#i think i wanted to write a small fic to accompany this however i never got around to it

[blairrwaldorfs]

High Infidelity

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Did you really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? Did you really have to tell him how he brought you back to life?

Author's Note: Babe by Taylor Swift, High Infidelity by Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift, My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. I don't know... I don't know... I don't know. My mind is all over the place the past week and needed to write this down for some distraction. I don't know... I never done a back to back series nor have written something like this, so yeah. Forgive me for all the trigger warnings. Everything is all so crazy. This is a very very hard thing to write because of past emotional abuse experiences in real life that still terrorizes me and maybe it's a letter for the past experience to let it go.

Disclaimer: 18+, emotional abuse, mention of harming, infidelity

(Please, please don't read this if it triggers you. I need you all to think hard about it before reading this one. This is a bit of a dark fic).

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - epilogue

“Late again?” 

Your boyfriend, Eli, asked you the moment you entered the flat. You were kicking off your shoes by the front door, eyes full of exhaustion as you sighed. He was by the kitchen heating up some leftovers. You didn’t exactly understand how it was “late” because technically it was only 9pm.

“Yeah, the event went pretty late.” You replied.

You technically left the event early knowing that Eli would start asking where you were. That was how he was these days. Keeping count of everything you did.

You were technically not an official assistant in the team. You just started this job, and it was more of a paid internship that you applied to because you needed the money, and it paid really well. You worked for Joseph Quinn’s team. A British actor who got pushed into the limelight too fast after his appearance in Stranger Things.

Joe was nice. His team was nice and very organized and all you had to do was bring Joe’s things, get coffee, and help his team organize whatever they needed for Joe. 

That was all. 

Nothing too complicated.

Nothing for you to really complain about nor do something that could ruin this whole internship that you applied for. 

Well, at least that was what you thought. 

“That’s a nice dress.” Eli stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes studying you as he ate a piece of chicken. 

For some reason, his eyes studying you like that made you feel angry and annoyed. It wasn’t like he was doing anything to you, but the tone of his voice was making you feel annoyed. 

“Thanks. I’ll go freshen up.” You gave him a small smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips before heading down the hall. 

“I’m sure many men were staring at you tonight.” Eli added his little comment that made you stop halfway from your steps and looked over your shoulder.

“I was just doing my job, assisting.” You reassured him before continuing down the hall and into your bedroom.

You weren’t going to lie. Your relationship with Eli for the past two years has been rough. He was constantly jealous, constantly making rude comments about what you wear and how you wore your makeup to the point where you had stopped putting makeup on. You had changed your whole closet to just jeans, t-shirt or jumpers. You changed your whole style and personality because you didn’t want any trouble from Eli. You didn’t want to disappoint him. 

However, this new job of yours came with the responsibility of dressing up and wearing makeup when you accompany Joe through the many events or movie premieres. That made Eli squirm even more for the last four months whenever you came home wearing a nice dress and nice makeup. He would comment how the dress was too short or the dress was too revealing. 

“I wore a jacket, don’t worry.” You would tell him. 

“Next time, pick one that isn’t so revealing.” Eli would scoff. “You’re mine. You don’t need other men looking at you.” 

You could feel the love in your relationship was slowly fading, and you didn’t know how to get out of it. You were too scared to do something about it. Terrified even what he could react or say towards this decision of yours if you ever decided to cut this off. Eli had been very aggressive towards his words to you and sometimes, even if he wouldn’t say something, you could see the disappointment all over his face. You were a people pleaser, and you were the kind of person who didn’t want any trouble, so you tried to give what he wanted most of the time.

It made you hide inside yourself even more. It made you feel insecure. It made you terrified of every decision you made because you didn’t want to upset him. You didn’t want to see that reaction on his face even if his lips were saying something else. It made you feel like you were walking on broken glass every time. 

Sliding yourself under the covers next to Eli that night, you saw his eyes studying you the moment you entered the room and brushed your hair in front of your vanity. His eyes never left you until you laid next to him. He immediately moved himself close to you and pulled you in his arms, hugging you from behind. 

“So, how many more events do you have to go to?” He asked.

You sighed, closing your eyes. Eli was never interested in your job. You knew he was asking about it, so he knew what he was expecting. By that, it meant he would be monitoring the outfits that you would wear and the people that would be around you in that event.

“Not sure.” You murmured. “I’ll let you know once my supervisor lets me know.”

Eli lets out a soft hum and kisses you on your cheek before turning you to face him and kisses you roughly on the lips, towering over you. For a second, you went with it and kissed him back, pushing your body against his and letting him have what he wanted. He lets his soft fingers slide the strap of your tank top, kissing your bare shoulder. His lips found the skin of your neck as he softly sucked onto the skin, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“Babe.” You whispered, slowly pulling away. “I’m tired. I’m early tomorrow.”

Eli sighed, letting himself laid back down on the bed next to you. 

“You’re always tired.” He argued. “The last time we had sex was last week.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired today, and I have to get up early tomorrow.” You turned your back on him, closing your eyes. 

“Right.” Eli said sarcastically, getting up from the bed.

You looked over your shoulder, sitting up on the bed as he made his way towards the door.

“No, c’mon. Don’t be so upset.” You said.

You could see it all over his eyes that was getting upset, and you knew if you didn’t do something about this, he wouldn’t talk to you for the next two days. He would make up an excuse that he was busy and that he would be with his friends. 

“Come here.” You reached your hand out to him as he paused in his tracks and stared at your hand. 

He gave you a small smile and walked towards the side of your bed, taking your hand in his as he kissed you hungrily and towered over you on the bed. You let him touch you in all the ways he wanted to, but you just felt numb. You couldn’t breathe as you stared into the white ceiling and kissed him back softly, letting his fingers brush against your burning skin. You felt disassociated as he kissed you hungrily and pushed himself inside of you. 

You felt nothing but disgusted with yourself for being so weak.  

That was how you have been feeling lately with your relationship. You felt trapped and you felt like a chain has been around your neck lately, and Eli was pulling it every chance he got. 

“Hey, could you go to the coffee shop down the block to get everyone coffee?” Alex, Joe’s manager, asked, interrupting your thoughts the next day. 

“Uh…sure.” Alex handed you a piece of paper with everyone’s orders. 

Your job was always simple but as time went on, your interaction with certain people became more frequent. In the beginning, Joe couldn’t even look at you nor acknowledge you that much unless he was thanking you for bringing him the things he needed. Then, Alex and his team had gotten busier that the things in your list were starting to add up. Part of your job has been added to “make sure Joe is in this place at a certain time,” or “make sure Joe wears this suit instead of this.”

Then, there was the chore that Alex would give you to make sure that his collar, tie or buttons on his shirt was perfect before he stepped out of the red carpet. 

“Do you enjoy your job?” Joe had asked you that one time when you had sat on the sofa of his dressing room, waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. 

“Sure.” Your voice almost sounded so monotone that Joe couldn’t even believe your answer. 

He sat there and tilted his head at you, one brow raised and waited for your real answer. You let out a deep breath, closing the magazine that you were reading and set it back on the table.

“I guess it’s okay. Couldn’t complain.” You shrugged.

Joe let out a soft understanding hum and focused his attention back to his phone, scrolling his time away. He was getting ready for his movie premiere, and you were there to make sure that everything he needed was there. That he looked perfect right before he stepped out of the red carpet.

Not that you hated your job but sometimes, it could get so repetitive that you looked bored after the events. The rest of Joe’s team would go and prepare whatever they needed to, and you would just make sure Joe was fine. That he didn’t need anything. 

“Here.” Joe handed you a glass of martini at the after party of the premiere.

“No, thanks. I’m technically still working.” 

“And looked bored.” Joe’s face was a little too close to yours as he whispered those words.

You hesitated, your eyes scanning the room trying to look for a sign of Alex. Joe couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head.

“They went home. So, technically you’re the only one left here.” Joe answered the question that you were asking in your head. “C’mon. You deserve it for working so hard all the time.”

Pursing your lips, you stared at the glass that Joe was holding before finally taking it from his hand and taking a sip of it. Joe smiled and took a sip of his own drink, his eyes scanning the room before falling back to you.

“Are you usually this quiet?” Joe asked.

“I’m just doing my job.” You answered, a small smile creeping up on Joe’s face. “I don’t want to interrupt anyone.”

“You’re not interrupting me.” Joe smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

You could tell he already had a few drinks before this conversation. You continued to drink the glass of martini in your hand and didn’t reply a word to what Joe said. You could tell the alcohol was making him a little bolder, and he was trying to flirt. You didn’t want to step into any boundaries because first of all, it was inappropriate, and you didn’t want to lose this job either.

“So, how long have you been here in London?” Joe asked.

“About two years.” Your answers were plain and simple as Joe continued to play 20 questions with you. 

By the end of the night, you both seemed to open up to each other a little bit more, and you were able to learn Joe more personally. The thing was that you didn’t realize that night was going to be a start of something new between you and him because ever since that event, Joe’s attention was on you most of the time. He would gaze down at you and give you small smiles, while you would fix his collar or tie before he stepped out onto the red carpet.

Then, during after parties, you would be left to babysit Joe, and you would notice how his eyes would catch your eyes across the room. You sat in the corner and minded your own business, your focus on your phone. However, Joe would walk towards you and catch your attention.

“Wanna dance?” Joe held out his hand.

You bit your lower lip and said, “I don’t dance, sorry.”

Joe sighed and sat next to you, his eyes lingering on the screen of your work phone. 

“Whatever Alex is telling you to do can wait ‘til tomorrow.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have a full to-do list.”

Joe laughed softly, raising his brow at you. “A full to-do list? I’m the one who has to stand in front of those cameras and do the interviews, remember?”

Joe had a point. 

Though, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “True.” 

You and Joe would talk for the rest of the night. You both would laugh and tease each other. You both would start talking about personal things, and he somehow was able to understand you well. It made your heart swell a little bit. 

It wasn’t right that you felt this way towards Joe because you were in a relationship. You could just easily let Joe know that you weren’t single and that whatever flirty tricks he was trying to do to you, it wouldn’t work. However, you kept dancing around that subject. You didn’t bother bringing that subject up and towards the end of the night, you both would start flirting a little bit more. Besides the fact that you were in a relationship, you also didn’t want to do anything unprofessional or inappropriate because at the end of the night, you were technically still working for Joe’s team and Joe. So, you tried your best not to lead him on. 

That was until you had come home one night and found Eli waiting for you in the living room. You arrived home half an hour past nine, and he already looked upset the moment you had stepped inside the flat. 

“Where have you been?” Eli’s tone of voice wasn’t what you liked at all. 

“I’m sorry, I had to finish some things. I texted you I was going to be late.” You explained.

“No, you didn’t.” Eli argued.

“Yes, I did. Didn’t you get my message?” You knitted your brows, making sure your voice was calm because you didn’t want to upset him even more.

You watched Eli pick up his phone from the coffee table and looked down at it and let out a deep breath.

“You know, maybe you should look for another job if they keep making you stay up this late.” 

You slid your coat off and hung it on the coat hanger and said, “It’s only 9:30. It’s not that late, Eli.”

You heard Eli scoff and shook his head. “So, you'd rather be with them than with me?”

You were confused. 

Where did that subject came from?

You didn’t understand why Eli was acting like this. Shouldn’t he be more supportive about your career? Didn’t you tell him that you needed this job because you needed the money? What else did you have to say or do to make sure he would stop this jealousy thing because it was making you so exhausted.

“I… I didn’t say that.” You murmured.

“Maybe you just don’t love me the way I love you. Just tell me, and it’s fine. I’ll happily go.” Eli shrugged, looking down at the floor.

You walked towards him, taking his hands in yours. The guilt inside of you brewed in your stomach but at the same time, you wanted to vomit. 

“I do love you. I told you that, remember? I love you.”

You felt nothing.

“Then, find another job… for me.” Eli looked into your eyes.

“I… I can’t. It’s hard to look for another job out there and this pays me well, while I’m able to learn the entertainment industry. You know how much I want a career in that industry.”

Eli’s eyes suddenly turned glum again. He slid his hands away from yours and exhaled sharply. 

“Why would you even want to be in that industry? So you could be naked and show everyone that?” 

You couldn’t understand what he was saying. You couldn't understand why he was acting like this.  

“You know that’s not true!” You argued.

You were exhausted from explaining yourself over and over again, and he just didn’t believe you. You felt like whatever you did was never enough for him. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you watched Eli grab his car keys.

“Wh…Where are you going?” Your voice stuttered, terrified of what he might do.

“Obviously, you don’t love me. I mean… no one loves me, so what’s the point, right?”

You grabbed his hand, trying to take the keys away, but he had his hand in a fist as he tried to slide his hand away from your grip.

“No, stop! Please.” You begged, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Don’t do this.”

“If you love me, you’d do this for me.” Eli replied, his eyes hardened as he stared at you.

You didn’t say a word because what he was asking of you was impossible. You already had lost yourself and your dignity. Your job at the moment was the only thing that you have that could maybe help you get back up again. After a few seconds of not replying, Eli pulled his wrist away from your grip, shaking his head.

“If you find me dead on the road then that’s on you.” He stated before walking out the front door. 

“Eli!” You cried out, running out the door, but it was too late as he had already gotten in the car and drove off.

Going back inside the flat, you laid on your bed that night, sobbing and questioning as to how you have gotten yourself into this situation. Questioning every decision you made as to why you were too weak to break this off. 

What if you break this thing off, and Eli would actually harm himself? It would be all your fault like he said. What if no one could love you after this? What about the happy memories that the two of you had at the beginning? What if you would regret it at the end for letting him go? You knew you were the only one that he had left in his life. You couldn’t do that to him either. You couldn’t easily just get out. 

You were trapped. 

Stuck. 

Frozen.

Around midnight, Eli had come back home. You weren’t asleep when he had entered the bedroom, but you had your eyes closed. How could you sleep after tonight? How were you able to have a peace of mind if he was out there? How would you know that he didn’t do anything to himself? It would be all your fault if something happened to him. 

You just couldn’t shut your mouth and agreed with what he was asking, couldn’t you? 

Feeling his arms wrapped around your torso, you felt him nuzzling your hair. You didn’t move. You couldn’t move. You knew he wasn’t going to apologize, so you didn’t try to hope for that. Eventually, he had fallen asleep, holding you that night. A tear rolled down your cheek as you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand to block out your sobs, so he wouldn’t wake up. 

At this point, you didn’t know who you were anymore. 

You just felt numb and lost, choking in your own tears. 

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn Fanfics #Joe Quinn Fanfics #Joseph Quinn rpf #Joe Quinn rpf #High Infidelity #blairrwaldorfs

[snowmist-hashira]

Hi! I just read the fics that you wrote and i love it!

If you don't mind, I'd like to request a fic where Muichiro and y/n are kinda in a forbidden love relationship. Like the reader's a civilian and her father was a demon slayer, and her family doesn't allow her to have a relationship with Muichiro, 'cause they know how dangerous being a slayer is and they don't want her to get hurt. Y/n and Muichiro often meet up secretly, but when they're around others all they do is stare at eachother longingly.

I'm m really in the mood for some angst rn hahaha.

Thank you and take your time, but feel free to ignore this request if you want!

[Chapter title: Condemned Love]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:[KNY Fanfiction] (One shots) Tokito Muichiro x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Muichiro x Reader Master list:♠ Information ♠ Word count: 1,920

Artist link: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/41742637/artworks

I am open to requests for Muichiro x Reader content, and I also enjoy engaging in roleplays. If you're interested in either, please feel free to check out my pinned post for more information. ~ ♠

Thank you for your kind words! I hope you find as much enjoyment in reading my works as I do in writing them. I hope that you are still in the angsty mood, and that was I able to convey it effectively in my writing.

[Whispered Secrets] (Condemned Love, Follow up) [Shattered Constraints] (Condemned Love, Part 2)

The demon slayer corps embodies a formidable and awe-inspiring vocation, where individuals willingly put their lives on the line, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice in their unwavering pursuit to eradicate the formidable foes known as demons.

Everyone who was familiar with the world of demon slayers understood the inherent peril that accompanied the profession, and this understanding was no exception for Y/n. She grew up with a deep admiration for the demon slayer profession due to her father's involvement.

She understood the risks and dangers associated with the job but was inspired by her father's dedication to protecting humanity from demons. As a child, she would eagerly listen to her father's stories of his encounters with demons, even though they were meant to scare her into sleeping.

Y/n's father instilled in her a sense of duty and the importance of defending innocent lives. She saw him as a hero, willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

One night as she lay in bed, wrapped snugly in her blanket, her anticipation for her father's return grew. It was a routine they had developed, where she would wait for him and listen to his tales of demon slaying. But that night, something felt different.

Minutes turned into hours, and still, there was no sign of her father. Y/n's excitement slowly turned to worry, a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. She waited, hoping that he would come through the door any moment with a smile on his face.

Suddenly the door swung open, a flicker of relief spread across Y/n's face, thinking it was her father returning home. However, the smile quickly faded as she realized it wasn't her father standing there but her mother, tears streaming down her face. Confusion and concern took hold of Y/n's young heart as she remained in her bed, trying to make sense of the situation.

Her mother, anguish evident in her eyes, hurried to Y/n's side, dropping to her knees and enveloping her in a tender embrace. Y/n's confusion deepened, the weight of her mother's sorrow seeping into her own being.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Y/n's voice trembled, her small frame seeking comfort in her mother's arms.

Her mother's voice quivered as she spoke, her words heavy with grief. "Oh, my dear Y/n, I'm so sorry. Your father... he won't be coming home."

“When will he come back?” Y/n's innocent question pierced her mother's heart like a dagger, a painful reminder that her husband would never return.

The weight of the reality settled heavily upon her, making it difficult to find the words to respond. Silently, she held her daughter, her tears continuing to flow, their sorrow mingling in the embrace.

Y/n's question lingered in the air, left unanswered, as the two of them grappled with the harsh truth.

In that moment, the truth crashed over Y/n like a tidal wave, shattering the remnants of her hope. Her small frame trembled with the weight of her realization; her innocence punctured by the harsh reality of loss. The room, once filled with warmth and love, now felt cold and desolate.

The days and weeks that followed, Y/n grappled with the truth, mourning the loss of her father and attempting to make sense of a world that had been irrevocably changed. She would find strength in her memories of him, the stories he had told, and the love he had shown.

Years had passed since the untimely passing of Y/n's father, but the memories of him remained etched deeply within her heart. The room that had once been shared by her parents now served as a sacred space, a place of remembrance and connection.

Every morning, Y/n would enter the room, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she approached the framed photograph of her father. Surrounding it were vibrant flowers, a colorful tribute to his spirit. She carefully lit an incense, clasping her hands together in a gesture of reverence.

"Good morning, Dad," Y/n whispered softly, her voice carrying a mixture of love and longing. The fragrant smoke from the incense filled the air, mingling with her heartfelt memories and love.

Y/n knelt on the tatami floor, lost in her act of paying respects to her father, she was startled by the sound of her mother's voice. The sliding door hastily opened, revealing her mother with an initial tone of anger on her face. Confusion washed over Y/n as she gazed up at her mother, unsure of what had caused her sudden reaction.

"Y/n!" her mother called out, her voice filled with both frustration and concern. But as her mother's eyes met Y/n's innocent gaze, her expression softened. The scowl on her face gave way to a gentler countenance, etched with concern for her daughter's well-being.

"Ah, I thought you were seeing that demon slayer again," her mother said, her voice tinged with worry, Y/n then feign innocence.

A smile formed on Y/n's lips as she closed her eyes, pretending not to understand her mother's implication. "Of course not," she replied, maintaining her innocent façade. "I was just here to pay my respects to papa."

Y/n's mother studied her for a moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and suspicion. She chose not to press further, wanting to believe her daughter's words. “I just want the best for you, dear.”

“I know, no worries.” As Y/n replied to her mother, her mother quietly slid the door closed, unaware that the other side opened simultaneously to mask the noise. Unbeknownst to her, another presence entered the room, its arrival marked by a pair of hands wrapping around Y/n's form.

Y/n's senses heightened as she felt the strong embrace, recognizing the familiar scent of mint and the sensation of broad shoulders pressing against her back. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized who knelt behind her, his black-to-mint strands of hair falling gracefully at the side.

"How sneaky," she murmured, a playful tone in her voice, acknowledging the lengths he went to in order to see her. The familiarity and tenderness in their interactions made her heart flutter, a mixture of joy and apprehension intertwining within her.

Muichiro responded with a soft smile. He leaned in closer, gently placing a kiss on Y/n's head. A quiet chuckle escaped Y/n's lips as she felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle touch of his lips tickling her.

Y/n turned slightly within the embrace to face Muichiro, her expression a mix of concern and affection. Her voice carried a touch of worry as she spoke, aware of the risks they faced.

"This is a dangerous place, you know," she whispered, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to discover them at any moment. "We'll get reprimanded if they see you here."

Muichiro's gentle smile remained unchanged, his eyes filled with unwavering determination and adoration. He understood the dangers they faced, the potential consequences of their clandestine meetings. But his love for Y/n outweighed any fear or reprimand that awaited him.

"I know," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I wanted to see you first. Being near you, even if just for a moment, gives me strength."

As Muichiro leaned over Y/n's chest, his ear pressed against her steady heartbeat, a sense of comfort washed over him. He felt the rhythm of her life pulsating beneath his touch, a reminder of the precious connection they shared.

With a tender touch, he wrapped his arms around her back, securing their embrace in an intimate gesture of love and protection. He held her close, cherishing the warmth and closeness they found in each other's arms.

"I have to pretend like I don't know you outside," Muichiro murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "Do you know how much I hold myself back from hugging you?"

Y/n's heart swelled at his words, understanding the depth of his struggle. She knew the sacrifices they had to make, the act they had to put on in public to keep their forbidden love hidden. It pained them both to deny their true connection to the outside world.

A soft smile graced Y/n's lips as she replied, her voice filled with affection and understanding. "I know, Mui. It's difficult for me too.”

Y/n understood the intentions behind her mother's concern. She knew that her mother wanted to shield her from the pain and sorrow that came with being involved with the dangerous world of demon slayers. It was a line of work that took loved ones away, leaving behind a trail of grief and heartache.

However, Y/n knew that she couldn't simply discard the love she felt for Muichiro. Their connection went beyond the risks and challenges they faced. A bond that defied the boundaries of their roles and the expectations placed upon them.

As the crow landed on the porch of the room, Y/n's heart sank, knowing all too well what it meant. It was a sign that Muichiro was being summoned for another mission, one that would inevitably separate them once again. The weight of the impending departure hung in the air, but Muichiro remained locked in their embrace, unwilling to let go.

Y/n's voice, filled with tenderness and a hint of sadness, broke the silence. "Mui," she whispered softly, her hand gently caressing his head, fingers intertwining with his hair.

She stared at Muichiro's vulnerable figure, her heart ached with a mixture of love and uncertainty. The reality of their situation weighed heavily upon her, reminding her of the pain and unpredictability that came with the life of a demon slayer.

A sense of sadness crept into her eyes as she contemplated the possibility that their paths might not cross again.

‘We’ll meet again later, right?’

He then sensed the doubts and the change of emotion in the air, he gently pulled himself away from their embrace, his eyes locked with Y/n's. His mint eyes, usually calm and serene, now held a resolute determination that pierced through her uncertainty.

With a soft yet unwavering voice, he spoke words that resonated deep within Y/n's heart. "I'll always come back to you."

In that simple sentence, Muichiro conveyed a promise—a promise that no matter the dangers, the obstacles, or the uncertainties that lay ahead, he would always find his way back to her.

Y/n's gaze met his, her eyes searching for the truth behind his words. And in that moment, she saw the sincerity and conviction reflected in his mint eyes. She could feel the depth of his love, the determination burning within him.

A flicker of hope ignited within her heart, dispelling the doubts that had clouded her mind.

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Y/n's lips as she nodded, "I trust you, Mui. I'll hold onto your words, knowing that you'll find your way back to me."

Muichiro then reached out and gently took her hand, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on the back of Y/n's hand, a gesture filled with loyalty, devotion, and promises.

The touch of his lips against her skin spoke of his unwavering commitment and the depth of his love for her.

Reluctantly, Muichiro turned to leave, but before he disappeared from view, he looked back at Y/n, his mint eyes shimmering with a mixture of longing and hope. His gaze held a silent promise, a reassurance that their paths would cross once again.

“Until we meet again.”

#muichiro x y/n #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #fanfiction #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #one shot #female reader #x reader #fluff #requested #angst #kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #demon slayer x reader #anime x y/n #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #kny muichiro #muichiro x you #kimetsu muichiro #kny x y/n #mist hashira #kimetsu no yaiba hashira #kny hashira

[rae-and-mezo]

Can you do a fic where MC gets transfigured into a rock and the boys have to explain to the nurse that it’s MC but the nurse thinks they’re just messing with her? Idk I saw this HL random world events where a student gets turned into a sheep and their friend is trying to convince the nurse that it’s a student 😭😭😭😭

We're Not Mad Professor!

Sebastian and Ominis x f!reader. Can be read as platonic!

A/n: This is my first fic...I'm not used to writing them! I hope this is okay, the prompt is so silly it makes me smile :)

"Did we just-"

"yep."

"And you turned her into-"

"Uh-huh."

The two boys share a look of disbelief as they look down at the ground. A puddle of robes and skirts, weighed down by something-or rather someone. You.

"I wasn't aiming at her."

Sebastian's face is filled with both horror and shock as he bends down and lifts up a rock. A plain, smooth, grey rock. It's still warm.

"Can she breathe? I mean, rocks don't breathe. Oh merlin, did I kill her?"

"relax." Ominis shakes his head in wonder. "Lydia The Small was transfigured into a lyre for three years and was perfectly fine. Still, we need to get her to Professor Weasley."

"Absolutely not!" Sebastian whirls around, and Ominis's wand showed him the outline of him holding the rock-or you as Ominis was slowly accepting- in his hands carefully. "No, I am on my last straw! If I get one more strike, I have to spend my lunch period in detention for the rest of the year!"

"Well then what do we do about it?" The question hangs between the two boys before Ominis carefully ventures. "Um, Garreth is good at Transfiguration. We can ask his help?"

"Are you out of your bloody mind? Honestly Ominis! Let's take her to nurse Blainey. At least she hasn't burned her brain away from too many exploding cauldrons."

Sebastian starts walking towards the castle and Ominis hurries after him, matching his pace. "Because the nurse knows better than Professor Weasley? Why don't I take her to Professor Weasley, I don't have any strikes."

"You are dreadful at Transfiguration."

"Thanks?" Ominis blinks, shaking off the insult. "They would never believe you turned her into a rock." A quick stumble on a tree root and Sebastian scrambles to catch you after accidentally letting go of the grey stone you had turned into.

"Merlin, Sebastian, put her in your pocket!" Sometimes, on days like these, Ominis wonders how Sebastian is still alive. Thank merlin for a head of common sense, or else Sebastian wouldn't have owed Ominis three different counts of his life.

"i don't want to put her in the dark!" Yep, Sebastian definitely wouldn't survive without Ominis.

"Rocks don't have eyes, you absolutely moronic oaf."

"Wait...she's blind right now?" A look of shock passes Sebastians face before he realizes. "Oh, no Ominis I didn't mean it like that-"

"Sebastian, just shut it okay? You're making an idiot of yourself."

The walk back to the castle is quiet. Sebastian could cry from how panicked he is...could you even survive being transfigured into something so...un sentient? Well, maybe. He is well aware that Ominis doesn't mind the matter. Sebastian bitterly reflects on how his best friend is more likely more worried about the weather than the rock- girl- in his hands.

Not true. Ominis is thinking about what you would sayvwhen they finally get you back to normal. Priceless.

Well, After he got you back to normal. However long that will take.

Sebastian Sallow is a strange boy, sure. But nobody in the school expected to see a panicked and tear stained Sebastian enter the great hall while cupping a rock. Not to mention he was followed by an eerily calm, slightly amused looking Ominis. And no MC.

