#gotta settle those sliding scales down

[orcelito]

Fixing my dialog up

Blurgh

#speculation nation #itnl shit #the struggle of writing a new character is conceptualizing their Voice #gotta settle those sliding scales down #i had formality scale too formal i think. hes kind of formal but in a pretentious way. not a true formality. #a little bit stilted in speech. trying to intimidate. trying to seem like hes got the upper hand always #talking down to people. like theyre lesser than him. #seemingly unflappable. at least at this point in the story. just a bastard man with a bastard plan. #im cross referencing manga dialog rn. i wrote originally with the 98 anime dub voice in mind #which has some Vibes but is less concrete #im going for concrete now. gotta finalize this fucking dialog. #once i smooth it out then i can go tie up the end of the scene #and Then i start the formal overall edit sweep for general coherency and consistency #as well as looking for any minor mistakes i couldve missed in earlier editing sweeps #aka. my usual process lol #i am just squinting angry bitch annoyance at this fuckin bastard man. trying to figure out how he talks #it's kind of difficult to figure out the minor differences due to Things and how that would actually go into effect #what they dont tell u about writing is that it is so very hard actually. god damn.

[wazzupmrstark]

instead of you [part fifteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

series masterlist

Don’t tell Sam. Sam. SAM.

“Shit.”

You had to fix this in a matter of seconds. Should you slap him? Act like nothing happened? Pretend you were drunker than you actually were and play dumb?

“Wait, you’re not Sam?” you squinted your eyes like you were trying to see who was in front of you, acting like you were too drunk to remember who you were with. “Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Tom tried. 

“I-” you didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything!” You’d be lying if you told yourself that didn’t sting a little. If he didn’t have any sort of feelings for you, why would he kiss you? “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Please don’t tell my brother.”

“You want me to lie to my boyfriend?”

“I mean, is it lying if you just don’t mention it?”

“It’s a lie of omission- are you really going to debate me about philosophy right now?”

“Then yes, I do want you to lie to your boyfriend because if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again.”

“You realize what kind of position that puts me in?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

You couldn’t even think straight. Feelings of confusion, panic, anger, and regret fought for control of your conscience. “What if someone had seen us? Taken a picture of us? You’re a public fucking figure, Tom. That could’ve put your career at risk.” “Don’t you think I know that?” he growled. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how stupid it was.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

You stood from the table to leave, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but he called after you, your name echoing in your ears like a warning. Reluctantly, you turned back to face him with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

You stared him down for a moment, watching nerves etch themselves onto his features before answering. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

It was a promise you didn’t want to make, but you felt like you had no other choice. You hadn’t just broken the ‘no flirting’ rule, you’d blown straight past it into completely uncharted territory. And technically Tom had been the one to initiate, you hadn’t kissed him back, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt something when he did. 

You had never lied to Sam before- at least not on this scale. You felt sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

You almost didn’t want to go back to your room. You urged the elevator to go as slow as possible as you checked your appearance in the reflective wall. The tarnished gold was smudged with handprints, but you were still able to make out your ruined lipstick. You weren’t sure it had been messed up sometime during dinner, or if it was Tom’s doing but you couldn’t take a chance. You used your thumb to wipe away the evidence as the intercom on the elevator let out a ding to let you know you’d reached your floor.

With a shaky breath you pushed yourself into the hallway and forced yourself to put one foot in front of the other to walk to your room. You didn’t have a key, so you had to knock. You half-hoped Sam was already asleep, even if it meant you’d have to spend the night in the hallway. 

But as luck would have it he was still up and he opened the door seconds later. He was definitely out of it, blinking at you to put you in focus. 

“There you are,” he said tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. “I was wondering when you’d come up.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you up,” you apologized as you breezed past him into the room. 

“Nah, I was just messing around.”

A lie, you knew, but you let it slide knowing you were keeping a much bigger secret. He was already dressed for bed in his boxers and one of your t-shirts and his hair was wet from a shower. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your anxious energy.

You nodded. “I had too much to drink.”

“Ah, me too, I think. Come take a shower. It’ll help.” 

You took his advice and tried to sober up in the shower, letting the cold water run over your bare skin until you were shivering. When it didn’t make you feel any better you turned off the faucet completely and dried off, wrapping a towel around your body and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

“Y/n?” came Sam’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You sighed. Why did he have to know you better than you knew yourself? You pushed yourself up from the tub and opened the door. 

“I had like three more shots after you left,” you mumbled.

The color drained from his face as he took in this additional information and he frowned. “Jesus, I thought I was drunk. Do you feel sick?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well let’s go to bed,” he urged. His accent was always thicker when he was drunk, and in a funny way it sounded like home, like all of those Friday nights back on campus. 

Sam gave you space to change into your clothes for bed and crawled under the covers to wait for you. You dressed yourself, hung your towel in the bathroom, and shut off the main light before feeling your way through the darkness over to the bed. 

You managed to get your drunk ass in bed without tripping which you considered to be a miracle. Sam slung his arm across your stomach as soon as you settled on the mattress and pulled you against his hip. You tensed underneath his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You couldn’t relax no matter how hard you tried, and sleep taunted you for hours, hovering just out of your reach. 

Sam’s alarm woke you from restless dreaming some hours later, when the sun had barely brushed the horizon. 

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow. Your head was pounding and you didn’t even want to think about facing Tom. The simple motion of rolling over had made you nauseous and you knew that standing up was going to be a whole nother ordeal. 

“Come on, love,” Sam said, nudging you with his knee. He was already sitting up, rolling the tension out of his neck from a night on the stiff mattress. “We gotta be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt pathetic. You didn’t have the strength to be around Tom today, especially with Sam right there.

“Don’t feel good,” you moaned.

“We’re all hungover,” Sam sighed. “We’re not even doing that much walking today.”

You turned your head enough for him to see the tears running down your cheeks and he pursed his lips, expression turning worried. 

“Oh.”

“Can you make something up?” you pleaded. 

He nodded. “I’ll tell them you have a fever or something.”

You swallowed your shame and squeezed your eyes shut, whispering thanks into his shirt. Sam kissed your forehead and then got up. You vaguely heard him moving around the room getting ready, but drifted in and out of sleep as he did. 

Once he was dressed he softly told you goodbye, that he hoped you felt better, and that he’d bring you back some food later on. 

The door clicked shut and you let your guilt continue eating you alive. 

You wondered how Tom would react when Sam told his family you weren’t feeling well, if his face would give anything away. He was an actor, he should be able to handle it. But you also wondered what he was feeling, if he felt as guilty as you did- or even more so. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. You never knew when it came to him.

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on a pillow, using the free time to respond to some messages from friends and family. It was the middle of the night back in the States, but at least they’d wake up knowing you weren’t dead. To be fair, everyone knew your communication skills weren’t the best so they probably weren’t expecting anything from you anyway, but you still wanted to put in the effort. 

The rest of the day passed by quicker than you would’ve liked. You spent it in bed, tossing and turning as you desperately tried to fall back asleep. You kept pushing the blankets off of you, then burying yourself beneath them again, flipping between hot and cold. Maybe you really did have a fever. Your clothes were suffocating you so you ended up stripping and dropping them on the floor by the bed. 

By the mercy of some higher power you were able to nap for a couple of hours scattered throughout the afternoon, but by dinner time you were wide awake again and passed the time by watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in Italian on the hotel tv. 

It was playing an earlier episode, the one where the gaang visited Kyoshi Island. You couldn’t understand any of the dialogue, obviously, but you still found comfort in the familiar scenes. 

There was a knock on the door suddenly, startling you out of your focus. You jerked your head towards the sound and scrambled from the bed. You slipped back into your t-shirt, but didn’t bother putting on pants before opening the door because you figured it was just Sam. And it was. He looked exhausted, but in the best kind of way and was holding a styrofoam container of food that was presumably for you.

“Forgot the key,” he said sheepishly, offering you the food. You smiled and took it from him, stepping aside to let him in. 

He didn’t take your cue, instead he stayed where he was standing in the doorway awkwardly. It was then that you realized he wasn’t alone, that his older brother had been standing behind him the entire time.

Sam offered no explanation, only shrugged like he didn’t know why he was there either.

“Tom?” you asked, awaiting an explanation for yourself.

“Can we talk?” 

ik tags haven’t been working idk why i’m sorry!!! but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland series #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x bi!reader

[randomrosewrites]

The aftermath of the tempest

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x GN reader Summary: Many, many years after Kaedehara Kazuha fled from Inazuma, a lot of things have changed, but his past burdens remain. Or, Kazuha has settled into his new life in Liyue, but still desires his home across the ocean. Words: ~2.7K Tags: Fluff, established relationship, Kaz and reader have a kid, gn pronouns for reader, kaz gets emotional at some point, implied beigguang as well

a/n: What's this? Rose is actually writing??!!

Read it on ao3!

The young girl furrows her brows, front teeth catching her lip as she stares at the board. She's in deep concentration, barely paying any mind to the sweets or the apple cider (poured within a much too expensive cup) beside her.

Her opponent, on the other hand, is the opposite, holding a cup of tea within her palms, white steam drifting from the cup the same colour as her hair. A mystical smile on the woman’s face gives nothing away.

The young girl places a hand on a chip. Then hesitates, thinking a moment more before making a move.

The woman sets her cup down, ruby eyes scanning over the board before she lifts a jewelled hand, moving chips across the board in great succession.

"And with that, I believe I win," Ningguang says. "You did very well this time."

The young girl pouts, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"Oh, don't tear up. It's alright," Ningguang produces a handkerchief and holds it out.

The girl takes it gratefully, hiding her face in the cloth. "Uh- huh."

Ningguang exhales. Children are so delicate, like the petals of glaze lilies. "How about you go to the other room? I'll clean up here."

The girl nods, and slides off her chair. "Can I take my juice?"

"Of course, you may. But remember to hold it carefully."

She nods.Holding the cup carefully with two hands, she slides open the silk screen and enters the next room.

Your head turns at the sound, looking up from your spot by the window: perched upon a lounge chair, feet up. You smile and gesture for the girl to sit beside you. She sets her cup down and crawls next to you, burying her face in your chest.

"How did your game go, Haruko?" You ask, combing her hair free of tangles.

Haruko shakes her head and a sniffle escapes her. "I lost."

You hum sympathetically, “I'm sorry. There's always next time. You and Lady Ningguang were playing for a really long time! Good job."

Harukao's grip loosens a smidge. "Thank you."

The screen door slides open again and Ningguang steps through. The material of her gold dress drags behind her as she walks, the movement smooth as water. She has a familiar treat nestled in the palm of her hands, a famous Liyue sweet candy.

You nudge Harkuo gently. She lifts her head, crimson eyes widening when she sees the candy. She scrambles out of your lap.

Seeing them side by side, Haruko looks more like Ningguang’s daughter than yours. Their eye colour and hair are almost identical. But Ningguang has high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, whereas Haruko has round, filled in cheeks, like her father.

"For you," Ningguang offers it to Haruko. "As thanks for an excellent game of checkers."

Haruko takes the candy with an excited beam on her face. "Thank you, Aunt Ningguang!"

“You are most welcome.”

With the candy, Haruko’s sadness about losing the match is all but forgotten. She rummages through one of the cabinets by the wall, pulling out a colouring book (A collection of cartoon-like Rex Lapis drawings in his dragon form) and the crayons that are specifically kept there.

Many years had passed since the first golden house went crashing into the ocean after the battle with the Ancient God Osial. But the loss only pushed Ningguang to rebuild the new one, bigger, more elegant, and efficient than the last.

Currently, it was parked atop Mount Tianheng, overlooking the harbour. It was fancy, the walls a rich cream and the floors polished dark brown. Some things had to be kid-proofed (especially when Haruko was younger and Beidou insisted on bringing her to visit.) But now, she’s old enough, and familiar enough with the building, that you’re not worried. Not even by the koi pond that circles the living room.

Ningguang plants herself across from you on the couch as Haruko begins to colour in Rex Lapis’ tail. “She’s growing bigger and bigger every day.”

You nod in agreement. “I swear, she’ll be taller than her father soon enough.”

Ningguang laughs. “Sooner or later.”

Haruko’s finished two drawings and is on the third when you look outside the window to the Port of Liyue harbour, glimmering with the midday sun. The familiar outline of the Alcor’s sail and ship dots the horizon. You stand up.

"Are you finished with your juice, Haruko? We're going to get ready soon."

She perks up. "Is dad here?"

You smile at her. "Yes. Almost. You want to be the first to greet him, don't you?"

She nods adamantly, hurrying to put away her things in their proper places.

"There are some ingredients in the kitchen if you'd like to prepare a lunch before you depart," Ningguang suggests.

“Thank you,” you say to her, before turning to your daughter. “What would you like to make?”

She thinks for a moment. “What do you think dad would like?”

“Hm. Anything that isn’t fish,” you make your way to the kitchen, Haruko following closely behind. “After a month at sea, I think he’s sick of fish.”

---

Lunch made and packaged, you and Haruko begin the long walk down to the Port. Steps of green plaustrite appear as you walk. They used to frighten Haruko terribly. Now, though, she loves the way they appear under her feet and disappear when she steps off.

“Watch your steps,” you remind her. Though you trust Ningguang’s architects, you want her to be careful.

“Uh-huh,” Haruko says, half-listening. She’s always distractible on these types of days.

Kazuha isn’t a frequent member onboard the Alcor anymore, but occasionally Beidou will plead with him to accompany her. She says his anemo vision makes cutting through enemies so much easier.

Kazuha will go on month-long voyages with the Crux, maybe two months if he feels like it, but refuses anything more. He doesn’t want to spend time away from you or your daughter.

By the time you arrive at the docks, you’re sweating and the Alcor is pulling into the harbour. Haruko hops up on a dock anchor, waving to the ship.

“Hi!”

A deafening honk sounds from the ship, making Haruko laugh. Then again. Then once more. Honk honk honk honk-

Jeez, Ningguang can probably hear the boat from Mount Tianheng.

Haruko stands back just enough so that the sailors can tie the boat off and lower the gangplank, then she’s rushing onboard the ship. A woman hops down from the wheel, holding out her arms as Haruko leaps into them.

“Auntie Beidou!”

“Hiya Haru!” Beidou grins, swinging your daughter around in a bear hug, long brown hair flying everywhere. “How have you been? Jeez, you’re getting tall!”

“Good! Aunt Ningguang said she misses you.”

Beidou’s grin widens. “Has she, now?”

“Beidou,” you greet sweetly. (Walking on board with much more restraint.) “It’s good to see you’re well.”

Her eye softens. Haruko slowly slides out of her arms. “The same to you. I thought you guys were coming to meet us tomorrow?”

Your house, the one you and Kazuha have, is right on the border between Mondstadt and Liyue. It’s far from the port but it’s quiet, nestled by the beaches of Yaoguang Shoal.

“Well, Ningguang offered us to stay last night, so we did. Haruko wanted to see her dad as soon as possible.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, good to see you again.” Beidou turns to Haruko, mischievous smile on her face. “Your dad’s gonna be thrilled, watch this.”

She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “Kaz!”

High up on the mast, a tuft of white hair pops out from the crow’s nest. You smile and give a wave. The tuft disappears, and quick as the wind, the man reappears, hastily scaling down the mast.

He jumps the rest of the way and rolls to his feet, brushing white hair from his eyes, and is promptly tackled by Haruko, nearly losing his balance.

“Daddy!” she squeals.

“Haruko,” Kazuha grins, hoisting her up to rest against his side. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

“Good, dad. How was your trip? What did you do? Did you see any scary monsters?”

“Scary monsters, hm, I may have encountered a few.”

“You gotta tell me over lunch – can we eat it in the bird's nest? We made lunch for you!”

“Crow’s nest,” Kazuha corrects gently. “And really? Wow. Did you help make it?”

“Uh-huh! But I’m not telling you what it is; it’s a surprise! You’ll have to open it like a present.”

“That sounds lovely, Haruko. Thank you.”

You walk up to them and press a kiss to Kazuha’s cheek. “Hi, Kaz.”

“Hello, love,” Kazuha purrs, leaning into your touch. “You look stunning.”

Beidou guaffs, Haruko’s nose wrinkles. “Ew.”

(She used to scream at Kazuha to stop whenever he’d recite sappy love poems to you, covering his mouth with both hands so he’d stop talking. It always made you laugh.)

You pull away from Kazuha and save your daughter and Beidou from your ‘gross’ affections. “The journey to Inazuma ok?”

His eyes briefly harden. He smiles tightly. “It was alright.”

There’s a hidden we’ll talk about this later in his voice, unnoticed by Haruko. She wriggles and Kazuha sets her down.

“Can we climb the mast now?”

Kazuha takes her hand, “Ask the captain.”

“Auntie – Captian Beidou, can we climb the mast please?”

Beidou ruffles her head. “Of course you can, kid. Keep an eye out for me on there, yeah?” Then to Kazuha. “I gotta run some errands on land. If I’m not back by the time you’re gone, thanks for everything.”

Kazuha raises a brow. “Might those ‘errands’ have anything to do with that golden brocade you bought?”

Beidou just waves and grins, trotting off the gangplank and jogging towards the Jade Chamber.

---

The crow’s nest is really only meant for one person standing up, much less three adults and one child, but you make it work. Haruko is obviously given the best seat, you’re squashed beside her, and Kazuha balances on the edge of the nest, legs dangling over the air.

“Why can’t I do that?” Haruko asks as you unpack lunch.

“Because it’s dangerous. Your dad’s very experienced and can catch himself if he falls.”

You’ve seen it happen many times before. Kazuha losing his footing or grip, that split second when he fell and your heart stopped. Then the gust of air that followed, propelling himself back up to safety.

“Once you’re bigger, you can do this,” Kazuha says.

Haruko huffs. “You always say that…”

He chuckles and pats her head. “We just want you safe, is all.”

You pass out bowls and chopsticks around. Kazuha helps affix a chopstick holder to Haruko’s (she’s getting better, but it’s still a challenge to her.) Haruko insists Kazuha close his eyes as you pour out lunch.

“Ok, you can open them!” she says once things are all set.

Kazuha opens his eyes. A steaming bowl of Jueyun Guoba rests in his hands. Juicy cuts of ham, crisp Jueyun chilis, and the rich aroma enough to make your mouth water.

“Ta-dah! What do you think?”

“Oh, Haruko, it looks divine. You made this?”

“Yep! Hurry and taste it!”

Kazuha takes a bite, closing his eyes. “Delicious. So tasty. Captain Beidou should hire you as a chef, or better yet, wanmin restaurant should hire you.”

Haruko grins ear to ear, “Hehe, thank you.”

As you all eat, Kazuha tells you all about the adventures from his trips. How he saw the most beautiful of flowers, or how he fought a translucent glowing eel, Captian Beidou cooked it up and ate it, how she was sick for three straight days afterwards.

Haruko listens to him intently, staring at Kazuha with such a light in her eyes that makes your stomach flutter with pride.

You snuggle closer to Haruko, wrapping an arm around her. The three of you like actual crows, tucked high away, safe from the clutches of the outside world.

---

Haruko wears Kazuha out that day.

She seems to want to do everything Kazuha missed for the past month in a single day. You told her she needn’t rush – Kazuha wasn’t going away any time soon - but that didn’t deter her in the slightest.

You soak your feet in the icy ocean and search for seashells in the sand. You catch crystal flies in the old ruins, delighting in the way Haruko’s face lights up when the yellow wings fade, leaving just the core. You scale one of the many stone cliffs just to enjoy the view as Kazuha plays a tune from a passing leaf.

On your way home, you get some mora meat from a vendor and share the remaining candies from Ningguang as the sun dips below the horizon. When Haruko’s eyes begin to droop, Kazuha carries her on his back the rest of the way home.

Kazuha brushes the hair from her face, kissing her forehead delicately. “Good night, my starlight. May your dreams be as sweet as shooting stars.”

“Poetic,” you murmur, barely containing a laugh.

Kazuha’s eyes gleam as the two of you tuck the covers tight around Haruko, kiss her once more for good measure, then gently close the door on her bedroom.

Finally, alone, Kazuha wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head against your shoulder and sighing.

“Tired, pretty boy?” you ask, a lilt of mirth in your voice.

Kazuha hums in agreement, releasing you to intertwine your fingers. He gazes at you, eyes-half lidded, and presses a smattering of kisses to your hand.

“Shall we go on a walk?”

You glance at Haruko’s bedroom.

“Don’t worry,” Kazuha reassures you. “The wind will watch over her.”

You’re tired, but you’ve also missed Kazuha enough to fight off your slumber. You both wrap up, then make the walk down to the sandy pools of Yougung. The full moon is high in the sky, the breeze cool against your skin.

“Things are still bad over in Inazuma,” Kazuha begins, softly. The wind almost carries his voice away. “It’s gotten better. The vision hunt decree is struck down. Some visions have been returned to the people, but things are still very tense over there…It’s not a place where I want to bring our daughter…”

You squeeze his fingers tightly. It’s felt like ages since you first met Kazuha, when he was just a spry young man onboard the crux. His hair was shorter, he still wore bandages over his arm to hide his injuries from escaping Inazuma.

Now, he lets his hair loose. He wears more Liyue-style clothing. His right hand – the one in your grasp, has healed. Though the physical pain has left, the scars remain.

“I miss my homeland,” Kazuha croaks. “I love what I have with you – I love our home. But a part of me feels forever trapped in Inazuma. Longing for it. I-” He shakes his head, speckles of crystal tears forming in his eyes. Your heart aches at the sight.

“It’s alright, Kazuha,” you wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back. “I can’t begin to understand what that feels like…but I can be here to help you.”

“I just fear-“ he chokes, gripping your shirt. “I fear I’ll never be able to see it again. I’ll never get to bring Haruko to see the cherry blossoms that bloom in spring, or let her feed the cats that roam the islands like wanderers.”

Though you want to, though every part of you wants to assure him he’ll see it, you can’t promise him that. He knows it as well.

You comb your fingers through his hair as his tears stain your shirt. “If that’s the case - If things never get better in our lifetime - then we will make the most of it. Nothing lasts forever. Inazuma will one day change.”

You pull his head from your shoulder to meet his eyes. They’re red and puffy. You rub your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away tear tracks.

“But no matter what, we’ll see it through together.”

Kazuha covers your hand with his, leaning into your touch. “Thank you, love. I am forever grateful that I get to spend my life with you.”

You rest your forehead against his, pressing forward just enough so your lips touch.

“Forever,” you murmur. “And then beyond where the wind lies.”

#genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #idk how to tag things #genshin impact x reader #kazuha imagines #kazuha scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #my writing

[thiswasinevitableid]

64. I didn’t know my ex moved so you find me curled up on the floor in front of your apartment door

Ot4, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Duck didn’t mean to fall asleep in front of her cave. But there was no one home and the rock in front of it is just the right temperature to coax him down into a nap in the spring sunshine.

“Um, can I help you?”

His nose tells him the voice belongs to another dragonborn before he opens his eyes. It’s just not the one he’s hoping for. Instead of blue scales and muscle, he finds blue eyes staring down at him while black and white scales glint in the afternoon light.

“Uh, I, uh, do you know the dragon who lives here?” He didn’t think she’d move on that fast.

“I am the dragon who lives here.” The other male adjusts the satchels on his shoulders, one laden with food and the other with books, “I moved in a week ago.”

“Well...fuck.” Duck slides off the rock with a groan, “sorry, didn’t know the place changed hands. Didn’t mean to, uh, crash on your front porch.”

“It’s okay. I was hoping to meet more of our kind here.” He writes a glyph on the door and it opens, “do you want to come in? I got some nice wine from town and, um” he scratches at the stone, “no one to share it with.”

“Sure.” Duck follows him through the familiar front hall and into the kitchen. The furniture is different, all clean lines and polished wood, and there’s new art on the walls. He reads the spines on the stack of history books on the table while his host pours them each a glass of wine.

“Thanks” he takes the goblet, “I’m uh, I’m Duck by the way. It’s a nickname.”

“Joseph.” The other dragon sits across from him, “I take your...ex lived here?”

“Yeah” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “we end things a month ago but, uh, I was missin her and I, uh, I, I, fuck, nevermind.”

Joseph sniffs the air, “surprise heat?”

Duck nods, “I was kinda hopin for, uh, for a pity fuck or somethin. Fuck, that sounds pathetic.” He rests his head in his hands.

“There’s no shame in wanting intimacy.”

“Guess not. Uh, enough about me, how’d you end up here?” He prays Joseph takes the hint.

“I travel around studying humans, trying to bring a greater understanding of them to our kind. My hope is it’ll help keep the peace, since we’re less likely to fear or attack things we understand. Kepler might be the place I settle; the town is a great mixture of dragon and human cultures.”

“So you just...study everythin they do?”

“Right now I’m focusing on technology. Hence the, um, the scars.”

“Oh shit” the white zigzags and bursts that Duck assumed were simply markings are, in fact, scars, “what happened?”

“Mostly minor accidents, like you’d get cooking or gardening. This one” he gestures to the white on his cheek, “is embarrassing; I was so engrossed in my research I didn’t notice the experiment I was running was about to go haywire.”

“Ouch.” He hazards a joke, “hate to see what your hoard is like, probably, uh, shock me.”

Joseph smiles, “I don’t really have one, it’s a pain to move it every time.”

“Not even a little pile?” Duck raises a brow; there’s a magpie-ish quality to the other dragon that suggests there’s a collection hiding somewhere.

A faint dusting of gold on his cheeks, “I do have a, um, a small stack of books.”

“Can I see?”

“Of course. This way.” He leads them to the master bedroom. A wave of unwelcome nostalgia hits Duck as he enters, and he’s about to excuse himself back to the kitchen when a giggle climbs up his throat.

“A small stack, huh?”

Joseph settles on the cushions at the center of three towering bookcases, each crammed full, “I don’t have that many. I once met a wyvern who had whole hills of books. I like them like this so I can actually find things.”

“Hate to say it Joe, but this is an honest to gods hoard.” Duck kneels near him.

“Joe....huh, I like it when you call me that. Normally I hate it. And it’s a library, not a hoard.”

“If you say so. Uh huh, what’s this?” He crawls to where a pile of puzzles toys and games is hidden between the bookcases, “seems like the makings of another ho--oh hell yeah” he grabs a box, “Minotaurs Riddle, I fuckin love this game. Haven’t played it in years, lent mine to a trio of centaurs and never got it back.”

“Do you want to play a few rounds? I, um, I don’t have anything urgent tonight but if you have things to do-”

“Nah, got all my shit taken care of early in case...uh, well, you know.” Humiliation at his earlier desperation rears its head.

Joseph drags a low table over, “Then it sounds like we could both use a night off.”

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, they locked in a stalemate, Duck scanning his cards for a way to break it. He’s never had this intense an opponent before and it’s so fucking fun.

“I play the hero's spear BUT” he flips a card facedown, “on my own chariot, which opens up the way for my chimera to attack.”

