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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

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Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {18}

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Cursing, Lite Angst, Fluff,

Words: 5.2k

Note: Some super important and legit questions. Who guessed right? Poor Chris? Or I’ont feel sorry for that b**ch? Anyone still on the summoning Charles train?

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: Q1 | Q2 | Q3 | Q4 | Q5 | Q6 | Q7 | Q8 | Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 |

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-Y/N-

He didn’t say one word to you at dinner. His eyes barely left his plate. If someone spoke to him, he answered in as few words as possible. Everyone knew he was in a pissy mood, but no one batted an eye to it. It was possible they were so used to his Gemini twin switch-ups that they just ignored them. You, on the other hand, were more in tuned to them than ever. You blamed the new parameters of your relationship. With the thought of that word, your fork froze on its way to your mouth. Relationship? There was no way it was a relationship. It was just sex—really great, incredible, toe curling, eye rolling, tongue biting, lose your voice, sex.

“Would you like some more peas, Y/N?”

“No, thank you. I’m full already.”

You saw the look on Chris’s face. It looked as if he’d tasted the sourest lemon ever. It looked that way every time you spoke. The longer the silent treatment went on, the more you accepted that you’d struck a nerve with him on the beach. His small confession would be great and all if you could believe it. Your brain was split in two, and your heart refused to even enter the conversation. You listened to the conversations around you while you pushed the remainder of your food around your plate. It would be interesting to see how much longer this went on for.

After dinner, everyone made it to the cinema room for another newly released on-demand movie. Scott and Zack were booed up in one of the corners while the other couples were doing similar things. Ms. Lisa sat with the kids, and Chris was by himself in the back. The safe bet was sitting with the kids and Ms. Lisa, but that’s not what you did. You squeezed past Chris and plopped down beside him. He didn’t look at you; he kept his eyes front and center.

As you waited for the movie to begin, you munched on the popcorn and rose the footrest to get comfortable. Once it did begin, nothing changed. Chris was silent the whole way through. He didn’t laugh, didn’t move, and didn’t speak. He didn’t even look as if he was watching it. You even tried to get his attention by accidentally bumping him from time to time, moving around an excessive amount, and even offering him popcorn. Nothing worked.

Once the movie finished, he got up and left without a word. You were ready to slap him with a book. You hated the cat and mouse game. You’d never played anything but the mouse and being the cat wasn’t where it was at for you. You didn’t chase any man. It wasn't who you were—not anymore. So, instead of going after him, you said your goodnights and went back to the guesthouse, ready to turn in for the night.

After checking some emails and doing some drawing, you sipped a glass of wine while watching the moon in the sky. The goal was for the combination of the two to tire you out enough for your brain to quiet down so you could rest. After an hour, you were on your second bottle of wine and still watching the moon with no end in sight. You were still wired, and your brain was still running a mile a minute. Every minute or so, your eyes always drifted to the window that you now knew was Chris's. It was dark. You didn’t know if he was asleep or just not there.

Your mind drifted back to earlier on the beach. He knew your patterns. When he read you with not even a slip, it threw you. Yeah, you’d hung out sometimes when you were with Scott or your group of friends, but you never thought he paid that close attention. It wasn’t easy to know your patterns. It was something that took careful studying. Scott knew them because he was around you a lot. Chris knowing them meant you were never his brother’s annoying friend, or that cute black girl he wouldn’t mind smashing to smithereens. It meant he cared, really cared and wanted more than sex all along.

If that was true, then you were fucked. Lisa’s words echoed in your head.

“When it’s the one, Y/N, you’ll have no hesitations. You might fight it, but it won’t change anything.”

No, you thought springing to your feet to pace around. There was no fucking way that was what it meant. No fucking way could he want more than sex with anyone, especially you. You had nothing in common. You didn’t know shit about each other but how your bodies worked together or whatever Scott shared between you two. Chris Evans was incapable of anything that went deeper than sex. That is just how he was built—it was what Hollywood turned him into.

“No, you're not like the others. You’re different. This is different.”

Your movements stopped, then fragments of conversations from the last few weeks played in your head.

“Goddamn it, Y/N, you mean everything.”

“You cripple me with how much I want.”

“You’re all I want to see, Y/N.”

“I see your heart, Y/N, I’ve always seen it no matter how hard you’ve tried to hide it, tried to pretend like you don’t have one.”

“None of this has ever been about sex for me. I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more than that.”

“You make me want things I can’t have.”

“No one matters before you. You’re all I see; all I’ve ever seen.”

“I trust you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.”

“I’m scared of you.”

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” you whispered.

It was right in front of you. All you had to do was pull the curtain back to reveal it. With that knowledge, you didn’t dare touch the curtain. Not tonight. You grabbed the empty bottles and went back inside. After crawling into bed with your AirPods in, you listened to your sleep mix. Ninety percent of the time, it worked. You hoped because you’d had some alcohol, it would be the ticket you needed to drift off to dreamland.

Five minutes passed; you were awake. Ten inched on, and you were staring into the ceiling with your thoughts still racing. You put on your meditation mix and tried to center yourself. Five minutes ticked by with you doing your breathing exercises, then ten with you adding your mantras. Once you’d reached twenty minutes, you gave up. You were now sitting back against the headboard staring out the window Chris had jumped through several hours before. You weren’t going to sleep tonight. The sleep gods were laughing at you while the gods of pleasure, desire, and yearning were mocking and playing with you.

It had been so long you didn’t recognize it was yearning you were feeling. It had been years since you turned that emotion off and severed any possible way it could find its way back inside. Somehow here it was again. The last time you yearned for a man, you ended up with a ruined life, a shattered heart, and needing to move from Connecticut back to Boston at the drop of a hat in the middle of the night so he wouldn’t discover you. The thought of your past had you frozen still as if you were in a night terror unable to move.

It felt like hours before you could move again, though it was just a few minutes. You’d thought you’d gotten past this. You’d never had a flare-up, ever. You quickly pulled your robe back on and tied it tightly before you slipped on your fuzzy slides and dug into the desk drawer. When you walked to the back of the property toward the woods, you followed the same path you had twice before. Though it was dark, you managed to avoid any missteps. You didn’t even know if he was there, but you had a gut feeling he was.

When you pushed open the gate that was overgrown by vines, you saw the lights on outside from your date and the light inside the house. As you crossed the lawn with your phone in one hand and the gift box in the other, you tried to think of the right thing to say. You could apologize, but apologies were tricky for you. It was something that took a lot for you even to attempt. You hadn’t apologized to any man since leaving Connecticut. Once you were in front of the door, you knocked and waited. You could hear Dodger barking up a storm inside. There was no way he was sleeping. Almost two minutes passed before the door opened to reveal a shirtless Chris. The look on his face was an inpatient one.

“Sit Dodger!”

The barking ceased as did the scratching paws on the wooden floor.

“What’re you doing here? You should go back to the guesthouse.”

“I want to be here,” you answered plain as day.

He looked as if he were thinking of the right comeback for a few seconds before he sighed. “Why? The only way you come in here is if you’re finally going to talk to me.”

You dropped your head and groaned. “Chris--.”

“Night,” he said before he closed the door, leaving you out there.

“Son of a--,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. He was so fucking dramatic. You were supposed to be the dramatic one; you were the woman.

“Chris, open the door.”

No answer. You could hear dodger on the other side of the door whining.

“Even Dodger wants me to come in. Open the door.”

Still, he didn’t answer. “Chris, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I’m not going to beg you to open the door!”

He didn’t fall for it. You rested your forehead on the door and groaned.

“You’re going to have to step outside your frost-covered castle sometime, honey.”

Your mother’s words chose this moment to replay. She’d been periodically saying them to you ever since you moved back to Boston seven years ago. All these years, you hadn’t needed to. All these years you’d resided in your frost castle that was surrounded by your frosted shard protection wall. Anyone who managed to get close enough either hurt themselves or remained there stupidly continuing trying to break through. Only those you chose to come inside the frozen castle came in, and it was on your terms. None of them lasted—you made sure of it.

“Keep pushing. You just might get what you say you want—to be alone forever.”

You had pushed him. You’d been pushing this entire time. You’d pushed time and time again, and he wasn’t running. He was doing the opposite. He was pounding the ice shards attempting to break them.

“Fuck!”

“Fine—we’ll—we’ll talk,” you slowly said.

The other side of the door was still quiet. Were you talking to yourself now? Had he walked away and actually left you standing outside? When your anger began to rise from all the possibilities, the door opened again. Chris stared at you for several long moments before he widened the door so you could walk inside. When you did, you dipped down to scratch behind Dodger’s ears.

“Hey boy. Thanks for pleading my case.” He licked your cheek then scurried off.

When you stood, Chris walked from the kitchen to the doors that led to the back deck. You placed the giftbox in your hand on the wall shelf by the door then walked to the deck to see Chris seated drinking a bottle of beer from the twelve-pack on the center of the table. You took a deep breath and sat on the table crossing your legs as children did in a play circle. Chris stared at your exposed legs, groaned, and looked up to you. The look he gave you said he knew what you were trying to do even before you actually tried to do it. Rolling your eyes, you got off the table and sat across him on the bench then grabbed a beer. After slapping the cap off the edge of the table, you guzzled some.

Long minutes passed with neither of you speaking. You didn’t know what he wanted you to say.

“When did you break things off?”

You put the bottle to your head once again and sighed out when you placed it on the table to shuffle it between your hands.

“Not long. That night you saw me on the phone by the pool.”

“When he said you should take time to figure out what you want?”

You nodded while keeping your eyes low.

“Was it what you wanted?”

“I was indifferent to it either way,” you confessed. When you said it, you felt like you should have felt like a horrible person, but you didn’t.

“Did you have feelings for him?”

You had to work overtime not to roll your eyes into the stratosphere. You hated being questioned.

“Why does it matter? It’s done.”

“It matters,” Chris dryly replied.

With exasperation laced all through your voice, you countered. “Did you have feelings for any of the girls you were with?”

Your eyes met, and he held your gaze as he emptied his first bottle and put it to the side. As he took another and slammed off the top, he spoke.

“You’re doing it again.” His voice was mainly emotionless, but you picked up a hint of annoyance.

Narrowing your eyes, you flared your nose. You hated being questioned, but you hated feeling backed into a corner even more. Why was it that he was the only one who could make you feel like this?

“Is this what you wanted to talk about--my feelings and relationship with another man who I was also sleeping with?”

Chris clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“You’re pushing.” He said it so tediously that you wanted to reach over the table and smack him. You almost did. Instead, you got up and paced the deck for a few moments. When you stopped, you kept your back to him and tried to calm yourself down.

“Charles was a good time,” you softly began. “He was fun. I never intend for anyone I’m with to be--serious. I make no plans, enter with no expectations. Whatever happens, happens—and I don’t develop feelings,” you explained through gritted teeth.

As you spoke the words, you admitted they sounded horrible. You sounded like some black widow that lured men in only to eat them and move on to the next.

The crickets around you were deafening. Chris didn’t speak, and you wondered what he was thinking from your admittance. Would he be like a few before him and tease you about being heartless? Would he start making demands? Anything was possible with him because you realized you didn’t know him on this level. When you were sure five minutes of silence passed, you gathered up the guts to turn back to him. He was sitting on the bench, turned to you patiently watching you—waiting.

“Let me in.”

It was a soft plea. It was so soft it tugged at your heartstrings and gave you another unfamiliar feeling.

“Just a little—please.” Chris held out his hand to you and sat there waiting. He looked as if he wasn’t in a hurry for you to decide.

You stared at his outstretched hand but stayed where you were.

“How?” It was a whisper. You doubted he heard it.

“Take my hand,” Chris whispered. “Take my hand. That’s it. The first step is taking my hand.”

Another few minutes passed with you still standing there and looking at him as if he were an alien asking you to get on his space ship.

“I don’t—I don’t think I can,” you whispered, emotion clogging your throat.

“Then we’ll stay like this until you think you can,” Chris softly answered.

He was being so sweet and gentle that it was touching. He was showing you a different side to him, one that you’d never seen before, not in this light. After what could have been ten minutes, you slowly closed the space between you. When you stood before him, it took you longer to reach for him. Chris’s hand engulfed yours, but he didn’t move you, he just held it. It was you who sat before him on the bench.

Chris pulled you closer to him with his hands gripping your thighs. Thankfully, the wood of the bench was varnished and treated, which meant no splinters in your ass. Once Chris was finished moving you, your body was crushed against his with your legs draped over his. He gazed into your eyes so deeply you wondered if he could see into the frozen recesses of your heart.

“Why does he make you so angry?”

The muscles in his jaw danced as he breathed out. You could see he was debating opening up to you. The storm in his eyes fluctuated from an intense sapphire blue to a dangerous navy.

“Let me in, Chris. How do you expect me to do it if you won’t?”

He scoffed. “Throwing my words back at me, huh.” You smirked and nodded. Chris pressed his forehead to yours and took a deep breath.

“I do know him.”

Your eyes bugged from his quiet confession. “What? What do you mean you know him? You said you didn’t,” you rushed out.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to impact whatever you had going on with him.”

You clenched your jaw and reigned in the anger that was threatening to boil over. “Talk.”

“Earlier in my career when I’d just gotten to Hollywood, we became friends. I called him MD. We experienced the lifestyle together, we partied, met girls—got pretty wild.”

You were speechless. You had no idea about any of this, neither did Scott. This meant he’d kept this from everyone. Why?

“When I got with Jessica, we hung out a little bit but not anything wild like we used to. She didn’t like the partyer me, so to keep the peace, I let go of a lot of behaviors for her. When we broke up, I thought it was because of me, because I didn’t see myself settling down to do the serious thing that young in my career. I never questioned why she accepted it so easily I just thought she realized I was right, and the timing wasn’t right for either of us.”

He paused, dropped his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked to be struggling, and part of you wanted to tell him he could stop, but the other part needed to know the truth once and for all. You waited but instinctively laced your fingers with his and held his hand. Chris stared at your hands for a few moments then looked at you before he cleared his throat.

“We got back into the party lifestyle, and it was great once again. Things went back to normal with partying until the sun came up every night and one-night stands and flings. The party never stopped,” he explained before he paused and took a deep breath.

“Then I met Minka, and once again, things got serious, and I cut back on the partying and the lifestyle. She liked him, and we hung out together a lot. Um—we broke up a few times but got back together for the long haul and were together for about two years.”

It was then you saw the crack in his calm demeanor. His shoulders dropped, and the tight clench in his jaw looked painful. It took him several moments to speak again. When he did, his voice was softer. “

“One night, I go over to her place out the blue, and she’s in the hot tub with MD, and they were—yeah.” Chris was quiet for the next twenty or so seconds before he quickly spoke again. “The crazy thing was she saw me first freaked out, said my name but he didn’t budge. I remember it clearly, he said fuck him, I fuck you better, I always have.”

Your jaw dropped. Chris took a few moments to continue, but you could tell his emotions were all over the place right now. “I saw red, and we fought right there. It got really wild. I think I even remember holding his head under the water. I don’t know how I backed off, but I did and ended things told him to stay the fuck away from me and mine. We’d see each other around town from time to time, but we never spoke. I stayed out his way he stayed out of mine.”

He exaggeratedly cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck to bring his hands through his hair, giving it a mad scientist aesthetic. “

A few months after that, I found out that the reason Jessica was so cool with ending things was because she was seeing him behind my back.”

Your jaw couldn’t open any wider. All you could do was sit there stunned with wide eyes.

“Yeah. So he’d been with both my girlfriends behind my back, and I don’t know I lost it and--.”

“—Turned into that Chris, the one who didn’t trust or--.”

“Allow anyone to catch me slipping up,” he filled in.

It was all making sense. It was so insane that you hadn’t suspected before.

“So you knew who he was at the New Years' party? You knew and let me leave with him?”

Again, Chris dropped his head and heavily breathed out. “I didn’t want to interfere. It wasn’t my place, but believe me, I wanted to knock his ass into the next state when he approached you. Every fucking time I saw him with you, I just—I saw my exes all over again. They all chose him over me,” Chris quietly confessed.

He was letting you in. This was him being vulnerable, leading by example.

“They preferred him over me, then when you did too—It pissed me off. He pisses me off. You choosing him that night, and for the last few months—it hurt, Y/N.”

You were speechless yet again. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“I didn’t know any of this, Chris. How could I have ever known your history?”

“I know. I didn’t tell anyone. I never spoke about it. Scott doesn’t even know all of it.”

You cupped his bearded cheek then hugged him. “I never chose him over you, Chris.”

“Of course you did.” You could hear his scorn.

You pulled back and looked at him and made sure he was going to understand the next words that came out of your mouth.

“He was a stand-in, a pass time, a distraction.”

“From what?”

Your heart was racing, and all you could hear was the sound of it pounding in your ears. You dropped your head to his shoulder and tried to catch your breath.

“I can’t breathe.”

You couldn’t believe you were going to have a panic attack. This was yet another thing that you’d thought you’d gotten over.

“Breathe, Y/N, come on. Try to slow your breaths; take slow deep ones. Follow me.”

Chris demonstrated how he wanted you to breathe, but you struggled to mirror him.

He turned you so your legs were on the floor, then he sank before you to push your head between your legs.

“Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Calm down. Slow deep breathes. Let my voice calm you. In—out—in—out. Bring in the calm energy, release the panic. Bring in the calm energy, release the panic.”

Feeling your windpipe closing and your pores shrinking, you nearly went into severe panic mode. You tried to focus on his voice and following the instructions and the techniques you’d learned long ago, but it seemed nothing wanted to work. Chris repeated the process several more times and dreadfully slowly, but surely your breathing returned to normal, and your panic faded.

“There you go. You got it. You’re doing great, Y/N.”

When you looked up at him, you could see his worry. “I’m—okay.”

He handed you a beer, and you gulped it all down, not lowering the bottle once. When you did, you took a few deep breaths.

