying on his utter large bed staring at the ceiling with a frown. He wanted to think about ways to become stronger, but his mind kept wandering to the events from earlier that day. He couldn’t believe how his brother could be such a shame to the Royal Family of Saiyans. How could he talk to low-class warriors like that? With a heavy sigh, he rolled over, and glanced at the dark red wall across him.

***

Vegeta held a photo between his fingers. It was a picture probably one of the old royal bodyguards took it that day, the only one he had with Kakarot as children. He lowered his hand and stared up at the dark blue sky above him.

“Bulla’s grounded.” Bulma announced when she walked out in the balcony, standing beside him; her blue eyes focused on his face.

“Let me guess, she made a scene about it.”

“As always.” She sighed. “But she should learn not to walk in her parents’ room and go through their things.” She looked down at the picture stuck between his fingers; a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?”

Vegeta looked down at her for the first since she joined him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, Bulla unlocked some past memories of yours again today. I’m worried it’s a little too much for you.”

“I’m the Prince of the Saiyans, I’ve dealt with worse things than childhood memories. You know that.”

Bulma bit her lower lip. She knew he had a good point. “I still can’t believe you and Goku met when you were just children. What were the chances?”

“It was all thanks to Tarble.” The Saiyan brought his hand back up and glanced at the photo again.”

“I have something for you.” The woman fumbled in her pocket and took out a small rectangular remote control.

“What is this?” Vegeta looked at her and then at the keychain with a confused expression. “Another invention?”

“You can say that.” She nodded with a grin. “We’re going to visit your brother.”

“What?!”

“I secretly built another spaceship.” She handed him the remote control. “Take it.”

“But, Bulma, how are we going to do that? We don’t even know where he is.”

“You’re forgetting you’re married to one of the greatest scientists in the world. Everything’s figured out.”

“How? I don’t even know where he is.”

“But I do.”

“What?”

“I managed to get in contact with some planets and found him after some frustrating attempts. We’re leaving soon” Bulla reached for his hand and began to pull him towards their bedroom.

“Bulma, wait! When did you build it?”

“You’d know if you didn’t spend all day in the gravity chamber. Come on, I want you to see this. I’m sure you’re gonna love it.”

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

[certifiedskywalker]

Breaking Oaths and Following Orders - Din Djarin

thebounty said: Hey!! I was wondering if I could ask for a request for a Mandalorian x Jedi!reader? It’s inspired by this song (Jenny- Studio Killers) which is basically about friends turned into lovers.

AN: Ah, yes, the TikTok song...I hope I did your idea justice! (I cut the rest of your request out on this official post because I didn’t want to totally spoil what happens!)

You were familiar with the carbon stink of blaster bolts and the excited tension of battle. Limited stints in combat during the Clone Wars, when you were barely old enough to be a padawan, had introduced you to the harsh adrenaline and smells of war. A gunfight in some alley on some Outer Rim world was nothing compared to what you had seen. Though, now, you knew all of what was at stake; you loved all that was at stake.

“I don’t think they’re Jedi,” Din observed as he ducked down behind the thick stone wall you were using as cover. You shot the helmeted man an incredulous look.

“Really? What gave you that idea? The fact they’re not using laser swords or that they’re shooting at us?” Din didn’t respond to your sarcasm and instead popped up above the wall to let a few bolts fly. Based on the yelps of pain, they hit their marks.

“We need to get out of here,” he said once he ducked back down. You nodded and glanced at the Child, still tucked away in his cradle. His big eyes were glued to you, as they often were in the heat of battle. Expectant, waiting for you to make your, the, move.

“Yeah, we do,” you agreed, before you pressed the button on the Child’s cradle that closed the little creature within. The last thing you wanted was more pressure. 

“They have us pinned,” Din said and tipped his head back towards the wall behind you. “And there’s at least five,” the Mandalorian popped up from behind the wall again and nearly missed a blaster bolt to the head, “six up front.”

“Can’t you jet us out of here?”

Wordlessly, Din reached around to his back and rapped his gloved knuckles against the fuel tank of his jet pack. An empty, metallic clang echoed the knocking of his hand. No fuel. 

“Karabast,” you cursed as you turned your attention to the enemies firing luring shots at the relative safety of the wall. There were too many. A step beyond the stone would mean certain death. So did staying put. Direness set in, loomed like a storm cloud in your mind. You glanced back at Din and the Child’s cradle only to have a lump form in your throat. 

As if on cue, the cradle covers opened and revealed the watchful eyes of the Child. He was still focused on you. As you took a moment to study him in return, you neither heard a coo of worry nor did you see flinch of fear. He was calm, eerily so; as if he knew what you were thinking, what you knew you had to do. You moved your gaze to Din and watched as he let a few shots go towards your attackers. A stray blaster bolt from the enemy knocked against the beskar plate on his chest, right above his heart. Too close to where his armor ended and his clothing began. Too close for comfort. You couldn't lose him. 

Adrenaline, pure and vile rushed through you. Before you could move against your instincts, your hand reached out and pulled Din back down behind the stone wall. The dark visor of his helmet met your gaze. You could feel the question on his lips, despite having never seen them. You had spent enough time imagining them; how they looked and how they might feel against your own.

“Grab the kid and run on my word,” you said with a tone of seriousness to break yourself from your wonderings. “Got it?”

Din was still for a moment and you realized that your hand lingered on his arm. Warmth spread through your fingers, up your arm, and to your face. Quickly, you let go, and the Mandalorian seemed to have recovered. He nodded wordlessly and reached out towards the cradle. When the pod was tucked under his arm, you moved to face the stone wall you all were hidden behind. 

“What are you planning, Y/N?” 

Din’s tone was cold, laced with concern. After all the cycles you and the man had worked and lived together, you had noticed he only said your name when you were about to do something dangerous. You had wished he said it more, in different contexts, like one of affection. Though, you had reasoned long ago that Din’s concern was his affection. Like the Jedi, it seemed that Mandalorian of Din’s Creed forewent too-personal, entangling attachments. It was the first principle of the Code that you had wished you had broken long ago. In a sense, you had. The care you held, the love, for Din and the Child...you were a Jedi no longer.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pretend.

“You can ask me questions later.”

Before Din could attempt to stop you, you reached down to each of your hips and pulled the two metal, somewhat cylindrical pieces of your lightsaber from your belt. In a practiced motion, you latched the two segments together and pressed the ignite switch. As soon as the blade ignited, you focused your mind on the small, stone wall that sheltered you. Once you pictured it clear in your mind, you threw your hands up and pushed forward. When you opened your eyes, the stone wall hurtled towards your attackers and drove some down into the dirt. You glanced at Din.

“Now!”

At your word, Din rushed towards the now dwindling group of criminals that had been shooting at you. Due to the laser sword in your hands, most of their fire was focused on you. With an ease that surprised you, you twirled your saber in the air and deflected the shots. Most landed in the chests of those had taken aim, giving each a swift death. You gave an extra flourish to redirect a blaster bolt towards one of the attackers that was more interested in Din and cradle.

The man fell quickly and a surge of confidence rushed through you. You still had it, even after all this time of hiding! Only a few criminals remained and you drew closer and closer. As you moved, their aim grew more and more precise. One even dared to charge at you. With you busied dispatching him, another shot off his rifle. White-hot and searing hurt ripped through your lower leg, then your shoulder. A yelp of pain escaped your lips. Overcome by heated rage and long ago lessons forgotten, you tilted forward and struck him down.

Then there was silence. Only your haggard breath filled your ears. The pain in your leg and shoulder overwhelmed your senses. It had been a long time since you had taken a hit. An even longer time since you had used the weapon of your dead Master.

You fell to your knees, tried to focus on forcing your breathing steady. When you hit the ground, your thumb instinctively struck the power switch. With a hiss, the blade closed and you found enough strength to lift your gaze. Your eyes locked with Din’s darkened visor.

“Y/N.”

There was that concern again. It was the last thing you heard before you fell back, let your body rest against the dirt of the alleyway and splatters of blood.

You woke with a start. The wild beating of your heart propelled you, so you sat up straight in the sleeping nook. Your head nearly slammed against the ceiling. When you recognized the interior of the Razor Crest, you allowed yourself to catch your breath.

“Hey, hey, hey” Din appeared in the entrance of the sleeping nook with his hands raised towards you. He looked as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “You’re safe. You’re home.”

You nodded but your head did not clear. On your skin still clung the stink of the alley, the carbon of blaster fire, and, against your hand, you felt the cold hilt of the lightsaber. The moment your eyes landed on the weapon, you felt your breath get caught in your throat once more. Memories of the fight rushed back and your heart still thundered in your chest. You focused on Din’s helmet, studied his now straightened posture, and swallowed hard.

“The Child, is he-”

“He’s fine,” Din replied before the question could leave your lips. You shook your head.

“No, did he see...did he see me?”

“It was hard not to see you,” Din said softly.  

Tension filled the silence that trailed after his words. It was heavier than the pressure of battle. Din always had a way of making it difficult for you to breath. But this was like trying to wade through the muck of a full trash compactor. The air between you was thick, weighed down by everything you both wanted to say to the other.

You shifted in the sleeping nook in an effort to find a more comfortable position. As you moved, your shoulder knocked against the wall and you hissed in pain. Din lurched forwards and towards you. You felt heated skin against your arms and, when you looked down, you found that he had not donned his signature gloves.

“Here. I’ll help you step out.”

Din was careful as he eased you out of the sleeping nook while you tired not to be lost in tender touch of his bare hands against your skin. A wave of affection washed over you when you noted the bandages on your lower leg and shoulder. He had taken his gloves off to take care of you. You wished you could have been conscious to remember it.

“Thanks,” you said once you were on your feet.

Though, Din didn’t let go. Instead, he helped you over to the crates you both used as makeshift seats during meal time. Only when you were both sat down did his hands slip from your arms. The silence seemed to have followed you both over as it settles back between you. 

Your mind swirled with worry and doubt, every word you wanted to say. Betrayal was the word that came back most often. You had betrayed the year of trust you had built with Din by not telling him about your past. You had betrayed the Child by not using the Force to forge a deeper connection with him or hear his story. You had betrayed yourself, the oath you swore long ago to never use the teachings of the Jedi. The thought made your stomach twist.

“Is it yours?”

Din’s question broke you from your down spiral. You met the dark gaze of his visor and shook your head. “No. It’s my old Master’s. I lost mine in battle and took his when he…fell.”

“Master? So, you’re a Jedi?”

“No, I never finished the Tri-”

“You can’t do that.” You cocked your head at his interruption. “You can’t keep saying ‘no’ and then give a reason that implies ‘yes’. Are you or are you not a Jedi?”

You swallowed hard, the truth, as Din knew it, balanced on the tip of your tongue. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” There was an edge of anger in his voice but as heated as you had expected. “Why didn’t you tell me when we were sent to look for Jedi, for him?”

“Like I was saying, I didn’t finished my training or the Trials. I don’t know the mysteries the Council kept hidden or where any others are.” Din stood up at your reasoning and stared down at you. Even masked behind the helmet, you still felt the intensity of his eyes on you. 

“You should have told me.” He said, the heat a little higher in his voice. “Do you not trust me enough to keep you safe?”

Stoked by the flames of his voice, you stood from your seat. Din’s visor remained trained on you, waiting for your next move. There was only a step’s worth of space between you now and it was either the close proximity or the pain of your wounds that made your face flush. You weren’t entirely sure as to which but you did know your own truth.

“No, I trust you, Din, with my life,” his name left your lips without a thought. Between thoughts, you realized it was the first time you said his name aloud after learning on Nevarro; but you couldn’t stop now. “The Jedi’s way is old, just as old as the Mandalore, and we have our customs. Following orders is one of them and I was given an order to stay quiet, to stay hidden. I will not apologize for following that order, even if I am a Jedi no longer.”

All of the sudden, the fight and anger left you. You thought of your Master, how he would be disappointed in your outburst. Overwhelmed by the feeling, you sat back down on your crate while Din stayed standing. Heavy, you head fell into your hands. In the dark behind your eyelids, you found little solace or comfort.

Just as you were about to admit defeat and retire back to the sleeping nook, hands gripped your wrists. Gently, Din pulled your hands away from your face and, in response, you looked into his visor. For a moment, you swore that you could see his eyes shining beneath his helmet, his own order and oath manifested in beskar. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands fell from your wrists and tucked up under the bottom of his helmet.

“Din,” you said, the same concern that swaddled your name in his voice now held his own. “Don’t do this, not like this.”

“I trust you, Y/N, with my life.” His words echoed your own only softer and you were too caught off guard by that tenderness to try to stop his hands as they pushed up. 

You saw the first slivers of tanned skin. Then a scruff covered chin and slope of his jawline. Lips were next on the tour of Din’s features; the very lips you had tried to imagine hundreds of times before. They were pinker than you thought, a little chapped too, but you still longed for them. Then the tip and bridge of his curved nose. A pair of dark brown eyes.

You held Din’s eyes with yours as he finished removing the helmet. He set it on the floor of the Razor Crest with a dull thud, his eyes never leaving yours. Strands of brown hair were set against his forehead, tantalizing enough for you to touch. You fought the urge so you could take in his features a little longer. Despite knowing, based on his voice, that Din was handsome, it was another thing to see it confirmed. 

Unable to hold back anymore, you reached a careful hand out. Din recoiled, flinched away from your reach and you pulled back. Just as you were about to apologize, Din recovered and lifted his own hand. Warm, he guided your hand with his until your fingertips brushed against his temple. When he let go of your wrist, you brushed the hair off from his forehead.

At your touch, Din sucked in a shakey, sharp breath. Scared for a moment that he wouldn’t exhale, you traced your hand down from his forehead to the side of his face. Once you had cupped his cheek, Din closed his eyes and let the breath go. His head tilted, leaned into your touch.

“We’re both oath breakers now, huh?”

Din’s eyes opened at your question. Dark and knowing, his eyes met yours before they flickered down to your lips. You trailed your hand along his jaw until you held his chin between two of your fingers. His breath hitched at the suggestive touch.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” you murmured, the pain of your wounds long forgotten. “Din?”

Wordlessly, from where he kneeled before, Din rushed up and towards you. Messily, his lips found yours and his hands gripped at your waist. Quickly, he pulled you against his chest where the cold kiss of beskar greeted your skin. Not that you minded. You were too caught up in Din’s lips against yours, how you had waited a year for this. You weren’t about to let that go.

Not for any order.

[bokettochild]

Hmmm if you need ideas I always love cultural difference shenanigans so maybe Twilight and Hyrule or Warriors and Hyrule having jarringly different cultures?

I didn't really touch on cultures much, since I'm still learning a lot about the games in general, but here's three boys discussing the educational systems of their respective provinces!

(Asks are open still, if anyone wants a story, feel free to request it! I will try my best! (Crossovers aren't off the table, but I can't promise I'll write them))

From Ordon to Catalia

“So, you’re telling me,” Warriors states disbelievingly. “That you, the Hero of Hyrule, couldn’t even speak Hylian until mere months before you saved the kingdom?”

The traveler nods, a faint flush dusting over his browned cheeks at Warriors’ question.

Twilight shakes his head, a smile on his face. “Who’da thunk it? Chin up traveler, I didn’t even live in Hyrule when I saved it.”

“What?” Warriors turns to him, royal blue flickering with disbelief as he stares from one country hero to the other. “Seriously? Both of you?”

“Well,” Hyrule tugs at one of his curls, eyes glistening with mischief as he speaks. “I mean, Legend saved like, four other countries, and he wasn’t from any of them.”

“But the first country he saved was Hyrule.” Warriors asserts. “And at least he was sent to the other places or something, unlike you two.” The captain stares from one to the other. “Traveling through the kingdom and just happening to run into the Royal Nursemaid?” He turns to Twilight, disbelief still written clear on his face. “And chasing monsters, if I recall correctly. What the heck, guys?”

He can’t help but take a bit of pity on Warriors, the captain has only ever been outside of his Hyrule’s main areas when time traveling, and the poor man clearly has little to no familiarity with the provinces and kingdoms beyond his own home, save for whatever rich and stuffy nobles talk about when royalty from the other kingdoms comes to visit. But even so, Wars lacks the faintest clue of the world outside of Hyrule’s borders, and that's just a little bit sad.

He leans back on the bed that he and Hyrule are sharing, it’s been a few weeks since they were last at an inn and he fully intends on enjoying the plush beds while they can, even if it is a bit too soft for his own comfort. “We could tell you more about them, if you like?”

At his side, Hyrule nods, smile bright if not a bit wistful. “I’m always willing to share about my home.”

Warriors hesitates, caught between disbelief and curiosity.

“I don’t think even Legend has been to Catalia.” Hyrule muses, but Twilight sees the sparkle in Hyrule’s eyes, he’s tempting the captain in a way the both of them know is sure to work.

“That so?” Warriors muses. “Well, I suppose so. Although,” He turns a cynical eye to Twilight. “I’m not sure how much I actually want to know about farm life.”

“Your loss, city boy.” He scoffs in response, a wolfish smile pulling at his features.

It’s nice, he thinks as he leans back further, letting Hyrule pull his thoughts together and Warriors shake off the surprise of their previous words, to just sit and talk with his brothers. Time and Legend have roomed with Wild so he doesn’t have to worry about the Cub making trouble without him there to watch him, and for the first time in a long tie he can just sit down and talk with his other brothers. He doesn’t know why Time let Four assign rooms like this, but he isn’t complaining if the others aren’t.

“Well, what would you like to hear about?”

Warriors frowns, staring at Hyrule for a moment as the Traveler flushes darker under his curls. Maybe the healer wasn’t as ready to talk as he first thought. “How about, your family, what sort of people are they?”

Hyrule stares at the captain disbelievingly for a moment. “You’ve met my mom, remember? And I don’t really remember much of my dad, he went missing when I was a kid.”

“Oh,” Warriors flushes, a strained smile taking over his features. “Right.”

Hyrule giggles softly. “I’m not mad, Cap, just surprised that you forgot. Although to be fair, not many people probably think about it since I look like a Hylian.”

“Yeah, about that, how does that work?”

“Hylian father, I look more like him in this form. We may be from Catalia, but he was there entirely because he was fleeing the destruction of Hyrule. He met my mom in the Aver Forests, where she’d been wandering for the last few years. Great fairies can leave their pools if they so choose, but they do so rarely. Unfortunately, mom had too because of the increase of monsters in Hyrule.”

“What is the Aver Forest?”

“The biggest, lushest forest in all of Catalia!” Hyrule spread his arms wide as if to indicate how big it truly was. “I’m pretty sure it’s just the other side of the lost woods in my time, since it’s so close to the border. It nothing like Hyrule, but it is, was, home.”

“So, did yer ma follow you to Hyrule?”

“Not exactly.” The traveler replies with a small frown. “She came after Hyrule was made safer again. I can’t exactly leave the country freely anymore, so she came to see me. It’s a good thing too, since getting potions is far more difficult than just bathing in her pool.”

“Are potions really that expensive in your time?” Warriors asks, concern flecking his gentle gaze.

“It’s not about the price,” Hyrule frowns. “It’s more that most people don’t know how to brew them, and finding a person who can is difficult.”

“Ah, supply and demand.”

“Pardon, what?” The traveler looks up to the captain in confusion.

“Supply and demand, you know,” Wars states like it’s common knowledge. “When lots of people want something but only a few people can provide it? It’s the reason shops can get away with charging so much for things.”

Both country heroes stare at him.

“Have neither of you ever heard of it?” The captain blinks at them, leaning forwards on his bed. “How is that possible?”

“Not all provinces have a school, Wars.” He replies, chuckling softly at the surprise on Warriors’ face. “For farming communities we focus on animals and plants, don’t need no fancy education to plow a field.”

Hyrule stares between the two of them. “Alright, this might be a Hylian word I haven’t learned yet, but what is a scewl?”

“A what?” Warriors echoes, turning to face the traveler.

“A scewl?”

“A school?” Twilight translates, brow furrowed until the Hero of Hyrule nods in confirmation, after which he relaxes again. “It's a place people go to learn to read and write, and to count and do equations.”

“And here I thought there weren’t any in Ordon?” Warriors teases lightly.

“Get off it, Cap’. We don’t have schools, but we do have books, I know how to read and if I can learn more than I will.”

“Ah, self-taught?”

“Mostly.” He shrugs. “Hylian’s real different from Ordon-Standard, even if they’re essentially the same.”

“That makes no sense.” The captain deadpans, staring at him blankly.

“I mean, even though they have a lot in common, the way people speak and pronounce things, the vernacular and what not, is quite different that Hyrule proper.”

Hyrule blinks at the two of them owlishly. “What are equations?”

A glance is shared between them. “Math.” Warriors answers. “You know, adding, subtraction, multiplication and division?”

The traveler raises a brow, but he's shrinking in on himself in the way he does when he gets nervous. “What are those? Multipulycation and division?”

Warriors stares cautiously at the traveler, gaze gentle but concerned. “Hyrule, do you not know how to do math?”

“Do you know how to count?” Twilight tries instead.

“Of course!”

“Can you combine numbers?”

“That’s counting, but with bigger numbers.”

“Can you subtract it again?”

“Yes.” Hyrule answers slowly.

“Can you multiply?”

The traveler stares at Warriors nervously. “I just told you I don’t know what that is.”

The captain, bless his heart, looks genuinely hurt. “Good grief, what sort of mentor is Legend? Not making sure you know basic multiplication?”

And Hyrule flushes, but his brows furrow as he pushes himself straight, always defensive of his mentor. “He didn’t know, and he’s a great mentor! He’s been showing me how to grow trees!”

“Legend knows forestry?” The captain starts.

“He has an orchard.” Twilight reminds him, light laughter bubbling in his chest at the understanding that crosses Warriors’ face at the words.

“Right.” The captain turns to Hyrule. “How about this, Legend can teach whatever it is he teaches you, but when he’s done with that for the day, you come find me? Math is a wonderful thing, even if it is a tad complex, and it'd be a shame to let you go without knowing it.”

Betrayal makes itself known as Twilight pulls away from the two. “You like math?”

Horror blooms on Warriors’ delicate features. “You don’t?”

“Arithmetic is the bane of my existence and if I didn’t need to know how to count rupees, I would willingly forget it.” Twilight spits out.