"Nurse Blainey?" The nurse looked up at the sound of her name and her face fell when she realized who had said it. "One lunch break, Sallow. Please."

"We need your help, please." Ominis peeked around (or what he assumed was around) his friend. "Could you accompany us to the hospital wing?"

And so she did, grudgingly, but she did. "What is it, boys? I hope you know you interrupted my first patient free lunch since I started this job."

"I am very sorry Ma'am. I am afraid this matter is urgent." Ominis spoke for both he and Sebastian. "You see, our friend is hurt."

"How bad?" The womans eyebrows furrowed as she looked between the two.

"Well...she got hit by a spell. A transfiguration spell."

Nurse Blainey's face went from concerned to enraged in a matter of seconds. "No! This prank that you lot have been pulling is not funny. Three of your little friends have tried it already- with a sheep no less- and I am not falling for it again. If this friend really got hit by a transfiguration spell, you need to go to Professor Weasley."

"Madam!" Sebastian cried. "We can't! She would skin us alive!"

"I'm about to skin you alive! I'll make a deal. Bring me your friend, and I will do my best. If this turns out to be a prank, I will see to you being removed from the quidditch team, Mr. Sallow, and you from the Chess club, Mr. Gaunt." The nurses face softened at Sebastian's anguish. Ominis's poorly hidden amusement made her suspicious, but she knew that after that threat, both boys wouldn't dare to go through with a prank.

"Thank you, Ma'am. Truly! We owe you one." Ominis smiled.

"Yes you do. Now, take me to your friend."

"Actually, we have her here!" A barely stifled giggle left Ominis's mouth as his wand provided him with the outline of Sebastian presenting the rock.

"...You're joking."

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

Nurse Blainey screamed in frustration. "I would have thought you better than this! I meant it when I said I would have you both removed, I might even recommend suspension!"

Sebastian nearly dropped you in his scramble to save himself. "Nurse, we really are serious! I swear! I swear on...on MC's life!"

Ominis could have dropped his wand. "He's serious, nurse. I witnessed it. Secondhand, I mean. Well okay. I heard it. But really!"

In her frustration, the nurse tapped the rock- merlin, it couldn't really be you- with her wand and muttered an incantation.

You looked up at the boys, pure horror painted on your face. "What. The. Hell."

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #hphl #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow imagine

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

"ROSE I'M FREAKING OUT AAA I LOVE YOUR WRITING!! I am currently watching Prime so reading your Optimus fluff made my heart skip a beat! May I ask for more Optimus x reader (in a female perspective) fluff, and in a common situation like preparing for something humanly important (a ball perhaps)?? I don't got too many ideas but I would love to read anything coming from you! Please stay well 🌹❤️" - requested by @weaksall

Thank you so much!! This was such a cute idea! I found this amazing dress that I think is just gorgeous for this fic -> https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/706713366535507663/

I also didn't specify any hairstyles too because not everyone has long hair that they can style <3 I hope this is satisfactory!! 💕

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Word count: 1618

Today is a rather important day for you. Your work is hosting a gala ball to raise money for charity, and you are required to attend. You had never been to a ball and the thought of picking out grand outfits to wear and accessories has always excited you. Miko, of course, wanted to help you go shopping at the small selection of boutiques that Jasper has to offer. She may be into the alternative type of fashion, but the young girl has a passion for all types.

“Oh! What about this one, (Y/n)?” Miko drags you by the arm towards yet another boutique. You almost stumble as the stacks of boxes you’re holding pretty much blind your vision.

“Miko!” You laugh, “I think I have enough dresses to last me the rest of my life.”

“Oh, come on! You never know when you need…” She pauses to count the boxes in your hand, “Four, five…. eight outfits!”

You roll your eyes as you let her drag you into the boutique. Looking around, you don’t see anything that catches your eye. However, Miko is practically running around the joint pointing at different dresses and sending your mind for a spin.

“Miko, let’s just go.” It was your turn to drag her through the shop, as much as you love her, if you spent another hour dress shopping with her you were sure you would lose whatever brain cells you had left.

Before you could drag a sad Miko out the door, you spotted a gorgeous navy-blue ball gown that sparkled like the night sky. It had a heart shaped neckline with lace trimmings around the edges that tapered off to create a small off the shoulder sleeves. And by the all spark, you had to have it.

Miko followed your eyes towards the gown, and she grinned, “Do you want to try it out?”

-

It had been a week since Miko accompanied you to the boutiques and today was the gala ball. You had set up a small makeup station in the human area of the base, Miko of course going through it all trying to find the best shades of eyeshadows and lipsticks to use and making a mess.

“Alright, (Y/n),” Miko held out two sticks of lipsticks, “Purple or blue? Oh! What about GLITTER? OR- “

You wished you could rub your eyes in frustration, but you didn’t want to ruin your foundation, “Miko, sweetheart, how about a nice neutral shade? It’s a gala not a drag show.”

Miko dramatically tosses the lipsticks back into the makeup bag, “Yeah but you would look so cool!”

As you were applying your contour, blush and the colours of the eyeshadows that Miko picked out for you (they were colours you liked thank goodness), Optimus Prime had walked over towards the human area, curious about the commotion.

“(Y/n),” He looks around at all the different things that are scattered around on the floor, “May I ask what this is all for?”

You froze. You had not expected the boss bot himself to ask about makeup, Arcee maybe, but not Optimus. It doesn’t help the fact that you have been in love with Optimus since you first met him, but the way his eyes fill with curiosity as he asks the question warms your heart a little bit. You exhaled and placed the makeup brush you held in your hand down.

“Today is a really important event for my job, they’re hosting a huge charity gala to raise money to help sick kids.” You explained as best as you could to the bot, but you could read his face and tell that he was still a little bit confused.

“A… gala?” He raises an optic ridge.

“Yeah, it’s like a really fancy party.” You smiled, “You get to wear nice clothes, socialise with other people and- “

“And there’s LOTS of fancy food!” Miko butted in, “I’m talkin’ seafood, barbeques and sooooo many desserts…”

Optimus glances towards the young girl, then back to you.

“So, this gala,” He begins, “It is a culturally significant gathering for humans?”

You nod your head, picking up the makeup brush again, “Yeah, it’s a way for humans to come together for a cause, or just to have fun and make friends!”

Optimus hums and that makes you seem to think that he is satisfied with your answer. He watches as you delicately swivel the brush over your eyelids, admiring the movement of your hands. Your focus may be on the mirror, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“You mentioned nice clothes,” Optimus says, “Are you planning to wear something… ‘fancy’?”

“You don’t get to see that yet!” Miko perks up, she then grabs two lipsticks and holds them out to Optimus. “But you can help (Y/n) pick a lipstick colour, she doesn’t like MY choices."

You can feel your face heat up as you watch Optimus’s optics flicker between the two lipsticks with a raised optical ridge. You really do hope that Miko knows what she is doing.

-

It was noon, you and Miko had just finished the last touches and adjustments to your gown. You had brought a large mirror to the base so you can fully see yourself in the reflection, safe to say that you looked like a literal princess. Miko jumps up and down as she admires her work.

“(Y/n)!! You look so beautiful!” Miko squeals as she pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you, Miko.” You laugh at her energy, hugging her back. One would think that you were getting married by the way she reacts to you.

“I can’t wait to see what Optimus thinks of you.” She grins. You pull her out of the hug and give her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Your heart is racing fast, “Why would Optimus care about how I look?”

Miko gives you a dead-panned stare, dropping her arms to the side, “Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way he looks at you, (Y/n)?”

Of course you have, but you’ve always thought that those were a different kind of stare, not because he… likes you.

“No," You lied, staring at yourself in the mirror again, “Even if he did, I doubt that he would have time for me, he is the leader of the Autobots… he has enough on his plate as it is.”

Miko rolls her eyes and leans against you, “Don’t sell yourself short, he is gonna faint when he sees you.”

She then takes your hand, dragging you out of the room, “Come on, it’s nearly time to leave anyway.”

You let her drag you out, what Miko said is now engraved into your brain and is now on a constant replay. Have you seen the way he looks at you?

Whilst you were distracted by the thoughts in your head, Miko had stopped you just before the door to the main area of the base, “Wait here, I’m gonna go and make sure that everyone is ready.”

“Ready for what?” You tried to question her, but she shushed you as she ran off. You’re awkwardly standing there now, occasionally fluffing your gown. You haven’t the slightest clue on what she is up to.

A few moments later, Miko calls out, “Ok (Y/n), come out now!”

You take a deep breath as you walk out, holding you gown to keep it from dragging on the floor. Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest.

You walk out to a crowd consisting off all of team prime, some are stunned to silence, and some are cooing and gushing about how beautiful you look. You decided to give yourself a boost of confidence and give them a twirl, the base of the gown flaring out as you do so.

“Wow, you clean up real good, kid.” Wheeljack nods with folded arms. Bumblebee and Bulkhead (with Miko perched on his shoulder) are practically swooning, Arcee is admiring your hair and makeup, Smokescreen is telling you how amazing you look, and Ratchet is scoffing about how silly this all is, but secretly he thinks that you look nice. Jack and Raf are also enamoured.

Optimus, however, is simply stunned to silence. His dermas slightly agape and a blue hue ever so slightly creeps onto his face. He loves the way the gown flows and the small intricate details on your torso, and he thinks the colour of the dress suits you perfectly. The lipstick he picked out for you was a classic red lip with a slight tinge of purple. And he now understands why humans were obsessed with the stuff; he could not stop staring.

You shyly thanked everyone for the compliments and noticed that Optimus had stepped closer to you and leaned down. You stiffen up a little bit as he held out a servo towards you, he touches the dress very gently.

“You look absolutely exquisite, (Y/n).” Optimus says, optics now staring into your eyes. Your cheeks flush at his words. You then gently took the digit that was toying with your gown and gave it a hug.

“Thank you, Optimus.” You smiled, you were sure that he could feel your heartbeat against his servo, “Do you think the lip colour ties it all together?”

His face flushed as you winked at him and then he smiled, knowing that he was the one that picked it out, “Indeed.”

Off to the side out of view while you and Optimus are sharing a sweet moment, Miko is holding out her hand so that a defeated Bulkhead can hand her an imaginary dollar bill, “Told ya he had the hots for her.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x human reader #x reader #fluff

[thorxthunder]

Cardinal Copia SFW Alphabet <3

Hi hi! I’m Demeter! I’m primarily active in the Marvel community but I’ve shifted myself over to ghost! I still write for both and my inbox is always open for suggestions!! So PLEASE SEND ME SOME GHOST REQUEST!! I WRITE FOR EVERYONE!! Anyways, here we go!

A = Affection:

Cardinal Copia is naturally affectionate, often expressing his care through warm embraces and gentle touches. He shows affection by surprising loved ones with thoughtful gestures, such as leaving small gifts or writing heartfelt notes. He loves surprising you with things like your favorite treat or your own personal acoustic concert of new/old songs.

B = Best friend:

As a best friend, Cardinal Copia is loyal and supportive. The friendship with him would likely start through a shared interest or a chance encounter. I like to imagine that you probably met him as a sister of sin and soon became his secretary. I know it’s cliché but I eat that shit up EVERY TIME!! I ,also, like to imagine that you are a vet/ pet care worker and he brings a rat when he gets sick. He, then, starts to make excuses to come see you because you don’t judge him for his pet choice. He would be the type of friend who listens attentively, offers advice, and is always there to lend a helping hand.

C = Cuddles:

Cardinal Copia enjoys cuddling, finding comfort in physical closeness. His cuddles are warm and reassuring, often accompanied by soft whispers or soothing strokes. He cherishes the intimate moments shared with his partner. He loves any position as long as he’s basically squeezed into you. You’re his true and only love and he’s not gonna lose it.

D = Domestic:

While Copia has a busy life, he appreciates the idea of settling down. He might not be the most skilled at cooking and cleaning, but he's willing to learn and contribute. His enthusiasm in creating a cozy and welcoming home would make up for any domestic shortcomings. I love to think he’s shit at cooking. Eggs? Burnt. Toast? Burnt? Cereal? Somehow, also burnt. But those aren’t things he really ate since he grew up in Italian culture. But, he can make killer Italian food and pastry. (Oh God, am I gonna have to write a domestic Copia fic?)

E = Ending:

If Copia had to break up with his partner, he would approach it with honesty and compassion. He would ensure that the conversation takes place in a private and comfortable setting. He would make sure that you understood why it was happening But God, it would it break his heart to do it. He would probably break up with you because he felt like he wasn’t giving you enough time on tour. Or that when he became papa, he’s so involved in paperwork that he doesn’t have enough time with you. He wants to fulfill his duty as leader but, he wants to keep you as happy as possible.

F = Fiancé(e):

Copia is open to commitment and values the bond of marriage. However, he believes in taking the time to build a strong foundation before rushing into such a significant step. Since marriage really wouldn’t be a option while he’s a papa, he would probably not think about this. He would be happy just knowing you were his forever. If you were serious for a while after he became papa, he would probably make you prime mover. But he treat you with a lot more respect than just a sexual partner.

G = Gentle:

Cardinal Copia is naturally gentle, both physically and emotionally. He handles delicate situations with care and approaches relationships with a soft touch. He takes great pride in treating others with kindness and tenderness. That’s one of the reasons why Nihil didn’t like that thought of him being Papa. As Cardinal, he was kind. He never raised his voice and would always be compassionate. He would always give a hand to anyone who needed it. Nihil didn’t believe that Copia would be capable of being a strong and serious leader.

H = Hugs:

Copia enjoys hugs and believes in its power to convey warmth and affection. He is generous with his hugs, freely giving them to express comfort, support, and love. He appreciates the comforting embrace of others as well. But his hugs… are exquisite. His hugs come from gentle arms but it tell you that they are with you. I can imagine after a long day of hard work. Both of you are having a bad day so you just sit and the couch and cuddle forever. I imagine he wears a very strong woodsy cologne.

I = I love you:

here’s the thing, we all know our mans is clumsy. I would think that Copia would try to takes his time before saying the L-word. He would want to be certain of his feelings and ensure that the connection is deep and meaningful. Despite that, he probably would say it in the most random times. You could be having a bad day and crying and he would come over and comfort you and tell you that he loves you. Or he accidentally bumped into you and tell you then. It’s probably not in the most fairytale way but it’s genuine.

J = Jealousy:

Copia prone to intense jealousy…. Especially if it deals with his brothers. He trusts you and believes in open communication to address any concerns. He’ll probably seek reassurance but he’ll never become possessive or controlling. Now, if you’re at a ritual and someone comes up and starts flirting with you, you better believe that he is on you. Holding you as tight as you can the entire night. Everyone in the ministry knows not to mess with you but once you get out and about, there’s no telling what could happen. And don’t even get me started about how he acts with his brothers and you. One time, before you were together, he saw you and Primo talking and laughing in the garden. He thought that you were flirting with each other so he ran to his room to cry for three solid days. When he joked about this later on, you told him that you actually remember that. You were actually in the garden talking about what flowers were Copia’s favorite and Primo was making fun of you (jokingly) for being in love with his brother.

K = Kisses:

His kisses are passionate and tender. He enjoys exploring different areas of intimacy and finds pleasure in sharing gentle kisses on the lips, as well as on the forehead, cheek, and hands. He appreciates both giving and receiving kisses on the neck, finding it particularly intimate. His first kiss with you one of two things: After a rather successful ritual and he ran backstage and kissed you. He was so caught up in emotions that he kinda forgot it was his first kiss but everything went perfect. Or, he could’ve been trying to confess his feelings. I imagine him stuttering and getting all jittery trying to explain how he feels and you cut him off by kissing him to let him know you feel the same.

L = Little ones:

Cardinal Copia is kind and nurturing around children. He’s a bit awkward at first, especially with babies, but after seeing how you interact with them, his tension would start to melt away and he relaxed around them. As they get older, Copia enjoys their innocent enthusiasm and loves to entertain them with his rats or his musical skills. He somehow has a natural ability to connect with kids, providing them a sense of security and understanding.

M = Morning:

Mornings with Cardinal Copia are often filled with laughter and warmth. He enjoys cozy breakfasts together, sharing light-hearted conversations and affectionate gestures. He might surprise his partner with a fresh cup of coffee or breakfast in bed. Especially if he makes that breakfast. It will consist of some thing that his brothers taught him when he was younger.

N = Night:

Nights with Copia are a time for intimacy and deep connection. He enjoys cuddling in bed, exchanging whispers and soft kisses. He cherishes the quiet moments shared, where he can truly be present with his partner. At night, he likes to read some sort of book. His makeup is off, his hair messy, glasses on. Hell, he’s probably playing something like Candy Crush or something.

O = Open:

Copia starts revealing things about himself gradually, allowing trust and familiarity to develop. Being friends for a long time meant that you two were already very comfortable telling each other things. When you start dating, he was slow to tell you even more secrets, until he knew you were the one. He believes in the importance of maintaining a balance between sharing personal details and respecting his own boundaries.

P = Patience:

Copia possesses a patient demeanor. He doesn't get easily angered and prefers to approach conflicts or frustrations with calmness and understanding. He believes in working through challenges together, fostering growth and harmony within the relationship. Now if you guys got angry with each other, he would feel like it was all his fault and he would try to make it up to you only for you to apologize too and remind him that it wasn’t all his fault. Overall, you very rarely fight, and he intends to keep it that way.

Q = Quizzes:

Copia has a remarkable memory and pays attention to the details. He remembers significant moments and appreciates the little things that his partner mentions in passing. His ability to recall and cherish these details adds a personal touch to their relationship. He would pretend not to remember things about you and ask you. It never annoyed you though. He loved hearing you talk about yourself and all of the things you can do. He’s absolutely smitten by you. Those conversations would reminded of how special you are.

R = Remember:

Copia's favorite moment in the relationship would be the first time his partner truly understood and embraced his dual nature, both the light and the darkness within him. It symbolizes acceptance and genuine connection, bringing immense joy and satisfaction. It would probably be after a particularly long tour. He just needed time to sit and think. You were right there beside him and constantly reassured him that he did a great job. He also really enjoys when you confessed to each other. Remember, you’re his first love. This is not something he’s ever experienced before. Thinking about all of those things you said about him and why you love him truly makes him smile every time he thinks about it.

S = Security:

Copia is protective of you and takes your safety seriously. He would do everything in his power to shield you from harm, whether it's physical or emotional. He would even ask Sister Imperator to teach you defensive and offensive spell you can so you can never be hurt. He appreciates a sense of security in his own life and you can offer him support and protection when needed.

T = Try:

Copia puts a great deal of effort into creating memorable experiences for you. He plans thoughtfully curated dates, celebrates anniversaries with heartfelt gestures, and surprises them with meaningful gifts. He believes in continuously nurturing the relationship and showing love through everyday tasks and acts of kindness. He always wants you to know how much he loves you. He would go to the ends of the earth for you and wants you to know it.

U = Ugly:

One of Copia's bad habits would be his jealousy. Like I said before, he’s very possessive and sometimes this causes the two of you to fight from time to time. He wants you to be with him, but you need him to respect your boundaries. Eventually, the two of you would make up and find a happy middle where you both were happy.

V = Vanity:

On the outside, it seems that Copia takes pride in his appearance and pays attention to his looks. He does believes in presenting himself well and maintains a certain level of vanity. However, he very self conscious in his looks.

For his partner, he values substance over superficiality and appreciates genuine connections beyond mere physical attraction. He’s not concerned about your looks at all and you amaze him even in your pajamas or in your clergy wear. You’re beautiful because of who you are. But, it’s an absolute bonus that he finds you smoking hot.

W = Whole:

Copia feels complete and fulfilled when he's in a loving relationship. He thrives on the emotional bond and shared experiences with you. While he's an individual with his own identity, he believes that love enhances and enriches his life. Once he gets with you, however, he is truly terrified of losing you. He knows that he would never be whole again if he lost you. You are his world and he couldn’t even bear the thought of a life without you.

X = Xtra:

Do I think that he’s nervous and clumsy? Yes, but he hides it very well. When he first met you, he treated you with such elegant and poise. But on the inside he was a mess. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and that he could fall dead on the floor any minute.

I also feel like if he kept rats, he would love them but would be terrified of seeing one out and about. Just imagine that the cage breaks and all of a sudden there’s a rat running around the ministry. Someone will scream “there is a rat “and immediately he will turn his head and scream. He would totally forget that he actually has pet rats. Y’all know that one audio on TikTok that goes “It’s Shredder” and he goes “WHERE”… it’d be like that

Y = Yuck:

Copia dislikes dishonesty and lack of integrity in both himself and others. He values transparency and expects his partner to be honest and genuine. He also dislikes arrogance and selfishness, as these traits go against his core values.

Z = Zzz:

God, let’s not talk about his schedule. Copia’s sleep habits are hella irregular due to his busy schedule. However, when he does find the time to rest, he enjoys sleeping in a comfortable and cozy environment. That 100% means his bed, cuddled next to you or your guys matching plague doctor plushies. When he has the chance, he will always nap with you. He love those naps when it rains. The bad weather makes him want to stay in and relax with you. He loves feeling your body cuddled up against yours and when it rains, he brings you up to your bedroom and cuddles you until you both fall asleep.

#cardinal copia #my wriring #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #ghost bc #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost band fic #this is my first ghost post so go easy on me #sfw alphabet

[atlabeth]

a lady's guide to surviving the ton - benedict bridgerton

summary: you've prepared an endless list of rules and notes for the season to ensure a successful debut. benedict may be in need of some tips for a courtship of his own.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first bridgerton fic!! like the amount of support has been insane and ily so much <3<3 bridgerton has just been really good for inspo lately so yk i had to write abt good ol benny boy. its just a short lil fluffy piece abt fun idiot courting methods lol but i hope you enjoy

wc: 1.4k

warning(s): none i think. just pure fluff

“Are you ever going to dance at one of these balls, or is writing your only intention?” 

You glanced up from your journal and smiled, perhaps the only man in the ton capable of causing the reaction. “You may have years of experience from accompanying your siblings, but I have  just debuted with my only experience being my older sister’s season. I am merely documenting everything I can so I shall be able to perform at my best during the season.” 

Benedict chuckled. “Documenting everything? Making it through the season is quite simple — a couple charming smiles, a few courtesy dances, and you will have the men falling at your feet. Or, if you prefer, you can go the route of my brother — Anthony despises the season, and yet he still manages to have every lady at his beck and call. I truly do not understand how he does it.” 

“Perhaps it is because of his attitude that he is so desirable to them,” you pointed out. “There is nothing a man loves more than a seemingly unattainable woman, but I’ve found the ladies of the ton to be quite similar in regards to untouchable men. It is the reason why, apart from riches and status, dukes and marquesses are so appealing to the masses.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have certainly done your research on the ton, my lady. Maybe your wallflower strategy is indeed working out for you.” 

“I try,” you said, bolstered by his praise. “Though, of course, the reason for his desirability could be much more simple.” 

“And that is?” 

You shrugged and smiled at him. “Anthony is devastatingly attractive. I find that works wonders on a lady.” 

“Your deduction forces me to question the legitimacy of your work,” Benedict said with a slight frown. “Though I think we have an opportunity to prove it now.” 

“Oh?” 

Benedict offered a smile of his own along with his hand. “I consider myself quite attractive. Should it work wonders on you, your research shall be fully accepted.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you as you gave him a sideways smile. “That is awfully confident of you, Mister Bridgerton.”

“That is simply because I believe I am worthy of it, Miss Beauvale,” he responded in kind. “I would be grateful if you would indulge me in a dance.” 

“Well,” you said with mock haughtiness as you accepted his hand, placing your journal on a table to the side, “how could I ever refuse?” 

You each took your positions on the floor as you joined in seamlessly with the other dancers, one of Benedict’s hands on the small of your back and the other intertwined with your own hand as you set the other on his shoulder.

Only once you felt the movements register in your muscles, the waltz that had been ingrained in your mind after hours upon hours of dance lessons, did you begin to talk, trusting in your ability to continue without stumbling. 

“The more that I think about it, the more I realize I have in fact never seen you on the dance floor with a woman other than your sisters,” you said. “Not in the balls we have had thus far nor the entirety of my sister’s season. However have you managed it?”

“It is the often overlooked privilege of the second son,” Benedict responded. “My siblings are quite skilled at taking over the spotlight, and thus I am rewarded the courtesy of remaining in the shadows and indulging in my own wants. It also helps that most ladies go after a title, and Anthony has far more to offer there than I.” 

“Ah,” you nodded. “You are quite fortunate, Mister Bridgerton. No matter how hard I try to blend in with the walls, a suitor always manages to find me. It becomes exhausting after a time.” 

“Then I suppose it is quite fortunate now that you have a suitor you can bear on your arm,” Benedict said playfully. 

“Is that what you are?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. “A suitor?” 

“I thought it was quite obvious with my asking you to dance,” he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Though I must admit, I am not very knowledgeable on all a suitor must do. If you have spent so much time watching, you ought to have some advice you can share.” 

You looked at him with thinly veiled amusement. “Am I providing the resources for my own courtship?” 

Benedict shrugged with mock ambivalence. “That is a secret, my lady, but it would mean a great deal if you could share some of your notes with me.” 

You hummed as you pretended to think long and hard. “Many of my tips are for the ladies of the ton, but I suppose that I have some advice that can apply to gentlemen.”

He grinned. “Fantastic. Do tell.” 

“Well,” you started, “it is most important to be kind, above all else. A lady will not entertain anyone who only deigns to insult her. Compliment not just her appearance, but her skills and mind as well — it can be upsetting to be praised only for the things one cannot control.” 

“So if I were to, say, compliment a lady on how well the blues of her dress highlight her eyes, I should also commend her on how brilliantly articulated she is,” Benedict said with a coy smile, his eyes leaving your own for a moment to linger on the cerulean fabric of your outfit.

“Yes,” you responded with a nod, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, “though it is also polite to let her know when you are complimenting her. Perhaps when you are dancing with the aforementioned lady in blue.”

“I believe she understands what I am trying to say,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Please, continue.” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly but obliged nonetheless. “If a gentleman is interested in a lady, it is imperative that he asks her for a dance — a lady is unable to ask for a dance herself, but she is, on the other hand, barred from refusing an offer. It is the easiest way to show interest.” 

Benedict hummed as he led you through a spin. “I’ve already asked a lovely lady to dance, so I believe you can move to your next step.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, the bottom of your skirt twirling with your movements before you took up your regular position again. “Apart from asking for dances, a gentleman must also be an active caller at his lady’s estate if he wishes to woo her. I’ve found offers of gifts and his company to be the most effective, especially if those gifts involve flowers.” 

“Flowers,” he muttered to himself before he met your eyes again. “Completely off topic, but it is necessary all the same — what is your favorite type of flower?” 

You grinned, now fully unable to hide your joy at his unconventional courting. “Purple hydrangeas.”

“Very lovely,” he nodded. “This all does seem to be coming together quite nicely. I feel as if you know the way to a lady’s heart better than I do.” 

You chuckled. “That is simply not true. I am skilled at listening and watching from the sidelines — you are perfectly capable of gaining a lady’s affections.” 

“You say it with such confidence,” Benedict said, the twinkle in his eye returning. “Could it be that I have already gained the affections of a certain lady?” 

“Perhaps,” you said, barely managing to bite back your smile. “But perhaps you have held the affections of the lady in question well before this season.” 

“Certainly a twist of events,” he said with mock austerity. “Though I suppose the confession means I was correct all along. A pretty face truly is all it takes for a lady to fall.” 

You felt your cheeks flush yet again and Benedict smiled, though his expression faltered for a moment. “That is— if you are the lady in question.” 

“Of course I am, Benedict,” you giggled. “I thought it was quite obvious with my blatant flirting.” 

His sheepish smile told you all you needed to know as the dance came to an end, the two of you separating as you bowed to each other. “I take it this means I am officially courting you, Miss Beauvale?” 

