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clanoffetts · 3 years

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Like Real People Do, Chapter 1

Jango Fett x Kyra Esson (fem!OC)

meet Kyra here

series summary: Kyra Esson, a pilot trying to forget her past, takes Jango Fett up on an offer. It's supposed to be her last hurrah before she settles down, but she can't seem to leave the bounty hunter, no matter how hard they both try.

word count: 1.6k

warnings/tags: swearing; yearning; slow burn; fluff; uh oh jango catches feelings; eventual smut (but not for awhile); severe misunderstanding of Slave I’s layout

series masterlist (coming soon)

The cantina is dark and dirty, the bass of the music making the ground vibrate and glasses shake on tables. Kyra is uncomfortable, too many people, too many dark corners, too much.

Her left hand reaches to the leather strap of her back, holding it tight, while the other rests on her holster that sits high on her right thigh. The only open spaces are seats at the bar, so Kyra wills herself forward through the thick of the crowd. The bar seats are worn, the leather of the round cushion is cracked and faded, and when she sits it is almost as if there was no cushion at all.

“Do you have Port in a Storm here?” Kyra asks the bartender, her smooth voice raised atop the music.

The bartender, a Mirialin man, laughs. “You want Port in a Storm?” He looks at a man sitting two seats down, and calls to him, “She wants Port in a Storm, can you believe it? The nerve of some girls!”

The man is clad in silver armor, accented in blue, maybe purple, Kyra isn’t sure which in the dim lighting of the cantina. He’s wearing a helmet, Mandalorian by the looks of it. He turns his head to look at Kyra, studies her for a moment and shrugs at the bartender.

“Port in a Storm, do you have it or not?”

The man nods, pulling out a bottle of the liquid and pouring some into a short glass. “Now let’s see you drink it.”

Kyra’s face doesn’t change as she lifts the glass to her lips, tilts the red liquid into her mouth and swallows it down. It tastes like home, for better or worse. Kyra isn’t sure which. No matter, she sets the glass back down on the bar, motioning for more.

“I think we have a native Pamarthen on our hands,” the bartender says to the Mandalorian, who seems as though he couldn’t care less. “Am I right?”

“Obviously,” Kyra says, quite obviously annoyed. The man can’t take a hint. “Now pour me another before I do it myself.”

She downs another glass of the strong alcohol before dropping credits by the glass, gripping her bag, and squeezing her way back through the people gathered around a DJ.

Kyra beelines for the Barloz-class freighter in the hangar across the busy street. Her black hair is shiny in the moonlight as her legs move quickly across the hot sand. It was supposed to get cold on Tatooine at night, she thought, but her cloak was lazily shoved into her bag when she felt the hot, dry Tatooine air earlier that night. She wished he had it around her now, especially shielding her face, as the gusts of wind pick up sand that scratches at her skin.

Almost there , she tells herself as she winds through the open hallways of the hangar building. Ah, there she is, the large silver and green Barloz-class medium freighter that had barely squeezed into the small hangar.

“Wouldn’t expect this bulky thing from a Pamarthen,” says a gravelly voice.

Kyra pulls her blaster from the holster on her thigh, whipping around to aim at the source of the voice. It’s the same Mandalorian from the bar, his armor gleams in the moonlight. The accents are blue, Kyra notes, as she trains her blaster at the T-shaped visor. “The fuck do you want?”

“Put away your blaster,” the man says, holding his hands up. “I simply wish to pick your brain.”

Kyra lowers her blaster, but keeps it gripped in her hands, pointing the barrel at the ground. “What?”

“You’re from Pamarthe,” he says. It isn’t a question, and his tone suggests that that’s all the information she should need.

“And?”

“I have questions,” the man says. “About Pamarthe.”

Kyra’s eyes narrow. “Then ask them.”

“Can we board your ship?”

“No,” Kyra says, careful to keep her voice strong and steady. “Ask them here or not at all.”

The man finally gives up with a sigh. “I need to make a deal,” he says. “I need a native Pamarthen to pilot a watercraft. I have a bounty on your world, but I couldn’t pilot a Pamarthen watership like a native.”

“Then why’d you take the bounty?”

A noise comes from the vocoder, Kyra thinks it’s some kind of laugh that’s been mangled by the tech. “Overestimated myself.”

“How much will you pay me?” Kyra thinks about the minimal credits left in her account after buying the new water tank for the ship and the boots she finally splurged on from her trip to Naboo.

“How does fifteen thousand credits sound?”

It takes all of Kyra’s strength to keep her jaw from hitting the ground. Ten thousand credits would keep her comfy for a while. “If you have fifteen thousand to spare, why take a bounty? I know there’s no one worth much more than that on Pamarthe.”

“That is for me to know,” the Mandalorian says. “Do we have a deal?”

“Maybe,” Kyra says. “I will find you in the morning, Mandalorian, when I have made a decision.”

He gives a curt nod, turns on his heel, and stalks from the hangar. Odd, Kyra thinks, but maybe that’s how all Mandalorians are. That’s what the stories suggest, anyway.

The lights on the floor of the ship light up as Kyra boards, the ramp closing behind her. The gurgle of the water tank is a welcome noise as Kyra heads for the ‘fresher, desperate for a proper shower rather than a sonic one. She strips from the green wool cropped wrap that helps to bind her breasts in place. Then, the fabric strips that wrap around her wrists, holding her sleeves against her skin, a measure against the Tatooinian sand- it was no use. When the undershirt comes off, a layer of sand still coats her pale skin, the granules would leave scratches, no doubt. The cheap sports bra is shed next, followed by her boots and leggings, all joining the sweat-soaked, sand-coated pile of garments off to the side.

Kyra reaches for the entangled braids that sit at the base of her skull, freeing them from their pins, then their ties, and finally unweaves the two thick, black braids that were held tightly against her scalp.

Finally, Kyra steps into the shower. The water is nothing more than lukewarm, a heater is an unnecessary luxury for now, but the cool water provides refuge from Tatooine’s heat. The soap is unscented, leaving Kyra’s skin and hair the same way. Her skin turns red from the scratching of the coarse washcloth she drags along her flesh, rubbing against the sand in an awful sensation.

If this is their cold, she thinks, I’d hate to see what Tatooine calls hot. The white towel that matches the washcloth is snatched from a hook on the shower’s door. Kyra wipes her body dry in silence, the only sound is the water droplets falling from the shower’s surfaces and the water tank already working on purifying and recycling the water she just used.

In the small mirror on the fresher's wall, Kyra stares into her own eyes. Storm eyes, that’s what people on Pamarthe had called them, the cloudy gray of her irises looking like the sky during the rain season. She’d been jealous of the kids with ocean eyes, for the myths and stories say that true Pamarthens have eyes that reflect the surface of their oceanic homeworld. The children with green and brown eyes were accused of actually being from Kashyyyk or Endor, and the few lucky children with an alien parent to be born with a red tint in their irises had Port in a Storm eyes, the supposed sign of a Pamarthen pilot that could do anything, withstand anything. Parents did their best to dispel the stories, reassuring their children that they, too, can withstand anything despite something as minuscule as their eye color.

Kyra didn’t know of any storm worlds, only of rain seasons that were despised by many planets. And that’s what she felt, staring into the mirror, into her own storm. Her shoulders shake with a shiver, snapping her from her memories and into the present, into the tiny ‘fresher of the Barloz.

Red marks covered Kyra’s skin, tiny scratches from the sand are prominent against the veins that shine through what a Rodian on Jedda had called ‘paper skin’. In the right light, Kyra looked as though she was fitted with wires like a protocol droid, with her veins so visible underneath her ghostly skin that had always refused to tan. Nothing’s wrong with her, the doctors had said.

Folded neatly on the foot of the bed is a pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt. The sweatpants are a bit much for the weather, Kyra thinks, but they’ll do. The towel around her body moves up to encompass her long hair, twisting up to sit at the crown of her head to dry while she sits and analyzes her datapad.

“Ten thousand credits,” she murmurs to herself, looking over tables of numbers detailing expenses of necessities and luxuries. “What could I do with ten thousand credits?”

The answer should be clear: find a hut in the middle of nowhere and wait out her days, but she’s too restless . No matter how hard Kyra tries to close the blast doors on that side of herself and shoot the control panel so she could never access it again, it never works, something malfunctions, and she finds herself in a cockpit. And that’s what she’s doing again, with this Mandalorian and his offer. It’s too good to pass up, Kyra thinks. And she’s doing it again, telling herself this is the last job, it’s simply too good to pass up and she’ll settle after this one, because surely nothing would top this job. Just like nothing could top the job for Hondo, and, yeah, Cid’s topped Hondo’s, but nothing would top Cid’s job, except Mando’s offer, so why not accept Mando’s offer? Surely nothing could top it.

#posting and running #jango fett fanfiction #jango fett x oc

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ridetherain · 3 years

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New Year

Omg I wrote fluff. Who even am I.

Rating: T

Words: 2323

Summary: Link and Zelda go to a new year's festival in Link's hometown.

New Year

"Come on, Link! You need to join the archery competition!" Zelda stage-whispered into Link's ear. "I'm sure they'll let you join."

She had her face turned away from Link and was looking directly at the innkeeper, Pagho, who was taking down names for various competitions for the new year.

"We agreed that it was unfair for me to join any combat competitions," Link said shortly.

"We agreed that it was unfair for you to join swordplay competitions," Zelda clarified, "Besides, archery is more of a hunting competition. Come on. You've been a stick in the mud all day long. This is the last competition before the sun goes down."

Zelda's loud whispers and unblinking stare had caught the attention of Stad and Okil. Both men were stringing bows and listening unashamedly. They ambled over with a faux-casual air.

"So, Link," Stad said, "Are you going to join us or not. I know you pulled the Sword, but surely that doesn't make you a better shot."

"Or are you worried about your soldier training?" Okil asked, "I know you were stationed as an archer at Fort Hateno before you got all high and mighty. Maybe we should make this more of a challenge for our resident knight."

Link just gave the two a sour look. Zelda beamed at the backup and rushed over to Pagho to sign him up while he wasn't paying attention.

"You'll want to show off a little," Okil continued in a low voice, "You would hate to have your lady friend's head turned by another man. She's the most beautiful woman ever to visit this village. Every man here is waiting for you to mess up."

Link's frown got deeper.

"Including us," Stad said, "If that's what Castle Town women look like, then I think I'll have to find my way to the capitol as well."

"You're free to go to Castle Town. Hylia is out of your league." Link said.

"I don't see how you have time to meet women while guarding the Princess all day," Stad retorted. "I could find a beautiful woman too!"

Zelda picked that moment to march back to the three men.

"You're all signed up!" She exclaimed, "I worked it all out with Mister Pagho. You'll have an appropriately difficult challenge for your skill level."

She waved her hand in the air to brush off Link's grunted disagreement.

"It's too late to complain now; he's already written your name on the board."

Link just huffed a little and glared once more at the group at large before turning to the small weapon rack full of hunting bows. He chose a bow but left his soldier's issue weapon strapped to his back. He wasn't going to use his advantages in the competition, but he also wasn't going to disarm even partially. Zelda was still the Princess even in disguise, and he was the only guard in attendance at his hometown festival.

While Link turned his back, Zelda winked conspiratorially at Okil and Stad. She shooed the two off towards Pagho with a wave.

"I think you'll do well!" Zelda said to Link, "It will be good practice for the Farore's Day tourny in a few weeks. I know you've signed up for those competitions."

"The Farore's Day tournament is an exposition of skill among Hyrule's soldiers and knights. I will be competing against my peers." He tested the weight of the bow he selected.

"Archery competitors, listen up!" Pagho shouted over the crowd's chatter. "Find your ladies and get a good luck kiss before you line up!"

The crowd laughed and started jeering at the suddenly nervous group of men. A few wives and sweethearts came up for a little kiss, and one man swept his wife into a dip and gave her a lingering kiss to a great cheer from the crowd. Zelda was shoved forward by Pagho. She stumbled and tripped into the group. Link recovered from surprise fast enough to catch her. He helped her back to her feet with red cheeks.

"Ignore them," he whispered in her ear.

Zelda smiled good-naturedly and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Good luck, Hero."

She had a bit of mischief in her voice. When Link turned, deeply crimson, to the targets, he realized why.

There was a line of nine round archery targets about thirty yards away. They were good targets for men used to hunting in the forest. On one end, there was a tenth that was covered partially by fabric. Nails pinned the fabric carefully around the edges, leaving a much smaller and much narrower target in the shape of the master sword. Pagho had also placed the mark a good twenty feet further back. Not as far as the typical tournament distance, but easily far enough to provide a challenge when combined with the odd and very narrow shape.

Zelda met Link's look of reproach with an innocent smile.

Link took his place at the sword target in line with the other men and pulled an arrow from the cluster at his feet. Pagho gave the signal for the first shot. Link scuffed the ground with his back foot before settling into his stance. He stood upright and pulled the string back gently. He kept his breathing even and slow while he lined up the shot. He let the arrow fly and watched it shoot in a graceful arc to the Sword. It hit the target just to the right of dead center. The narrow shape meant that the arrow was closer to the mark's edge than the exact center. Link frowned.