“It’s wonderful!” Warriors defends. “Everything makes sense and has a logical explanation! You can count on it having an answer every time.”

One dark brow raises as midnight blue stare back at the captain, unimpressed. “Except when it doesn’t. Except when you have to graph equations but you can’t because they don’t have answers. Except when there’s two missing numbers and nothing fits in together, except when the numbers decide to become letters and you have to spit up the alphabet along with your equations.”

“How much math do you know?” Warriors raises a brow.

“Too much.” He isn’t even ashamed of the shudder that makes his pelt tickle against his cheeks. “Wild is a literal genius at it, and I can’t even number how many time he's decided to use it to explain some hare-brained scheme. Trajectory and angles and-” He shivers again. “No thank you. It’s like he ate a math textbook and just keeps spitting it back up, every time he wants to do something dumb.”

The captain whistles lowly, royal blue eyes sparkling. “You mean he has theories and reasoning behind all that? Dang!”

The glare shot the captain’s way is nothing short of threatening. “Do not encourage him, or so help me, Wars. I can hardly contain him some days as is, he doesn’t need someone else egging him on.”

“Oh, trust me,” Gloved hands raise in a non-threatening motion. “I just want to pic his brain, maybe he can help me tutor the traveler here.”

And Twilight almost asks him not too, almost begs that the captain not, before realization hits. “You know, that is actually a good idea.” He smirks. “I’m surprised.”

The deadpan look he receives is well worth it. “You wound me.”

“Were your skin not so delicate, I wouldn’t.” He returns, smile stretching wider. “But that aside, if Wild is busy tutoring Hyrule, he won’t be off blowing things up, and if Hyrule gets a better education out of it that's even better.”

“I’ll ask him about it.” Hyrule answers, eyes lighting up in a way that looks innocent, but considering the kid is Legend’s descendant there’s a very good chance that it isn’t fully. “Maybe he can teach me some tricks while he’s at it.”

“No!” The voices ring at once, but it’s already too late, Hyrule is tapping his chin and muttering low under his breath as a wide smile stretches over his face.

“What have you started.” Twilight whispers, horrified.

“I’m sorry.” Warriors returns, just as grim. “I won’t tell Legend if you don’t.”

[vminity21]

Beyond the Facade | knj

Pairing: handyman!namjoon X preacherskid!reader, bestfriend!taehyung X pregnant!reader, f2l!au

Word Count: 10,958

Genre: mysterious/angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): strong language use, semi-detailed childbirth, mention of infidelity, alluding of a love triangle, evidence of a sheltered background, angst involving family matters, smut, losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), nipple play, hand groping, lots of flashbacks but that is the point of the story i sorry; Rated: 18+

Summary: A sheltered life leads to harbored secrets that are buried in order to protect someone you are falling in love with. As the time is nearing for the life growing inside you to be welcomed into the world, the reminiscences of all the moments unfold to reveal a beautiful story that needed to be told.

Credits to: @suhdays​ for making such a phenomenal header! The talent she has never ceases to amaze me!

The graying of the clouds is all you can see beyond your window other than the panging rain droplets now trickling upon the glass. Arm resting against your forehead, your lips press into a straight line in response to the series of thoughts circling your mind. Carefully, you slide your palms upon the mattress in an attempt to sit up, wanting to see more of the view besides the crying sky. Knuckles curling to rub your tired eyes, you furrow your brows, the comforting warmth of the bed covers remain tangled between your shins. Leafless trees border the side of the building save for a small swing set; a paved section decorated with a basketball hoop where a large shed stands many feet across from it. If one is to step outside the front of the structure, there sits a church surrounded by a gravel parking lot where the neighboring land hosts a barbed wire fence with an abandoned house and field.

It's been four months since you deemed the fellowship hall your home, and appreciatively, the area has been vacant since the falling of the church which saves even more stress than what you've been in since moving here. Achingly, your legs stretch to move off the bed before your feet land onto the grainy carpet. Your right-hand slips to steady your back, maneuvering your body to scoot to the bed frame, which has become a daily routine, weak fingers gripping the wood until your digits become pale white. Letting out a steady sigh, with all your strength you lift yourself to where you can stand, "Oomf," a small whimper escapes past your lips, tensing at the cringe plaguing your shoulders.

Being seven months pregnant sometimes has its perks, but this isn't one of them. Bending your body forward slightly, you step sluggishly toward your dresser, pulling out maternity clothes lent to you before the move.

"So, when are you going to tell us?" The soft murmur belonging to your mother echoes from the driver's side. Her expression submits an evident mixture of exhaustion and exasperation; though it's been a month since the announcement of your pregnancy, your mother is currently driving you to a doctor's appointment for a checkup on the baby to make sure everything is okay, "we have a right to know."

Arms crossed over your chest in mild annoyance, you bite the corner of your mouth until the side of your head meets the window, getting lost in the line of trees zipping by.

Waddling into the bathroom, the vague memory fades, your hand reaching to turn the knob of the shower. The squeaky sound along with rushing water splatters against the shower curtain sending a soothing jolt of excitement. Chilly air springs goosebumps over your limbs once you're freed of your clothes, waiting patiently for the water to warm before inching into the tub. When steaming liquid soon dribbles among your frame, a grin of satisfaction sparks brief happiness you needed an escape to. The heat of the downpour eases your aching bones, fingers clasping behind your neck to lean your head back, "Oh!" You gasp in surprise when the instant feel of a kick happens within your tummy. Eyes flutter down in the direction of your swollen belly, palms moving to caress it, "Look at you, what are you trying to do? Escape?" Cooing with a light giggle, when the baby kicks again, you can't help the giddy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Now, this- this is what you love about being pregnant. Finishing up, you dry your hair before swiftly dressing along with brushing your teeth.

Thoughts still pertaining to the small life growing inside you, you've decided since your first doctor's visit that you do not want to know your baby's gender until the day that you give birth. When you presented the idea to your mother, she was all on board, proclaiming how she had done that with your younger sibling. Running a brush through your hair, you skim one final look into the mirror formerly then head to exit the bathroom.

Gradually sauntering through the mini hallway, you're more zoned on the way your hand pats upon the wall in some form of maintaining stableness to the point you hardly notice almost slamming into a tall figure.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" A deep voice panics, raising his arms in a way to catch you though your arms mirror the same. Heart ramming, a breath of relief winds past your parted lips- your eyes scanning the slim legs that follow to the handsome face of Kim Namjoon. His eyes enlarged apologetically.

"Oh Namjoon, you scared me," a tender chuckle sets the feel of calm for he sees the amnesty etched in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, [Y/N], I was about to head out to mow the lawn, but just wanted to check and make sure you're okay," he timidly scopes the view of your huge abdomen, gulping once his hands rest loosely at his sides, returning his eyes to search yours before a sweet grin spreads upon your face.

"It's no biggie. Thank you for checking on me,"

His dimples show from the way his lips press in a tight smile, nodding in reply, timorously turning to waltz to the outdoors in preparation of the day ahead. You watch until he disappears from your line of vision; the creep of a blush burning from your chest to your cheeks. Raking your hands through your hair, you force yourself once again to deny the attraction seeping through your soul thankful your blush attacked after he left.

Kim Namjoon works for your father, making sure the church grounds continuously stay clean and cut creating a pretty environment to the eye. Protecting the land is another part of the job description- protecting it from any loiterers, wild animals, protesters, etcetera- maintaining flower bushes encircling the area as well as mini projects your father will want Namjoon to build. The swing set, including the shed, happen to be plans that Namjoon successfully constructed due to your father's wishes. In return, Namjoon is provided a place to live- the room that once held your father's office, is now changed into a bedroom.

It's strange for you to think about it now- how so much has changed in just seven months, when a year ago the church was thriving, unaware of the secrets that clouded within the audience. Squeezing your eyes shut, a reminiscent from the beginning of your pregnancy rears its head causing a tiny brink of nausea to form.

Taehyung's arms drape around you tightly, embracing you in all entirety that your eyes shut against the crook of his neck. Your fingers squeeze his shoulder, legs bent across his thighs while tepid tears spill onto your cheeks.

"Shhh," he tries to comfort, his breath tickling your exposed ear- your face still buried beneath his chin, "It's going to be okay," he whispers just as soft as the flicking fire burning amongst numerous candle wicks. Scents of vanilla blends with birch fitting the dimly lit bedroom that you're thankful exists other than the man refusing to let you go until you feel better.

"How?" You choke back another sob, "How am I going to tell my parents? How am I supposed to confront the church if that's what it comes down to? Shit... My dad is going to fucking kill me," Taehyung's shirt is soaked, but he could care less, tangling his long fingers into your hair to stroke the back of your head.

"Okay, now, you're being dramatic,"

"So, maybe I am? But you know very well that my parents aren't going to take this lightly,"

"Yeah, but I think it's safe to say that telling your parents you're pregnant is far better than if you were to tell them how you truly feel about religion,"

"Okay? Perhaps, you're right," a snippet of a frustrated huff leaves your trembling lips, "especially not with what's been going on with the church, I don't know how much more they can take,"

"Well, your dad should have thought of that before he had an affair with my mom," Taehyung's icy tone brings chills to your frame before he loudly swallows, lips firm from the anger boiling behind his almond eyes. Tendrils of his bright, red hair glow regardless of how dark the atmosphere is, and you hardly hold back the sheer pain stabbing your heart from the guilt you can't help but endure.

"Tae, I'm so so sorry,"

"Hey," he peers down at you, realizing he may have taken his comment too far, even though you're just as angry towards your father as your best friend is, "you didn't know," sniffling back the remaining mucus clogging your nostrils, you desire to face Taehyung no matter how foolish you think you may look, scooting your body to where your palm indents in his mattress next to his legs, his arm now rests around your waist, and for a split second, you're close enough to where the tempting appearance of his striking face beckons the strange glimmer of longing. A longing of curing whatever loneliness you're going through, but you're not the only one experiencing this moment for Taehyung's lips part just enough to plead your attention.

You can't stop yourself, and you don't, because before either of you comprehend, you close the gap letting the delicate wave of his kiss caress yours. "Tae," you breathe against his lips, reuniting with his kiss almost immediately while a dizzy spell of want travels through your chest. You know this isn't right. He knows this isn't right, but too many pent-up emotions between your hearts have gotten out of hand, and for now, all the two of you have is each other. His fingertips move to tenderly trail your jaw, gasping into his mouth when the tip of his tongue circles yours before you move to trap him in a perfect straddle. You need something, anything to feel whole again- something to forget about the people you lost and the people you will lose. And, if there's anyone in this world you do not want to lose it's him.

There's no refraining, there's no hesitation, just the growing pace of the kisses, and the way you're so enthralled with how beautiful he feels squeezing you tighter to him. "[Y/N]," he moans, hating himself for how far he wants to go with you, yet he craves your touch, nearly supplicates for it. You want to feel his skin, and the aching throb below you seems to deafen any other screams of stopping, and yet, your fingers move to the end of his shirt, peeling it just enough to expose the solid wall of his abdomen. "[Y/N]," he stops you, breaking the final kiss, his hand covering your wrist, while your eyes frantically search the side of his face, "We- we can't,"

You haven't seen him since, because of the boundaries that were crossed and would have been farther crossed if Taehyung had not had the strength to stop. The pair of you have been best friends since childhood, and neither of you wants to take anything beyond for the sake of feeling empty, but he assured you that night, even after your panic of apologies pouring from your mouth, after the humiliation that shackled your system, even after the daunting assumption that your friendship was over- he cupped your cheek, promising that he was still here and that he would never end your attachment over something, you both will never regret.

It's a secret you've suppressed for some time. Taehyung calls every so often when he can; dealing with his broken-hearted father on top of two jobs consumes every bit of his time. Yet, you can't help but miss him, the one person who loyally stayed by your side even when you came forward to your friends about your pregnancy. And, the one friend who still loves you all the same, even after discovering his mother's affair with your father.

Rage isn't enough to describe the resentment against your father, and ever since you told your parents that you were expecting, and ever since your move, you haven't spoken to him. You'll never forget how torn your mother was- depression weighing heavy on her, and that's something that's hard to forgive.

Your mother looks frail as she twiddles the crumpled tissue in her hands. Tears brim her eyes through the silence in the car, sparse sniffles breaking your heart into a million pieces. The two of you had just come back from the grocery store to restock the kitchen in your recently new home and are now parked at the church's back door to drop you off. You hesitated upon leaving because the thought of your mother having to return home to a place of remorse is the last thing you want for her. The promise of a car was granted to you, but you turned it down, refusing to accept anything from the man who caused so much pain to your family. To Taehyung's family.

Running the tissue underneath her eyes, she speaks, "[Y/N]?"

"Yeah?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but the guilt from how stressed your mother has been is something you wish you could carry instead of her. After the betrayal of your father as well as him resigning from the church to send people away from the place they once sought refuge in- on top of her oldest daughter being pregnant with her first child is already a lot to handle. The other frustration you bite your tongue from expressing is the fact of your parents refusing to let you get a job until the time after you give birth. You want to make the money to provide for yourself and your son or daughter without the dependence upon your parents- your mother especially, yet you're grateful for her adamancy on keeping you from any risks outside of the walls of your home.

It takes a moment before your mother gathers her words, "Do you- do you think you could ask Namjoon to help take you to the hospital? Whenever it's time... for you to have the baby?"

It was easier for your mother to ask that of you because he lived in the same building, and if any emergency of your water breaking happened earlier than expected, at least you would have someone available to take you to the hospital. Your gaze clears from the zone out you've had the whole time standing in the entrance of the hallway before Namjoon left. Turning on a heel, you decide to return to your bed, slipping under the covers- you're too wide awake to sleep as of now, yet the foam of the mattress eases the soreness of your back once you lean against the pillows.

-Four months earlier-

Queasiness envelops your abdomen to where you recognize the cue, rushing to the porcelain throne to heave whatever yellow liquid is left- spurting it into the toilet while you grimace through the pain. The door swings open behind you mixed with heavy footsteps quickening to you. When large hands swoop to hold your hair back, you don't have the strength to look at the intruder due to the continuous retching that deems you defenseless.

"It's okay, it's okay," the deep voice is soft, and relief brings tears to your eyes when you recognize it to be Kim Namjoon. You're embarrassed once your stomach gives you a break, your palms pressing to your forehead while you slump against the wall.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, swiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Namjoon scatters to find a tissue, patting the corners of your lips.

"You don't have to be sorry,"

"That... wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

A knowing glance is all he must give for you to share whatever thoughts you can't bring yourself to voice. He was your friend before all of this, yet you failed to mention to him about the pregnancy, and with him being the worker of the Church- he didn't discover your budding stomach until the day you moved in. His eyes flicker away from your stare toward the slight protrusion of your baby bump due to your ruffled t-shirt. He settles on the floor across from you, silence being the only conversation held. He isn't one to hold anger, and though you kept him unaware until your third month of pregnancy, he refuses to leave your side, making a pact to himself he will do whatever it takes to provide the care that you will need. As well as the little one.

Despite the emotional roller coaster, you remain amazed with how he keeps his patience with you. A day of depression to a random bout of laughter- memories turning of the betrayals of close friends who judged you immediately the day you put your trust in them- the freedom you craved away from the sheltered life your father forced upon you- even days where you can't seem to put your tears on pause, yet Namjoon holds you through every grieve.

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?" Your voice shakes between sobs- you had been dreaming restlessly yet another night, tossing within your bed to the point Namjoon came to check on you- rushing to pull you into his arms the moment your eyes fluttered to reveal pained tears. Your words nearly shatter him- pulling away just enough to where his eyes lock with yours.

"How can you say that, [Y/N]?" The faint light of your lampshade causes his face to glisten- angelically, you decide, yet the shadowing doubt of motherhood plagues you still, because what if you genuinely can't care for the child that you're six months away from holding? Fears encompass you like an ocean, smashing along your mind in harsh waves. "Look at me," are the words that snap you from whatever sea you were suffocating in to realize you had unintentionally switched your gaze from him. It's the calming effect the warmth of Namjoon's eyes bring when he exposes whatever faith he has in the woman you are and will become. "You're going to do just fine, believe me, I know it,"

Sniffling, you run the back of your hand along your chin where an escapee of a tear dangled, "How can you be so sure?"

"Because when have you ever given up on anyone that you care about," it's not a question, he's stating what he knows to be a fact. Something he learned of you when he first was hired to tend to the property. "You're stubborn when it comes to winning someone over. I was determined not to befriend anyone here. But you changed that for me, remember?"

A knowing tug of a smile trembles into a stretch upon your lips, "I do,"

"Same with the baby. I know you will love that little one more than life itself. It doesn't have a choice, and you'll let him or her know the second they're born,"

When a hearty snicker leaves your mouth, you notice the sticky feel of your drying face- you are no longer crying.

"You don't have to do this alone, [Y/N]. You showed me that even when I didn't know what else to do. Now, get some rest, okay? You have a doctor's appointment bright and early," the bed creaks from the gradual movement of Namjoon standing,

"Wait!" You speak before you can stop yourself, Namjoon immediately pausing- the heat of his arms is felt beneath your palms from your pounce of panic, and with evident chagrin, you shyly stare at his chest, "Can you uh, ... Can you stay in here with me tonight?" You've refrained from asking sooner due to the shame of not telling him the news that's become apparent, and even now, you haven't been able to comprehend how he's not the slightest bit angry with you. When his arms encircle you closer to his frame, no words need to be said because he's already answered by just this gesture. Nuzzling into his embrace, the side of his chin pressed to your forehead, "Whoever it is, I hope they grow up to be half the person that you are," you whisper, squeezing him tighter, infinite smiles now ending the night that cures any ounce of uncertainty.

By the fifth month of pregnancy, you finally come to the realization of how selfish you have been- it's no longer about you and your needs; it is now about the needs of your son or daughter growing within you. Namjoon catered to every grocery store trip, stocking the kitchen and in return, you choose to cook for him every meal, hoping to show as much appreciation to him that you can.

"Have you thought about any names?" Taehyung's voice muses on the other line of the phone, the sound of him bringing a small smirk upon your face. You've missed him terribly so, yet the acceptance of surprise phone calls is all you can settle with for now. At his question though, you pause with the tilt of your head, taking a quick sip of the broth that you're currently heating on the stove.

"No?" It's a brief question of guilt, something you haven't been ready to ponder, "Honestly... haven't thought that far ahead yet," you add in the vegetables to boil within the broth.

The familiar, deep chuckle is all you hear to gain an idea of what your best friend is about to say next, "I should have known,"

"Alright, Birkenstocks. What do you mean by that?"

"Breezing past that mistake. You named your Parakeet, Bird,"

"Well, in my defense, I was seven years of age,"

"And in my defense, playing basketball in Birkenstocks was supposed to start a trend,"

"Since how? I-"

"Ask Hoseok,"

"You lost a bet didn't you-"

"And, I will pay for it for the rest of my life, now won't I?"

"With me around, you will,"

Hoseok is the deacon's son who's dream of fashion has been shunned by his family, yet he designs in a sketchbook Taehyung hides for whenever Hoseok and he share the same work shifts. He's not one you have had the opportunity to communicate much with, but you're thankful Taehyung has someone to maintain a friendship with while you two have been apart. A short response of silence settles while your cheek and shoulder squeeze the phone for a moment as you stir the steaming vegetables.

"You could have named the bird, Tweety at least-"

"Oh!" You playfully growl, "Back with that again, huh?"

"Do I need to send you a link of baby names-"

"I promise you, Tae, I do not plan on naming my child, Kid, okay?"

"You'd be surprised-"

Taehyung's excitement for his future Godchild brings a simmering joy to the surface of your pattering heart. Almost as equal to the eagerness, your mother has shown with this being her first grandchild. Graciously, your mother has never been as strict as your father, hence why the past five months have gone much smoother then they would have if your father had never had an affair with Mrs. Kim.

The phone call ends whenever dinner is finished, and by that time, Namjoon scuffles through the door- the outdoorsy scent drifts to your nose while you place the sweltering bowls of soup on the table. Namjoon shimmers his feet from his work boots before hanging his coat, timidly glimpsing in your direction to confirm you're okay.

Small talk ensues with the typical questions of how each of your days has gone once the pair of you take your seats. One secret, yet another you and Taehyung have harbored, is the awareness of Namjoon's atheism- something your father must never learn of his worker. Namjoon, who will not admit it, works on the church grounds in order to provide for his family who lives a few miles up the road. Ultimately, there are many secrets not worth sharing to your parents, not only for the sake of sanity but for the protection of the ones who you've kept close, especially Namjoon. With your father being the tyrant of a priest, he used to be, there is still the potential distress of him firing Namjoon over the mere difference of beliefs. Something you refuse to let happen while you're around.

Clinking spoons replace conversation, for how long, you're uncertain; the fog of your thoughts seem to consume upon one in particular- something that has remained festering long enough, yet you have never said it aloud- figuring this moment may be the time that you do. Namjoon confided in you and Taehyung once he found comfort in trusting the pair of you- even subjects that one would have never expected him to open about. Guilt presents itself to the point your eyes squeeze shut, opening them to move your spoon to play at a piece of broccoli swimming in the potage.

"They don't know," your words are careful- slow even- continuing your vision on the dinner before you. You can feel Namjoon's soft eyes on you, his expression confused. "They don't know who the father is," that's when your gaze trails to meet his eyes just for more guilt to manifest behind them. By they, you're referring to your parents, as well as every other soul excluding Taehyung, "I won't tell them." Namjoon slowly nods with the sense of understanding, knowing the cost that will be taken if your father were to know who you're trying to bury beneath this web of fear. "Besides," you sigh heavily, "I'm surprised my father was lenient enough to let me live here," you confess, "if he wasn't so guilty over the affair, I would be homeless-"

"I wouldn't let that happen," Namjoon says suddenly, destroying whatever anger you were dwelling upon. Your mouth falls open in shock at his words and the frilly flutter of your heartbeat is hard to ignore. After living here for two months, he's proven time and time again that he means what he says; what he just said. Speechless, the rest of dinner continues in fond silence, your heart refusing to steady for the man slowly captivating your heart.

