#i guess just that thinking about the implication of a world where soulmates are a widely known thing‚ if they are

[citriarchive]

you ever just see one (1) post about how characters in AUs will likely be ooc by way of how their backstory is affected by the change in universe and proceed to wonder what the effect of a world where there is an expectation that once you're drawn to your soulmate you Will fall in love with would have on a character whose defining arc is trying to find some semblance of self-worth (<- frothing at the mouth)

i'm gonna put this under a cut bc it's like. mildly heavy character stuff to do with self-worth. not too bad but just in case.

like you'd think it'd be good for him, right. because ny way of having a soulmate he is inherently worthy of being loved by at least one person. but then you remember that he has this Feeling of just. Being Bad. this inherent shame attached to...Being™ thanks to The Horrors. and he has to exist to someone. which raises two problems:

being perceived at all and

(more importantly) the question of even if he does meet his soulmate, even if they do fall in love, is that their soulmate choosing to love him with his flaws? or is it them forcing themselves to resist being poisoned by this nonexistent (but very existent to him) Bad that resides in him? putting up with him? just barely tolerating his existence?

like i genuinely think he might've been excited to have a soulmate when he was younger. and then he got older and things happened and he realized how much inherent terror there is in the concept of being bound to someone who could see him the same way he sees himself.

and i think that makes The Choice to Love™ really important to him. or even more so, the choice to BE loved. the choice to trust nithral's decision, because he trusts nithral. the choice to just. let go and let someone care about him and realize that it's not causing some kind of irreparable damage. in fact, quite the opposite, it seems!

honestly without the context of soulmate AU this sounds like an analysis of their canon relationship and i find that very funny but anyway yeah i'm uhhh EXTREMELY grrrawrawrawr rn. scuttling along my walls screaming at the top of my lungs like a Creature. thank you for listening to my TED talk

#; the citrus speaks #; this bard needs therapy #; lemon thesis moment #; soulmate shenanigans #; healing hands #now that's what i call A Thesis #wow #i did not expect to think this much about this lmfao #i. don't even know if i have anything to add in the tags #i guess just that thinking about the implication of a world where soulmates are a widely known thing‚ if they are #like what exactly does being bound by fate mean in this world #why do people think it inherently means romance #are there parents who hope their kiddos find their soulmates quickly? #parents who hope they never find them? #how many people are like nithral in that they just outright deny even having one? #it's just so fascinating #imagine wanting to worldbuild for the soulmate AU #could be me #is me #help #; lemon's inane ramblings #this has fucking six tags on it girl help

[ice-sculptures]

Okay well I’ve already forced u to look at most of my pets so I’m kinda just gonna copy u…what r ur favorite buck and/or eddie quotes?? I can NEVER think of any when I’m making graphics and u remember the show so much better than I do LOLL

OHHHHH MY GOD THERE'S SO MANY

some off the top of my head:

"two cut lines" - like. okay. i still maintain that the rest of the firefam doesn't actually know how close buck & eddie are and definitely do not fully realize the extent of buck's role in the diazes' life, but one thing that the rest of them Do know is that buck would rather die than leave eddie behind and i love tht these three simple words encapsulate the strength of that undying devotion

"and that started with you. whatever happens to him next, you gave him that second chance. maybe that's the point." i will never ever ever ever ever ever be over this scene and how buck found the exact words to bring eddie back from the brink and show him that what he does matters, that there's still hope, that there are things worth living for and that he made a difference in someone's life. and i think that this right here is more than romance more than love this is just. soulmatism right here. i mean....to be seen to be found isn't that what we're all searching for?

AND ON THAT NOTE. BUCK. THERE'S NOBODY IN THIS WORLD THAT I TRUST WITH MY SON MORE THAN YOU. makes me fucking INSANE because what do you mean eddie forgave him instantly?? in any other show with any other pairing this would be a season long arc with the two of them tentatively reconciling at the very end of it all. anybody else would be (understandably, i might add) nervous to leave christopher with buck after what happened, but eddie forgave buck immediately. eddie, who adores chris with all of his heart and soul, who loves that boy more than anything else in this world, saw not that buck wasn't able to hold onto chris, but that he loved him enough to try. he didn't hold it against him for chris getting swept away, he only focused on the buck that spent all day bloody and bruised, searching for his heart. but more than anything, i think he saw all of that love and heartbreak and guilt and the self doubt that matches his own reflected in buck and decided to give his best, truest friend the chance that was never given to him 🥺😭

"comes in handy when you have a bunch of holes in the wall" i can't explain why i love this bit of casual reassurance so much but i just. i think it's so simple and so sweet and a testament to how they make each other feel so loved so easily :(

i don't remember the exact quote right now but do you remember that scene where eddie and hen are gossiping about hen's mom and eddie says that his abuela would love the tea bc she loves telenovelas and buck beams at him w the fondest grin ever and teases eddie about loving telenovelas too? i know they're soulmates and in love and all of that shit but they're also Best Friends and i love all these little reminders of how well they know each other and how much they genuinely like each other. also this being in the same episode as buck's look of complete confusion when his long term gf tells him she loves him was a Choice™️

"just gonna be you and me" from the LS crossover episode for no reason other than it was cute & i love buck's subsequent jealousy

"guess all that company must've wore you out" bc of the obvious Implications that maddie tried to rope eddie into her plan of sending buck visitors to cheer him up and eddie straight up said no because he knew that wasn't going to help. yet another one of the million examples of these two knowing exactly what the other person needs & also Being exactly what the other person needs

"three minutes and seventeen seconds" because what do you MEAN he knows the exact amount of time buck was dead for. what do you mean he counted the seconds that he lived in this world without his best friend, praying and begging that he could outrun the clock and he wouldn't reach the time that would make it permanent. what do you mean he memorized the amount of time and then he threw out that line so casually because he couldn't stand the way they were talking about buck's death as something fascinating instead of as the worst three minutes and seventeen seconds of eddie's life...

the one-two punch that is "you don't need to pretend with me" and "you don't have to be anything for anybody" because both of them have spent so much of their lives not feeling good enough and not truly living for themselves...and yet around each other they've never had to do that and are free to be nothing but themselves and still be loved not despite it, but for it.

and finally last but not least....the very thesis of their relationship: "you can have my back any day" / "yeah. or, you know, you could… you could have mine" because it's stayed true ever since the first day they met and will remain true for the rest of their lives. also i'll never stop thinking about how 911 straight up said "isn't that what we all want in a partner? knowing that they have your back?" in the season five finale and have shown time and again that buck and eddie have tried to accomplish this in their previous relationships but have only ever been able to have a full and true partnership with each other...yeah that shit will Haunt me forever

this is probably incomprehensible but my mind is running at a million miles an hour right now so i am not going to go back and edit it

#thank u sosososo much for this ask but also. i love seeing pics of your cats please feel free to send 10000000000 more of them #buddie #answered #cam tag

[wardenparker]

Sassenach and the Spaniard - ch 14

Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.  

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ just like this blog Word Count: 18.1k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).** Pero versus the modern world, reader being an absolute cat mom, discussion of past lives, implications of past lives, wedding talk (I’m not sorry), more dubious Spanish. Vaginal sex, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, public sex, clothed sex,  Summary: Building a modern life with Pero may have ups and downs, but the way he adjusts shows just how glad he is to be with you again.  Notes: This is it, folx! The last chapter of Sassenach and Pero’s love story for the literal ages. Look out for the epilogue next week and then we’ll be moving on to the ✨6th✨ installment of the Soulmate universe!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Travel has changed. Pero exhales quietly when you stop your car - a different one than you had driven him around in first time. It had been a conversation about renting cars that he vaguely understood but just figured it was like borrowing a horse. The plane taking off had left him white knuckled and shaking and he didn’t know how people acted like it was normal. Although once you were in the air, it had become a smooth experience and he still couldn’t believe that he had traveled so far so quickly.

“Well…this is it. Home sweet home.” The apartment building you’ve been living in for years has looked the same since the day you moved in, and the off-white walls and brick trim are comforting after all these years. “Our apartment is on the fifth floor,” you tell him, pointing up at a set of windows with blue curtains and some plants visible on the inside of the sill. “Beth will be home from work in about a half hour. Which will give you time to meet your new cat roommate.”

It amuses Pero that you have a cat in this time as well. “Binx missed you.” He hums with a smirk on his face. “But she was happy with Wena when I left.” The building is huge, and he cannot imagine living so high, but it will provide a clear view of the surroundings.

“She was the best familiar I could have asked for. I guess I’m just not happy unless I have a mouser in the house.” You pop the trunk of your little car and reach in for the bags but Pero is there before you, lifting both bags easily and shooting you a sour expression for even thinking he would let you do otherwise. After seeing other men do the same at various places and in the airport there had been an explanation of the term ‘chivalry’ and he was appalled that you had not told him that he was expected to behave this way in your time. You had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but he hadn’t let you lift anything beyond your own purse since.

The compartment on this car was most convenient and Pero slams it shut, shooting you a slightly sheepish look when it was too harsh. Shouldering the bags, he turns towards the building. “It does not have defenses.” He mutters to himself, remembering you say that there is no need for fortifications in your time. “Where is the stable for the horses, the animals?”

“People who have horses keep them separately. It is a luxury now. Almost everyone has a car but keeping horses is mostly for the rich.” The lobby of your building is accessible by a keypad that you punch a code into, and the mailman inside greets you with familiarity. Pete has been the postman for this building longer than you’ve lived here, so you smile reassuringly at Pero and introduce him to the kindly mid-50s man who brings the post every day. “Name on the mailbox will be changing soon,” you tell Pete with pride.

Pero watches the interaction with interest. He’s had to watch you, his own demeanor not very welcoming. He can tell that he cannot be quite so intimidating or threatening in this time.

“Pete’s a nice man.” You press the button for the elevator to bring you upstairs and lean into Pero’s side while you wait. “His wife throws this big Passover Seder every year and a giant Hanukkah party on the first night and they invite people that he knows from work. I used to go with Beth every year so she wouldn’t have to go alone. But I have a feeling she and Will will be throwing the parties now.” Your best friend and her soulmate are definitely those kinds of people - the hosts with the most, as you like to tease them. You won’t be surprised at all when Beth finally announces that she’s moving in with him.

Pero nods, recognizing the holidays from the communities that he had grown up around in Spain. “That sounds like a good thing. There was food and music and laughter every time I went to one.” He only remembers them with the innocence of youth, but it was always fun. His parents were happy and it makes him smile.

“Here we go.” The elevator doors open and you step forward, bringing him with you by the hand. “You flew in an airplane, this should be easy,” you tell him encouragingly. “You just press the floor number that you want to go to, and the elevator will lift or lower us to that floor.”

This is even more amazing than the stairs that moved on their own. His eyes widen and he grunts when the car lurches up and he grabs onto the side of the wall as the sensation of being lifted once again races through his stomach. “It will only take a minute.” The way he’s clutching the wall and your hand makes you smile and squeeze his hand gently in response.

“It is— so…sudden.” Pero huffs slightly, embarrassed that he is so affected by things that seem so normal to you and everyone else. “I will become accustomed to it.”

“And if you don’t like it, we can always take the stairs.” Five floors is a lot, but with so many things to adjust to, you wouldn’t begrudge Pero deciding that there are some that he doesn’t like or isn’t comfortable with.

He glowers at you slightly, taking it as an insult that he would not be man enough to handle this box you have him in. “No.”

“Okay.” All you can really do is nod, knowing the both of you have your stubborn moments like anyone else. Although maybe more often. When you get out of the elevator you show him down the hall, stopping in front of the door marked 5C. “This is it,” You tell him, pulling your key from your pocket. “I already sent the landlord a note asking for a key for you. It should be made for tomorrow. So you can come and go anytime you like.”

Pero looks at the key, frowning in concentration as he watches you use it. He doesn’t understand why a bar on the door is not good enough anymore, but he just considers it a modern thing and nods when the door swings open.

The agonized screaming of an obviously neglected, dramatic-as-hell cat is the very first sound you hear, and both you and Pero smile reflexively. “Hi, Bow-baby!” You laugh when the black and white cat comes trotting into view. “Mama brought you a new friend.”

The first gato had been wary of Pero, watching him with intelligent, wary eyes. This one is the complete opposite. The moment the fat black and white cat spots Pero, it’s like you do not exist. He makes a beeline for Pero, screaming his head off and immediately climbing his leg to get into the Spaniard’s arms. Apparently telling him about every wrong done to him as Pero blinks in bewilderment.

“Oh, I see how it is. Furry little traitor.” You grouse only for comedic effect, loving to see your usually picky cat go straight to your soulmate for attention. “It’s okay, amor. You can pick him up. He’s much cuddlier than Binx was.”

Reaching down, Pero pulls the cat up into his arms, rewarded with immediate head butts and the cat rubbing his scent all over him while purring loud enough to sound like the thundering of hooves. “It seems he likes you.” And it seems Pero returns the affection, or at least doesn’t hate it, from the way he is already scratching under Bowie’s chin and letting the cat inspect him fully.

His time with Binx is so recent in his mind that he doesn’t mind the affectionate cat. “At least you were not alone when you came home, bruja.”

“Not at all.” Leading him through to the back bedroom, you realize what a whirlwind you were in the morning you got the phone call from Sarah at the roadside. There is a mess left behind and you clear your throat slightly, obviously embarrassed. “This is our room…I, erm…I usually keep it neater than this…I was kind of in a hurry to get to you a few days ago…”

“I have lived in your bed before, sí?” Pero reminds you, unconcerned with mussed bedding and clothes thrown around. It does not matter to him, as long as you are here. “Does your ’roommate’ know what has happened? That I am here?”

“Yes.” That had happened immediately. As soon as you had hung up with him and Sarah, you had started texting Beth frantically. “She knows everything. I just don’t know how much she’s told Will — her soulmate.”

Pero hums, wondering if it would seem crazy to a man who had not witnessed your return like your friend had. He has to thank Beth for saving you when you came back through the Stones, getting you a healer.

“I mean, he knows about you,” you clarify quickly. “Beth doesn’t keep anything from him, including what happened to me. I just don’t know if she’s told him yet that you came home with me.” It had taken over a month for Will to stop looking at you like you might have a nervous breakdown at any second, but the discovery of Arwena’s grimoire among your grandmother’s things had been a convincing argument. After that, he had started to come around to the craziness of it all.

He grunts, holding the cat still as he looks around your room. It is all different from the room he had stayed in at the inn, but it must reflect you in your own time. Like your cottage had in his time.

“We’ll make it into both of our space.” For some reason his silence is making you nervous, even though grunts and huffs are practically a second language for Pero. “Or, if you hate it here, we can…we can find something else. I don’t really care as long as you’re happy.”

"Why would I hate it?" Pero asks, turning towards you with a quizzical expression on his face. "This is you." One hand leaves the cat to wave around the room. "All of this. It is – it is like your cottage. Telling me who you are here."

“I don’t know.” You shrug slightly, looking around and avoiding his eyes as you move to make space for his clothes in your dresser. “I just know that everything here is so different and I wouldn’t blame you in the least if you didn’t like it here.” It’s nerves, you tell yourself, trying to steady your own breathing. Bringing him home - to your actual home - is the scariest thing you’ve ever done. Even though he chose to come here, he didn’t really know what he was choosing until after he arrived.

Pero huffs, rolling his eyes at you. "Sí, it is much different, but I don't care." He tells you bluntly. "I want to be where you are, when you are. The only thing that will change that is if you no longer wish me here." You are unsettled and he doesn't like it. He doesn't want you to worry about him.

“Of course I want you here.” The idea that you ever wouldn’t is so unbelievable that you actually can’t even imagine it. “I’m sorry. This is just…I know it’s hard for you. And don’t tell me that it isn’t just to make me feel better, because I’ve also time traveled.” Shaking your head slightly, you come back across the room and take a very indignant Bowie out of his arms so you can situate yourself there instead. “I love you, and I’m happy that you’re here.”

"It is different." Pero hums, not denying that he is out of his element. "But I am warm, I have food in my belly, and you are here." He reminds you. "I am a simple man, maybe too simple in your time, but I am who I am."

“There’s nothing simple about having your needs met. Survival is still very hard for some people.” Holding on to him tightly, you blow out a breath when you hear the front door open and Bowie hiss dramatically from the hallway. “Sounds like Beth is home,” you laugh, knowing that a cursing match between your best friend and grumpy cat is all but assured each and every day. “Would you like to meet her?”

"Will she approve?" He asks, suddenly nervous. You had spoken about this Beth woman and how much she had meant to you. Now he is afraid that he might not live up to her approval.

“You have nothing to worry about.” If anything, Beth is endlessly curious about Pero. She has been hearing about him for months, and you doubt you’ve done any description of him justice.

He would do anything you want, including meeting your friend so he just nods and wipes his hands on his new jeans. The shoes you had bought him, ‘sneakers’, were comfortable and he rocks on them slightly.

“Bethy!” Calling her name out into the hall, you step out of your room with Pero’s hand tangled in yours. “We’re home.”

Pero holds your hand tight, eyes widening slightly when he hears a screeching that is undoubtably excited and hears the pounding of foot steps rushing towards the two of you.

“Wait wait wait wait wait!” But you’re already cackling as your best friend launches herself at you, practically jumping up into your arms excitedly. “I missed you, too,” you laugh, hugging Beth tightly.

It is exuberant, the type of greeting Pero had seen Arwena give you during those last lessons in the cottage before having to flee. He can’t help but grin at the sight as he folds his arms over his chest and tries to smother it so he can look serious.

"Beth." You're both still giggling, but you try to compose yourself long enough to talk. "This," you motion to the man beside you as Beth sets herself on her own two feet again. "Is Pero. Pero, this is my best friend, Beth."

Pero nods to the woman who you call your best friend. It’s shocking to see her, because she looks nothing like he had imagined from your glow descriptions of her. She is pretty, but doesn’t hold a candle to you. “Señorita.” He murmurs.

"The famous Pero Tovar." Beth is practically vibrating with excitement, truly not having thought that this day would ever come. Though she believed your story completely, she never really thought that your soulmate would be able to come through the Stones. When you had texted her a few days ago that he was successful, she had been in a state of near shock all morning. "Welcome to the twenty-first century."

Pero grunts, his lips twisting slightly and there is an amused gleam in his eyes. “Yes, where green and purple hair is now common.” He jokes, having asked you questions about the wild shades he has seen. Beth is sporting bright blue streaks in her black hair.

"Surely you can adjust to multi-colored hair in a world that also has every flavor of ice cream you can imagine." Beth grins. You had told her about Pero's brand new addiction to ice cream, and his unfortunate first encounter with brain freeze as a result.

He huffs, smirking slightly at her sass and nods. “It is more colorful.” He admits, not minding it at all and asking if you liked colors like that.

"Did you get screamed at by her demon child on the way in?" Beth asks, shaking her head on a grin. Bowie has unceremoniously disappeared, probably to his scratching tree in the living room.

“Gato?” Pero asks, sending you a confused look. “The cat is very loving.” He insists when Beth nods. The cat was very greedy for attention and was not happy when you took him away from Pero.

"Bowie and Beth aren't huge fans of each other," you tell him with a grin, seeing the frustrated twist on your best friend's face that your cat has clearly taken to Pero immediately.

"He's a menace!" She insists, throwing up her hands dramatically.

"He's a darling angel and my fluffy little son." You insist, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounds.

“He came right up to me and demanded to be held.” Pero tells her, watching her eyes widen and he can practically see the steam pouring out of her ears.

"Menace," she mutters again, shaking her head. At this point, though, she has somewhat of a sense of humor about it. If she didn’t, she'd have lost her mind at that cat a long time ago.

"So, are we seeing Will tonight?" Turning the topic away from your cat and onto her soulmate always perks her up, and you motion toward the living room to suggest a change of scenery. This way you can all at least be comfortable in the same space together.

“Will…” Pero murmurs the name, a flash of nostalgia for his friend from so long ago. “I knew a man named William once. His bow was—” Pero chuckles. “We had a lot of free drinks showing off his skills.”

"William was your best friend." Beth nods. "She...she told me all about you. You, and Arwena, and Briac. You're practically all she's talked about since she came back."

“That is—” Pero is surprised that you had talked so much about him, but his chest puffs out slightly in pride. “I can’t imagine there is much to have talked about.”

"Are you kidding?" In the living room, Beth kicks off her shoes and takes out her phone as she sits down in the armchair to let you and Pero sit together on the couch. "Adventure after adventure. And fighting monsters on the Great Wall of China? It's incredible." She smiles when her phone buzzes in her pocket, and then again more broadly when she taps the screen to open her text. "Um...so Will is finishing up at work and wants to know if he can bring over take-out to say 'welcome home'."

"It's up to you," you tell Pero honestly. Your internal clocks are five hours ahead of schedule thanks to jetlag and you'll end up crashing earlier than Beth and Will, but you don't want to overwhelm Pero with meeting more people after a full day of modern travel if that is going to exhaust him.

Pero immediately nods. “This is your home and he is your soulmate.” The feeling of being apart from you with the possibility of never seeing you again had made him wish that partners could never be parted. “But— what is ‘take out’?” He asks.

"Take out is ordering food from a restaurant but instead of eating it there, you bring it home with you." Leaning into his side on the couch, you shoot Beth a mischievous grin. "Ask him if Chinese is okay. We can put in an order to the place on the corner if he doesn't mind picking it up for us on his way over."

Pero’s eyes light up. “Chinese?” He demands, nodding quickly. “Yes. That—you told me about it. I want to eat that.” He nearly begs. “And ice cream.”

"There's Häagen-Dazs in the freezer." Beth shoots Pero a grin. "I picked some up as soon as your girl said you fell in love with it." She taps out a quick reply to her own soulmate, smiling all the while, and then opens a different app to order food. "Anything special I should add to our regular order?"

"Yeah..." You grin at Pero. "Spicy noodles and mandarin beef. And an extra order of fried dumplings." Since your 'usual' order is already quite large this should be enough food for lunch again tomorrow, but Pero has a way of making that food supply dwindle that you don't mind. It's not as though food was ever plentiful enough in his life before for him to eat his fill.

“There was this dish.” Pero tell her. “Roasted bird – duck, with a honey sauce on it.” He doesn’t know if they would have it now, but maybe. His mouth waters as he remembers it. “Do they have that too?”

"Peking duck?" Beth nods, mouth watering immediately. "It's my favourite. We're absolutely ordering one." Hell, if she could she'd be adding bottles of plum wine and enough fried ice cream for it not to matter that there's six different flavours of Häagen-Dazs already waiting in the freezer to be consumed.

“Yes. That.” Pero nods, nearly rubbing his hands together as he thinks about the tender and juicy meat. “It was the meal we had when we celebrated defeating the monsters.”

"It might be slightly different than you remember...being a thousand years later and all of that." Beth adds the duck to the order and ignores the growing total, knowing that this meal is a celebration all its own. "I'm glad that there are some things that transcend time, though. Delicious food being one of them."

“Food is food.” Pero huffs. “Some is better washed down with ale to ignore the taste. Some is good with water.”

“Food can be pleasurable.” Beth smirks as she gets up from her chair to grab a drink from the kitchen. “Especially when licked from the correct surface.”

Pero narrows his eyes before he leans over to you. “She is talking about—” He flushes slightly. “That thing that you told me about?”

“It doesn’t have to be chocolate syrup,” you chuckle softly at his reaction, knowing how crass he can be when he wants to. “I just suggested that because you love chocolate.”

“I do love chocolate.” Pero groans, reaching out and pulling you close. “And it would taste sweeter from your skin.”

“I guess you’ll have to make sure you save room for dessert then, won’t you?” The salacious wink you give him is met with a grin and you don’t hesitate to steal a kiss. “It’s a damn good thing we always have chocolate sauce in the fridge.”

He growls quietly and tugs you closer, not happy with such a brief kiss. “Bruja.” He hisses playfully, nipping your lip.

Pulled directly into his lap, you stifle a giggle and do your best to look very, very serious as you drag your knuckles along his jaw. “I thought you like that I’m a bruja?” You tease, knowing very well that he had said the words himself on more than one occasion.

“Never doubt that, mi sol.” Pero murmur, leaning into your touch and his eyes flutter quickly. “It is why you could come to me. His hands squeeze your ass possessively. “And why I am here now.”

“Does that make you a brujo? Is that even a word?” Whether it is or not, you’re just glad Beth hasn’t come back from the kitchen yet since your hips seem to grind down on his automatically at the grip of his large hands.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “No.” He leans forward and drags his nose along your throat, pressing kisses with his lips along your warm skin. It does, but he is not going to admit that. Preferring to distract you.

“Pero…” He has this way of making your skin tingle everywhere and your eyelashes flutter when he kisses that part of your throat that has you whining in no time - and it’s nearly impossible to remind yourself that there is someone else in the apartment right now. “Estas siendo travieso, mi amor.” You’re being naughty, my love.