Pagho called for the second arrow. Link scuffed the ground again and resettled his stance. He pulled back the arrow and let it fly when he exhaled. It sored to the target and embedded itself into the exact center of the Sword bullseye. Link gave the shot a short nod of approval before picking up his final arrow. The last two arrows didn't have the speed that this arrow did, and it clipped the edge of his second arrow before digging its way deep into the straw.

Link rolled his shoulders back and glanced down the line at his competition. Stad was a terrible shot. His target only had two arrows in it. Okil's was much better with all three arrows sticking out and two near the bullseye. Several of the remaining competitors shot at least one bullseye, and a stocky man at the opposite end got all three clustered in a tight group just north of his bullseye.

"It looks like our clear winner is our local knight and the Hero of Hyrule!" Pagho shouted to the crowd. He yanked Link forward and dropped an antler crown on his head. The rough headpiece was little more than two antlers lashed together with leather; it matched the winners of the other six competitions of the day. Link slouched his way into the lineup of winners to the cheers of the townspeople. They all stood around, clapping each other on the shoulders, peacocking for the crowd, and arguing good-naturedly.

"Let's give our winners a cheer!" Pagho shouted, and the crowd roared in approval. "And let's get this party going!"

The band took Pagho's words as their cue to start playing a rousing jig, and young women of the town pulled the seven men to the makeshift dancefloor next to the cookpots. A pretty redhead pulled Link along behind her and convinced him to swing her around in a familiar country dance. Link could see Zelda following the blacksmith to the floor as well and tripping over the novel peasant steps. She was elegant and sophisticated compared to the villagers. The dark umber of the hair dye they had used for her disguise gave her a dim glow instead of the bright shining light that usually surrounded her. She was still the most beautiful thing Link had ever seen.

Link danced with what felt like every woman in the town. In between dances, his partners offered him food and drinks. He slowly became more relaxed and began to enjoy the party. His head was getting a little fuzzy, and his body warm from all of the drinks while Zelda charmed her way through each unfamiliar dance.

"Your lady friend is charming." Pagho poured two drinks and handed one to Link. "You ought to dance with her. She keeps looking at you. She's going to give up on you soon if you don't go for it."

"She's not my lady friend. She's just an acquaintance from Castle Town. We're just friends."

"Maybe you're just friends, but that girl is sweet on you." Pagho was talking far too loudly. "She's been singing your praises all day to anyone who will listen."

Link did his best to keep his face from turning red again. "She's just kind. Excuse me."

Link downed his drink and walked away from the conversation as quickly as possible. He went over to where Zelda was chatting with Stad to ask her to dance. Not because Pagho told him to. He was just in the mood for another dance, and he wanted to be a good host.

But, Stad took her hand before he got to her and pulled her onto the dance floor. Link found another drink and sipped it while he waited his turn. Then Zelda switched partners to another man. Then another, then Okil, then that first blacksmith again.

"Looks like you missed your chance." Pagho swung past him with his wife. "Better hurry. There's only one more dance before midnight."

Link was pretty tipsy at this point.

He sat down on a bench and tried to come to terms with the fact that he was jealous of the blacksmith. He did want to dance with Zelda. More than that, he wanted Zelda to want to dance with him. But, she was more interested in literally any other man at this festival. They had barely even spoken after the dancing started.

He was wallowing in self-pity when the object of his thoughts plopped down next to him. The energetic dancing had left a pleasant flush on Zelda's face, and her skin had a light sheen of sweat. Link tried not to imagine her looking like this in his house without prying eyes.

"Would you like to dance?" She asked.

"Yes," he said much too quickly. Then his brain caught up, and he flushed to the tips of his ears. "I mean... yes..."

Zelda took his hand and led him to the dance floor. The musicians took up a slow ballad to end the old year. It was a sweet song that was far too intimate for a dance with a Princess. Link tried to think of Zelda as Hylia, a ladies maid from Castle Town, rather than his future sovereign. She placed his hand on her waist and took up his free hand in hers. Link tried to pull himself together and started the steps to a court dance she would know.

She beamed at him. "I didn't know you could do my court dances! I would have been dancing with you all night instead of making a fool of myself trying to learn new ones."

Link's heart skipped a beat.

"You seemed to be having fun. "

"Yes, I've had a good time. Thank you for letting me stay. I know I shouldn't have just shown up on your time off." Zelda looked down at her feet even though Link knew she had all of the steps by heart.

"I'm always happy to have you around, Zel. You're my friend, and I love spending time with you."

Now it was Zelda that couldn't keep the red from her face. She tried to turn her head to keep him from seeing, but Link took the motion as an invitation to pull her a little closer.

"I love spending time with you too. Getting to know you has been an adventure," Zelda's voice was a little muffled by his tunic. He wished she would look up so he could see her expression. "I hope that it's an adventure that keeps going."

"I don't have any more secrets, Princess. You know more about me than I do."

"Well, you'll have to work to surprise me, then," Zelda said with a smile in her voice. The song was coming to a close, so she began to pull away from him. He wouldn't let her go. They stopped with the music, and she finally turned her face up to his again.

He steeled himself. She looked content and expectant and nervous. He was nervous too, and if he hadn't had three more drinks than necessary, he probably wouldn't even be thinking about what he was about to do. He would almost certainly regret it in the morning when he considered his career trajectory and the effect on their friendship and his plans for not dying of a beheading.

Their lips touched.

Zelda sighed into the kiss, and Link could feel her hands slowly run down from his shoulder to grasp at the front of his tunic. He leaned back and took a ragged breath before capturing her lips again. His hands pressed against her back to keep her body against his own as tightly as possible. Each point of contact was a new shock of electricity to his system. Link thought that the moment couldn't get any better until she let out a small whimper. The sound made him forget everything around them. Her title was gone, their circumstances are gone, the village was gone.

She pulled away.

"Take me back to your house," He couldn't deny her anything when she spoke with that breathy voice full of need.

Link dove in for one last kiss before leading her by the hand through the crowd. They slipped away from the party quickly before running, laughing, up the hill to his house.

#zelink #loz #botw #rain works

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jinmindeulle · 4 years

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crowned ∣ jwy (5)

whatever it takes

word count: 1.7k

genre: royalty au, prince!wooyoung x dressmaker!reader ∣ angst, fluff

warnings: minor swearing

a/n: if you want to be in the tag list so that you don’t miss the updates, just comment down below and i’ll happily add you! ♥

last part before the epilogue! enjoy!

Hours go by without me noticing. Crying consumes a lot of time, apparently.

The wedding ceremony was supposed to start at 6 p.m, so by now, Wooyoung and that lady should already be husband and wife, and must be heading out of the small church that the palace had in order to start the actual party in the building’s ballroom.

As I wait for it to be over, I let the last tears go down my face. I take a look at the room that has been my chamber for about three years, recalling beautiful memories and hard times spent there.

My eyes land on a picture hanging by the window, and I frown because I must have forgotten to pack it inside my cardboard boxes. I wipe away the last fallen tears and make my way towards it to unhook it so I can just shove it inside my backpack.

Well, maybe I shouldn’t have.

It’s my favorite picture. Wooyoung and I are grinning at the camera like a pair of kids, going out of the palace’s lake on an extremely hot summer evening. His — at that time — dark hair was soaked wet, visible drops falling from it. His suit was glued to his slender and perfect figure, because neither of us had wanted to get rid of our clothes, the only thing remaining in land being our shoes. I, on the other hand, had refused to leave the fresh water, and the only parts of my body that could be seen were my head and one of my hands making the peace sign. San had taken that picture, because he didn’t want to go inside due to his recently dyed hair.

I smile nostalgically at the photograph, slowly caressing Wooyoung’s bright smiley face. I had wanted to make sure that that joyful expression stayed where it belonged for a long time, but that turned out to be harder that I actually thought would be.

A knock on my door takes me out of my own thoughts. I quickly shove the picture inside my backpack while shouting ‘Coming!’ to the person behind the hatch, who’s highly likely to be San.

After running away from Wooyoung, he came by and helped me calm down, promising to pick me up as soon as possible the following morning. San had also whispered in my ear that he was going to go back and check up on me from time to time while the wedding party was still going on, just to make sure that I was not drowning in my own tears.

With the best I’m-doing-perfectly-fine expression on my features — the best that I could bring myself to do, really — I opened the door.

“I’m doing go-“

“I didn’t do it”

My mouth forms a perfectly shaped ‘o’, and I just remain like this until he grabs my face with his hands and repeats his life changing statement.

“I didn’t do it, y/n”

“What?” I mutter, too shocked to ask or say something better.

“I couldn’t do it, so I just didn’t. I didn’t get married, y/n.” Wooyoung whispers against my lips, his breathtaking smile making a comeback.

“Wha-”

And he does it again.

He kisses me like it’s our last one. However, this time, he’s tougher, hungrier, desperate. He takes my lips with his as if I was about to fade away in any minute, trying to take from me as much as possible because I can just slip away from his arms.

I am too astonished to reciprocate the kiss, but I know he knows it too. Wooyoung breaks apart, gasping for air, but still smiling wide, a smile that actually reaches his beautiful eyes.

“How- “

“That kiss” he mutters, looking me in the eye. “You kissed me and told me that you loved me.”

“Yes, but I- “

“You lied to me back in the cottage. You said you didn’t love me that way. But you do” he laughs, pecking my lips once more. “And you mean to me more than anything in this world, so I just said ‘Fuck it’ and ran away from there to be with you, just like we should.”

“Please don’t interrupt me this time” I say, my voice muffled as a consequence of his hands on my cheeks. I take them away with my own, intertwining our fingers so that we don’t lose contact. “I do love you, Wooyoung. Don’t!” I plead as he’s about to interfere again. “Listen to me.”

“Okay” he cutely responds, nodding, and I just want to melt right there. But the number of questions I have around my head prevent me from doing it.

“I love you, but you can’t abandon your people. You and I both know that they are actually waiting for you to become King, because you’ll do an outstanding job. This kingdom needs a worthy, kind, generous ruler, and there’s no one like you to do it. No offence, but your Father has a lot to learn from you.”

Wooyoung lightly laughs, without taking his eyes off of mine.

“I know you do want to be the King you’re supposed to. So please, don’t do this. Running away from here is not an option, Woo.” I beg, trying not to make evident my sadness through my voice.

“I must interrupt you there, lady” he begins, taking my hands to his lips and leaving a soft kiss in each knuckle. “Because I am going to be King. But you’ll be my Queen.”

I had always thought that, sometimes, Wooyoung forgets that he lives in a kingdom with actual rules, that forbids people from doing certain things and prevents them from ending up in jail. One of those rules regards marriage between two individuals from different social backgrounds — that is, if one of them is either part of the royalty or the nobility and the other is not — as a law-breaking action.

So, a dressmaker plus a Prince, equals error. The end.

“Wooyoung, you know that that can’t actually happen.” I murmur. The hurt in my eyes must be evident at this point.

“It can now.” He grins.

My mouth hangs open once again, looking at him with wide, doe eyes. “Care to explain?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do since I came in here!” Wooyoung whines, pouting like he usually did when he saw me getting started with the Oreos before meeting him. His grip tightens around my fingers, as he skillfully closes my door with one of his feet. “Let’s sit down”

We quickly move to my bed, hands still together and thighs making as much physical contact as possible. His thumbs start caressing the back of my fingers as he begins his awaited explanation.

“I left the church right before having to say yes, trying not to look back at the girl whose name I still don’t remember.” My surprise must be clear by now, because he cutely laughs and uses one of his hands to get a hold of my chin and lift it up a little bit so no bug is able to enter my mouth. “Father followed me and some guards did as well, but he dismissed them when he saw me standing a few meters away from the gates, actually waiting for him.

I choked out that I couldn’t do it, and that I was never going to get married to her. I made him, and — I hope — the rest of the world know, that I was in love with you and that I’d run away if it was the only way of being with you. Just as I was screaming those words, my mom reached us too. I took advantage, knowing that she actually understands me, and I told them that I would stay and keep doing my job as the Prince and future King only if I was able to marry you.

Father said that I was crazy, that we needed that marriage. That the kingdom was going downhills without it. But then, San appeared out of nowhere. He confessed that he had heard us behind my chamber’s door, and that he knew for a fact that we were actually what this kingdom needed. No allies, no exchanges. Just you and me.

After hearing that my best friend had my back, mom had mercy on us. She gave dad a talk about them hating each other so much because of their arranged marriage. I had always known they didn’t like each other, but not that they felt hatred. She said that she wanted me to be happy no matter what, and that if what took for me to be happy was you, then she wanted it as well. And I quote, ‘Whatever it takes to see my baby smile’”

I chuckle, letting happy tears go down my face. Finally.