The sixth month of pregnancy gifts swollen feet and aching bones on top of your belly growing heavier by the week. Namjoon has stayed loyal- tending to your pregnancy cravings in the dead of night, aiding to your discomfort whether it involves a heating pack or a cup of ice, slipping under the covers on nights you want him to hold you, driving you to every doctor's appointment without any hesitation; with all that he's been doing for you, it's like your feelings have blossomed deeper which you know shouldn't be happening with the peril of your father finding out. The unexpected visits from your father are few, yet you usher the reminder to yourself of protecting Namjoon, though he carries the weight of facing your father instead of you who avoids the confrontation.

Night comes quickly after a day spent cleaning up the nursery that seems to be coming together, other than the crib Namjoon's been building- something you accidentally discovered when strolling close to the shed one sunny day. He's so dedicated to the unborn infant, it nearly brings you to tears, glancing around the elegant hues of multiple pastel colors painted across the room with stuffed animals, blankets, and furniture he continues to gift you amongst different items your mother has added to the collection. You always enjoy the sporadic visits from your mother, because she's free to celebrate the life that she refuses to consider as a sin.

"Are you thinking boy or girl?" Your mother elbowed your side earlier today after moving around the furniture.

"Hm," you hummed happily, thankful for the relationship that's being redeemed with her, "you know? I'm not very sure,"

"I can tell from all the colors you've chosen," she teased, "it looks beautiful," she cooed, pulling you into an accomplished side hug. You didn't want to stick to just pink or blue, so you chose every other shade in between, colliding the space with colors that could go for either or. "You're going to be a wonderful mother,"

The sound of the front door opens distracting you from the former memory, staring down at the table that now rests heaping plates of chicken and rice. The fellowship hall used to be filled with numerous rows of horizontal tables mingled with circular ones where the crowd would come to camaraderie to joyful hymnals, delicious food, reflected testimonies without any warning of the secrecies soon floating to the surface. Now a solo table, the one planted before you, pairs with a few sparse chairs just enough to seat at least four people.

"Hiya," you greet, trying to ignore the subtle increase of your heartbeat. Namjoon flashes a kid-like smile once he shutters out of his jacket, "How was your day?"

"It was good, thank you," he replies, taking long strides until he makes it to you, "How was yours with your mom?" His right-hand steadies the small of your back while his left one clutches yours to help settle you into your seat. It's hard to focus on the question he just asked when the scent from outside seems to heighten the attraction you already feel towards him, "It was good," you manage to say, reaching for the silverware to begin digging into your food, "Thank you... For helping me," the distance between your stomach and the table now is something you've been trying to get used to as well as the turmoil of trying to stand and sit.

"Anytime."

A blush floods your cheeks when he holds your timorous stare, so you avert your eyes to your dinner, letting the obvious feeling of Namjoon watching deepen the red shade on your skin. A few minutes disappear into time before you feel a shove against your abdomen from the inside. Your hand instinctively flies to press upon the baby bump, Namjoon jumping at the motion, stopping mid-chew, while his eyes enlarge in surprise.

"It's okay," you chortle at his reaction, "it's just the baby kicking," his response reminds you of the moment you felt the baby kick for the very first time- similar to a weird flutter that's hard to describe, and it had taken you a second to realize what it was exactly- just your baby making its presence known to you. Namjoon swallows the bite of food in a nervous gulp, the pang of his silverware mutes from where he lays it on the napkin.

"Here," you murmur affectionately preparing to stand to your feet. Namjoon immediately jolts from his chair, rounding the table to gather your hand in his. Instead of relying on his strength to help you position yourself, you plop back onto the seat, sliding his hand to the area where the baby kicked a few minutes prior. Namjoon kneels to level with you, his plump lips ajar mirroring the widen stance of his eyes while he patiently waits, his nervous heart pounding in his temples. It's the exuberant joy in his smile that meets his eyes in a dazzling glow the pure second the baby kicks again, and the bliss of delight smothers your heart in so many ways imaginable at this moment the pair of you are capturing together. Your hand remains resting upon his while your eyes lock repudiating from breaking contact.

"I told you that you don't have to do this alone," he whispers, and it's then you come to the awareness of how near his face is from yours, his dimples visible from his smile to the point you press your lips to each one, shocked at your act of boldness, but you can't refrain. He's too handsome and too wonderful to stay away from any longer. That's all the invitation needed, for Namjoon's lips brush yours igniting the sparks of what you've been trying to suppress for way too long. Your fingers find his hair when he leans to deepen the kiss, moving his hands to rest on the chair, fingers pressing into the wood until pale white.

At this moment, you don't care what anyone thinks.

You are in love with Kim Namjoon, and there is nothing in this world that's going to scare you away from that.

-Present day-

The pitch black outside the window brings frustration when you awaken to scold yourself for how long you've slept. Gathering yourself once the fatigue rolls off, you cautiously sit up, scooting to the bedpost until you're on your feet. Taking a trip to the restroom, you notice upon exiting the clock on the wall reads seven pm, and you wonder if Namjoon has made it inside for the evening. It's eerily quiet save for the air conditioning, but you pause when you see the lights are on in the main area of the building. Shrugging, you waddle around the corner until the sudden shouts of, "SURPRISE!", nearly knocks you to the ground.

Gasping, your eyes widen while your hand flies to your chest. A prolonged second interferes before your brain deciphers the two individuals cheering before you. Numerous pink and blue balloons hover to the top of the ceiling matching the colors of a cloth decorating the one table now adorned with a cake and wrapped gifts. "What?" You can barely speak from the light headiness taking over, but the tears that well in your eyes when you see the boxy smile of your best friend sends you in an attempt to run just to crash into his arms. He meets you halfway, surrounding you within his embrace as he rocks you back and forth muffling your wails of joy into his checkered sweater. Your soaked cheeks are wiped away from the material as been done countless times before, and his tepid palms squish your cheeks when he steps back to gesture toward your belly.

"Wow look at you! Your belly is huge!"

"I'm still in denial of how fast this pregnancy is going!" You say breathlessly, you're so happy to see Taehyung, you can hardly contain your composure. Namjoon steps forward with his hand reaching to squeeze your best friend's shoulder. Taehyung's fiery strands are curled upon his forehead, lustrous beneath the lights as it always has before, "Your father let you come?" There's a seriousness behind your voice at the question because you are cognizant of the fury Tae's father has against the church from the events that occurred what, in some ways feels like a lifetime ago.

"Well, no," Taehyung winces mischievously, "I told him that Namjoon and I were going to a basketball game,"

"Of course, you did, you sly fox,"

"You know you love me," Tae pecks your forehead before leading you to the table where the sweet whiff of cake flatters your nostrils.

"You guys didn't have to do this," you're still wiping tears off your face, though it's evident that your crying is from untainted gratitude, "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

Namjoon kneels, intertwining his long fingers with yours, using the tip of his thumb to tickle circles upon your skin, "Taehyung mentioned how when you were kids that you loved surprises, especially if it involved a small party of some sort so," he tilts his head toward Taehyung, "And I knew how much you missed him, too. I just wanted to do something to celebrate you. And, the baby,"

It doesn't take much to smother this man in kisses nowadays, and once you express your thankfulness to the men before you, Namjoon reads your mind, snatching a small kiss in return.

"You two are on kissing terms, again?" Taehyung teases while you poke your tongue at him in mild embarrassment. Namjoon does not know of the moment you and Tae shared, and that's something you're not ready to talk about, and with the cutesy scrunch of Namjoon's face, the memory escapes to the back of your mind for now.

By the end of the night, the frosting had met all three of your faces- some smushed into Taehyung's hair while some swiped across Namjoon's neck, and your eyebrows are smeared along with the possible suspicion of some getting up your nose. Cleaning the mess takes a while, but nobody in the room would trade it for anything, and it's good stalling to prevent the night from completely ending.

Walking Taehyung to his car is the only dread overwhelming your system because you're not sure of when you will get to see him next. Tears flood your eyes, breaking Taehyung's heart as an awe of shame gusts past his lips, "I'm sorry, [Y/N]. My dad's expecting me home soon,"

"I don't want you to go," you choke, on the brink of bursting at the seams- Tae fumbles to tighten his arms behind your back- him trying to be mindful of your abdomen being pressed too firmly against his frame.

"Please don't cry," he whispers near your ear, "Please, please don't cry," His lips curl from the tears burning within his own eyes wishing with all his strength he could rid of the aching hurt that has kept your friendship separated. Tae swiftly pulls away when he remembers another present, he meant to give you earlier, whirling around to unlock his car, bending into the vehicle while his hands shuffle around the floorboard in a desperate search for whatever he wants to show you. When he turns to face you, a sharp inhale of glee echoes into the night- the lopsided plush of a heart is attached to a blue body ornamented with yellow polka dots that match its mouth. "Oh my gosh!" You squeal, "Tae, it's adorable! Where did you find this?"

Wiggling his eyebrows in pride, he hands it to you, "I made it myself. And," he pauses for effect, "since you have trouble naming things, I did the honors and named it for you. I introduce, Ta Ta."

"Ta Ta?"

"Yeah, like 'Ta Ta... for now,'"

"Just when I thought I couldn't love your dork of a self even more," you exhale, slamming your eyes shut just to bury your face further into his chest, not able to breathe in his scent from the clog of mucus stuffing your nose.

"I love you, too." His voice thickens with emotion, "Now, quit saying it like you're never going to see me again, because you know I'm not going anywhere."

"You promise?" Your cold nose moves to press into the corner of his jaw where steady breaths move between your parting mouth. It's a serene moment where he turns just enough to glimpse at you, engaging in the beauty he's always found within your heart. Taehyung's agape lips now rest centimeters from yours when his large hands raise to rest his fingertips along your flushed cheeks- the curls of his frizzy hair pressing to your forehead, prickling your closing eyes. You discover your free hand enfolding around his wrist from the daunting desire looming from what's been left unspoken, and the shiver in his breathing brushes your chin once the light touch of his nose cuddles to yours. You both stand there for a seeming reel of eternity, battling the inward mayhem of choice that's displayed itself on the invisible line tempting to be traversed.

"I promise."

He hadn't kissed you, but there was no denial that he wanted to, especially with the way your face has haunted his dreams since the night your lips met in emotional patterns of sorrow. But, deep down, he knows it's too obvious of a choice if the one for him is to be you, but the love that has been kept for you will never go away. The same as a tether of your heart will forever be his no matter how deep your love goes for someone else. Kim Taehyung will always be your poise- your muse- the soulmate of a friendship that you will always need.

Toddling to the nursery upon Tae's departure still presents the boiling tears from your tired eyes dripping off your cheeks as you set Ta Ta beside the koala plushie Namjoon gifted you; the humor involving the struggle of both Taehyung and Namjoon carrying the crib Namjoon built for the baby taunts a smirk at the corner of your lips. It's dark besides the faint light of the hallway behind you, giving you just enough to admire the scenery around you- sniffling back what you can before reaching to cover your quivering chin with your hand. You've missed Taehyung. You miss him. And, how beautiful of Namjoon to surprise you with your best friend's presence? Reuniting the three musketeers from once upon a time?

Little do they know, from the unearthing of your pregnancy to now, the two men have mended your broken heart and stitched it back together again piece by piece. You're highly uncertain of where you would be without them, and just the thought alone is one you refuse to dwell on. While memories turn like a spindle of loosened thread, a revelation halts you in your tracks. The thought rings loud and clear gracing a wide smile on your face while one more set of tears dampen the corner of your eyes.

After scolding yourself for so long for not thinking hard enough on the subject,

right here, hands grasping the handlebar of your future child's cradle,

you finally have a name picked out for your little one.

-

2 months later....

"Namjoon, I'll be fine," the pointed look you flash him prompts a nervous chuckle once his hands rest to rub gently along your sides. He's concerned as he's been almost the entire pregnancy, but of course, now his worries are heightened to an extreme, "I'm not due until next week. Don't worry,"

"I know," he groans, tugging you closer just enough to plant a warm to kiss to your neck, "But, I can't help it."

"I'll be fine," you drag the word with a teasing sound of a whine. Namjoon shaking his head at you with a smile you're now feeling upon your lips. "Mm," you hum into his kiss, your hands sliding to squeeze his shoulders in reaction to how impeccable it feels. You end the moment simply to gaze at him, "You'll be back before you know it," you assure him- his trip to the grocery store being the plan for the afternoon.

"Okay," he says tenderly, eyes flickering to your lips once more before leaning to brush them to his own, "I love you,"

There's a small pause, one that entails warmth smothering your chest in giddy sensations when his eyes steal yours after pulling away, "I love you, too, Joon," watching him head out the door until the truck disappears along the road.

Of course, the day doesn't go accordingly the way you expect, because on carefully prodding to the kitchen in preparation to cook breakfast, a slight ache ensues within your abdomen. "Oh," you groan, stroking the area with your fingertips before deciding to lay down for a bit instead. When reaching your room, the sharp pain of a cramp returns causing a harsh cringe as you lean against your bedpost, hardly able to concentrate on the attempt of climbing onto the mattress. You remain hunched over for five minutes, forcing slow breaths to prevent from panicking, and when you find the coast to be clear, you straighten yourself out.

Suddenly, before you can comprehend what's happening, a gush of water splatters onto the carpet soaking your feet in the process.

"No," you whisper, eyes frantically scanning your room for your cell phone. Namjoon shouldn't be far with the grocery store only being a few miles away, but in order to get a hold of him, you must find your only way of contacting him. Hands pat your bed, thrusting off the bed covers and shaking them roughly, yet no 'thump' is heard before you cast the covers in a pile onto the ground. The next destination leads to the restroom, with no luck of your phone being in your bedroom- when another wave of pain shoots within your stomach, you gasp, trying to endure through the discomfort with all your might.

Leaving a water trail behind with every step you take, you desperately search the countertops before stepping into the area that holds the kitchen, wondering if there is any possibility it may have been left behind there. Your feet meet the cool surface of the tile floor, your gape scanning the entirety of the space before a pant of relief escapes past your dry lips the second your shaking hands gather the device. "Agh!" A contraction surges, hands squeezing your phone unintentionally, yet you grimace just enough to maintain your focus on the task at hand. Managing to get the phone ringing, it doesn't take long until you hear the man of your dreams at the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Joon, it's time," you choke, voice thick with pain.

"Oh, shit! Hold on tight, I'm on my way, just hold tight, I'm coming-"

You just happen to be running by the church in favor of dropping off the work truck keys to your father when he unintentionally introduces you to the new employee you assume he plans to hire, "[Y/N], this is Kim Namjoon. He's going to be taking care of the church grounds for us, isn't that wonderful?"

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," you greet, underlyingly suffering from the attraction swarming to your reddening cheeks. When your father mentioned of hiring, you never anticipated the person to be this overwhelmingly breathtaking.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ma'am," Namjoon's polite nod mirrors the dimples evident from a soft grin, his hand reaching for yours to shake before your father continues the tour of the place you've grown up memorizing. But something initiates you to stay, eyes lingering on the back of the tall figure decked in a turtleneck covered by a green jacket complementing a pair of jeans along with brown shoes. There's a spark of intuition that day, one that ignited the prominent determination that you want to get to know this person even if your father ends up finding out.

Namjoon busts through the door with pure alarm etched in his voice, "[Y/N], I'm here! Baby, I'm right here," he immediately jumps to where you are, keeled over on the floor, throwing his arm around you until he lifts you out of the fellowship hall and into the work truck. Words you attempt to form are muted by whimpers, tears brimming your eyes from the pain that doesn't end, "I'm going to grab the suitcase, I'll be right back," time must be faster than you can measure for Namjoon arrives, slinging the suitcase into the backseat before slamming into the driver's side.

It takes a while for the newly found employee to warm up to every opportunity you take in order to get to know him. One thing he's slowly but surely learning is that you're not one to give up so easily- something you've noticed him picking up on, especially on days, you annoy him when he's on call to build a project. You make it clear to talk to him nonstop until he acknowledges your existence, and the times he doesn't breathe a word results in a call to Taehyung.

"Come help me," you plea hearing Taehyung's exasperated sigh on the other line.

"You are so annoying,"

"You know you love me, fool," you gloat because with defeat, your best friend reluctantly joins you, even accompanying a basketball just in case if Namjoon happens to fancy sports. Your girlfriends, Luna and Jo, were informed of your undying crush on the mysterious worker, crossing their arms in jealousy that you half-heartedly ignored.

"He doesn't even come to the services," Jo droned, "Don't you think it'd be best to get to know someone that's more... active in the church? Like the pianist's son, Min Yoongi. You two had such a cute relationship when you were three-"

You can't get past why no one seems to understand that you must win Namjoon over, and though Luna and Jo have seen the world along with you since childhood, you roll your eyes, turning on a heel, "I'll catch you later,"

Tires screech along the road while Namjoon swerves past cars on the highway, hands ghost white from the tight grasp he has upon the steering wheel. Meanwhile, your hand grips the bar above you while your other rests upon your belly- the keenness of getting to hold your baby in your arms is all you're thinking about other than Namjoon who's keeping you sane.

"Just a few more miles and we will be there. Just breathe," his voice is unsteady from the fright of this situation, but he upholds his enlarged gaze upon the road. He fumbles for his phone- trying to contact anyone from your family in order to tell them the news.

"GAH!" Leaning forward, a wail echoes within the vehicle as another contraction attacks.

"You guys aren't going to stop until I'm your friend, am I right?" Namjoon's elbows are folded from the hold he has on the basketball meeting his chest. Tae jumps sporadically in front of him with outspread arms preparing to prevent the ball from flying into the hoop.

"Damn straight," you shrug your shoulders in observation of Namjoon's tilting head.

"I thought church girls didn't cuss,"

"And I thought you'd have more game than the basketball," You retort.Tae halts, straightening his frame, eyes flickering between you and a quiet Namjoon, "Now hurry up. If you win, I will leave you alone for good. If Tae wins then we treat you to dinner and a movie. How does that sound?"

With an incredulous shake of his head, Namjoon smirks, "Okay," the scuffle of his converse is heard on the pavement when he briefly turns to toss the ball toward the hoop. The basketball pangs the ring, twirling ferociously to the point, your heart begins to sink, but to your pleasure, the ball tips off the rim, landing in a rejoicing Taehyung's arms.

"HAH!" You sprint, colliding into Taehyung's embrace while Namjoon tries to stifle the smile overtaking his lips, "Looks like it's going to be a burger and fries' kind of night," you wink, unaware of the hope that Namjoon has of wanting to gain your friendship just as much.

The hospital entrance appears after the rush of Namjoon turning into the parking lot soon helping you out of the truck. The suitcase will have to wait being he can retrieve it later, his ultimate goal is getting you within the building to where you're safe. "It's okay, it's okay," he tries to appear relaxed, but everything becomes a blur until a nurse with fluffy, black hair approaches with a wheelchair to help settle you in. His nametag reads 'JIMIN' – him rolling you quickly down the hall when the presence of a female nurse whose nametag reads 'MONNIE' helps you change into the nightgown upon arrival of the hospital room. Voices are mingling together from the pounding in your temples, but Monnie keeps her hands gentle on your back to lead you to the bed where she hooks you up to what seems like a million machines whilst providing as much comfort to you as possible.

Namjoon's calloused hand covers yours when one other nurse, Jungkook, floods the room, bringing a chair for him to sit in. You're not sure of all the commotion that's overwhelming the room, but you steady your breathing as Namjoon directs, squeezing his hand through each contraction. You recognize the doctor, Kim Seokjin, a tall man already dawned in a scrub hat, mouth mask and gloves, scurrying to where you are, "Alright, I am going to check your dilation Ms. [Y/N], just breathe in and out." Slamming your eyes shut, you whimper from the discomfort, "Alright, she is dilated three centimeters. Once you are at ten centimeters [Y/N], you will begin pushing. No worries, I will alert you as soon as I need you to begin. Keep breathing. Everything will be okay,"

"Taehyung... My mom... Dad-" you murmur deliriously between breaths, the foggy sense of your conscious outweighing how to speak properly.

"No worries baby, they're on their way. They're on their way right now," he sweetly kisses your perspired forehead, running his free hand through your tangled hair.

The three musketeers were official after the day at the basketball hoop, eventually learning of Namjoon's atheism as well as him providing for his family.

"My dad couldn't find a job that pays enough, so I promised him that I will do whatever it takes," it had been six months since Namjoon had been hired, and currently is finishing his final paint to the shed while you and Taehyung sit Indian style in the grass. "Thanks to the job here, I can afford the rent for my parents as well as give them my car since here, I just use the work truck..." Namjoon sharing more in-depth with his life story- you finally get what you've been determined to gain since meeting him.

It's weeks later that you'll never forget, leaning against a mini, red monkey bar after sharing your feelings toward the man you've grown so fond of. There's no denying the feelings he's had for you, and once he inches closer, the crave to hold his hand has never been stronger. Boldly, your fingers trail to intertwine with his, your nerves close to getting the best of you despite the persistent smile that hasn't left him. When you find the bravery to look up at him, he swallows calmly before leaning in, you stand on your tiptoes to meet halfway until your lips touch. The slide of his arms encompassing your frame feels so inviting when he presses his body to yours. The world is put on pause to you and nothing else matters other than the way his lips move so elegantly- your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he sways you from side to side.

Time doesn't seem to speed up through all this pain, but the adrenaline swimming in your veins peaks when Dr. Seokjin prepares to check your dilation again. "Ten centimeters-" He confirms, "Alright, [Y/N], the baby's coming. When I say push, you push. Okay," he positions himself though you can't see anything past your gown and raised knees, "One, two, three! Push!"

"AGH!" You grunt, a small scream vibrating at the back of your throat once you push with every fiber of strength, you can muster.

"Breathe, breathe," Namjoon's hand hasn't once left yours- sweat pouring from your scalp while the burning agony overpowers your body.

"Is she here!?" The click of darting heels enters the room and are loud enough for it to catch your attention. "Oh, honey, I'm here!" It's your mother- scampering to your side with the undeniable blur of Taehyung's red hair following suit. You want to ask where your father is, but before a chance is given, the doctor shouts, "Push!"

"AAAAAAAGH!" You manage, body straining in all its entireness. Taehyung jolts to let you squeeze his hand along with Namjoon's. His features show nothing but fear at the sight of you being in so much strife, yet he holds it together enough to cheer you on.

"I'm- I'm so glad you both are here," you cry- another sixty seconds drifting before the shout of, "Push!" erupts.