“I would love nothing more, Mister Bridgerton,” you responded proudly. 

Benedict beamed at you as he offered his arm to you, and you began to walk off to the side of the dance floor together after you took it. “Perfect — with your advice and my charm, I am sure we can muddle through this courtship together.” 

"Certainly," you nodded with a smile of your own. “As long as we are together.” 

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator 

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fluff #sadie writes

[beyondtheglowingstars]

Ndbasjbhdasjhdv these two have been RATTLING my brain for the longest time (is there actually a time when they're not?) so I had no option but to give in and write a fic. Post ST Link chooses to remain an engineer, I'm pretty sure you'll notice a few specific headcanons of mine shining through on this fic etc, etc. I hope you like it regardless.

Gift

Pairing: Zelda x Link (platonic) Word count: 3.1k WARNING(S): None :) General info: Link had picked up on a small detail during their travels. What he had noticed, it bothered him; but he wanted to fix things and help Zelda experience what she wasn't given the chance to. Meanwhile, she feels in great debt with him and while she isn't able to fully repay him, she does the best she can in that moment even if it's something small.

His mind had been thinking about it for a while now, back to the way she had reacted when she first got on the Spirit Train and experienced what was beyond the immediate proximity of Hyrule Castle.

“It’s so pretty and peaceful out here! I’d love to run through these fields if I ever get my body back.”

And every other comment whenever they traveled to a different area was filled with pure, child-like wonder and excitement; they only helped confirm his suspicions of the princess never having set foot past Castle Town. Had she really been walled up in the castle almost her entire life?

Maybe he was exaggerating things a little. After all, she mentioned that she had seen snow before. Perhaps it was more accurate to think that Zelda had not stepped foot outside of the castle since her parents, the former king and queen, were still alive and in good health. She must have been around eight to ten years of age back then. Which was a very, very long time ago.

He found it ironic, how everyone else essentially had more freedom than the princess of New Hyrule herself. But he wasn’t judging or making fun of the situation, goodness, he could never think of it that way. But it did put into a more clear perspective just how much influence Cole had back then, however. And the more he thought about it, the more upset he felt.

The way her face lit up when she saw snow again since who knows how many years ago, how she had laughed with joy when she saw the dolphins keeping up with the train then leapt out of the water when the whistle was blown, how her eyes fixated with interest on the many flowers and animals in the forest… At this point he realized that he may have, unconsciously, created a mental album where he recorded Zelda’s every reaction to all those new experiences. His anger within did not subside, but there was no use in getting upset about past injustices, was there?

She had gone with him everywhere during the adventure and explored almost every corner of New Hyrule because of it, but there must be a big difference between having seen the world as a ghost compared to a living person. He was on his way to Hyrule Castle to complete a delivery after all, maybe he could try to talk to the princess once he got there and arrange plans for taking her across the vast land of the country; maybe catch up with her too, it had been a month since the adventure concluded and they had seen each other. But as hopeful as he was about getting to see Zelda again, he knew that she had to be incredibly busy with royal duties and wouldn’t have time for something so insignificant. Perhaps some other day.

Link sighed as he set his gaze on what was ahead, Hyrule Castle was quickly coming into view. The train was set to a slower speed, the engineer blew the whistle as he got closer to his destination, and even though he was nearly there, his mind couldn’t stop making him anxious and more wistful for getting to see the princess. Adjusting the gearbox, he brought the train to a slow and calculated stop at the station.

Once he stepped off from the train, he was greeted by a castle town resident. A large man that seemed to be accompanied by another male.

“Link! Thank you so much.” Grinning, the man stretched his hand out for the hero to take, which he did.

Only to later feel a large hand pat his back with enough strength that almost knocked him off-balance. The handshake concluded, Link was about to speak before being beat to it.

“I’m guessing it will be as much as last time, right?” The blond nodded his head in affirmation.

“Here you go!” A small pouch filled with rupees was handed over to the young engineer.

“Don’t worry about unloading, I’ve got a friend to help me with that.” The statement revealing the reason for the other male being there.

And for one, Link was glad about not having to unload the cart from the heavy shipment. The two men almost effortlessly picked up the big boxes and expressed their gratitude towards the hero once again before leaving. He was left alone to his thoughts after that.

His hand absentmindedly clenched around the knot keeping the rupee bag sealed, his body gently rocked back and forth on his heels; maybe he should give a shot at trying to see Zelda again after all, and if it turned out that her hands were too full for something like that, he could always try again later, no problem. Hopefully he wouldn’t be a bother.

The blond put the newly acquired rupees into his wallet and marched towards the castle garden. Various people around the town waved and addressed words of admiration at him, which in all honesty, all the attention overwhelmed him and lowered the small amount of confidence he struggled to gather just to get to the front of the castle. But when he actually got there, one could swear the last remaining fragment of confidence he still had could be heard shattering into a million pieces.

He found himself in a familiar scenario, approaching the two guards at the front of the castle, with one of them eyeing him suspiciously. Even if he had saved the world, it seems like some guards would remain the same as they’ve always been. Link looked back at the guard and swallowed thickly, rehearsing in his mind again what he was about to say to the watchmen as he opened his mouth to speak.

“LINK!!” But this time he would be interrupted by the person he least expected to see.

Both the young engineer and the guards turned to the source of the sound. Clear as day, there was Princess Zelda running to the castle entrance, heading to their direction as she waved to her friend. Link’s face immediately brightened, and he instantly felt relief from all the things he’d been worried about. Zelda practically squeezed in between the two guards, she ran at Link with outstretched arms implying an incoming hug, the hero mirrored her gesture in expectance of a soothing embrace.

What he was not counting on, was for Zelda to squeeze him in a bone-crushing hug. He gasped in surprise, and then it became painfully apparent that he should have taken in a big gulp of air before engaging with the princess, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to properly breathe until the girl chose to let him go.

“LINK! Why didn’t you come visit earlier?!” As if he hadn’t already experienced enough emotions the last few seconds, he also felt himself being lifted off the ground a few centimeters, his cheeks warmed up with a faint red hue.

To make matters worse, he could see one of the guards trying his best to not laugh out loud, while the other one ignored the basic concept of giving the teens a small moment of much needed privacy.

“Pardon my interruption, but Your Highness, you should not venture outside the castle unannounced.” The man in green uniform stated, Link swore that the watchman was looking down at him with a menacing stare.

Zelda put the boy back on his feet after hearing the voice. Not that Link didn’t appreciate the gesture or how the princess was beaming with excitement to see him, but he was definitely grateful to be able to breathe normally again.

“You’re right. Let’s go, Link!” Zelda politely nodded at the guard, taking the engineer’s hand in hers as she replied and practically dragged Link into the castle.

The boy nearly tripped and fell from the unexpected dash. Zelda’s smile had not let up even now as she ran through the corridors holding Link’s hand, the guard in charge of watching the stairs leading to the throne room had to step away or else he risked being ran over by an enthusiastic princess. The hero had no clue where the girl got this much energy from and neither did he know how she was able to run so fast with heels on, all he knew was the way to Zelda’s chambers was a blur and suddenly found himself sitting down on furniture that was probably more expensive than anything he’s ever owned. The monarch sat beside him, the icy blue of her eyes trained on his face.

“Really, what took you so long to come back, Link?” Her arms crossed in front of her chest, face showed a minor pout.

“I’m sorry, Zelda. I figured you were busy so I didn’t want to bother you.” The engineer took his conductor cap in his hands and began fidgeting with it.

Zelda’s eyes widened with a gasp.

“Link, don’t ever say that again!” She lightly squeezed Link’s shoulders, the gesture making the boy become slightly tense, but he loosened up again just as quickly.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you! Had it not been for the train’s whistle and I wouldn’t have known you were here. You can come whenever you want, you know?”

“If you say so…” Link refused to meet her gaze for the most part, opting to direct his attention to his cap instead, which he was still playing with.

Zelda flashed him a sympathetic smile, one which made the hero audibly let go of a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and copied her smile. The princess drew back her arms to rest on her lap, the engineer took this moment to adjust the cap back onto his head.

“Yes, really! I mean it. And I haven’t been too busy as of recent, actually. So don’t think you interfered or anything like that.”

Link internally sighed in relief, instantly feeling lighter after knowing that he wasn’t inconveniencing the princess. The boy cleared his throat.

“I’m glad to hear, Zelda.” A shy smile popped on his face.

“Umm, since you’re saying that you haven’t been too busy, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a trip with me across New Hyrule. I figured you didn’t get to enjoy much from the places we went to since we were tight on time and you were, well, a ghost back then.”

The engineer twiddled with his fingers, searching through his brain for the some of the things he’d been practicing in his mind to say in this moment.

“Of course, it doesn’t have to be to be today! You probably have something to do later on, so just tell me when you’re able to go, if you’d like. I can take you anywhere you wish, just tell me where and I’ll get us there.” A half-nervous smile on his face as he hoped that Zelda would take his offer.

The princess stared into Link’s eyes, her expression unreadable to him, and he was almost sure that she was about to reject him and never consider the offer. Until she squealed and he felt himself being squeezed in a hug again. It took him a few seconds to fully process what had happened, but when he reoriented himself he wrapped his arms around Zelda in return. At least this time he didn’t feel like his ribs or any other bone would fracture.

“I’d love to go! Thank you so much!” She separated much sooner than before, lips curved in a grin.

Link thinks it’s the happiest he’s ever seen her until now, and he couldn’t help giggling at her antics.

“Oh, I never did thank you properly for everything you’ve done for me. Yet here you are, giving even more without asking for anything in exchange.” Zelda’s expression became pensive.

“What do you mean? You were always looking out for me during the adventure and saved my butt more than once. Without you, I would have died on the first day! I have nothing to ask of you. I can’t.”

The princess averted her eyes, silently giggling to herself as she recalled a few fun memories from the adventure.

“I guess you’re right. You’re lucky you had me! Otherwise I think you might have slept in the dungeons.”

Link’s cheeks flared up as he picked up on Zelda referencing an embarrassing moment he had in one of the quests.

“H-hey! Here I am, offering to do something nice for you, and this is how you pay me?” A glint of mischief in his eyes as he added exaggerated his tone in a joking manner.

“If you don’t like it, then maybe you should take better care of yourself! And maybe then I’ll stop teasing you.” Link gave a fake huff of indignance.

“But it’s true! If I find out you’re still as careless as you were back then, I’ll put a phantom in your house so you’re reminded of me and do the minimum to take care of yourself.”

The hero pretended to roll his eyes in annoyance, face decorated with an evil smirk.

“If you do that, I’ll invite a rat family to your bedroom so they can turn it into their home.”

The princess gasped in disbelief. This time she was the one whose face dusted with pink on the cheeks as Link chuckled at her reaction.

“Here I am, worrying about your well-being, and this is how you pay me?” Zelda imitated his tone from earlier as if to mock him.

It only made the engineer laugh loudly, until his contagious laughter caught on to Zelda herself and the room was filled by the sound of their combined laughs. They were probably heard all the way from a few corridors away but neither of them cared about the volume of their voice, taking them at least a minute until they were both gasping to recover air and finally calmed down. Zelda was the first to speak again.

“Okay, but really now. I do hope you’re actually looking after yourself now.”

“Alright! I’m not as careless anymore, I promise.” Link put his hands up as a sign of defeat.

Zelda showed a smug smirk, knowing she had won this time, but having no further intentions of teasing Link.

“Well, it was a lot of fun talking with you again. Let’s go, Link!” Zelda swiftly stood up from her seat and set her hand out for Link to take, her demand and actions snapped him out of the head-space he was in.

“H-huh? Go where?”

“On that trip you said you’d take me, dummy!”

“Right now?! Are you sure?” The hero hesitantly took the princess’s hand, standing up much slower than she did in comparison.

“Yes! Oh wait, I forgot to ask you if you’re free for the rest of the day, didn’t I?” Zelda flashed him an apologetic smile, letting go of his hand. “Do you still have to do something today?”

Link looked to the side, scanning his mind to make sure there wasn’t any unattended business he has to take care of later, but he didn’t find anything. Well, there wasn’t anything except for a minor favor Alfonzo had asked him to fulfill. But he knew his instructor well and it wasn’t anything urgent; surely, Alfonzo wouldn’t mind if Link took longer to complete his task if he found out that Zelda was involved.

“No, not anymore. I’m free now.” He smiled to hide the lie, which Zelda bought anyway.

The girl punched the air in celebration. Link half-expected the princess to bolt out of the room right that moment with him in tow like she had done earlier, but was thankful to see that wasn’t running out yet.

“So, where would you like to go, Your Highness?” The engineer wiggled his eyebrows at Zelda as her formal title rolled out of his tongue.

The princess rolled her eyes and poked one of his sides a few times to tickle him, making Link cover that vulnerable section and Zelda drew back her hand, satisfied on the inside that she was able to get back at the other teen. She held her chin on one of her hands, taking on a pose of thought as she hummed and wondered where she wanted to go.

“How about you take me to Aboda Village? I want to know more about you.”

Link stared at her with a face of confusion, but ultimately didn’t question her decision like he first intended to.

“If that’s where you wanna go, then I’ll take you there.”

“Great! It’s time to go, then.” Zelda was beginning to head out, but Link didn’t follow her as a question of importance spun in his head.

“Zelda, wait. Don’t you need a guard to go with you?”

“Under regular circumstances, I would. But since I’m going with you, you’ll be my escort this time.” The princess stated as if she weren’t talking about something important at all.

“You can do that?! Are you sure?” Link’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I have more freedom now that a certain someone isn’t here anymore, so I fully make the rules now! Well, I do for the most part…” The last sentence coming out in a whisper.

“I trust you, Link. You saved my life before, and I know you’d do it again if you had to. Just like I’d do the same for you in a heartbeat if it ever came to it.”

The hero was left speechless, body unmoving as several feelings ran through his head.

“And if anyone were to doubt you, I’ll be there to remind them why you’re more capable than any other swordsman in New Hyrule! If you had chosen to become part of the castle guard, you’d have ended as my personal body guard.”

Link let out a giggle of joy and took the princess’s hand in his, feeling more determined than he ever had before.

“Well, Your Highness, you’re in luck that I keep my sword in my train. Now let’s go back to adventure!”

Zelda mentally pat herself on the back as she considered to have achieved a significant victory for the day. She was happy to see Link come out of his shell little by little, but she thought the cherry on top was to know that he was feeling confident. She nodded at him in approval with energy, while making it a new goal for herself to help Link have more of these moments. She believes that he very well deserves them more than anyone else.

#tloz st #the legend of zelda spirit tracks #spirit tracks #st link #st zelda #zelda x link #cosmic writing

[dykeomania]

𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: "please."

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: riding subtop!ellie's thigh as a punishment until she cracks because she edged you (implied). Lol.

𝐚/𝐧: defining a “blurb” as something similar to a one mic, one take, except it’s more like.. whatever i write in one sitting. it is just a really, really, really coherent thought. so. anyways, subtop!ellie stans, stand the fuck up. subbottom!ellie stans, y’all are next. this isn't an actual fic, so, this isn't the last of sub!ellie on my blog, i'm not gonna just do her dirty like that. kinda proofread, but not really focusing too much on it, 'cause that throws away the whole point. it's alright. entirely for the culture. join the slutting out ellie train or get left behind!!!!!!!!! (also fun fact, this was actually a part of guilty pleasure. but i.. edited guilty pleasure. so. now it's here.)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, mdni. vulgar language (dirty talk, like, ellie is... down terrible), choking. pwithoutp, as per usual. it's. it's..... it's.......... Mhm.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 746. sumn light.

.   .   .   .

"beg." ellie has seen a million different versions of herself but she'd argue that none of them have ever been this small. she's looking up at you with the biggest, brightest, pair of doe green eyes that you think you've ever seen, and you can feel her breath trembling; slipping through the gate of her top teeth that's digging into her lower lip or stumbling out of her parted lips that yours are hovering over. she's so delirious and drunk off the feeling of your pussy against her bare thigh, she could cry. the way you drag your clit over the tensed muscle, your slick cunt making her skin glisten and she can't see it, but fuck, can she feel it. she would do anything to have you replace her thigh with her face. anything, to have you replace her thigh with her own pussy and let you use her even when she's too sensitive.

anything to be able to loosen the tight grip of the blanket she had at her sides and reach her hand up and just fucking touch you, in any way.

"y/n, please," it's a plea that sounds like it should be accompanied by a tear, or a grit of her teeth; so frayed, and cracked around all of its edges, "i have been so. so. fucking. good. please, i'll do whatever you want --" she can feel you rutting against her thigh quicker, and she's gasping at this point. she needs to fuck you. if she had any idea how fucking ridiculous she looked right now, she'd probably shoot herself. "--i'll fuck you so good, i'll make you feel so fucking good -- i'll make you feel better, y/n, please. please? please, baby-- fuck, please--"

you had to shut her up by tightening your hand around her throat. had to. or else ellie would've kept going -- could've kept going for however long she needed to as long as it meant that she got to do something, be it as simple as kiss you, getting the chance to drag her hand over your skin, press her fingers into your hips, push her thigh against your fucking clit, to kiss you, to feel you,

ellie has never, ever, been this. fucking. small.

"you wanna touch me?" you coo, hand involuntarily tightening around your girlfriend's throat.

her eyes are like mossy puddles as she looks at you. her breaths skipping, her voice between a whine and a murmur as she sighs out a "yes." "yeah, what do you want?" "want your pussy on my face, want you to fucking grind your pussy on my tongue, fucking -- please."

"you wanna fucking make me cum, huh? you think you deserve to, you're fucking sorry?"

"fuck, yes--" she slurs, "say it." "m'so--m'so sorry, i'm so, so sorry, i'm so fucking sorry, baby, please--"

"lay down." your words -- solidified by you actually moving off of ellie's thigh -- are sudden and unexpected. and after an extremely unproductive half hour, they make ellie's eyes light up like fucking slot machines. "fucking lay down right now, before i change my mind."

"ohmygod," absolution permeates ellie's voice as she rushes to shuffle to.. wherever you need her to be, want her to be, what-the-fuck-ever. she couldn't care less. couldn't care more about anything other than the sight of your cunt, shining and clit swollen, being readied to lower onto her face. this had to be religious. it was like she was about to be fucking baptized, "you better fucking make me cum, or i swear to god."

"oh, fuck," ellie is already scrambling at the sight of your pussy, which to her, is essentially the actual second coming of christ, personified. reaching to pull you down, so eager to experience the bliss of your glistening cunt, "oh my god, thank you." "hey." ellie whimpers at the sudden abrupt grasp that you take on her jaw. "are you gonna fucking make me cum?" "i will-- i will, i will," ellie nods, fingers pressing into your thighs "fuck, i will. i promise. m'sorry -- fuck, m'so sorry, thank you."

you take a second to marvel at the girl beneath you. her damp skin glistening, purely with anticipation. her expression wrecked, her face flushed, her entire existence in this moment being entirely devoted to you. your grip softens, and you find yourself nodding too as you pass a hand through her hair, grasping onto it for leverage and slightly pushing her head back into the cushions, "good girl."

"always," ellie sighs, her hot breath fanning against your lowering pussy, "so good, just for you."

#tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou2 ellie x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x f!reader #the last of us ii #tlou fic #tlou smut #mia's smut blurbs

[scribbling-dragon]

I know a while ago you mentioned wanting to write something more for the Red Bandit au, so maybe some kind of fic that takes place after they get together, about Tango like, resisting stealing stuff now that he's dating the sherrif?

uhm. so this might be a little longer than what you might have anticipated me writing. but. in my defence i am not normal over them

thieving tendencies

summary:

Still, old habits die hard, and he finds himself eyeing up several rather valuable items, some of which would just be so easy to steal. It’s like they're trying to convince him to steal them, he swears some of them whisper to him when he’s not looking, in an attempt to get him to steal them. But he’s not about to sneak a treasure or two behind Jimmy’s back, especially not when there are others watching them both.

But the temptation is still there, and he has to consistently remind himself not to when he considers the idea of it.

-

Or, five times Tango resisted stealing something, and the one time he doesn't.

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(14,891 words)

(also reblogs are super appreciated btw!)

There has been a…small adjustment period. Normally, supplies aren't an issue for him - he sees something, and he takes it, usually accompanied by a sweet grin and a few pretty words to win over whoever he’s attempting to rob. Normally, he can rob them blind easily enough, lay on enough of the charm to leave them blind to his searching hands, and the several, usually valuable, items he tucks away.

Normally, the charm also takes only a few moments to wear off, before they realise that their shop is severely lacking several items, and the incredibly charming customer they just had never actually bought anything, despite the interest he showed in several of the items.

It is usually at this point that he gets chased, though very few have caught him. And even fewer of those captures weren't purposeful; sometimes, it worked in his favour to get caught for a little bit. Sit around in a cell for a few days, get fed at regular-ish times, then melt the bars and make his grand escape.

Now, however, he stands beside one of the upholders of law. And not just stood beside him with the intent of picking his pockets and stealing a kiss before making another grand escape. No, he’s standing beside him in an I’ve-made-an-alliance-with-this-guy kinda way, in a way that makes other bandits, some of which he was rather good friends with (good friends qualifying as someone that has only stabbed him in the back once or twice), watch him with open hatred.

It probably doesn't help that he is often one of the people that helped put them behind bars; their new alliance that is actually less of an alliance and more of him gaining proper, official citizenship in Tumble Town and unofficially joining its law enforcement.

Still, old habits die hard, and he finds himself eyeing up several rather valuable items, some of which would just be so easy to steal. It’s like they're trying to convince him to steal them, he swears some of them whisper to him when he’s not looking, in an attempt to get him to steal them. But he’s not about to sneak a treasure or two behind Jimmy’s back, especially not when there are others watching them both.

But the temptation is still there, and he has to consistently remind himself not to when he considers the idea of it.

--- --- ---

I.

The Ancient Capital certainly lives up to its name. The crumbling brick and overgrown moss is enough of a giveaway to the sheer age of the place, enough so that he’s more than a little cautious walking beneath each of the archways. The apparent age of the place is also enough for him to be healthily cautious with the stability of everything here. He doesn't think Pixl is the kinda guy to live in a structurally unsound place…but Pixl is also a historian, and he’s heard more than a singular tale of a vengeful historian that chased some of the bandits he’s met.

So, it is with a healthy caution that he follows Jimmy, more than aware of how quickly places like this can cave in on your head. A singular pebble knocked out of place can be enough to disturb the careful balance the place has maintained for the past…however long; disturbing the place either through the echoing vibrations of its landing, or because it was some kind of load-bearing pebble. He’s been victim to more than one load-bearing pebble.

Jimmy seems uncaring, either because he has simply stopped caring, or he never stopped to begin caring in the first place. Either way, he strolls into the catacombs, down the sloping steps and into the underground part of the building. The lanterns along the walls only add to the creepy atmosphere, and it’s more than enough for Tango to wonder how Pixl even received the permit to make a cosy little home for himself in this place. From what he’s heard of the Guild - and experienced - they're mostly scholars with sticks up their asses, and holier-than-thou values; all of which concludes in a dislike for him and the business he runs. Ran.

He just hopes that Pixl hasn't realised who was stealing most of the valuable artefacts from beneath his nose. Or simply straight out of the Guild’s vaults. For somewhere that prides themselves on the preservation of history, their security is more than a little lacking- perhaps something to be expected when the entire populace is made up of scholars that do little more than raise a quill in their entire lives. They might have raised a pencil, if you were lucky, but that was about as far as the physical capabilities of the Guild and its scholars went.

…Maybe he should bring up some of the security concerns to Jimmy. It would be the logical thing to do, especially as he’s no longer benefitting from the easy access as he once was. It’s fine, he’ll make the decision when they return to Tumble Town. Gives him plenty of time to think things over.

The shadows stretch long around him as they descend, casting distorted shadows on the walls as they descend deeper into this Ancient Capital. A spider scuttles over the wall, legs elongated by the shadows, flickering over the fine wisps of a broken cobweb that it calls home. He’s sure if he looked a little longer, he would find several identical spiders, all clambering over the walls with their uneven and long-legged gait, disappearing into the various cracks and crevices in the walls, weaving their webs and creating thick gossamer threads of white that you never see until you've already walked into them.

Jimmy sputters ahead of him, jerking his head back and clawing at the air in front of him. “Oh, ew,” he mutters, “ew, ew, ew.” He flails a little more, rubbing his hands on his shirt, dusting his fingers off. Spiderweb still trails from his hair, glinting brightly beneath the light of the lanterns lining the corridor around them.

“You still have some on you,” he says, voice echoing around and further into the catacombs. Pixl hasn't made an appearance yet, either because he’s not here, or he hasn't heard them.

“Have I?” Jimmy wipes at his face again, scrubbing at his cheeks, before looking back at Tango. “Gone?”

“No, c’mere,” he extends a hand, Jimmy leaning into the touch as he brushes the cobwebs from Jimmy’s hair, ignoring the way they stick to his fingers as he brushes them off. They're closer like this, hidden quite nicely in the shadowed corner they've found themselves in. He grins at Jimmy, leaning a little closer, hand slipping to cup the back of his head as he leans a little closer. He can feel Jimmy’s breath on his lips as he crowds him a little closer to the wall, hand placed between the brick and the back of his head. He looks down at Jimmy’s lips, then back up to his eyes, finds Jimmy doing the same.

“See something you like?” He whispers into the space between them, hardly needing to raise his voice any louder. Any louder, and it risks becoming an echo, risks becoming something Pixl might hear and come investigate. And Jimmy has done so well with maintaining his reputation so far- he certainly won't be the one to ruin it for him.

“Certainly,” Jimmy pushes at his shoulder, pushes him back a little further, and then a little more, until there’s a respectable distance between them. “But I'm working, and so are you.” He pokes him in the chest, a grin betraying that he’s not actually annoyed with him, no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise.

“You're telling me you've never kissed on the job?” He allows Jimmy to slip away from the wall, returning to their descent into the catacomb. These stairs are far too long for it to be anything short of ominous, though he does suppose they're descending into a catacomb, you know, the place you keep dead people.

Again. He does not understand how Pixl managed to secure a permit for living out of this place. Maybe everyone at the Guild is just a little insane. You've probably gotta be at least a little crazy, to dedicate your life to something that has already happened, something that won't change no matter how many times you stare at it - it’s already happened and that’s that. Yeah, probably a little bit insane. Still doesn't explain how he got the permit though. Or why he chose to live in the same place as a bunch of corpses. (Seriously, has this guy never read a horror book? This is literally how everything bad happens; someone messes about in a crypt or a catacomb and release some ancient evil deadset on killing everyone. The tropes don't lie.)

“Jimmy!” They turn a corner, finally, and emerge into somewhere that looks a little more lived in. And a lot more like a catacombs than he was actually expecting. He was fully prepared for the catacombs to be modified in some way, for them to simply look like any other house, just…very far underground, and in an ancient place that used to hold a lot of dead bodies. Okay, maybe not any other house, but there was the chance that it looked like any other house…and less like it was still a functioning catacombs. “And Tango!”

Pixl is covered in dust, grinning at them both in such a way that implies he does not realise how covered in dust he is. Which is actually a little impressive, seeing as Tango had almost thought he was a ghost at first with all the dust. Surely, it’s getting in his eyes. Right? It’s gotta be getting in his eyes.

“Pix.” Jimmy greets with a smile, running a hand along the edge of his hat and almost tipping it forward. He rarely ever tips it properly forward, and never goes to take it off in an odd version of a bow. It’s the greeting he gives, hand dropping back to his side once he’s finished with it. “Are you aware, uh,” Jimmy stares at the archaeologist (or is he a historian? He certainly does enough digs to be an archaeologist, but whether he actually is an archaeologist, or simply doing whatever he wants is beyond Tango), unsure on how to approach telling his friend that he’s covered head-to-toe in dust.

“You're covered in dust.” Tango interjects, saving Jimmy from finding his words.