“That was what made Father agree. He promised me that he will be passing a law that allows royals to marry whoever they want, no nobility title needed. I just have to commit with the kingdom more. He wants me to be a part of the Royal Advisory Board in exchange, so that I can be fully prepared when the time comes for me to be in his place.

Y/n, we can get married and I can still rule with y-”

This time, is me who decides that no more explanations are needed. I throw myself onto him, finding his smiling lips on the way and pinning him to the mattress. My hands find the way to his cheeks, trying to deepen the kiss as much as I am able to, because I want, I need to show him how much I have wanted this. Wooyoung laughs at my desperation, but he’s no better than I am, because I feel his hands on my hips, slowly travelling all the way to my ass.

“Jung Wooyoung!” I gasp, the smile never leaving my face.

“What? You’re about to be my wife, darling. You can just admit that you’ve been waiting for me to do that since day one.” He smirks, pecking my lips and laughing at my reddened cheeks.

“Well, fuck it. Yes, I’ve been waiting for you to do that and a lot more since the moment I saw you. And I don’t care what you think of me.” I admit, replicating that smirk of his.

“I don’t judge you, baby. Because I’ve been wishing for the same.”

We both let out happy chuckles, leaning in to keep on doing what we do best.

Loving each other.

epilogue: ladybugs and oreos →

Here’s the fifth and last part of crowned ♥ but don’t worry, we have the epilogue left!

I can’t believe that all of you actually loved it so much!!

If you are reading this, thank you so much for being here, it means a lot to me ♥ Leave your comments, suggestions and ideas on the comments below!

Happy reading!

⇢ jinmindeulle

@ncitydreamies

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ladynestaarcheron · 4 years

Text

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Fifteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me)

what’s this?? a chapter for lpg, not 10 day after the last one?? bet your bottom dollar!!

thanks so much as always @thestarwhowishes!! and thanks to all my marvelous readers. i love you all so much. thanks for taking a chance on my weird maladaptive fantasy and sticking around<3

---

December 20 - Year of

Nesta hadn't realized Emerie's shop was closing for Solstice, and apparently, Emerie hadn't realized Nesta wasn't celebrating.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, eyebrows raised, as Nesta entered.

"Working."

"The Commander left last night."

"So? I'm not his keeper."

"You don't...you're not going for Solstice?" Emerie frowned, like she couldn't understand.

Nesta shrugged. "I did not grow up with this holiday. I don't care about it."

"But it's fun," Emerie said, bewildered.

Nesta rolled her eyes as she began rehanging coats. She certainly did not classify an hours-long sit-down meal with her sister's in-laws as fun. Last Solstice, in fact, was a contender for Least Fun Night of Her Life.

"Your sisters probably bought you presents," Emerie said, pestering, which was quite unlike her. It was this obsession with Solstice, this worshipping. Apparently, her employer was infected with it as well. "Don't you like presents?"

"I prefer to buy things myself," Nesta said. She never did get the point of surprises. If you chose something yourself you couldn't possibly be disappointed, which she told Emerie.

"You can ask for something."

"Why do you have to wait for Solstice, then?" Nesta said. "If you want something, just buy it. If you have money. And if you don't, you can't celebrate anyway."

"Solstice isn't just about gifts."

"I don't worship your gods," Nesta said carelessly, making her way behind the front desk. She rifled through some of the papers she had on file—they ought to start thinking about spring wear, if they wanted to stay ahead of everyone else. "We should order lighter wear in January. Start putting things on the racks in February. Judging by how much we've sold this month—"

"I'm not very devout," interrupted Emerie.

Nesta looked up from the papers. Emerie's dark eyes were unblinking, her brown face schooled in a different expression from her usual indifference.

"All right," Nesta said.

"I don't go to any temple on Solstice."

"Fine," Nesta said. She didn't care. She had never been to a temple in her life.

"I still celebrate."

"Fine," Nesta said again. "I think we should order lighterwear in January."

"You should come to mine for dinner tomorrow evening," Emerie said.

Nesta narrowed her eyes.

"I was just going to go to the bonfires," she said. "But we could have a proper dinner."

"You're not spending it with your mother?"

"No...I eat breakfast with her."

Eugh. Breakfast with the whole family. Nesta cannot imagine any day deemed worthy of waking up early and then immediately being barraged by people.

"Fine," she said. "Will you look at this? My predictions for February..."

Emerie wasn't religious, as she said. This wasn't a dinner of worship. Or insufferable so-called family—Emerie never pretended to be Nesta's adoptive sister. Just...someone whom she got along with.

That was fine. This wasn't...instead of something else. It was just dinner. She'd had dinner with Emerie before. Before...before she'd started having it with Cassian every night.

This was fine.

December 15 - 1 year after

Their beautiful new archivist walked like a queen: back straight, chin set, stormy grey eyes surveying all that she saw as if considering everything in her path. All that went away when she picked up a book to read, melting like sugarberry ice in the summer, and it was Zeyn's favorite way to see her.

Her posture changed. Nesta always stood like she had a broom tied to her spine—did it not hurt, he wondered, to be like that all the time?—and when she found herself a quiet corner of Sugar Books, she folded into herself, unaware of her surroundings. Sometimes she would even mindlessly tug on a lock of her hair, tug it right out of the precise braid, and it would curl downwards, playing on her lashes—

"You're staring at her again," Maz snickered.

Zeyn snapped his head back to the book he was supposed to be working on. "I am not."

"Hush, Maz," Leyla said. "He's in love. It's sweet."

"It's creepy."

"I am not in love with her. And keep your voice down," he added, lowering his own dramatically. He risked a glance towards Nesta. Whether she was ignoring them or truly couldn't hear, he could not tell.

He wasn't in love with her. He had only just met her. But how could he not stare? She was so perfectly beautiful. Like she hadn't been born, like she'd been expertly made, sculpted by gods.

"You only think she's beautiful because she's High Fae," Maz said, sounding a bit sour.

"That's ridiculous," Leyla said, cutting in before Zeyn could himself. "Nesta is beautiful. But don't worry, Maz, we think you are, too." She winked as she picked up her crate of books and left.

Maz's eyes followed her out of the room.

"I'm sure she meant it," Zeyn teased.

"Oh, shut up. Go back to staring at Nesta."

"I wasn't staring."

"Were so..."

There was no point in arguing. It sounded pathetic, and it felt it, too. But it didn't need to be that way, right?

"Oh, great, there he goes," Maz muttered under his breath as Zeyn stood. "Off to swoop in on the scary pregnant lady."

Zeyn sincerely hoped she hadn't heard that. Nesta didn't appear to like to talk about her pregnancy much. She didn't like to talk to anyone about anything much. She was private to the point of secrecy.

"Good book?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"It's all right," she replied, not looking up.

"Never did read any human-authored stuff much," he said. What was that flicker in her eye? "Maybe you could recommend some to me."

"That's my job."

He laughed. She didn't.

He cleared his throat. "So," he said, trying to find something else to talk about. "Are you excited for Solstice?"

That got her to look up. "You have Solstice here?"

He laughed. "Of course we do."

"No, I mean...the holiday?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we?"

Nesta looked back down. She closed her book, though. "They don't have it everywhere. In the Summer Court," she added. "They...only celebrate the one in the summer."

"Oh," Zeyn said. "Well...we like to celebrate whatever we can in Sugar Valley." He grinned. "I suppose you've already seen the list of Solstice festivities." Erest, the town councilhead, had been proud to announce it at last week's town meeting. He had hung it on the notice board at the inn, and she was still staying there—although not for much longer, he thought, as Adil definitely had some sort of plans to find her somewhere else.

"I have not," she said.

"Oh. Are you...going back for Solstice? To Prythian?" Perhaps, because she had not realized it was a holiday here as well, she had made plans to leave.

"No. I'm...I don't have anything planned." Something was sitting on the tip of her tongue, behind her red lips, pursed shut. But she didn't let it out.

"Well, you should come to one of the town's celebrations!" An idea clicked into his mind. "I mean, you'll have to come to ours, right?"

"Ours?"

"The Sugar Books celebration. We have a staff party. Solstice Eve."

No one did anything on the day before Solstice, did they? So when he announced to them that they all had to come and pretend like it wasn't only for Nesta, they wouldn't—well, Maz wouldn't be too cross. He doubted the rest of them would mind. Miri would probably even help him plan it.

"Oh. I didn't realize you were...so close."

"We are!" Well, they got along. For the most part. That was enough. "It'll be a lot of fun. You'll come?"

Nesta's eyes darted around the room. She smoothed her hands over her skirts—always a shade of grey, always modest. But not so form-hiding that he hadn't noticed the slight changes in her body over the past month or so. Early pregnancy flattered Nesta. "Sure," she said.

Zeyn bit back his broad grin, not wanting to scare her off. He couldn't stop the excited twitch of his ears, though.

December 21 - year of

This Solstice, Emerie thought, was shaping up to be even less festive than last, which was saying something, because only a few short months before that one, various males in her family had died on the front lines in the war against Hybern.

She had shared a quiet breakfast with her mother, who hadn't spoken too much. Mostly just shot her wary glances. Probably because of the demonic scent all over her.

And now she was preparing dinner to share with that demon.

She didn't blame her mother. Nesta's scent was sweet in the same warding way of venom. Any living being innately knew to stay away from it. And Nesta didn't exactly have a winning personality that encouraged otherwise.

But she did good things for her shop. Emerie liked her for that enough.

Nesta Archeron wasn't a bad person. She didn't deserve to have Solstice alone, even if she didn't celebrate it.

The hair on Emerie's neck prickled when she heard her short raps on the door, but she ignored them. She wasn't scared of her Other employee.

Emerie didn't have much finery, but she did make an effort on Solstice. She wore shoes that were prettier than they were sensible and her hemlines sparkled. A glittering pin kept her braid at the side of her head—her usual hairstyle, but the ornament was only ever worn a few times a year.

Nesta made no such changes to her wardrobe, but she didn't need to. She wore her hair in crown-like knots and braids every day and no matter how drab the grey she wore in her dresses, nothing could dull her beauty.

She had even, Emerie noted, filled out a bit in the weeks she had been here. Her frame, once pitifully thin, had sparked gossip when she had first arrived at camp. Emerie remembered hearing rumors about how the Commander did not feed the High Lady's terrifying sister...

"Happy Solstice," Emerie said.

Nesta grimaced.

Emerie turned so Nesta wouldn't see her roll her eyes. "Wine?" she said, looking over her shoulder.

Nesa's jaw clenched. Her eyes closed. "No," she gritted.

All right, then. Emerie thought perhaps it would be better if she didn't have any, either. She put the bottle down and said, "Don't suppose you saw any of the shows last night." Some of the males put them on—flips and tricks, flying through the air.

"No."

"Neither did I," she said, and she couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. That was another thing she liked about Nesta Archeron. She genuinely did not care about anything Emerie's people did. She hadn't liked it at first, but now, seeing her disdain for some of the most respected people in the camps, the absolute apathy she had for the cruel ones who mocked females like her on what was supposed to be a sacred day...

Well. She supposed she had a few reasons to be glad Nesta had decided to enter her shop the day she wandered around their camp alone.

December 18 - 4 years after

It takes an enormous amount of power to winnow all the way across the sea, so on the agreed-upon date, Feyre is to fly to Sugar Valley. Along with her husband.

Things have been much better with her sister over the past month—both of her sisters, actually. Feyre has visited a few times, and Elain came to stay for a whole week. The children had loved that, as Cassian had also managed to spend a few days then.

But she has still not seen Rhysand since that day in September five years ago.

She assumes they—Rhysand and Morrigan—will summon the strength they need to mind themselves in her presence. She doesn't ask for much. Only quiet.

Nicky bounces with excitement all morning, rattling off to Ollie a list of all the things they're going to do "across the sea", courtesy of the stories his aunts and father have spent the past few weeks filling his head with. Avery keeps tapping Nesta's legs and asking when they're going to leave.

Nesta lets them amuse themselves, for the most part, as she double—and triple-checks their bags. Presents for the children that she was instructed to take and keep as surprise until Solstice evening by various townsfolk (some for her as well), clothes, medication for Ollie's lungs—he hasn't needed it in a while, but it never hurt to have it along—some favorite toys, books, the purple cup Avery needs, jars of jam...

All of this, of course, to keep herself busy. Until half past ten, when she hears the knock on her door.

Steeling herself is not particularly easy to do with her children's cries of "I want to open the door!" chorusing around her, but she manages.

Nicky gets there first. He lifts his chubby hand high above his head to reach the doorknob and throws himself at Feyre when he sees her.

"Hey!" she says, laughing as she catches him. "Oh, hello to you, too, Ava!" For Ava has also launched herself at her aunt.

Ollie stays safely behind her legs. He had been excited to see Feyre, but Rhysand, standing behind her, throws him off. He looks up at her, and she smiles down at him reassuringly.

"This is your uncle, Rhys!"

Nesta cannot stop her lip from curling upward. She might deny the relation on her side, but Cassian obviously has not on his.

"Hello," he says, smiling along with Feyre. "Nicky, and Ava...hello, Nesta. You're looking well."