"I'm scared," you murmur in the dimness of the room. On your knees, Namjoon's soothing hands glide along the tops of your thighs motivating you to run your hands along his forearms. You don't know where your parents are, and you're too angry to care. You're bushed of the fighting so, you sought comfort in being here, with Namjoon. Taehyung dropped you off at the fellowship hall with the promise of not breathing a word- because if your parents were to find out remotely of your whereabouts, you'd hate to discover what the consequences will be.

"Me too," his nervous eyes investigate every inch of your face. You've never been with anyone this way before- secretly hidden away from the world outside trying to suppress the revealing crave of what you're curious about. Scooting forward, you drape either leg around him, propping yourself enough to where your arms lace around his neck.

His breath hitches from the gesture- your lips erotically aligning with his in slow movements, heat rising below you when you feel the hardening of his being beneath your sense, "I want you," you whisper. He knows that you're a virgin, and with care, he lays you on the bed, hovering above your frame where your bodies align perfectly. "Are you sure this is what you want," concern consumes his countenance, but you desperately bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I don't think I've wanted anyone so much in my life,"

You gasp into his kiss where he slips his tongue along yours- the sensation one you've grown used to from the slovenly kisses leading up to this very night. You give Namjoon permission to sneak his large hands underneath your shirt, trailing up your ribcage before swallowing your breasts whole in his heated palms. Nipples so sensitive, your heat drenches the moment he realizes the effect it has on you just by merely brushing the rising buds, lipping at your neck while he basks in the beauty of your moans. "More," you beg, "Please, Joon, more." When clothes start to be thrown off, you're determined to pleasure him, but have not an idea on how to do so. "Show me," you breathlessly demand, Namjoon's palm leading yours to encircle his twitching being. You stroke his erection as shown, biting your lower lip from the throbbing feeling of your core- him instantly finding your entrance to fill it with his fingers as carefully as he can- both of you pleasuring each other, yet still getting lost in kissing so deeply, the two of you forget to gasp for air. The sensation of heated pressed bare skin can be the most beautiful thing, especially with the way your legs entangle with his. You're surprised the feel of his prodding fingers didn't bring as much discomfort as you would have originally anticipated, but when he brings a hand to his penis, he rubs his tip along your slit letting the sloppy sound of you leak onto it. "Holy shit," he moans from how soaked you are for him- his fingertips finding your clit while yours dig into the backs of his shoulders.

Smoldering kisses move from your lips to your breasts, down your abdomen to your inner thighs where you tense underneath his touch that slides to hold your bottom half where he can scan your heat. The tip of his tongue swipes upon your slit excruciatingly slow to the point your fingers tangle with the material of the bedsheets. The smacking sound of his lips savor your taste while his tongue circles your core- you're hyperventilating from how deliciously he flicks his tongue upon your slit, screaming his name relentlessly- the speed of his skilled mouth driving you wild from the growing climax beckoning your stiffening thighs, "Oh, Namjoon, oh- Joon- I- Oh!"

He's not ready for you to finish because there's more he wants to show you. Hovering above you once again to see you coming down from your high, your heaving chest longs for his touch, and he nearly comes undone from the smile embellishing your face. His tracing fingertips parade along the outline of your body in featherlike tickles while the sounds of panting breaths mingle with shifting sheets bring subtle music to your ears for the rest of the night. The gentle parting of his lips grasps your own in smooth movements persuading arousal streaming from your core. Your fingers now link with frilly tufts of his hair, gripping the strands in reaction to the pressing of his bare chest to yours, dreaming of nothing more than to be entwined with him for what you hope will be forever. Hips grinding into yours prompts the light moan teasing his ears for more before his mouth trails to pause above your pounding heart. His hair brushing your chin, your arms glide to wrap around him holding the hope that he will never let you go. Not even for a second.

"Alright, one more! Almost done! Push!"

Sucking in one long breath, with a compulsory scream, you push with all you have left in you. Exhaustion weakens your limbs, yet a rush of relief floods your body when the cries of an infant reverberate within the room. With heavy eyes, you turn to see your mother with tears cascading down her face and onto the back of her hand covering her agape mouth- eyes remaining locked in front of her. Taehyung's gaze doesn't drop though his fingers loosen from yours at the small bundle immediately apprehending the eyes of every individual. Right then, you move your head to your other side where Namjoon gradually rises in awe- his hand still has yours. Gathering any ounce of strength, you're ready to see the child you've been waiting to hold for nine months, so cautiously you sit up until your stare meets Dr. Seokjin's. You can see the smile in his eyes despite the mouth mask, and what he says next brings you to tears, "It's a girl,"

"Oh!" You thrill, anxious to meet her while the nurses scurry to clean her up.

"Sir, would you like to do the honors?" The doctor gestures a pair of scissors towards a stiffened Namjoon whose eyes are welled with hushed tears. He can't even speak, yet he nods from the happiness exploding beneath his chest.

"Wait," Your mom says, "Is- is?"

It's a moment that seems to fit the setting for your father walks in, as if on cue, shoulders slumped from the anticipating tension now darkening the room. Taehyung's shoulders tensed at the sight of the man he despises, but for the sake of you, Namjoon and his Godchild, he keeps his composure enough to ignore the elephant now standing in the room. The fear that used to consume you upon your dad unraveling the truth about your secret vacates you when you know that you and the two men present can conquer anything.

"Yes," the answer is to your mother, but your stern glower of warning is only connected with your dad's although your mother's stare remains on you, "Namjoon is the father."

Namjoon stands with pride while he accepts the pair of scissors from Dr. Seokjin- your father, with a shocked expression, watches as the man he hired happens to be the same man who stole his daughter's heart without his knowledge. Yet, he refrains from anger, because who is he to ruin such a precious moment about to unfold here?

Pictures are taken of Namjoon cutting the umbilical cord, his fingers gently rubbing his daughter's cheek while he wipes at the tears dripping from his eyes. Jungkook takes her into his arms to weigh her before wrapping her in a plush pink blanket, "She is seven pounds and five ounces,"

Endless joy envelops your heart from the scene playing out before you; especially, when the vision of your father's quivering chin, admiring his granddaughter leaves you speechless along with the hope of redemption entering your beating heart.

"Are you ready to hold her?" Monnie's kind eyes match her smile when she touches your arm.

"Yes," you stifle a sob, "I want to hold her,"

Monnie poses her arms to where Jungkook places your daughter, Monnie guardedly turns to rest your baby into your arms. Her small face chortles, her eyes closing while she puckers her tiny lips. "She's so perfect," you cry, love in all its beauty falling from your eyes while you watch your daughter's fingers fold individually upon her chest.

"Just like you," Namjoon whispers, locking eyes with you before inching forward to give you a loving kiss.

"I love you, Joon," you whisper, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I love you, too."

"Uh," the deep serenade of your best friend interrupts, all attention abruptly turning to see him raise an index finger in the air, "So, as the Godfather, I must ask a very serious question," the room chuckles along with him as they patiently wait for his request, "What's her name?"

"Ah," you nod, realizing that hasn't been made known to anyone other than to yourself. Your mother steps forward to place her hand upon your shoulder while your father keeps his distance enough to not cause any trouble- though the two of you share a small smile to let him know all is well. Namjoon watches you in admiration- the woman of his dreams holding his child in her arms while facing her deepest fear yet holds her head with pride about the man she will spend the rest of her life with along with her daughter swaddled to her chest. You are everything he's ever longed for and more, and he's ready to defeat any storm in life if it's with you and his daughter.

To answer Tae's question though, you return to face him, tears gathering in exhilarating bliss.

"Taejun." Her eyes slightly open at the hearing of her name as a tiny smile adorns her lips,

"Her name is Kim Taejun."

[pyrrhiccomedy]

the People have requested my book report on The Library at Mt. Char so this is now a Mt Char book club.

if you have not read The Library at Mt Char there is no reason to keep reading. I hope you're having a nice day, stay safe and don't do drugs.

So Mt Char has a couple of problems, but in my opinion only one grave problem.

Not a grave problem:

Erwin doesn't need to be in this book. An astonishing amount of ink is spilled on giving us Erwin's POV and I am at a loss in regards to what that's supposed to bring to the story. I mean, it's kind of neat to see Carolyn's "trick shot" from the POV of one of the people being manipulated, but that perspective could have just been provided by Steve. Everything Erwin does of any plot significance could have been done by Steve, a character who actually matters.

Please note that I don't hate Erwin, he's perfectly fine as characters go, he just contributes nothing, and it is baffling that he and Carolyn get the last scene in the book (instead of just ending on her reunion with Michael, a scene that was emotionally affecting and felt like a natural end point to her story). We are taking no questions, Erwin needed to be cut.

Also not a grave problem in my opinion, but I am sure others feel differently and I understand why they would:

Yo, the scope of what the catalogs cover is mad vague. I mean, I get that that's the point: when you have a character whose magic powers are "anything that has to do with death or murder," that's a broad license, and I'm fine with that. These are supposed to be demi-gods. I don't require a rigorously explicated magic system.

But then like...why can't Jennifer, the healer, also heal minds? That seems weird. Or like, it's implied that she kinda can, maybe, but none of the kids talk about their therapy sessions with Jennifer: they explicitly call out that she heals their bodies. But then she talks about how Margaret and David are sick (meaning mentally) in a way she can "no longer help?" Aren't you supposed to be the God Of Healing? Why can't you help anymore? And were you actually trying to help them before - or anyone else? That's never shown. You could have just said you only healed bodies, not minds, but then it's repeatedly implied that she CAN diagnose mental and emotional problems (and therefore should probably be able to do something about them).

So that's weird.

Or like, why is there Alicia, who "sees the future," and Rachel, who "sees possible futures?" That, uh, just sounds like the author was running out of ideas. Also, if Alicia could see the future, she probably shouldn't have been in that house when the SWAT team hit, yeah?

Stuff like that. The magic the kids can do is very "they have the powers the author needs them to have when the author needs them to have them, and they can't do anything the author would find inconvenient for them to do" but that's not a deal breaker for me because overall the vibe being put off by their various magical specialties works for me. Still, there were ways of getting us where we needed to go without begging quite so many questions.

Also not a grave problem, although more of a problem than the other stuff:

You know that anime trope where a super-genius character is having an entire conversation with another super-genius character through a screen, and it's revealed that the whole conversation was a distraction and pre-recorded so that Character 2 could Complete His Scheme against Character 1? And used his super-genius brain to predict every single thing Character 1 would say? And your suspension of disbelief staggers bloodied into the alleyway and collapses because you're really trying to hang in there, Code Geass, but that's fucking stupid, you're asking for me to believe that this character's intelligence is flat-out supernatural now and you've given me no reason why that should be?

That's how I feel about Carolyn, by the time she takes over the Library. Like, okay. The kids canonically have not even been at the Library long enough for any of them to master their catalogues except for Jennifer. None of them but Jennifer are masters of even their own subject.

Carolyn has been studying in secret from multiple catalogues - which is cool! I like how she slowly reveals over the course of the latter half of the book that she has powers from other people's specialties.

...But like...

She seems close to mastering her own catalogue. She is a competent healer and can raise the dead (Jennifer's catalogue). She can block attempts to read her mind, beats David in a fight, and understands how to kill Father (David's catalogue). She speaks lion and controls the dogs that surround the Library (Michael's catalogue). She could make the mathy "Denial That Rends" thing that kicks off the whole plot, and she can make a new sun and correct orbital rotations around it (Peter's catalogue). She can predict the future with such specificity that she knows how to cause Steve to drop a clip of bullets while he's being attacked by dogs exactly where Erwin will need to pick it up later (Rachel's catalogue, also this one is stupid, she could have just given Erwin an extra clip or something, but whatever).

That's half the catalogues. Carolyn doesn't seem prodigiously more intelligent than the other kids. She's smart, sure, but they're all weird demi-gods with a genius for their specialties. The rest of them haven't even mastered their own catalogue, and I'm supposed to swallow that Carolyn has attained 'competent or better' status in six? When she has to research five of them in secret? Without falling behind in her own studies?

It would be fine if they had all been masters of their own catalogues for years and years; that would mean they would begin to stagnate, while Carolyn kept learning. But that's not the case. By the end I wasn't impressed anymore at Carolyn's resourcefulness, it just felt like she could do anything and everything, shh, don't ask questions, she's the Chosen One so she just can.

The reason this isn't a grave problem to me is because Carolyn's journey isn't about becoming more powerful: it's about her emotional journey, which isn't affected by her being stupidly OP for no reason by the end of the book. She still sucked at the things that mattered, like "feelings" and "relationships" and "not being a shitty person." But I do think it hurt the story. I should be cheering on my protagonist when her wild schemes come together, not rolling my eyes.

Anyway. All that was the aperitif. Let's talk about

THE GRAVE AND GLARING PROBLEM AT THE CENTER OF MT CHAR.

So everything that happens in the book stems from Carolyn's thoroughly justified hatred of Father (and David, but David was made that way by Father). Father treated her, and all of the other kids, with extravagant cruelty. If you haven't read the book in a while, here's a sample of the kinds of things Father did to the kids, or, if David did them, that Father did nothing to prevent:

- Cooked David alive over 2 full days in a giant bronze bull (and made the rest of the kids bring the fuel)

- Put Michael's eyes out with a hot poker every night for 2 weeks (and made the rest of the kids watch)

- Murdered Margaret every few days, often in drawn-out and painful ways

- Made Rachel repeatedly give birth, raise the babies to about 9 months, then murder them with her own hands

- Allowed David to rape all 11 of the other kids (except Jennifer, probably because she was the healer and he wanted to stay on her good side)

- Allowed David to crucify, brutalize and rape Carolyn and Peter

- Gave Carolyn a loving new family for a year when she was nine years old (those two deer), then had David murder them in front of her and blame it on her for not remembering her homework well enough, then served the two deer at a feast to 'celebrate' her returning to the family

- Whippings, skinnings, and bone-breakings as standard disciplinary actions

Whoo-ee! Okay! We are talking about mythological cruelty. I am fine with this! The story takes place on a mythological scale. As outlandish as all of that is, the cruelty feels proportionate in a story about killing and replacing god. Father is cruel, indifferent, controlling, and alien. I have no questions, Carolyn please proceed with your revenge. We seemed on track for a tale in which Carolyn defeats Father, but in doing so she runs the risk of becoming him. Will she step back from the brink and retain her humanity after all of the trauma and brutality she's endured? Let's find out!

And then

and then.

Oh boy.

And then.

...It turns out, Father is a good guy after all.

And let me be clear: THIS IS NOT, IN AND OF ITSELF, A PROBLEM.

By the time you learn that Father is actually benevolent, and loved those kids, and cares about being a responsible steward to the world, and tried to leave the universe a better place than he found it, and genuinely regretted the suffering he inflicted on them when they were growing up, it feels kind of...natural? Like, I was surprised, but also not, because there were 90 pages of book left and Carolyn had already become god. This seemed like a thematically meaningful place to take the rest of the story.

It turns out Father was training Carolyn to replace him the entire time. He had to make her hate David because it was important that she "defeat a monster" on her path to becoming god. (It's not explained why she had to defeat a monster, but sure, okay; it's the kind of mythic feat that fits with the story we're in.)

Why did he choose Carolyn to be his successor? Well, originally he chose David, but David wasn't strong enough: every time Carolyn was the monster in David's story, she defeated him, and went on to rule the universe as an unspeakable tyrant. Since Carolyn always won, Father swapped their roles. He knew he had made the right choice when he put David into the bronze bull, and heard David begging for mercy: because when Carolyn had been the fated monster, she had never begged.

...Okay, so...hang on.

Hang on.

The only rule that we've established on "how to become god" is "you have to defeat a monster," right? I'll even grant you for free that it has to be a monster who is personally meaningful to you, although that part is never stated. Overcoming a great evil which has cast you down and abused you many times before, sure, okay.

...Why the FUCK did all that other awful shit have to happen??

I did not have this question when Father was just evil! That was a good enough explanation! But now that he's not evil, you HAVE TO EXPLAIN why he treated all of the kids so brutally!

Like dude you're GOD. If you need a monster for Carolyn, I'm sure you can make that happen without TORTURING CHILDREN FOR DECADES.

There didn't even need to be any other children! You could have two kids: the languages-kid, who is the chosen one (the chosen one has to be the languages-kid so they can read the Onyx Codex or whatever it was called at the end, the one written by Original God), and the war-and-murder kid, who is the monster. They could have just been forbidden to read the other codices, if it's important to you that your chosen one still prove her resourcefulness or whatever.

Why include all of the other kids??? It wasn't to give your chosen one a sense of family: Carolyn didn't feel close to any of them except for Michael (who I liked, but whose contribution to the plot was negligible).

Or keep the kids! But then why make them, and Carolyn, hate you?? You could just say, "Hey Carolyn, I am raising you to be my successor, you have to figure it out yourself because part of proving your worthiness is this kind of abstract, big-picture thinking, but I love you and whatever you end up deciding to do, just believe in yourself." And meanwhile you're off torturing the fated monster in order to get him piping hot and ready to be served.

Was the idea that Carolyn had to endure so much horror in order to prove she was 'tough enough' to be god?? Because that's not how trauma works! Kids who have been brutally traumatized are usually not made tougher by the experience! A fact that even the book understands, because 10 of the 12 kids are completely destroyed by their upbringing (I'm giving marginal exceptions to Michael and Carolyn herself).

And like

if Father doesn't have a good reason for having treated them so badly, the whole book falls apart!

Because getting revenge for that cruelty is Carolyn's whole motivation!

We are clearly supposed to feel okay about Father going to make a new universe at the end of the book: he's going with his cool tiger friend and that little girl with the connection to the elemental plane of joy who used to be the sun, he's happy to see Carolyn embracing compassion and kindness, which means he cares about compassion and kindness. He invented light and pleasure. Carolyn does nothing to try to stop him from going. He seems like a pretty good candidate for god. And I do feel okay with him leaving! I was convinced! Father is not evil after all!

But then you have! to explain! the abuse!!

It can be a throwaway line!! "Carolyn realized that everything she and her siblings went through had to happen the way it did, because [X]," embedded in the middle of a paragraph! That would have been enough! But I need an explanation!

"They were raised the way Father was raised himself" WHY? He was raised by the Emperor, an on-the-record awful fucking dude! Father proceeded to rule the universe in a far more benevolent way than the Emperor did, why would he feel like he had to raise his kids the way the Emperor raised him?

"Carolyn needed to overcome challenges on her path to godhood" how is TRAUMATIZING HER SO BADLY SHE ALMOST BECOMES INHUMAN - SOMETHING YOU WERE OSTENSIBLY TRYING TO PREVENT, see Steve being preserved as something that could give her hope, etc - A "CHALLENGE??"

Again, none of this is a problem if Father is just evil! YOU CHOSE to make him not evil! And that's fine!! I think it's a good choice for the story actually!! But then you have to, you have to, HAVE TO explain why all of that bad shit happened!

Because all of that bad shit is the reason Carolyn made there be a story.

And it turns out it doesn't make sense.

[adultswim2021]

Ephemera Week (2002)

Mission Hill (originally aired on WB, 1999-2000)

Mission Hill was a perfectly good animated series from former Simpsons show-runners Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein. It was a sitcom about cool young people in a cool young people city. Andy French is an aspiring cartoonist, intended to be a Matt Groening type who would (over the course of many many seasons) eventually find success and get his own super-successful animated series called THE SIMPSONS: SEASONS 1-8.

The premise of the show was that Andy’s parents retire and sell the childhood home, displacing his nerdy high-school aged younger brother Kevin. Kevin moves in with Andy and learns how to be a cool city style guy, you know, the kind that’s always “walkin here!” and sucking off Bob Balaban in the men’s room and whatnot.

The show is at least better than the bad seasons of the Simpsons, and has a cool alt-comics style that suits the show really well. Not to damn it with faint praise, it’s a good show. There are a handful of GREAT episodes and plenty of strong jokes. There's news of a revival in the works focusing on Gus and Wally, the older gay couple in the show. It's supposed to take place in the same era the show originally aired in, which is just great.

Like Baby Blues and Home Movies before it, I did catch this show randomly on it's network of origin. I saw one or two of the final episodes to air on WB. I liked it! I was glad to see it get revived for a run on Adult Swim. I've wanted more episodes ever since.

I don't think the show is available for streaming anywhere, which is too bad. It came out on DVD with special features. That DVD set was reissued on DVD-R without special features, so... buyer? be wary. There's also a number of music replacements that ruin some of the scenes. At one point I had a bootleg set where somebody took the DVD video and replaced the audio with the as-broadcast version of of the show. Good luck finding it.

Here's an episode guide showing their debuts on Adult Swim. Bold episodes were originally unaired, making their debut on the channel. Also note: episodes had an innocuous title and a spicier in-house title in parentheses. It’s real Police Squad! shit.

12AM Monday Morning:

May 20: Pilot (or The Douchebag Aspect) May 27: Andy Joins the PTA (or Great Sexpectations) June 3: Kevin's Problem (or Porno for Pyro) June 10: Andy vs. The Real World (or The Big-Ass Viacom Lawsuit) June 17: Andy and Kevin Make a Friend (or One Bang for Two Brothers) June 24: Andy Gets a Promotion (or How to Get Head in Business Without Really Trying) July 1: Kevin vs. the SAT (or Nocturnal Admissions) July 8: Unemployment Part 1 (or Brother's Big Boner) July 15: Unemployment Part 2 (or Theory of the Leisure Ass) July 22: Kevin Finds Love (or Hot for Weirdie) July 29: Stories of Hope and Forgiveness (or Day of the Jackass)

11PM Sunday Night:

August 4: Happy Birthday, Kevin (or Happy Birthday, Douchebag) August 11: Plan 9 from Mission Hill (or I Married a Gay Man from Outer Space)

ALSO NOTE: There are about five episodes that were in early-stages of production and if you poke around you can find scripts for these episodes ( here as of this writing). A full animatic and table read for “Crap Gets In Your Eyes” exists if you search for it. 

MAIL BAG

London Arbuckle ASKS! or, states! sorry I’m writing this lead-in without having read the whole message yet.

Another confusing Baffler Meal thing: the deleted cold open that's on the DVD. It gets called back to in the actual episode ("Between two steamed buns", "Nine dollars!? For what?") and provides crucial context, BUT it also gets contradicted in the actual episode (SG sells out for "one serious speaker" instead of owing a restaurant money). Also I remember all the ads for this episode used a clip from the cold open! It always kinda bothered me that they cut it but boys (matt & dave) will be boys!