“Me gusta ser travieso.” I like being naughty. Pero grins against your skin and leans back to send you a smug wink. “I have not had enough of you.”

“If you’re gonna fuck on the couch, please put a towel down first.” Beth snorts, standing in the doorway with a glass of ginger ale in her hand and a smirk painted across her face.

“I promise,” you huff, cheeks more than a little warm with embarrassment as Pero’s fingers dig a little more into your hips.

Pero grunts and gives Beth a small shrug. “I will fuck her with your towel down then.” He agrees. “We will wait until you are not here.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that, I just don’t want to be watching tv in a pile of dry cum.” She shrugs matter-of-factly and steps back, waving as she goes. “I’ll be in my room until my boyfriend gets here! Have fun!”

Pero smirks as he admires your friend’s teasing, which has you looking as if you want to melt into the floor in embarrassment. “What is ’boyfriend’?” He’s learned that if he doesn’t understand something, it’s best to ask right away. “Is that what you call soulmates now?”

“Sort of?” Still perched in his lap, you turn your full attention back to Pero and shrug off Beth’s teasing. “A boyfriend is a man that you are having a relationship with, but you have not yet agreed to be married. Like when Arwena and Briac used to spend time at the cottage with us, I would have said they were ’boyfriend and girlfriend’ back then.”

Pero scowls slightly and shakes his head. “They have not agreed to wed? Why do they wait? They are soulmates.”

“Some people like to take their time with important life decisions, and some people dive right into them. It’s all personal preference.” Of course, his visa - no matter how legally or illegally it was obtained for you - does put you on a bit of a schedule. But 90 days is nothing for two people who are already married. The modern paperwork is merely a formality.

“There is more freedom in this time.” Pero admits. “For women. I can see that.”

“There is. But we still don’t have all the freedoms that men do.” Gender politics isn’t really top of your list for a discussion right now, though, and you tuck a stray hair behind his ear affectionately. “Honestly? I don’t think they will wait too much longer before they get engaged.”

“What is this William like?” Pero asks, sensing you aren’t enamored with the conversation.

“He’s a good man.” That much you can say without hesitation. “Competitive but caring, loyal, and very helpful. And he makes Beth happy, which is what matters most to me.”

Pero nods and squeezes your ass again. There have been a lot of changes for him, but for you as well. “She likes me, sí?” He asks, suddenly nervous that the reason Beth left was because she did not like him.

“If she didn’t, she would still be here interrogating you like a criminal.” You dip your head, kissing him softly and feeling the heat of just a few minutes ago melt away into sweetness and reassurance. “You have nothing to fear, amor.”

“I feel like a brat.” Pero complains, hating the unsettled way that he feels. He knows it’s because everything is different for him, and that he relies on you to make sure that he navigates this world properly. Still, he feels like he is a boy who knows nothing of the world.

“You have been in this world for only four days, love.” The frown on his face isn’t his usual scowl, but something far more sincere that makes you soften and sit back in his lap with your brows knit together. “I know it’s frustrating. Truly I understand. But you’re doing wonderfully. No one could learn an entirely new life in just four days.”

He sighs, knowing you’ve seen his true meaning. “I know, but I should be able to.” He insists, being stubborn about it. “Perhaps I need to write things down.” You had started his writing and Wena had continued it during the year without you.

“Would you like a notebook for your thoughts?” A journal isn’t a terrible idea at all, actually, and you wonder that you didn’t think of it before. “We can certainly do that for you.”

“Paper is not costly anymore, is it?” He asks, amused at everything they considered luxuries in his time are common objects.

“Not anymore.” You shake your head, still smiling at him softly. You really just can’t help yourself. “And we have pencils now. Instead of ink, you write with something called graphite, which can be erased if you make a mistake.”

“Next you will tell me that scars can be removed.” Pero chuckles, not imagining such a thing to be possible. But then again, he never imagined things like a car or a plane. It makes him wonder about weapons.

“Welll…” The best you can do is shrug sheepishly. “In a way, yes. They can. It is expensive, but there are surgeons - special healers - that can do it.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful as he brushes the apple of your cheek and his thumb caresses the bottom of your scar. “Have you thought of such things?” He asks curiously. He knows scars are different for women than men, but he wants to know if you are trying to hide it here like you first had when he saw you.

“Why would I hide the marks that we share?” Nothing in the world could be less desirable to you, especially when he is here in front of you for you both to see the proof that you belong together.

“I do not see why.” Pero admits, but he leans in and kisses your brow, where the scar causes your hair to not grow. “But I am different from you.” He hums.

“Would you prefer to remove your scars?” It’s a decision that would be entirely up to him, although you have to admit it would surprise you. While Pero is proud, he has never struck you as particularly vain.

“No.” Pero immediately shakes his head. “I have noticed that women in this time are very…adorned.” He murmurs. “They wear a lot of face paint and put a lot of value on their beauty. I do not wish you to be upset because of what that bastard did to you.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” Certainly you’ve gotten more than your fair share of funny looks in the last six months, but it doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it might. Your scar shows you have survived. It’s as simple as that. “As long as you love me, that is all that matters.”

“Siempre.” Pero murmurs, turning his head to kiss you again. Always.

The knock on the door keeps things from getting carried away, and Beth buzzes past in the hallway to let William inside with dinner. She’s practically squeaking with excitement - never one to hide how she feels about anything - and you climb out of Pero’s lap reluctantly to take the heavy bags of take-out from his hands. Dinner sounds great, but you’ll definitely be saving room to have Pero for dessert later on.

The smells take him back. To that large dining hall filled with soldiers. Closing his eyes, he can almost see the wooden tables ladened down with bowls of rice and plates of bread, the fragrant meats and vegetables to be spooned over the top. It was probably the best he had ever eaten as a man until your cottage. He’s taken back to China as he inhales, so when he opens his eyes, they settle on the man who had brought the food and he gasps. “William!”

“Oh! Uh…hello!” Will isn’t sure what the expectation is in this situation, but he puts his hand out automatically to great the odd man in his soulmate’s living room. There probably isn’t a protocol for meeting your soulmate’s roommate’s time traveling soulmate, but he’s just going to be nice and hope that’s enough.

He’s staring, and he knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. Grabbing the other man’s hand, Pero drags him closer, the sight of him almost too much even though he knows this cannot be his William Garin. He looks exactly like his old friend. Right down to the gold flakes in the blue of his eyes.

“Pero, right?” He knows. He’s heard all about the intense warrior from your stories. But he hadn’t expected to feel so…connected to the man. Especially one that he arguably has nothing in common with. He can’t deny the tug in his gut, though. The one that says he is supposed to know this man.

Pero nods, eyes narrowing and his grip on William’s hand increases in pressure. “Who are your people?” He asks gruffly. “Where do you come from?”

“Chicago.” The question seems strange when this man knows barely anything about America, but William holds the handshake and Pero’s eyes. “We’re Irish, if that’s what you mean? Irish and English.” Is this how medieval people used to greet each other? If it is, it’s weird.

“Irish.” Pero huffs, rolling his eyes and he looks over at you. He knows he looks crazy. “He is the spitting image of the bastard I left in China. The same one I had parted with right before I met you.”

“Really?” That shakes off your concern right away, and the effect is like dominoes. You relax, so Beth does, and Will does as well. “I’m getting really good at ancestry research, maybe we can figure out if Beth’s Will is related to your William?”

“Did you have a rumor of China in your family?” Pero asks Will, finally letting go of his hand. He flexes his hand and huffs out a laugh. “And do you shoot better than anyone else?”

“I was Army before I started my security company, so I’m— yeah, I mean, I was a sniper. You have to be a good shot.” Will follows you and Beth with the bags of food and Pero is at your other side as the four of you file into the dining room. “But China?” He thinks for a second, hands automatically moving when Beth takes things out of the hutch and starts to pass plates and flatware around. “I know my great-grandma loved Chinese stories. Like fairy tales and stuff. But I don’t know if she thought we were Chinese.”

“William— my friend, he stayed in China after we defeated the monsters.” Pero tells him. “He married a General of the Nameless Order.”

William’s head pops up in surprise, and he sets the plate in his hands down much more heavily than he meant to. “The Nameless Order was real?”

“You have heard of it.” Pero nods, sure that this man is somehow related to his friend.

“My great-gran’s stories.” The younger man shakes his head in disbelief. “She would tell us folklore as bedtime stories when she babysat us growing up. Some Gaelic stories, American folktales, but mostly Chinese. I just thought she was really into Chinese history.”

“We went to China in search of black powder.” Pero tells all of you. “It took us nearly a year to get there, we lost all of the men we traveled with, nearly thirty.”

“Thirty?” Beth’s jaw drops a little as she brings cans of soda to the table. “And a whole year? Jesus. Where were you traveling from?”

“We started in Brittany.” Pero smirks slightly. “Although if I had met Sassenach, I would not have gone.” He jokes, knowing he had been a far different man before China. One you wouldn’t have put up with him.

“We would have had a much different meeting.” You can’t even imagine what it would have been like to just run into him in the village or meet him on the road. Your relationship would have been very different right off the bat.

“Yes we would have.” Pero can admit that and he reaches for your hand to pull you into his side. “I much prefer you saving me.”

“I much prefer you surviving your illness as well.” He earns a kiss for saying something so sweet, though, and you urge him to sit down next to you afterward.

“But William was the most annoying Irish bastard that I’ve ever met.” He grumbles, even with a fond smile on his face. “Impossible to kill.”

“We must be related then,” Will jokes, laughing as he and Beth start to open containers and pass dishes around. “My brother’s the most annoying shit in the world. And I never did manage to kill him when we were kids.”

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “He was like my brother. Making me want to kill him. Nearly getting blown up because of him, twice.”

“Sounds like a brother to me.” William laughs. “Blood brothers, brothers in arms, it’s all the same. You love them but you wanna strangle them with your bare hands sometimes.”

“Absolutely.” Pero grunts, relaxing a little bit more now that William understands the bond he shared with the other William.

Plates are filled in just a few minutes’ time and everyone digs into dinner. Bowie’s mournful yowls from the other room are only squelched when the cat wanders in and twists his body up at Pero’s feet, making Beth huff indignantly, and you and William only laugh.

“What?” Pero frowns as he reaches down and slips the cat a bit of the duck and scratches behind his ears until his purrs sound like a loud motor. “He is a good gato.”

“I’m apparently the only person in the world that he doesn’t like,” Beth complains, but there is a smile underneath it. It’s been so long now that it’s almost an affectionate joke.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you because of his past life.” Pero suggests, still scratching his ears.

"What do you mean?" Asks Beth, who obviously was not expecting that answer.

“Cats have lives. Many of them. Just like we do.” He explains. “Maybe your previous life intersected with his.”

"So...Bowie doesn't like me because of something that happened between us in a previous life?" It's as good an explanation as any, Beth decides, and she picks up a piece of duck from her plate to offer to the typically bristly feline. "In case, Bow, I sincerely apologize."

There’s a moment where Pero, probably everyone else in the room too, thinks that Bowie will hiss or swat at the offering. There is the slight sniff from the tuxedo cat, as if to say ’about damn time’, and he stretches away from Pero to take the morsel of duck from Beth’s hand and even brushes his cheek against her skin, marking her with his scent. Seemingly accepting the apology.

"Well I'll be damned." The whole table seemed to hold their breath but when Beth laughs in surprise, everyone exhales in relief. "I guess the war is over?"

Pero smirks slightly when Bowie yowls in agreement and curls up next to her feet, settling down to nap.

******

After the intrigue of that first dinner together, Pero and Will’s friendship blossomed immediately. His social circle grew to include some of Will’s previous gym buddies and friends from work, and though Pero isn’t necessarily social by nature it has helped immensely in getting him settled into his new life. Will had even had Pero into the office a few times in the last month and he was now talking like joining his security firm might be a chosen career path.

Pero comes rushing into the apartment, opening the door and stomping towards your shared bedroom. He hadn’t quite gotten into the habit yet of walking softly when he’s exited much to your downstairs neighbor’s dismay. He throws open the door and pins you with a harsh stare. “When were you going to tell me?” He huffs, feelings obviously hurt.

“Tell you what?” The pair of jeans in your hands crumbles instead of getting folded neatly, and you look at Pero with utter confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You said that modern marriages are very ‘low key’ things. Basically just signing a piece of paper.” He frowns and shakes his head. “This is not true.”

Shit. You slump a little, feeling caught, and wonder what the guys must have said to him at the gym today. “They can be, amor. There is no law that says we have to have a big, fancy wedding.”

Pero frown grows even deeper, eyes shuttering slightly. “Are you— do you not wish to have a wedding?” He asks quietly, wondering if you are ashamed of him as your soulmate. He has been working hard to adapt, but maybe it is not enough.

“I wish to have a marriage.” You stress the word, laying down the jeans from your hands and coming to put your arms around him. The rate at which he has been adjusting to modern life is fairly astounding, but you see how hard he works every day to do things ‘right’ and how much having friends has helped him. “We have already had a wedding. In Gretna. And it was beautiful. I didn’t think we needed to make a fuss out of the second one. But obviously you feel differently?”

He nods. “You deserve it. Our vows were rushed and while beautiful, you deserve a party for putting up with me.” He smirks slightly at his joke. “What is a bachelor party? William said I must have one and you must have a…a woman’s party.” He cannot remember the term his friend had used, but it sounded like it was necessary to a wedding.

“Will wants to throw you a bachelor party?” That honestly makes you chuckle a little, and you squeeze your arms around his waist in a gentle hug. “It is a party to celebrate a man who is getting married and also mourn the loss of his time as a single man. Usually, the other men of the wedding party take the groom out and get him very drunk, feed him well, and sometimes take him to see women dance with very little clothing on. The version for the bride is mostly the same, but sometimes instead of dancing men, women will go and have their own fun. Dancing or pampering themselves. It all depends on what the bride and groom like.”

Pero frowns slightly and tries to imagine seeing a woman that is not you without her clothes on. “I do not wish to watch some woman who is not you dance.” He huffs, finally figuring out why everyone chuckled when Will had told him that he would take him to the ‘club’.

“Then you don’t have to.” It’s actually quite charming and romantic, how deeply loyal Pero is and how he doesn’t even like to look at models in clothing ads. “You can do anything you like at your bachelor party. You just have to tell Will what you want it don’t want.”

“Yes, I will tell him.” Pero nods and turns the conversation back to you. “Be truthful.” He murmurs. “Would you like to have a wedding here with your friends and family?” He asks. “We had one we think of often with Briac and Arwena, should we not here?”

“Big weddings cost a lot of money.” And the practical part of you says that you’ve already had a wedding - so why bother? But there is also the part of you that wonders what a modern white wedding with Pero would even be like. “We couldn’t do anything too big anyway, since we only have two more months on your visa. But…” The shrug you give him is somewhat sheepish, as you can feel the warmth in your cheeks admitting it. “I wouldn’t mind a celebration. I do want you to meet my family at some point, and a wedding would definitely make that happen.”

“You said we could do what we wanted, sí?” Pero asks. “That would be fun. Tell me what all a modern wedding requires?”

“Well…” Out in the living room, you sit down on the couch together and you pull out your phone to show him some pictures of wedding aesthetic boards and other ‘typical’ American wedding images. “We would rent out a place we think is pretty, hire people to cook and serve our food, have lots of flowers, and have a big cake to serve to everyone for dessert. The reception has lots of dancing and I’m supposed to wear a special white dress. You would have at least one person stand with you and sign our marriage certificate as your witness, and I would have one as well. At the reception people sometimes make speeches, or just wish us well in our married life. And there is a rehearsal dinner the night before where we practice the ceremony so everyone knows what they’re doing. It’s…a lot of work, honestly. But we would have a photographer there to take pictures like these so we can remember our day for the rest of our lives. It’s…like I said, it’s a lot of work, but weddings can be really special and really fun.”

“Do you want to do it?” The last thing that he wants is to make more work for you, but it does sound fun. Especially since he’s found that he loves pictures. To be able to see something to remember it is incredible. And to be able to have pictures of your modern marriage would be very nice.

“What if we did a small version of it?” It’s clear to you, from the concern and small amount of excitement on his face, that Pero likes the idea of a wedding. And god knows your parents would be over the moon about it. It’s no sacrifice at all when you know it will make the people you love happy and you’ll end up enjoying the day very much in the end. “Just my family and our close friends? I’m sure we can find some place that can accommodate us in the next few weeks.”

“How about outside?” Pero asks, finding there is a lot of natural places around your apartment building. “We could go to that place you showed last week.”

“The garden that we had lunch in with Beth and William and Beth’s abuela?” Pero’s affinity for gardens had taken you only slightly by surprise, but it has been fun to show him all the different plants and flowers that thrive in tropical temperatures he had never seen or experienced before. “Amor, that was Beth’s abuela’s house. I—I suppose we could ask her.” It never would have occurred to you, but Beth’s grandmother has literally won prizes for her gardening and her house is beautiful. It might even be a historical landmark, now that you’re thinking about it. “It might be much easier to have a wedding at a house, if she is okay with it. And of course I’ll offer to pay her for the trouble.”

Pero nods. “The abuela needed some work done. I can do it for her as well.” He offers, knowing that he will always try to barter even though it’s not normal now.

“Let’s ask Beth if she thinks her grandmother would be open to it when we see them for dinner tonight.” A week after Pero had returned, Beth and William had very gently announced that they were moving in together, and now the four of you have dinner together a few times a week on top of any girl time you spend with Beth or guy time that Pero spends with Will.

Pero pulls out the notebook he has started carrying. “We should write it down. What we want, sí?” He asks you hopefully, grinning because you are agreeing to have a wedding for him. You had said something about going down to the courthouse and signing some papers and that being it.

“We can absolutely make a list.” It’s very sweet, the way Pero has been carrying his notebook with him everywhere. The pocket-sized moleskin fits in his jeans or jacket and always has a pencil tucked inside it’s pages. Since his written English has improved, he has been very excited to employ it at every turn. “Would you like to have a very traditional wedding, amor? They can be very formal. But lots of younger couples these days do things less formally. It can be whatever we like.”

“I do not know what you mean, but I don’t think we would enjoy it if it was too rigid, amor.” He looks over at you. “William said most women dream of their wedding. What did you dream of?”

“You’ll laugh.” Or at least, most people would. But you roll your eyes at yourself and start looking for reference images for what you’re about to describe to him. “You know that television show I watch sometimes? The noble lady who does not wear shoes?” Your affinity for Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa had come back full force since returning home, and you find you love it even more now for the way it sometimes reminds you of life in the cottage in Brittany. The Barefoot Contessa’s generally French-inspired and ‘earthy’ upscale entertaining reminded you sometimes of the plates of vegetables, fruit, cheese, and cured meats you would put together for you and Pero. Simple dressings and dips and good bread had been something that you could use to make yourself feel particularly fancy. “I always imagined having a wedding like she would throw. In a beautiful garden with simple but really delicious food that goes late into the night because everyone is having so much fun eating and dancing and talking.”

“I will hunt for it.” Pero offers immediately, imagining bringing back game for you, for the wedding. “Roasted rabbit and a deer?” He asks, wondering if it would good. “Open spit? Like how I used to cook when we were traveling. Hunger made everything delicious, but I’ve wondered how it would taste with your herbs.”

“You could tell William that you want to go hunting for your bachelor party,” you offer, knowing that it’s something William and his friends also enjoy and that a weekend hunting trip would be right up all of their alleys. “There has to be a catering company somewhere this part of Florida that will agree to let us supply the meat and they’ll do all the cooking for us.”

“You could do one of those people that you watch on your…phone.” Pero frowns for a moment as he had forgotten the name of the device that seems to do everything for everyone in this time. Everyone is attached to it like it is their swords. “The people that come to you a cook? What was the word?”

“Caterers?” The nod you give him is fully encouraging. “Yes, I think we could find a caterer willing to cook what you hunt.” He writes it down when you speak the word for him and you smile again. “No one would know that your hunting is how you won a first kiss from me, but we will know.”

Pero smirks at the memory and bites his lip, his eyes flashing playfully. “I was showing off.” He admits. “I knew I could do it, but when you told me my prize was a kiss? I had to snare the rabbit.” He chuckles and leans in to steal another kiss. “Best hunt I ever went on.”

“With the longest lasting prize.” You hum into the kiss happily, settling into his side on the sofa. “Now…I know you will be excited about this. Modern weddings have elaborate and delicious cakes for dessert. And the bakery down in the corner that you like makes some beautiful ones.”

Pero groans, his love of food had definitely grown in this time. The sweets available mind blowing to a man who had only ever known honey or fruits as a source of sugar. The trips to the gym with William had been needed so he continued to fit the clothes you had bought him. “We must have that.” He decides, writing it down immediately and circling it for good measure. He’s enjoyed making his journal and re-reading through it when he feels unsure of himself, like training constantly when he was a boy.

“Yes, but what flavour will we have?” For a man who lived most of his life leanly, it has been the height of luxury for Pero to be able to eat whatever he wants at the drop of a hat, and your modern wedding day is no time to squelch that. You want him to have the most enjoyment he possible can.

His eyes lighting up at the prospect, Pero hums and his stomach grumbles on queue. “We will have to try them all and decide.” He announces, imagining going to that bakery and buying all the little cakes to stuff into his mouth happily. Everything in this time was so sweet and he was quickly addicted to it.

“We’ll get a cupcake in every flavour and try them all together.” You promise him, chuckling at how excited he is. “And then we can pick our favourite for our wedding cake. It will be a feast.”

That makes him grin, nodding quickly at that idea. It means that he will have dessert for at least a few days. Or he will make himself sick by eating them all at once. That has happened a few times. “What else do we need for a modern wedding?” He asks, not sure about everything involved.

“We’ll find someone to play music for us, and someone to take pictures for us.” He takes notes as you go and you press a kiss to his cheek with a grin. “You will need someone to be your best man and I will need someone to be my maid of honour. The people who stand next to us while we’re married and will sign our marriage certificate as witnesses.”

“Like Briac and Arwena.” Pero knows that you could have married with just Father Malcolm but both of you wanted the younger couple with you.

“Exactly.” He knows you’ve been missing the younger couple lately - he walked in on you telling Bowie stories of time spent with Arwena about a week ago. “Should we ask Beth and Will?”

Considering it for a moment, Pero nods. “It is a good choice.” There are more things about William that have Pero comparing him to the man he had traveled with to China and he has quickly become as close - although they have not battled together. “I will ask Will tonight.”

“I have a feeling this will be all we talk about at dinner.” And considering how adamant Beth has been about doing something wedding-y, you have a feeling she’ll be thrilled. “I’ll have to go without you to buy my dress. Superstitions say it’s bad luck for you to see my dress before the wedding.”

Pero frowns hard at this, but he eventually sighs when you just stare at him for a moment. “Truly? That is stupid.” He grunts, not having any clue what this dress shopping would include, but seeing a dress is not bad luck.

The way you smirk at him is nearly evil, knowing he’s going to be pouting even harder in just a second. “And we’re not allowed to spend the night together the night before the wedding. That’s bad luck, too.” And something you know your superstitious mother will enforce when she arrives, all in the name of caution and care.

“No.” Shaking his head, Pero’s scowl turns fierce. “Not happening. No way.” He’s adopted the phrase ‘no way’ from Will and it is very true here. “I don’t want to sleep apart from you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t like that.” The way this man love is fierce and doting, and you adore him for it. “We don’t have to sleep apart, amor. It’s just a superstition.”

“If you wanted to adhere to the superstition…I will deal with it.” He sighs with a very pouty huff as he reaches for your hand. “It is one night and I had far more without when you went through the Stones.”

“All the more reason not to waste the time we have now.” Never having been a particularly superstitious person despite being raised by one, you could care less. The reason you want to go dress shopping without him is to surprise him - not because of luck.

“Te amo.” Pero murmurs, unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss. “Flowers? Why do you need flowers? People are bathing regularly.”

"Because they're beautiful." You shrug, as though it were a silly answer. "Flowers are traditional for weddings, and people like to match their flowers to the colors they pick for the day. Make everything look coordinated." It's a lot of fuss, and you never intended to do all of this with him - but on the other hand? Now that you've started to plan, it is a little exciting.

“Colors?” Pero can’t even comprehend what you are meaning by that but he nods and writes it down. “What flowers would you want? Do you have a favorite?”

"Colors are...to make everything look nice, I guess." There's really no better way to describe it. "We can pick a couple of colors that look nice together, like...like green and yellow. Or blue and gray. And we would use those colors throughout the wedding. Like Beth would wear a dress in one of the colors or your suit might be in the other. The cake might be decorated with the colors, too. And I would probably have my flowers include the colors, too." Not that you have ever thought about wedding colors - not beyond thinking that your cousin's orange and pink wedding was a little too garish for your taste.