“Oh, yes,” Pixl looks down at himself as though he’d forgotten he was covered in dust. Absolutely adding to the weirdness factor. “Sorry, I did mean to clean up a little, change my shirt and stuff, but I must have lost track of time.” He gestures behind him, to a small leather bag, currently open on his desk, spilling various items over it.

“It’s fine,” Jimmy waves it off, “what did you need?”

“...Need?” Pixl stares at Jimmy for a moment. “Oh! Yes! There were a few reports from the Guild of suspicious activity around the premises, and they wanted me to report it to you. There hasn't been any further news on it, but it was only a few days ago that they sent the request to me, so nothing’s happened yet, probably.”

“Probably not,” Tango shrugs. “As lacking as the Guild’s security is, not many actually know that, so anyone wanting to do a job and steal a few priceless artefacts is bound to skulk around and check the place out. You've got someone either lacking in experience or lacking in knowledge of the area, both of which is going to make them easier to deal with.”

He walks across the room as he talks, gesturing a little with his hands as he speaks, running one along the wall beside him. A claw catches on a crack in the brick as he runs the pads of his fingers along it, feeling the worn brick tug on his skin. He makes his slow way across the room, feeling both Pixl and Jimmy watching him as he speaks.

He turns back to face them as he reaches Pixl’s desk, leaning back against it, crossing his feet at the ankle. “At least, that’s what I assume. Most of the bandits and thieves that got caught stealing from the Guild were rookies, or had simply travelled there after hearing about the numerous artefacts they're housing.” He taps a finger against the desk, looking at the bag of goods from the corner of his eye.

Several of them shine, catching his attention, sparkling beneath the flickering light of the lanterns. It’s significantly brighter in here than the rest of the catacombs, the lanterns a little better fueled, their blue flames brighter. There’s more of them, too, gathered in small clusters rather than sparsely placed- just enough to make sure someone doesn't trip down the stairs and break their neck or something.

“And…these ‘rookies’ will be easier to catch?” Pixl asks, “Or those that know less about the Guild?”

“Precisely,” he nods, gesturing towards Pixl in agreement. “If they're a rookie, they won't know what they're doing at all, the most knowledge they'll have behind them is either another thief, in which case you have a little bit more of a problem, or a book. You would not believe the amount of people that think becoming a thief is all fun and games because they read some book that glorified it.” He shifts his weight a little, forwards then back, resettles himself in front of the bag, so his body is blocking most of it from sight. His tail flicks over the ground behind him, brushing over the smooth stone. “Someone unfamiliar with the Guild and the land itself will be easier to catch after they leave the building. Lack of experience means you can drive them into a corner relatively easily, and they won't even realise it until it’s too late.”

“Oh,” Pixl nods along, looking at Jimmy. “I didn't know that.”

“Because you weren't meant to.” Tango shrugs, finger still tapping away on the desk behind him. The sound has long since faded into background noise, because neither of them pay attention to it anymore. Neither do they pay attention to the small clinking and rustling sounds from the bag behind him, focused instead on his words and his smile and his other hand, gesturing aimlessly, with no other purpose than making them look there, making them focus there. “Also, you guys seriously need to sort out your security problems. Breaking in and out of your high-security vaults should not be as easy as it is.”

Pixl pulls a face at that, looking mildly offended. He’s not sure why he’s offended at him very helpfully pointing out a security flaw in their building, but whatever makes him feel better. 

“Trust me,” he says, “I can even break in there if you want, prove it to you. I got in and out in a minute and a half once, held the record for ages. Don't know if anyone’s beaten it yet, especially not with how much those artefacts fetched for me…” He trails off at Jimmy shaking his head, widening his eyes a little.

Pixl just hums, nodding once and considering him. “I don't suppose you’d know what happened to that extremely valuable vase that had a depiction of the Dragon on it, do you?” Tango knows exactly which vase he’s talking about. Mainly because he’d almost dropped it several times on his escape out one of the higher windows, as well as the time he almost let it slip off of Revenge’s back as they rode away. It was far too heavy for convenience, and had almost been more effort than it was worth.

“No,” he says, in his best diplomatic voice. “Afraid not.” He doesn't remember the buyer’s face, at least. They’d been very particular about concealing their face, wearing a hood and a mask- the kind you’d see at a masquerade ball. Far too dramatic for the business that he was dealing in at the time. Still, the accent had been far too distinct, and the lack of bidders had been a dead give-away. Besides, the distinctive colour of his eyes was even more of a betrayal to his true identity- seriously, the guy’s gotta invest in some contacts if he wants people to stop recognising him.

His hand settles on something cool and round, fitting comfortably in the palm of his hand when he closes his fist. He draws it out of the bag carefully, ensuring he doesn't knock anything from the table, or disturb any of the things spilling from the bag already. Such a thing would be a dead giveaway.

He freezes in place, the round object in his hand weighing a hundred times more as he looks at Jimmy. Jimmy isn't looking at him, speaking instead to Pixl, offering a far more reasonable way for them to test and improve the security of the Guild, both to dissuade new thieves, and drive away the old ones that have become accustomed with the lacking security system in the vaults.

If he shows Jimmy the prize he’s currently holding, or if Jimmy finds it some weeks later, he’s going to make him return it. He’s probably also going to make him apologise alongside returning the item, like a scolded child that got caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing.

Simply the thought of having to apologise in such a manner (and the thought of returning a prize) is enough to make him set it back down, nudging it back towards the bag.

Still, he can't help but gaze mournfully back at the goods laying on the table as they leave, Jimmy’s hand clasped in his own, pulling him back up the stairs and away from what could have easily been his easiest heist ever.

Pixl waves to them as they go, turning back to his bag, brushing absently at his clothes as though that would be enough to rid him of the dust that is firmly sticking to him. Jimmy tugs him a little further up the steps, waiting until they've turned a corner to stop.

He stops, bumping into Jimmy’s back as Jimmy releases his hand, turning to face him instead. He finds his face being cupped in Jimmy’s hands, looking at the other man.

“I saw you,” Jimmy says, shaking his head. A smile makes the corner of his lips twitch before he flattens them again. “You were gonna steal from Pix, weren't you?”

“It was right there,” he defends, “how could I resist when it was basically singing my name and begging to be stolen?” Jimmy bonks him on the head, soft but reprimanding all the same, even as his shoulders shake with a slight, silent laughter.

“But you resisted anyway, didn't you?” Jimmy smiles. “Good job for that, I'm proud of you.” Then Jimmy leans forward and gives him a chaste peck on the lips, a quick brush of skin on skin with hardly any pressure behind it.

Tango makes a noise in protest, bringing a hand up to the front of Jimmy’s shirt to pull him a little closer, tugging at the silly little bandanna he insists on wearing. He goes for a better kiss, a better reward, than just a simple brush of lips.

His face meets Jimmy’s hand, and he pulls back with a frown.

“I'm not making out with you in my friend’s house.”

“You need better friends,” he grumbles, “what kind of weirdo lives in a catacomb?”

--- --- ---

II.

At this point, Tango’s beginning to feel like Jimmy is trying to forcefully domesticate him by exposing him to other empires. To the immense displeasure of both him and whichever emperor he’s visiting the empire of. They all insist on watching him with an unhealthy dose of mistrust, weirdly cautious around him as though he’s about to rob them blind of everything they own.

As if. He can hardly carry an entire empire in his pockets, can he? The most he can manage is a few valuables, and he’s more than a little likely to think twice about pocketing a few shiny items nowadays. Which is more thinking than he ever did about it in the past.

Still, he’s been working on his diplomatic tact with Jimmy over the past…however long. And he must have gotten at least good enough to be invited (forced) on the trip to Dawn. Their monthly supply pick-up isn't the most exciting of events to attend to, but it’s one that Jimmy carries out dutifully each month.

Jimmy slips off Arrow’s back as they approach the front gates into Dawn, gathering the reins in one hand and leading her forward. Tango copies, slipping from Revenge’s back, patting his neck as he gathers the reins loosely into one hand, knuckles brushing against the underside of Revenge’s head as he leads the horse into Dawn.

It certainly lives up to its name, buildings draped in the colours of sunrise, oranges and yellows billowing in the wind, overlaid with soft pink hues that should probably stand out more than they do. The pink goes rather well with the softer tones of orange and yellow.

It is just past the hour of the empire’s namesake, sun barely rising above the ocean, yet the empire is already a bustle of activity around them. A few people nod a greeting to Jimmy as they walk through the streets, sticking to the edges of the road so as to not inconvenience the people around them with their horses. Still, a few people actually stop to speak to Jimmy, either giving him a simple greeting and slipping Arrow a sugar cube or two, or to make some kind of complaint.

The complaints Jimmy receives are, mostly, petty disputes that could be easily solved if people began communicating without being forced to in a court of law. Genuinely, the amount of times he’s seen Jimmy drag two uncooperating neighbours into the courthouse to settle a dispute over who broke the fence, or who actually owns the fence bordering both of their properties- the list could go on and on; and as much as he enjoys sitting at the back and taking notes on the proceedings of the court, it does get a little unoriginal after a while.

“Sheriff!” A voice raises above the crowds, and Tango turns in the direction of the noise, ears twitching as a hand raises above the heads of the people, waving frantically to gain Jimmy’s attention. Jimmy has turned to look at the disturbance as well, noting the raised, waving hand with a smile and a quirk of his eyebrows, before turning back to the short line (line!) of people that have gathered to voice a complaint or two, firmly telling them his office hours before excusing himself.

One of the many people with a request and/or complaint for the Sheriff to deal with obviously does not realise, or does and simply doesn't care, that Jimmy is now ignoring them, continuing to pursue him. Which doesn't actually lead them very far, because all Jimmy has done is move slightly closer to the edge of the road, watching as the person that had called out to him, not yet emerged from the crowd, moves closer.

“Sheriff,” the person continues to badger, ducking beneath Arrow’s head, dangerously close to the horse’s mouth. She ignores the way Arrow’s ears pin flat back at the person invading her space, patting the horse on the neck absently as she continues to vye for Jimmy’s attention. Arrow’s hooves click against the road as she pulls back, Jimmy’s grip on the reins slackening a little, allowing her to put some distance between herself and the annoying lady. “Please, just a moment more of your time, I need some help with-”

“We’re off duty.” He interjects, stepping a little closer to Jimmy. “He’s told you his office hours already, and unless several hours have passed in the last few hours, those office hours are currently not ongoing.”

The woman stares at him for a moment, eyes wide as she gapes. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, seemingly lost for words as she continues to stare at him. He raises an eyebrow at her as she continues to remain lost for words, watching as she grits her jaw and turns to Jimmy instead.

“Are you just going to let him talk to me like that?” She asks, voice rising a little. Some people around are beginning to look at the spectacle she’s putting on, which is probably her intention, now that he thinks about it a little more. “You're going to take in someone like- like that, and then not even teach him any manners?”

“He has plenty of manners,” Jimmy says. His shoulders are stiff as he looks down at the woman. “But hardly anyone is going to choose to employ their good manners in the face of such blatant rudeness, hm?” Jimmy smiles, tips his hat, and nudges the woman away from Arrow.

She goes with little complaint, skirt swishing around her ankles as she walks away, only glancing backwards once, before she straightens her back and continues on her way, shoulders set in a straight line and chin held high.

“Sheriff!” The crowd parts, and Princess Gem emerges from it, riding atop her bear. Apollo had been a little intimidating the first time Tango had the pleasure of meeting the bear. He’s larger than most other bears Tango’s met, but about four times as friendly as any other bear he’s met, too. Which isn't saying much, in all honesty, because most of the bears he’s met have tried to claw his face off.

Apollo’s only made an attempt to attack him once, and that was because a few of the gems on his harness were too much of a temptation to resist. Too much of a temptation, at least, until he almost lost an eye and a reasonable chunk of skin while attempting to pull a few of the smaller ones loose. After that, he had only approached Apollo with offerings of food in the hopes that the bear had forgotten their first meeting.

“Hi!” Gem slides off her bear, smoothing her dress down as she lands, wings fluttering behind her as she grins up at Jimmy. “Sorry for making you wait, a few other things left me tangled up this morning, I hope you weren't waiting for too long.” Gem peeks over at him too, giving him a small wave and a smile. He waves back at her.

“We weren't waiting too long,” Jimmy assures. “Unlike you, we get up at a reasonable time, usually after the sun is higher in the sky than a few inches.”

“And by doing so you miss the best part of the day; tell me, how is it only seeing the rising sun on the occasional trips you make out here?”

“We don't see the sun until midday in the canyon,” Jimmy says. “So, if we got up as early as everyone here did, we’d be wandering around in the dark, and that’s hardly productive.”

“I suppose not.” Gem laughs, “Alright, anyway, we’ve got the supplies you need this way, if you just want to follow me.” She pulls herself back up onto Apollo in one swift movement, dress shifting in the light breeze, the gold bracelets on her wrists glinting in the early morning sunlight as she settles herself back into Apollo’s harness. The bear moves forward with little prompting, the crowd parting around them as the bear makes his slow way through, plodding along.

People occasionally stop to greet them, the bear and Gem both, offering a rub to the bear’s snout, and a friendly greeting to their princess as she leads the mini parade through her streets.

“It’s less busy here than usual,” he notes, looking around with interest. Normally, the few times he had made the trip out to Dawn, the streets had been far busier despite it being earlier than it currently is. Sometimes, it got to the point where he could hardly slip between the crowds, they were so thick. It did, however, make getting lost in them far easier: your pursuers can't follow you if they can't move through the crowd. But stealing from Dawn also ran the risk of being thrown into the royal prison, meaning he only made the trip when it was a last resort or he had an especially well-paying client waiting for him. “Normally you can hardly move through the streets this early in the morning.”

Gem hums, looking at him in something that might be surprise, but might also be interest. “I wasn't aware you had visited Dawn before.”

“On occasion,” he shrugs. “Wasn't my favourite spot to visit, I must admit- though not because of the sights, the view here is certainly impressive.” He almost stumbles over his words as Gem shoots him a sharp glare from the corner of her eye, though it softens into a laugh a moment later. “I mean no offence,” he attempts, trying to remember what else he’s meant to say when he makes a misstep like this. “It’s just that the crowds are rather hard to move through, and your prison is more than a little off-putting; not exactly somewhere on my bucket list.”

“Well, you're here now, so hopefully you can enjoy the sights more than you usually would. You might also want to consider not drifting into the main business area, I'm certain more than a few of the sellers there want to get their hands on a certain red-eyed and sly bandit. Unfortunately, none of these sellers have been able to give a consistent description, so I'm afraid nothing can be done to recover their wares.” Gem’s eyes twinkle with amusement, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You should be safe for now, though,” she continues, “most people return home at this hour for their morning meal. It’s far more common to begin the work day as the sun is rising, then return home once She has risen above the horizon to begin the day themselves.”

“Huh.” So he could have been getting easier pickings this whole time by waiting until everyone disappears for their morning meals, and then…investigating the unattended stalls. “I didn't know that.”

“Not many people do,” Gem takes a turn at the next junction of roads, leading them onto a far less populated road, missing many of the buildings that had characterised the central district of the empire. “People tend not to consider the lives of others and how they may differ from their own. But it’s certainly interesting to think about how others live, at least to me.” Instead, the cosy buildings give way to rolling fields that are impossible to cultivate in the mesa. The cracked earth, soil easily blown away by the wind and carrying away anything that could be remotely useful to growing crops makes everything far harder; and it would be even more expensive to purchase fertilisers and add the minerals back to the soil than just buying from Dawn.

Gem slips from Apollo’s back, wings pressing flat together, then fluttering back out. The sun catches on the orange and reds of the wings, causing them to almost glow beneath the sun’s rays. Gem pats Apollo on the head, scratching behind his ears, before nudging him away and continuing up the worn path to one of the many storage buildings they have scattered around the area.

“I've got your usual wagon prepared,” Gem says, as they continue up the path. Revenge nudges his nose against the side of Tango’s face, snorting his displeasure directly in his ears. It makes his ears flatten back, shoving Revenge’s nose away from his face with a gentle hand, muttering underneath his breath. “All the usual supplies are ready to go, provided you have the usual goods.”

“What do you take me for?” Jimmy asks, though there’s an undertone of amusement in his voice. He’s rather certain that the alliance between Jimmy and Dawn is one of the longest standing alliances on this continent, if only due to the reliance Jimmy has on Dawn’s produce, Gem’s kindness, and the fickle nature of the other empires. “Of course I've got the goods.” He pats the saddlebags on Arrow’s back, a small puff of gunpowder drifting out the small gap at the top.

“I'm only teasing.” Gem pushes the doors open, arms straining a little bit with the effort to shove both of them open. One of the catches as she gets it halfway open, meaning he gets a front row seat to watching her kick it the rest of the way open. He watches the door swing back on its hinges with little protest after that, a few pieces of straw scattering from the draft they let in. She dusts her hands off, turning around with a polite smile as though she hadn't just kicked the door open like that. “Feel free to inspect everything, I’ll just be a moment.”

She disappears quickly after that, leaving Tango staring after her retreating back as she makes her way into one of the fields, inspecting several of the crops growing there. “Huh.”

“She’s something isn't she?” Jimmy’s voice echoes from inside the storehouse, and he hurries to follow him inside, tugging Revenge after him. There are several scrape marks on the door, he notes, as though this isn't the first time she’s had to kick the doors open like that. “Not what you expected, I take it?”

“I’ve met Gem before,” he scoffs, “don't act like we've never seen each other.”

Jimmy hums, picking through some of the contents on the wagon, but also not really checking that everything is there. Nothing has actually been missing from their usual supply stock-ups yet, so he assumes there’s a trust between Jimmy and Gem on that one. “Gem at a meeting is miles apart from the Gem she is outside of a meeting. Tell me, what were you expecting her to be like?”

“Eh,” Revenge doesn't seem very inclined to move anywhere at the moment, so he loops the reins back over his neck and leaves him stood just inside the doorway, stepping further into the barn to investigate what exactly it is that’s lining the shelves along the walls. “I don't know, probably someone a little more uptight- I mean, she is a princess, isn't she? Unless she’s just, like, someone that gave herself a title?” He turns to look at Jimmy in question.

“No, she is actually a princess.” Jimmy laughs. “And, from what I've read or been told, she comes from a long line of some kind of royalty. Very involved with worshipping the sun and everything that entails; rising with the sun, all the sun motifs, all that jazz.”

Itt’s bottles upon bottles of honey on the shelf, each of them shimmering a deep gold that serves only to attract his eyes to the rows upon rows, stacks upon stacks, shelves upon shelves of the stuff. It would be a little worrying how much of the stuff she has, if he hadn't seen a few of the records in Jimmy’s office. Several of them detail the numerous drunken incidents in Chromia, that also technically couldn't be filed under drunken incidents due to the drink in question being…honey.

“Let me guess,” he picks one of the bottles up, turning it around as he inspects it, “Pixl gave you a history lecture on the history of religion in Dawn and its links with the monarchy?” The honey rolls around inside the bottle, slightly see-through. He turns, squinting at Jimmy through the golden substance, grinning at the way it distorts his face. It makes his disapproving frown look all the more amusing than it usually does.

“I wouldn't call it a lecture, per se-”

“I'm back!” Gem announces herself, bounding in through the doors. He shoves the honey bottle onto the shelf behind him, not turning to look, simply hearing it clink against several other bottles and praying his hasty movements don't upset the balance of several fragile bottles of honey and send them all toppling from the shelf.

It’s unnatural how much energy Gem has this early in the morning. Even if they rise with the sun, it doesn't mean that she should be able to go bounding around like some five-year-old hopped up on sugar. Actually…he considers the shelves of honey behind him, maybe Gem just drinks a bottle of honey in the morning rather than a coffee. That would make far more sense, especially with the whole…butterfly thing she has going on. (Butterflies like sugar, right?)

“Gem,” he greets, stepping away from the shelf behind him and trying not to look too guilty. He had, perhaps, considered taking a few of the bottles of honey. Just to see what they were like! Not for any malicious reason, though he would like to see what putting honey in one of Scott’s drinks would do to him. Maybe they can get the man a record with the number of drunken incidents that can't actually be counted as drunken incidents because of the substances involved. He’s certain Jimmy would have an aneurysm.

“Tango!” She zeroes in on him, which is exactly what he was trying to avoid her doing. He freezes in place, barely a step away from the shelves, and still very much looking like he was messing around with the items on them. Which he was, but Gem doesn't need to know that. “Ooh, were you looking at the honey stores?” She bounds over to him, a slight skip in her step as she draws closer.

“Uh, yes?” No point in lying at this point. He looks to Jimmy for help, who is very unhelpfully going through the wares in the wagon and ignoring his pleading stare for help. He glares at the man instead, finding far more satisfaction in boring a hole into the back of his head while he steadfastly ignores him.

“You can have some of it if you’d like.” He looks back to Gem, who is…holding several bottles of honey out towards him. She tries to push them into his hands with a smile, but he takes a step back, raising his hands slightly so he can't take them, pushing them back towards her.

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, you can keep them.”

“Seriously,” Gem rolls her eyes with a smile, “you can take them, I promise. They're a test batch for a different kind of pollen. I don't know how they are, and the only person that buys large quantities of honey is Scott, and that’s mostly for his tavern. I don't want to sell him a batch of honey that doesn't taste very nice.”

“Different…pollen?”

Gem gasps, eyes widening dramatically as she looks back at Jimmy. “Jimmy!” She raises her voice a little, and the man finally, finally, turns to face them, a grin threatening to break out on his face. “How could you bring your boyfriend into my empire when he doesn't know anything about honey? You're a disgrace to this alliance.”

“But I know how much you love telling people about honey yourself.” Jimmy says, grin still trying to worm its way onto his lips, shoulders beginning to shake as he holds in a laugh. “Tango loves learning new things, too, don't you?”

Gem squints at Jimmy for a moment longer, wings still behind her back. “I suppose you can live another day.” She sniffs, turning back to him instead. “Now, how much do you know about the process of honey-making?”

“Uh, not much?”

Gem’s eyes light up, and he gets the distinct feeling that was the wrong thing to say. “Perfect.”

--- --- ---

III.

“And you're sure I have to be here?” They're walking, this time. Something about horses not being particularly fit for descending into the caverns of the Goblands, or something. He understands that the rocky descent might be a little bit harder on them, but they descend into the canyon that houses Tumble Town easily enough most days. “Isn't it kinda like…rubbing it in his face that he’s not your deputy anymore?”

“You're not my deputy.” Tango releases the branch he’d been helpfully holding out of the way, watching as it flicks back and catches Jimmy in the face, giving him a mouthful of leaves. “And what would I be rubbing in his face? That he no longer has the right to go around and act as a law enforcer?”

“That you've found someone better than him, obviously.” He gestures to himself, grinning as Jimmy brushes past him, onto the beginning of the path into the Goblands. It looks like a fancier version of a mine entrance, wider and a little more cavernous. The lanterns would give a far cosier feel if they weren't high above his head, swinging ominously back and forth as he steps over the threshold, into the Goblands.

“You're just here in case he decides he wants to be a little difficult. That’s all.” Jimmy stops and waits for him, pushing his hat back from his forehead, fingers fiddling with the brim of his hat nervously. “Not that he’s going to be difficult, we didn't leave matters that badly.”

“Uh, yeah, you did.” He’s all for reassurance and looking at a situation positively, but he cannot see this playing out in any way other than ending in an argument. The level of argument that may be (from petty arguments they deal with every day to earth-shattering, catastrophic levels of argument), he’s not so sure on. He’s hoping it’s not on the catastrophic levels, because he doesn't know how well a massive cavern is going to withstand whatever kind of fight would follow after such an argument. “But I'm here for damage control, apparently, so how badly can it go?”

He gestures to himself, again, as if to highlight the clothes he wears. The clothes that are distinctly not the uniform of the law enforcement department, and most certainly are the clothes of the famed Red Bandit. (he still doesn't understand how he ended up with such a stupid name- do people not have any creativity left in them these days?)

Jimmy grimaces, as though only just realising how terribly this might truly go. “It’s gonna be fine.” He repeats, steeling himself before he steps fully into the Goblands, allowing the darkness of the cavern to swallow him whole. Tango sighs, before following behind him.

If he knew that accepting Jimmy’s offer to give him a more permanent position in the Law would have resulted in him being dragged along wherever Jimmy goes (which isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially not when many of those places happen to be nicely shadowed corners just big enough for two people- but it is a problem when Jimmy insists on maintaining some kind of professionalism while “on-duty”) he might have at least though about it twice. As it is, he follows behind Jimmy, down the rickety path that leads into the Goblands.

It sways with each step they take, and Jimmy ahead of him, two of them on this bridge at once, only serves to make it rock back and forth even more. It’s the kind of bridge you read about in every stereotypical adventure book, complete with the hardly clinging-on rope that ties this precarious bridge from end to end, perfect for someone to come along and cut it loose and send them swinging. And he doubts either of them know the correct type of heroics to save them from that impending doom.

The low lighting does not help at all either, it’s bad enough that even his eyes struggle to adapt to the dimness surrounding them. He can't even begin to imagine how Jimmy’s coping, though the slightly longer moments of lingering when they come across the lanterns are enough of a hint for him.

As such, it is a relief when they step onto solid ground once more, the rock cool beneath his feet, rough in places where it hasn't been completely smoothed over by machinery and time. It’s also a relief to not have to squint his eyes so much any longer, looking out for any missing planks in the bridge across. fWhip seems like the type of person to purposefully leave a plank missing just so he can laugh at whichever poor, unfortunate soul is the first to realise that plank is missing.

The lanterns are much closer together here, casting their soft glow across the stone, flickering slightly as they walk past them. His tail flicks across the ground behind him as he walks, swaying back and forth, occasionally brushing against Jimmy's leg. He pretends not to notice when he does this, relishing in the small glances Jimmy keeps sending him from the corner of his eye, as though wondering whether the brushes are purposeful or not. They most certainly are, but Jimmy continues to put a lot of thought into the matter, it seems. Enough thought, that he looks almost surprised when they actually arrive, staring up at the village ahead of them as though he forgot why they were here.

Tango walks ahead, snagging Jimmy’s hand in his own and pulling him forward, into the village of goblins. Several of them stop to stare at them as they pass through, watching them with suspicion, and barely masked hatred that is mostly aimed at Jimmy. Though he’s certain more than a few of them recognise him too, glaring at him a little more heatedly. He has to resist waving back at them, no doubt victims of a few of his daytime robberies, reminding himself to maintain diplomatic relations, even if the ones here seem to be unsalvageable.

The path up to fWhip’s house is the widest of them all, obviously the most commonly traversed, and Jimmy walks up it like it is second-nature. It probably was, at some point; they both were at each other’s empires more often than not, working together on various projects as the two law enforcers of the server. He had almost been certain that alliance between the two could not be broken off, even if one of them tried their very best, but it had. From the few retellings he’d received, from both Pixl and Gem, it sounded like a rather messy divorce. Between two people that weren't actually married.

He’s never had the fortune (or misfortune?) of seeing the two interact, so he’s not actually sure of what to expect when Jimmy knocks on what he assumes is fWhip’s door. There’s nothing to label it as fWhip’s door, nothing to make it stand out from the other houses, but Jimmy knocks on it, holding his breath, waits a moment, then steps back.

Tango squeezes his hand once, before detangling their fingers and slipping his hands loose, taking a further step back, putting distance between himself, the door, and Jimmy. He folds his hands behind his back, ears pricked and listening as footsteps approach the door. He can hear faint grumbling, short, half-bitten off complaints as the person behind the door twists the door and yanks it open.

“Look, I don't care if the machines stop working again, okay? I just want to sleep for a few hours. Five hours, that’s all I ask, then I can-” fWhip looks up, sour expression souring even further as his gaze lands on Jimmy. “Oh.” His grip on the door tightens. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” Jimmy says back, apparently not coming up with anything better to say in response to that. Not even making an attempt at smoothing things over, buttering fWhip up a little, before he demands the badge back.