Joe’s eyes flick between his hand and the board, pupils no more than slits as he concentrates. Then he sets his cards all facedown, “I don’t have a counter-move, so you win.” His grin is fairytale perfect, “that was great! And now I know your method of play so I can beat you next time.”

“You wish.” Duck doesn’t mean to growl as deeply as he does.

“It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.” Joe boxes up the game without ever taking his eyes off Duck.

“If you say so. But if you break it” he curls his tail around to stroke black scales, “think I oughta get a prize.”

Joe’s responding click-growl is unfamiliar, could be anything from agreement to “leave me the fuck alone.” He starts to retract his tail only for Joe to close his claws around it.

“I think you should get one for your win tonight, too. You did come here in a, um, a certain state.”

“Ain’t you the polite one.” Duck shoves the table aside and prowls across the pillows, “offerin that stylish tail up for meWHOAH, fuck.” He laughs as Joe, lightning quick, lunges forward and traps him on his back.

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since you got here. Gods” he undoes the wrap at Duck’s waist with a hungry growl, “do you have any idea how hard it is to think strategically with all of this” he runs his palms up Duck’s chest, “on display. Once I’m done give your body the attention it deserves, then I’ll put my ass in the air for you.”

“You drive a hard bargain Joe, but I’ll take it.” He grins as the other dragon gropes his thighs.

“Good. Besides, this is a proven way of getting over heartbreak.”

“Think that theory might need a little more testin. So get down here and kiss me.”

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

“Interesting.” Joe taps the bottle with a claw as he studies the ship inside it, “you really don’t know how they do it?”

“No fuckin clue. I can build model ships outside bottles, but this? This is wild to me.”

“I wonder if we-” Joe raises his head, inhales, and breaks into a dazzling smile, “dinner’s here! You can come in Barclay, we’re in the sunroom.”

Footsteps on stone announce the cook, who Duck usually sees at Amnesty Lodge down in Kepler.

“Didn’t know y’all did delivery.”

Barclay sets a bag crammed with tins and bottles onto the table, “We don’t usually, but Joseph’s a special case.”

Duck spots the blush on his friend’s cheek, “Oh yeah?”

“He, uh, he lets me test new recipes on him?” Two pink patches bloom under Barclays' beard, “there’s a berry custard tart in there today.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Joe’s tail is subtly twitching, “do you want to stay a bit and eat?”

“I’d love to, but I gotta get back before the dinner rush.”

“Right, right, of course, oh, right, your tip” the dragon darts into his study, returns a moment later with a small purse of coins, “here you go, thank you so much it, I’ll be ready for our cooking lesson on Tuesday and, um, it’s always nice to see you.”

Barclay pockets the money, smiles softly, “you too, Joseph. Bye Duck, see you in town.”

Joe watches him go long after he’s out of sight. When he turns around with a sigh, Duck smirks.

“You got it bad, Joe.”

“I know.” He slumps down in a chair, “I think he feels the same way but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Coming out to a dragon’s lair and getting hit on, all while you’re at work? It would stress me out if I was human.”

“You pay him for those cooking lessons?”

“No. I, um, I guess I could ask him then but dragon/human relations are understudied outside of things like midnight weddings. I’m not even sure how something like sex would work, if it would work at all. The books I have on it are out of date and, honestly, most likely written by dragonborns who never had firsthand experience.”

Duck stands, circles the table to drape his arms over Joe’s shoulders and nose his neck, “You could still just ask. Learn what he likes instead of fussin over research.”

“You’re right. I’ll ask. Eventually. Maybe.”

He chuckles and nips a sensitive patch of scales, “It’s a start.”

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

Duck’s busy in the back garden when the chanting starts. It sounds enough like an angry mob that he draws the thicket of brambles across the door to be safe before heading for the second floor and the window to the front yard.

The crowd isn’t from Kepler, people there know he isn’t much for offerings or other forms of intervention into human affairs. He inherited his position from a true dragon who was once considered a forest and weather god. It took years for humans who came to understand that while he could help them identify what was killing their orchards or blighting their fields, he couldn’t summon rain or quash frosts.

Not only do the humans out front seem unaware of those facts, they’re constructing a convoluted, cobbled-together, ceremony. There are offerings of food, but the chants have something to do with slaking his deep hunger. Which is weird, because when you offer food to a dragon it’s meant as a gesture of kinship, not fear. The music doesn’t match either of those dynamics, the robes on the elders are white, which indicates surrender in war, and the incense they’re lighting is too heady; if he eats with it in the air, all he’ll taste is myrrh.

Wait, those are the bundles of incense humans used to burn during weddings. No one’s held a midnight wedding in decades. And holding one when it’s not yet sunset is really baffling. He’s about to write it off as yet more cultural miscommunication when two men drag a bound figure, all dressed in black, out from the crowd and drop it near the door.

“Fuck.” He tromps down the stairs, peers through the thicket for a closer look. The figure is a young man, dirtied silver hair tangled across his face and shattered red spectacles on his nose. His ankles and wrists are tied, and when he tries to scoot back from the cave entrance the crowd jeers. The man looks sluggishly between the crowd and the cave. Resigned, he crawls Duck’s way.

The dragon sets a hand on the thicket to will it away and tell everyone to get lost when he scents blood beneath the incense. Members of the crowd are getting agitated, suggesting they light a pyre to hurry the process along. That’s not even remotely how a midnight wedding works, and were Duck a certain other dragon he might tell them that. Instead, he makes a gap at the bottom of the thicket, grabs an enchanted rope from his work closet, and whips it through the opening. Two seconds later he has a cheering crowd outside his house and a petrified sacrifice inside it.

He kneels, undoing his rope and the bonds. The humans brown eyes lock onto his claws.

“Please. Please just make it quick.” His voice is raw, his pleas continuous, but he doesn’t pull back when Duck cups his chin and touches his forehead.

“Fuck, you’re burnin up. Your eyes a pretty glassy too, wonder if-”

“Drugged. To keep me from running or fighting. Not like they needed to. They, they did enough before that.” He hiccups and Duck smells exactly what plants they put into the mixture. They’re meant to make the human body more pliant. More receptive.

Fuckers.

“Okay” Duck keeps his voice soft, “here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna take you somewhere you can lie down and look you over. Once you’re patched up, you can rest.”

He nods as Duck scoops him into his arms, “Need my strength.”

“Yeah, but not for, uh, for what you think.” He nudges the light with his elbow, illuminating the rumpled green of his bed. When he sets the human down on it, he tucks his arms across his chest.

“Can you get your shirt off for me?”

The man reaches one skinny arm under his back, whaps it about, then shakes his head. Duck eases him upright, let’s him slump forward onto his shoulder why he undoes the eyehooks and buttons. The sight that awaits him is grim.

“Fuck, what’d they have against you?” He counts gashes from four different instruments intermingled with bruises in every color.

“Outsider. Came looking for work. Angered the wrong person.”

“They get you on your legs too?”

A weaks nod.

“I’m gonna have to slice the pants off; got a bad feelin I might re-open wounds if I try to pull ‘em free.” He runs a clawtip up the outside of one leg; the human grips him, afraid, though when he runs a thumb soothingly up a newly-bare spot, he sighs happily. Duck’s instinct is right; there are half-healed wounds now oozing blood thanks to the man being tossed about. He instructs the human to lay on his belly, fetches his bandages and disinfectant from the bathroom, and starts water for the tea that will clear the potion from his system.

When he starts on the wounds on his back the human whimpers, weakly clutching the blanket.

“Shhh, it’s okay sweet thing. Know it hurts, but you’ll feel better soon.” He runs the claws of his free hand through silver hair, undoing tangles as he goes. He is sweet; long legs and wiry arms, a face that’s odd but impossible to look away from. Duck wishes he were a worse dragon than he is; he could slip his threadbare underwear down and relieve the effects of the potion another way. Instead he patches and cleans, tips tea between parched lips, and finds one of his smaller robes to protect the skinny frame from falls oncoming chill. When he’s done, the young man is asleep. So he draws the blankets up and goes to sleep in the garden.

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

His body feels like it’s been through a wine press. No doubt a result of the dragon “marrying him.”

No, wait. He’d taken him to bed, run his claws tenderly through his hair, but then he’d tended his injuries and let him sleep unmolested. Indrid rubs his forehead, wishing his foresight hadn’t been so weakened by his weeks in jail; it would be nice to know if this is a sign the dragon is harmless or if he just prefers his food uninfected.

The bedroom door slides open and a scaly figure walks in, nose firmly in a book. It’s not the same dragon as yesterday; this one is sleek, with midnight scales and long, narrow horns. The one who tended him was bulkier, with scales like a forest viewed from above, dozens of greens and golds melding together. His horns were shorter, Indrid remembers because in his fevered state he wanted to rub them. They looked soothing to touch.

“Oh, good morning.” The dragon closes his book, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just came in for some scale oil and I’ll be out of your hair.” He grabs a purple bottle from a shelf.

“Wait, please.” Indrid struggles to sit up, “can, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We were sort of hoping you could enlighten us. From Duck’s description, your delivery was so garbled he couldn’t figure out what they wanted. Or, um, it was clear what they wanted done to you, but not why it should be or why they chose him.”

Indrid’s about to answer when a second voice drawls, “Joe, you better not be pesterin our guest with questions.”

The black dragon looks over his shoulder into the hall with a sly grin, “He asked me first.”

“Uh huh, a likely story.” The green dragon, Duck, steps into the room, pausing to kiss Joseph’s cheek. Oh gods, Indrid understands now; he wasn’t fucked or eaten yesterday because Duck was waiting to share him.

“Since you’re up we can--whoa, whoa what’s wrong?” Duck kneels by the bed as Indrid tries to scramble backwards.

Joseph sets his book and bottle down, “You still think you’re dinner, don’t you?”

“Wh-why shouldn’t I?” Indrid pulls the blanket up to shield himself.

“For starters, we don’t eat humans. And we sure as hells don’t fuck ‘em without them bein’ real eager. Even then, some of us stall.” Duck gives Joe a pointed look, “beyond that, someone dropped you here after torturin you. You need lookin after more than anything.”

“We should get these fixed too” Joseph picks up his shattered glasses, “I might have what we need in my workshop, or we could go into Kepler-”

“We’re near Kepler? Thank the gods.” Indrid slumps against the wall, “It was the last place I stopped before things went south. I should have just stayed there. Instead I got it into my head to keep travelling, find an enchanter to train under and got...well, you saw.”

Duck carefully sits on the bed, as far from Indrid as possible, “Yeah, I did. I promise, nothin like that’s ever gonna happen to you again.”

“And if you’re interested in learning magic, most dragons have some. I’d be happy to share what I know if you’re willing to assist in my research.”

“That means makin sure he don’t fall asleep too close to his experiments.”

Indrid has no idea what those experiments might be, but he decides he’s very willing to find out.

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

Voices echo from the back garden, so Barclay curves left instead of going to the front of Duck’s home. Joseph asked him to bring his next few meals here since he’s helping Duck with an “unexpected house guest.”

He’s anticipating another dragon, almost drops his cargo when he sees how wrong he is.

“Indrid?”

“Barclay! I, when Joseph mentioned we were getting dinner from town I hoped it was the Lodge but seeing you is better still.” The other man is in a thick sweater and is wearing one of Duck’s wraps as a makeshift skirt, “I’d get up to hug you but I’m a bit weak at the moment.”

“I got you.” He sets the bags down and leans in for an embrace.

“I’m glad you fellas know each other.”

Barclay remembers burying his fingers in fine, silver hair while Indrid kissed him and worked his clever fingers inside him, promising he’d make him feel wonderful. He did. Every time.

“Yeah.” He blushes, spots Joseph registering this information and--knowing him--storing it away for later.

He was already making frequent trips to see the dragons, but as weeks give way to months he finds that whenever he’s not working, his feet ache to wander up into the hills.

Tonight, he and Joseph made dinner for the four of them (Indrid’s taken up residence in Duck’s home, and the dragon seems deeply uninterested in making him move). The dragons are on dish duty, so he and Indrid wander back to the library where Joseph has lit a fire.

“You really ought to tell him how you feel.”

“Is it that obvious?” Barclay fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist.

“Very. Then again, I know what desire looks like on you.” Indrid bumps their shoulders together playfully.

“But he’s, uh, he’s got Duck. He wouldn’t want a human, no matter how much we like each other.”

Indrid wordlessly moves to the bookshelves, smile widening as he finds a tome bound in blue leather and brings it back to the rug, “I found this when I was fetching books for him the other day.”

“Holy fuck” Barclay stares at the drawings, faded and labeled with draconic runes but undeniably that of a dragonborn fucking the living hells out of a very happy knight.

“I believe it tells the story of a knight who agrees to take a fair maiden's place as an offering and ends up enjoying his new station in life. It’s clearly been read often, though the anatomy is off in places.” He indicates a drawing in which it’s obvious the human doesn’t have balls to go with his enormous cock.

Barclay wants to say something witty, but all he can think about is gripping Joseph’s horns while he twines his tongue around Barclay’s cock.

“Yes, it’s giving me ideas too.” In the firelight, Indrid’s uncovered, brown eyes are almost red.

“Yeah?” Barclay sets a hand on his knee, “I’m no dragon but, uh-”

Indrid leans in, kissing him gently, “While dragons have their appeal, you are what I want right now.”

Barclay lets himself be pulled to the ground and is suddenly very glad dinner required so many dishes.

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

“I didn’t realize you’d be taking notes while you did this.” Indrid smiles, amused, as Joseph scribbles something at the top of a fresh page. They’re heading down the hall in Duck’s home, Indrid having agreed to be the subject of a very exciting day of research.

“I’m not. Not, not that I’m uninterested but, um, since I need to be able to observe everything, Duck will be the one actually fucking you.”

Indrid stops dead, heart fluttering in his chest, “He...is he just doing this as a favor to you?”

Joseph smiles, shakes his head, and Indrid understands that he was reading all the times Duck looked him over with those green eyes correctly.

They reach the bedroom and step across the threshold wearing twin expressions of confusion; Duck forgoes nesting in favor of a bed, but the mattress, a dozen blankets, and every pillow in the house are now on the floor, the dragon busily arranging and rearranging them. Then he sniffs the air and turns, pinning Indrid to the spot with a toothy grin.

“Why the nest?” Joseph drags a chair across the floor and positions it between the pillows and the fireplace.

“Dunno, ever since you told me that today was the day, I’ve had the itch to build one. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable, sweet thing.” Duck holds out his hand and Indrid reaches for it.

“Not yet. Indrid, please undress so I can make some notes.”

“You’re killin me here Joe.” Duck growls as Indrid moves towards the chair, peeling off layers until he’s naked. Joseph scribbles some notes. Indrid would feel like a scientific specimen were it not for the way the pupils in those blue eyes dilate each time he looks at him.

“I just need some measurements.” He pulls a ruler from the pocket of the notebook and kneels down, gingerly taking Indrid’s cock in his palm.

“I, I should mention that is generally frowned upon when it’s just humans.” Indrid squirms as hot breath skates up the sensitive skin.

“Humans are touchy about size.” Duck adds, settling his claws on Indrid’s hips from behind. He’s good foot and a half taller than the human, which always makes Indrid feels safe in his embrace; those have been more frequent these last few weeks, Indrid using the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with the living furnace whose home he shares.

“Hmmm, if they have less genital variation than dragons, I could see how size would become the point of competition.”

“Variation?”

“Dragons got all kinds of set-ups” Duck grinds against Indrid’s ass, “Joe and I happen to have the same kind, where we can lay in someone and get, uh, laid in if we want.”

“Laying?” Indrid squeaks, “I, I’m not opposed but I’m not prepared either.”

“Nah, won’t do none of that today.” Duck blows hot breath down the back of his neck, “if you want, we can try some other time. Can even let Joe take notes. And if he’s good” Duck rests his chin atop Indrid’s head and looks down, “I’ll even save some for him.”

Joseph’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and for an instant Indrid expects to be sandwiched between two dragons, which sounds deliciously warm. Then Joseph collects himself, “Yes. I’d, um, I’d like that. But for now, I need one more measurement” his tongue flicks the air near the head of Indrid’s cock, “may I?”

“Please. Ohhhhhhhyes” He moans as Joseph licks his shaft, “that’s lovely, so veryOHgods” he bucks his hips as Duck digs his claws into the meat of his thighs.

“That’s very helpful, Duck, he’s getting wonderfully hard.”

“I aim to please. Now hurry up before I start fuckin him here and fuck up your data.”

“Just a second..there, done. Duck, please kneel, Indrid do the same but keep facing me.”

“Yessir.” Duck pulls them both to the floor. Claws spread his ass open and the tip of one pokes the base of the plug he put in earlier, “heh, you let Joe help you with this?”

“N-no” Indrid cranes his neck back for a kiss.

“I didn’t want to overstep.” Joseph replies matter-of-factly.

Indrid runs his mouth along Duck’s jaw, “next time I’ll make him warm me up with his tongue before putting it in.”

A moan from the chair as Duck rumbles, “good thinkin, he’s fuckin incredible with his tongue. But you better let me watch.”

“Of course.”

Fabric shifts behind him and then Duck’s wrap falls to the floor. The plug joins it and then a solid, ridged cock is teasing his cheeks.

“You ready, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” Indrid pushes his ass back, whines when only the first half-inch is pushed in.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the whole thing. Just gotta go slow, don’t wanna hurt my mate.” Duck pauses, “huh, sorry, that just came out.”

“I don’t mind.” Indrid sets his hands on top of the dragon’s.

“Fascinating.” Joseph scribbles more notes.

“You like the idea of bein my mate?” The question is shy, Duck hiding his face in Indrid’s neck.

“So very much. You make me so happy, Duck, you take such good care of meEEEoh, oh I see.” He snickers as Duck thrusts shallowly and laps at his throat, “you like being a good mate, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanted to, to do this months ago, wanted, when they gave you to me I wanted to climb into bed with you, fuck you sweet and slow and tell you nothin was gonna hurt you now, that you were all mine, keep this cute little body safe under the covers. Under me.” He thrusts several inches at once and Indrid moans, bounces in his lap in search of more, Duck click-growling each time he pushes down.

“Please, please, I want it all, Duck, pleasepleaseAH, AHhnnnngods” he grabs Duck’s arms as they wrap around him, the dragon bottoming out with a groan.

“Holy shit.” Joseph stares at them, and Indrid follows his gaze down to his lower belly, where the outline of Duck’s cock is unmistakable.

“Oh I like that a great deal.” He whispers, biting his lip as the outline slowly moves.

“Me too. Fuck, fuckin love how small you are, you barely fit on my dick and you’re still beggin for it.”

“How could I not?” Indrid purrs, relaxing against Duck’s chest, “this is going to sound very silly, sweetheart, but please, please” he tips his head up to kiss Duck’s chin, “take me?”

A tender, deep purr, then “anythin’ you want, sugar.”

Indrid lets his mouth fall open, spilling moans across the floor as Duck fucks him with abandon. It’s so much, almost too much, but it’s all he wants, to be taken and cared for by the magnificent, loving creature behind him.

The stretch and drag of Duck inside him is so intense he barely registers his own orgasm, though he cums hard enough to splatter some on Joseph’s leg. Then he’s holding on and whimpering as Duck spills into him, hotter than a human and so plentiful it drips down his thighs before the dragon even pulls out.

“Got what you need?” Duck pants, still holding Indrid to him.

“Yes.” Joseph is purring, gaze drinking in the two of them.

“Good. C’mon, sweet thing, let’s do see how my nest holds up to me mating the fuck outta you.”

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

Duck said it was fine to use the glyph to come in without knocking, so that’s what Barclay does. He sets the cake he made in the kitchen, wanders down the hall in search of the others. They weren’t at Joseph’s, so odds are good they’re here. Muffled voices direct him towards the bedroom, but when he arrives his libido kicks all sensible thoughts from his mind.

There’s a giant mound of cushions on the floor, at the middle of which he can see Duck’s tail, the spines of his back and, occasionally, his head. Indrid’s feet and calves are just visible, so limp he’d worry he was asleep except for the little moans he knows quite well. And sitting by the fire, watching the scene with an obvious tent in his lap, is Joseph.

Two scales snouts snap up into the air. Duck notices him, whispers something to Indrid, who waves and then pulls the dragon back down. The same can not be said for Joseph, who is licking his lips like he’s just seen a gourmet meal.

Barclay smirks, moves to the chair but stays standing, stroking one horn as he does, “I’m not interrupting research, am I?”

“Um” Joseph’s cheeks go golden, “yes and no. I, I really was making notes at first but for the last hour it’s been, um, hard to focus.”

“Wonder why. Wait, holy fuck, they’ve been doing this for an hour?”

“One hour and twenty-four minutes.”

“Knew Indrid had stamina but that’s impressive. Uh” he trails a finger up Joseph’s leg, scales as smooth as he’d hoped, “how long have you been dealing with this?”

“Most of that time.” Joseph’s breath catches charmingly as Barclay straddles him.

“Babe” he kisses the warm column of his neck, stopping to pay special attention to each scar, “I know you’re dedicated to your work, but I’m pretty sure they’d let you join them.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“My polite dragon” Barclay nuzzles his cheek, “you still deserve to be taken care of, you know that, right?”

Joseph nods, tips his head to the side so Barclay can nibble his throat while undoing his wrap. What he finds is spectacular; a pointed cock with circular ridges and, beneath it, a slit just begging for his tongue to tease it. But since he’s not done kissing him yet, he adjusts his balance so he can close one around the shaft and slide the fingers of the other into the slit.

The dragon makes a series of hurried clicks and growls, throwing his arms around him and kissing his face, “Barclay, you, you’re so wonderful, I never thought you’d want this, ohgoodgods.”

“I do, babe. I wanna know what my whip-smart, handsome dragon likes, wanna make you come apart” He squeezes lightly and Joseph growls.

“I did not wait this long to cum on you while you’re clothed.” Clawed hands grip his ass as Joseph stands and carries him to the nest on the floor, dropping him into it with uncharacteristic carelessness. Which he then remedies by methodically removing Barclays clothes and folding them into a pile.

“Mmmm, hello dearest.” Indrid turns his head to kiss him as Joseph rolls him to face the other two.

“Hey. Gotta say, you look really good like this.”

“Damn right he does.” Duck’s hips stutter and Indrid squirms happily, “heh, shoulda known Joe would pick that for you. He’s got a thing for thick thighs.”

“Huh? OH! Ohfuckyeah.” He moans as Joseph manhandles him to thrust his cock between his thighs. Teeth nip his neck as golden pre-cum streaks his skin. The scales of his cock rub wonderfully on the base of Barclays own, and soon he’s so hard he’s ready to promise Joseph anything he wants for the chance to cum.

Cool, human fingers encircle his shaft. Indrid grins, “I may not be able to move much, but Joseph seems to be more than capable of getting you to fuck my fist.”

Barclay dips his head forward with a groan to kiss his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about movin’” Duck grunts, tongue darting out to Indrid’s cheek, “all you gotta do is lay here and take my cum like a good little mate whenever I say.”

“Yes, yes, oh goodness Duck please, take me, use meAHnnnnn” a whimper “so much.”

“Shhh, s’okay sweet thing, I’m almost done.”

Joseph purrs in his ear, “cum for me, big guy, cum for me while I coat your thighs and, gods, and Duck breeds your boyfriend into next week.”

“Fuuuuck.” Barclay spills helplessly into Indrid’s hand, holds tight to his shoulder and Joseph’s right arm as the dragon cums between his legs. There’s a muffled curse and an “eep” from beside him, then Duck rolls off Indrid and begins licking the humans cum from his stomach.

“I, I think you built a very sturdy nest.” Joseph curls his body around Barclay and drapes his tail over Indrid’s legs to brush Duck’s.

“Thanks, handsome.”

“I also think living with Indrid for months has made your mind assign him the position of partner, hence the nesting.”

“Makes sense.” Indrid murmurs.

“And--oh” Joseph sighs as Barclay kisses him.

“Promise you can share more theories later, babe. Right now, how about napping with your boyfriends?”

Joseph purrs deeper as they all cuddle closer, “I like the sound of that.”

#OT4: Government and their Cryptid Boyfriends #indrid cold/ duck newton #duck newton/agent stern #indrid cold/agent stern #agent stern/ barclay #sternclay #indruck #dragon au #terato

[butmakeitgayblog]

Hello

We need another sneak peek *PLEASEEEEEE *😀

You know how much we love the demon give us some mercy *pleaseeeeeeeeee *

Have a nice day please..

Ps : love your ff dude

I know you weren't trying to be rude, I do. So far I've been really fucking lucky in not having any legit rude anons or readers. But I just... sometimes it can start to feel like I'm this work horse, ya know? And sometimes things are like "... Hey 😔, I know it's taking a while but ya coulda asked a little more politely here man I work hard on this stuff." When someone post a 1k snippet you have to realize that represents a couple hours of work they put in instead of doing other things because they want to make these stories great for readers. So just, yeah. Please keep that in mind. But yes, here's a little snippet but nO MORE I GOTTA FINISH THIS DAMN THING 😩

////////////

She had this. 

Raven was right. It was just a friendly dinner. 

A friendly dinner where Clarke could possibly see what it might feel like to live out the mortifying ordeal of being seen as half of a… something. 

A something with Lexa. 

Clarke pushed the thought down as she twisted the handle, taking a minute to herself to breath and calm her nerves.

Which was all shot to shit the second the door swung open. 

"Hey, gorgeous."

The smirk that greeted her sent a flutter through Clarke's belly, her eyes doing a quick route down the length of Lexa's body. Gone was the skirt and skin tight blouse from earlier, all vestiges of the office wiped clean.

The usually wild mane of brunette was pulled back in a ponytail, an exquisitely messy one that hung over her shoulder and draped across the curve of a sharp collarbone. Clarke's gaze wandered along the waterfall of it, sliding to the cleavage that peeked out from the unbuttoned dip of a low-cut navy Henley. Her leather jacket stopped just shy of distressed jeans that clung to her thighs, calves, and ankles and stretched down to a smart looking pair of black boots. 

Clarke shook her head at the deeply pleased look painted across Lexa's face.

"How did I not foresee you managing to get yourself invited here?"

Lexa's smile slipped into a frown, head tipping to the side as she spoke. "... You didn't know I was coming?"

"No," Clarke sighed. "I was not made aware until about five minutes ago. We've been set up."

"Ah," Lexa breathed in understanding, shuffling awkwardly on her feet on the front stoop. "I should've known when Raven told me to hurry up. The texts felt very urgent."

"Don't know how you don't know this by now, but you can never trust Raven. And I'm saying that as someone who also fell into this trap."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I can't uninvite you from someone else's house, Lex."

"That's not what I asked," Lexa murmured, throat bobbing with a swallow as her eyes strayed to her shoes.

Clarke licked her lips. Thumped the door twice with her thumb. Weighed the conversation from the kitchen that still felt fresh on her tongue. 

"You really weren't in on this?"