“Grey.” Pero decides immediately. “I like grey.” Shopping for clothes has introduced him to a plethora of colors but he has several shades of grey.

"Okay, we can work with that." Nodding into his side, you snuggle up again easily. "Grey and silver are pretty easy to work with. And almost any other color works with gray." Smiling, you tilt your head back and raise an eyebrow at him. "How about purple? We can be royalty for a day."

“Don’t you like green?” He asks, raising the question since he’s seen you wear a lot of that color. He will agree to anything you want honestly, but he doesn’t want you to pick colors he likes alone.

"I do." Words you will say to him in completely different context in just a few weeks’ time. "I like green and I also like purple. Actually...all three colors work together. We could have gray, green, and purple together?"

“That would work.” Pero bites his lip and thinks about it. “If you like it, that is what we will have.”

"I like it." And the purple bouquet with lots of greenery tied in a silky gray ribbon is already starting to take shape in your mind. You never really expected flowers to be the thing you fantasized about for your wedding, but here you are. "And I think you would look very handsome in a gray suit."

“Sí?” William had taken him to get a suit for the work that he wanted him to do. Pero found it rather restricting, but you had been very interested in it when he had shown you it to ask your opinion.

“Sí.” You tell him, a grin cracking the solemnity on your face. “A well-tailored suit is a thing of beauty, amor. Just the way you love when I wear a bikini to the beach, I enjoy seeing you in one.”

His expression is wolfish, about to devour you at just the mention of it. “The only thing better is having you naked, amor, and they would not allow that on your beaches.”

“I know another wedding thing you will like quite a lot.” You tease, sitting up in his arms to be nose-to-nose and grinning at him unrepentantly. “The brand new lingerie I will be buying to wear under my wedding dress just for my husband to take off of me that night.”

Pero growls, cock jumping in his pants and he narrows his eyes at you. “First you tell me I cannot sleep beside you, fuck you, the night before our wedding. Now you tease me with knowing something sexy is underneath it?” Sexy is another word he has learned and he uses it often where you are concerned. “I will drag you off over my shoulder once the vows are spoken, bruja.”

“You would not be the first groom to do it, either.” It draws a light laugh from you, and ringing your arms around his shoulders to hug him. “Our honeymoon will be nothing but sex, I can already see it.”

“The last one would have been more sex.” He reminds you, both of you now able to talk about you being so sick without breaking down. The first time you coughed around him after getting here, he had demanded you see a healer.

"I think we've been making up for lost time pretty well, don't you?" Since you have been working from home and Pero is doing some small freelance things for Will's security firm, you have had ample opportunity to fuck on every surface in the apartment. Multiple times.

“We have.” Pero smirks smugly, thinking about how he had woken you up this morning before he had been picked up so he could slide inside you. Both of you had rolled out of bed with a satisfied grin on your face.

"I, um..." Shifting slightly, you sit back on your ankles bite your lip. A thought had occurred to you about a week ago and you're not sure how he might feel about it. "I had a thought. About our honeymoon..."

Pero catches your hesitancy and frowns slightly, but he nods in order to get you to expand on your idea. “You wish to sleep apart? I will not do that. Not when you will be my wife. Never again.”

"Oh no way." You shake your head adamantly, trying to figure out where that idea even came from. "No, no, not at all. I meant I had an idea about where to go, that's all."

“Oh.” The jokes William and the others that he was around had made about Pero having to sleep on the couch after he got married were apparently wrong. The couch was comfortable and he had dozed on it, but he wanted to sleep on the bed where his wife is sleeping. “Where?”

"What if we went back to France?" The memories you have of the place aren't all positive, obviously, but everything involving him is wonderful. "I looked up the village that the cottage was near and...I mean, I'm not saying that I think our cottage would still be standing after a thousand years, but the village is still there. And I thought it might be romantic to go back there in our new life. To...remember."

“Yes.” His answer is immediate, almost forceful and he can see that it startles you slightly. “Sí.” He murmurs, reaching for your hand to hold it gently. “I would like to see it again. Where we found each other. I am certain I can find where the cottage stood.”

"Things will have changed a lot of the centuries, amor. It's okay if we don't find it." All you want is to breathe the air again, to feel those specific sunbeams and be in that place again with nothing but comfort and joy.

He hums, doubting that every natural marker the landscape had was removed. He will find your little cottage that he had shared with you. “We will find it.”

******

Dol-de-Bretagnac has grown since the eleventh century, rising up to swallow the little village you once called home and bringing it through the centuries beautifully. The inn you're staying in for your honeymoon is one of a dozen converted medieval estates in the area, but not a house you recognize from the first time you were in Brittany. It's newer than that, but so is almost everything.

The wedding had gone beautifully, and your family adore Pero, characterizing him as 'intense but charming' and they had just about gone crazy when they found out that the beautiful game meats they were eating for dinner had been the result of his bachelor hunting party. Your mother had practically batted her eyelashes at how masculine it was for him to provide for you like that.

Today is your second day in Brittany - with yesterday being spent either in bed or at a meal - and you had chosen to leave the rental car at the hotel and go for a walk through the narrow streets of town. Being married all over again feels like more of a relief than anything else. Like you're finally back to where you're meant to be.

“It is different.” Pero admits, looking around and huffing. Luckily some key pieces have been constant. The old town Well was preserved and from that, Pero can tell where your cottage was. “This was where I met Briac.” He motions towards a newer shopping center that had replaced the old buildings.

“There is still a bakery in the same place.” Pointing to a different part of what used to be the village center, there is a little boulangerie now standing where the baker’s shop once stood. “I doubt they still have his ovens, but it’s nice that it is accidentally consistent.”

“Yes.” The hands that are not pointing out pieces of your old life are firmly entwined, fingers laced together and you look like two soulmates should in this time. Two tourists, although you have more history in this village than the people here, or at least ancient history. Pero had been nervous about meeting your family and the wedding, but it had been nothing like the immigration interviews. Since he was a soulmate, he was guaranteed a ‘green card’, approval to stay with you, but Pero had taken offense to the man’s attitude and it had nearly made the entire process more difficult. “I wonder if the people now ever think of what came before. Without going to their museums.” He grunts as he remembers the stone church being much smaller than the one that is in its place.

“Oh shit.” You practically snort, giggling at him with wide eyes. “I never even considered that some of our things could be in a museum. What if the people who built where the cottage used to be had found bottles or tools or something?” Or even your cauldron, which would have given you a good giggle.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. He would not be happy about that if he were honest. “Why don’t we go see what is there?” He asks, smirking at you. “Visit your cottage?”

“Our cottage.” It doesn’t matter that you lived there without him for years - it was the first home you shared together and you will always think of it that way.

“You are a generous woman, Sassenach.” His tone is gruff, thick with emotion. A woman independent of a man was rare in his time and you willingly giving him what was rightfully yours even more so. It humbles him more than you ever could know.

The walk from the old village center is still a long hill, but the winding streets of this modern town are lined with shops and restaurants and homes. Businesses and offices have taken up where trees used to be, and the vast fields that lined your walk are filled with schools and more houses of worship. It is very different, and yet not so very hard to imagine what was once here, as you walk the once-worn road that led out of your small village.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, watching the changing landscape and imagining it as it once was. If he had not walked this land one thousand years prior, he would never have known it was the same place.

"Like I ought to be pulling my cart." You admit, holding tight to his hand. The uneven, cobblestone streets give you a little trouble with your lack of depth perception, but he makes sure that you never stumble. "I half expect to see Binx waiting for me at the bottom of the hill."

“She was a good gato.” Pero murmurs, feeling the same way. The opinionated cat had annoyed him at the start, but her loyalty to you and then Arwena had been admirable. “She was a clever thing.”

"She loved you." Both of your cats have adored him, which makes you happier than you can say. Bowie yowled his displeasure when you left for the airport yesterday, refusing to let go of him until Beth had arrived to see you off and check in with her furry charge. The truce between your cat and best friend has held, and she's promised to look after Bowie while you and Pero are on your honeymoon.

“Because I love you.” Pero points out. He had no question that if he had dishonorable intentions, your cat would have attacked him ferociously. “If I was a bastard, she might have tripped me off that roof.” He chuckles quietly, remembering how the cat had watched him patch the roof with the most judgmental expression he has ever seen on a feline.

"Does that mean you already loved me when you decided to fix my roof?" It's just a tease, the way you smirk at him, but the notion of it does make your heart swell a little in your chest.

He huffs at you, rolling his eyes and squeezing your hand. You both know that it wasn’t exactly true, but he had been unsettled by you from the beginning. Who knows? It might have been love. “I didn’t want to freeze.” He grumbles playfully.

"Nah." You grin, swinging his hand in yours playfully as you walk together. "You loved me. You're just a sweet, soft man. But don't worry, I won't tell."

Pero growls but it’s not in annoyance. Maybe a little annoyance that he’s so soft for you. It is such a change from the man he had been before you, but his other option is not to have you and he doesn’t want to ever think of that again.

“Grumpy and blushing.” Your grin turns into a giggle as you lean into his side in the walk. “That’s my man.”

“Bruja.” Pero mutters under his breath, no heat to his words. There are times when he wishes the magic was as strong now as it was back then, he would make you fly up in the air to hear you shriek.

“I miss it,” you admit, turning right with him at the bottom of the hill just like you were headed back to that little stone cottage with your garden and small barn. In this time your potions are only mildly effective and the powerful light or flame you once conjured is barely better than candlelight. “And I wish I could have seen what Wena taught you.”

“You wish to see me curse and throw things in frustration?” Pero had always been careful not to do it in front of the girl, knowing the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her father, but sometimes he had just needed to vent his underlying worry that he would not be able to learn.

“I wish that it could have been something we shared.” Ultimately, you missed out on a year of his life that you should not have had to miss - although if you hadn’t this walk would be very different. You might never have come back to Brittany for the rest of your lives if you had not had to come home.

“Perhaps we should try our magic together.” Pero murmurs softly, aware of how crazy it sounds but he is a man from a thousand years ago, walking on these grounds again because of magic. Surely together it would be stronger.

"Perhaps we should." Linking your fingers through his as you walk, you look up at him with a curious twist of your lips. "What would we try?"

“I— hmmmm.” That is an interesting question. “We will have to think of something, amor. First, let us find our cottage.”

The curve of the lane follows the curve of the old road that you remember so well, but the sight in far different than it once was. Private homes line what used to be the woods in the distance, but there is an enormous tree standing in what looks like a small garden just across the street from where you and Pero now stand. "Hazelnuts," you hum, seeing the clusters of nuts in the branches. "The baker and his wife would trade anything for fresh hazelnuts..."

“I remember you digging for them.” He thinks back to those trips to the woods while you were gathering the last of the herbs before they wilted under the snow and the hazelnuts were always wanted. “The bread was always tasty and fresh.”

"I know it's easier to buy them from the grocery store, but I do miss foraging sometimes." Crossing the street with him, your hand is still in his as you approach the enormous, gnarled tree. "Maybe when we finally buy a house, I'll start another garden."

Pero counts the paces and looks around back up the hill. “This is it.” He murmurs to himself, then squeezes your hand. “This is it, amor. Where our cottage stood.”

"Are you sure?" To be honest you feel a little turned around with how different everything looks, and you're not sure you could pinpoint the land you used to live on if your life depended on it.

“Yes.” He let’s go of your hand to stride forward. “The door was here.” He opens his arms wide to indicate the door. “This must- this is Tree I planted when I was here last.” He murmurs, looking up at the great, towering tree in wonder. It’s a true test of how much time has passed.

"You planted a tree the night we left?" He had never mentioned it, obviously, and you had spent so much time inside with Arwena as you packed up your necessities in the cottage that you wouldn't have ever seen him do it.

“No.” Pero turns back to you with a slightly guilty expression. “I came back on my way to the Stones.” He admits, reaching up and rubbing his neck as he examines the ground. “So if the tree is this large…it should be right around here.”

"What should be?" He is examining the ground carefully and you tilt your head at him in confusion. There is no anger or hurt feelings, just curiosity in your tone. "Amor, you never told me you came back to our home on your way north."

“I know.” Pero nods as he slips the bag he had brought off his back. “I did not know if we would return. Or if I could make it through the Stones.” He admits, kneeling down and unzipping the bag. He had requested these items from the hotel and to his surprise, they had provided them.

“What are you up to?” His mischievous streak has been fostered lately, mostly by Will and their friends, and just two days ago it had resulted in a beautiful wedding present of the necklace you’re currently wearing, but something tells you that this secret of his has nothing to do with jewelry.

“I did not wish to get your hopes up, amor.” He admits as he pulls a compact shovel and a pair of gloves from the bag. “But there is something I am hoping to find here.” The eagerness in his voice spells of it being a good discovery and he looks up at you and sends you a roguish wink.

“Can I help?” You’re immediately beside him with your knees in the dirt, assuming he has buried something when you see the shovel and gloves. “It doesn’t look like anybody owns this land, so hopefully no one will care if we dig.”

“I do not care if they care.” Pero huffs. “This land was ours and what is down here is ours.” He had buried it with the purpose of hopefully coming back to get it, in his time or in yours. With William’s help, there had been a lot of research that you were unaware of before the wedding. “If you wish to help, take the other gloves that I have in the bag.”

It takes time. Even with two of you, a thousand years of erosion and soil movement means that whatever is down here is not in the exact same place he left it - but in time it becomes clear that the roots of the tree he planted have protected his secret. One long, curled root has found its way around a small wooden chest which has been remarkably preserved. As if by magic, you think with a wry smile.

“She said it would work.” Pero huffs as he smirks, his shovel used as as axe to start chopping away at the root to pry the box from its resting place. “It is still here, amor.” He grunts, exhausted but exhilarated by the prospect.

“H—how?” You assume that ‘she’ is Arwena, but you’re too gobsmacked as he pulls the chest out of the ground to ask an intelligent question. “What did you bury?”

Pero brushes the carved lid off and carefully hands it to you. “Open it and see, amor.” He offers, wanting you to see what he had tried to do in order to plan for your future. “I had hoped it would be found by us, and now it has.”

It's remarkable, and the way the chest has survived the centuries almost unscathed. Whatever spell of protection he had placed on it, his magic was clearly much stronger then, than he had ever let on. The hinges creak when you pull at the rusted lock, but the butt of Pero's shovel soon sees it opened. Nestled in a clunky bed of fabric and leather is one of the few rare clear glass jars that you had had - the one that you had treasured for its clarity and stuffed full of beautiful dried rosebuds so you could still see the beautiful colors when it sat on the shelf. "Oooh..." You could cry just from the intimately familiar sight. "Amor, you..." You look up at him with your jaw fallen open. "You saved some of my things?"

“I did.” He nods and stares down at the box with the reminiscent fondness of someone opening a time capsule. “When I left Wena and Briac, I came back here. I needed to see it one last time and make sure that I left something of you- and myself behind if the Stones were going to reunite us.”

"Thank you." The kiss you give him is far more than well earned, but you don't let the moment run away with you just yet. There is a layer of fabric keeping the jar safe, but underneath is a large, thick, leather hide pouch that is unmistakably heavy when you pick it up. "Pero?" His name is a gasp from your lips as you untie the pouch to see a mass of coins gleaming and winking back at you from its depths. "H--how?"

"I earned coin as I made my way here." Pero murmurs. "Everything of value in the cottage was sold so I could bury this here." He wanted to bring it, but he also was not sure where he would end up or if he could go through. Burying it was safer in his mind. "I wanted to make sure you were taken care of in whatever time we ended up in."

“You promised your mamá you would provide for your soulmate…” It is not possible for you to be more in awe of him right now, and you wish you had some better way of expressing it than the shocked expression on your face. “Amor, do you have any idea what these are worth now?”

“William said that if we could find them, you would never have to work again if you did not wish to.” Pero hadn’t understood the amounts the other man had been talking but it was easily more than Pero had hoped to see in his lifetime.

“If we can find someone to buy these? Neither of us will ever have to work.” There are easily twenty gold coins, another dozen silver, and a large handful of copper pennies in the heavy bag, and you shake your head in disbelief. “We could travel all over the world if we wanted to. Never work again.”

“William already assured me he could find buyers if I found them.” Pero smirks at you, watching as you hold the coins as if they are precious. “If you want to quit your job and do something crazy with me.”

“Anything.” He knows you hate your office job, and that you would go or do anything with him that he wanted. Your hobbies are what bring you joy - your hobbies, your friends, and your incredible soulmate.

“I- William. He has found our little home in Valencia.” He explains. “There is- it is for sale.” He had to learn what that meant from Will. Apparently in this time, you had to buy the earth you worked. No rich lord owed all of it and allowed people to live on his lands.

“Oh my god.” Whatever you had expected him to say, that is not it at all. “Is it still a farm? Or is the house in some larger town now?” Moving to Spain is bigger than you had thought he would suggest, but it is not so crazy. And with the money these coins brought, you could hop on a plane and be across the pond to visit Beth and William any time you chose.

“It is still a farm.” Pero had been shocked when he had seen the old house was still standing in the pictures that Will had shown him. It was being used as a barn, but it was the same stones that Wena and Briac had sheltered their family inside. “You never got to see our home, amor.” Pero reaches for your hand. “Would you like to?”

"It will be a sort of adventure all its own, amor. Modern Spain will be very different from where you grew up and neither of us will know exactly what to expect." Still, the tears in your eyes are an obvious answer, especially when you lunge forward to throw your arms around him. "It will be a whole new life for us to start together. And...and I honestly can't wait."

“Or we could stay here.” Pero offers. “Rebuild our cottage.” Everything wouldn’t be exactly the same. He has learned to love indoor plumbing as much as you have. The extra-large tub in your hotel bathroom is a must wherever you live.

"I only care that I'm with you." You promise him, on the verge of having those tears that are building spill over onto your cheeks. "Here or Spain, whichever you dream of. We will sell these coins and build our life like we planned on a thousand years ago." Will you miss seeing Beth and Will every day? Of course. But in a world of video chatting and airplanes, you will have plenty of chances to spend time with your best friends.

“I only want that.” Pero murmurs, looking down at what would give him the fortune he had been chasing all those years ago. The fortune he had never found but had sent him straight into the arms of his soulmate. “All I wish is for the remaining years of my life to be spent with you, Sassenach.”

"How about this?" Hugging him tightly once more, you sit back on your ankles and wipe your eyes. "If your parents' farmhouse is still for sale once we have sold these coins and gotten the money that you saved, then that will be our sign to buy it. If not, we will find out who owns this land and rebuild our cottage beside your hazelnut tree."

“You have a good plan.” Pero holds you close and kisses your forehead. “It would be nice to live there like we planned so many years ago, or rebuilding the first home we had together. Perhaps one day we can do both.”

"I don't think we'll be lacking for funding," you laugh, looking down at the pouch of coins again in disbelief. "I have only one request, amor. If I could?"

“What is it?” You already know that anything you want he will do everything in his power to make sure it happens. “Anything.”

"Whenever we decide to go, can we make sure that there is room for Beth and Will to come visit us?" It almost feels silly asking, but happily starting your life over again with him does not mean that you have to leave everything behind this time. "A guest room in the house. That's all I ask. For our friends, or my family to come and see us."

“Done.” Pero nods immediately. “We will make sure we have room for any and all to come stay.” He doesn’t want to take you away from your family to never see them again. His parents always wanted a large family on the land they lived on and worked.

"I can't believe this." Truly, in your wildest dreams, you never could have thought that anything could have survived the centuries. Let alone a chest of coins, a precious memory of your past, or his family home. That you could possibly have all three is too much to even wrap your head around right now. "Your magic must have been much stronger than you led me to believe, for this to have remained safe all these years."

“As long as it brought me back to you, I did not care how strong it was.” Pero admits, shrugging casually. “But I could raise Cabello into the air.”

"I bet he hated that." You laugh, nearly doubled over at the thought of his enormous warhorse floating above the ground.

“He did.” Pero chuckles, knowing the horse had been well taken care of in his retirement from war. The farrier had been impressed with him and had a gentle touch.

"Let's bring this back to the hotel." The chest is precious and very heavy, but it will fit in his backpack to be stored in your hotel room while you explore the area and enjoy your honeymoon. "If your magic preserved those rosebuds well enough, they will be the first thing I plant in our new garden. Heirloom roses straight from the eleventh century."

“I am having a thought, Sassenach.” Pero hums as he slides the chest into the bag and starts to cover the hole back up. It would do no good to have anyone discover that something had been dug up. “The original house. I would like to restore it as it had been in my time. As a means of showing what it was truly like.” There had been some little tour of what a house would have looked like two hundred years ago, something you had shown him. It had sparked the interest again, reminding him of the conversation you had in his time before plans had changed.

"You miss Valencia, don't you?" It's easy to see, especially in his enthusiasm, and you reach to rub your thumb over the peak of his shoulder. "We should reach out to the people who are selling your family farm. Speak to them about our interest and that your ancestors were the ones who built it. See if they will be willing to wait for us to bring the money together. Then we can restore anything you like." But you shoot him a knowing grin. "Restored, but with indoor plumbing."

“The house we live in should be modeled after it. But larger. All your modern stuffs in it.” He is happy you are so accepting of his idea. It might help him feel more settled here.

"A modern kitchen for me to cook in and a large bathtub for you to relax in." Standing again, you both dust off your knees and take hands again. "It will be the home we intended, when we spoke to Wena and Briac about wanting to stay."

“I only relax in a bath when you join me.” Pero grumbles at you, having complained that the bathtub in the apartment it too small to fit you comfortably. There had been a lot of shower sex though, he did like that.

"You will need a hobby for you, amor. Rich men have hobbies because they don't have to work." Both of you know very well that whatever bathtub you install in your new home will have to be big enough for two, but you do still like teasing him. "Sex with your wife does not count as a hobby."

“It should.” He huffs as he pats the earth down and stands up to lift the heavy bag onto his back. “I will show other rich men how to live simply. It will be popular among the lords of this time.”

"A garden, some travel, and our cat." You chuckle, thinking how much Bowie will enjoy being a mouser on a small farm. Even just in a house with a garden. "We would have space enough for two cats if we wanted to give Bowie a friend. Or even for you to have a horse again, if you wanted."

He had not thought about that and he immediately perks up at the idea. This is the longest he had ever been without a horse since he had become a mercenary. “Would you want another horse? Go for rides again?”

"I think it could be fun." Backtracking the way you had walked a few hours ago, you and Pero start up the hill to return to the old village center hand in hand. "I think you would ride your horse everywhere and entirely avoid cars if you could."

“It would be better.” He immediately agrees, even though he’s learning to drive, he does not enjoy it. “It’s exercise. That metal monstrosity does nothing but shorten my life.”

"I'll do the driving and you'll do the riding, then." Returning to driving is actually something you've enjoyed, but you know he hates it. It has, however, made you a much more cautious driver to have him in the car with you.

“I don’t know if that makes it better, bruja.” He snorts, smirking over at you when you huff, all offended at his words.

"I'll send you back to Scotland to drive around with Sarah and then you'll be glad to be riding with me again." As much as you adore her, Sarah MacLeod is not the best driver in the world, and you know that being in her car as his first automobile experience probably colored Pero's opinion of driving forever.

His face drops instantly and he looks like he’s going to get sick. “Never again, Sassenach.” He groans. “Not while my feet still work.”

That sends you into a fit of giggles, and you grip his hand as you walk up the hill together. "Alright, maybe I won't make you ride with Sarah again. But at least I'm not the worst driver you know."

The huff that comes out of Pero is very reminiscent of when Cabello would snort and blow before stamping his foot impatiently. “You are meaner in this time, Sassenach.” He grumbles even as his grip on your hand tightens.

"You like to be teased." He always has, that was apparent to you from the beginning. "And you know that I would never do anything to make you unhappy, cariño. It's all in good fun."

He rolls his eyes at you and let’s go of your hand to swat at your ass playfully. “You are a pain in my ass, so I will pain yours.” He jokes.

"Te amo mucho, mi amor." You grin, practically sticking your tongue out at him as you walk together. Everything feels as light as air today, and seemingly nothing could cut through the good mood that has settled between you.

“I will pull you over my knee when we get back to our room.” He huffs, knowing you will enjoy it if he does. “But I won’t let you cum.”

"Now who's mean?" You pout at him dramatically, knowing that he would give in and let you have your pleasure eventually no matter what he says, but enjoying the game.

“Born mean, mi amor.” He flashes you a wicked grin and winks at you when it just makes you pout even harder.

"You say so, but I have seen you misty-eyed at not just one but two of our weddings, and caught you having entire conversations with Binx and Bowie and Caballo." This man's many different faces have always fascinated you, but perhaps that is part of being soulmates. The great privilege of having someone close to you that will never tire or bore you. Someone who will challenge, love, encourage, and support you through the best and the worst of life. Someone to complete you - no matter where or when you are.

Pero grumbles under his breath, flushing slightly at your call out of his supposed tender behavior. It flies in the face of the hard facade he had shown the world for nearly his entire life. “Mean.” He huffs, as if he’s trying to convince you.