"Hmm."

"And you must be Ollie," Rhys says, bending to his knee, to meet him at eye-level. "Hi. I'm Rhys."

Ollie looks up at Nesta again.

"It's all right," she says to him quietly. "But you can stay with me."

Nesta pulls Avery and Nicky into a hug and tells them she'll see them soon. Rhys holds onto two of their bags and then swoops the pair of them into his arms. With a nod at Nesta, he disappears.

"Ready, Ollie?" Feyre asks him, picking him up and holding him close to her chest.

He nods against her and leans on her shoulder. Nesta grabs the other bags and links her arm in her sister's.

"Let's go."

And they do.

It is, as usual, a most disorienting experience, and Nesta loses her sense of self for a few moments, but Avery's laughing voice brings her back.

She sees Cassian first, holding Ava and Nicky. Ollie squirms out of Feyre's arms to run to him, too.

She feels an arm on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Nesta?"

"Fine," she says to Feyre.

They're in her home, the third one, on the banks of the Sidra. One of the living rooms. Nesta recognizes the stained glass windows, the midnight blues—and, of course, the painted pictures of everyone. Herself excluded, obviously.

She remembers when Feyre had shown her the house. She hadn't mentioned the original Archeron decor, but she hadn't needed to. It had been impossible not to notice, and it still is. Had she expected her to say anything? To ask why?

Perhaps it had bothered her then, but it doesn't now. Nesta has her own house. Contrary to what her sister believes, not everyone you know by blood or happenstance needs to hold an intimate place in your heart, a spot of honor on your walls.

"Nesta? Are you sure you're all right?"

Nesta looks up at Cassian. His smile from seeing the triplets has dimmed. "I'm fine." She clears her throat. "Where can I put our things?"

"Oh, well, actually...we'll take a carriage."

She could swear Cassian bites his lip—in nervousness?

"All right," she says, giving a little shrug. The townhouse doesn't include much better memories than this place, but she guesses it'll be better. At least they'll have their own place, at least she won't have to be around all of them for the whole time. "Let's go."

Feyre and Rhysand help them bring their things down where the carriage is waiting for them.

"We're all the way across the sea, Mummy!" Nicky exclaims, rushing to clasp her hand in his.

"We are, angel."

"And we're...we came the whole way!"

"The whole way."

"For Solstice!"

"Mm-hm," Nesta says, keeping an eye on Avery pulling Ollie along.

"Where are we going now?"

"We're going to take a short ride," she says, lifting him up into the carriage. "Now you Avery—yes, sit tight. We're going to take a short ride to where we'll be staying."

"Where are we staying?"

"With our aunts?"

"No, we'll—"

"Actually," Cassian cuts in, placing Ollie in, "we're going to my house."

Nesta gives him a sharp glance, but he doesn't meet her eye as he helps her in.

"I didn't know you bought a house here," she says, low so the children can't hear her.

"Yeah, I...I mean, do you want to stay at the townhouse? That's empty now."

"No, no, I'm sure yours is fine. I mean. Is it—have you—?"

"Yeah, yeah, I've got beds for them...and you...and there's...I think you'll like it. Close to a park."

No matter how low they talk, all three of them pick up on that.

"We're going to play in the park?"

"Are our aunts coming too?"

"All right," Nesta says, a bit loudly, over them all. "We're going to go to Appa's house first and eat lunch and get settled and then we'll go to the park."

She hides a smile at their answering cheers.

"Where is it?" she asks Cassian.

"Near the Rainbow."

She doesn't particularly like the hustle and bustle of Velaris' city center. Too many people, too loud. Sugar Valley residents can be plenty loud, sure, and all the forgotten gods know that town meetings can be ridiculously stifling, but there are not so many people that Nesta does not know them all by face if not by name.

But she sees the house—Cassian's house—is not too close to the Rainbow. In fact, it's closer to the Sidra. A nice bank, shallow waters. There are some families with small children playing there.

It's styled like most of the houses in Velaris—in fact, it looks a bit similar to the townhouse. She likes the novelty of her blue-boarded house in Sugar Valley, but the maple brown of this one is nice, too.

"Here we are," Cassian says, getting out first, to help them all down. He takes the bags in one hand and Ollie in his other. "Let's go."

The sparsely-decorated inside reminds her a bit of his home in Illyria, but perhaps with a bit more child-proofing done. There are no sharp edges in his living room; the chairs and tables are all rounded, so she doesn't stop the children from rushing off to explore the rooms on the top floor.

"Wow," Nesta says, looking around.

"Do you like it?"

She peers in through a doorway. "You have a proper dining room." She's not jealous. She loves her home. Just...she wishes she had one. It might be nice, one day, when the children are older.

"I haven't got much for it yet."

"I can see that." Beige appears to be the predominant color, which is...interesting. "Why...were you waiting for my sister's Solstice gifts? To match the decor to?" Feyre gives them all paintings every year—or at least, she used to.

Cassian laughs. "No, I was hoping...well, I don't know. I've never decorated a house before."

"You realize how insane that is?" she asks him. "You're nearly six hundred years old."

"I'm not nearly six-hundred years old..." he trails off. They've had this conversation countless times—teasing, gentle, mostly. And then one time, very much not.

"So," he says, clearing his throat. "This is the ground floor. Living room...dining room...kitchen...do you like the cabinets?"

He must be more anxious than she thought. "They're great."

"Do you want to see the upstairs?"

"Sure."

There are four bedrooms. "These two are smaller, so...oh, there you all are!" For the children have made their place in the room clearly meant to be theirs, with little beds corresponding with the colors of the ones in their home in Sugar Valley. "Right. Here's...the master..." He dumps their bags unceremoniously on the floor.

"Nice view," Nesta says, looking out onto the park. She can see the Night Court's mountains in the distance.

"You can stay here," he says. "You know, while you're here."

Nesta turns to face him, blinking. "What?"

"If you want."

"It's your room. It's your house."

"I can sleep in one of the smaller rooms."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I—please, just take it."

She blinks again. "All right." If he wants her to...

"Mummy!" Avery calls as she runs in. "Mummy, can we have lunch and go play?"

"Yes, ah—you have...do you have food?"

"Yeah, I've gone out and I've got the kitchen stocked...I'll get started, why don't you...settle in?" He leaves her with a parting smile, Avery trailing after him.

Get settled, she thinks. She's not quite sure what that entails, but she decides it includes a few minutes to herself before the overwhelming onslaught of Velaris crashes over her.

---

Chapter Sixteen

#like pristine glass #nessian fanfiction #acotar fic #nesta archeron #acotar #zeyn staring at nesta is brought to you by me

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silencedtechnophile · 5 years

Text

==>Rescue the boy

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 4:09 AM

Feferi stared down the security detail that had boarded Karkat's ship. She was big, towering over them, a full Presence that could fill a room all buy herself, dressed in loose transluscent fabric layered over a monocrystaline armor suit shaped like a bathing suit. She held her trident in her hands and they shrunk back from her. Karkat, near at hand was getting a few looks, back and forth between them. "You will escort me to the trails for the crown." She told them imperiously and without a trace of doubt that she would be obeyed- and they were well trained enough to fall over themselves in the face of an imperial tyrian giving them orders.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 4:27 AM

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 5:16 AM

She winked at Karkat and swept up behind them, walking into the large ship she was going to command soon. Or at least. That was the hope. There was no telling how many of her caste mates were here yet, or what kind of trial she was walking into. All she could do was hold her head up high and carry herself with dignity.

And make certain there was a backup plan to get her beloved and karkat off of this bucket if she failed.

Most of them were more concerned with Karkat being a wanted criminal than with his capris and ridiculous sweater- but tyrians did what they wanted. It was a rule, and if you stood in their way you died.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 5:51 AM

This was it. Time to show up or shut up. The wink aimed in his direction was returned with a nod. And then, grumbled low enough that hopefully their makeshift escort wouldn’t hear, and fast enough that she might mistake the tension in his tone for annoyance: “Don’t do anything stupid, got it? I’ll resurrect your ass just to throttle you myself.”

Karkat took a few measured steps back after that, distancing himself enough to seem more like a guard and less like he was waiting to slip away. He aimed ugly looks at anyone who so much as looked at him, an effort to dissuade anyone from properly keeping an eye on them. Internally taking a breath and reasoning with himself that this would be nothing, he had seen worse, he was in the best place he had been in sweeps, he gave one last lingering look to the back of Feferi’s head before abruptly putting himself in reverse and hastily steering himself down a temporarily unoccupied corridor.

After that... Well, he was going to wing it more or less. The flagship was significantly larger than the one he commandeered, and likely laid out in a more intricate manner due to the increased number of troops and notable members of the fleet. So he took a quick inventory of his surroundings, decided he was already hopelessly and utterly lost, and started off toward the nearest door in sight.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 5:58 AM

Somewhere in the engine room a helmsman sharpened to alertness. He watched his matesprit make her way, with dignity and an escort toward the absolute madhouse that was her siblings fighting highlander style for the right to sit on the throne, she wasn't the first to arrive and she wouldnt be the last. He hadn't even known she was incarnated, and now all he had was greedily hoarded video images of her walking through that door, weapon in hand and wading into the fray.

..But he couldn't keep all of his attention and gut clenching nausea on her, no, she'd brought Karkat, and that was almost worse, he didn't know how well he fought now- he had fought his way free once after being caught but this was different. He watched Karkat begin to go down the hall- what was he looking for? Was he headed this way?

The helm casually slammed the door of someone who saw Karkat and started after him with a shout, and opened another door near Karkat. C'mon.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 6:17 AM

The heavy clanging of doors opening and closing was enough to have the hair on the back of his neck rising, especially combined with the cut off shout that came before. He whipped around automatically, doing a neat 360 before looking to the open door. Worst case scenario? An attempt at trapping him or cornering him, which would be an unfortunate delay but not a total game changer. Best case scenario? A bit of inside assistance. A nudge in the proper direction.

There isn’t time to weigh all the pros and cons, so Karkat took only a moment (maybe two) to consider before ducking through the opening. He wasn’t sure if it would close behind him, but in the event that it didn’t he kept moving. He was a notable fighter, certainly heads above when the others would have last seen him and with the bulk to back it up as well as the mouth, but not incapable of making mistakes or getting injured. So he immediately swiveled his head around to survey the area, knees bent in preparation to engage a hostile or take off in the direction of the metaphorical middle of the maze.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 6:25 AM

There were tables and chairs scattered through this space, it was fairly large, but there weren't many people here this time of day. Three trolls were talking and looked up as he entered. From there the startling shade of his red eyes looked more maroon, but he was out of uniform with weapons in hand. So they stood with a clatter of chairs tipping from being too hastily shoved back. Another door at the other side of the public room slid open.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 7:05 AM

Well, it could have been worse. Karkat took some comfort in that, despite knowing it was likely to get more difficult. Unfortunate, but entirely expected. There was no chance he was going to go horns first into stealing the most notable ship’s helmsman and not have to duke it out, okay. In fact, he briefly found himself relieved. Fighting had become a familiar thing over the sweeps, and he was never good at sneaking around or keeping his cartilage nub out of the mud.

Any further introspection there has a pin put in it quickly enough. Karkat let a crooked, toothy grin cross his features and raised one arm in a slight gesture of greeting. “Well pinch my ass and call me a human newborn, I was just inquirin’ about the welcome wagon.”

Trying to take advantage of them being somewhat caught off guard, he swiftly moved for the nearest table, raising one leg to plant a kick the side and send it skidding in their direction. From there he ducked and tried to edge a path to the side of the room, occasionally kicking pieces of furniture out of his way and hopefully into theirs.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 7:23 AM

He really should have worn the steel toed boots to this shindig He tried to kick the table, and sharp pain shot through his foot, the table wobbled and half collapsed in place, causing him to nearly fall- but he managed to catch himself.

His opponents weren't moving too fast themselve,s trying ot untangle themselves from the chairs they knocked over and get over to him through the table maze between them. They are not yet upon him, though none of them managed to face plant while they were tangled up in the fallen chairs.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 7:36 AM

So that didn't work quite as well as he had hoped. Any points for attempted style are immediately rescinded with my immediate pain in his foot. Platform boots? Sturdy, waterproof, assist with the height issues, comfortable, warm... But not protective. Karkat made a note of that for next time, absently deciding to purchase more combat worthy footwear even if it did take away from the overall look. It would be a necessary loss. Just like the feeling in his outermost toe, but he could address that later.

Karkat thanked Skaia for generating trolls that matched his levels of incompetence, trying to right himself. He looked past them to the door, trying to quickly decide if he could make a speedy move for the exit. In the end, he decided against it. It wasn't worth leaving himself exposed, or giving one of them the chance to step into a blind spot.

