#i like Barely don’t go there for both but i’m too unbothered to filter anything :P

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (7)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 4.8k warnings: ✨kissin✨ 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“I can't believe this happened,” Natasha groaned, sinking further into her couch cushions as if it could swallow her whole. She held a bottle of cheap vodka in her right hand, her left digging through a bag of sour cream and onion chips. Her red hair was untamed for the first time since you’d known her with strands sticking out at the sides and pieces falling out of her braid. She took another swig from the bottle.  

“Maybe it’s not that bad?” you offered, though the slight alteration of your pitch gave way to your doubt.  

Natasha had been hired through her new security firm to work the art rooms at MOMA. You’d walked her through the hiring process and sat through hours' worth of practice interviews and resume building and anxiously bouncing your knee as you both huddled around the library computer and waited for the email to come through confirming her hire.  

She’d worked so hard for this job. She’d held it for almost six months without incident.  

Nat deadpanned as she wiped the excess droplet of vodka from her lips with the wrist of her sweatshirt. “I tackled a civilian, Y/n.”

“You said he was acting suspicious! Isn’t that enough of a defense?” you tried, betrayed again by your tone. You winced.  

“He was staring at me with those beady little eyes of his,” Nat grumbled, shoving a few more chips in her mouth, continuing before she had a chance to swallow. “He kept looking over his shoulder toward me like he was checking the surveillance of the exhibit, like he might be staging a robbery in his head or coming up with methods to blow it all to shit.”  

She huffed the hair from her eyes, only for it to fall down exactly back into place at the center of her forehead. “Turns out the only plotting he was doing was to get my phone number. Didn’t know that, of course, until I’d had him pinned to the ground and his hands behind his back.”

You sighed. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for veterans like Natasha to struggle in maintaining steady employment. Adjusting to civilian life never came easy. It was why so many soldiers chose to reenlist again and again. Even after years of PTSD and the fractured relationships their distance left behind, they boarded that plane. You’d witnessed it firsthand.  

“They fired me,” Nat admitted, sinking further into the couch.  

She was one at the VA the others feared. With her strong features and deep voice, intimidating glare and the aura of a woman twice her size, no one took to her be anything but the stone-cold persona she amplified. You were one of the few she let her guard down around long enough to see the fragile, loving person underneath.  

“I’m sorry, Nat,” you told her. You reached for her hand, squeezing it in your own.  

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Move on to the next one, right?”

You nodded. Keep moving forward. It was the most she could do.  

“But enough about me,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “What’s going on with you and the broody amputee?”  

“Nat!” You swatted her hard on the arm.

She was unbothered, shoving another handful of chips into her mouth. “Don’t pretend like it's not completely obvious how much the two of you are into each other. Every time I look up to take a sip of coffee at book club, one of you is making heart eyes at the other. Spill.”

You didn’t know where to begin. It felt like you’d known Bucky your whole life. But you started with the moment Sam introduced you at the VA. You told her about the moments at the library and how eagerly he read through every book you placed in his hand. You told her about the coffee trips to Luciana’s and the extra time he spent helping you set up for book club and cleaning up when it ended. You told her about the walks in the park and surprise visits at the library. 

There were a few moments you left out, like Bucky’s panic attack on the crowded streets and the flashback episode the fireworks created, but you told her about the good parts. The holding hands. The comfort you felt when he walked into the room. The kiss you’d shared just a few hours earlier.  

“Shit, we’re talking about James Barnes, right?” Natasha laughed as you told her he’d been the one to press forward to kiss you first. “Sam used to talk about him all the time before he started showing his face around the VA. I’d gotten the impression that he was barely keeping it together after what happened over there, like he was a ghost or something. Sounds like he’s got some game back though.”  

You nodded, a laugh on your lips though it felt a little drained. You thought of the picture on Sam’s desk and the vibrance in Bucky’s smile with his arms thrown over the shoulders of his closest friends. You thought of the version of the man Natasha described, the same one Sam referenced in the library the day before when he thanked you for helping Bucky find himself again.  

Curiosity crept it. It was more than that, though. You wanted to understand how a man so full of life and charm and energy could be wiped clean so quickly. You wanted to know, not for your own selfish indulgences, but so you could better understand the man you were falling for. A man who lost himself for so long and was only now starting to pick up the pieces again.  

“Do you know what happened to him?” you asked, a bitter taste of shame lingering in your mouth.

“I don’t.” Natasha shook her head and you sighed, nodding. You resigned to let the inquiry go entirely – it wasn’t something you’d ever ask Bucky about directly, but then Natasha cleared her throat. “I do know he came home with a Bronze Star, though. Sam said he won't even look at it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “A what?”

“A Bronze Star. It’s awarded for exceptional bravery in combat,” Natasha explained. “My guess is it’s got something to do with how he lost his arm.”

You suspected as much. He carried himself with such distain, as if he couldn’t stand the body he was in. You’d felt the sharp cringe in his back whenever your hand drew too close to his left side, how he’d often stare at you in disbelief whenever you so willingly reached out to touch him. He’d never once removed his jacket in front of you and sometimes you wondered if he made careful avoidance of the mirrors in his own home, too.  

***

The first time you saw Bucky again, you’d kissed him on the sidewalk. Rushed up to him as you skipped steps descending outside the doors of the Brooklyn Library, hands pressed firmly to the sides of his face, and just... kissed him.

It startled him at first, enough for his arm to hold out at his side, frozen, for just a second too long before it settled on your spine. Your fingers gently traced along the stubble on his cheeks, smiling bright against his lips, and he’d kissed you back as tourists and locals filtered through the busy walkway as if they were little more than a blur around you.  

It became routine, it seemed, for Bucky to be waiting at the steps of the library for you. He didn’t shy away when you raced towards him, didn’t flinch when you reached for his hand, didn’t hold his breath so tight he could hardly focus.  

Instead, he was full of laughter. He made jokes that would put Sam’s cheesy one-liners to shame. He walked with you on empty residential side streets even when his anxiety had started to ease only so could take his time with you, dragging his feet along the pavement to stay by your side as long as possible. It was what he told you, anyway, and your heart just about leapt from your chest. 

You began to see glimpses of the man in the framed picture upon Sam’s desk. Outgoing. Flirtatious. Charming.  

Sam noticed the difference almost instantly. The way his eyes flickered over to the two of you, narrowed upon the absence of space between you both as you leaned against Bucky on the couch, books nestled in your hands. Sam had been standing in the doorway to book club, peering in through the window, when you noticed him staring. His smile grew wide upon his face, a very unsubtle and enthusiastic thumbs-up followed, and you waved him off before Bucky noticed he was there.  

No one in book club asked questions when after another meeting, you’d taken to resting your head on Bucky’s lap as you read, his own book settling on your shoulder. Tony peered over the top of his binding a few times with a curious stare the time Bucky had finished his book early and spend the remainder of the time reading yours over your shoulder, his finger drawing patterns on the top of your thigh, a kiss pressed to your shoulder here and there. Natasha smirked from her seat on the floor.  

It happened so quickly, how easily you’d fallen for him.  

Always in the smallest moments, in the sweetness of his smile, in the way he glanced over at you every so often as if he were checking to make sure you were still there. He opened up pieces of himself to you, set them gently into your hands and waited to see whether you’d keep them safe or throw them to the fire. It was agonizing for him – the vulnerability of trust – but you’d hoped that by protecting the pieces he showed you, he’d feel safe enough to give you more. You wanted it all. You wanted all of him.  

Sam insisted he’d never seen Bucky smile as much as he has been since he met you, including in the time before the war. It surprised you at first, until you remembered the photo on Sam’s desk. It was the same smile Bucky flashed you just moments before when he swiped a bite from your donut while you were talking to Tony. Teasing. Lighthearted. The weight of mere feathers on his back.  

“Y/n? You alright?”

Bucky’s voice drew your attention away from the tourists wandering around the park, taking photographs of the ducks at the edge of the pond and the old oak trees with leaves of fallen red and orange at their roots, the open branches giving way to a view of the Manhattan skyline.  

You blinked a few times, turning to Bucky as he sat on your left, his brows furrowed in concern. You must have been quiet for too long, which was unusual for you, so you pushed out a smile for him, a slight squeeze in his hand.  

“Just thinking,” you told him.

“What about?”

You pulled his hand into your lap, tracing over the lines in his palm absentmindedly. A distant pulse of his heartbeat could be felt in the tips of his fingers.  

“You.”  

He smiled at that, the corners of his mouth curving high up into his cheeks. A twinge of pink rested on the tips of his ears. He chuckled in an effort to hide his nervousness, though it lingered into his voice. “Me? I’m sitting right here.”

“What? I can’t think about you?” you teased, bringing his hand up to your lips as you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. He watched you with the kind of awe that left him speechless for a moment. It was your favorite look on him; how his lips parted ever so slightly, the blue of his eyes shading into something softer, the muscles in his face slacking.  

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I guess that’s okay.”

“Good,” you smirked, setting in against his side. You rested your head on his shoulder, playing with his hand in your lap as you watched two little boys chasing the ducks around the pond, flapping their arms and trying to encourage the ducks to fly.  

You’d been sitting on the old, wooden bench under the tallest oak tree for nearly two hours when you glanced up to find a series of dark clouds rolling in and obstructing the cast of red and oranges filtering along the horizon. They hung heavy and ominous as a shadow lingered over the park.  

“Hey Bucky?” you started, sitting up straight as you gestured to the clouds. He had a sort of sleepy look in his eyes like he could have been content to sit there with you all night long. “We should probably get out of here before—”  

You felt the first raindrop on your cheek. Wiping it away, you looked up into the sky just in time as sheets of rain poured out from the clouds. You gasped, grabbing a firm hold of Bucky’s hand and yanking him up to his feet.  

“Come on!” you yelled over the rush of rain as it slammed onto the cobblestones in the park and shook the trees. Bursting into laughter, you threw the hood of your jacket up over your head in a half-ditched effort to stay dry. Bucky’s hand secure in your own, you took off running, only for his laughter to follow you as he chased you down the streets.

Rain drenched into your hair and ran in droplets down your spine, clothes soaked through to the bone by the time you realized where you were running. Luciana’s was just around the corner, calling to you like trumpets at the golden gates. Hot chocolate nestled between your palms, the warm hum of the radiator, nibbling on leftover pastries from the day. Truly, Heaven.  

By the time you reached Luciana’s, you’d nearly slammed into the door trying to get inside. The canopy was incredibly small, no bigger than space for a single person, but you reached out and gripped Bucky by the lapel of his jacket and tugged him beside you to pull him from the rain. You could feel the heat of his breath through his labored pants, the small puffs of warm air pressing out into the cold, and you laughed nervously at how close you were standing.  

“Her daughter has a dance recital tonight,” Bucky read from the sign posted on the inside of the door. “It’s closed.”

Sure enough, as you looked inside, the lights were out, chairs flipped upside down and resting on the tops of the tables. Rain poured against the windows, the mist of it still catching your spine and you pressed up closer to Bucky, nearly against his chest. You tried to control how fast your heart was beating, but you were almost certain he could feel it.  

“Okay, let me think,” you said, more so to yourself, as you looked out into the streets. They were empty, save for a few cars going about ten under the speed limit and a few teenagers sprinting by in backpacks and school uniforms. Your apartment wasn’t too far from here...

“Follow me!” you shouted over the rainfall, grabbing a hold of his hand.  

***

Bucky didn’t have much time to ask questions, because your hand was in his again and suddenly you were dragging him back out into the streets. You took him down the block, through a few back streets, and along a series of brownstones with fallen leaves littering the streets and the high arch of tree branches shading the sidewalk in small relief from the rain.

You skipped up a few stairs, shouldering open the door and pushed Bucky inside. He waiting in the small doorway as you dug through your bag for a pair of keys, wiping a line of rain from your forehead. You exhaled in relief as the door unlatched and you reached for Bucky’s hand again, guiding him inside.

One floor up and the first door on the left, you stepped inside of your apartment and quickly began rushing around to rid yourself of your jacket and the soaking wet shoes on your feet. Bucky stood planted on the doormat, the door closing slowly behind him.

Rain tapped against the outside windows, a dark cloud of grey hanging in the sky and casting a shadow into your living room. A single lamp illuminated the space in a soft yellow tone, touching over dozens of blankets hanging over the couch and bundled up in a basket on the floor, books piled high on the coffee table, newspapers with highlighter marks folded neatly on the kitchen table, and a few cardigans draped over the chairs.

“Can I make you coffee? Tea?” you asked from the kitchen as you wrung out your hair in the sink, shaking off the excess droplets from your hands. Bucky glanced down at the floor, realizing he was carrying water through the hardwoods in your apartment. He winced, quickly making his way back to the doormat.

“I’m alright, thanks,” he said, keeping himself as small as he could on the mat.

“Take your shoes off,” you instructed, pointing to the series of boots lined up by the door. “I’ll go find you some dry clothes.”

With that, you disappeared into your bedroom.  

Bucky stepped out of his shoes, wandering further inside. He’d been too out of it the last time he was inside your apartment, too unfocused with one foot across the ocean to really look around.  

He found himself drawn to the hallway leading up to your bedroom, with pictures hanging along the wall in old, wooden frames. Some from what looked to be your childhood, with softer features upon your face and dressed in overalls and bright pink sneakers. Then, a few from high school with your arms hung around the shoulders of your friends, mid-laugh. But there was one in particular that caught his attention. 

At the very end of the line, hung a photograph of you standing in front of a couple who looked to be your parents. You seemed to be a few years younger, judging by the cut of your hair and the softness in your features. On your left was a man dressed in an air force uniform, hands clasped behind his back. You were standing on an airbase, smiling, but your eyes were red, reflective. Like you’d been saying goodbye and were desperately pretending otherwise.

“This was all I could find,” you said, emerging back from the bedroom with t-shirt and sweatpants in hand. They were too large for you, men’s sizes, and Bucky felt his heart clench as he saw the faded air force logo on top corner of the shirt. He wondered if it belonged to the man in the photo.

“Thank you,” he nodded as you placed them on the counter.  

You were wringing out your hair with a towel when he realized you’d changed, too. The dampness on your skin clung to the fresh cotton of your t-shirt, pulling it tight against your chest. He exhaled a tense breath.  

"God, look at you,” you laughed, a hand reaching up to touch the tips of his hair as they dripped excess water down onto his shoulders. You pushed it to rest behind his ear, brushing the lingering rain from his cheeks. “It’s unfair, you know?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, confused. “What is?”

“That you look this handsome soaking wet.”

His instinct was to laugh, but the way you were looking at him made his breaths a little shallow, his stomach twisting into knots. You weren’t teasing as you said it, no lingering joke in its wake. He swallowed.  

“I... uh... what? No.” He tried to brush it off, but your hands had slid along his waist behind the hem of his jacket and it stopped him dead in his tracks.  

He held his breath as you flattened your palms against his stomach, running your fingers over what once had been hardened muscle before he let himself fall into darkness that took over his life for months. Now, his body favored something softer. You didn’t seem to mind though as you bit down on the fullest part of your lip, hands sliding around to his spine.  

“Let me take this off? Please?” you asked, voice low, with the kind of inflections laced within your tone that made Bucky shift uncomfortably in his stance. Your hands slipped up along his chest, lingering by his shoulders and you gripped onto the lapel. It was soaking wet.  

“You must be freezing,” you tried again, a little lighter this time, offering him a sweet smile. You must have noticed his apprehension because you softened a bit, letting your hands rest against his cheeks as you drew his attention to you. “It’s alright, Bucky. It’s just me.”

He searched your eyes as you gazed up at him and though he tried, he found no reason to turn you away. His heart was pounding in his chest, his right hand shaking a bit, but then, you leaned forward and captured his lips against your own, and suddenly, he was at ease again.

You kissed him and his right hand found its way to rest against your lower back, pressed flat against your spine; it clenched into the fabric, seeking more, and his fingertips brushed over a sliver of bare skin. He felt your hands slid down along his neck, to his collar, until they slipped under the fabric of his jacket against, resting on his shoulders. You were waiting for his permission.  

Then, as you pulled away from his lips for only a second, he nodded. Your lips returned to his almost instantly, and he wondered if maybe you were trying to distract him, or help to ease him as the fabric draped down off his shoulders. His heart was thunderous in his chest, louder than the press of rainfall against the windows outside, but there was a sense of calm in it, a nervousness certainly, but a comfort, too.  

He felt the weight of the jacket lift from his shoulders as you set it to hang over the chair. He felt instantly lighter, like you’d removed an anvil from his back, and he suspected it had less to do with the rain-soaked fabric than he cared to admit. He kept his eyes closed as your hands roamed along his shoulders, focusing on the feel of your lips as they traveled from the corner of his mouth along his jaw line.  

“Bucky?” you called so sweetly it nearly made his knees buckle.  

“Mmm?” He felt a little dizzy, high on the touch of your lips to his skin.  

He heard the soft ruffle of fabric as you grabbed the clean clothes you brought for him on the counter. Then, your hand slipped into his and he let his eyes flutter open. You were watching him with more affection than he was prepared for. His heart lurched forward, aching to jump right into your arms.

“Come this way.”  

He nodded, trailing behind you as you led him into your bedroom. The lighting was dim, barely casting in a soft orange glow from the lamp at your bedside. The clouds were still dark and heavy as they hung outside the windows, the rain obstructing the view of the brownstones across the street.  

“Here,” you set the clothes on the bed. “Get changed alright? I don’t want you catching a cold.”

You smiled for him and his heart just about burst. Then, you disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.  

Bucky stepped forward, running his hand over the Air Force logo in the top corner of the t-shirt. He picked up the shirt, and held it against his nose. It smelled like you, like maybe you’d been wearing it for years now, but there was a name written in sharpie on the inside tag. It was barely legible, but it didn’t look like your own. He tried not to think about who gave you this shirt and who wore it before him, and he quickly removed the damp one soaked to his skin in favor of the one you’d given him.  

He changed his pants, too, and a wash of relief came over his body as the chill faded from his skin. The clothes were warm, soft, and he raked his fingers through his hair, thankful it had dried enough to stop from dripping down onto the fabric.

“Hey,” you called, emerging from the bathroom. Your eyes paused on him for a moment, taking him in with the fresh clothes on and something unrecognizable flashed over your features – something that resembled sadness. You shook it off quickly, pushing out a smile as you walked toward him. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Thank you.”

You leaned up to kiss him again and he swore everything around him came to a sudden stop. You tugged him down onto the bed, sliding in behind him as you threw the covers over you. Bucky kept his back pressed to the mattress as you climbed over his waist, settling with just enough of your weight compressing against him that he found a relief in it.  

His right hand slipped along your waist line, sliding flat over bare skin, warm to the touch. You smiled against his lips and he found himself laughing as you peppered kisses along his cheekbones, his nose, his hairline, down along his jaw, and then finally – back to his lips again.

So lost in you, in the moment, he felt his left hand slid along the underside of your shirt, fabric brushing over the top of his hand as he touched over your ribs and inching closer to your chest. He stifled a moan as he cupped at your breast, swiping his thumb along the pebbled nipple. It wasn’t until he felt an echo of a muscle spasm at his left shoulder that he realized he wasn’t feeling anything at all.  

His eyes snapped open and he found his right hand at the base of your spine, your shirt untouched. Reluctantly he glanced down at his left side; the open sleeve of the t-shirt leaving no pretenses in its wake. He was empty there. A piece of him missing. He tried to swallow back the frustrated groan before it passed through his lips, but you heard it. You felt it, too.

“Bucky?” you questioned, concern littering your eyes as you pulled away. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, of course not,” he replied quickly, brushing his hand along the side of your face until it drew a smile back to your lips. The way you were watching him, like maybe he could entrust you with the darkest parts of himself, if only for glimpse, and it pushed him to say more. “I just... I hate that I can’t hold you the way I want. There’s more that I would—” He groaned, head sinking back into the pillows. “I’m not used to... I don’t— I don’t know how to with only one... um...I haven’t— Not since before—”  

He bit down on the inside of his cheek, his ears flushing red. You seemed to understand what he was saying as you nodded ever so slightly; the fact that he’d barely learned how to manage his life again with only one arm – everything from washing his hair to getting dressed in the morning, to chopping vegetables and reading a book. He hadn’t even attempted to consider what it was like to be with a woman like this; to want to hold her and please her and touch as much of her as he could. It never crossed his mind before you.  

“I’m in no rush,” you said simply, like maybe you were implying you’d wait around long enough for him to figure it out. Or maybe, you’d be willing to help him learn again. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s late. You’ll stay tonight, won’t you? I don’t want you out in that storm.”

Bucky nodded, feeling a little dizzy as he stared up at you. Backlit from the soft glow of the lamp illuminating around you like a halo, Bucky would have said yes to just about anything you could have asked of him. Relief pressed over your features and you sank down onto the bed beside him, curling up against his right side.  

Your arm draped across his waist as his circled around your shoulders, fingertips drawing patterns along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then, you reached over him to turn off the lamp and a comfortable darkness blanketed the room, the only break from the silence the gentle tap of the rain against the windowpane.  

For the first night in months, he welcomed the kind embrace of a dreamless sleep.  

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you

[rvmmm21]

. you know who i am? .

k, so i didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand. also, my first time writing in present tense? idk how to feel about it, but i guess it’s different. it felt so different writing for like actual humans lol. my first ‘normal’ fic, this is!

please for the sake of this making sense can we all pretend jennie, joy and irene are around the same age? also look who had fun with brand names. moi.

anyways this is [badgirl/bully!joohyun ‘persuading’ clumsy freshman!seungwan to be her assignment buddy] 

...

University culture is grating.

It’s overwhelming and it suffocates her. She has no time to prepare herself for the apparent runway the halls have become, what with the stupid-rich kids treating every day like it’s a fashion show; Seungwan can barely blink from one person to the next without being smacked across the face with fur coats from Chanel, Louis Vuitton sunglasses hidden under Prada nylon bucket hats and Off-White tracksuits tucked into Balenciaga socks. She hadn’t considered a future in law enforcement, but had she done so, anyone who tucked their trousers into their socks mid-calf would find themselves behind bars with the rest of the criminal scum. End of.

Just as she dusts her hands of that smug little sentiment, Seungwan finds herself with a face full of hair, and an even bigger nose full of what smells like laundry detergent. She lets out an embarrassing squeal, and the girl turns round to face her. A ghost of a scowl brushes across her face before she fixes her with an indiscernible gaze.

That scowl is an awful colour on a face as pretty as yours, she impulsively thinks.

Seungwan knows no more about the history of art and the intricacies of sculpture than the average Joe, but she’s sure Michelangelo missed the mark with David. She inwardly laughs at the thought of the man dedicating his entire being to crafting his flimsy idea of ‘perfection’ when she’d just bumped into it; the real thing. Of course, if that was defined by forming new constellations from faded freckles on flawless skin, or vantablack tresses framing sharp features like a painting, then yes; she was, by very definition, ‘the perfect (wo)man’. Easily outdoing anyone within a 50-metre radius.

Heck, make that 500.

The girl glares intimidation and Seungwan manages to save herself the humiliation of drooling in front of the white-hot beauty and her friends with a quick gulp, already feeling crimson seeping into her cheeks.

Perfect; now that she’s watched whatever new potential friendship this was blow up in her face, all she has to do is avoid her at all costs from here on out.

She mouths a haphazard apology and zooms past before anything can come of it, keeping her head down even after she’s well out of sight. Seulgi, Seulgi, Seulgi, save me, she brisk walks and begs all the way to class.

~~~~~~~~~~

A small commotion rings through the lecture hall of keyboard clicks and lethargic shuffles, calling to attention the girl who’s just spilt her drink down her front, now frantically digging around in her backpack for anything she can use to soak it up. A few jeering giggles are stifled, meanwhile students close by donate tissues and sympathetic looks. They are gratefully accepted with rapid-fire bows and machine-gun stuttered apologies.

“That freshman’s just ruined her rep, huh?” Jennie chuckles, “blindly walking into people… can’t even keep liquid in the cup. Give her a dog collar and a sign and she’s good to go.”

“Eh, I thought it was cute.”

Jennie’s retort comes quick.

“Sooyoung, you think anything in a skirt is cute.”

“What,” the girl says, ignoring the implication, “Haetnimie doesn’t wear skirts. And she’s not even wearing one right now. Plus, I didn’t say ‘she’s cute’, I said ‘it’s cute’. Learn the difference, idiot… it’s not like I wanna have at her or anything…”

Jennie shoots her an incredulous look and Sooyoung relents the banter. They both turn their attention to the girl sitting next to them, completely un-present in the moment. Sooyoung notices who she’s looking at and leans in to nudge her.

“Joohyun,” she whispers, poking her in the ribs when it’s obvious their friend is well on her way to signing a contract with NASA with how apparently well accustomed to space she is, “what do you think of her? Or are you still mad she walked into you?”

“Nah, forget it,” Jennie waves her off before she’s even had a chance to respond, “she’s not interested. I had to literally pay her money to go on a stupid double date with me in high school. I washed five cars for her to not even hold his hand once during the movie.”

Instead of participating, Joohyun sighs, casting the girl in question a seemingly uninterested stare. Unbothered eyes take in the sight she’s presented with: frustrated brows knitted together under a wispy caramel fringe and a blot of taro milk tea the size of Canada staining her baby blue jumper.

“I want her.”

The words are so simple her friends almost miss them entirely.

Sooyoung and Jennie battle for first place in an impromptu competition of ‘who’s-the-most-shocked’.

“You’re joking! Yah, you’re so annoying seriously, now?! You couldn’t have ‘wanted’ Min-seok in year nine?! I paid good, hard cash for that stupid boy!”

Joohyun looks at her, smug as a cat.

“I did it for you, Jennie. I didn’t even remember his name was Min-ho.”

“Min-seok.”

“Yeah, right.”

Sooyoung, wide-eyed and on the verge of passing out, grabs Joohyun by the shoulders, ignoring the glare she receives for it. “Joohyun, seriously? You’re serious. You want her like want her? Or want her like you wanted that cookbook after that trial week of Food Tech during summer break?”

Joohyun regards her, absolutely blasé. “I don’t follow recipes.”

“Exactly. Are you play-”

Sooyoung’s statement dies down with the rest of the class as the lecturer walks in. Furious clicking, hurricane scribbles and flipping pages are all that remain as the lesson kicks off, Jennie and Sooyoung casually scrolling through Instagram while the professor speaks. Joohyun leans forward, elbows on desk and chin resting on interlocked fingers. Her full attention is on the poor girl on the other side of the hall, intermittently peeling the cold, damp fabric away from her body, face flushed and avoiding all eye contact. Joohyun snickers at how uncomfortable it must be to have to sit through class in a wet jumper, how awkward and squeamish she looks.

Strawberry-tinted lips curl into the faintest smirk.

Hello cutie.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yah! Kang Seul-Gi!” Seungwan calls out to chocolate-swirly space buns and baggy gym clothes hurtling towards her from across campus grounds, “where the heck were you?!”

“Sorry sorry! Overslept!”

“What!? Your class starts at noon! … and this is like… day 1!”

The girl looks like she’s barely had the chance to screw her head on the right way as she joins Seungwan on the steps of the university entrance.

Seungwan’s sweating buckets; physically and metaphorically, both from the waves of humidity and her all-exclusive one-idiot circus show this morning in class. That little muck up makes it to the tippy top of the endless list of embarrassing things Seungwan has stored in her long-term memory.

“You okay?”

Seungwan palms rosy cheeks as she takes another mouthful of her rainbow sherbet cone.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.”

Seulgi chortles as her best friend recounts her ordeal, trying to subdue the sea of smart alec remarks bubbling under her skin.

“So that was great, too. And now I’m a laughing stock. A meme. They’re probably editing my stupid face as I speak…”

Seulgi reverts back to the first incident. Of course she would.

“Sooo… not like in the dramas then?”

Seungwan hangs her head, “not at all… she looked like she wanted to kill me.”

Seulgi lets out a snort before prodding her with more curious questions. The cogs in Seungwan’s brain churn and stutter as she tries to filter as many redundant adjectives as possible, only using ones she deems absolutely necessary to describe the most beautifully terrifying girl she’s ever seen.

Just then, as if Seungwan had meant to conjure hell itself, the three girls make an appearance from round the corner, chatting amongst themselves and taking Seungwan and Seulgi by surprise. The latter glances down where steely fingers are squeezing her wrist, as if that’d activate some magical cloak of invisibility. Seungwan’s as good as swallowed her tongue, shakily motioning to the girl in the middle of the black velvet storm with her eyes and a few nose twitches.

“H-her…” she stutters, finally getting her brain into gear after they leave, “… her.”

Innocent eyes double in size at the realisation.

“Wha-wait no, her?! You bumped into… her?! Her, Bae Joohyun leader of killer senior pack Bae Joohyun?”

Seungwan’s heart only thumps faster at the panic in Seulgi’s voice, but her words still mean nothing. The other girl swipes the dangling question marks off the top of her friend’s clueless head.

“Yo Wan-ah, you have to lay low. I mean why would you even – oh geez wow you really messed up. Can’t you look where you’re – I can’t even begin to – why would you – oh my gosh!”

Seulgi’s disjointed sentences allow enlightenment to trickle in and Seungwan slaps a hand over her forehead, mortified.

Oh god no. That’s the Bae Joohyun?

She’d heard the rumours. Many, rumours. Bae Joohyun who makes her juniors cry. Bae Joohyun; precious daughter of the most elusive mafia gang leader in all of Korea. Bae Joohyun; ice queen senior, sole roost-ruler of Hanyang University and the biggest bully you’ll ever meet.

Positively preposterous, empty claims with no evidence whatsoever to back them up… she hopes.

“Pft yeah okay she’s… mean, but she’s not like… jesus or anything she can’t… like… part the Red Sea or, turn water into vodka I don’t know,” Seungwan tries and fails at consoling herself, receiving nothing but an apologetic pat on the back from the girl beside her.

“Yeah well… she’s not the messiah but everyone treats her like it. And for the sake of your own neck, you’d better start too. Watch out, Wan-ah.”

Seungwan hadn’t paid any mind to those wet-eared freshmen whom she’d overheard during orientation gossiping about Joohyun and her charming little posse; but perhaps she should have.

She gulps, too afraid to think of anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan often fantasizes at work. There has to be some way to pass the time, after all.

Deep down she’s a sucker for romance, she knows it far too well; she envisions herself ten years down the line, letting whoever she has on the other end of the phone know that she’ll be home soon, that work has just been extra grueling today, and that she cannot wait to give them a cuddle. She’ll stir the dinner pot while she tells them stories, pausing in between to remind her lover how beautiful they are. Perhaps one day, the honour will be hers, to see her soulmate walking down the aisle.

But as the tinkling of the doorbell rings through her café, Seungwan files those cloudy fantasies for later and greets her first customers with a smile.

She hasn’t been sleeping very well, worrying her mind with ridiculous thoughts and impossible scenarios. All involving Joohyun as a tick-tocky alligator and herself as none other than Captain ‘I’m-actually-innocent-why-are-you-still-trying-to-eat-me’ Hook.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s five minutes to closing time. Seungwan suppresses the yawn in her chest and blinks away the moisture in her eyes. Just zero to sixty, five times in your head. You got this, Seungwan. Gosh, there’s no one in the café and hardly anyone outside. She briefly contemplates closing early.

“Small iced Americano.”

“Coming r – aii!! Ai…!”

Seungwan’s adrenaline spikes so high she could serve it ice cold in a coffee cup right now. Caught completely off guard, she begins stammering nonsense behind the till, crinkling the leather of her dark brown work apron and then using the hem of her polo shirt to wring clammy palms none the drier. All the while her customer stands there, brow quirked and card held out between slender fingers. Her expression, although slightly amused, threatens her to take her money, or else.

Before she can open her mouth, a buttery voice snaps her out of her trance.

“Hello, Seung – wan… hey, don’t we have Korean Literature together?”

Seungwan tries not to spontaneously combust on the job as she instinctively slaps a hand over her name tag. It’s useless though, it is now known. Known to her, of all people. The notorious Bae Joohyun; dressed in Acne jeans and an over-sized midnight Balenciaga cardigan, she looks like any other young, caffeine-dependent university student. But Seungwan knows a lot better.

Oh god save me… what the hell is she doing here!? This has to be a set up. She’s here for me. I’m going to die tonight. Mummy, daddy I love you.

“J-J-Juh…”

She can’t say it. All the years of schooling; learning the alphabet and how to enunciate your words drain out through the holes in her ears. She gawks dumbly, moving her head in what could be considered to be a nod.

“Ah, I thought I recognised you,” she doesn’t even bother trying to sound surprised, “I’m Joohyun.”

Don’t I know.

All Seungwan can do is nod again, hating herself for even breathing right now.

Joohyun clicks her tongue and fiddles with the card in her hand, impatient, “soooo… is this Americano free, or…?”

Yes, yes it’s free, please just take it and go! I’ll upgrade it to an extra-large if you want, on me! If it means I’m spared for the rest of my student life, take it all! Jesus, how did you even find me?!

“Ah, yes. Sorry! Uh, yes that’ll be um two fif – two… two thirty.”

There’s a shaky exchange of a debit card and a forgotten peace treaty iced Americano before Seungwan takes an unconscious shuffle back from the register, eyes glued to the smudge on the toe of her right sneaker, unable to meet Joohyun’s piercing gaze for too long.

“Thank you, Seungwan.”

The way she lingers on the ‘S’ whispers shivers down the girl’s spine. She glances up at the worst possible time, too, nearly jumping out of her mismatched Muji socks when she sees Joohyun’s hibiscus-tinted lips bloom into a coy smirk.

“I’ll see you around.”

And with what a shivering Seungwan could’ve sworn was a terrible attempt at a wink, Joohyun is gone. Clutching at her chest, she tries to slow her accelerated heartrate, praying she doesn’t need heart surgery after what she’s just been through.

Seulgi’s so hearing about this.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Daebak,” Sooyoung scoffs, side-eyeing Joohyun as she twiddles her pen.

“What else did you say?” Jennie presses, taking a sip of her chai latte.

Joohyun merely hums, disclosing no further details of her little cafe incident. She misses Jennie’s disbelieving grin when the walking, talking definition of awkward bumbles into the lecture hall, just on time, armful of texts and messy cinnamon locks matted to her face.

Sooyoung can’t resist a jest. “Joohyun, look. It’s idiocy on legs.”

Joohyun bites back a snort as her eyes follow the girl stumbling and murmuring apologies all the way to her seat. She slumps into the chair with burning cheeks, brushing her hair back with her fingers and fiddling with her gingerbread fringe. Too cute, Joohyun thinks, gritting her teeth.

It happens about mid-way in the class. The mention of pair work triggers the uniform eye-roll, groan and grumble combo, more so from the seniors, who sure as hell don’t want to be paired with icky, snot-nosed first-years who can barely lift their spoons to their mouths. The grumbling evaporates when it is stated that, although compulsory, it is not a fixed-paired assignment.

Seungwan breathes a sigh of relief along with a few others, content to set up camp in the aisles of the library, perfectly undisturbed. But she suddenly feels paler than chalk; flashbacks of heeled boots, midnight cardigans and heart surgery flooding into her veins once more when she catches a pair of stealthy pupils regarding her from across the room. A deceptively sweet smile sparkling on those dreaded lips, breath-taking and utterly petrifying all at once. Even from the other side of a bloody lecture theatre, Bae Joohyun has Seungwan sweating bullets and unconsciously fidgeting at her collar to release steam no one else can see.

About a minute away from hurling herself out the nearest window, Seungwan diverts her attention to her notebook at the last second. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan stabs her chopstick into the egg yolk, watching it dribble all over her rice. She’s jealous of her own best friend who doesn’t have to live every waking hour with a red sniper laser dot on her back.

Should’ve majored in art too, goddamnit, she curses, poking her lunch in a dazed stupor.

“Wan-ah!”

She scoffs at the familiarity, but Seulgi’s crescent moon grin makes Seungwan momentarily forget.