“Maybe I am.” You shrug, hand still in his. “Maybe you are. But I think we’re the best version of ourselves now that we’re together.”

"I can agree to that." Pero knows that he doesn't want to be without you again, it was too painful for that year once he had entwined his soul with yours. "Now we don't need to be apart." He chuckles quietly. "We will have our modern house and live everyday like we did in the cottage."

“Te amo, mi corazón.” Lifting His hand to your lips, you leave a kiss in his skin and smile. Te amo mucho.”

"Mi vida es tuya." My life is yours. Pero reminds you simply, knowing you feel the same.

“What else would you like to do today, amor?” There had been more to find at the site of your old cottage than you could possibly have anticipated, but you still have an entire evening ahead of you.

"That is up to you." Pero murmurs softly. "We can explore the village or we can see about getting a meal and going back to the cottage to eat there. Under that tree?"

“We could do both?” With both of you softened a little, you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment at the corner of a street waiting for a group of cars to pass so you can keep walking. “We could walk around until we find something good to eat and then walk back down to the cottage to have our meal.”

Pero hums his agreement, finding it to be a good idea. He also has another plan for tonight back at the site of the cottage you and he had shared so many years ago. Biting his lip, he nods. "Perfecto."

******

Once your things are settled back at the inn, the two of you wander town some more. Modern shops mix with historical sites in this place that is so obviously fond of its heritage, and you share a few good laughs about how you would be the town’s most treasured visitors if they only knew about your past. Eventually you wander into the bakery that stands on the same site as the old baker’s shop, and though they aren’t using his same stone oven, they are baking with the same ancient principles in mind. Tartines, a small loaf of seeded bread, and a few pastries are added to your accumulated picnic of wine and cheese, and you’re ready to head back down to the tree Pero planted by your old cottage.

When the chest had been pulled out of the bag, it had been replaced with the throw blanket the hotel had set out on the couch in the small sitting area. Wanting to use it to put down on the ground when you eat. You had told him that in this time picnics were romantic things, rather than just eating during a rest for the horses. Spreading it under the tree, the blanket sits where your bed would have been in cottage and Pero smirks, sitting down and patting the space beside him. "Sit, amor."

You’re careful with the food, seeing everything down gently, and setting down your own bag in the corner of the blanket to sit down beside him. It’s a beautiful, sunny day and warm, so a picnic is just the thing for your dinner.

“This was your safe fortress for a long time.” Pero murmurs, unable to see any of the Stones that had made up the walls of the cottage. Most likely it had been torn down to use for other things. “It was a nice cottage, better with a roof on it.” He teases.

“It’s useless for me to argue that I would have thatched it myself eventually, isn’t it?” You roll your eyes at him to make him laugh and reach for the wine bottle and corkscrew that you bought while you were out. “You kept me warm and safe that winter, amor. And I will always be grateful.”

"It was the most comfortable I had ever been." Pero admits, having taken pride in making sure there was a warm fire in the hearth and meat in your pot. It had felt like the first home he had since leaving his father's.

“And now that honor will go to our farmhouse after it’s built.” There is no need for glasses, the two of you can easily share a bottle of wine without having to be dainty. The box containing your tartines sits open beside the pastry box containing madeleines and macarons, with the baguette and cheese waiting to be devoured just beyond that. A veritable feast.

“The cheese maker’s shop being a what did you call it? A delicatessen? That was ironic.” Pero had groaned happily at the variety of cheeses available now and there are a lot of them in your picnic.

“It was exciting,” you contend, knowing that the cured meats in the cases and windows along with the dozens of varieties of cheese will be calling you back before the week is up. You’ll end up shipping a crate of things home, you can feel it in your bones. “Dig in, love. No reason to wait when it’s just the two of us out here.” A few passersby have been out, some of them with dogs, but no one has bothered you. They apparently know tourists when they see them.

“Remember that first day Briac brought all the supplies to your door? I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head. They were so wide.” Pero chuckles as he pulls out the pocketknife you gave him to start slicing the cheeses.

“I had no idea you would spend so much on supplies!” Laughing with him, you reach for a piece of tartine and hum at the spicy scent of the mustard holding all the toppings on the fresh, crusty bread. “I was used to saving every single coin I could and trading as much as possible. It was like Christmas come early to me.”

“I was not going all winter without cheese and ale.” Pero hands you a slice of cabrales and takes another for himself. “I love cheese.”

“Almost as much as you love me.” You can’t resist teasing him, batting your eyelashes dramatically so he doesn’t pout about having to choose.

“Almost.” He huffs, popping the cheese into his mouth with a grin and then letting out a filthy moan. It’s creamy and slightly funky and he’s already cutting another piece off of the large wedge.

“That good?” As soon as you ask the question you pop the piece he handed into your own mouth and have a nearly identical reaction that sends you both into a fit of laughter. “Holy shit that’s good.”

“It’s that good.” There’s is a leer in his grin as he leans closer, waggling his brows slightly.

“Are you implying that this cheese is as good as fucking me?” You raise your eyebrows at him imperiously, trying not to snort or giggle at the little game. It is very good cheese, after all.

“This cheese is almost as good as fucking you.” Pero shuffles closer, smirking as he breaks off another bite of the cheese and pops it into his mouth. “But I must compare quickly.”

“Amor…” That combination of predatory gaze and a knowing smirk usually only means one thing, and if you weren’t literally out in the open you would be all for it. “We would be seen.”

Pero scoffs, not caring if he were seen making love to his soulmate - his wife. “We are behind the tree.” He argues, cutting his eyes over. “We will not be seen if you just lay against the trunk.”

“If we’re seen we could be arrested.” The argument isn’t exactly stalwart, not when you’re leaning into him and a mere fraction of an inch away from kissing him.

“Who cares?” Pero has been in a stockade more times than he can count, was chained to a wall in China. A modern slap on the wrist means nothing to him. “You do not want me inside you where we use to fuck so many years ago?” He asks, lifting a brow. “You could ride my cock, your dress would cover us from being seen.”

It’s strangely sentimental at the same time that it is breathtakingly arousing, and you bite your lip hard while considering the pros and cons. When the pros - i.e. sex with Pero - inevitably win out, you nod slightly and push in to capture his lips in a kiss. This might actually outdo the time you wrapped your legs around his waist and let the ocean waves help you ride him one night when the beach was empty.

The growl Pero lets out is feral. Twisting his body and dragging you into his lap so that you are blocked by the tree and his back so that none will see you. He doesn’t mind public sex, his cock is hard and he has every intention of sinking into you, but he is protective of you being on display to others.

“Shhhh.” It’s barely a chastisement as you squirm in his lap and bite back a needy gasp. “We have to be quiet, amor.”

“They will think it an animal and stay away.” Pero huffs, pushing his hands up under your skirt to fumble with his jeans. In this instance, he wishes he were wearing his easier to access breeches, although he’s grateful you are wearing a skirt.

It really is a useless endeavor to wear underwear around Pero, but when his fingers slip inside the slick fabric and tug your panties to the side, you tell yourself it’s your honeymoon and you’re not only allowed to be horny – it’s expected. Raising yourself up just a little is all you need for Pero to shift beneath you, and you bite down on your lip hard to keep from moaning as you sink down on his length.

There is magic in the way your body takes him that is it’s own web of power. Sucking the breath from his lungs and clouding his mind with you, pushing everything else aside. He pulses and twitches in the snug warmth of your walls, hands gripping your hips harshly. “Fuck.” He hisses quietly, already breathing heavily.

“Goddamn.” You hiss in agreement, starting out with just making small circles in his lap. There is barely any rise and fall to your hips yet, but partly because of Pero’s iron grip on that part of your body while he twitches eagerly inside you.

“You- mierda, you feel like heaven.” Pero praises, ducking his head and starting to kiss along your neck and across your collarbone. Ever since he thought of returning here he imagined you like this again, right here. The cottage fully reconstructed in his mind as you grind down on him.

“S-such a bad — fuck — fucking influence.” Careful to keep your lips tight by his ear, just only need to whisper the words for him to hear them. Your hips swivel and rock, taking him as deep as you can and giving you a surge of pleasure every time your walls pulse around him.

He knows his fingers dig into your skin through the fabric, you will have tender spots on your skin that will be loving reminders. The first time he had done that, he had been upset to hurt you, but you like it and Pero groans in agreement. “You and your -your cunt are all that matter right- right now.” He chokes out, trying to roll his hips up.

Kissing him is going to be the only way to keep yourself quiet, and you cling to him in the shadow of the enormous hazelnut tree. The whole rest of the world has dissolved from your mind and it’s only you and Pero - just two soulmates moving together in secluded pleasure. Nothing else exists.

Pero grunts into your mouth, absorbing your whines with pleasure. His hips push up and he tenses when you tighten around him. Loving how uninhibited you are right now, even though the two of you are completely covered.

It’s all about small, subtle movements right now. There is nothing in the world that could stop you at this point, as you rock closer and closer to the point of no return. Your legs tense on either side of him, gripping his thighs with your knees and holding on as tight as you possibly can even as your fingers dig into his shoulders while you try desperately not to cry out.

“Good girl.” He growls into your ear, hand splayed wide across your back and holding you close. “Mi esposa es tan buena para mí.” My wife is so good to me.

“Mi esposo es increible.” My husband is incredible. The shuddering tension in the depth of your belly is as familiar as breathing with Pero is your life, and you chase it with your cunt bearing down in his cock as tightly as a glove.

He can feel that you are close, starting to quicken his pace under you. “Cum for me.” Growling quietly, he presses his lips to yours to muffle the cry he knows is coming.

You hardly need the extra encouragement, but you whimper in agreement and nods eagerly as you pick up the pace just that much more. Discreet as you’re trying to be, you’re certain that anyone who saw you would recognize your movements - but frankly you’re so close to your peak that you don’t even care. Tighter and tighter, the coil in your belly snaps with one particularly well-placed thrust from Pero, sending you over the edge as your forehead drops to his shoulder so you can bite your lip and grip his shoulders as solidly as you need to keep quiet while you come apart on top of him.

His pleasure rumbles through him, like an avalanche as it sweeps over his body. Only allowing him to give into the need once your body bows and arches in pleasure. Curling around his spine and making him shudder, Pero pumps himself deep with a low groan of your name.

Gasping for breath includes a giggle, and you raise your head to press a kiss to Pero’s lips as your body against his. “Te amo, mi corazón. Eres el sol in mi cielo.” I love you, my heart. You are the sun in my sky.

He smirks, reaching up and cupping your cheeks. “Eres la bruja que me ha robado el corazón.” You are the witch who has stolen my heart. Pero teases and kisses the tip of your nose. “And I do not wish to have it back.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger

SatS: @canadianmaebe @badassbaker @od-ends @amneris21 @padbrookcottage @chaoticfestninja @xdaddysprincessxx @mostclevermiss @im-sylien @wherethewildfanlives @ficsbynight @djarinsimp @ellenmunn @jediknight122 @under-the-seas @wellaintthatsumthin @sarahbellesaurus @roxypeanut @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @bruxasolta @kaylay2187 @freshlemontea @humanransome-note @virtualanchortimetravel @leoisme @do-not-go-gently-42 @catsandgeekyandnerd @happypalaceroadpie @ghoulpatroul @lizzystorm48 @imoutoid @rainbeaubrightchild @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @dudelorian @thirddeadlysin @piratesangel @jazzieomega @iceclaw101 @strangegirl32 @lights-on-the-ridge @godofbadass8909 @pann-malii @littleone65 @notyouraveragemochii @shawdowolf993 @rebel-fanfare @rav3n-pascal22 @love93sstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @aurelac-heart @we-could-have-been @bilibiche @prettydull180 @dinoflower @my-life-as-a-bird @tuquoquebrute @damnitjaskier @fishingforpike @sherlock221b114679797 @sainteredhood @nekodemon73 @missredherring @middlemichi @moonflower91 @rachelle-on-the-run @miscellaneousfangirling @danamercury @hyacinthsatdawn @i-am-amora-the-enchantress @milkandoil @generalplaidhorseherring @raptorclaw24 @mrsparknuts

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pero Tovar #Pero Tovar x reader #Pero Tovar x you #Pero Tovar x female reader #The Great Wall #soulmate au #time travel au #disabled reader

[leofiat-bunny]

Random notes from rewatching

Creating a cut means rewatching some scenes a lot (I suffer for my "art" 😇). So this is kind-of-sort-of liveblogs for the series, but not really?

Vaguely in order

2023 - the year we all forgot (or pretended to) 😅

(well, the "forgetting" starts in 2019 but the show's released in 2023 so 🤫)

Cayenne Auto Shop

10/10 naming, no notes ♥

I adore sleepy classmate with puppy plushie

Ai Di's never looked so fragile as after that kiss 😭

Costumes

Xiao Jie: poor packhorse 😂. Sorry, but Ai Di is too pretty a princess to help out 👑 (I've decided Xiao Jie is aroace. Because someone always has to be)

I want to see the other costumes he got. I think we deserve a fashion show epilogue. Petition anyone? 📝

And he chose Red Riding Hood a few months(?) after Zhang Teng mocks him with the name 👑😎💅

"It's rare for me to dress up so cutely"

I can't emphasise enough how I adore that the feral kitten has 0 issues being cute when that tends to be the purview of the ostensibly tamed

"You are not like him"

I don't think Chen Yi would appreciate us calling Ai Di a feral murder kitten/feral murder bunny (feral murder fluffball?) 😅

"Bai Zonygi, let him go"

Anybody else not keen on the script and direction in this scene? The actors are doing great but what's happening doesn't make sense?

Why does Bai Zongyi need to let go right now? You haven't tried to address FJR's injuries from the other side, and I doubt you're worring about spinal injuries being exaccerbated here.

If you just want to pick him up, there's MORE room on the other side of A'Ruei and that would be easier…

Maybe I'm missing something but this doesn't seem sensible, it just kind of leaves me confused rather than emotional

Keeping Bai Zongyi in the shop

The sympathetic pain my babies must be feeling for Bai Zongyi - knowing your soulmate is hurt and you're being KEPT FROM HIS SIDE on top of their own pain for their friend. My babies 😭

(And poor Bai Zongyi I guess 😝)

Interesting that Ai Di explains to Chen Yi

Obviously it's exposition for the viewers but Chen Yi's reaction is decidely "this is news to me" not "Ai Di is muttering complaints at me"

I can well believe that in general Chen Yi is the paper person and Ai Di is the people person.

That's why they agreed that the bar would be Ai Di's to manage.

Ai Di is eye catching, wild, loud, and brings the party and is unashamedly himself. Chen Yi is dependable, restrained, organised.

Petty was on the money that Ai Di colours Chen Yi's world, and Chen Yi supports Ai Di (matches his colours).

The extra : Leave before Chen Yi comes

When I first saw this on my dash I was - predictably enough - focused on the implications of possessive Chen Yi seeing Zhang Teng with Ai Di backed against a wall.

Now I've watched the full scene!!!

From the moment FJR shows up, Ai Di doesn't provoke at all.

He doesn't back down of course, but on rewatching I saw: he's not saying or doing anything that could escalate things.

His next words are when Zhang Teng is lingering "What are you looking at? Get out." and almost before he does:

"Where's Chen Yi? I sent someone to call Chen Yi. Why did you come?"

Because if Chen Yi heard that the guy who had killed one of his people was now selling at his bar and Ai Di was confronting him...

He'd be there.

Except he's been told and he's not there.

Something happened to him.

(Except no, FJR was arrogant enough to just not tell him, so that suppressed panic attack was for nothing.)

AND I WASN'T EXPECTING THAT MANY FEELS IN THIS SCENE DAMMIT! 😭

Not ep focused

My loyal feral murder kitten

A'Ruei told you to run quickly, and you really ran

If my words can kill him, I will die with him, okay?

Why do you want him to take the fall? We should let our people take the fall. It has nothing to do with him

Imagine a newbie trying to manhandle Ai Di the way Chen Yi does

Post prison someone who joined after Ai Di left tries to pull Ai Di off someone he's beating up… ends up on the floor suffering until Chen Yi arrives (called to the scene by one of the others) and has to watch as Chen Yi does what he did to the complete opposite reaction (yeah, he's complaining but he's not doing anything about it)

Has to have it explained to it that Chen Yi is the Keeper of the feral murder fluffball.

Everyone else is to respect the wild beast for their own good

#kiseki: dear to me

[eclairfair98]

I just wanted to say I’ve kept up with your fic rather religiously and it’s one of my absolute favorites to the point where I refused to read the final chapter until I re-read the whole thing. What a beautiful story you created. You have a gift.

Hii, marisatomay, I’d like to start off by apologising for how long it took me to get around to answering your ask 🙈❤️ (was trying to figure out what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it, sorry X’D), and thanking you for all your love and support!! 👐🏼🌻 This fic’s the first thing I’ve written written since my 12th grade grammar exam (I think I wrote a 500-word picture-composition on a black-and-white photo of two kids playing in the rain, if I’m not mistaken 😂), and many drafts later, it’s still riddled with little-big mistakes (am planning on doing a final round of edits to flesh out/improve some of the things I wanna work on in the earlier chapters, before I bid farewell to these characters for good 🤞🏼). Which is why, I’m so grateful and pleased that you’d consider my work to be one of your favourites :’) Really, you’re too kind, thank you so much!! ❤️🫂

Now, I must confess, that I do have some residual guilt with regards to the story 🙈 I wrote omegaverse ‘cause I wanted to explore the socio-cultural implications of this made-up biology (a teeny-tiny difference in a chromosome somewhere in an individual’s genotype, that results in a difference in their phenotype), that ends up determining a person’s place in society (a reflection of our world, only much darker, with explicitly discriminative policies/laws still in place in the 21st century)? I set out to tell a story about two people who grow up wanting more or less the same things (to serve their country, and honour their fathers’ legacies — whatever that means to them, individually), who were then offered vastly different opportunities by their world. And while Tom and Pete started their journey with us on a very unequal footing, I’d promised myself that they’d end it, as equals. I worked to that end with the constitutional amendment, and universal suffrage, and the honest conversation they had about the state of their marriage. But somewhere along the way, I realised that their past really does cast long shadows, that I can’t resolve all of their issues, tie everything up in a neat little bow at the end. And it occurred to me, that I had to be okay with that.

There’s a book called Sapiens, in which the author talks about how (I’m paraphrasing here) everything that isn’t a scientifically-proven fact, is a myth. How the sharing of collective myths (capitalism, money, nation, God), has helped shape the foundations of human civilisation. And that’s something something that really stuck with me, ‘cause if that’s true, then maybe we owe it to ourselves, to the world, to tell the right stories, to believe in the right myths? I’m not saying that every story should have a moral or a message (‘cause that’s just not true; people write to have fun, and what can be more justified than making yourself feel good with a creative outlet that also gives other people joy?) I guess, I’m just saying that I would’ve liked to tell a story with a better, more definitive message? My Tom and Pete are far from perfect people, and their relationship is flawed, as well (in some ways, all of their problems are present from the very beginning). The optimism they have for their future, doesn’t match up to their reality. Fate leads them down different roads, and although their intentions are pure, they do end up hurting the people they love. They’re not soulmates. They’re not ‘made for each other’. There’s a chance that they’d have had happier ‘easier’ lives with different partners. That they wouldn’t have made the same choices had their circumstances been different. But, they’re both inherently good people who keep trying to work on their relationship, to find common ground. To choose love and hope. To be better for each other. And I guess, therein lies their (and my own) saving grace… :’) ❤️

#thank you so much for your ask ❤️ #oh and thank you for taking the time out to re-read my work!! #always so pleased to know that people are willing to do that 🫂 #hope you have a nice day (or night depending on your timezone) X’D ✨ #on writing #omegaverse #icemav #The Unbearable Lightness of Being #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #asks #marisatomay

[blacktinnedpeaches]

ok im gonna just talk about it anyway :D

he announced earlier that next year he's gonna push me more, and i was like ? wat? why? and he was like i think we're both undersocialised atm and i was quite annoyed by this and also a bit hurt bc i feel like that's more untrue in the past 6 months thn it's been sice the pandemic (and maybe before - bc most of our friends now are people from discord we ended up becoming irl friends with)

maybe *you* feel undersocialised ben but *i* actually find basically all social activities something to endure rather than enjoy

also don't forget that ana is my soulmate and I feel very happy just hanging out with them and Ben

i feel like he has still this shark feeling of gotta keep moving or ill die :) like he is doing much better than he was from sept-nov but yeah i think he doesnt need to make that an Us problem lol like i dont share that feeling at all lol like if you want to do more things than i do you can do some stuff separately, and some stuff with me! as is normal!

i did feel quite frustratedand annoyed with the way he brought it up , which he did apologise for later bc he agreed we're doing the right things etc and he didnt really mean he wants to push me MORE just that he doesnt want to BACKSLIDE. which is fine i guess but it was a bit annoying to hear anyway bc i am not planningon going intoi a big isolationist hole

like the implication that next year some REAL change is gonna happen and totally ignoring the fact that we got married a few months ago (objectively the biggest social event either of us have ever done), that we hung out with Boops and yuka at an art installation, that we've had clare over a bunch of times, that we've had boops over, that he's done a few irl dnd sessions w/ lucas clare boops, that we've been ice skating a few times, that we've done escape rooms together, that we've done some family trips, we did that ceramics class, we've done a LOT of pokemon walks - all of this in teh past 2 or 3 months apart from the wedding - im just like god damn how much stuff do i have to do to satisfy you lol like i simply dont find the same kind of drive to Do Things that he has and I have still done all this shit REGARDLESS

i was also annoyed i think by the implication that he's the one who needs to push me when actually half of the above shit was my idea!!! the ice skating was me! the wedding was my idea! the escape rooms were my idea! i was the one who restarted teh pokemon go! i was the one who created the server in the first place, where he found his friends!!!! these are all my friends i let him share!!! i was the one who arranged the halloween party w/ boops and clare literally bc he was so sad i wanted to do something nice for him

i do read him charitably - as i legit think is important to do in all relationships with someone you like and respect on a very basic level lol - and i dont think he meant to suggest that im massively inadequate lmfao (i mean - i know he didnt) and he apologised for coming in too hard about stuff, and i know he's traumatised by covid (who isnt?) and is terrified of going back into that tiny world where it was just us and we didnt see anyone else for 2y. but that's not on the cards anyway so i felt a bit wrongfooted by the whole talk

also i was so cross i went mute and under my blankets until he sort of to put it bluntly fucked me back into communication lmfao !! me hissing "im cross with you" while he was actively fucking me </3 looool (this is 100%% fine by the way, just for the record, i was way less annopyed by the sex than the conversation, the sex cheered me up even and it was the right move)

anyway whatever. i think we're actually on the same page in terms of not wanting a particularly quiet 2024 (we're planning on going to Iceland in the winter and also there will be a chess meetup abroad somewhere) so we move. i was just annoyed by how he framed it but he did apologise anyway and i know he didnt really mean anything!! but it was annoying lol like omg I try sooo hard. so fucking hard!!!

ETA: fucking. also. he wasn't even making ANY comment on this stuff and he's fully been my biggest cheerleader lol but I've also been so busy work-wise (my "chess career" is reaching new heights after all) and taking care of him these past few months and doing my doll job as well I think I just want someone to be like omg cham you are actually soooo impressive I'm soooo obsessed with you !!! don't worry you don't need to find anything else inside you you are doing sooooo well!!! (Ben is actually usually like this but I want him to say it now as well) like I've been working on job stuff AS WELL AS doing loads more shit with him lately and I feel like I should get extra credit for that

all this to say that this would be a good time to send me a message with how great you think i am. lol

#hi darling xxxx

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Eight: Courage

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: canon typical violence

Word count: 5,000>

Masterlist 

Previous - Chapter Eight - Next

You awoke to the phone on the nightstand ringing. Maxwell groaned, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head. You tiredly opened your eyes before taking the phone off the hook and holding it against your ear. “Hello?” you asked, your voice hoarse and your throat sore. It must have been the implications of yours and Maxwell’s actions from the night before. Max moaned and wrapped his large arm around your naked body, pulling you into his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s me,” Diana snapped back quickly. “I’ve been calling your room for the past fifteen minutes. What’s going on?”

“O-oh,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes and pulling out of Maxwell’s grip. You sighed and propped yourself up on some pillows. “I’m sorry Di, I guess we must’ve slept through the phone call. I didn’t hear anything.” you admitted.

“Listen, we only have two days in Greece so if we want to find the dreamstone we have to work fast. Meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes or I’ll go without you. I already have a lead.” Diana instructed and you heard the phone slam back down on the hook with a ring.

You turned to Max who had fallen back asleep, his snores gentle and light as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath. He was so peaceful. When he was asleep, it was one of the few moments where he wasn’t ridden with stress or anxiety. And you wished you had the rest of your life to admire his tender movements.