"I would tell you if I had been. She just texted and invited me. Said it was dull with just the three," Lexa shrugged. "Felt rude to say no."

"I'm sure that was the reason," Clarke snorted, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. "Not at all like you wanted to spend the evening with me or anything."

"Well you already know how I would've preferred tonight to go."

Clarke's smile weakened when Lexa wagged a devilish brow. 

Right. 

Sex. 

There it was. Why she hadn't wanted to do this to begin with. Not this way. Had questioned ever even fucking confronting the jumbled mess of thoughts that had been churning in her skull for the past few days. Because she'd set up these boundaries and didn't know why she'd begun questioning them to begin with. 

Something in her face must've given her away. A glimpse of her hesitance. The stab of something sharp and unpleasant at Lexa's admittedly innocent words sobering the smirk on Lexa's face. 

Lexa stepped in closer, one foot on the threshold, the other firmly staying outside. "I can go if you want me to," she said so quietly Clarke wouldn't have heard if she weren't that close. Wouldn't have seen the sparkle in Lexa's eyes from the porch light above them. "But I'd like to stay. If you want… You know I'll take any time I can get with you."

Never mind.

That was why she'd been having those jumbled mess of thoughts. 

It sent her stomach flipping and chest aching with something else entirely. Clarke smiled more genuinely, throwing in a cursory roll of her eyes for good measure. "At least you're getting better at being smooth."

"Just like making you smile, gorgeous."

"Mhm… in that case, I guess you can stay."

"Lucky me… So are you gonna invite me in now?" Lexa asked, the silky hum of her voice causing Clarke to sway a bit on her feet as Lexa lifted her hand to reveal a 6-pack of imported beer. "I came bearing libations as peace offering. Just on the off chance you were a little… cranky. For whatever reason."

Clarke eyed the bright label as she reached out to grab a fistful of Lexa's shirt, stepping aside to make room as she yanked Lexa inside and shut the door. "How did you know what beer I like? You're a wine girl."

"I asked Raven," Lexa said as she set down the case and shrugged out of her coat. "She's a very helpful secretary… Sometimes."

"She's a goddamn schemer," Clarke corrected with a grunt as she shot a glare in the direction of the kitchen. 

"Don't be mad," Lexa soothed and hung up her coat on the wall before sliding back into Clarke's space.

Her hands settled low on Clarke's waist, thumbs brushing over the swells of her hip bones that peeked out from beneath her shirt. 

Clarke felt a rush of heat flare through her as Lexa bent down and kissed her. Kissed her slow, and full, with the careless intensity that left Clarke spinning. That languidness Clarke had been struggling so hard to describe. She felt a moan against her mouth as Lexa pulled back with a smile. Barely reigning in a pleased smile of her own, Clarke worked to keep a straight face as she poked a finger to the flat of Lexa's chest.

"Hello to you too, handsy."

"What?" Lexa whispered, eyes twinkling in the dim light filtering from the doorway a few feet away. 

"We're in Raven's front hall."

"And? I don't see anyone else with us."

"Ya can't just cop a feel every single time someone isn't looking."

"'Cop a feel?' You mean like this?"

Clarke sucked in a breath as Lexa surged forward again, the length of her body pressing along Clarke's front as hands wrapped around her backside and squeezed.

"Lex--" 

"Lexa, hey, you made it!"

A reproachful yelp died in Clarke's throat as the new voice called from around the corner, her mind working just fast enough to thrust her hips forward to send Lexa a few stumbling steps back. 

Clarke shot up off the wall and turned as Raven emerged from the kitchen, an inviting smile on her lips even as sharp eyes slid between the two.

"Here I am," Lexa said without missing a beat, bending down to retrieve the all-but-forgotten drinks. "Complete with alcoholic party favors."

"Oooo. A woman after my own heart," Raven leered as she drew even, taking the pack from Lexa's hand and bussing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm gonna go pop these in the fridge, but make yourself at home. Clarke knows where everything is if you want anything. And dinner should be done any minute. Sound good?"

Lexa nodded as Raven flashed her another smile and turned to leave, Clarke barely resisting the urge to throw a middle finger up when Raven mouthed a silent 'lock it down, bitch' on her way out. 

"Okay, new rules," Clarke sighed as she tugged Lexa by the elbow down the hall. "Since apparently my very well thought out guidelines for us around people are apparently useless, let's just get through tonight unscathed, please? Yes, obviously Raven knows we're…"

"... Fucking?"

"Lexa."

"Friendly fucking."

"This is gonna be a disaster," Clarke mumbled to herself, reaching up to rub at her temples. "Yes, Raven knows. Yes, I'm okay with it. Just… please try to at least keep your hands in appropriate places. And no offering up details about… this. Us. I know you think it's hilarious to embarrass me to the point of wanting to run screaming from any given room, but in reality, Raven wouldn't let me live it down for weeks. So. Behave... Behave-ish. Aim for like a three on a scale of one to... you."

"I promise, gorgeous, don't worry," Lexa whispered, leaning in to nuzzle a spot beneath Clarke's ear as they rounded the corner into the front room. "I'll be such a good girl for you."

"Jesus Christ, Lex."

Quickly pulling back, Lexa shot her a devious smile, lip firmly planted between her teeth despite Clarke's shove to her shoulder. A throat clearing stifled the flustered rebuke that teetered on Clarke's tongue as the crack of a book closing sounded through the room.

"Sorry, I would've met you out there, but Raven said to give you a minute," Anya said airily as she tossed the book in her hands onto the table with a thunk and turned. "I'm Anya, Raven's…"

Anya's words seemed to die in her throat as she ground to a halt halfway around the far end of the couch. 

Clarke watched as the bored set of her eyes sharpened. Widened. 

A paleness slunk over her features as Anya stared at the woman at Clarke's side, Clarke's brow furrowing as she glanced between the startled look of her friend's wife and the relaxed grin on Lexa's face.

Throat bobbing through a few dry swallows, Anya's ribs expanded and released as she breathed in deeply. 

"You're Raven's boss?"

Lexa gave a quiet chuckle, Clarke's heart jumping at the dark timbre of its sound. 

"Guilty as charged."

//////////////

#anon #demon!lexa

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 2

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

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

TW: abuse, language, blood, sexual themes, harassment

The soldiers around me were scrambling, confused. I missed this, I admitted to myself.

G.I. – Flag, Boss Lady had called him – stood, mouth agape, still pointlessly aiming his silly gun, and I couldn’t help myself. I quietly snuck up behind his tall frame, got on my toes, and whispered.

“Cat got your tongue?”.

He quickly spun around, rage in his eyes, and I jumped back, as he struck towards the direction of my voice. His hand swiped at my midsection, fingers reaching the cut on my stomach. He felt it, and I moved backwards quietly, still concentrating on keeping up the mirage, through the pain. Looking at his fingers, he saw my blood on them.

“Goggles!”, he yelled. The Tweedles, and the soldiers storming out of the vans, put on some weird looking glasses. Flag put on his own, and turned towards me, looking straight into my face.

“There you are”, he smiled. Panicking, I ran. I could hear voices behind me, yelling at me to stop. Confusion hit me, as I didn’t hear any gunfire; but fear won me over, so without hesitation, I kept going.

Narrowly avoiding being grabbed by a Tweedle, I scaled the hood of one of their vans, stomping across the roof, and jumped onto the ground behind it.

“She’s outside my 30 foot range”, a voice behind me shouted, as another closer voice answered; “I still got her in sight”.

How are they seeing me?, I questioned myself, realizing their googles must have some temperature device connected to them. They must have gotten those from the Bat. Fuck, I thought. I just had to stay far enough away from them, so that my projection could blend in with the surroundings.

Knocking over a trash can, I sped down the sidewalk. Behind me I heard Flags voice.

“I got her. 20 feet ahead!”, he thundered, running impossibly fast, closing up on me.

I gotta quit smoking, I thought, feeling my heart desperately pump blood and oxygen through my system; keeping me moving, but also keeping up my mirage. I knew I wouldn’t last forever. I’d run out of energy too soon, having to keep up speed and invisibility.

Turning around another corner, I was greeted by a busy street, full of taxicabs and trucks. As it was after midnight, most normal people had gone inside, and were now sleeping behind their rolled down curtains. Had they been looking outside, they’d see a group of soldiers, clad in grey, storming down the street, machineguns lifted, aiming at someone who wasn’t there. I couldn’t help but see the humor in the scene.

Flag was gaining on me, his men following close behind. The sidewalk was cleared of people, except for the occasional lady of the night, offering her service to the cabdrivers. I ran into the street, and almost got hit by a truck whose driver couldn’t see me.

“Shit, she ran into traffic”, Flag yelled. “Spread out! 3 o’clock, 15 feet”. I wanted to smash his stupid glasses into his handsome face.

Crossing the street, I turned, and ran down an alley. My chest heaved, and I had a metallic taste in my mouth. It was a dead end. I was greeted by a graffitied wall, displaying the image of a large grinning mouth, with golden teeth. “Ha Ha Ha” was written in bold script underneath it. This was Clown territory, and for a hot second I didn’t know whether to be more worried about that, than the soldiers behind me.

“Just stop, Chess!”, Flag called behind me. “You have nowhere to run. Just come with us. Now”. His gun raised, he stalked towards me, an angry sneer on his face.

In a corner of the alley, I saw an old dumpster, under a fire escape. “Don’t even think about it”, Flag said, voice calm.

My energy was almost gone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make the jump, if I had to keep up the mirage. I allowed my body to reappear to him.

“I’m not going with you, Joe”, I said with a shaking voice.

“It’s Flag. Colonel Rick Flag. We’re not here to hurt you, but I will shoot, if you take another step”.

“No you won’t”, I said, and ran for the dumpster. I heard a gunshot, and felt the wind from the bullet graze past my head. I jumped onto the dumpster, bended my knees, and sprang upwards, grabbing at the ladder above. I almost reached it, but fell short a few inches, fingertips lightly touching the bottom of the ladder for a millisecond; before I fell back towards the ground, landing hard on my side. Pain shot through my hip, and not a second later; he was on me.

I screamed, growled and hissed, as he pinned my body down.

“Relax, kitten. Just stop”, he said, holding my wrists above my head, and intertwining his legs with mine, holding them in a painful position; worsening the pain in my hip.

“Get of me”, I shrieked. “Let me go. You’re hurting me!”.

I twisted my torso, forcing him to reposition his legs, and lock around mine. He drew my right arm down, and behind me, then forcing it upwards. His other arm locked around my torso, and I used my – now free – left hand, to claw at his face behind me, getting a hold of his hair.

There we were, wrestling in a weird bearhug; as his hips grinded forward, his groin meeting my backside.

“You’re enjoying this, you pervert”, I hissed.

“You wish”, he answered, and forced my right arm further upward, drawing another scream from me.

I made a last desperate attempt to break free, knocking my head backwards, aiming for his nose, but only meeting air; as his head was moved to the side.

“Give. Up.”. His voice was cold and determined.

He repositioned his body, one strong arm around my torso, holding both my arms in place in front of me.

“Get the tranq’”, he called, as a Tweedle came running towards us, with what looked like a piercing gun. I began to shake, not liking where this was heading. Flag grabbed the gun, held it to my neck, and pulled the trigger.

“Just sleep, now”.

Suddenly the world started to blur. I opened my mouth, but not a sound came out of it. I blinked once, but immediately regretted it, as opening my eyelids again was near impossible.

Behind me, I felt Flag loosening his grip on me. “That’s it”, his voice sounded, from far away. I felt his hand sliding down my side, then moving towards my stomach. Finally, opening my eyes, I looked down, head spinning; as he slid his hand down the front of my waistband. Strangely enjoying his touch, I was weirdly disappointed, when his hand moved up again, pulling out the money clip from before. “Get this back to the man at the club”, his faraway voice said.

He let go of me, and I rolled onto my back, breathing slowly. “Tease”, I chuckled at him. The last thing I saw, was him sending me a crooked smile. Then everything went black.

---

Everything after that happened in glimpses. My body was lifted from the ground, and placed in a truck.

I must have been out of it, because the next thing I remembered was my ears popping, and a sharp pain from a needle, being forced through my skin, stitching up the bleeding gash on my belly. I heard helicopter sounds, and felt the weird weightless emotion, of being lifted into the air, and flown; somewhere.

Next it was another vehicle, bumping down a road full of holes. I gasped from the pain in my hip and stomach, and tried to move, but my wrists were firmly held in place by cuffs, attached to the gurney I was laying on. Black again.

Sounds of gates. The smell of wet dirt. Something or someone growling. An accented voice yelling “We got a new toy, mates”. The smell of burning wood. Loud giggles from a voice I knew I’d heard before.

I finally came to, as my body was unceremoniously discarded on a hard floor. I opened my eyes, Examining the room, eyes reaching the door. Catching my breath, I tried to reach for it.

In the door opening stood the woman from the van in the alley, next to Flag, who’s eyes – for the first time – would not meet mine.

“Welcome to Belle Reve”, the woman said. “Once you’ve settled in, and come to your senses, we’ll be back to talk to you”.

I opened my mouth, and tilted my head, trying desperately to come up with a clever answer, but she interrupted my blurry train of thought.

“Y/N. I know you won’t believe me, but this is for the best. Welcome to the first day of your new life”.

The door slammed, and I heard them walking away.

I screamed. I banged the door. I pleaded. I called the people outside every profanity I knew. But it was no use, and I knew it. They’d caught me, and I wasn’t going anywhere for the foreseeable future.

Looking around the room, I saw that it was more prison cell, than hotel accommodation. In one corner there was a hole in the floor, with what was left of a toilet roll next to it. There were no windows, and the only thing resembling a bed, was a thin foam mattress, covered by a smelly blanket.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and it was pitch black.

“Hi, honey”, a voice called. “Look up. See that tiny red dot in the ceiling?”. I did. “That’s me. My name is Griggs, but you can call me Captain. All my best friends do; and, oh, we’re gonna be bffs in no time”. The snarling voice cackled, and then died out.

I was alone.

---

I don’t know how long I screamed, but my throat hurt, and after a while, my voice was hoarse and disappearing

I counted seconds, but lost track, I decided to feel my way around the room.

A scratch and a howl from the speaker next to the red dot interrupted me.

“Careful, sweetheart. We didn’t have time to cat-proof the room for you. There might be some exposed wires on the floor. Old buildings, you’ll understand”.

I crawled to the mattress, curling up in a seated position on it.

“It’s funny, I thought cats could see in the dark”, Griggs voice said. “Here’s the deal. I know you can make it so we can’t see you, so I decided to make it so that you can’t see anything”. I could hear him smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get three square meals a day, and I’ll be watching you through this fancy thermal camera Waller gave me, that makes it so I can make sure you’re perfectly safe”. He was leering at me. I could hear it. “I’ll be looking, or some of my guys here will. You’ll never be alone. Whatever you do, we’re here, keeping you company”.

My body was quivering. A small hatch in the bottom of the door opened, and someone slid a small box into the room.

“That right there is a prison grade uniform. I heard that you’re a dancer, so you’ll want to be able to move in it. I made some adjustments to it, just for you. Now put it on. Go on. I’ll turn on the lights, so it’s easier for you”.

The lights flickered on, and cut into my eyes. Inside the box was a tank top, cut, so that it would cover barely more than my chest. A pair of stained orange shorts, and worn slippers completed the outfit.

“I’m not wearing this”, I called out into the room.

“Come on, honey. You don’t want to piss me of”.

“Fuck you!”, I yelled, and kicked the box into the corner.

Loud music, some kind of weird trance/dubstep mashup, with a pounding bass played loudly enough for me to cover my ears.

“Put on the clothes, and put your own clothes in the box”, Griggs voice boomed. “This is my house, sweetbutt, and you’ll respect your host!”.

The music became impossibly louder, and I dived for the box, grabbing the clothes.

“That’s it. Now turn towards the camera, and let me see you”. I did as asked, and started to strip down to my underwear. I was still wearing my glittery dance bra, and ripped jeans; shedding the later, to reveal my black panties underneath.

“Now we’re talking, huh, boys”, Griggs voice laughed; and I heard other voices in the background, jeering along with him.

Quickly, I put on the prison “uniform”, and put my own clothes into the box, pushing it out of the hatch, that had reopened. The box disappeared, and was replaced with a small bowl; filled with small brown pellets, floating around in some water.

“Kibble time, puss”.

The lights went out again, and everything went silent.

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag imagine #rick flag fic #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #amanda waller

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Twenty-Four

“Robs, we got a meeting in five minutes,” Beverly stated as she stood beside Robyn’s desk.

“I know. I’m trying to find the vendor file for Albert’s. Question? Did you move some of my stuff off my desk while I was gone?”

“I unpacked that box that was delivered the day your boyfriend came by and moved some of your files to your inbox but that was it.”

“What was in the box anyway?”

“This,” Beverly pointed at a large marble figurine that was now sitting by her phone, “I left the card it came with in your top drawer. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it.”

“I’ve been on Zoom conference calls all day. I haven’t had time to look at my phone. It is beautiful though.”

“It is.”

“Did you read the card?”

“Thought about it but it seemed like a personal gift.”

“Well thank you for your restraint.”

Beverly laughed, “We need to get going to the meeting. I got paper copies of the presentation slides and of the vendor file, we’ll have to find the original later.”

“Works for me.”

Robyn grabbed her iPad and followed Beverly to the conference room.

“Just something for you to always remember me by and to brighten up your desk. Love you. Christopher.”

Robyn smiled as she read the words of the card. Chris got her a just-because gift. And it was expensive as hell, going by the price on the internet when she researched what the figurine was. It was a marble statue in the shape of two non-descript bodies, one male and one female, entwined with each other. She didn’t see one that looked exactly like the one Chris gave her so it seemed to be custom. She picked up her office phone and dialed a number. It rang for a few moments before she heard a voice, “Hello, Professor Brown speaking.”

“Professor Brown? I kind of like the sound of that.”

Chris laughed, “Hey Baby. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to check on you. How are you?”

“I’m good. Getting back into the swing of things.”

“Regretting teaching for the summer yet?”

“Actually no. I got a pretty good set of students this summer. I’m happy about that.”

“That’s great but I wanted to thank you for my gift.”

“You finally opened the box?”

“The day you came over for lunch, I completely forgot about it. Bev unpacked it while we were in Pennsylvania. Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“Because it was a gift, I didn’t want to assume you opened it already and then ruin the surprise.”

“I guess. Is it custom?”

“It’s one of a kind but I didn’t have it specially made. The artist doesn’t do mass production.”

“Well it’s beautiful. What made you pick that one?”

“It just seemed like something you would like. Was I right?”

“Very right. What you up to right now?”

“Just finishing up a lesson plan. Why?”

“You gonna be in your office for a while?”

“Maybe a few more hours. I got office hours this afternoon.”

“Cool.”

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. Just wondering.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Well I just wanted to thank you for my gift. I gotta finish up this proposal and take a nap.”

“You’ve been doing ok with working your normal hours?”

“As long as I sneak a nap in, I’m good.”

“Alright Baby. Finish your work and get some rest, I’ll see you at home.”

“Ok. Love you.”

“I love you too, Baby. Bye.”

“Bye.”

They hung up. Robyn glanced at the clock then looked down at the proposal on her desk, “that can wait until tomorrow.”

She logged into her computer system and pulled up the online order form for her favorite restaurant.

“Somehow I just knew you were gonna pull up on me,” Chris said as he opened his office door. He took the large cloth bag from Robyn’s hand as he leaned in to kiss her.

“I wasn’t going to but then I said what the hell, I haven’t seen your office yet.”

“You haven't?”

“Nope.”

“That’s crazy. I thought I brought you here before but regardless, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. I needed to get out of the office.”

“Tough day.”

“Long day. I was gonna just take a nap and get back at it but I decided to just take the rest of the day off.”

“My couch is very comfy if you wanna stay and still take your nap.”

“I’m not trying to crowd your space, I just wanted to bring you something to eat for a change.”

“I like you in my space though.”

Robyn playfully rolled her eyes as she sat on the edge of his desk, “so what’s the lesson for the week?”

“We are working on basic scales on the piano. This is my beginner’s Piano class that I’m teaching this summer.”

“You teaching composition classes?”

“Not this summer. I didn’t want to teach anything too complex. Beginner’s Piano lets me relax a bit because if I don’t want to teach, teach, I can always give them practice notes and they can do that in lieu of class.”

“Ah, good thinking.”

“I have good ideas sometimes.”

Robyn chuckled, “so when are you gonna play for me again? It’s been a long time actually.”

“Well after lunch, I could take you to my classroom, I keep a keyboard in there for illustrations.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. So we’ll eat, I take you around to see some stuff then we’ll go to my class.”

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

“Dada!”

Chris pulled his attention from Robyn moving around the kitchen to Christian sitting on his lap. He carefully fixed his elongated curls and kissed his forehead, “what’s up, Baby Boy? Daddy not paying enough attention to you.”

Christian poked out his bottom lip and Chris chuckled, “your sister’s been teaching you a lot more than I thought.”

“Did he hit you with the pout?” Robyn asked with a laugh.

“He definitely did.”

“I took his teddy bear this morning and he did it to me. Isn’t it cute?”

“Yea until he realizes it’s power.”

Robyn laughed, “like Anesa has with you.”

Chris rolled his eyes, “whatever.”

“Our daughter has you wrapped around her finger and you know it.”

“She’s just like her mama.”

“I am not spoiled.”

“Yea. Right.”

“Well if I am spoiled, it’s your fault.”

“Whatever.”

Robyn chuckled, “you decide what you want for dinner?”

“Isn’t it a little early?”

“I’m in a cooking mood so I’d rather start while I feel like it.”

“I can cook dinner, Babe.”

“I know but I’m not asking you that. I’m asking what do you want to eat for dinner?”

Chris raised his brow at her and Robyn settled her hands on her hips as she tilted her head at him, “problem?”

“Nope.”

A big smile came over his face and Robyn’s brow furrowed in confusion, “why you smiling so wide?”

“Just realized something.”

“Something like?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok,” Robyn said softly, “you know what you want?”

“Oxtails.”

“Yellow rice or rice and peas?”

“Rice and peas.”

“Macaroni and cheese or cabbage?”

“Can you do both?”

“Yup. Dessert?”

“I’ll make it. What you thinking?”

“Apple pie with ice cream sounds good.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. I’ll get the oxtails started and in the crockpot so you’ll have your space for whatever you need to do.”

“Check and see if there’s any ingredients you need, me and the kids can go to the store for you.”

“I should be good. I did want to ask you something.”

“Anything, Baby. What’s up?”

“Do you have any friends?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m very serious. I never hear about any or see you leave to hang out or anything.”

“I do have friends but we all have busy lives so we don’t get together as much. Also I did leave most of our friends behind in LA.”

“Do you ever regret leaving LA, separate from the divorce?”

“Honestly? No. We lived there for a long time so there’s not much I missed while living there. You?”

“I don’t know. I think we spent so much time together and traveling all over the place, LA was a home base but it wasn’t home, if that makes sense.”

“I get what you mean. You ever think about going back?”

“I’ve thought about going to visit but never actively made plans.”

“We should take the kids. Go to Disneyland, show them my other profession.”

“How is the firm doing?”

“It’s going well. I haven’t had any fires that needed to be put out so other than occasional conference calls regarding budgets and project approvals, I’ve been pretty hands off.”

“You ever thought about going back to being an architect?”

“I get the chance to still be a part of the industry being on the board so I don’t feel like I totally left in a sense.”

“Understandable.I also need to know if you’re going to my gala with me.”

“Of course. I’m your forever date, remember?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that but ok.”

Chris shook his head with a laugh, “there you go being stubborn for no reason.”

Robyn laughed, “I’m just saying that I don’t remember saying that.”

“OK Wife.”

“Ok Boyfriend.”

Chris stuck his tongue out at her while he stood up with Christian in his arms, “I’m gonna put him down for his nap then I’ll be back to help cook. Don’t start without me, I need to see how you cook these”

“Oxtails are not difficult to make.”

“For someone who’s been making them most of their life, of course not.”

“Am I giving you a cooking lesson?”

“You could call it that.”

“I think you just want to be up under me.”

“Up under you and a whole lot more.”

“You lucky he’s still an infant and not repeating you just yet.”

“I got some time before we have to start speaking in code.”

“You’re silly.”

Chris left down the hall while Robyn began rummaging through the freezer.

“Ok, you can put the peppers in now,” Robyn instructed as she glanced over into the crockpot. Chris gathered a pile of chopped green pepper and dumped them into the vessel, “those aren’t chopped too big?”

“Nah, it’s gonna stew for a couple hours so they’ll break down. If we diced them to start with, they’ll disintegrate by time the food was done.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“So what exactly do you know how to cook?”

“Anything as long as I got the recipe.”

“You don’t cook from memory?”

“Some stuff, mainly stuff I’ve been eating the majority of my life but everything else, I need a recipe.”

“And here I was all impressed, thinking you were cooking from memory or something.”

“It was still good though.”

“It was but we’ll work on that part.”

“What part?”

“Learning to cook from the heart and not from a cookbook or Google search.”

“That sounds way easier than it is.”

“I think you’ll catch on quick. So earlier, what was that big smile all about?”

“What smile?”

“When I was asking you about what you wanted for dinner.”

“Just reminded me of when we were first married. You get pretty feisty once you get comfortable with someone.”

“I’ve always been comfortable with you.”

“No you haven't, especially since we were kind of pushed into the next step of the relationship before either of us were ready.”

“What you mean?”

“We had only been seriously dating for a few weeks then suddenly we’re moving in together. I’m sure that was not part of your plan at the time.”

“I honestly didn’t have a plan. You were the one ready to get married again.”

“Getting married again and having a baby are two totally different plans.”

“Another baby wasn’t in the plans?”

“Considering your age, I wasn’t exactly sure if you wanted to try for biological children, that’s why I never brought it up.”

“We never talked about kids?”

“No. Nesa asked you about it once but other than that, the discussion never came up. And that was before we were even dating.”

“We didn’t talk about a lot of stuff.”

“Not exactly my fault though.”

Robyn cut her eye at Chris and he shrugged his shoulders, “you had me walking on eggshells and you know it.”

“That was never my intention.”

“I know.”

“You know you could’ve broken up with me at some point.”

“That was never an option.”

“Why?”

“I trust you and your judgment, you know when you’re tripping and will adjust accordingly. It’d be stupid as hell to break up over something that’s easy to fix.”

“I guess.”

“Did you want to break up with me?”

“I didn’t even want to get back with you in the first place, remember?”

“Actually you did but you were afraid to, not the same thing.”

“Fear was the reason. Not dating was the action. You and your semantics again.”

Chris laughed as he grabbed a bottle of juice out of the fridge.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re being feisty again.”

“You’re annoying.”

Chris chuckled as he walked over to her and leaned against the counter next to her. Robyn rolled her eyes as she placed the seasoned meat into the crockpot and put on the lid. She set it to high then turned to face Chris, “so what do you wanna do until dinner?”