~~~~~~~~~~

The black cursive of Han Kang’s literature stares up at her as she tries to digest what she’s reading, but she swears her brain allocates the worst times for that sneaky Bae Joohyun to pop up like an unwanted advertisement. Seems like now, she’s going to have to sit through an entire trilogy.

Despite the crippling dread, Seungwan can’t help but wonder. They’re so silly, but she wonders them anyway. She feels free to let her mind wander in the safety of the university library.

Bae Joohyun; Seungwan’s mind is unchanged; she’s the most beautiful girl she’s laid eyes on. It’s a unique kind of beauty; mysteriously edgy, knife-like and femme fatale. The grin Joohyun gave her in class this morning, she knows she should be running from it, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it’s been playing in her head on repeat ever since.

Seungwan unintentionally imagines what it would be like to kiss that sunset-infused smirk right off her face.

Too bad she’s a mean one, she sighs.

She doesn’t get much further with the actual task at hand when her blood-pressure plummets; she watches leader of the killer senior pack, Bae Joohyun, artlessly sit down in the chair next to her. It’s like the world stops spinning for the second it takes their eyes to meet, and Seungwan quivers in her seat, thoughts of literature fleeing out the back of her brain.

Trying to be polite, she gives her a courteous nod and returns to her reading. But Joohyun just sits there, staring, peppering her body with smoking bullet holes – it frightens her in the weirdest way. She can’t help the tiny bubble of… excitement? At the fact that Hanyang’s notorious Bae Joohyun is sitting next to her. Probably to get close enough to kill her, of course, but she’d count her blessings, no matter how terrifying. The thread finally snaps, and Seungwan is able to channel her inner stone statue no more, wordlessly excusing herself and stumbling to the bathroom.

It’s empty and silent; exactly what she needs. She flicks some cool water over the burning in her cheeks and dabs at the heat welled in the corners of her eyes.

But just as she’s about to leave, Joohyun’s standing in the doorway; cloaked in all her intimidating aura and eclipsing her only exit.

“Bathroom break so soon?” Joohyun’s voice drips into her ears like melted honey as she observes a wry smile crawl onto her face, “we’ve barely gotten started. Let’s get back to work… partner.”

It’s kicking in only now what Joohyun is saying. And it takes everything Seungwan has to formulate a pathetic response.

“Oh right, a-about that,” she nervously chuckles, averting her gaze and scratching the back of her neck, “uh, I-I was just um… I don’t wanna drag anyone down with – you know because you’re a senior and all – was m-maybe thinking –”

She doesn’t get very far when Joohyun begins advancing, walking towards her with such sure, dominating strides Seungwan has no choice but to back away, the piercing squeaks of Adidas sneakers easily drowning out the clicking of Louboutin heeled boots. Joohyun sports that coy smirk the whole time she’s cornering poor Seungwan, further and further back, until…

A tiny yelp is torn from her as her back hits the wall. Seungwan strains up to meet her eyes, 5 inch boots are a very useful intimidation tool. Her heart feels about as fragile as sugar glass, and she thinks it would do her good to invest in those styrofoam packing peanuts and a roll of caution tape.  

Joohyun observes the little caramel-haired mouse girl she’s caught; pressed against the cool, beige tile, both hands out in front of her, quivering like a jello pile. She quickly notes the way the top of Seungwan’s head just about grazes the bottom of the wall-mounted paper towel dispenser, and it stretches her grin even further. She looks irresistible, those doe eyes the colour of warm cocoa. Who knew she had a thing for sweet faces, well-intentions and weak-hearts?

Realising her hands aren’t doing anything to keep the other girl at bay, Seungwan drops them like a tonne of bricks - she’s never felt so small and helpless in her life. The rich scent of vanilla and mint tickles her nose; Joohyun’s too close, and she really needs those fragile stickers to go over the thumping in her chest. But she also wants to nuzzle in closer to that intoxicating shampoo smell.

“P-please… I-I didn’t mean to…”

Her voice sounds so tiny and fragile, it tugs on Joohyun’s heartstrings.

“You know who I am?” she demands in somewhat of a growl, caging the smaller girl in with both arms pressed on either side of her head, causing her to gasp out, “you’ve heard?”

Seungwan shrinks a little more, petunias searing onto her milky cheeks at the proximity, but terror-stricken nonetheless. It’s burning, and it’s too much.

A small ‘mm’ and a teary nod is all she can offer.

Joohyun shoots her a challenging smirk, a kaleidoscope of obsidian pebbles flicker in her darkened eyes as she brings a single finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her so she’s forced to look up.

“And you still think you have a choice?”

Seungwan wishes she could rear up at the challenge, hammer some humility into that smug attitude in front of her; put Bae Joohyun in her place. But who is she to change the way the world works? Girls like Joohyun toy with what they want, and get what they toy with; the natural order of things Seungwan has no hope of re-routing. Her resolve, her dignity and everything she’s built up in her 20 years on earth crumbles at her feet; she doesn’t bother picking up the pieces.

With that, she looks up at the girl who still has her locked in with her eyes alone, and meekly shakes her head.

Seungwan can finally breathe when Joohyun detaches herself from the wall and runs both hands down the front of her blouse. She hears a chuckle and before she knows it, there’s an arm around her waist, moving them in tandem.

She doesn’t see the triumphant smile etched into Joohyun’s rosebud lips, like she’s swallowed a coat hanger. All she knows is that they’re now bound by this assignment, and that Joohyun is leaving with exactly what she came for.

Seungwan hides a shy grin of her own.

#wenrene #university au #bully irene #red velvet #i got carried away #seungwan the cafe worker #seungwan doesn't mind #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 37)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2

Part 38: here

.

Lewis POV

To Lewis, it feels like blinking. Arthur’s workshop breaks apart, splintering into pieces which disintergate around him. The body snatcher, still clutching his shirt, still grinning, dissolves, flaking away. Darkness swallows up the scene leaving only an impression of poisonous green imprinted into his mind.  

When he opens his eyes, it is too pale moonlight and cool blues, greys and browns. He is standing in a clearing of loose rock and packed dirt. Vivi is standing several feet away surveying a grove of bent-looking trees. The bright blue of her sweater and skirt stands out against the muted background. Relieved, he tries to call out a greeting and maybe ask if she is okay but finds the action hard, bordering on impossible. 

He can’t talk. He can’t move either. 

“Are you sure about this one. It says to keep out.” 

Arthur’s voice, loud if slightly muffled, sounds like it is being filtered through a closed door. Vivi turns and hits him with a wide smile. 

“So have half the other places we’ve visited,” she answers, drawing Lewis’s attention to the numinous ‘keep out’ signs hammed into the ground between them. Where are they? Is what he wants to say. 

“Yeah, and I remember getting chased through a forest by a bunch of machete-wielding, red-cloaked wackos,” he finds himself asking instead in a voice suspiciously close to Arthur’s.   

Vivi walks a little way into the trees, disappearing, and-without his impute- Lewis’s attention drifts to examine the entrance to the foreboding cave looming over him. It is far too dark to see into.  He can feel himself breathe and shuffle with apprehension, though Lewis has never been one to fidget. 

“Sometimes, there’s a good reason for the keep out signs.” 

“I’m sure that was a one-off.” 

Lewis’s view quickly shifts, moving, reacting to the comment. And… he finds himself looking into a very familiar face. His own face. Stunned, Lewis stares at the second Lewis who wears an expression of amusement and concern, mouth curled into a loose smile. It's like looking in an uncanny mirror. 

Oh.  His own hand, other-Lewis's hand, lands on his, Arthur's, shoulder, giving a reaffirming pat. 

This is a memory. He is reliving a memory from Arthur’s point of view. That’s why everything feels disconnected and fuzzy around the edges. When tries to concentrate on areas outside Arthur’s line of focus the scene blurs. 

This is what that body snatcher had promised him… a look into Arthur's memories. 

It feels like he's stuck in some sort of hyper-real, virtual reality without any input controls. His ability to hear is muffled, and his sense of touch is muted, almost non-existent, so there is a distinct disconnection between himself and the scene. Despite this distance, it feels invasive. He’s not sure what he ought to have expected upon agreeing to see Arthur’s memories, but this isn't it. Lewis tries to shake his sudden discomfort and guilt, focusing instead on the other-Lewis as he talks. 

 Memory-Lewis looks pretty relaxed despite the disconcerting environment, commenting “If this has you really worried we can always wait out here while Vivi takes her supernatural readings.”

“No." Arthur sighs, waving away the concern, "It’s fine. Probably best not to let Vivi go spelunking with only Mystery as back up.”

“Just stick behind me. I’m sure this will be just as boring as all the other caves we’ve walked through.” 

There is an air of familiarity to their words, like traversing creepy caves is an everyday occurrence. Confused, Lewis searches his recent memories but comes up with nothing resembling this exchange. 

The group of three, having finished their light banter, start into the cave with Vivi in the lead. They talk like they’ve been planning this trip for ages.   Only, no, that can’t be right because Lewis can’t remember ever visiting a place like this with Arthur and Vivi. The cave, now lit with the flickering firelight of the torch Vivi's uncovered, is distinct enough that he would surely remember it.

How was this one of Arthur's memories if Lewis doesn't remember taking part in it? Is it even real or is this another lie? 

Vivi and the other-memory-Lewis walk down the sloping stone tunnel with Arthur quick to position himself between the two of them, so Lewis has a good view of the back of Vivi’s head. Mystery appears at Vivi’s feet, sniffing around, all dog-like. Lewis vaguely remembers Mystery conversing with the body snatcher before turning into a giant fox and biting his arm.  Details of the confrontation are a little fuzzy, Lewis being too preoccupied with his worry for Arthur at the time. This Mystery is acting normal. Arthur barely spares the dog a glance with his vision glued into Vivi. Occasionally, Arthur’s attention wanders over to the cave's uneven walls, examining shadows which waver in the firelight. 

“Maybe there’ll be an actual ghost this time and not a dude playing dress-up?” The other-Lewis comments from behind him. 

 “One can only hope,” Vivi’s voice echoes about and Arthur shudders at her volume, peering into a particularly dark crack in the wall before adding in a half-whisper, “Ah. Objection. A dude in a sheet is plenty scary, thanks. No need for anything else.”

Thankfully, the other-Lewis seems to be picking up on how nervous Arthur is because he attempts to lighten the mood. “Like weird-scary or scary-scary?”

Arthur glances over his shoulder, retorting, “Both.” The interaction is friendly and familiar, no trace of stiffness.  It is easy to imagine that, had they decided to travel around and follow Vivi’s original plans to investigate supernatural locations, then this is what it would have been like. he ease of the interplay, lacking any form of tension, is one that Lewis misses. He wants it back.

The lighter mood doesn’t last long because Arthur spots something moving along the cave walls. An elongated shadow appears and is gone quicker than Arthur can blink. Lewis’s sense of nostalgic longing turns to apprehension and fear. So caught up in enjoying watching Arthur interact with other-memory-Lewis, he had forgotten what this was. A fake memory or illusion designed to mess with him. 

Barely noticeable is a sinister shadow of a recognisable green colour. Arthur doesn't notice it, attention drifting. Lewis begins to study each stone surface around the small group. That thing is here. In the walls. In the floor. Watching and waiting…

“Let’s split up,” Vivi’s announces when the group arrives at a split in the larger tunnel. 

 “What? No way!” Lewis hears Arthur object to which he mentally agrees. Splitting up is definitely a bad idea… Other-memory-Lewis doesn’t appear to share his mindset, unbothered by the location, nodding along with Vivi like an idiot. 

  “Splitting up is a terrible idea. When has splitting up ever worked well for anyone?” Arthur continues. 

 Yes. Listen to Arthur! Even if this is some twisted illusion, Lewis still doesn’t want to see any of them hurt.  

 “If we split up, we’ll cover more ground and get through the cave system faster.” Vivi points out. 

 They’re not listening. 

 “Just remember to take lots of photos. Here have my spare EMF meter.”

 He watches Vivi and other-Lewis pass equipment between them. Arthur groans aloud, rubbing his eyes in frustrated exasperation. His friend is nervous, but not nervous enough to insist on them all sticking together. Lewis watched silently, worry mounting. 

 “Lewis. You go with Arthur. He’ll need the moral support more than I will.”

 “Hey,” Arthur mutters a half-hearted protest. 

 “I’ll take Mystery down that tunnel. Let’s meet up in, say, an hour and report our findings.”

 Mystery. Vivi’s mention of her not-quite-a-dog has Lewis’s attention drifting around. Surely, the dog would stop them from splitting up. In all the chaos and in between getting stabbed, Lewis is sure Mystery had been on their side. Even if the result had been less than ideal. They should stick together with Mystery so the dog could protect them all from whatever danger was lurking in the walls.

 Alas, Mystery seems oblivious, following Vivi as she walks off towards one of the tunnels.  No. What he wouldn’t give to be able to interact and warn the trio. 

Vivi pauses, glancing back.  “Oh, and if it gets too maze-like come back here, so you don’t get lost,” A familiar playful note colours her voice as she takes a light jab at his poor sense of direction, “And don’t fall down any holes.” 

 “We’ll be fine,” Other-Lewis reassures, amused while  Lewis stews in his worry, annoyed at his counterparts carelessness. Idiot. He’s pulled from his worry by the odd experience of getting caught in a headlock when Arthur is too slow to avoid his other-Lewis.  Lewis knows he’s above average height, but it’s a very different experience seeing and feeling it from Arthur’s perspective.

 Vivi snorts, waving, “See you boys in an hour.” She disappears into the dark, the blue of her shirt fading. 

 “You okay there Arthur?” 

 Arthur glances up at the other-Lewis, batting away his arms. 

 “Yeah. Come on. Let’s go poke around a dark, damp, tunnel some more.”

  Lewis might have found the sarcastic comment amusing if he weren’t so busy freaking out, trying to work out which of them the body snatcher will target first. Silently, Lewis watches, wishing he could smack the other-Lewis over the head. Arthur is obviously nervous, this cave is creepy as hell, and he doesn’t appear to care. 

 The trip down the tunnel becomes an expedition of heightening tension. A rope being slowly pulled to its breaking point. Every time the other-Lewis stumbles on a bit of uneven rock has him holding his non-existent breath. The low flickering light does nothing for the ominous atmosphere, causing Arthur to stumble as well, bumping into Lewis several times. Doom presses down on then. It reminds Lewis of a horror movie, in which he is stuck waiting for something terrible to happen. 

 They come to the end of the tunnel without interruption. A narrow stone walkway juts out ahead, ending in a sharp drop. The light of the torch reflects off the mossy walls and spike-covered ceiling and Arthur eyes the pointy stone formations with apprehension.  This is dangerous, Lewis thinks as Arthur shivers. 

 Other-Lewis confidently walks out ahead, leaving his friend to follow at a more cautious pace. If it were up to him he would be grabbing Arthur and dragging him out of this creepy cave system post hast. Sure, this cavern is impressive, but what about self-preservation?   

 It does not take long for the worse to happen. Distracted by the impressive scenery, Arthur trips and brushes up against the cave wall.  When Lewis sees Arthur’s arm start to turn green, everything rings with an overpowering déjà vu. This time, Mystery doesn’t jump in to immediately rip the infected limb free.

 “Hey, Arthur! Come check out this view!” Other-Lewis calls from where he looks to be attempting to peer down into the steep drop. Arthur lunches forward, arm outstretched and aiming for other-Lewis’s unprotected back. 

 “Lew..!” 

 His name is chocked off, so his counterpart doesn’t have time to turn around and brace himself. Lewis is treated to the somewhat horrifying sight of his own shocked expression as he disappears over the edge of the stone platform. He hears the other-Lewis yell, which echoes in the stone chamber, and then he only hears Arthur’s harder breathing. The sound is no longer muffled but distinct and sharp, taking over the memory. 

 Had…had he just watched himself die??

 The next sequence is also disturbingly familiar. White teeth. Bone snapping. Blood droplets spinning in the air. Unlike his own recent experience, Arthur doesn’t immediately blank out, so Lewis is treated to the phantom sting of pain, filtering through the bond. 

“Ah Shit.” He hears Arthur uncharacteristically say in contrast to the nightmare going on around him. Was that the body snatcher?? The scenery blurs and distorts so he no longer has a clear view.  

This couldn’t be real…This wasn’t a real memory because he definitely wasn’t dead. He'll wake up in the hospital, and Arthur and Vivi would be fine. They would work everything out. 

The cave dissolves, breaking apart and fading. 

....

Lewis blinks and opens his eyes to darkness. Complete and utter black presses in from all angles. The memory…or illusion because there was no way that had been a real memory… is finished. For a moment Lewis can’t think, brain stalling as he tries to process what he’s just witnessed. 

It couldn’t have been a real memory. But, if that where the case, then why show it to him? Too upset him?? Well, it has succeeded. Poor Arthur, he had probably been terrified. At least when Lewis had had his own arm bitten off, he had, sort of, understood that Mystery was trying to save him. Arthur and other-Lewis were taken completely off guard. He can’t image what they might have been thinking. Nothing good. Slowly he clenches his fist, drawing it into his chest, clutching it tightly.  When he looks down, he can see his hands and torso, giving off a faint lilac glow. It’s his own arm, whole and attached. There is solid ground beneath his feet, though, when he looks down, all he sees is the same bank darkness.  Lewis glances around in helplessly. Stuck in this empty void, all he can do is feel frustrated and trapped.  

Where is he?

 His vision blurs, and he blinks again. 

...

 Reopening his eyes, Lewis struggles to focus on an off-white ceiling lit by warm natural light. He is lying horizontally on a soft surface. For one brief moment, Lewis thinks he’s made it back to the real waking world. No more nightmare fake-memory. That overhead definitely looks like a hospital ceiling and he seems to be in a bed. 

 When he tries to move, he is faced with a familiar disconnection and lack of control. He still can’t quite feel his limbs or talk. 

 /Arthur./ 

 The voice seems to pull Arthur fully awake and his vision finally focuses, landing on Mystery who leaps nimbly into a vacant chair positioned adjacent to the bed. A curtain blocks out most of the room to his left and a window lets in fading sunlight on the right.

 Lewis is right about this being a hospital. The space is sparse, tilled with grey and white vinyl, consisting of a single bed, and two empty chairs, one with a blue denim jacket slung over the backrest. Bright red eyes catch the light of the fading sun, causing Arthur to flinch slightly under their unnerving intensity. At first, Lewis thinks there is something wrong with the memory when darkness tugs at its edges but quickly realises that it’s because Arthur is too drowsy to properly focus. 

 /You are awake./ The sentence is said with relief, sounding distorted to Lewis who is again relegated to watching from the sidelines. 

 “You’re talking?” Arthur mutters to himself. 

 /…Yes…/

“Oh…” 

 Mystery is silent and Arthur’s attention drifts away to examine the ceiling, vision continuing to dim. If Mystery waits any longer, Arthur is going to fall right back asleep. Lewis wishes he could ask the dog questions. He has so, so many questions about everything that has happened over the last 24 hours. 

 But no…he can’t as he is once again the silent observer. 

 /You do not remember either…/ Mystery’s voice is softer, reserved, almost as if speaking to himself. 

 “Remember...” Arthur repeats, blinking up at the ceiling so Lewis can’t see Mystery’s expression when he asks gently, /What is the last you remember, Arthur? /

“A cave… I think?”

 /Nothing else?/

 “Vivi and Lewis were there...” Arthur winces. Even with the sound muffled Lewis can hear Arthur’s confusion as he clings to consciousness. Mystery lets out a long breath, shuffling back, jumping from chair to the floor.

 /Go back to sleep Arthur. / Mystery, now out of sight, commands softly. The sound fades and Lewis is left alone in the dark, the memory finished. 

...

Once again, he blinks, and he is back in the empty space …still clutching his arm. Lewis glances around, mind churning. What had been the point of that memory? Maybe, it was supposed to mess with his head, tricking him into thinking he had awakened back in the hospital, giving him relief then snatching it away.   He doesn’t get the chance to properly contemplate the ramifications of the scene because the next memory starts suddenly with a lot of panicked movement and activity. 

....

 Instead of drifting back to consciousness slowly, Arthur snaps awake, lunching himself upright, arm outstretched like he's trying to grab something. Lewis’s perspective spins as he tries to reorientate himself within the new memory. Sunlight is streaming through the window, making the white walls and floor unbearably bright. Arthur apparently thinks so too because his vision distorts as his eyes water. 

 “Whoa! Arthur, you’re awake!” Vivi’s startled voice draws Arthur’s attention. His friend’s gaze snaps to her and he blinks rapidly.

 “Vivi…what…ugh...” Arthur groans, doubling over, gripping his bandaged shoulder. Even Lewis can feel a phantom sting of pain, captured faintly in the memory. It is a harsh reminder that this is his future as Lewis might also be faced with a missing limb upon wakening. Perhaps, foreshadowing Lewis’s future is the purpose of this particular fake-memory. 

“Where am I? What is this?”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital,” Vivi reassures and Lewis examines the darkened under her eyes and her gaunt features like she hasn’t been eating properly. The room is the same hospital room from the last fake-memory only it is now daytime. There is also a book, lying discarded, face down on the floor. Vivi had probably dropped it upon Arthur's sudden awakening. 

 “Mystery…Mystery was here…he was…ouch….” Arthur’s grip tightens on his shoulder. For several seconds the scene blurs and distorts as Arthur tries to control his breathing, panting heavily. 

"Why does everything hurt?"

“You shouldn’t be moving around so much…” Vivi answers gently, voice soft and careful. Arthur reaches pull at the bandages on his shoulder to which Vivi immediately grasps his…Arthur’s…hand. Lewis momentary struggles to separate the two, thrown by the affection the action inspires in him. 

“Hey, stop that.”

“My arms gone…” Arthur breathes, shivering, shifting his grip to squeeze Vivi’s hand, staring at her with wide eyes. Her expression radiates concern.

“I can’t remember anything.” Arthur stammers, growing more panicked.

 “The doctor said that’s normal for recent trauma suffers,” Vivi placates, returning the squeeze “…here, I’ll call the nurse now. They should probably be the ones to explain this…Also...I'll text Uncle Lance as well...he'll want to know you're awake...”

 “Trauma?” Arthur interrupts dumbly, looking from Vivi, who reaches for bed’s call remote and then her phone, to his bandaged shoulder like he’s not sure if it is real. Internally, Lewis winces, uncomfortable. Even if this is fake, it still feels like an invasion of privacy.  

 “Were we in an accident? I remember a…a cave or something... It was dark…green...” He shivers again. 

  “I…” Vivi’s voice wavers, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. 

 “I can’t remember much either…” She admits, uneasy. 

 “Oh..I...I see.” 

They both appear equally confused, lapsing into a disconcerting silence. 

Lewis’s thoughts shift anxiously at the admission. Is it a good or bad thing that neither of them remembers that strange cave nightmare? Did that mean neither of them remembered his death? It had been a pretty traumatic event…maybe it is for the best that they don’t remember. But why include that in this set of fake memories? If the point of all this was to make Lewis suffer, then witnessing Arthur remember unwillingly pushing other-Lewis down a pit would be more upsetting for the both of them. Knowing Arthur, his friend would definitely blame himself for other-Lewis’s death. Surely, forcing him to watch his friend spiral into a circle of self-deprecation would be the worst sort of second-hand torture. 

 “What about Lewis? What does he remember…” Arthur asks suddenly, glancing around like he is expecting the other-Lewis to come strolling around the curtain. 

 Of course, there is no Lewis. If this was continuing on from the last memory then the other-Lewis was dead. Vivi doesn’t respond and Lewis’s feels a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach . Or maybe it’s Arthur feeling that...hard to tell. 

 “Vivi?” Arthur glances back in time to watch Vivi’s expression slacken, eyes growing vacant. 

 “Vivi?” Arthur repeats, flustered, pulling at the hand still holding hers. Several seconds pass and Vivi stares, unfocused and unaware of Arthur and his increasing panic.  The memory ends with a nurse arriving and Arthur trying to physically shake a response out of Vivi.

.

 Lewis is left cut off from his two friends to fret in silent isolation. Around him the dark presses in once more. Even if the memories weren’t real, Lewis still feels a lingering pang of worry and distress at seeing either of his friends hurt. He would give anything to just...walk into that hospital room and alleviate Arthur’s fears and check on Vivi himself. Angry and anxious, Lewis waits for something else to happen. 

How many more of these disquieting, fake memories is he going to have to live through? 

...... 

Note: Hello! It’s been ages (^▽^;) here’s an update. Enjoy!

Part 38: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #lewis peper #mild violence #angst #getting stuck watching anther person's memories? is there even a tag for this? #blood and injury #timelines #time travel #amnesia

[paellaplease]

Firebird | Chap.7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

I’m back!

Chapter 7: Of Monsters and Metals Part 2.

...but by the restless heart that refuses to falter.

*

   Contrary to popular belief, whilst she was well accustomed to it, years of sweaty work hadn’t endeared her to the less glamorous aspects of working in a forge. It was hot, and oftentimes stuffy, making water breaks important as the hours passed on and her arms began to tire. Working through the summer was unbearable, with no amount of mountain air able to cool the uncomfortable redness on her face and arms.

Whilst Teacher could walk around the forge like it was her second home, it took months of discipline for Maiya to tolerate the place. How ironic that it seemed to follow her everywhere like a rope tightly wrapped around her wrist.

Shifting in her seat, she was thankful that the constant exchange of air above Jackdaws had rid the forge of the usual sulfurous stench of burning coal. This quiet, unassuming workshop kept close between Wayra’s rock and stone, like a beating heart beneath living flesh.

....But of course it would take a miracle to completely filter out the unmistakable burning smell of hot steel and the lingering taste of metal on her tongue.

A small drop of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. If I close my eyes, she mused, it would be like I never left home. Her head lolled forward, the previous hour’s excitement catching up to her. It wasn’t everyday a Rito takes you flying.

She was sinking in her seat, a single voice one of the only things standing in the way between her and an impromptu nap.

“…almost impenetrable rock like bodies completely covered in ice! I have heard with enough prolonged contact they could also freeze exposed flesh in seconds. It’s incredible...”

Oh. Right.

It took all her might to peel her eyelids back open. Of all the challenges she was bracing herself to encounter from Rito Village, she didn’t expect ‘being lectured again in another forge’ to be one of them.

Yep, definitely just like home.

In the reddish glow of the forge, Uleh gesticulated with a graceful turn of a poised hand. The Zora appeared fresher than a daisy, a completed sword blade resting on the anvil next to them, gleaming almost as bright as their teeth. Where they got all their energy from after what would have been hours of gruelling work was one of the many greater mysteries of Hyrule.

They spoke words that, whilst probably important, unfortunately fell on deaf ears as the Enchanter dozed off. The heaviness of her eyes continued to fight her as they settled on a rough sketch of the monster. Drawn in haste, it appeared to be one big blob with two smaller blobs attached at its sides to act like its appendages. It was a literal rock. A giant, dangerous rock. Larger than a house, the Zora had said. She briefly wondered if Uleh was having her on.

Guess so long as we don’t get within arms reach it should be fine.

“I suppose we’re not befriending the Talus and escorting it back home?” An exasperated voice called from a corner of the room. Maiya leaned her head back, her brain supplying an upside-down image of Revali testing the balance of a Falchion on one of his wings.

“Unfortunately not, but how uncharacteristically nice of you, Master Revali." The Zora replied, evidently unbothered by the archer’s sarcasm. Propping their head up with a hand, their smile was natural. Easy. "Making friends with monsters? We should table it for a later venture.”

The blue Rito opened his beak to protest, but was cut-off again by the Zora’s ringing laugh. “Ahah, you may be onto something though. Managing to form a positive connection would make your jobs easier. I mean, since you’re getting up close and personal anyway.”

“Hmmm...yeah.” Maiya sat up and stretched.

A beat passed as her brain finally decided to process the last sentence. “Wait.”

“Not to worry. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” Uleh said, totally misreading her panic. They tapped the side of their skull for emphasis. “The ingredient should be in the ore poking out of its crown. You can’t miss it. It’s usually right at the top of its head.”

Years of accumulated dust motes floated into the air as the Hylian slammed both her hands onto the aged writing desk. She gripped the edges in shock, the hardwood creaking. “Sorry.” A breath. “Can you run that by me again? Starting at the part where you said this wouldn’t be difficult.”

Uleh caught the tipping candle-holder before it fell, saving their map from going up in flames. They tilted their head down to look at her, wide-eyed confusion making her feel a little guilty. “Forgive me Miss Enchanter, had I said something wrong?”

“No.” She huffed, refusing the need to anxiety-pace around the room. “I mean yes. It’s just...” It was ridiculous. This is crazy. “You’re saying that the ingredient is found on a sentient boulder that wants to kill me.”

Adopting the countenance of a wise sage imparting worldly knowledge onto their pupil, the Zora clasped their hands and set them gently on the shaking table. "Not quite a boulder. Picture it more as a hulking, moving, ah... mini mountain. Encased in ice.”

"And it wants to kill me."

"And it wants to kill you, yes.”

This was bad. She should say something. She could feel Revali’s eyes piercing into her back. Goddesses, Maiya. Get a grip!

Was talking to the Blacksmith really worth the risk of getting hurt? Forging swords, setting traps, and being semi-decent with her throwing knives for self-defence were nowhere near enough to qualify her as a monster-hunter. A rabbit, fine. But a rock monster more than quadruple her size? I must be delusional.

She scrubbed her face wearily. “What makes you think this is a good idea?”

“Well, I’m speaking to one of the last known Enchanters of Hyrule and the Pride of the Rito. Why, it should be a doddle with two living legends on the case.”

The two responses from said Enchanter and Rito came at the same time:

“I’m not a legend.”

“Pah, naturally.”

Maiya inhaled deeply. “Why don’t you help us fight it, then? Three against one would mean surefire success.”

The furnace behind them crackled, sending sparks into the air. It illuminated the iridescent shine of the zora’s scales, their many jewels glinting in the gloomy atmosphere of the forge. It was a little funny. In contrast to their surroundings, they looked like an angel who had wandered into the wrong afterlife.

Uleh mulled over her question, idly spinning the charcoal in their hand. Whilst their smile remained, there was a tenseness that wasn't present before. After a minute, they finally regarded her, golden eyes far away as they cleared their throat to reply. “It’s because—

A disgruntled sigh interrupted them. “Honestly, enchanter. Must I throw the rulebook at you? It’s rather shameless really, asking the other party to help fulfill your part of the agreement.”

Maiya whipped her head around, leaning back so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “Lecturing me on manners now? That’s rich coming from you, Rito.”

“Why, I don’t understand your meaning. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman this entire time.”

Running a hand through her unruly hair, she would have marched directly up to him to give him a piece of her mind if it wasn’t for Uleh holding her back. She whipped around to look at them, realizing she’d forgot to drop her glare when they nervously coughed and released their hold on her shoulder.

“Ah, um.” They idly ran a claw down the silver chain decorating the two flat fins that hung on the sides of their head like hair. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever’s going on here. You’re both right, in a way. It’s logical that the chances of success would increase with extra hands. In fact, if I could lend you my aid I would, but…”

Shrinking back, they went quiet again, words bashful and barely audible. “I’m no good in a fight.”

Maiya stared at them quizzically. Growing up with Teacher had its many challenges. For one, the Sheikah could read most people with ease, be it a guilty child who had just scribbled on a newly painted white wall or even a fully grown, extremely stoic adult trying to cheat her out of what should be reasonably priced eggs. For a young Maiya, it made stretching the truth risky, and lying to her mentor out of the question.

Whilst she was no expert in body-language, spending most of her teenage years under her mentor’s watchful eye had taught her a few things about common tells. Maybe it was in the way the Zora’s golden eyes lost their gleam? Or in their sudden shyness. Either way, whilst they may have been sincere for most of the conversation previously, Uleh in that moment wasn’t telling the full truth.

She pressed the bottom of her palm to the aching spot above her brow. This was getting too complicated. Her chest ached from the stress. She winced when the rune bit at her skin. The pulse at her wrist felt strong under her fingers, beating out a warning call.

We’re wasting time. So what if they’re lying? Anything for Enchanting, right? Wasn't that the goal? To further or find what was lost whatever the price?

There was no point in turning back now. Pressing the issue wouldn’t change the fact that it would just be her, Revali, and this Talus tomorrow. If she wanted to meet the Blacksmith and actually have him listen to her demands, then this seems like the most direct option available. Beggars can’t be choosers, she already failed in uniting the Enchanted dagger with an owner. Teacher would never forgive her for letting go of a lead like this.

“Alright. Deal still stands.” She decided.

Standing up, Uleh raised their hands to the ceiling to stretch, the relaxed grin they had before returning to their face in full force. They leaned over the table, annotating a place in the map marking ‘West Rospro Pass’ before rolling it up and sealing it with a clip. “Well then, time and tide wait for no one.”

Maiya reached her hand out, jumping when a blue wing beat her to it, swiftly taking the map from the Zora’s hands.

Beside her, Revali rolled his shoulders. Seeing her annoyed expression, he lightly tapped the map on the top of her head, his feathers puffing up at his excitement to leave this hellish hot-box. “Careful, Hylian. Your face will get stuck if you keep frowning like that forever.” He said, poking her cheek with a pointed feather.

She couldn’t help the surprised squeak that escaped her mouth, Revali’s smirk growing even wider.

The fact that the feather pressed to her face was unbelievably soft pissed her off even moreso. She quickly swatted him away, face warming. “Buzz off,” she groused.

The Rito chuckled, but complied, withdrawing his wing to haughtily cross it with the other against his chest. “Tomorrow you’ll have front row seats to watch a true Master at work.”

The silence that followed made him sigh. He looked at her pointedly. “Would it kill you to be a bit more lively?”

“Yipee...”

“Amazing. Your sincere exuberance is truly heart-warming.”

She rolled her brown eyes as Uleh gave them both a thumbs up. The Zora's laughter, like chiming bells, filling the dark forge. It was infectious, and she couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile in return.

Perhaps tomorrow wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

   Birdsong greeted Maiya as the night sky slowly brightened into a lavender hue, the first signs of dawn peaking over the horizon. She tiptoed down the outer staircase of Swallow’s Roost, careful not to wake the travellers who rested peacefully on the other side of the wall.

She rubbed her eyes, fighting back a yawn. Wisps of smoke left the tops of chimneys, chefs and bakers preparing their iron cook pots for another working day of feeding an entire village and more. A gust of wind brought the scent of charcoal and firewood, acidic and earthy...

— Fire. Burning. Melting feathers and flesh. An arrow piercing skin and muscle—

The Enchanter pressed her knuckles into her temples, attempting to relieve the pressure forcing her head to burst. Another night, another terrible sleep in Tabantha. She knew this wasn’t normal; these night terrors. Her bones ached from hours of tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat and forcing herself to relax, only to be met with the same dream once again. Perhaps when all of this was over, a visit to the village healer would be a good idea.

However, against her better judgement, there was something invigorating about the new day. This was crazy; mad! Teacher would never have allowed it had she been in the same room when the decision was made. And perhaps that was exactly why her stomach felt like it was doing dumb, excited flips, her mouth turning up at the edges.

This was her chance to prove herself, show her mentor how dedicated she was to the cause and her studies. It was a little unorthodox, but she was sure Teacher would understand once she comes home with new information. In fact, she could omit most of the details from the letter anyway and leave in the non-life threatening bits that won’t cause any alarm.