“Wow, I thought I’d gotten over those. I haven’t had one in six or so years.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” Chris expressed. You sat there in awe and lunged for him throwing your arms around his neck.

“I didn’t know about Charles. He never told me he knew you.”

“He wouldn’t. I’m convinced he went after you not only because you’re gorgeous but because of your connection to me. He must have thought something was going on between us.”

You gasped, then quickly pulled back and gaped at him. “Did you promise him that you’d stay away from me?”

The look on his face said it all. He had.

“Chris,” you began.

“I guess when he heard you’d be here quarantining with me, he called me and said he really wanted to make things work with you and said that he knew we had bad blood, but he swore it was water under the bridge because we were both young and dumb. He said he was falling in love with you and wanted my word I wouldn’t try to get revenge for what he did to me. He asked me to stay away from you.”

Hearing the whole story conflicting emotions filled you. On one side, you were shocked that Charles had had the nerve to do something like that, especially after what he’d done to him in the past. You were also fuming that these two men took it upon themselves to make a plan about you without you. They thought they could take control of your life like you had no say.

“Don’t blow up,” Chris said before you sprang to your feet.

“Oh, you know I’m gonna blow up. What the fuck, Chris! I can’t believe you made a promise like that.”

“I know. I don’t know why I did it. You looked happy with him.”

“If you hadn’t gotten that call, would you have tried to get your revenge? Is that what this was? Did you sleep with me as a way to get back at him?”

“What! No. that’s insane. I’d never do something like that to you. I’d never use you like that. Me sleeping with you had nothing to do with him and everything about how I feel about you!”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore!” You sat back on your side of the table and planted your forehead into your perched hands.

Chris sat in front of you again and reached for you. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N listen to me. You have to believe me. I made that promise, yes, and I intended to keep it, but over these last weeks, something has changed. He’s just an infuriating reminder of everything and my insecurities, insecurities that I thought I’d buried. I didn’t sleep with you for any devious reasons.”

They were pretty words.

“Look into my eyes,” Chris suggested. When you did, you saw him as clear as crystal. He was telling the truth.

“This is a lot, Chris.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Your phone vibrated on the table, and both your eyes went to it. Charles’s ID and face ran across the screen. Without thinking about it, you answered the phone on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hey baby. I’ve been trying to get you for a few days. I miss you.”

Chris shifted uncomfortably and moved as if he planned on getting up. You felt something flick off inside of you. You put your hand over Chris’s and looked into his eyes as you spoke.

“I don’t miss you, Charles.”

“Wha—what?”

“You heard me. I don’t think I’ve ever really missed you. I’m honestly not into you—not really. You were right; we do need time apart. A lot of time, matter of fact, I think you should delete my number.”

“Wait, wait, Y/N, what’s going on? What happened?” The panic in his voice was high. He was freaking out.

“I slept with Chris, and it was incredible.”

Three seconds of silence passed. Both you and Chris never took your eyes off of each other.

“What!”

His rage could not be missed. “That son of a bitch!”

“You’re the bitch Charles. Look at this as karma. What goes around comes around, and it looks like you just got a heaping pile of it for being a piece of shit. Don’t call me anymore. I want to leave you with one important piece of information. He fucked me better than you ever did.”

With that, you hung up and went to his contact to block and delete it.

“Wow,” Chris began.

“Hang on.” You went into your pictures and scrolled through to his folder and deleted it.

“What was that?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you said as you slid your phone away. “Done. It’s over with. He’s gone. I promise I’m not choosing him. I never was going to choose him.”

Chris stared at you for a few moments before he walked around to you to take your hand. “Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

You allowed him to lead you inside and to the bedroom. Once inside, Chris peeled off his linen pajama pants and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching for you. When you stepped between his legs, he pulled the tie of your robe while staring in your eyes. When he pushed it off your shoulders, you stood naked in front of him. He didn’t look at your body, though. Chris led you into the bed and pulled the blankets over your bodies and pulled you into his massive arms. You could feel his heart steadily thumping against your back, and soon your heartbeat matched his.

“Slow and steady?”

You remained quiet for a little while before you turned to lay on your back. Chris rolled onto you and hovered over your body. Slowly he caressed your cheek.

“Slow and steady,” you whispered back. When he kissed you, it was soft and slow. He never pushed for more, even though you could feel his hardening length. You just laid there and sensually made out. You’d been kissed tens of times before, and this was not a first. It was a first that you felt something more than physical. It was something almost like what you’d felt a long time ago, but it was very different.

You trailed your hands down his back to graze across his ass. Chris moaned and thrusted forward before he rolled off of you. “I just want to hold you. Nothing else, just—intimacy,” he whispered as he settled behind you and held you so close no one would be able to tell where he began, and you ended.

“Chris,” you began.

“Let me be the man you deserve,” Chris finished. The words were like a ton of bricks, but they didn’t painfully crash onto you. They crashed onto you in a way that made you want to say words you had no idea how even to formulate.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@disconectedswift @i-lie-here-charmed @bamakakechick @chuckbass-love @captainchrisstan @dragonballluver @buchanansebba @onetwo3000 @letsdothemonstermash @euh-say-what-now @dragonballluver @myakai13 @jillanaholland @queenwinchester2 @likesfairytales @cessamjrmr @letsdothemonstermas @melanicia @queenwinchester27 @chrisevansfanfic @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @mirmirmur @redhairedfeistynerd @nico-diangelo-grey @amazonian-strap-queen @imaslutforcaptainamerica @ibe-erynn@wintermoons @tstark-94 @shining---h somethin @cookinggurl43 @shar74nett @live-laugh-love-ki @deadpixie22 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @letsdothemonstermash @almosttherebutnot @munteanhore @blackgurlkillinit @madixii @smediumsmeatbae @jovanaprime @tashawar@rainbowkisses31 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison-00 @guardian-tn @jd-now-jq @timotheessoleil @rynabarnesrogers-reading @kemkem101 @badkittybang @blackmissfrizzle @sohalia01 @xoxloaveasre @lickmymelaninn @crist1216

@queenoftheworldisdead @reveviolet @madixii @dragonballluver @southerngracela @fanfictionaffair @sullyosully @naturalthrone22 @kittykatlow @peggyslegion @almosttherebutnot @beccacupcakesxo @rhyrhy462 @littlepreciousangel @queenshikongo3 @simply-heaven @chezdricks @mangos4u @toni9 @littleheavensangel2 @pretendlifeisnormal @imaslutforcaptainamerica @offrostandstarlight @jillanaholland @ukmkhan @cltex84 @petty-bitch-akira @musicallyinclinedthings @yourroyalthickness @niquemorris @sweetst24 @buchanansebba @cevans-fics @ukmkhan @pretendlifeisnormal @readerforwocfics @kemkem101

***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.***

#quarantine: a love story fic #q18 #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn #chris evans smut

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deliciouspeachpirate · 4 years

Text

Affectionate Newsies Headcanons Part 2

A/N OH MY GOSH I CAN’T BELIVE HOW MUCH THE FIRST ONE BLEW UP I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT!!!! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read/like/reblog it, and to those of you who left something in the tags or commented, I legit just stared at my screen smiling for the longest time, thank you all so much!! I hope you guys like this one too, and please let me know if you have requests for anything! The next one will include Spot, Specs, and Elmer (as requested by a lovely anon!), and I should have it up by Wednesday. As always, please feel free to request, and let me know what your favorite part was or if you want me to expand on something! Enjoy, and have an awesome day/night!

Race: Race is definitely one of the most affectionate newsies. Like Jack, he is constantly hanging off of someone, playfighting, knocking off caps, etc, though he is typically a bit more rough than Jack. While Jack’s conscious aim is to make sure the boys know he loves them as well as having fun, Race playfights and steals their stuff for the chance to mess with his brothers and annoy the crap out of them. He normally means well of course! He also likes to run up behind someone and lift them off the ground randomly, whether they are in a conversation, trying to sell, Race doesn’t care. Random tickle attacks are also very common, but Race CANNOT take what he dishes out, he will literally collapse on the ground and die. While Race is extremally rambunctious and is always shoving someone around, by the end of a long selling day, he is exhausted and pretty much just wants to cuddle with someone until either they all go to Jacobi’s or he randomly gets all of his energy back and leaps up to go run off some steam by annoying everyone before bed.

The major downside to Race getting all cuddly and cute when he is tired is that that he is also VERY whinny. He typically stumbles into the arms of the closest newsie, buries his face in their chest, and starts whining gibberish at them. While he will and has dragged every single newsie to the couch to cuddle at one point or another, his favorites are Albert and JoJo. JoJo absolutely loves it, and it works out well because he also just wants cuddles at the end of the day, but Albert is mildly annoyed by it. At this point the only thing he does to fight it though is groan a bit before he settles down and just lets Race have his way. Race’s all time favorite cuddle partner is, of course, his very own personal teddy bear, Spot Conlon! Its not common that he can be in Brooklyn, so when he is and the two of them can be alone, they will not stop touching each other for any reason. While he is not the best at comforting someone when they cry, often freaking out over what to say, resorting to humor, and sometimes making it worse, he is one of the littles first choices to go to if they have nightmares. He just holds them and lets them cry until they fall back asleep, sometimes humming gently to them (but don’t tell anyone!) Race loves his friends immensely, but sometimes has a hard time letting them know, so he resorts to annoying them.

Albert: Albert is one of the least affectionate newsies. He grew up with several older brothers (he still helps provide for them and his father) and never really had personal space before, so he treasures it now that he lives at the lodging house. He is fine with someone knocking shoulders with him or a punch to the shoulder, just as long as people aren’t hanging off him all the time. The boys know he doesn’t like to be touched that much, and they respect that most of the time, but sometimes someone will still put their arm over his shoulder without thinking. When that happens, Albert pretty much just lets it slide, but will nudge them off/step away if they don’t get off of him after a minute. He’s fine with Race touching him pretty much whenever though, especially because he knows that Race will respect his boundaries if he ever asks him to stop, even if it is a bit annoying at times! He will often through his arm around Race, but not really anyone else. While people often see Albert as closed off and have a hard time getting past his resting bitch face, he has a huge soft spot for the littles. He makes a point to check in with each of them everyday, often walking around Manhattan to see how their selling is going, if they need help, and to make sure they aren’t getting distracted. Everyday when he is finished selling and goes to the circulation desk to turn in his bag he always waits until each of the littles has made it back until he goes home. He can often be seen walking with a gaggle of littles following him, fighting over who gets to hold his hand or be carried next. He always makes sure that they are eating well enough and has been known to go nearly a week without food in the winter to make sure they all had something for dinner before Jack realized what was going on and stepped in. Albert also helps tuck them in at night, especially when Jack is at the theater late or is extra busy. The most physical affection Albert shows is normally a side hug or clapping someone on the shoulder if they’ve had a rough day, got into a fight, etc. (Crutchie was very surprised to get a full on hug from him when he got back from the Refuge) Albert doesn’t show his love for his friends the same way most of them do. Love and family are very hard concepts for him to grasp, as his brothers never treated him well, his mother left them for a young business man, and his father has been borderline abusive ever since, all while saying they loved each other. The only time he has ever said he loved one of the newsies was when Race got really sick one winter and it didn’t look like he was going to make it. The two of them have never spoken of it since. The most common way Albert shows his love is by noticing small things his friends like such as a certain seat at Jacobi’s, Finch’s favorite birds, or that one sandwich that Elmer likes and trying to clue them in when its available. He tries to be very subtle though and denies it if someone calls him out on it. Another very common thing for him to do is to tell the other boys to take a break if they’ve been selling a long time in the sun, if they are clearly stressed, or obviously sick. Albert saying to take a break is about the closest thing to an “I love you” that you can get.

Romeo: Our favorite hopeless romantic is pretty high on the scale of how affectionate the newsies are, but still not near JoJo and Jack’s level. Its not uncommon at all for him to walk up and give someone a hug, but he normally does it at the end of the day as people are getting back after selling as opposed to any other time. He is often a tired cuddler, but more often than not he is just pouty when he’s tired. One thing that is very common for him to do is to wrap his arms around someone and lean his head on their shoulder as everyone hangs out at Jacobi’s at the end of the day. His all time favorite thing to do is run up and grab someone’s hand while they walk and start swinging their hands inbetween them. The people he does this most often with are Les, Elmer, Crutchie, and Specs. Les and Romeo always end up swinging their hands as hard as they can and have been scolded by Davey several times for almost hurting someone. Elmer normally starts skipping with him, swinging their arms and seeing how fast they can go while keeping their steps in time, both of them sporting the dumbest gins the whole time. Romeo thinks its funny to do it to Crutchie because he is somehow almost always surprised (never opposed to it though). After his initial startled jerk, Crutchie normally just smiles at him, squeezes his hand a few times, and keeps walking. Specs is of course his favorite. Specs always gives him the warmest smile that makes Romeo melt every time and brings their intertwined hands up to place a kiss on the back of Romeo’s hand causing him to squeak and blush. Romeo also likes to hold hands with Jack, but Jack changes it to putting and arm around him while skipping down the sidewalk. One of the main ways Romeo shows affection is by randomly complementing/fliting with the boys. Most of them find it mildly annoying, but put up with him randomly popping up to tell them that their shirt really makes their eyes pop, and wow Finch, you should wear short sleeves more often. His other favorite thing to do is steal people’s hats. If their is a fight going on at the lodging house over a hat, 9 times out of 10 Romeo is the one who started it. He has gotten in trouble with Race a couple of times by stealing his cigars, but he knows Race wouldn’t actually hurt him. He and Race are very close, and Romeo often ends up climbing down from his bunk and slipping into Race’s below him. Ever since Romeo became a newsie he started seeing Race as an older brother, and while they’ve only acknowledge it once or twice during a midnight heart to heart and Race sometimes acts like he hates him by day, the two of them always look out for ad love each other very much.

#newsies #newsies headcanons #affectionate newsies #race higgins #albert dasilva #romeo #hope you all like this!

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prettyinsoulpunk · 4 years

Text

Red Light

I wrote a new thing! Or rather, finished yet another one. I’m off work for a few days so the plan is to crush as many WIPs as possible. (so far, so good! ✔) I have one major holiday Narry one that I’ve been working on forever, but I’m crushing that too! 🙌

Anyway, I’m not sure why my new one didn’t show up in the AO3 Narry feed so I could reblog it, but it’s short so I’ll just post it here. I finished it last night, so you can also read it on AO3 if you prefer. (Same username, and my link is in the bio. I would link it here but then it won’t show up in the Narry tag.)

Anyway, on with the fic!

Red Light

(90% Narry fluff with a tiny side of angst, 3.5K)

"It's just something my parents used to do when I was little," Niall laughs as he tries to squirm out of Harry's reach. "Whenever we got stuck like this, one of them would say 'red light' and then they would lean in and snog each other. I was only five when they got divorced, but sometimes I miss little things like that."

Or, the one where I read about someone doing this, and I thought it would make an adorable Narry fic. Enjoy! :)

~*~

"Red light," Niall mutters, grinning to himself as he and Harry pull up to another crowded intersection. That's typical for Los Angeles though, and mildly annoying since there are so many other places that Niall would rather spend time with Harry.

"What?" Harry asks as he glances over at Niall.

"Nothing, sorry," Niall blushes as he realizes he must have said it out loud. "Just thinking."

"Tell me what you meant," Harry prods as he reaches over and tickles Niall's stomach.

"That's adorable," Harry smiles. "Have you ever done that with anyone?"

Niall shakes his head. "I've thought about it, but I've never actually done it."

"Aw," Harry says as the car lurches forward again. He's driving, so he turns his attention back to the road when the light changes. "You're such a hopeless romantic, Niall Horan."

"Do you want to be the pot or the kettle?" Niall teases because Harry is the most romantic person Niall knows.

"Kettle, please," Harry giggles.

"Anyway," Niall continues, "I still think about that sometimes. Kinda always stuck with me, I guess."

"How come you've never mentioned it before?" Harry asks, eyeing him curiously.

Niall just shrugs. "I don't think about it as much when I'm with other people, I suppose."

"But you thought about it just now, with me," Harry points out.

"And?" Niall tries to sound casual, though he can feel his pulse racing.

"That I'm special," Harry beams as he reaches over to pinch Niall's cheek. "I'm totally your favorite."

"You wish," Niall snorts, even though they both know it's the absolute truth.

Twenty minutes later, they've barely made it a couple of miles and Niall is starting to get restless.

"I love L.A., but I could really do without all of this traffic," he huffs. "Not that London is much better."

"Same," Harry agrees. "At least it's a beautiful day, though and I had a lot of fun," he smiles over at Niall.

"Me too," Niall says softly. It really had been a perfect day. They spent most of it at their favorite beach in Malibu, and then they picked up some Japanese take-out that they ate while sitting on the hood of Harry's car at the far end of the parking lot. The restaurant was quite busy, but Niall was able to rush in and pick up their order without anyone noticing him.

Overall, it had been an amazing afternoon despite the traffic they're currently stuck in. It could be worse, though. Niall is with his favorite person in the world, in one of his favorite cities in the world, so there's not really much to complain about.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry says after a few minutes of silence. For good measure, he reaches into one of his cup holders and pulls out a penny that he hands to Niall.

"Is that all my thoughts are worth to you?" Niall smirks.

Harry rolls his eyes but Niall can see him biting back a smile. "It's just an expression, Niall. I was wondering what you were thinking about, that's all."

"That I wish we weren't stuck here," Niall lies. Well, it's not a complete lie. Even though he loves being with Harry, he has very little patience for traffic. He's also not about to admit to Harry how much he's been thinking about their afternoon together.

"It'll ease up soon," Harry assures him as he reaches over to pat Niall's knee.

"What are you thinking about?" Niall counters.

"Kissing," Harry answers honestly. "First kisses, in particular. You know that moment when you finally kiss someone for the first time and it feels like fireworks going off around you?"

"Y-yeah," Niall stutters because he honestly wasn't expecting that at all.