So he rolled his shoulders and made an impulsive move, one that could pay off or end with him further digging himself a grave of humiliation during serious situations. He took a few long strides forward, then tried to plant a foot on one of the tabletops to vault over and swing his sickles in a downward arch toward the nearest troll.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 7:47 AM

He never saw what hit him. Which was Karkat. Karkat hit him. With his sickles. The vault off the table went nearly perfectly, with the table falling as Karkat lept from it, and his sickles came down, slicing into him and giving him a beautiful ruby necklace. He fell back, clutching at his throat, unable to form even a weak defense.

His friends were stunned, and fumbled for their weapons out of their sylladexes, one of them managed to spill knives everywhere instead of summoning the single one he'd asked for, while the other was cursing and kicking the chair he was tangled up in away.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 8:16 AM

Even Karkat was a little surprised that worked out for him as well as it did. Later, he'll likely spare a few moments to appreciate the move. In the moment, a celebration was the last thing on his mind. While not totally dispatched, the other troll seemed to be at least unable to pose a threat. The other two had become significantly less imposing in their fumbling, as well.

The red blooded troll aimed a kick to the downed troll's skull for good measure, then turned on his heel to face the other two. He went for the one with a puddle of knives first, lunging toward him and swinging one sickle toward his abdomen and then ducking to try to bring the other one into his legs.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 8:24 AM

The down'd troll's head snapped back and he fell in a heap against their table, tipping it over. The troll with the knives twisted away, a bright line of green saturating his uniform, without breaking into the abdominal cavity. and he licked out at Karkat's head as the other troll went down and aimed a shot at his leg, catching him just under the chin- but doing little damage, though this head might ring for a moment as he got his balance back under him.

The last troll had finally sorted himself out and had drawn a gun in hand. The hot lasor fire burned a hole through the oversized sweater- but barely missed doing any real damage, and he can thank the sweater making the target uncertain for that.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 8:32 AM

The foot making contact under his chin knocked him back and he had to brace a hand on the floor to avoid losing his balance, leaving him in a very Twister-esque pose on the floor while the ringing in his ears settled and he reoriented himself to his surroundings. Heat across his skin alerted him to the other armed troll, a warning that he likely didn't have time to debate his options. All he knew was a gun was more dangerous than a knife, and long range had never been good to him.

Instinct took over immediately, and Karkat made a low ugly noise and swung one sickle wildly in the direction of the troll with the knives. Whether it made contact or not, he wasn't concerned. He temporarily abandoned the weapon in favor of making a dive for the troll with the gun. He threw all of his recently acquired bulk into it, less concerned with causing damage and more focused on getting him unstable and unarmed.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 8:37 AM

The sickle struck the troll in the leg , opening it up and making him fall to a knee in his pile of knives- which was, perhaps, not the best thing to fall into.

The gunman didn't stand a chance. He wasn't able to squeeze off another shot before he was on the floor beneath Karkat, head bouncing off the floor with a nasty wet noise.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 8:58 AM

Adrenaline fueled his movements, automatic reactions paired with a desire to not experience another death. He pushed his boots against the floor, abandoned his other sickle to increase his speed. He went for the gun, not sparing even a courtesy glance at his only remaining roadblock. It would be a waste of time and be of no help, especially if the other troll had decent enough skill with throwing those knives to cause him a more serious injury. He figured it was the only reasonable way to explain the sheer number of knives being carried around, unless he was prone to losing them which presented a whole other serious of questions.

If he made it to the gun without any serious hinderance, his reaction would be immediately. He would roll, to increase distance and make himself a harder target by moving, and stop on his back. Then plant his feet on the floor, sit up, and aim a good three shots consecutively at the other troll. If he was lucky, all that badgering and forced learning about guns and how to use them from Vati would for the first time prove to have been of some use.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 9:03 AM

The three shots veered wildly off target- who was having problems of his own, he went to throw a knife and slipped between the injured leg, the blood and the knives, and managed to slice himself up on his own knives, though he was not yet out of the threat zone- Bloody could probably get away from him if he didnt go back for his sickles.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 9:11 AM

Not going back for the sickles simply wasn’t an option. Stupid, sure, but Karkat had never quite been able to detach himself from the things and people the weapons were associated with. The various reasons would be too time consuming to list, but the heat of the moment makes the risk seem worth it.

Karkat had no idea how much ammo the weapon was packed with, but he tried to fire off another two shots while the other troll slipped in the blood and cutlery. If that failed, he would simply launch the weapon at him and make a mad dive to get up close and get enough leverage to land a few good hits.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 9:14 AM

The shots went wild, scorching a table top and splashing against a wall leaving a black mark in the paint. Knives was able to duck away from the weapon being thrown at him, and bring a hand up, to meet Karkat's dive with the sharp end of a blade.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 9:31 AM

An unfortunate development. All of it. Karkat was aware of metal moving through the flesh of his upper body with ease, and the warmth of blood sticking to his skin. He glanced down, back up to the other troll, down, and back up again. And then he pulled his expression into a sneer. This was a familiar experience, and definitely not pleasant, but whatever pain there was is overshadowed by offended and incredulous outrage.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He raised his voice with each word, careening forward to try to headbutt him. If that was successful, he would try to get a grip on the knife that injured him to turn it on its owner. “You seriously shoved this toothpick imitation of a weapon at me? Are you pan damaged?”

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 9:37 AM

If Sollux, who was watching this whole thing, unable to move, unable to help or do anything but route traffic away from them, could hit his head against something, he would.

Karkat goes to head butt his opponent and finds himself firmly headbutted back, with much of the force of the blow taken on the other troll's horns, The knife was slippery and hard to grip , though he managed to work it out he wasnt able to turn it on his oppoment, who grabbed another knife from the entire pile he was sitting in and slashed at him with it.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 9:44 AM

Okay, okay. He’d admit he didn’t think that one through very well. Karkat reflected on that when he topped backwards and suffered a slash through his abdomen. That one made him pause, clenching his jaw and releasing his grip on the knife. The already bloody hand came to feel out the wound, judging the depth and overall size, and his free hand went on a search for the sickle he previously abandoned.

“What the fuck, man. This was a good sweater, I liked this sweater, this thing had value -“ He ranted roughly, the small amount of verbal filter he had typically entirely dissolved. As soon as he got his hand on his own weapon, he swung it up toward the other troll.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 9:51 AM

He didn't find his weapon, his hand slipped out from underneath him as he searched for it and he fell against the pile of knives this guy had hoarded in his strife deck. His death was quick, a knife dragged across his throat in a quick motion, spilling that imperial red blood all over the place. Knives shakily started getting to his feet. He needed to report to someone, He was absolutely sure on that, although he was a little fuzzy on who exactly. In the rig in the bowels of the engines of the ship a cry was torn from the throat of the helm. No. KK..

bulgeRotLast Friday at 10:05 AM

Death. Another familiar experience, and never a positive one. He only had a moment to reflect on his incoming demise, and then his throat was leaking blood and there was nothing. That was it. No bubbles, no life flashing before his eyes. It felt like a lifetime, but in reality couldn’t have been more than a minute. The major wounds stitched back together with a series of wet, nasty noises, and his eyes flashed with life.

No matter how many times it had happened, the coming back is always disorienting. Karkat was aware enough to realize he was working on a limited time frame, and would likely only have the element of surprise once. But... You know what they say about old barkfiends and new tricks. He coughed a wet breath out and forced himself to roll, making another attempt for his sickle to get the jump on the other troll.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 10:10 AM

It was a grotesque sound, and it got the knife fighter looking back at him, and then cussing and almost falling on his ass as a sickle sliced into his leg while he dodged back from it.- that leg was taking a lot of damage, although fortunately for him this was mostly superficial. What the actual fuck what the fuck "What the fuck"

bulgeRotLast Friday at 10:16 AM

“You are seriously pissing me off.” Karkat spat around the blood in his mouth, working to haul himself up a bit. “What the fuck is about right you ridiculously lucky cullbait.”

Considering he was still recovering from the whole dying thing, running wasn’t an appealing option. He made along swing at the troll, then pushed off from the floor to try to get some sort of distance settled between them to avoid another lackluster demise.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 10:19 AM

This time, with his last rushed and half assed swing, Karkat did what he'd been trying to: The troll didn't dodge in time, and the sickle bit into his neck and saw him falling back clutching it, and not long for this world, as the knight of blood scrambled away from him.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 10:32 AM

“That was stupid.” Was all Karkat could think to say, providing himself with the criticism and frowning. He looked around at the mess before hauling himself up. Then he retrieved his second sickle, giving the weapons a frown. “Really stupid, guys.”

Without taking more time to examine the state of his partially healed wounds, or giving a heartfelt parting word to his three new friends, he made for the exit. Hopefully he would have more luck if he ran into anyone else.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 10:38 AM

The door was still open for him- and it looked like it was taking him into an access area, for servitors and maintenance and the various riff raff who kept this ship running. He was taking him around, through service areas, instead of through the dining hall and residential areas. Ocassionally as he walked along he found someone furiously banging on a door from the other side and cussing the ship for not opening the portal for them. Sollux was keeping traffic away from him, steering everyone into other parts of the ship and restricting access to the areas that Karkat was in.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 10:57 AM

All things considered, Karkat definitely wasn’t going to question the lack of opposition or stop to pass a few snide comments through the sealed doorways. He simply kept moving, following the clearly laid out path set for him. Not that he had any other options, of course.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 11:02 AM

Sollux wasn't taking many chances with his direction impaired friend. It took a bit, because he had to cross the entire ship, and go up and down access ladders, but he kept him away from the open areas as much as possible.

Untill he finally reached the helm room.

The door clanked open for him, and the smell coming out of the place was both organic and full of antiseptic. The lights weren't on initially, two bright lights in the darkness standing out, one blue and one red- and other blinking and twinkling lights on the equipment.

It took a moment but Sollux brought the lights up in the room to reveal him entangled in biowire, hanging from it by the arms and engulfed to the waste, goggles obscuring his eyes.

"took you long enough." His voice was raspy, dusty, like it hadn't been used in a while for anything but screaming.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 8:15 PM

By the time he was getting close, he was also losing his patience. The halls looked the same and the access ladders never seemed to end. He’d dropped his sickles into his sylladex a while ago, upon realizing he might have more luck speeding his way through. Their exit would be a different story, probably, without an inside nudge of assistance.

Karkat didn’t even realize he had made it until the lights came up to expose their surroundings. He took a long gander at Sollux, lingering on the goggles and biowire. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, but he managed to put that on the backburner as he approached. Besides, it wasn’t like his stained red jumper and half knit together injuries were appealing either.

“Took the scenic route.” He grunted, stepping up to the other. This was probably a bad time to realize he didn’t know how to disconnect him. “Made a couple new allies along the way, yeah, traded stories.”

Tentative, Karkat came to a halt within arm’s reach. If they had more time he would lament on all of the changes between the two of them, and maybe take a beat to be self conscious about his own. But they don’t, so he doesn’t. Instead, he blew out a harsh breath and grimaced. “Let’s get this over with.”

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 10:42 PM

Maybe within arms width of someone else, he might as well not have arms, and he wasn't looking to being sober. Well was, and wasn't. It was nice to be able to think, but pain wasn't his friend. Up close Karkat could see the unkept hair, the beard, could smell the reek of his body only occasionally washed down.

"You'll want two put me into maintenance mode" he lisped softly. "we're going to convince the computer the helm needs to be swapped out, so it will let go. - theres an escape pod just below us through that access over there. I can't see through these goggles, but they've been on so long I dont know if you can remove them."

It was amazing, astonishing that Karkat had asked the guy who was helm to come up with the bulk of his rescue plan, and Sollux had stepped up to the challenge where he could. There was no telling what would happen after he killed the Condesce but here they were.

bulgeRotLast Friday at 10:55 PM

"Escape pod. Ri-ght." Karkat held out the vowel, attempting to disconnect his gaze from the helmed troll. A tiny and paranoid piece of his pan seemed to be convinced he would look away and the scene would change, though, so even when he edged his way to the equipment he kept looking back at him. "We can deal with the goggles later, don't need to see to get forcefully ejected from the ship."

The whole thing was like a weird and oddly detailed dream. But Karkat did his best to listen and follow any provided intructions, for once unable to draw up some sort of snarky back-and-forth.

silencedTechnophile Last Friday at 11:03 PM

There was a moment that was probably startling and concerning for the docterror, when Sollux tweaked things from his end through the same access he'd adjusted his medication through, and cut all his vitals to flatline them, supressing the alarm to engineering.

He talked, in his lispy rasping voice, walking Karkat through a procedure he'd only been partially through when they had to replace some of the biowire, and he'd been out of it when he'd been installed---

A little alarm sounded inside the helming room but not outside of it as the biowire began to withdraw, slowly disconnecting and withdrawing from each place it was burrowed into his skin and down his spine.

He spent a moment burning the footage of Feferi fighting her siblings into his mind, before the cameras went dark and he became entirely blind. except for some vague coloured light filtering into his eyes through the goggles.