“No.” fWhip goes to slam the door shut, and he would have definitely succeeded if Jimmy hadn't jammed his foot in the doorway, preventing it from closing completely. fWhip continues to grumble at him, shoving at the door once more, as though hoping that Jimmy might pull his foot back. To no avail. JImmy’s foot remains firmly in the doorway of fWhip’s incredibly nondescript house, nestled among several other nondescript houses, all of which are crammed back against the wall of the cavern; some of them are precariously balancing on a chunk of rock and several flimsy looking stilts. It looks like a strong breeze could knock them over if it tried, which…probably a good thing that wind reaching so far down into a cave system is rare, otherwise there would be significant structural hazards to this place.

He decides to stop thinking about how structurally unsound this place has the potential to be.

“We’re just here to talk,” Jimmy says. Which is a little more diplomatic than his first few words. Decidedly neutral, but fWhip must find some problem with it, because his face scrunches up, large ears pinning back as he glares up at Jimmy.

“It’s always just talking with you, isn't it?” fWhip scoffs, pulling the door open fully. “Go on then, talk. And then maybe, maybe, I’ll decide to give you the time of day. Just,” he holds a finger up, interrupting Jimmy before he can even start, “bear in mind that I am running on less than six hours of sleep, and you are currently interrupting my break.”

“Right.” He loves the man, but Jimmy could at least make an effort at not looking so intimidated by someone that hardly reaches past his knee. Tango would make a joke about his short stature if fWhip didn't look so much like he would bite. “Uh, got it. We’re not here to take up too much of your time, I just need something from you.”

“You need something from me.” fWhip repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Go on then, what is it that the magnificent Sheriff needs from me?”

“Your badge.” Jimmy holds a hand out. “You no longer have a claim to it, though I'm sure everyone knows about your recent…departure from upholding the Law.”

“You make it sound like I go around breaking it.” fWhip scoffs. “Though I suppose you have someone else for that, hm?” fWhip looks around Jimmy at him. He waves a hand at him, fingers curling as he grins a little. He can't help it really, even if it does put fWhip in a worse mood than he already appears to be. He grins when he’s nervous, so sue him! Actually…maybe fWhip will sue him, he’s heard the goblin is some kind of lawyer; he doubts you can sue someone for grinning at you at an inopportune moment, though.

“Tango hardly counted as a criminal in the first place.” Jimmy says. Which, rude! He was an incredibly successful criminal actually, he just knew not to mix potential relationships and work, actually. Something which may have worked a little bit too well, seeing as Jimmy is still very much so unaware of the numerous underground dealings Tango was definitely involved in. Ah well, nothing a trip to the tavern won't fix. “And he’s doing a…form of community service to make up for any crimes he did commit. Besides, we’re not here about him, we’re here about you.”

The house is a bit smaller than the ones he usually sees, but the windows are still plenty sizable, certainly enough for him to crawl through, definitely large enough for him to do it without causing too much of a disturbance. It might take a little more to navigate the smaller rooms, suited to a person of goblin-size rather than humanoid size, but he could likely do it as silently as any other robbery.

“And what if I just said no?” fWhip asks. “What then?”

There’s nothing balanced on the edge of a windowsill either, not that he can see, at least. Something else that he wouldn't have to worry about if Jimmy decides that breaking in and simply stealing the badge back would be better. But then there would be the repercussions and implications that come with the Sheriff’s Deputy Badge disappearing so soon after the both of them, one of which is a well-known thief in the area, come to visit in an attempt to demand it.

Several goblins are watching them from their own homes too, even though they are most certainly trying their best to be subtle about it. He doesn't blame them, really, he does enjoy listening to a few of the neighbours get into the occasional spat, even if it means him or Jimmy will eventually have to get involved and clean the inevitable mess afterwards. Still, he’s a sucker for neighbourhood drama, so he just winks at one of them when he catches their eye, catching them peeking on the argument currently brewing on fWhip’s doorstep.

They pull their shutters a little further closed when he winks at them, but they don't stop watching, simply continuing to peek out of the smaller gap, far more hidden than before.

“I'm not giving it to you.” fWhip crosses his arms, blocking the doorway and staring up at Jimmy. He’s puffing up a little too, like a cat, trying to make himself look bigger. As it stands, there is absolutely no way they're getting past him, nor are they getting the badge off of him today.

Jimmy seems to realise this too, taking a step back, away from the door, holding his hands up in a placating manner. The same placating manner that he’s used on several criminals that look like they're either about to bolt or make a very poor decision; it’s something that has been used on Tango several times, and has only ever made him want to make that very poor choice even more every single time.

fWhip apparently has the same mindset, because he makes a low noise in the back of his throat, before slamming the door.

The sound of it slamming echoes around the whole cavern, and when Tango looks, several more goblins are now watching the ending of the altercation. Jimmy stares at the door for a moment longer, before he sighs, shoulders slumping, and turns away.

“Could have gone worse.” He tries.

“Yeah,” Jimmy laughs, “he could have actually attacked me, I guess, or something worse than that. I just…didn't think it would go that badly, you know?”

“I get what you mean,” he pats Jimmy on the shoulder as they make their slow way back towards the cavern entrance. The goblins mostly pretend as though they do not exist now, moving through their streets as quickly as possible. “You didn't think he hated you that much, hm?”

“I guess so,” Jimmy sighs, and it sounds so sad, that Tango can't resist pulling him into an awkward side-hug, both of them continuing to walk. Jimmy has to hunch over a little so Tango can actually keep his arm around Jimmy’s shoulders, but it works. Mostly. “I thought he might consider me at least somewhat of a friend still, not just outright hatred.”

“It’ll get better, I'm sure.” He reassures, patting Jimmy’s shoulder. “It just needs time. Everything gets better with time.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy sounds a little bit more like himself now, wobbling only because of the swaying of the bridge beneath their feet. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Besides,” he bounds along until he’s on solid ground once more, grinning back at Jimmy. “If he continues to ignore you I'm sure you’ll just annoy him into liking you.

“Yeah,” Jimmy nods, obviously not hearing what he said. His head snaps up a moment later. “Hey! Wait! You can't just-”

Tango laughs, ducking beneath Jimmy’s outstretched arm and sprinting out into the sunlight.

--- --- ---

IV.

Elytras…are odd. No matter how many times he uses one, he never quite gets used to the sudden feeling of weightlessness that encompasses his entire being. He will also never get over the unnaturalness of having nothing in contact with the ground. Being suspended in the air by nothing more than a flimsy bit of fabric is enough to send his heart racing.

His feet are quiet as they touch down against the very edge of the floating island. He almost expects it to tip towards him as he lands, spreading his weight a little more evenly to overcompensate in preparation. But the island doesn't tilt, remaining as solid as though it were connected to the ground far, far below him.

Jimmy lands beside him, decidedly less graceful than Tango’s own landing. Jimmy stumbles as he lands, hooves clopping against the quartz as he skids to a halt, elytra flaring out behind him. He reaches out a hand to steady Jimmy, catching him before he can topple over backwards and off the island. It would certainly be a way to kick off their diplomatic mission. Possibly not the effect Jimmy is going for, though.

“Thanks.” Jimmy breathes, straightening up, tugging at the corners of his elytra to make it lie completely flat against his back. His own elytra trails on the ground behind him, rather like he’s just wrapped a blanket around his shoulders in a mockery of a cape.

“Not a problem.” He allows his hand to slip away with a final squeeze. “Can't have you as a pancake on the ground before we do this, right?”

“Right.” Jimmy frowns. “I’d catch myself before I ended up as a pancake though, you know that right.”

Tango hums, not swinging either way in the decision department. Jimmy waits a moment longer, before heaving another sigh and beginning to walk away. Tango hurries to catch up with him, the elytra dragging at his shoulders, fluttering just above the ground as he jogs to catch up with Jimmy.

“Sunshine, you know I mean that in the most loving way. You're lovely, and amazing, a great Sheriff, you know? But your coordination can be really wonky,” he grins, still walking a little faster to keep up with Jimmy’s longer strides. “You know like the…oh! You know the other week when there was that creeper, and you didn't see it, and you were holding an armful of baby creepers- which is why you didn't see it, and then you just,” he throws his arms out. “All over the floor!”

“I remember.” Jimmy says, cheeks flushing a little.

“Aw, don't look like that.” Tango nudges his own shoulder against Jimmy’s. “I thought it was cute.”

“You were probably the only one.”

“I'm sure it would have been funny to watch!” A new voice joins their conversation, both of them pausing mid-step. He watches Jimmy tense up, shoulders stiffening and jaw tensing, before he forcefully relaxes himself and turns to face their new companion.

“Joel!” He greets, cheery smile and forced cheer in his voice a complete one-eighty from the resignation from moments prior. Tango turns to face the god as well, not bothering with the smile his partner gives Joel.

“Sheriff.” Joel greets, far more politely than usual. There’s movement by his leg, a head peeking out from behind him, hands grabbing around his leg, before ducking out of sight once more. Likely the reason for Joel’s sudden politeness, then. “You said you wanted to speak with me?”

The child - Hermes, he reminds himself - peers out from around Joel’s leg again, his eyes widening as he finds Tango looking at him. Rather than ducking out of sight once more, hiding behind his father’s leg, he instead tugs at Joel’s toga, demanding his attention.

“One moment,” Joel says, patting Hermes on the head. “And you just want a…peace negotiation?” He sounds a little confused, as though them approaching their most antagonistic neighbour with a treaty for peace between their empires is something unimaginable.

“Just a peace negotiation.” Jimmy confirms. “The terms must be agreed upon by both sides, and there must be room for debate upon these terms.” Jimmy crosses his arms. “You can't just say something and have it immediately put into the agreement as law.”

“Aw, damn,” Joel shakes his head. “And here I thought I would be able to add a clause excusing murder.”

Hermes tugs on his father’s toga again, a little more forcefully this time, pulling hard enough that the fabric begins to rip. Huh. Remind him not to underestimate a child’s strength again, especially not when said-child is a dubiously created child of a god. Joel crouches down to Hermes’ level, leaning a little closer as Hermes grabs onto his face, pulling his ear towards his mouth.

Joel winces as Hermes tugs at his beard, but listens as the child whispers something to him, eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns to look at Hermes, whispering something back. He strains his ears to hear what the god says. “I don't know, you're gonna have to ask him.” And Joel nods towards him. Him. Not Jimmy- him.

Hermes glances at him nervously, looking back to Joel, as though seeking permission. Joel simply nods, before glaring at him over Hermes’ head when the child turns to look back at him. The line drawn over his throat is a little excessive, but he gets the gist of it.

“Do you want to move these discussions elsewhere?” Jimmy asks, looking between him, Hermes, and Joel. “Somewhere a little more private?”

“There’s no one but us up here,” Joel says. “The citizens below can hardly reach this wonderful abode, as much as it pains me for my work to go unrecognised.”

“Everyone is aware that this is yours.” Tango says. His tail flicks back and forth over the ground, almost getting tangled up in the elytra before he flicks it back again. “I don't think anyone comes across a massive floating structure and just goes, huh, wonder who this belongs to.”

“The sarcasm is unnecessary, Red.”

“Again,” Jimmy interrupts, “negotiations? Anywhere specific you want to do them?”

“Here’s fine.” Joel gestures around them, his sweeping arm encapsulating the rather empty island, only a small patch of grass sprouting from this particular one. He gets the feeling that this one might still be under construction- both from the lacking details, and the fact that it doesn't lead to anywhere. “Hermes probably doesn't want to sit inside, anyway.”

“Can't you just leave him out here?” Jimmy asks. He follows Joel towards the patch of grass anywhere, pulling a roll of paper from his bag as he walks, quickly followed by a quill and pot of ink.

“Ah, yes,” Joel says, deadpan. “Let me just leave the adventurous, uncoordinated child unsupervised on my floating island, hundreds of feet above the ground. Surely nothing can go wrong.”

Tango snickers a little to himself, pretending not to notice the way Hermes is currently staring at him, eyes watching his tail flick back and forth. He sweeps it across the ground, curling around his ankle, before sweeping back around to the other side. Hermes fingers twitch a little, eyes almost shining as he looks between Tango’s tail and his face, then back again.

He flicks the tip of his tail, watching as Hermes almost manages to resist the urge, then fails, leaping forward to try and catch it between his hands. He sweeps it out of range, wary of the strength that a small god-child might be able to put behind that, all too aware of how painful a broken tail can be- and also how finicky it can be when healing.

He peers down at Hermes, finding the child peering back up at him. He glances over at where Jimmy and Joel are already deep in discussion, both of them hunched over the scroll of paper, Jimmy occasionally scribbling a small addition down, or crossing something out.

He crouches down beside Hermes, watching him. Hermes watches him back.

“Hello,” he says, unsure of what else to do. He doesn't talk to children. How do you even interact with children? He’s not even sure how old Hermes is- can he even understand Common yet? Or does he speak some other, ancient language that only Joel knows the translation of.

“Hello.” Hermes whispers back, eyes wide and round, looking almost scared. “My dad said I'm allowed to talk to you now. Because you're not in a cage anymore.” Hermes stares up at him. “Why were you in a cage before, Mr. Kitty-Cat?”

“Uh,” why are children so blunt? Is this a normal child behaviour, or has Joel simply forgotten to teach him manners, or not gotten around to it yet? But he also can't imagine Sausage not teaching his child manners, that man is one of the most polite people he knows. “We had a small disagreement, but we’re all good now.” He hopes. He chances a glance over at the talking pair, praying that neither of them are currently watching him. Some god must be looking down on him at that very moment, because they're both still involved in their discussion, paying no attention to him.

“Are you friends?” Hermes’ eyes are still impossibly wide.

“Uhm.” He wouldn't describe him and Joel as friends. Not in a million years. Maybe something closer to people that won't kill each other at the first sign of hostility, but nothing like friends. “We know each other.” He settles on. Vague enough that it doesn't actually say anything.

“Why?” Hermes asks.

“Because we work together on business sometimes.” Not exactly a lie.

“Why?”

“We have a creeper ranch where I live, me and him run it,” he points at Jimmy, “and your, uh, dad buys the gunpowder off of us for various items.”

“Oh.” Hermes seems to consider this. “Why do you have creepers? Why not something better, like…cats!”

“Jimmy knows how to do creeper farming, he’s done it for a long, long time. So when I came and started working with him, we just kept doing that.”

“Doesn't he get bored of doing the same thing?”

“Not really. I think he likes the sameness of it,” Tango muses. He watches as Jimmy reaches out to shove Joel away from the paper, leaping to his feet a moment later and clutching it to his chest, shouting without words as Joel makes a lunge for the paper. All he succeeds in doing is knocking the ink bottle over, spilling it over his toga.

Hermes giggles next to him, pressing a hand over his face. It’s so incredibly endearing that Tango is taken completely by surprise, overwhelmed with the urge, for the first time ever, to steal a child. “Adults are silly.” Hermes laughs, watching his father and Jimmy squabble over who tore the paper in the very corner - something that affects nothing about the final product.

“Sometimes.” He agrees, watching as Jimmy trips over his own feet as he tries to escape Joel once more, allowing Joel to seize the paper from him with a triumphant cheer. It is nothing like the enemies of a few weeks ago, ones that were almost constantly at each other’s throats. It’s certainly an interesting turn of events, but he’s also learned not to question things when Jimmy’s involved.

“Is Jimmy old?”

He’s not sure whether it’s possible to experience whiplash from something a small child says (and whether the shock of some things children come up with fade after time), but he certainly feels like it, snapping his head around to stare at Hermes.

“No?”

“Oh.” Hermes frowns. “But you said he’d been doing…creeper something for a long time!”

“He’s not old.”

“My dad’s super old,” Hermes says, with a big grin. “He’s super duper old, older than everything here. He’s a bunch older than my papa, which means that he’s a lot smarter than him too.”

“Not sure that’s how it works.”

“Totally is! My dad said so!”

“Exactly,” Tango glances up, finding Joel stood just behind Hermes. Jimmy grins at him from beside Joel, roll of paper clutched tightly in his hands. The tips of his fingers are stained with ink, some of it bleeding onto the paper already. “I'm the oldest here, meaning I'm the smartest.”

“I find that highly doubtful.”

“You don't need to think about it,” Joel pats him on the shoulder, only a little awkwardness behind the gesture. “Treaty’s been signed, meaning you two can run on your merry way.”

Tango can take a hint when he’s given one, as can Jimmy, both of them immediately backing towards the edge of the island, preparing for take-off and the short flight back to Tumble Town. Tango simply hopes that the wind currents are a little kinder to him on the return journey than they were on the way here.

“Buh-bye Mr. Kitty-Cat!” Hermes calls, and he turns back to wave at Hermes.

Jimmy snorts. “Softie.”

“As if.”

--- --- ---

V.

The tavern is loud. And incredibly busy too, busy enough for him to get lost amongst the people and pretend that Scott isn't watching him like a hawk from behind the counter. Why the man would choose tonight of all nights to man the bar is beyond him.

Does Scott just not trust him? He had been the one to come to Jimmy with concerns of underground dealings happening in his bar. What he hadn't said to Jimmy was that his concern wasn't with the underground dealings happening here, it was simply a concern of the underground dealings that weren't happening under his jurisdiction.

He gets, at least a little bit, why Scott would be so peeved about people doing such a thing. They hardly buy more than one round and Scott doesn't even get a cut of the profits from the deal going through; it’s hardly a profitable business exploit, and so, obviously, as someone that used to work rather closely with Scott he understands the other man’s frustration.

But he also would have preferred to have been kept out of this one. He can see several of his old contacts scattered around the tavern, several of which have been busted in recent months…partially due to some of his intel making it to the law department’s in their local area, but it might also be because some of their hiding spots were really shoddy.

One of them makes direct eye contact with him, eyes widening, then narrowing again as they slam their drink down to the table. Thankfully, the disturbance goes mostly unnoticed amongst the din of the tavern, as such only their companions at the table turn to ask them what’s wrong. Unfortunately, for him, several of their companions are also people he’s worked with recently. He attempts to slink away, back towards the bar, before any more of them can turn and spot him. He’s all for a good bar fight every now and then, a good one keeps the blood pumping, keeps the heart healthy, all that good stuff. But he’d also rather not get kicked out halfway through one of his first solo jobs and have to explain to Jimmy exactly why he got kicked out.

He glances back at Scott, the man still cleaning the same glass he was earlier. He’ll wear away the design at this rate if he continues polishing the same glass the entire time Tango’s here. He grins at him, a rather sheepish smile that begs for help. Scott makes direct eye contact with him, pausing his polishing, to look over at the group of patrons that are currently communicating their intent to kill through expression alone. He then looks back at Tango, before turning his back and placing the glass on one of the top shelves.

He hears several chairs scrape back at once, setting off alarm bells in his head as he looks around for potential hiding spots. Beneath a table is far too obvious, and simply diving for the closest one risks him running into another past client and/or ally that he may or may not have recently ratted out.

Several other patrons have also taken note of the clear unrest, eyeing up the patrons moving towards him, and him. He’s not sure whether they're making bets on who’s going to win, but he definitely does see some money exchange hands. So, no one’s going to be any help with that.

He glances back at Scott again, panic beginning to set in. Sure, a bar fight is healthy and all that, but he really doesn't fancy one tonight actually, maybe they can reschedule this for another day when he actually has his gauntlets on him? He glances back at the group, finding them a little too close for comfort, decides they cannot be reasoned with, and makes a dash for his best hiding spot that isn't really a hiding spot anymore.

He slips between two patrons, moving between the small gap between them, and takes a running leap over the counter of the bar, dropping to the floor as quickly as he can. He inhales sharply, and then presses a hand over his mouth, only daring to breathe through his nose, pressing his back as close to the counter as he can.

He didn't hit any glasses on his way over, which is far more successful than the first few times he used this hiding spot. The first time he jumped the bar on a whim while Scott had been working, he’d swept a whole row of glasses off the counter with his tail, sending them crashing to the floor behind him. Positive: the people pursuing him didn't want to get any closer and step on the glass, which, great! Negative: Scott made him pay for the glasses, and also lectured him, and also made him stay after the bar’s closing (which is never) and clean up the broken glass. Which, less great.

He perfected the technique, eventually, though diving behind the bar was infinitely nicer when it was Owen manning it rather than Scott. Mostly because Owen didn't give a shit and would only rat him out if he tried to steal more than three bottles of the expensive stuff. And even then he might think twice about it if Tango offered him a shot.

Scott doesn't even flinch, finishing arranging the glasses on the shelf, turning around. His acting skills are unmatched as always too, acting incredibly surprised to see several people clustered at the bar, obviously waiting for him.

“Good evening gentlemen,” Scott greets, leaning on the counter to speak to them. “Was there anything I could do for you?”

“You know exactly what it is we want from you.” The leader growls out. Ouch, so hostile, as always. He remembers working with this man, he had been rather unpleasant, the two of them butting heads at every turn of the job, despite it clearly being Tango’s area of expertise rather than his. Still, the man had insisted on doing it his way, even when it almost jeopardised the whole job. He’d made a mental note after that to steer clear of the man, and obviously, he jumped at being given the chance to rat him out.

“Do I?” He looks up, watches as Scott screws his face up, scrunching his eyebrows together as he thinks.

“Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Seeing if I’d suddenly gained psychic powers.” Scott replies, face slackening again. “‘Fraid not, you're gonna have to tell me with your big boy words what it is you want, else you can get lost.”

“We want the rat hiding out in your bar.” Ouch! Rat. Well, that’s certainly a new one, though it’s not exactly the most creative insult he’s had hurled his way. He adds it to the list, right alongside kitty-cat. Personally, that’s still his favourite.

“Rat?” Scott tilts his head to the side, nudging his knee against Tango’s chest as he steps a little closer to the bar counter, shoving him back a little further. He gets the message, grumbling and making himself a little smaller, tucking his tail in a little further. “I don't have any rats here, in fact, if you check the health registration out front, you’ll find that we scored quite high, actually. I'm offended, really, that you’d come into my tavern and then accuse me of having poor health standards, tell me, did your mother not teach you any manners?”

“My mother is a perfectly respectable woman!”

“Uh-huh,” Scott nods along, in a similar way one would nod along with a child when they got something right. “I'm sure she did, that’s certainly why her son’s whiling away his hours in a tavern and accusing the owner of having poor health standards.” Scott clicks his tongue. “The gall of some people.”

“I meant no offence, I swear.”

“Sure you didn't. Out.” Scott jerks his head towards the door, staring at the group clustered around his counter. “C’mon! Chop-chop! Haven't got all night, I have paying customers waiting behind you, now scram!”

There’s a little more muttering, but he hears receding footsteps anyway, the sound of the tavern door squeaking on its hinges - every time he asks about it Scott says he’s about to get it fixed, but he never does - as they file out. He presses his hand a little further over his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, pressing himself a little further beneath the counter as Scott begins to serve the next patron.

Several bottles press into his back as he leans a little further back, and he twists to peer at the labels, twisting a few of them around to get a better look.

“Don't even think about it, Red.” Scott growls out, then smiles a moment later as he accepts a handful of coins from someone, the gold clinking against each other as he counts through it, then hands their change back. “I can see you.”

“Can you?” He turns another bottle around, admiring the gold detailing on the label. The leaves on the design give it away as a Sanctuary wine. He quite likes the selection of Sanctuary wines Scott keeps, though very few actually ever buy a bottle due to the extravagant price Scott charges for them. They have a rather pleasant aftertaste, and are strong enough that you need very little to get pleasantly tipsy. “From what I heard, there’s no rat behind your bar.”

He grins up at Scott, watching as the man rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.

“The next person to come looking for rats here is getting throttled, I swear.”

“So you do have a rat problem?” He asks, shifting away as Scott aims a kick at his ribs. “What! I'm just asking!”

“Shut up.” Scott glances up. “Oh, sorry dear, not you. What can I get for you?” Tango snickers behind his hand, as quietly as he possibly can, but Scott manages to hear it anyway, his ridiculously long ears twitching. His leg twitches next, shooting out to kick at his tail.

He yelps, hugging it a little closer, glaring up at Scott.

“Thank you so much.” Scott smiles, waiting until the customer smiles to let his customer service facade drop.

“Your customer service voice is stupid.”

“You huddling behind my bar every time you start a fight you don't want to finish is stupid.” Scott retorts.

“Starting a bar fight on-duty isn't really a good look for me.” He slumps down a little further, turning a wine bottle over in his hands, searching for the date of it. Has Jimmy ever had any traditional Chromia moonshine? He doubts it, he doubts he even knows Scott sells something with such a high alcohol content.

“Don't even think about it.” Scott tugs the bottle from his hands, setting it further down the bar, far out of reach of him. “You take that back to your boyfriend and suddenly the Sheriff’s gonna be in here with a warrant to check the alcohol content of all my drinks.”

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “He’d get so drunk off of that he wouldn't even remember to check the alcohol content.”

“Not risking it, Red.” Scott nudges at him again, far gentler than any of the previous kicks aimed at him. “You should probably start thinking about heading back to him, anyway, it’s long past that guy’s usual time to show up.”

“Damn.” He stands from the floor, grabbing Scott’s coat to haul himself up, resting his forearms on the bar counter as he looks around the tavern. “Well, that certainly is annoying.”

“As annoying as it is for you as it is for me, buddy.” Scott pats him on the back. “Now out, I don't want my regulars thinking you get some kinda special treatment.”

“You telling me you treat all your regulars like me?” He presses a hand to his chest, hurt.

“You have a boyfriend, Red.” Scott pushes at him again. “Scurry on back to him.”

“Why, jealous?” He teases. Scott holds his cloth up threateningly, lining up to throw it at him. He ducks his head, retreating hastily, shouting a hurried apology behind him as he disappears out the door.

--- --- ---

VI.

Tango squints at Jimmy, at the way his face is bathed by the flickering hues of orange and gold, reflecting in his eyes as he continues to stare at the fire. A few sparks spit out of it, landing on the ground a few feet from where they're sat, sharing a short log that leaves them pressed incredibly close, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

The sounds of everyone around them fades into a buzz that his ears barely registers, fading into white noise- background noise that is easily dismissed and ignored. Ignored in favour of something far more important.

Jimmy’s eyes seem to glow in the light of the fire, lips slightly parted as he continues to stare into the depths of the flames. It definitely can't be good for him to stare into the flames for so long and with such intensity, but Tango certainly isn't going to be the one that breaks his apparent captivation with the flames.

Someone tosses another log onto the fire, and it spits, flames already curling around the wood and beginning to devour it, bark blackening and smoke curling from wood that was probably still a little bit damp. It crackles as it settles deeper within the fire, and Tango is incredibly tempted to stick his hand into the flames, just to see how everyone else reacts. Everyone is more than a little tipsy, toeing the line between tipsy and drunk, just enough to be comfortably warm away from the fire and in the cool air of the evening.

Still, nothing quite compares to watching Jimmy. It’s become a new habit of Tango’s- okay. Maybe not quite a new habit, but certainly one that he’s found more time to indulge in as of recently. Before, he could only ever indulge himself in small glimpses of the man’s face, snatches of him as he escapes from his clutches time after time, escaping by just a hair that left him breathless and veins thrumming with adrenaline. The only times he got to look at Jimmy for a little longer were during his capture, but even during those brief moments of respite he had been planning his next jailbreak, the exact way he would be able to escape without causing too much property damage.

(He realised, after the first time escaping from one of the cell’s in Tumble Town, and after his subsequent second capture, that the place didn't have the resources to constantly be repairing the bars and locks he melted in order to escape. So he had to begin coming up with new and improved ways of escaping each time, otherwise Jimmy might have been a little more annoyed with him when he was next caught.)

So, he allows himself to indulge in the way the flames cast his face perfectly in the shadows. Allows himself to watch the way Jimmy’s eyelashes brush against his cheeks as he blinks, still utterly enraptured with the fire in front of him.