“Max, wake up, we have to go.” you whispered, shaking him gently.

Maxwell mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, resting his head in your lap. You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up as he shuffled further into your body. You smoothed out his golden hair and traced the features of his face with your index finger. So beautiful. So perfect.

You imagined spending every single one of your future mornings like this, in bed with him, his face buried in your lap and his gentle snores echoing throughout the room. Your naked legs were tangled together and neither of you had ever felt so comfortable in your life.

“Max, baby,” you cooed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss into his forehead.

“Mmm, good morning.” Maxwell grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.

“We slept in,” you sighed, letting your hand trail down his body and lazily circle his tan chest. “Diana is waiting for us downstairs. We have to go.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, almost child-like. “Wanna stay here with you- foreverrrr.” he purred, pressing a tired kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Maxie, please don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” you hummed seriously, although you were trying to hold back a smile. If anything was going to wake Maxwell up, it would be that nickname. He opened his eyes and pulled off you.

“Okay princess, I’m up.” He said, running his hand through his wavy morning hair.

“Princess? I told you I’m not a-” 

“Think of it as a term of endearment, sweetheart.” he said, pressing a kiss into your nose. 

“Oh.” was all you managed to breathe out before his lips caught yours.

***

Just as she had stated, Diana was waiting for you in the hotel lobby, dressed fully in her red,  blue and gold warrior costume. It had garnered quite a bit of attention, but nothing Diana Princess of Themyscira wasn’t used to. 

“You said you had a lead?” you quizzed, quirking your eyebrow and taking a step closer to Diana.

“Yes, Dr. Minerva,” Diana said, immediately glancing at Maxwell who’s eyes had become comically wide. The name clearly meant something to him. It rang like alarm bells in his head. “Or Barbara, as myself and Max know her as.”

You turned to Max, confused as to why Diana was being particularly smug. She’d acted the same when she mentioned Barbara and Max back at the Smithsonian yesterday. “Who is this Dr Minerva?” you asked him, looking at him with the most innocent, doe eyes. Your voice was soft but riddled with curiosity. He wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you everything it’s just… things were difficult. He’d done things with Barbara that he’d be afraid of you knowing; afraid of what you might think or if you will think any less of him. He couldn’t stand the fact you genuinely had no idea. It was a long complicated story. He hoped to tell you it one day - but knowing that you might not have much time left on Earth, was it really worth it?

“Maybe Diana is better off explaining.” Maxwell scrunched up his nose, dismissing your question. It brought back too many memories that Max would prefer to just ignore. Even though ignoring his past trauma was how he got into this mess in the first place. If he’d learned one thing from Diana, it was that he must face the truth no matter how difficult it may be.

“No,” Diana shot back, but her voice wasn’t laced with venom as Maxwell expected. “I think you’re better off answering this one.” Diana smiled a perfect smile. Maybe smug wasn’t the word to describe Diana’s demeanor, but she certainly knew something that you didn’t, and she was being particularly hidden about it.

“Well Max?” you narrowed your eyes. Why was he being so secretive? Who was this woman?

“Uh-,” Maxwell trailed off, avoiding all eye contact. He took in the features of your face, admiring your beauty with all he had and thinking about how he didn’t want to lose you. He loved you. And you deserved to know. If Max could open up to you about his childhood and about his pursuit of the dreamstone, he could tell you about his short-lived relationship with Barbara-Ann Minerva. “Shit, okay. I had been searching for the dreamstone for a long time when one day, a newspaper headline told me that there was a robbery at a jewellery store, and that the Smithsonian had all the stolen treasures. Including the dreamstone. So I went to the Smithsonian and requested to see Dr. Minerva because I did my research and I knew she was the fresh faced gemologist they just hired a week earlier. And she was… beautiful,” Maxwell seemed to get lost in the memory of her vibrant blue eyes and blonde wavy hair. His lips then curled into a frown. “But so ditzy... I saw straight through her vulnerabilities and insecurities in an instant and I used that to exploit her and get the dreamstone. I gained her trust when I told her I’d be donating to the gemology department at the museum, I charmed her at the charity gala and I wooed her in her office and took the stone.”

Maxwell seemed to gloss over the chain of events but it didn’t really matter. He’d explained what he needed to. You felt a pang of jealousy strike your heart at his revelation. You had been made aware from Mrs Stagg, Ted and Julianna, Diana, and even Max, that he’d done bad things and made terrible mistakes, but you couldn’t help but feel an irk over what had happened in Dr Minerva’s office. “Wooed her?” you quoted him, folding your arms over your chest. Maxwell blinked, but then sighed and reached out to hold your hand.

“Really?” Diana sighed. “That’s what you're focused on right now? Dolos lives. The God of Lies lives.” she shook her head in disbelief and you bit your lip, supposing that she was right. You had bigger things on your plate. You were a goddess for heaven’s sake, you couldn’t let the irrational human emotion of envy consume you. But you had noticed the way his face softened when he was reminded of Dr Minerva’s beauty. And you couldn’t help but feel the urge to know what exactly went on in her office, the night of the charity gala. After a brief moment of silence and exchanged glances, Diana opened her mouth again. “I had a contact in D.C., Babajide, who knew all about the dreamstone and the powers of the God of Lies. Myself, Barbara and Steve met with him when we found out Maxwell had become the dreamstone.”

“Hey- how did I not know about Babajide?” Maxwell frowned. He’d been researching the dreamstone for years and he’d never known of such a man. A man who supposedly had all the answers about the stone.

“Irrelevant,” Diana rolled her eyes. “Seriously guys, this is important. You need to pay attention.”

“I am!” You and Maxwell exclaimed together, in an unpredicted unison. Diana quirked an eyebrow and you felt a warmth cross your cheeks. Ancient Olympian tales would describe moments like that as soulmate-ism. 

“Babajide knew so much about Romulus and the exact dreamstone that Max got a hold of so I paid him another visit and found out he had knowledge on Dolos’ dreamstone too. Only…” And Diana let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of her nose. “He told me that Barbara had visited him a day earlier, asking him of the same knowledge. ‘Asking’ is putting it nicely. Apparently Barbara was a menace and threatened Babajide. And Babajide told her everything he told me. It’s more than likely that Barbara is already here, in Greece, seeking the stone for herself.” 

“She sounds dangerous.” you said quietly. Maxwell held his head in his hands.

“I don’t think I can face Barbara again.” He said, shaking his head, fearful.

“Max I don’t think we have a choice. We have to get the dreamstone before she gets it. What do you think she’ll do with the stone once she has it?” you asked Diana.

“I can only imagine the worst,” Diana shook her head in dismay. “Barbara was complicated… she craved power just like Maxwell only… she had nothing to lose. I fear that she’ll wish to become the dreamstone.” As the word’s left Diana’s lips, Maxwell’s heart sank and he ran off, disappearing amongst the lobby crowds. “Do you think he’s okay?”

You stood for a moment, watching as his dirty blonde hair descended behind the grand staircase. No, of course he wasn’t okay, and you were the only one who truly knew how much this business with the dreamstone had affected him and harmed him. He had come so close to losing everything and so learning that Barbara might make the same mistake as he did, hurt him too. No matter what happened between Barbara and Maxwell, he clearly cared about her. “Excuse me.” you told Diana, following Maxwell through the crowds.

You just noticed him heading through an alcove and outside of the resort. He pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stood by the pool, relishing the fresh air and trying to regulate his panicked, erratic breathing. “Max! Max!” you called after him, pushing past the people until finally you were by his side, grabbing his hand. “What happened back there?”

Maxwell said nothing, instead he just looked into the golden horizon. “Max?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” he told you. “You have Diana. What use am I?” 

“We need you Max,” you promised him, placing your hand on his cheek and gently turning his head so he was facing you. “I need you.”

Maxwell smiled softly and felt himself lean into your warm embrace. “I’ve never felt needed… or wanted… until I met you.” he confessed and you felt tears prick your eyes at his admission. You knew that feeling all too well.

“I know, me too. Back home, all the other Amazon’s were fighters and warriors… like Diana. But not me. They made me feel useless… like I had no point. Like I was a mistake. My mother would tell me that Zeus created me for a reason, just like all the other Gods and Goddesses, and that one day I’d serve my true purpose. That’s why I’m here today, with you. I already know that the years of humiliation and feeling like an outcast will be worth the few days that I get to spend with you, Max.”

Max sighed softly. “I never thought a Goddess could feel like an outcast,” he told you and you pursed your lips into a fine line, nodding in affirmation. “I’m sorry.”

“I think we have more in common that meets the eye.” you giggled softly, dropping your hand flat against his chest. Maxwell wrapped both of his big arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“I think so too,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “We better catch up with Diana then,” he told you, taking your hand. “Let’s put an end to this.”

***

You had been walking for miles in the blazing Greek heat. Maxwell had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and his collar was slightly wonky. His hair may have been disheveled and the blonde locks may have been sticking to the pearls of sweat that beaded along his forehead, but you still admired his beauty. He was truly wonderful. He was quiet most of the journey, and he didn’t have the agility or stamina that you and Diana had. Sometimes you’d have to take stops and have water breaks or toilet breaks. You tried to include him in conversation but his discomfort wasn’t lost on you. It was clear enough that his relationship with Diana was complicated, to say the least. Little did you know, the three of you were about to become a whole lot closer. You and Diana laughed and talked for hours, sharing stories about your time together on Themyscira.

“Zeus is my father. Zeus is your father. We’re basically sisters,” you nudged her, and she giggled. Maxwell scrunched up his nose. Sisters?! He ran a hand through his hair and continued to listen in your conversation. “It’s just unfair that you got to be Princess of Themyscira and I was stuck living a sheltered life with my mother.”

“It wasn’t always easy being a princess,” Diana scolded, but in a warm and polite manner. “It was all about duty. But hey- you’re a goddess, you know all about that.”

If Maxwell Lord had a dollar for everytime he thought he was in a fever dream… he might have been able to afford Black Gold Cooperative’s utility bill. He’d always been a realist. He’d never engaged in fantasy movies or novella, but there was something about overhearing a conversation between a Demi-god and a goddess that just didn’t feel real.

He knew it was. He’d seen Diana in action himself. Hell, he’d seen the powers you possessed. Albeit, when Diana mentioned how you possessed double her power, he was shocked to say the least. Diana could barely hold off Barbara in the White House but with you here? For once Maxwell finally felt hopeful. 

As you furthered deeper into unknown plains, a sudden coldness enveloped you all. It was like a dark, enigmatic spirit ghosting between the three of you, and just like everything else that had happened over the past four days, it couldn’t be explained.

“Do you feel that?” Max finally asked, breaking his silence as he folded his arms over his chest. A shiver raced down his spine as Diana increased her pace and approached the forbidden tomb. “Look at this place. She took us to an ancient burial site, it seems. Like ancient Greek ruins.” he told you, scoping out the place.

“I feel that, yes.” you hummed, your mind wandering the origins of the cold air. Diana’s cries alerted both you and Maxwell as your heads both snapped in her direction and watched her push an enormous boulder away from the tomb, revealing an opening.

“Are you as strong as that?” Maxwell asked, his mouth gaped open in shock.

“Stronger.” you winked before taking his hand and dragging him towards Diana.

The cold spirit then enveloped you, Diana and Maxwell, whispering words of admission, encouraging you all to come forward. “Don’t you think it’s a trap?” Maxwell asked once you were deep enough in the cave that you had hit a point of no return. Even if it was a trap, there was no going back now. You were faced with two path-ways.

“The Sword of Athena is this way,” Diana pointed to the right pathway, otherwise known as the pathway she stood before, and then she pointed her other finger to the left pathway, “and Dolos’ dreamstone is that way. I say we split up and rendezvous here. Maxwell, come with me.”

“Wait what?” Max asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” you told Diana firmly. “He is coming with me.” “You really think it’s wise to let Max Lord accompany you to get the dreamstone?” Diana quizzed quietly, stepping closer to you and breaking any distance. Her dark eyes flicked between you and Maxwell. “After everything he’s done.”

Diana’s hiss was quiet, but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Maxwell. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything. He was a changed man - but the realization that he’d have to prove to the people he hurt that he was changed, suddenly overwhelmed him. He’d have to prove himself to Diana, and even prove himself to Barbara before he could put all this behind him. There were still steps Max Lord had to take in order to gain full closure of his trauma.

“I trust him.” you said through gritted teeth. Maxwell felt a wave of relief. You were so pure of heart. So angelic. You took his hand, nodded goodbye to Diana, and guided him through the left path-way.

“How much further?” he asked. You had been walking hand in hand for around five or ten minutes, only your lasso of Hestia illuminating the cave. Before you could reply, you felt the walls and ceiling of the cave begin to vibrate and crumble. “What’s that?!” Maxwell asked again, this time panicked and looking around erratically.

“We might not have much time.” You said, feeling your own heart rate increase speed as anxiety settled in you.

Something wasn’t right, that much was clear. You tightened your grip on the businessman’s hand and began to run, pulling him with you. Within seconds, you had reached your destination. Maxwell was heaving and panting but he straightened up and fought for composure when he noticed a dim, amber light illuminate your skin. It wasn’t your lasso of Hestia… not this time. He slowly looked up and followed your gaze, gasping when his eyes set on the dreamstone.

You had completely frozen up, struck by awe as you took in the beauty of the citrine stone which stood erect on top of a Greek pillar. “Wow.” you mumbled, swallowing the hard lump in your throat.

The stone was practically identical to the one Maxwell had utilized just a week ago, and just seeing it again, in its full glory, sent electric bolts of dread through his body. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t do this. Not again. Being in the same proximity as the stupid stone that had ruined everything sent Maxwell into his fight or flight. “I can’t- I can’t do this.” Maxwell shakily declared, his coffee coloured eyes glazed with panic.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, taking both of his hands and coaching his breathing. “Let me get the stone and we can head on out of here.”

Maxwell closed his eyes and nodded. If you could trust him, he could certainly trust you. You brushed a chaste kiss against his lips and pulled away from him. It only took a few steps on your approach to the stone before the walls began to crumble again, even more so than previously, and the ground beneath you began to split.

“Shit!” Maxwell cried as he stared at the crack in the floor between you both. It was deep and only getting deeper. If you didn’t run now, you might have gotten separated. He called your name, terror rampant in his voice. “Hurry!”

As you were about to grab the stone. A voice stopped you. A voice that Maxwell thought he’d never hear again.

“The stone belongs to me.” she said coldly. You huffed and opted to ignore the grave voice, taking the dreamstone from the pillar before spinning around on your heel and turning around.

And when you saw the sight before you, you dropped the dreamstone and let it fall to the rocky ground beneath you. Trepidation consumed you and suddenly, it felt like your whole life was on the line. “Maxwell!” you cried, your hand immediately dropping down to your lasso and curling your fingers around the rope. You scowled angrily, your gaze flicking between Max and the woman who was holding him by his neck.

“This- this is Dr. Minerva!” Maxwell choked, tears streaming down his cheeks as Barbara tightened her grip around his throat. Her once blonde hair was white and knotted, and her black kohl eyeliner smudged down her cheeks. Her tights were ripped and a sleeve was missing from her Cheetah print fur jacket. She is not at all how you’d imagined her.

“Let him go!” You begged as anger swelled in the pit of your stomach. “Let him go now!”

Maxwell’s eyes squeezed shut and he let out a groan, his knees wobbling as he struggled to even stand up straight. It was only Barbara’s strong grip of his neck that was keeping him upright. He was hurting. The love of your life was in pain.

“Give me the stone.” Barbara growled.

You picked up the dreamstone and passed it her way. She took it, willingly and let go of Maxwell, throwing him to the ground. The glint in her eye as she analysed the citrine was enough to terrify you. You ran to Maxwell’s side, dropping to your knees and nursing his body.

“Hey! Max, are you okay?” You whispered, smoothing out his hair and running your fingers along his face. He nodded wearily, rubbing the scratches on his neck from where her sharp, cat-like, fingernails had dug into his skin. You helped him to his feet and swung an arm around his body to support him.

“Barbara.” he called, gaining the attention of the doctor.

“No,” you chastised Max. “Don’t. There will be another opportunity to get the stone.” But he wasn’t going to give in that easy, he had to play his cards right. Luckily for you, manipulation was one of Maxwell Lord’s most tactful skills.

“Barbara, did we end things on a bad note? I must admit, I thought we had something special… me and you.” Maxwell said, his voice hoarse. He pulled out of your arms and sluggered towards the gemologist, who had finally looked up from the citrine stone and towards the businessman. For a split second, you saw a glimpse of humanity flicker in her eyes.

“You renounced your wish,” Barbara said, her grip on the stone as tight as ever, but her heart ached as Maxwell approached her. “You were weak. The dreamstone deserves to be with someone like me.” Even her words sound forced and unnatural - like they weren’t really coming from her. Had she not renounced her wish? You wondered what she had even wished for. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maxwell coaxed. He had gotten so close to Barbara, he was able to cup her face and rub the height of her cheekbone with his thumb. It was an action he’d performed on you many times, but even watching this play out, with your own two eyes, you could tell it was different. It was colder and more forced. He had that fake television smile, not the smile you had been blessed to see so many times. “I just hoped things could’ve been different between us.”

“Max, what are you saying?” Barbara asked, goosebumps lacing her arms and you noticed the way her grip on the dreamstone loosened under his touch.

“Everyone has something to lose,” Maxwell whispered. “I could have all the power in the world but it would mean nothing to me if I lost Alistair, my son. Tell me Barbara, does that really make me weak?”

Barbara considered his words for a few moments. “No.”

Maxwell nodded. “What do you have to lose?” Maxwell whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Barbara sniffed, a single tear dripping down her cheek. She was once so warm and compassionate, so friendly. There was one thing. Only one thing she thought about losing.

Just then, the dreamstone slipped from her grip as the lasso of Hestia curled around it and pulled it away from her. But it wasn’t your lasso.

“Diana!” Barbara gasped, her face hardening as she quickly and fiercely wiped her tears away. “That dreamstone belongs to me!”

“I can’t let you do this Barbara!” Diana cried. “This has to end now!” You and Maxwell ran towards Diana and she passed you the dreamstone. “Get out of here!” I’ll hold back Barbara.”

You handed Maxwell the dreamstone and equipped your own lasso, circling it around until it wrapped around a rocky ledge at the end of the cave. “Hold on to me. One hand around me and keep tight a hold of the stone!” you commanded as the walls of the ancient temple began to crumble around you. Just before you set off, you saw the silver gleam of Diana’s sword of Athena as she wielded it before Barbara.

“Shouldn’t I hold on to the lasso?” Maxwell asked, sliding an arm around your waist and holding the stone tight against his chest. 

“Just trust me!” You shouted over the loud rumbling around you. You gripped on to your lasso firmly with both hands before shooting off in the air.

“Whoa!” Maxwell screamed, squeezing his eyes tight shut the second his feet left the ground. “Are we flying?! Are we flying?!”

You giggled as your bodies glided through the air. Max might have been holding on to you for his dear life, but somehow he knew he would be okay. That he’d be safe and you wouldn’t let him get hurt. You rapidly approached the entrance to the cave and used the last of your might to safely land. Maxwell had no time to catch his whereabouts when his feet hit the ground, as you clipped your lasso back to your belt and ran with him to the edge of the ruins.

You hadn’t been in there too long, but by the time you had exited the ancient temple, it was already nightfall. You looked back and there was no sign of Diana. She must have still been in there with Barbara, and you wondered what was going on. 

When Maxwell held the dreamstone, he felt opportunistic. He could make a wish. He had the possibility to make a wish again and have a do-over. He knew where he went wrong last time. He could make it right. He could wish for you to stay… and for you to live a peaceful, happy life with him and Alistair. He could wish to win the custody case. He could wish for so many things. But it was the softness of your touch which interrupted him from his intrusive thoughts. The way your fingers gently grazed across his knuckles and you held his hand.

“We have to destroy it now.” you whispered, looking into the glowing citrine rock. 

“We?” Maxwell questioned. His eyes were dark and wide. “We don’t even know how.”

“Only the truth can destroy the lies. But my mother said I had to believe in love. Love would destroy the stone. Truth and love… truth and love…” you chanted as you tried to piece together the puzzle.

It suddenly hit Maxwell like a ton of bricks. “True love,” he said out loud, his gaze flicking from the dreamstone to you. “True love will destroy the stone.”

It made more than sense, and Maxwell had worked it out on his own. “You’re right…” you whispered. You squeezed Max’s hand and then reached over to the dreamstone. You placed your hand on the stone, and the tips of your fingers touched the tips of Maxwell. As you both held the stone together, the magic began to work and the stone  grew hot and tingled your skin. Very soon, Dolos’ dreamstone - the final dreamstone - fizzled away into a pile of glittering dust and blew away in the cool Greek wind.

You and Maxwell both stood there in silence, still holding your hands out, but this time there was no dreamstone. You had done it. The dreamstone had been destroyed. The God of Lies was dead. It was over. 

“You did it,” Maxwell was the first to break the silence. “You destroyed the dreamstone.”

You had both been thinking the same thing. The fact you had both placed your hand on the dreamstone and that your combined energy was enough to disintegrate the possessed rock. True love. It was hard to know what to say. Of course you were in love with Maxwell Lord, and knowing that pretty soon you’d have to leave him, made your whole body ache to the core. And Maxwell felt the same about you. He’d never been this happy in his life - but spending his days with you and Alistair felt so special. You were his guardian angel, sent out from Themyscira to aid him and help him. To rescue him. How could he not love you? But still, neither of you said anything. How could you ever tell him that you loved him when you were going to leave him? It would only make things harder when it was time to go. You winced and blinked away unshed tears.

“No,” you whispered, turning to look into Maxwell’s honey coloured eyes. “We did it.”

Taglists - let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

I Believe In Love: @thebloodrobin @greatvaluedazzler @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @biharryjames @thwiso @pedrolorian @julieteagk @starsandmando @kishie8 @supernaturalcat7 @depressedchillipepper @galaxypox @cocastyle @welcometothepedroverse @galactic-rhi @honestlystop @walkerchick007 @winchesterxxi @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @why-cant-i-hold-all-my-husbanda @criminalmind1927 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lola-max-sugar @thesadvampire @wonder-jedi @eternallyvenus @way-too-addicted-to-anime @spacedaddydinn @fandommastermind @persephonequeenofthedead​ @computeringturtle @skullchik89 @ashamed23 @honimello​ @jaa1682-27​ @savannah-elliott​ @drinkingwhileblogging​ @tanyaherondale​ @vonschweetz @sexy-monster-fucker​ @red-panda06​

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader

[tsuumu]

beautiful stranger.

oikawa x reader

a short piece in which oikawa tooru approaches you on a idyllic evening. it’s a little awkward though, since you’re trying to die.

word count: 3.3k

tw: indirect and direct implications of suicide.

your warm hands stay gripped onto the metal rails in front of you, applying enough force to watch your knuckles turn white. you find yourself doing it over and over until your fingers numb from the continued pressure. alone, you’re mulling over mundane affairs. you’d rather not be thinking about them but find this loop all too easy to fall into.

the shadow of the railing casts over a large canal, its water sifting freely, far beneath you. it laps over itself, slithers of fish break the transparent surface as they swim. some of their scales rise to kiss the sunlight in opaque relfections.

thin layers of petals scatter the ground beneath your feet that have slipped from overhead trees and continue to flutter down freely. glowers of dying sunlight seep through the shapes of them as they fall.

in this moment, autumn is alive.

it’s really lovely right now.

you’re here, all caught up in chasing that feeling of peace. safety in an open space. you have to cope with that fact that tranquility never comes easily for you.

there’s nothing that should be leaving you as deeply unsettled as you are. you’ve learnt to largely ignore feeling so overwhelmed, though it stirs and resurfaces times you wish it wouldn’t.

what’s bugging you is that you can’t quite get a grasp on your own life.

for starters, everything lacks coherent meaning. to you, there’s something constantly missing every single day. nothing purchasable, nothing attainable through hard-work and any level of perseverance. truly, it affects you so much so that even just standing here, feet glued to the very spot that is undeniably ‘lovely’, brings you nothing but unimaginable sadness.

earlier, you brushed it away as an off day but you know that’s not true. you’ve been feeling like this all the time.

it is, therefore, not at all abnormal to wonder: can a person have such thing as an off life?

you really don’t like to think about things like this too much. once you begin to muse over deep naysay you find yourself snowballing.

solutions are painfully unobtainable and it’s generally as productive as chasing pavements.

do i really enjoy being alone? or am i obsessed with the sensation loneliness brings?