"I love that moment," Harry says. "Kissing is always nice, but there's just something extra special about a first kiss with someone that steals your breath away," he wistfully adds.

Niall isn't sure what to say to that. Harry seems lost in thought like he's got someone particular in mind. Niall wants to ask, but he doesn't really want to hear about Harry kissing anyone else.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Niall answers finally. "Been a while for me, though. I mean, since I snogged anyone," he adds.

"Me too actually," Harry laughs. "I think you were the last person I kissed, remember that?"

Niall definitely remembers. It was a few months ago on New Year's Eve, and they were both sitting on Niall's couch when the countdown started. Niall wasn't expecting anything to happen, but the second it turned midnight, Harry leaned over and planted a wet, uncoordinated kiss right on Niall's lips. He had been drinking though, which always made him overly affectionate so Niall didn't really think much of it. Harry likes to kiss his friends, (Niall included) even when he's sober, so it's not like it had been a grand declaration of his feelings.

"You mean when you drunkenly slobbered all over me? How could I forget," Niall teases. It wasn't their best kiss by far, but it still made him feel warm all over.

"Heeeeeey," Harry frowns, "it wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Well, it wasn't anything like the fairytale kiss you just described, but it was fine, H. I'm just taking the piss," Niall tells him.

"Fine?" Harry deadpans. "Please, don't swoon too much, Niall; try to contain yourself."

"Harry - "

"You're so good for the ego," Harry grumbles. He's not actually mad - Niall can definitely tell the difference - but he also knows when Harry's at least somewhat annoyed.

"Hey," Niall says as he unbuckles his seatbelt so he can move closer to Harry. "I was seriously just teasing you. It was a nice kiss, I promise," he finishes as he leans over and kisses Harry's shoulder affectionately.

Harry gives him an irritated look. "Nice? That's basically just another word for fine, Niall."

"Are you actually mad about this?" Niall asks as he sits back up.

Harry softens at that and reaches out to give Niall's hand a squeeze. "No, of course not, Ni. It's just a bit embarrassing, that's all. Not my finest moment, I guess."

"At least it wasn't our first kiss," Niall offers. "That was pretty special, wasn't it? I mean, I know we were only teenagers and just kind of figuring some stuff out about ourselves, but it really meant a lot to me."

"Really?" Harry grins.

"Yeah," Niall nods as he brings their joined hands up to his lips and kisses Harry's knuckles.

That entire weekend felt like a dream to Niall. On a whim, he had invited Harry to visit him and his family in Mullingar, but he was still shocked when Harry showed up. Not that he thought Harry didn't want to come see him, but they were still pretty young. Barely sixteen and seventeen respectively, so he was surprised that Anne had let Harry travel alone.

One night, they had been sharing a bottle of Guinness that they nicked from the fridge when everyone was asleep. They weren't drunk, but they were cuddled up together in Niall's bed talking about anything and everything.

That's when Harry told Niall that he liked boys more than girls, romantically speaking. As much as Niall had been hoping that was the case, he didn't actually know for sure until then. He had his suspicions, but it wasn't something they had discussed yet.

Niall liked boys too, even if only in theory since he hadn't actually kissed one before.

"I could be your first," Harry had offered sweetly.

"Really?" Niall asked, wide-eyed. You want to kiss me?

"Why wouldn't I? I mean, unless you don't want to, but - "

Niall didn't even let Harry finish his sentence before he was immediately leaning into his space and kissing him softly.

It took a second for Harry's brain to catch up, but then he wrapped his arms around Niall's neck and started kissing back. Slowly at first, just brushing their lips together, and then he added a bit of pressure before dipping his tongue into Niall's mouth.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but every part of Niall's skin burned from Harry's touch. His mouth was warm, tasting faintly of Guinness and he could still feel the heat from Harry's palm where he held it against Niall's cheek.

"I definitely wanted to," Niall laughed against Harry's lips. "Been thinking about it for a while, if I'm honest."

"I'm glad I could help," Harry smiled before leaning in and kissing Niall again. It was just a friendly peck the second time, but it made Niall realize that Harry obviously didn't understand what Niall was trying to tell him.

Niall was too embarrassed at that point to bother trying again, and he really didn't want to make things weird. The band had only just recently been put together too, so Niall really didn't want any potential drama between them.

Even though Harry didn't feel the same way about him, that weekend still holds a really special place in Niall's heart. He and Harry were nearly inseparable after that, and Niall would much rather have Harry as his best friend than not have him at all.

"Wanna know a secret?" Niall asks before releasing Harry's hand.

"Of course," Harry smiles warmly.

"That was actually my first kiss ever," Niall admits. "Well, my first real kiss, anyway. Since I don't technically count the one I had when I was twelve."

"That bad, huh?" Harry teases. "I barely even remember my first kiss, if it's any consolation."

"No, not bad," Niall shakes his head. "Just kind of quick and awkward. Our lips barely touched for a split second and that was it. We were at a party and I hardly knew the girl. It wasn't like kissing someone I actually fancy, y'know?"

"Someone you fancy, eh?" Harry asks, giving Niall a sly grin.

"Oh, piss off," Niall reaches out to shove Harry playfully. "You're such a narcissistic twat. I just meant that - "

"You wanted to kiss me?" Harry finishes.

"Shut it," Niall glares. "They were just two very different kinds of kisses, that's all. I think we were playing some random party game that first time, so it wasn't like - "

"Kissing someone you fancy," Harry winks. "Yeah, I got that."

"Bitch," Niall laughs, despite the way his heart feels like it might beat right out of his chest. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Eventually," Harry says. "I suppose it's a bit hypocritical of me, though. Wanna know a secret of mine?"

"Sure," Niall nods as he reaches for his mostly empty water bottle and takes a swig. It's unpleasantly warm at this point, but at least it gives him something to do while he waits for Harry to continue.

"I had the biggest crush on you back then," Harry tells him. "Although, who could blame me? You were the cutest boy I'd ever met," he adds and reaches over to ruffle Niall's hair.

"You…what?" Niall sputters as his water bottle slips through his fingers and hits the floor. It causes water to spray all over them, but luckily Harry isn't too fussy about that sort of thing. Had this been Niall's own car, he would already be pulling over to wipe down the interior.

"Didn't we swim enough at the beach?" Harry teases as he uses the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the water from his face and steering wheel.

"Sorry," Niall mumbles as he reaches for his towel and dabs at the spots on Harry's dashboard.

"Don't worry about it," Harry smiles.

"You really had a crush on me?" Niall asks a moment later. "Or are you just fucking with me?"

"No, I really did," Harry says. "You couldn't tell? I wasn't exactly subtle about it. Lou used to tease me every chance he got, that's why he was always moving over so I could sit next to you. Like during interviews and stuff," Harry adds.

"What?" This is all too much for Niall's brain to process. "Tommo knew?"

"Yeah," Harry laughs. "He was always being a dick about it too. I begged him not to tell you though, because I didn't want to make things weird."

"Oh my God," Niall groans as he covers his face with his hands. "We're such fucking idiots. Harry, I liked you too! I just thought you and Tommo - "

"Do not finish that sentence," Harry warns. He's mostly joking, but Niall can still detect an edge of sincerity.

"I knew you weren't dating," Niall says, "but I thought you liked him. You were always flirting, and you spent like every waking moment together for those first few months."

"Well yeah," Harry agrees, "we got on really well and he immediately became one of my best mates, but that was it. Half the time we spent together it was mostly just me whining about how much I liked you. We just had so much going on at the time and I didn't want to screw anything up between us. Plus I had no idea if you felt the same way."

"Are you kidding me? Of course I did!" Niall is a bit hysterical at this point, but there's no stopping him now. "I've done nothing but steadily fall in love with you since the day we met, Harry. This is why literally every relationship of mine has crashed and burned. It's kind of hard to date someone when you're already in love with someone else."

"What?" Harry demands as the car comes to a screeching halt at the next intersection. "You're in love with me? Like, now?"

"Did any of that sound like past tense to you?" Niall snaps. It comes out a bit more harshly than he intended, but he's trying to prepare himself for the rejection that's coming. Harry might have had a crush on him once upon a time, but he certainly hasn't spent years pining the way Niall has.

"Well no," Harry shakes his head, "I'm just processing, that's all."

"Okay, well you do that, then," Niall says as he turns to look out the window. The conversation is obviously far from over, but Niall could kick himself for opening his big mouth.

Yeah, he and Harry have always had this undeniable chemistry between them, but it's not like they've ever taken it to the next level. They've kissed before, and they're generally affectionate with each other, but Niall has always been good about keeping his feelings in check.

Now he's gone and fucked it all up.

Well, maybe not. Logically, he knows their friendship is solid enough to survive this, but things might just be awkward for a while. Especially since it's not like Harry feels the same way. There were a few times where Niall thought they might be on the same page, but it's not something they've ever explored further than casual kisses or touches.

Although to be fair, it's not like they've really had the time. Not lately, anyway. Ever since the band went on break and they began their solo careers, Niall and Harry don't get to hang out together as much as they would like. Still, they always make time for each other, and rarely ever let more than a couple of months go by without reconnecting.

So now, Niall has this dull ache in his stomach because he's not sure what's going to happen next. He wants to ask what Harry is thinking, but Harry hasn't said a word since Niall turned away from him. There are so many ways that Niall wishes Harry could have found out, not just him blurting it out in the heat of the moment.

He can't take his words back though, and he can practically feel Harry vibrating next to him.

Harry is not fond of awkward silences, but Niall appreciates that Harry is at least trying to give him some space. Or as much as he possibly can, considering the fact that they're trapped in his tiny car, just minutes after Niall dropped a verbal bomb on him.

On the bright side, traffic seems to be easing up at least. The streets of L.A. are flying by now, as opposed to the snail's pace they were crawling at only minutes before. Niall is happy he'll be home soon, though he's sure Harry isn't going to let him off the hook that easily. Harry still hasn't spoken again, but now he's singing along with Fleetwood Mac as Go Your Own Way comes up next on his playlist.

Loving you isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change the things I feel?

Well, that's just great. Clearly the universe is punishing Niall.

They're finally almost to Niall's place when they get stuck at yet another major intersection. It's one of the longest traffic lights in Hollywood, so Niall groans as the car comes to a stop. What's even worse, is the fact that Harry started slowing down instead of speeding up like he normally would.

"You totally could have made that light," Niall whines as he finally breaks the silence between them. He doesn't mean to sound like such a baby, but he really just wants to get home.

He especially needs to talk to Louis, because Louis always has good advice for him. No, maybe he should call Liam instead. Louis will probably just tease him about why it took Niall so long to come clean about his feelings.

Scratch that, what Niall really needs is a gallon of cookie dough ice cream and a case of Guinness. Maybe two.

"I know," Harry says as he leans over, right into Niall's space. The sun is starting to set now, so it creates a golden glow all around them.

"What's happening?" Niall asks as Harry continues to sway closer.

"Red light," Harry explains, just before he leans in and presses his mouth against Niall's. He lingers for a bit, just long enough to make his intentions clear before he pulls back.

"Wow," Niall blushes. "So does that mean - " Niall starts, but Harry shuts him up with another kiss. They've got at least another minute or so before the light changes, so Niall's not about to argue.

"Is that how you imagined it?" Harry asks when they break apart.

"Way better, actually."

"I aim to please," Harry winks.

"So, are we going to talk about it, or - "

"I'm still processing," Harry tells him.

"Oh. Okay, then." Niall can certainly take a hint, but he feels a lot better about the whole situation than he did ten minutes ago. He can also see the smirk tugging at Harry's lips, which means Harry probably already knows what he wants to say. He's just going to torture Niall a bit more because he's secretly a chaotic demon.

"So, I've thought about it," Harry says when they pull into Niall's driveway.

Here we go.

Niall's stomach swoops a bit, but he's cautiously optimistic that Harry's not going to reject him as he initially feared. And if he does, Niall will probably punch him in his perfect teeth.

"And?" Niall asks, as Harry shuts the car off and unbuckles his seatbelt.

"I'm glad that at least one of us has a functioning brain," Harry laughs. "I've been putting off this conversation for a while now because I wasn't exactly sure how you felt. I mean, I hoped you felt the same way, but it just never seemed like the right time to bring it up. Between our albums, and tours, and promo, it's like we're barely together long enough to catch up, much less anything else," Harry finishes in a breathless rush.

"I can definitely relate," Niall says as he crawls his way right onto Harry's lap. It takes a bit of shuffling for them to get comfortable, but then Niall is cupping Harry's jaw and kissing him slowly.

He probably should have done a cursory scan of the street to make sure there were no paps around, but Niall really couldn't care less at this moment. Not when he's got Harry in his arms and they're finally on the same page.

"Stop distracting me," Harry teases when they pull apart. "I'm trying to use my words, Niall."

"Sorry, love," Niall giggles as he pulls back and slides his arms around Harry's neck. "Go on."

"I love you," Harry says simply. "I feel like I should have prepared a speech, but I wasn't expecting to have this conversation today."

"Me either," Niall admits. "I don't need any speeches, though. Just knowing you feel the same way is more than enough for me," Niall grins as he leans forehead against Harry's.

"I do, baby, I love you so much," Harry murmurs as he takes Niall's face into his hands and brushes his thumbs over Niall's cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I promise I'll make up for lost time."

"I'm holding you to that," Niall says as he grips Harry by the front of his T-shirt and kisses him again.

~*~

#Narry #Niall Horan #Harry Styles #everything we do #my loves #my writing #ps I hope this looks okay on mobile #it looks okay on my desktop #but hopefully mobile doesn't screw up the formatting #like usual #Red Light

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

Note

Hello again! 🥰 I’ve picked out two prompts from one of the lists you’ve reblogged. I hope that is okay and it works when I send the ask this time. But can I please request a Jaskier x female reader fic with the prompts “You’ve shown me what love can feel like.” + “Why are you crying?” + “I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.” ✨ Thanks so much!!

A/N: After all of that slightly confusing back and forth and me learning how to navigate the tumblr inbox system, I finally have your request finished. I actually only managed to fit two of your three prompts in, but I hope you enjoy it all the same :) Word Count: 1442Content Warning: mild swearing, self-depreciation/self-hatred, mildly angsty

“Y/N?” you heard your best friend call out, following you away from the market. “Y/N, where did you go?”

Still, you forged onward, desperate to put as much distance as you could between you and…well everyone, even him, especially him.

Eventually your quick footsteps carried you to a wide, rapid-flowing river which halted your progress. You couldn’t hear much around you over the roar of the water and with a sudden, overwhelming exhaustion, you dropped to sit on its banks. You tucked your knees up to your chest and let out a wrenching sob, serving to open the floodgates and all of the pain and rage and misery that had been filling you came pouring forth.

“Y/N,” Jaskier panted, out of breath as he came upon you. “There you are! You ran off and I was so worried.” Relief gave way to concern as he dropped to a seat beside you. “Why are you crying?”

When his arms came up to encircle you, you flinched away from him and immediately they dropped back to his side.

“Y/N, please. Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

You swiped angrily at the hot tears that rolled steady tracks down your face, shooting him a glare that might have been called withering if your eyes hadn’t been damp.

“I should consider myself lucky that looks cannot kill,” he tried to tease, voice too tight with confusion and concern to ring truly, “or else I would have dropped dead here among the bracken.”

“You really don’t know how to take a fucking hint do you Jaskier?” you snapped, pulling even further away, as far as you could get without actually rising from your seat to move. “I don’t want to talk.”

“But—“ he started, entreating.

“No! No buts. You flit about, always talking. You don’t seem to get that some of us aren’t enamored with the sound of our own voice the way you are. All you do is talk or push others to. Gods, like that’s going to fix anything!” There were more tears mixed with your snarl.

“Stop.” His voice was stern, almost cold, but you could see the hurt in his cornflower blue eyes. Gently, he took you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “I understand that you are in pain from something. And if you don’t want to talk about it, I suppose I can’t force you to. But you can’t solve your problem by pushing everyone away when they try to care.”

“Yes I can,” you muttered, half under your breath and hoping that he wouldn’t hear it.

“No. All you’ll do is leave yourself to deal with the hurt alone.”

“If no one can get close, there won’t be a hurt to deal with.” You avert your eyes from his gaze, now intently focused on you, and feel yourself wilting beneath his hands.

“So you’re planning to become a hermit beside this river then for the rest of your days?”

“If that’s what it takes, then I shall build myself a lovely hovel here.” His teasing was infectious and you tried your hardest to remain upset with him even as you joined in the joke.

“Y/N, my love, I am begging you to tell me what happened today that made such a lovely, hopeful afternoon turn so sour and sending you running off into the woods apparently determined to spend the rest of your life in isolation.”

Your heart fluttered painfully against your ribcage at his words. The two of you had been friends for ages and often called each other increasingly ridiculous pet names, much to Geralt’s annoyance at times, but he had never called you that, especially not with such genuine, aching tenderness.

“Oh don’t tell me you didn’t notice.” You rolled your eyes, resting your chin against your kneecaps.

“Notice what?” he chuckled ruefully. “I have to admit, Y/N, I was distracted this afternoon.”

‘Of course he was,’ you thought with a sinking feeling. ‘It’s not like you mean anything special to him.’

You sighed and bit your lip, hesitating before deciding to let it all spill out. You told him how the afternoon and the disparaging comment from the flower seller, aimed at the pair of you and telling him to buy a sunflower for his “charity case,” had been the last straw. You tried to explain how small and pathetic you felt following him about when he never even looked twice at you. How there were times, especially in taverns late at night, when disparaging comments had given way to sneered threats from people far prettier than you who felt that you were an obstacle to overcome to be with him.

He sucked air in through his teeth. “Why haven’t you ever said anything, Y/N? I would have…I don’t know fed them their own tongues for daring to say such things to you! I’m so sorry.”

You looked up at him and were almost relieved that you saw only sorrow where you had dreaded to see pity. You shrugged and let your gaze fall once more to some distant point past him.