I do think the cold open is nice and I always make a point to watch it with the episode. In my mind they are as essential as watching that boring Terry Gilliam short before Meaning of Life. The next step is pointlessly editing them together using Nero. Yeah, that’s the ticket

Here’s ANONYMOUS, baby!

It's summertime and we are talking about Adult Swim and I gotta ask when's the last time you've been to a pool. Have you ever in your adult life enjoyed the benefits of an adult swim. Tell us just how much you like splash around. Yes, that would be quite illuminating I'm sure (rolleyes).

Man, when was the last time I went into a pool? It’s been literally years. I think the last time I swam I did a bad job. I am definitely am getting “bad job” vibes off my hazy memories. Man, my memories used to be precious. Damn!

do you think theyll ever work with george lowe again in any major capacity or do you think he's just bad news.

I was about to say “isn’t he on American Dad” based on him name-checking American Dad as one of his many credits but I just looked it up and he was only in one episode. Damn. Somebody give George work he seems nice.

beakman's world, anyone? The wild and wacky world of Paul Zaloom? Hmm? Anyone?

lol you wish...

Baby Blues really was my everything back in the early 2000s, it may not have head the punk rock cred you clearly seem to crave it was a soothing balm for myself as a new father in a scary world (9/11 and all that, terrible stuff).

you raise a good point, that you’re a huge dork “with child” and I’m cool and laughed at 9/11 because it was funny to me, actually

Just read your Baby Blues "take down" and I gotta say: In the immortal words of Mike Francesca, "You're a fool. ho-kay? A total fool."

Uh huh. Yeah okay. Mike Francesca hordes pot bellied pigs in his apartment and lives in filth. He stinks, and so do youd

Baby Blue is like every animation nerd's wet dream. What if they made the rugrats with only the parents part. And here it is. Be careful what you wish for, chunky.

Yeah and it’s too bad because judging from the previous mail bags my audience is primarily made up of BABIES.

[teeth-and-tea]

Manga & Anime I've Binged This Month: July 2021

Anime:

(7/12) My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!: GAY AF BUT JUST UNDER THE RADAR ENOUGH TO SLIDE BY THE CENSORS?????? JESUS. A dumbass dense as a brick mf isekais herself into being the villain character in an otome (dating sim) game where the villain always dies/is exiled. To counter that, she changes EVERYTHING. And it's FANTASTIC. I watched the dub, which has its moments of meh, but otherwise suits it great. The story made me laugh and gasp and kept being fresh and surprising and of course it's based off a Light Novel like so many good new isekais are nowadays. Reverse Harem style but some of the "harem" characters are GIRLS. Yeah, and she even gets CONFESSED TO AND KABEDONED (wall slammed) BY OTHER GIRLS. Yeah. I love this show. 10/10, enjoy yourselves.

(7/13) If It's for My Daughter, I'd Even Defeat a Demon Lord: Add this to the list of "little girl child is adopted by an older male figure into a healthy father-daughter bonding experience and is honestly really cute and sweet but always has a tragic backstory" list! Little demon girl is found in the woods by an adventurer and of course he takes her in after some back and forth. He's 100% Maes Hughes here with 1000% less death! It's so cute! It gets kinda weird towards the end tho, very "I'm gonna marry the man who took me in and raised me" vibes which is, imo, very bad. I HOPE it doesn't fall into that trap but, c'est la vie. Overall, kinda boring, but the dub let me finish making a crochet tank top I've been ignoring so it gets a score boost. 8.5/10.

(7/15) That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (Dub): Heads up, the Sub is on the Crunchyroll but the Dub is on Funimation but I have both so I get to watch both! Season 2 (part 2) is just now being released due to Covid so I'm happy to watch the series again. I'm actually really pleased by the Dub, the Sub was so good I thought it wouldn't compare but nope! Still good! What got me into the Isekai genre tbh. 10/10 I bought the Light Novels lmao save me

(7/17) Ace Attorney: Is Miles Edgeworth Does Gay? I own the anniversary edition of the games and haven't played more than a few hours so I binged the anime and now I'm 10 levels of Miles/Phoenix hell. Gay as shit. Funny, ngl, but I'm now obsessed with the fact that Japan's court system is corrupt as hell, I say OBJECTION in my daily life, and I found out the San Francisco Newspaper agrees with me. Life is wild sometimes. 8.5/10

(7/18) Beastars (S2): I watched the first season years ago ironically and then ended up really liking it. Story of my life. S2 came out the day of and I binged it with my younger bro and loved it AGAIN. Like... dude. 9/10 because honestly? Im gonna be recovering from the consensual leg mauling. CONSENSUAL. MAULING.

(7/26) Saga of Tanya the Evil: Set in a fantasy WWI, this Isekai features a capitalist who spoke to god and said "I'm an atheist" to which god said "Fuck you in particular". You love to hate Tanya and at some point it kinda clicks that although this character IS a sadist, mean, in no way nice and kinda evil, you start seeing the moments where they're very human start click into place. It's fascinating seeing this as almost a character study of Lawful Evil characters, but I think of this more as a palate cleanser for more Good Guys later in your media consumption. Just never read the comments that are with the series because you will regret it. 9/10.

(7/27) The Rising of the Shield Hero: I'm gonna be real if you're the type to get hung up on if things are too problematic to enjoy you'll probably not enjoy this. I'm not knocking people for doing so, just that the MC here LITERALLY has two slaves, he bought from a slaver, whom is not shown as an evil character in the series. And for some godforsaken reason the one time the slaves are released is framed as a bad thing????? I can't get over this tbh. I hate to admit this is one of the most fascinating and interesting and honestly fresh feeling isekai/anime I've seen in a hot minute. But it's got SLAVERY. It's whack. I can't wait for season 2. 9/10.

Manga:

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[feverdreamfantasies]

The Birthday Gift

Pairing: Human!Hoseok x Human!Yoongi x Human!Reader, Snow Leopard Shifter!Jimin x Human!Reader

Featuring: German Shepherd Hybrid!Taehyung, Doberman Hybrid!Namjoon, Neighbor!Jungkook, (Jin to make an appearance later)

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Poly AU, eventual Smut, Producer!Yoongi, Scientist!Hoseok

Warnings: Brief mention of blood, Mention of Hybrid abuse, Some adult language, Mentions of a poly relationship between M x M x F

Summary:  “Hobi! What is he?” Yoongi repeats himself looking from me in the corner over to his boyfriend.

“He’s a shifter.” Hoseok mumbles, hand rising to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“He’s a shifter! Okay.  I adopted our girlfriend a shifter for her birthday.”

Author’s Notes:   This was an idea I’ve had in my head for a little while and I thought I would go ahead and start writing it. Also since this is the first chapter there’s a lot of background information in this one but moving forward there will be less filler and hopefully more story line progression. Hope you enjoy!

Next

Chapter One:  The ultimate Birthday gift             

Sometimes I wonder how I got here in my life. 

After nearly 5 years of being with Yoongi, I thought I was prepared for anything, but standing here in our neighbor Jungkook’s living room watching his sweet arctic fox hybrid, Sooyun, turn into the vicious predator she truly is; I began to question the choices I’d made that lead me here.

Let me backup a little bit to how I came to witness the scene before me. I was quietly having breakfast earlier this morning when Hoseok made his way loudly down the staircase that led into the kitchen. 

“Have you seen your boyfriend?” He asked with an emphasis on “your”, clearly perturbed with the man in question.

“What’s he done now that makes him ‘my’ boyfriend?” I say while taking a bite of my toast. 

For all the time I have been in a relationship with Yoongi, Hoseok has been with him longer.  The two met in their first year at university and began dating shortly there after.  I came along about four years later, back when I was a shy, young intern for the music company Yoongi was—and is still— a big time producer for.  

I had heard rumors when I first started there that he had a bit of a different romantic life than most. Everyone loved to whisper about the open relationship he and his boyfriend supposedly had. I tried not to listen to the rumors, but I couldn’t deny the big fat crush I had developed on Yoongi either.  I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest every time he walked into the same room as me.  And when he asked me out for drinks one day, all I could do was nod in response because I didn’t have the courage to give a verbal yes. 

I was nervous and apprehensive about possibly going on a date with an already taken man.  But my curiosity got the best of me and I showed up to the bar he had suggested.  He was sweet and kind to me. Being patient with my quietness until I warmed up enough to be able to contribute to our conversation.  

He was also very straightforward and honest with me.  

“I know there are rumors about my personal life in the office.” He stated matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his jack and coke before continuing. “So I’ll admit that I’m kind of surprised you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear, a nervous habit of mine that brings me an artificial level of comfort.  “To be honest” I swallow “I’m not really sure I was even going to show up.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” He said with his adorable gummy smile.

“And to be upfront about everything, the rumors are true. I do have a boyfriend, and we are in a serious, committed relationship.”

I raise my eyebrows at this. 

“I know what you're thinking.  So then why would I ask a beautiful woman like you out on a date if I’m already spoken for?” 

My heart speeds up when I hear him use the word beautiful.  He leans across the high top table we are sat at, so he can speak lower and not have the other customers at the bar listen in.  

“Hobi and I have always been open to the concept of a polymorphic relationship. We’ve tried in the past with potential romantic partners; but they usually ended up ghosting on one of us, once they figured out what we were looking for.”

“So why do you think I’ll be different?” I question finding some confidence in my voice.  Afterall, it isn’t like Yoongi is talking about some small, trivial thing.  He’s openly discussing with me the potential of starting a romantic journey with him and his boyfriend.  Journey being the only way I can truly describe it because honestly what if this actually became something, what do I say to my parents then? “Mom. Dad.  Meet my boyfriend Yoongi and his boyfriend--slash my other boyfriend--Hoseok.” 

Yeah...this was most certainly going to be a journey.

“Honestly, I’m not sure you will be.  But I like you, Y/N. And from what I’ve told Hoseok so far, he’s interested too.”

I snort at this response.  What possibly could I have done to get Yoongi’s attention that he’d like me, let alone know anything about me enough to want to tell his boyfriend.

“Up until tonight, I’ve barely said anything to you.” I state to the dark haired man across from me.

Yoongi shrugs at this like it doesn’t matter.  “People speak louder with their actions than with their words.”

“Yeah?  And what do my actions say about me?” I ask genuinely.

He doesn’t miss a beat with his response.

 “You’re smart without being pretentious.  You have confidence without arrogance.  And most importantly you’re kind.”

“I’m kind?”

Yoongi nods. 

“A couple of weekends ago I saw you inside the hybrid rescue downtown.  I was going to go in and say hi, but thought that might intimidate you a little bit.” 

He says this last part with a laugh, as my cheeks turn red from the fact I know that would have been true.

“I asked one of your fellow interns, Ilsung, about it.  He said you volunteer there whenever you can.  That you have a real soft spot for hybrids and their rights. Not many people are as compassionate to their causes.  And as someone who has had the honor to adopt two myself, I’m really drawn to others who want to make a difference for them.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m making a difference.” I say sheepishly. “But when I was a kid we had a family cat hybrid named Wendy.  She and I did everything together until they came and took her away when we were both 12.  And let’s just say that made an impact on me.”

When my parents were kids, hybrids were just starting to be introduced to society.  But years prior to that, governments and militaries had been creating and breeding hybrids for years as an experiment to get a defensive edge when it came to warfare. It proved not to be as promising as they had hoped and what ended up happening is they sold their hybrids and hybrid secrets to the highest bidder, which turned out to be a large corporatation.  This corporation in turn introduced cat and dog hybrids to the rest of the world.  Claiming that they were a step above your average household pet and could provide a more fulfilling companion experience.  Hybrids quickly became a hot commodity.  And the black market was soon taking off with their own hybrid creations of more exotic and “dangerous” hybrid breeds.  Soon the hybrids were beginning to outnumber humans 2 to 1 and fear of who they are and what they can do began to take over.

Laws were passed as a means to protect humans. Rather than create laws that stopped the unethical treatment and breeding of hybrids, they were created to limit their rights.  Not completely human but also not completely an animal either, hybrids fell in a category with many blurbed lines.  The laws state all hybrids must have an owner and must either be accompanied by that owner at all times or have a microchip implanted within the back of their necks that can be scanned to indicate they belong to someone.  Any strays were in extreme cases euthanized and in less extreme cases placed in overcrowded shelters and rescue centers, where they would more than likely spend the rest of their lives.  

For those who did get adopted or were bought by breeders, their lives may not be as lucky as those who did not.  It isn’t uncommon for those hybrids adopted to end up in underground hybrid clubs.  These clubs offer humans all sorts of sick fantasies to play out with hybrids.  This can be anything from deadly hybrid fight rings to hybrid brothels where they can use and abuse any female and male hybrids of their choosing. In my time volunteering at the rescue center, I have listened to stories I wouldn’t even wish for my worst enemies to have to endure. 

“Wendy came into my life when on my 5th birthday.  My Mom and Dad had decided I needed a companion.  As an only child with parents who weren't able to have any more kids, my parents thought adopting a hybrid could be the next best thing.  But the year we both turned 12, is the year Wendy started to go through her changes.”

Yoongi listened to my story with great intensity.  

“Of course as humans we all go through puberty between the ages of 11 and 18.  This isn’t uncommon for hybrids either except their changes aren’t typically of the reproductive kind until later in their late teens and early twenties, but what they do change in is behavior.  Their animal instincts can have the potential to become more dominant, leading to aggressiveness and in some cases violence.

When Wendy and I were playing outside one day, a neighbor's hybrid wandered into our backyard where we were.  He looked to be some small wild cat hybrid, probably bought in some shady back room of an outdoor market.  He was around our age if not a little bit older.  He’s name was Yongho and he could hear our laughs from inside his house.  He asked if he could play with us, saying he was lonely being cooped up inside all day.  I was glad to have another person to play with so I said yes immediately without noticing that Wendy was apprehensive.  Her tail was flicking side to side and ears were slightly pinned back, but I thought that was only because she may be jealous of having some of my attention shared with another hybrid.  I chose to ignore her warning signs and suggested a game of tag.

It all seemed to be going fine.  At first I was ‘it’ and although they were both faster than me, Yongho decided to slow down so I could catch him.  But once he was ‘it’ that’s when everything would change to become one of the worst days of my life.”

I paused so I could take a sip of my drink to try and calm myself down.  I hadn’t thought of this day in a really long time and I was struck by the fact that I was so easily sharing it with Yoongi when not even most of my close friends knew what had happened.  Yoongi reached across the table and gently rubbed his thumb over my hand to encourage me to keep going.  

I cleared my throat.

“Because Yongho was a predator hybrid, a game of tag can quickly turn into a dangerous game of cat and mouse.  When Wendy and I ran off in opposite directions after getting a 10-second head start that’s when Yongho’s animal instincts kicked in.  As a slow and small human girl, I became easy prey to the hunter and Yongho began to come after me.  Naive to noticing that anything had changed, I giggled as I tried to dodge around the trees in our backyard to create obstacles between us.  And when I turned around to see how close he was that’s when I saw the predatory look in his eyes.  I gave a small but effective scream which in turn caught the attention of Wendy.  She halted in the direction she was going before quickly turning around.  I in the meantime froze out of fear.  Yongho slowed but didn’t stop moving toward me.  He staked his way closer in the same way you would see a lioness do through the brush on a nature show before she pounced on an antelope.  And unfortunately for me, I was that antelope.  Just as Yongho pounced with claws out, Wendy intercepted him and they both tumbled to the ground, rolling around and making animalistic noises I had never heard before.  

This got the attention of my mother.  Who once she came outside to see what was happening began yelling for my dad.  He ran out and grabbed me.  Easily picking me up and throwing me inside the house ordering me to lock the door and telling my mother to call HES (hybrid emergency services).  My dad tried to get Yongho off of Wendy when he had managed to pin her to the ground while I burst into tears once the adrenaline started to wear off.  HES showed up quickly, but not fast enough to stop Wendy from accidentally scratching my dad.  She was aiming for Yongho when my father’s arm got in the way and left a deep wound along his forearm which instantly began to bleed.  Because hybrid laws take all cases of violence toward a human seriously, HES not only took Yongho away but they also took Wendy.  My father spent the next several weeks in court trying to get her back saying she had scratched him with no ill intention but they wouldn’t listen.  The only thing they could offer was for us to send her off to a reform facility, where she would spend the next three years, in hopes that maybe once she had gone through the proper reform training then she would be able to come home.  My parents agreed to send her off, but 6 months after she arrived they claimed she had ran away, only to find out in the news a few years later that this reform facility was secretly selling desirable hybrids off to private sellers and the black market.  I haven’t seen her since.”

Things between us got really quiet after I told my story.  Yoongi continued to rub my hand before noticing that my eyes were watery.  Tears threatening to come cascading down.  He sprung into action and leapt off his stool scooping me up into a hug. 

“I’m so sorry” he whispered.  

I could hear the sincerity in his voice and felt overwhelmingly comforted within his embrace.  I thought right then and there that I never wanted him to let me go.  And I didn’t care if that meant I had to share him with someone else because at that moment it felt like I was always supposed to be his.

Shortly thereafter I met Hoseok face to face.  The three of us went on a date to a nice restaurant to see how we would all get along.  The date went exceptionally well, as did the next one, and the one after that.  After a couple months, the three of us went away for the weekend and discussed the next steps for our future.  It was decided that we would all move in together and start a relationship that would define my next five years. 

Looking over at Hobi now with his brows crossed and a mild look of exhaustion on his face.  I couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“He promised me he would come home last night so he could be here for your birthday this morning.”

“Yoongi is here.” I say. “Also nice of you to wish me a Happy Birthday.”

He rolled his eyes before walking over to me and kissing me on the forehead. “He didn’t come to bed last night.” He responds as he releases me.

“That’s because he came to my bed,” I say with a teasing grin.

Once we moved into this house, it was decided that Yoongi and Hoseok would share a room while I had my own.  I didn’t mind it much because Yoongi would often sneak into my bed once Hobi fell asleep.  Or if Yoongi was at the studio all night then one of our hybrids would cuddle up with me, especially Taehyung.

Speaking of which, the German Shepherd hybrid came bounding through the backdoor.  A smile on his face and a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in his hand.

“Happy Birthday Y/N!”

“I got you these!” He thrust the wildflowers toward me.  Tail wagging rapidly behind him.

“Thank you Tae.” I take the flowers from him smelling them in the process. “These are beautiful.”

He’s smile grows wider.  Taehyung was one of the two hybrids Hoseok and Yoongi had adopted before I joined their family. Well adopted was not really the correct term to use.  Hoseok worked as a scientist for the government.  And though they had supposedly moved on from the hybrid world, the three of us knew that wasn’t true.  Hoseok started working there right out of college.  Initially he was told he was there for human medical purposes, specifically in terms of medicine and vaccine studies.  However, while that was mostly true, Hoseok discovered one day by accident that there were also medical experiments being done on hybrids in ways that they would never imagine doing to humans.

From that moment on, Hoseok took it upon himself to make changes but he’d have to climb his way to the top in order to make any real change.  Now being the second in command to the head of the medical research team, Hobi had more privileges to know what happened in the hybrid labs but still didn’t have full command of what went on in there.  But that didn’t stop him from managing to rescue a couple in the process.

I didn’t really know all that had happened to Taehyung and Namjoon--our Doberman hybrid--while they were in that lab, but I knew that it made them respond to things in opposite ways.  Taehyung was clingy and loveable.  Namjoon was a little standoffish at first but if I played my cards right he could be putty in my hands.

“Where do you want to eat tonight?” Hobi asked.

“You guys aren’t going to make me a homemade meal.” I whine.

“If you want food poisoning then I would be more than happy to make you whatever you would like.  Or if you don’t mind eating until almost 2 in the morning then I’ll ask Yoongi what he wants to make tonight.”

I stick my tongue out at him.  I hate his reasoning sometimes.

“In that case, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“We all know that you’ll choose the same place you always do.” A sleepy Yoongi says with a yawn.  His hair slightly sticking up in the back indicating he had just climbed out of bed. 

He walks over to me, sliding into the booth of our breakfast nook and kisses me gently. 

“Happy Birthday Princess.” He says in his deep groggy voice.

“I’m surprised you're up already.” I state as I fed him some of my breakfast.  He takes a bite and swallows before responding.  

“Someone made a pretty severe threat of laundry duty if I didn’t show up this morning. And we all know if I’m on laundry duty for a full month, we will all be deeply sorry.”

We enjoy the rest of our morning with happy banter and cuddles on the couch.  With a momentary appearance from Namjoon with a quick Birthday greeting before he went on his jog.

As I flipped through the options on Netflix with Tae asleep with his head in my lap, Hoseok’s phone rang which he picked up and answered in his office down the hall.  Yoongi and I gave a brief glance at each other figuring it was probably from work before Hoseok quickly ran out of his office and out the front door as though the house was on fire.  

We look at each other again before quickly getting off the couch to follow him.  Taehyung whines in protest as he loses the warmth of my lap before climbing back onto the couch and quickly falling back asleep.  

Hoseok goes over to our neighbor’s house, lifting his arm up to knock on the door when Jungkook opens it with a “Thank God!”

“I thought you said he’d be fine here.” Hoseok says as he follows Jungkook into his living space noticing the low growls of Sooyun coming from within.  He hesitates a moment before seeing why Sooyun is making that noise.

He quickly gets his answer as he sees Sooyun with teeth bared at a cowering figure in the corner.  He realizes her aggression is toward his Birthday gift for Y/N.  While he knew that Y/N was easily loved by Taehyung and Namjoon, they weren’t necessarily her hybrids.  Tae belonged to Yoongi and Namjoon was Hoseok’s, who he adopted at the first chance after that fateful day he walked into the hybrid lab by accident.  So he figured Y/N needed her own companion and it gave him an excuse to bring home another rescue.

“Well aren’t you going to do something.” He says to Jungkook, calmer than he felt. 

“Me?  He’s your hybrid.” Jungkook says incredulously.

“Technically he isn’t a hybrid.” 