She nodded to herself, hands tightening around a relatively empty backpack. She patted down her front and sides to check that she had what she needed. Throwing knives, waterskin, materials for basic first-aid, and a hammer and chisel from Uleh to help her collect the ore pieces later.

“That’s everything, I think. As well as…”

Her fingers froze as they brushed the raised embellishments on the enchanted dagger’s hilt, reality running up to slap her in the face. Hands curling around it, she felt a torrent of shame wash over her. What was she doing? This wasn’t the time to act like an overexcited child. This was serious, so much was riding on her getting this right. And her mentor wouldn’t be happy if she were to fail. Wait. Her stomach dropped. What if I do fail?

What then? She wondered. Would she even be alive to report the bad news?

Sighing, she forced her hand away from the dagger, turning to look beyond the railing and into the world beyond. If anything, at least it was a beautiful morning.

A voice appeared to her right. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Hylia’s left tit— ! Cheska!” She all but screamed, grabbing the railing in a death grip.

The innkeeper tipped her head inquisitively when a brief spark of blue flashed in her eyes.

“Uh!! Hello!” Maiya floundered. She hid her hand behind her back, feeling sweat build on her brow when Cheska’s eyes followed the action. “G-good morning. If this is about the late dinner you brought up last night, thank you so much! It was really, really good.”

She swallowed her spit, her nervousness still bubbling. “Not to say that your food isn’t always good. It’s just that I rarely eat fish. Not to say fish isn’t delicious. It’s just that where I live in Akkala we’re not really close to the sea so— ”

“Hylianlla! Slow-down.” The Rito laughed. “Jeez you are jumpy today. Take a deep breath. That’s it. In and out. Before the wind snatches it away— ah, I sound like my mother."

Cheska smiled warmly. Her rounded golden earrings reminded Maiya of two small suns, catching the light as she idly transferred the small paper package she held from one wing to another. “No worries, silly chickie. I’m always happy to feed a hungry traveller.”

The Hylian nodded, taking this as a sign that the conversation was over. She stepped to the side, moving to shuffle around the innkeeper, only for the Rito to block her path once again.

“However!” Her eyes sparkled. Maiya had a bad feeling about this. “What have you been up to yesterday that led to being dropped off by a mysterious and handsome blue-feathered stranger with the famous Great Eagle Bow?”

The Enchanter made a face. She was not mentally prepared to be having this conversation. “I can confirm that it’s not whatever you’re cooking up in that head of yours— and please stop wiggling your eyebrows!”

In an effort to distract herself from the blush that was snaking up her neck, her eyes strayed to the pink and orange sunrise above them, the clouds moving across the sky like white rolling waves. “As to what I’ve been doing. Well...not much really. Read a few books at the Archive. Got a tour of the village. Had a fight with the local blacksmith that led to striking a deal with the Zora that lives in the depths of the ancient rock supporting all of us right now.” She cringed at how crazy it sounded. “Did you know that by the way?"

“Uleh? Duh, they pass by from time to time.” She idly brushed a wing down one of her earrings. “We have the best chats. But tell me more about this tour!”

Despite the stress weighing on her mind, the Enchanter laughed, digging her hands in her pockets. “Of all the things...judging from your description I think you already know who this mysterious stranger is. Wouldn’t recommend it, but he’s all yours.”

“He’s all…” Cheska paused, voice breaking. She stood still, expression rapidly switching from confusion, realisation, to deep and feather-raising mortification.

Tilting forward, she began to giggle. Maiya stepped back in surprise, watching it transition into full blown laughter. “Uh, Cheska?”

The Rito doubled over and slapped a wing over her beak. “Revali?! Ha HA! Qoyllur-cha?” She sucked in a shaky breath, before dissolving into peals of incredulous laughter once again. “Heck no, amiha. I’m sure Mr. Grumpy is well and truly enamored with himself anyway.” The innkeeper wiped a tear from her eye. “Ah, Blessed Nayru. You’re a hoot!”

“Right,” Maiya said slowly, cheeks reddening at her social blunder. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes,” the Rito snorted. “Okay I’m done. For real. I’m sorry!”

Forcing herself to keep a straight-face, Cheska shook her head, composing herself. “Goddesses. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m recovering after an old friend showed up to the village yesterday. Big fiesta, great fun even though I couldn’t stay too long.

Jini brought out the good pisco this time.”

She smiled at Maiya’s blank expression, unperturbed by the lack of an equally excited response. Stepping back, she offered the Hylian the package she’d been holding on to. “Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, that mysterious blue Rito stopped by to leave this for you before dawn this morning.”

The Enchanter looked at the brown-paper package. She wondered if it was a good time to open it, but could feel Cheska’s poorly hidden curiosity bearing down on her. Might as well. Without much hesitation, she pulled on the thin rope holding it together.

A piece of cloth fell into her waiting hand.

It was a bandana. Dyed an azure blue, it reminded her of clear summer skies and the blue nightshades that glowed in her mentor’s study. Running her thumb over the soft fabric, she found that whilst it was simple and unpatterned, it was soft and very well-made. Unfolding it, a delicate piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the floor before she caught it.

She smiled, wondering if this was the prideful Rito’s version of an apology. Unbeknownst to her, her heart warmed at the thought.

Maiya quickly read the note:

So your haphazard hair doesn’t endanger us today - Revali.

The Hylian scowled, crumpling the message and stuffing it in her pocket. “Why am I so surprised?” She muttered. Despite her ire, she delicately smoothed out the blue bandana in her hand, pulling it around her hair and knotting it with irate conviction.

Saying a quick “Thank you and Good Morning” to the innkeeper, she began to angrily brisk walk up the village stairs.

Cheska waved her goodbye. “And where are you off to now, hylianlla?”

“I’m going to fight a Frost Talus.” She called over her shoulder casually.

“You’re what?!”

“Bye, Cheska!”

Revali was already waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He tapped his talons on the ground, leaning impatiently against the archway. The armour he had on the day they first met was fitted securely around his form, slightly hidden away by a flowing white scarf wrapped snug around his neck.

His back was to the sun, making it necessary for her to shield her eyes as she approached. Whilst there was no royalty amongst the Rito, he looked every bit like an irritable prince as light streamed from the heavens behind him.

His honeyed, infuriating voice called out to her as soon as he saw her hand leave the banister.

“You’re late.”

Maiya wordlessly tossed an object at him, the Rito Warrior snatching it from the air with ease. He looked down at the warm pastry that nearly hit him in the face, its icing topping and cinnamon scent unmistakeable. “A sweetroll?”

“Breakfast.” The Enchanter said, falling into step beside him as they walked down the ramp and onto the expansive launch point. The breeze was strong from this open landing, the battered wind markers around them whipping chaotically in the open air. These were the kind of conditions favourable to sailors, carrying amazing wooden creations to places unknown.

And I guess Rito as well, she thought, narrowly avoiding a tall, orange-feathered figure that landed a few feet away. Maiya righted herself, nearly stumbling backwards in surprise.

"Sorry, chika!" They called out, stepping around her quickly and making a beeline for the stairs.

The Hylian looked on in bewilderment, tugging a little self-consciously on her bandana as she turned back to face the archer. “What the...ah, anyway. I was on my way here when I realised I hadn’t eaten yet. Decided to stop by the bakery.”

Revali took a bite from the roll, making a small hum in approval before reaching into the utility pouch attached to his belt. Pulling out a glass vial, he passed it to the Enchanter. “My thanks then, as well as your payment.”

“What’s this?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the vermillion liquid within. She uncorked the stopper and took a whiff of the unknown substance. It was pungent and sharp, making her pull away.

“Spicy Elixir. So you, pardon my bluntness, avoid freezing your pointed ears off whilst we’re traversing through the mountains.”

Maiya smelled it again, wrinkling her nose.

Revali tut-tted, though his eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement. That bastard. “I don’t want to hear any complaints. The arctic chill is merciless. You need to drink it if you plan to keep all your limbs intact.”

She looked at the Spicy Elixir again, watching the dubious liquid slosh to the side—Oh Hylia, is that a butterfly wing?— before throwing it back as one would a shot. The warmth that came was instantaneous, as if an invisible force had suddenly encased her. It wrapped around her in the same way a blanket that had been left to heat close to the fireplace would. She was filled with a renewed sense of energy and realised then how cold her joints really were even in her heaviest of clothes.

Revali chuckled.

She opened her eyes, the curve of her mouth falling into a frown. “Care to share?”

“Not that I was speaking any falsehoods regarding the warming effects of the elixir but,” he smiled crookedly, shaking his head. “You trust too easily, Hylian.” Securing his bow to his front, he faced north and crouched.

Her brow twitched. “Me? Trust you?” Maiya shot back defensively as she hoisted herself up, minding this time not to grab on too tightly onto any feathers. “When Death Mountain freezes over.”

   Deep breaths and reign in the attitude was what she told herself as they left the landing. The drop still terrified her, her chest sinking to her knees everytime Revali so much as bobbed with the wind. She was thankful at least that the weather was favourable enough that he chose to forego the dive. Instead, he caught the gale with his outstretched wings, flapping and gaining height as they progressed forward.

Some adventurers on horseback looked up as they passed, many of them gaping in awe at the blue feathered warrior who sailed above them. Revali made no comment, head facing forward and beak an impassive line. Though the subtle fluff to his feathers gave him away, betraying the fact that he was basking in the attention.

Behind her, Rito Village became smaller with every passing minute, slowly disappearing behind the clouds until even the largest windmill was but a wink in the distance. Glittering waters turned into grassy forests as flat ground made way to grey rocks and white tipped bushes.

Revali’s wings caught a strong gust of wind, gaining speed as he advanced them forward through to the Hebra Mountains. Clouds parted, the white shroud slowly lifting to reveal a whole different world.

She felt like they were flying amongst giants. White capped peaks dominated the landscape from all directions, filling her peripheries and extending out into the distance. Reduced visibility combined with the blinding ivory void made it seem like it could go on forever. She’d never seen mountains like this before.

The wind also sounded different here. She would have thought that as a Rito, perpetually at mercy to the gale, he would find it troubling. Between these icy mountains it was wild and unruly, every gust pushing into them from different directions. However, as they ventured deeper into Hebra, it became apparent that Revali felt no fear.

If the breeze slammed into them at full force, he always knew just how to angle himself. Tilting, flapping, flying—anything to propel himself higher and further than ever before.

When it rebelled, he would soothe it. When it dropped away, he would easily reclaim it.

And when it calmed, a steady push against his wings, he would truly soar.

It was a literal breath of fresh air. Maiya could have sworn she was dreaming, still asleep in her room at Cheska’s inn. Up in the air, Revali was far from the gloating asshole who had nearly killed her with an arrow and never apologised. At this moment, he was quiet and precise, riding the gale like he was born amongst the clouds.

They flew behind one of the many snowy peaks, an empty mountain pass coming into view. Keeping close to the exposed mountain face at their left, Revali began to slow, aiming for a far-away spot jutting out perpendicular to the cliffside.

Landing on a slab of extended rock, he gestured for her to sit down, surprising her when he did the same.

The Hylian tried not to look down. They were suspended about 50 feet above the ground. Wind sifted through her hair, dancing around them and lightly ruffling the feathers along his side. She took this time to catch her breath, the mountain air surprising her with its sweetness. Vaguely she could detect the scent of the pine sticking up like pillars in the pure-white snow underneath them.

Temporarily shutting her eyes, she focused on her other senses. Cold rock underneath her fingers. Whistles from the wind. The smell of the pine trees mingling with something else. Wax and oak, with a hint of honey. She racked her brain for a reason why such an odd combination was now familiar to her.

Something cold touched her nose.

Maiya opened her eyes. She watched as snowflakes fell from the sky, imprinting temporary patterns on her clothes and melting on her exposed skin.

Then, like most times, panic decided to reel in its ugly head from out of nowhere.

Now seated and breath returning to her lungs, deep trepidation filled her. One scenario came after another, joining together and mixing into a single, big clusterfuck of a ‘what-if?’ What if she couldn’t fight? What if her knives never found purchase?

What if she froze? She could see the moment playing out clear as day. The fear would paralyze her. Glued to the ground with an angry Talus rushing towards her. Stuck in place until she was crushed underfoot like a bug.

“Stop that.”

Maiya turned to see that Revali had taken out his bow, running a feather down the gears. It was an intricate weapon, painted a steadfast dark-blue and embellished with geometric patterns along its sides.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so loudly.” He explained, grunting with effort when he tightened a screw.

Her eye twitched in annoyance at his tone. Must he always pick a fight with me? She frowned indignantly. “I’m not allowed to plan ahead?”

“You call that planning?" He scoffed. "Don’t fool yourself, enchanter. I’m not blind. You’re running your mind ragged again, overly ruminating on imaginary events that have yet come to pass.”

He began to adjust the bow’s string, running a feather down its side. “If you continue looking behind only to lose your head in the endless possibilities of potential threats, then you are defenseless to the already existing enemy running towards you. Expecting to survive like that is foolish. You will be better off fighting with your eyes closed.”

He set the bow down on his lap, training his full attention onto her. Her breath hitched. She found herself at the mercy of eyes a deep, emerald green. Piercing and sharper than any of the knives she was carrying, not a single detail escaping his notice.

“You will not be able to face your opponent effectively if you keep battling yourself. Truly look at what’s in front of you. Do that properly, and you will not miss.”

The Enchanter was silent, still feeling very much pinned under the intensity of his gaze. He’d only known her for a day or two and had already managed to find the holes in her armour, striking at them with such precise accuracy that she didn’t know whether she should thank him for the honest assessment, or push him off the ledge for his blatant rudeness and reading of her character. Her hand twitched as the rune sent a jolt up her arm, dancing along to the erratic beat of her heart.

But why…, she found herself wondering, unable to stop herself from staring back. Unknowingly, she leaned forward ever so slightly, flecks of snow falling around them. Why is he looking at me like that?

The mountainside shuddered, making them both jolt up in surprise. Hurriedly, she rushed to the edge of the short rock platform, the tension on her shoulders tightening in a vice grip at what she saw below.

It was colossal. Terrifying to the point where it almost crossed over the line to awe-inspiring by the sheer characteristic of its size. Rising from the earth, it shook and shuddered as if possessed, hobbling forward and slamming its gargantuan stone fists into the snow covered forest floor with so much force that it shook the mountain and their platform once again. From her vantage point, she could see the piece of ore at the top of its head, sparkling in the morning light like a jewel on a crown.

When the Talus’ hands came away from the ground, Maiya saw that they were coated in red. Not blood, she thought, too pink and thick. Though the longer she looked, she noticed the same pinkish red substance coating its body in different places. On its bare face, along its leg, all across its rock appendages. It flowed and bubbled, creeping along the Talus’ body like a parasitic weed, dripping like acidic rain and melting the pure white snow below.

Uleh did not mention that.

She coughed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy. “I think that’s our target.”

Revali exhaled a small cloud of air, unbothered. “Hm? That’s new. I thought we would have to lure it up from the ground. Seems it has done most of the work for us.” He pointed to the quiver of arrows on his back, some arrowheads curled and shaped to resemble a single flame. “It will go down easy with a few of these in its body. After all, a monster that relies solely on a barrier of ice stands no chance against the blaze of fire.”

He stood up, brushing the snow from his shoulder, a futile gesture as more began to rain down anyway. “No rush, it won’t be able to see us from up here.” He tapped the rock floor with his talons. “It uses the vibrations in the ground to make an ‘educated’ guess as to where its victim would be. From our vantage point, it’s like we don’t even exist.”

She tilted her head to the side, watching the Talus amble and sway from left to right, still feeling apprehensive at how relaxed Revali was in this situation. Warriors really are something else.

He brought the bow to his front, stretching his wings to the sky like he was about to go for a leisurely run and not, well, fight a rock monster that would crush you if you so much as sneezed on it. “Well then, enchanter. I do hope this seat provides you with an adequate view for the show this morning. Just sit back and get comfortable.”

Maiya stood and stalked towards him, not caring that she was invading his personal space as she stabbed a finger into his chestplate. “Get comfortable? What are you talking about?”

He took advantage of the height difference, looking down at her past the tip of his beak like he was appraising a petulant child. “You honestly believe I would let you fight that thing?”

She wanted to rip her hair out. “This venture is purely for my benefit, I am not letting you do all the dirty-work while I sit on my ass and watch like some useless piece of shi-”

The ground shuddered again. Both barely had time to react when a boulder was sent flying in their direction.

She blinked, suddenly finding herself gripping onto Revali’s front as they hurtled to the ground below. The Rito Warrior somersaulted in the air, the seconds of uncontrolled flight and pure free fall eating up the scream bubbling in her throat.

Then, his wings were outstretched, miraculously by the Goddess' grace catching the wind, slowing their descent before they hit the snow covered ground with a painful thud.

Her brain rattled, eyes fluttering and struggling to clear the fog blocking her vision. Her ears rang as she heaved in a breath, the very action making her cry out in pain. Her ribs hurt. Her hand...her hand was—!!

Shattered rocks rained above them. The Enchanter yelped, Revali’s voice loud in her ear as he gasped in alarm, wrapping his wings around her and rolling them to the side just as a large chunk of what used to be their platform stabbed into the spot where their bodies were half a second ago.

The Rito released his hold on her, standing up and equipping his bow in a single fluid motion. Through the haze of her clouded vision, she watched as he took aim, pulled the bowstring back and fired.

It surprised her how a monster without a mouth could make such a chilling sound. Cracking rock and a screech so glaringly inhuman reached her ears, making her blood run cold.

There was truly no turning back now.

In the next moment, her arm found itself in a vice grip as Revali hauled her to her feet, pulling her along as they sought cover in a nearby sparse grove of trees. Chest heaving, her brain struggled to catch up to what had just transpired. Barely, it managed to process the feeling of blue feathered wings running down her arms, tilting her head from left to right and brushing the hair away from her eyes.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Checking for injuries.” He said tersely. “Where are we?”

“Huh?”

Head snapping up, his eyes once again commanded her undivided attention. They were the same emeralds as before, except this time completely void of any kind of relaxed confidence, replaced now by a sharp focus and a clinical detachedness that made her stomach clench. “Hylian, do you know where we are right now?”

“Rospro Pass.” She said, remembering the words on Uleh’s map.

“Good. Did anything hurt when we were running towards the trees?”

Maiya blinked quickly. “No. Oh, well actually— fuck!” She screamed, hands slapping Revali’s wing away as she pulled her arms in to wrap around her aching torso. Her left hand shook and spasmed, strings of energy rattling through her veins like barbed wire cutting into her skin. This was too much. Mortifyingly, tears sprang up in the corner of her eyes. She’d been through much, much worse, but no matter how many times her rune had tortured her, pain is no different. Feeling something stuck in her throat, she spat it out to the side, a glob of fresh blood hitting the snow.

“Sorry,” Revali said quickly. “I need you to move your arms away.” With a little more prying, she agreed, too caught up in her panic for herself and the active and angry rune in her hand to feel embarrassed that he was lifting up the edge of her shirt, his wing poking the reddened, inflamed skin above her ribs as she hissed.

“One of them is fractured, but not severe enough to pierce the skin or anything important internally. At least from what I can see. Can you take some short breaths for me?”

She nodded, wincing at the sound of her wheeze.

“Then you’ll live.” Both their heads shot up to the direction of the same otherworldly screech from before, echoing not too far away from their current position. “Tch,” the Rito archer straightened up, reaching into one of his side pouches and pulling out a wide bandage. He made quick work of wrapping it around her middle, tying the knot and yanking her shirt back down. “You need to run away, enchanter. Follow the path down the mountain, there’s a guard post at the foot. Tell them to bring reinforcements.”

She glared at him, eyes red and venomous. “No! Not without you. I already told you, Rito, this is my mess and I am seeing it through.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, frantically scanning the clearing for some other kind of cover and coming up blank. “I’m still unsure as to what it is, but there is something wrong with this Talus. I’ve fought only two previous but I am confident that this one is different. It’s faster—smarter somehow.”

“And it can see us.”

“Yes, either through sheer dumb luck or something else entirely. Its movements are unpredictable. Almost like it’s being controlled from the sidelines.” He gritted out, annoyance shining clear at having to solve such a puzzle under immense pressure. He swiped the fallen snow away from his eyes, growling.

She directed her gaze to the floor, focusing on the patch of red seeping into the snow by her feet. Her blood was a stain against what was once uniform purity. Another roar echoed through the trees, this time accompanied by the crash of heavy footsteps, dragging through the snow. “I know you’re one of the best of your people, but even then there’s no way you can hold it back for that long without getting hurt.” She tried to reason.

Revali shook his head, squeezing her shoulder before turning to bolt past the grove. “I’ll distract it. Run!”

“Wait!” She reached out to pull him back, but her hand was met with only empty air. Pure dread stole the breath from her lungs as she watched him exit out the trees and into the open clearing where the Talus waited to meet him. Another jolt of pain rocketed through her hand. Combined with the stabbing ache in her chest it was almost unbearable. She inhaled shakily, moving forward and following the tracks that Revali’s talons had made on the ground, fighting for her eyes to stay open as she stumbled out into the light.

Snow lightly fell from the sky, brushing down azure feathers that fluffed at the edges as Revali levelled his bow. He fired three in quick succession, cutting a red line through the air like a shooting star. Each sunk into the Talus’ icy exterior, melting patches with a low hiss and exposing the black rock underneath.

Falling forward, the monster sunk back into the ground. Revali took advantage of the situation, sprinting away towards the cliff face to gain more distance.

Maiya took this chance to move as well, footsteps sinking into the snowy ground as she struggled forward in the direction of the Talus. The ground shuddered again as she launched herself at it, a knife in each hand. She dug the blades into its exposed interior, holding on for dear life as she scrambled to gain purchase.

“What are you doing?!” A frantic, angry voice yelled out.

“Fire more arrows!” Bracing her feet on the Talus’ surface, she took a chance and let go of one of her improvised hand holds, grabbing another knife from her bandolier and swinging it up to stab it into the last open patch of rock. She hoisted herself up, screaming out in agony but nonetheless refusing to let go. “Please!” She called out, feet slipping against the rock’s surface.

Something whistled past her ear. An arrow embedded itself into the space above her, rapidly evaporating the ice. Then came another, and another, marking a pathway up to the Talus’ zenith. Again she freed her opposite hand, fractured ribs shifting and aching as she stabbed a dagger upwards, pulling herself closer to the ore.

The strange parasitic pink substance flowed down next to her, emitting a stench of rot that made her gag. Carefully she maneuvered around it, not wanting to find out for herself what would happen if even the skin of her hand were to brush it.

Continuing to climb, she struggled against another monster, one intent on taking full control of her wavering resolve. It was a beast formed of intense fear and regret, tugging at her mind and causing her hold to grow shakier with every passing minute. Why didn’t you run away?! It roared.

The thud of another arrow spurred her forward, her adrenaline running high as she devoted her focus solely to reaching the top.

Almost there. For a moment, she could finally see the ore’s surface, shining only an arm’s length away from her. Maiya reached again for her bandolier, shaking fingers brushing an empty pocket.

“Fuck sakes,” she cursed. She was out of knives.

Clouds of air escaped her mouth as she leaned her head on the monster’s surface, an intense feeling of hopelessness freezing her movements. Everything felt heavy, the swinging scabbard at her hip weighing her down and threatening to weaken her hold on her knife.

Wait, there’s still...

Her hand drifted down to where the enchanted dagger was sheathed. In response, the rune spasmed, sending a shock through her veins in disagreement as if it knew exactly what she was going to do.

Not once did Teacher mention what would happen if she were to use an enchanted weapon of her own make. She was neither Master nor an unworthy stranger. So many things could go wrong. Would it kill her? Would it even work? What would happen if—!

Underneath her, the Talus shuddered.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, the surface began to move, lifting itself from the snow. All around her, the parasitic fluid coating its body came alive, calling out in celebration. Several arrows rained down from the sky, piercing into the Talus’ armour but failing to deter it from its course. The monster began to stand.

Maiya unbuckled the enchanted dagger from its scabbard. Grabbing the hilt, she lifted it up, and with all the strength in her body, swung up and stabbed it into the Talus’ ore.

There was a flash of light, an ear piercing screech, and suddenly she was in the air again.

It was like a bad dream. She could see the white ground hurtling towards her. Curling into herself, she braced just in time before her body collided with the snow. Something solid hit her head, rattling her brain and causing her world to turn black.

.

.

.

Wa…ke…!

Fire. Everything was on fire. She was drowning in a sea of fleeing people, ribbons of smoke were filling her lungs and the smell of burning and rot was choking her. A blood moon was in the sky.

Wa...ke….p

A figure was standing at the doorway of a crumbling house, calling out to her. Their feathers were burnt, dissipating into ashes as the skin underneath began to melt to the bone.

“I’m sorry, there are too many people!” She tried to scream, voice refusing to leave her lips as she fought helplessly against the tide. “Don’t just stand there! You need to run! I can’t— ”

A lilting voice, warm as sunlight, whispered in her ear.

“Hylianlla. Please. Wake up.”

.

.

.

In a disorienting second, her surroundings slammed back into place. Maiya sucked in a shaky breath, her cheek throbbing. Cold snow melted underneath her, seeping into her clothes and stinging like a thousand needles pressing into her skin.

The ground began to shake. A familiar voice was calling out to her. “Get up! Valloo damnit, enchanter! Stand!”

Every vein, every cell and atom in her bruised body cried out. She wanted to go back to sleep. This was too much.

Weakly, she rolled onto her stomach, the pain in her ribs causing her eyes to snap open. Coughing, she spat more blood onto the snow, her arms and knees shaking as she slowly began to stand.

She’d been thrown into the midst of an earthquake. Dazed, her head lolled upwards, watching in frozen horror as the Talus barrelled towards her, its heavy steps falling in time to the shuddering of the world underneath her feet.

Behind it, Revali furiously loosed arrow after arrow. Not one missed their mark, but not a single shot had managed to melt through its ice encasing. Belatedly, she realised that the archer had run out of fire arrows. The odds were stacked against them.

Yelling, she threw herself to the side, dodging a giant rock hurled in her direction. Desperately, she scrambled back onto her feet, avoiding one stone after another by the skin of her teeth. The monster continued to gain on her, quickly closing the distance between them.

Maiya blinked away the sweat from her eyes, the fear in her heart that had kept her alive for this long gradually losing its hold over her to the pull of fatigue. If she devoted herself to running, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the Talus’ attacks. If she slowed her run to focus on dodging, it would catch up to her in seconds.

I’m not going to make it.

Mind reeling, she didn’t notice the rock jutting up behind her. She tripped, falling face first into the snow. The monster shrieked in delight. Shaking violently, she tried to stand again, falling back down as the muscles in her legs seized from overuse.

The Talus was but a metre away at this point. Even if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to outrun it. A rare moment of peace settled over her as she slowly stood up.

If she were to die here, she wouldn’t die lying down.

As the monster approached, she managed to catch the glint of her enchanted dagger still embedded into the cracking ore. It was uncontrolled, spewing out flames in an unfettered act of rage. Her greatest creation was violent and angry, but the Talus remained unshaken. It would take days for it to make a noticeable dent.

What have I done?

Standing her ground, she watched as the Talus raised its fists to the sky, blocking out the sun as it readied itself to slam down and put an end to her life. She didn’t know what to think. Light escaped from the seams of her glove, the rune all but bursting into flames. Hylia, did it hurt. But it didn’t matter. This would all be over soon.

She kept her eyes open, making a quiet wish somewhere deep in her tired soul that despite all the odds stacked against them, Revali would escape.

A streak of red sailed through the sky.

Equal parts shocked and horrified, Maiya watched as the Talus’ movements suddenly came to a halting stop. All reality slowed. Rock arms, once raised high as a terrifying monument to her mortality, dropped to its sides as it turned around.

Facing completely away from her, the monster directed its attention to the Rito archer behind it, revealing to the Enchanter the single fire arrow protruding from its back.

Revali dropped his bow, every one of his arrows completely expended. Out of options, he unsheathed the hunter’s knife strapped to his belt, gripping it tightly between both his wings. “Hey, blockhead!” He called out, beak curved up in a mocking, open smile. “Face me.”

The repulsive pink parasite bubbled and writhed, releasing a vile, high-pitched wail. Its host shuddered to life, starting forward and dragging its hulking body along the snow in the direction of the Pride of the Rito.

Her body moved on its own.

West Rospro Pass melted into a mess of sound and colour. The pain that rippled through her chest, the frustration, the fear; all of it blended together and were cast aside as every fibre in her being rallied and converged on a single goal.

Nothing mattered beyond Getting. There. First.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she sank her teeth into the glove, ripping it away. Energy sparked and crackled underneath her skin. Beams of blue light spilled from her scar, warming the surface of her cheek and begging for release.

“YOU STUPID BIRD!”

Revali lifted his head, green eyes stunned when he saw the Hylian sprinting closer.

The earth trembled as the Talus neared. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the Rito by his white scarf, yanking him behind her and placing herself between him and the path of the monster.

It was only steps away now, close enough for her to feel the chill of the ice on the tip of her nose. Operating on pure instinct, she raised her left arm, trying not to flinch as the shadow of the Talus’ form fell over the both of them.

Panic seized her unexpectedly. She was dumped into the ocean again and rapidly sinking, struggling to keep her head above the waves as the storm thrashed mercilessly around her.

Caught in the undertow, she fought to stay afloat.

This is my fault.

I did this.

I can’t let him die.

I can’t let him die!

I can’t—

Someone held her shoulder. Warm breath fanned the hairs on the back of her neck. Revali’s voice, lacking its usual sardonic edge, was but a gentle whisper on her skin, piercing through the water and pulling her up from the depths.

“Maiya.” He said, grounding her.

Without another thought, she plunged her glowing arm into the core of the Frost Talus. The parasite screamed and thrashed in alarm. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to let go, letting the pull of the rune take over.

Her outstretched hand sunk past the ice with ease, beams of blue light escaping through the cracks of the rock and illuminating the Pass.

In mere seconds, her vision was full of nothing but fire. The Frost Talus, in its unfathomable enormity, was lost and overtaken in the light of the flames.

#revali #revali botw #revali x oc #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #loz #botw fanfiction #rito #rito botw #botw fic #fanfiction #writing #maiya botw #firebird botw

[kpopchangedme]

Midnight Somewhere | Bang Chan

It’s the last day of the year at work and the lack of supervision has apparently made your coworker lose sight of your office dating ban.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: SFW - Office Romance -  Best Friend - Humour - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “You’re up to something, and I want in” 

Requested by: @chessireneko​, I hope you like it!

Lys’ note: I wish you all a wonderful new decade! Happy New Year! (Don’t come @ me for being late, this is still my first fic of 2020 after all)

Stray Kids | M.list

It’s a slow day at the office but that’s pretty standard. Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, most of the company’s employees don’t even bother coming in. If no one is working upstairs to have tech issues, phones on your floor remain silent.

Still, every year, two employees of the nerd squad need to report for duty and it’s usually the loners, foreigners or asocial. You don’t belong to any of those categories but you’re one of the chosen ones this New Year’s Eve. Your whole family went on a Holiday trip to Bora Bora, abandoning you behind. Of course, you could be in worse company. You mostly agreed to come in knowing you’d be all alone with your work friend… And long-standing crush.

In front of you, Chan is ridiculously stretched, feet resting on the desk of his absent neighbour and head thrown behind. You spend every weekday facing the other, your computer’s screens back to back. You’ve been working together for two years, his family is back in Australia so he doesn’t bother with Holidays. The young man’s chair is tilted back precariously, unbalanced. His eyes are covered with a sleeping mask, a phone headset messily thrown on his head. He’s not sleeping though, just aggressively hungover. For some reason, his empty coffee mug – his second one – doesn’t seem to be helping much.

“I hear you, Mr. Radcliff,” you assure in your own headset, opening Minesweeper on your computer, “Yes. Yes. Of course. No. No, Yang is not here today. He’ll be coming back in two days. Yes.”

Chan slides up his mask to gaze at you curiously and you make eye contact. His eyes are bloodshot, matching his bedraggled looks quite nicely. The head of Marketing you’re on the phone with – Raymond T. Radcliff – is a divorced workaholic, infamous at tech support for his lack of both humanity and computer skills. Every time he breaks something, he calls to yell at whoever picks up, eventually requesting to speak to a supervisor. Today, for better or worse, you’re flying solo. Smile, Chan mouths you, grinning, they can hear your smile. That’s Yang’s motto, but the boss isn’t here to breathe down your neck. You flip your hungover friend the bird and his dimples dig deeper. At least someone’s having fun. 

Radcliff’s rant lasts for a whole hour, by the end of it you have switched to Mahjong. From the corner of your eye, you see Chan’s starting the drip coffee maker again. Frowning, you perk up and spin on your chair to be sure you aren’t hallucinating. He must be in pretty bad shape because he’s the only human in the whole building who is not addicted to caffeine. It’s like he has a superpower, he rarely drinks it. You though the pot from this morning was exceptional, but him brewing a second one must mean he’s on the brink of death.

“Um-Um.” You hum for Radcliff, unbelievingly following Chan’s movements as he fills the water tank, puts a new paper filter on and presses brew. That’s something you don’t witness every day. “Yes. Yes. I’ll spread the wor–” There’s a loud clicking noise when the Marketing god hangs up and you’re left hanging in the middle of a sentence. “What an ass!”

Chan laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. His back is turned on you, built shoulders perfectly outlined by his too-tight dress shirt. He has been hitting the gym in 2019. It’s an older one that doesn’t fit as well anymore, you haven’t seen it in months, he probably couldn’t be bothered with laundry these days. Usually, he’s tidy and clean-cut, the only thing that never screams ‘profesh’ about him is his perpetually dishevelled dark curls.

“What an ass,” he echoes and you twitch in surprise. You had drifted away, too busy shamelessly gawking at him. Bouncing back, you run fingers through your bangs, entangling them. "You okay?” 

Meeting his perplexed gaze, you smile, “Yeah, sorry I just…” Trailing off, you desperately search for something to say but Chan saves the day. 

“You know, it has its perks, holding the fort with me while everyone’s away at home…” Claiming so, he brings a mug full of hot beverage under his nose, inhaling it before winking suspiciously. He’s hinting at something. “You just need to make the most of it.”

“Christopher Bang, you’re up to something…” Glad he doesn’t seem to have noticed you staring, you cross your arms over your chest and circle the office to join him against the counter. In the meantime, Chan sips his coffee with the smile of an angel. “And I want in…” When you’ve made it, he offers you his mug and one draft is enough to make you shrink back. Your eyes round in shock. “You’re drinking!”

He gasps, faking to take offence; “Am not! It’s coffee!” He would have a lot more impact if he didn’t look half as bad as he did at your November company’s Christmas party… And you remember all too well how that ended. The dust has just settled down between you too, things barely back to normal. Chan’s all wobbly and intense eye-contact, definitely tipsy.

“More like coffee-flavoured whiskey!”

“Uh?” Chan pouts and looks down his mug, tilting it dangerously; “Then no wonder I like it so much.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh despite yourself, glancing at the elevator doors, “I thought you were curing your hangover.”

“Care to join on the fun?” He pulls out a whiskey bottle, poorly concealed behind the box of Froot Loops tagged ‘Han’ in capital letters. “The best hangover cure I know is to never stop.”

“We’re at work, Bang.”

“Alone, together. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

You scoff, “It’s still early.”

Unbothered, he gulps the amber liquid without breaking eye-contact. “It’s midnight somewhere.” He’s the one drinking, but somehow it’s your throat that is burning, staring when his tongue darts through his lips.