“I didn’t think it mattered. I mean it’s not like any of them would have acted on it…probably. One or two of them did scare me a bit honestly, but…I don’t matter, so why would what they say to me?”

“You don’t…” shock and confusion twisted his face. “Y/N, no. No no no no no. Where would you get the idea that you don’t matter?”

“Like it’s not plain as day. Geralt never even put up a fight on me coming along because I’m not even worth rating as an inconvenience. You spend time with me when you have no one better. Yennefer talks to me when she needs someone to not interrupt her. But, if I disappeared tomorrow, none of you would actually be worse off for it. I’m just…stage scenery.”

“You don’t get it, do you Y/N?” he sighed, voice dropping low. “All of those things that you just said are what makes you so incredibly special. Geralt was willing to let you come because you’re one of the few people who have never reacted in fear or hate toward him. Yennefer actually trusts you enough to come to you when she needs to talk and respects you enough to answer when you have questions. And you like me for me. Time with you isn’t about my music, or you trying to get into Geralt’s good graces, or what I might be able to do for you.”

He gently caressed your cheek, brushing away a lingering tear.

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like. When it’s infused into daily actions, when it’s just a part of you instead of some grand, performative thing. I’ve never thought it needed to be said that I love you, Y/N, because it just feels so right and natural that I assumed it was obvious. Had I only known I would have told you a thousand times a day, and if you would have it of me, I will be sure to do exactly that for the rest of our lives.”

You laughed, taking his face between his hands, eyes searching desperately for some sign that what he said was true and not just placating, meaningless words. The pure adoration that shown in his eyes, the soft ‘oh’ of his mouth, the telltale heat of blush beneath your fingers, all told you that he meant every syllable. So you did the only thing that seemed right in the circumstances.

You kissed him, passionately. Your lips moved against each other, tongues dancing questingly. His hands clutched desperately at the soft flesh of your waist, pulling you closer to straddle his lap, and yours slid back away from where they rested, to tangle and tug at his soft brown hair. He moaned as he broke the kiss, panting breathlessly.

“A thousand times a day may be a tad excessive,” you said with a smile. “But if you insist on it, I suppose you are welcome to try. I won’t be held responsible if the attempt annoys Geralt into killing you, though.”

He laughed, a sunny sound that chased off your worries and soothed your heartache. He dusted light, teasing kisses across your cheeks and jaw, down your neck and back up again.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered earnestly, lips just barely brushing yours. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You interrupted his adoring chant by leaning forward to capture his lips once more, determined to say it back just as many times without ever needing words.

#Jaskier x Reader #The Witcher #The Witcher fic #reader insert #Jaskier #requests #thank you for the prompt combo #2/3 ain't bad (but if you were really set on all 3 just let me know and I'll give it another shot)#'Fair' may have had some influence #see if you can spot

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sesamestreep · 4 years

Text

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 4)

(Read on AO3)

(start from the beginning)

SUMMARY: Jyn gets some much needed tough love from the band. She also gets soup.

A/N: Here’s a shorter chapter to break up the other, more dramatic chapters. A palate cleanser, if you will. An amuse bouche, if I may. Fewer warnings needed on this one, I feel like, since it’s mostly about the power of friendship, but there’s still some talk of pregnancy and abortion here as well. Follow the AO3 link for more detailed tags. If you’ve liked/commented/kudos-ed/reblogged anything from this series so far, I really appreciate it and I wish I could make you all some soup because you deserve it.

“So,” Chirrut says, clapping his hands together and officially bringing their meeting to order, “how has everyone’s week been so far?”

As Jyn expected, Baze and Bodhi immediately turn their attention to her, since they clearly all discussed this beforehand and planned to gang up on her.

“I hate all of you,” she says, picking up Baze and Chirrut’s cat from the floor where she’s been weaving between everyone’s ankles and dropping her onto her lap. The cat immediately curls up over Jyn’s stomach, despite the fact that she’s not visibly pregnant at all, and Baze hums thoughtfully, which makes Jyn scowl. “Shut up,” she adds, without much heat.

“I didn’t say anything,” Baze says with an exaggerated shrug.

“I can hear what you’re thinking.”

“You’re starting to sound like him,” he replies, cocking his head towards Chirrut, who smiles broadly in response.

“We’re anxious to know how you’re doing,” Chirrut says.

“Oh, I’m sure Bodhi’s already told you everything,” Jyn says, shooting a glare in Bodhi’s direction.

“I’ve told them everything I know,” he replies easily. “Which is not the same as, well, everything .”

“I told you how my conversation with Cassian went, which is what I assume you all care about, so you should be caught up.”

“Okay, first of all, that was like...four days ago,” Bodhi says, counting off on his fingers. “And secondly, I asked how your conversation with Cassian went and you said ‘fine’ and then ignored my texts for two days!”

“Well, I—”

“And thirdly , that is not ‘all we care about’! We love you, we want to know how you’re doing!”

Jyn flings her head back on the couch petulantly, only giving up on her sulk when she feels Baze’s hand on her shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze, but when she turns towards him, he’s giving her a stern look.

“He’s right, you know,” he says, solemnly.

“Ugh, fine,” she says, sitting up and mildly annoying the cat that’s still curled in her lap. She scratches her behind the ears to make up for it. “What do you want to know?”

“How are you feeling?” Chirrut asks.

“Fine,” Jyn answers with a shrug, and then sees Bodhi’s unimpressed look and decides to elaborate. “I’ve been a little moody, I guess.”

“No, he means since you’ve been pregnant,” Bodhi says, laughing, and Jyn swats him.

“Asshole,” she replies, but there’s no heat to it. “I’ve been moodier . How’s that?”

“Much better, thank you.”

Jyn hums, considering what else to add. “I haven’t had much of an appetite. Also, I've been sleeping like crap, but that’s probably stress over the appointment.”

“That’s Friday, right?” Baze asks, before taking a sip of his tea.

She nods. “Bodhi’s going with me, so no one has to worry.”

“We’ll worry anyway, just to be safe,” Chirrut says cheerfully, which makes Baze hide his smile in his mug. “How did Cassian take the news?”

“Why don’t you ask Bodhi?” Jyn says with an eye roll. “He’s the one who told him.”

Bodhi scowls at that. “In my defense, he came back to our apartment from dinner with you looking thoughtful, and I knew you’d been trying to tell him, so I just assumed he already knew! How was I supposed to know you chickened out and abandoned him at the restaurant?”

Jyn thinks about swatting at him again, but she’s fairly certain that Baze and Chirrut’s cat would not take it too kindly if she jostles her one more time.

“You left him at the restaurant?” Baze asks, alarmed.

“No, I—okay, so, technically, I did, but it was…it's complicated!” When that doesn’t seem to pacify anyone, she adds, “he was being cute to a baby at the next table and I freaked out and left, okay? Bodhi still shouldn’t have told him.”

“I thought he knew already,” Bodhi cries. “You didn’t see his face! He looked very confused! I was trying to offer my support!”

“That’s just Cassian’s face!”

“Maybe around you, it is.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bodhi looks heavenward for a moment, as if praying for the patience to deal with her. “I just mean that...I think maybe Cassian doesn’t know how to read you. Not the way we do.”

Jyn looks around at the others, whose facial expressions give away nothing, except that they’re listening intently. “Well,” she says, “that makes sense, I guess. He doesn’t know me as well as you do.”

“No,” Baze says, carefully. “But I think he’d like to.”

She can’t do anything in response to that except blink at him in confusion. “What?” She finally asks, after what feels like several minutes.

“I think he likes you, Jyn,” Bodhi says, far too gently. “I think he was really happy you asked him to dinner the other night and he was disappointed when you left without explaining.”

“He knows now,” she interjects. “I explained what happened when he came over later.”

“I know, I just think...he wanted you to call him for another reason.”

“Yeah, well, so did I,” Jyn says, petulantly. “It’s not like I wanted to be pregnant.”

“That’s not really what I meant,” Bodhi says, and his tone is lightly chiding, which just makes her pout more. “I meant that I was a little surprised he came home from your place at all that night.”

“What, did you think I was gonna axe murder him?”

He frowns at her. “No, dummy, I thought he was going to tell you how he felt!”

“‘How he felt’??” Jyn repeats. “What does that mean?”

“I give up,” Bodhi says, throwing his hands up.

“I just don’t understand!”

“Listen,” Chirrut says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “We know it’s been a rough few months for you. The breakup was terrible and with Saw’s health getting worse and now being pregnant, this can’t be an easy situation for you to deal with. But surely, even with all of that going on, you must see that Cassian has feelings for you.”

Jyn laughs before she can’t stop herself, but no one else joins her. They don’t even crack a smile, they just keep looking at her with concern. “That’s not true,” she says, with more confidence than she feels. “Don’t joke about that.”

“He’s not joking,” Baze says. “It’s true.”

“Cassian told you that?”

“He didn’t have to. It’s obvious from the way he looks at you.”

“And from the way he talks about you,” Bodhi adds. “He’s seriously asked about you a hundred times this week alone.”

“Well, that’s because he’s worried,” Jyn says. “Because I’m pregnant and he feels bad. Not because he likes me. And if he looks at me in any sort of special way, it’s because he feels bad for me. Because of the breakup and everything.”

“Oh, I get it,” Bodhi says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic somehow. “He only had sex with you out of pity.”

“Yeah,” she replies, half heartedly. “That’s gotta be it.”

“Bullshit,” he fires back. “He’s had a thing for you since he met you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jyn practically shouts. “I—I had a boyfriend when he met me.”

That remark earns her an eye roll. “Yeah, and no one’s ever had a thing for someone they couldn’t have before.”

“So, what? You think he was just waiting around for me and Reece to break up so he could have a shot with me?”

“Of course not! But I don’t think he was miserable to hear that it had finally happened.”

“If he was so excited for me to be single, why did I have to make the first move? Why didn’t he call me afterwards? Why didn’t he say anything about wanting to date me at any point in the last few months?”

The guys are quiet once she’s finished, but not in a way that makes her feel like she’s stumped them. Rather, it feels like they can’t decide who’s going to tell her she’s wrong first.

“Like we said,” Chirrut finally pipes up, “he doesn’t know you as well as we do. Maybe he doubts your feelings for him.”

“My feelings?” Jyn asks, flabbergasted. “For him? I don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Jyn,” Bodhi says, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place if you didn’t have feelings for him.”

“I know this is hard for you to believe, since you’re some sort of Disney prince when it comes to relationships, but sometimes people just have sex because they’re horny and they feel like it,” she snaps.

He has the audacity to shrug in response. “Sure, but that’s not why you did it.”

“Oh, right! Because you know how I feel better than I do! How could I have forgotten?”

“Normally, I would never presume to tell someone else how they feel,” Bodhi says, putting his hand to his heart and everything, “but, in this one particular case, and just because you’re so terrible with emotions, I’m telling you: you like him too. Trust me.”

“I am not terrible with emotions,” she scoffs.

“Well…you’re not great with them either,” Chirrut says, with a shrug.

“Okay, fine! Let’s say you’re all right; I do have feelings for Cassian. What good does it do me? I already slept with him, made him feel like a rebound, didn’t call him for two months afterwards, and then bulldozed my way back into his life by telling him I’m pregnant. What sort of guy would still be interested in me after all that?”

“Cassian would,” Bodhi says simply, as if she’s the dumbest human being in the universe. “As long as it’s you, he’ll still be interested.”

Jyn closes her eyes, because now would be a stupid time to cry, especially since she’s trying to convince them she doesn’t care about Cassian and crying over someone is a textbook example of caring about them. She can’t even think about what they’re saying, because she isn’t allowed to think about Cassian like that. She’s attracted to him, sure, but sleeping with him was supposed to get it out of her system. And it should have. The only reason sleeping with him wouldn’t have helped is if they’re right and she does actually have feelings for him. And that would really suck, because there’s absolutely no way he feels the same way about her; not after everything she’s put him through.

“If I agree to take everything you’ve said tonight under advisement,” Jyn says carefully, without opening her eyes, “can we please talk about something else right now?”

Baze puts his hand on her shoulder again, which makes her look over at him. “Of course,” he says, and she smiles at him weakly in response.

An hour or so later, she and Bodhi shuffle out of Baze and Chirrut’s apartment to head home for the night, without so much as a moment’s rehearsal on anyone’s part, despite that being the actual reason they supposedly got together tonight. Once they’re out in the night air, Bodhi claps his mittened hands together to ward off the cold and they head for the subway together.

“I can’t believe those bozos made me soup,” Jyn says, perching her chin on the top of the tupperware that Baze had shoved into her hands before she left, on the grounds that she wouldn’t want to make dinner for herself on Friday after her appointment and so he and Chirrut had made something for her to take home so she wouldn’t starve. It had been another close call for her almost crying.

“Well, they love you,” Bodhi says, slightly muffled because he’s buried his chin in his scarf. “And so do I. We just want you to be happy.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little hard on you earlier.”

Jyn wants to wave his apology away, but she’s a little worried about dropping the container she’s holding, so she just shakes her head instead. “You weren’t.”

Bodhi looks down at his feet as he walks. “I was, a little. I just get so frustrated when you talk like you don’t deserve nice things.”

“I never said that.”

“Not directly, but,” he pauses, clearly searching for the right words, “I watched the way things ended with you and Reece, and you were mad at him, sure, but a lot of the time, the way you talked, it was like you were mad at yourself. Like, you thought you deserved what he did to you, and if you’d been a better girlfriend or a better person, you could have stopped it from happening. And that’s bullshit.”

Jyn stops short, right there on the sidewalk. “I don’t think that,” she says, but it’s a faint protest. She knows she’s had that thought before, more than once, and she’s sure she got drunk enough at some point to even say it to Bodhi.

Luckily for her, he doesn’t cite his sources with a drunken text from her or anything like that. He just looks at her, with obvious concern, and says, “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right. Someone who’s never going to make you doubt how they feel.”

“And you think Cassian is that person for me?” she asks, trying to sound incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Bodhi says, shrugging helplessly. “But you don’t know either, and you won’t ever know unless you give him a chance.”

Jyn starts walking again while she processes that and he follows her lead. When he’s caught up with her, she moves in close to elbow him in the ribs.

“Being in love with Taidu has really made you into a hopeless romantic,” she teases.

“I’ve always been a hopeless romantic,” he grumbles, making her laugh. “But now I speak from experience.”

She smiles at that, holding her tupperware of soup close to her chest. “What you said before,” she says, quietly, “were you serious? Cassian really asks about me?”

“All the time,” Bodhi says, smiling. “He knows I was meeting you tonight, so I bet he’ll ask about you within the first five minutes I’m home.”

Jyn rolls her eyes at that, but the idea of it thrills her, making her cheeks warm even in the cold night air. “I’m sure he won’t,” she says, faintly, because there’s a foolish part of her that really wants Bodhi to be right.

“I’m serious,” he replies. “I’d put money on it.”

“Well, so would I.”

Bodhi sticks out a hand for her to shake, which she readily accepts, once she’s switched her soup to the other hand. “It’s a deal, then?” He asks.

She laughs. “Deal.”

It’s only later, once they’ve parted ways at the subway station and she’s made her way back to her apartment, that her phone buzzes with a new text: You owe me five bucks . Jyn allows herself a stupid, giddy smile at Bodhi’s message, since she’s alone in her own home and no one can judge her for it.

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stories-in-the-stars · 5 years

Text

That Which Belongs to the Sea

Ao3 links in the reblogs!

Chapter 2

Of Walking, Running, and Dancing Around the Truth

Lance kicked his legs once, then twice, splashing in the water as he did. This was real! He was really human! He was immediately taken up by a fit of silent but elated giggles. He continued kicking his legs, marvelling at the sensation of having them at all. Nearby, Hunk and Allura watched him with less than enthused expressions.

“He’s really done it, hasn’t he?” Allura breathed. “He’s…”

“Human,” Hunk finished. “Allura, you don’t really think he’ll turn into seafoam, do you?”

“I don’t know, but I’m inclined to believe Lotor, much as I dislike it,” Allura huffed.

Lance’s eyes found their frowning faces, and his smile slid off his face in an instant. He tilted his head slightly, starting to move his lips in a question but stopping as soon as he remembered why that wouldn’t work. His question, however, was plain enough.

“We’re just worried, Lance,” Allura told him.

Beside her, Hunk nodded. “Yeah, I mean, if you don’t get this guy to fall in love with you and kiss you, you’ll turn to seafoam—that is, you’ll die.”

Lance waved a hand at them, gesturing at his face and smiling in what he probably thought was a suave manner. It wasn’t particularly reassuring.

“Lance, do you even know where this guy lives?” Hunk pressed.

Lance froze for an instant, but quickly recovered, waving his hands around airily and mouthing the words he was trying to say again. Suffice to say, he did not seem nearly as concerned as the other two. Allura scowled.

“This is ridiculous!” She exclaimed. “You should never have made a deal with a sea witch in the first place! I’m going to find a way to reverse this immediately, and so help me—don’t shake your head at me! This is your life we’re talking about, how can you be so careless about it?!”

Lance gaped like a fish out of water. He shook his head again, his blue eyes going wide and seeming to plead with Allura. Allura recoiled at the pang of guilt that zipped through her, from her heart all the way down to her delicate tail fins. Certainly with her tenacity she could probably find a way to reverse this. Her kingdom had the best kept records of all underwater magic, after all. But then, Lance’s eyes seemed to say, what good would that do? Lance would return to a life he was discontent with, doomed to wonder about a chance he hadn’t been allowed to take. Maybe Allura thought it foolhardy and far too risky, but it meant something far more to Lance, something that Allura might never comprehend, especially if she took this away from him.

Allura sighed. “Alright, alright, I’ll—I won’t undo this immediately. But Lance, please understand, you’re one of my dearest friends, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you forever. Please, at least let me look for a way… just in case? I won’t tell anyone what’s happening this time, I promise. My honor as a princess.”

Lance looked away for a moment, deliberating carefully. When he finally looked back at her, it was with a small but resolute nod. Allura sighed again, this time smiling.