“you know, if you stare long enough, you might end up wanting to jump in.”

at once, your vision snaps up, taken aback by the additional voice. you hadn’t realised that during your mindless lamenting, another person had quietly joined you by the evening canal-side.

fair skinned, dark eyed, chocolate curls brushed neatly over his features and cowlicks that bob against the light gusts of wind.

a boy offers you a smile, before shifting his feet towards the empty space to your left. you can’t seem to process him, staring at the empty spot he’d been in seconds earlier.

you’re not supposed to be here right now.

“i was totally kidding by the way.” he adds. “that was really dark, sorry.”

you’re silent in return, eyes casting back onto the running stream. the water is shallow and the fall long, so jumping in would certainly prove fatal. you know all of this too well. it’d disturb the fish who are just here to live, though, it’ll only be for a moment. they won’t know any better.

you don’t really know what to say. it’s troubling that he’s here and hearing it out loud disturbs you, like a direct call out. at no point were you prepared for any kind of conversation prior.

the two of you stand there in complete silence. it’s not particularly awkward, you just don’t know why he’s approached you so easily, talking to you like he’s known you well enough to make outlandish jokes.

asking directly for his intentions seems rude, so you’ll put up with it until he leaves.

“do you always come here?” the stranger pipes up once more, though his focus doesn’t leave the water. you breathe in deeply.

“sometimes.”

“oh, i see.”

his palms lay flat and he pushes gently off of the rails, only to fall back onto them with all his weight. he does it again, repeating the process over and over at a steady pace. you stay hunched over, keeping your distance. he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest though, clearly absorbed in his surroundings.

“it’s like a set out of a movie, this place. seems like somewhere i’d ask my girlfriend to marry me.”

your tongue rolls around in your mouth.

yes. you think. his girlfriend would most likely be thrilled-over the top-squealing if he did. that’s entirely his business.

you really don’t care to hear of other people’s romantic endeavours.

is it out of jealousy? you don’t know. maybe.

this conversation is meaningless. you wish he’d go away sooner so you could have this time to yourself.

also, jealousy is an ugly word. you hate it.

he stops his movement with a exhale of air, tilting his head back to blink up at the warm sky. the last touches daylight mingle with the oncoming darkness, creating a deep tinge of orangey-yellow.

“when’s your birthday?”

‎a petal lands on the bridge of your hand, sticking to your skin.

“do you want my social security number?” you deject.

“what? no!”

“are you sure? really, i’ll give it to you.”

“no!”

“then why are you asking for my personal information?”

‎

he falls silent for a moment, before mumbling out a small: “just wondering.”

a tinge of guilt creeps over you at his apologetic tone. you admit, your answers thus far must make you seem like a completely unapproachable asswipe. you’re not at all. you just aren’t all that sure how to make small talk with strangers when you’re trying to part with the world by dinner time.

it feels like an unexpected guest at your very lonesome party.

“it’s (insert birth month).” you fold.

he purses his lips, face contorting a little.

“i see.”

he doesn’t continue down that path after your response. the both of you return to a mutual silence, staring into the portrait scenery ahead. the stream fills the soundscape pleasantly. fallen leaves have gathered at the base of your shoes, brushing over the tip gently with the turn of the wind. you observe them quietly.

“can i ask you another question?”

he seems a tad more timid now.

he definitely thinks you’re the type to blow up and give him an earful about minding his own business, doesn’t he?

you’d never raise your voice. in general, but also because it’d break the comfort of the scenery the world has so generously given you.

“sure.”

“do you believe in soulmates?”

‎the question is a little random but not impossible to answer by any means.

“no.”

“what?”

“i said not really.”

“you said no.”

“that’s the same thing.”

“...fair enough.”

‎he exhales out, sounding a little disheartened by your curt response. perhaps to him, you were a tough nut to crack; an ambiguity for him to understand. were all people like that? you weren’t playing hard to get, in fact, you’d answered every single enquiry he has had to offer. his efforts are amusing, though.

you raise a brow at him.

“i’m sorry, was that the wrong answer?”

for a moment, he doesn’t reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets, gazing down at the head of his shoe. pivoting his ankle, he draws small circles with the tip of his foot into the ground, into the dead leaves.

“not at all.”

“your expression says otherwise.”

“um, it was just a bit bleak, i guess.”

you let your arms droop way over the railing, fingers wading through the autumn air. you’d never really taken the concepts of soulmates to heart. it was romantic bullshit put out by somebody looking for a fantasy to indulge in. out of seven billion people, there could hardly be a singular person made for you. people aren’t born for other people. if that were the case, it wouldn’t be a rose-tinted fantasy. it would be suffocating. where’s the freedom in love?

“most people always answer like you these days anyway.”

“oh, sorry.”

he looks up at you, tilting his head.

“no, don’t be.”

back to a default mute, left with nothing but the faint chitter of overhead swallows and the odd rumble of cars passing by.

“tooru.” he states, after a while.

“what?”

“tooru. my name is tooru.”

“oh, okay.”

“oikawa tooru.”

‎your fingertips have become flushed. maybe you’d pressed a little too hard on that cold surface earlier. now that all your blood has come rushing back, the tingling sensation feels foreign.

his name slips of the tongue rather easily, don’t you think?

“nice to meet you, oikawa tooru.”

“it is nice, isn’t it?”

for the first time, your gazes meet properly and you offer him a crooked smile.

“i suppose so.”

off the side of the canal, almost right under the bridge, a small cluster of ducks have gathered. adult ducks tend to be considerably larger than its offspring —as is factual with any animal— so it’s easy for you to tell that there’s only one parent there, along with three of its ducklings.

people like to come to the canal to feed the ducks bread, though you’d heard somewhere that it’s actually quite bad for them.

you wonder. do ducks care particularly if one of its ducklings die? will it do something with the body, cry out, hurt?

or is grief exceptionally human?

“i don’t actually have a girlfriend, by the way.”

he sifts out his phone, tapping the screen and sliding it open. you watch him turn it to its side, before leaning over to take a picture of the depths below. you just watch.

“oh, okay.”

he doesn’t elaborate, focused intently on his current task. your attention returns to the shape of the birds, bobbing up and down rhythmically.

there’s only so much you can say about the canal. yeah, it’s beautiful. you don’t have the right vocabulary to describe the way it makes you feel. honestly, it feels abysmal to even try. you’re convinced though, that you’re in love with the way the water moves. you’ve always appriciated it whenever you walk past, told yourself jokingly that you could die there if you had to.

funny, that.

beautiful things tend to hurt in an unbearably amplified manner.

“say, tooru?”

“yeah?”

“if i climbed over the railing right now, would you stop me?”

you’re both fixated on the paddling now. his phone is back in his pocket, elbows propped up. he hums, taking his time to think over your question.

“most likely.”

your fingers meet one another and the tingling spreads to your palms.

“i’m thinking of jumping, actually.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“my joke earlier...”

“yeah.”

his fingers drum rhythmically on the slender poles under the rail top.

“then i’d jump right in with you.”

the corners of his mouth tug slightly at your perplexity, supressing a chortle. he’s not laughing at you, though. it’s more a gesture of understanding. this tooru doesn’t know you at all, yet he gets it. he gets it all too well.

you get that he gets it.

tooru clears his throat. “bad day?”

“that’s an understatement.”

“well, you’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

by now, the ducks have swam away, you can make out the general shape of them, melding into the distant, mute colours of the bankside. the sky look minutes away from being set alight. time has never been your friend, you see.

“i feel crazy for trying.” you’re rather blunt about it.

“fair enough.”

“…is that all?”

“well, do you want me to tell you that you’re not crazy?”

you lull into silence.

“i don’t know.”

with that, you shift to angle yourself so that he’s in your immediate peripheral, the thought of gawking at him seems ridiculous but you want to look at him. you find it hard to do it up front for some reason.

“i’m no suicide expert, but it’d probably be lonely doing something like that by yourself. wouldn’t it be comforting to know someone’s falling with you?”

your fingers run absently across the jagged surface of the rails, the old paint has been chipped away at, after all its years of protecting. in all it’s history, had anyone else hitched themselves over this very rail?

were they asking for the same answers as you?

god. that’s awful. you don’t want to think about that.

you catch each others’ eyes for a second but you resign quickly, focusing as hard as you can on the flecks of black on your thumb.

“that would be selfish of me.”

“not if i’m offering.”

you scramble to look anywhere else, abruptly turning. you’re facing away from the canal, stomach fluttering a little as you fall onto the rail’s length.

in all your time by yourself, you’d never been given an irrefutable reason to ‘be’. it’d always been a live-for-the-day type of experience. if a day is good, you’re utterly blissed out by it, totally in love with life. if it’s bad, you have little reason to go on. nothing particularly interests you enough to dedicate your days persuing it. fame seems tedious, looks are temporary, a six figure career sounds like emotional jail-time, or a slow, schedule-filled trek to death. whichever description sounds more sufferable.

you see, in essence, we all get off at the same bus stop. some journeys are simply shorter than others.

“you’re guilt-tripping me out of it.”

“i’m not!”

you’ve never stopped to ask yourself what it is you want.

death interests you, you suppose. though, you don’t see the reason to wait around and pretend to ignore it until one day it drags you kicking and screaming.

“oikawa tooru, don’t you have better things to be doing than offering to jump off bridges with strangers?”

that coy smile tugs at his lips once more. nothing you say seems to phase him. it’s like he knows you. he’s thinking: yeah, this isn’t anything out of the ordinary for them.

“should i? you look at that water like it’s someone you hate. or love. maybe both. i got curious.”

“curious?”

“yes. and quite frankly, you’ve left me curious. practically starving. you haven’t even told me your name.”

“my name doesn’t matter.”

“boo. that’s not true at all.”

his tongue pokes out, tugging at the corner of his eye. you shake your head, genuinely unable to hide your amusement, turning to him properly this time.

and really, it’s like the canal side and oikawa tooru were made from the same stardust. he blends right into the picture, as effortlessly pretty as the rest of it.

the strands of hair out of place, a little disheveled from the breeze. the scarf buried into his nose, glasses a little misty from the heat of his own breath but when they clear, you see his eyes all too well.

you’d like to tuck those strands into place, they’re bothering you just a little.

“(y/n).”

your brows furrow a little.

really, this could all very well be some sort of fantastical dream. as nice as it all is, it feels painfully unreal. boys don’t look like that on autumn evenings or offer to die with you.

that’s it.

tooru must be a figment of your imagination.

no. wrong. not a dream.

this is a corner of your mind you haven’t ventured into yet, psychologically, some kind of safety net. a sliced off piece of reality you’ve come to hide in because you’ve utterly lost your mind. he is nothing but a part of you that makes you feel at ease as you come to terms with your self-destruction.

god, that bothers you more. you are crazy.

your hand extends, reaches out all on its own.

you just want to know if he’s real.

oikawa tooru glances down for a moment, he’s probably wondering about you, what’s left you in such a state. though, he’s happy to slide his palm against yours, latching onto it. he shakes once, twice. a little more. tightens his hold a bit.

the weight of his fingers as they brush lightly against your palm is fantastical. he’s so warm. you can feel it spread through you from the pads of your fingers.

he’s very real.

tooru has rather pretty hands.

the contact makes you feel kind of delirious, a produce of being utterly touch-starved. just a simple touch. you’re embarrassed to say it but it takes everything inside of you not to start weeping or hold on frantically in case he does disappear, do something bizzare that’ll scare him away forever.

hey, tooru. are you made of honey?

“well, (y/n), i’m offering you my life right now.”

the sun has set foot on the horizon, plunging in ever so slightly. as a child, the thought of night scared you, feeling largely betrayed by the sun’s farewell. now, it’s a unique kind of comfort to see the moon. it’s as lonely as those who lay their eyes upon it.

“i don’t want it.”

his fingers slip downwards against the dips of your palm.

“you don’t?”

“no, i mean... i don’t want death. not right now..”

you don’t even want to think about it anymore. funny, how things like that work. you were so sure of it. today was the day. your dark rendezvous. weren’t you itching for it?

this bastard.

this man you’ve never met. he clasps onto your hand once and suddenly he stops your nauseating rollercoaster of thoughts and leaves you wondering if, actually, you’d like to see the canal-side again tomorrow, or in fifty years.

who are you really, oikawa tooru?

“no?”

“yeah.”

“then what do you want to do?”

“stay right here, i think.”

your fingers curl, maintaining your hold on him. you should be shy or awkward about this whole ordeal but so you’re desperate for that warmth to continue.

you both stand there, facing one another, hands extended. it’s a little robotic looking. you’re pretty stiff but very sure this is what feels right.

to you, existence is based solely on feeling your way through stages of life. that sickeningly sweet innocence of youth. childhood memories that to you, are dwindled husks of gold, valuable in some aspects but almost meaningless in others. to laugh or to cry allows an individual to create a deep-set connection to the environment around them. it is no longer passing scenery but a moment in your life you once lived through.

that’s beautiful, isn’t it?

unfortunately, emotion provides both a living fantasy and the potential for agony. life is not sweet, nor innocent. it is what you make of it.

it is what your mind is forced to make of it.

and as much as one wishes they were as coddled and loved as they were children, life beyond those years is lonely, difficult and more than you were ever capable of.

were you weak? perhaps.

but maybe people aren’t built for life. we’re all weak.

and realistically, if you are unable to clamber over one obstacle after another -established by those before you- you’re doomed to fall behind.

that will hurt. you will hurt unforgivably because self-worth is no longer a beautiful gift of internal discovery and love but another way to be measured and downsized externally. a practice that leads to hatred. a desire to die.

that’s really where it all began for you. a romantic, a poet at heart, living inside your own, kinder world. that is until reality knocked on your door, invited itself in, just to set the entire thing on fire and leave you as vulnerable as the day you were born.

you aren’t allowed to hide. it comes looking for you eventually.

your stance on life hasn’t changed, afterall, you’ve spent nights mourning over how much it can hurt to live. to fall asleep exhausted with yourself, only to wake up and do it all over again. what you do know, however, is that droning, lonely feeling isn’t there right now. that ongoing, battering ruckus inside your head has ceased. tooru, the strange magician, has left you thoughtless and a little dumb.

you like being this stupid. for once, there’s nothing intrusive prodding the inside of your head.

it’s frightfully quiet, actually. you don’t know what you’re feeling right now. how much time has passed since he’d made that awful joke?

his gaze is on your lingering contact, before lightly pulling you closer, twisting his wrist down so you’re holding hands. your gaze moves to the bankside. you feel comforted. maybe it isn’t death, maybe all you want is a hand to hold.

probably not. that is a stupid, sappy thought. you’re still fanatic about ending your life.

you were so close to doing it, without even really understanding what you were doing. the canal scenery is overpowering, numbing, if you will. without oikawa tooru, you may well have kissed those fishs’ fluorescent scales with your own two lips, as cold as ice with some unfortunate early-morning runner discovering you by twilight.

“we can do that.” he hesitates. “if i’m honest, i would have been pretty scared to jump.”

“yet you still offered?”

tooru hums merrily in confirmation.

“why?”

“because you’re cute.”

you can’t believe your own ears.

“what? seriously?”

“yeah. originally, i wanted your number but things took a small turn.”

you burst out in gutteral laughter, free hand back onto the railing for support. for a moment, you look at him, shaking your head in utter amazement.

“you’re a piece of work, tooru, you know?”

“yeah, i know.”

he smiles back at you. the shadows cast by the setting sun only make him all the more enigmatic.

now that you think about it, you can’t figure this guy out at all. it’s like staring at a wordless piece of paper and trying to find something legible.

“how do you know i won’t come back and repeat all of this tomorrow?”

tooru tilts his head ever so slightly, observing you. his eyes flutter down to your lips, speaking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“because you told me your name.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“well, now that i know that, you’re no longer just a beautiful stranger.”

you understood now. he hadn’t just offered you his life, he’d offered you him. by living on, you’d accepted graciously. he knows that if you visit the canal side again, you’ll only remember this moment.

a bad moment that he, in all his glory, turned into a good one. the day you two first met.

oh, clever boy. he saved you.

though you must say, oikawa tooru, you’re very much mistaken.

you are the beautiful stranger.

a tear runs down your cheek, a little warmer than you could’ve expected.

one turns into two, slipping more and more. eventually, you’re standing over the canal, hand in hand with oikawa tooru, sobbing quietly as the water runs peacefully below the both of you.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa fic #i love oikawa

[amyisherenowitsokay]

Zagr for the ship ask 😤😤😤 every single one bitch

I cannot believe you have bombarded me like this. Appalled. Insulted. Astounded.

Please enjoy my entire analysis of my fictional totally canonical ship.

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

1. How did they first meet?

Dib, but also school.

2. What was their first impression of each other?

I think they're both initially incredibly dismissive of one another. Zim thinks the entire fate of the Armada's reputation lying on his shoulders, and Gaz really has too many personal problems even as a kid to deal with; neglectful Dad, overprotective, stupid brother, etc.

3. Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Okay so hear me out; I think Skoodge and Professor Membrane would be so obnoxious in the best way. And Gir, whenever his attention span lets him remember long enough to scream about it. But I think Membrane would be chipper about Gaz finding someone, even long before she admits she's even interested, and Skoodge would want Zim to be happy and is unconditionally supportive, especially when Zim is mopey whenever his advances are rebuffed.

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Honestly, I love a Zim simp, but I genuinely think it'd be Gaz. Zim is obviously a Defect capable of feeling a larger range of emotions than other Irkens, but he still didn't receive socialization that makes 'romantic rituals' in any way natural to him. So I think Gaz and him would buddy up platonically and casually, initially, until she realizes she likes his company a little too much and freaks out about it.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Gaz does, 100%, and she's way more stubborn about it then Zim. I think Zim's denial is just that he doesn't "get" romance (see above) and what's going on with him, but once he understands he's fully down to bombard Gaz with affection, flirtations, and other over-the-top simp behavior until she stops pretending she's not gritting her teeth while fighting a blush.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Zim doesn't know what a soul is, but he does begin to understand the concept that they can be taken from human's in bargains. He becomes distracted by the topic. Bringing it up again later would have him largely dismissive.

Gaz would roll her eyes, and be extremely bitter about the idea that there is anyone 'made' for her. She's very independent, and I think someone with the sort of familial issues she does with no role model for a 'happy' family would be really resistant to being bound to someone in a way that would entitle them to her vulnerabilities. She'd be extremely resentful, dismissive, and irritable.

7. What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Really unfulfilled, listless. Without that companionship, they would never develop into people capable of meaningful relationships. I think both of them are very independent. Zim may claim he likes an audience, but there's an undeniable anxiety that he gets when faced with judgement. If it's anything but unwaveringly positive, he becomes delusional and creates a fantasy world in which everyone loves him, and the situation was just an initial misinterpretation. Gaz would have good friends, I think, but accepting Zim and his oddities and realizing she genuinely relates to someone who knows everything about her (via her brother + proximity + time) and is still here would mean a lot to her development.

GENERAL

1. Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Zim, without a doubt. Gaz may like Zim first, but she's completely in denial about it and completely stubborn. Zim is oblivious, and also a big ass simp, so his persistence and patience eventually gets Gaz to let her guard down and accept that she has hormones, she has romantic inclinations, and apparently they've both decided Zim is it. Time to be a big girl and accept it.

2. Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Honestly, I don't think they're the 'date' type of couple. I am probably 100% projecting since my boyfriend and I did not have an official 'date' until like 6 months into our first relationship, where we paused, turned to each other and were like 'wait is this our first date?' because we're homebodies whose idea of fun is projects. I think Zim and Gaz would hang out regularly, but it wouldn't ever be like a formal 'we are going to Bloaty's/the movies/etc as a date,' but rather 'I am going here and you are coming with me so I guess we are going together' thing. Zim doesn't get the point of a date, because if a date is by definition doing an activity together, then aren't they perpetually on a date? And Gaz isn't really a 'let's go to dinner formally' kind of person. They hang out, they go places, but it's never really a 'thing.'

3. What was their first kiss like?

I firmly believes Gaz would have to walk Zim through every aspect of physical affectionate. Zim is really wary about it, but I do think there's an instinct towards good ol' copulation, as well as a longing for positive touch after so long getting his ass whooped in the Academy, that would make him frustrated trying to figure out what this desire is. I think their first kiss is Gaz explaining to Zim, after he asks her outright what else there is after tame stuff like cuddling and hand holding, and Gaz walks him through the concept, implications, and so on until he feels ready to bravely and firmly try it.

While that does sound pretty clinical, I think actually it'd be really emotional for both of them. Zim would be really overwhelmed by how much passion is in a kiss, and Gaz would be similarly overwhelmed since, going into the relationship, she probably never anticipated Zim being interested in anything sexual, so any physical affection he expresses interest in is a surprise to her.

4. Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

I think Gaz probably would try out a few brief relationships, but never anything substantial or dramatic. Zim's never been in a relationship, so Gaz is his first everything. I do think they'd be each other's first sexual relationship, but I think Gaz would have most of her more minimal firsts with other people prior to Zim.

5. What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Zim older. I normally write Zim as the same height as Gaz, or only a little taller. Neither of them are tall. I do respect you 'short king' stans though.

6. What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Dib hates Zim, firmly and completely, at the beginning of their relationship. It takes a lot of self-reflection, meaningful sibling discussions, and probably a few screaming matches that eventually get to the real root of the issue (Dib's ingrained fear that something would happen to Gaz, and that it'd his fault) before he came around. Zim is a big petty bitch and would gleefully antagonize him. They would never stop sniping at each other, but they'd begrudgingly (sort of) behave for Gaz. They would eventually become frenemies and bros, but they'd die and also kill each other before admitting any sort of cordiality.

Professor Membrane adores Zim, and treats him like the son he never had/always wanted, the one who wants to have long discussions about science and can keep up with the theoreticals. Gaz hates it.

The Base and Gaz are cool. They have an understanding borne from two sentient creatures who have found themselves in the position of trying to keep Zim from killing himself, killing other people, or from coming to (too much) harm. Gaz initially hates Gir, but eventually she figures out how to get him to chill out when it's important. Minimoose and her are also cool, but he creeps Gaz out a little.

7. Who takes the lead in social situations?

Zim thinks he does, but it's really just Gaz slapping her hand over his mouth before he can say something stupid, or translating whatever nonsense just came out of his mouth when he's done talking.

8. Who gets jealous easier?

Zim. Not even a question.

9. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear?

Zim. Also not even a question.

LOVE

1. Who said “I love you” first?

Gaz. Zim doesn't know what it means until she explains it. It takes him awhile to internalize it and reciprocate verbally, but Gaz is okay with that. He shows her how much he cares in other ways.

2. What are their primary love languages?

Without a doubt, Zim's is touch. Once he gets used to it, he's really greedy and possessive about proximity. Just having Gaz bump his arm is sometimes enough to set the worst of his nerves at ease.

Gaz's is acts of service. She's fine with Zim being physically clingy, but it means a lot to her how unflinching he is about protecting her, anticipating her needs, and remembering things.

3. Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

Zim. Gaz hates them, but she tolerates it. Sometimes.

4. How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

Cuddling is very frequent. Zim will just sort of shift in behind Gaz if she's playing a game and cling, and she'll just keep doing what she's doing until she's eventually done and reciprocates. Explicit PDA never happens, but Zim is very clingy and physically will plant himself between Gaz and people who he's distrustful towards.

5. Who initiates kisses?

Gaz. I think Zim would cling to her like a barnacle at every opportunity, but Zim would likely usually defer to Gaz for escalating intimacy.

6. Who’s the big and little spoon?

Zim big spoon. PAK too uncomfortable to let him be the little spoon.

7. What are their favorite things to do together?

I think just being around each other while they do projects, game, etc. would be their favorite thing to do. Sharing in hobbies without feeling pressured to be entertaining, but still feeling like their presence is valued and wanted by the other.

8. Who’s better at comforting the other?

Being a people, and having more emotional competency, Gaz is better. Zim does his best though.

9. Who’s more protective?

Zim, if we're talking about quantity. Gaz, however, if we're talking about quality. Zim screams at chihuahuas for looking at Gaz, and also does protect her from genuine threats, but he overreacts frequently. Gaz, however, would know when Zim's out of his depth and would break the spine of anything that's a threat to him.

10. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Physical, for both. Neither of them is really used to verbal affection, whether it be giving or receiving. It's a lot more natural to be demonstrative.

11. What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

Me, cackling as I copy and paste this link that I imagine is from their mutual perspectives:

https://open.spotify.com/track/4nlT0Ch4qpqoS8O1RsdzjH?si=d6d8e1e19a7d4dc7

12. What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

There's lots, and I'm sure most of them are inside jokes, but the tops are Zimmothy + Little Gaz.

13. Who remembers the little things?

It's hard to say. Zim would retain an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Gaz, and tries to spoil her and accommodate her at every opportunity, but Gaz never forgets to pack an extra umbrella and a raincoat.

DOMESTIC LIFE

1. If they get married, who proposes?

Zim.

2. What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

No one but their mutual 'families.' A very small, intimate ceremony. The reception though is massive, courtesy of Professor Membrane who has no idea how to separate his personal life with his public one.