His hat is tipped back from his forehead, bordering on the edge of falling off, barely holding on. His hands itch as he reaches one out, fingers twitching, before he pulls it back again, watching Jimmy for any reaction. He gives none, only blinking once more, fingers slowly loosening around his drink as the fire continues to absorb all of his attention.

“Just take it.” He jumps at the sudden appearance of Alyssa beside him, the deputy leaning against his shoulder. She sways a little, hair falling over her shoulder in a cascade of black. “He won't mind.”

“You're joking, right?” He laughs, mostly to himself rather than at anything funny. “You've seen the way he almost throttled Pixl for touching it- Pixl! Everyone likes Pixl!”

“Yeah, but Pixl’s not you.” Alyssa winks at him, before deciding her job is apparently done, straightening up and swaying away. It leaves him with several thoughts running rampant through his mind, eyes now fixed on the hat this close to tipping off of Jimmy’s head.

He shouldn't be stealing anymore, he really shouldn't. But is it actually stealing if he takes it with the intent of giving it back? Only one way to find out, he supposes.

He gives into the itch in his fingers, scooting a little closer, hands stretching out, fingers brushing over the brim of Jimmy’s hat. He doesn't appear to notice, giving Tango a little more courage. He curls his fingers around the brim of Jimmy’s hat, a firmer grip allowing him to tug it away from his head, springing up from his seat a moment later, his prize clutched in his hands.

The loss of his hat seems to be enough to pull Jimmy from his fire-induced haze, because he whirls around with a wordless shout, lurching to his feet as he turns to face Tango.

He grins at Jimmy, watching as he relaxes a little upon seeing who it is that stole his hat. Who, exactly, it is that is currently clutching said hat in his claws.

“Tango,” Jimmy says, probably far more of a whine than he intended it to be, cheeks colouring a moment later. “C’mon, give it back.”

“What am I going to get in return?” He teases at the edge of the hat, watching Jimmy from beneath his eyelashes. He steps back when Jimmy steps closer, stepping over the log they had both been sat on a moment before. The material of the hat is worn softer around the edges at the front, no doubt from Jimmy’s habit of running his fingers over it when he gets stressed, or when he’s thinking about something, or- when he’s doing anything, really.

“I don't know,” Jimmy sighs. “A thank you?”

“Not good enough.” He dances back another step, tail brushing over the ground, voice sing-song. “Come on, sunshine, you're gonna have to strike a better deal than that.”

They have a small crowd of onlookers now, all of which are trying very hard to not look like onlookers but are also failing miserably. One of them snickers as Tango takes another step back.

“A kiss?” Jimmy offers.

“Hm,” he hums, considering it, twirling the hat in his hands. He gives into the urge and places it on his head, pushing it down a little until it pushes his hair down too, causing it to tickle the skin above his eyebrows. “I might be convinced by your offer.”

Jimmy stares at him for a moment longer.

“So?” Tango prods. “Are you going to make good on that offer, or are you going to stand there for the rest of the evening?” He smirks, watching as Jimmy straightens up

Jimmy crosses the short distance between them easily, pulling him close until they're flush, chest to chest. Tango continues grinning, tipping his head back a little to look up at Jimmy. His teeth catch on the edge of his lip, hands snaking around Jimmy’s waist to pull him even closer. He can feel Jimmy’s breath on his face, hot where the night air around them is cold.

His lips are even warmer, soft as they press against his. And then he’s pulling back, and the extra weight is gone from Tango’s head as Jimmy resettles his hat back on his head. Someone in their crowd of onlookers gives a small whoop, someone that sounds suspiciously like Alyssa, but when he looks he can't see her in the crowd.

“I thought we were working on breaking that habit of yours.” Jimmy says, smiling as Tango pulls them a little closer, into another kiss.

“I only steal from you, I promise.” He breathes out, pulling back just enough to talk. “You're the only one that’s worth stealing from, anyway.”

“Haven't you stolen enough from me?” Jimmy frowns, mock sadness almost enough to make Tango laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the man in front of him.

“Oh? And what else might I have stolen from you, sunshine?”

“My heart.” Jimmy says, with the most sickening type of grin.

Tango allows himself a moment to make sure his ears are working correctly, and that the alcohol isn't distorting his mind. But, no, Jimmy continues to grin at him in his stupidly endearing way. “Idiot,” he smacks him on the shoulder, “you're making me blush.”

#juno.writes #red bandit au #tango tek #jimmy solidarity #solidaritek #team rancher #ranch duo #trafficshipping #empires smp #empires smp fic #empiressmp #empires jimmy #empires tango #empires scott #empires pixl #empires fwhip #empires gem #empires joel #empires smp s2 #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming #tangotek

[skepticalfrogcat]

This fic is Part 2 to this fic, which I do recommend reading first but it isn't REALLY necessary. Just be prepared to be a little confused about a couple of minor details if you don't feel like reading a whole other oneshot first.

(This is dedicated to @lovehugsandcandy who gave me the motivation to write this, this is a gift for both of us)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Nothing major, except some very minor and very brief violence and the fact that this fic doesn't have a particularly happy ending.

Word Count: 4,297

Summary: Following Finch's discussion with Nia, he makes a difficult decision with some painful consequences.

~~~

In the days that followed, Finch found himself with a lot to think about. He thought he did a rather good job of hiding it, and of course he tried not to think of the particularly difficult things much at all. But every so often - perhaps as Mal cracked a joke over a round at the tavern, or Kade went on about some new book he'd read - Finch would catch Nia giving him very pensive looks. He wished she wouldn't. Not only because it felt at times like her hazel eyes were boring into the back of his head, but also because his worst fear was that someone would notice and ask him why.

He wasn't prepared to divulge any of the secrets of the night Nia had visited him, and - thank the Gods - Nia didn't seem to be either. As far as he knew, she had kept her promise to him. He hadn't expected anything different, she was probably the last person he'd expect to ever break a promise. He'd kept his promise to her, too. Most of what he'd been thinking about lately, aside from other, less shareable thoughts, had been what he was going to do next.

It was nearly impossible to decide. At least out of all of the hard things he'd done while he and his friends were searching for the onyx shards, he hadn't had to make very many decisions himself. The quest probably would've gone much worse if he had. In this situation, though, it did seem like the best choice to rip off the bandage. He'd deliberated on it for a while, but at the moment it really just seemed like letting his thoughts and feelings lie would only be torturous for him. He had to go, or else he'd never be able to move forward. He'd just be haunted by all the ‘what if's and ‘if only's. He just had to get closure.

But he needed to prepare first. If he'd learned anything from - well, from everything, it would be that it was always best to enter a situation knowing as much as you could about what you were getting into. He knew he'd have to ask someone about visiting. However, he also wanted to keep the reasons behind his visit close to his chest. Those two things combined had led to what he'd hoped was a fairly unsuspicious conversation with a soldier who was often stationed nearby the cells.

He'd made some small talk first, mostly about other goings on in the kingdom, because he knew that approaching immediately with the question he wanted to ask would set off alarms. But when he'd started to feel like he'd been there long enough, he had finally gotten to his point.

~~~

“What are the protections like, when someone goes down to visit a prisoner?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in a way he hoped read as casual. “I just know that some of my friends might've been going, and I think it's about time I go for a visit myself. What should I expect?”

“I'm sure we could arrange that for you. We take minimal risks while allowing visitors to the prisoners,” the guard responded. “All visitors are accompanied by a varying number of guards determined by both importance, and how dangerous the prisoner they're visiting is. We don't even let visitors enter the cells most of the time, save for certain circumstances. I'm assuming you're speaking of paying a visit to the traitor prince, meaning you'd likely be given three guards, and you would not be allowed into the cell.”

Finch nodded along, cataloging all of that new information into his brain. He couldn't help thinking that deciding how many guards to give someone based on how important they were was a bit unsavory. It was like ranking people by how much it would matter if they died. Hearing Aerin referred to as the ‘traitor prince’ also put a bad taste in his mouth, even though he knew it was objectively true.

“Along with that, we also ensure that none of our prisoners are in possession of weapons, and we don't allow any visitors to bring weapons into the cells in order to prevent injury.” The guard seemed very pleased with herself as she bragged about the security measures of the prison.

“I don't usually carry my weapons on me anyway, but you wouldn't have to worry about me hurting anyone,” he laughed, finding the idea a bit absurd.

“Oh, no, we're confident that someone like you won't engage in any violent behavior,” the guard clarified. She fiddled with the key ring around her belt as she spoke. “We wouldn't allow you to carry any weapons because we want to make sure he won't hurt you. But you don't have to worry about that, since you won't have to go into the cell.”

Suddenly, any ounce of humor left the situation. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Aerin might try to hurt him while he was there. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed like an oversight on his part. But the fact that his mind hadn't even registered the idea of it brought back that all-too-familiar shame.

“That sounds reasonable,” he smiled politely, putting on a pleasant facade even when he wanted nothing more than to shake the guard in front of him and tell her she knew nothing about Aerin. “I'll let you know when I decide to go, then. I haven't settled on a time yet.”