“Thank you, Lance. I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible. Hunk, you’ll stay with him, won’t you?”

Hunk blinked. “How is that even a question? Of course I’ll stay with him!”

“And so will I!” piped a new voice.

The three of them whipped around in alarm, afraid they’d been caught by some human or other. Thankfully it wasn’t just any old human; it was Pidge! Perched on a rock and peering very curiously at Lance, they looked only marginally surprised, but also mildly mischievous. They seemed proud to have snuck up on the merfolk.

“So, you managed to get yourself a pair of legs,” they started slowly.

Lance nodded eagerly, mouth moving leagues ahead of the fastest human ship before he could stop himself. Pidge blinked.

“And… you can’t talk? Wow, two upgrades in one day, I’m impressed.” At Lance’s resulting scowl, they laughed and continued, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But seriously, what on earth is going on?”

Much to everyone’s surprise, it was Allura who explained the situation to Pidge. “He traded his voice to a sea witch for legs. He has to get a human, that human he rescued the other day, to fall in love with him—“

“And kiss him!” Hunk added.

“And kiss him,” Allura amended with a nod. “In three days. Otherwise he’ll turn to seafoam.”

Pidge sputtered. “What?! Lance, what were you thinking?!”

Lance made as though to blow bubbles, only to end up huffing indignantly. He crossed his arms and turned away from Pidge.

“I think he’s done having this conversation,” Hunk translated.

“Fine, fine,” Pidge said. “You guys are lucky I know Keith.”

That got Lance’s attention again. He whirled around with a huge grin on his face. His wide eyes were pleading once more, and Pidge pointedly looked away from him. There was something about his ocean eyes that was decidedly still merm-ish, something that was easy to pass over when he still had a tail, but that seemed startling in the face of a human.

“You don’t have to ask! Of course I’m going to help you!” they insisted. “First thing’s first: you need clothes.”

~*~

To any casual onlooker, the younger prince looked completely recovered from the disastrous shipwreck that had almost claimed his life. How resilient, they praised, how strong. Not that he heard any of these praises of course. No, Keith was deaf to a great many things in the days following the incident, as was apparent to those particular few that were close to him. His thoughts were far more pleasantly occupied.

A gentle touch to his cheek.

Words of longing, spoken so softly Keith could hardly hear them over the waves.

And when he had opened his eyes to the harsh morning light, the bluest eyes he had ever seen were looking at him, sparkling as the ocean might on a clear, sunny day.

Suffice to say, Keith had been dazzled and enraptured, only for those eyes to disappear a moment after he’d seen them. Part of him wanted to believe it had been a dream, if only so he could move on with his life. The rest of his mind, however, was all too convinced it had been real. Someone had rescued him that night. Far from the shore, where the ship had gone down in a violent conflagration, someone had plucked him from the waters and brought him to safety.

At the very least, Keith would’ve liked to have thanked them.

Yet no one had seen anyone on the beach where Keith supposedly washed up. Occasionally Keith caught a knowing gleam in Pidge’s eye, but as soon as he blinked it was gone. Shiro insisted that Keith’s head was just a little addled, what with the explosion and then however much salt water Keith might’ve accidentally swallowed.

So for all that Keith had his suspicions, he kept quiet in the days following the incident. If he took more walks along the shore at odd hours of the day, no one made any mention of it. One gray morning, just as the sky was touched with the barest hint of light, Keith thought he heard something behind the rocks. It was a small thing, almost like a sob, but when he called out, no one answered. He turned to his dog, his constant companion in these days, and sighed.

“I must be losing my mind, Kosmo,” he said.

The dog tilted his head, as if to ask, “Are you so certain?”

Keith was not at all certain, but he was definitely not accomplishing anything by moping about on the beach. He hadn’t gotten but an hour or two of sleep. Some decent sleep might do him some good. He trudged back to the castle, almost having to drag Kosmo back at first--the silly dog was insistent on tramping about in the shallow waters they’d been walking by, for whatever reason.

Keith managed only a few solid hours of sleep before someone was knocking at his door. Something about Shiro wanting him present for the citizen petitions of the day. Kosmo was all energy with springs in his paws, as though he hadn’t stayed up the entire night with Keith. His bright energy got Keith to smile, so Keith couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed in the slightest.

His first thought had been to head down to the kitchens to grab a quick bite to eat. Petitioning hours usually ran long, and it was one of the dullest duties Keith had to attend to as a prince. A few snacks would go a long way in helping him make it through the day. Keith was quite set in his path, stomach already growling, until he spotted Pidge acting quite suspiciously.

Pidge was the youngest child of one of the court diplomats (their other parent also worked for the royal family, as an herbalist), only a couple years younger than Keith himself. The two of them got on quite well, but Keith always got the impression that Pidge knew things he didn’t. More than once he wondered if they were in training to become a royal spy or something of the sort. They would often disappear for hours at a time, returning with a knowing look and sometimes flipping some incredibly old, incredibly rare coin or other. Not once had Keith ever been able to wrangle an explanation regarding where the coins had come from out of them (at least, not an explanation he believed).

As such, when Keith spotted Pidge ducked behind a corner clutching a bundle of cloth, glancing this way and that to make sure they weren’t being followed, Keith decided there and then to follow them. Perhaps part of him hoped that whatever grand secret they were keeping had something to do with his mysterious rescuer. Either way, his curiosity had reached its limit. Whatever Pidge was hiding, Keith was going to find it.

Unfortunately, Pidge apparently had much practice in the art of not being followed. Keith’s status as a prince didn’t help him much either. Once or twice people stopped to stare at his odd behavior, careful as he was being to not be noticed by Pidge. Kosmo behaved himself all the while, staying just behind Keith as they stole after Pidge on their mystery errand. Keith thought he’d have an easier time of it once they left the castle, but on the contrary, he lost Pidge almost immediately. He’d followed them down the path towards the shore when they’d simply vanished.

Keith huffed. “They must be able to turn invisible or something.”

He turned to make his way back to the castle, calling for Kosmo to follow. His dear companion, however, had other ideas. Kosmo’s head perked up just as Keith made to return, his entire body freezing as he sniffed something in the air. Keith knew what was going to happen an instant before it did.

“Don’t--”

Kosmo did anyways. He took off like a bullet down the beach, leaving Keith to shout and straggle far behind him. Every few seconds he would pause to look back at Keith, as though considering whether he should listen to him or not. Every time he decided against it, and just before Keith could catch up to him, he’d sprint away again, tail wagging in huge circles all the while.

“Well,” Keith wheezed as he tramped through the sand. “At least one of us is having fun.”

~*~

Pidge returned red-faced and panting. Allura had already left, leaving Hunk to watch as Lance attempted to take his first shaky steps on his human legs. It hadn’t been going well.

“Almost got caught,” they gasped. “By Keith of all people.”

Lance perked up at that, eyebrows shooting up as he gestured with his hands towards himself repeatedly. Pidge took a moment to catch their breath.

“Much as I know you’d like to see Keith as soon as possible, and as much as I’d like to get you two together sooner rather than later, I don’t think you’d make a very good impression like this,” they explained.

Lance repeated the motion he’d been making with more energy.

“Yeah, I’m a little confused too,” Hunk said. “What exactly is the reason you couldn’t bring Keith sooner rather than later?”

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Well, humans cover their entire bodies with clothes, first of all. It’s considered pretty rude and shocking to run around naked. Not to mention, Lance can’t even walk right yet. You want to make a good first impression, don’t you?”

Lance exhaled sharply through his nose, and then nodded.

“Good, then let’s get you dressed.”

A few moments later found Lance dressed in plain pants and a loose, flowing shirt. He marvelled at the sensation of cloth against his skin, pulling at the clothing here and there at places where it sat a little less comfortably. He was seated on a rock, not yet able to stand on his own two legs.

“Alright,” Pidge sighed. “Now that that ordeal is out of the way, let’s get you walking--”

They stopped abruptly. A dog could be heard barking not too far off, accompanied by the shouting of a very familiar voice. Pidge looked down the beach, then back at Lance. His eyes were wide and curious, and just a tad concerned. Pidge looked for Hunk, but he had already hidden himself. Panicking, Pidge ended up diving behind another rock, just as Kosmo barrelled around the bend and made a beeline for Lance.

Lance had no idea how to respond. The last time he’d met Kosmo, he’d been nowhere near this rambunctious. It was a little overwhelming, if Lance was honest. It didn’t help that Pidge had decided to hide themself, in Lance’s greatest moment of need. Kosmo jumped excitedly at Lance. Lance’s hands fluttered nervously, trying to pet the beast, but Kosmo just wouldn’t stay still! The silly creature clawed at the rock, desperately trying to get up to greet Lance as he had the first time they’d met.

“Kosmo! Come here, you--!”

Lance felt his breath leave him as Keith rounded the bend and froze, eyes locking with Lance’s. Everything around them screeched to a halt. The waves seemed to hold themselves just before crashing against the shore, suspended in the moment as the two of them were. Even the gulls overhead did not dare cry out.

“Oh,” Keith gasped quietly, setting time to it’s natural course once more.

Kosmo bounded back to Keith, shaking him from his silent reverie. He’d been staring, he realized.

“Uh, sorry about my dog, he’s a little excitable,” Keith apologized to the young man who had yet to say a word.

He thought perhaps he was also a little excitable, but something seemed familiar about the man seated on the rock, especially as Keith stepped towards him. Especially familiar was a pair of startling blue eyes that seemed to draw him in like a riptide. Keith was utterly helpless against them. The young man leaned forward, grinning all the while.

“Do I… know you?”

The young man nodded eagerly, and Keith’s heart leapt into his throat. He instinctively took the man’s hands in his, hardly able to speak for excitement.

“I—it’s you! You’re the one! The one that saved me! I knew you were real! What’s your name?!”

The young man moved his mouth, but no sound came out. Both Keith and him deflated considerably. A whisper of words carried over the waves and brushed past Keith’s cheek, the barest memory of a touch reminding him of what he’d seen. Keith looked away, and let the young man’s hands slip out of his.

“Oh,” he sighed. “Then, you can’t be who I’m looking for.”

The young man huffed, and Keith looked back up at him. His eyebrows were knit together in consternation, arms crossed in such a way that made it look like he was hugging himself. It made him look small and vulnerable, and Keith noticed other things—the mess of wind-whipped curls atop his head, the bags underneath his eyes, and the redness of his lower lip (as though he’d been biting at it).

Keith was about to ask the young man if he was alright, when his eyes snapped up again like a crack of lightning, and he began gesturing wildly with his hands, first to his legs in a wiggling motion, then tapping against his throat and then waving his hand away. Keith was completely lost. The man exhaled sharply and began moving his hands with more energy, pointing agitatedly towards the ocean, such that he nearly fell off the rock he was seated on.

Instead of falling to the ground, however, the man fell right into Keith’s waiting arms. Keith had held them out without thinking, and held tighter when the young man struggled to stand on his own. Their eyes met again, and once more Keith was taken by how the entirety of the ocean seemed to be encapsulated within this stranger’s eyes. He blinked out of his stupor before he was staring for too long.

“You’ve--you must’ve really been through something,” Keith commented. The young man nodded slowly, not once breaking eye contact. “Why don’t you come back with me? We can help you out, get you back on your feet again?”

Here the stranger averted his eyes with a coy smile, and nodded again. Keith held tight around the stranger’s waist, while the young man put an arm across Keith’s shoulders. This would definitely raise some eyebrows, Keith considered, but what else was he supposed to do? No, this mysterious (beautiful) stranger needed help, and Keith was more than able (and willing).

In the meantime, whatever Pidge had been up to had been completely driven from Keith’s mind.

From behind the rocks, Pidge and Hunk watched the fated first meeting go surprisingly well, considering. They exchanged gleeful looks with Lance when he looked back at them with an elated smile.

“Why’d you hide from Keith? I thought you knew him?” Hunk asked as soon as Lance and Keith were out of earshot.

“I panicked,” they said honestly.

Hunk hummed. “That’s fair. And anyways, I suppose if you ended up introducing them, you might have to do more explaining than you want.”

“No kidding,” Pidge replied with a nod. “Keith’s been onto me off and on for years. Always thinks I’m up to something. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m in training to be a court spy or something. Not that that’d be a bad idea.”

“Speaking of bad ideas, do you think it’d be a bad idea to tell Keith about all this anyways?”

Pidge blinked. “What, about mermaids and everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Pidge, if Lance doesn’t get Keith to fall in love with him in three days, he turns to seafoam! He’d essentially… you know…” Hunk trailed off, a heavy silence settling over him.

“Much as I want to,” Pidge began slowly. “And as much as I think that Keith would be willing to help, I don’t think it’d do us any good. He has to fall in love with Lance, right? Something like that… I don’t know if it can be forced, no matter how much you want it.”

Hunk said nothing in reply, and Pidge felt their heart twist painfully. Lance was a good friend of theirs, but Hunk had known Lance far longer and far more intimately than Pidge. To only be able to stand by (or float by, part of Pidge’s mind considered), while his dearest friend put his life on the line for love… Pidge didn’t even want to imagine. Pidge stood from where they’d been hiding, their expression set.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t help them along though.”

~*~

To say that Allura’s return was met calmly and with a reasonable level of poise would be a bold-faced lie.

In fact, she was swarmed by Lance’s entire family before she’d even crossed the threshold of their palace. They were beside themselves with worry, and his niece and nephew in particular were in hysterics. Most concerning of all was Veronica, who looked as though she hadn’t slept for days, though it had hardly been one since Lance left. Once the delegation that had accompanied Allura was assured of her safety, she was ushered into a private sitting room with Veronica.

There was silence between them at first. Veronica slumped into a seat, exhaustion weighing as heavy as the ocean at the bottom of a trench on her. Her position was not so different from Allura’s, being first in line to rule their respective kingdoms, but unlike Allura, she had already taken over many of the responsibilities that would be expected of her as queen. Add that to ensuring that her siblings attended to their duties as well, and her position was most assuredly more stressful than Allura’s.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”

Allura was taken aback by the question, but quickly moved to reassure the other princess. “No! Well, perhaps you were a bit harsh. After all, as far as I understand it took him years to build his collection, and to simply get rid of it all--”

Allura stopped when a perplexed expression crossed Veronica’s face.

“What are you talking about?”

“His collection. In the cove. It’s all gone,” Allura said. Veronica still looked confused. “It wasn’t you?”

“No, of course not! Collecting human items, that’s harmless, although he does have a tendency to let it get in the way of his duties as a prince… I would never do that to him. He’s my brother.”

“I see,” Allura mused, her mind alight with suspicion.

A beat of silence rippled through the waters.

“Do you know where Lance is?”

Allura nearly choked on some bubbles. “No, I--Hunk and I, when we went looking for him, we thought we might find him faster if we split up. I searched as long as I could, and then I decided to check back here to see if he’d returned on his own.”

Veronica hummed, slouching back into her seat and looking utterly defeated. Allura did not envy the pressure Veronica was under, and wished more than anything that she could assure her that her baby brother was well and alive. But she’d promised Lance.

“As it is,” Allura continued with a little more confidence. “A pressing matter has arisen that I must attend to as soon as possible. I hate to leave you during such a time--”

“Please, don’t worry yourself over it,” Veronica insisted. “We’ll send word as soon as we find Lance and Hunk.”

She rose from her seat and embraced Allura tightly. Allura could practically feel the stress in her tense form. She didn’t want to leave Veronica and the rest of Lance’s family like this. But then, would they be any less worried if they knew the truth.

“Is there anything I can do before I leave?” Allura asked.

Veronica considered the offer with tired eyes. Though they were the same color as Lance’s, they were quite different. Even when she wasn’t under the weight of the entire ocean, Veronica’s eyes had a sort of sharpness to them that was leagues away from the rolling liveliness of Lance’s. Now she seemed dull at the edges.

“Do you know the humans Lance knows?” she asked suddenly.

Allura recoiled, but answered honestly, “No!--that is, not as well as him.”

A slight pause.

“But I think Lance may be right,” she added.

Veronica blinked, clearly surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I think… there may be humans who are not as dangerous as we might think. Humans that can be negotiated with,” Allura elaborated.

“And the poachers of the past? You think they don’t exist anymore?”

Allura shook her head. “It may be that humans are not so different from merfolk. After all, there are plenty of creatures under the sea, merfolk included, that would do us harm without even the slightest provocation.”

Veronica did not reply. Instead she straightened, trying to once more look the part of crown princess of her kingdom. Allura knew firsthand just how exhausting that could be.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. You said you had an urgent matter to attend to?” Veronica reminded her.

“Yes, thank you,” Allura replied with an appropriate bow of her head. Then, just before she opened the door, “I wish you the best of luck. I hope everything is resolved soon.”

“You hope, or you know?”

Allura froze, trying to keep herself composed. She met Veronica’s eyes, sharp and decisive once more, with as much confidence as she could muster.

“There are a great many things I do not know,” she said. “But that I intend to find out.”

Veronica eyed Allura suspiciously. Allura remained resolute.

Finally, Veronica sighed. “Very well. Have a safe journey home.”

With that, Allura swiftly took her leave. The longer she stayed around Veronica the more likely it was that Veronica would wrangle the truth out of her. That would not do at all. As it was, Allura thought, she would likely find out in three day’s time anyways.

Three days, she contemplated on her way home. To Lance’s family, it would no doubt feel like an eternity. To Allura, it was not nearly enough time at all.

~*~

“So,” Pidge mused, sliding beside Keith as he stood gazing out a window. “I hear you made a new friend.”

Keith snorted. “You could say that.”

“I also hear he’s incredibly attractive.”

Keith broke from his brooding to give Pidge a puzzled look. “Since when do you care about whether people are attractive or not?”

“I don’t, that’s just what I heard,” Pidge said with a shrug. “Word travels fast, and there’s nothing servants love more than some juicy gossip.”