He'd never felt so small and alone, despite Karkat being right there. A moment ago he'd been powerful, a whole ship. and now he was trapped in this thin shaky body that couldnt support itself again yet. He was lucky, he was a god tier, his recovery would come more easily than for other people.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 12:18 AM

The whole process was fascinating, or would be, if he could manage to block out the specific troll involved. Karkat tried - and failed - not to let his shoulders twitch when every noise startled him. Once he was sure Sollux wasn't actually flatlining, making this a huge waste of time, he returned to doing as he ws told.

When the alarm goes off, his head whipped around toward the entrance to ensure they weren't about to have another set of problems. Nothing. He looked to his companion and had to do a double-take at the sight of wires withdrawing and leaving the other lowblood unsupported. It took most of his willpower not to just freeze up there, like a deer in the headlights. Karkat forced his limbs into action again, short quick steps to the newly uninstalled helmsman.

"This ain't goin' to be comfortable." He informed him in a grunt, all reservations pushed aside due to their end goal here. "I'm haulin' your ass, and if you shock me or the like I will change my pan and turn us both into officials to prove a point." He waited, no more than a few moments, before carefully going to make contact with Sollux. He knew this would be awful for him, so he tried to keep his claws clear of tender areas and his grip light.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 12:23 AM

"I'm not going two randomly shock you, you ass." he hissed his breath softly through his teeth at every jostle, as the chemicals that kept him floating and the pain distant were quickly wearing away without a constant surprise. "Its going two take them a minute to realize we're on auxilery power, I've locked as many doors and suppressed as many alarms as I could before I came out.

He was a limp noodle of a bag of flesh, easily maliable to however Karkat wanted to hold him. His limbs were.. not in good shape, but it was nothing some magical healing couldn't improve on.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 12:41 AM

"Sure. I've heard that before." Well... he hadn't, but it was close enough. "Hold on to your liquid diet, cowboy."

Karkat didn't give him any more warning than that before bending at the waist and manhandling the other troll over his shoulders, like a fresh eveningmeal cull, with ease. He adjusted the long troll's limbs to allow him more movement, one hand keeping the immobile troll steady when he strode toward the acess. Maneuvering was trickier with his makeshift cargo, but less problematic than expected overall.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 1:11 AM

Oof, here he goes, a sack of potatoes. This was more contact than he'd had in sweeps. It was weird, he wanted more, almost as much as he wanted a shower. It wasn't just that he was oozing from holes all over his body, it was the film of filth on his skin, and his long greasy hair. His eyes closed invisibly in the goggles. He was dizzy and at once feeling deprived of stimulation and over stimulated.

No one was coming yet, so far so good. Sollux was small, unlike trying to carry Feferi or Equius, he was easy to handle.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 1:43 AM

Karkat was, if nothing else, used to bad smells. It came with the professsion he had chosen, but also with a fair share of past quadrantmates. Granted, none of them had been leaking various fluids or covered in literal layers of grime but... The comparison was good enough. It gave him something to think on in the lapse of conversation, a distraction from the situation at claw.

When they neared the end of the access, he made sure to pause and listen in the hopes of detecting any potential company. And then he moved into the next area, absently voicing his newest series of thoughts. "I hope you're good at schoolfeeding. I've never driven a thing in my unfortunate, extended lifespan."

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 1:46 AM

Back behind them, distantly someone began pounding on the door to the helmblock and working on prying the door open, shouting.

Sollux hung limply where he was being carried. "I'm going to have two be, although its going to be hard without being able to see anything. we're going to have to pry these goggles off. "

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 1:57 AM

"I'm sure I can manage that." The shorter troll gave a nod in place of a shrug, determined to ignore the shenanigans behind them. "Can't promise it'll be fun either way, though."

Once they reached the escape pod - he was fairly sure this was it, anyway - he carefully deposited the limp troll in one of the seats. There wasn't much time to waste with being gentle, and he figured giving any warning could cause Sollux to tense up (if he could, anyway) and make the process harder. So he leaned down into his face and tried to hook sharpened claws behind the googles to work them off.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 2:02 AM

His breath hissed with a highpitched little pitiable sound of pain as the goggles came away leaving a wet raw welt where they'd rested against his skin for sweeps. Sollux blinked rapidly, tears in his eyes and trying to focus them. Fortunately light had managed to come through the lenses so he wasn't dealing with an intense light adjustment, but he was seeing with his own eyes for the first time in a long time. The filth built up around his eyes and on those lenses that obscured his vision was gross.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 2:17 AM

The ugly noise made Karkat cringe, tossing the goggles as far from the immediate line of sight as possible. He made a note to find a salve for the welts when they were in a more secure spot. Then he quickly turned to the controls while his friend took time to adjust, partially to avoid the inevitable good look at the additions to how own features from the sweeps - mostly, though, he wanted to at least try to familiarize himself with the controls to make this less laughable as an attempt at a getaway.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 2:21 AM

"I wish I could still see her" Sollux's voice was quiet, mostly to himself, fretting about things he couldn't help. Is shoulders were crying out after sweeps in the same position, moving again. He tried to lift a hand but it seemed so heaviy and pain lanced from the joint.

He took a breath. "-Okay lets get this launched, escape pods are designed two be easy two use in an emergency."

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 2:24 AM

Sollux's quiet admission made the other troll pause, unsure as to how to respond or if he should at all. "One thing at a time." Was all he ended up giving out, perusing the numerous buttons and switches, most of which did not have labels. "Easy to use my ass. It's of Alternian design, it's bound to be awful."

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 2:28 AM

Sollux rolled his eyes, not that Karkat could tell. Okay. He had this. Only one visual imput, no access to the thrusters, cut off from his network, but he had this. "Okay you need two-" And he started talking him through the launch, once it was launched they were going to want to get his ship to scoop them up, so they didnt float forever in space.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 2:49 AM

It wasn't as bad as anticipated, Karkat was willing to admit it. Once he was done sputtering and started listening, getting the escape pod fired up was pretty basic. From there, with the help of Sollux, launching it was almost easy. He spared a glance at the other troll as they got the ball rolling, internally debating whether or not to be vocally impressed before he decided against it.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 2:52 AM

Sollux watched the screen intently, chewing at his lip as warnings sounded, but they weren't able to stop the launch. The little pod sped off away from the big ship. "Okay - fuck is anyone on your ship to respond to us or do we need to do the docking from this end?"

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 3:30 AM

“Uh...” This isn’t something Karkat had properly considered, and the hesitation in his tone was paired with a stiff shrug. “Comms are up, yeah. One thing I did manage to fix. S’matter of if anyone is aware they should have an optical orb out for us. I’m kind of assuming Feferi took care of that, too.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 3:33 AM

"Okay open up a comm line two the ship, I .. don't know what Fef set up we weren't in communication, I havent been able two dial out since I kicked her out of an airlock." He closed his eyes.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 3:43 AM

“What she set up is an oversized mobile bed and breakfast.” Karkat grumbled bit nodded and did as told, hunching his shoulders and fiddling with a few things as he waited for the familiar static to come through. He’d never actually made use of the comma himself, so he was kind of making it up as he went. “Uh... Assholes to base? Is that how this works? Like wriggler radio games?”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 3:46 AM

It took a minute as they figured out where the hail was coming from, but eventually. "Roger, exactly like wriggler radio games. Whats the situation, over"

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 3:52 AM

“The situation? It’s, you know, kind of shitty, but that’s how things usually turn out when more than one of us morons gets involved. Suppose that’s kind of our thing. Shit Session. Uh. Over.” He paused, wrinkled his nose as he considered their injuries, and continued. “Piss pants is goin’ to need immediate attention, he’s leakin’ shit everywhere. I should have the necessary supplies to assist the healing process on board, but quite frankly we’re goin’ to need someone more informed on helming to provide any long term help, over.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 3:57 AM

Right now the very large problem and possibility is that hes going to get an infection, Sollux snorted at Karkat with his eyes closed and muttered some choice insults under his breath.

"we'll have to see what we can do-"

Sollux raised his voice. "We're in the pod that just launched can you bring her around and scoop us up?"

"Got it, uh, over."

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 4:11 AM

“They can just do that?” Karkat asked, and then aimed the same question to whoever they had caught on communication duty. “Hey, you can do that? The ship can scoop shit up and you panless wastes of artificial air didn’t think to just come grab the little escape pod turd the flagship just shit out? What the fuck?”

His surprise had him forgetting to say ‘over’ again, hands coming up to rub at his eyes tiredly. He was beginning to hate everyone on board his stolen ship. What came next was directed at Sollux, and accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“I trained as a doctoreaper, to kee it in simple terms.” Karkat informed him blandly. “The medical bay on ship is already prepared, you’re up shit creek ‘till I strap you in there.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 4:13 AM

"You're a mediculler? thats.. I never thought that was something you'd be interested in. thank fuck though"

"We're coming about now, we'll grab you." The bigger ship began coming about to come pencer grasp the little escape pod and make off with it. Feferi was well and truely on her own now.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 4:21 AM

“It wasn’t.” He responded after a moment of uncomfortable pause. “But things change, we should know that as well as anyone. Turns out to be somethin’ I’m good at.”

The bigger ship was a welcome sight, but Karkat couldn’t help wanting to look back for the flagship. For Feferi. Sure, they had never been particularly close but... He had to stop the line of thinking before it went downhill. She was capable, he decided as they began their exit, and she knew what needed to be done. It was in her claws from there.

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 4:26 AM

"I'm glad you found something you're good at that you like doing, KK."

Sollux drew in a ragged little breath as they left the flagship behind. "-Powers grant we see her again." He hated Hated that she was being left behind, and he hadnt even gotten to see her, to feel her touch his hand again.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 4:49 AM

That got a bark of a laugh out of him. He tried to smother it with a hand with little success. “Yeah. Thanks, Sollux. All it took was the majority of what would have been my natural lifespan.”

It was reassuring to know he wasn’t the only one not pleased with this plan of events. But he also knew it was necessary, and they had different reasons for the discomfort. “We will, I’m sure. Already threatened to revive and skin her if she didn’t come back and take her freak brigade off of my shoulders.” The ship jostled a bit, presumably as they were reeled in to the big ship. “Not worth focusing on now, regardless. Plenty to be done in her absence.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 4:53 AM

"Fucking good, if she loses she deserves it" He grumbled half heartedly. "- I'm really tired Karkat, I might fall asleep as soon as we're safe"(edited)

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 3:01 PM

“She does.” He gave an amused snort at the warning and turned to face him since he no longer needed to be rowing their boat. “Not shockin’. I didn’t think you’d last this long, quite frankly. We’re safe, hell, you were safe the click we got on board.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 3:05 PM

He blinked owlishly at karkat. "..'v you been hanging out with ED? you sound a little like him.." Sollux it was one dropped G its not that important. He was a little light headed. A lot light headed and he might be out soon.

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 5:08 PM

“Not ours. Dave is - was - a bit to blame for it too.” He had to stop himself from trying to explain, it was a long series of stories that would probably get very hard to follow very quickly. “You’re only goin’ to make yourself further exhausted attempting to entertain full questions and conversations, you know. Better off saving it for later, maybe you’ll even find yourself fully coherent wouldn’t that be a doozy.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 9:58 PM

"Dave? Mm." his eyes close. "My whole fucking body is screaming at me."

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 10:02 PM

“Yeah, Dave.” Karkat went uncharacteristically tight lipped at that, picking at the newly acquired holes in his clothing. “You’ll feel better when you wake.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 10:05 PM

"Shit I hope so" He almost asked about where Dave was, but something in Karkat's voice warned him off of it. "I'm gonna take.. the best shower. soon as I can move."

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 10:20 PM

“Got warm water on the ship, now. Lot of good soaps and shit, courtesy of a.... highblooded benefactor.” He snorted. “Shampoo, conditioner, all kinds of shit. Oils, but that might be a bit overwhelmin’ on the senses so soon.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 10:21 PM

"Shit KK do you actually bath now?" he teased him, tense and tired but trying for some normalcy. "..yeah I.. theres too much.. feeling, right now. " By now they were well docked and a button started beeping and flashing at Karkat. Sollux pried an eye open-" Gotta open the airlock."

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 10:48 PM

That earned another laugh. He had forgotten how awful his hygiene was in general, for sweeps. “Yeah. I did. Developed a lot of shockingly good habits, wouldn’t you know. Can’t wait to show everyone just how much I’ve developed into a functionin’ adult. I, uh.” He paused, a bit nervous, before he continued. “I’ve got a couple things that could assist with that, limit exposure in varying degrees while you adjust... Bit old, but suppose Equius would be good with tweaking to fit.”

Karkat hastily opened the airlock, automatically putting his back to a wall to face the friendly welcome wagon. He knew these were Feferi’s allies, and that Equius would likely be among them, but he still found himself dropping a single sickle from his sylladex into his dominant hand. Sweeps of growth would likely never dissolve the paranoia burned into his pan, a number of sources contributing to the edgy twitch of his muscles and hard set to his expression.