“Then what is he?”  Yoongi says behind Hobi, scaring his younger boyfriend in the process.  I stand beyond them watching Jungkook’s normally sweet hybrid looking like the true predator she is before moving my eyes to the other hybrid--or rather not hybrid--sitting in the corner with his knees up to his chest.  My heart instantly breaks at the sight in front of me and I feel the need to protect him.

“Hey! Enough.” 

My voice is loud and clear.  Commanding but not violent, just enough to get Sooyun’s attention.  A skill I learned at all my years volunteering at the rescue. She backs away and hides behind Jungkook as though she hadn’t done anything wrong to be treated this way.  Jungkook pats the hand she rests on his arm, clutching onto his shirt sleeve. White ears pinned back to her equally pure white hair.

I take that time to move to her victim. Taking slow movements making sure not to scare him even more. “Hello.” I say getting him to look up at me with his light grey eyes.  He has soft features but an intense gaze.  I reach my hand out to help him off the floor.  He hesitates before deciding to trust me and stands up into his full height.  He isn’t large but he is taller than me, about the same size as Yoongi. 

“Hobi! What is he?” Yoongi repeats himself looking from me in the corner over to his boyfriend.

“He’s a shifter.” Hoseok mumbles, hand rising to scratch the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“He’s a shifter! Okay.  I adopted our girlfriend a shifter for her birthday.”

It gets suddenly very quiet. I look back over at the shifter in question, his hand still in mine.  Yoongi is visibly getting angry, but still trying to remain somewhat calm.

“What the fuck is a shifter, Hobi?  Like a werewolf.  Did you bring home a werewolf?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Werewolves aren’t real.  He’s a snow leopard shifter.”

For the genius Hoseok actually was he could really do some dumb things, I think as Yoongi comes towards us and pulls me away but not with some resistance from the other person holding my hand. Yoongi drags me aways while also grabbing Hoseok by the shoulder to guide us outside.

Once we step into the front yard, Yoongi turns Hobi around to look at him but doesn’t let me go.

“You know you’ve done some stupid shit in the 9 years we’ve been together, but this might easily top the list.  I mean what the hell were you thinking!  Where do you even get a snow leopard shifter?”

“The same place I got Taehyung and Namjoon.  Just there was more paperwork involved and lots of background checks.  And possibly some surveillance on the house for a week or two.”  He throws the last part in quickly as though we won’t notice that he agreed to have us be watched by a government entity without getting our consent first.

“He’s going back.” 

“What?! No!”  This protest comes from me this time.  I don’t know what a shifter is, but I do know some of what happens in the labs and he isn’t going back if I have anything to say about it.

“Yes. He. Is.” Yoongi states, as though the decision is final and begins to walk back toward the house only to stop halfway when he realizes none of us are following.

“We can’t keep him.” He states again.

“But why not?” Hobi and I pout at the same time.

Usually if one of us goes against Yoongi we don’t stand a chance at winning, but if we team up together then things inevitably go our way.

“He’s probably dangerous. I mean I still don’t know what he really is.” He stares at Hoseok on this last point.

“Shifters are what the military attempted after the hybrid experiment failed.  Essentially, through their research they found that though hybrids are stronger than humans they still aren’t as strong as a real true animal.  But you can’t fully control or command an animal, especially not a predatory animal like a tiger or lion…”

“Or a snow leopard.” Yoongi offered.

“Right.  Anyways, there was a researcher about thirty years ago who thought what if you could create a breed of human that could, when needed, shift into full animal form.  Lots of people laughed at him for this, but that didn’t stop him from running experiments on his own before a top personnel in the government decided to back him on his research.  It didn’t take him long, about five years before he got his first successful generation of shifters. Listen, I know you don’t like it Yoongi and you probably think he’s dangerous.  But he’s been kept in that lab his whole life.  And I promise you that we have nothing to fear with him.  In fact, shifters are much safer than hybrids.”  Hoseok added as a last minute plea.

Yoongi  slowly let out a sigh.  “Fine. But…” he quickly adds before Hobi and I get too excited. “If anything happens to a member of our household because of him, then he has to go somewhere else.”

“You have my word that nothing will happen.”

I grab Yoongi and Hobi into a hug in my excitement.  “So what’s his name?”

“Jimin.”

[thatsgay-writes]

Azula x Reader

Summary: You join Azula and help take over Ba Sing Se, plus some added fluff.

Warnings: Light cursing?

(You are a female.)

You never agreed with the Fire Nations beliefs. You didn't think they deserved to rule the world. You were Admiral Zhao's kid and were meant to take his spot when he died. Because of your dads high rank and age similarity with Azula, you two trained together. And maybe that's why you couldn't leave... God knows you wanted to and you had so many chances to do so. But you had grown up with Azula, seen what she had gone through. All she ever wanted was at least a sliver of the love her mom had given Zuko. When your dad disappeared you took over his role as Admiral. Azula was annoyed that you were now being shipped out with a bunch of soldiers to do her fathers dirty work. So she pulled you in to one final mission with her and her friends.

Dressed up as a Kyoshi warrior was weird. You wondered how they even fought in these ridiculous get ups. You also felt that the make up was a little over the top. But they must be doing something right too, because Azula could not stop staring at you. Yeah she used to stare at you before, but when you would look at her she would just smirk and look away. Now though, when you looked, she would blatantly check you out, looking you up and down, before biting her lip and looking away. And if your blush had been bad before you were sure it was worse now, not even the make up could hide it. You had always felt something more towards the princess than friendship but kept it to yourself not wanting to get on the Fire Lords bad side or even Azula's. But these past few days have you thinking that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same.

You watched in shock as Aang, the avatar, rose up in his avatar state. You looked around frantically for Azula in case you needed to make a quick get away. When you finally saw her, she was standing behind the avatar, you watched in shock again as she sent lightning right into the avatars back. You cringed as the lightning shocked him and caused him to smoke as he fell to the ground. Then you hear yelling come from behind you to see a giant wave come up from behind and wash everyone away. When you got hit by the wave you panicked for a moment trying to find something to grab onto before you felt yourself get pulled up. You put your arms around the neck of whoever pulled you up, as they put there arms around your waist and pulled you closer to them. When you looked up, you were surprised to see that Azula was the one holding you. She was sporting a huge grin while watching Katara take Aang out and away from the battlefield. When she finally looked down and saw you looking at her, her smile softened a bit before taking a hand from your waist and using it to move the hair out of your face. You blushed at the action before hearing people moving behind you. You hastily pulled away from Azula at the noise, knowing that she wouldn't want to be caught in a compromising position.

Azula stood in front of the earth kings throne as she and Long Feng had a stare off. You stood next to the throne, a little nervous. You believed in Azula fully but Long Feng was a wild card and you didn't like wild cards. However, you relaxed when you watched Azula sit on the throne and Long Feng bow. She ordered them all to leave before she grabbed your hand and made you stand in front of the throne and her. You looked at her questioningly before she pulled you into her lap, causing you to blush and look down. Azula chuckled at the action before putting her finger under your chin and lifting it. "Now that I've captured Ba Sing Se, I feel as if I deserve a reward." You looked at her in confusion causing her to scoff. "Don't look so confused. You act as if I haven't caught you staring or let you catch me staring. Honestly, waiting for you to make the first move has been such a bore." Your eyes widen in shock as your realize that she felt the same way, you honestly thought her and Ty Lee and a thing going on. When Azula realized that you weren't going to move, she took matters into her own hands and gripped your chin harder before pulling you into a kiss. When your lips connected you lost your breath. You had imagined kissing Azula many times but none were as good as this. You had expected her lips to be chapped but your surprise they were smooth and had a light taste of cherry. You don't think you could every look at cherries the same way again.

"Ahem." You heard from your right, causing you and Azula to pull away. You eyes widen at the sight of Zuko standings there, arms crossed in front of his chest. "I need to speak to Azula... alone." He stated barely giving you a second glance. Azula sighed before standing up, with you now being carried on her front. "You always were a cock block, weren't you Zuzu." She said rolling her eyes as she placed you down in on the throne. "I'll be right back to celebrate and get more of my reward." She winked before turning around to walk away with Zuko. Leaving you a blushing mess sitting in the throne.

Before heading back to the fire nation Azula decided to take you on a date. You and her hadn't really talked about your relationship status since your first kiss but you had started sleeping in her room since that day. She decided to take you to the newer zoo in the putter ring. (The one that Aang made in that episode with all those short stories) To say you were excited was an understatement, you loved animals. Of course you never told anyone this, not wanting it to make you seem weak. But Azula knew all about your secret obsession, she may or may not have read your journal/diary. Azula made sure that she had guards blocking the entrance/exit to the zoo to not let anyone in. As much as she enjoyed keeping of the façade of a cold hearted bitch, not that it was hard, she wanted to truly relax and be herself. Azula truly trusted you and knew you would never leave if betray her. So she spent the whole day being herself with you. When you would get excited and start practically jumping up and down, she'd hold your hand in hope to calm you down. When you'd lean on the half wall to try and see the animals better she'd come up behind you, wrap her arms around your waist and lean her chin on your shoulder. You loved this side of Azula and you knew that when your back in public it would all end. So you spent the day holding her hand, cuddling in to her as you walked, kissing her. Anything you knew would become scarce once you were back in the real world.

Sadly, everything come to an end. You didn't want the day to be over. You were having so much fun. As you walking towards the exit of the zoo Azula stopped suddenly. You turned around to look at her in confusion. "Azula is everything..." "Be mine." Azula interrupts you. You know she meant it as a question but it came out as more of a command. You raised an eyebrow at her in response. "I... don't do that to me... you know what I meant" she rolls her eyes before trying again, "Will you be mine?" This time you smiled happily before pulling her into a kiss. You tried to kiss her as long as possible but you couldn't stop smiling. "Of course."

*Time Skip*

Zuko barged into Azula's room, letting shock wash over his face as he noticed you laying next to her. Zuko opens his mouth to yell before seeing Azula put up a hand to stop him. She slowly and as carefully as possible, untangled herself from you before walking out into the hall and closing the door behind Zuko. "What do you want?" She asked already annoyed with Zuko interruption. Zuko wanted to ask about what was going on between you and his sister but refrained, seeing as Azula was already so pissed. "You told dad I killed the avatar. Why? What do you gain from this?" Azula smirked at her older brother. "You've been trying to get into dads good graces again. You've returned home a hero. You have been going after the avatar for all these years. You might as well be the one claim his death. Besides what does it matter the avatar is dead now anyways. If he wasn't though... dad wouldn't be happy." Azula ends her sentence with a cheeky smile. Zuko tried to suppress his emotions. He sent Azula a glare before opening his mouth to respond. But before he could they both heard the door next to them creek open. "Azula?" You mumbled out, trying to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. "The bed got cold. I looked around and... oh" you said ending your sentence, just now noticing Zuko standing across from Azula. Azula smiled at you before turning back to Zuko, "As much as I'm enjoying our little... conversation, I am needed elsewhere." Azula turned away from Zuko, not even letting him respond, before picking you up, walking into her room and closing the door behind you. She laid you back on to the bed before going around to her side and climbing in. Almost immediately you latch on to her and fall right back asleep. Azula spend a few minutes admiring you as you sleep before closing her eyes with a smile on her face, hoping to dream about a future with you.

[gusu-emilu]

thermal scheming

Ship: Jiang Cheng / Nie Huaisang

Summary: When Jiang Cheng joined this camping trip, he didn’t realize it would mean sleeping in the same tent as Nie Huaisang. Now it’s nighttime, and Nie Huaisang won’t stop complaining that he’s cold. Apparently he expects Jiang Cheng to do something about it.

Modern AU, Sharing a Bed (except it’s a sleeping bag) - read on AO3

* * *

“Jiang Cheng.”

Good grief.

He ignores the voice, instead focusing on the chirping of crickets in the forest outside the tent walls.

“Jiang Cheng.”

He opens his eyes. He is lying on his back in his sleeping bag, hands folded over his chest. His fingers dig into his knuckles in irritation.

The cramped tent space was pitch black when he closed his eyes a few minutes ago, but now there’s a faint, cool light coming from the screen of a phone. He furrows his brow at this unwanted brightness.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“What?”

“I’m cold.”

It’s really too unlucky that his tentmate is Nie Huaisang, one of the chattiest people to come on this camping trip. Sure, not as bad as Wei Wuxian, but at least his brother he can hit over the head and be done with.

Yet after so many years, Jiang Cheng still hasn’t figured out how to handle this babbler that he now shares a tent with.

“Jiang Cheng, I’m cold.”

“The hell you telling me for?”

“So that you feel bad for me.”

Jiang Cheng finally looks over at the sleeping bag next to him, where Nie Huaisang is huddled in a ball. Only his eyes and forehead peek out from under the covers. Jiang Cheng ignores how endearing the sight is.

Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Not gonna happen.” He turns away and closes his eyes again.

It’s a lie, though. For some reason, lately it’s been difficult to bring himself to brush off Nie Huaisang.

He hasn’t enjoyed the skittish young man latching to his side during the camping trip, coaxing him to eat sweets at breakfast and pointing him to every bird they see on the hiking trips and nervously brushing shoulders with him at the sight of just about every other wild animal. Or telling him absurd stories that force him to hide his laughter, or deliberately sabotaging him in card games and spikeball, or pushing him every time he lies on the hammock.

No, he hasn’t enjoyed the attention.

But he hasn’t made much effort to stop it.

Well, it’s only because he’s too tired. Camping wears Jiang Cheng out, especially with this crew of imbeciles. Even though he didn’t originally agree to come on the trip, now it’s him doing all the work—setting up the tents, cleaning the boats, cooking dinners. Everyone else is as lazy as Wei Wuxian.

Except for the few times that Nie Huaisang actually volunteered to help Jiang Cheng, even though he normally refuses to raise a finger in manual labor.

But that’s probably because he was scared of angering Nie Mingjue.

“Jiang Cheng? Can’t you have some pity on me? It’s freezing!”

“It’s not that cold,” Jiang Cheng snaps. It’s summer, after all. The nights are chilly, but not unbearable.

“You’re not cold?” Nie Huaisang asks.

“No.”

Why is Jiang Cheng even bothering to keep up the conversation? His entire body is heavy, longing for sleep. Today’s lengthy canoeing trip has sapped a lot of his energy.

“Er…what are you wearing?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes snap open. He looks over again at the mousy figure cocooned in the sleeping bag.

Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows dart up. “Well, um—it’s just, if you’re not cold, I’m wondering how—”

“I’m in sweats,” Jiang Cheng says flatly.

“Ah, hm. Well, you see, I’m only…” He lifts an index finger out from under the covers. “I’m only wearing a T-shirt and boxers.”

“Then put on more clothes and stop complaining.”

The entire sleeping bag wriggles. “That’s the problem! I left my backpack in Da-ge’s car!”

“So go get it!”

Nie Huaisang shakes his head, but half of his face is hidden by the sleeping bag, so Jiang Cheng just sees a pair of eyes floating back and forth like haunted lights. “No, no, I can’t wake up Da-ge!”

If they continue this whisper-shouting, they will wake up the entire campsite anyway.

Nie Huaisang lowers his voice to speak slowly and melodically, like he’s singing one of Wei Wuxian’s stupid campfire songs. “Jiang Cheng…do you have a sweatshirt I can borrow?”

Why didn’t he just ask this instead of dragging Jiang Cheng through an entire saga before getting to the point?

“No. I only brought two hoodies, and you can blame Lan Xichen for dropping one of them in the mud when I just asked him to hold it for five seconds. I’m wearing the other.”

“Oh. Well, that’s unfortunate.”

Finally, silence. The sound of nothing but peaceful crickets.

Nie Huaisang should be done now.

“Jiang Cheng?”

Apparently not. He sighs. “What now?”

“Can I have the hoodie you’re wearing?”

For a disturbing moment, Jiang Cheng actually wants to give it to him.

It’s precisely because of that thought that now he must refuse. “Just steal Nie Mingjue’s car keys and get your own clothes.”

Nie Huaisang groans. “But I’ll be even colder if I go outside! And I’ve spent so much time warming up my sleeping bag with the tiny bit of heat my poor body has left. By the time I get my stuff and come back, my sleeping bag will be cold again, and I’ll have to start all over!”

Jiang Cheng rubs his temples. “How long could it possibly take? Two minutes? Your sleeping bag is not going to get cold in two minutes.”

“Yes it will! And then I’ll be so sad!”

Jiang Cheng rolls on his side with his back to Nie Huaisang and pulls the covers over his ears.

Everything his tentmate is saying is completely idiotic.

Yet Jiang Cheng is feeling something…soft about it.

Disgusting. Maybe if he clenches his fists hard enough it will go away.

“Er, can you…Can you come in my sleeping bag and keep it warm while I go get my backpack?”

Jiang Cheng bolts upright. He grimaces at this horrifying request. “Absolutely not!”

Nie Huaisang finally lowers the covers to fully expose his face. As if showing his little nose and chin would make Jiang Cheng any more likely to agree.

“Please? You’re already sitting up now, you might as well do it. Please? Please?”

“No!”

The sleeping bag squirms again. “But if you don’t keep it warm, then when I come back with my sweatshirt, it won’t even matter because I’ll be even colder than I was before!”

Jiang Cheng pauses. If he gives Nie Huaisang a reason to complain for longer, even if it’s a ridiculous, obviously made-up reason, then Jiang Cheng will never get to sleep.

His lip curls with distaste at what he’s about to do—crap, is he actually about to do something this humiliating?—and a strange fuzziness fills his chest.

“Fine. Better be quick,” he says through clenched teeth. He intended to have an edge in his voice, but somehow it’s barely there.

“Thank you so much! Oh, thank you! You’re the best!” Nie Huaisang scampers out of the sleeping bag and waits in front of the door flap of the tent. He crosses his arms and shivers as he stares at Jiang Cheng expectantly.

Muttering curses to himself, Jiang Cheng crawls over to the empty sleeping back and slips inside.

He catches a grin from Nie Huaisang before turning his head away in shame. He hears the zipper of the tent open, then the sound of quick, fading footsteps.

This sleeping bag is, in fact, colder than Jiang Cheng’s. Maybe Nie Huaisang wasn’t exaggerating as much as it seemed.

An odd satisfaction swells inside Jiang Cheng at the idea of his body heat keeping Nie Huaisang warm.

He nearly chokes.

What is he thinking?!

He clenches the covers tight in his fists.

It hasn’t even been thirty seconds when Nie Huaisang scurries back into the tent. Jiang Cheng repositions to look up at him. He’s still only wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers, and in his hands there are no car keys, no backpack, and no sweatshirt.

“What are you doing back already?”

“It’s too cold outside!”

Suddenly, the covers lift, then fall, and there’s a body pressed against Jiang Cheng.

Nie Huaisang.

In the same.

Sleeping bag.

As him.

Panic.

Sheer panic courses through Jiang Cheng like a lightning strike.

“Hell no! Get out!” He shoves the body that’s squished into him, but there’s no room for either of them to move.

“It’s my sleeping bag!” Nie Huaisang says.

“Yeah, but now I’m in it!”

“So stay in it!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Jiang Cheng tries to force his way out, but the sleeping bag only opens on one side—the side Nie Huaisang is blocking—and now their limbs are even further entangled.

He pulls his arms away and tries to slither out the top, but that only makes his hips rub into the body next to him, and that is not okay.

“Jiang Cheng, please just keep me warm,” Nie Huaisang whispers as he tucks his hands into his chest to avoid touching Jiang Cheng again.

Jiang Cheng stops squirming. Every one of his muscles becomes rigid.

He is grateful that Nie Huaisang’s slender fingers aren’t groping him anymore, but his entire person is still snuggled into the same sleeping bag.

Jiang Cheng shifts his jaw back and forth trying to squeeze words up his throat. “Take my hoodie instead,” he manages to choke out.

Nie Huaisang’s drowsy eyes drop their gaze, as if hiding. “Well. Um. Would just your hoodie be enough, though?”

“…You’re not getting my sweatpants.”

A breathy laugh tickles Jiang Cheng’s neck. “That’s not what I meant.”

Then what does he mean?

This is the most confusing situation Jiang Cheng has ever been in. How do the two of them even fit in the sleeping bag? Why is there a dizziness churning in his head? Why are his hands itching like he wants to put them somewhere—on someone?

“This is weird.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes wander up to meet Jiang Cheng’s. He looks like a puppy. “Do you want me to let you out?”

His throat closes up.

He should say yes.

Why can’t he?

Nie Huaisang leans away. “I’m, um, I’m sorry,” he says with a hint of dejection. He fiddles with the flap of the sleeping bag. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t be dumb.”

Some kind of restraint breaks inside of Jiang Cheng, as if a net around his thoughts has been cut loose.

Nie Huaisang stops dead. “Huh?”

Jiang Cheng fumbles over what to say next. Strange feelings are flooding into him, but he can’t decipher them. He decides to just block them out, as he usually prefers to do when it comes to emotions.

“If you freeze in the night, your brother will kill me,” Jiang Cheng says with as much authoritativeness as he can muster. “That’s the only reason I’m staying here. You got that?”

Nie Huaisang wriggles back onto his side to face Jiang Cheng, gaping at him in wonder. His hands are still clutched into his chest trying not to make contact, but they end up nudging against Jiang Cheng’s torso anyway.

“Yes, yes, I’ve got it, I’ve got it perfect!” Nie Huaisang’s head bobs up and down, then rests on the cushion next to Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

They remain motionless like this until Jiang Cheng is about to explode from the awkwardness.

Nie Huaisang lifts his head an inch. “Er, Jiang Cheng?”

“What?”

He rubs his chin and smiles sheepishly. “I’m still cold.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

“I’m already in the same sleeping bag as you! That’s enough! What more do you expect me to do?”

“Hmm,” Nie Huaisang hums as he trails a finger along Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

Jiang Cheng’s entire body freezes at the touch.

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang says. “I really don’t know.”

The feathery touch creeps up to his collarbone. Jiang Cheng flinches, then it slinks down to his bicep, teasing him, encircling him. There is a devilish glint in Nie Huaisang’s eyes that Jiang Cheng has never seen before.

“Can you think of something, gege?”

His brain shuts down.

All he’s aware of is a fire growing in his belly.

It urges to consume. To blaze everything into in cinders.

Jiang Cheng’s breath deepens as he struggles to regain control of his mind and extinguish the fire inside him. That finger is creeping up to his neck again. He grabs Nie Huaisang’s wrist to stop the unbearable touch.