“We could get caught,” you hush, winded. Chan always has that effect on you. It might be the facing-each-other-all-day but there’s a spark, more than your simple crush. A mutual attraction you would definitely have acted on years ago if it weren’t of your no-dating office policy. Whenever you go out for drinks with the nerd squad, it always resurfaces, enough for the others to blatantly call you two out. If they only knew.

“Oh no, and lose the most fulfilling job ever? Who would Radcliff yell at?” He smiles, sipping again. “You don’t have to join me, don’t worry. I know how hard it is for you to let loose, y/l/n.”

“Hey,” you breathe out, irked, “I let loose.”

“Do you?” He tilts his head, playful, “When was the last time?” You both know when. You’re about to tell him off when his desk’s phone rings. Chan chuckles, pressing a button on his headset. “Lemon Tech Support. Christopher Bang.” Not breaking eye-contact, you quirk a brow defiantly, stealing away his mug. Chan watches intently as the white ceramic meets your lips, gulping himself when you drink the peaty liquid. “How can I assist you?” He reaches for your bangs, gently combing them back into place with his fingers and your heart races. There. There’s the thing between you again. If he wasn’t already flushed from the liquor, you bet his ears would colour cutely. 

Feeling your whole body combust at the intimate gesture, you drink the rest of the lukewarm coffee in one go. If you weren’t at work if there were no ban… You’d scratch that itch. You kissed at that Christmas party and you know you’re doomed to do it again. You just didn’t think you’d crave it so soon. Seeing you shoot the alcohol, Chan’s eyes darken, lips pressing into a thin line.  

"Dark?” Humming his approval in the mic of his headset, he moves to press you against the counter. Your surprise doesn’t seem to affect him much. “I see…” Chan gazes down at you through his eyelashes, palm climbing your hip and waist slowly. He must have lost his damn mind. “Yes,” he breathes out ludicrously serious, “I understand it is very frustrating. We should do something about it.” Is he talking about you two or to the person at the other end of the line? “Have you tried turning it on and off again, Janice?” Nevermind. Despite the situation, you can’t help but chuckle at the sheer plain mockery in his tone. 

When you try to slide away to safety, Chan expertly prevents your escape, smirking. You hate him. You hate how he knows you won’t resist. Hate that you can’t do anything, just remain stunned, wishing for more. His hand has stopped, fitting the curve of your waist perfectly. His thumb is on the side of your stomach and you can feel him through your thick shirt. Maybe it’s all those years just looking at each other because even this little is much. You feel light-headed and not from the whiskey. 

“Fantastic. You’ll just need to reenter your Intranet password after the restart.” Chan’s face is still sliced up in two. “It might take a while… Of course, I’ll hold the line.” His eyes glimmer of mischief when he pushes the mute button, it’s clear what he has in mind now. “Hey. This is nice.”

"This is not allowed,” you hush as if someone could hear, aware neither of you cares anymore, “and you are woozy.” 

Chan shakes his head, “I was when we were under the mistletoe, but you were perfectly sober.” You’re still holding on to the mug and it presses against your chest when he leans closer. “Yet, you kissed me.”

“I kissed you back.” You correct, making him scoff.

"Debatable.”

“I’m surprise you even remember.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been obsessing over that moment for two years.” You bite your lower lip to avoid smiling. You can’t believe he just said that, he shouldn’t. You’ve been there too. “It doesn’t help that you’re doe-eye lusting after me every damn day. I’m trying to get some work done here, y/n.” Sarcastic, he lets out a hollow chuckle when your mouth falls open in awe. 

“I do not.” You opt to lie and protest but then change strategy. If he’s going to be a tease, so can you. “What about all the inadvertent feet brushing under the desks?”

“Oh yeah, not accidental at all.” Chan snaps back, brazen, “I just love that you gasp every single time I touch you.”

That’s exactly what you do just then, gaze wide. “You’re crazy!” There’s no way he’s actually saying all that aloud. He’s lost it. You might be alone but you’re still in the office. 

“You kissed me,” he counterattacks. 

“I kissed you back. You can’t tell me these things. We aren’t supposed to be like that.” 

“I know you like it when I wear white shirts. I’m also aware you park your car next to mine on purpose to walk together. You stare a lot, but I do too. It makes me hot the way you toy with your hair when you’re on the phone. I’ve been bribing Yang for a year to send us on break at the same time, I take all his worst calls. Should I not say all of that either?“ 

“Chan,” you groan, ears burning up. 

“Relax, let loose. It’s cute. We’re cute.” His smile hasn’t faltered and it only widens at your bashfulness. “Oh come on, we both knew this would happen from the moment you kissed me.”

“You kissed me.” Incredulous, you can’t conceal your excitement anymore. You knew he felt it too, but you didn’t think he’d be one to suggest sneaking around. He usually likes to stick to the rules.

“If you say so,” Chan rolls his eyes, “I was going to do it again anyway.” Pausing, he studies your reaction. You’re still trapped against the counter, gazing up at him. “Tonight. I’m taking you out.” Your toes curl at the idea. 

“Maybe I have plans,” you oppose jokingly, knowing very well he isn’t going to fall for it. 

“Are you saying no?” He side glances at the empty office, amused. “I was going to kiss you at the stroke of midnight. I think that’s the right way to start the New Year.” You’re about to reply something witty when Chan reaches for his headset. “Yes, I’m still here.” Giggling, you drop your head, having forgotten all about the woman from accounting in his ears. “You need to enter the intranet password… Yours, yes. I certainly hope you don’t ever use my login, Janice.” There’s a faint laugh at the other end of the line. Winking, Chan reaches for the mug between you, discarding it on the counter. His thumb on your waist begins to rub tiny circles as his free hand climbs your neck, caressing your jawline and making you shiver. Flirtatious, he tilts your head so you are fully looking up at him. It’s not unfamiliar, remnant of that night under the mistletoe, still, butterflies soar in your stomach. “Fantastic. I’m glad I could help…” Feeling him up, your fingers slide up his shirt, tracing his collarbones through the fabric and his shoulders. You always dreamt of doing this and it’s way better than you imagined. “Yes, well… Happy New Year to you too, Janice.” Your touch gets more adventurous by the seconds. “Bye…” Chan licks his lips, irides now devoid of any playfulness. "Oh, bloody hell,” he grunts suggestively when your hands find their way to his ass. You hope the woman has hung up, “It’s midnight somewhere.” 

This time there is no doubt about who initiates it. Chan kisses you, arms wrapping around to hold you firmly into him. There’s no hint of hesitance when you respond, abandoning yourself against his chest completely. You both know what you are doing, know what you want. Your mouth toys with his, hands lost in his curls messing them up and making his headset fall to the carpet floor. You struggle to catch a breath, unable to tame the urgency of your embrace. He doesn’t seem to mind, tongue tracing your lower lip over and over again. His kisses are ardent and needy, never breaking completely. The counter is digging your ass but you don’t mind. This is both blissful and disquieting, you didn’t expect this to be so intense. All of a sudden, Chan pulls away, leaving you feverish and beggared at the dearth.

“Fuck me dead.” He groans, oblong eyes wide and breathing irregular. The swear is barely a sound at all, almost inaudible despite the quietness of the empty office. 

“E-Excuse me?”

“We’re going to have to be a lot more discreet from now on,” he states, categorical like he isn’t the one who crossed the line in the first place. “I can’t be just friends anymore.”

Heart thumping, you smile at him; “But you can’t keep a secret for shit, Chan.”

Laughing, he kisses you. “I guess I’ll have to quit.” Humming against his mouth, you don’t immediately notice the way his hands creep up, getting rid of your own headset to play with your hair. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” you sigh, rapturous. There couldn’t possibly be a better way to start anew than this. “Are you still taking me out tonight?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fantastic.”

Stray Kids | M.list

#skz #Bang Chan #Stray Kids #Bang Chan au #Stray kids au #Stray Kids Imagines #Stray Kids Blurbs #Bang Chan imagines #Bang Chan Fluff #Skz Fluff #Stray Kids Fluff #Christopher Bang #Bang Chan blurbs #Stray Kids stories #Bang Chan stories #Bang Chan is killing me #Stray Kids Scenarios #Bang Chan Scenarios #skz blurbs #skz au #skz imagines #skz stories #Midnight somewhere #I've noticed a lot of skz author tag all members that aren't even in their fics #i hate this habit so much like please don't do this #that's like my number one petpeeve on Tumblr #ARMY do this a lot too and people also tag BTS on random shit #KEEP TAGS CLEAN #Searching for something gets so freaking annoying when it's buried under a 1000 random posts that have nothing to do with it #anywayyy

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Chasing His Heat

Characters: Loki x Reader

Chapter: 1 of 2

Rating: Explicit

Summary: After a failed mission strands you in the Siberian wilderness, you and Loki are forced to take extreme measures to fend off hypothermia.

Warnings: Language, making out, partial nudity, implied smut, Loki is an ass but not completely

Taglist: @just-the-hiddles

“I’m going to kill Thor the next time I see him,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest against the biting wind that cut through your clothing as if it didn’t even exist.

“Only after I am finished with him,” Loki snapped, trudging a path through the snow ahead of you. His long strides were a bit too wide for you to keep your steps within, but you did your best, although the effort was pointless after spending several minutes out in the dreadful weather. Your shoes, socks, and pants were completely soaked, adding to the chill seeping into your bones.

You put on a mediocre impression of Thor’s booming accented voice, shaking your head back and forth and rolling your eyes, “Loki can assist you with that mission! He is the God of Mischief, and you will require stealth to successfully enter the base undetected.”

You let out a shriek of frustration and kicked at the snow. It was a dumb gesture, and you knew it before you did it, but it didn’t stop you; it only ended up with you sprawled on your ass, snow surrounding you on all sides. It immediately wetted down the rest of your clothing that had somehow remained relatively dry despite the light snowfall. Not anymore.

You had the sudden and intense urge to just give up and throw a temper tantrum.

“Didn’t account for their anti-aircraft missiles shooting us out of the sky, did you, Lightning Man?” you snarled and shook a numb, trembling fist at the cloud-covered sky.

Loki turned around and lifted his brow in a smirk at your defeated prone figure. “I am not coming back to retrieve you. There is what appears to be an abandoned building up ahead. We can use that for shelter until Stark can send another jet for our retrieval.”

The promise of shelter from the elements spurs you on, and you scramble to your feet and book it towards the small wooden cottage standing against the washed-out gray horizon. Behind it a dense forest of evergreens, blocking out the mountains that dotted the Siberian wilderness. You could only hope there’s a bit of firewood somewhere around it, or you could very well get hypothermia before help arrived.

Loose floorboards creaked underneath your combined footsteps as you both rushed into the cabin and slammed the door behind you against the howling wind. Your eyes darted around the room hopefully in search of firewood, a blanket, anything to keep warm. You’re left wanting when the only thing to be found is a worn rug that had seen better days at least a decade ago.

“Got any space heaters up your magical sleeve that I don’t know about?” you asked bitterly as you rushed over to pull the thick shutters over the two front windows to stop the worst of the wind blowing into the tiny space. Even with the shutters drawn and windows closed, a draft still blew in through near-invisible cracks between the logs. There wasn’t anything you could do about that. You peered around, using the faint light filtering in through the gaps in the logs, in one last-ditch hope that a change of clothes, plush couch, firewood, and a hot bath would have suddenly appeared in the few seconds you back was turned.

No dice. Damnit.

“Unfortunately I do not, no. It is not an issue I worry too terribly about,” he replied with a dry chuckle, walking over to the nearest wall and sliding down until he was seated against it.

You mimicked his position on the opposite wall, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as tightly as you could manage. You tucked your chin between your knees and chest and your blue-tinted mouth found a home against the sodden fabric of your thin light gray pants. You had dressed to blend in if you had the misfortune of getting spotted, either inside the Hydra base or outside, and the thin layers you wore did nothing to protect you from the elements even before you had been forced to abandon the downed Quinjet. Now that they were soaked through with snow, you shivered uncontrollably in as tight of a ball as you could manage.

“Lucky you, Asgardian. Just scrape me off of the floor when they get here,” you bit back, dropping your forehead onto your knees. Your breath barely warmed the small pocket you’d created between your thighs and chest, but it felt better than the frigid air of the cabin, so you closed your eyes and tried to focus on that small bit of comfort instead of the ache of your extremities from the lack of blood flow.

If only you’d gone on this mission with Nat, or Sam, or even Cap, they would know what to do. But you had no choice but to stick it out with Loki. He was unbothered by the cold, and most likely too far up his own ass to notice that you were freezing to the wall you huddled against.

A gasp of surprise left your chapped lips when a heavy arm settled over your hunched shoulders. You had been so fixated on the tremors wracking your body that you hadn’t noticed Loki’s heavy footfalls as he crossed the space to sit down beside you.

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” you asked, brow furrowed in concentration and indignation as you tried to get the words out around your chattering teeth. He radiated delicious heat that you long to curl into like a kitten but you held onto the last bit of dignity with your fingernails. You’d freeze to death before you accepted help from the asshole Asgardian who seemed to revel in nothing more than when he caused you endless amounts of frustration.

“I won’t be viewed favorably by our colleagues if I allow you to freeze to death. Hush and come here stubborn mortal,” he grumbled, velvet voice full to the brim with exasperation.

Your muscles seemed to have solidified in the short time you’d sat there, so you didn’t even try to uncurl when he lifted you like you weighed nothing and deposited you in the circle of his lap. Your jaw dropped to sputter against the forward action, but you instantly shut up at the blissful heat accompanying the actions of his arms wrapping the both of you in his green and black cape and pulling you into his chest.

A soft moan of pleasure rushed unbidden from your lips at his intoxicating warmth enveloping you, and you were powerless to resist the urge to bury your face into the hollow of his neck. The heady, masculine scent of spice and leather that perfumed to his skin and clothing washed over you, and you breathed it in greedily. His fingers tensed on your back briefly, but soon he relaxed and allowed his gloriously toasty touch to permeate your icy clothes.

“We tell no one about this,” you commanded quietly, words muffled against his racing pulse point.

A breathless laugh blew against your damp hair plastered to the crown of your head. “As if I would speak of it. No one would believe it if you deigned to inform anyone of your rescue by the dashing Asgardian Prince, so settle your nerves and be still.”

You bit back your retort to wrap your hands out from around your shins and up to cup his jawline, unfeeling fingers seeking the heat that you so desperately craved. In any other situation it would mortify you to act so boldly with the god, but it was just between the two of you, and he had started it. You were simply staving off hypothermia.

Well, you were trying. Despite the impressive heat his body gave off beneath his cape, it wasn’t enough to combat your water-logged clothes, and the tremor rattling your bones.

“You will not approve of this suggestion, but you will never warm properly while you remain in those clothes.” He patted his hand against your back to punctuate his statement, the wet slap of his palm loud in the almost unnatural quiet of the dimly lit cabin.

You closed your eyes and sighed drowsily. “Not happening.”