“Alright. Have a nice afternoon, Hero of Whitetower. I'll be looking forward to your return.”

~~~

That conversation had happened three days ago, but Finch hadn't gone back to meet with that soldier. Something about the whole procedure of it hadn't felt right to him. It was much more strict than he'd anticipated, although he supposed it made sense when it came to visiting a prison cell. Still, he knew that having so many guards with him would prevent him from having the conversation he wanted to have. He couldn't be accompanied.

Now, he was leaving his room in the dead of night to go do something he absolutely shouldn't have been doing. He shut his door carefully behind him, not wanting to alert anyone of what he was doing. The only reason he was going at night was because he knew there wouldn't be quite so many people wandering the halls of the castle. He didn't want to have to explain his way past dozens of guards. If he went at night, he'd only have to sneak his way past a few of them. He'd even dressed himself in dark colors to make it easier to merge with the shadows.

The journey to the dungeon was rather short, and he didn't run into any obstacles aside from a few sleep deprived guards taking the night shift as he got close to the entrance. It seemed as though the majority of the prisoners they had in the cells weren't considered particularly ‘high-value’, so they weren't as concerned about guarding them. There was only a single guard stationed by one of the cells in the long block. It wasn't difficult to determine who that cell belonged to.

Before his conscience (and arguably his common sense) could get a hold of him, he began inching his way further into the hall. Finch silently thanked Mal for sharing his wisdom as he neared the guard, still unnoticed. Then, like a snake lashing out for a bite, he caught the guard in a chokehold and placed a hand firmly over their mouth so they couldn't call out and alert the other guards. He applied even pressure until he felt the guard slump in his arms. As he placed the guard's limp body on the ground, it caught up to him that he was doing all of this just to see Aerin on his own terms. That was a troublesome thought to have. But before he could dwell on it, a quiet voice interrupted him.

“Who's there?” Finch's heart jumped into his throat. He would've known that voice anywhere. Memories crashed into his brain like a brick wall. Memories of the Deadwood, and drakna, and sitting by a lake. Of a wicked sword, and a killing blow, and a near escape. But, most prominently, of dark hair, and bright, curious eyes, and lips on his that he so desperately wanted to forget.

“I know someone's there, I heard you,” Aerin continued after what must've been at least a minute of silence.

After a moment more, Finch responded. “You weren't supposed to.���

Another stretch of silence followed. He imagined Aerin was going through something very similar to what he just had. Or perhaps he simply hoped so. “...Finch?”

Finally, Finch stepped in front of the door, looking in through the small, barred window. He pulled back the hood he'd been concealing his face with. “I wasn't going to come,” he admitted into the darkness. He couldn't see Aerin through the shadows of the cell. That made it easier, in a way. “But I was told that I should.”

“So that's it, then?” Aerin questioned, as if he was expecting more. Maybe he had the right to. “You chose to come here in the dead of night, completely unaccompanied by guards, just because someone told you to? That doesn't sound like something you would do.”

“I guess neither of us have really been acting like ourselves, then,” Finch pointed out. He heard Aerin laugh, and had to close his eyes in order to process the swell of overlapping emotions that came with it.

“You sound really sure about that. Sure that you know what it means for me to be ‘acting like myself’, I mean.” That reminder was a harsh blow. There was the Aerin he'd met in the Deadwood and the Aerin who had killed his brother in cold blood and kidnapped Nia, and Finch didn't know which Aerin was the real one. It very well could've been this one. It probably was. “Still, I don't believe someone telling you to is the only reason why you came here.”

“And what makes you think you know me well enough to decide that for me?”

“Because if I were out there and you were in here, I know why I'd be coming to see you,” Aerin answered matter-of-factly. “Now, are you going to stay out there, or are you going to come in so we can actually talk?”

That gave Finch pause. He glanced to his left, at the still unconscious guard. They had a key ring on their belt, much like the other guard Finch had spoken to. He could only assume Aerin knew the keys were there. But Finch hadn't planned on entering the cell at all, his plan had always been to stay on the other side of the door, to get it over with quickly. He wasn't as sure of that now. It was a risk, he knew that; Nia probably hadn't actually entered the cell, no matter how many times she'd visited. He'd been so sure that Aerin wouldn't hurt him, but how could he be? It wasn't as though Aerin had never done anything unexpected in the past.

But Aerin was right: how were they ever supposed to have a real conversation if they couldn't even see each other? Finch had thought the separation would help things stay impersonal, but that hadn't worked. It still felt personal, it just also felt wrong.

He grabbed the key ring.

He had to try a couple before he found the one that worked, but when he heard the click of the lock opening, he froze. He'd just unlocked the cell door of one of the most valuable prisoners in the dungeon. And now, he was going to go into that cell with him. He closed the door behind him as he stepped inside, as if that would matter. He couldn't lock it again from the inside.

“If you're worried about the lock, don't be,” he heard Aerin say from the other side of the cell. The sound of chain links clinking together followed, and Finch assumed that meant Aerin was shackled to something. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. “I wouldn't leave now, even if I could.”

Finch turned and took a couple more careful steps into the room. As he came closer, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, Aerin's face became clearer. He looked just as Finch remembered him. Not as he first remembered him, though, no; as he'd looked when they'd last seen each other. Aerin's skin still had that pallid gray tone, and if Finch looked closely he could see the dark black veins creeping across it. His eyes were still clouded with black, too, and they were narrowed as though he was putting Finch through exactly the same examination. He didn't look quite as regal as he had the last time Finch had seen him, though. Maybe because he was in much simpler clothes, or because he was chained to the floor by his ankle. Probably both. He was sitting on a wooden slab that had been attached to the wall like a bench, which only looked marginally more comfortable than the stone floor.

“You haven't changed much, have you,” Aerin noted, a smirk crossing his face.

“Neither have you.” Finch stood a few feet away from him, not because he was afraid of Aerin per se, but because he was afraid of what getting closer would do to him.

“You're allowed to get comfortable, you know. I'm not going to bite you,” Aerin shifted the way he was sitting, leaving enough room on the wooden seat for Finch to sit down beside him. Finch remained standing. “Alright then, if you're dedicating yourself to that, I can't stop you.” He paused, glancing away for a moment, before looking back up at Finch. “Who told you to come?”

“Nia did. She said she's been coming, and she thought it would be best if I did too,” Finch explained, feeling like that was enough information for the time being. Nia's words still rattled around in his head, though: He has been asking about you. Finch wasn't going to mention that. It would've only made things more complicated.

Aerin rolled his eyes. “Of course she did. Probably another effort to ‘purify’ me. I have no idea why she thought sending you would work, though.” His eyes narrowed. “But the real question is, why did you listen to her? When she told you to visit me.”

“I believed her, I thought it was a good idea,” Finch shrugged, averting his eyes. He was lying through his teeth, of course, but that was neither here nor there.

“Come on.” Aerin didn't seem amused by that answer. He stood up and stepped as close to Finch as he could, which was still decently far away, but it was close enough for him to press his thumb against the side of Finch's chin until his gaze was directed back towards him. Finch gently pushed his hand away. “You were nowhere near that into the Light the last time I saw you, and the last time I saw you, you were actively wielding a massive Light sword. Do you remember that?” He asked, an unmistakable teasing tone in his voice.

“Yes, I do remember that. And I'm sure you remember why I was doing it.”

“I do. So give me the real reason.” Now that Aerin was standing, they were eye level with each other, and Finch found himself unable to look away. Even with that darkness in them, his eyes still held something that could capture Finch's attention in an instant. “And I'll know if you're lying.”

Finch sensed a running theme of people being able to read him like a book, or at least claiming they could. He floundered for something to say. “I can't tell you,” he landed on, knowing that was probably the worst thing he could've said.

“Great,” Aerin sighed, dragging an exasperated hand over his face. “Why?”

“It would be… counterproductive,” Finch attempted to explain.

Aerin's brow furrowed. “What, so telling me why you decided to come would ruin whatever plan you have for how this should go?”

Finch clenched his hands into fists, then stretched his fingers all the way out. “I know it's confusing, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“Ironic choice of words given that you'd probably refuse to trust me, if I asked you to,” Aerin crossed his arms.

“I have a good reason for not trusting you,” Finch reminded him.

“Which is why I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm just asking you to be honest with me. It isn't like I have anyone to reveal your dark secrets to anyway.” Aerin gestured around himself, to the dark empty cell.

Finch looked at the ceiling, then at the ground. After Aerin had betrayed them, Finch had lost all of the faith he had that any of their relationship had been real. Well… almost all of it. But he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just another case of manipulation. If he told Aerin why he'd really visited, would that information just be used against him? It could easily be the basis to accuse him of treason, of an allegiance to the traitor. And whether or not he was actually charged, his reputation would certainly be tarnished.

When he looked at Aerin, though, even he had a hard time believing that. He would understand, wouldn't he? They'd be done with this night, go their separate ways, never have to worry about each other again. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Telling Aerin that might make it easier. He just had to be clear about what he needed.

“Fine.” Finch took a deep breath. He needed a moment to think of the best way to word what he was about to say. “I haven't been sleeping lately. And I realized that the reason why that's been happening is because I have a lot of unresolved feelings… about you. But I don't want to, and- and I know that I have to get over all of that. So I came here to see you, and I'm hoping that maybe in doing all of this, I can finally get some closure. Then we won't ever have to see each other again.”

As he'd been speaking, Aerin had gotten closer to him. But, wait, that wasn't possible. No, he’d been the one to move in. Unconsciously, sure, but he'd still done it. The fact that he hadn't even noticed was arguably worse. But Aerin didn't look like he found it humorous, as a part of Finch had expected. He didn't look angry either, or upset, or happy, or even all that surprised. He just looked confused.

“I told you not to lie,” Aerin warned, a slight edge to his voice that Finch couldn't identify.

“Aerin, this has been tearing me up for weeks. If I was lying, someone should've told me.”

“Gods, Finch, you stubborn bastard,” Aerin hissed through gritted teeth. “Of course you let that lie for so long. Why didn't you come sooner?” He reached out and took hold of the front of Finch's shirt, pulling him in closer. Finch could see Aerin searching his eyes for something more, some sort of explanation. “What is it that you're so afraid of?”

Finch didn't respond for a moment, simply keeping his eyes locked on Aerin's as he allowed the words to dig into him. He remembered that speaking with Aerin had always made him feel a bit like he was being studied. He supposed he probably was, in a way. That remained true. Now, though, it was the last straw. He felt something snap inside of him, probably his last thread of sense. He placed his hand on the back of Aerin’s neck and, against all better judgment, he kissed Aerin Valleros.

Everything about it was wrong. He shouldn't have been here, he shouldn't have felt this way, he shouldn't have done this. But then the hand holding his shirt was being used to turn him around until he felt his back hit the wall, and suddenly it was all right. More right than anything had been in weeks, maybe more than anything had been ever.

Finch's hand wove up into Aerin's hair, savoring the feeling of it. He'd missed that more than he could've imagined. One of Aerin’s hands pressed flat against his chest, and the other one wandered upwards to brace itself at the side of his neck just below his jaw. It was then that he noticed how cold Aerin's hands were. His face was colder than it should've been too, come to think of it. That realization snapped Finch out of whatever stupor he'd been in.

“Wait, wait,” he muttered, turning his head away from Aerin. 

“What?” Aerin wore a puzzled expression on his face.

“I… I shouldn't be doing this.” Finch stepped to the side and then back into the center of the room. He began pacing back and forth in a line. “Oh Gods, what have I done? I knew I shouldn't have come, why did I ever…” He trailed off into a groan of frustration. He'd just made a massively irreparable mistake. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if that would make the whole situation go away.

“Finch, it isn't that bad,” Aerin tried to convince him. He sounded like he believed it, too, which Finch could only imagine for himself. “At least I'd hope you didn't think it was.”

“It wasn't bad, it-” Finch took a deep breath in. “It wasn't bad, but this is bad. As in, no one can know I did that. No one should know I was even here, really.”

“So that was your closure, then?” Aerin's words had a bite to them that Finch wished didn't cut as deep as it did. He sounded hurt, and it caused a stab of guilt in Finch's chest that he then felt even more guilty for having in the first place.

“No, actually, believe it or not this is the exact opposite of what I wanted to happen here.”

“Well that isn't my fault, is it.” He heard Aerin sit back down behind him.

“No, I'm not blaming you, I just…” Finch closed his eyes. “I have to leave.”

The unfinished final half of his sentence hung between them, unspoken but still well understood. I have to leave, and I'm not going to come back.

A heavy silence found a home in the room for a moment. “Okay, fine. If that's what you want.”

Finch could hear Aerin's disappointment, and it killed him. Because he didn't want to leave, but he had to or else he'd ruin himself. He'd probably lose his friends, his brother, his dignity, almost everything he'd ever cared about. Did he really think that all of that was worth it, just for one person? That was probably what scared him the most: the fact that he knew deep down that the answer was yes. So he had to leave now.

He took a few steps toward the cell door and placed his hand on it, lingering there. “Goodbye, Aerin,” he muttered into the darkness.

“Goodbye, Finch,” the darkness responded.

Finch pulled the cell door open again and stepped back out into the hall, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. He was sure the guards were still at their posts, and now wasn't the time to be found. He locked it tightly again, and returned the key ring to the still unconscious guard on the ground, who he was sure would wake up very soon. It was time for him to go. He spared one last glance at the cell door before he departed again.

He made quick work of getting back up to his room, especially now that he knew what would be in his path. Shutting the door behind him was a bit comforting, more than he'd expected it to be at least. He supposed he'd grown sort of used to being there. Not to mention that now he was alone, which meant he had a chance to work through all of this before anyone else saw him.

He hadn't stopped feeling guilty, even after he'd gotten back into bed. He didn't intend to tell his friends, but he couldn't help thinking about how disappointed they'd be if they knew. Especially Nia, who had advised that he go in the first place. And she'd inevitably end up visiting Aerin again, wouldn’t she? Would she be able to tell something had happened? All of the uncertainty gave him a headache. He was exhausted. He didn't know how he could possibly be expected to cope with the seemingly constant stressors being thrown his way, but he was still going to try.

Right now, though, he just needed some sleep. He needed to forget about Aerin, and Nia, and everyone else. He wished he didn't have to, and that everything was easy, but it wasn't. Nothing had been even remotely easy since Kade had gotten trapped in the Shadow Realm, and now things would probably never be that simple again, no matter how much he begged the Gods for respite. His choices were either to keep moving forward, or change his name and run off to live in the mountains. He just had to keep being resilient. Either way, though, he'd be much more capable in the morning. He had to be. Whether he wanted to or not.

#just know that EVENTUALLY things do work out for them i swear #it just. isnt right now #but maybe ill write them some happiness at some point #blades of light and shadow #blades of light and shadow choices #choices #choices blades #playchoices #choices blades of light and shadow #playchoices blades of light and shadow #blades 2 #playchoices blades #aerin valleros #finch parnassus #aerin x mc

[marthamaxing]

Guardian

Well, I never thought I’d find myself writing fanfic, as I’m more of an artist, but here I am. This being my first fic, I think I did alright, and as for the fic itself, I don’t see enough stories of Ib and Garry in more normal scenarios, so I thought I’d do them justice. I might do more stories about them in the future, but for now, I hope my fellow Ib fans enjoy this. 

Also, if you're you enjoy the family dynamic between Ib and Garry then check out my Discord server: https://discord.gg/ZkuC7C7y 

Summary: An afternoon of fun at the park with Ib and Garry quickly turns awry when Ib's stuffed rabbit suddenly disappears. Update: 8/25/2023 I decided to make a few modifications to my fic. The only really noticeable alterations made was how the beginning plays out, but other than that, I mostly just changed certain paragraphs to describe things better.

A cool breeze flowed through the leaves, accompanied by the gentle warmth of the sun. Flowers bloomed in various colors, and the trees- which had appeared practically lifeless due to the harsh winter- had now grown lush and green. In addition, many creatures were also in motion, from the birds that chirped their tunes to the bees that buzzed about. For many, this was certainly a time to be out and enjoy such a beautiful and lively atmosphere. And a certain nine-year-old girl and a young man, whom she met through rather unusual circumstances at a particular gallery, didn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

Garry had been so busy with his studies and working a few extra hours at his job that he hadn't been able to babysit or visit Ib for the past few weeks. Needless to say, he was relieved to leave such stress behind for the day and spend the Friday afternoon at the park with his young friend once the school day was over.

Ib and Garry spent most of the time strolling along the sidewalk and taking in the surrounding scenery until they eventually came across the playground. Garry had thought that Ib wanted to play with the other kids; however, she turned down the idea. It wasn't that she disliked playing, but the rambunctious and frenzied energy of the children was overwhelming. So they instead opted to rest on one of the nearby benches.

Once the two sat down, Ib reached into her backpack and pulled out a storybook and, surprisingly, a plush rabbit. Ib said that her name was “Mirabella," and it was relatively small compared to the other plushies Garry had seen in the past. And this one, in particular, sported a light pink dress that made it stand out. Ib explained that she had brought Mirabella along because the rabbit had insisted on joining them. While Garry found her claim a bit humorous, he was willing to play along if it meant making her happy. As Ib opened the first page of the illustrated book, she glanced up at Garry and requested that he read it to them. It wasn't the first time he'd read to her, so he was more than glad to do so, as he genuinely enjoyed reading these little tales.

  "…But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper." Garry said as he closed the book and chuckled. "I think I did a fine job with my narration. Wouldn't you agree?"

Ib nodded and smiled at him. He then looked down at the stuffed rabbit sitting beside her.

"And did Mirabella like it, too?" he asked, gently patting the stuffed bunny.

"Yeah," Ib said with a hint of laughter.

"Good," he said happily. "My, I'm feeling thirsty after all that walking around from earlier, aren't you?"

Ib's muffled "Uh-huh" prompted Garry to scan the area. "Pretty sure I saw a vending machine around here…" he said as he continued looking before he noticed it a bit off in the distance. "Ah, there it is!" he said, pointing to it.

"You wanna wait here?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied.

"Okay, want any soda or just water?"

"Water's fine."

"Alright, just stay right there, okay? I'll be back in a bit."

She gave him an affirmative nod and smiled as he walked away. Ib turned her attention to the pond a few feet away from her while she waited for him to return, watching the ducks swimming in it, observing them as they occasionally flapped their wings or dived into the water. Her focus slightly adjusted to the ground when she noticed a vivid green frog speeding over the pavement. Ib had never seen one so close; the little creature's bright color held her interest while it hopped around on the sidewalk. Her gaze followed it till it veered off the concrete and into the grass. She couldn't resist rising to see where it was going; when she got too close, it dashed to the pond's edge and disappeared into the water. She felt somewhat let down to see the little guy leave in a hurry, but at least she had something to tell Garry when he returned.

As she turned around to head back to the bench, she suddenly felt her heart skip a beat, now seeing the spot where she and her stuffed friend sat wholly vacant. Panicked, Ib rushed over to it and tried looking under the seat. No luck. She was positive that her plushie had been placed there. She made an effort to search among some of the adjacent trees but came up empty-handed.

"Where could you have gone?" she thought, her worry intensifying gradually.

Shifting her focus to the children still running around in the distance, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to head over to the play area to do a little investigating. It wasn't as if she would be straying too far, and she knew Garry would undoubtedly have a panic attack if she weren't in sight. She just had to look. And she wasn't going to let some brat take something that didn't belong to them. Glancing over, Garry seemed to still be casually standing there, waiting for other people to grab their beverages. With that, she made her way over to the playground.

As she began her search, she first focused on the jungle gym, where most children flocked. She watched carefully as the youngsters raced their way across it, some climbing across the monkey bars by grasping them one at a time, to those that scaled the rock climbing wall and descended from the slide. After a few minutes of careful observation, she realized that none of these kids had what she was looking for. 

With only the swing set and sandbox left to check, she looked around once more. However, the results remained the same. Apart from two kids swinging back and forth on the swing set and a toddler playing with their mother in the sandbox, there was no sign of Mirabella anywhere.

With a sigh and her head hanging low, she reluctantly turned back to the bench. Her only option now was to wait for Garry's help; she only hoped whoever took her plush toy was still nearby and hadn't run off with it. 

Just as she was about to sit back down, she caught a glimpse of a much taller figure in the distance, obscured by the trees, with something white dangling from their hand. Not a second later, Ib sprinted at the sight, and as she drew nearer, the unmistakable shape of her stuffed animal came into view.

"Wait!" She shouted. 

The young man stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice and turned to face her. Once Ib made it towards him, she was panting heavily, but seeing Mirabella in sight brought her relief.

"Uh, what do you want?" he asked, irritated.

Looking up at him, Ib suddenly found herself unable to speak. The teen appeared anything but friendly, from his ripped and ragged attire to the slight scowl he gave her, was enough for her to realize that this probably wasn't going to go as well as she had hoped. All she could do now was look for words that wouldn't irritate him any further.

"Well, what is it?" he asked once more.

"U-um," she stuttered, "t-that bunny is mine..."

He glanced down at the doll and scoffed. "This is yours? You still play with wittle bunny dolls?" he said, sneering at Ib.

Ib looked down at her feet in an attempt to hide her reddened cheeks. Although this wasn't the first time she'd been criticized for still playing with toys at the age of nine, she didn't understand what the harm was. It didn't mean she was immature; if anything, she was very well-behaved compared to most her age.

"Tell you what, I'll give it back… after I have a little fun with it." he said with a smirk.

Ib did not like the sound of that, as he placed one hand on top of the toy's head with the other on its torso, giving it a slight tug. The very thought of what he was going to do next made Ib feel increasingly anxious, sending her heart pounding at an accelerated pace.

"You see, kid, I take any opportunity I get to grab whatever I want, and when I do, I like to... make improvements."

Now she knew for certain what he was planning.

"N-no!" Ib cried.

"You want it so badly? Come get it!" With a sudden yank, the plush toy was torn in two, its stuffing quickly descending to the ground, followed by its head and torso. Such a terrible sight made Ib fall to her knees in shock. Time seemed to stand still as she stared at the pieces of her beloved toy. Before she knew it, she felt a stream of tears sliding down her cheeks as she started sobbing quietly. The teen's laughter at the sight of her misery was audible, and she could tell this very much amused him. Why he decided to act so cruelly toward her was beyond her understanding.

To Ib, this wasn't just any stuffed toy; it meant so much more to her. For as many bunnies as she owned (gifted mainly by her father), she treated them with the same level of care as if they were her real friends, even giving each of them a name. Throughout her young life, she struggled to form bonds with other kids, so those stuffed friends of hers were all that she had to fill that emptiness. And now she sat in utter despair at the sight of one of them destroyed.

As she continued crying, the laughter came to an abrupt stop. A familiar voice called out her name, followed by footsteps charging in her direction and the teen's aggravated shouts. Blinking through her teary vision, she could make out a figure wearing a dark blue coat as he confronted the person she presumed to be the same one who destroyed her doll. The angry exchanges between them rang in her ears, escalating from verbal conflict to a full-on fight within moments. Wiping her tears away, she saw that her suspicions were correct.

"Garry!"

Garry glanced down at her, only to be struck in the face by his opponent’s fist, sending him back a few steps. He barely had a moment to react before he was met with a second punch to his stomach. The vicious blow forced Garry to his knees, gasping for breath. As he sat there clutching his abdomen, Garry's head was yanked up by his hair, and as a final assault, he felt a knee smash into his face from his attacker. Ib watched in horror as her friend helplessly lay there writhing in agony. She desperately wanted to help him, but her fears prevented her from moving even a single muscle.

The enraged teen made a sudden turn to face her, rage visible in his eyes. "You.. .you knew he'd come, didn't you?" he snarled.

Ib shook her head frantically, "No! I didn't-"

"Liar!" he spat. "Looks like you need to be taught a lesson too." 

He began to advance towards Ib, his intent clear in his eyes. Ib instinctively took a few steps back as he drew nearer, only to trip over a stray root. In an instant, his hand clamped onto her collar, hoisting her from the ground and pinning her against a tree, causing her to yelp. Ib's eyes widened as she found herself face-to-face with him. While she didn't dare speak, her eyes begged him for mercy, but she could see nothing but the desire to harm her. Now that they were isolated from others, she knew that nobody would come to her rescue.

As she closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away to brace herself for the inevitable pain, she suddenly felt the man's hold on her quickly release, making her land hard on the ground. When she opened her eyes, she saw Garry grappling with her attacker as he promptly pushed him flat on his back. Instantly, Garry's fist connected with his face. He clearly hit the teen pretty hard as he cried out in pain, but was soon cut off as Garry delivered another strike to him. The next thing Ib knew, Garry's fists were a blur as he mercilessly pounded the man’s face. She sat there in shock and disbelief as she watched him; she had seen him angry before, but this... this wasn't like him at all. For once, she felt frightened of Garry, the same person who had always seemed so kind and gentle. It made her question for a moment if this were the same person she had grown close to in the few months they'd known each other.

"G-Garry…?" Ib said faintly.

Garry showed no sign of stopping. With each blow he landed, his fists grew increasingly stained with red, and Ib dreaded the thought of what might happen if she let this go on. Even if it was all out of a desire to protect her, the man seemed to have given up attempting to shield himself as Garry continued to pummel him. She knew she had to intervene somehow.

Taking a deep breath, she managed to muster enough strength to shout, "Garry, stop!"

Garry turned to Ib as he was about to raise his fist once more. Seeing how distressed she was, he snapped back to reality and slowly lowered his arm. As he sat over the young man, panting, he saw the amount of damage he had done to his face and felt somewhat regretful for his actions. With a sigh, he grabbed him by his shirt and glared directly at him.

"If I ever see you near Ib again, you'll be sorry," he said, shoving the man back to the ground and proceeding to get up.

Not a second later, the teen quickly got to his feet and staggered off. All the while, Garry stood there and watched, making sure that monster was as far away from them as possible. Once he could no longer see him, he turned to Ib. She was still a bit shaken up by his actions from earlier, making him feel worse than he already did.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," he said, feeling too ashamed to look at her. "I… I was just so worried about him hurting you; I just lost it…"

Ib's expression softened. Despite how he had acted out earlier, she couldn't blame him entirely for it. She knew how protective he could be sometimes. However, part of her wondered if he had been in conflicts like this before, but she didn't dare ask as it wasn't her business to know.

Looking at the crimson droplet slowly trickling down from Garry's nose, Ib felt an immediate rush of guilt. Realizing all of this was because of her absent-mindedness. She had always been taught by her mother to take care of her things, and now, the one time she forgets, she and her friend were put in danger.

"It's my fault..." she muttered.

This took Garry aback. "Wha? Ib, you didn't-"

"I got distracted and left Mirabella behind, and he took her," She interrupted, tears growing in her eyes once more.

"I'm sorry, Garry..."

Garry knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. I know you didn't mean for this to happen." He lifted her head by her chin to face her. "Look, you just gotta keep an eye on your stuff next time. Okay?" Ib nodded and brushed her tears away, followed by a hug from Garry, hoping to put her at ease.

Once Ib had finally relaxed, Garry stood up and picked up the two halves of her doll. "I think I can sew her back up," he said as he examined it closely.

"Really?" Ib asked as her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, I think I have enough thread to do so. And I'll be sure to give her back once she's fixed."

Hearing that gave her a sense of comfort. Provided Garry had fulfilled his promise to return her handkerchief a few months before, she was confident he'd also go through with this.

"For now, why don't we grab some macarons?" Garry said with a smile and wrapped an arm around Ib. "You've had a rough day; you deserve something nice."

#ib #ib game #ib garry #garry #ib kouri #kouri #fanfic #fanfiction #mess with ib and you'll regret it

[404writes]

There is a Light That Never Goes Out - (Carl Grimes)

Masterlist !! Taglist !!

Summary: You and Carl are finally allowed on a run by yourselves. As you settle down for the night in a small house in the woods, Carl discovers a record player. Word Count: 1.8k~ Pairing: Carl Grimes / Female Reader

Warnings: None ! Just some one on one Carl time, featuring a little bit of kissing. A/N: This fic is loosely based off of "There is a Light That Never Goes Out" by The Smiths, it is also the song I listened to while writing this fic. Feel free to listen to it or any song by The Smiths while reading, I think it matches the fic.

-S404

~

Runs with Carl were always fun. You weren't the most successful pair, and you never came back with more supplies than expected, but these small outings gave you time to be outside the walls, to be free. Usually you were accompanied by another person or two. Rick said it was for efficiency, but you both knew he just wanted the two of you to be the safest you could possibly be out there. This time it was different though. After telling Rick repeatedly that he's "16 now" and can be trusted on a short overnight run, Carl managed to gain his father's trust, and Rick agreed to send the both of you out locally for the night to scavenge. It might not have been anything that special, just a two day expedition ten miles out from Alexandria. On a mission to search nearby hunting cabins for guns, canned food, anything that you could scrape up really. However it was special for you, you'd never been away from Alexandria without multiple other members of the group for a long time, ever really.

~

"Alright you two, remember no detours, and if anything is the slightest bit off you come straight back." Rick was going through both of your bags, making sure you had the correct supplies and protection. He had a mixture of worry and pride on his face. He wasn't against the idea of you two having independence, this just wasn't his ideal way of allowing it. "The car should have enough fuel in it to get you there and back easily, remember all the things I taught you in your driving lessons, don't be stupid." You wondered how long he would have gone on if Carl hadn't stopped him. "Dad we'll be fine. I know you have doubt, but we can take care of ourselves and each other out there." The worry in Rick's face didn't subside.

You couldn't help but be excited, not just for the adventure or the independence, but for the time you'd get to spend with Carl. You knew he'd indulge any urge you had for something risky or adrenaline-inducing, unlike the others. You felt like an adult in the most childish way. ~ Daylight was burning. As you and Carl hopped into the car, you occupying the passenger seat, Michonne and Rick put your bags into the trunk. You agree they were being overprotective, but no one could really blame them.

In this world all it took was one bite or a scratch and you were as good as dead.

The pair of you waved and said goodbye as Eugene opened the main gate, Michonne looked over and said something to Rick which you couldn't hear over the car engine, however after that Rick appeared more at peace.

~

It should have only been a fifteen minute drive, but Carl's dodgy driving was easily going to make it double. The second you had exited the gates of Alexandria you had taken your seat belt off unadvisedly, however the piece of polyester made you feel restricted.

You reached your hand out to roll down the window. It was one of those old-fashioned cars, grey exterior, two-seater, and an inside that smelt like your grandparents house did.

"I've wanted to do this forever," you said as you re-positioned yourself sideways and leaned your head out the window. The wind blew over your bare shoulders as your hair floated in the breeze, your upper half covered by nothing but a dark green tank top.

As you climbed back inside the car, you peered over at Carl to see a smile emerging on his face, the flannel he was wearing was slightly blowing backwards at the gentle wind that managed to reach his side.

"You're easy to please," he said with a slight chuckle.

"It's called having fun, you should try it sometime." Your words earned another smile out of the man.

~

The rest of the ride was a peaceful one, the area was decently clear, so walkers weren't something you had to look out for and could almost avoid completely.

It was also a quiet ride, after pulling the window back up and eliminating the whistle of the wind, the only noises to be heard were the occasional remarks about Carl's terrible driving, and comments about a certain protective and bearded man.

As the car halted in what used to be a forest-enclosed picnic site, you were quick to analyse the surrounding area. Rick had purposely sent you to a place which he knew would be clear, but nevertheless it was important to check anyway. As expected there was no immediate threat in sight.

You picked up the map you had been receiving directions from off the dashboard as both you and Carl exited the car. Whilst picking up your backpack from the trunk, you took mental note of the area for future reference.

"Alright Mr. Grimes, there are seven cabins marked down on this map, and we have around four hours of sunlight to get through as many as we can, the rest we can finish tomorrow." You knew you'd only get a couple done today, but at least the work ethic could be appreciated.

"And how far out's the first one?" Carl asked.

You told him that by the looks of it you'd be walking for another two miles, that was enough to make him pick up the pace.

~

The first three houses were slow; supplies were minimal, and few walkers had dared to show their rotting faces. By the time you reached the fourth the sun was beginning to set, you mutually decided to take refuge there for the night rather than continue.

After clearing the house, you both took the extra "leisure time" to scout around for any tidbits you could take home for yourselves.

You managed to gather a small blue cat statue for Michonne, a couple old comics, and some pencils. You were about to assess the sleeping situation just as you heard Carl call out from the main room.

"Y/N! Come check this out!" He sounded more than mildly excited, you quickly poked your head around the corner to see what he had found.

"Get a load of this, a record player!" It was the clunkiest thing you had ever seen, a giant hunk of square. You had to laugh at least a little at the oddities of the man.

"Carl we are not taking that home with us." As much as you wanted to entertain the idea, it was just mildly preposterous.

"Yeah well I know that, but look what else I found." He put down the machine and picked up something else sitting to his side.

He held the record up beside his head, "It's one my mom and I used to play, I think you'd like it too. I thought maybe we could give it a listen." Still standing in the doorway you threw him a nod, to which he quickly started assembling the machine.

~ As the music began to play, so did Carl. He started making emotive gestures and lip-syncing with the music. You glanced at him disapprovingly from across the room, to which he walked over and reached out his arm.

"M'lady?" Carl bowed down, removing his hat with his free arm.

Letting out a small sigh, you took his hand. He pulled you out into the middle of the room, where you both began to dance slowly.

"Can you tell I've never danced like this before?" Carl whispered the words gently in your ear, as to not disturb the slow rhythm of the music.

You chuckled before answering, "No, not at all. You're doing great."

The music was harmonic and slightly dull, but it spoke to you all too well. The pair of you stumbled around for the next twenty minutes, bumping feet occasionally and rarely making eye contact.

It was peaceful, even before the world ended you'd never felt this kind of enjoyment.

As the music slowed and eventually stopped all together, so did you.

You pulled away from the man soulfully. Still holding onto to one of his arms, you performed just one more twirl. Finally focusing in on his face, you could see him smiling, looking right back at you.

He looked in awe to an extent, maybe because he'd never been this close with somebody before, or maybe it was the effect you had on him. Either way, you felt the same.

You came closer to him once more, this time just slightly elevating yourself on your toes, bringing you at eye-level to his face. You leaned in, gently leaving a delicate kiss on his lips. As you smiled and pulled back, he became mildly flustered, his face turning a light shade of pink.

~

No words were exchanged between the two of you in the moments after that kiss. You did however, feel his gaze on your presence as you turned away and headed toward the record player, removing the vinyl and placing the circular disk in your backpack.

"Well you're easy to please," you finally broke the silence. You found it humorous how effortlessly you bewildered the man.

"It's called having fun, you should try it sometime," he spoke in a comical voice, obviously imitating you, however the voice was not one bit accurate. He looked across at you, awaiting validation for his joke.

"Well, I call dibs on first sleeping shift." You began to run to the bedroom only halfway through your sentence.

"I hate you, you know?" Carl shouted out still standing boggled in the main room.

"Sure you do Grimes, sure you do." The second phrase came out as no more than a whisper. Pleased with yourself, you crawled into a comfortable position on the bed, closing your eyes.

In the lack of visual stimulation, you could almost feel the man outside slouching down against the wall, and it was all because of you.

#aaHH i love this one #originally the record playing was supposed to be a billy joel one #but im glad i changed it #idk if it's just me but i love the idea of soft and easily flustered carl #twd #the walking dead #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #carl grimes #carl twd #grimes #rick grimes #richonne #judith grimes #y/n #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #writers #writing #writers of tumblr #twd oneshot #twd drabble #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes headcanons #s404 writes

[amiscreations]

Closer Company ~ Def Leppard

Notes: My second ever fic! and my first ever attempt at writing from the readers perspective, so apologies if its a little rough or cringeworthy! This story was SO sweet tho, and such a blast to write aww🥰 it was inspired by the beginning of an episode of Green Wing, one of my favourite shows!

Summary: what do you do when the house is freezing, with no hope of heating for the best part of the day? Wait it out while cosying up with the Leppards of course!

Warnings: a few small references to alcohol, but otherwise just total fluff! 

Setting: the pre-Hysteria house, Dublin, 1984 (but honestly you could pick any era)

Word Count: 3293

Dedicated to: @i-dont-want-your-hysteria​ @thiswatch-lepparddef-werehi​ @de-luxeviolets​ for inspiring me to write! Your stories are always amazing, and never fail to brighten my day🥰

*****

As you felt the morning sun cascade onto your face, you found that the atmosphere of the room did not reciprocate the bright hues from outside the curtains. Your usually cosy bedroom had an icy chill to it, as if the windows had been left wide open in midwinter. 

You bundled yourself up in your duvet, not quite ready to face the cold in just a vest and shorts. In the time it had taken you to register the drastic change in temperature, the sky had become dark and miserable, blocking out the fleeting sunbeams that had originally woken you. Typical Irish weather of course, especially in early spring. Still, the indoor heating usually meant that any bad weather was left outside.

The heating! You vaguely remembered that last night Sav had tried to turn it off, most likely as an attempt to stop himself boiling to death in his own room. Living with five musicians however, none were particularly apt in home maintenance, and Sav was no exception. 

Reluctantly, you slipped out of your bed, wrapping your duvet around you as you did so, and ambled down the stairs. The house was gloomy and, of course, freezing. None of the boys were up yet, and as the chill of the air nipped at your bare feet, you envied them more and more.