“And there’s nothing you love more than talking to people,” Keith drawled.

“No, but people can be really careless. They just want to talk, nevermind who’s listening. What no one seems to agree on is why you decided to bring him home.”

Keith groaned, bumping his head lightly against the glass. “I already told Shiro, I just felt like he needed some help, and I was right there, so I figured, why not?”

“Fair enough.”

Keith scowled. “That’s what Shiro said, and I know neither of you mean it.”

Pidge shrugged again. “It’s not everyday a prince brings home a beautiful man, but the last time that happened there was a marriage not long after.”

“That--that’s different! Adam was a visiting noble from the more inland part of the kingdom and--!”

“And then I never left,” a third voice piped.

Keith didn’t even bother to look. “You here to interrogate me too?”

“No, as much as I’d like to. Takashi won’t shut up about it,” Adam said, sidling up to Keith’s other side. “Dinner is going to be ready soon. Will you be joining us, Pidge?”

“If I’m invited.”

Keith prayed that Adam said no. He was already surrounded as it was, he didn’t need Shiro added to the mix. And they already had one guest as it was, and they generally liked to keep dinner a private affair.

“Of course, you’re always invited, Pidge.”

Keith groaned. Usually he could count on Adam being on his side for a lot of things, but for all that he said he wasn’t interested, Adam was clearly burning with just as much curiosity as everyone in the palace. As they all shuffled off to dinner, Keith idly wondered how long it would be before the entire kingdom was circulating rumors of an engagement.

Shiro was already seated when they entered the private dining room, delighted to see that Pidge would be joining them. Adam took his place beside his husband, and they exchanged a look that to Keith seemed to say that Adam had been as successful as Shiro in wrangling any interesting information from him. Not that there was anything “interesting” to be found out. Sure, maybe he’d thought that at first this perfect stranger had been the one that had rescued Keith not so long ago, and maybe Keith was still thinking longingly of a lingering touch against his cheek, but that had nothing to do with--

There was a shuffling at the door. It was ajar, and just outside a servant stood, speaking in an encouraging tone to someone just out of Keith’s sight. Then, a tentative figure stepped through the door.

Keith had to remind himself to breathe. It was the stranger, freshly washed and dressed in one of Keith’s own deep red coats (he had told the servants to fit the stranger with some of his own clothes, and hadn’t thought anything of it at the time). The vivid scarlet that Keith favored was a striking contrast to the young man’s eyes, and made them seem more prominent than ever. For a second time, Keith reminded himself to breathe, and to not stare.

“Uh, you look--you look great,” Keith stammered, for all that he’d been trying his hardest to remain composed.

The young man smiled bashfully, and Keith led him to the table, pointedly not looking at anyone else as he did. He didn’t need to look to know that Shiro and Pidge were struggling to contain their grinning, and Adam, far more composed than either of them, was simply staring intently.

Pidge caught Lance’s eye and offered him a subtle wave. Lance smiled at them, feeling as though he were floating amidst the most amiable current. His steps were far more steady now than they had been only a few hours ago, and most importantly, he was here, with Keith! Lance was certain that if he still had his voice he’d be giggling out of sheer elation.

“So, I know you can’t speak, but is there any way you can give us your name?” Shiro asked politely of Lance.

Lance considered for a moment, glancing at Pidge in what he hoped was a subtle fashion. They made no indication that they would say anything. It seemed he was on his own for this one. He mimed thrusting forward with a lance, hoping that humans had them too, but no one at the table seemed to get it (“Pike?” Keith guessed. Lance shook his head vigorously). Pidge remained conspicuously silent all the while.

“I’m… sure we’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Shiro assured him. “It just feels rude to not be able to refer to you by name.”

“Speaking of which, we haven’t told him ours,” Adam pointed out.

“Oh!” Shiro gasped. “Of course.”

Introductions were made quickly. Lance nodded at every name, even Pidge’s, in what he hoped was a polite manner. It irked him that he couldn’t return the pleasantries; indeed, if he still had his voice he might’ve laughed at how important it all suddenly seemed to him, to be courteous and princely. He wondered distantly if Veronica would laugh too.

Idle chatter descended upon their small party as they waited for food. Lance, with no voice, was left to take in every little thing that surrounded him. Everything was so very different from his underwater home. On the table there was already an assortment of items he only half recognized.

Directly in front of him was a fork, which he knew, and in the middle of the table, a very curious item that he only half-recognized. He had a feeling that Pidge wasn’t going to explain what it was in front of everyone else, but that was alright. With three prongs to the elegantly crafted item, with sockets in each prong, Lance was certain he could guess what it was for. He picked up the fork in front of him first, and with unshakeable certainty placed it right in the center socket. That’s what he did with the one he’d had in his collection, anyways.

He was very quickly aware of the silence that had descended upon the room. Everyone was staring at him. His face was burning as he quickly removed the fork from where he’d put it, placing it carefully where it had been. Lance was just wishing he could disappear until a sudden peal of laughter shattered the silence. Across from him, Keith was hiding his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

From the end of the table, Shiro grinned. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen him laugh this hard since… when was the last time he laughed this hard?”

“Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you,” Keith assured Lance. “I just--that was--”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, but that was perfectly fine with Lance. He beamed, proud to be the reason that Keith was laughing so freely for the first time in too long. In the meantime, he hoped that Pidge would tell remind him what the item was for later. Funny as it was in retrospect, Lance didn’t want to spend the next few days making a fool of himself. He had more important things to do, after all.

“I don’t think he’s from around here,” Pidge mentioned lightly as dinner was brought out to them. “Hey, Keith, maybe you should show him around town tomorrow.”

“What--”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Adam said before Keith could protest.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been anywhere but around the castle and on the beach,” Shiro agreed. At Keith’s scathing look, he added, “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Keith ignored his brother and turned to Lance. “What do you say? Would you like a tour of the capital town tomorrow? It’s not anything spectacular, but it’s home.”

Lance nodded eagerly, certain that what Keith referred to as home would be nothing short of marvelous. Keith smiled, a sight that made Lance feel warmer than he thought possible. If only, he thought, the deal had been for Lance to fall in love with Keith, then his humanity would be assured.

As it was, Lance insisted to himself that there was no point in lingering on “what-ifs”. Not when there was some very intriguing human cuisine before him, anyways.

~*~

Pidge didn’t linger after dinner. They weren’t sure how much more of Lance and Keith mooning over each other they could handle, and anyways, they had important information to relay. As soon as they were able (and making sure that Keith was lost in Lance’s eyes beforehand), they slipped out with only a quiet word of thanks to the elder prince and his husband.

With the sun going down, activity around the castle was winding down amongst the upper classes. For the servants the work was as steady as always. Stoking up fires to keep away the chill of the coming night, clearing away dinner messes or bringing fresh dinners for those who kept later hours, and cleaning away the mess of the day. None of them had a thought to spare for Pidge as they snuck into the kitchens for a sack of food and then made their way out of the castle.

They took a smaller, side exit that led to a quaint garden that had a marvelous view of the ocean. They made a mental note to suggest to Keith that he ought to take Lance here. In the meantime, they pushed through the meticulously trimmed hedges to find a small trail that they would’ve missed if they hadn’t been looking for it. It led down the steep hill that the castle was settled on, treacherous and overgrown and dangerous to take in low light. Pidge followed it resolutely as it turned sharply to parallel the shore. It led them to a shady cove where the castle was hanging over the shore, where the ocean had eroded the land over time.

They glanced around, ever suspicious.

“Hunk?”

A moment or two passed. The only sound was the constant roll of ocean waves. Pidge sat themself on a rock, and waited. A light breeze swept through the secret cove that had long been Pidge’s personal hideaway. They breathed it in gratefully, tasting the salt and revelling in the cool air against their skin.

“Pidge!” a harsh whisper called.

They opened their eyes. Hunk’s face was just barely peeking out of the water, but his golden tail could be seen behind him. The water was too shallow for him to be completely submerged.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

Pidge grinned. “They were all over the idea. Keith and Lance will be spending the majority of the day together tomorrow. As it is, Keith is already smitten. He’s already half in love with Lance and he doesn’t even know it.”

“Good,” Hunk breathed. “I was worried.”

“So was I, but looking at them, I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Pidge assured him.

“Oh no, I’ll be worrying every single moment until they kiss,” Hunk insisted, his tail jerking sharply behind him. “Part of me is wondering if Lotor lied to Lance. Or if maybe Lance can only stay human as long as Keith loves him. What if they kiss but it’s not true love? What if it’s just passionate infatuation? What if--”

“Hunk,” Pidge cut in gently. “We could go around in circles all night with what-if’s. Things are going well so far.”

“I know,” Hunk whined, blowing bubbles in the water.

“In the meantime, let’s think of a plan for the third day,” Pidge suggested, brandishing the sack of food they’d brought with them.

~*~

The sun had long since set on Allura’s home, but she was still awake and elbow deep in the archives of her home castle, poring over tablet after tablet. Reading the tablets was delicate and tedious work. That which was merfolk of the past had wanted to record was carved into sturdy stone that was known to withstand the constant whims of the water for many ages. The tablets Allura held, however, were ancient. She made a note to have some of the archivists re-carve the tablets.

For now, however, she felt with careful fingers along the tablets that were supposedly records of lost magic. She’d been through several such tablets already. None of them had anything she was looking for, only tales of mermaids who had sung humans to their death in retaliation for their violent poaching practices. Fascinating as that had been, it was not what Allura needed.

“Our most revered Princess Elanil is thus revealed to have been blessed with the silvertongue gift,” the current tablet read. It wasn’t the first time she’d come across a mention of one of her own ancestors having the silvertongue gift.

Allura continued reading. “But even before she could use it, it was taken from her by the wretched hands of Man. Having taken to the surface in search of vengeance for her most beloved People, our Princess sought to drown Men with her own hands. Those very same Men caught her with their hands before she had uttered a word and cut out her tongue, silencing our dear Princess forevermore.”

Allura recoiled, and almost set the tablet down. Her hands, however, unconsciously moved down to the next line.

“Robbed though she was, our Princess was determined to seek her vengeance tenfold. Her eyes gleamed with the force of a storm at sea and her strength was double that. With her sheer tenacity alone, Princess Elanil drowned a count of Men that shall be directly recorded…”

Allura set the tablet aside and held her head in her hands. She didn’t even know why she was bothering with anything about the silvertongue, unless it was to discern what Lotor could possibly want with it. As it was, mentions of the silvertongue were vague at best, and grossly exaggerated at worst. One account had it that the silvertongue the truest expression of the ocean itself, and those who possessed such a gift could do more than sway people to their will. Poetic as such accounts were, they were utterly useless to Allura.

She was just reaching for the next tablet when, through the silence, a voice spoke, “Allura?”

She whipped her head up, and saw in the dim light of a single bioluminescent lamp her father, King Alfor. His forehead was creased with worry.

“I had heard you had returned, but I wasn’t sure I should believe it,” he commented airily. “After all, why should my dear daughter return without even saying hello to her parents?”

Allura shrugged sheepishly, and then swam over to hug her father tightly, a soft apology on her lips. Alfor smiled kindly as he returned the embrace.

“Your mother is worried. We heard what’s happening with our neighbors,” he said. “She thinks you distraught.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you or mother,” she replied.

“Tell me then, what are you up to?” he asked abruptly. He glanced at the tablets scattered on the table Allura had been sitting at. “The silvertongue gift?”

Allura sought to keep her posture natural. Not too composed, but not too relaxed. “Well, you see—it’s just that—the reason Lance was so upset as to leave in the first place was because of the pressure put on him as one in possession of the silvertongue gift. I thought that if I could help him understand it, he might be able to control it, and then perhaps he might not feel so overburdened, is all.”

Alfor raised an eyebrow. Allura knew he suspected there was something more than what she was saying, and she knew he knew. Thankfully, he seemed to sense that she couldn’t and wouldn’t come forward with the truth so easily. All the same, Allura wasn’t sure if she was grateful for the fact that he didn’t press for the truth or not.

“And what have you found?” he asked instead.

Allura huffed. “Nothing of use. It’s all tales of those who supposedly possessed the gift themselves, never anything about what exactly it is or how one uses it.”

“Really?” Alfor inquired. “I thought for sure there was something about the nature of the silvertongue gift in here somewhere…”

He moved to looked through the tablets Allura had collected while Allura stared, wide-eyed. “You’ve read about the silvertongue?”

“My dear, I must’ve read everything in this library at least twice. Surely your mother has told you before.”

Allura cracked a wry smile as several memories resurfaced. “She may have mentioned it once or twice.”

Alfor chuckled as he continued his search for that particular tablet. He found it after only a moment, holding it up as he read it aloud.

“To call it the silvertongue is something of a misnomer,” he read. “For it is not in the tongue that the gift resides, though that seems to be where it makes itself most apparent. Indeed the silvertongue gift is believed by a few to be a physical manifestation of the ocean itself—“

“I read that already,” Allura interrupted with a sigh. “But that’s the only source that claims that. It’s a romantic view of the magic, certainly, but without evidence—“

“Who’s to say there isn’t evidence?” Alfor asked with a knowing smile.

Allura frowned. “I’ve read all of these tablets, this claim is just a story!”

“If you insist,” Alfor relented, setting down the tablet. “But remember my dear, while many stories regarding magic have their roots in misunderstanding, a special few are rooted in truth. It’s just a matter of finding where that truth is.”

With that he pressed a kiss to her forehead, reminding her not to stay up too late. She assured him that she wouldn’t, although they both seemed to know that was a lie. Allura simply didn’t have time. Realistically she knew she couldn’t stay awake for three days straight, but neither could she waste too much time on sleep. She had to find an answer, and she was certain by then that it didn’t lie in any stories about the silvertongue. But if it wasn’t in stories about magic, then where could it possibly be?

Once her father left, Allura turned back to the tablets on the table, and spied one she didn’t remember taking down from the shelves. Curious she took it in her hands.

“Magic and Alchemy,” it read. “Differences, similarities, and why they both became likened to myth.”

~*~

The dawn of the second day broke bright and beautiful over the ocean. The stranger was already awake when Keith peeked in the room he was staying in, on the balcony admiring the sunrise. It was different, seeing this handsome stranger in such a peaceful moment. Normally he was brimming with energy and unable to sit still. Keith found it charming, but this, too, was endearing. From just the right angle, Keith could see the stranger’s eyes, settled like the sea before them.

“Good morning,” Keith finally greeted, startling the stranger from his reverie. Keith chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

The young man waved a hand at him, and then gestured for Keith to join him. Keith did so gladly.

“Sleep well?” Keith asked. The stranger nodded, even as he yawned. “Good. We’ve got a bit of a day ahead of us, although I will have to be present for petitioning for at least an hour this morning, since I wasn’t present yesterday. I hope that’s alright.”

The man nodded once more, and then tapped his chest as he tilted his head. Keith raised his eyebrows.

“You want to sit through petitions?”

Another fervent nod.

“Are you sure? They’re pretty boring, I can hardly stand them myself…”

The stranger was resolute. He wanted to join Keith. Keith, for his part, had no complaints, he just didn’t want his surprise guest to be bored to death before they went out to the town. As eager as he seemed about everything in the castle, Keith was looking forward to seeing how he reacted to seeing the charming town just beyond the castle gates. In the meantime, however--

“Any other hints towards your name?” Keith inquired.

The stranger once more made that thrusting motion he’d made the night before, calling to mind a sort of polearm weapon. Keith had already tried Pike, which had apparently been wrong, but he was certain that “spear” or “halberd” couldn’t be his name. If there were any other possibilities, they escaped Keith. The stranger huffed. Apparently that was the only hint he had, and Keith just wasn’t getting it.

“Sorry, I’m sure I’ll get it eventually,” Keith apologized. “Maybe there’s something I can call you in the meantime?”

The stranger shrugged, but did not seem wholly opposed to the idea. Keith hummed and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“How about… Blue?” he suggested, reaching out the brush away an errant strand of hair from the stranger’s face. “For your eyes.”

Said eyes widened, then looked away. The stranger smiled, nodding demurely.

“Alright then, Blue,” Keith said. “Let’s get going. Those petitioners aren’t going to listen to themselves, after all.”

Half an hour later, Keith walked into the throne room, Blue not far behind. Tittering nobles peered curiously at the handsome stranger, gossiping behind their delicate silk fans so rapidly that it sound like the ocean wind had made it inside. Keith paid them no heed, and hoped that Blue did the same. A quick glance told him there was no need to worry. Dressed in a well-fitted, deep blue vest over a flowing white shirt, Blue held himself like a prince, looking forward as though the nobles that lined the walls simply didn’t exist.

Thusly reassured, Keith swiftly took his seat beside Shiro. Blue, without even a single questioning glance, stood to the side. He stood tall and kept his hands clasped behind his back. Were his appearance not so sudden, no one would’ve questioned that he belonged. It was immensely intriguing to Keith. Just who was Blue?

Keith had no time to ponder the question as the first petitioner stepped forward. By his looks, he seemed to be a fisherman, his aged face wind-weathered and sun-kissed. He gripped his hat nervously as he paid the proper respects to the royals. Behind him were several more fishermen, looking just as anxious as the one that spoke on their behalf.

“Your Highnesses,” he began in a tremulous voice. “I’ve always been a reasonable man, a man of logic. Never set much store by superstition, anyone’ll tell you.”

Behind him, several of his companions nodded.

“But?” Shiro prompted.

The fisherman seemed reluctant to continue. “But… As of late, the waters, thereabouts on the eastern side of the peninsula, they’ve become dangerous for us.”

Shiro leaned forward. “How so?”

“That’s just the thing your Highness, is that no one can say for certain,” the fisherman explained. “Our folks go out for the day, and their boats come back, but they don’t. And if they do, it’s by the grace of the currents, because they’ll come back dead.”

A hush fell over the room, followed by the insistent rush of chatter as the nobles appraised this dramatic turn of events. The sound was not unlike the crash of waves just outside. Keith, too, found his interest piqued. His first thought was that raiding parties might be coming over from the neighboring kingdom, and then he considered the possibility of pirates. But the fisherman had said that the ships had returned.