The answering shake of his head pulled your hands back and forth as they clung to his jaw. You stilled the abrupt movement by running your thumbs over the hollows of his cheeks. Subconsciously you continued the soothing movement. You couldn’t feel your fingers anyway, so what did it matter?

~~~

Loki’s hands shook your shoulders roughly, pulling you from the light doze that you had fallen into. It was so hard to open your eyes, but you forced yourself to when he called your name and cupped the sides of your neck so his thumbs propped your head up by your jaw.

He looked worried. His shining emerald eyes narrowed with concern and he cursed quietly under his breath. Your forehead fell onto his shoulder when he adjusted you on top of him so that your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms were wedged between you so your hands splayed across his broad, bare chest.

He was so warm. You could really feel it with your chests pressed together as they were. Your heels dug into his lower back and you tightened your fingers into his pectoral muscles to leech as much of his body heat as he had to give.

“Such a fragile little thing,” he murmured. The quiet words brushed his lips against the frosty shell of your ear and sent another wave of heat through you, but this time it went straight to the faint stirrings at the pit of your stomach.

Slowly, you came back to your senses as painful pins and needles pricked at your hands and feet. You groaned - more unhappily than pained - at the unpleasant sensation and lifted your head so you could visually inspect the offending body parts.

In the shadows of Loki’s cape, though, all you got was an eyeful of the half-naked god beneath you. Your wide eyes shot down to take in your own lack of clothing, and you were at least slightly relieved to see that you’re both still wearing underwear.

But that doesn’t explain where your clothing and your bra went. How had you not felt that happening?

Damn wizard.

“Loki, where the fuck are my clothes?” you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your bare chest and leaning away from him.

His hands remained firmly rooted to your back, not allowing you to gain more than a few inches of distance between your underdressed bodies. “You were succumbing to hypothermia. I made the decision to save your life at the risk of upsetting your delicate sensibilities about partial nudity,” he stated matter-of-factly with a shrug of his shoulders, having the gall to look bored with the entire conversation.

Your head shook side to side erratically. “Well, that’s not. I mean, you-”

He cut off your sputtering with a sharp shake of his head, raising one brow while he looked at you expectantly. “-I saved your life. You’re welcome.”

You shifted on his lap, and the innocent motion rubbed across the beginnings of his arousal, restrained by almost indecently thin underwear. The warmth that flooded out from between your legs had nothing to do with the toasty bubble created from your bodies beneath Loki’s cape, and everything to do with the lust shining in his eyes mere inches from your own.

This close, you took a moment to actually look at the god pinned beneath you, at the regal line of his nose, the jawline so sharp it could cut glass, brows furrowed together and tilted slightly downward, and green eyes with pupils blown, darkening them and adding a hint of danger to his expression that sent a jolt of electricity to your core and made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Your hand tentatively flattened itself onto his chest just beneath his collar bones. A muscle in his jaw fluttered at the chill of your firm touch. Curiosity drove you, and you leaned forward, eyes focused on his lips that parted when you stopped your advance so close that you heard his breath hitch in his throat when your thumb caressed the pulse fluttering beneath the closure of his cape.

Sating your sudden intense need to know what the god tasted like, you tilted your head and brushed your lips across his experimentally.

His lips were softer than you expected. His large hands found the dips of your waist and anchored there, not pulling you in or pushing you away, just holding you. You pulled back just enough so that the tip of your nose nudged the length of his, searching his eyes for his reaction. His face was guarded, revealing nothing, but the growing hardness trapped between your bodies said everything his face did not. It cast a spell over you, ridding you of logical thought, removing your intense dislike of him, and you dipped your head to kiss him more thoroughly.

He tasted of the coffee he had on the jet, bitter and sweet, when your tongue darted out to trace his bottom lip. His answering groan rumbled out of him and settled low in your stomach, tightening the muscles there pleasantly. He finally returned the kiss with equal fervor, melding his lips expertly against yours in a languid, teasing dance that did a much more complete job of easing the chill from your bones than a fire would have, and at a faster rate to boot.

Fire blazed in the wake of his caressing fingers as they skimmed from your waist to smooth over your underwear, taking as much of your backside into his hands as he could and grinding you down onto him eagerly. Your tongues tangled together, fighting for dominance in a frenzied battle that you both simultaneously won and lost. Each generous squeeze of his hands into your pliant flesh and stroke of his tongue stole more of your breath.

You were both panting when you finally broke the kiss to press your foreheads together. His eyes were glazed over, heavy-lidded, and his hips bucked into you when you let your fingernails barely scratch along the flexed muscles of his torso to come to a halt just above the hem of his underwear.

“This is a terrible idea,” he whispered hoarsely even as his lips pulled back into a mischievous smile.

“Wouldn’t want me to get hypothermia, would we?” you breathed with a matching grin.

#loki #loki fic #loki x reader #loki fanfic #huddling for warmth #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #implied smut #making out #kissing #partial nudity #language #loki is an asshole #but not a complete asshole #hopelesswrites #chasing his heat

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Midnight dip

This is for the ZoNami event on Tumblr. A huge thank you to Zonamievents, Evilishei and Tali-workshop for organising this.

There’s actually a prequel to this that I have planned, not related to the prompts or event but within the same ‘universe’ at this. I wanted to write that first, but I actually want to post on time for an event for once.

Also, I’m British, so this is going to follow the British education system. It doesn’t’ really matter for this that much though; think it’ll affect the prequel more.

Summary: Because a game of dare or double dare was never going to end well. ZoNami. University AU.  Rating: M. Gets a bit explicit towards the end... 

Can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

@zonamievents

Enjoy!

It had all started as a bit of fun.

It was a late Friday night and they were all huddled in Usopp’s dorm room playing a game of truth or dare spin the bottle. Except the truth option had been thrown out the window immediately. Luffy had stated they’d all been friends long enough to know each other’s darkest truths so it wouldn’t be exciting. Instead it had been changed to dare or double dare spin the bottle.

Foolishly, they’d all agreed.

So far, it had all been fairly childish. Poor Chopper had to drink a glass of salted milk, Luffy had to do the worm across the floor and Sanji was made to trade shirts with Zoro. Something that had sent the whole group into fits, Zoro’s top on Sanji was fine, even if it did drown Sanji and sent him into a fit of rage. But Sanji’s shirt on Zoro? Zoro couldn’t exhale fully after being forced to button it all the way up and even then, the buttons strained, and the sleeves cut into his arms.

And it had carried on that way until the last dare. The mood in the room changed instantly.

Brook had just dared Franky to streak across campus. It was clear between them all that the childish dares were over.

Franky, to his credit, had barely made a fuss and instead took to discussing the technicalities of the dare. It was easy to say Franky wasn’t ashamed of his body, probably a bit too proud of it if anything. Each of them, at one point or another, had walked into Franky strutting about in just his underwear and, in some cases, more than once.

So they all ran to the window and crowded around it to watch from above as Franky stripped off below in the dark and took off across the green. He hollered whilst whipping his underwear around in circles above his head to draw even more attention to himself, not even bothering to cover his privates. Students that were still out jeered and cat called, which only fuelled the PhD student into making even more of a spectacle.

Ten minutes later and they were clapping as he walked through the door. It would be rude not to, Franky had truly gone above and beyond. He laughed and bowed before he sat back down next to Robin.

It was Usopp’s turn to spin the bottle next and everyone fell silent again, jitters filling the air as the bar had just be raised. Nami was trying to will it not to fall on her, she’d already gone earlier in the game and had to hug Sanji. Bless Chopper, his dares weren’t the best, but he’d really tried, and even she knew she’d had an easy pass.

But now. Now she was nervous.

Everyone watched with bated breath as it spun, and her stomach dropped as she watched it slow down, closing in on her. It wobbled and then stopped, aimed at her.

She desperately tried to keep a poker face and pretend to be unbothered that it’d landed on her, but that was hard to do when Usopp had such a vicious twinkle in his eye. She tried to keep calm because really, what could be worse than streaking?

“You have to go skinny dipping,” Usopp said deviously, his face filled with mirth.  

“What?!” She said, appalled at the suggestion.

“And take Zoro, he’s got uncanny luck with this,” Usopp added casually, jabbing his thumb towards the man seated next to her. It was true, so far, the bottle hadn’t landed on Zoro and he hadn’t had to complete a single dare. The top switching had been Sanji’s dare that he’d been dragged into. Even if it still felt like punishment.

“Oi, why am I being dragged into this?” Zoro argued, arms crossed despite the shirt’s protests.

“You’re her boyfriend and you’ll make sure she’ll actually do it.”

“Robin didn’t have to streak with Franky and they’re together!” Nami had no idea why she was trying to wiggle Zoro out of this instead of herself, but it’s really all she had right now.

“Robin’s already had her own dare and Zoro’s a man of his word. He knew the rules upon entering and I have no doubt he’ll see it through.”

Goddamn Usopp’s flawless logic. She was going to strangle him after all of this.

“Also, Zoro’s good for protection,” Robin chimed in. “Late night skinny dipping isn’t safe for a woman alone, unfortunately.”

Zoro frowned at their reasoning and Nami knew he was mulling it over. He was going to cave. That traitor.

Usopp intervened before Nami could protest any further. “Of course, if you don’t want to do that, there’s always the double dare option.” Usopp’s eyes strayed to Sanji as he said that and Nami was flabbergasted at her best friend’s cunning. They’d definitely spent too much time together.

She grit her teeth, knowing she’d run out of options but refused to back down and Usopp met her gaze unwaveringly, the smirk challenging her to take the double dare instead.

The nail in the coffin was when Sanji threw his arm into the air and spoke up, “I volunteer to go with Nami!”

Zoro was on his feet and pulling Nami out of the door before anyone could chime in, Usopp shouting behind them it had to be at least half an hour.

.

.

.

“This is so stupid!” Nami hissed as they walked towards the indoor pool located across campus. It’d be long closed by now, so not only did they have to swim naked but also break in.

“I know, but we agreed to play so we have to see it through,” Zoro said firmly, not budging.

“Come on Zoro, no one will know if we don’t do it. We can just go shower with our clothes on and go back.”

Zoro seemed to contemplate that and for a moment, she thought she’d won him over. It was a good idea after all.

Until, “Franky didn’t get that option.”

So close.

“Franky’s an idiot for not thinking of it!” Even if his dare had been hilarious, it’s not her fault he’s eager to show off his body.

“What are you really worried about?” He was eyeing her critically and she knew she was busted. There was no point lying, he’d see straight through her.

Head low, she murmured under her breath.

He stopped walking and turned to her. “What?”

“It’s embarrassing!” She blurted, face starting to colour at the admission.

Zoro looked confused. “Nami, I’ve seen you naked before. How is this any different?”

That didn’t help the flush on her face. “Because it’s out in the open and what if we get caught?”

“You’re with me, we’re not getting caught and after all the other stupid stuff we’ve done, this isn’t that big.” He caught her hand and pulled slightly to get her to walk again.

It was true though. Their group was notorious around campus for their hijinks, although Nami would argue it’s all Luffy’s fault. Even though she definitely started that fight at the last party they’d thrown.

Zoro sighed. “I’m sure you can weasel your way into charging Usopp for this.”

“Oh! You’re a genius Zoro, you’re absolutely right, I can!” She gave him a swift kiss of the cheek and started skipping, enthused at the idea and now pulling him along instead.

.

.

.

Her enthusiasm died a death when the swimming pool building came into view, but she didn’t have much time to think about it as Zoro hurried her along to the back door of the building. It was a balmy night already but the thought of what she was about to do only made them sweat more.

“This is so stupid,” Nami grumbled under her breath, she gained nothing from this other than humiliation.

“Quit you’re whining and hurry up before we get spotted!” His back towards her and his eye trained on the landscape around them.

She heard the last click and the door slowly creeped open.

They both agreed to keep the lights switched off to avoid drawing attention, the moonlight filtering in through the large glass windows was enough to illuminate the room and the swimming pool twinkled back at them. It would almost be romantic if they hadn’t just broken in and were about to strip naked to fulfil a dare from their stupid friend.

If the atmosphere was awkward when they entered, Zoro either wasn’t aware or paying attention to it as he casually stripped. But Nami was and her eyes tore away from him as he dropped the last piece of clothing on his body, instead trying to focus on the belt around her hips. He’d did it with such ease and yet she was still fully dressed. Somehow that made this even worse.

Behind her, Zoro rolled his eye, taking in the still clothed form of his girlfriend.

“I actually wanted to go to the gym in the morning,” He whispered into her ear, having crept up behind her.

She jumped, but kept her voice level, “No one’s stopping you.”

“You are if you don’t hurry up.” His hands slid over hers, making quick work of her belt and letting it fall to the floor, then moving on to her skirt. “But I have no qualms with helping you.”

Goosebumps erupted along her arms when he said that, his breath hot on her neck and she briefly wondered if he was trying to get her to relax. If he was, it was working as she felt their normal banter coming to the surface.

“Oh, how chivalrous of you,” amusement in her tone as she turned around to face him. Her hands gripped the bottom of her top to pull it over her head and his shortly after found the clasp of her bra to join her top on the floor.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He looked far too pleased with himself and before she could question it, he was bending down, his arms wrapping around her bare legs to heave her up on his shoulder.

“Ready?” And his body was turning towards the pool and she swore when she looked over his shoulder at the pool it twinkled ominously at her.

Oh, god no. She knew exactly what this meant.

“Wait, no, Zoro! Let me down!” She screeched, her hands smacking at his back. She wasn’t worried about him dropping her, but she wanted to do this with some grace at least.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as he started running towards the pool.

“No, Zoro-” She tried again but was cut off by him

“Hold your breath.”

And suddenly he was jumping, his arms tightening around her. She managed to hold her breath just in time as they met the freezing water.

It was only a second underwater before Zoro was pushing them back up to the surface and he adjusted her so that she was no longer hanging over his shoulder.

“You idiot,” she spluttered, her hands furiously trying to push her hair away from her face and keep her balance. She could only imagine how many tangles would be in it after this.

It seemed he hadn’t heard her; his head was thrown back and his laugh echoed around the empty building. No doubt at her bedraggled appearance but she couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with him. They’d both been stressed lately; University was only getter harder as the years went on and it’d been a while since she’d truly seen him so relaxed. But that didn’t mean she’d let him get away with it. She removed one hand from his shoulder to splash water at his face.

“Oi, that went in my mouth!” He’d stopped laughing now, but there was still humour in his voice.

“Serves you right, enjoy chlorine and pee!” It was her turn to laugh at his disgruntled face, but it didn’t last long when a smirk crawled across his face.

Nami didn’t like that look and suddenly she was pushing away from his body to swim away in fear of retribution. She didn’t get far when he caught her foot to drag her back towards him and the room was filled with her giggles as she glided across the water.

The fact that they were naked, in a pool late at night after illegally breaking in slipped from their minds as they started to mess around. Both splashing water at each other, Zoro carrying Nami around the pool on his back and having mini races across the length of the pool, as they completely lost themselves to the moment. They were either unaware or didn’t care that they’d been in the pool well over half an hour.

They calmed down shortly afterwards and as Nami took in the sight of Zoro laid on his back, floating as he looked up at the ceiling, she realised how silly she’d been. What had she even been nervous for? It was Zoro, for god sake. She’d known him for so many years, that of course if he was here it’d be fine.

Following his lead, she turned on her back to float towards the ceiling and somehow managed to bump into him, the water gliding her towards him.

“This is nice,” she said softly, reaching for his hand so she didn’t float away.

“See, told you it’d be okay.” His hand gripped hers back.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy your one moment.” Nami rolled her eyes at him, not that he could see that. “The view’s pretty good too.” And her gaze left the ceiling to flit over his body before coyly smirking at him when he turned to look back at her.

He matched her expression, his gaze tracing a similar path over her body. “Yeah, have to agree with you there,” he responded lowly.

Gone was the serene atmosphere, instead replaced with something heavier when Zoro’s eye flitted down to her lips again but it was Nami who drew in closer to seal their lips together. The angle was slightly awkward, until he stood up to walk closer to her and bring her in. She followed his lead and the new position meant she could slant their lips together and drape her arms over his broad shoulders.

His hands slid along her waist and encouraged her to press even closer until their chests were pressed together. When her tongue swept across his bottom lip, his hands smoothed along her body to her behind and she took the initiative to wrap her legs around his waist.

The new position raised her slightly and when Zoro was finished exploring her mouth, he left her lips to trail kisses down her neck, his teeth nipping along the way. She moaned, her hands threading through his hair to keep him pressed against her neck and ground her hips against him. He groaned back and started walking them towards the shallower section of the pool where he sat her on the edge and stood between her parted legs.

She could feel him hard and pressed up against her thigh and when his thumb brushed against her nipple, she rolled her hips against him.

“Eager?” She could feel him smirking against her neck.

“And you aren’t?” To prove her point, she rolled her hips again and felt the hand clutching at her hip dig in slightly.

One of her hands left his hair to travel between his legs to grip his cock and she nipped at his lip before whispering in his ear, “Come on Zoro, you said it yourself, you don’t have all night.”

That seemed to get him moving. Their next kiss was bruising, lips hurriedly moving against the others as he rolled his hips into hers and just as she was about to say something else, his hand was teasing her lips between her legs. It may not have been exactly what she was after, but it was something. She moaned against his lips and rolled her hips into his fingers, hands pulling at his hair to anchor herself to something.

He groaned back when he felt how wet she was and that seemed to be the thing that pushed him over the edge, his hand moved from between her legs to grab her hips and bring her closer. One hand kept her close whilst he used his other to line himself up with her but suddenly stilled and she groaned in frustration when he didn’t push into her like she expected.

His palm covered her mouth and he was no longer looking at her, looking to the side and concentrated on the sounds around them. She stilled, going stiff at his sudden shift in demeanour and tried to listen for anything new.

In the distance they heard a quiet, “Hello? Is someone here?” and the lights in the corridor leading to the main door to the swimming pool flicked on.

Nami could feel the colour draining from her face as she looked in horror towards the main door.

That threw cold water on the mood.

“Oh shit! Move, move!” Zoro harshly whispered, pushing her legs out of the water before hurriedly pulling himself out of the pool. He was grabbing at her hand to pull her to her feet once he was out and that seemed to get her moving.

They both ran around trying to find their clothes, throwing pieces they’d picked up that weren’t theirs to the other and frantically dressing so they were at least somewhat decent before they went outside. Zoro finished before her and pushed her shaking hands away to finish buttoning up her skirt, throwing her belt over his shoulder.

“Wait, Zoro, where’s my-”

But he didn’t stop to listen, his hands urgently pushing her towards the door they’d come through as he eyed the other door where the lights had just turned on.

They’d just made it outside and up the little hill behind some bushes when the main lights to the pool flicked on, the person walking around inquisitively.

“Zoro-,” Nami whispered next to him.

“Shh, not now. I wonder if they’re going to come out here?” He whispered back, eye trained on the room, watching the person walk around.

“Zoro,” Nami whispered harshly, unamused at being ignored and interrupted, “Give me my underwear.”

That finally caught his attention. He turned to look at her in surprise. “Huh? I don’t have your underwear?”

“What?! But I saw you pick up something?”

And Zoro raised his hand to show his own underwear, not hers.

“Then…If you don’t have it…”

And their heads snapped back to watch the person cautiously walking around the swimming pool and stopped at the small pile of fabric on the floor.

Nami’s underwear.

The person poked at it and as soon as they identified what it was, shook their head and pinched it between their fingers before dumping it into the bin.

“That was my nicest pair, I have a matching bra!” Nami bemoaned and briefly, she wondered if she’d be able to break in again to steal it back.

“There’s no way you’re going back for them.” Damn it, Zoro knew her too well.

“You owe me a new thong! You have no idea how expensive that was,” Nami said venomously.

“You can’t be serious? How is this my fault?” He argued back.

“Had enough time to pick up your underwear I see?” She raised an eyebrow at the boxers in his hands. The absolute insult, they were so cheap and came from the supermarket. Honestly, he had no taste.

He spluttered back at her. “You didn’t say anything!”

“I tried to, but you pushed me.”

“Did you want to get caught standing commando discussing your underwear?”

Nami huffed but had to admit he was right. Begrudgingly.

“Let’s go, I’m getting a draft,” Nami sighed, mourning the loss, there was no getting them back now.

He barked a laugh behind her but followed, keeping low until they were far away from the building and on their way back to her dorm room. The game of dare or double dare long forgotten.

The next day, no one mentioned the email the whole student body received, warning them all about the repercussions of breaking into locked buildings or having private swimming lessons late at night.

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

Nothing brings me more joy than cockblocking my OTPs and pretending security cameras don’t exist.

Please excuse any mistakes.

Thanks for reading.

#ZoNamiWeek2020 #ZoNami #ZoNa #Swordgust #ZoroNami #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #Zoro #Nami

[hobbledhobbit]

Paint and Patience

Another part of the tales of the Institute Green. This one following the Illustrator, Ms. Steam. .

A puff of smoke dissipated after swirling and distorting the stars it hovered in front of.

"Fear is strange. Was there any reason not to have it that you can be certain of?"

"For myself?"

"No, of course not." The pale man made a vague gesture into the building from their spot on the balcony. "Their fear."

He took another deep drag, awaiting her answer.

"All mortals have fear, Mr. Pale. The end always looms like the back cover."

He contemplated, letting his gaze take in the curvy and soft form of his coworker. She liked her candy striper outfit most of all and it let the inviting roundness of her form offer refuge in the form of a vast change in scenery from the black iron and gold speckled dark wood of their world.

"That's what I had figured too. But the fear is on all aspects. They love, there's fear; they succeed, there's fear; they give up...you get the idea."

Ms. Steam gave an amused hum before turning to him fully. "They are yellow. Maybe it's not the fear that gives you pause when dealing with them?"

Ms. Steam took the spent cigarette out of his hand and flicked it over the railing. He had a nasty habit of burning the filter when he was lost in thought. The smell was never pleasant. 

Mr. Pale was slender and ordinary, his overall countenance being somewhat "beige", though his eyes held a sharp intelligence and his tongue a wicked wit. 

Ms. Steam liked talking to the scrivener, he was always agitated over their charges and the conditions in which they were formed. The illustrator had an idea that it may be his only way to show his caring side for anything.

"I believe you're right," he finally said, "I am more enraged by those who live without that...I guess it would be more a concern for the welfare of others than fear…"

"Compassion?"

"Compassion! Yes, thank you. Those that lack compassion for others and make grand swathes of suffering. They hold my ire."

"Had one recently that's got you in this tizzy?"

"No. It'll be later this evening. I would feel bile rising in my throat if I had the capability. I taste the lies and excuses on my tongue and moving through my fingertips to take the last vestiges of their existence to print." 

His voice grew ever darker, as he mimicked typing on his typewriter, his hands looking suddenly more large and sharp, his plain face gaining sharp edges and wider eyes, his teeth sharpening and slowly multiplying.

"Sickening, wretched filth!" He gurgled out.

Ms. Steam shrugged, unbothered. "We are only the record keepers. No need to grow attached."

He cleared his throat and fixed his appearance, brushing his blond hair back and suddenly looking more to his normal human-like form. 

"We aren't machines, Ms. Steam. Every monster we document can feed our own monstrous nature, teach us our own excuses for screwing over other lives."

"What do you suppose we do for it then? Become judges for life forms that are under our care?"

"Teachers. I think the Evil need to be taught a lesson. We should make an example."

Ms. Steam waited for Mr. Pale to continue, but it was obvious from the way his eyes darted around in his head that the idea was still cooking. 

She pat his head and made him look her in the eye.

"When you figure it out, set it up. I'm in thorough need of distraction. But for now, we must tend to our duties."

He gave a small nod and a tight lipped smile. It was no secret that he disliked his job, but he was the best at it.

She took her leave, walking in from the cold of outside to the warm hallway. Her shoes were almost silent upon the hard wood. The reflection of the candy striper outfit was blurred for a moment in the polished floor before it showed Ms. Steam in a plain, floral, flowy dress. She used the key around her neck to unlock her office door and step in. 

The yellow glow of the human soul took a moment to take shape. Young and small.

"Sorry for being late," she smiled, "Are you ready for your portrait?"

The 'studio' was large. The ceiling was high and vaulted, the floor had many different colors and textures that one couldn't tell if it was made of dirt, marble, wood, or any of the other things floors are usually made of. There looked to be all sorts of settings along the long wall. Beaches to mansions, forests to kitchenettes, mountains to dumpsters.

The girl looked to be a little younger than a teenager. Short dark hair and brown eyes, sun-kissed skin and a strong jaw.  She was in night clothes and looked overwhelmed, looking around from her seat on a fainting chair.

Ms. Steam went to her large desk and picked up some materials. She loaded a small tray with chalk pastels and paint. 

"Take your time," she said to the girl, then paused giving her an understanding and patient look. "Tell me what you think is happening. This fear will go away soon, I promise."

"He killed Mom. I went to go hide my little sisters, but I guess he killed me too." She started to cry in earnest. "They're probably so scared. I don't know what to do! There's nothing I can do! I'm dead!" 

She sobbed and screamed her dismay while Ms. Steam set up the easel near a beach setting.

"Angels are supposed to help the innocent!" The girl accused from her seat. She smacked her bare feet against the ground and stomped over to Ms. Steam. "You're supposed to protect us and God's supposed to deliver us from evil!"

"Deliver you where?" Ms. Steam turned to the girl, eyebrow slightly raised. She felt it wouldn't be the best option to tell the girl she wasn't an angel.

The girl's righteous fury was snuffed out by the calm of the question. She looked lost and on the verge of more tears. 

"I-I don't know. If you're good, evil isn't supposed to happen to you." She sniffled, "And you're supposed to get rewarded for being good."

Ms. Steam sat on a stool to look the girl in the eye and wipe her tears with her skirt. 

"I'm sorry, little one. The universe doesn't do good or evil. That's a human thing. Kind or cruel are choices people make."

Ms. Steam offered a hug to the child, who was falling apart again in tears. She accepted the hug, was wrapped in strong arms, and felt light as a cloud.

"The nightmare is over. I know it's scary to not know what comes next. But even your choices mattered so much at the end."

The girl was hiccupping through her sobs, clinging tightly to Ms. Steam. "They're so-s-so little and he's gonna hurt them!"

Ms. Steam rocked her lightly and pet her hair. "I know...what if I brought them here? Would you feel better knowing where they are? They would probably like to know where you are too."

Fear stabbed through the girl and she looked at Ms. Steam. "He killed them too?!"

"Long ago already. They're in my queue."

"What's going to happen?"

"I'm going to paint your picture of what you want to be remembered forever as. You're a good older sister. Brave, just, and with so much love in your heart that your last moments were thinking of nothing but protecting others. Rewards aren't in my job description, but I think that I could work one up for you."

"Holly!" Called two little voices from the fainting couch.

The girl turned and let go of Ms. Steam, running to the two blonde children running towards her in their pajamas. 

"Katie! Kathy!" She called to the twins, hugging them tight to her and hurrying her face in their disheveled blonde curls. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" asked Kathy.

"Why are you sad?" asked Katie.

Before Holly could answer, they both noticed the beach and dragged Holly towards it. 

Holly noticed that they were all in their bathing suits, and the studio had faded away entirely-there was only the beach then. She saw Ms. Steam still standing there, starting to work on the canvas in front of her. She gave Holly a wink before going back to her work.

Holly looked at her sisters who were already splashing in the water and got to playing with them. They built sand castles and played in the water together. The sun didn't bother any of them much, and they felt full and content. 

Ms. Steam stepped back from her work, looking at the picture of Holly pulling her sisters through the water as the little ones kicked up a spray behind them.

The twins looked caught in a moment of trust and fun as Holly tried to teach them to swim.

The studio had phased back to its normal state, the girls now residing as the artwork. Ms.Steam added a single small cloud in the distance as her signature and bowed low at the piece. 

"Thank you for the opportunity," she said.

When she stood back up, the canvas had a frame of glittering gold. She took it and wrapped it in plain brown paper before placing it in an adjacent room for delivery.

Ms. Steam dealt more with children and those that didn't have a command over their language. She found that younger children were more accepting of their fates than older ones. Responsibility and shame hadn't really had a chance to stick in yet and make them second guess everything.

She went about putting away her supplies and let out a sigh. She placed the last brush behind her ear and exited her studio. So long as her things weren’t all in place, the next soul wouldn’t show up. 

The door she approached was labeled “Mr. Slow: Security” on a gold plaque. She knocked and entered, finding the large form of her colleague sitting at his desk, shining his shoes. He looked up boredly, eyes crinkling at the side once he recognized his visitor. 

“Ms. Steam. What an unexpected and fun surprise. What brings you to my office?” His voice was deep and had an edge of threat to it. Unfortunately for Mr. Slow, she had taken the centuries to become immune to his specific charm. 

“Mischief brings me here, Bacchus.  Do you intend on participating or trying to subdue?” She leaned on the doorway, pushing her hair behind an ear. “I do so hate to lose out on the fun because someone had to distract you.”

Mr. Slow sat up and put his hands on his desk. “So long as the mischief isn’t brought to these halls, there’s no reason for us to tussle. I do have a feeling that I will be having to teach Mr. Pale a lesson later today, but that won’t likely interfere.”

This was met with an amused hum. She covered her mouth to feign hiding a smile, “I am starting to think Bartleby likes your teaching method. You boys and your roughhousing.”

Mr. Slow went back to shining his shoes, “I’ve been informed, Ms. Steam. Go back to your room. The day isn’t out yet, no matter how many clients you put in a single frame. Only the frame counts.”

“Pushy,” she teased, straightening herself out. “I’ll see you at the diner afterwards, Mr. Slow.”

The door closed, leaving Mr. Slow alone. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the conversation he had overheard on the balcony during his rounds. Redirecting fear could be a fun way to spend an afternoon.

#inkwell writes #Institute Green #Afterlife and those who work the shifts #Ms. Steam #Mr. Pale #Mr. Slow

[aconstellationofmemories]

White Valentine

Written in conjunction of the Gruvia Discord server's Fic Exchange event for @adramaticbeauty. See notes below.

AO3

__________________

Chirp chirp chirp.

The successive repetition of the birds’ song slowly filtered into Juvia’s sleep-fogged mind. Her eyelids fluttered open to be greeted by the sight of clear blue skies outside her window. A flock of birds swiftly flew past as they chirped on their way to seek sustenance.

Juvia smiled sleepily as she basked in the beauty and blessing of another day alive. Gone were the days of grey skies and endless pouring rain. Thanks to Gray – and Fairy Tail, too – every day was a sunny one, a joy to be alive, a reason to celebrate.

Rising from the bed, she slipped into a pair of fuzzy slippers and opened her daily planner on the side-table. Red circles framed every date of the month, signifying the anniversaries she had with Gray-sama. Although they occurred every day, they were no less important to Juvia. After all, he chased away the rain and introduced her to sunny days. Juvia would never appreciate them less because they happened every day, not when she knew how dire and miserable life would be without them.

Today, however, was especially special – not only was it their 534th anniversary, but it was also White Valentine! It was tradition for guys to gift chocolate to the women they like. So for Juvia, that could only mean one thing...

“Will Gray-sama give Juvia a chocolate too?!”

In her mind, Imaginary Gray coolly presented a box of chocolate to her. He stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she covered her mouth in disbelief. Could this be the day Gray-sama confesses his love...?! “I like you, Juvia. I want to live with you for the rest of my life.”

Imaginary Juvia gasped. “Gray-sama...”

“Will you marry me, Juvia?”

“Yes, Gray-sama!”

Imaginary Gray gently cradled her face in his hands and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips got closer, closer, until they were merely an inch apart...

“Ahhhhh!” Her squeal shattered the romantic scene.

She cupped her crimson cheeks in her hands. She was hyperventilating just at the thought of it. When Gray actually did it in real life, she was afraid she would swoon. But if she swooned, she would miss the action!

“Juvia can’t faint! She would miss Gray-sama’s romantic confession of love! Juvia must be prepared! She has to look good!”

Thus, wasting no time, she hurried into the bathroom to get ready for the special day.

__________________

“Good morning, Gray-sama!” she greeted him at the side of the table he was seated at.

“Morning, Juvia,” he said, sounding less enthusiastic.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” she said, subtly referring it to White Valentine.

“I guess so.”

Hmm, Gray-sama doesn’t acknowledge the day. Maybe Gray-sama wants to keep it a surprise?!

Juvia bit her lips to contain her bubbling enthusiasm. She couldn’t give anything away just yet. If he wanted to keep it a surprise, she would play along with him. Sliding into the bench, she settled in beside him with little distance between them.

“Oi, why are you sitting so close to me?” He inched to the right to put some space between them.

She instantly covered the gap he made between them. “Juvia wants to be close to Gray-sama.”

“Do you have to be sitting right next me?” he complained.

Unbothered by his complaint, she clutched his left arm and snuggled into him. His body was stiff, but he didn’t move away. Juvia saw that as a win. “Juvia missed Gray-sama.”

“We just saw each other yesterday,” Gray pointed out.

“Juvia has been apart from Gray-sama for too long.”

“Quit being lovebirds and get a room,” Gajeel’s gruff voice interrupted them from the table next door. His head was partially hidden behind the large brown book titled “Cats” in his hands.

“We weren’t!” Gray exclaimed. The ice mage smirked when his gaze took in the unlikely sight of a book in Gajeel’s hands. “I didn’t know you read,” he mocked.

“Unlike you, I’m expanding my knowledge,” Gajeel said, not averting his gaze from the book.

“Gajeel-kun is reading more these days,” Juvia observed.

“I think looking cat photographs can hardly be considered “reading”,” Levy said from opposite Gajeel. She sighed. “I don’t know if I should be jealous of the felines.”

“Even your girlfriend agrees with me,” Gray snickered.

“What did ya say?!” Gajeel slammed the book on the table and rose from the bench. He pinned a hard stare on Gray.

“Wanna go at it?” Gray calmly countered, unintimidated.

“Oh?! There’s a fight?!” Natsu excitedly joined them out of nowhere.

Gajeel launched the first move by throwing a punch to Gray’s face. Gray dodged it easily and attacked with his own punch. Gajeel deflected it by blocking with his forearm. Natsu seized the opportunity to ambush him with a flaming punch from his left. Gray, in turn, landed an uppercut to Natsu. The fight had quickly escalated with them fighting one another. There was a flurry of movement as they exchanged attacks. 

“Go, Gray-sama!” Juvia cheered.

Lucy sighed from her table on the right. “Why are you urging them on, Juvia?”

Levy simply shook her head at the meaningless brawl. She picked up the “Cats” book Gajeel left and started reading it herself.

“Now, now,” Mira interrupted, coming over with a tray of in both hands. “How about you guys eat fir–” A flying mug struck her head, and down she fell.

All activities suddenly halted.

Even Gajeel, Natsu and Gray abruptly stopped their brawl as they witnessed her falling to the ground in slow-motion with wide horrified eyes.

A collective gasp echoed throughout the guild, replaced a moment later by an eerie silence. The silence was then followed by something even more terrifying – the static buzz of electricity.

Laxus.

The lightning dragonslayer stared down harshly at Natsu and Gray, who were hugging each other for dear life. Gajeel was nowhere to be seen. “W-we are sorry!” the duo desperately begged for forgiveness.

A bolt of lightning struck them mercilessly. The duo’s bodies twitched involuntarily from the jolt of electricity. Burnt to a crisp, the blackened duo faltered soullessly before they collapsed to the ground. Carrying the fallen Mira in his arms, Laxus wordlessly left the scene. He strode to the second floor, his heavy fur coat fluttering in the air behind him.

Once he disappeared into the second floor, all activities resumed from where they were paused. “Gray-sama!” Juvia rushed to him. Like Natsu, Gray’s eyes were unfocused on his surroundings. Lucy helped Natsu to sit up as Wendy casted her healing powers on him. “You two asked for it,” Lucy sighed.

Once Natsu was mostly healed up, Wendy moved on to cure Gray. Natsu glared angrily at him. “If it wasn’t because of you, I could have won!” Lucy whacked his head. “Ow! What was that for, Lucy?”

“That’s the first thing you say?!” she scolded him.

Even though Gray wasn’t healed up yet, Natsu’s comment ignited his spirit. “It was your stupid arse that sent the bloody mug flying!”

“You saying it’s because of me?!”

“Yeah, who else, idiot?”

“What did you just call me, you arsehole?”

“I called you an idiot, so what?”

Just as Natsu prepared to go for another round, Lucy shouted at the both of them. “That’s enough!”

Both of them breathing heavily, the duo barely controlled their anger and turned away from the other.

“The iron bastard fled his scaredy arse as soon as he saw Laxus,” Gray snickered.

“The bastard,” Natsu echoed, gritting his teeth.

“You guys are lucky Erza is away,” Lucy reminded them.

“Are you okay, Gray-sama?” Juvia asked worriedly beside him.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be healed up in just a bit,” Wendy assured her.

__________________

An hour later, it was as though nothing had happened. The only evidence left behind was the destruction mark from Laxus’ lightning.

Having regained consciousness not long ago, Mira assumed her barmaid duties again. Despite what happened earlier, she served their lunch with a bright smile on her face. Gray appeared apprehensive as she placed the plates on the table. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m all right. It was just an accident,” Mira reassured him. “Don’t forget,” she added cheerfully before she moved to Lucy and Natsu’s table.

Confused by her reminder, Juvia glanced at Gray. “What did Mira-san mean, Gray-sama?”

“Uhh,” he thought about it for a moment. “It’s not important. Let’s just eat.”

Juvia furrowed her brows in puzzlement. Not wanting to push it yet, she dug right in to her meal with Gray. She scooped up some of her food and offered the spoon to Gray. “Here, Gray-sama, ahhh.”

He hesitated, glanced at her, then awkwardly accepted the spoon. “That’s enough,” he said firmly.

Juvia smiled, satisfied that he ate from her spoon. “Gray-sama’s lips touched Juvia’s spoon!” she swooned. “We had our first kiss with this spoon!”

“The hell we did!” Gray appeared uncomfortable by the notion. “If you’re gonna see it that way, then you’ve kissed everyone in the guild,” he said, smirking.

“Juveen!” she exclaimed, horrified by the prospect. “Th-that means...Juvia doesn’t know who she gave her first kiss to?!”

“I don’t even know mine,” Gray said nonchalantly, taking another scoop of his food.

Juvia began to sob. “Juvia couldn’t give hers to Gray-sama, and Juvia lost Gray-sama’s first kiss to a stranger.” Gray’s smirk grew wider at her reaction.

__________________

A few hours had trickled by painfully slowly.

Gray had yet to made a move.

Juvia bit her lips nervously. After his brawl with Natsu and Gajeel earlier, he had kept to himself with his drink. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Nope, Juvia definitely wasn’t losing hope. Not at all. That wasn’t the reason why she kept not-so-discreetly glancing his way or why she couldn’t sit still. She was just full of energy, as always, and the energy leaks caused her to be jittery. That’s all.

“Oi, Lucy!” Natsu called out loudly as he strode over to where Lucy sat at a table. Along with Happy, they had gone out without telling anyone what they were up to. She glanced up from the Sorcerer Magazine she was reading. “Oh, Natsu. You’re back.”

Flying over to the table, Happy landed on top and took out something from his rear green pouch. His tiny paws offered a blue salmon fish tied with a red bow to Lucy. A single ‘X’ dotted the fish’s pair of eyes while its mouth was open agape in its dead state. “I got you fish for White Valentine!” Happy said, proud of his ‘gift’.

“You...got me a dead fish for White Valentine?” Lucy warily asked the blue Exceed.

“Aye! Fish is delicious,” Happy replied, missing the uncertainty in Lucy’s tone. “I’m so tempted to eat it right now...” The blue cat started to drool as his hungry eyes devoured the fish in his paws.

“Why don’t you have it then?” Lucy suggested with a grin.

“R-really?!” The celestial mage nodded. Overcome by hunger, Happy began munching on the fish there and then with a blissful look on his face. Lucy smiled sympathetically at him. “You should have eaten first,” she said, some guilt lacing her tone.

“Hey, Lucy! I got something for you too.” Without any hesitation, Natsu coolly offered her a...burnt rectangular box with tattered edges. There were hints of red on the box, but most of the shade had been transformed to a rusty brown from presumably Natsu’s fire.

The celestial mage carefully accepting the burnt gift, as though afraid it’d disintegrate any moment. “I want to say thank you but...what is this?” Lucy asked.

“Can’t you see? It’s a box!” Natsu cheerily told her.

“I know it’s a box, you idiot! Why is it burnt?”

“Oh, that well...” Natsu said, scratching his head. “There were some bad guys on the way back...”

“Pffft. You chased away the boys who wanted to pass Lucy their chocolates,” Happy snitched on his best friend. His revelation caused her to blush.

“Oi, Happy!” Natsu scolded the mischievous cat. “I kicked their ass because they picked a fight with me!”

“Sureee,” Happy drawled out teasingly.

“You!” Natsu was barely holding back his annoyance.

“Well...thank you, I guess,” Lucy said shyly.

“Lucy is blushing,” Happy teased her this time.

She immediately glared at the sly cat. “Shut up.” Happy tried to hide his giggles by covering his mouth with his paws.

Lucy’s eyes sharpened as she regarded them suspiciously. “Why are the two of you suddenly giving me gifts on White Valentine?” she questioned. “What trouble have you gotten into?”

Natsu raised a hand to the back of his head and tried to laugh it off. “Geez, Lucy, why do you think I’ve gotten into trouble when I get you stuff?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Something is fishy,” she said, before rushing to add, “and it’s not the damn fish!”