The kitchen floor was like ice, and you tiptoed over to the cupboard where the boiler was located, making as little contact with the floor as was humanly possible. As you did so, heavy rain started to patter on the roof. 

Great, just what I need to lighten the mood, you thought.

Accompanied only by the downfall outside, you opened the cupboard, and immediately clocked the cause of the cold. While you didn’t know much about boilers, you did know that three sets of rapidly flashing red lights probably meant that something was up. In other words, the heating was broken. 

Before you could think of anything else, you were already calling Joe’s name. Perhaps he could help? 

“Joseph!” you called again, adding a little more desperation to your voice, shifting from foot to foot on the icy floor. No answer. 

You groaned, and climbed up the stairs once again, still wrapped up in your duvet. As you ascended, the rain became louder and louder, and you realised, despite the circumstances, it was strangely soothing. You opened Joe’s door to find him still asleep on his front, half draped in his own duvet, obviously not aware of the cold yet. He was also hugging a half finished bottle of red wine. He looked so peaceful, so unaware, that you almost didn't want to wake him. But as the cold seeped further into your duvet, you couldn't take being alone in this house for a second longer. 

“Joe, Joe wake up,” you shook him. He grumbled in annoyance, but remained unconscious. 

“Please Joe, I'm freezing!” you flopped down onto the bed behind him. Perhaps the jumping-on-the-bed-like-a-toddler approach would be more effective. You continued to shake him. 

“What?” he sleepily groaned. A sudden cheeky smile cut across his face. “Are you back for more action?” he joked.

“In your dreams,” you said flatly, elbowing him in the ribs. “Wake up, the boilers’ broken, and I need you to fix it.”

“Good morning to you too,” he rubbed his face with one hand, keeping the other firmly on the wine bottle.

You buried yourself under his duvet, still clad in your own. “Can’t you feel how cold it is?”

“Nope, I have my jacket,” his voice was muffled through the layers of blanket. 

“What?” you burrowed back out of the covers to look at him, just as he took a swig of wine. Oh, you thought to yourself.

“I'm still feeling the first half of this bottle,” he hiccuped. “So I dont think I'll be any good at fixing anything. Get Phil to do it.”

“Oh please just look at it,” you were getting a little frustrated. “Besides, remember when Phil and Steve tried to make ‘The worlds’ biggest pedalboard’? We had no electricity for two days.”

“Alright alright,” he rolled out of bed. You were amazed at how he was not freezing to death wearing only a pair of union jack shorts, even with his wine-blanket. “Bloody English weather,” he looked out the window at the grey clouds which were pouring rain. You noticed that the sky was even darker than when you’d woken up, and would not be surprised if a thunderstorm was on the way. “C’mon then,” he ambled downstairs, with you at his heels.

***

“Yep, yep ok, thanks, bye!” you hung up the receiver and sighed. Both you and Joe were now tightly wrapped up together in your duvet, leaning on the kitchen counter. After taking one look at the boiler, and cursing Sav in the process, Joe decided that this particular problem could not be solved by simply fiddling about and hoping for the best, and five minutes later, you were on the phone to the heating company. Joe had put some water on to boil for cups of tea.

“Well?” Joe asked, not moving his head from your shoulder.

“They can get a man round to fix it this evening,” you sighed. “‘Til then looks like we're stuck in the cold.”

The two of you stood huddled together in the duvet, waiting for the water to boil for your respective hot beverages. 

“This blanket smells of you,” Joe suddenly observed.

“What do you mean? Is that such a bad thing?” You were suddenly a little self conscious.

“I mean your perfume, your shampoo, that sort of stuff. I couldn't help but notice.” he tilted his head a little and smelt your hair. “You just have a… distinct sweet smell is all.”

“Get off! Get your own blanket!” you giggled and shrugged him off, to little avail as said blanket was keeping you pressed together.

“No, we have to huddle together for warmth. It's what all the polar explorers do,” he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, enclosing you both in the duvet more, closing off the gaps where the cold was creeping in. 

You couldn't help but feel more relaxed, what with Joe being like a human radiator next to you. The crashing of the rain outside, and the cold in the air provided a stark contrast to your cosy little standing nest. With more than enough heat returning to your body, and with Joe as a mutual support beam, you almost felt like you could fall asleep there. 

“If you were a real man you’d be on a stepladder stripping down that damn boiler and locating the problem,” a familiar London accent broke the calmness. Phil appeared at the bottom of the stairs wearing a chunky grey jumper and slippers in the shape of bear paws. Despite this, he was wearing the same union jack shorts as Joe.

“The problem with that boiler is still upstairs sleeping,” Joe, motioned in the general direction of Sav’s room and opened the duvet for Phil to join the huddle, which he did without hesitation. There was more than enough room to spare, and Joe was now sandwiched between you and Phil. “The bastard must have pressed every button on it, in the right order for it to say ‘i've had enough of this’ and off itself before he blew the place up.”

“Probably be warmer if he had done that, at least there would be a fire,” Phil smirked. 

While the three of you had been distracted, the water on the stove had finally begun to boil. The gas seemed to be unaffected by the whole boiler issue, a fact you were most grateful for. It turns out there was just enough water for three cups of tea. You didn’t want to spend any more time outside of the blanket than necessary, so walking to and opening the fridge was out of the question. Instead, you each put an extra cube of sugar in to make up for the lack of milk. Not that that was very high on your list of priorities, really the goal was just to have a warm beverage regardless.

Eventually you settled on the sofa, cosying up to each other under the blanket just like before, clutching your cups of tea. On the TV there were reruns of The Young Ones, which provided a welcome distraction from the cold and rain. 

While you were focused on warming up, a sleepy Rick appeared at the bottom of the stairs. There seemed to be a trend today of the boys wearing the Union Jack shorts. He went over to the toaster and began to toast some bread. Joe shuffled around to look over the back of the sofa, and stared at him with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He remarked at the barely clothed drummer.

“Hmm?” He answered innocently, as he got a jar of jam out of the cupboard.

Joe hurriedly gestured to the mess of blankets on the sofa. “The boilers broke, we’re getting frostbite here?” 

“Oh yeah, I did think it was a little chillier than usual,” he pointed out. “I thought it was just the rain. Still, because I’m not a wimp like you lot I’ve learned to survive in the cold. After drumming for an hour I’ll have a good enough body heat going to heat this house myself!” 

He spread butter and jam on his toast, before exiting without another word. After a few minutes, sure enough, you could hear his drum kit ringing out from a few rooms over. 

“Perhaps we should move about a bit to keep warm?” Phil suggested, picturing Rick at his drum kit. This idea was almost immediately shut down by a chorus of “no!”, while you and Joe pulled the blanket tighter. “Well, sorry I asked,” Phil smirked.

You finished the episode of the Young Ones, but we’re disappointed to see that there was nothing interesting on after that. You sat in silence for a while, until your minds quickly became restless. None of you wanted to be the first to suggest abandoning the blanket nest. 

“We need to put on some music or something,” you finally suggested.

“But the music is out there,” Joe nodded in the general direction of the record player with wide eyes. He proceeded to sink further into the sofa. “It’s not safe, you know that if I get too cold I’ll lose my voice,” he pouted.

“Rick’s right, you are a wimp,” you rolled your eyes. Despite your teasing of Joe, however, you too remained on the sofa.

“Shout Steve, get him to put it on for us,” Phil suggested.

“‘Shout Steve’? He's not a dog, Phil,” Joe chuckled at the idea. 

Without any hesitation, Phil was shouting “CLARK!” at the top of his lungs, which made both you and Joe jump. There was no answer. 

Phil thought for a second and shouted through a mischievous grin: “ok, i guess i'll just start tuning the Les Paul you left down here last night, i've had a few ideas!”

Before Phil had finished speaking, quick footsteps were heard from upstairs. “Works every time,” Phil said with a proud smile. Seconds later, an exasperated Steve came hurtling down the stairs, and hurried over to the guitar in question, which was on its stand in the corner. Steve was wearing a tight tshirt and yet another pair of union jack shorts. 

Once he saw that the guitar was, in fact, untouched, he turned to the mess of blankets, people and discarded mugs on the sofa. “What's all this about?”

“Could you put some music on pleeeease?” Phil teased. 

“You're saying you got me down here just so I could put some music on?” Steve was slightly out of breath. “|The record player is ten bloody feet away! Not to mention you almost gave me a heart attack, you know I'm the only one who can tune that guitar.” Steve had his hands on his hips. 

“Steve, I do also know how to tune guitars. What's so special about that one?”

“For the hundred and fiftieth bloody time, the headstock is fragile!” 

While you felt a little sorry for Steve, you couldn't help giggling at his frustration. Joe and Phil were smiling too. 

“What?” Steve shrugged. “It's true! You're just too heavy handed!” 

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, Steve began to rub the tops of his arms. “Bit cold isn't it?” 

“Yeah, we noticed,” you glanced down to the blankets covering the three of you on the sofa. 

Steve looked puzzled, “didn't the heating-”

“Savage broke it, apparently,” Phil rolled his eyes. “Look if you're not going to put any music on I suggest you join the huddle, I'm getting cold just looking at you.”

“Yes mum,” Steve stuck his tongue out at his terror twin. He grabbed the guitar and climbed into the blanket next to you. While the guitar wasn't plugged into an amp, Steve seemed to be able to effortlessly tune it regardless. You watched him as he carefully adjusted the strings between playing small riffs. 

And then there were four. The rain was pelting down harder than ever, and although it was still morning, the dark clouds that hung low in the sky turning the outside gloomy. Despite this, the colder the atmosphere grew, the more content you felt, especially when wrapped up with the three Leppards. The steady pattering of the rain, the cosiness of the blanket fort, and Steve's strangely rhythmic playing of the now tuned guitar was enough to lull you into a light stupor. 

***

You weren't sure how long you were asleep for, in fact you didn't remember intentionally going to sleep at all, but when you came to, you found yourself with your head on Joe's shoulder. Slightly embarrassed, you shifted position, but as you went to sit up, you realised that Joe's arm was draped around you. After coming to your senses a little bit, you saw that it was the football on the TV, and Joe cheering at it, that woke you up. 

“He is a genius, a bloody genius I tell ya!” Joe pointed at one of the players on the tv. 

“hmmph No football-talk before twelve pm, remember Joe? It melts my brain,” you grumbled, pulling the blanket over your face.

“Lightweight,” Joe teased. “Anyway, it is after twelve now, you and Steve fell asleep, Rick is actually doing work, and Sav is cowering in his bedroom. What else were we supposed to do?” 

You glanced over at the clock, which did, indeed, read half-past twelve. As well as this, you came to realise that Steve was using your own shoulder as a pillow, and was still fast asleep. The guitar was on the sofa next to him.

You smiled at how peaceful he looked, although that was soon interrupted by a certain drummer. Rick entered looking like he’d just run a marathon, still wearing his drumming gloves. “Is anyone gonna make some lunch? I'm starving here!”

“Only if you make it, for all of us,” Phil kept his eyes firmly glued to the tv. 

“Look, just because I don't feel the cold, it doesn't mean I'm gonna be your slave for the day,” Rick dried his hair and face with a towel. “I might just join you lot if it's all the same.”

And without another word he flopped onto the sofa, across all of your laps, sparking protests from all.

“OW!-”

“Rick for god's sake-”

“Your elbow went in my-”

“Bloody hell what did you do that for?”

While Rick was in the process of being hit with pillows left right and centre, this drew attention away from the fact that Sav had snuck down to see what the fuss was about. He cleared his throat, causing everyone to jump. 

“Oh, when did you get here?” Joe glared at the bassist. He was wearing a pair of grey joggers, and a green turtleneck jumper, the collar of which was pulled over his nose, leaving his eyes barely visible under his masses of frizzy hair. Despite him being the most aptly dressed for the climate within the house, you could tell that he was also feeling the cold, as his hands were buried in the pockets of his trousers, and his shoulders were hunched up to his ears.

“Look now I know what you're thinking,” he looked at the floor. “But you have to understand I could not take another bloody minute in that room. I've tried everything, you know I have, but I just… can't sleep. And then you all get mad when I'm tired on the occasion we actually want to get something done.”

“I keep telling you, mate, just sleep on the sofa or something,” Joe offered. “It would save you from bringing on the next Ice Age for starters.”

“Joe, my only fifteen square foot of personal space on this entire planet is in that room, I'm not gonna just give that up. Mind you, even then I'll sometimes find one of you in there flat out drunk or something, which by the way, is the only way any human being would ever have a chance of sleeping decently in there.”

“Oh Rick, you just don't get it, do you?” Phil sighed. Sav shot him a confused look, before he elaborated. “Everyone knows that the concept of personal space becomes null and void when you join a band, let alone a touring band. Look, Joe says there's a man, a proper man, coming over this evening to fix the heating. You can ask him about the problem in your room too, I'm sure. In the meantime I suggest you join us and wait out the cold. Rick make some room will you?”

The drummer reluctantly rolled off the sofa, and walked into the kitchen, while you and Joe made room for Sav to sit in between you. He fought a smile while you cosied up to him. After all, Phil was right. As soon as you’d joined the Leppard crew, personal space as you knew it vanished, so you made the most of the alternative, and the close company it brought. Of course it got annoying at times, but you wouldn't trade it for the world, and you knew for certain that none of the guys would, either.

The football was still playing on the tv through all this. While you didn't understand a thing that was happening, and apparently, neither did Steve, who was still perfectly content leaning on your shoulder, Joe, Sav and Phil were automatically captivated. It was fun listening to them exchange feedback, or random words of encouragement to the players, as if they could hear them through the screen. It was like another language. 

Just as the five of you had settled down, Rick returned from the kitchen carrying a large plate piled with jam sandwiches. He placed it on the coffee table, and went back into the kitchen, and quickly returned with a stack of plastic cups and a jug of orange juice, placing those next to the sandwiches. Without a word, he sat down next to Steve, moving the guitar. At first, he didn't notice the five pairs of wide eyes that were trained on him. 

“What?” he finally challenged. “...Ok so maybe I felt a little sorry for you all. if we’re camping here for the day then we’re gonna do it properly. But you've gotta learn how to survive in the wilderness, y’know?” he took a sandwich from the plate. The others just laughed and did the same, settling in for yet another lazy day in front of the TV. Though you looked forward to having heating again, as well as sun to brighten the mood, you knew that days like these did not come often, and you made sure to make the most of spending precious time doing nothing with your five favourite people. 

#can you tell I know nOThing about football/soccer lol? #I had so much fun with this honestly🥰 #I didn't even draft or plan it I just sorta went with it #def leppard #Joe Elliott #Rick Savage #rick allen #Phil Collen #Steve Clark

[k1nky-fool]

Hello again, dearie

2, 3, 4, 8, 13, 14, 15, The least sane moments

1, 8, 13, 14, 15, Fuck around and find out

Hi babes! I am so sorry this took forever! As I said yesterday, I vastly overestimated my ability to fight off motion sickness on the road trip (I have now learned of a magic thing called dramamine), and being a tourist in DC for the week is definitely keeping me busy doing a bunch of cool stuff. But I loved all of these questions, and I'm always open to more.

Least Sane Moments

2: What scene did you first put down?

We all know the fanfic author's struggle with having one scene in mind and being obsessed with just that one scene, and we write an entire fic around that one scene. I'm pleased to say that Least Sane Moments started with just one, and has evolved into giving me many that keep me going with the story.

That first scene that I got obsessed with was that sparring scene in Part 2. I love writing sparring in general, because it's a great catalyst for tension. Oddly enough, that scene was supposed to be an avenue for sexual tension, but when I got to it, I ended up writing that angsty, emotional tension, and I liked it a lot more. It felt more natural for the characters, particularly Mita.

From there, I got fixated on Mita and Grayson's talk in Part 3, along with the introduction of the five eyed creature. Then you can probably tell the next was Mita telling Vander who the five eyed is. And I have a few more that I am obsessed with. One of them is in the next chapter.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Her words lifted a painful burden off of him, even if it was only a small piece of everything that weighed him down, it was enough to give him hope again.

I mention Mita's perspective most often, but this one really stuck with me. This was after Mita said she forgives Vander for the mess of the attack on the bridge. We know he sees it as one of his greatest failures, and I imagine he never expected to be forgiven for it. But after everything Vander has done to provide comfort for Mita, this is really the first time we see her realizing he needs comfort from her, and she gives it without question, knowing what that attack did, and forgiving him for the chaos it caused in her own life.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Now forgive me, but my favorite line of dialogue is from Part 5 that I have yet to finish. I'll give it to you as a little sneak peak.

"I owe you a rematch, creature; I don't owe you my fear."

I think it's badass in context, and I hope a couple people think so too. Vander gives Mita courage to do things she wouldn't otherwise have the courage to do. Most of the time, its vulnerability, here it's spitting in the face of someone she has been scared of her whole life.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

I've mentioned that a lot of aspects of Mita were greatly inspired by Asajj Ventress from Star Wars: The Clone Wars and that is a fictional character, but most of her characterization is self-insert. I know I have trust issues, but for Mita I did dial it up to 100. That being said, I paired her with a character that would be very easy to trust, and would be very patient with her.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

Fun fact: I have specific songs that remind me of all my OCs and stories. Pepper is the easiest to find songs for. However, for some reason, finding songs for Mita is so fucking hard for me.

The funniest thing is that I haven't found a single song that reminds me of her that isn't by Imagine Dragons.

Friction by Imagine Dragons

Natural by Imagine Dragons

Enemy by Imagine Dragons (that's a cheap shot tho)

Believer by Imagine Dragons

I am begging for any other song suggestions if anyone has any, I can't have all my Mita songs being by the same default band for this show.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I hope people can get the message that fear is to be expected, even for the strongest of people. Mita is the stone cold, assassin type, but even she fears what has hurt her. I also hope that other people can see the difference between being cautious of harm and self-sabotage by self-isolation. Mita is a character that struggles with being vulnerable because of the pain she's experienced, yet there are always people that are truly willing to give her a safe space to be vulnerable. When you have that space, you're allowed to use it.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

Honestly, most of what I've learned from writing this is about my own writing process. Ngl, when I started this fic, I didn't have a full outline. I just had the ideas and started writing what I wanted to, finding the story along the way. And now that I have a full outline, I like how I did this. It's fun to write, and I think that's what's most important when posting fic.

Fuck Around and Find Out

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

This was yet another fic that I just started writing because I wanted to. But a lot of my inspiration for this fic came from @gaybybirth and her fic A Theory. I was inspired by her writing, particularly in the way she writes Viktor, and I went for a similar vibe with him in my fic.

But writing Devo the way I do, was a change of pace. She was definitely different from most other OCs I write. She doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, but she's also not cold and calculating. Devo is definitely the type to bottle up her emotions until eruption, and I definitely identify with that trait as well, but I definitely made Devo a bit more timid than myself.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

So, some of my followers may know because they read my blog bio, but I am actually only one alter in a system. We have a dissociative disorder, and we are completely different people.

Devo's personality is based on one of the alters in the system, and I do regularly consult her for some responses and a different alter has a special interest in astronomy and he will also weigh in on the more scientific aspects of the fic. That being said, we are still fairly amateur, and we do make mistakes.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I don't have many songs for Devo, because many of the songs I listen to for her aren't just to get in the mood to write her. I do have a few tho

Curses by The Crane Wives

Do I Wanna Know by The Arctic Monkeys

Royals by Lorde

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I have several scenes of Devo's journey in processing trauma, and I try to do it as respectfully as possible, especially considering that I myself have certain traumas that Devo works through. I hope people can learn that progress isn't linear, and even the strongest of survivors have terrible days.

However, the lesson that I make the overarching theme in the story is what a different version of love looks like. Both Viktor and Devo are people who love their work. I especially wanted to show what that kind of love looks like, when two people love each other, and neither of them are competing with the other's passion for the other's studies. I don't think there's any shame in being 2nd place to someone's passion. If you have an issue with being 2nd place in someone's attention, then it's ok to admit that relationship isn't for you. But I also want to show what it looks like when 2nd place is treated in a healthy way.

I originally hated part 3 when I posted it, but one conversation in it has definitely stuck out to me as the entire theme of the story of Viktor and Devo's relationship and in the plot in general.

"It is rare that I find someone who places their studies in priority over personal interests." He said, picking up the second volume to check the calculations. "I do it, myself, but it is not often that I find someone that might understand that priority."

Devo chuckled, going back to her telescope and writing notes. "I take it your past relationships tend to fail when your partner finds out they're not the reason you wake up in the morning."

It's ok to find love in 2nd place.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

As I mentioned earlier, this fic definitely has its therapeutic uses for me. But the one thing I have definitely learned about myself in this fic is that I have often had problems with perfectionism. I have an unhealthy habit of tossing out good and fun work when I don't like the end result.

And particularly in the case of part 3, I learned that in possibly the best way possible. I hated part 3 when I posted it. It felt so rushed and I really just wanted to get to the cool stuff in part 4. I even posted 4 not even a full hour after 3, because I just wanted it to fly under the radar. But what I missed in my own writing were some of the best developments in my characters. Some people have even told me that 3 was their favorite so far.

I learned that I don't have to be perfect. I write for my own enjoyment, but I post it for everyone else to enjoy it with me. And a lot of the time, they will disagree with me on what the best parts are or who the best character is. I don't need to stress about everything being perfect in my own eyes, because when I make good work, it's possible for someone to disagree with me. And I found that very comforting, especially in my writing process.

#arcane oc #arcane #arcane fanfic #vander x oc #viktor x oc #fic ask game

[daddydemus]

old art I drew of Lucifier looking disheveled and being worried over his partner being sick.

open collaboration drawing, feel free to color it in, if ya do use it just give me credit for lines :)

#i think i wanted to write a small fic to accompany this however i never got around to it #have fun! #obey me! #obeyme #daddydemus #open collaboration #obey me lucifer #obey me! lucifer

[beccascribbles]

can you please do an omegaverse fic with inarizaki having an omega manager that goes into heat during a game and she tries to leave but some guys from another team stop her and harass her but the bois pull up and protect her <3

a/n - right, just a warning, i’m a big atsumu simp and this became abundantly clear to me when i was writing this... it’s less inarizaki and more miya twins (with the addition of kita). whoops

warnings - harassment (unwanted touching, sexual implications)

In hindsight, leaving the house without packing heat suppressants, or at least being aware of your own condition, was reckless of you. It wasn't your fault you had woken up late and had to rush to ensure you looked presentable by the time the twins came by to collect you. Though you would have loved to make the twins late (considering it was their fault - they didn’t have to get you hooked on a new TV show and leave the call midway through the season finale), you weren’t so keen on having any of Kita’s disappointment directed towards you. Therefore, when the twins arrived, Atsumu with a wide smirk at your slightly dishevelled self, you settled on directing a swift punch to their stomachs as revenge.

“Ouch,” whined Atsumu, rubbing his stomach with a pout. “What was that for, stupid?”

“Obviously she’s pissed off that we let her stay up late,” Osamu grumbled, also rubbing his stomach, though, instead of a pout, his lips were tugged downwards in a frown. “Although I don’t see how her terrible sleep schedule is our problem.”

“Don’t get me hooked on a new show next time,” you muttered, looping an arm through Osamu’s and beginning to pull him down the road. In your other hand, you held a cool bag with some snacks for the team. The only reason you had grabbed Osamu with your free arm was to prevent him from peeking into the bag. If he had hands free to look, he had hands free to eat the food within. Atsumu was less likely to eat the food, though that didn’t stop him from unzipping the bag and peeking inside.

“Oh, tasty!” he exclaimed, zipping up the bag and making eye contact with Osamu, whose head had turned in his direction once the words left his mouth. He was clearly pleading with his twin to reveal what was in the bag. Atsumu simply stuck his tongue out. “Why don’t ya use your nose to figure it out? You always boast about having a better sense of smell than me anyway.”

“Because I do,” snapped back Osamu, quickly becoming irritated, muscles tensing as he prepared himself to leap towards his twin. Your arm tightened around his, and you shot him a look, eyes holding a warning. With care, you let your scent wind through the air around the three of you, the twin alphas calming at the subtle shift in the air.

Atsumu looped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, the bag you were carrying bumping awkwardly against his legs in the process. This action almost caused your arm to slip from Osamu’s, but he quickly tightened his hold. Atsumu was not going to pull you away from him. Almost in sync, they both turned towards you, noses nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You let out a slightly frustrated sigh, but let them continue scenting you. After all, when they were able to do this, they were at their calmest, and you still had a long bus journey ahead of you where keeping arguments to a minimum was preferable.

When you began to approach the school gates, you pulled out of their grasp, walking ahead of them. You began to walk faster, shooting a look over your shoulder to see the pair of them watching you with confused expressions. It was when you finally broke into a sprint, hefting the bag holding the food at a weird angle, that they realised what you had in mind. Letting out a laugh, Atsumu took off after you; Osamu quickly followed. If you had managed to get a bigger head start, you might have won. However, on this occasion, both twins pulled ahead of you, darting around a bewildered Kita and launching forward to touch the bus with their fingers.

“I won!” they declared in unison, an argument breaking out between them that you tuned out in favour of focusing your attention on Kita. Aran had already walked over to the twins, grabbing them by the backs of their jackets and hauling them away. It was this sudden movement that jerked them from their argument.

“Hey,” you greeted, giving Kita a weary smile as he reached forward to take the food from you. Together, you walked towards the bus. Kita, having arrived ridiculously early, had already packed away everything that the team would need. The only thing not within the bus was most of the team, their individual athletic bags, and whatever you had brought with you. You climbed in, reaching up to place the bag on the overhang above you. Once you had finished, you turned to face Kita. “I think we’re going to win for sure. I did some research on this team and they’ve put forward a series of underwhelming performances in official games, as well as practice matches. They’re no match for Inarizaki, especially with our captain ready to step in if the second years on court get too excited or lazy.”

The latter comment was directed towards Suna, whose head poked up from behind a seat near the back of the bus. He raised his middle finger up in response before refocusing on the phone he was holding in his other hand. You yelled over at him, “Good morning to you too.”

“Whatever, y/n,” he sighed, looking up at you once again. “Just sit down somewhere, preferably a place where the two idiots can argue over who gets to sit next to you.”

You just rolled your eyes, taking the seat you were planning on claiming originally. Kita stood in the aisle, giving you a small smile. “I’m glad you’re confident we’re going to win, especially with all the practice everybody has been putting in.”

“I know,” you grinned. While continuing with the conversation, you motioned towards the seat beside you, indicating for Kita to take it. You’d rather sit next to Kita than have to deal with the twins for the journey anyway. “Everybody has been putting in so much more effort. I swear I’ve had to physically drag Atsumu out of the gym most days.”

“He just doesn’t listen,” sighed Kita, resting his head against the headrest. “I keep telling him practicing too much is bad for his health. He even got a fever because he was practicing too hard.”

“He’s stupid like that,” you shrugged, a yawn cutting through whatever you were about to say next.

“You better be talkin’ about Samu,” interrupted Atsumu, taking the seat in front of you and turning around to face you. Osamu collapsed into the seat beside him, flicking him in the forehead.

“She was obviously talking about you, dumbass,” he quipped.

Osamu turned to you for confirmation, only to see your head resting against the captain’s shoulder. He questioned, “y/n?”

“Of course she’s asleep,” laughed Atsumu, nudging Osamu with his shoulder, previous comment forgotten in favour of teasing you. “She can’t take the late nights.”

“Keep it down,” Kita said, adjusting your head so that it was rested against him more comfortably. In response, you moved closer to him, an arm sliding around his waist to hug him as you mumbled something incoherent in your sleep. A furious blush spread along his cheeks, and he ducked his head to hide from the twins. Luckily, their attention was fixed elsewhere, on a video Suna had sent to Osamu, too lazy to get up to walk down the coach to show him. Kita let out a sigh, dropping his head to rest atop of yours. He chided, not that you could hear him in your slumber, “You should really try to sleep earlier.”

It was fortunate for you that you slept for most of the journey. You missed Osamu moaning about being hungry, and then proceeding to search up pictures of food to drool over. Consequently, you also missed Atsumu hitting his twin and being scolded by Kita, something that always made you laugh. However, Suna had got up to draw on your face, which would have been an unfortunate consequence. Luckily, it was only to shuffle back to his seat sheepishly, the sight of Kita beside you a deterrent.

“You had to fall asleep on Kita,” grumbled Suna, walking along beside you as you entered the gymnasium. You trailed behind the rest of the team, your footsteps unusually sluggish. You blamed it on your late night. “Why couldn’t you have fallen asleep on Atsumu? He would’ve let me draw on your face.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you didn’t,” you responded, transferring the food bag to your other hand. The weight, though it wasn’t abnormally heavy, was beginning to make your arm ache. In fact, your whole body ached. Eyebrows furrowed, you continued switching the bag from hand to hand. It made no difference. You still ached.

“You look constipated,” observed Suna, though he took the food from your grip. You gave him a thankful smile, which he waved off. “I’m not being nice. I just don’t like walking beside someone with such a stupid expression on their face.”

“I didn’t ask you to walk beside me,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. They still ached, even without the bag. All you wanted to do was collapse on the bench at the sidelines.

“It’s not my fault you decided to walk so slowly today,” replied Suna, glancing over at you briefly. Something about you was off, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was probably a consequence of your late night, but even when you had stayed up late before, you were never this sluggish. Usually, you walked at the front beside Kita, or with the coaches. It was rare for you to be at the back unless you wanted to annoy him, which evidently was not the case this time. “I didn’t voluntarily choose to accompany you.”

“Leave me then,” you snapped, eyes narrowing in a glare, your scent suddenly spiking. He let out a grumble, releasing some of his pheromones in the air to soothe you. Suna hated being on omega duty, one of the reasons why he was glad you usually opted to walk at the front.

“You know I can’t just leave you,” he sighed, placing a hand on the small of your back to urge you forward. “The sooner we get to the gym, the sooner you can leave me and sit on the bench.”

That caused you to perk up somewhat, which also had the effect of pulling your scent back to its’ ordinary level. Your scent may have regulated, but the ache in your body persisted, each movement making you fight back a wince. It was with gritted teeth that you sat on the bench, and pulled your clipboard towards you. Suna gave you one last assessing look before beginning to warm up.

Your gaze was unfocused as you stared down at the words you had written on the page. They swam in front of your gaze, coming apart and then joining again in dizzying confusion. As you stared, you found your mind wandering, nose twitching as you found yourself seeking out any scent that felt comforting, felt familiar. Your head snapped up from the clipboard, falling on a pile of discarded jackets. From the pile, and wafting towards you in the air, was Atsumu’s rich scent that made you recall moments where you were held in his arms and shielded from the rain, Osamu’s that brought forward memories of laughing in the kitchen and collaborating on random food creations, and Kita’s that filled you with comfort, reminding you of his quite support.

Before you could process what you were doing, you were moving towards the pile, hand clutching the first jacket you found. You buried your nose into the material, breathing in Atsumu’s scent, a soft whine escaping your lips. Your own team, too engrossed in warming up, missed the sound. It did, however, attract the attention of the team on the other side of the net.

You were unaware of the sudden, and unwanted, attention, shrugging off your jacket and pulling on Atsumu’s. You turned your head into the collar, taking in a deep breath. Though the scent satisfied you emotionally, the joy at being wrapped in Atsumu’s scent, caused you to release your own pheromones, made you feel slightly dizzy. A sudden spiking heat rushed through you, and a quiet ‘shit’ slipped from your lips. Hurriedly, you began to head towards the exit, keeping your head ducked and trying desperately to stop sending pulse after pulse of pheromones into the gym. You figured that, once you were safely in the confines of the bus, you could send a message to one of the coaches, apologising for having to leave and explaining that your heat had suddenly started.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist, causing you to come to a jolting stop. The owner of the hand yanked you back into his chest and you let out a surprised squeak. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him as he let out a pleased hum. His nose ran along the scent gland at your neck, making you stiffen suddenly. Fear made you kick out, knocking against one of his teammates who was standing beside him.

“Get off me,” you panted, weakly thrashing in his grip, a sharp and bitter scent escaping from you. Across the gym, Atsumu and Osamu’s heads snapped in your direction. “Just want to leave. Need to leave.”

Twin growls ripped through the gym, sending shivers down the spines of many people in attendance, including the male currently holding you. All you could feel was relief. He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with the furious twins. Their fury had caught the attention of the rest of Inarizaki, who all suddenly stood to attention.

“No need to be aggressive,” chuckled the male, though he made no move to release you. “I was just going to take care of this omega.”

“Like fuck ya are,” spat Atsumu, lunging forward and grabbing the male by the back of his shirt. His eyes were dark, expression twisted as another growl ripped from his throat.

“Get the fuck away from her,” growled Osamu, who had taken the distraction Atsumu provided to step in front of the male. The rest of his teammates had wisely backed off. One who had been about to pull Atsumu away had been stopped by Kita, his grip tight as he had pulled the man away by his shoulder. Despite the warning, the male’s arm remained around you. Despite Atsumu at his back and Osmau at his front, he had the nerve to push his nose against your scent gland and breathe you in deeply. A nervous whimper escaped your mouth, all Osamu and Atsumu needed for any last bit of restraint they had to evaporate. He muttered darkly, “I gave you a warning.”

Osamu’s hand curled around the male’s wrist, yanking it upwards harshly and twisting. His other arm went to catch you, pulling you away as Atsumu finally snapped. His arm wrapped around the male’s throat, his muscles prominent as he tightened his grip, crushing his windpipe. It was clear Osamu was frustrated too, eager to leap at the male. Yet, you were beside him, looking up at him with fear, and his first instinct was to protect you. He pulled his gaze away from the scene in front of him, scanning the gym until he finally found Kita. Kita was already walking towards you, anger prominent in the lines of his body. He took you from Osamu, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and snuggle your head into the crook of his neck as he held you. Kita left Osamu with a nod, giving permission the other man had not needed, but appreciated, to attack the male who had harassed you. He would let the coaches break it apart. Right now, you were his concern.

Kita walked from the gym, heading towards the bus. It was fortunate he was always prepared. Though he was certain you would be responsible enough to bring your own, he had packed heat suppressors in the buses emergency kit just in case. You let out a soft whine, hands curling into the material of his shirt.

“Atsumu… Osamu… Are they okay?” you questioned, needing to know. Kita let out a comforting purr, coupled with a release of soothing pheromones. The scent wafted around you, easing your racing heart, though it did little to cut through the haze of your heat.

“They’re fine,” he reassured, hand rubbing a soothing circle into your back before he placed you gently on a seat in the bus. You wrapped your arms around yourself, nose immediately pressing against the inside collar of the jacket, breathing in Atsumu’s scent deeply.

“Want the twins,” you whimpered. It was normal for you to want to be close to them. You had been with them since you were born, the three of you inseparable as soon as you were able to toddle. It was their scents that made up the majority of your nest, with the occasional addition of something Kita or Suna or another member of the team had scented.

Kita ignored your comment in favour of grabbing the heat suppressants from the bag. He turned towards you, grabbing a water bottle from where the spares were kept. Deciding it might be better for you, more peaceful and less painful, he also decided to include a sleeping pill. Kita handed them to you. “Have these. It’s heat suppressants and a sleeping pill.”

He watched as you took the medicine, carding his fingers through your hair affectionately. He gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze, “I’ll be back, along with the twins, when the match is finished.”

You nodded, barely registering his words as you let sleep overtake you.

When you woke up, strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you against a chest. You snuggled into the warmth, letting the distinct scent of Atsumu wash over you. Fingers stroked your hand softly, tracing its shape before sliding between your own. Your hand was lifted up, soft lips pressed against it before a face nuzzled into your palm. Sleepily, you looked up, blinking up at the twins. Even in your half-awake state, you could see the slight bruising that peppered their skin. Despite it being two-against-one, the male had landed a few solid hits before the coaches got involved.

“You’re awake,” cheered Atsumu, brushing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingers ran up and down your back, sliding beneath his jacket and your t-shirt to rest against your bare skin. Osamu gave a small cheer as well, a warm smile overtaking his features as he gazed down at you. That warm smile didn’t stop him from scolding you, something you were expecting from Kita and not him.

“And an idiot for not realising you were starting your heat,” he said, reaching over to give your hair an affection ruffle.

“We always know when our ruts are so you should know when your heats are,” chimed in Atsumu, ignoring the weak punch to his chest that you gave him with the hand not being held in Osamu’s.

“That’s because I always remind you,” you grumbled in response, though your anger was short-lived. The pheromones they were pumping out were so distracting any emotion but bliss was hard to feel, let alone hold onto.

“Considering how long you’ve known each other,” said Suna, deciding to add his two pence to the conversation, “I would’ve thought you two dumbasses would know what her pre-heat symptoms are.”

“You’re her friend too,” protested Atsumu, the only thing stopping him from engaging in a fall-blown argument was you in his lap. “Maybe you should have realised.”

“I did realise,” smirked Suna. In a quieter voice, he continued, “I just thought she was tired.”

“Can you all shut up?” snapped Aran, to which Kita was quick to agree, explaining that you would appreciate the peace and quiet.

That put a stop to any argument that could have broken out, both of the twins refocusing on you. Osamu resumed lazily playing with your fingers, while Atsumu nuzzled into your neck, rubbing his face against your scent gland. You let out a content sigh, finding comfort in their touch and the scents of the team wafting around you.

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