“Let’s keep talking about this feisty attitude of yours.”

“I’d rather not,” Robyn pointed a wooden spoon in his direction, “and if that smirk turns into a laugh, I’ma pop you in the head with this spoon.”

“Now you’re threatening me? Oh, I should definitely start planning our wedding.”

“You get on my nerves.”

“And you love me.”

“You’re just a glutton for punishment.”

“Considering I dish it and don’t take it, I will disagree with that.”

“The lies.”

“I got some clips that say otherwise.”

“Shut up.”

Chris took a sip of his juice, “if you were to get married again, do you want a wedding or just a reception?”

“Neither. I’d rather just skip to the  honeymoon.”

“You wouldn’t want to celebrate?”

“Been there. Done that.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to make new memories though.”

“I just don’t want the theatrics. An uneventful proposal and marriage day works. Simple works just fine for me”

“Really?”

“Yea. What? You over there taking notes?”

“No, just asking questions.”

“I already know you’re gonna propose to me so you don’t have to play coy.”

“I’m not proposing tonight therefore I’m not playing coy.”

“Would you want a ceremony?”

“Something simple to mark the moment, yes.”

“Hmm…”

“Why you say it like that?”

“Just thinking. You wanna take a nap? The babies are still asleep.”

“Sure. Bedroom or couch?”

“Couch, it’s closer to the kitchen for when I gotta periodically check on the food.”

“Works for me.”

“When are you gonna make the pie?”

“About two hours or so before dinner, apple pie is better when it’s warm.”

“That’s true.”

“You gonna help me bake?”

“Considering my dessert resume only has pound cake on it, I’ll learn from you.”

Chris smiled then took another sip of juice.

“You and these damn smirks. What now?”

“Feisty then submissive. Just observing.”

“I am so over you right now.”

Robyn tossed the kitchen towel she was holding onto the counter and left out the kitchen with Chris’s laughter following her.

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

“Chris, what are you doing here? I thought you had a class today,” Robyn said as she opened her office door. Chris held up a to-go bag from her favorite BBQ place and smiled, “I came to have lunch with my wife and today’s my free day, remember?”

“It definitely is. Well, this is nice. I was just thinking about you.”

“You were? About what?”

Robyn shrugged her shoulders as she grabbed napkins and plastic utensils from the basket underneath her coffee table. Chris sat down on the couch next to her as she handed him some wet wipes.

“Nothing specific. You just crossed my mind.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Have you done something concerning?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t have to be concerned.”

Chris rolled his eyes and Robyn laughed, “forever the smart ass.”

“You asked. I answered. So what did you bring me to eat?”

“Chicken, hushpuppies and macaroni and cheese. Oh, and a Pepsi.”

“You are ruining my diet.”

“You aren’t on a diet.”

“Precisely my point, I can’t start with you feeding me like this.”

Chris laughed, “you don’t need to diet. As long as your doctor says you're healthy, the rest is welcomed to stay.”

“You just like my fat ass, you can say it.”

“You already did”

Robyn gasped and hit his arm, “you weren’t supposed to agree.”

“That ass is fat. I don’t know how you meant it but I know how I mean it and it’s perfect to me.”

“Whatever.”

“Do you really wanna lose weight or do you think I have a problem with your weight?”

“I don’t think you have a problem with my weight, considering how you always rubbing on my butt, hips and love handles, I’m getting the sense you’re enjoying it.”

Chris grinned at her and Robyn rolled her eyes, “but I’m still personally on the fence about it. I’m not as self-conscious but I’m still getting used to it.”

“Understandable. Well, since we’re talking about things you might still be on the fence about, I figured I’d get this question out of the way.”

“I know you are not proposing to me right now.”

“And if I was?”

“Chris, I am at work and sitting in front of you with Bbq sauce all over my hands and maybe on my face.”

Chris smiled as he used a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth, “and you’ve never looked more beautiful to me.”

“This can’t be the moment. This is ghetto.”

Chris laughed, “This is not ghetto. This is real. This isn’t about having some spectacular story to tell because I think everything about our journey has been spectacular. I’ve always wanted to believe that you’d come back into my life and for seven years I was deathly afraid to but God and fate saw fit to bring you back to me in a manner that I never imagined. It gave us both clarity and allowed us to remedy a situation that honestly never ended, it just stopped. Robyn Rihanna Fenty Brown, I would be honored if you would be my wife again.”

“Oh my god, I need a napkin.”

Chris chuckled as he grabbed some wipes and gingerly wiped her hands, “better?”

“A little. I still think this is a bit unorthodox but...I’m completely ok with it.”

“Anything else you’re completely ok with?”

“I would absolutely love to marry you again.”

Chris grabbed her face and kissed her deeply before hugging her tightly, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now where’s my ring?”

“I don't have it.”

“How you gonna propose with no ring?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get a ring. I said I don’t have it, meaning it’s not on my person.”

“So where is it?”

“You got it.”

“How would I have it?”

Chris smirked and Robyn hit his shoulder, “Christopher. Stop playing.”

“I’m not playing. You have your ring.”

“I did pawn our last ring.”

“I know and I wouldn’t use that one even if you did still have it.”

“Chris, where is my ring?”

Chris wiped his hands then walked over to Robyn’s desk and grabbed the new marble art piece that was sitting beside her phone. Robyn’s brow furrowed as Chris brought it over to the coffee table. She became more confused as he turned it upside down and pulled out a silicone plug. He shook it lightly and something wrapped in a white cloth fell into the palm of his hand. He placed the silicone plug back then set the art piece down on the table before turning to face Robyn. He carefully unwrapped the white cloth and a large marquise shaped diamond set into a platinum band that was covered in smaller circular diamonds glistened in his hand.

“Your hand, please?”

Robyn shakingly put out her left hand and Chirs slipped the ring onto her ring finger, “Robyn Fenty Brown, will you marry me?”

She nodded her head as she wiped the tears from falling down her face, “Christopher, it’s so beautiful.”

“I did good, huh?”

“You did but how long was that ring in that piece?”

“Since the day I mailed it to you.”

“So what would’ve happened if you proposed somewhere, not my office?”

“That was never the plan.”

“You planned this? I am not even dressed up or nothing.”

“Because I wanted it to be about us, not fancy dinners and stuff, which there is nothing wrong with, but we’ve also done that already. I thought you would appreciate me not making a huge spectacle of it.”

“I do but I’m also a little caught off-guard.”

“You just knew I was gonna propose in front of the Empire State Building or something with fireworks, huh?”

“I was anticipating it.”

Chris laughed, “are you happy?”

“I am very happy.”

“Good.”

“We’re getting married again?”

“We’re getting married again.”

“EEK!” Robyn squealed as she jumped into his lap and kissed him, “I love you, Christopher.”

“I love you too.”

#chrianna #loveisblindfanfiction

[ladylynse]

Chapter 13 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:50 PM

Jake couldn’t see Danny as he winged around to the building where Hawk Moth stood with Susan, but he had a feeling he knew Danny’s plan: namely, get Nino out of danger. Specifically, do that by phasing him out of Susan’s claws. Randy—who was clinging to the edge of the roof and barely showing more than his eyes and fingertips—looked ready to jump into action the moment that happened, and Jake knew he should be, too, but….

This situation wasn’t just his fault.

It was the fault of the World Dragons in general.

If they’d ever found a replacement for the French Dragon or at least done a better job of checking up on France, this might not have happened.

Which meant it was Jake’s responsibility not just to diffuse this particular situation and deal with the fallout but also to, well, see what he could do about Hawk Moth so that he didn’t keep doing this in Paris.

Jake hovered in the air for a moment, knowing he’d been spotted, but despite the telling flick of her eyes, his mother didn’t call any attention to him. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was good or bad; she still recognized him, right? Was she ignoring him on purpose? She had to know he couldn’t let this slide. Between her letting everyone in the city—and, let’s face it, beyond—know that dragons exist and this Hawk Moth guy misusing magical artefacts, there was no way he couldn’t get involved.

Jake took a deep breath, folded his wings, and let fire burn away his scales. He landed on the roof with very human feet, rolling with the impact and rising from a crouch as Hawk Moth turned. Jake gave him a wide berth, ignoring Hawk Moth in favour of his mom. He edged around to keep her in sight, though he knew better than to turn his back on an enemy. “Mom,” he whispered, “don’t do this. Please.”

He saw Hawk Moth’s triumphant smile out of the corner of his eye. “So. This is your son, one of the city’s great protectors.”

Susan said nothing, though she held Jake’s gaze.

“You’re better than this,” Jake said when he noticed Hawk Moth open his mouth again. “You know what I’m fighting for. You know why I fight for it. You have to know this is wrong. Just step back and think about it for a moment, like you always taught me to do. This isn’t you. Please.”

“Dracona,” Hawk Moth said sharply. “Tell me what else I should know about your son.”

What else he should know.

That meant he already knew something.

That she’d already told him something.

How much?

“What? What did you tell him? Why did you tell him anything?”

For a few heartbeats, Jake was sure his mom wasn’t going to answer—him or Hawk Moth. He hoped she was ignoring his questions because they were ridiculous and she’d never tell someone like him anything important, whatever he demanded. He hoped he’d managed to get through to her when it came to Hawk Moth, too. She was still looking at him, and he was familiar enough with reading dragon expressions to see determination settle on her face. It gave him hope—until she opened her mouth and said, “I made a deal. I’ve realized that I have to fulfill it.”

“You don’t!”

“Fighting doesn’t work.” She sounded more resigned than she looked, which was weird, but whatever. “I’ve tried. I can’t.”

Jake wanted to wipe the smug expression off Hawk Moth’s face, but Danny was right. If Randy’s book did mean that he could talk his mom down, he had to try—and if he could do that without giving Hawk Moth any more information about the magical world, dragons included, then all the better. “You can, I swear,” Jake insisted. “You just said you’ve fought it before. You can do it again. And you know what it’s like to try to fight off mind control; G would’ve trained you, I know he would’ve. You can’t give up now, yo. You have to keep trying. You can do this!” She turned back to Hawk Moth, and he called again, “Please! I’m sorry about earlier! I’m sorry about everything. Just don’t do this. You know it’s not right!”

Susan ignored him, instead answering Hawk Moth’s question as if they hadn’t let him have his say at all. “My son is foolish, and he is brave.”

“Mom, just stop, okay?”

“He is young, and he is skilled.”

“Don’t tell him everything. You can’t.” If he didn’t think he’d lose against her in a straight up attack, he’d do it. Nino’s magic suit looked more durable than Randy’s and seemed to protect him from a lot; it should protect him from being crushed underfoot or impaled by a stray claw. Trouble was, Susan was still the bigger dragon, and even if she didn’t have as much practice as Jake when it came to being a dragon and moving around, that inexperience hadn’t shown up so far. Besides, she knew way more theory than he did, and if she didn’t have any trouble applying it….

Attacking her now would just make him more vulnerable.

And attacking Hawk Moth was likely to invite a retaliatory attack from her, and he didn’t particularly want that in either form. Randy was not enough back up for that. So where the heck was Danny?

“He makes mistakes, many of them, but he always tries his best to do what is right.”

Jake shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected a glowing review, exactly, but he hadn’t thought his mom would put it quite like that. He could guess why Hawk Moth might ask—if he’d identified Jake as a protector of the NYC, if not the magical world, then he knew Jake was here to fight him—but he still didn’t know why Susan had answered.

For that matter, he didn’t know why neither of them had just attacked; he was a lot more vulnerable in this form, and Hawk Moth at least had no idea how quickly he could change…unless his mom had already passed on that bit of information.

A subtle movement caught Jake’s eye, and he tracked it in time to see the tips of Nino’s ears slide downwards and disappear through the roof.

Strangely, Susan said nothing about it, even though Jake knew she must have noticed. He turned to get a better view of Hawk Moth, but he didn’t seem to notice, either. He was still staring at Jake. Maybe this hadn’t been a bad plan, after all, even if Nino had gotten who was a suitable distraction completely wrong.

“He also possesses a greater magic than yours,” Susan said quietly, “because the magic you use is borrowed and not your own.”

Hawk Moth scowled and looked back at her. “My magic will be greater than either of you can imagine once I have the Miraculous I seek. Give me Chat Noir’s.”

“Gonna have a hard time with that,” Randy called, drawing everyone’s attention. He was sitting on the edge of the roof now; Jake hadn’t even noticed him climb up. Maybe he’d still been underestimating Randy’s Ninja skills, despite having ample evidence of exactly how good Randy could be. “I mean, you kinda gotta have something to give it in the first place.”

“What?” roared Hawk Moth. He spun back to Dracona, and Jake had to look twice at the cane in his hand to confirm that, yes, it had hidden a sword, and now Hawk Moth had discarded its sheath. “You let him escape?”

“I brought you his ring, as you asked. It’s hardly my fault you didn’t take it when you had the chance.” She tilted her head towards Jake and added, “I’ve also told you about our local hero. Consider our contract fulfilled.”

“The Miraculous is not in my hands!”

“But I did bring it to you,” she repeated, “and—”

Hawk Moth lunged.

Despite how focused he’d been on Susan, he came at Jake. Jake scrambled back and somehow tripped over his own feet. He handed hard on his bottom and breathed a spout of fire in Hawk Moth’s direction to encourage him to keep his distance, but Jake realized a split second later that that hadn’t been necessary. Jake had a brief glimpse of Randy’s scarf wrapping around Hawk Moth’s torso and forcing him to a stop before one of Susan’s wings spread out between them as protection.

“Get his Miraculous!”

Jake turned as he climbed to his feet and saw Nino already back on the roof, racing towards Hawk Moth. Susan dropped her wing, looking like she was preparing to breath her own fire instead, and Jake saw Hawk Moth snarl and twist back towards Randy. He raised his sword and severed the scarf in one quick swipe.

Randy let out a cry as the fabric fell, and Hawk Moth froze even as he turned his blade on Nino.

That’s where Danny was, then.

“It’s his brooch,” Nino explained as he started unravelling the layers of scarf that covered Hawk Moth’s chest. He had to duck around the sword but didn’t seem overly bothered by the inconvenience; Hawk Moth’s arm had frozen mid-swing, partially blocking his chest, and his sword was still held in a tight grip, judging by how it didn’t even tremble. “If we can get it, then we can stop everything right now, and—” He broke off.

Jake didn’t need to walk closer to see what the problem was—even he was sure the Miraculous wasn’t supposed to be glowing that bright green colour—but he reached Nino only a few steps ahead of Randy. On closer inspection, the situation looked worse, with cracks of bright purple spiderwebbing across the entire brooch that grew wider as Jake watched.

“Um. You probably don’t wanna touch that,” Randy said. “It looks like it’s about to explode. Can those things explode?”

“I didn’t think so,” Nino said, but he sounded as confident as he looked—which, when he was chewing on his lip and staring at the brooch instead of reaching for it, told Jake all he needed to know.

Jake felt a hand on his arm, and he turned back to see the familiar face of his mother. “I don’t know if I’m free of him,” she said quietly. “You need to end this now, before—”

Purple light exploded.

Jake stumbled forward, hearing multiple grunts behind him and more than one body hitting the rooftop.

As he hadn’t been looking directly at the Miraculous, he wasn’t blinded like the others undoubtedly were. Still, he was too stunned to react as Hawk Moth’s sword flashed towards Susan, slicing away her necklace—and into her flesh. He heard her scream. He heard himself scream as he scrambled forward to try to catch her.

There was so much blood.

There shouldn’t be this much blood.

Red smoke clouded his vision, but at that point, it didn’t matter; Jake couldn’t see through his tears anyway.

7:53 PM

McFist thought he had a plan. Rotwood claimed that it was more his plan than McFist’s. Haley just had a budding headache and a growing, panicked worry in her chest that wouldn’t go away without more information.

The plan, as it was, wasn’t very good. It required a lot of luck, which in Haley’s experience tended to go sour; a healthy dose of lies, which sounded terribly unbelievable to her ears; and the remaining supply of Ninja Cold Balls, which McFist had picked out with unnerving accuracy. “How long would a pop-up skating rink even last?” Haley asked, interrupting whatever Rotwood and McFist were arguing about.

“Ninja ice lasts longer than regular ice,” McFist said. “Magic. Figured you knew.”

“Right.”

“So we’ll expand on the patch you started. It’ll still be there. We’ll call it a teaser if anyone asks. People like sneak peeks.”

There was absolutely no way this would work.

“Little bit of fashion, little bit of skating. It’ll sell. People eat this stuff up all the time.”

Rotwood sniffed. “And when people call your bluff, I will tell them the real reason for all of this—don’t look at me like that; I respect the deals I make, so of course I do not mean the real real reason. I will insist it is the work of magical creatures and use the fight of the Ninja and the dragon as my proof.”

“At which point I remind people that the best advertising is the viral kind, and people believe me instead of him. Everyone loves a good show.”

There was no nice way to tell them this wouldn’t work, was there? “I’m not sure—”

“You can even come out and pretend to be a ninja if you like. Really sell it. You any good at skating?”

She was better at the violin. “I don’t even have skates.”

McFist shrugged. “No one else will, either. You ever wear an expensive pair of shoes meant for indoors? Those things have no grip. It’ll be fine.”

It wouldn’t be. Not on its own. Maybe she’d get lucky and think of what else they could do to supplement it once they got going, though. Haley glanced at Rotwood. “You’re really okay with your name being dragged through the mud again for making false claims?”

“I will hardly be the only one reporting on this magical creature sighting. Besides, I can always try to prove the existence of the magical world again later. A visit the Magus Bazaar—or whatever you will do for me instead of that—is worth more than an attempt to get people to see the truth when I know you are already working against me.” Rotwood spread his hands. “Think of it as me hedging my bets. I have more chance of success in the future, when you and your brother are not aware of my actions.”

Haley had no idea how Jake put up with Rotwood in school every day. She sincerely hoped Rotwood would find another job by the time she went to Millard Fillmore, at least if he didn’t change his tune. It was hard to admire his perseverance when she knew how much his success would cost the magical world.

Maybe Jake should just try to sit him down and strike a long-term bargain with him. Rotwood might not be so set on exposing the magical world if he finally understood what that exposure would mean. She doubted he’d be happy to consistently work to protect the magical world, but he might agree to keep silent about it—and keep his personal rivals away from it—in exchange for more information. From what Jake had told her, he was working off a lot more fiction than fact.

Heck, if Randy could come up with something better to offer McFist, he might think twice about working with the Sorcerer, too. She was less certain on that front, of course, but McFist seemed to be in it only for his reward. Dealing with a rogue sorcerer technically fell under the purview of the dragons, too, so Randy would be perfectly within his rights to ask for help. It just seemed to her like there might be a better way to do this, since McFist and Rotwood were acting more reasonable than she’d expected.

And a lot more helpful, too.

It was different with Nino. He didn’t know Hawk Moth’s identity, and from what she’d seen and heard, Hawk Moth wasn’t someone that could be easily talked down. He had an agenda, and he’d see it through no matter who got hurt in the process. That made him someone they needed to take down, not someone they might be able to negotiate with.

But if Jake didn’t defeat him now, he’d have to play politics himself to get help to Nino. It would be a lot easier if he didn’t have to go through the Dragon Council to get permission for something like that, if he and the others could just make some agreement and do it all under the table. Gramps might not wholly approve, but he wouldn’t disapprove, not if Jake was doing the right thing, and Fu would be more than willing to help. She could cover for him if he ever had business elsewhere, with Trixie and Spud for backup if they were still around, and—

“I’ll keep these throwing balls in case they come in handy later,” McFist said as he started to pocket everything that wasn’t a Ninja Cold Ball. “You start making the rink, and Rotwood and I will seed rumours.”

“What if this doesn’t work?” Haley asked. “What if no one believes us? What if they see through it?”

McFist jerked his thumb towards Rotwood. “So you’re saying people might believe him? I was getting the impression that he was a bit of a Cassandra type myself.”

“That’s not the worst comparison you could have made,” Rotwood muttered.

“No, but…. What’s our backup plan?”

“What was your backup plan?”

She bit her lip. “I trusted that I’d come up with something that would work if it came to that.”

McFist snorted. “Yeah, well, my backup plan is the simple fact that if you act like you know what’s going on and you’re good at selling it, people will believe you, even if it’s outrageous. I mean, my company cleans up the messes our own robots make, and we’re commended for it. It’s all about having good PR. I may not be good at inventing things to get the results I want, but I am good at handling the public. You follow through on your end of the deal, and I’ll make sure they don’t turn on you.”

7:54 PM

“Randy said he can help,” Danny said as he pulled Jake away from Susan. “Let him. He’ll help your mom. You and I need to catch that akuma. Nino’s going after Hawk Moth. He grabbed one of Randy’s smoke bombs and escaped. We’re lucky it wasn’t one of those bee balls.”

Jake didn’t respond.

He might not even be listening.

He wasn’t fighting in Danny’s grip anymore, not even when Randy bent over Susan and held his hands over her to do some Ninja thing. Jake was just dead weight, conscious but not home, which was not what Danny needed right now. It wasn’t what any of them needed, Susan included.

Danny formed a handful of ice cubes and dumped them down the back of Jake’s shirt.

The reaction was thankfully immediate, with Jake jerking away from him. “Yo, that is not cool, man!”

“Actually, it’s ice cold, which is why I did it.”

Jake turned to glare at Danny, but his anger was short-lived; Danny could see new tears forming in his eyes. He started to turn back to his mom, but Danny caught his arm. “Hey. We need to deal with the akuma. You’re the American Dragon. This is part of that.”

“I don’t care about the stupid akuma.”

“You will if it multiplies and you’re dealing with a whole lotta people who can turn into dragons. Let’s go.”

“Mom—”

“Randy is helping her,” Danny repeated. “Let him. Help from your friends, remember?”

“That’s not—”

“We need to go before we lose the akuma entirely,” Danny interrupted. He was two seconds away from leaving Jake behind and just going to look for it on its own, even if he didn’t know what he’d do if he caught it, but Jake had better night vision than he did.

Jake took a shuddering breath and ground out, “Fine,” before transforming without another word.

Danny flew up to join him in the air, deciding Jake didn’t care about the other details right now. With any luck, Nino would catch Hawk Moth. That would make dealing with the akuma easier. Maybe. They needed something to go their way for once.

Danny knew better than to ask if Jake had spotted it yet, so he just hovered and waited as Jake looked and listened. When he picked a direction and started flying, Danny followed. He didn’t see anything that look remotely like a butterfly, but he trusted Jake.

After about a minute of flying with no butterfly in sight, he started to question that. They weren’t flying that slowly. The butterfly shouldn’t have been this far in front of them. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Danny ventured. “I mean, I can always scout behind us if you’re not.”

“The last one we saw was flying in this direction,” Jake said. “I think it was going for higher ground.”

“This is a city of skyscrapers. Isn’t everywhere higher ground?”

“You know what I mean.”

He didn’t, but Danny didn’t bother pressing the point. There was a more important question to ask. “What makes you think this one is going to the same place the last one was?”

“I…don’t, really. But it makes sense.”

Danny tried to figure out what he could say to that that wouldn’t sound completely insensitive when he knew Jake was preoccupied with worry about his mom. The truth of it was, it didn’t make sense, at least not to Danny, and he really wasn’t keen on the idea of them not splitting up to look for this thing if Jake wasn’t sure.

“I think it’s like those zombie ants.”

Danny blinked. “What?” He couldn’t have heard that right.

“You know. Those zombie ants. That get infected with that fungus. It, like, takes over their mind and makes them go to higher ground to die and then it spreads. This might be like that.”

“Okay, one, how have I never heard about this before if it’s real, and two, pretty sure the magical butterflies aren’t infected with a fungus.”

“I didn’t say they were! Just that it would make sense with the higher ground thing.”

Danny groaned. “I don’t suppose you know if Spud found that thermos?”

“I’m not even sure if he’s looking for it. He’s doing something that he thinks will help.”

“With what?”

“I dunno. Everything, maybe. I trust him. He and Trix have my back.”

It would be a little hypocritical to argue against the whole ‘trust your friends and let them help you’ bit now, but it was hard. Jake might be clutching at straws because it was better to do that than to think about what he’d left behind. Danny really had no idea what Randy could do, but he’d sounded confident, so Danny hadn’t asked.

Maybe he should’ve; it would’ve made this conversation easier to navigate.

“Look, this akuma is as important as Hawk Moth right now. Pretty sure it won’t go away when he drops the mask, so we need to figure out how to contain it. Would Spud and Trixie know of anything that would help? Are they following a hunch?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Perfect.

Danny followed him in silence, debating the merits of breaking off to check any other direction and then deciding that if Nino wasn’t successful in catching Hawk Moth, it wouldn’t be in their best interest to leave Jake alone in this mood.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said when the silence started to stretch. “I know this sucks. I know you’re worried about your mom, and what the Dragon Council is going to do when they find out about this, and—”

“Two o’clock, maybe thirty degrees up,” Jake interrupted, altering his course.

Danny blinked, and in his moment of hesitation, Jake let out a plume of fire that lit up and then completely engulfed a butterfly.

It didn’t immediately incinerate, like Danny had expected. It bubbled, roiling magic boiling across wings that fluttered frantically to stay aloft. When the flame died, all Danny could see was the afterimage seared green and white into his eyes.

“You wanna catch it?”

“It’s still alive?” Danny asked, looking around as his vision started to go back to normal. “I don’t—” He broke off. The white butterfly wings stood out more clearly against the sky than the purple ones had, and he caught the butterfly in his hands with surprisingly little effort—or maybe it just felt that way after everything else.

It was hard to believe he’d been in Amity Park for lunch.

Of course, coming from Amity Park and having the experiences that he did, he wasn’t about to assume that the colour change of the butterfly (or, frankly, its survival) was a fluke. Chances were good Nino could explain what had happened, but Danny just hoped it was a good thing. If they’d just released the magic and now didn’t have something concrete to chase after, he didn’t know how they were going to gather it all back up. Well, maybe Pandora could tweak her box if he borrowed it, but—

“I was trying to kill it,” Jake admitted as Danny stopped to hover across from him. The butterfly’s wings beat against Danny’s closed fingers, but he couldn’t lead the way back to Nino and (hopefully) answers. He’d already gotten turned around, and he wasn’t sure where they were. “I just…. I dunno. I wanted this problem gone. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work. The last one survived, too.”

“What? Really?” Danny hadn’t thought much about the first butterfly, but in retrospect, he supposed it must’ve survived if Nino was right about Hawk Moth recalling it. Maybe this was the same butterfly? He glanced down at his hands. Maybe Jake had had the same thought. He didn’t typically go for straight up destroying stuff, but if the butterflies were the only way Hawk Moth could release his magic….

“Just don’t let go of it,” Jake said, as if Danny had had any intentions otherwise. He flew back faster than they’d flown out, likely because he wasn’t trying to track a butterfly this time, but Danny easily kept pace.

He didn’t try to force a conversation, though. It was obvious enough Jake still wasn’t in the mood to talk, and Danny’s dismal attempts earlier made it clear that he didn’t know what to say.