“Of the ships that returned,” Keith began. “How many were stripped of their valuables?”

“None, your Highness,” the fisherman answered.

“So then likely not pirates or raiding parties,” Shiro muttered so that only Keith could hear.

“If I may, your Highnesses,” the fisherman pressed at the insistence of his companions. “Us folk think we may know that what’s killing us, though I fear you’ll think me daft for it.”

“I don’t like to discount any possibility, no matter how slim. Let’s hear it,” Shiro commanded.

The fisherman gripped his hat like a lifeline. “Merfolk, your Highness.”

Several nobles laughed loudly. Keith glanced at Blue, thinking he might laugh too. On the contrary, Blue’s face was suddenly ashen, his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together. Keith only had time enough to consider that perhaps Blue was the superstitious type before Shiro spoke again.

“What makes you so certain?” he asked of the fisherman.

“The bodies we’ve found, none of them was stabbed or shot or anything of the sort. They were drowned, your Highness, grabbed by the throat and dragged down ‘til the breath left their lungs for good. The bruises round their necks are proof enough. And ain’t nary a soul in our parts that can’t swim, we teach our children and they teach theirs--and what with how many times it’s happened, these can’t be no accidents, least as far as we can tell,” the fisherman explained.

Still some nobles deigned to laugh at the fisherman’s plight. Keith scowled at those whose eyes he caught. As the younger prince, it was not generally up to him to answer the petitions, so instead he took on the responsibility of keeping peace in the court. It was a job he was good at; the nobles silenced themselves promptly. Certainly he didn’t believe the idea that merfolk had come to drown humans as they did in stories, but it was clear that something was going on.

From his expression, Keith could tell that Shiro thought much the same.

“We’ll send some ships from our navy to patrol your waters,” Shiro decided. “In the meantime, you and your people should arm yourselves in whatever way you can. Make certain that anyone who goes out onto open waters has the means to defend themselves.”

The fisherman looked reluctant, but bowed all the same. So too did his companions.

“Thank you, your Highness.”

And just like that, they were escorted from the room, and petitioning continued without any further excitement. Keith glanced at Blue again. His brows were knit together in consternation, his posture more rigid than confident. Keith wanted to take him away right then, to escape into town and make him smile again. Alas, petitions lasted at least another hour before they could get away. By the time they did, Blue looked at ease once more, so Keith decided not to bring the issue up again.

Unfortunately, before he could grab Blue and escape the throne room, they were both accosted by nosy nobles. Keith hated that he couldn’t simply tell them to go away. Didn’t they have anything better to do than get into the business of other people?!

“Your Highness,” the first lady, a one Lady Vernetria of Lucely, greeted with a deep curtsy. Her companions followed suit.

Keith responded with a curt bow of his own. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The ladies giggled demurely behind their fans. Lady Vernetria was the one to speak again. She’d always been the leader of some clique or other. She was fine company for the most part, but her penchant for gossip made her exhausting at times. Keith knew exactly what she wanted to know.

“We were wondering,” she began in a lilting tone. “Just who your handsome friend is, and if you would be so gracious as to introduce us.”

Keith glanced at Blue, who didn’t seem averse. “This is Blue. He’s here as my guest. Blue, this is Lady Vernetria, Lady Katarin, and Lady Nolette.”

Blue bowed swiftly and smiled in such a way that immediately charmed the ladies. They were on him like sharks to a fresh piece of meat.

“Where are you from?”

“How long will you be staying?”

“Are you single?”

Keith cut in quickly. “Ladies, please, he doesn’t speak. Even so, I can’t speak for him, but he is welcome to stay as long as he likes.”

“Oh, the poor dear!” Lady Katarin simpered. Lady Vernetria gave her a light smack with her closed fan.

“So, your Highness, what did you think of the first petition?” Lady Nolette inquired, smirking slightly. The other two ladies had to restrain her giggles.

“I think people dying is a matter that should be taken seriously,” Keith replied with a twitch of annoyance.

The ladies recoiled slightly, but pressed forward all the same. “In that case it doesn’t seem as though the fishermen aren’t taking it very seriously, don’t you think?”

“I think they’re scared,” Keith told them honestly. “They’re clinging onto whatever explanation they can in the absence of a rational one. That happens to people who spend a lot of time out at sea.”

“Still,” Lady Katarin giggled. “Merfolk?”

“I know! I’m surprised they didn’t say they were hearing irresistible singing from the depths!” Lady Nolette shrieked. Lady Vernetria couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“Oh, Mister Blue, are you alright?” Lady Katarin asked suddenly.

Keith glanced at him, and indeed Blue was looking uncomfortable again. More than that, his eyes flashed like a storm at sea. Keith had to get him out of here, but prying himself from the clutches of court ladies was always a difficult task.

“Mister Blue, do you believe in merfolk?” Lady Vernetria questioned with a sharp flick of her fan.

Blue shook his head, but it was a sharp and jerky motion. Not entirely convincing.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear,” Lady Nolette tittered. “Merfolk aren’t real.”

“And even if they were, we’d do them just as people do in the stories,” Lady Vernetria added with a grin. “We’d spear them from top to tail, just like any other fish--”

Before Keith could do anything to get her to stop, she stopped on her own, mouth agape and eyes suddenly unfocused. Her friends tapped her shoulder urgently, concerned by this alarming state of her’s. Keith, too, was troubled. What on earth…?

She snapped out of it before too long. She shook her head and said, “Dear me, my apologies. Anyways, I’m sure you have things you’d like to be getting to, your Highness. We shouldn’t hold up you and your guest any longer. Mister Blue, I do hope we see you around for some time to come.”

Keith blinked. “Thank you, I--have a good day, ladies.”

They curtsied and took their leaves, Lady Vernetria looking utterly perplexed with her friends much in the same way. Keith was confused too. Still, it was just as well that she seemed to change her mind so suddenly. He and Blue were finally free. He looked at Blue, who looked a little confused as well. He merely shrugged. His eyes seemed more settled now than they had only a moment earlier.

“Well, that was… something. I hope they didn’t bother you too much. They’re good people, just a bit tactless at times,” Keith said as he shucked off his outer coat and passed it off to a servant. Then he smiled. “So, you ready to see what the town has to offer?”

Blue nodded earnestly, and Keith’s smile widened. They hurried outside, where a horse drawn carriage was waiting for them. Keith paused as he caught sight of the ocean. He still heard those whispers, still felt that tender touch, but they were fainter now, more distant. They were elusive as the horizon, it seemed. And yet Keith still longed for them. He climbed into the carriage after helping Blue up. Keith never liked to sit on such things for too long, and if there was nothing he could do about it, then, well…

Keith laughed as Blue studied the horses with intense fascination. Today, he decided, would be a good day.

Lance was of the same opinion, though he wasn’t able to say as much. He’d been rightly distressed at the idea of merfolk drowning humans, and more so when the ladies had interrogated him about merfolk. Of all the people they could’ve asked! In the meantime, his mind was furiously trying to discern the truth of the situation. It was possible that it was the acts of a few rogue mermaids, as the waters in that direction, as far as Lance could remember, did not belong to any particular kingdom. There was also the distinct possibility that it wasn’t merfolk at all, but the idea that merfolk were suspect at all was alarming to say the least.

Thankfully Keith made no more mention of it as they made their way out into town, and Lance was able to throw himself entirely into every new curiosity he came across. First were the four legged the beasts that looked nothing like dogs pulling the box-like object he and Keith were seated in. Lance leaned over the edge, trying to see how it all worked, only to be pulled right back in by a frantic Keith.

It wasn’t a far ride into town. There were more humans in one place than Lance had ever seen before, and that was including the castle he’d just been in! Everyone was buzzing with activity, bustling this way and that, talking to one another, bargaining, working, and all manner of amazing things.

Keith smiled at Lance’s enthusiasm.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Keith assured him.

The vehicle they were in stopped by a peculiar structure that spouted water. A few people were gathered around it. Some were merely chatting with each other, while others took water from it. At the bottom, Lance noticed something glittering. He tapped Keith urgently on the arm and pointed it out.

“Oh, that?” Keith said. “It’s just the fountain, nothing special. People get fresh water from it, and supposedly if you throw a coin in you can make a wish.”

Lance considered that for a moment. So, humans had their own sort of magic after all. If he ever got his voice back, he decided, he was going to rub that in Pidge’s face so hard. In the meantime, he had no coins to exchange for wishes, and so was about to take to his next fancy when Keith offered a coin to him, a coin quite unlike the ones Lance used to scrounge up from sunken ships for Pidge.

“Want to make a wish?” Keith asked.

Lance nodded and took the coin from Keith. He watched intently as Keith took another coin and flipped it neatly into the water, not saying a single word. His confusion must’ve shown on his face, because Keith was smiling again.

“What? If you say your wish out loud it won’t come true.”

Well then, Lance thought as he tried to imitate Keith’s motions, his wish was sure to come true. Twice he dropped his coin to the ground, finally electing to just hurl it into the water. Keith snorted, and they moved on.

There were so many things to see, so many things to do, Lance could hardly keep track of all of them. Once they passed by a cart of strange birds, which Lance knew to be birds only by the feathers that trailed after the cart. They made a strange sound that Lance didn’t even know was possible for birds to make. He thought they all screeched, like seagulls.

Keith tried his very best to show his guest the more interesting parts of town. His blue-eyed friend, however, seemed interested in just about everything, and Keith was helpless to resist as Blue dragged him to and fro, his zeal for even the smallest things seeming to know no limits. To most it might’ve seemed child-like, what with how easily Blue was distracted and how he seemed to have a blatant disregard for how things worked (Keith had to apologize profusely when Blue walked right up to a small booth where puppeteers were performing, and yanked a puppet right off the hand of some poor actor), but to Keith, it was impossibly endearing.

It was a little hard to keep up with Blue though. Where only yesterday he’d initially been unsteady on his feet as a fish out of water, Blue now hopped around effortlessly after everything that moved. Just as Keith was wondering how he was going to make it through the day, he spotted something that he was certain Blue would love.

“Hey, Blue!” he called as the young man was admiring a stall that offered a brilliant array of flowers.

Blue skipped over to Keith with a grin as bright as sunlight on the sea. Keith held out his hand. Blue took it without question, and Keith led him towards a pavillion lined with flowers, where a band had struck up a lively tune and several people had taken to dancing. As Keith suspected, Blue was immediately taken by the sight. He jumped on the spot, gesturing first between himself and the dancers, and then between him and Keith.

The question was clear as day.

“You want to dance?” Keith asked anyways.

Blue nodded.

Without another word, Keith led him out onto the pavillion. Blue’s steps were uncertain at first, as though he’d never danced before. Keith whispered gentle reassurances, the hand on Blue’s waist strong and steady. Slowly but surely, Blue learned how to not trip over his own feet, and perhaps more importantly, how to not step on Keith’s.

Soon enough they were twirling around the pavillion with fervor. Blue’s eyes were alight with mirth, his cheeks flushed. Keith found it impossible to avert his eyes from the sight.

Suddenly, Keith got an idea. He pulled Blue close, and asked, “You ready for a lift?”

Blue tilted his head. Keith grinned.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Keith said, more to himself than to Blue.

He placed both of his hands securely on Blue’s waist and held tight. Blue’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, okay?”

Blue nodded.

In time with the music, Keith lifted Blue as high as he could and twirled him around. Blue was surprised at first, and then tossed his head back in silent, rapturous laughter. Keith thought he could almost hear it, like like wind whisking over the waves. When he set Blue back on the ground, they held each other just a little closer.

Lance was breathless by the time the sun started to sink in the sky. Not only had he seen more things than his head could manage to remember, but he’d learned to dance! With Keith! And the lift! It wasn’t until Lance caught sight of the setting sun, a reminder of his limited time, that he paused for long enough to catch his breath once more.

They’d returned to the strange vehicle they’d arrived in, supposedly getting ready to return to the castle. Lance didn’t want to go. Going back meant ending the day, and ending the day just meant that much less time spent with Keith. Not that he could say that. It seemed he would just have to be content with what he’d been given.

They had just started on their way when Keith said, “Do you mind if we take a little detour? There’s one last place I want to take you.”

Lance nodded, feeling dizzy from how many times he’d repeated the motion that day. Keith sighed, seeming almost relieved that Lance was willing.

“Great,” he said with a smile. “I think you’ll really like this place.”

~*~

Allura woke with a violent start in the middle of the second day. Her cheek had been pressed into the rough texture of the last tablet she’d been reading. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, to no avail. She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep, but she did know that the sun had already been up, so she couldn’t have been asleep for that long. Instead of retiring to her room, she picked up the tablet she’d been using as a pillow and continued reading.

“Oftentimes practitioners of alchemy saw fit to masquerade themselves as other creatures, including humans,” the tablet read. “Through the art of alchemy, as they learned it from the sea itself, alchemists were able to change their forms as it suited them. However, these forms were temporary and unstable. If they shifted their forms to mimic other creatures of the sea as they were, they would simply revert to their original form after some number of days.”

Allura pressed her lips tightly together as she continued to read, “However, should creatures of the sea choose to mimic the form of creatures of the land, such as humans, there were severe consequences. Being creatures of the sea, those who mimicked the visage of humans took on even more unstable forms, which invariably collapsed into sea foam after some number of days. For this reason, few creatures chose to appear as humans.”

Allura sighed heavily. So Lotor hadn’t been lying. She pressed on, hoping for a way to reverse this inevitable end.

“There was, for those who changed their forms, only a few known ways to lend some permanence to their borrowed forms. The first, and most desirable, was for the changed creature to give their heart to someone who belonged to those creatures the changed was imitating. Oftentimes this exchange was already done before one would change to match the other. This method tends towards the more metaphysical aspect of alchemy, and signifies the willingness of both creatures to accept the worlds of one another (in spite of the contradictory nature of the action of one changing to belong to the other’s world).”

“The second method tended towards the more scientific and physical aspect of alchemy, the part that allowed for the change in the first place. It was far less desirable than the first method, and often made the changed an outcast before they could make a place for themselves in the aimed for society. This method involved the murder of one who already belonged to the aimed for society, effectively taking their place. Specifically, it was a literal version of the first method, as the changed was required to carve out their heart and hold it with them for some number of days, or until they were assured of the permanence of their form.”

Allura set the tablet aside and put her face in her hands. The first method was the one that Lotor had told Lance, only with a more specific deadline. By the way this record put it, there was a chance that Lance had a bit more time, but to the same end should he fail to secure Keith’s heart. There was no way she could convince Lance to try the second method, no matter how desperate things became. Even if presented with a human who might deserve such an end, Lance was not a killer. Allura couldn’t and more importantly wouldn’t ask that of him.

“Allura, dear?” a voice called just as Allura was nodding off again.

She whirled around, only a little startled, but then relaxed. “Oh, mother! Uh—hello.”

Queen Melenor raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering why my only daughter didn’t come to greet me when she returned so suddenly. Now I see. She’s becoming more like her father every day.”

Allura laughed, and swam into her mother’s outstretched arms. She let herself stay there a moment, let herself feel like a child overwhelmed by the vastness of the ocean, of the entire world. The world was not so large in her mother’s arms. Much as she wanted to, Allura could not linger.

“I’m sorry, mother, I didn’t mean to neglect you, it’s just that some very important things came up and our library has the best kept records,” Allura explained.

Melenor brushed a thumb across Allura’s cheek. “I can see that. Do these records also make good pillows?”

“It’s that important mother,” Allura insisted. “But I’m afraid I’ve hit another dead end.”

Melenor hummed. “Perhaps a break is in order?”

“Much as I’d love to--”

“Wonderful! Come along, dear!” Melenor trilled, promptly dragging her daughter away.

“Mother!”

“Allura!” Melenor teased. “It’s just a small break for food. Surely you don’t intend to starve yourself?”

Allura sighed. She had in fact neglected to eat anything since she buried herself in the archives.

“I suppose some food would do me some good.”

“Good!” Melenor said with a smile. “I’m afraid your father won’t be joining us, but we should have a meal together sometime, it’s been far too long.”

“What’s father up to that you can’t drag him away?” Allura inquired, now swimming beside her mother.

Her mother’s expression fell slightly. “Negotiations with the cecaelia, I’m afraid.”

“Again?!” Allura all but shrieked. She made a quick apology for her outburst before continuing. “But we just met with them before I left. What else could they want?”

They settled in a small dining room before Melenor answered. “A great many things, I’m afraid. They’ve always been rather demanding, and what with no clear heir to the throne and an ailing emperor, several factions have approached us for assistance.”

“Whatever did happen to the heir? I could’ve sworn there was one at some point,” Allura commented.

“There was, but his father banished him, I hear,” Melenor said. “They tried to keep it hush, but with that being the only heir, it was difficult to keep it so.”

“Banished his only heir? What in the seven seas happened?” Allura asked as she began to pick at the food in front of her.

“I never heard anything but rumors, but most people agree that the emperor’s son was practicing some terrifying witchcraft,” Melenor informed her in a low voice.

Allura nearly choked on her food. “Witchcraft?!”

Melenor nodded, hardly noticing her daughter’s distress. “Indeed, though everyone knows it was more likely alchemy. Your father says that their kingdom has a history of alchemy that runs just as deep as ours, but as with us it fell into disuse. I can only imagine what sort of awful things the lad must’ve done with the art to have gotten himself banished.”

“What awful things indeed,” Allura mused to herself. She pushed herself away from the table and began to swim away with a sense of urgency.

“Allura, where are you off to now?!” Melenor demanded.

“I’m sorry, mother, I’ve just had a thought that might help me break through this dead end of mine! I promise we’ll all have a meal together soon!” Allura assured her.

Instead of returning to the library, however, Allura swam to where she knew her father was talking with the cecaelian dignitaries. She had a visit to make.