Happy was stunned by her words, his mouth open in disbelief. It looked like his soul had left his body. “How can you say that, Lucy?” he said, hurt by her comment.

“Wait,” Lucy said, grasping something. “Did you burn my manuscripts?! That’s why you’re trying to make up for it by giving me chocolate?!”

“Huh? No!” Natsu sounded confused. “I only read a couple pages–”

“So you admit you looked at them without my permission! I told you not to!”

“My curiosity was killing me! I needed to know what happened to Prince Colton–” Lucy hurriedly covered his mouth before he could leak anymore details of the story. “Shut up!”

“Mhmph!” Natsu tried to speak against her hands.

So Lucy received her chocolate.

Juvia dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap. She felt happy for Lucy, truly, even though she sometimes teased the celestial mage for being her love rival. However, the lack of action from Gray was weighing down on her spirits.

Maybe Gray-sama doesn’t care as much as Juvia thought...

When she lifted her head, she caught Gajeel smirking down at a furiously blushing Levy. In her hand was a chocolate bar wrapped in dark grey paper. She made a motion with her free hand to ask Gajeel to lean closer. He did as instructed, bending down his head. She leaned in to whisper into his ear, only to stop halfway and peck him on the cheek instead.

Juvia rubbed her comically large eyes – she thought she saw Gajeel blushing. No, it was her eyes playing tricks on her...

Coming back to the present, Juvia sighed deeply. Even Levy had received her chocolate. Gray was taking a while...

But that’s okay. She was patient – she could wait...

...and wait...

The waiting stretched out longer than she thought...

...till dusk had fallen and he still hadn’t made a move.

Why was she doing this to herself? She knew Gray wasn’t one for romantic gestures, thus it was unlikely he even realised what day it was. Yet, her heart hopelessly clung onto the hope that he would know.

That this time, he would do something for her.

She was wrong, and it hurt.

It was her fault for putting her faith on something that didn’t exist in the first place.

“Juvia doesn’t feel well. She wants to retire,” she told Gray beside her, standing up from the bench.

“You were fine in the day,” Gray stated, puzzled.

“Juvia must be coming down with a cold,” she said, depressed. “Good night, Gray-sama.”

“Good night, Juvia,” he returned, still confused.

Without looking back at him, Juvia left the guild and trudged backnto Fairy Hills with tears in her eyes.

__________________

Juvia opened the door to her darkened room and switched on the lights. Feeling both mentally and physically tired, she took off her hat and passed by the living room on the way to her bathroom. Her footsteps halted, then U-turned back to the living room.

She thought she saw a foreign object...

True enough, as she approached her coffee table, she caught sight of a rectangular sapphire box with snowflake pattern sitting in the centre. Hope bloomed in her chest. “Could it be?” she whispered softly, afraid if she spoke louder, this would just be a dream.

Carefully picking it up, she opened the lid to a delightful surprise of individual round chocolates wrapped in gold foil. The box didn’t specify its sender, but it didn’t need to.

If the snowflakes weren’t clear enough, there was only one person who was shy about affectionate gestures – so much so that he had to sneak into her room when she was out to give her this box. Her room was filled with said person.

Juvia thought she was proven wrong. She was – just not in the way she expected. Only this time, her heart wasn’t hurting but soaring with happiness.

Gazing fondly at the chocolates, Juvia smiled softly. She unwrapped one of the chocolates and brought it into her mouth, slowly chewing the cocoa goodness. It melted satisfyingly within seconds. Juvia savoured the fleeting delicious taste before it made its way down her throat.

“It’s sweet,” Juvia said, smiling.

Half an hour later, after she had showered, she turned off the lights and tucked herself into bed. Her night lamp cast a soft glow on the Gray doll which faced her with a small smile on her side-table.

She smiled contentedly. “Good night, Gray-sama. Juvia had a great day.” She reached over to kiss him on the cheek, then pulled out the plug to flood the room with darkness.

__________________

“I can’t believe you didn’t get Juvia anything today,” Lucy said to Gray. He sat beside her at the bar, a mug of ale in front of him. Mira was wiping the glasses and plates on the other side.

“Who said I didn’t? You just didn’t see it,” Gray told her.

Lucy stared at him in disbelief. “If you had given her something, she wouldn’t have left the guild looking so depressed.”

Gray sighed. “I left it in her room.”

“So you actually got her something?!” Lucy was surprised.

“Yeah.” Gray fixed his gaze on Mira. “Mira over here threatened to beat my arse if I didn’t.”

“Don’t think I forgot what you did earlier,” Laxus told Gray in warning from the corner he was seated at. The ice mage immediately glanced away from Mira. The barmaid smiled sweetly at him. “Good job. Thank you, Gray.”

“How did you even get in?” Lucy asked.

Gray smirked. He proudly showed the solid ice key he kept in his pocket. “I made a copy.”

“But you couldn’t have given it to her like a man? Really, Gray?” Lucy teased him.

Gray tsked and drank his ale. “She would be clingy as hell if I’d done that.”

“I was starting to think you liked her sticking by your side,” Lucy said playfully.

“Did the Natsu get you anything?” Gray diverted the attention away from him.

This time it was Lucy’s turn to sigh. “If raw fish and burnt chocolate counts, then yes.”

Gray snickered. “The idiot.” Pulling his elbows away from the bar counter, Gray rose from his stool. “I’m tired. See ya.” Not waiting for their reply, he lifted his hand in a wave and sauntered away with his hands in his pockets.

Lucy yawned after he left. “I think I’m going to bed too. Good night, Mira-san,” she said, waving more enthusiastically than Gray.

With the departure of Gray and Lucy, only Mira and Laxus were left in guild. It was a common occurrence for the lightning dragonslayer to stay behind whenever he was in town.

“So am I not getting any chocolate, Laxus?” Mira asked him with a deceivingly innocent smile. She sighed dramatically. “Poor me. I arranged for Lucy and Juvia to receive chocolate from their shy men. Meanwhile, I’m left with nothing.”

Laxus flicked an annoyed glance at her. Reaching inside his fur coat, he retrieved a purple box and set it in the counter. “Women are so difficult,” he muttered.

“What did you say, Laxus? I didn’t quite catch it,” Mira asked calmly as she opened the box.

“Nothing,” was his gruff denial.

She brought a piece of round white chocolate into her mouth. Her jaw moved slightly from side to side as she tasted the chocolate. “It’s quite bitter,” she said while chewing.

Laxus seemed a little confused by her comment. “What do you mean it’s bitter? It’s white chocolate.”

“I’m telling you it’s bitter.” Pressing her palms onto the counter for balance, Mira leaned closer to his face. “But I know how to make it sweeter.” His gaze dropped to her chocolate-stained lips. Going in for her target, she tilted her head and captured his lips for a kiss.

Just as he was immersing into the action, she pulled back with a smirk. “It’s sweeter now,” she licked her lips.

“I need to taste it for myself.” Laxus’ hand wrapped around the back of her head and drew her to him for an encore.

Fin.

__________________

A/N: First of all, I hope you at least enjoyed the words I've squeezed out from my braincells, Liyah! Of course, I couldn't pull the GrayLu banter as well as you. Merry Christmas!

This is my first time writing NaLu and having so many characters in a single fanfic. I hope I'll be confident to write NaLu again in the near future! 

Fun fact: once again, I broke the record for my longest fanfic in my second time writing for @adramaticbeauty. Please don't tell me my next fanfic gift will be 5k, haha.

#gruvia #NaLu #miraxus #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #laxus dreyar #mirajane strauss #fairy tail #my fanfic #fluff #light angst #my longest fanfic so far

[musutofu]

【 Captivating 】 Drabble

♡ pairing | ᵞᴬᴺᴰᴱᴿᴱ Midoriya x ᵍⁿ Reader ✑ word count | 1.4k ✎ genre | yandere ✗ warnings | kidnapping, blood prompt | 11. “So... do you want your underwear back?”

The air has a frigid snap to it, something sharp that cuts through the border between fall and winter; one still not willing to part in favor of the other. It doesn’t help that the only window in the room is cracked beyond repair. Neglect has turned the clear transparency opaque, a film of grime having settled on the glass so the light has to claw through the cracks that run like veins through the windowpane. Even the light seems repulsed, the very milky light of the moon fading to the dullest of glows as it filters through the dirty glass. The faint light that succeed only work to outline the faintest of silhouettes. There’s a putrid scent of dilapidation, unseen evidence of the neglect that’s visibly twirling through the slanting beams of light like a thousand snowflakes. Dust and dander swim on the ocean waves rippling off the figure shivering in the near darkness, chains rattling with every movement. It sounds like a symphony of bells all screaming out and clamoring for attention as you strain hard against the Quirk erasing cuffs and chains binding you to the wall. The chain is only held by a rusting loop stabbed between two bricks in the crumbling wall. There’s a distinct scratching sound above all the hubbub of chains and it sounds like freedom as the loop in the wall begins to grate against the weak mortar. The chipping stones bite into the bare soles of your feet as you turn to press against the wall, leaning away from it with all your weight. Your shoulders ache and your wrists feel like they’ve caught fire but the alternative to freedom is far less desirable than a few wounds to heal. With a thundering crack the wall gives out, bricks bursting from the seams of mortar and blowing up a plume of dust as they land around you. Your wrists scream as you land, blood pooling beneath your hands as you stop yourself from fully touching the cold cement floor. Unbothered by the blood you pull the gag over your head and unfurl your shirt. It’s mercifully long enough to cover your lower extremities but bonds the chain across your chest as it runs down both your arms. It’s still a step up from being bound to a wall and you take full advantage, picking up a brick and smashing the dirty window. Tiny shards skitter across your skin on their way to the floor. More catch in the skin of your hand as you knock the remaining pieces out of the frame. An unfiltered gust of wind rushes into the room along with a beam of light and for a moment you pause to breathe, breath hanging like white clouds in the air as you stare into the night. It’s the first time you’ve seen the sky in weeks and the sight of the moon and stars is enough to give you pause, then turn you manic as you jump to grab the window frame, brick still in hand and toes scraping against the wall as you climb your way out of the tiny window. The glass shards in your hand pop free as your tendons strain with the feat, pearls of blood joining the ribbons of blood already dripping from your wrists. The crimson rivers turn to ice water as the frigid night air fully envelops you. Wind wails through the air, whistling in and out of the destroyed buildings sagging into the ground around you. The ground is uninviting against your bleeding feet as you stumble through the ruins left by a villain attack. It had happened a few weeks ago. Shortly before he kidnapped you. Did he think himself romantic holding you captive in the place you’d met? It doesn’t matter what he thought he’d been doing. Now that you’re out and know where you are you can get back to safety, to society. A few blocks ahead you can see the yellow glow of street lights and hear the blare of a car horn carried by the wind. It’s a promising sound and you lurch forward to follow it. Slowly at first, as if in a trance, then faster when you remember he could return at any moment. And he does just as you’ve pasted the last building, materializing from the air in a flurry of green lightning that makes you think he’d been watching you this whole time. Waiting and wondering how far you’d get. Apparently too far for his liking as he stands from his landing, stalking towards you like a predator cornering it’s prey. Not bothering to think about consequences you reel back your conjoined hands and toss the brick you’d kept in hand. You’d thrown it with intent to hit him in the head but it arched lower, still not landing a hit as he simply catches it before crushing it to rubble in his fist. His face is patient, eyes empty of malice as he continues to close in on you. Deciding you’d rather be caught and crushed than backed into the same corner you’ve been in for weeks you bolt to the side, not to safety but away from him. He catches you by the back of your shirt and the chain beneath it snags on your neck, cold metal crushing your throat. He loosens his hold as you gag, turning you in his arms to assess the damage. His proximity offer an opportunity. It’s a cheap blow but you’re far beyond caring as you drive your knee upwards to catch him between the legs only for him to catch it and wrap your leg around his hip, pulling you into his chest. The feeling of you pressed so tightly against him seems to stir something inside him and his hero costume seems to tighten against your stomach. The ground suddenly disappears from beneath your toes as your other leg is wrapped around him until he’s holding you. “I hadn’t expected you to take a brick with you once you got out seeing as they’re plenty of rocks laying around out here but it would have cost you some time to stop and pick one up so I suppose that was a logical decision. I didn’t expect you to move so slow once you got outside thought, but you must’ve been in shock after being isolated so that can be forgiven. And you figured out where you were quite easily and headed in the right direction to get help.” He keeps muttering. Quieter, just to himself as he paces, still holding you on one hip. “Either way I’m proud of you!” “Deku.” it’s the first time you’ve said his name since that first night and his smile falters in shock before brightening to the point that it looks like his freckles cheeks might split. “Yes, honey?” “Can you not hold me like this?” It’s not what you want to say. You want to scream at him, fight him, demand to know what he thought he was doing with you. But the fact that you’re naked below the belt and he’s holding you in such a way that demands that your legs stay spread is what’s bothering you most presently. A bashful blush flares up on the hero’s cheeks as he sets you down momentarily only to knock your legs out from under you to carry you with his arms under your back and knees. “So… do you want your underwear back?” He asks. “I’ve been carrying them around with me for good luck but I’ll just take them off again when we get home.” “Home?” You’re less concerned with him toting around your underwear like a trophy. Perhaps you’d thought he’d let you go now that you were free. After all you’re not a nobody. You’re a hero! People have surely noticed your absence. “Well, yeah. I can’t have you going back to that apartment you used to live in. It’s already been emptied out and I moved all your stuff into my apartment. Your landlord didn’t even question why I wanted everything, but I guess he assumed we were dating. Poor guy was so worked up talking about how sweet you always were to him and how the world lost a great hero. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear you’re alive. Everyone will be.” “You told everyone I was dead after you kidnapped me?” You’re squirming now, finally remembering the man holding you isn’t the kind and bashful hero Deku but the maniac who kidnapped you and held you captive for weeks. “No, you were pronounced dead after no one could find your body after the villain attack.” “Because you kidnapped me!” “Don’t think of if like that.” He frowns. “I’m just nursing my darling back to health after a terrible villain attack almost took you from me.” He bolts into the air before you can say anything and you can only hope he drops you before reaching your next destination.

#midoriya #midoriya izuku #mha midoriya #bnha midoriya #mha izuku #bnha izuku #midoriya x reader #midoriya scenario #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[love-and-monsters]

Alien Encounter Pt. 8: Nighttime Talk

I woke up to the sound of rain drumming on the roof. The only things I could tell were that it was still dark out, so it was still night, and that Valain wasn’t there

My heart leaped into my throat and I scrambled to my feet. Where’d he go? He was there when I’d gone to sleep, right? Had he just stepped out or had something happened to him?

There was a quiet creaking noise from the door to the balcony and I glanced over. It was slightly ajar. Slowly, I crept to the door and pushed it open.

Valain was sitting outside, rubbing his face with his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly, but I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying or just shivering from the rain dribbling down his back. Slowly, I stepped outside.

He heard me immediately and his head whipped around. For a moment, he looked panicked, then he recognized me and relaxed. “Anya. I didn’t think you’d be up now. It’s late.”

“The rain woke me up.” I stared hard at his face. It wasn’t really possible to tell if he’d been crying or not. There was water on his face, but that easily could have been the rain, and his voice was a little off, but that could have been sleepiness or just a result of him trying not to drink the rainwater that was pouring over him. And yet there was something about him that made me think he had been crying right before I’d stepped outside.

“You’re going to get wet,” he said as I sat down next to him. The rain was cool, but the night air was warm enough that it felt nice rather than frigid.

“You’re already wet,” I said. Valain shrugged.

“You get all wrinkly when you get wet,” he said. He’d been quite panicked when I’d first shown him how my fingers wrinkled after being in the water for a while and had only really calmed down when they’d returned to normal.

“It’s not fatal. I’ll be fine.” I crossed my legs and brushed some rain water off my face. “What are you doing out here in the rain?”

Valain was silent for so long I started to feel anxious. “Um, you don’t have to say if you don’t want to. I just thought maybe you’d want to talk about it.”

He rubbed either rain or tears off his face. “Did I ever tell you why I became a guard?”

“Uh.” I thought back. I was sure he’d mentioned it at some point, but I was a little embarrassed to say that I couldn’t really remember exactly what he’d told me.

“It doesn’t matter,” Valain said with a quick shake of his head. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth anyway.” He wiped his face off again. “My parents died.”

My stomach contracted and sank. “I’m so sorry,” I said. I felt oddly numb, like the moment right after being punched in the gut. Valain shook his head slightly.

“Everyone’s sorry,” he said. “They died together. It was an accident. There was a storm and they went out to make sure there wasn’t going to be a mudslide.” He took a deep breath. “There was.”

I didn’t know what to do, so I just put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into my touch. “They died two years ago today,” he continued.

My stomach tightened again. “Today exactly?”

“Mmhm. I was thinking about it. That’s why I’m out here. I couldn’t sleep.” He swallowed thickly. “When they died, I couldn’t do anything for months. It felt- It felt like I’d been hollowed out. It was all I could do to eat. Mostly I just wanted to sleep.” He considered the ground for a moment. “I joined the guard because I needed to make money. And because it was something that I didn’t really need to think about. I could just go in and memorize what they wanted me to and train my body. It was better than doing nothing, and I liked it. I always thought being a guard would be interesting. But a big part of the reason I did it was because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want a normal job. It felt empty. I wanted to get away from my life. But even when I came out here, I still felt… directionless. I’ve felt lost since they died.” His voice choked up and he lowered his head. I ran my fingers along his back until he lifted his head again.

“Ever since you got here, I’ve felt different,” he said. His voice was weaker, more hesitant. “I feel less distant. You’re like an anchor. You ground me back in reality. You give me someone else, something else to think about than them.” He pressed his side against mine, like he was trying to meld our bodies together. “Isn’t that weird? Meeting an alien pulled me back to myself.”

I found myself trailing my fingers in small circles along his spine. He didn’t seem to mind, so I didn’t stop. “I don’t know. Meeting aliens isn’t that weird to me.”

Valain laughed. It was startlingly loud and seemed to echo over the sound of drumming rain. He clamped his mouth shut, shrinking back against me. After a moment, he spoke again in a quieter voice. “Sorry. That’s just… strange. Sometimes it strikes me. Just how strange this all is. But I like it. I like having you around. I really think you’re good for me.” He pursed his lips. “I hope that doesn’t make me seem selfish.”

“No. You’re saving my life by letting me stay here. I’m glad that you like having me here.” We sat in silence, listening to the rain drumming on the leaves and roof. “I really am sorry about your parents.”

“I feel a little bad, complaining about that to you. You’ve lost a lot more than I have.”

“Don’t do that. Losing your parents sucks. Doesn’t matter if I’ve technically lost more than you.” Valain smiled a little. His blinks were becoming slower and a little heavier, like he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

We sat together. I kept shivering slightly, because the rain was cold and it was dribbling down my back and neck. Valain seemed completely unbothered and too tired to really notice what I was feeling. I didn’t blame him. He’d been rather agitated the past few days. I was just glad he was getting some rest at last.

“What are you going to do when you go back home?” I asked. Valain blinked at me, confused. “You said you became a guard because you didn’t know what you wanted to do in life. I was just wondering if you had any new ideas now.”

Valain hummed low in his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe. I still don’t know exactly what I want to do.” His ear-fins flattened against his head for a moment before pricking back up again. “But you know, I think I’m not as worried about it anymore. I always felt like I was going to be alone when I got back. But you’re here now. It feels nice to have you here with me.” He glanced at me for a moment, then looked back at the ground. “That’s a silly thing to say, isn’t it?”

“It’s not silly.” My heart thundered in my chest so hard I thought he could definitely hear it. “I think it’s cute.”

Valain smiled before his jaws stretched in a wide yawn. He blinked a few more times, then heaved himself slowly to his feet. He offered me a hand. “We should go back inside,” he said.

I put my hand in his and he pulled me up. My muscles were stiff from the cold. I stumbled over the doorframe as we stepped through it. Valain caught me against his chest. “You all right?” he asked. His hands rubbed against my upper arms, like he was trying to warm me up.

“I’m cold.” Rain dribbled from my hair, sending cool trails down my back and sides. Valain grabbed and towel and sat down with me to rub the water off.

Inside, it was a little easier to tell that Valain had been crying. His irises were large and it made it hard to tell when his eyes were bloodshot, but I could see the puffiness beneath his eyes. He looked weary. I wondered if he had been eating much. I hadn’t been paying attention. I resolved to pay better attention in the future.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?” I asked as I finished toweling off my hair. Valain twisted the towel in his hands, frowning.

“I think so,” he said after a minute. “Even if I can’t sleep, I’ll just lie still until morning. It’s better than sitting up in the rain, I guess.” He gave a weak smile.

“I could sit up with you, if you want,” I said.

“I don’t want to make you stay awake,” Valain mumbled, but there was some suppressed eagerness in his voice.

“You’re not making me stay awake. I offered.” I propped myself up against the wall. Valain sat down next to me, tugging a blanket over us both. We were close together, practically pressed against each other. His tail was between us, preventing our legs from touching, but I could feel the soft membrane of his tail fin against my skin. I was still dripping cold rainwater, but Valain didn’t seem to mind. I didn’t really even mind. Valain was warm enough to keep me warm too.

Valain drifted in and out of sleep that night. He would start to fall asleep, his head sliding down the wall until it rested on my shoulder. For a few minutes, he would snooze, then he would jerk and start shuddering or twitching. I had to shake him awake a few times and he seemed increasingly anxious every time he reawakened. Gradually, as the night continued and I had to keep waking him back up, he would curl closer and closer to me, probably for comfort. By the time the rain stopped and the sun started to come out, Valain was curled up and clinging to me, with his tail resting across my lap. He was so tired and out-of-it that I was pretty sure he didn’t really understand what he was doing. I didn’t mind. It was cozy.

It wasn’t until morning that Valain actually fell into a proper sleep. He stopped twitching and shivering and sank into a deep sleep that he couldn’t be roused from, even when I squirmed away from him to stretch my cramping legs.

He curled on the floor in the golden sunlight that was filtering through the window, clinging to his blanket. It was kind of precious. There was something quite innocent and sweet in his sleeping face. I fetched a pillow from his bed and carefully inserted it under his head. He barely stirred.

It took me a little while to figure out how to make food for him. I’d watched him prepare meals a few times before, but there was a pretty big difference between just watching him make food and trying to figure it out myself, especially because I had limited cooking experience with human food. Eventually, I settled on the method of cooking that seemed to be pretty consistent throughout every culture I’d ever seen: throw some stuff in a pan with oil and cook it together.

I picked the only meat that I’d ever been comfortable eating, a chunk of some goat-like animal, and several of the plants that I’d been able to eat and chopped them into roughly equal pieces before cooking them in the pan Valain used. It took some fussing with the heat to stop everything from burning, but eventually, I figured out how to cook everything evenly. It even smelled good.

Valain stirred as I was finishing up and portioning it out onto plates. “Anya?” he mumbled, rolling over and tangling his legs in the blanket around him. He reached out and jerked up when his hand didn’t reach me. “Anya?” His voice sharpened with panic.

“It’s okay. I’m over here,” I said. Valain rolled over, further ensnaring himself in the sheets. He kicked at them irritably as he sat up.

“Did you cook something?” he asked as he pulled the blankets off himself. I nodded.

“I don’t know if it’s actually any good, but I did my best.”

“Well, it smells good,” Valain said. He took one of the plates from me and had a bite. His expression twisted a little before he forced it back into neutrality.

“Not good?” I asked.

Valain swallowed his bite. “I didn’t say that.” He took a small bite. “I don’t think that this particular kind of meat works all that well with ballate, though.”

I took a bite of the meal and grimaced. He was right. The fruit was overly sweet and didn’t pair too well with the fatty meat. I also got the general idea that the meat hadn’t been cooked as well as it could have been. “Sorry.”

“It’s not bad, especially for your first time,” Valain said. “Thank you.” He sat down at his table. I sat down next to him. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked. Valain poked at his breakfast for a few moments before answering.

“I think I’m feeling a little better. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.”

“Have you never talked to anyone about losing your parents before?” I asked.

“Mm, not much. I never really felt comfortable with it. I think I always wanted to ignore it before.” Valain frowned into his dish. “Anya, do you want to talk about what happened to you?”

I stared at him. “Why? It’s not like you don’t already know what happened.”

“Well, I know what happened, but don’t you think it would make you feel better if you talked about how you feel? You haven’t really discussed it since you came here and it made me feel better, so I-” He caught a glimpse of my face and stumbled to a stop. “Ah. Well, I just was suggesting it. If you don’t want to, I’m not going to make you.”

“What do you want me to say?” I asked. Valain shrugged, tail twitching. I could hear his fins brushing against the floor.

“Anything you want to. If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind listening.”

My first instinct was to say no, to shut him down, but then he offered me a small, sweet smile. My heart pounded and I could feel my cheeks redden. I hadn’t told Valain what that meant, right? I hoped not. “I don’t really know what to say. I’ve been trying not to think about it, I guess.”

“That’s okay. I’m just letting you know that if you want to talk, I’ll always be here for you.” He smiled again and I had to look away before my heart exploded.

“Neither of us really have anywhere else to go,” I said.

“No,” Valain agreed. “We have each other, though.” He reached across the table and took hold of my hand. I was very aware of the way his touch felt. His hands were calloused around the pads of his palms and his fingertips, but between those areas, it was soft. I could feel the slight pressure of his claws against my skin. It was a strangely nice feeling. The knowledge that he could use them on me, but he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to and that he probably never would want to… I felt vulnerable, but protected at the same time.

“Each other,” I repeated. I no longer felt so nervous about being left behind. Valain needed me like I needed him. There was something nice about being needed. Something secure. I was needed and wanted. I liked that. I ran the pad of my thumb over the knuckle of his. He smiled at me. “I like that.”

Valain searched my face for a moment, like he was making sure I was really okay. Then he broke into a toothy smile. “Good,” he said. “I like it too.”

#exophilia #alien boyfriend #alienxhuman #monsterxhuman #monster boyfriend #my writing #alien story

[patchwork-panda]

Haunted House

My contribution to the Halloween @vldexchange !

Ended up being more of a drabble than anything else but this is for you, @witchly-doodletime ! (Keith and Shiro visit a haunted house) I hope you like it. :)

“So this is the place?”

Keith frowned, staring up at the dilapidated-looking building before them. His gaze was critical and at once, Shiro’s stomach tied itself into a knot.

Upon hearing that Keith had never been to a “haunted house,” Shiro had immediately begun a frantic online search for Halloween events nearby, filtering by best rated and meticulously combing through the reviews until it was almost too late to book. By that time, all the good events were just about full and it took an embarrassing amount of begging, culminating in an offer to do all his roommate’s dishes for a month that he was finally able to convince Matt to let him have the tickets he had ordered for him and his sister Pidge at the “Murder House.”

“If you don’t get together by the end of the night, I swear,” Pidge hissed, punching him a little harder than necessary on the shoulder, her eyes narrowed, “I swear I will personally end you both.”

Shiro had laughed nervously, rubbing his non-prosthetic arm (Pidge may have tiny fists but that girl hit hard) and promising that he would make her proud but now that he saw Keith surveying the building’s facade with narrowed eyes, he found himself rapidly losing what little confidence he had to begin with.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

Keith shrugged, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets and looking at Shiro curiously.

“What do you think?” he returned, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lip.

Shiro really didn’t want to answer that. At first glance, it looked pretty standard. Two-story cardboard facade hiding a one-story house, the wooden shutters painted black and gray and green to make them look old and moldy, windows completely blacked out except for where electronic green and yellow eyes blinked out into the night. Well-manicured lawn decked out with foamy-looking grave stones and grubby-looking rubber hands sprouting from the grass, complete with a hidden a fog machine rolling out the creepy atmosphere. A set of speakers played a recording of undead-sounding moans and groans, occasionally inaudible over the sounds of actual screams from event-goers who had entered the building and were clearly having a good time. The overall effect was well-done but somewhat campy. Right up the Holt siblings’ alley but maybe not Keith’s. Shiro swallowed nervously.

He was saved the trouble of answering by the front door creaking open and a tall red-headed man with a well-trimmed mustache calling out, “Next!”

“So, we just go in and try not to get scared?” Keith asked, sounding slightly confused. He prodded at a fake spider and grimaced as the cobweb got caught on his glove.

“Actually, you’re supposed to get scared,” Shiro explained, trying to keep the stupid grin off his face as he thought about how adorable Keith looked when he tilted his head to the side like that, the way his eyes got all big when he processed Shiro’s words.

“That’s the whole point of a haunted house. You go in, walk through a scary-looking building with your friends while a bunch of people in masks jump out and try to make you scream. It’s—it’s fun.”

Keith didn’t look convinced.

“Then why didn’t you want Lance and Hunk and Pidge along? Or even Matt?” he asked. “I thought he was your best friend?”

“Well,” Shiro stammered, “You’re my friend too and you’ve never been to one before so I just really wanted to make sure you had a good time.”

Keith didn’t seem the type to get scared easily but Shiro couldn’t help hoping Keith might cling to him if something did manage to frighten him. Given how long he’d had a crush on the man, he’d settle even for a hand hold at this point. Which reminded him...

He cleared his throat and held out his prosthetic.

“If you get scared, you can hold my hand.”

Keith stared at his hand, warily, and Shiro suddenly understood why so many on their college campus compared the young man to a feral cat.

“I’ll be fine,” Keith replied, brushing past him with barely a backwards glance. “Come on, I think they’re waiting for us.”

“Ah, just the two of you eh?” the man asked, checking their names off his box. He smiled brightly, revealing rows of fake, pointed teeth. “Welcome to the Murder House. I’m Coran I’ll be locking you in this evening. I hope you don’t have heart conditions or epilepsy—plenty of flashing lights coming up at the end. Just follow the trail of blood and you’ll make your way to the exit.”

“We’ll be okay,” Shiro assured him.

“Right then, if you and your boyfriend will step this way--”

“Oh, uh, we’re not—” he sputtered, waving his hands in the air, his face beet-red. He turned to check on Keith, praying he wasn’t offended. Luckily, Keith looked oddly unbothered and had walked off to his right to stare at the peeling wallpaper in the parlor. Perhaps he hadn’t heard.

“Not to worry,” Coran said, winking conspiratorially at him, “We’ll have him clinging to you by the end of the night. A little birdy told me it was his first time at this sort of thing.”

“Pidge told you--?!” Shiro squawked but Coran had already closed the door as he left.

At once, the lights in the parlor went out, accompanied by an eerie laugh and he jumped as a hand descended on his shoulder. He whirled to see Keith looking at him with concern in his dark blue eyes.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” Shiro lied. Given how quickly his heart was beating right now at having Keith’s face so close to his, staring at him so intently in the dark, his body was sure to give out by the end of the night. “Shall we get going?”

“Sure. Follow the bloodstains, right?”

As one, they looked to the floor, where a trail of red splatters led them into the darkened hallway. Overhead, a dimly lit bulb flickered as they passed, bathing the hallway in a sickly pale green. The walls were covered in the same peeling old wallpaper as the foyer and as they passed a broken mirror, Shiro had to fight the twitch that moved him just an inch closer to Keith when he saw his own reflection, the shock of white hair in front of his eyes multiplied in the broken glass.

He laughed.

“For a second, I thought that was someone coming out to scare us--”

“Shiro, look out!!”

He was pushed roughly out of the way as a large figure brandishing a knife came surging out of a hidden doorway. Before Shiro could react, Keith had raced to get in front of Shiro, assumed a fighting stance and delivered a quick punch to their “attacker’s” stomach. Shiro’s mouth dropped open.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

The man staggered, dropping his knife as he doubled over, which bent oddly as it hit the ground. The knife had been made of rubber. He pulled off his mask and glared at Keith through watering eyes.

“What the hell, man? That really hurt!”

“Keith, what was that for?” Shiro exclaimed, grasping his companion by the wrist and turning him so they were face to face.

“Shiro!” Keith exclaimed. He wrenched his hand out of Shiro’s grasp and put both hands on Shiro’s face, running his fingers over Shiro’s forehead, through Shiro’s hair, checking him for lumps and bumps, his wide eyes searching Shiro’s body for injuries. “Are you hurt, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Keith! Why did you punch him?”

“Wha--?” Keith was looking more confused by the second. “What are you talking about? I thought he was going to hurt you. You’re sure you’re okay?”

Shiro might have laughed if he wasn’t worried about an upcoming lawsuit.

“Keith, I’m fine! He was just coming to scare us—that’s the point of a haunted house. Nobody actually gets hurt here.”

As the lights came on and footsteps raced towards them, shouts of “oh my God!” filling the air as the other performers came out of hiding to help their companion to his feet, Shiro saw the light slowly dawning in Keith’s eyes as his face grew pinker and pinker. Suddenly realizing he still had his hands on Shiro’s face, he let go as if burned and turned his attention to the crowd that had formed in the hallway.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, looking horrified. “Are you okay?”

“Not the first time I’ve been punched,” the man admitted, wincing, “But you’ve probably hit me harder than anyone ever has. You must really love this guy.”

Now it was Keith’s turn to sputter incoherently. Shiro thought he might faint. A hand descended upon his shoulder again but this time it was Coran, now looking stern instead of jovial and his mustache twitched as he declared, “I think I’m gonna have to ask the two of you to leave.”

Embarrassed and apologizing profusely, they turned back towards the front door, as a pair of large security guards in black uniforms marched them out. Shiro was so caught up in his own thoughts that he barely noticed when a smaller hand clad in a fingerless black glove reached for his and he took it without a word.

“Sorry, Shiro,” Keith mumbled as they walked out into the chill of the late October evening. He was chewing his lip and looking at his feet. “I think my body just reacted instinctively... I just don’t like to think about you getting hurt. You mean a lot to me, you know...”

He gripped Shiro’s hand tightly and looked up at him, his soul laid bare in those beautiful dark eyes. His lip, worried raw, quivered just a fraction.

“For what it’s worth, I did have fun. So... Please don’t be mad.”

Not knowing how else to respond, Shiro just pulled him in for a kiss.

#sheith #halloween #drabble fic

[themockingcrows]

Two Fates, Two Kingdoms Ch. 15: Flight

This chapter is SFW AO3 mirror [X]

The fated time is rushing to meet the trio and their dangerous journey to Derse, but between their lack of a map, the princesses, and the snowy weather itself there are concerns about even reaching Skaia in one piece. They are caught in a maze, knowing the way forward and back for their escape, but realizing that the direction they were running might not even be the way they need to go when push comes to shove.

    Dave half drowsed in the chilly windowsill of their shared quarters, red eyes trained out the frosted window and to the more distant snow coated trees he could make out against far flung hills and mountains even further beyond. While Prospit didn't hold the same unforgiving brand of mountains as his homeland, they were no strangers to the extremes of raw stone where it met the borders of their usually fruitful plains and valleys. They simply chose not to base their entire existence within it like the children of Derse, was all. Pity, Dave thought, they'd be far warmer and more prepared for the winter if they did the smart thing and went beneath the surface with at least some of their buildings.

    John was working at the desk, a headache throbbing between the twin points of his temples, trying his best to parse over everything they had remaining to deal with as simply as he could with minimal notes. So much was moving so quickly and it seemed to be speeding up every time he dared to breathe. One day that had simply been planning to see where they stood in a week, but quickly it had become apparent that they needed to be prepared to drop everything and leave once all of their acquisitions had been made. Dawdling would only rouse suspicion, and time was running out.

    At the edge of John's vision, Dave moved suddenly. A barely noticed gesture of a leg distending, a bare foot unbothered by the cold hitting the floor as he stood up, collar giving a faint jingle like a cat's bell. The Dersite was getting around easier day by day, stubborn as anything and too full of pride to do it at anything less than a saunter while he had the strength for it. John caught himself listening closely to each footfall, trying to listen for labored breaths, for anything being knocked over more than he was listening for words.

    “...-ll Jane.”

    “....Pardon?” he asked, shaking his head as he realized out little he'd actually caught while filtering only potential distress sounds.

    Dave came closer to the desk before finally wobbling a bit, reaching out to ensure the nearest corner was the angle he assumed it was before trying to hop up onto it. An excellent desk decoration if John did say so himself, were he to be crude about it. His lover was a gorgeous thing to his eyes and having him within arms reach was tantalizing even while he was recovering. John's hand was reaching over while Dave rolled his eyes and repeated himself.

    “I said,” Dave repeated with more enunciation to clarify what he was concerned may have been confusion caused by his accent, “that you really need to tell Jane.”

    “Dave,” John said, hand halting and retreating back to himself. “We went over that before. It's not happening.”

    “It could be useful. Good even!” Dave insisted. “Wouldn't she be the one left ruling next if you and Jake leave with me? If anything happens to your father, it'd be nice to have someone who wouldn't be dying to rip the world in half to get some revenge. She'd be more lenient against you two, probably as well if you wished to come home in the future, might even buy us more time when we first go!”

    Groaning, John sank down in his seat and rubbed at his throbbing temples, long legs disappearing beneath the desk far enough he thumped the wall with his slippered feet. “Drop it. Please, drop it, that's a stupid idea.”

    “It's not stupid, you're being stupid. Allies are important! And wouldn't she be in a better mood hearing it from you instead of finding out at the worst possible time considering you're essentially dumpling being heiress on her early with no backup? We could leave without risk, an-”

    “DAVE,” John repeated louder. “Dave, please. Please drop it, I'm done with this conversation, I can't do this right now, it's a done deal!”

    “She's not Jade!” Dave said, raising his voice as well. “Stop being so stubborn and look, this feel like the right thing to do. At least tell Jane, I-”

    “We're done talking about this,” John interrupted, lifting a finger to point without looking Dave's direction, voice strained from his headache. “Don't. Topic over. No more.”

    Angry and on edge, Dave glared at the raised finger and narrowed his eyes at it.

    “...Are you giving me an order?” the Dersite asked suspiciously, daring the answer he already knew to make itself known to the open air.

    “Yes, it's an order,” John said hurriedly, anything to stop the conversation in its tracks. Anything else he'd love to talk about, anything less stressful, less... that entire mess of a topic.

    Red eyes narrowed angrily, face twisting into a look John hadn't seen since Dave and he had wrestled to the floor what felt like a lifetime ago. He watched shapely lips form curse words in a language full of guttural tones and hisses just soft and fast enough he couldn't track more than that they sounded angry as he looked. The heir managed to yank his hand back reflexively before Dave's sharp teeth clicked at the empty air he'd inhabited moments before.

    “Wh- wait, were you just trying to bite me?”

    “Yes, bite is better than to hit when it's something like this, it'd leave a mark.”

    “What the fuck?” John asked, baffled.

    Dave's glower could pierce metal as he leaned forward further, slipping unsteadily off the table to plant his hands on either side of John's chair, pressing his body up between John's thighs to get close as he could.

    “You gave me an order. Not a complaint, not a refusal. A command. I may wear a collar, but I was under the assumption I was not yours to command when we were not being watched. Or has that changed now?” Dave asked when they were nearly nose to nose. “Is this what will be normal now? You being able to stop conversations entirely by making me yield?”

    “I-. You didn't stop when I asked you to, so I just,” John faltered, realizing what he'd done. He couldn't deny it. Might as well try to explain why he'd slipped. “I didn't want to talk about that stupid idea anymore, my head's killing me, and there's no way to make you drop it even if I could debate right now! I'd stop pushing if it were you, why won't you stop with me?”

    “Because it's not a stupid idea,” Dave insisted. “There's another reason I want you to let Jane know. She's not as isolated as Jade is this season, she's out and about more, she's likely heard the comings and goings. She might already know more than we have any idea, John.”

    “We'll deal with it when it comes to it, or.. Okay, how about this: we'll tell her before we go, but only after we secure everything we need. Not a minute before,” John insisted.

    It wasn't the compromise he wanted, nor the answer Dave was hoping for, but it was the closest they could feasibly agree on for now. Both were hopeful that Jake would prove to be a proper tie breaker later on, though knowing his brother, John wasn't entirely certain if he'd do that reliably.

    “...Fine,” Dave mumbled, sagging where he stood leaning in front of John.

    The heir hesitated before reaching up, clasping either side of Dave's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over high cheekbones and down towards the edges of his lips. His brows furrowed worriedly and he wet his own lips before daring to speak, weighing his words cautiously.

    “...Please. Forgive me for earlier, Dave. You know I'm not going to suddenly give you orders, you're not a slave, not to me or to anyone that matters. I was frustrated, angry even. But that's not an excuse, not for something that serious,” said John softly.

    Dave looked away but didn't pull his face back, brows staying tense, wanting to still be angry. The rage was gone though, temper quick to flash and quick to drop away into nothing, especially now. Tempers were high and he knew that he'd been poking and prodding at the same raw nerve over and over purposefully to try getting a reaction. Well. A reaction other than the one he'd gotten, somehow. Slowly he exhaled a heavy sigh and shook his head, then leaned heavier into his lover's palms.