Unsurprisingly, the first person to enter - ducking through the still opening passing in a manner that was entirely hilarious given his hulking size - was Equius. Sweat made his long hair stick to his cheeks where it was refusing to stay pulled back, and his fists were clenching and unclenching in his anxiety. He and Karkat exchanged a look and a nod, a moment of understanding, before he approached his kismesis. Karkat stepped to present himself as a temporary blockade, to allow them a few moments. “I clod’nt have thought you could ever l-ook worse.” The other trolls had enough sense to hold off, looking between the three trolls. One large blueblood, crouched in front of his quadrantmate with his hands hovering to avoid accidentally causing a sore spot to worsen. One goldblood, slumped in front of the aforementioned large highblood. And one redblooded mutant, splattered with blue and purple blood, jumped torn to expose wounds that weren’t knitting together and a partially open cut across his throat wielding a recently used weapon.

“Abso-loo-tely smell worse than I hoofed for.”

silencedTechnophile Last Saturday at 10:52 PM

" It's a shitmas miracle" his lips quirked into a smile that was more of a grimace, not because if him, the pain was pretty bad, and his breath only cane more quickly and raggedly as they went. " What's that?" His eyes opened again, familiar and bright, though not as bright as might be hoped. Exhaustion and pain did that " nice two fucking see you too pony boy. I've been in the rig. What your excuse for smelling like a sweaty horse?" He was fine probably. God's it was good to see him even if he'd turned into a fucking giant. He wished he would touch him even with his body's rebellion.(edited)

bulgeRotLast Saturday at 11:18 PM

“Goggles with adjustable levels of opacity, if light turns out to be an issue. Auditory input interruptors, essentially the opposite of an aid. Gloves with detachable bits. Clothes with agreeable fabric and a fit that won’t feel suffocating. Have to adjusted for fit, of course. We aren’t nearly the same size.”

“That is entirely your fault.” Equius tried to sound mad, or even annoyed, but there was a wave of relief in his tone and posture that was hard to miss and entirely justified. “I had assumed...”

He trailed off, likely to figure out his wording. Karkat took that moment to step back, shooting one last warning look to the onlookers before putting his weapon again and shooing the larger troll out of his way. Equius protested, but didn’t force the smaller troll to let him continue.

“You can have your dramedy reunion later.” Karkat snipped, but the look in his eyes was apologetic. “I need to get started before he worsens, gets an infection. Our healin’ rates don’t typically work at the proper capacity, if his state declines he’s likely to face a more difficult healin’ process.” With that he gathered up the other troll again and, with Equius as his escort, made a path out. April 14, 2019

silencedTechnophile Yesterday at 12:36 AM

"Oh that sounds nice-" he told KK then wrinkled his nose at his kismesis and opened his mouth to say something back, trying to maintain and edge of annoyance, of banter and normalcy, but Karkat interupted, and he was a ragdoll being manhandled. He closed his eyes as pain flared in every joint and hole bored into him. and laid his head against the somewhat more built than he remembered troll.

"They've had me on immunosuppressents and industrial antibiotics for a while, KK." He murmured to him. He thought he ought to know. "the shitheads had to keep my body from attacking the biowire."

bulgeRotYesterday at 1:20 AM

“You c-oo-ld be moo-re careful.” Equius aimed this at Karkat, giving him a look over his shoulder. This was not an unusual sort of interaction for them, if the scoff and roll of the eyes from the more stout troll was any indication. From the way Sollux was hung over his shoulders, if he opened his eyes he would be able to see Equius turning an irritated frown toward him. “If you had not previously l-ooked enough to notice, they clod’nt feed coonside mannerisms to him.”

Karkat made a decidedly affronted noise, as the blueblood opened a door to reveal a considerably stocked and already set up medical block. Equius was right on their tail when he strode to the nearest already prepped resting plateau and (more mindful and gently this time) deposited Sollux. He was immediately dropping a box from his sylladex, filled with various supplies, and opening it to sanitize his hands and don a mask and gloves. A bit odd, considering the general state of himself and his own wounds and already being covered in the other’s fluids but... Habitual, familiar, exactly what Karkat needed to flip a switch. It was an obvious change, evident in his posture and even expression. This was what he was good at, what he knew, where he was probably always fated to fit.

“I’m goin to knock you out.” Karkat informed Sollux, for the first time looking him unflinchingly in the face without a single concern over his scarred face or their shared past. “And no, it ain’t optional. I’m not makin’ this harder on myself or more distressing for you -“ here he hooked a thumb toward Equius, hovering literally right over his shoulder, “- or the upscaled grey human Popeye motherfucker about to shit himself already.”

silencedTechnophile Yesterday at 4:57 AM

Sollux rolled his head looking at Karkat then Equius. "I'll be okay you overgrown pony show, I'm a god, remember?" He scoffed softly, then let his head rest with a small little bang,closing his eyes. "Fuck me up KK., I'm half way there already." He already half thought they should just kill him and see if they could force a reset but that was.. tricky, and not garunteed to work, plus traumatic.

bulgeRotYesterday at 9:55 PM

“My memory is impeccable, as it always has been.” Equius frowned at him, but relented and stepped away a bit. “When you acquire the shoes to stay awake -“

“Alright, no, that’s enough.” Karkat aimed a disgusted look at the taller troll and pulled out a needle filled with some sedative. He wasted no time in injecting it into the other troll, careful but sure. “Count up from zero to ten.” He instructed, though having concocted the substance himself he knew Sollux was unlikely to make it past five. “No funny shit either, or I’ll be forced to assume you suffered permanent mental damage and are unfit for continued service.” A bad joke, referencing their throneworld but... Funny for him, at least.

silencedTechnophile Yesterday at 11:39 PM

He opened his mouth to try to dredge up a retort from his addled brain- but then Karkat intervened and gave him an injection. The fog started spreading fast. "-sure" he lisped softly. "..one, two, three, four-" his eyes closed, heavily as unconsciousness embraced him and for a bit, gave him a relief from the pain.

#paragraph RP #plot post #bulgerot #death//#murder//#blood//#body horror//#unsanitary//#medical stuff//#needle//

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ninjazaku · 6 years

Text

Windows to the Soul: Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own BNHA.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE?!” Ian yelled as he scrambled to put on his pants in the small apartment he and Gabbie had settled into some nights ago.

“IT’S NOT A HARD CONCEPT TO UNDERSTAND, IAN! WE HAVE 15 MINUTES TO GET TO SCHOOL OR WE’LL BE LATE!” Gabbie responded, messily buttoning her shirt and fumbling to tie her red tie and put the pin on the knot.

“IT’S KIND OF HARD TO UNDERSTAND WHEN IT WAS YOUR JOB TO SET OUR ALARMS, WHICH SHOULD HAVE GONE OFF AN HOUR AGO SO WE HAD TIME TO WALK TO THE CAMPUS!”

“I LEFT MY EARPLUGS IN WHEN I FELL ASLEEP!”

“WHICH YOUR DOCTOR HAS REPEATEDLY TOLD YOU NOT TO DO!!”

“DO YOU WANT TO HAVE THIS FIGHT RIGHT NOW, IAN?!”

“I’LL HAVE THIS FIGHT WHENEVER YOU WANT, GABRIELLA!”

The two simultaneously burst out the door with breakfast still hanging out of their mouths. Ian reached back using a large construct of a hand to close and lock their door behind them. The two began to quickly gain pace as they hit the street below them and Gabbie shifted to her intimidating, lycanthropic Hybrid appearance, while Ian used his light constructs to form wheels onto the bottom of his feet so he could pick up with Gabbie’s large strides.

“We’re still not gonna make it at this rate!” Gabbie growled.

“I’m sorry, do you have a better idea?!” Ian responded, still trying to chew his last bite of food.

“Can you still make a hang glider? Like we used to when we were little?” Gabbie suggested

“I’m sorry, do you remember what happened last time we tried that?” Ian scoffed

“We’re nowhere near as high as we were back home. There’s a much lower chance of us passing out from altitude sickness or lack of oxygen.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m too sleep deprived to fight with you.”

Ian reached out and locked arms with his sister, who hoisted him up and sat him onto her shoulders. With one powerful lunge she leaped onto a nearby wall and began to use her claws to scale the building as quickly as she could. With one last push of her powerful legs, the two were launched up and over the skyscraper’s top. Ian looked over their surroundings and spotted the UA campus’ unmistakeable silhouette. He felt Gabbie grip onto his legs and he reached his hands into the air as he began to concentrate.

The translucent objects that began to form over the duo were a light grey color, with a defined firmness to them. The first objects to form were a set of clamps that secured Gabbie’s grip onto Ian’s legs, assuring that the larger of the two would not fall. Then, immediately after, a harness formed onto Ian’s chest, from which two rods emerged, extending upward towards the sky. Ian grasped the rods and out sprouted a glider; the glider caught the air with a resounding THOOMP and he began to guide the two’s descent towards the campus.

As they approached the campus, Ian circled down and approached the ground. A chorus of boos and cheers came from the ground as they began to approach their landing spot. Just as he was about to brace his sister and warn her of the ground he felt a hitch in his throat and his constructs suddenly dissipated. Gabbie’s fur suddenly began to recede and she returned to her human form. The two of them fell roughly 4 feet before landing flat on their backsides. The two stumbled to their feet and saw the teacher of class 1-A standing on the main walkway, his eyes staring into the souls of the two young students.

“We’re here to shape you into heroes, not circus clowns. If you’re going to use your Quirks irresponsibly, ignore your duties as a student, or all around make UA look like a joke, I suggest you leave the school now and save us teachers some trouble. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” The two said, bowing their heads at the long haired teacher. They smiled nervously at each other before walking through the UA Barrier and hurrying to class. They switched out their sneakers for their formal shoes at their assigned cubbies and quickly made their way to their homeroom.

As they slid open the oversized letter-shaped door the two were greeted by a cacophony of sights and sound from the assortment of young men and women within their classroom. They were quickly waved down by Chae-Yeong, whom they had kept in touch with in the brief stint of time between the exam and the beginning of the semester. As they made their way to their assigned seats, Ian looked over their classmates. The first seat was a young man with a large plume of violet hair and bags under his eyes that made it look like he had never known a moment of sleep. Next to him was Nicoleta, and next to her was the vacant seat where Ian would sit. But there was also a girl with piercing white eyes, a set of students with mirrored heterochromatic eyes, a girl with a crown made from tinfoil, a boy with feathers for hair, and a boy who was more entertained by the prospect of brushing the fur on his pitch-black tail than any of the introductory conversations going on around him. And that was just Ian’s first glance around the classroom!

Ian took his seat next to Nicoleta and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder, which she acknowledged with a quiet grumble as she continued reading her book. Looking past Nicoleta, Ian continued to be mesmerized by the boy with the tired eyes. As his mind turned, the boy’s eyes shifted from their fixed point at the front of the classroom and suddenly met Ian’s. Ian jumped at the sudden acknowledgement and the boy’s face broke into a sly smile as he chuckled to himself. Ian paused, mumbling slightly and trying to figure out why the boy had startled him so much. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d have to figure it out later.

Gabbie, meanwhile, had already plopped into her seat next to Chae-Yeong and put her feet up on her desk with an exaggerated grunt of relaxation. Chae-Yeong giggled quietly and made the ASL sign for laughter with her right hand. Gabbie grinned a big, sharp-toothed grin. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and she leaned her head back so that she was looking at the student in the desk behind her (upside down)

“Excuse me b-but…” came the chattering request of the girl behind gabbie. Her hair was blue as were her eyes; a small icicle hung from the tip of her nose and she wore a sweater over her uniform. She was shivering and seemed to be perpetually cold.

“You a-aren’t supposed to put your feet on the d-desk.”

“I guess you’re right.” Gabbie said, sitting up straight and whirling around. “I guess I could just move over to yours. Maybe I could warm you up a bit?”

The young girl squeaked and a small flurry of snow buried Gabbie and her desk. Ian looked over, saw his sister slowly emerging from the situation, saw the distressed girl behind her, and resumed his conversation with Nicoleta. A large feline grunt came from under the snow pile as Gabbie’s tiger head emerged and she undug herself. She used her paws to quickly shovel the snow out the window and then reverted to her human form and grinned.

“Well I guess I might come on a little strong. I didn’t mean to upset you, though. I’m Gabbie.” Gabbie said, introducing herself in earnest with her trademark toothy grin. The surrounding classmates could only stare in confusion at the sudden tonal shift.

There was a large BANG as the sliding door was forced open by a large man who appeared to have eyebrows, a beard, and hair made from burning coal. The rock moved and crackled as he moved to the front of the room, slamming the door behind him. His hero costume was a red jumpsuit with black gloves and black combat boots; he also wore an unzipped black tactical vest over the jumpsuit. He wrote his name on the board in the appropriate kanji and then turned to face the class. His face suddenly split into a soft smile and he spoke gently to the children.

“Good morning, boys and girls. My name is Ryusei Jigoku. You probably know me better as Hellfire Hero Ragna-Rock. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to helping you all along your journey.”