They lock gazes. The devious look on Nie Huaisang’s face disappears into nervousness, as if he realizes that he’s pushed Jiang Cheng too far.

This entire trip, Nie Huaisang has been pushing him too far.

“You’re cold?” Jiang Cheng growls.

Nie Huaisang gulps. Jiang Cheng’s eyes hungrily follow the movement of his Adam’s apple.

“J-J-Just a little bit…”

A hand slowly snakes down to Jiang Cheng’s waist.

The flames inside Jiang Cheng erupt with desire. “Turn around.”

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Nie Huaisang’s face. Then the corners of his mouth twitch with delight, and he shifts his position, twisting the fabric of the sleeping bag, until he is facing the other way.

Jiang Cheng wraps his arms around Nie Huaisang and hugs him close, pressing Nie Huaisang’s back tightly into his chest. Nie Huaisang intertwines his arms with Jiang Cheng’s and melts into the embrace.

“Still cold?”

“Not at all.”

Jiang Cheng leans forward to hover his lips over Nie Huaisang’s ear, fighting the urge to nip at it with his teeth.

“Then I better not hear you say it again.”

Nie Huaisang shivers.

Satisfied, Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and holds Nie Huaisang tighter.

Jiang Cheng is not sure how long they stay like this.

At first, loud thoughts batter around his mind. Anger for allowing himself to become so vulnerable. Cravings to explore Nie Huaisang’s body with his hands. Memories that suddenly have a different meaning, reaching back to the first day they met as teenagers. Anxieties about what they feel for each other now, six years later, as they cuddle in the same sleeping bag.

Jiang Cheng has not felt this many emotions at once in a long time.

How…how did this even happen?

But after a while, it becomes peaceful. Jiang Cheng’s heart stops racing, and Nie Huaisang’s breaths slow down. The steady rise and fall of Nie Huaisang’s chest is soothing, comforting.

“You know,” Nie Huaisang says. “I was never cold in the first place.”

Jiang Cheng pulls away in surprise. “What?”

“Mmhm. I was just pretending.”

Pretending?

Jiang Cheng should be furious about being tricked, but somehow he’s grinning instead. “You little gremlin.”

Nie Huaisang spins around to face him. He pokes Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “No, no. That’s not right. You think I’m this sneaky all the time? Only for you. It should be ‘my little gremlin.’ Come on. Say it.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m saying that.” He tries to scowl, but he can’t stop smiling.

My? As in ‘mine?’

Something warm fizzles inside Jiang Cheng at this thought. He hates the feeling. He hates it so much.

Nie Huaisang pokes him in the cheek several more times.

“Stop.”

Now both of his hands are drumming over Jiang Cheng’s torso.

“Stop it!” Jiang Cheng laughs as he snatches Nie Huaisang’s hands and forces them to hold still.

Nie Huaisang sighs and drops his head onto the pillow, as if admitting defeat. His eyes are round and innocent, drawing in Jiang Cheng like they have their own gravity.

Then a foot pokes Jiang Cheng in the leg.

“Hey!” Jiang Cheng shoves his own feet into Nie Huaisang. “You wanna die?!”

Nie Huaisang smirks, the devilish twinkle returning to his eyes.

“Yes please.”

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3!

[opaljm]

eye of the tiger (m) | teaser – kth

➻ female reader x taehyung

➻ jagged spin-off + hybrid au + tiger!taehyung + giraffe/deer!reader + enemies to lovers + fake dating + minor inspiration from zootopia if you squint

➻ genres: angst, smut, romance

➻ length & status: 3k words; teaser

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; allusions to minor discrimination and prejudice; allusion to bullying

➻ summary: You had been bullied by Kim Taehyung in your youth and wanted to have nothing to do with him. But when your ex-boyfriend, a stag hybrid, kept dogging at your heels and Taehyung needed a girlfriend to stop the jaguar hybrid Jimin from growling every single time he got within 10 feet of his girlfriend, you find yourself agreeing to keep up the pretense that you and Taehyung were each other’s childhood crushes and had only recently reconnected and decided to date. 

➻ a/n: the Jagged sequel that exactly two people asked for.  enjoy this for now because i have no idea when i will be finishing this since i have to finish the fics i already gave post dates for :D

➻ disclaimer: all lions are inbred and they live in a pride. i don’t think this is necessarily something that i have to apologize for having in my story but i’ll still throw out the disclaimer that there is one tiny joke about lions being inbred.

⋆ jagged ⋆ teaser ii ⋆ my masterlist ⋆

When you were little, there were a group of predator hybrids who used to relish in causing you pain and anguish. They would ridicule you for just about everything, from your big doe eyes with its long sweeping lashes that would brush against your cheekbones when your eyes were closed to your longer than average neck that was narrow and would often elongate itself when you were absentmindedly trying to look far off into the distance. You had been bullied for your skinny frame and your long gangly limbs throughout all of elementary school where you had been a foot taller than the second tallest person in your class. You were constantly besmirched for having the smattering of pale freckles over your cheeks and nose, always being made to feel adequate for having visual indications of your deer and giraffe heritage.

From what you could tell, the only prey hybrids that were accepted in your small town in South Carolina, were the ones that had hybrid markers that were ambiguous and could have belonged to any number of species or the ones that didn’t have many visible hybrid markers at all. In contrast, the predator hybrids were allowed to delight in their own signs of hybridization. The worst of your bullies were a large group of big cat hybrids, containing both males and females’ hybrids of lions with the occasional leopard hybrid. From what you could tell, the lion hybrids of your small town enjoyed ruling over the place with their pride, and their children had learned from their toxic behavior, enjoying terrifying smaller predator hybrids by sneaking up on them and practicing their roars or by eating their lunches, from home, of entirely raw hunks of meat in front of prey hybrids causing them to throw up the contents of their own vegetarian meals.

All of this should have made you critical of predator hybrids and how they treated the prey hybrids of your town, but when you sat in the one room apartment that you shared with your mother, a lovely deer hybrid who had had you too young and was raising you by herself, you would do your arithmetic equations and stare at the poster of the University of Californian Hybrids, Los Angeles you had hanging up, and dream of escaping to a big city in a more progressive state where predators and prey could live in harmony with each other and might even sometimes be in relationships together. This was even worse than when two hybrids of the same class bred outside their species in your hometown. That’s what had happened with your mother and father. He was a D1 athlete who played on the basketball team of the university they had gone to and had broken your mother’s heart after she had found out that she was pregnant with you. It was one thing to date or sleep with someone who wasn’t the same species as you. It was an entirely different ordeal marrying them and having children with them.

You were desirous of a life where you could be with a predator hybrid because when you were six and had been pushed off of the top of the slides by a puma hybrid, who had waiting for her turn to slide after you, an adorable tiger hybrid who had been roughly the same age as you had squeaked out his attempt at a sonorous roar and scared off the girl and then had slid down to run to you, where you laid sprawled on the rubber floor of the playground clutching your sprained wrist. He had yelled for his grandmother to get you aid and had become your best friend up until the two of you had entered middle school and hit puberty. That was when Taehyung, who had been your fiercest defender against everyone who ridiculed your modelesque stature, and the way you had towered over everyone at your school, had fallen in love with a lion hybrid and started hanging out more and more with the crew of big cat hybrids after school. The final devastating blow that had severed your friendship with the male, forever? When the lion hybrid he had had a crush on, Miyeon, had made fun of your eyes, before you had to do a presentation for your world history class, and said they protruded and made you looked bug-eyed and then said that the only people who would ever find you attractive would be amphibian hybrids and Taehyung had joined her in her laughter. There was nothing wrong with toad or frog hybrids, but it hurt when the male you were in love with laughed and agreed that you were not attractive. That had made you spiral into a depression and made you determined that the following year, when you entered high school, you would do everything in your power to excel at school and to be extraordinary enough to not only get a ticket out of the prejudiced hellhole that was your hometown but to be able to afford to accept that ticket in the form of a full ride scholarship.

When you had finally moved to Los Angeles, your mother remaining behind because she said that the cost of living there was too expensive even though she would have loved to join you, you had reinvented yourself into someone who was self-assured and confident. Someone who had pride in all of the aspects that made her who she undeniably was. Also, when you entered university you were shocked at how many hybrids were taller than you, not only the giraffe ones. There were lion hybrids on campus that were taller than you, for the most part all of them were. That had made you squinty eyed and ask your mother how much inbreeding she thought the lion hybrids back home had partaken in since they were much smaller and much weaker than all the cat hybrids you had run into. And not to mention, undeniably ugly.

In fact, you were more aware that you were only half giraffe hybrid and not full, every time you walked around the campus where everyone was tall and beautiful. You had a full scholarship, a wide variety of friends from different majors, and had even dated a couple of guys. Your ex being without a doubt one of your worse decisions but at least it gave you experience right? But the point was, you had changed. You were no longer the scared skittish prey hybrid of the past that allowed big cat hybrids to walk all over her just because in the wild they were the “kings of the jungle.”

This is why it was particularly annoying that when Taehyung, yes that asshole went to the same school as you, had seen you across the room at a frat party and had lunged in your direction, you had been frozen like a deer in headlights and could not move. This had resulted in the jerk, whom you had not seen nor talked to since you stood next to him at your high school graduation ceremony, wrapping his warm large hand around your wrist and dragging you through the crowd of drunk hybrids up the stairs to the second floor to an unoccupied bathroom.

“Taehyung what the fuck,” you groused, no longer the soft-spoken girl that he was used to. You were annoyed at how good he looked. He was shorter than you in your heels, but he was probably within an inch of your height if you both stood nose to nose and barefoot. He was wearing an animal print shirt that had short sleeves and exposed his chest, which looked irritatingly firm and was a sun-kissed gold. There was a band of cloth wrapped around his head like a bandana that made him look rakishly seductive. And his wavy tousled dark hair and heavy-lidded amber eyes made a devastating combination that made your panties wet with a rush of arousal. He sniffed the air and you prayed that he only smelled the clean linen scented air fresheners that overpowering the bathroom and not the scent of your arousal underneath it.

“I need a favor,” he admitted without preamble. You blurted out your refusal after the word “need,” interrupting him. “Oh, come on Y/N, we were close once,” he tried.

“Yeah when we were six,” you grumbled, crossing your arms across your shirt that tightened even more around the generous swell of your breasts. You upturned your face, gazing up at the vents on the ceiling as though you were contemplating your escape before becoming self-conscious of the elongated state of your throat and moved to fix your gaze onto something that was more your eye level: the towel rack that had been added to the door.

Taehyung sighed, if you didn’t agree to help him, he would be in a pickle. Moments before he had seen you at the party, he had been talking to the pretty sand dune cat hybrid he had been lusting over all of last semester. Unfortunately for him, it appeared that she was still in love with that jaguar hybrid Jimin who hung around her like a dark cloud. Not even two minutes into her and Taehyung’s conversation, Jimin had appeared and draped a possessive arm around her while he glared venomously and unblinkingly at Taehyung.

With a laugh Taehyung had said, “Look man I’m not trying to steal your girl.” Even though he was totally trying to steal his girl, “I have my own and my tastes are quite the opposite, not that you aren’t beautiful ___,” he added, flashing her a wide smile and throwing in a wink for good measure. Jimin was awkward and standoffish, not to mention he was kind of small for a wild cat hybrid. ___ needed someone who was big and strong and could adequately protect her and their cubs.

Jimin had only raised one elegantly shaped dark eyebrow at the statement and looked skeptically at Taehyung, “And where is this girlfriend of yours? This is the first I’m hearing about her.”

Taehyung had smiled tensely and looked beyond where they stood to where the room was more crowded into a crush, his gaze flitting from female to female as he tried to find someone he could pass off as a girl he had been seeing for a while. His gaze had found you in the throng. You had stood out from everyone else with your thin form, towering over a majority of the girls while you danced with a red solo cup in one hand and gracefully throwing your head back. Your long hair had revealed the sexy stretch of skin from the column of your throat to your bare shoulders that were all golden from exposure to the sun yet still had the faint smattering of freckles. He couldn’t shift his eyes from your figure.

His gaze was trapped on the sensual picture you had formed on the dance floor, writhing with confidence, and awakening in Taehyung an inexplicable need to hunt you down, throw you over his shoulder and drag you back to his lair to command your body and pleasure it. To undeniably exercise his ownership over you. It had been confusing because for all that Taehyung was a tiger hybrid, he had rarely experienced such an overwhelming need to chase and to hunt, to show that he was an apex predator and the king of the jungle.

Jimin’s eyes had followed the path that Taehyung’s eyes had made, and uttered after a surprised sound of disbelief, “Wow she really is different from ___. Is she even a cat hybrid?”

Taehyung had answered him with annoyance, not daring to shift his eyes from you, fearing that you would disappear in the crowd of the party if he took his eyes off, “She’s a mixed baby. A giraffe and deer hybrid.”

___ had let out an amazed gasp of astonishment, “That sounds like such an interesting pairing. Can I meet her, Taehyung? I wonder what life is like growing up mixed. Even more so, since Jimin and my kittens will be—”

Taehyung barely paid attention to her, his gaze was too focused on the deer hybrid approaching you. “I have to go,” he muttered, setting down his empty bottle of beer on the counter.

“Sure, of course,” hummed ___, “But remember to ask her about a double date, okay!”

This brought the two of you to the present. Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at the memory of that stag who had been sniffing around you. “Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?”

You started at the abrupt change in conversation. Why would Taehyung ask you such a thing? Had he seen you shift away from Jongin before you had been unceremoniously dragged upstairs by him? “Not that it’s any of your business since we aren’t friends,” you emphasized mercilessly, “But that was my ex Jongin. That’s the last time I’ll date a deer hybrid,” you admitted reluctantly. “The men are so overbearing and territorial. And he can’t accept that we’re broken up since I was the one to break things off and not him.” The last sentence had you huffing in indignation.

“Hmm,” hummed Taehyung thoughtfully, instantly making you suspicious and raising the hairs on your body. “Have you considered a tiger hybrid for your next boyfriend?”

You side-eyed him. What the fuck. “No, I have not Taehyung. Why would you even say something like that? It’s hardly as though you’re trying to get that position.”

Taehyung bared all his teeth threateningly. It hardly could be passed off as a smile. “But what if I were, Y/N?”

“No.” You refused to even think about it and tried to shove past his body to get to the door and out of this confining space.

Taehyung wouldn’t let you escape so easily. He crowded you against the door. Although you had the height, he was still much bigger than you with wide shoulders and a body that was wrapped by hard ropes of lean predator muscle. “I have a proposition. If you pretend to be my girlfriend for a month, I’ll get that meathead to stop bothering you,” He murmured, meeting your wary gaze with his smoldering one, his deep honey colored eyes boring into your chocolate brown ones.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about just how the tiger hybrid would go about making the deer hybrid to back off. “You’re still getting thrills out of intimidating prey hybrids?” you scoffed, “That’s disgusting, Taehyung.”

Taehyung stilled, thrown off for a second, before he once again bared his teeth in the loose semblance of a smile and uttered, “I just meant he’s a Neanderthal. Once he sees how happy and satisfied you were with me, not to mention how I am able to take care of your every need, he’ll take the L and leave you alone.”

You still weren’t sold. “But why do you need a fake girlfriend,” you asked in suspicion. You trusted Taehyung about as far as you could throw him, which was probably only half a yard away.

Taehyung lied to you bald-facedly, the untruth flowing from his tongue so smoothly that you didn’t even catch it, “Same as you. There are too many people who are dying to have a piece of me and it’s honestly distracting. I’m trying to get into to finish a really intensive and time-consuming project for my major. I don’t have time to waste on booty calls.”

“And you would never be tempted to have sex with me?” You asked, your eyes burning a hole into the stretchy fabric of his black and white shirt.

“Never,” agreed Taehyung, lying once again. This time his heart thudded loudly against his chest and he felt a pang that he didn’t want to think about too deeply.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2020

[toothpastecanyon]

Restless

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun was the day that would immortalise her. Neural news networks beamed images of melting metal and shredded hull into minds all across the UL, and in that moment, she was reborn.

Not everyone met her on that day, though. Some people had met her a long, long time ago.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun was the day that would immortalise her. Neural news networks beamed images of melting metal and shredded hull into minds all across the UL, and in that moment, she was reborn.

Reborn not as a person, but as a figure. As a feeling. As a legend.

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun, stories began to be passed around.

It was said that the Dread Pirate Mizar was a tactical genius. She must have had inside knowledge to outmaneuver the Avada; it was said that she was a deserter, a former general of the innermost circles of the empire.

It was said that she rotted in prison for ten, twenty, fifty years, plotting the UL’s destruction.

It was said that she was crazy. It was said that she was all too sane.

It was said that she and the pirates like her were the UL’s most existential threat; it was said that she was a monster, a hero, a murderer, a revolutionary.

So many tales were told, each one taller than the last. But of these stories, a few would be left unsaid.

There was an old man, sitting in the living room with his granddaughter as his neural chip read him confirmation of Martha’s death. He grimaced to himself, thinking back to a time he’d rather forget.

______________________________________________________________

Biquilage Astradust was not proud of his past. He’d never had much in the way of a stable home life; his mother had died fighting in WEFIDS, and his father didn’t make enough to cover rent without him chipping in. He worked odd jobs until he fell into a group that paid much better… if you could stomach it.

He didn’t start out killing people, no. It started out with something he couldn’t help but understand.

It started out with anger. A common anger bound them all - anger at the hand they’d been dealt in life. Anger at the family they’d lost, anger at the situations they’d been trapped in, anger at the people who got what they didn’t deserve while they rotted in the gutters. Biquil didn’t remember a whole lot about where he went or what he did, but he remembered that anger.

It felt good, to share that. It felt good, to be with people who would understand. Who cares what they were doing?

…They were stealing. They were mugging. They were hurting people. And when Biquil was seventeen and fighting with his dad, they were saying they had some friends off planet who’d give him a place to stay for a while.

Pirates. These friends were pirates, and Biquil remembered the hard swallow he gave at the markings on the side of their ship. Jigeitef, who was accompanying him, gave him a playful shove.

“You look scared, B.” His grin had a gleam to it. “Don’t tell me I brought my buddies a chicken!”

“No! No, I’m ready! I’m ready to do whatever they say!”

“That’s more like it.” They were docking; Jig clapped his back. “You’re lucky. Captain’s putting on a bit of a party before the big hit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to him - if I can catch him sober, hah!”

The pirates were all crowded in an old UL mess hall; there weren’t even close to enough seats, and Biquil had to step between a dozen or so swaying crew members before he made it to the captain. The captain was a large, bearded man who seemed more interested in nursing his bowl of ERNARERE brew than saying hello; after a moment, Jig gave up and thrust a bowl in Biquil’s direction.

“S’no matter. Let’s go enjoy ourselves, eh?”

The stench of alcohol burned his nose, and the two of them had a hard time finding a place to sit. Eventually they settled for sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor; a pirate tapped Jig from behind and they started to talk, leaving Biquil alone in the deafening chatter around him.

Only for a moment, though. There was a nudge, and he turned to see Jig and the other pirate motioning at him.

“...yeah, he’s new,” Jig was saying. “He’s from… ah, whereabouts you from, B?”

“Up north,” said Biquil. He’d learned not to be specific.

“Yeah, he’s up north, round the, uh, Polar neighborhoods. Like me.” Jig cracked a grin. “You know his mom was a UL’er?”

Biquil’s blood ran cold as the pirate looked up at him. The pirate’s face twisted into a black anger, and he spat at the floor. Biquil huddled up a little closer to Jig.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. “I don’t want people knowing that!”

Jig waved him off. “Oh, you give him too much credit. He won’t remember it in the morning.”

The pirate made a slitting motion against his neck, and Biquil gulped. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, kid. Just relax, okay?” Jig rustled his hair, and then snorted at something. “Your mom, she died in WEFIDS, didn’t she?”

“What?”

“Your mom died in WEFIDS?”

“Um, yeah… she-”

“That’s amazing! Oh, dude, I gotta show you something hil-lar-ious.”

Biquil was taken aback by that, and watched as Jig got to his feet and looked around. He grinned when he spotted someone in the crowd, and cupped his hands over his mouth to yell across the room:

“Hey, Mizar!”

The room quieted for a moment, but there was no reply. Pirates started turning their heads and snickering; Biquil craned his head to see who they were laughing at.

“Mizar. Mizar.”

Jigs’ lip lifted in a sneer. He was staring at a woman lying facedown in a corner of the room, wild hair tangled in a dirty halo around her head. She didn’t respond, didn’t move a muscle, and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for star’s sakes. Can someone check if she’s dead?”

At that, a couple sniggering pirates prodded her. She groaned, but didn’t move much. Biquil glanced over at Jigs.

“What’s going on?” He whispered. “Why are you-”

“ARGH, FUCK!”

That came from Mizar; one of the pirates had poured their bowl all over her hair and she’d shot up, frantically pawing at the back of her head.

“I’m hit! I’m bleeding, I’m…” She stared blankly at the tarry mixture all over her hands, and then noticed all the pirates laughing at her. Her expression twisted into a furious glare. “Oh, fuck you guys! Leave me alone, I’ve got such a hangover right now!”

“Hey, Mizar!” Jigs called out. She turned that glare on him.

“Fuck off.”

“You know WEFIDS, right?”

Mizar visibly flinched at that. Her whole body went tense, and her hand went up to clutch at a dirty pink shawl hung around her shoulders. She reminded Biquil of a cornered animal; while the other pirates cackled, he shivered.

“You know WEFIDS, right?” Jigs repeated. When she didn’t respond, he patted Biquil’s shoulder. “D’you know we got a newbie who’s mom fought there?”

Biquil physically recoiled. He tugged at Jigs’ sleeve. “No, don’t-”

“Just sayin, I thought you’d be interested.” Jigs grinned wide. “Your folks, they bit it in a UL attack, didn’t they? Damn, that sucks. Who knows, maybe this newbie knows who did it, eh, B?”

Mizar’s eyes, small and beady and bloodthirsty, suddenly jumped down and fixed on him. Biquil still remembered the shiver that shot down his spine as she rose to her feet, shattered a bottle against the side of the ship, and stumbled forwards.

Stumbled down. Fell on a group of pirates, and suddenly there was kicking and shoving and swearing and Mizar dissolved into a bloody bar fight. Without her eyes on him, Biquil felt like he could breathe again; immediately he rounded on his friend.