3. How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

0 kiddos. Cannot product viable, compatible DNA to produce a spawn.

4. Do they have any pets?

Does Gir count?

5. Who’s the stricter parent?

If Gir is the child, Zim. Gaz will let him get away with murder, both because she can't be bothered to control him, and also because she thinks it's funny how mad Zim gets when she lets him go wild.

6. Who worries the most?

Between Gaz "apathetic is my middle name" Membrane and Invader "I have perpetual anxiety" Zim? No idea.

7. Who kills the bugs in the house?

Gir. He eats them long before anyone can find them. But both Gaz and Zim will point out any he misses.

8. How do they celebrate holidays?

Zim fucking hates Christmas, so him and Membrane get down in a bunker for it while Dib and Gaz spend some sibling time somewhere, drinking cocoa and video chatting with the respective morons. Other holidays, they basically go wherever Professor Membrane is in the world with Dib to have a 'family' holiday.

9. Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Zim doesn't sleep, but he likes the resting and the peacefulness of getting to curl around Gaz in her sleep without her leaving. So him by default.

10. Who’s the better cook?

Zim has a 'kiss the chef' apron and everything.

11. Who likes to dance?

Neither of them, but Zim does 'victory dances' compulsively.

#ZAGR #Invader Zim #asks #anaylsis #ship post #hella long #RavenFollower13 #fanfiction #Gaz #Zim #amyisherenowansweringyou

[arashikitten]

Monkie Kid Soulmate Au

Thank you, MKD, for helping me create this monstrosity. 

I noticed there weren’t any soulmate au’s for Monkie Kid yet so I decided to make one Myself!

In this au, there are three types of soulmate a person can have: the typical romantic soulmate, platonic soulmate (i.e. best friends, family, things of that nature), and enemy soulmates (rivals, nemesis, mortal enemies, things along that line). People can have multiple soulmates, and in fact it is very common for people to have three or more at any given point! It is also possible for someone to have only one or two types of soulmate: for example, someone who is asexual might only have platonic soulmates and/or enemy soulmates. 

As for how one identifies their soulmate, a small mark/symbol will appear on the wrist, palm, or back of the person a year before they meet their soulmate in person, at which point the mark will take on color. The placement of the marks often determines the type of bond: a mark on the palm indicates a romantic bond, on the wrist indicates a platonic bond, and on the back indicates an enemy bond (that being said, there have been instances where this rule does not apply).

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into the meat of this au!

Red Son is born with two soulmarks: A stylized, cartoon bull head, and a large, red and gold fan. They both appear on his back, and from a young age, he tries to ignore the possibility that his own parents may one day become his worst enemies. He grows up very close to DBK and Iron fan: he wants desperately to maintain a good relationship with them, and he ends up cutting off any sort of interaction with anyone else.

DBK gets sealed under the mountain, and Red’s world shatters. Both he and Iron fan grieve for a long time, and Red Son now feels even more alone. 

So, he starts attempting to free his father from his prison under the mountain.

Fast forward about 300 years, to when MK is born without a single mark. He grows up and for ten years, his palms, wrists and back remain blank.

Then, about a month after his tenth birthday, a small, grey dragon appears, wrapped around his wrist, along with a grey cartoon pig wearing a chef’s hat (Pigsy) and a small cicada (Mr. Tang). 

Six months later, MK gets kicked out of his home, living on the streets for five months until, late one night, Pigsy finds him in the alleyway next to the noodle shop (The small stylized monkey face on Pigsy’s wrist glows with color. He and Tang adopt Mk two weeks later.). 

Mei walks into the shop about a month later, while Tang is telling MK a story from Journey to the West. All three of the soul marks on her wrist light up, and she and Mk become best friends over a game of Monkey mech.

Six years later, Red Son wakes up with a grey, stylized Monkey face on his palm, and a small dragon wrapped around his left wrist. He despises them both; he begins wearing finger-less gloves, if only so that he doesn’t have to see the grinning face of the Demon who sealed his father away staring up at him every day. Besides, he doesn’t need other soul mates: Once his father is free, Red Son’s family will be whole again, and they will rule the world with an iron fist (Note that at this point, Red is in complete denial that DBK and Iron fan could be his enemies: the fact that their marks showed up on his back indicates that they will become his worst enemies, so Red has spent his entire life trying desperately to ensure that doesn’t happen.). (He still fails in the end)

Mei and Mk both wake up that same morning with a new soulmark: A small, stylized flame that appears on Mk’s palm and on Mei’s wrist. They both gush to each other about it over a bowl of noodles, Mei is excited to get a new bestie while Mk is freaking out over the fact that he may have a boyfriend/girlfriend in a years time (Note: I 100% headcanon Mk as both gay and trans: but I like to think he struggled a bit more with his sexuality. At this point, Mk is still questioning it a bit, but by the time the events of episode one roll around, he’s pretty sure of his identity. Mei is ace, Red Son is Bi, Pigsy is Pan, and Mr. Tang is gay.). Mk also gains a small peach on his right wrist, and he and Mei speculate as to why only Mk got a second mark (Way up on Flower Fruit Mountain, Sun Wukong gains a new soul mark for the first time in 400 years. This prompts him to begin looking into possibly getting a successor).

Mei, Mk, Pigsy, and Mr. Tang also get two marks on their backs: a demon head and an iron fan. Mk and Mr. Tang, upon seeing what exactly the marks are, absolutely freak out. They both firmly believe that the marks represent DBK and Princess Iron fan, and the implication that two very powerful demons might be going after them in a year’s time is more than enough to scare the two. Pigsy and Mei are a bit more skeptical, citing that DBK and Iron fan are just myths, and even if they weren’t, DBK would still be trapped under the mountain by the Monkey King’s staff. 

This only freaks the other two out more, as that carries the implication that DBK will be free to wreak havoc on the world in a year’s time. So, MK and Mr. Tang begin to delve even deeper into the lore surrounding DBK and Sun Wukong, desperately trying to prepare just in case (Sun Wukong actually happens to overhear one of these study sessions while he’s out searching for a successor, and is impressed by Mk’s knowledge of him. He decides to keep an eye on the kid, and eventually makes the choice to make him his successor.).

As the year progresses, MK gets three new enemy marks:a dark grey spider on his shoulder (It scares the hell out of MK the first time he sees it, and he smacks it multiple times before realizing that it’s not an actual spider. He then proceeds to panic even more when he realizes it’s a soulmark.), a more menacing version of Mk’s own soul mark that appears on his lower back (three guesses as to who that one belongs to), and finally, a pale grey skull right in the middle of Mk’s shoulder blades, larger than any other soulmark so far. With each new enemy mark, Mk becomes more and more nervous: Just what will happen to give him so many enemies?

Meanwhile, Red Son gains only one new mark: the same pale grey skull, right in between the fan and the bull head. This one worries Red Son the most: while he has never actually seen the white bone spirit, he’s heard several disturbing horror stories over the years, and the idea of becoming allies or gods forbid, enemies with the cruel creature makes the fire demon nervous. 

Then, we get to the pilot. Red frees his father, MK gets the staff, and the chase across the city ensues. Red returns to the lair empty handed and bruised. He heads to his room to patch up, when he notices a small flare of bright, emerald green on his wrist. Pulling off the finger-less gloves, Red Son sees that the dragon is now a bright, glowing green. The mark on his palm has also taken on a color, bright reds mixing with vibrant golds as the colored monkey mark on his palm smiles up at him. 

That’s when it clicks: The only two people he’d encountered today, aside from his mother and father, are the Noodle Boy and the mysterious person on the bike. 

Red Son furiously vows that he will never, ever side with the Noodle boy, even if it kills him, and he will remain steadfastly loyal to his mother and father (From then on, he takes extra care to hide his palms and wrists from his parents, out of the intense fear that they will cast him out if they learn of who exactly the marks represent.) (it doesn’t work).

Meanwhile, Mk is freaking the fuck out. He can wield the Monkey King’s staff, he just saw one of the most powerful demons get freed from a 300+ year prison, confirming his theory that DBK and Iron fan are the two marks on his shoulder blades (Both of which, Mk notes, gained color that day, further confirming that they relate to DBK and Iron fan.), he got chased all over town by Red Son (who Mk recognizes from the myths), and to top it all off, the flame mark on his palm turned a bright, royal blue sometime between him leaving to deliver noodles, and him getting back to the shop, and the only other person that Mk encountered during that time that even remotely fits the mark is, you guessed it, Red Son. 

Mk relays all of this to the gang, at which point Mei notices that the flame on her wrist has also turned bright blue, providing even further confirmation. Mk is very much bummed out by this, because out of all the people that could’ve been the fire on his palm, of course it had to be the demon who attempted to kill him.

Still, Mk pushes that to the side in favor of focusing on finding the Monkey King. 

The pilot continues much in the same way as in canon, with one notable exception: When Iron Fan shows up on the gang’s way to Flower Fruit mountain, she sees the small blue flame on MK’s palm. Putting two and two together, she realizes that her son is soulbound to MK, and that this bond may eventually cause Red to turn on his parents, which is why Iron Fan and DBK begin to push him away in later episodes. 

After that, things resume canon again: MK survives and gets to Flower Fruit Mountain, Wukong tells him that he chose Mk to be his successor (Which is when the peach mark on MK wrist gains color, and Mk proceeds to lose his entire shit over the fact that holy fuck, he’s soul bonded to Sun freaking Wukong. Wukong finds this both utterly hilarious and a little bit adorable.), the big fight between DBK and Mk happens, yada yada yada. The day is saved, and Mk goes home with his newfound powers.

Episode one is where we begin to see more long-term changes. By this point, both DBK and Iron fan know that their son is bound to the little thief, most likely romantically, and that their own blue flame mark is located on their backs, implying that Red Son will most likely turn against them in the near future. So, they start to distance themselves from him. 

They send Red to take control of the weather station and defeat MK, something that both of them know will end in failure. Red Son is oblivious to this (not really) and gladly takes on the task, desperate to prove himself. And t first, it seems that Red is actually successful!

...Before Mk comes back with a new grip on his powers and absolutely destroys Red Son. 

Red Son goes back to the lair, sparks still flying off of him, and on his way to his room, he overhears quiet conversation between his parents.

Curious, he quietly listens in, and finds out that not only do his parents know about the mark on his palm (How??? How did they find out???), but they are also planning on a way to get him “out of the picture”. 

Red Son absolutely panics at this revelation, and begins to spiral into waves of self-loathing and intense anxiety. Now he is desperate to remain on his parent’s good side by any means necessary, and so he buries himself in plans and research on powerful artifacts that he can steal for his father. 

While that’s going on, Mk meets the spider queen (The Spider on his shoulder becomes purple and green, and Mk spends three hours scrubbing at it in the shower that night), the whole clone thing happens, Mei gets her sword, and the calabash incident goes down (the main difference here is that when Mk hears that Red Son was also sealed away with his parents, Mk feels inexplicably upset about it: as much as he dislikes the fire demon, there’s still a small part of him that desperately wants them to be friends.). At this point, both Mk and Mei have kinda just accepted that the blue flame mark exists, and they don’t pay it too much attention, even if Mk kinda wants to know more about the hotheaded fire demon.

Then the race rolls around. At this point, Red is a nervous, paranoid wreck, his self esteem (which really wasn’t all that great to begin with) is deteriorating at a frightening speed, and he is desperate for a chance to prove to his parents that he is loyal, that he’s not worthless. 

So when he hears that the winner of this year’s great wall race will receive a peach of immortality, he rushes to apply for it. He excitedly tells Iron Fan, fervently hoping that she’ll at least listen to him, only to be crushed when she dismisses him out of hand, saying that even if the peaches could do  anything for them, it wouldn’t change all of Red Son’s failures in the past. Red Son, disheartened, still joins the race, and is absolutely furious when he sees that both Mk and Mei (When Red found out that she’s a descendant of one of the great dragons, he started calling her “Horse Girl” under the assumption that the dragon she is descended from was the dragon horse from Journey to the West) also entered. He starts arguing and bantering with them, and for just a moment, Red feels... content. Not happy, per se, but the constant anxiety and paranoia begins to lessen for a moment.

Then DBK and Iron fan show up, and Red Son goes silent. His back goes rigid, and his eyes glaze over a bit. Mei and Mk both take notice of the Fire demon’s sudden change in demeanor, and even though they still both think he’s a bit of a prick, they can’t help but be a bit concerned. 

Mk is actually about to say something to Red when Jin and Yin hijack the commentator’s box, and the race starts. 

The race goes mostly the same as in canon, with the main exeptions being that Red is far quieter and more focused, and Iron Fan’s taunts are much crueller and more demeaning.

Mei and Mk win, with Red Son getting second place. Instead of attempting to steal the peach trophy, Red Son just... watches them, looking almost broken as he watches the two celebrate. Mk, noticing the strange behavior, reaches out to ask if Red is ok (The reaction the fire demon had to his parents showing up set off all sorts of alarms in Mk’s head, because that had been exactly how he reacted back when he still lived with his parents.), only to be interrupted by DBK’s reemergence from the mountain. 

Iron fan tells Red Son that they are leaving, and Mk immediately picks up on what’s going on. He calls out to Red  just before Iron Fan’s winds whisk him away, and terrified look that the fire demon sends him confirms Mk’s suspicions.

That night, Mk comes up with a plan: He’s gonna get Red Son away from his parents, or die trying. The only other person who knows at first, is Mei: She also has Red Son’s soul mark, and while she’s not as keen on the fire demon as Mk is, she still doesn’t want him to have to deal with abusive parents.

While Mk is doing that, DBK and Iron Fan have fully leaned into the enemy role, disowning Red Son and keeping him locked away in the lair. Red just breaks down at this, and begins refusing to eat or move. All that time that he’d spent, desperately trying to maintain some sort of good relationship with his parents, for nothing. The only people that he could count on turned against him, and that loneliness hits him like a freight train. 

The only thing that brings him comfort, oddly enough, are the soul marks on his left palm and wrist: he takes to rubbing them whenever he feels particularly bad. By now, his feelings toward Mk and Mei are much closer to something positive: they both seemed concerned about him after the race, and where that might’ve pissed him off a few months earlier, now it comforts him with the knowledge that at least someone out there gives a damn. 

We get to episode 8, when Mk gets the skeleton key. Instead of Red Son being the one to steal the key, Iron fan is the one to do it, and she reveals her master plan:

She and DBK plan on releasing the White Bone Spirit from it’s prison, in order for it to possess Red Son so that both will be fully under their control.

Iron Fan gets away with the key, the White Bone Spirit possesses Red Son, and DBK and Iron Fan use him to wreck the entire city.

Mei and Mk do their best to avoid fighting Red Son: it feels so wrong every time they do clash, because they both know it’s not Red Son, they know he’s not the one in control, but it still hurts that they couldn’t get him out in time, that one of their soulmates is suffering like this. 

The final straw comes a week after the initial possession.

Mk is forced to fight a possessed Red son to protect a badly injured Pigsy. Mk begs for Red to fight back, to break free, knowing that the continued possession is taking a toll on the demon’s body. Mei joins him, insisting that Red is stronger than this, that he needs to think about the people that care about him. 

That is enough to allow Red to break through, just for a moment.

He steps back, tears streaming from his eyes as he brokenly whispers that if even his own parents can’t be bothered to care about someone as weak, as broken as he is, then who the hell would? Mei and Mk hate him, his parents disowned him, and it’s not like he really interacts with anyone else.

He is immediately taken by surprise when the two teens blurt out that even though they might’ve started out on opposite sides, that they never fully hated him. Mk in particular says that they were actually worried about Red Son after the race, that they were planning on getting him out before Iron fan stole the skeleton key, that they were still planning on helping him escape, that they really, actually care.

Red Son finally breaks free, and Mk seals the White Bone spirit away again. Mei and Mk beat the absolute crap out of DBK and Iron Fan, who end up escaping  again.

They take Red to one of the few remaining hospitals, so he can recover from his possession, and they make sure to get him some serious therapy while they’re at it. 

Red Son wakes up two days later to see Mei and Mk sitting by his hospital bed on either side of him, and they give him a warm smile when they see that he’s awake.

He cries for a bit as he realizes that it’s over. He’s free now, even if he doesn’t have anywhere to go anymore, and there are two people in the world who keep that blue flame close to their chest instead of turning their backs.

For the first time in over a year, Red doesn’t hide the marks on his wrist and palms.

After all, why should he from the ones who care for him the most?

#monkie kid #Monkie kid au #soulmate au #spicynoodleshipping #traffic light trio #Red son #Mk #qi xiaotian #mei #long xiaojiao #Pigsy #mr. tang #DBK #Princess Iron fan #DBK and Princess Iron Fan's A+ parenting #you can have platonic soulmates au #you can have enemy soulmates au #multiple soulmate au #blue son #yes blue son happens in this au #Trans mk #gay mk #Ace Mei #Bisexual Red Son #Literally the only heterosexuals here are DBK and Iron Fan #Red son redemption arc #Give red son a redemption arc 2020 #also get this boi some therapy pls #Mk and Mei are platonic life partners #Mk and Red Son are romantic life partners

[zuppizup]

You ain't slick, zuppi, I saw those awesome au ideas in the tags of your reblog. If you're alright with it, care to elaborate on any of them? (No pressure if you don't, I promise).

I am like, so super slick… clearly!

Hmm, I guess I can elaborate on most of them, because they will not likely see the light of day (with my current WIP rate)

Dark Magic AU:

Whenever people say that Dark Magic can coexist with Primal magic and magical creatures, it makes me think of the every day life implications of that. Even in our world, there’s a black market for any number of things and I don’t see why it would be any different in TDP. Without getting into the actual heart of the story (because this idea is probably the most likely to get written), I’m interesting in exploring a world where trade and co-existence between Xadia and the Pentarchy is a lot more open that in canon. I’m interested in how that would affect the characters, their relationships and motivations.

Sarai lives time travel AU:

Man, where did this idea even come from again? I think it started as a “OMG, how angsty would it be if Callum was given the choice of undoing his mother’s death, but losing everything he’s gained as a result.” And then that kinda grew, though I guess I could keep it as a one shot.

And Numpty got an idea for an insanely cool Sarai and kids refugee AU which 100% lives rent free in my head because of course it does. Do it, Numpty!!!

Soulmate AU:

This is almost impossible to talk about without giving stuff away 😅

I’m not super into soulmates, so I want to play around with the idea and explore a world where that’s just an accepted thing. How it affects pretty much every relationship (romantic and platonic). How would you react to your soul mate being someone you didn’t expect. Waiting for the penny to drop. Confusion regarding other relationships you might have. That sort of thing. (Add Callum the over thinker and Rayla the “if you bring this up, I will bind myself to killing you” person, that would be fun, right? Well, not for them but that rarely concerns me.)

Zombie AU:

This is pretty much what it says on the tin. Rayllum, but with Zombies because, I don’t know. Zombies are cool? And I wanted to give Rayla a hurley. I don’t know, maybe I’ll get back to it for Halloween or something.

Fanfic ask meme

#anon asks #ask meme #thanks for asking!

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 4!

Tag list is open again! I’m trying to figure out some things, but I definitely want to expand beyond the 50tag limit on mobile!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Marinette had long since shooed her friends back to their rooms, but now she felt at a loss. She had tried to lay down and fall asleep early but her whole body seemed to buzz with awareness, the same livewire feeling as earlier but muted. She tossed and turned as the sky got dark, and eventually she gave up, pulling on a light jacket and bringing Trixx and Kaalki sleeping in the pockets before grabbing a sketchbook and making her way to the roof.

Gotham was gorgeous, even under the dark sky, lights giving shape to the gothic architecture and the silhouettes of darker areas balancing the brightness. People and cars moved down on the street below, and from her spot on high, she thought she saw a few quick shadows leap from one building to another farther away on the horizon. The famous vigilantes of Gotham, she guessed.

And then she heard feet, landing softly on the roof behind her. And she remembered exactly why this city had vigilantes.

She waited, counted to two as she heard their slow approach, and then spun, one leg flying low and knocking them over, her hand reaching out and twisting one arm back while she kicked the other one away from where they had tried to use it to catch themselves. In a half moment, she had them pinned, face into the gravel roof top.

And then she recognized the costume under her knee.

“Mon dieu, je suis desolé, je suis- I’m so sorry, Mr. Red Robin, Sir, I didn’t-“ she scrambled away, and then jumped forward again, grabbing his arm and helping him up. “I’m so sorry.”

To her shock, he laughed. “Oh my god, that was incredible. Where’d you learn to do that?”

She felt her face heat up. “Oh, well, France has its own villains, and I just- I thought you were-“

“I think that’s on me for sneaking up on you like that,” Red Robin said congenially. “Don’t worry about it, Miss...”

“Marinette!” She blurted out. “I’m Marinette.”

“Well, Miss Marinette,” Red Robin gave her an appraising looks, and she couldn’t help but try to stand a bit taller, straighter. “I wasn’t aware there were any major villains in Paris right now, let alone ones serious enough for schoolchildren to be learning that level of self defense.”

“Not aware?” The words almost blew Marinette over. Almost four years of protecting Paris, and people weren’t even aware there was a villain? “We’ve been fighting off Hawkmoth for four years!” She paled as soon as she said it, the implications of her superhero activities in that sentence catching up to her. “That is, literally, everyone has to fight him off, since he targets us with the Akumas, and then-“

Red Robin held out a hand, stopping the flow of her words. “Hold up, wait. Explain what this... Hawkmoth? Does.”

Marinette took a deep breath. “Hawkmoth has the ability to find people with overwhelmingly negative emotions, and then he uses magic to turn those innocent people into monsters called Akumas which do his bidding. He’s been doing this for almost four years, to the point where people in Paris are afraid to feel anything negative, or he might try to use them. And with so many people repressing their emotions, they’ve started breaking down, and the buildup of extreme negative mental states just creates increasingly powerful Akumas.”

She said it all in one very long breath, and at the end felt lighter. On the one hand, it was horrifying that no one outside of France, or possibly even just Paris, knew about any of it. On the other- if they didn’t know, then she could try reaching out again, this time face to face. She could ask for help.

Red Robin just stared at her, incredulous and- worried? “Are there any heroes who are trying to stop him?”

She leaned back, indignant. “Of course! We’ve got Chat Noir and Ladybug, and the entire Miraculous Team!”

Even with his eyes covered in that disconcerting white, she could see them narrow. “Do you think you’d be able to tell me a little bit more about them? About what’s going on in France?”

Marinette assessed the situation, and then very quickly came to a decision. “I think I can do you one better. I personally know some of the heroes, and if you think you can offer anything to them-help, or training, or even just advice- I can ask Ladybug and Chat Noir to come here to speak to you.”

His eyes seemed to widen. “I can’t guarantee anything of that sort, Marinette, I’m sorry- but if I can talk to them, and bring Batman in on this, then we’ll see what we can do and if we can help.”

Marinette nodded. “I can have them meet you tomorrow night. Up here on the roofs?”

He cast his gaze around. “Wayne Enterprises. The rooftop there. You’re certain they can be here tomorrow, say around ten?”

“They can use magic to get here,” she confides, and he nods, seeming to understand.

“I’ll meet with them first,” he tells her carefully. “And then, if necessary, I’ll call Batman in to speak to them as well. I’m sorry that Paris has been suffering alone.”

She nods, feeling tears gathering in her eyes. She wants to hug him but she holds herself back, overflowing with gratitude and exhaustion and over all of it, relief that they might actually finally receive some sort of aid. “Thank you, Red Robin.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters, and Marinette can’t help but feel that she might not have been meant to hear it. “You should get inside. Even this high up, Gotham can be very dangerous at night.”

She nods, and gathers up the unused sketchbook. “Even if there’s nothing you can do. It’s good to know that somebody- knows. Thank you.”

She turns around before he can say anything else, ducking back inside and making her way back down to her room.

Trixx and Kaalki immediately zoom out of her pocket.

“Marinette, are you sure about this?” Kaalki questions, but Marinette just nods.

“I tried reaching out to the Justice League- several times!- back at the beginning! And Chloé said her father had sent in messages asking for aid as well! And now-“

She sat down on the bed and curled up, putting her head in her hands and just breathing. Trixx and Kaalki settled on her shoulders comfortingly.

“I need Adrien and Chloé.”

She pulls out her phone and calls Chloé first. She answers on the fifth ring.

“What’s wrong, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé demands.

“Not emergency. But I need to talk to you and Adrien now.”

Chloé huffs, and Marinette can almost see her eyes roll. “I’ll grab him.”

The blonde hangs up before Marinette can say thank you.

Carefully she uncurls her body and stands up, stretching lightly before she starts to pace. Is seems like only seconds after that there’s a knock on her door, and Adrien and Chloé are let in.

“I just had a run in with one of Gotham’s vigilantes,” Marinette begins with no preamble, “and they have no idea about what’s been happening in Paris. I volunteered to have them meet with the heroes tomorrow night here in Gotham in hopes that they’d be willing to work with us against Hawkmoth.”