Hopefully, by the time they got back to Randy, they’d get some good news for a change.

(see more fics | next)

#secret quartet #adjl #miraculous ladybug #danny phantom #rc9gn #american dragon #jake long #randy cunningham #danny fenton #adrien agreste #hawk moth #gabriel agreste #susan long #haley long #hans rotwood #hannibal mcfist #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #crossover snippet

[milkybunbuns]

ii. battles → perfection masterlist → next → previous

w/c: 1.9 K

warnings: spoilers for season 1 episodes 6 and 7

a/n: I moved the basic hero training part to morning because I realised half way through it happened in the afternoon and I was too lazy to change everything 😅

A brand new day, which meant a brand new day of school. You wouldn’t even be surprised if today there would be another test and just unluckily for you, Hawks was nowhere to be seen in the morning, leaving you with no food (the fridge was empty) and there was no time to go shopping considering you were running late. Home school was kinda nicer, you could wake up whenever you want, learn whenever you want and train whenever you want, but sometimes it did get a little bit boring.

Sliding the door open quietly, you slid through the smallest opening possible and settled down in your seat, All Might completely oblivious to the fact that you had just walked in, 7 minutes late, however, it clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Iida. You watched as he raised his arm, panicking internally and waving your hands crazily at him, trying to signal him, no. Yet he paid no mind to you. Grrr, Iida!! Way to blow my sneaky entrance smh.

“Yes young Iida?”

“I’m sorry for disrupting the class, but I would like to point out that L/n-san has entered the classroom late and being part of UA, it is expected that all students should be on time”, he pointed at you, exposing you as everyone turned their heads towards you.

You heard whispers of ‘huhh, who’s that?’, ‘I didn’t see her’, ‘Is she new?’, which brought a lot of embarrassment upon yourself.

“It’s not very nice to whisper about someone in front of them kero”, Tsuyu, spoke up, which stopped all the whispers.

Iida stood up and bowed an almost perfect bow to All Might, “I’m sorry All Might for the discrepancy, please continue.”

“Right!”, the no.1 hero sweat dropped, “Please put on your costumes and meet me at Ground B”, he pressed a button on a remote, the wall somehow magically producing cases which held individual costumes based on requests. You grabbed your case, which was labelled no.9, looking around for Tsuyu so you thank her properly for standing up for you. Her green hair was pretty easy to spot, as you rushed to her.

“Oh hi L/n-san!”, she waved at you with her free hand, still keeping a fast pace.

“Hi Asui-san, thank you so much for standing up for me, I would’ve been a gonner without you.”

“It’s no problem at all and call me Tsuyu.”

“Alright Tsuyu, I was wondering if you’d like to be friends with me?”

“Of course! It’d be my pleasure kero”, okay phew it would’ve been so embarassing if she said no sjoakpa.

Everyone met outside, after changing into various hero costumes. Some looked out right ridiculous, Mineta’s was a great example for sure, while some looked really good and you couldn’t help but be in awe at Ochaco’s costume. It had a really nice colour palette consisting of pink, white and black and fitted her quirk really well.

“Ochaco!”, you waved her over, from where she was standing with Deku, quickly examining his hero costume, you noticed that the teeth looked a bit strange and he kinda looked like a bunny though it was clearly meant to be All Might style.

“Hi Y/n!!”, Ochaco smiled bouncing up and down excitedly, “This is so exciting! Our first hero training class!!”

“Yeah, I guess it is. Your costume is really cutee~”

She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, “Thanks, but I honestly didn’t expect this to be skin-tight.”

“It’s good for your quirk and easier to manoeuvre around with a tight suit rather than a loose suit. We don’t want you accidentally making yourself float in a battle.”

“Oh yeah, of course, that would be pretty bad. But I love your costume, it’s really bright though, wouldn’t that be bad for stealth?”

“That’s why I’ve already figured out what I want to be. If or when I become a hero, I’m going to be a daylight hero.” Your costume was almost all white, but it also had bits of f/c with it. It consisted of white combat boots lined with stars in f/c near the soles, as well as 3/4 length leggings and a skin-tight top which was able to help cool you off. In terms of gadgets, you had heatproof f/c gloves, a utility belt which contained ice cubes in a small thermos, bandages, a small bottle of water. Other than those, you had a heatproof visor on your face. (Feel free to imagine up your own costume)

“Wait, you’ve already thought so far ahead, we still have 3 years here tho!”

“Well, maybe I’ll change my thoughts along the way, but lets listen to All Might before we get called out.”

“Right.”

It turned out you were put in team I, along with an invisible girl, who had introduced herself as Hagakure and a tail boy who was called Ojiro.

“Okay, Hagakure, you should go scout for them and me and Ojiro will protect the bomb.”

“On it!”, and she was soon out of the room, discarding her clothes in one of the many rooms to become completely invisible. The extra time for the villains was over and before you could begin anything, ice quickly made it’s way to your feet, trapping both you and Ojiro in the ice.

Ojiro pressed a finger to his ear pierce, “Hagakure! Where are you what’s the situation?”

“The Todoroki guy has frozen the whole building and he’s coming to the room right now!”

“Okay, I’ll get us out of this”, you activated your quirk, hands quickly heating up as you let them hover over your feet, the temperature enough to melt it off. Thanks to Todoroki, the whole room was cold, so you could freely use your quirk without overheating, but the negative to this was you could only use up any stored energy from before, since it was almost pitch-black in this room. The door slammed over before you could free Ojiro, revealing Todoroki, who seemed slightly surprised that you were free. He still had no clue how your quirk operated and what it did exactly.

“So,Todoroki-kun? You after this?”, you grabbed the bomb which was still coated in a thick layer of ice and ripped it right out of the ground, allowing a pair of wings to form on your back. He raised his right foot, slamming it down to create a large scale ice attack which you avoided easily, flying out of the window and onto the rooftop where your quirk could operate freely and without end, until your body temperature gets too hot.

Todoroki followed the particles of light out, creating his own path of ice, but by the time he arrived, you already had the bomb safely sitting on the other side of the roof, now instead of being coated with ice, being coated with light energy, which was hot to the touch and melted the ice. Wordlessly, he sent an ice attack towards you, hoping to knock you out to remove the barrier around the bomb. Well he knew it’d know you out, he knew his ice side was powerful. So when you rushed from behind the glacier, sending a ball of light towards him, he was shocked to say the least, but still dodged it.

“If you haven’t figured out by now, your ice only helps me. Using ice attacks is useless, to defeat me, you’ve gotta use your fire side.”

Todoroki frowned, “I can defeat you with just ice, no matter how powerful you are.”

“Hm?”, you arched an eyebrow then shrugged, “Alright, sure.” You created a few more light balls just enough so they were surrounding you, “Say bye then”, you sent them all at once, controlling them to follow Todoroki like guiding missiles. He quickly created a cube like shape of ice around himself, the ice shattering into pieces leaving him unscathed except for a few scratched form the shards which pierced him.

A glacier, larger than the others before raced towards you, and you thought quickly, covering the space around you with light energy which melted all the ice.

“Your quirk relies on light doesn’t it, so what if you run out of it”, Todoroki pointed out, now the rooftop was encased with a thick layer of ice all the way around which was too much for you to melt through without wasting all the energy you had saved. “And even though ice helps keep your body cold, how much of it can you handle before your body starts to get frostbite. My body was made to be able to withstand these temperatures, but yours is made to withstand heat.”

 He could already see that you were shivering, your costume didn’t provide much warmth at all, since you simply assumed you would always be too hot rather than cold.

“No way am I letting you win”, you said through clenched teeth, if there was one thing you hated, it was losing. In your palms you held bits of light energy to keep you warm, but you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, you had to think and act quickly. Your eyes darted around the ice room, all that was there was you, Todoroki and the bomb. Of course! The bomb! The bomb was still covered with light energy. You grabbed onto the bomb, burning your hands in the process, but still managing to throw it at the ice, the heat melting through the ice to create a hole out. At that moment, you realised you had been baited. Todoroki knew you could withstand the heat of your own light energy better than he could and made it so you had no choice but to use the energy form there which got rid of the layer so he could get the bomb. You watched in horror as he reached towards the bomb and in panic, you sent one towards his hand which was badly aimed and went over his arm instead and into the ice walls.

You lunched forwards, even though you knew there was no way you could make it to him in time, as he touched the bomb, signalling the heroes win. Placing his left hand on the floor, everything was melted off. You were shivering from the cold, frost forming along your body. He took notice and felt just a bit bad, and got permission from all might to take you to the nurse’s office. After all, a hero’s role was to save.

You got on the bed, rubbing your arms to try and get warmth, recovery girl’s quirk couldn’t help you warm up since it wasn’t really an injury.

“Here, I’ll warm you up”, Todoroki stated bluntly holding out his left hand.

“R-right thanks”, you chattered, trying to fit both of your hands in his, which were extremely warm, but not too hot. After a few moments of awkward silence, with him staring at you, you let go. “Thanks for the help, but I think I can warm up myself from here on.”

“Alright L/n-san, but I have proven that I can defeat you with only my right side. I will not need my left side to defeat you.”

His words left you thinking for a while, he only required half his strength to take you out, which meant you still had miles to improve. When you got third in the quirk apprehension test, you thought you were pretty good, but you never noticed the difference in power between you and Todoroki till now. Training was definitely needed.

previous - masterlist - next

tagged: @dyna-m1ght​

#todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki x y/n #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki #todoroki shoto #bnha #mha #boku no academia #my hero academia

[daisiesforlacey]

clouds - chapter 2 : cirrus

Pair: Julie x alive!Luke

Summary: After her mother’s death, Julie Molina moved away from Hollywood, across the country, to Ithaca, New York. She’s left behind her two loves in life: her best friend, Luke, and her music. There, she finds new friends and enemies, new experiences and joys, she might even find herself. Every night, Luke calls Julie to talk about the clouds. But what if Luke is hiding something? 

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: angsty??? I mean we gotta move the story along soooo

Note: I started writing this and it got away from me! I think this series might be longer than originally intended, but that’s not a bad thing. I can’t wait to delve more into Alex, Reggie, and Carrie’s storylines, but for now, here’s this! Please please comment, like, reblog; feedback is always appreciated :)))

Masterlist

Taglist

--- 

The morning had been much chillier than the previous day. On their way to school, Julie and Flynn had bundled up in their favorite sweaters and scarves, along with matching thermoses of tea. Julie had tried to stuff her hair into a wool hat, but after failing miserably, she settled on tying her hair back into a ponytail. Flynn had offered to help style her curls that morning, but she had declined.

The ground next to the sidewalk was blue with frost and they could almost see their breath if they squinted hard enough. 

In Ithaca, the winter was dryer, she had found that her lips chapped more often and she seemed to constantly have the sniffles. In L.A, when it got colder, it mostly rained, snow was far and few between and was never terribly enjoyable; the second it hit the ground it would become this sort of grey sludge. One thing they both shared was the unpredictability. Seeing the sun one day did not often guarantee a warm week, which left Julie to keep an array of coats of different thicknesses. 

There weren’t too many clouds to see, if she tried hard enough, she might be able to make out a flying saucer. She shook her head, spaceships were too easy and basic; anything could be a UFO. 

As they walked and the sun slowly rose, they talked about their upcoming day; if Carrie was going to be tolerable, if they would be getting new music projects, and who was buying lunch.

Luckily for Julie, she could already feel the air warm up, unfortunately, the conversion had shifted to Luke.

“How is your friend? Liam, or whatever?” Flynn asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Luke,” Julie snorted and looked down at her hands, “He’s doing well, he didn’t see too many shapes yesterday, so our conversation was relatively short.” Flynn knew about their nightly calls, but Julie had left out most of the reason they happened. Flynn didn’t need to know how much she missed her friend, she didn’t want the other girl to feel inadequate. 

“It’s really cool that you guys still keep in touch, if all of my friendships drifted apart that nicely, Carrie…” Flynn drifted off into thought at the mention of Carrie. Contemplating Julie, frowned, she didn’t particularly like to think that she and Luke had drifted, but she supposed they had literally done just that. 

“Well when you have a history like Luke and I have, it’s impossible not to talk to him.” Julie didn’t mention that he seemed to be a part of her that was now missing, or that Luke had this sort of magnetism that drew anyone and everyone to him, or that when they wrote songs together she had felt more alive and seen than anything. 

Those things didn’t need saying, those things had been left in L.A. 

But in here she had Flynn and a small town and a family. 

A broken family, she thought. 

---

As Nick finished his guitar solo, his lacrosse buddies whooped and hollered in the small music room. 

It was smaller than the one back home, but just as welcoming. Cinder block walls had been covered with sound absorbers and music posters ranging from “hang in there” cats to major and minor scales to student made flyers, advertising the school dance coming up. 

Their mascot, a yellow and black cougar, had been painted on the wall by an art club some time ago. It was slightly lopsided and its snarling mouth looked more mangled, but the sentiment was there. 

Julie had zoned out long before Nick had started, staring at the chipped paint on the wall. She knew the second she walked up to the piano to play, she would freeze. No amount of mental preparation could prepare her to set her fingers on the ivory keys and play something, anything. 

“Okay, we have one last performance,” Her teacher said, “Julie.” 

The girl looked up slowly. She stumbled toward the piano with hesitant steps. She sat down with a sigh and opened the sheet music. Her blood was rushing and her head was pounding. The room seemed to blur and spin, but was also eerily still and quiet. 

She could feel the eyes of her classmates boring into her skull. As they watched her, she could guess what they were thinking, here we go again, I wonder if she’ll actually play this time, just get on with it. 

Julie knew that Flynn was trying to encourage her, even from where she was sitting, but she  couldn’t bring herself to look at the girl.

“Take your time,” Her teacher assured. 

Julie might take forever. 

She opened the case of the piano and grazed her fingertips on the keys. They were cold and unforbidding. The second she pressed one of the keys she knew that she would break.

Memories of her mother would come rushing back; every scraped knee, every hand holding in the parking lot, every crush whispered in secret, every night spent over the stove learning what spice goes in when, every uncontrollable fit of laughter. 

She would remember every Christmas and Easter that they would break out her Abuela’s Arroz Con Leche recipe, every concert they went to where they would scream lyrics until their throats were raw. 

Every failed test that her mother had stayed up late to help her study for, every flu shot where her mother still held her hand, no matter how old she got.

Every note written or melody sung would fill her mind. She didn’t know what would happen when it did, and she desperately didn’t want to find out. 

She stood up, “I’m sorry.”

Julie thought she heard Carrie say some snarky remark and that Flynn had retaliated, but she couldn’t have been sure before she was rushing out the door. 

After the school day, Flynn and her walked home as quickly as they could, sometimes sprinting. They needed to beat Julie’s father home after he picked up her brother, Carlos, up from his own school. She was praying that he hadn’t heard the news that she was out of the music program yet. 

She groaned as she saw his car already in the driveway

Flynn quickly hugged her, “It’s fine, he’ll understand.” She withdrew from the hug and held Julie at arms length with a sympathetic smile before they had to part. Flynn waved as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside. 

Julie took a sharp breath in before doing the same.

---

“So is ‘Clocks move faster / cause it’s all were after’ the first pre-chorus or the second pre-chorus?” Reggie ran his fingers through his hair, his nose scrunching, “Because wouldn’t it just make more sense to have the same pre-chorus on each verse?” 

The brunet’s bass was slung over his body as he rested his hands on the body of his guitar. He looked over to Luke, who was crouched over his lyrics. 

Luke shook his head , his air already dripping with sweat, “It’s the second pre-chorus, the first is ‘Clocks move forward / but we don’t get older.’” He semi, sang, strumming along on his guitar. “Changing it up adds movement, we don’t want to bore the listeners. It keeps the theme of staying young at heart.” 

Reggie nodded and plucked at his bass, testing out different rhythms. Moving his hands up the neck and over the strings, he finally settled on some semblance of a tune, repeating it over and over again. 

Alex joined him, adding a hit on each of the beats of the song. This gave the song a drive and pounding rhythm, working with Luke’s line of ‘Electric hammer to the heart.”

Luke stood up after scribbling something and added his guitar part over it, humming along with the melody, and soon they got well into the song, improvising along the way. There were still some wrong chords and off beats, but they had the bones of what they felt like would be a hit. 

Luke had gone from humming to singing, Reggie and Alex joining in. Luke felt his pulse quicken as he grinned. 

“‘We ain’t searchin’ for tomorrow’,” Alex sang, to which Reggie echoed, “‘Cause got all we need today’.”

Luke bopped along, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins.”

They looked back and forth to each other, knowing what was coming next.

Reggie was supposed to have a line to end the bridge, but it hadn’t been written yet. Luke had spent hours trying to come up with something, but it just didn’t click, every line he wrote either changed the meaning of the song or was too clumsy.

Luke sighed as they all stopped playing and he cast an apologetic gaze to the bassist, “I’ll get it. I promise.”

The boy in the flannel just shook his head, “No worries bro, we’ve done a lot in,” He checked the clock on the wall and his eyes widened comically. “Five hours…”

This mock practice session had started in Alex’s garage right after school after Luke had presented them with a song at lunch. 

“It’s totally us,” He had said, sliding to the table with a lunch tray and a scribbled mess of paper, beaming, “Totally mid 90’s. And look, you-,” He pointed to Alex who looked excited but skeptical, “Can start the bridge and you-,” Luke turned his attention to Reggie, “Can echo, ending with…” 

Luke trailed off, he didn’t have an ending line yet, he knew it had to be perfect. Everyone knows you can’t end a bridge without a call to action, something that stirred and emotion so deep that you couldn’t help but sing along. 

He sighed as his mouth twisted, “I don’t know, I haven’t found the perfect line yet.” He looked down at his chicken scratch, then slid the paper across to Alex, who examined it. 

“I like it, have you decided where the harmonies should go yet, or nah?” Alex flipped his blond  hair back, after adjusting it in his snapback. He was already trying to decide what type of beats he would do, where the drum fills would be, and what he should consult Reggie on. 

The makeshift band had a process: Luke would write a basic lyric and chord progression and then he would bring it to the guys. From there Alex would come up with the heartbeat of the song with Reggie. Reggie would work with Luke to see what melodies he should be playing and how he and Luke would bounce off of each other.

When they came together, the three friends would look at who sang what, harmonies, and fill in the gaps in the music. They worked like a well oiled machine

But lunch had been 7 hours ago and it was now 8 o’clock, well past when Luke should have been home. The boy jumped as he looked outside, saw it was dark, and cursed under his breath. He quickly put his guitar on his stand and grabbed his book bag, then ran out with a wave to Reggie and Alex.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, if I’m still alive,” he called before getting on his bike and going home. 

The air was damp and it had just rained, making the pavement slippery. Despite being almost winter, the weather was warm enough to where he only had to put on a shirt and jeans to be comfortable.

On his way to his house, Luke looked to the sky. He cataloged some shapes of dark clouds, moose, cat, spaceship, he thought. He chucked to himself, anything could be a space ship, it wasn’t creative enough, all the cloud had to be was somewhat circular. 

His mind drifted to Julie and what she would have to say about these clouds. She would probably smile, her adorable gap showing, and tell him all of the wonderful odd shapes she would see. 

“There, right there, a cat chasing a dog,” She would say, “No, no, scratch that, a dog chasing a cat chasing a pigeon. Wait sorry, a shark without a back fin. Or maybe a line of ducklings crossing a street.” Then she would narrow her eyes as the clouds shifted and formed new images, “Well now I don’t know what I see.” 

Luke would then look over and tell her that everything she saw was amazing, even if it was truly unremarkable. She was always able to see things he couldn’t, even if it was something as menial as a cloud. She could look at him and know exactly what was wrong no matter what; he didn’t know if she was truly super powered, or if he was super transparent. 

Which was why he was glad she couldn’t see him on their calls. 

She knew about Reggie and Alex, they had met before she left, but she didn’t know that they played music together. She didn’t know that Luke was writing songs with them like he used to with her. He didn’t want her to feel replaced.

And as far as she knew, his parents were completely fine with his music. They may have had little gripes here and there, but she thought that was the extent of it. 

As he arrived at his house and opened the front door, that wasn’t the case at all.

“Lucas Patterson!” His mother yelled from the kitchen, “Do you have any idea what time it is!”

Luke winced as she ran into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. He could see that the dining room table had already been cleared and the leftovers put away. 

“It is 8:14! Would you like to tell me why the hell you missed dinner again for the third time this week? No wait! I bet I know! Let me guess, you were at Alex’s!” Her eyes were steel. It wasn’t a question, they both knew the only thing that would keep him out at night would be music with the guys. 

He gripped the strap of his back pack before looking at the floor, his knuckles white. “I’m sorry Mom. I just lost track of time, you know how I get.”

Emily smoothed her brow with her fingers as her husband walked in from the kitchen. “At least tell me you did your homework.” 

Luke didn’t answer.

His mom threw the dish towel to the floor, “Luke we had a deal! You can keep playing your guitar and going to ‘band practice,’” She used air quotes, “As long as you did your homework before then and always made it home for dinner. Always! Your family and school work is important! I know you don’t think so, but as long as you live under our roof, you abide by our rules!”

He threw his hands up and scoffed, “I’m not going to stop playing music, it’s my life! And you can’t stop me! I am sorry if I miss a few family dinners a week, but isn’t that fine if it means I’m happy?” 

His mother looked at him like he had sprouted another head, “Son, I know it’s been hard ever since Julie left, and I know you miss her but--”

“But what Mom? There’s nothing I can do about it, she’s in New York! And the only thing keeping me connected to her is music, and right now, you don’t even let me have that.” Luke stormed through the living room into his room. 

He dropped his bag down with a thunk, and sat on his bed, smashing his head into a pillow and screaming. He regretted that he didn’t bring his guitar back, if only to take out his anger by shredding on volume 10. 

The day kept getting later, and while he didn’t like calling her while angry, he dialed Julie’s phone number. 

The phone rang a couple times before she picked up, “Hello, this is Her Majesty Queen Julie Molina, what is your concern peasant?” She said in a haughty voice, before her façade broke with a giggle.

“Well Your Highness, I have come to discuss today’s weather.” He replied, playing along, her voice instantly making him feel better.

“Today we have seen a couch, a baby, and many many trees.”

“I have also seen many trees; they are very common in the sky.” Luke laughed, “I may have also spotted a suitcase and an umbrella. Sadly my Queen, the rain made it quite hard to see too many shapes.”

Julie clicked her tongue, he could see her face now, her nose scrunched and her mouth down turned, “That is a downright shame. Is there any news to report?’”

Luke perked up at that and rushed to get the words out of his mouth, “Actually, yeah. I wrote a song, ‘Now or Never,’ and it’s actually not that bad. Except I can’t figure out this one line, and it’s been bugging me all day.” He huffed, “Do you wanna hear it?”

She replied just as giddy as he is, “Of course!”

The brunet then launched into singing an a cappella version of his song from memory, stopping here or there to say things such as, “A harmony would totally go here,” or “Add a little guitar riff and it’d be perfect.” 

He kept going until, “‘Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins’. And then of course another line, and then the chorus.” He was staring at his popcorn ceiling now, smiling like a kid in a candy shop. 

Julie paused, then said, “We’re the revolution that’s been singing in the rain.” 

“What?”

“That’s it, that’s your missing lyric.”

Luke froze, she really couldn’t get any more perfect.

“Queen Julie, you are a genius!” He jumped off of his bed to grab a scrap of paper off of his messy desk before writing down the lyric. “You songwriting genius! If you have stuff like that flowing through your brain, how aren’t you playing it?”

He didn’t mean to bring it up, it just sort of happened. But it was true, how could she be so good at writing and let it go to waste?

Julie cleared her throat, “Well actually--”

“You sang again? I knew it, I knew you would!” Luke cut her off.

“Well no,” She rushed out, he could already see her running her hand over her face in exasperation. He has to stop interrupting people. “I got kicked out of the music program. I haven’t played anything since I got here, and I couldn't either today. I guess that was the last straw, because my teacher called my dad and said that unless I could play something by the end of the week, I need to choose a new elective.”

They sat in silence. 

Luke played with his hands, knitting his fingers together and pulling them apart before an idea came to him, “What about your mom’s song. Not for class I mean! But, if just to sit down at your piano again and play something, what about that? She wrote it for you after all. And then maybe afterwards you’d be good to play for your class and boom! You’re Julie, songwriting pianist extraordinaire again!”

“I-I don’t know about that, Luke,” She swallowed. Right before her mom passed, they had written a song together, but she hasn’t even been able to look at it since she moved. If she sat down to play it, she’d be accepting all of those memories back. But then again, if she needed to sing anything it would be her mother’s song. They had taken a few months to write it, and Julie’s mom had completed it before…

“I mean maybe. I’ll see. I’ll try.” Julie nodded to herself and gave a determinant look to her wall. Tomorrow morning she would go to her garage and play her mother's song.

“You promise?” Luke asked tentatively. 

“I promise.”

“Alright. I guess I should go, it’s probably pretty late where you are. I’ll see you soon?”

Julie nodded, “See you soon.” Then hung up.

#jatp #Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp julie #julie molina #Luke patterson #Luke Patterson imagine #Jatp luke #Luke Patterson au #julie x luke #luke and julie #Willex #jatp flynn #Jatp fanfic #Jatp reggie #Jatp alex #jatp carrie #clouds fanfic #juke #jukebox

[thorinthehottotty]

Seven Kingdoms - Thorin

Based on an idea that @kibleedibleedoo sent me and has been very wonderful and patient about me writing this! Its really a wonderful idea, thank you so much for sending me it! I took some liberties with it, I hope you don't mind.

Your so good at writing im so jealous and i was hoping if i give you a premis you might be able to write a oneshot? Dont feel pressure to do so though i just felt like i needed to get this idea off my chest. So i had the idea of a courting ritual including 7 steps (representing the 7 kingdoms or something) the first is a hand made courting bead, the next 5 are sentimental gifts, and the last step is to wash each others hair (1 parent each as witnesses) and do a 2 strand braid (to represent your union) clasped with a bead the individuals parents' would have made upon their birth with their name and such. In my head Thorins one is not a dwarf so does not have a bead so all of the company are scrambling to help you craft a personal one as soon as the hear of your impending union and who will be your stand in father? It cant be anyone related to thorin as thats a confliction of interest, maybe bofur? I dunno Sorry this has been so long

The bickering and the fighting was giving you an enormous headache. The dwarves were all so near and dear to you that it made this part of the process so hard. With a deep breath, you stand and move toward the balcony, your favorite spot in all of Erebor.

Although it always made you glance out at the place where so many fell during the battle of the five armies, you found an odd peace din staring out at the now snow covered valley. Even now, big fat flakes were falling slowly to the ground in a way that calmed you.

A heavy weight drifted around your shoulders, you glance over to see Bofur smiling warmly at you as he draped a coat about you. "What's this?" He murmurs. "My future queen wandering outdoors without a coat?" You beam back at him with chilled cheeks.