~*~

“Are you alright?” Hunk asked as he peeked out of the water below the bridge that led to the castle.

Pidge was red-faced and wheezing. “Lance—spent the entire day—running around—hardly a break—“

“How are things going between him and Keith?” Hunk pressed.

“Good,” Pidge huffed as they struggled to catch their breath. “Really good. Like, I think Keith is taking Lance somewhere romantic kind of good.”

Hunk’s eyes widened. “Where is he taking him?!”

“Probably to the lagoon. Keith likes to go there on occasion, but I don’t think he really brings people there,” Pidge explained, grinning.

“Where is it? I’ll keep an eye on them so you can take a break!”

~*~

“I like to come here a lot,” Keith explained as they exited the carriage. “It’s quiet, especially once the sun starts to go down, and then the fireflies come out and it’s beautiful. The ocean is great and all, but this is something else entirely.

Perhaps it was because Blue was mute, but Keith felt as though he could talk a lot more freely around him. At the very least, he felt like he was filling up a lot of the conversational space between them. Blue didn’t seem to mind. He watched Keith with a sort of earnestness that Keith wasn’t quite used to, but that he found he didn’t mind. Sometimes he would try to tell Keith something (usually his name), but Keith could usually only guess what he was saying about half the time. He hoped he could get better.

Keith led Blue by the hand down towards the water, where a well-kept dinghy was hidden in the reeds.

“I like to swim around here a lot too, so we could do that instead if you want,” Keith suggested. “It’s a nice enough night for it.”

Blue looked hesitant, but curious.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Keith assured him.

Blue shook his head and then gestured between himself and the water. He made a paddling motion, and then tapped a finger to his temple. He shook his head again.

“You don’t want to? No, you want to…” Keith followed along. “But you… you’re swimming—oh! You don’t know how to swim!”

Blue nodded with a grin, delighted that Keith had guessed what he’d been saying.

“That’s alright, I can teach you!” Keith said eagerly. “That is, if you want to, anyways…”

Blue nodded.

Keith stripped off his shoes and shirt, and Blue copied him with rapt attention. Blue grasped Keith’s hand tightly as they waded into lavender waters. Keith never took his eyes off of him, watching as he gasped silently at the chill of the water. Around them, crickets were already humming their nightly serenade. The wind swept through the reeds with a soft shushing sound. They were wading deeper, the water creeping up their waists, when Blue slipped and pitched forward, splashing about in alarm. Keith pulled him closer.

“Don’t worry,” Keith said quietly as he wrapped an arm around Blue’s waist. “I’ve got you.”

Blue nodded. He trusted Keith, his eyes seemed to say. Carefully, Keith brought them both out to deeper waters. Blue’s eyes widened as the water started to lap at his chin, and Keith paused.

“Can you still touch the bottom?” Keith asked. Blue nodded. “Good. I’m going to let go for a bit, just so I can show you what to do, okay?”

Blue was more hesitant at that, but nodded all the same. Keith did not go more than an arm’s reach away as he began to move his arms in slow, wide circles.

“See the way I’m moving my arms? I’m also kicking my legs just enough to keep my head above the water. This is how you tread water. It doesn’t take up much energy, but it won’t get you anywhere either. Give it a try,” Keith encouraged.

Blue began to move his arms, trying to mimic just how Keith was doing it.

“You have to kick your legs too,” Keith reminded him.

With a resolved expression, Blue hopped in the water and then dropped right under the surface. His arms flailed wildly and Keith rushed to pull him right back up. Blue sputtered and snorted and looked very confused. He clung to Keith with a silent desperation, his eyes seeming to say, “Please don’t let me go.”

“It takes a little getting used to,” Keith chuckled once he was sure Blue was okay. “Most people around here know how to swim as soon as they can walk, some even sooner. I suppose it goes with living right on the coast.”

Keith took to spinning them slowly in the water, almost like a dance. Blue did not object in the slightest. Neither of them moved to let go of the other.

“I was actually older than most when I first learned to swim,” Keith admitted. “I suppose that goes along with being a prince. Everyone wants to protect you. Shiro was really bad about that when I was little, but I eventually convinced him that it would be safer for me if I knew how to swim. So he got someone to teach me. It was actually here that I learned to swim. The water is calm, much more so than the ocean, so it’s a good place to learn.”

Blue pushed at Keith’s shoulder gently as though pushing away.

Keith raised his eyebrows. “You want to try again?”

Blue nodded.

“Alright then.”

There was no telling how much time passed as Keith and Blue splashed about in the lagoon. Keith laughed often and loudly, accompanied by Blue’s silent giggles. Blue was clumsy but eager. Once he moved his legs in such a way that Keith thought of a mermaid. When he teased as much, however, Blue only offered a tight smile in return. Keith, reminded of the petition from that very morning, wanted to ask what had Blue so bothered about it, but they were having a good time. He didn’t want to upset Blue if he didn’t have to. Besides, Keith could always ask later.

The stars above were already shining brightly by the time Blue could swim on his own, much to the delight of both of them. Keith led him through the waters of the lagoon, leading him towards a large, drooping willow that had always been Keith’s favorite place. Once or twice they heard some loud splashing that hadn’t come from either of them, that Keith brushed off as being some overzealous fish or other. By the look of it, Blue didn’t quite agree with him, but made no motion of protest.

Keith pulled aside the branches of the willow like a curtain, and was delighted to find the fireflies out in full force within. Blue, too, seemed overwhelmingly in awe of them, tapping Keith urgently on his shoulder and pointing excitedly. The water under the willow was shallow enough that Blue took to chasing after the bright bugs. He pouted when they slipped right through his fingers, and Keith couldn’t help but chuckle. With practiced poise, Keith scooped a few out of the air while Blue wasn’t looking. He called out to Blue, and when he came close enough, Keith released them, lighting up Blue’s already bright face.

Blue’s entire body shook with silent laughter. Keith smiled fondly. Then Blue went to try to catch some again. Keith was just about to show him how to do it when, just as Blue was staring with intense concentration at the bright bugs, when several of them flew straight into his cupped hands. Delighted, Blue moved over to Keith and released them just in front of him, a mimic of what Keith had done for him.

Keith laughed, the warmth in his chest a gentle contrast to the slight chill of the water. Blue was smiling, eyes shining. They were standing close now, just enough room to breathe. Keith didn’t move away. Neither did Blue.

“I wish I knew your name,” he whispered in the space between them. He laughed when Blue repeated that motion again, the one he always used to mime his name. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

A harsh, whisper-like sound made Keith whip his head around. It had sounded like someone was there, but Keith couldn’t see anyone. There was no one there but him and Blue. Looks could be deceiving sometimes, however.

“Did you hear something?”

Blue shrugged. He mimed his name again.

“Okay, okay. It’s a type of weapon, right?” Blue nodded. “And it’s not a pike, or a spear, or a halberd… Probably not a staff, but then, you don’t normally jab with a staff anyways…”

Blue rolled his eyes. Keith thought he heard that whisper again, closer and more insistent. It almost sounded like someone saying--

“Lance?” Keith mumbled, eyes suspiciously roving their surroundings.

Excited splashing from Blue caught his attention again. He was nodding, pointing at Keith, and grinning widely. He mimed his name a third time.

“What? I said--oh! Lance! Your name is Lance!” Keith exclaimed.

Blue--or rather, Lance, grabbed Keith’s hand, jumping in what could only be described as sheer elation. Keith didn’t blame him. He’d probably be excited too if no one had been calling him by his name for almost two whole days.

“Lance,” Keith repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. Lance settled down, still smiling. “I don’t know how I didn’t guess that before… it suits you.”

Lance’s eyes locked with his, and Keith once more found himself entranced by how they seemed to be filled to the brim with the ocean itself. Keith had no doubt he could easily drown in them. He found he wouldn’t mind if he did. It was like a rip current pulling him out to sea. There was no swimming against it. Lance’s eyelashes fluttered, but it did little to deter Keith as the distance between them shrank. He could hear the soft rush of Lance’s breath as it went past his lips, like the rush of waves along the beach. It carried away the memory of a whisper, and let it sink to the ocean floor where all forgotten things went. Keith let his eyes close. There was no swimming against this current.

“Lance!”

Lance and Keith sprang apart from one another. Lance was frozen in place, equal parts horrified and furious. Just as quickly as the emotions came over him, however, they left, replaced by heavy dread. Hunk wouldn’t call out to him for no reason, not when Lance had been so close. Something was wrong.

Keith meanwhile was searching with his eyes and completely on guard. There would be no playing it off this time. He turned to Lance, eyes full of distrust.

“Who was—“

Before he could finish his question, Keith was dragged underneath the water with little more than a gasp. Lance plunged in after him unthinkingly. The water here was not like the water of the ocean, and so didn’t sting too much when Lance tried to open his eyes. There, just ahead, Keith was struggling against the hands of a very familiar mermaid with the tail of a shark. She had him from behind, her clawed hands clasped tightly around his throat. He kicked and thrashed wildly, but to no avail. The mermaid noticed Lance and said something, but all Lance could hear was a bubbly noise.

Lance tried to move towards them, but his human limbs were still awkward and unsure in the water. His lungs were already burning. He would have to resurface for air. But how far would this mermaid be able to get with Keith before Lance made it back down? How much longer could Keith last? Already his struggling was becoming sluggish. Lance pressed forward, his own need for air be damned. If Keith died here Lance was as good as dead anyways.

Only before he could even get close, strong arms wrapped around Lance and set to squeezing the life out of him. The pressure against his throat was enough to make him cough and sputter. Water began to flood him, betraying him where it had once been his friend. It burned like nothing Lance had ever experienced. He flailed as hard as he could, trying to get some leeway, but to no avail. Everything hurt. No matter what he did, Lance couldn’t stop the stuttering of his lungs, couldn’t stop taking in more water.

Lance locked eyes with the mermaid choking the life out of Keith, silently pleading for her to let him go, for something to make her let go, to go away and not bother them again! His thoughts were screaming as loud as his lungs, and in his fading consciousness he thought he saw the mermaid falter, thought he saw her hands loosen slightly…

And then Lance could breathe again. He didn’t know how or why, but he was coughing and retching and very much alive. Distantly he thought there’d been a golden flash before his eyes; Lance had thought he was well and truly dying. Now he wasn’t. Had Keith rescued him? Lance blinked the water out of his eyes, instinctively moving his mouth to call out. Keith was nowhere to be seen. He was still in danger.

Lance was getting ready to dive back into the water when Hunk surfaced dramatically, hauling an unconscious Keith along with him. He had a fierce air about him, one that Lance wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen before. Hunk spotted Lance gaping.

“What are you doing?! Get out of the water!” he commanded.

Lance didn’t dare dally at that tone. He went as fast as his human body would take him. It was markedly slower than what he was used to, slower even than Hunk, who was encumbered by Keith’s weight. All the while he worried that one of the mermaids would return to finish off Keith, or himself, or perhaps Hunk for having gotten in the way. Despite his worries, they made it to shore safely, Lance taking Keith where Hunk could no longer go.

Immediately Lance pressed his ear to Keith’s chest. His heart was still beating, but his breath was coming in short, staccatoed gasps as though he were still drowning. Perhaps he was. There were bruises and scratches all along his neck, and a stark cut running down his cheek where the mermaid had evidently slipped when trying to get a hold of Keith. It was bleeding sluggishly. Lance looked to Hunk, who could offer nothing but a worried expression.

“I don’t know, bud,” Hunk said quietly.

Lance’s thoughts were racing faster than he could keep up with them. He’d started to breath as soon as he’d left the water, although he’d also had to cough up a substantial amount of water. He also hadn’t lost consciousness. Would Keith be alright if Lance let him be? Would he deteriorate? Lance checked to make sure Keith’s heart was still beating. It was. How much longer would that last?

Lance looked at Hunk again. Hunk was looking out towards the lagoon, occasionally ducking underwater to keep watch for those mermaids.

“I spotted them lurking around not too long after you guys got in the water,” Hunk explained. “I thought maybe they were just keeping an eye on you for Lotor, but then I started to wonder why he would need to do that. That’s why I was trying to get your attention.”

Lance frowned as guilt washed over him like the coming tide. It seemed Lance was as careless as usual. He looked down at Keith, who was still unconscious, still struggling to breathe properly. Perhaps it would’ve been better if he’d never become human at all, Lance considered.

“Lance, I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t your fault,” Hunk assured him.

Lance shook his head and began to move his hands, gesturing to himself, then to Hunk, and finally to Keith. It was hardly clear, and not nearly enough to express what he was trying to say. So instead, Lance turned away from Hunk and hugged himself tightly. He felt like he was drowning all over again.

“Lance,” Hunk called gently. “Lance, listen to me, this isn’t your fault. Whatever Lotor is up to is on him, not you.”

Turning back to Hunk, Lance gestured vaguely. Thankfully, Hunk seemed to understand.

“We knew from the beginning that Lotor might not be trustworthy. Maybe I don’t get why he’d want to drown you and Keith, but that just means that there’s something bigger going on that we just don’t know,” Hunk insisted.

Despite still being convinced that if he hadn’t been so reckless this would’ve never happened, Hunk’s words did spark something in Lance’s mind. It was something that Lance knew he couldn’t communicate with vague hand gestures, however, no matter how well Hunk knew him. So Lance took to drawing crudely in the sand that met the shallow water. Hunk squinted at the lines, trying to decipher their meaning.

“Okay, uhm… That’s the sun… And it’s rising… Wow, water, very specific… an arrow? Oh! You mean water in the direction the sun rises in, got it! Okay, okay, now we’ve got humans on boats, got it, and… merfolk? Wait, hold on, are they--?”

Hunk stopped short, his expression distraught.

“You’re not saying that there’s merfolk drowning humans again, are you?” Hunk asked.

Lance shook his head as he pointed to himself.

“But humans think so?”

Lance pointed at Keith and shook his head again.

“Not all humans, but some. How are they even sure it’s merfolk at all?”

Lance shrugged and then pointed out towards the lagoon.

Hunk blinked. “Lotor. What in the seven seas is he up to?”

Lance shrugged again and turned back towards Keith. Still breathing, if only just.

“Lance, I think I need to tell Allura what’s happening,” Hunk said slowly. “The last thing I want to do is leave you, but something is going on here and while I was able to take those two mermaids on my own this time, I only think that’s because they didn’t expect me to be here. They swam away as soon as they realized I was here. I don’t think we’ll be so lucky next time.”

Reluctantly, Lance nodded. As long as he and Keith remained on land, they were safe from Lotor’s reach. And he’d have Pidge, and to some extent Keith and Shiro and Adam. But what of Hunk and Allura and anyone else that got involved? Would they be safe from Lotor? Just what was Lotor trying to accomplish anyways?

As if reading Lance’s mind, Hunk said, “We’ll be fine. It’s not like Lotor is killing off merfolk, aside from you, anyways. I mean, look at what just happened! They turned tail as soon as I showed up! And you know Allura’s no pushover either.”

Lance nodded again, a little more certain this time. As if on cue, Keith began to cough violently, trying to expel all the water he’d inhaled. Hunk left with a silent nod to Lance. Keith rolled over onto his side, and Lance, not knowing what else to do, rubbed soothing circles on his back. Eventually Keith managed to take a huge gulp of air and flopped back onto his back, breathing hard.

He opened his eyes when Lance traced the edge of the cut on his cheek. Lance worried that those eyes would be full of distrust once more, as they had been when he heard Hunk call out for Lance. Keith’s eyes widened for a split second; Lance’s breath caught in his throat. Then he softened entirely, smiling as he took Lance’s hand with his.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he rasped.

Lance couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve in his body seemed to snap with the force of his silent sobs. His breath came quickly, and just when Lance thought it couldn’t get any worse, his face suddenly felt hot and wet. He recoiled, realizing that there was something spilling out of his eyes. He pressed his hands to his eyes. Now was not the time to start leaking! He didn’t even know that this was a thing that happened to humans!

“Hey, hey,” Keith hushed, sitting up and taking Lance’s hands from him. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

Lance shook his head, trying to tug his hands back. Things were most certainly not okay! Lotor was up to something devious and there was no telling what, humans were being drowned and they were blaming merfolk for it, Lance had managed to drag Keith into all of it, and now, on top of everything else, his face was leaking! Why had he ever thought becoming human would be a good idea?!

Keith wiped the wetness from his face, apparently not as concerned about it as Lance was.

“Hey, Lance, listen to me,” Keith said, as gentle as could be. “Everything’s going to be alright. We’re alive, we’re okay.”

Lance touched the cut on Keith’s face.

Keith shrugged, saying, “It could be worse.”

With some gentle coaxing, Keith helped Lance back into the vehicle they’d arrived in. The ride back to the castle was silent, punctuated only by Lance’s sniffles. Once in a while Keith would reach over and offer some gentle touch or other. Sometimes he would rub circles on Lance’s back, other times he would brush Lance’s hair back (although it was short enough that it was never in Lance’s face). Lance welcomed the contact, leaning into it every time.

The hour was late, and no one else was on the road. They made their return swiftly. Where before Lance had been reluctant to return to the castle, he now welcomed it. The castle meant safety. As long as they were here, they were safe. Lance glanced at the ocean just before they went inside. Was this to be part of his life as a human, should he make it past tomorrow?

Keith led Lance back to the room he’d stayed in the night before, clasping his hands tightly all the while.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he told Lance. “Change into something warm and dry.”

He turned to leave, but Lance held tight to his hand with a questioning expression.

“I have to talk to Shiro,” Keith explained.

When Lance still looked confused, Keith elaborated, “Whatever attacked us in the water wasn’t any ordinary fish. And it’s no coincidence that this happened the same day we got a petition from supposedly superstitious sailors.”

Lance’s eyes widened.

“There’s merfolk in the waters. And they’re trying to kill us.”

#klance #voltron #voltron legendary defender #fanfic #fan fiction #fic #creesh.txt #that which belongs to the sea #twbtts #chapter 2 #text #long post

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