She watched both of her friends blink dumbfoundedly.

Then Chloé snorted. “Yep. Dupain-Cheng, actual shitty action rom-com main character.”

“I am not!” Marinette yelled as Adrien doubles over laughing. “Listen, I’m going to use Kaalki to retrieve Tikki tomorrow, and then I was going to have the three of us meet them. On top of Wayne Enterprises.” She looked them both in the eyes, trying to impress upon them how serious she was. “We’ve been fighting against him for almost four years now, and between our inexperience and our actual lives, we haven’t gotten any closer to actually finding and stopping him. I think this is our chance to do that, and I need you both with me.”

Adrien hugged her. “We’ve got your back, Mari. You don’t have to worry.”

She relaxed into it as Chloé wrapped them both into her arms. “Thanks, guys. So, I was planning on telling them...”

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @dast218 @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate AU #fanfic

[pluviophile-bookworm]

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt. 4

I really need a pick-me-up after 2x11, and I feel like 1x7 might be what I'm looking for, so here I am again with another HSMTMTS rewatch. I'm genuinely so excited for both of these episodes, so without further ado, let's jump right into

1x6: She stands for... lies, pressure and very inappropriate suggestions (coming here after 2x11 might have been a mistake, actually)

I honestly don't get why Nini's reaction to seeing Ricky in full Troy costume was so big — he actually looked pretty ok to me. Sure, the wig is a bit too much, but so what, it's cute.

Ahhh my boy Reddy is so adorable in that talking head... 'click!' Gosh, I love seeing him so cheerful! Guess he's embracing his role as part of the crew. As he should.

'I'm home'. Yes, Sebby, and you look so good, too! Gosh, I love this scene so much. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it.

Gina looks beautiful, though — I mean, she looks beautiful in anything, but I really like the Taylor look on her.

Ok, I fully understand everyone's frustration about this picture — it's genuinely so hard to get a good picture of someone jumping up in the air, and I can only imagine what it would be like with six people. A bunch of my classmates tried to do something like that ages ago and, needless to say, it didn't go very well. No good pictures were taken that day.

Ah, Portwell: the early days. Ok, but wanting something and feeling like you have to get it is far from the same thing, EJ. Honestly, these two in their early days as accomplices... this is not the first time they've been like 'X is the same thing as Y' when it's obviously not. I mean, of course, that time they became accomplices because 'we want the same thing' — which, at that point, they didn't.

Ok, but they were in such unison with that 'Not now!'... couple goals! You know, even before either of them had considered the possibility of them being a couple for real.

That's a lot of pressure that Miss Jenn is putting on dear Carlito over there. I mean, he's one of the youngest at the drama club and he has to essentially do her job for her, all while she's not even sure if she'll be able to return to her job. I just... keep reminding myself that these kids are closer in age to my little brother than they are to me (except for EJ, who is precisely in the middle), and then the pressure they're under takes on completely new proportions in my mind. None of them should have to deal with all of this. And no amount of 'trust the process' is making it better.

'Should I just live vicariously through someone else?' Oh Reddy, you should just live for yourself. I mean, the truth is I don't practice what I preach most of the time, but I really do mean this. Just go out there and live your best life. You're not Ricky's therapy dog or anything (that being said, Ricky's getting a therapy dog when?).

What part of 'a forest of boys' does Nini not get? It's simple enough. Just help Carlos do his job, how about that? I mean, he shouldn't have to do everything himself anyway.

See? He cracked. That's what happens when you put all this responsibility on a teen's shoulders and be like 'deal with it'. He was just trying his best, you guys. He did not deserve all the clapback.

Ricky's forced optimism about Miss Jenn and the show is too much even for me. Sure, I know everything turns out mostly alright at the end, but this just sounds like Ricky's on the verge of a breakdown. You know, every time someone's been too unrealistically positive on this show, it has ended in a breakdown. And that's the last thing I want.

I do agree about the simple acoustic version of the song, though. Sometimes simple is the best option.

Major props to Carlos for going up to Mr. Mazzara like that. If someone had bullied me, and especially if that someone was a teacher, I'd never have dared to call them 'Benjamin Mazarra!' to their face. Even when he's on the verge of despair, this boy is still the boldest. And we love him for that.

Is this where the 'Carlos Surname' joke started, though? I had forgotten. It was funny while it lasted.

Ricky doesn't know it yet, but he's seriously playing with Gina's feelings there. And I don't blame him because, again, he doesn't know yet, but I still feel bad for her.

'Despite the 4.3 GPA, I'm actually an idiot.' — EJ is high intelligence, low wisdom, confirmed. Not that this is news, but I really don't remember much about this season, so I'm pointing this out now.

Now forgive me if I'm not feeling for Miss Jenn after 2x11... she did some really unforgivable things there. Still, as much as I want to say a real qualified teacher would not do any of that, my personal experience suggests otherwise, quite unfortunately. Miss Jenn might not be very emotionally mature, but not having legal teaching credentials is not her biggest issue, really. It is precisely her lack of emotional maturity.

OMG, Big Red accidentally invited the entire drama club over! And that, I guess, is half of how Redlyn established themselves as the hosts of every out-of-school drama club gathering. Thanksgiving is, of course, the other half. Gosh, those two were the parents of the drama club even before they were a couple. Guess they're soulmates in that way, too.

Ok, so I didn't comment on this after 2x8 when Big Red did it to Ricky, but now that I finally notice that Seb did it to Carlos, too (I took my time, thanks), I need to talk about the knee touch thing. See, this is exactly the amount of touch I used to be comfortable with (since I'm very touch-averse) — both on the giving and on the receiving end — and it can mean so much when you feel bad. It's a subtle 'hey, I'm here, it's going to be fine', a sort of hug-without-the-hugging... I feel like this is a gesture we don't see enough of in media and it can feel just as intimate as, say, holding hands or cuddling. I don't want to talk about kissing because I don't know anything about it. But I just love how we've got the knee touch depicted by both a romantic pairing and a platonic pairing in the show. Ok, rant over. But I just really wanted to talk about this because, well, I saw myself in it.

'Her past is a little bit sketchy'... I see, Ash has already started writing Truth, Justice and Songs in Our Key, even if she doesn't know it quite yet.

Miss Jenn finding out Mike is Ricky's dad is just as awkward as it should be. Whatever they had going on should have ended right then and there.

'... people in the dramatic arts are insane' — 'Thank you.' — Umm, Miss Jenn, you are not really helping your case there. Quite frankly, you're lucky you've got the allegiance of the entire drama club. I don't think they'd have your back as much after 2x11, though.

Ok, but... Big Red wearing a longcoat just to take it off for the dramatic flair of it all? An icon if I've ever seen one. Also, mad props to Larry for apparently learning this number in record time after Dara got injured.

Oh, and... mad props to all the kids in-universe for writing, rehearsing, and learning this entire number in one night.

So both Seb and Natalie have solo lines in the song... and Seb was promoted to main in s2. So does this mean Natalie will get the same treatment in s3? I mean, that will probably mean they'll try to stick her in some sort of romantic plot, and I really don't need that, but I really, really want her to be a main character.

Also, let's not forget we had our first Redlyn moment in this number... seeing them dance together makes my heart jump with joy!

I won't lie, though, the entire dance number and everything was just a little bit uncomfortable to watch after 2x11... these kids do so much for Miss Jenn, and what does she do? Put insane amounts of pressure on some of them, shuts others down at every attempt to put in a word, favours yet others despite their abysmal performance at the audition, and then has the audacity to tell that same person to jump off of something high, with all the implications attached? Not that I'm naming any names, of course. Ok, this has taken a sudden and uncalled for turn for the dark, so I guess I'll just move right along to the next episode now.

1x7: A world where 'That was terrible!' and 'I'm so happy!' can both be true at the same time

My girl Ash is doing the recap! And she's a pun queen, too. 'Miss Jenn was in hot water, Carlos was a hot mess...' — not pleasant, but so true. But wbk. Ashlyn is the best.

And... Ricky and Nini's on and off chemistry is back on. Good for them, because after season 2, I really needed to see a good rehearsal. But I'm thinking EJ's joy at the end-of-school bell had little to do with Thanksgiving...

That look Reddy gave Ashlyn as she was walking out... might be me digging for breadcrumbs, but I think I just saw the exact moment my boy fell, and he fell hard. Ok, I realise now after I've said this that 'fall' probably isn't the best choice of words, but you know what I mean. Fell for Ashlyn. Not like... oh, never mind.

'So meek, so mild, sword!' I can't really explain it, but I love this line. And I feel like it describes Ash so perfectly: like, she might be meek and mild, but if you cross her, she's armed. Gosh, I love her!

Not the Caswell parents leaving their children alone over two holiday breaks! No wonder these two are the way they are. But they're about to get a beautiful Thanksgiving celebration. [Fun personal fact: the year I was born, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving day. That doesn't mean much in Bulgaria, but my dad works with a lot of Americans so my parents knew about it and I've known this and that about this holiday I've never celebrated since I was very young. I have no idea why I'm telling you this, but Thanksgiving has always reminded me of my birthday for this reason, so... ok, moving on.]

So I know she kind of suggested it, but... why does Carlos think it's his place to invite people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, this was part 2 of Redlyn establishing themselves as the hosts for any out-of-school gathering, but... oh well, it led to a beautiful party with everyone, so... I'll allow it.

I really liked Nini's talk with her grandma. It was really nice, and a very fitting way to remind everyone what Thanksgiving is originally about. I feel like people often forget that when it comes to... literally every major commercialised holiday.

Wow, EJ really is that person where once the tap is open, it can't stop spilling. And I kind of like that look on him. It's a transitional stage between EJ 1.0 and EJ 2.0, and I appreciate it for what it is.

Ahhhh it's Redlyn's first proper 1-on-1 conversation! I mean, it got kind of really awkward really quickly because of — surprise, surprise — Nini and Ricky (and EJ), but those two are so adorable! No more breadcrumbs — we're about to get an entire five-course meal here! Which goes really well with the Thanksgiving setting, now that I think of it.

Gosh, they've never really talked and my boy whips out the 'the only thing I'd ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight' line right off the bat? Boy is whipped! But like, he is the master of grand gestures where Ashlyn is concerned. Still, in this first moment they shared, he really was like, go big or go home, and home isn't really an option here. But I should have known, it's in his name after all. Gosh, I love both of those two so much! Especially when they're together.

Ok, so... this is a really bad way to meet your mother's new boyfriend. Poor Ricky. As if ringing his mum wasn't hard enough already.

See, when I rewatch season 1, I get where the Rina stans are coming from, but then again, remember when I used to say I wanted Gina and EJ to just be friends? Yeah, that's changed too. Not that I ever shipped Rina romantically — I rarely ever ship a pairing unless they're explicitly stated to have something going on, just because I can't see that sort of stuff very clearly — but I really, really want them (Ricky and Gina, I mean) to be really good friends. Once they get past the awkwardness of their sort of history, I mean.

I miss the good old days when Nini was a nice person... I mean, we kind of (really) had a glimpse of that in 2x11 (I'm guessing she was making up for Miss Jenn's very inappropriate slip-up), but I miss the days before she was this big internet-famous songwriter and actually had to be convinced by Ashlyn that she should write songs for herself... wait, now that I think of it... Ashlyn might have helped create a monster there. Oh well. Still love her so much!

You know, I love the Choosical, but it's all a bit sad, if you stop to think about it for a sec. Just picture little single-digit-aged Carlito making this whole thing up in an attempt to participate in his favourite thing... only to not have anyone to play with for the next ten years. Great, I just made myself cry. The thing is, I relate to that story a bit too much. I remember in preschool, when the rest of the children would play together, I'd sit in a corner by myself and read the only book that was there... over and over, day after day. I don't even remember a single thing about that little book right now, but back then I clung to it like it was everything. And I couldn't very much share the experience with any of my peers, seeing as I was the only kid there who could actually read (my grandma used to be a preschool teacher and she taught me to read when I was 4). So yeah. I went off on a rather personal tangent there. Thing is, I know how little Carlos felt and I'm so happy that he finally gets to share this thing he made with a loving and supportive group of friends. Everything has its time and place, I guess.

'Look, I'm not following Big Red just because he paid me a compliment' — of course not, dear, you know your own worth and we love that for you — but see, when he said that thing that you're referring to as a compliment, he did not lie! You really are the brightest star and deserve the brightest spotlight. See, the thing I love most about Redlyn's compliments to each other is that they're so sincere and state nothing but the absolute truth. Those two just see each other for what they are, and love each other as they are. And I think that is beautiful.

It's so funny to me every time someone gets something wrong and Carlos just walks past them out of nowhere and corrects them without missing a beat. I kind of relate to that side of him, too. Except it's usually about grammar and language in my case, not HSM trivia.

If I were Nini in this scene, and was suddenly put face to face with Emily on the spot like that, I would not have been able to handle it. So props to Nini for handling it.

Yeah, sorry to break it to you, Emily dear, but whatever you're doing is not a Cockney accent. I don't claim to be an accent expert, but I know first-hand what Cockney sounds like and... that's just not it. Even Dick Van Dyke was closer to a Cockney accent in Mary Poppins, and that's saying something. (See, I feel bad criticising any aspect of Emily because her actress is no longer with us, but... I have no idea who let them get away with passing this off as Cockney).

Is this the beginning of Jennzara there? I am loving this.

Of course Carlos was obsessed with Glee as a kid... but wasn't he a bit too young for it when it aired? I know I was, and I'm older than those kids. I mean, I waited until I was emotionally mature enough to watch Glee, and that wasn't until 3 years ago, when I was 18 going on 19. Ok, I'm thinking too much into this. Moving on.

Ahhhhh, Redlyn! Just... all of their moments. But screaming the lyrics of What I've Been Looking For on top of their lungs while looking right at each other... was so beautiful to watch. Give me more of that!

EJ: 'That was terrible.' Seb: 'I'm so happy!' — Moods, both of them. Those two are real-life emojis, aren't they? And we love them for that.

'... without laughing... or killing each other.' — I feel like that last specification was needed given that it's Ricky and EJ we're talking about, and especially what happened last time they had to do a one-on-one exercise during rehearsal. The ensuing scene, however, is the most hilarious thing!

Root beer, huh? Is that the HSMTMTS code for 'awkward' now? I mean, Nini and Gina had a nice talk there, all things considered. I really want the two of them to put the Ricky thing past them and be friends... but we'll see.

Gina is trying to make the sleepover thing look like 'it's not a big deal' despite how big of a deal it obviously is to her... to which I say, good for you, girl, but I wouldn't know. The only sleepovers I've ever had have been with my little cousin who is 9 years younger than me and also insists on sleeping with a very bright nightlight on, which means I can't sleep at all. So yeah, I wouldn't know. But I'm happy that Gina is feeling included.

So this is the exact moment when it becomes clear that Big Red is not telling us the complete truth when it comes to his HSM knowledge... '14 and 10'? Even I didn't know that. I knew 14, but... for someone who allegedly 'hates musicals', my boy has very detailed knowledge of one certain musical movie... I love how it got him a certain girl's attention, though. Not that she wasn't already paying attention to him, if you catch my drift.

Ok, but this hits even harder now than it did the first time — just when Gina has finally managed to make friends, to feel included in their group, her mum has to move her away again. This is straight-up tragic. I'll say it now, and I'll probably say it again when it comes up in the rewatch — Ashlyn is an absolute queen for taking Gina in for the next semester.

'That's sort of what you always do, huh? Take care of everyone else' — yeah, Ash, and you do the same. You two just need someone to do for you what you do for other people. See, guys, this is what I mean. This is why they're soulmates. Because in a world that has more or less forced both of them to put others first, they put each other first. They each get to be the most important person to each other after they've been stepping back for others all the time. And if that isn't beautiful, I don't know what is. I know I'm repeating myself over and over saying this, but... they own my heart and soul and I'm not for sale.

Ok, but Ashlyn's little run after Big Red left was so cute! Girl is... I don't know why I keep using that word, but... falling.

Unpopular opinion: Out of the Old is the best Nini solo to come out of this series to date. Maybe I feel that way just because I relate to it most, but hey, that is a valid reason to like something.

Oof, EJ's losing followers. Oh well, if they're unfollowing him for being too honest, they didn't like the real him to begin with. So good riddance to them.

Yikes... Jennzara fell asleep with flammable stuff left unattended... we all know how that ended, but just the fact that they felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in each other's presence... speaks volumes. So I guess... well, I don't know what exactly I'm saying regarding the fire they caused, but I loved this big little moment they had.

So this is it. That was 1x6 and 7 and, well, they were beautiful, but there are some parts I can't look at in the same way anymore after 2x11. Guess that's the risk of a rewatch. The Redlyn scenes, though — still the best part of both of these episodes. That and a couple of other things for which I don't need to pretend like I haven't seen season 2.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #ricky bowen #nini salazar-roberts #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew-smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #redlyn #jnk

[gobletofweasleys]

Scars

Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever injury your soulmate has appears on your skin as well. You have a lightning bolt shaped scar on your forehead.

Pairing: Harry Potter x Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 1,654

Requested by @fluffymadamina: Hello 😊 can i ask a Harry fic with soulmate Au? Like they share the same injuries so she have the same scar as him but not a lot of people know it? And if isn't much could she be an Hufflepuff

Main Masterlist

There was a reason your hair was cut into bangs. And there was a reason you refuse to let those bangs grow out. 

Your friends had told you numerous times that it would be nice to change your hairstyle. You'd had bangs since the moment you came to Hogwarts. Now it was your fifth year and they hadn't changed one bit.

"I think it would be nice to have a little change, don't you?" Your friend, Hannah Abbott, said that morning as you two got ready in your dormitory. You just hummed, thoughts on your timetable for the day and not even focused on what Hannah was saying. You waited for her to finish getting ready, watching her pin her yellow Prefect badge to her robes before gesturing at you. You both left for the Great Hall together. 

You would have had no problem in following Hannah's suggestion about letting your bangs grow out and pushing them off your forehead if the bangs weren't crucial in hiding something that might change the way everyone looked at you. They were crucial to hiding a scar shaped curiously like a lightning bolt, smack in the middle of your forehead, resembling an infamous scar that was present on the forehead of The Boy Who Lived.

You knew who Harry Potter was. You'd first read about him in Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century. When you and your Muggle parents had found out that you were to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you had bought every single book you could about the Wizarding World, wanting to find out as much as you could about the people you belonged with. That's when you had read about Harry Potter, had realized with a shock that he was your soulmate. You had a famous soulmate. Unsure of how correct your assumption was despite the scar on your forehead, you had resorted to hiding it under a curtain of hair until you knew for sure. 

Of course, you knew as soon as you saw him.

His scar was identical to yours, hidden poorly under a fringe of black hair. Large, round glasses framed brilliant green eyes, robes lined with maroon. You had watched him get sorted into Gryffindor that very first day. And since then, it seemed like all you ever did was watch him. 

You watched him become the youngest Seeker in history, watched him win his first match of Quidditch. You watched him make great friends and quickly become popular throughout the first three years. You also watched terrible things unfold. You watched him get forced into the Triwizard Tournament, watched him nearly die in the first two tasks. Watched him appear in the Quidditch field in hysterics after the third task, clutching a dead body. 

You didn't know why you never told him. You guessed you were just afraid. 

Harry Potter had gone through more than most adult Wizards in the country, he had seen and suffered more than anyone you knew or had heard of. And he still had so much on his plate, considering how hard the Ministry was trying to cover up the fact that You-Know-Who was back. You didn't know how important it was to spring the whole soulmate thing on him right now. Truth be told, you hadn't found one suitable moment in the four years you'd been here. 

You had Herbology today, which was your favorite class to attend for one reason only: you had Herbology with the Gryffindors. Your heart raced just at the prospect of seeing Harry again. You hadn't seen him all summer, of course, and with how the previous summer had ended, you were anxious to see how he was. 

If only you weren't such a wimp. If only you could just go and tell him how important he was to you. No wonder you weren't in Gryffindor. You didn't have an ounce of bravery in you. 

Your heart nearly jumped into your throat at the sight of him, conversing with Ernie MacMillan just outside the greenhouse doors. Ernie seemed to be standing tall, a look of strange determination on his face. When you drew near enough, you realized he was reassuring Harry that he believed him. 

"Lots of us do." He was saying, eye catching movement in his peripheral vision and head turning to look at you. "Like Y/N, for example." He gestured to you, making Harry turn to look at who he was pointing at. 

Your cheeks burned so hot you thought you would freeze on the spot, yet your jelly like legs still managed to walk until you had stopped next to Ernie. You had never, not once in your four years at Hogwarts, talked to Harry before. You had accepted admiring him from afar. You doubted that he knew who you were. 

"Don't you, Y/N?" Ernie repeated, yet your tongue wouldn't move. You were staring at Harry wide-eyed, willing yourself to say something, anything, maybe even just nod your head, but his eyes were making you weak and his hair, eternally messed up but perfect in your eyes, make your breath halt in your chest. 

You regretted your silence though, when Harry's red headed friend, Ron Weasley, stepped forward, glared at you and then nudged Harry to move into the greenhouse. 

"Let's go Harry." He was saying. "It doesn't matter what they believe. C'mon."

You realized almost immediately that he had taken your silence the wrong way. The implication left you horror struck. Ernie turned to you with a bewildered look. 

"What was that all about?" He asked. "You're always going off about how you believe him in the common room. Why didn't you say anything?" 

Your heart was hammering. Fear sprung in your chest. Oh Merlin, what did Harry think of you now? 

"I-" You were interrupted by Professor Sprout, who ushered the rest of you inside and shut the door behind you. 

You couldn't concentrate for one minute in class, even though today's lesson was about Bowtruckles. You had read about the tiny little creatures, and had been looking forward to seeing them, but all you felt was the guilt and fear of not saying anything to Harry. You had been so starstruck at the very sight of him that you'd made him believe you thought he was a liar too. 

You couldn't bear it. 

Maybe that's why you followed him after Herbology ended and everyone made their way to the Great Hall for lunch hour. Your heart was hammering, but your resolution to straighten things out overtook your crazy feelings.

"Um, Harry!" You called. 

Him and his two friends turned around at the call, making your face burn hot all over again. Ron was still glaring at you. Hermione just looked curious. 

"May I have a word?" Your voice was trembling slightly. "In private?" You did your best to avoid Ron's heated gaze. 

Harry seemed taken aback but nodded nonetheless. He said something quietly to his friends, causing them to leave for the castle. He turned back to you expectantly. 

"Um," your mind was already starting to blank, but you look resolutely away from his face and plowed on. "I wanted to apologize about before. I didn't- I didn't want to be silent. Of course I believe you. I just-" 

"It's okay." He cut you off. There was a certain rigidity in his voice, as if he didn't believe you. "You don't have to backtrack on what you think. I don't blame you for not believing. It's not like everyone else does."

"N-no!" You yelped, looking at him. "That's not it at all! I believe you, I do-" 

"Don't worry about it." He waved a hand in dismissal, taking a few steps backward. "I'll uh, I'll see you around."

But tears were filling your eyes, and you lunged forward, grabbing his arm before he could leave. His head snapped back to look at you, mouth opening and frown forming, but whatever sharp words he was going to say died out when you pushed your bangs back with your free hand. 

His eyes widened, face paling at the sight of the scar on your forehead. Exactly identical to his own. It took him a few seconds to comprehend what it meant and why you had it, but by the time his eyes met yours again, they held a new light. You gingerly let go of his arm, letting your hair fall back in place. 

"I was caught off guard." You mumbled. "I didn't know- this was the first time we were meeting. And- and you made me... nervous."

Your face was so hot and your body so numb you could barely feel a thing. Harry still hadn't moved, hadn't said a word. You stared down at your feet. 

"You never told me." He finally whispered. 

You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed. "There was…. it never felt like the right time."

You looked up to see him still looking at you, but his gaze was softer, his posture not as rigid. 

"Would you like to go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me?" He blurted out, looking surprised by himself. 

You stared at him in shock, heart beating so erratically you wondered how it hadn't stopped yet. 

"I'd love that." You shakily answered, feeling that sweet, giddy feeling spread in your chest.

Harry nodded, a ghost of a smile twitching at his lips before gesturing jerkily at you. 

"We should- uh, lunch."

You could see the pink dusting his cheeks, making a smile break over your own face as you fell in step with him, walking back to the Great Hall. 

................

Permanent Tags:

@fluffymadamina /  @sophiaxtorres​ / @jedi-in-hogwarts / @allknowingnerd / @accio-rogers / @gruffle1 / @chuumimi /

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter one shot #harry potter fluff #harry potter soulmate au #harry potter fic #harry potter au #harry potter angst #hp ootp #order of the phoenix #hufflepuff!reader #daniel radcliffe