"Sorry, all of the bickering is getting on my nerves. Thank you for the coat, Bo." The dwarf beams at you and matches you posture, leaning against the cold stone to gaze out at the land below.

"They all mean well, lass."

"Oh, I know that," you sigh. "I really appreciate all of you supporting Thorin and I. It's just a lot, you know?" This seemed to mimick the conversation you tended to have on repeat with your future husband. The entire union seemed to be on stand still for one issue Thorin hadn't mentioned. It was hard enough to get him to explain the rules of courting and you ended up having to go ask Balin.

Lo and behold, there were seven steps to courting to represent the seven dwarven kingdoms. The braiding was the first and most obvious step. Something you'd learned and tripped over accepting his blunt asking. Literally. In your defense, all of the docks in Laketown seemed as though they were forever made of ice. But you were very eager to accept.

One thing that you were not expecting, was the fact that dwarves apparently did not have proposals. So when you asked Balin about it, he happen to tell you that you were only one gift away from nearly being married! Each sentimental gift that Thorin took his time to make you himself (and the ones you'd given him without realizing the connotations) was the deepening of your relationship.

His first gift, while he was in his dragon sickness, was one of his mother's necklaces. Something delicate and beautiful. It was eligant. He ahad to wait for you to give him something in return. With each gift he gave you, you scrambled to find something in return, only to discover after that you were very forward in your relationship.

The last step was the only one left to be accomplished now, just one short month after the battle. It had much of the company stumped.

After this, your union to the king would be complete. You would be technically married until your wedding ceremony that he wasn't keen on waiting for his sister to arrive with the rest of his people from the Ered Luin. The dwarf king didn't want to wait. He claimed he'd waited long enough for you, but the logistics of tradition were a bit harsh.

To complete the union, you would have to wash your hair with at least one parent for each of you present. His mother was long gone and his father was still missing, easy enough, Balin would take over. Your parents? Currently in your home dimension with no idea where you were or what you were doing. Kind of hard to do. On top of all of this, in your fiancé's culture, your parents would have made a bead with your name and the family crest so you can give it to Thorin. The company had been tearing their hair out for weeks trying to decide. They still were.

It couldn't be either of his nephews. Not Balin or Dwalin. They were too closely related and it would be a conflict of interest. So that still left quite a few.

"You're handling it all with more fire than the forges," Bofur muses. "Thorin is lucky to have such a determined woman by his side."

"Daw, thanks," you reply, leaning into nudge his side with your hip. "I'd do anything to be with him. Even if it means suffering through you all fighting over me." Bofur chuckles.

"You're so sick of us you've fled into the icy tundra just to escape!" He cries dramatically. He knew how much you dreaded the cold. But he didn't know just how lovely it was for you to crawl into Thorin's bed after standing in the chilly air.

You smile at your friend. "Bo, will you be my surrogate father?" You finally ask. Shock takes his face, then pride.

"It would be my honor and my pleasure, Y/N." You launch forward to hug your dear friend.

...

You lean back into the inviting lips on your neck, shivering under the sensual kisses. "You gotta stop," you plead. You hear the acknowledging rumble Thorin gives but he doesn't stop from delivering hot kisses to the over-sensitive skin of your neck.

You could feel the quickening of your own breath as his arms tightened around you, holding you captive. You should have known he was planning an attack on you when he invited you over to double check his work. His work was always flawless. Now his eager and heady touches were making you all too aware of the tenting of his trousers.

"We can't," you manage to whimper as he begins to pull the ties of your dress loose. His mouth ascends slowly to your ear as your body molds to his.

"I've waited far too long to have you as is." His voice brushing over your ear like black velvet has you pushing your hips into his eagerly. He groans and nips your ear as a reward for your crumbling reserve. Somehow, these secretive scuffles were so addictive and with the approaching dates, you felt helpless to his advances.

He turns you about and pushes you by your hips to slide onto the desk behind you. "Tomorrow evening we'll be united in marriage," you try to argue weakly as he drags the shoulder of your dress down.

Those blue eyes twinkle wickedly and he leans in to go back to attacking your shoulder with his mouth. Damn him. You feel the tugging of your skirts. He's pulling them up your legs enough to settle his hips against yours.

With his mouth on your shoulder, lapping at skin, one of his hands drags up your thigh. He's drawing shapes with his fingertips and it's so distracting you don't wonder about his other hand until it's squeezing a breast and your moaning.

"You bastard," you manage to call. You feel his teeth on you as he chuckles. He doesn't have time to respond because the door is thrown open and you both whip around.

"Unhand my daughter!" Bofur calls, his brother and cousin storming in behind him eagerly. Thorin is pulling your skirts down as your desperately trying to pull your top together.

You'd long since regretted asking Bofur to be your father. He was taking the role much more seriously than you expect. He always ensured you two weren't alone for too long.

"Bofur! You're not actually my dad!" You hiss as he pulls you from the desk. Thorin glowers, unhappy.

"You are still required to knock at the king's chambers," he rumbles.

"Tomorrow, I won't have to. Now come along. Your curfew is up." You snag a kiss from the king who glowers as your dragged away.

Tomorrow.

...

The moment you both met in the baths, the world stilled. All anxiety flooded from you as you make your way to your fiancé. He smiled warmly at you, already half naked. Bofur leads you to the king, beaming brightly, dressed in only your slip. It wasn't uncommon for you both to be naked during the ceremony, but given your background, the dwarves agreed this wouldn't be a necessity.

Dwalin's eyes look a bit glassy as Thorin leads you toward a large pool, the both of you sinking into easily. This whole thing felt so relaxing, with the candles and the oils set about, it was personal and cozy.

Thorin washed braided your hair first, murmuring vows softly in Khuzdul.

He guided you to sink into the water. You never imagined his big hands could be so gentle, but it was so soothing you felt as if you could drift to sleep as he carefully washed your hair. Then he began to rub a sweet smelling oil into your hair. The final braid, a two strand braid for the representation of the union.

You pressed against and held each other as the silence of your friends, the ones only their to bear witness, had you forgetting the two dwarves standing in the steam.

When you felt the beads fall against you, Thorin leaned down to kiss you firmly, nuzzling you in the process. "Amrâlimê," he murmurs.

And you reach for him as he sinks toward the water, allowing you to wash and braid his hair. You did everything slowly, from the soft words that you were careful to pronounce (Bofur insisted they teach you) to the delicate brushing of his hair.

The only sounds were your echoing voice and the gentle splashing of water. Finally, you clasp the gold beads made for you by the company into his hair. He pauses to admire your name etched into them, scales carved beneath them in representation of the journey you were discovered on. Thorin smiles when you press forward and kiss his lips. "My husband," you promise.

"My wife," he replies. And he pulls you with a squeal and a splash into the hot bath water and his lap, kissing you eagerly.

"I think that's our cue to leave."

"Aye. Absolutely."

You barely noticed them leave as the two of you pressed closer. You could feel how sacred the union was. This felt so incredibly right that you couldn't think of anything but kissing your new husband.

"So do you think you can wait for your sister to-" cue the splashing water of the King dragging your slip off and tossing it into the water far away. It hits with a slap.

"Come here, yasîth."

Taglist: @tomisbaeholland @fizzyxcustard @dabisburntnut @queenofmankind @dumbassunderthemountain @saviorsong

#thorin imagine #thorin thursday #thorin fanfiction #thorin durin #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #king thorin #bofur #bofur the dwarf #forgot to tag #requested

[thecrimsonvalley]

RDR Secret Cupid - “For my next trick...”

This one goes out to you @smithandrogers!  I’m your backup cupid for the @rdrsecretcupid2020 and I really hope you’ll enjoy the text, it was super fun to get to write these two dorks <3  ~~~ There were many people he would consider when the phrase “skulking off” came up around the camp. In fact, Arthur was well aware that he himself was one of these individuals, though his position as golden boy, adoptive son and all those other lovely phrases gave him quite the leeway to come and go as he pleased. One of the few individuals for who he would not use this word was Josiah. It was not so much the action of him taking his leave or moving from camp to get a breather. No it was the word “skulking off” that did not suit this well dressed gentleman. A person of his composure did not “skulk”: they “took their leave”, “withdrew”, “removed themselves” or whatever other fancy word they could possibly come up with. No matter which one, he had seen the other man move away from the camp site and, after a short debate, he himself had followed.

Arthur found no particular shame in confessing he enjoyed Josiah's company. There had been many, both men and women, whose presence he had found a great deal of enjoyment in yet he could never help himself from placing an individual scale onto it. While some were soft and gentle, requiring a great deal of attention others blew through his life like a hurricane and every encounter left him with the feeling he had just been ran over by several trains. For the time being he had not managed to figure just where this man was supposed to be categorised. 

Stepping into a clearing between the trees, his eyes set onto the back of the other man. With a smile he acknowledged that this place was certainly a neat little spot for some brief alone time. The trees gave enough shade, cutting off any view from the main camp yet their roots had not shot up enough through the ground to render it completely unusable. Thought the thought felt quite out of place, Arthur could not help but to consider that this would be an almost idealistic place for a little outing, if one was so inclined.     Almost as if Josiah had sensed his presence, the man spun around, the gesture almost unnaturally smooth. The only one he had seen coming even close had been the manners in which Hosea had held himself in younger years when retelling his endeavours during his short acting career. It was either a scene thing or a conman thing, neither of which he himself possessed. A smile played over the other man's lips as he gave a light bowing motion.      “If it isn't Arthur out for a stroll” Josiah said, his voice as melodic as ever “what a pleasured encounter!” “Just thought I ought to make sure ya don't get eaten by a bear or what not.”  He heard Josiah give a laughter combined with the low line of “perish the thought” as he once more turned. By now Arthur could see that he had been carrying along one of his bags, full of what he had never really figured out. It was a private matter, outlaws or not it was not in his nature to rummage through the belongings of anybody in camp. “Now that you're here” came Josiah's cheerful voice “you might as well be my test audience.” “Ya sure you wouldn't rather have me fetch Jack? Or Sean?” Arthur muttered, adding on a grumble “then again, we'd all have to listen to that idiot yap his mouth off about faes and what not!” “Let's not spoil the act before you've seen it.” There was a bit of an accusing tone in Josiah's way of speaking and, despite his own pride taking a little bit of a turn, Arthur did sit down in the grass. Sure, he had enjoyed some of those tricks, even though he couldn't for his life figure out of what use they were. Perhaps he had lost some touch with his sense of wonder and whimsy; a sentiment he felt most strongly to be the truth. “Pick a card.” Choking back a laughter, Arthur bit down onto the line of how it was the oldest trick in the book and instead did as he was told. Hovering his hand above the outstretched deck, he took a small bit of amusement out of almost pinching one of the cards before shaking his head and once more “contemplating” which one he should settle on. Throwing a glance at Josiah, he was rather surprised that the other man did not appear to be bothered at all by his jest, just patiently holding onto the cards with that charming smile on his lips. Saving his own mind before it went wandering, Arthur finally tugged one out. “Don't show me” Josiah continued, turning his face rather dramatically “memorise the number and colour!” With a shrug of the shoulder, Arthur did as told before sliding the card back into the deck. It was quite hard to pretend like he did not know how this would end but he patiently waited through the other man shuffling the deck about. With a snarky sentence resting onto his tongue, he felt a light pinch of surprise as he watched Josiah give the deck a sharp slap, the cards seemingly vanishing from out of his hands. “Well good look finding it now” Arthur muttered, though he was quickly silenced with a “shhh, it's not done yet” from the other man. “Pray tell, Mr Morgan, is this your card?” Josiah's hand movement was as flowing as water as he reached over towards the side of his face, brushing against his cheek, sending shivers down his entire body. With all his might, Arthur tried to pretend like it had not bothered him, all the while attempting to get a read on the other man. Was the smirk an invite? A mere gesture of amusement because he had been caught off guard? As the card was flashed before his eyes he gave a grunt, pushing the other man's hand away. “Yeah, yeah, that's the right one, you've done it a thousand times.” “You offend me Mr Morgan” Josiah responded, dramatically pushing his hand towards his chest “it seems I have to really floor you with the next one!” “Really? Ya gotta work on that originality ya know? What ya gonna do, pull a crow out of yer sleeve? Never ending handkerchiefs?” It did feel like a tiny victory as he watched Josiah give a little frown, his fingers sliding up to twirl through his dark curls and stroke down his moustache. It was a gesture that Arthur found as fascinating as it was charming. Then again there was a lot of things he found absolutely infatuating about this man that came and went as he pleased. He would be damned if he could not confess, at least to himself, that he found him alluring in all the right ways. “Well Arthur, you've forced my hand” Josiah said, straightening his back “I shall have to perform the act of a lifetime!” “Finally something original then.” “So it shall be.” Half by half expecting the other man to turn about, Arthur felt a tad dumbfounded as he watched Josiah instead step up in front of him, straightening his sleeves in that manner that only a skilled con artist could. It was a terrible gesture: not for its performance itself but rather for how it made his heart make a leap in his chest. He was not a man used to being wooed, it was him who did that to others but Josiah, this terribly wonderful man, he certainly had at least a hint of power to do so. “I shall now ask a person in my audience to close their eyes.” “Well now, how's that gonna impress anyone?” Arthur chuckled. “Patience, Mr Morgan, patience.” Shrugging his shoulders, he did as told, though the mere fact of sitting there, hands rested over his own knees and heart still beating like a drum gave him an awful strange sensation. He could hear the other man move about, the ruffling of shirt sleeves and the steps in the soft grass heightened by his lack of sight. Over it all was the low beat of his own pulse, his inner voice screeching while outwards showing nothing. The gentle brush of Josiah's fingers came against his cheek and Arthur thanked his lucky star that he had perfected the art of remaining stationary. While still trying to figure the trick out, a vain attempt from his side to remain one step ahead of his companion, he felt the sudden warm sensation of a pair of lips upon his own. Almost choking on his own breath, Arthur quickly opened his eyes, looking right into the soft yet oh so amused gaze of the other man. “You shall now fall hopelessly in love with me.” No matter how much he wished to say something, be it protest or agreement, Arthur felt his throat choking up, rendering him speechless. He did observe how the other man seemed to tense for a few seconds, perhaps awaiting some sort of outburst or reaction yet when none came, Josiah instead gave an amused “oh my, is it already taking effect?”. This simple sentence, dripping with a teasing tone, finally shook him back into gear. With a mix of wishing to defend his own selfish pride and not be made a fool of, Arthur reached his hands out, grasping onto the coat of the other man and with a swift movement he managed to tug him down, trying his best to soften the fall. Despite how much his thoughts told him to “pay back in kind” he was none too keen on accidentally hurting the now laughing man in the process. To wrestle Josiah down onto the ground, pinning his hands onto the grass, was barely a sport at all. Brutal strength was his own talent and one he knew that few in camp could match him with. Despite how much he had wished for it to be a move to show power or confidence, Arthur could not help but to let his lips crack up into a smile upon hearing the amused chuckle from the man before him. “Yes, indeed, I would say it is working just as it should.”  

#fanfiction #rdr2 #Arthur Morgan #Josiah trelawny #Morlawny #Arthur x Josiah #RDRSecretCupid2020 #these two dorks I can't even #I really hope you enjoy it!

[chaoticneutralwriter]

17; #1013Gift

In which it’s a very special someone’s birthday and you don’t think you had the words to describe how much you love him

Idol!Jimin x Staff!Fan!Reader

word count: 5.2k

genre: fluff, romance, fluff, comedy, fluff, oneshot, established relationship

A/N: It’s a best boi’s birthday and I gotta show some love because he makes me feel soft in my frozen heart :(( the world is whipped for Jimin. Happy birthday to the sweetest, talented, most handsome, humble, caring fairy/angel in the world. Thank you for being our singer and I only wish all the happiness and health to you forever. Now let me kiss your cheekies.

“Y/N-ssi! Please get the candles!”

“Yes!” You answer back, scurrying to grab the pack on the table as well as the additional matches that came with the order. You run into the artist room wherein you find most of the staff members setting up the rich chocolate cake on the coffee table, pinning the little custom toppers that had cute and silly pictures Jimin had took along with a big ‘Happy Birthday’ edible plaque in the middle. You hand off the candles, each of which are shaped into the numbers two and four before turning to busy yourself with setting up other things.

The boys will be coming off stage soon from their encore and after giving back their mics, they would gather in this room to cool off, take post-concert pictures for Twitter and change to head back to their hotel for the night. At least, that’s what they would usually do but today there is an additional event on the list.

Today is Jimin’s 24th birthday.

Because of the special occasion, it seems like everyone and everything is supercharged with extra energy and excitement, including yourself. The smile had yet to leave your face ever since the beginning of the day in spite of already wishing Jimin a happy birthday through Kakao (right at midnight!) and in person albeit briefly before he was swept away for rehearsals and of course the concert. And boy what a concert that was. The tension was always high for a BTS show but this time around, you felt like it was even higher which should be impossible but you shouldn't be surprised, it’s the boys and proving people wrong is kind of their specialty now. Of course the fans didn’t disappoint either, matching the boys' energy level right up until the end. You can still hear the chorus of them singing happy birthday to Jimin echoing through the stadium and the scale of it had you, for lack of better words, really shook.

It made you think how it must feel if you were on the receiving end of all that love and support.

So by the time the concert is drawing to a close, you had worked up the feeling of longing in your chest to really sit down and spend time with Jimin properly. Your hand unconsciously goes into the pocket of your official tour pullover, fiddling with the small box hidden inside. The morning had been so hectic that you didn’t have the time to give Jimin your gift and you were hoping now that the show is done, you’ll be able to have a better chance. But evidently, the birthday boy was quite popular right now.

“Oh, they’re coming!” Someone announces and with those words, a flurry of things are set into motion. The candles get lit, someone grabs the camcorder and stays by the doorway on standby, and then suddenly your vision is obscured by the large bouquet of flowers shoved into your arms. You splutter, taken off guard for a second before you too get into your position just as the lights are shut off, leaving only the small glow of the candles to burn brightly.

There’s a moment of silence, and then a commotion of noises growing louder until it finally reaches the room. When the door clicks open…

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Park Jimin! Happy birthday to you!”

It was a mess of voices, all singing together in various tones but the volume rising above everyone’s was probably a mixture of Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook (off-key but still harmonious in some bizarre way that you can’t help but pause in your own singing to wheeze). Jimin’s got a big smile on his face as he approaches the awaiting cake, eyes creasing until they practically disappear as he presses his hands together in a brief moment of making a wish before blowing out the candles —

With his nose.

You really love this man.

You’re actually thankful now that you have the large bouquet in your arms because now you can hide your face that is bursting with muffled laughter. The round of applause also helped too.

“Thank you everyone, all the staff, the members, the fans who organized so many amazing events for my birthday. I’m so thankful to have you all here to celebrate this special day with me.” Jimin says, a hand placed over his heart like he’s about to burst from all the feelings inside of him. “Please continue to take care of me!” He finishes with a deep bow and everyone cheers.

You were mid-clapping when you feel someone gently nudge you on your shoulder. Glancing back, you meet the eyes of one of the staff members who gestures with her chin to the flowers still in your arms. Oh!

Your face grows hot as you weave your way through the bodies of people to get to the centre where Jimin is. His back was towards you as he accepts a gift bag from Hoseok so you tentatively try to get his attention. Luckily for you, you can always count on one of the members to help you out.

“Hyung, Y/N-noona is behind you.” Jungkook calls from his seat on the black couch, already fork deep in the cake.

At that, Jimin whips around, stepping back slightly as he too gets taken aback at how large the bouquet is in your arms. Nevertheless, he beams at you.

“Noona what’s happening here?” He giggles, manoeuvring the gift bag so it slid lower onto his forearm, freeing his hands.

“These are from your dad.” You supply, lifting up the assortment of flowers and nearly breaking your wrist at how heavy they were.

“Aish, I swear he gets bigger ones each year.” You hear him jokingly say. You smile, about to tell him that it’s only because he really loves his precious son but your thoughts are short-circuited when you feel his hand wrap around your wrists, tugging you forward until you were almost to his chest, the bouquet being the only thing standing in between you. You peer up with wide eyes and though you’re barely able to see above the colourful flora, you still make out the sly grin pulling back Jimin’s full lips. “But he’s managed to find such a pretty flower that I’m willing to let it slide.”

Off to the side, you hear coughing, loud and forced and your blush deepens as you try to shrink yourself to hide behind the bouquet, even as your heart is doing backflips in your sternum.

“Yah, I could’ve died eating this cake and then what would we have done?” Seokjin complains though he’s only half serious.

“Oh hyung, don’t be dramatic.” Jimin rebuttals, taking the flowers off of your hands, but still keeping a hold on you as he shuffles to one of the couches. “And that’s my cake you’re eating! I still haven’t had a bite of it yet!” You have no choice but to follow, perching yourself on the armrest of the couch even when Jimin tries to sneakily tug you onto his lap. Once he’s settled, he takes the time to open the little card attached to the pick in the bouquet, about to read it when he realizes that it was all in English.

“Noona can you tell me what this says? I can only make out a few words.” He hands the card to you and you hesitate for a moment, not really sure if you should intrude on such a private thing but with one quick glance around the room, Namjoon's nowhere to be found. Your eyes catch Jimin's though and he's smiling up at you and it's only then that you feel like you're given the okay to read it.

Taking the card from his grasp you scan over the words and can't help the smile that blooms on your lips as you translate, “To my precious son, I wish you a happy birthday where you may always be happy and healthy. Take care of yourself, I love you very much, from your father.”

You watch fondly as his face changes in the subtlest of ways, growing softer as he takes in the words written before his lips break into another beautiful smile again once he’s finished.

“Wow, my dad really is such a romantic.” Jimin laughs breathily.

“Yeah, you would have to get that side of you from somewhere Jimin-ie.” Namjoon comments, now fully changed into his own clothes. When Jimin opens his mouth to protest, Taehyung takes the time to swoop in and deliver a forkful of cake into his mouth, effectively stopping him. You hold back a giggle as he pouts but chews anyways. The rest of the guys wander off one by one to go change and gather their things to set off back to the hotel. Jimin continues to lounge on the couch, slowly chipping away at his cake and you’re content to watch him.

“Noona, you should try this cake, it’s really good.” He says, trying to scoop up a piece to offer to you.

You shake your head. “No it’s okay, it’s your cake after all. You have your fill.”

“But I want to feed you~”

You splutter, feeling warm again and the whiney way in which he says it makes it almost impossible to resist. You suppose you can take a bite…but you really should be saving your appetite for dinner tonight… Oh heck this is Jimin, the birthday boy, who are you to say no —

“If you’re going to eat a piece, make sure it’s not the part where he blew his nose all over it.” Hoseok interjects as he casually saunters over to pick up his kermit duffle bag from one of the seats.

“Ah hyung!” Jimin exclaims petulantly, whipping his head to face the dancer and you bite back a snort, watching as his ears and the back of his neck turn crimson. “I would nev—I didn’t do such a thing! When did I — ?! Noona, don’t listen to him.”

“Wah this guy; she was in the same room as us when you blew out your candles that way! What are you saying, ‘I never did such a thing?!’” You hear Seokjin practically announce to the world and you see him across the room while dramatically pointing an accusing finger at Jimin.

That finally pushes a wheezing chuckle past your lips as you bend over slightly in hopes of concealing it but Jimin hears it all the same. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, looking a lot like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. You compose yourself, turning back to give him a warm smile.

“It’s okay Jimin-ah, I still love you.”

Immediately a chorus of ooh’s go off around the room before it escalates to straight up whoops and hollers (you think you hear Yoongi screeching in the mix, yelling for everyone to start heading for the vans). It does nothing to calm the redness of Jimin’s ears so he all but curls in on himself, ducking his head into his hands as he lets out his own yell of embarrassment. You finally throw your head back and laugh aloud, can’t stand the group’s antics anymore as you get up from your seat.

“C’mon Jimin, go get change so you can go back to the hotel to rest and continue celebrating.” You encourage, trying to coax him with a few gentle pats on his head. He’s dyed his hair to a rich pink that borderlines on being magenta and despite his constant dye jobs, it’s still silky to the touch. You pull away before you get lost in wanting to stay and stroke his hair forever. After a few more minutes of coaxing, Jimin eventually drags himself out of his hole of embarrassment to change out of the concert t-shirt he was given to wear for the encore, coming out with one of his own shirts and a slightly baggy zip-up hoodie.

“You should come by my room for dinner noona.” Jimin suggests, hauling his bag over his shoulder as you two walk towards the hall leading towards the garage.

“I thought your members wanted to get together and drink a little for your birthday.” You say, stopping in your tracks.

“It’s just a few drinks to unwind and celebrate another successful concert, they won’t be long.”

You throw a look at him, tilting your head but can’t help smiling softly. “Don’t worry about me.” You reassure, taking his hand and squeezing when he goes to protest again. “Relax and enjoy your time with them freely. Besides, I still have to help around here a little bit more before leaving.”

You watch him chew his bottom lip and you feel the urge to reach up and stop him. So in a spurt of courage, you lean up to brush your lips to his cheeks but miscalculate in your hesitancy and instead, land one on the corner of his chin. It still does the trick in surprising him, wide eyes blinking down at you as you duck away in shyness.

“I-I’ll text you okay?”

Jimin reluctantly agrees with a mumble but not wanting to let you go just yet, pulls you into his arms. You’re more than happy to oblige as he rocks the both of you in place, taking in each other’s warmth as you bury your head into his shirt that still has the barest hints of his cologne on. Every once in a while you feel him press soft kisses on the crown of your head that causes you to involuntarily squeeze your arms tighter around him, refusing to look up at him like a knee jerk reaction from an overload of affection. You hear him giggle above you and then suddenly you’re assaulted by a barrage of kisses, Jimin making sure to smack his lips loudly each time he makes contact until you squeal and leap out of his arms, face boiling hot.

“G-Get going! They’re all w-waiting for you! I’ll let you know when I’m at the hotel okay? Love you, gotta go bye!” You say it all in one breath, turning hurriedly to scurry off but then screech to a halt when you remembered; his gift! So you race back almost shame-faced, eyes refusing to meet Jimin’s so all you hear is a noise of confusion but you grab his hand and shove the small black box into it before pivoting so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, running all the way back to the waiting room to help pack away any remaining things that might need to be brought back to the hotel as well as clean up.

The last thing you hear is Jimin’s laugh echoing down the hall, followed by an equally loud ‘love you too!’

-

It’s midnight by the time you finally step foot into the hotel. You and the staff members have packed away most of the luggage trunks that contain a plethora of stage outfits, cosmetics and other knick knacks that was a part of the concert. You all also took advantage of the catering leftovers, some taking food for when everyone needs to be up early and already on the go with no time for morning room service.