    “I forgive you, and I'm not angry. Not anymore. ..Not really,” he promised. “It just feels like I'm losing my mind somehow. Slipping through my own hands like grains of sand.”

    “It's the stress,” John promised. “I'm feeling quite similar. There's no amount of prepared that would be enough short of a formal journey, and we don't have that luxury at all.”

    “You promise, though?” said Dave, pulling loose of John's hands in favor of slipping onto his lap sideways, wanting to hold him close, needing the solid weight to lean against for his own calming down.

    “Yes,” he promised immediately, kissing Dave's temple before wrapping his long arms around the Dersite's narrow body, wanting to cocoon him well enough to keep him safe from the rest of the world. Even if only for a little bit longer.

    “Mmph, not so tight, you'll bust a rib..”

    “Sorry, sorry,” John chuckled, loosening his grasp instead of play his fingers along Dave's spine and ribs, letting his eyes slip shut. The position was uncomfortable, but cozy enough that there was no urge to move. “Do you think you'll be up to our one big chore today? Or do you want to go back to the windowsill?”

    “Mnn.. Depends, what's the chore again? Can it wait?”

    John was quiet for a moment as he glanced upwards at his ceiling, trying to decide. “I'm not sure. I don't think Karkat is someone you can tell to wait about anything without him turning up with an itemized list of reasons on why punching you in the throat would be applicable in the future as opposed to dealing with changing his schedule without any input from him.”

    “Maybe turning up to say that to you, but I think he enjoys me well enough,” Dave smirked. “Or at least as much as anyone else who doesn't outright hates me enjoys me.”

    “You don't damage his books and Kanaya has that weird Alternian Bonding thing going with yo-”

    “Moirail.”

    “Right. Yes. That thing.”

    “...John, you've lived here your entire life, she's been here for years and I've been here for quite some time now and you still don't remember the word moirail?? It's not like you're learning Dersian in the older tongue,” Dave snorted.

    John made a face. “Either way, you're good with Kanaya and don't mess up his property like I used to, there's not much reason for him to be sour at you. I've a pre-existing record of pissing him off to cope with, he'll be bitter at me even when giving a compliment. But the chore isn't too terrible. Returning books, trying to poke and prod and see if he has any maps. He's fond of his organizational systems for the books, but I know that there must be reference maps somewhere, if not in our collection.. then in his.”

    “His collection?” Dave asked, slowly extracting himself from John's grasp to stand up, deciding to get his shoes on and prepare the books they'd be returning. A few of them were coming along with them, and Karkat would just have to cope with it.

    “His father was well traveled. I assume he'd have maps, or notes, or some other kind of memo that might be useful. Or at least more useful than us guessing and imagining and trying to think of what could be ahead of us.”

    “...I'm surprised Jake didn't heckle him already for that,” Dave admitted, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress to wait for John to get himself ready as well.

    “Well. I don't think Jake heckled him in the slightest actually, he just swept in and relieved him of most of his collection for the section we had the most interest in, remember?”

    “He's not going to give us a single thing, even I can guess that,” said Dave, watching like a hawk as John stacked up books and tucked them under his left arm. His right he left free for Dave, prepared to carry him against his hip when they reached the stairs. “He's already pushed his luck just giving us the things we've got now. If anyone questions him, if your father ever finds out...”

    “If father ever finds out he'd still need to somehow link Karkat to our actual leaving and deciding to be disobedient little bastards, which I think he'd be innocent of. That, or he's smart enough to run early on, like Kanaya would,” said John as he straightened up one last time and opened the door, letting Dave out into the hallway first.

    The Dersite made it halfway down the stairs before starting to wobble badly enough that John lifted him without comment, ignoring the displeased look as Dave shuffled in his grip to get himself comfortable, and continued to ignore the huffs and shuffles of wanting to be set down quicker when they'd been on flat ground for a while. They entered the library itself side by side however, John holding the books and Dave opening the door wide, bracing it and holding himself steady for the sudden appearance of Karkat.

    “...Why are you back now?” he asked incredulously from his desk, paper bearing unfamiliar marks in fresh ink resting in front of him, eyes wide. “I don't have any new books to fit your recent spiral of obsession and even if I did what makes you think I'd fuck myself over by giving them to you?”

    “We're bringing books BACK actually,” Dave said, gesturing to John and the stack as he came closer to set it on the desk. Karkat yanked the wet paper away before anything could be dropped on top of it, not wanting it smudged or damaged in the slightest.

    “This isn't all of them. Finally making headway with that Skaian book?”

    “Yes and no, we've been a bit.. distracted,�� John coughed. “But I was hoping you might have something else of use for our studies?”

    “What did I literally just fucking say.”

    “I'm not deaf, but lucky for you, I'm not wanting a book!” John said with his most charming grin as he leaned onto the stack of books, chin held in his own hands. “Might you have any maps o-”

    “Not for you.”

    “Karkat, come on, you have to have maps. If we don't, you've gotta have SOMETHING on hand!”

    “Not. For you,” Karkat insisted. “No maps, no more books. Thank you for bringing back these ones in decent condition, but you're getting fucking nothing from me. Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do? I know what's happening, and I am distinctly fucking aware of how replaceable I am.”

    Dave sighed and drifted away to browse, while John continued to fruitlessly ply his charm.

    “I mean. If you already know what's happening then it'd be even easier to cough, look the other way, and let us find things on our own. Right? We could play Hot And Cold, or you could accidentally drop something or tell us precisely where not to go so I could steal them, o-”

    “No. I'm not budging on this John, and no amount of shit eating grins is going to change that. If you want maps, you can go draw your fucking own.”

    “...Karkat you know I made a terrible cartographer..”

    “AS IF THAT'S MY PROBLEM IN ANY SENSE OF THE FUCKING WORD!” Karkat spat, setting his paper aside safely and corking his ink before standing up and shooing John off the stack. “Look, I'm already sticking my neck out enough without even wanting to, thanks to you and your brother. I'm going to put these back and misshelve a few other things to make it less obvious that an entire fucking section was checked out in such a short amount of time before you do stupid shit.”

    John frowned and took a step back before crossing his arms. “It's not that big of a deal, just. Look the other way an-”

    Eye giving a twitch, Karkat whirled around.

    “You really don't understand this, do you. Is this a fucking game to you? Really, I'm dying to know, is all of this a fucking game for you or do you actually fucking care.”

    “I. I don't know what you want me to say here, Karkat, I don't really see what the big problem is. Especially if I do all the grabbing and you just turn a blind eye. You couldn't get in trouble, then. Not at all,” John said, suddenly looking hesitant, trying to figure out if he should raise his arms to ward off an attack. Dave was watching as well from a distance, but he had a feeling he understood what was being said. “Kanaya's been-”

    “This isn't about Kanaya, this is about me you cock juggling dipshit. About me and the fact that unlike Kanaya, the amount I was willing to help was already reached before and you fucks keep pushing me into helping or looking like I'm helping MORE. I didn't fucking agree to this. I agreed to removing the layers of encrusted bullshit and failure from your eyes and giving you a metaphorical compass, I agreed to checking out the books even if it was a stupid idea by the time I caught on to all of it to realize just how far this shit actually reached, and I'm not agreeing to anything more! I can only pretend to be so stupid. Kanaya's stitching her bed to lay in it already, I tidied mine and you're pushing for more. No. Fuck you. No fucking maps, figure it out your own damned selves or buy a map in town if they have any. Good fucking luck, happy travels, toodle-fucking-loo and get the hell out of my library.”

    John wilted. “You just said you already helped that much, what does a map make any difference for? Wouldn't you already be in trouble, by that definition?”

    “You are missing the point so hard that I'm fairly sure you'll hit diamonds at the center of the world before you understand what I'm saying without a map to that as well.”

    “....So does that mean yo-”

    “No that does not fucking mean I'm going to give you a map, why would I be that subtle, you're failing to understand humor now too.”

    Frustrated, John stepped back from the table and crossed his arms, leaning back and lifting his chin up. Alright, fine, he didn't need a map from here. He'd... figure something else out. Hope the first place they could stop had a map available that extended out of their known directions.

    “Dave's home mountain can't be that hard to find, and we already know the directions to Skaia, so. I guess I don't need your assistance after all,” said John. “Many apologies for disturbing your work. We'll see ourselves out. Dave?”

    “We literally just got here,” defended the Dersite. “I know you're not getting a map, but wouldn't anything else be useful?”

    “I think Jake has anything that'd be remotely useful compared to what we just returned. But our best bet seems to be getting a map in another town, or maybe Skaia itself. Shouldn't be THAT hard, I mean. It's just Skaia, who can't reach Skaia on their own from here?”

    “Have you made many treks to Skaia while being wary of main roads and paths?” Dave asked from the shelf, thumbing at the cover of a book before sliding it back into place. It wouldn't be wise to take more items, but the idea of another one or two were teasing him. What was it about libraries and book shops that made him want to hoard volumes he'd probably never get around to reading in the first place? Even just the smell was soothing to him.

    “No, but again, how hard could it be? We're going one direction, and if we know where the main road is we can veer off of it and sort of follow the fields around. Ask directions if needs be. Don't worry too hard Dave, you're a bright man and you're traveling with two other bright men, we'll figure things out one way or another,” John declared, choosing to ignore the decided snort Karkat let out the second he declared he and his brother smart. “We have a lot more to worry about than this, remember? This was going to be just a bonus.”

    “Good to hear you came and bothered me as a bonus. Remind me to thank you personally with my fist the second you lay your crown down,” the librarian muttered.

    Dave didn't look thrilled at the prospect that the entire trip had been for nothing, but John did have a point. There was enough happening besides this that a single hiccup was to be expected and perhaps even thankful for. The more things that were benign when they went wrong were less massive problems to arise later, if it even really worked out that way. Give and take on even terms weren't usually related to chance.

    “..Alright,” he said with a sigh as he pulled away from the shelves to return to the heir's side.

    Karkat seemed to want to say something, gaze flickering over Dave as he heeled to John's side before following to the door, but he held his tongue. He heaved a sigh and shook his head instead, giving a backhanded wave as the duo departed sullenly out the hallway.

    John didn't know what to say as they headed back down the hall, occasionally glancing Dave's direction and then forward again.

    “...Would you like to swing by the kitchen with me to get a treat before we go back? We're already out this far, might as well stay out a bit longer and get something warm for our troubles”

    Dave considered it. They'd come all this way and were returning empty handed, surely a treat wouldn't hurt them now. “I could survive without it, but it does sound quite nice. Maybe finding something fresh and warm to keep you toasty and satisfied till we return to your quarters.”

    “As if you don't keep me plenty warm enough.”

    Dave reached over to subtly thwack John in the side, aiming for his lower ribs, and seemed satisfied when he bounced to the side and wheezed before rubbing at the impact site.

    “Okay! Okay, yeesh, I was only half kidding.”

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

    Dave carried the plate for the journey back, though John assisted him up the stairs as needed, cautious to not spill or drop any of the items precariously balanced on top. They didn't need this many things, nearly a full meal in itself, but John said it was likely a good plan to have extras in case Jake came by again or in case they wanted something extra after supper had come and gone. One trip and no late night wanderings seemed the best option.

    The plan seemed to have been a good one, as when they entered the room Jake was perched on the side of their bed once more, his thumb being gently bitten by his front teeth as he pored over a book he held open on his lap, brows creased with worry. He looked tired, strained, drawn thin, but still very alert. He glanced up when he heard the door and flashed a grin that didn't last long before dog earing the page he'd been on and setting the volume aside.

    “There you are, I'd thought I'd be waiting a lot longer before you returned. And you brought snacks, how lovely. Might I have a few? I'm feeling a mite peckish.”

    Nodding, Dave brought the tray closer to hand it off to him, hopping up to take a seat afterwards so he could flop back and rest a bit. It wasn't much, but the longer he could go between headaches or problems, the more oomph his arguments about John's fussing would have behind them in weight and value.

    John stayed standing after closing the door with a soft thump, coming closer to pick up one of the treats from the plate to nibble as he reached for the book his brother had just closed, glancing at the cover idly. “I didn't know you'd be visiting, I'd have waited for the library trip till later. If we'd had a bit more luck, we might have been gone for much longer and you'd have been stuck waiti-”

    “Jade and Jane know,” Jake blurted.

    The treat slipped from John's fingers, dropped on top of his foot, then bounced a few inches to the sides with a trail of crumbs being dropped behind it. “...Come again?”

    “They know, John. Or at least they.. they know something is happening,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Jake looked nauseated, stressed to the breaking point just from having to bring it up. “Jane suddenly came in without knocking and started asking a lot of questions and was getting too close and squinting at me like she used to when she would guess her birthday gifts early, and when I tried to throw her off the trail she mentioned Jade hearing something or other in the stables..”

    Dave had stayed silent, chewing the food in his mouth to avoid choking on it, and tried to process the words from different directions, wanting to understand just how worried he should be. After all, just earlier he'd been trying to persuade John into purposefully telling Jane and now the cat was apparently out of the bag all on its own. Not ideal, as there was no way to break it to her gently or warm her up to the idea before exposure, but there it was all the same.

    ...Just how fucked were they now. John seemed to have a sense that they were quite fucked indeed.

    “That explains Jane, but. Jade,” he mumbled. “What could she have heard in the stables?”

    “Perhaps a delivery or stashed supplies, or my bit of poking around, or trying to secure plans for horses and the needed tack,” Jake admitted, sheepish. “It's likely something along those lines. Probably preventable no less.”

    He grit his teeth before flopping back beside Dave, scrubbing at his face with the palms of his hands. Were he of the temperament, John was certain his brother would have started to kick his legs as well. “I've bollocksed the entire damned thing up right at the time when things were hanging in the balance the most, and the truly damnable part of it all is that I'm not entirely certain how I've even done it so I get to just deal with the knowledge I've done SOMETHING.”

    “...Jake, it's not as if you stood there and explained everything to her at random,” Dave said. “Cut yourself a bit of slack. We're already working with insane time limits.”

    “And now we may be working with even more strictly limited time,” John mumbled. “This is precisely the type of scenario that would have made us leave early by force.”

    “At least it was Jane?” argued Dave. “I was already saying it was probably a good idea to at least warn her in some kind of way, remember? I still stand by it.”

    John opened his mouth before clenching it tightly shut, swallowing a mouthful of annoyed words. Yes, how could he have forgotten in so short a time, but how did that make this any better? Jade knowing, however? “What of Jade then? You do realize we're screwed, right? She's the type to act and prevent anything that would crop up, and I'm pretty sure a daring escape plan into the snow is a pretty big thing!”

    The knock on the door was swift but light, not from a man's hand. Jake flinched as hard as Dave did, jerking physically and trying to sit upright as quickly as possible to stare at the door. John strode closer to open it up himself rather than call for whoever it was to open it themselves, positioning his body in the way of Jake and Dave's position to give them more time to move if it was anyone of importance to keep appearances up around.

    “Yes?” he asked, glancing out at his own eye level. He glanced down into icy blue eyes and barely registered Jane had come to him before she was elbowing her way inside and striding to the bedside. She rested her hands on her hips, and from how stiff her movements were it seemed as if she were struggling not to reach up and slap someone.

    “Jane?” came Jake's flabbergasted voice. “Did ah.. Did you need something else? I was going to be back in my room shortly, I just needed to come and have a quick chat with these two fellows for a moment.”

    “To tell them the final plans for the kidnapping, or to try working out what to tell Father in his next update letter?”

    “Kidnapping!” John said, thankful he'd shut the door nigh immediately instead of leaving it hanging open for their voices to carry. Dave slowly sank back onto his elbows once more to observe, holding his tongue thanks to a special blend of training, fear, and awareness that sometimes situations between siblings were best left to siblings. Or, really, left between two people who were on far more even footing than he was capable of being with anyone in this castle realistically save for John. “Who said anything about kidnapping!”

    “Then theft of a human being,” Jane said without dropping her posture. “Taking Dave.”

    “...It's hard to kidnap the willing,” offered John softly as he came up behind her. He hopped back quickly when she rounded as if ready to finally deliver a strike, fast as a viper.

    “And you! Some heir you're being, John, feeding in to these ideas!” she snapped. “I understand the sentiment, but don't you understand this is the worst way to go about it? Running off like this is treason! If you get caught, if you all three are brought back, it-”

    “Would be a death sentence for me, and some deal of punishment for them as well,” Dave interjected. “I know, Ma'am. I've known the entire time. ...I'm okay with that because I don't believe we would get caught.”

    She couldn't stay angry when faced with Dave's placid expression, the calmness threatening to edge back in to the flat emotionlessness he used to show at all times. That smooth blankness worried her, set her on edge, tugged at her consciousness to yield in order to make it go away. “How can you be so sure of that? This isn't a gamble for a beating or some other punishment, Dave, it's death. Maybe death for all of you! There are other ways to go about this, you need to call this entire mess off while you still can!”

    “We've exhausted our other ideas already, Jane. Really, we have. This wasn't a spur of the moment idea,” Jake said. It was only partly a fib after all. The plans were moving quickly, but they'd definitely given it quite a lot of thought once it started to feel more urgent. “I believe it's the best option, if not the only option, to ensure nothing else happens.”

    “Nothing else? What else could happen aside from father's wor-”

    “Jade,” John interjected. “Jade could happen.”

    “...Ah. Yes,” she mumbled, glancing to Dave again. The tamed expression was still there, making her feel on edge till she reached over to stroke the side of his head, moving a few strands of hair idly before reaching down to grasp one of his hands to squeeze it. He didn't squeeze back at first, but eventually he did close his fingers in return, eyes watching John instead. “But why would it take two of you to do it? John, I expected this kind of thing from one person. Either you because of.. well. Or Jake because it was such a spur of the moment thing. Why would we need to lose both of our princes forever because of this?”

    “Precisely because it's such an undertaking,” John hurried to say, gesturing to Jake. Hoping to spread out the responsibility to make it seem more of an inevitability than being based in any extra desire of Jake's to escape his post. “I could manage it alone. Perhaps. But with Dave being injured before, and the weather, and never having gone there before... well. Jake's an excellent tracker and fantastic with a bow, and he didn't want his little brother dying to snow and ice along with someone he cared for. Right, Jake?”

    Jake stood up and straightened his shirt out, dusted his hips and chest to smooth the fabric and free it of traces of wrinkles. He stood directly beside John and scooped his arm around his brother's shoulders, holding him close and steady, fingers tense against his shoulder.

    “I have no desire for the crown,” he said. “If John had gone alone, entirely certain of his abilities to deliver Dave to his home, knowing he'd never be able to return, I'd have still joined him.”

    Well there went the plan of giving Jake the barest bit of deniability.

    Almost immediately, Jane tugged her hand free of Dave's and rounded on the brothers, open palm raising and lashing out fast as a whip to strike Jake across the face. The crack was loud, the slap hard enough to jerk his head to the side and blossom the outline of fingers on his cheek, eyes watering from the sting. He didn't apologize or take back his words. Instead, he bore the pain and then looked down at his sister seriously, looking more like their father than he ever had before, and sighed.

    “...I knew you wouldn't understand.”

    “Understand?! No! I don't understand!” she complained. “Why do you get that option and nobody else? Why foist this on me? On Jade? Do you think either of us are going to be thrilled to bear this weight you leave behind you?”

    “Jane..”

    “You leave and you can't come back, you leave and you might get dragged back to face death, and yet you face all that.. and leave your responsibilities on your sisters without a fucking word. How dare you plan to drop this on me without a word.”

    Though he'd startled at the slap, unused to Jane being violent, it was her cursing that really caught him most by surprise. He lifted both brows before glancing to John. See? his expression said. I told you so.

    John grimaced at him before looking back to Jane once more.

    “We were going to warn you. Right before we went,” he admitted, “but we were still going to warn you. Too much forewarning and someone would probably stop us.”

    “You're damn well right someone would probably stop you, do you realize how furious with you Jade would be if you made her have to go out into the snow to hunt you two?” she asked, rubbing at her hand. The regret for slapping her brother was sinking in by way of pain rather than remorse, hands used to softened sticky dough instead of the warm face of family.

    “Would she come after us, though? ...We were planning to leave quite soon, father wouldn't have had a chance to receive and return correspondence to deliver any more orders,” said John, reaching over to take her hand. Still annoyed with them, Jane took a step back and instead went to take a seat on the bed beside Dave to sulk and rub her fingers.

    “Of course she would. Even without a direct order, it would be her honor on the table. ...How can you be so empty headed to not realize that?” Jane asked, expression hurt. “It's her duty to lead her men, and her duty to maintain the ranks. If that means collecting two traitors to the crown who originated in her own home, then.. well. That is how it would be.”

    “...You won't tell her, will you?” Dave asked softly, hesitant. Jane knowing was one thing, even if she was more upset than he'd reasoned she might be if she had been kept in the loop. Jade? New game entirely, with new dangerous rules. Her reputation preceded her for good reason.

    “I can't promise that,” she said. “By right, I should be telling her right now. Likely though, she already has an idea what's happening, even sequestered as she is for the season. Everyone that sets foot near that stable that seems suspicious gets word around, and if I found out this easily...”

    Groaning, John squirmed away from his brother and went to his fireplace, grabbing the poker and jabbing at the remnants of wood inside till they crackled and set glowing cherry pits of heat loose in the snowy ash of the grate. It wasn't making it any warmer, really, but it sure felt good to stab something right now. He glanced up when the wood was mostly more dispersed and the smaller remnants of log were thoroughly demolished into easily fractured splinters, and then stared at Jake with a bit of a lost expression.

    This was a rare thing. Normally John was brimming with his own ideas, his own plans, or at least thoughts that might have a chance at working. When their backs were already against the wall, however, he found himself faltering and hoping his elder brother could pick up the bit of slack he was leaving in his wake. Jake locked eyes with him and offered a ghost of a smile, impish and full of as much promise as when they were younger and he promised to help hide all sorts of random creatures they'd find in the gardens.

    “How much of your time might I be able to buy, Jane, if I let you slap me again. We don't need much. We just need.. interference more than anything right now,” asked Jake, gesturing towards his face with a finger. “I'll let you blacken my eye even, if it would make this any easier on you. I know this is hard, and isn't fair. But bargain with me, if you feel you have it in your heart.”

    Jane's anger flared again, cheeks going flush, but it didn't last. Tears started to fill her eyes, and not a moment later her shoulders hitched high beside her ears as she choked back a wavering sob. She snuffled wetly and rubbed her nose with the back of her fist, keeping her posture folded in on herself.

    “You've no idea how hard, and if you cared about it not being fair you'd not do this to me! To us! To all of us!”

    Neither brother went to comfort Jane, choosing to give her space instead of rubbing salt in the wound. It was Dave was bridged the gap, scooting over and leaning to quickly rest himself against her shuddering shoulder, a warm bit of comforting weight and touch without seeking reciprocation or demanding a reply. She couldn't find the words for him to say aloud, but Jane hoped the Dersite knew just how much she appreciated the little gesture.

    “We're doing it for Dave,” Jake said. “To keep him safe, to keep him alive if worse comes to worse. He can't stay here, Janey, criminy look at what already happened to him during the slowest part of the year! Can you imagine how much worse it will get once it warms up? Once Father's home?”

    “I know, but Jake, what do I do?” she asked, snuffling once more, expression a mixture of anger and sorrow all in one. “I've known my job since I was a child, I've known what I was supposed to do as I aged. Nowhere in all that preparation was both you and John turning treasonous and fleeing to enemy territory with a Dersite in tow! I'm not prepared for this, I'm not prepared to face Father like this when you're gone. I'm not prepared for you two to be gone!”

    “Jane, w-”

    “You can never come back while Father's alive!” she said, voice turning to a wail again. Jane looked so young when the angry tears turned to pure sorrow. “Maybe even after, I've no idea how things will play out, I'm not gifted with glimpses of the future, I don't know what things will be in effect by then or how long it would take to undo their effects. Bounty hunters would know your faces by the end of season, and they don't care to what kingdom someone runs so long as the price is high enough.”

    Jake looked as though a chill had run down his spine. ...Of course. She was right again. Even if the bounty had been called off, it wasn't that easy to send a message to every man and woman who had ever lain eyes on the signs or heard the promise of a reward that it was void.

    “We can't prepare for every single eventuality,” John defended. “But we can fend for ourselves. If someone came for me or Dave, they'd be meeting the heavy end of my hammer face first, and once he's gotten warmed back up to it they'd be dealing with Dave's blade as well.”

    “And my arrows,” Jake added, trying to pull away from his moment of doubt by pulling on a charming smile. “We're men grown, Jane, don't worry on that part. I can't pretend this won't be a horrendous blow to you and Jade, and a huge burden placed on your shoulders but.. count it as all of our birthday and holiday gifts rolled up into one package. When we meet again, you'll never have to worry about giving us a single thing. Just do this one thing, and I decree with the bit of power I hold right now that when next we set foot on the soil of Prospit you can break my nose if you so wish.”

    Jane rubbed her face and snorted to clear her nose and get a bit of fresher air, laughing on the exhale. “What is it with you and trying to invite women to injure you, Jake, I'm starting to worry about your varied proclivities being unsuited for the crown.”

    He finally hugged her then, and kissed the side of her temple when she snuffled once more. “Good thing I'll be giving up that heavy thing then, huh. You'll never have to delve too deep.”

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

    Jane had remained in John's quarters with the rest of them for an hour or two, discussing things in soft tones as she calmed down and let the tear stains leave her face. They ate of the things brought up from the kitchens while the siblings spoke of memories of the past, and perhaps foolishly, hopes of the future. In the end she had agreed to buy a bit of time, or at least reason with Jade best she could to help skirt the edges of treason for themselves.

    If the sons were throwing down their crowns and fleeing to the arms of the enemy, the daughters needed to remain and appear loyal as they could to keep up the guise and redirect the flow of rage, even if their hearts were throwing down their crowns as well to join their siblings.

    It needed to work. She'd known that even before learning of their plan, and knew it even more when she left to return to her own quarters, the image of John resting his head on Dave's lap and those long pale fingers slipping through the dark strands still hanging vividly in her mind.

    The supposedly best laid plans had already hit rocks, and by the arrival of their fated dawn, all three were on high alert. Their leaving their rooms was spaced out and subtle, trying to divert their true paths from the sight of the guards lest more suspicion be raised, the supplies gathered and placed ready to go near the horses. Jane had kept her distance, treating their time of snacks and reminiscing as close to a goodbye as she would be getting for the time being, and Jade had not come knocking.

    Dave found no peace in that. Peace and quiet often meant something was lurking up from behind to cause problems, enemies waiting to catch them with their pants down. Both he and John struggled to sleep that night, lying awake in the dark trying to make the other believe they were already asleep with deep even breaths. At best, they both managed an anxious nap before John finally gave Dave a gently shake on the shoulder to awaken him. He didn't comment on how quickly his lover rose, no adjustment to waking required.

    The time had come at last.

    “Tuck your pants legs into your boots.. like this,” Dave said quietly as he demonstrated the fold he meant, bottom edge stuffed down deep and the higher section folded over the top edge of the boot. “It'll help to keep snow out of your shoes easier.”

    John mimicked him, then hurried to finish his basic dressing, pulling on his warm layers for wandering the house in, billowy and large. Best way to blend in if anyone happened to catch them, after all. It would make for more questions if he wasn't dressed warm and proper. He checked himself in front of the mirror once more before glancing over to Dave, the blonde keeping a hand over his face.

    “...Do you feel ill? We'll be needing to get going soon, if we don't want to make Jake sick with anxiety.”

    “Come here for a second.”

    Obliging Dave was easy enough to do. John swept over and crouched down to get close, but furrowed his brows with confusion when Dave reached a hand out to cover one of his eyes, his now uncovered blind eye staring his general direction with its clouded pupil.

    “Uh. ...What are you doing. Can you suddenly see out of there, or are you trying to find out how to even us out?” he joked. “Can I ask for you to leave both of mine in tact till we arrive safely in your country? I'd like to be able to say I made it in one piece before smashing spare parts.”

    “We're going without candlelight, right? To reach the stables?” asked Dave softly.

    “Well. Yes, we are. It'll be difficult though, likely we'll need to bring a candle and a cover and just deal with it like that.”

    “We won't need a candle at all. I can see fairly well in the dark in general, or at least I can compared to you,” Dave explained, tensing his fingers over John's eyelid briefly to emphasis keeping it shut while he spoke. “And if you keep this eye shut.. you'll be seeing better as well once the light goes out and we get into the darkness.”

    It took a few beats for John to put two and two together in his mind.

    “Wh- Oh! Oh, yes, because it'd be used to the dark already..!”

    “Yes. You'll only be half blind, like me.”

    “...But Dave, you'll still see better than me in the dark.”

    His grin finally appeared, slightly crooked, impish. John felt the urge to kiss him, to sink back in to something more familiar than running for their lives in the middle of the fucking night into the snow, but restrained himself from giving in.

    “Hasn't bothered you before.”

    John kept his eye shut on his own as he wandered around making certain nothing of dire importance was being overlooked or forgotten, taking just a few seconds to say farewell to the room he'd had since childhood. The space had always felt far too large, too lonesome, but now it was a noose being slipped around his and Dave's necks. It would be good to leave it and the rich feeling of wood and fabric behind him. Returning to Dave's side, John grasped his hand and blew out the candle.

    In the new darkness, John opened his eye wide and looked around to try getting oriented. The blinded half of his vision was making him feel off balance, dizzy, as if the missing space was somehow removed and lightening his body up abnormally. Dave didn't seem bothered in the slightest as he stood up and led John solemnly to the door.

    “This is how it is for you at all times?”

    “The seeing? Yes, I told you, Dersite's can see better in th-”

    “No, the. The halved vision thing. The feeling as if part of my skull has been lifted away.”

    “...You'll get used to it just long enough to forget feeling off balance as your other eye adjusts,” Dave said instead, tugging the door open and poking his head outside to glance and listen.

    Stillness had long since fallen over the castle, with the only people stirring being guards and the occasional servant preparing for the morning by going to enjoy their breakfast before dealing with the rest of the castle's limited residents' needs. They stole into the night, John following Dave slow and steady to the top of the stairs. John wasn't certain if he was running off of muscle memory or if he was able to see as much as he could from his one eye, but he didn't hesitate to scoop Dave up under his arm for the voyage down, saving him the trouble. They scarcely wobbled in their descent.

    With the foul weather and the limited family remaining within the walls, it was no wonder that the guards were few and far between on the interior of the castle's main paths. They seemed to be taking turns walking end to end of each wing, trading off in the center of the entry hall, and then repeating themselves periodically. Nobody enjoyed Winter, and nobody enjoyed early hours when everyone tended to sleep in late rather than try to face the chill. The steady tapping footsteps and distant glows stood out like the sun and holy thunder to John's adrenaline soaked nerves, making their pattern easier to sort out and react to.

    Once the coast was clear, they went outside and paused so John could soundlessly close the door behind them, needing to get back the breath that the cold had sucked free from his chest. Fuck did he hate winter, and they were heading towards a land with a winter even harsher than it was here in Prospit. The things he did for love had better earn him some sort of heroic sonnet at the bare minimum once Dave was returned safely even if he only got to listen to it from within a jailer's cell.

    Their journey was miraculously going well, and still, Dave was not soothed. He could feel the anxiety building in his chest and his stomach growing sour from pent up acid as they crept along the wall towards the entrance to the stable, trying to take comfort in the barely there sounds they were making with their steps. Even surrounded by the sight of snow and feeling soft flakes of it fall upon him as the winds blew to the side, it felt too warm somehow, suffocating, like he couldn't get air. This had been easy. This had been too easy, something had to be wrong.

    Dave hated being right.

    Jade waited within the stable when John pressed the door open, cloaked in her furs and the winter gear of a soldier. Her eyes looked angry, dark circled beneath them from fitful sleeping, and her hair was stuffed out of sight down the back of her cloak. They'd nearly screamed, only managing silence of their surprise by hurriedly trying to muffle each other at the same time, John's hand clamping over Dave's mouth and Dave's gloved fingers slapping back so hard over John's lips that he was worried he'd split the skin. Jake, they realized, was leaning casually back against the inner wall of a stall with their supplies at his feet, his nose swollen and hints of a bloodied cloth sticking out the end of one nostril. The horses were already saddled and ready to load and go.

    “Do you have any idea... just how cold it is right now, John,” she asked.

    “...Quite,” answered John once Dave lowered his hands, on edge. The goal was in sight now, yet his sister was all that lay between them and a clean getaway. No. Not just his sister. His sister and likely twenty or thirty soldiers, knowing her. Jade didn't half ass anything. She either did it, and did it eerily well, or she knew it was better strategically to pull back and regroup for a try when things were weighing better in her favor. “Do you have any idea how early it is? Beauty sleep is important, Jade, or you'll wind up looking like the three of us.”

    His joke fell flat as she narrowed her eyes. Dave locked his legs in place and watched Jake for a moment before staring at Jade. Her anger was more to fear than Jane's had been. Jane was prone to tears along with her anger, bouncing between moods more easily. Jade was harder to read, but she was already cutting the air like a knife without moving a single finger, and Dave felt like he was on the chopping block.

    “Let me make this quick, John, because I've no intention on staying out of my bed much longer than I already have been,” she said. “You're not sneaky. Not a damn one of you are sneaky, and I'm ashamed to think you'd imagined you could just.. waltz out of here and get away with nobody being the wiser. Jane found you out incredibly fast, as did I.”

    Dave found his voice as he felt the noose tighten. Maybe he could plead for his life, make a case for himself and find a way to just go alone if it would make any difference. If he could make it sound like he'd be good as dead anyway, perhaps he could play on that soft spot he knew she possessed.

    “Jade,” he said, breaking form and taking a step closer. “Please. Give us a chance. Give me a chance. I'll go alone if I must, I won't get them involved, but please. Please, I can't remain here any longer, and everyone already put so much on the line to help me. I can ride, I can fight, I ca-”

    “You can hold your fucking tongue and let me finish, did you not hear what I said about making this quick precisely so I could get back to bed?” Jade snapped, stomping a step forward towards Dave, refusing to give up ground. She exhaled slowly to calm herself again, breath a soft cloud beyond her muffling. “None of you are sneaky, and none of you can plan worth a shit when it comes to your own back yard, because you're too used to things being the same as ever that you aren't aware of precisely WHAT is happening at all times. It's a normal human error, but one you would have fallen prey to. You can thank me for fixing this by surviving long enough to arrive in Derse and send me a caravan worth of flower seeds for my birthday in a few years time.”

    “...You broke Jake's nose to help us.... how, precisely,” John said. Jake was still quiet, but he didn't look angry. In fact, he didn't seem happy or sad, expression calm and still as water under moonlight. The face of a man bearing a crown.

    “Well. She didn't break it, John, in her defense. I heard no crack to my knowledge.”

    “Jake,” he hissed.

    “I'd heard tell of his offer to let Jane hit him again, and he had the audacity to come here happy as a clam to discover me and begin to bargain as if I was going to sell you all out at the drop of a hat. Completely skipping over the fact that with even just him going he was foisting everything onto Jane night immediately with no preparation, which could leave us all of us left behind in danger. It seemed a sound enough idea at the time, though in hindsight I shouldn't have hit that straight. It'll likely heal crooked.”

    “...You're not going to?” asked Dave.

    “You're half blind and you're for some reason in love with John, there's no point in hitting you as something is already broken in your head. Be thankful.”

    “Why are you putting him being in love with me on the sa- you know what, never mind,” groused John. “Quick. To the point. We're running out of time to leave. You're not selling us out and we're idiots. What does that add up to, Jade.”

    “It adds up to me detailing the guards to change their timing and routes slightly over the last few days,” she said. “You'd have run into a few in the halls otherwise. It adds up to me telling the farrier and the stable boy to tend to the horses earlier than usual, on the grounds of earlier Spring practice I plan to enact. ...It adds up to me knowing which way you need to go to safely leave the grounds and take off towards Skaia.”

    “And all it took was a nearly broken nose,” Jake mumbled, but at least he finally grinned.

    The answer was better than he could have anticipated, but John didn't feel safe leaving it be just yet.

    “...And this is out of the goodness of your heart.”

    “You wound me, John. Just because I can lead an army doesn't mean I'm any less tender than Jane at heart and doesn't mean I'm any less your sister.”

    “There are some... conditions,” Jake interjected, voice nasally from his swollen nose. He seemed to have a normal stance as he pushed off the wall and approached them. “We're on a bit of a timer.”

    “We already were on a fucking timer!” John ground out. “What new timer are we on and why?”

    “Mine,” Jade said. “You have options as well, of course. Dave could leave on his own-”

    “No,” said John immediately.

    “I could if I needed to. I understand. I don't mind,” promised Dave, yanking at John's jacket.

    “Stop sounding so eager to flee, you don't need to be so self sacrificing,” he chided, grasping around his shoulders and hugging him close. “That option is terrible, what's the next one.”

    “The next option is that you give this up and everyone remains inside, and we wait till Father returns home to make any further decisions so nobody is leaving in snow.”

    “Also terrible,” John said, shoving all of his coins onto the final bet. “Last option.”

    “The last option is me.”

    “...Do I. Do I need to fight you?” John asked, squaring his shoulders. “Give me my hammer, I'll knock your furs off you in four swings if it means we can get out of here safely.”

    “You guard your legs and back like a drunk grandmother, John, don't make me laugh,” snorted Jade. “I already guessed you'd pick this option since you all went this far, the other options were just formalities and opportunities for you to rethink and take an easier path. You leave on your horses with your supplies, going the way I spoke of before. ...And in one day, I will come hunting you.”

    “That hardly seems sporting,” John said as he narrowed his eyes. “A single day and you're hunting us down?”

    Jake cleared his throat before turning his head and spitting, the fluid a faint pink as it hit the straw. “That's more than fair, actually. We're half the family, and Dave's a considerable target for some members of staff. He sticks out like a broken thumb. Our absences and the horses won't go unnoticed forever. ...And if we can't escape Jade for even a single day, how are we meant to evade capture by other sources?”

    “Consider this your chance to prove you're capable of doing as you think you can once you leave home territory and settle out in unfamiliar lands,” she said. Hopefully it would make them anxious enough to pay more attention to their surroundings in higher stakes, to hurry, and to let her keep up an air of believable confusion for as long as she could. “...If it's worth anything, I believe you can do this. You're stubborn as mules, the both of you, and always have been. The sweet exteriors are people pleasing facades for your side job as Yes Men.”

    “Tell us how you really feel,” Jake chuckled.

    “You're cowards, and assholes for leaving Jane and I with the bag, but you know that. I don't approve of your methods, and you know that as well. ...and I admire you for doing it anyway, and for doing it best you could while assuming I would be doing anything I could to halt you. Just remember. There is worse awaiting you in Derse. If you can't escape me and my men, you can escape nothing and your attempts are worthless.”

    Jake gestured to John and to Dave before pointing down at their gathered supplies, letting them each find their belongings to strap to the two waiting horses with the weapons strung right where they could be reached if absolutely needed. Jake took most of the supplies and strapped them onto his own sturdy beast, while John loaded Dave's belongings and some of his own onto his. They pulled on their adjusted winter layers, buttoning buttons and fastening fastens under Jade's watchful eye. While Dave waited for John to divvy up coin with Jake, not wanting their money to be all in the same bag or location in case of accident or robbery, he tucked his hands into the deep pockets of his coat.

    “....Do you really want a lot of flower seeds from Derse?” he asked Jade softly.