“You’re trying to get me killed!”

“Relax, kid,” Jig sat back even as Biquil put a hand on his knife. “You’re not special, we do it to all the newbies. Sometimes she makes them scream, hah!”

“I don’t…” He frowned. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Well, you’re here now, and you’re not leaving.” Jig looked at him, and there was something dangerous in his smile. “Where’re you gonna go, huh? Back to Daddy? I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a pirate back at home.”

Biquil didn’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re ours now, boy. Get used to it.” Jig took a gulp of his brew. “And since you’re being so whiny about it, why don’t you have this?”

He handed Biquil a key. It was slightly bent, and there was dried blood on the handle.

“What’s this?”

“For where you’re sleeping. You’re lucky, that one’s for just a two person room! You’re gonna love your roommate.”

“Who’s my roommate?”

Jig just stared ahead, to the barfight. Somebody had Mizar in a headlock as another person was punching her all over. She was clawing at his arm, and then finally she took the broken bottle and drove it backwards into his face; they all fell over, and blood painted the wall. Biquil’s blood went cold.

“Not…”

“Yeah.” A chuckle. “Hey, maybe you’ll have the room to yourself. Seems like this fight could go either way.”

There was a shout, and suddenly Mizar was pinning the other guy to the wall; he held his hands up, but she stabbed him in the neck, and stabbed him again and again and again and again until he fell down and she kept stabbing at the wood. Finally she staggered back, dropping the bottle, staring at her bloodsoaked hands. Jig raised his eyebrows.

“Or not.” He patted Biquil’s back. “Yeah, have fun tonight, B. Might even see you tomorrow.”

Biquil stared at the monster curled up against the far wall, and honestly wondered if he was going to die tonight.

______________________________________________________________

Mizar wasn’t there when Biquil made his way to their room. He’d actually made sure to go to bed before her - his plan, if you could call it a plan, was to just be silent and hope she wouldn’t notice him. He didn’t know what to expect going into her room: bodies? Weapons? Some kind of sick collection of things taken from her murders? His heart was thumping in his chest as he turned the key, braced himself, opened the door…

And found not a bad room. It obviously wasn’t the neatest place to sleep at; there were clothes and knives strewn about everywhere, and a collection of alcohol bowls at the base of one bed, but nothing horrifying. Most surprising of all, he remembered, was a sketchbook on her bed, opened to quite a pretty drawing of this system’s asteroid belt.

Strange.

Her stuff was all over Biquil’s bed, too, and he froze, unsure of whether to move it or not. He eventually decided to carefully lower it all to the floor, and then turned out the lights so she hopefully wouldn’t notice.

Then he got in bed, and waited for her. He couldn’t sleep a wink knowing that she was coming, not knowing what she was going to do when she saw him. Jig didn’t seem to think she was that scary, but that look in her eyes when she was pacing towards him…

It was a long wait. He didn’t know how long exactly, but an eternity later, he heard the doorknob move, saw the door open and a figure stumble in. Backlit by the hallway lights, she looked like some kind of shadow, and she froze in place.

Biquil couldn’t see her eyes, but she moved her head, and suddenly he felt her gaze like he was being dropped into a sun. Slowly, deliberately, Mizar turned and closed the door behind her, locked it… and then there was something cold pressed up against his neck.

“What are you doing here?” Mizar’s voice was dangerously low. “You come to kill me? Who sent you this time?”

“What?” Biquil strained against the knife. “I don’t - they just sent me to sleep here! I wasn’t, I-I’m not trying to kill you, I promise!”

“Fuck off! Fuck off with your promises! Why don’t you guys just leave me alone?!”

“I’m sorry! I-I just got here, I don’t- please don’t kill me. I can leave. I’ll go, I-I’ll sleep outside in the hallway, I’ll…” He felt the knife relax a bit. “I’ll…?”

Mizar didn’t say anything for a long moment. Suddenly, the lights switched on, and he jumped at the sight of her looming over him. Her eyes squinted a bit in the light, and then glared down at him.

“You,” she said, after a pause. “You’re that kid from earlier. Jigs’ little friend.”

Lost for words, he nodded. She looked down at the floor.

“You moved my stuff.”

“Sorry.”

Mizar gave him a strange look at that. He couldn’t figure out if it was good or bad, but suddenly she pushed off him and tossed the knife into a corner. He could finally breathe… and he didn’t know what to do now. She was picking up all the clothes he’d moved to the floor; he reached down to help, but she glared at him and he thought better of it.

It was silent, for a long, awkward minute. Then Mizar spoke.

“B something.”

“Huh?”

“Your name.”

“Oh, uh… call me Biquil.”

Mizar nodded to herself as she folded up a prison jumpsuit. “And how old are you?”

“Um… Twenty?”

“You asking me if you’re twenty?”

“No! Uh, no, uh… seventeen. I’m seventeen.”

“Seventeen, huh.” Mizar opened a drawer. “You’re young, aren’t you.”

“Yeah…I can still fight, though! I’m not gonna run away!”

“Run away. Heh.” She shook her head. “You should, kid. While you still can.”

“What?”

“Where you from?”

“Uh, ODDIK.”

“How far away is that?”

“It’s, uh… we’re in ODDIK right now.”

“Oh.” Mizar shot him a death glare. “I’m not dumb. I’ve had a long day. I’ll hurt you if you laugh at me.”

Biquil shook his head, and watched her glare deepen.

“You think I’m dumb. You all think I’m dumb, and you’re all wrong. I know why they made you come here; they think I’ll be a part of their little hazing.” She muttered to herself. “I’m gonna kill Jigs. Gonna kill him. One day I’m just gonna kill him.”

He shrank back in his bed a little as Mizar finished putting her stuff away. She stalked towards the light switch, and shot a look at him before she flicked it.

“You need anything else?”

“What do you-”

“I said. Do you need. Anything else.” She glared at him. “Once this goes off it’s not going on again. Hurts my eyes.”

“No, I don’t- I don’t need anything else.”

“Good.” She turned off the lights, and there was a shuffling as she got into bed. “Oh, by the way, don’t plan on sleeping tonight, kid. There’s a reason they gave me my own room.”

“...Why?”

“I, uh, snore. Yeah, I snore real loud, apparently.”

Biquil frowned. “That’s the reason?”

“I mean I also strangled someone with their own bedsheets once, but that was self defense.” The bed creaked as Mizar rolled over. “Anyway, goodnight, or whatever.”

She didn’t speak again, and Biquil was suddenly alone in total darkness. He tried to shut his eyes, but it didn’t make much difference.

______________________________________________________________

Unsurprisingly, Biquil didn’t remember getting much sleep that night. He did - very vividly - remember why, though. It wasn’t the snoring. Mizar didn’t snore once.

It was the crying. She cried all night, sniffing and muttering and breath-hitching… and he just lay there, with nothing to do but listen. He didn’t dare make a sound, and when the alarm went off for them to get up, he didn’t say a word about the blotchy face who turned on the lights.

“Hmm…” She wiped her eyes and frowned at him for a second. “Oh, you’re the kid from the… Right.”

“Good morning,” Biquil said, and then immediately regretted how dumb that sounded.”Uh-”

“It’s a good morning? That’s news to me, heh.” She chuckled as she picked a knife up from the floor. “Big day. Think we’re raiding a UL outpost today. Apparently the captain thinks they keep a lot of gold in little space stations at the edge of empire space, but hey, what do I know.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he got out of bed. There wasn’t a whole lot of getting ready he needed to do - he’d slept in his clothes - but he did check his pockets. You’d be surprised how easy it was for things to go missing over the night.

“How you feeling about it, kid?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m ready for anything.”

“Anything, eh?” She shot him an unpleasant smile. “That’s bold. Anything at all?”

Biquil made a face. “I mean… you know, ready for whatever happens on the job, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know. I know what happens on jobs, you don’t.”

“...Okay?”

She paused, and then took a step towards him. “This is your first job, isn’t it.”

“No, I-”

“Sure, sure, you’ve messed around on your home planet or whatever. That’s not what I’m talking about, kid.” She stepped forwards again, close enough that he could smell her. That pink shawl - stars, it reeked. “I’m saying this is your first job. Your first real one.”

There was something unreadable in Mizar’s eyes… he nodded. Anything to make her go away, and fuck she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to me,” she said, quietly. “You’re not gonna go on this job today. You’re gonna stay in this room, and I’ll come back after and get you off the ship.”

Biquil frowned. “What?”

“I’ll just say I killed you. They always believe that, they won’t go looking for you.”

“Wh- but, no! I gotta go on this job, I won’t get paid-”

“Then you’re gonna walk right off this ship and get yourself a different job - asteroid miners, they hire off the street these days! You still have that option.” Her grip tightened. “Listen, kid, that UL outpost is gonna be stuffed with cameras and chip scanners; you think you got problems now? Wait until your iris scan shows up on every piracy database in the galaxy. Once you’re in, you’re not getting out.”

He stared at her. “You want me to just… run away?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“I can’t do that! Jigs is gonna think I’m a-”

“Argh!” Mizar suddenly shoved him back. “I’m gonna break something if you keep whining at me! Just stay here for a few hours and I’ll get you off the ship-”

“But I don’t want to get off the ship!” He clenched his fists. “You can’t just kick me out like this!”

“Oh yes I can, and also, I don’t care what you want. You’re seventeen, what you want is dumb.”

“Shut up, shut up!” He stabbed a finger at her. “Stop telling me what to do! I came here so people would stop telling me what to do! You’re not my mother!”

Mizar stared down at him. “Yeah, and I’m real glad I’m not. She raised a piece of work, didn’t she?”

Biquil froze as the words registered; at first there was disbelief, and then red hot rage like she’d stabbed him with fire. Before he even knew what he was doing he drew back his fist and was driving it right into her stupid smug face-

And she caught it. A second later, the cold rim of a blaster shoved itself against his jaw. She wasn’t smiling at all.

“Don’t try that again, kid.” Her hand forced itself into his pocket, and grabbed his room key. “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to stay right here until I come back, and then you’re going to get off this ship and go do something else with your life.”

She started walking backwards, still pointing the blaster at him. He glowered at her.

“I hate you.”

“Join the club.” Mizar opened the door, and then motioned around the room. “Oh, yeah, and while I’m gone, don’t trash my room. I may kill you for real then.”

“Oh, yeah? Try me! We can fight it out, we can-!” The door slammed in his face, and he kicked it. “Argh! I can’t believe this!”

He jiggled the handle, and then tried banging and hollering on the metal; no one came. He stepped back, shaking from anger, and started kicking all her stupid clothes strewn all over the floor. One of her knives was right by his foot - he took that and started gouging holes in some of them, and then he went to her bed and sliced right down her mattress.

Her sketchbook fell on the ground. He picked it up, chest heaving, and tore the pages right out of their binding. He tried to rip them all together but they were too thick to tear, so he picked one out.

It was a drawing of an asteroid. The detail in it gave him pause; he stared at the little flecks of shining ore in the grey shading, the sky behind it peppered with stars… this must’ve taken hours, he thought.

Biquil made to tear it, but then he paused, and then he scowled and tossed it to the floor instead. He stalked over to his bed and threw himself onto his pillow.

There he lay for a long time, glaring into the fabric.

______________________________________________________________

It felt like an eternity before Mizar returned. Biquil paced around the room for a while, listening to the oxygen system whirr on and judder off, the idling engines chugging deep in the hull, the creaks and moans of an empty ship. He tried picking the lock, but he’d never been very good at that; he didn’t like fiddly things. He didn’t like waiting around.

Which was why it was almost a relief to hear footsteps down the corridor. He heard the key turn in the lock, and saw the door crack open.

Nobody came out at first. He moved a bit closer, and then it swung wide; Mizar shuffled in, hunched, with her hand clapped around a wound on her forehead - he could see the blood still running down it.

“Oh…” He said as she threw her backpack on the ground. “Uh… are you…?”

“I dunno… what’s my name? What year is this?” Her eyes flicked up to his face, and she let out a chuckle. “Nah, just kidding, kid. Had to see the look on your face.”

He watched her laugh a bit more to herself, then rifle around in her bag. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and saw all the torn clothes he’d left strewn about.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping busy, eh? You little gremlin.” Shaking her head, she picked one up and made to tear off the sleeve. “I do remember telling you I’d kill you for touching my stuff, but I guess…”

A crumpled page fell out of the shirt, and Mizar froze as it came to rest face-up; it was her drawing of the asteroid belt. Biquil could feel the air drop ten degrees as she shot up, noticing for the first time the pages scattered about her room, the spine of the sketchbook carelessly tossed behind the bed. He could see her breath hitch, her jaw set, her fists clench… and she spoke.

“You…” She said, with a dangerous quiver. “You destroyed my sketchbook.”

Biquil felt a bit of a pang at that, but he stuffed it down. “I… I told you. I don’t want to leave.” He watched Mizar bend down, flip her bag over, and start shaking everything out of it. The blood from her head was dripping now; she seemed to have completely forgotten about bandaging it. “Uh, what are you…?”

“Get in.”

“Get in what?” He blinked as she tossed the bag at him. “What? I won’t fit!”

“Magic. It’s bigger on the inside.” Mizar stalked towards him. “Get in, I’ll carry you out.”

“But-”

Mizar punched him in the mouth. Biquil remembered it like a shot of pain and then he was on the floor, stars dancing across his vision. He tried to blink open his eyes, and saw Mizar looming over him like the shadow of a giant.

“I am so, fucking, SICK OF PLAYING NICE FOR YOU!” She drove her foot into his chest. “Do you think I’m some sort of joke? That you’re just gonna come in here and tear my shit up and walk all over me? Fuck you! FUCK YOU!”

She kicked him again, and he recoiled from her. She grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him up to her.

“Look at me.” Mizar seized his stinging jaw. “Look at me! You’re gonna get in this bag, you’re gonna get off this ship, and you’re gonna pray to god that I don’t see your shitty UL face again because I will do something terrible to you. I will. Is that clear?”

Biquil stared into her eyes, and could only imagine he was seeing the face of pure evil. Her breath was rancid, and her blood was running down the side of her grimy face and dripping onto him. He couldn’t breathe; he could barely manage a single, terrified nod.

“Okay.” She took a breath. Her eyes flitted down, and then wandered up to meet his again. “Can you stand?”

He nodded, but he struggled to get his legs underneath him. She made a face and hoisted him up herself.

“Alright…” Mizar said, and brushed him off a little. She didn’t look him in the eyes. “Alright. Now… just get in the bag, okay?”

This time, she didn’t have to ask twice. He quickly stumbled over and drew the bag around him, then winced as she hoisted it up over her shoulder. His face, his ribs - he tried to cradle them as best he could, but with every little movement they sent out sharp shots of pain. It stank in the bag, too; maybe he was a little grateful now everything hurt so much, because it didn’t occur to him at the time to wonder what had been stashed in here before him.

No, in the utter darkness, all he tried to make out were sounds from the outside. Mizar’s feet, pounding on the metal. The beeps of doors as she walked through them. The odd chatter of passing pirates. They seemed to get to a place with a lot more voices; Mizar took a hard turn right, and then-

“Hey, you! Mizar!”

Jig. Biquil perked up at that voice.

“Where you going? We’re leaving in less than a trentile, and… what’s in that bag?” A dark chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’ve got other plans.”

Mizar stopped, and turned around. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he could feel her swaying a bit, like she was suddenly way too drunk to stand.

“Hey, you listening to me? What are you, stupid?”

“Huh?”

“I said what’s in the bag!”

There was a pause, and then… “The kid. Biqop or whatever.”

He blinked. What?

“Yeah,” she said, and dropped him to the floor. “Came back to my room, and the body - whoo - it was already leaking and stinking up the place and all that junk. Gotta dump it out before we jump; oh, hey, wanna take a look?”

“Eugh!” He could hear Jig take a step back. “No! Why the fuck would I want to look at that, you gross little-”

“Because you’re gonna be in here too some day.”

“Wh… i-is that a threat?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” She picked up the bag again. “Enjoy yourself. You know I’ll be back before we leave.”

Then she walked away, and there wasn’t another word from Jig. He could feel the air change as they walked off the ship; Mizar was still going somewhere, and he wasn’t sure where that was until they went through a door and stopped.

“Alright.” She set the bag down, and uncovered him. They were in a bathroom. “Seems like I can let you out here. Come with me.”

“What?” Biquil frowned. “Where?”

“I saw a sign as I was walking over here.” Mizar took off her shawl and placed it gently in her bag. A bandage was now tied around her head, he noticed. She offered a hand. “C’mon, I’ll do you a favour.”

He was a little dubious of that, but he took her hand and let her lead him out of the bathroom. He’d seen the ODDIK station before; the pirate ship was stationed in a pretty seedy part of it, with grime on the walls and neon neurovertisments flashing at him through a crowd of shadows. Mizar kept her hand on him as she led him out, past doors and through hallways, into a different part that looked a tiny bit more cleaned up. There, she stopped and took a look around.

“What are you looking for?” Biquil asked. He saw her snap her fingers and start walking towards a man leaning by a docking station. “Who’s he?”

Mizar gave a sunny smile. “Mr Mazul?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi, we saw your ad about asteroid miners! Sorry about the look - just got out of work, at the mines. Long shifts and all that, you know how it is.”

He blinked. “Oh? Where do you work? On planet?”

Biquil saw her freeze a little at that. “Uh, yeah, sure, at…”

“There’s a uranium mine in the Polar Neighborhoods,” Biquil supplied. The man nodded.

“Oh, yeah! My cousin works there! Jedislef Mazul, you know him?”

Mizar nodded. “Yeah, uh, I think that rings a bell. Yeah, it’s a good job. It’s good pay, uh, honest work… but anyway! We’re not here for me, we’re here-” She wrapped an arm around Biquil. “-for my nephew!”

He blinked at that. Mazul looked over at him.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Biquilage.” He paused. “Uh, Astradust.”

“Alright. And how old are you?”

“He’s seventeen,.” Mizar said. “but he’s a very good worker, very driven.” Her grin turned wry. “Heh, honestly, sometimes it’s annoying how hard he works to get stuff done sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the face!”

Biquil awkwardly rubbed his chin as the man wrote something down. He looked up at Mizar, and she winked at him. He didn’t know how to interpret that.

“Okay…” Mazul started. “Just to clarify, we’re asteroid miners. We go out for cycles at a time, so you’ll go long periods without seeing your family. That okay with you?”

“That’s okay.” He made a face. “That’s… yeah. That’s okay with me.”

“Alright, then. We’re going out tomorrow, so actually it’s great you stopped by; we were hoping to get a few more onboard before then.” He extended a hand. “Welcome to the team, Biquilage.”

“Oh… oh, thank you!” Biquil took it. “That’s great! Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll go over the details with all the new hires tomorrow. Just show up here at 11th trentile, and don’t be late, okay?”

“O-okay! I won’t!”

He felt Mizar clap his back. “And voila!” She said, and the smile on her face was wide and genuine. “Nice, kid! It’s that easy!”

“Yes, it was good to meet you, Biquilage, and…” The man looked to Mizar. “Oh, I don’t think I got your name.”

Mizar blinked. “My name?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhhh…” She seemed genuinely caught off guard; Biquil could see her search for a name, but in the end what came out of her mouth was: “Martha. Martha, uh, Astrapuff.”

“Astradust.”

“I knew that,” she said, a little distantly. “Was just making a joke. Let’s go.”

They walked a little ways away, and Biquil didn’t quite know what to do now. Mizar’s arm was still around his shoulders; he tried to extract himself, and that was when she seemed to come back to herself a bit.

“Uh,” She drew her arm back, and dug into her pocket. “Hey, one more thing.”

Mizar drew her hand out, counted a couple crumpled credits, then handed them over.

“This’ll probably get you a room for tonight. Won’t be the nicest, but hopefully that don’t bother you.” She flashed a smile. “You’ve slept in worse places.”

“Thanks?” He looked up at her. “Why are you - this is your money!”

“Eh, as long as you don’t ask the people I took it from.”

“But… why are you being so nice to me? What’s in it for you?”

“I dunno, what’s in it for you asking questions like that? You want me to take it back?” She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “Look, you’re all set up, I’m going now. Have a nice life.”

She started walking away. Biquil frowned. “Mizar?”

“Byyye!”

“Martha?”

Martha froze at that. Biquil saw her hesitate; her hands clenched a bit, her shoulders rose as she breathed, and then she turned around. There wasn’t quite a smile on her face as she spoke.

“It’s a nice fake name, right? I like it. Got a good ring to it.” Her smile fell a little. “Not my name, though. Doesn’t really fit, y’know, this.”

She chuckled, and hoisted her backpack up on her shoulder.

“Anyway,” she said. “Time for me to go. Bye, kid.”

Then Biquil watched Mizar turn, and walk out of the station without another word. She disappeared behind a bend in a hallway, and a part of him thought that was the last time he’d ever see her… and he didn’t. Not for decades.

Biquil spent his life mining asteroids, making friends, sending money back to his dad. He met, he married, he settled down somewhere far from ODDIK, and some nights when he tucked his kids into bed, his mind wandered back to that one dark night on the pirate ship, the night before he almost made the biggest mistake of his life.

The night Martha stepped in and turned him back. Saved all this. And that wasn’t to say she was good, or nice - even forty years on his jaw still clicked when he ate - but when he thought of her, he liked to imagine she’d caught a break at some point. Maybe she was living somewhere outside even the UL, getting to have a quiet life where no one bothered her and she could sleep peacefully at night. It wasn’t likely, but it made him feel a bit better when he looked around at all he had and knew how lucky he was not to end up just like her.

But, of course, he did see her again. For weeks the news broadcast her mugshot on every building of the UL, and Biquil could no longer imagine that she’d lead anything close to a comfortable life. She’d spent her life in piracy, and for the last five years she’d sat on death row before she got out and tore a final, bloody rampage through UL space.

That face. Those eyes. They haunted him for the rest of his days… because no one else could see what he saw in them. Some people said they were eerily blank, others described the calculated intelligence in them… none of them would just admit she looked tired. Really, really tired.

They did, didn’t they? I mean, wouldn’t you be tired after being sent to prison? She looked the same as she did when he first laid eyes on her across the dining room.

Like she just wanted to be left alone.