During the time you worked to clean up, Jimin had been messaging you through Kakao, asking how you were doing and if you’ll be on your way soon, all of which you reply, telling him that you will be and reminding him that he should be enjoying his dinner and drinks with his members. It’s been a good while since then, the singer becoming uncharacteristically quiet but you can only attribute that to him taking up on your advice or that he must’ve headed off to bed early after a belly full of good food, drinks and being dead tired from doing a concert.

So you’re surprised when your messenger goes off as you’re on your way to your floor and when you pull out your phone to check, the name that pops up is Jimin’s.

“Noonaaaaa, are youh ere yet???? TTT“

“I miss youuu TT please hurryy backkk TTT”

You snort, taking the time to reply back to him and wondering to yourself if there was any possible way that Jimin is currently very tipsy right now (something you think is rather impossible, given how much the boy drinks but even then, he looks and acts fairly sober) for him to be texting this way.

“Yes, I’m on my way to my room. Did you eat well? What are you doing still up?”

“Yess I ate a lot ^^ but I miss youu moree TT

Come over to my room pleaese~~? I’m lonely”

A character sticker pops up under the message, expressing big, round puppy eyes that you can’t say no to.

So you don’t.

“hh okay, I’ll come over just for a bit alright?”

“Yayyy!!!! I’ll wait for you~~~ <3”

A giggle escapes you before you hit the elevator button to close the door and push the appropriate floor the boys were on. Once it reaches with a ding, you head out down the hall, past doors until you finally come to the right one and after ringing the doorbell once, it flings open and you’re engulfed in a tight embrace.

“Noonaaaa~!” Jimin whines, making an effort to wrap himself around you like a koala bear. “I miss you~~”

“We just saw each other not too long ago Jimin-ah.” You laugh breathlessly, straining from his weight even though you’re putting back as much effort into the hug.

“That’s too long ago….” He murmurs into your hair. You chuckle, patting him on the head as he continues to smother you but choke out a squeak when he suddenly lifts you and shuffles the both of you into his room. He does well in balance for the most part, to the point where you’re baffled but like your thoughts had jinxed it, his foot catches mid-step and you get deposited onto the couch a lot less gracefully than what Jimin had intended. You release an ‘oof’ as your back hits the cushions and Jimin barely has any time to keep his weight from crushing you, bracing his hands on either side of you to do so.

“Oh my God noona, are you okay? I didn’t mean to drop you.” He’s apologizing between embarrassed giggles and find yourself smiling and giggling along with him.

“It’s okay.” You assure, voice slightly muffled into his shoulder before jokingly asking. “Are you drunk?”

He pulls back if only to give you a greasy grin, “If you mean on your love, then yes.”

You turn away with a snort and when you feel like that wasn’t enough, you bring a hand up to hide half of your face while using the other to give a small shove on his chest. He gets off of you with a laugh, squeaking as he heads off into another part of the room. After taking the time to recover, you finally take notice of the coffee table in front of you that’s laid out with various plates of fruits, pastries and the half eaten cake Jimin received earlier. Your eyes naturally turn to where Jimin’s back is facing you, busying himself at a round dining table that’s been pushed to the far corner littered with white porcelain plates of dinner, multiple glasses and champagne bottles; hints of the members being here earlier. It seems like they had a good time.

“Did you eat yet noona?”

“Ah, I had a bit to eat before leaving.” You answer, sinking comfortably back into your seat as you continue to watch Jimin. He strides languidly from the table to the other side of the room near the mini fridge, a bottle of champagne in his hand and when your eyes travel to his destination, you spy the two additional flute glasses that he automatically reaches for. You tilt your head in disbelief though a smile creeps onto your lips all the same; you honestly shouldn’t be surprised at this point. No sooner, Jimin settles down beside you, placing the two glasses onto the table before he goes to uncork the bottle.

“You should eat more, there’s plenty of food left still. The hyungs all went a little crazy with the room service.” He says that but sloshes the alcohol he’s pouring into his glass, splashing some of it onto the plate of strawberries. You try not to let out a laugh, however the strong exhale through your nose gives you away anyways.

“Don’t laugh.” Jimin scolds playfully, lowering his tone so that it sounded more nasally and from the base of his throat.

“Yes, Jimin-ssi.” You smile, taking the glass he offers you and when he grabs his own, you raise yours in cheers. “Happy birthday to Jimin-ah.”

“Thank you jagiya~” He coos back, clinking his glass to yours before he turns away out of respect to down it in one go. You’re left blinking by yourself as you, at most, take a hearty sip of yours. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him do that but it still leaves you very awestruck and…. A little afraid.

When he finishes, Jimin throws his head back, sighing out loudly in satisfaction as he ruffles his hair, smile never leaving his plush lips. You find yourself having the same problem as you watch him practically radiate joy from every fibre of his being, placing your glass down to reach for a piece of fruit. You both fall into quiet conversations about your day, the gifts he got, the projects he’s seen on Twitter for his birthday, funny things that happened during the day, conversations with his members — all the little things. You try your best to indulge in Jimin’s drinking but find very quickly that it’s best to sit that one out as you’re already feeling quite the buzz by the third glass, any more and Jimin would probably be the one to carry you to bed.

“How was celebrating your birthday during a concert?”

The singer’s smile widen (if that’s even possible) until his eyes crease, lolling his head so that it rests on the back of the couch as he replies, “It was amazing. It’s not the first time I’ve celebrated my birthday on tour but every time it’s always special because it makes me realize that no matter where I am, there’s always so many people who love and cherish me; ARMY, the members, the staff and you. You’re the ones who make it special even when I might think my birthday is not all that special.”

“What are you saying…without your birthday you wouldn’t exist…” You scold in a mumble, mouth stuffed with a pineapple wedge. “And that would suck…”

Your comment causes Jimin to giggle melodically, reaching over as if to pinch your cheek but you deflect, ducking away like a cat who doesn’t want to be petted. It makes him want to tease you more but he lets it go for now.

“I’m just a little sad that my family couldn’t make it to the show this time around…” Jimin continues with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I would’ve love to have dinner with them and introduced you…”

Your eyes widen a fraction at the confession, heart speeding up at the thought of meeting Jimin’s family. In the time that you’ve been dating Jimin, he very seldom lets anyone interact with the people he cherishes most (friend or family). He’s scarily a good judge of character, even if he had only spoken two words to someone he just met. Jimin’s always polite and friendly by nature of course, but he’s someone who doesn’t accept just anyone into his circle of friends. So for him to announce that he wants you to meet his family….

You feel honoured as you break out into a cold sweat.

“Jagiya relax.” Jimin giggles, taking a hold of your hand, his face turned towards you now to notice your quiet panic. “I’m just getting ahead of myself… But I really do want you to meet them, and when you do, I’m positive they’ll love you.”

The sincerity of his words makes your heart speed up for an entirely different reason now, and you find it hard to look away from the soft smile he’s giving you — not when he seems to look at you like you’re the entire universe when his eyes are the ones that glisten like he holds the universe in them. You’re smitten really, at how easily Jimin had washed away all your worries with simple touches and glances like this and it just makes you love him all the more.

“You think so…?” You don’t mean to whisper, but you feel like anything louder would disrupt this intimate moment you’re sharing. You feel him squeeze your hand gently, the sweetest of smile adorning his lips, setting his face aglow.

“I know so.”

His voice comes out in a much softer tone, huskier around the edges as he seems to share the same sentiment as you. Jimin’s eyes remain fixated on you, drinking your image in like it’s the first time he’s seen something so mesmerizing and for that, you can’t help but to steadily grow self-conscious. Before you’re able to drop your gaze from the intensity, he sighs out.

“God, I really want to kiss you right now noona.”

Your breath hitches; the way he says it sounds like he’s been holding back for quite some time, admitting only now because he can’t stand it for much longer. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you shouldn’t be the one to talk because suddenly, you feel a rush of adrenaline that spurs you on to do something you’d probably chicken out halfway if you were sober.

“Close your eyes.”

The steadiness in your voice takes even Jimin by surprise, blinking owlishly for a second before he obliges, eyes sliding close. You breathe in deeply, steeling your nerves and hoping that the sound of your rapidly beating heart doesn’t give you away as you lean in close until your lips press on the smooth skin of his forehead. You don’t linger for long as you slowly lower your face until your lips touch delicately over each of his eyelids, so soft that to Jimin, they feel like the brush of butterfly wings.

“Don’t look yet…” You murmur when you feel his eyes flutter behind closed lids and you move to place your lips on the apples of his cheek, taking in the way he seems to desperately want to reach out to you, feel your lips on his — a hard swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing and the subtle scrunch from the couch under his grip is the only thing that gives away his anticipation. You don’t mean to tease, but you can’t help but want to take your time in appreciating him, show how much you cherish him if not through your words than through your actions. So when you finally press a kiss to those soft, pillowy lips, he melts in an instant, instinctively tilting his head so that you both slot perfectly together.

Your eyes flutter close, giving in to him as you feel one hand cup the side of your neck and the other pulls you in even closer, hoisting you into his lap, chest bumping until all you feel is him. Your sighs are swallowed by him and he takes his time to kiss you thoroughly, just as you had with him, sucking on your bottom lip and coaxing you with his tongue. You break away multiple times only to draw back in because neither of you can’t get enough of the taste of each other but eventually you do with a soft smack of your lips. Mind clearing from the haze that is Jimin, you notice how you’re straddling his hips and how he’s reclined against the couch, staring up at you with pupils blown out underneath slightly tousled hair. His lips are parted as puffs of air brush against your cheek, pink and swollen with a wet sheen to them — you don’t think yours are any better but while you think you look like a complete, total mess, Jimin looks divine.

It must’ve showed on your face because a sly smile stretches across his face, followed by a chuckle that rumbles from his chest to yours.

“That was naughty of you noona.”

The deep raspy tone alone was nearly enough to sober you up. You begin to lean away, more than embarrassed but you feel his arms tighten around you, keeping you in place.

“No don’t….” He almost whines, “Give me one more for my birthday…”

You blink, letting his words sink in and when they do, a giggle bubbles up inside of you, making your shoulders shake and you have to lower your head down to rest against his shoulder. You hear him giggling along with you but you don’t think it’s for the same reason as yours. Once you’ve managed to reel yourself in, you bring a hand up to run a hand through his hair, brushing away the strands as lean your forehead gently against his own, smiling softly down at him.

“Okay….”

He’s all too pleased when you agree, smiling into the kiss that you’re all too happy to give.

You won’t point out the fact that it’s been way past midnight.

-

Bonus

You notice it as Jimin stretches his neck back for a second, the silver finally catching the light of the lamps.

“You’re wearing it…” You can’t help but let it slip out. Jimin hears you and follows your eyes until he sees what you’re so fixated on. A grin immediately breaks out across his lips.

“Of course I am noona. I was surprised when I opened it; how’d you find it?”

“I didn’t…” You admit, fiddling with the sleeves of your pullover. “I heard you lost it and how you couldn’t find a replacement ever since so…I thought you would like to have it again. I know it was important to you.”

He nuzzles his nose against yours affectionately, beaming at you with so much gratitude you think it’s a little undeserved of you. “Thank you noona, it really means a lot to me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have someone who cares about me and ARMY.”

You’re the lucky one here, you think, cheeks heating up at the praises and you take to occupying yourself by straightening out the little silver letters that spell out ‘ARMY’ resting on the base of his neck. He flinches away, giggling from how ticklish your fingers are making him.

“You know I’m still ARMY even if I’m your girlfriend too, right?”

“Of course noona~ I know you’re my biggest fan~”

#jimin fic #park jimin fic #bts jimin fic #jimin x you #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin reader insert #jimin scenarios #park jimin scenario #park jimin idol au #bts idol au #jimin imagine #park jimin imagines #park jimin fluff #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin birthday fic #park jimin birthday fic

[marvelous-writer]

It Came at Night

Summary: What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up. 

(Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming)

Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

@whumptober2019

Link to read on Ao3: 

It’s late into the evening when Peter’s eyes start drooping. It's his weekend to stay over at the Compound with Tony, and they’re already kicking it off by spending the night tinkering down in the lab.

But coming off of a whole week of school, homework and patrolling… Peter’s downright exhausted.

A yawn escapes his mouth at that moment and he furiously binks, finding that staying awake was beginning to be quite a challenge, one that he’s rapidly losing. The wiring in his hands blur out of focus as he slowly blinks, thoughts swirling around his drowsy brain. As a few minutes pass by, Peter’s eyes begin to slip closed, head dipping down to his chest.

“You dozing off on me, kiddo?”

Peter’s head shot up at the sound of his mentor’s voice and he rapidly blinks. “No no… ‘course not, M’str Stark.” He tiredly mumbles, reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes.

The man lets out an amused snort at his side. “That’s the third time I’ve seen you nod off in the past ten minutes. How about we call it a night and get some food in you before you go to bed?”

Peter looks at his suit that’s sprawled out on the table in front of them. They were doing some pretty hardcore upgrades to the suit’s hardware and it will probably take them the whole weekend to get through all of it. Losing out on lab time would only set them back, but making a mistake when he’s half-asleep won’t help them either.

Peter gives in with a small, disappointed sigh. “Okay.”

Once everything is cleaned up and packed away for the night, Tony throws his arm across Peter’s shoulders and steers him over to the elevator.

“So what are you in the mood for? Burgers? Pasta? I can whip us up some fettuccine alfredo if you want?” He offers as they step inside.

Peter shrugs. “Whatever’s easier.”  

“Pasta it is then. Besides, I found this recipe that I’ve been wanting to try out.” Tony says with a smile as the doors slide open once they reach their floor, revealing the dark space in front of them.

They both walk out and the lights dimly turn on, illuminating the way to the kitchen. Peter yawns as he leans up against the center island, watching as Tony moves around getting what he needed to start on dinner. “Need any help?” He offers.

“No, I think I’ve got it covered, bud. We don’t want another repeat of the last time you tried helping me in the kitchen, do we?” Tony shoots him a teasing smirk over his shoulder as he takes out two boxes of pasta from the cabinet above the stove.

“That was one time.”

“And one I’ll never forget.” Tony grins as he brings a pot over to the sink, filling it with water. “How about you go in the living room and turn on a movie or take a nap? I’ll wake you when it’s ready.”

“You sure?” Peter asks, feeling guilty for not helping out.

Tony waves a hand dismissively at him. “Positive. Now shoo! Chief’s at work here.”

Peter smiles as he turns around and makes his way over to the living room, plopping down on the large sectional. He grabs the remote and flips the TV on, turning it to Netflix. For several minutes, he mindlessly scrolls through all of his options, debating on settling for reruns of Friends or the newest season of The Flash when he suddenly feels the familiar tingling of his senses at the back of his head.

Peter frowns as he sits up and peers over the back of the couch into the kitchen, eyes landing on Tony, who was standing at the stove humming what sounded like an AC/DC song.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and there certainly wasn’t any danger here. It was just the two of them and FRIDAY would let them know if something was wrong.

Maybe his senses were a little out of whack with how tired he is, it’s happened before.

Peter turns back around and settles against the couch cushions, but he can’t push away the uneasy feeling bubbling away in his stomach.

Something just doesn’t feel right.  

He pushes himself up from the couch and walks across the room to the kitchen, nervously glancing around the space for any signs of a threat. Tony’s still humming away, stirring the pasta in the boiling water, foot tapping against the floor to whatever tune’s playing in his head, oblivious to Peter’s distress.

Peter walks the rest of the way into the kitchen and leans his back against the countertop a few feet away from Tony, who looks up at him with a raised brow.

“Something wrong?” He asks.

Peter rubs the back of his neck where he can feel the buzzing sensation, face pinching from it. “I don’t know. My senses are on the fritz I think.”

“What do you mean?” Tony frowns, concern showing in his eyes. “Does that usually happen?”

Peter gives a one shouldered shrug. “Sometimes when I’m tired or stressed it does but-something doesn't feel right.”

Tony taps the wooden spoon against the pot before putting it down on an Iron Man head spoon holder. He looks over at him with a frown. “On a scale of one to ten how bad is it?”

“Like-maybe a six, seven.”

Tony nods, glancing up at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, run a perimeter check to be on the safe side.”

They’re met by silence.

“FRIDAY?” Tony’s frown deepens.

Still nothing, only unsettling silence.

“W-What does that mean?” Peter asks as he sees him visibly tense up.

“I don’t know. She’s never not answered before, so that might mean that someone hacked into her mainframe and shut her off.”

Peter’s eyes widen at that and he opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, he suddenly feels the hairs on his arms stand on end, his senses practically screaming at him.

Run! Get out!  

There’s a mechanical click from somewhere in the room, along with a soft whoosing noise, before he feels a sharp prick on his right shoulder. Peter jumps back with a startled gasp and looks down at his arm, only to see a skinny silver, needle-looking object sticking out.

“Shit.” Tony curses from beside him as he rushes forward, eyes wide as he grabs Peter’s arm, carefully pulling it out. “Shit. It’s a tranquilizer.”

At that moment, a wave of dizziness washes over Peter, static forming in front of his eyes. The exhaustion from earlier was now back in full force. Whatever was in that thing was affecting him rather quickly .

“O-Oh…” Peter mumbles as he grabs the countertop behind himself for balance, rapidly blinking to clear his vision, only worsening it. “S’mthing’s wrong with m’ eyes…” He slurs.

And his tongue too, apparently.

In a split second, it’s as if all the blood drains from his head before Peter’s legs give out from underneath him, the floor rushing up to meet him.

“Peter!” He hears Tony scream over the static in his ears, feeling the man’s hands on him, tightly grabbing on to his upper arms, saving him from bashing his head.

He blinks up at Tony’s blurry face and the bright LED lighting panels on the ceiling.

“Peter? C’mon, stay with me.” Tony’s tells him in a panicked tone from above.

“T’rd…” Peter barely manages to get out around his tongue that’s started to feel weirdly dry and swollen.

He sluggishly blinks, feeling his eyelids growing heavier and heavier as the seconds tick by. Calloused hands grab both sides of his face and his eyes slide over, meeting Tony’s wide, fearful ones. “Pete, you’ve gotta stay awake. Do you hear me? Stay awake. Keep those eyes open. There’s no telling what’s in that thing-” Tony’s voice cuts out, filtering in and out of his ears like a scratched disk.

Peter’s heavy eyes slip closed, his will to fight sapped right out of him. He feels like he’s falling, before blackness rushes up to meet him, then he knows no more.  

…….

Consciousness slowly comes back to him, angry yelling voices filter in and out of his ears, the words so jumbled together, it’s impossible to decipher what’s being said.

Peter struggles opening his heavy eyes, brows pulling together in confusion when he realizes that he’s lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. He faintly remembers standing in the kitchen with Tony, pasta boiling over the stove, and then feeling a sharp pinch in his arm… but he can’t remember anything after that.

His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, making it impossible to think, let alone remember exactly how he ended up on the floor.

There’s a familiar, dull tugging at the back of his head, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Where’s Tony?

“I’m done playing games, Stark…” A voice says from somewhere in the room. “You’re going to give me what I want, right now, or else there will be consequences.”

You think you can just waltz in here, break into my home, and threaten me? You’re out of your mind, Ross.” He recognizes Tony’s angry voice.

“After everything that you’ve done, dodging my calls and keeping sensitive information from me, yes!” The other man yells back.

It takes his groggy brain a few moments to process what’s going on. Clearly, whoever this Ross guy was, was dangerous and bold enough to break into the Avengers Compound and threaten Iron Man, himself. Why, though?

His head gives off a particularly sharp throb at that moment and Peter tightly closes his eyes with a pained groan.

“The kid’s awake, sir.” A new, gruff voice announces from somewhere nearby.

“Well… there are other ways for me to get the information I want out of you.” The man, Ross, threatens. “Bring him to me.”

“No! Leave him alone!” He hears Tony yell.

Before Peter can register what’s happening, he’s suddenly being pulled up rather roughly by two sets of hands. He sluggishly opens his eyes, blurry figures above swirling around in his vision as he’s dragged across the floor, legs too weak to move. Peter’s dropped back to the floor, too disoriented to catch himself, when his face collides against the hardwood floor. Peter cries out involuntarily when pain flares from both his nose and pounding head, screwing his eyes shut with a groan. There’s something warm trickling out of his nose and all he can smell is copper.

“So… this is one of your many, little secrets you’ve been keeping to yourself, hmm?” Ross says, almost sounding bored.

Footsteps approach him and Peter opens his eyes, meeting a pair of polished black dress shoes that are mere inches away from his face.

“Leave him alone, Ross or so help me I’ll-”

“You’re really not in any position to threaten me, Stark. Not with your child’s life on the line.” Ross snaps. “Now, you can either give me what I want or…”

A hand grabs a fistful of his curls and violently yanks him upright to his knees, and Peter screws his eyes shut as he lets out a choked whimper from the stinging pain it brings. There’s something cold being shoved against his temple, even in his drugged state he knows it's a gun.

“...or else he’s going to have a bullet in his head in the next ten seconds.” Ross finishes.

Peter blinks his now watery eyes open, feeling a few warm tears slide down his cheeks as his eyes settle on Tony, who stands a few feet away, restrained by two armed soldiers in dark navy blue uniforms. His eyes are wide and fear-filled, darting between the gun and Peter’s face.

Fear shoots through Peter at the situation they’re in, shaking despite how still he tries to be. “T-T’ny…” He slurs, tongue too thick and heavy in his mouth.

“It’s okay, Pete.” Tony’s quick to reassure him, struggling in the soldier’s holds. “You’re okay.” He says before turning his head over in Ross’ direction, eyes darkening with hate. “Just let him go. He has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”

Ross makes a tsking sound as he turns back to them and walks a short distance across the room, pausing in step before turning back around, looking at Tony.

“I have to disagree with you. I believe that he does.” He lowly says as a grin spreads across his face. Ross glances over at Peter as he slowly walks around them in a circle. “You see, I’ve been keeping tabs on you, Tony. Watching everything you do, where you go, and who you’re with. I’ve been watching the two of you for some time now and I couldn’t help but wonder… why would Tony Stark, spend his precious time with an orphan from Queens? And I’ve noticed how close you are with each other.”

Despite the fuzziness, pain and exhaustion that’s heavily weighing Peter down, he understands perfectly well what the man is saying.

He knows he’s Spider-Man.

Peter takes in a shaky breath, locking his eyes with Tony, who looked like he had come to the same conclusion as well.

Ross chuckles darkly, stepping in between them. “Looks like your playboy days have come back to haunt you.” He glances over his shoulder at Peter. “Tony Stark’s long lost son.”  

Peter blinks, shocked. Ross actually thinks that… that Peter was Tony’s son? He’s too woozy to try and wrap his head around that.

Tony is questioningly silent and Peter can’t see his face with Ross standing in front of him.

“You honestly thought you could hide that little secret from the world? From me?” Ross laughs. “I have eyes and ears everywhere. And you haven’t been trying to hide it, either. I have pictures of you at the kid’s high school!” Ross waves a hand in Peter’s direction.

He steps away, letting out a drawn out sigh. His steely blue eyes meet Peter’s, fear shooting through him. Ross must see it because he smirks, rounding on Tony once again.

“I’m going to ask you, one more time… and I expect an honest answer from you. Where is Captain Rogers and the rest of the rogues?” Ross slowly asks, stepping over to Peter’s side. “If you don’t give me an answer in ten seconds, your floor is going to be redecorated.”

The soldier that’s holding onto Peter presses the gun further against his temple, painfully so. Peter swallows hard, breaths quickening as he looks at Tony with wide, fearful eyes. The gun clicks as the safety’s taken off, the sound echoing in Peter’s ears.

“Ten… nine… eight…” Ross begins counting down.

Tony’s eyes widen in horror. “No wait!”

“Seven... six…” Ross continues.

“Ross, please!” Tony yells.  

Peter’s breathing is almost hysteic now. He tries to fight out of the soldier’s grip but the man tightens his hold on Peter’s hair, pressing the gun further against his head.

“Five… four… three-”

A loud crashing sound comes from the window next to them, glass shards raining down on them.

“What the hell?” Ross angrily yells in surprise.

War Machine, in all of his glory, stands in front of where the window once stood, holding out both gauntlets threateningly at Ross and his men, the suit’s weapons on full display.

“Stand down now.” Rhodey orders, metallic voice low.

Ross scoffs. “Colonel, you stand down. Your buddy here,” He gestures over at Tony. “Has been withholding sensitive information regarding wanted fugitives from the government, and he’s going to be prosecuted for-”

“And you are going to be prosecuted for endangering a minor and for breaking and entering on private property.” Rhodey shoots back at him. “Tell your men to drop their weapons and stand down now. Don’t make me ask again.” He threatens, voice dropping lower.

Ross stands there for a moment, glaring at him, before he signals his men with a wave of his hand. The soldier holding on to Peter pulls the gun away, dropping his hand from Peter’s curls. Peter falls to the floor, saving himself from face planting again by catching himself on weak, shaky arms. The soldiers release their hold on Tony and he rushes over to Peter’s side, dropping to his knees.

“I’ve got you, Pete.” He softly says, voice wavering slightly as he places a hand on his back.

Peter lets out a low, pained groan, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets Tony help him sit up. A wave of dizziness washes over him and another groan escapes from the back of his throat.

“‘M’ dizzy…” He mumbles, feeling Tony’s arms snake around his back, feeling himself being lowered down.

“I’ve got you, kiddo.” Tony tells him. “I’ve got you.”

Peter slowly blinks, finding that his head was now in the man’s lap. Tony was looking down at him, face filled with concern.

There’s a loud noise from somewhere in the room, followed by heavy booted footfalls on the floor. Peter flinches at all of the noise and tries to sit up but Tony places a hand on his chest, not letting him up.

“Drop your weapons! Get on the ground and put your hands in the air!” Multiple gruff voices yell.

Peter tightly closes his eyes and whimpers in fear. So much was going on around him and it was all too much for his senses.

“T-Tony-” Peter whimpers.

Tony softly shushes him and places a warm, calloused hand on the side of his face. “Everything’s alright. You’re okay, kiddo. We’re safe now.” He assures.

Peter tightly closes his eyes, feeling a few tears escape and slide down his cheeks.

“Tony!” A familiar voice yells, rapid footsteps approaching them. “Shit. What happened? Is he hurt?”

“They shot him with something, he’s a little banged up.” Tony says.

“SHIELD medics are a minute out.” Rhodey supplies from nearby.

Peter forces his teary eyes open, seeing Happy’s blurry, worried face hovering above him, next to Tony’s. Peter’s eyelids are growing heavier and heavier as the seconds pass by, his thoughts going right out the window. He feels like he’s slipping… sleep pulling him down.

“Hey, hey don’t you conk out on us, kid.” Tony orders, feeling the man’s hand tapping against his cheeks.

Peter hummus as he forces his eyes open halfway, unable to open them any more with how impossibly heavy they are. Black dots flicker in his vision, fading around the edges.

He’s so tired.

“Keep those eyes open-”

Maybe he could just take a nap.

“Kid-”

The world gets lost to him when Peter’s eyes slip closed, meeting all-consuming darkness.

…….