    “Yes, when they have the time or ability. I assume it's prudent to say 'please don't let my brother's get killed', but I trust you'll manage that somehow. They'll have no excuse within the next few years to avoid sending some one way or another with a trader or something.”

    “Do you want something different from what you brought back from the snow field?”

    “I don't know as much about Derse's flowers as I do about those of Prospit, but yes. Perhaps something not as frigid in my memories would be nice. Perhaps I'll try to do some interbreeding of the different species when I have time, see new variants, new colors. Make something hardy to celebrate with whenever this nonsense between our kingdoms finally halts, even if it just means leaving the seeds and plants to my own descendants for the future.”

    Dave pondered her words until John turned and suddenly lifted him up to help him reach the high stirrup on the tall horse, waiting till he swung the rest of the way up on his own before letting go and slipping up behind him in the saddle. It made for a bit of a close fit, but it would work Dave decided as he grasped the pommel with his gloved fingers, startled by how high off the ground he really was and how surprising it was to him with only half his vision. For their sake, this would have to work.

    “Remember: you get a single day head start,” Jade said as Jake hopped onto his mare and steadied her as she took a few antsy steps forward and back. “I can offer you no more than that. I can't take it easy on you, and I can't feign stupid for long without it looking extremely suspicious.”

    She sneezed suddenly, making Jake's horse dance again, more spirited and skittish than John and Dave's mare. A hand emerged from her wrappings to rub against her chilled nose as she snuffled briefly.

    “You okay there, Jade?” asked John.

    “Peachy,” she sniffed. “Perfect, I'll be hunting you all with a cold. Thanks for this. Now... when you head out the front, turn right, not left. Head towards the training fields and stick along the side, single file, not side by side. Dave, keep your head covered fully to hide your hair till you're past the treeline. ...Maybe even past then, actually.”

    “What after the fields? Do we go to the town?” John asked.

    “Gods, no,” Jake immediately said, edging his mare towards the door before rounding her again and getting her to pause, warming up to the gestures and motions. It would be an entirely different type of ride in the snow, and even more different once they left the safety of Prospit and headed into lands less known to them. “We'd stick out terribly, coming from this direction.”

    “Correct. If you continue down the training field, the path will narrow and narrow before turning into what will look like a solid wall of brush and bushes. It's not solid. Just keep going straight and don't let the horse turn away from the evergreens, you will pop right through the other side,” Jade explained, gesturing with her hands to demonstrate the determined ride through the supposedly unyielding surface. “From there, hang a right. If you see smoke trailing in the sky, avoid it entirely. No houses, no village. When you can see a windmill, head towards it and then overshoot. Follow the river downstream to the bridge and cross. You'll be able to read the signs from there to get to Skaia, so long as you pay attention and don't veer too far.”

    Jade strode forward when they had all confirmed understanding her instructions, and grasped the handle of the wide door.

    “Don't run. A steady pace, but don't run yet. Not till you're past the evergreens,” she instructed. “...And if I must find you lot tomorrow, please. Don't let me find bodies.”

    “You won't find up unless we wish to be found,” Jake promised softly.

    “We'll write eventually somehow,” John promised. “I'll use purple ink or something else obnoxious and Dersian in origin so you know it's from me even if it doesn't say so.”

    “And I'll send you Spring and Summer,” Dave said, ignoring the confused looks the brother's gave him in favor of the faint smile that crossed Jade's face, softening the visible portions. She wasn't a crier. She wouldn't shed a tear where anyone could see it. No, she'd be taking these farewells and these promises with her back to her quarters before allowing that dam to break in her eyes.

    “You promise a hefty thing, Dersite,” she said as she pulled the door all the way open and let Jake's mare through into the snowy yard. “I'm interested in seeing if you'll follow through on it. ...Or if such a day will come where you can make that delivery by hand.”

    Into the stillness of the too early dawn stepped the two horses, solemnly following the path Jade had instructed them to follow without a backwards glance. Though the urge to run was there, John trying to subtly force Jake to hurry his mount, the elder prince remained steady to keep the younger in check as they headed along to the training field. There were already hoof prints in the snow this direction under a soft mound of fresh fallen snow to soften their shapes, their own falling into the texture on the ground and getting lost. With the flakes still drifting down around them, it wouldn't be too long before they were covered over like the others to mask their escape route for at least a little while.

    Down along the field they headed at the same agonizingly steady pace till the ridge of impassable green appeared in the distance. Or, more precisely, the large white mounds with dark green under edges signaling the dense needles that refused to be claimed by the cold deadly hands of the season like the broad leaves. The horses tried to turn, to pull away, but the time had come at last for speed. With a soft “Hyah!” Jake nudged the mare's sides with his heels to get her into a run, kicking up splashes of powder and crumbs of denser wet snow packed beneath as her hooves flew. The snow fell down like a shower and billowed outward as Jake disappeared, and Dave found himself closing his eyes tightly as they followed right afterwards. Traces of that frozen cloud clung to his hood, his cheeks, his eyelashes, yet they made it through to the other side in one piece.

    With no time to celebrate, the initial journey was silence and nerves as the sky slowly began to lighten into a dusty dull gray. The snow continued to come down, keeping it from becoming blinding as they headed past the windmill and over the bridge, but it didn't truly feel like day had come till they were well into the countryside and the thick flakes had given way to smaller flecks of ice. Dave tipped his head back to watch them fall down as they pushed the horses along, following first one, then another road sign to keep on track to their larger goal of Skaia.

    John broke the silence once to say he was hungry, that they should stop to let the horses rest and to eat, to stretch. Dave was unsteady on his feet and both the prince's were complaining of stiff joints in their hands and legs, the chill that somehow found their flesh even through their clothes or so it felt, and the vicious whipping their faces were taking from the falling flakes at their pace. There was minimal talking, too wrought with nerves and adrenaline at what was happening.

    They were finally doing it, and they had a fairly decent head start thus far. Why, then, did it feel as if any moment it would all come crashing down around their heads? A quick moment after eating and drinking to paint the roots of trees yellow, and the three were headed off once more along the roads, wanting to keep putting distance between them and their home. Needing to keep ahead of schedule on the timer Jade had tasked them with no matter what as if they were hunted foxes evading the hounds.

    Eventually, somewhere around mid-day, the snow stopped falling. The clouds kept their surroundings matte white and gray, but it made the setting a bit easier to cope with during the ride and John soon rode up to keep in stride with Jake. The conversation remained a little forced, however. Tense. Unable to relax. After they fell into silence again, John sighed and leaned forward to rest his chin on Dave's shoulder.

    “Jake... is it going to be like this the entire way to Derse?” he asked. “The silence, the worry that even if Jade said we'd have a day that.. I can't even put my finger on my worry.”

    “Like she said we'd have a day but if we so much as look over our shoulders we'll see a convoy thirsting for our blood?” Jake supplied.

    John hated that he immediately glanced back over his shoulder before nodding.

    “Yes. That.”

    “I don't expect it will be the entire way, no. ...Today is a bit special, I suppose,” he admitted. “I keep wondering if I'll suddenly wake back in my bed and this will have been an adventuresome dream, but we'd be stuck in the same sticky wicket as before but with even less time. Like missing a time you were meant to be awake and at an appointment for something terribly important by sleeping through it or taking a wrong path and getting lost.”

    “Ah. Yes, I understand,” John said. “That creeping feeling in your chest..”

    “I fear the maze,” Dave said suddenly.

    “Maze?” asked Jake, sounding confused. “What maze, Dave?”

    “No, no, it's. Mmm.... how to explain. The feeling of knowing where the center of the maze it, knowing you've gone there hundreds of times, know the order and plan and steps to take each turn of the way to get there swiftly, and then when you take one of the final turns it's suddenly a dead end. ...Then you turn around to go back the way you came, but that's a dead end as well. You apparently don't know how to go forward on something you swore you knew, nor can you find your way back to fix a wrong.”

    Jake whistled softly, making his mare's ear twitch.

    “Dave my boy, that's quite the way to put it. Damned if we do, damned if we don't, and the nagging niggling feeling that even if we do it's somehow leading down a different path than we thought.”

    “I kind of hate it when you have a way with words,” John muttered. “It's either poetic things designed to make my chest ache, or it's shit like this, or like that time you said that pegasi would be terrifying because you never knew when you'd suddenly be fighting for your life in a pile of dung after admiring a clear blue sky and hearing a neigh in the distance.”

    “In my defense, I still mean it. Every word of all of those things.”

    “I hate you, Dave.”

    Jake snickered at them and shook his head as they continued to playfully bicker back and forth, letting the weight on his shoulders try to lighten a bit. He may be the eldest still, but the footing was finally more even across them all. John and Dave were both fine fully grown men with their own lives and thoughts, and were the lens of the world removed and their labels stripped away they would still be two young men in love trying to help one another as best they could and get by. Perhaps he'd even be attending their wedding, were nothing larger than them all hanging over them like a cloud.

    Their thoughts and topics carried them through the long ride and into the coming dark. Though the snow had not resumed, it was not a reprieve on the horizon on their path to Skaia as their first camp of the journey awaited them. They pushed along as long as they felt was safe before finally pulling away from the road and sliding down to the ground once more with a sea of complaints. Riding long hours was hard when you weren't accustomed to it or when you weren't used to doing so in the chill conditions, and they were all quite exhausted as they pulled their belongings down and stamped down a space to set their sleeping bags down on for the night.

    John tied longer leads to the horses and secured them to a tree, giving them a bit of space to wander but not room to disappear on them, Jake supplied scoops of grains for them to savor, and Dave swayed as if half dead on his feet as he stretched bit by bit. They ate a cold dinner sat on the ground side by side, their sleeping bags touching, Dave's in the center in what they already knew was going to become a habit. Both the Prospitian's felt their own protective urges over the feisty Dersite, and with this arrangement they could satisfy them while the urge for the two lovers to be close as they could in the night as they had grown accustomed to was also tended.

    John slipped off his boots to climb into his sleeping bag, curling the tops down and over to avoid any potential snow from getting inside of them as he settled down into the cozy cavern Kanaya had made for him, tucking his face down out of view with a tired sigh before popping it back out.

    “We should have worn them the entire trip,” he crooned. “Ride side saddle like a dainty maid, be toasty warm, still get away like thieves with a golden treasure? It would be perfect. Or at least a sight better than it was today.”

    “It'll be harder come morning, John,” Jake reminded him, face still exposed to the air as he watched the sky. He saw no stars, no moon, but occasionally the clouds would thin a bit and he could see traces of light like moving water flicker in and out of view. “We'll be leaving nice toasty beds and stepping into the cold, and having to hurry all over again. ...Should we keep watch?”

    “I think.. we should just try to sleep for now,” John said. “We're all exhausted, we'll all be more exhausted tomorrow. We have our head start. We just need to wake in the morning early enough and get going again.”

    “We drank plenty of water before lying down, that should be simple,” Jake snorted. No oversleeping with an angry bladder, after all. “We'll just need to rise on first warning and then immediately set out. Push the horses harder. We made a good clip today, I want to keep that momentum tomorrow and go even faster. Try to find a decent sized village that may have some maps on offer and get one.”

    Dave had finally come back from relieving himself, still hitching his pants up on one side as he prepared for bed by removing his boots and folding his coat safely beneath the head of his sleeping bag as a cushion same as the others had. He stuffed his legs down inside the warm, soft confines and stretched... and paused. Something was down in the toe of his sleeping bag, from the feel of it. He squirmed and wiggled in the snug enclosure, trying to trap whatever it was between his feet and then inch it further upwards, straining to grab it with his hands. From the outside it looked like a long fat beetle was stuck on its back, kicking and flailing on the snow.

    “Uh. ...Dave, you doing okay in there?” John asked, watching the sleeping back rock and roll side to side.

    “Yes! There's, ah. There's something in my sleeping bag, I've nearly got it now.”

    “Something?” Jake asked. “These were in the stable for a while, what in the world crawled in to bother you? I hope you've not been bitten.”

    “No, no, it's... Ah. Got it!” Dave said triumphantly as he yanked his hands free and pulled up what he had, holding it above his face in the open air.

    The edges were stiff and folded with a harsh crease in the parchment, condensing the size of whatever it was by several sizes. Dave felt a the edges and unfolded the item carefully, squinting in the dark, straining his eye to see.

    “Paper?” came John's voice, the entire upper half of his sleeping bag rising up with Jake's following a moment later when Dave finished unfolding the thing to its full size. The clouds overhead yawned an opening as if by fate, allowing a glimpse more light from the moon through than the rippling slivers that had been keeping them company thus far. Dave blinked slowly and stared.

    “...It's a map,” he said softly. “It's messy. But it's a map.”

    “A map?” Jake asked, trying to bend down to peer up from Dave's angle, only to cuss when the clouds covered the moon once more, playing hard to get.

    “A map,” Dave confirmed, folding it back up cautiously, keeping the stiff edges aligned. “I didn't see it super clearly, but I'd know the signs of Prospit, Skaia and Derse anywhere.”

    John was the first to flop back down as Dave tucked the map back into his sleeping bag, keeping it safe by his side for the evening.

    “Hah. Now I have to ensure we can go home someday, even just to visit. I need to look Karkat in the face and tell him we caught him caring about something.”

#Homestuck #JohnDave #John Egbert #Dave Strider #Jake English #Jane Crocker #Jade Harley #Karkat Vantas

[worthlesspride]

Heey!! I don´t know if it´s too much to ask but... I really, really wanted to see more Tensemi scenes (just their normal life/routine as a couple :P), you know I´m so weak for them!! :3 I´m also obsessed with Kyoutani and Zeno hahaha It would be lovely to see them meeting Yahaba at some point.... please? I know he is not even in the story but I can´t escape from Kyouhaba hell so easily...( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Thank you soo muchh!!! :3

Heyyy! ^^ Of course it’s not too much to ask! This is the first time I’ve written anything Kyouhaba, so thanks for making me do it! And you know I’m always up for more Tensemi. Thanks so much for the ask!!

Everytwo months, all canine officers were required to complete a solid weekend ofspecialized training. It was much more intensive than the training for regularofficers, because much more was expected of them. Canine partners were a greatasset, but if they weren’t used properly, they could also be a huge liability.In fact, Kyoutani’s predecessor on the canine squad had been fired because hisdog had attacked an innocent civilian.

           Kyoutani understood the need for theextra training, but he still hated it.

           It was held in Fukushima, and he hadto drive nearly three hours each way in horrible traffic with no one exceptZeno for company.  

           He didn’t mind Zeno’s company. Infact, he much preferred his dog to any human he’d ever met. Still, it wasn’t asif he could have a conversation with him to pass the time, and Zeno didn’t likewhen Kyoutani turned on the radio.

           It was a three-hour ride with onlythe sound of Zeno’s excited panting to break the silence.

           Needless to say, by the time hearrived at the training facility, he was a little on edge.

           Zeno, on the other hand, wasecstatic. Kyoutani barely got the lead attached to Zeno’s harness before thedog bounded out of the car, pulling toward the building before Kyoutani yankedhim back.

           “Calm down,” he mumbled, as heleaned into the cruiser for his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “It’s notlike you’re going to learn anything new. You already know all this shit.”

           Zeno’s tongue lolled as he looked upat him, black eyes bright.

           Kyoutani huffed and felt his badmood ease just a little bit. It was hard to hate everything when there was abundle of tail wags and excited energy bouncing around at his feet.

           He kicked the car door shut, circledaround the rear bumper, and started toward the training facility.

           There was a stretch of perfectlymaintained lawn out front, sweeping to either side of a paved walkway. On theleft, a sleek black Doberman bounded across the grass, stubby tail twitching asit leaped to snatch a frisbee out of the air. It trotted back to a man whostood in a patch of shade beneath a large red pine. He knelt to take thefrisbee, gave the dog a gentle pat, and turned his head as he caught sight ofKyoutani from the corner of his eye.

           Kyoutani stopped walking. He didn’tdo it on purpose; he just briefly forgot where he was supposed to be going.

           The man rose out of his crouch,frisbee in hand. The Doberman sat at attention in front of him, waitingpatiently.

           “Hey,” said the man, a little loudlyto carry across the slight distance. “You look thirsty.”

           Kyoutani’s brow folded in confusion.“What?”

           The man grabbed a water bottle thathad been resting against the trunk of the tree. He jogged over, the Dobermanfollowing a close step behind.

           Zeno pulled at his harness sosuddenly that Kyoutani nearly lost his balance. He tugged him back, snapped athim to stop, and received only a twitch of an ear in response.

           If Kyoutani had used officialcommands, Zeno would have listened without hesitation. He’d never had anobedience problem. But Kyoutani only used those commands when they were workingor training. The rest of the time he felt Zeno shouldn’t have to be bossedaround.

           “I was talking to your dog,” the mansaid. He tossed the frisbee on the ground, upside-down, and uncapped the waterbottle to pour some into the makeshift bowl. He nudged it toward Zeno, wholapped at the gift happily. “What’s his name?”      

           “None of your business,” saidKyoutani.

           The man’s eyebrows rose. He didn’tlook offended, only skeptical. “Actually, it is my business. I’m a trainer.”

           “No, you’re not,” said Kyoutani.

           The man stared at him. Then heslowly looked down at the name plate pinned to his chest, which declared:“Yahaba Shigeru, Canine Trainer”.

           Kyoutani read the name a few times,then slowly looked back up to find the man watching him. “Oh.”

           Yahaba smiled a little, just aslight quirk of his lips. “Yeah. I only started working here about a month ago.We haven’t met. I would remember you.”

           Kyoutani didn’t know if that was supposedto be an insult.

           “What’s your name?” asked Yahaba,when it became clear that Kyoutani wasn’t going to say anything more.

           Kyoutani cleared his throat.“Kyoutani Kentarou.”

           “Kyoutani,” repeated Yahaba. “Niceto meet you. What’s your partner’s name?”

           “Zeno.” This time he offered itwithout argument.

           Yahaba dropped into a crouch andoffered a hand. “Nice to meet you, Zeno.”

           Zeno tilted his head, then placedhis paw in Yahaba’s hand. Yahaba scratched him behind the ears and he pantedhappily.

           The Doberman crept closer, earsforward, focused on Zeno.

           “Stay back, Roxy,” said Yahaba, noteven looking at her.

           The dog scooted back and sat down.

           “Which PD do you work for?” saidYahaba.

           “Tokyo.”

           Yahaba blinked, surprised. “Really?You wouldn’t happen to be the guy who has the fastest record on the bomb threatsimulation, would you?”

           Kyoutani grunted an affirmative.“Zeno’s smart.”

           Zeno wagged his tail, as if heunderstood the compliment.

           Yahaba considered the pair of themwith a single raised brow. “I’m sure he is. I guess I’ll find out, since you’llbe in my training classes all weekend.”

Kyoutanididn’t know what to say to that. The last time he’d been here, his trainer hadbeen a sixty-year-old man with a bad attitude.

Thiswas going to be a little different, to say the least.

“Itwas nice to meet you, Kyoutani-san,” said Yahaba. He collected the frisbee offof the ground and sent it into a perfect arc, stray water droplets sprinklingfrom the disc like light rain. Roxy the Doberman went running after it at fullspeed, swiping it out of the air with perfect agility. Zeno pulled restlesslyat his harness and Kyoutani held him in place.

           “You too,” mumbled Kyoutani, lookingaway as he said it.

           He caught the curve of Yahaba’ssmile just before the man turned away and returned to the shade of the pine.

           That smile made Kyoutani’s stomachclench, and it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant feeling. He glanced at Zeno, whowas staring up at him.

           “Don’t look at me like that,” saidKyoutani. “He’s probably a shitty trainer.”

           Zeno snorted and looked toward Yahabaand Roxy again.

           Kyoutani hoped Yahaba was a shittytrainer. He needed a reason not to like him, because he hadn’t been given oneyet. He actually seemed nice, in a dumb, kind of pretty way.

           Kyoutani mentally cursed himself andturned to stomp toward the building, Zeno keeping perfect pace. The dog lookedfar too smug for his own good.

           Just before he opened the door,Kyoutani tossed one quick look over his shoulder. Yahaba was already looking athim, and he waved in Kyoutani’s direction.

           Kyoutani turned away, ducked inside,and pretended his face wasn’t burning.

“WhenI said we could go wherever you wanted,” said Semi, “I meant literally anywherebut here.”

           The protest came too late. Semi andTendou were already sitting at a table, surrounded by draping ivy and filteredlight and other couples who gave them strange looks when they thought no onewould see.

           “Come on, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou.He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his palm. “Last timewe came here on a date we had a good time.”

           “Last time Oikawa was still in thehospital and he made us check up on the restaurant,” said Semi flatly. “Ididn’t come by choice then, either.”

           The complaining was more for hisimage than anything. Semi didn’t mind visiting Sapphire Grove. The food wasgood, the waiters were polite, and their bartender made a fantastic mint julep.

           The downside, though, was thecompany.

           “Welcome!” said Oikawa, sweepingover to their table with a grin. “It’s a pleasure to have you here at SapphireGrove. What can I get you gentlemen to drink this evening?”

           Tendou grinned at the display, butSemi’s stare was flat. “If you’re the one serving our food then we’re leaving.”

           “Now, now, Semi-chan,” said Oikawa.“Get rid of that bad attitude.” He leaned against the back of Tendou’s chair.“Put on a smile for your date.”

           Semi’s scowl intensified. “Don’t youhave any actual work to do?”

           “I am working,” said Oikawa. “I’mmaking sure my customers are comfortable.”

           “We’d be more comfortable with acouple of mint juleps,” said Tendou, tilting his head back to look at Oikawaupside-down. “We get drinks on the house, right? Friends and family discount?”

           Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “Did youonly come here to take advantage of my hospitality?”

           “We would never,” said Tendou. “Howcould you even suggest such a thing?”

           Oikawa didn’t look convinced, but hegave in anyway. “I’ll have Suga bring your drinks.”

           Tendou called out a “Thank you!” atOikawa’s retreating back. Several of the other customers turned to look, but hewas unbothered.

           “You don’t like mint juleps,” saidSemi.

           “Nah, but you do,” said Tendou.“They’re both for you. Maybe I can get you drunk and take advantage of you.”

           Semi snorted. “That only works onpeople who don’t want to have sex with you.”

           “Are you saying you want to have sexwith me?”

           “Apparently, if last night was anyindication.”

           Tendou laughed, drawing anotherflutter of glances. Semi smiled too, though it was subdued.

           “You know,” said Tendou after amoment, “I like Oikawa, but I really can’t picture it.”

           “Picture what?”

           “The two of you,” said Tendou,waving a hand. “Together. And not even because we’re together now, it’s justthe dynamics. It doesn’t make sense.”

           Semi sighed and sat back in hischair. “I was a lot different then. That was the only reason it worked. Itwouldn’t, now. We’ve changed too much.”

           Tendou’s stare was unwavering. Whenthey’d first met, the intensity of his stares had unsettled Semi, but now hewas used to it.

           “I hope you’re finished changing,”said Tendou. “I like you the way you are.”

           Heat spilled into Semi’s face and helooked away with a scowl. “Shut up.”

           Tendou grinned and said nothingelse.

           As expected, the food was good, thedrinks were better, and Oikawa didn’t even charge them. Semi waited untilTendou wasn’t paying attention and left a handful of yen on the table anyway,because he didn’t want to feel like he was accepting anyone’s charity.

           He knew it wasn’t like that withOikawa, but he didn’t want the illusion of it, anyway.

           It was a fifteen-minute walk home.Semi still considered the apartment to be Tendou’s, though he’d been livingthere after the incident. He assumed his old apartment had been rented out tosomeone new, though he didn’t care enough to check. He didn’t know what hadhappened to all of his stuff, either. He hadn’t bothered going back to retrieveit, because he didn’t care enough about it to have to face that apartmentagain. He was content with what he had.

           When they were a block away from theapartment, Tendou reached out and threaded their fingers together. Semi tuckedhis free hand in his pocket and said nothing.

           “What’re you thinking about?” saidTendou.

           “Nothing.”

           “Your forehead is all wrinkled.You’re thinking about something.”

           Semi sighed. “I was thinking I hatemy life a lot less than I used to.”

           “You’re so optimistic, Semi-Semi.You are a beacon of hope in this world.”

           Semi bumped him with a shoulder. “Shutup. You asked.”

           They didn’t speak again until they’dascended to Tendou’s apartment and kicked off their shoes. Semi started throughthe living room, intending to head to the shower, but Tendou caught his wristand tugged him back.

           “If you don’t hate your life,” saidTendou, “does that mean maybe you’re kind of happy?”

           Semi frowned at him and looked away.“I don’t know. I guess so.”

           “You know if you’re not happy herewith me, you don’t have to stay.”

           Semi looked up, a ripple of surprisemaking his fingers tingle. “What?”

           “If you’re not happy-”

           “Stop it,” said Semi, cutting himoff. “Don’t say shit like that. I’m as happy right now as I’m ever going to be.If I was anywhere else, with anyone else, I’d be fucking miserable.”

           The subtle tension in Tendou’s facebled into a smile. “So romantic, Semi-Semi.”

           Semi rolled his eyes. He pulled hisarm out of Tendou’s grasp and took his hand instead. “I’m not good at this kindof thing, but you know I love you, right?”

           Tendou’s smile was radiant. “I know.”He stepped closer and tucked a piece of hair behind Semi’s ear, fingerstrailing along his jaw, palm lightly cradling the side of his face. “Eventhough you hide it well with that bad attitude.”

           Before Semi could make a snarkycomeback, Tendou leaned in and kissed the words off of his lips. It was briefand sweet and Semi felt himself thawing, as he always did when he was withTendou.

           “I love you too, Semi-Semi,” saidTendou, murmuring the words against Semi’s lips.

           Semi smiled into their next kiss, perfectlycontent.

           He didn’t know if he’d ever be trulyhappy as normal people seemed to be, but as long as he had this, he had nocomplaints.

#ask #writing #wycf #kyouhaba #tensemi

[mintypothos]

Sirens and Shipwrecks

@hubris-but-no-writing I was that anon about the mer fic a couple days ago

so this is what would have been the one shot, only I realized I wanted to do another part or two with it. But also I have this track record where when I tell any person at all that I’ll write something, it never gets finished. So in light of that, I decided to post what I do have in case the rest of this doesn’t pan out and gets stuck half finished. When/if I do finish my idea, I’ll clean it up and post properly on ao3. So this is, in every sense, a rough first draft. 

Please read this fic’s main inspiration, The Human World; It’s a Mess by @hubris-but-no-writing It is excellent and features Burr as the merperson and the squad as humans

Also this is my first time writing a polyam ship (in this case, burr/revset or /squad or /revsquad, whatever you want to call it), even if it’s barely present here. Honestly i need more practice writing conversations between more than 2 people in general

other notes- merfolk have a perfect understanding of the english language and use the same distance measurements/body language and yet don’t know certain specific words or gestures because shhhhh

Aaron woke up to sand in his mouth. It took a moment for him to realize it wasn't figurative, for all that he was also feeling bone dry. Aaron coughed weakly, pitifully. Every inch of him felt boneless and raw.

“Wh-” He coughed again, choking on sand granules. Aaron pulled his body up and over his legs in an approximate kneel, though he felt heavier than lead. The movement shifted Aaron into piping hot sand that scalded, and he yelped. Then he winced- his voice came out weak and strangled, and it tore his throat just to make it.

“Oh, he sat up!” A foreign voice, crystal clear and completely unbothered, rang from somewhere behind him, and Aaron froze in shock.

“Humans sleep far too much.” Chimed another voice, followed by a splash and the slap of skin against skin.

“It's because he was hurt, we went over that already.” This one was deeper, but still strangely melodic and refreshing-a ringing church bell carried on an ocean breeze. Slowly, Aaron blinked his eyes open, immediately tearing up from both the sand burrowing between eyelids and the harsh light of the sun. Rubbing his eyes only made the problem worse, but he worked at it anyways, the incoherent light slowly separating into colours and shapes, then in sand, rocks, and trees.

“Wait what, he's awake!? Holy shit guys, shut up!” A fourth person, loud like the echoes of a conch horn. Aaron blinked again, turning his body to get a look at whoever was behind him. He should be more afraid, jumping up and defending himself the moment he knew he wasn't alone. But Aaron was very tired, and considered it a victory that he was even able to face the strangers. His skin pulled painfully as he readjusted himself, in a way that only awful sunburns ever could. “He's turning around, what do we do!?” The conch-shell voice again, sounding slightly familiar somehow.

Aaron blinked. In front of him now was a very picturesque beach, the white-blue waves frothing onto golden pale sand. The ocean stretched as far as Aaron could see, enveloping his entire field of view, save for the four figures half extended from the surf. All of them inhumanly handsome men, and all of them with looks of excited awe. The closest, with dark yet bright eyes and long, similarly deep coloured hair loosely tied back, lurched forward as Aaron met eyes with him. Had they met-?

A laugh, beautiful brass notes. Lovely words, not honeyed, but bright and curious- “Burr, put your fucking plugs back in, they lure veterans to their death, and you aren't even a sailor!”.

An indignant chiming, then annoyance, “Thomas, he's not trying anything, calm down. I'm wearing that stupid harness besides,”

Aaron winced again, feeling for his head and finding a painful lump, covered by a mass of wet seaweed somehow tangled around his head. That would explain why his brain seemed so muddled. He remembered- wait, what was the last thing he remembered?

“Is the human okay?” the first voice, belonging to a face framed by a storm of freckles and bushy hair, crowded just behind the vaguely familiar man. Aaron wondered why they kept saying 'human', like they weren't. Then another one of them, bigger and heavyset, pulled himself forward on his hands and what should have been his knees, only as he moved forward his backside disappeared into the sleek, powerful tail of a sea creature. The sight was shocking, but not as much as the sudden images it brought back to Aaron's mind.

“I've been yelling at you to change course all day- you stupid humans! I've been trying to help, and you dare to think I'd do this!?”

“Just- just don't let your little boat flip over, okay? I don't want you to sink when I finally found a human who will talk to me.”

The ground heaving up and down, wood slicked by rain water. Roiling waves reaching up to meet him- human flesh blending into fish under his tight grip and the salt water burning his throat. Thomas and James screaming for him as a rope snapped, the flip of a giant tail before another wave crashed down on him. “Aaron!”

“Whe-” Aaron coughed as he tried speaking again, but this time he could feel the words working, even if it did rasp painfully. “Where am I? Did- something happened to the ship..?” He still didn't have the full picture, but it was coming together. He remembered now the sailboat trip with Thomas and James, mainly that he hadn't even wanted to go, but they had insisted- Aaron had spent too much of the holiday holed away in the resort. “The other two I was with, are they alright?”

“I think so,” The one Aaron had somehow and at some previous point spoken too assured, his hands raised in placation. “You were thrown off the boat and by the time I got you, I couldn't get you back to it again. It was a bad storm, but probably not bad enough to sink a ship of that size. If only you could have kept your feet on it, though.” The information made sense, fitting into what little Aaron could piece together. “By the way, do you remember me? We spent the day learning about each other's species. It looks like you kind of do, but also like you don't quite? But you aren't freaking out about the tail thing like you did when we first met..”

The chatter certainly rang a bell, Aaron realized, even as he sagged in relief at the possibility his friends were safe. Merfolk, a fantastical and extremely elusive race that very few humans ever saw, and of course one shows up on his very first voyage just to fire off a thousand questions when Aaron didn't immediately pop in his spelled earplugs.

“I remember pieces, but not a lot”, Aaron admitted. Mere fragments, especially considering his usually excellent memory.

“That's okay. We met yesterday. I brought you to the only piece of land nearby, and Herc helped patch you up, or at least your head.”

The bigger Mer nodded at that, and scooted forward again. “I set that wrap at least six hours ago, I could check it for you again?”

Aaron realized with sudden clarity that the seaweed was a wrapped bandage around his injury, not a random tangle, and immediately he brought both hands up to feel. It was pulled tight, professionally, and neatly knotted at one end. Instinctively, he tugged. “Hey- don't do that!” A tail slapped against the shallow water, startling Aaron. “You don't want to jostle that and lose the poultice John made, you need it to heal.”

Instinctively, that made Aaron peer at the remaining mer, for one of them should be this John. Sure enough, the freckled one dipped his head, almost shyly. “It was a rush job, but I used my best ingredients.” He gave as explanation as Aaron stared.

“Thank you.” Aaron said, to be polite but also out of genuine gratefulness. Consciously, he brought his hands back down so as not to disturb the dressing. He let them fall, fidgeting as his palms came into contact with more fresh sand, uncomfortably warm from contact with the sun that hadn't been shaded by his unconscious body. “Would any of you happen to know where I could get some freshwater? And, if it's no trouble, the nearest human settlement?” He needed to get out of the sun, too. Hell, maybe he could just pass out under those trees and find civilization later, Aaron wasn't even certain if he could stand, never mind walk however many miles away the nearest harbour was.

His question was met with four incredulous stares.

“What is freshwater?” John, the freckled one queried with an honest air of confusion, like Aaron had asked for the magic-force unification equation. Maybe it was a stupid question, Merfolk probably filtered the water they needed as all ocean species did. Simply looking human-like said little about their biology.

“Oh, new human friend, you would leave us so quickly?” The Mer that hadn't spoken directly to Aaron yet, tight curls bound even tighter behind his head, crawled closer to him as well, the last to leave the relative safety of deeper water. Audaciously, he pulled himself entirely out of the water, shimmying over the hot sand beside Aaron. This close up, Aaron realized the mer was very long. Longer than the one who had bandaged his head, but much slighter of frame such that he didn't appear so big at first. He slowly blinked, fluttering his long eyelashes and smiling almost flirtatiously. “We have only just met.”

“Lafayette oh my god.” One of the others muttered under their breath. Aaron ignored it, more concerned about the 'oh wow, mermaids' factor now that one erased the barrier of space between them.

“Uhhm,” Aaron forced out. He should probably push the mer away? Or something? But there was something so beautiful, so ethereal that he almost felt incapable of touching. A hand carefully reached up to Aaron, with long, perfectly elegant and almost delicate fingers offset by the very non-human webbing between each digit. Each finger was topped by a cheerfully coloured yet deadly sharp claw. “I do not mean to offend, only that-” He cut himself off as the hand gently touched at Aaron's cheek. It was cold and wet, and should have been clammy but was instead soothing.

“My apologies, little one. Your eyes are just captivating. I have been waiting for them to open.”

Aaron felt dizzy. Now was not the time to be blushing like a schoolgirl, but his heart pounded regardless. “Um,” he said again, uselessly. “My name is Aaron Burr”, he corrected, just so he wouldn't say 'little one' again.

The mer infront of him lit up at the words, but the three still in the surf shifted excitedly as well. “I am honoured you trust me with your name, little Burr!” Why were they so pleased by a simple name? And furthermore, if having his name was 'an honour', why did he call Aaron 'little' again? The mer took his hand away from Aaron's face to prop under his own chin as he leaned further into the sand beside him. Aaron tried not to miss the comforting coolness. “My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, though you may call me Lafayette.”

This, inexplicably, sparked annoyance throughout the group. “Asshole, I was going to give him my name first. I found him, you know” The familiar Mer pouted.

“You had your chance, Alexander.” Lafayette's smirk was wide and smug. “How can you expect me to resist a name-bond?”

“Name bond?” Aaron croaked out, baffled again.

“Do humans not know about it? I thought they all had magic, too?” The freckled one frowned. “If humans don't even have magic compatibility, that poultice won't work at all.” His frown deepened, and he started worrying his lip.

“No, we are.” Aaron interrupted the thought process. “There's not a lot of witches- people who use magic- but we're all compatible. All sentient creatures are..?” Aaron trailed off, uncertain. There were some confirmed fantastical species, and they all certainly were, but the field of magic study had never been well developed.

The freckled one brightened, like the sun had come back up again. “Yes, that's what we were hoping!” And then, he shot a sly look at the familiar one. “My name is John Laurens, at your service.”

The familiar one sputtered. The one who had bandaged him laughed, joining in. “I am Hercules Mulligan. Don't mind Alex, he's just jealous.” Lafayette, still beside him, chuckled at that, and Aaron skipped a beat, faltering at how beautiful the sound was and how close it was to his ear.

The familiar one huffed, impossibly blushing, and surged forwards out of the water as well. “Alexander Hamilton.” He flopped at Aaron's other side, holding a hand out in front of Aaron's nose. “This is how humans greet, right? I've observed that much.”

Hesitantly, Aaron shook the proffered hand. Alexander's grip was awkward and too strong, but the handshake was surprisingly natural for someone who had only ever seen it from a distance. The Mer focused laser-sharp on their hands, smiling brightly at Aaron when they released, only a few moments longer than Aaron was used to.

Of course, this caused the final two- Hercules and John- to approach as well, curious at the exchange. “Can I try shaking your hand, Aaron?”John gave a smile that felt sugar sweet, even if it made sharp teeth poke out from between his lips.

The attention was overwhelming, and Aaron reached for something to say. “So, why is ah, Lafayette's name so much longer? I mean, does he hail from somewhere else, or do all Mer names vary like that?”

Lafayette perked up at the mention, and opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly Aaron realized. “Wait, no, hold up. I asked where the nearest human settlement was. You distracted me.” He tried to glare at Lafayette, who paused in confusion, before closing his mouth in a slight grimace and glancing away from Aaron for the first time.

Aaron looked around, and the expression was mirrored on all of the mer. His chest filled with dread. “Hey, come on.” Tails shifted, fingers twiddled.

Finally, Alexander let out a short, loud breath before meeting Aaron's eyes with his own sheepish gaze. “This is our island. It was the only dry land I could get you to, your ship was already far from the human populated islands, and I don't even know exactly how to get to them either, because obviously we can't get to close to human shores anyways. I was just so afraid that you would drown, I don't know how much it takes to kill humans, and I would have brought you around the other side to the coves we use, but I had to get you to shore first, and then you weren't awake, and-!” He caught his breath, looking more guilty now than sheepish. “I'm sorry. There's no humans on this island. Please don't be mad.”

And so the other shoe falls, Aaron thought, his mind in shock. Objectively, he should immediately worry that this was all a ruse and he'd been abducted by Merfolk. Myth always said that they could control the waves and currents, and used their beautiful melodic voices to lure sailors. But Aaron also pride himself as a good judge of bullshit, and the person in front of him didn't appear to have a dishonest bone in his body. The expressions of awkward guilt from the others seemed very real as well.

Of course, abducted or not, he was still the only human apparently stuck on an uninhabited island. The dryness in his throat and the pain of his body seemed all the more pressing now. He may not be alone, but his companions were of a species that didn't even know what freshwater was. Finally, Aaron found the strength to attempt standing, pushing his legs down and under his center of gravity. It was every bit as difficult as Aaron imagined, his feet so weak and unsteady that he nearly toppled over several times on the way to standing fully.

“Wait, where are you going, please don't leave!” Alexander reached out to him, but didn't grab or pull. Aaron was thankful, he suspected that it would only take a light tap to knock him over.

“Stay with us, little Burr, those legs do not look like they will hold you.” The words should have been teasing, but there was a noticeable edge of concern. Aaron felt himself further crowded, the merfolk edging closer, looking at him like Aaron was a frightened, injured animal that they were trying to nurse. Perhaps that wasn't so inaccurate.  

“I have to go further inland. My skin is burning up in the sun, and I need food and freshwater- not ocean water, it's too salty and only dehydrates humans more.”

“Oh, you meant landwater?”

“Well why didn't you say that earlier, we know what landwater is, there's a river just a few miles down that way.” John pointed helpfully to Aaron's right. “You'll have to go inland a bit to get to the landwater, but there is plenty of it. That's why we claimed this island in the first place, it's got enough waterways to explore all over.” He nodded, looking proud.

A few miles felt much too far in Aaron's mind, which was now starting to pound. But at least there was water to be had at all. Aaron supposed it was silly to assume they had no concept whatsoever of non-ocean water. He took a few steps, weak and short and painful. He attempted to go around Lafayette to the direction needed, but the Mer threw his hands out to block Aaron.

“No, please, let me carry you there, through the water. You look in pain.” Lafayette fluttered too-long eyelashes.

“I...” Aaron was again unsure of himself. “I don't need help. I can do it.” The pleading looks of his new companions spoke differently. Aaron should be firm about this, shouldn't he? He should be uncomfortable at the idea of letting a Mer drag him back into the water, especially when he was so weak.

“Aaron, please.” This time it was Hercules, reaching out to gently touch Aaron's shoulder. “Humans eat fish, right? How about I go catch some for you, while you let Lafayette take you up the river. He'll find some shade for you, and John can check that dressing.”

Aaron hesitated. Lafayette held a hand out, while John agreed loudly. “I'll go ahead and make a spot for you to rest!” Alexander said, clearly itching for something to do. “I've seen humans eat the insides of coconuts, I'll prepare some of those as well!” Four pairs of eyes stared beseechingly at him. He could only nod slightly, carefully clasping the hand held out to him.

This had to be the weirdest shipwrecking anyone had gone through.

#fic #sirens and shipwrecks #i have 5 pages of story notes and ideas and 5 pages of actual writing #sounds about right #hamilton #burr/everyone #burr/revset #burr/revsquad #i dont know whats the dominate name for the hamilton laurens mulligan lafayette quartet #seriously go read that other fic tho