Soft, rhythmic beeping is the first thing Peter’s aware of. He slowly peels his eyes open, meeting the familiar white walls of the medbay.

“There he is.” Someone says at his side.

Peter’s brows pull together as he rolls his head to his right, seeing Tony sitting in a chair at his bedside, softly smiling at him.

“How are you feeling?”

Peter blinks, swallowing around the dryness in his throat. “Tired.” He croaks out.

“I’m sure you are. You have quite a few drugs in your system right now. It was a little too much, even with your metabolism to handle, so we’re trying to help and flush it all out.”

Peter’s brows pull together as his eyes lower down to the mattress where his right arm limply lays, an IV taped over his hand.

“Do you remember what happened?” Tony asks.

Peter licks his dry lips. “N-Not really… I remember a guy, Ross? He and a few of his guys broke in?” He says questioningly.

Tony breathes out a sigh, nodding, as he reaches over to the nightstand and picks up a glass of water, handing it to him. Peter lifts it to his mouth and takes a few long gulps of, grateful to wash away the horrible dryness.

“What did he want?” Peter asks after a few moments of silence.

Tony stares ahead at the glass wall, an unreadable expression on his face before he lets out another sigh, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s in custody right now with some pretty severe charges pressed against him, by yours truly.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he says it.

Peter just nods and looks down at his lap, a particular memory of the incident coming back to him.

“He was spying on us?” Peter asks.

“Looks like it. Rhodey’s looking into it now to see just how much he was able to find out-”

“He thought I was your son?” Peter blurts out before he can stop himself.

Tony lets out a long breath through his nose, slowly nodding. “Yeah.”

Peter studies his face for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. After everything they’ve been through today, what could he say? It was so hard to wrap his mind around all of this.

“I’m sorry.” Peter chooses to say, looking down at the half empty cup in his hands.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because… I-He thought that I’m your… your son.” Peter says, brows pulling together.

“And what would be so wrong about that?” Tony asks.

Peter looks up at him, his heart warming at the man’s words. A small smile tugs at the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Nothing.” He says in an honest tone.

#whumptober2019 #no.5 #gunpoint #whumptober #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #hurt/comfort #whump #Peter Parker whump #domestic fluff #Parent Tony Stark #Dad Tony #poor peter parker #non-consensual drug use #tranquilizers #hurt peter #hurt peter parker #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #iron man #happy hogan #rhodey #war machine #general ross #secretary ross #break-ins #my fic #my writing #spider-man homecoming

[aweebwrites]

Move on Dragons Ch18

“Team meeting!” Lloyd called out once they returned from New Ninjago City.

“What’s going on?” Zane asked as he walked towards the edge of the bridge, sliding his welding mask up.

“We gotta talk about what to tell the public and then some.” Nya told him then allowed her wings to slip out through the slits in the back of her gi so she could use them as a boost to get up on the ship. “How are the upgrades on the mainframe coming along?” She asked.

“Pixal finished them just moments ago. I’ve moved onto upgrading and reinforcing the wheel of the ship.” He informed her, gesturing to the inside for her to take a look.

“I’ll get Kai and Jay.” Cole told Lloyd, unfurling his own wings and tail once he got the go ahead, taking flight to the large tower.

He spiraled around it to the top and landed inside, finding the area pretty much empty, save for Garmadad, Kai, Jay and the sleeping twins.

“Where’s everyone else?” Cole asked as he walked in.

“They’re doing rounds. Turnss out they have other things to do than hanging out with uss all day. They gotta patrol and keep the peace among the other dragonss. They’re also gonna hang out for a while with just them.” Jay shrugged, not at all bothered by it.

Hanging out with them was cool and all but time with your original friends is also good.

“Oh. Well, at least these two are asleep. It is around their nap time…” Cole murmured as he looked outside to gauge the time.

“How was the mission?” Kai asked as he fiddled around on his phone.

“Nothing serious but we have a team meeting to get to. We’ve put off a couple things long enough.” Cole told them and both half serpentine and half dragon could immediately think of a few things they should probably address.

“Do you mind watching them for a while?” Jay asked Garmadad, turning around to look at the elder dragon as he sat in contemplation.

“Not at all.” He says after a moment, rising on all fours and walking closer.

“Something’s on your mind though.” Kai pointed out, knowing his dragon father well enough by now.

“Yes, there is. However, that can be discussed after you’ve discussed what your teammates.” Garmadad rumbled as Kai and Jay got up, giving him more room to curl himself protectively around the dragonlings, draping a large wing over them for warmth.

“Alright. We’ll be back in a bit.” Kai murmured, butting his head against his large paw then chuckling once he was nuzzled.

He made sure to give both Jay and Cole a departing nuzzle as well, Jay leaving a little blue under the scales once he actually ended up purring. A short glide later and the other half of the team was on site, Pixal included.

“Before we get started, I wanna try out the retraction system we have for the masts on the ship and the support we added to the deck.” Nya called out from the bridge then pressed a large blue button on the control panel.

The group watched in awe as the sails of the ship retracted into the masts and the masts themselves began to retract into the deck, the railings around the edge of the ship also following, leaving the space completely clear ad flat

“Kai! Try landing on the deck- carefully!” Zane called out and Kai blinked before he flew up and shifted into his much larger dragon form.

He then flew over to and hovered over the ship before slowly setting himself down. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t completely wreck the ship. Sure the Land Bounty was now a thing as Pixal finished it- and a few others- while they were out doing dragon business but the ship has been destroyed almost every other couple of months. He placed a paw down hesitantly, then another, then all four before he slowly set down all of his weight, surprising him when the deck didn’t give out below me.

“Awesome! The support is holding up. That’s good.” Nya grinned.

“This is only a means of emergency however. While you are on the ship like this, the ship cannot fly- or float as you are too heavy.” Pixal called out in warning and he carefully turned around to test it.

He could just barely hold but it was pretty cool.

“Oh. So that’s where those scales went.” Lloyd spoke up as he looked up at Kai’s chest area that sported 7 different coloured scales in the same pattern a necklace would be.

One red scale- no doubt belonging to Blaze- appeared redder than Kai’s normal scales but that was more due to the fact that the scales on Kai’s underbelly were a paler red than the rest of him.

“Huh, ok.” Cole says as he blinked up at them.

“So they just- became his scales instead?” Jay asked, a little confused on how that worked.

Kai looked down at them in confusion before he shifted back to his smaller form, Pixal taking that as her cue to bring up the masts and railings again.

“What are you guys talking about?” Kai asked as they flew up, landing on the deck around him.

“The scales other us gave you. They’re kinda apart of you. Literally.” Lloyd pointed out and Kai immediately placed a hand over his chest before looking down.

The scales were in fact, nestled into his scales as if they were his own, despite them being much bigger than his normal scales like this. No doubt Garmadad’s and Wu’s were still rather large in his other form. He honestly never noticed. He does have a habit of reaching there to stroke one but he somehow never noticed that they were quite literally embedded into his flesh now. Not that he minded. This just meant he’d literally always have a part of them with him. In fact, it was kinda cool.

“Ok, one mystery solved. Now let’s get right into things.” Cole says as Nya, Zane and Pixal came down from the bridge.

“First, we won’t always have a situation where half the team or less have to go to the city, and half the team don’t exactly look like they used to. It’s not a bad thing before you guys start spiraling. It’s just that it seems like a good idea to let the city know what to expect before we all show up as creatures from a different dimension.” Nya pointed out.

“That and we have no clue how permanent these changes are. I mean, Kai’s wasn’t exactly permanent. Only the eyes were. Every other time until around when the dragons ended up in Ninjago, he used their scales to shift. Should we tell the city it’s permanent or not?” Cole asked, looking amongst their team.

“And we haven’t told all of Ninjago about the dragons either.” Lloyd reminded.

“We really should tell them about the dragons. I mean, Hiroshi’s Labyrinth might be pretty huge but it’s relatively small on a dragon’s scale. The dragons are getting restless to fly further out. They try to hide it but let’s be honest, they weren’t meant to be confined to a specific area. They haven’t been able to fly over the Endless Sea because of fishermen and they certainly under no circumstances cannot go to the Dark Island to do their flying.” Kai pointed out.

“But if they leave Hiroshi’s Labyrinth for long, they’ll sstart turning human.” Jay pointed out.

“Which is why they won’t.” Zane followed up. “Needing more airspace doesn’t mean they need somewhere else to settle down or linger. We used to take care of dragons and we all know how stir crazy they get if we don’t take them out for long flights.” He reminded them.

“Ninjago is familiar with dragons, as you all made them familiar to them. They are most likely not going to have a problem with dragons occasionally flying overhead so that is the least of our concerns.” Pixal told them. “What we should focus on is your appearances. Jay’s is explainable and understandable. That and the fact that Ninjago has been getting along with Serpentine kind will put him in the clear. Kai’s and the rest of you will cause for some curiosity but Lloyd’s... Might cause panic.” She admitted.

“Yeah, I saw that coming…” Lloyd sighed, looking down at his clawed hands. “I can’t even hide it anymore…” He mumbled even quieter but they all heard.

“None of that. You know hiding this side of yourself is dangerous for you so it’s good you can’t do that anymore.” Cole scolded.

“And panic is only initial. We just have to show them you’re still you and not your father.” Zane pointed out.

“And really, what’s the best way to do that than by saving the city?” Kai grinned at him, wrapping an arm around Lloyd’s shoulder, careful of the shiny black dragon resting there.

“But what do we do before then? We can’t just keep Lloyd out of public appearancess until some big bad appears.” Jay pointed out.

“Jay’s got a point. Plus, everyone saw normal Lloyd today because he decided make-up was a good idea.” Nya pointed out and Lloyd gave a sheepish look once they all turned to look at him.

“Sensei Wu wouldn’t want us to lie or anything though…” He reminded them and they all paused to think.

“I suppose coming clean about that might be best. The city might have it’s doubts but it’s like Kai says, once you ultimately end up saving the city, they’ll realise that you’re really you.” Pixal spoke up and the team collectively frowned.

“But why does he have to prove himself after everything he’s already done for Ninjago?” Cole spoke what everyone was thinking.

“It’s-”

“Not fine.” Kai says, cutting Lloyd off. “Look, we call for a sort of public meeting-”

“A press conference-”

“Yeah, that. We let them know what’s up with them and I’ll set fire to the tail of anyone who says anything other than “thanks for letting us know.” How about that?” Kai asked, cutting Zane’s correction off as he cracked his knuckles.

“I’m down.” Cole says, rolling his shoulders.

“Guys-”

“Perhaps not physical fire. Words can burn too…” Zane hummed.

“Zane wh-”

“That I can get behind.” Nya grinned.

“Guys!” Lloyd yelled round a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously. It’s fine. We let them know and we keep acting as we normally do. That’s it.” He says with an amused but grateful smile, glad his friends, his family was willing to go this far for him.

“... Alright fine. But I withhold the right to taser anyone who tries to be an assshole.” Jay huffed, a spark of electricity traveling from his horns on his head down to the very last set of horns on his tail.

“As for the permanency of the rest of your change, that answer is largely unknown so also letting them know it’s unknown would be best.” Pixal says as she looked to Zane, Nya and Cole.

“Is that all to discuss?” Zane asked and the team paused to see if that was all they could think of.

“When do we tell the rest of Ninjago?” Cole asked them.

“... As soon as possible, really. We can head back to the city- after we check out our room. We moved it to the front of the ship and moved Sensei Wu into our old room. I mean why did he have the bigger room to begin with?” Nya asked as she urged the others to follow her below deck.

“I dunno. Sensei privilege I guesss.” Jay shrugged as they walked along the short corridor to the room at the end of the hall.

Nya opened the door for them and they awed at the much bigger space- and the much bigger beds! Kai flopped down on his then stretched after wiggling around a bit.

“I can actually fit! This is amazing sis!” Kai grinned as he rolled over on his stomach, his wings folded close.

“Well, I thought it was pretty important since I’ve gotten so used to shifting that… I sometimes shift in my sleep.” Nya shrugged as the others checked out their beds and the storage beneath.

“Same.” Cole admits, flopping back on his bed.

“They’re really comfortable too…” Lloyd mumbled, burying his face into his pillow, Little G curling up his lower half on the pillow nearby, kneading his tiny paws into the material.

“I mean, if we’re doing a room makeover, why not get new bedding?” Nya asked, sitting down on her own bed.

“What about Pixal?” Jay asked, all but melting into his bed.

“I have my own quarters on the ship.” She told them lightly.

Naturally she would, as she was apart of the team, even if she’s been a bit more independent with missions lately.

“I don’t know how to break it to you guys but… I kinda don’t wanna get up.” Kai mumbled, nuzzling into his pillow.

“Same.” Lloyd mumbled from his place with his face buried into his pillow.

Cole and Jay gave a grunt of confirmation and Zane couldn’t hold back a huff of amusement.

“The Bounty is mostly done and she’s been grounded for a while. I suppose we can take her out for a flight…” Nya suggested.

“Indeed.” Pixal nodded with a smile. “Anchors up!” She called as Zane and Nya followed her out, the rest of their team delivering lazy cheers as they went.

_______________ (Another chappie! I'm inching towards a v important time skip but I wanna address a few things before I suddenly jump ahead. I'll probably make the next chapter longer so the time skip can come up for chapter 20 where we can finally start progressing to the middle end of the fic [I say while knowing that roughly 20 more chapters await us].Thanks for reading!)

#ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #jay ninjago #nya ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd ninjago #pixal ninjago #garmadon #aweebwrites' work

[luminous-grace]

for the trope mashup: 11. Fantasy/Magic + 34. Hurt/Comfort :D

Eep. This is over two months late but I did get to it so like. Better late than never, right? Thank you @casbeanwrites, for your endless patience even though I’m almost 100% sure you forgot about this because, like I said, it’s two months late. Anyways, here you go. Please enjoy… whatever this is.

Panting, Dean weaves through the forest.

Cas? Could use a little help here, buddy.

I will be there momentarily. Please do try your best not to get killed.

“No promises,” Dean mutters darkly, narrowly ducking under a wayward branch. The shouting behind him grows closer, and Dean swears. Catching sight of a break in the trees, he be-lines for it, bursting out in the open air with a rush of relief. It’s short lived, however, as he comes face to face with a wide open clearing and exactly nowhere to hide.

“Well. Shit.” Dean spins around, one hand drifting to the knife in his belt and the other dropping his bag protectively behind him.

After a moment, his three pursuers burst out of the woods, looking mean and very pissed off. Slowly, they advance towards him, and Dean sends another urgent message Castiel’s way. His response comes in the form of exasperated concern blasting through their mental link, and Dean winces, shaking his head to clear it.

Stalling it is.

“Alright, fellas.” Dean says, raising his free hand placatingly. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

One of bandits, Dean’ll call him Baldy, snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.” He turns to elbow the guy next to him. “Grab the bag.”

His buddy steps forward, snatching the bag from where Dean had dropped it. As he retreats back to his friends, he shoots a foot out at the back of Dean’s knees, knocking his legs out from under him. With a grunt, Dean stumbles to the ground before glaring up at them.

“I said,” Dean says, a little louder this time, craning his head skyward. “That we can do this the easy way or the hard-”

With a sound like a thunder crash, a creature the size of a house barrels out of the clouds above them. Terrified, the three men grasp for their weapons but they couldn’t have hoped to be fast enough. Before they can even blink, a massive foot shoots out, effortlessly pinning all three of the bandits to the ground.

Wings buffeting the ground as he steadies himself, Castiel glowers down at them. His eyes are a bright, otherworldly blue, the only source of light against a sea of black scales. Those in turn are a dark, polished obsidian, seeming to blur together despite the bright afternoon light and making it impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Dean grins.

“Fellas”, he says amiably, climbing to his feet. “Meet the hard way“

You’re ridiculous. Castiel grumbles, for Dean’s ears only. And for future, if you intend to end up two-hundred paces south of where we had originally planned, I would appreciate an advanced notice.

“Fine, okay.” Dean mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “May have miscalculated a bit, that’s my bad. Can we focus here?”

Your bad, huh? That’s a novel sentiment. Glowing blue eyes swivel back towards the terrified bandits. Castiel cocks his head, something like amusement coloring his voice. Widening his thoughts to include the men in question, he asks: Should I eat them?

Dean watches in satisfaction as the men visibly pale, seeming to shrink under Castiel’s penetrating gaze.

Dean considers for a minute. “Nah,” he says, finally. “They can run home back to their families, talk about the big scary dragon roaming around, like anyone’ll believe ‘em. Maybe make them piss their pants a little. The usual.”

Fine. Castiel rumbles, and this thought Dean knows is just for him. But I’ll have you know that I’ve had considerably less fun since you showed up.

“Love you too, babe.” Dean says, just to see the split second of utter confusion on the bandits’ faces, their eyes shooting between him and Castiel as if they can’t decide which of them is more terrifying.

As if to help answer their question, Castiel leans down until his snout is inches from the leader, the man going cross eyed trying to keep him in focus. Slowly, Castiel starts to growl, the rumble of it quickly building to a crescendo that drowns out everything around them. His lips curl back to reveal blue flames that spill out of the side of his mouth, curling along his jaw.

I would run now, little ones. Castiel says, raising his foot just slightly.

They don’t need telling twice.

Dean doubles over laughing at the sight of three grown men stumbling over themselves to get as far away as possible. Castiel huffs a breath through his nose, tail flicking in amusement as he watches the bandits disappear over the horizon.

“Think that scared ‘em off for the next decade or so?” Dean asks, brushing dirt of his pants walking over to retrieve the bag Baldy had conveniently left behind.

You’re being too conservative. I’d say twenty is more than likely. Castiel butts him gently with the side of his head. Need a lift?

“Hell yes,” Dean enthuses, scrambling up into the hollow space where Castiel’s neck meets his back.

With a rush of air that buffets all the trees around them, Castiel pushes off from the ground. Once airborne, Dean sighs, stretching out to press his face to the warms scales of Castiel’s neck.

“Missed you,” he murmurs. The sound is lost to beating of Castiel’s wings, but Dean knows from the contended rumble in Castiel’s chest that he heard him.

—

They make it home in record time, Dean somehow managing not to fall asleep and slip off mid-flight. Sliding down from Castiel’s neck, Dean regards their little home fondly, tucked away in the side of a conveniently secluded mountain. It’s small, most rooms consisting of caves Castiel had hollowed out himself, and it’s filled with a collection of odds and ends that Castiel fell in love with and acquired through years. (Himself included, Dean thinks with more than a little amusement.)

To one side there’s a library, complete with the fruits of centuries of Castiel’s labors. Adjoined to it is a kitchen, added later to Dean’s delight and Castiel’s trepidation. Finally, tucked further inside is the bedroom, or what passes for a bedroom when its original owner is a centuries old mythical creature. When Dean had first arrived it was just a pile of soft mosses and other flora that Castiel had seemed content to lounge around on. Then Dean had started sneezing within ten feet of it, and adjustments had to be made. It’s since been converted to a real king size bed, acquired from somewhere Dean really doesn’t want to think too hard about, and the nest of blankets, pillows, and other soft fabrics Castiel managed to procure makes it a fair compromise. All things considered, it’s not a bad place to spend the rest of your life.

There’s a rustling sound behind him, like a thousand wings flapping all at once, and Dean snaps out of his daydream, turning to face his husband.

“Hey, Cas,” he says, as he takes him in. Even after all this time, the fact that this is his life still renders him somewhat breathless. Castiel might be two stories tall with the power to scare entire kingdoms into submission, but it’s Cas who has the perpetual bed-head and quiet smile, the piercing blue eyes that never manage to quite lose that otherworldly blue. Currently, he’s also very naked, so that doesn’t hurt either.

Castiel raises an eyebrow at the blatant once over.

“Hello, Dean,” he rumbles, leaning in for a kiss that Dean returns eagerly.

“Missed me too, huh?” Dean says when he pulls back, grinning.

“I should think that would be obvious,” Castiel says, like that’s not something he could or should be embarrassed about.

Dean smiles at him fondly for a moment, before abruptly remembering the point of the entire ordeal. “Wait,” he says, snapping his fingers. “Before we get side-tracked. I got your stuff back.”

Reaching behind him, he passes the bag to Castiel, who visibly brightens.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel says, the unfiltered joy in his voice never failing to make Dean blush.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Dean scratches at the back of his neck self-consciously. “Don’t think I was able to get all of ‘em, but I figured some were better than none.”

“This is perfect.” Opening the bag, Castiel carefully removes the contents to reveal several black, glittering scales. Individually, he turns each one over in his hands, examining them closely for damage. Presumably deeming them satisfactory, he brushes past Dean, heading over to a box near the corner where he reverently deposits each one.

Dean frowns slightly, watching the entire process. “I gotta say I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like we aren’t tripping over those every three feet in here. What’s it matter if some goons want to make off with a few?”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Castiel says, closing the lid of the box carefully and making his way back over. “These scales come from me and by extension they are a part of me. They contain trace amounts of my power which, in the wrong hands, could prove disastrous. Also,” he adds as an afterthought, “I don’t care for anyone but you touching them. It feels…” he frowns, searching for the word before finally settling on: “Wrong.”

Dean grins. “Shucks, Cas. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

Castiel shoots him an dry look. “My apologies. I didn’t intend for my basic physiological explanation to be misconstrued as a compliment.”

Dean snickers, reaching up to begin the process of shedding his travel gear. When he raises his arms above his head to shrug off his coat, however, a sudden burst of pain has him gasping. Bringing a hand to his side, he grimaces when it comes away bloody.

Castiel is on him in a flash.

“They hurt you.” With a noise that can only be classified as a growl, Castiel drops to his knees, jerking Dean’s coat out of the way in an attempt to locate the issue.

“It’s fine,” Dean lies, wincing as Castiel’s gentle prodding proves fruitful. “The bleeding’s mostly stopped. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

Quickly and efficiently, Castiel tugs off Dean’s outer coat before divesting him of his shirt and undershirt in rapid succession. Carefully, he peels off Dean’s slipshod bandage job and stills at the sight of what lies beneath.

“That bad, huh?” Dean asks, weakly.

He’d caught a glance of it earlier, having ducked behind a tree to hastily place a field dressing. It’s a long cut, starting near the top of his ribcage and traveling to end somewhere above his navel. It had seemed fairly shallow at the time, although- Dean supposes- being hopped up on adrenaline likely hadn’t helped with accuracy. But if Castiel’s continued silence is any answer, apparently it’s a lot worse than it he’d thought.

Using the small basin of water they usually keep in the kitchen (and when did that get there?) Castiel carefully dabs at the wound, cleaning it up to the best of his ability.

Despite himself, Dean flinches, and the look Castiel levels him with could make armies run screaming. The only thing keeping Dean standing is knowing that the rage isn’t directed at him.

“Don’t move.” Castiel orders. “I’m going to get more bandages.” Dutifully, Dean stays as still as he can, and it’s not until Castiel is once again kneeling in front of him that he finds his voice.

“Okay, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not worth it.”

“I disagree.” Castiel says, voice still dangerously calm, but Dean sees his eyes start to glow in that familiar way that means he’s about to start shifting forms and wreaking havoc. “I think the look on their faces as I tear their limbs off one by one will be very worth it.”

“Look, Cas. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t-” Castiel cuts himself off, gritting his teeth. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

“Okay, but… I could have been more careful.” Tentatively, Dean brings a hand down to rest carefully against the side of Castiel’s cheek, relieved when he turns his face into it.

“You’ve never been careful in your life.” Castiel sighs, somewhat ruefully. “It would be foolish of us both to assume you’d start now.”

Dean smiles softly, and after a moment Castiel returns it. “Sounds about right.”

The silence that falls is gentler now, less fraught with worry. Dean watches idly as Castiel works, meticulously stitching up the wound and applying more bandages with the experience of someone who’s done it many times before.

“You know that, out of all humanity, yours is the only opinion I care about,” Castiel says, abruptly, and Dean blinks at the sudden change in subject. “And you also know that I would happily raze entire kingdoms in your name.”

Uncertain as to where this is headed, Dean nods quietly, shifting to card his fingers gently through Castiel’s hair.

”Therefore,” Castiel continues, “if it would make you feel better to let those-”, he breaks off, growling out a world Dean doesn’t understand but assumes form the tone is the highest of insults, “-go, then I shall defer to your judgement.”

“Thanks, babe.” Dean says, eventually, struggling to keep his smile in check and missing by half a mile. “I appreciate you not smiting the entire rest of my species because they were mean to me.”

Castiel nods seriously. “However,” he warns, voice severe again. “If they come back I reserve the right to deal with them as I please.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Dean agrees. Sliding his hand down, he taps Castiel on the cheek. “Alright, babe: how’s it looking?”

“I am almost finished.” Carefully, Castiel tapes the last bandage in place, smoothing it out with his thumb so it rests flat. Rocking back on his heels, he takes a moment to appraise his work. After a moment he nods, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Dean’s side. A quick burst of otherworldly magic shoots out at the touch, jumpstarting the healing process, and Dean shivers for reasons definitely (mostly) medically related. Seemingly satisfied, Castiel rises to his feet with a grunt, drifting comfortably back into Dean’s space until his face is only inches away.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Dean hears himself ask, voice surprisingly hoarse.

Castiel tilts his head. “You’ll live,” he says, solemnly, and Dean breathes a sigh of relief.

“However,” Castiel continues. “I regret to say you will be horribly disfigured. I am afraid I’ll have to leave you for a more appealing mate.”

Gaping, Dean can only stare at him. After a moment, he catches sight of the slight uptick of Castiel’s mouth and everything clicks into place. Cackling, he reaches up to drop his arms around Castiel’s neck.

“Was that a joke?” Dean asks, unable to keep the delight out of his voice. “A genuine human interaction? You’re getting better at this.”

Castiel brightens, his entire demeanor shifting as he moves to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist. “Was it adequate?” He asks, somewhat shyly. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Your expertise is astounding.” Dean says. “Let me give it a test run.”

Leaning forward, Dean noses at the side of Castiel’s jaw, sliding up until his mouth is ghosting across his ear.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Dean breathes, watching in satisfaction as Castiel shivers. “Would you be willing to let me make it up to you?”

Castiel smirks at him, eyes dark. This, at least, is a human interaction in which he’s very well-versed. Dean lets himself be tugged into the bedroom, and he’s still snickering up until the moment Castiel pushes him (gently) down onto the edge of the bed before unceremoniously crawling into his lap.

Dean lets out a sigh, hands coming up to settle firmly on Castiel’s hips, tugging him in closer. Any lingering amusement fading to be replaced with something slow and warm that builds low in his gut and spreads its way through the rest of him.

Reaching forward, Castiel fits his hand around Dean’s jaw, thumbing distracting at the corner of his mouth. Then, he leans in close, knocking their foreheads together:

“I’m sure I could be persuaded.”

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Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed!): @mishtho, @sudo-apt-get-destiel, @charmedbycastiel, @feraladoration

#casbeanwrites #casbean #my fic #deancas fic #prompts #prompt fic