The class sat with jaws hanging open, confused at the living contradiction that had just stumbled into the classroom. Finally, one of the students behind Nicoleta raised their hand. It was one of the twins, a boy with more freckles than one knew what to do with.

“Ah yes. How can I help you...Mister Sasaki? Was it? One of the twins, correct?” Mr. Ryusei asked.

“Yes sir. I just wanted to make sure that everything was...ok. A lot of the pre-exam rumors are very...well...intimidating. They say that the teachers for the Hero program are ruthless and will cut students at a moment's notice. And even you, as a hero… you’re the Hellfire Hero! You stopped an attempted coup on a foreign diplomat on your own with your Quirk before! So...it’s a little off putting to receive such a quiet reception.”

“Well, all of that is true. I did do those things before accepting my position here. And my fellow teachers have been known to cut students if they feel that a student cannot contribute as a Hero. But… I’m not as cut and dry about that as, say, Eraserhead is. He’ll kick one of his students on the first day if he thinks they’re not up to snuff. But this is, first and foremost, a school. You’re here to learn how to be heroes. So I’m going to teach you how to do that. So without further ado...go put your gym clothes on, kids! We’re going to go get a good idea of your abilities.”

And so, like the other classes, the eight physical trials used in the Quirk Apprehension Tests to determine the prowess of the students and their quirks came and went; The 50 Meter Dash, The Grip Strength Test, Sustained Sideways Jumps, etc. They all came and went and the group performed beautifully.

“Splendid. Well done, students.” Cheered the gentle voice of the teacher. He clapped his hands together a few times and then let them fall to his side. “You’ve all earned a day of rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow. And be prepared. This is just the start of your journey.”

And so the week pressed on, and they of course went through actual school topics like all their other peers. Mathematics, History, and English - which Ian and Gabbie, being native speakers, were actually happy to help with. As the next day came they got their first chance to actually use the school lunchroom. The two had brought their own lunches from home, not in the traditional Bento but packed away in their bags nonetheless. They heard a call from across the lunchroom and saw Nicoleta and Chae-Yeong sitting on their own, waiting for the siblings to join them.

The two joined their friends and sighed as they began nibbling away at their meals. Gabbie, of course, was the first to speak up. “You guys hanging in there?”

-It’s been a rough go for me- Chae-Yeong signed forlornly -I’m sorry I keep having to have you sign things to me over and over, Gabbie. Hopefully I can find a language tutor or something here soon!-

“You’re fine, honey.” Gabbie assured her friend, signing as she spoke. “We’ll get you taken care of. I promise.”

“I’m beginning to wonder when the other shoe is going to drop here.” Nicoleta mused between bites of food.

“What do you mean?” Ian asked

“It’s all too happy and peaceful. We’re surrounded by the most powerful, high-profile heroes on the planet. This place is a target. And it’s only a matter of time before someone realizes that.”

The remaining three stared at Nicoleta with concern as she continued to munch on her food.

“What? Too morbid?”

“Little bit.” Gabbie noted, giving Nicoleta a reassuring one-armed hug.

“Oh, DARLING!” Came a thundering voice, accompanied by a thundering march of bootprints. Ian quickly found himself snatched out of his seat and squeezed with the force of a vice grip. As he began to feel his face redden from lack of air, all he could see was a pair of goggles and a mop of hot pink hair.

“Mei…?” Came Ian’s desperate squeak. He was immediately dropped and he promptly began gasping for air. The girl chuckled confidently as he stood back up and he noticed something he hadn’t the previous time they’d met - without her large metal boots, Mei was actually slightly shorter than him. Ian smiled a bit as he took notice of this, but then saw the girl’s confident smirk, and the reticles of her crosshair-like eyes focusing onto his own and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks once again.

“I’m glad you took my advice and made it here, Ian, my darling. It would have been a shame to leave such a gentleman hanging, never get to return the favor.” Mei said, her voice intentionally lingering on every syllable. As she finished the sentence she playfully elbowed Ian.

Gabbie, stifling her giggling, let out an exaggerated cough. “Ian, are you going to introduce us to your friend here?”

“Oh, my god. Are you really doing this?”

“I’m really doing this.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Mei, this is my sister, Gabriella De La Luna. Gabbie this is...oh my gosh I didn’t get your full name I must sound like such a jerk.”

“Don’t sweat the formalities, darling.” Mei scoffed.“ Not among friends.”

Mei plopped down happily next to Gabbie. “Hatsume Mei. Department of Support’s genius inventor extraordinaire and future millionaire, at your service.”

Gabbie grinned ear to ear as Mei sat down. “Where did you find this one little bro? What does a gal like this see in a guy like you?”

“Why do you do this to me?” Ian asked, deadpan

“I have to agree with her. You’re out of your league here, curcubeu” Nicoleta mused with a small smile

-I agree as well- Chae-Yeong signed.

“Wow! Okay! I can feel the love you guys.” Ian murmured sarcastically. “Those two are Nicoleta Damian and Chae-Yeong Moon.”

“Charmed, my dears.” Mae giggled. “Rumor has it that your class is taking on the Battle Trial after lunch. Are you prepared?”

Ian nodded and rummaged through his bag, pulling out his goggles that he had worn the day of the exam. “I’ve got my lucky goggles. They’ll keep me out of trouble.”

Without warning the goggles were snatched out of Ian’s hands by Mei,who scooted in so close to Ian she might as well be sitting on his lap.

“These were what let you see the heat signatures within my boots right? It looks like the different lenses are tinted and shaped differently to allow your eyes the necessary wavelengths of light that they would need to process the specific information. It also looks like there’s a very minor electric charge going into the primary framing that allows for the shaping to remain consistent and not warp back over time. I can simplify this and get you a more simplistic pair, no problem.”

“Wait, what--”

Mei rummaged into her bag, pulled out a tool kit and began fiddling with Ian’s goggles. Sparks flew and pieces began to be thrown left and right, one even hitting Nicoleta in the temple as Mei giggled madly to herself.

“TAH-DAH!” Mei exclaimed as she held up her finished product. She lifted her own goggles and made eye contact with Ian and scooted closer and closer with each finished sentence. “With these upgraded babies no need for a set of bulky goggles with 5 different pairs of lenses. Just one set of lenses that can be dialed into the specific frequency of light by rotating the outer casing on each eye. It’ll change the electric frequency charging the glass, and also slightly change the shape - thus allowing you to have greater control over your optic quirk! Aren’t I fantastic?!”

Ian’s jaw dropped at the small miracle she just pulled off. He could physically feel the shit-eating grin of his older sister boring into the back of his skull, but elected to not turn around and instead proceed with the conversation.

“This is...incredible. I don’t know how to thank you Mei.” Ian murmured.

As he finished his sentence, Mei slipped him a piece of paper with her personal contact info, including her email and phone number. She smiled a sly smile and winked at him.

“Sending me a message every now and then will be thanks enough. Break a leg today, darlings!”

Ian could physically feel the heat rising off of his face. He huffed a small huff and adjusted his glasses. “What just happened?”

“That, little bro, is what we call ‘being asked on a date.’” Gabbie chuckled, patting her brother on the shoulder. “Come on. We’re going to be late for class.”

The group packed up their bags and walked to class. Not long after they sat down, the door burst open and an unmistakeable voice thundered into the room. The children looked at the door with raised eyebrows.

“I! AM HERE!” All Might bellowed “In through the door, ha! I got you!”

The teens laughed half-heartedly and a mixed round of applause came from the class. Nicoleta remained silent.

“You’re the last group of the day, so let’s get right to business! You’ll be facing the Trial of Battle today! Today, you shall be receiving your hero costumes that you requisitioned before the school year began and heading into the testing grounds!”

All Might pressed a button to pop the cases which contained the various multicolored costumes out of their hidden panels in the walls. All ranges of fabric and design were contained within, and the murmurs of excitement charged the air.

“Once there, you will be divided into teams of two, and square off! Some teams will be assigned to be ‘villains’, who will be protecting a fake weapon! Others will be ‘heroes’, whose goal is to reach the weapon to disarm it! If time runs out before the heroes can reach the weapon, the villains win! Teams will be picked by lottery! Now head out, and suit up!”

The students all boarded the shuttle and scrambled into the locker rooms at Testing Ground Gamma. Each of them strutted out onto the battlefield with a new sense of pride.

Ian’s suit was a stark white, broken up by a silver belt and a golden stripe on the chest; the silver and gold also lined reflective prismatic disks placed on Ian’s hips and shoulders respectively, placed strategically to allow Ian to amplify his constructs with the prisms. Running all across the suit, up and down the arms and legs, were what looked like translucent gauges ready to be filled. As Ian flexed his hands preparing for battle, the translucent material shone the same color as the light he emitted. On his legs he wore silver boots and greaves to protect his legs.

Gabbie’s suit was simpler and sleeker than her brothers. Her top was a form fitting teal shirt with a white stripe across the shoulders, designed to expand with her musculature whenever she shifted. On her legs she wore tattered blue shorts, short enough to allow her her full range of motion. She wore no shoes as to prevent her claws from destroying them mid-transformation.

Nicoleta’s suit radiated the same ominous energy as the girl who designed it; she wore skin-tight black leather pants and red high heels. She had a black cloak draped over her shoulders and black bandages wrapped around her arms all the way up to her shoulders. On her head she sported a stereotypically witchy hat, red as blood, but as she fiddled with it, she groaned in frustration. Unable to get the hat to fit comfortably, she tossed the hat to the side for now, where it landed squarely on the head of the oblivious All Might.

Chae-Yeong’s suit flowed like water with every step she took. She wore a full-length blue dress and a pair of knee-high open-toe violet boots. The top of the dress was as bright as the sky, but gradually darkened as the dress continued towards the ground. This effect was lost however by the startling juxtaposition of the scarlet corset binding Chae-Yeong’s midsection. Chae-Yeong brushed her long locks of red-and-purple hair behind her ears and smiled a devil’s smile as she walked towards the battlefield.

The lots were drawn and teams were assigned. Gabbie and Ian were on a team, as were Chae-Yeong and Nicoleta. In fact, most of the people in the class began murmuring to themselves about how fortunate they were...before they all remembered that one of their classmates, Asahina Fuku, had a quirk called “Lucky Lucky”...they all silently decided not to bring the lot results to All Might’s attention.

“All right! First up! Heroes: De La Luna Gabriella and Allistair Ian! Versus Villains! Shinsou Hitoshi and Kuroo Ikuto! Young Gabriella! Young Ian! You two have a special bond, being family! Let’s see some good showmanship out there!”

Gabbie and Ian stood at the doorway to the building where their trial was to take place. Ian was adjusting the sizing straps on the new goggles Mei made for him and Gabbie was stretching her legs.

“Ready, bro? This is gonna be the real deal. You scared?” Gabriella teased

“Oh I’m the one who’s scared? This coming from the actual cat person who can’t be in the same room as a mouse.” Ian bounced back.

“You promised that would be a secret.” Gabbie gasped

“I had my fingers crossed.”

“TRIAL OF BATTLE! BEGIN!”

[Begin Battle Music - What I’m Made Of ]

The two burst into the building and began scrambling up stairs, quickly reaching the second floor. As they began darting towards the second set of stairs, Ian felt a tickle in his throat, and noticed the air start to thicken. He dialed his goggles to filter radio waves into his vision and noticed a bouncing set of waves in the distance. He stopped his sister and began signing back and forth with her. She nodded and the two split up. Ian clenched his fists and pressed into the haze.

“Spectrum Shift: Green Guardian.”

The translucent lines on Ian’s suit glowed a bright green as he held up two green shields to defend himself from the smoke billowing in from all sides.

“You can't really just block out my smoke like that, bud.” came the voice of Ikuto “You’re gonna have to breathe eventually.”

“You’re not wrong.” Ian wheezed. He then reared back his hands and flipped the shields over so that they were attached to his palms. With a single swing he clapped the two constructs together, blasting a large chunk of the smoke away with the improvised move. As the smoke cleared Ian gasped for air.

There, in the clearing, Ikuto stood. His outfit was fairly simple. He had black combat boots and a pair of military-esque pants with an unnecessary amount of pockets. He wore a black tank top, and on his back was strapped a strange apparatus that appeared to be generating smoke and pumping it through tubes; the tubes were strapped to Ikuto’s arms and allowed the smoke to exit at his palms. He wore a high grade gas-mask on his face to shield his own lungs from his attacks.

“Nice move. But you’re going to need more than one second of visibility to get to me.” Ikuto sneered.

“Wasn’t for me.” Ian coughed, gesturing upward.

From behind Ikuto came a low, bestial growl. His heart sank as he turned to see the towering figure of Gabbie in her lycanthropic hybrid form. Ikuto reached up to spray Gabbie in the face with smoke but she simply gripped his wrist and squeezed, hard enough to damage his equipment, but not enough to hurt him...much. She then took out the capture tape provided to them by All Might and wrapped Ikuto to a pole.

Ian took a few more breaths to cleanse his lungs and gave his sister a thumbs up so that they could move on. She rocketed up the stairway ahead of him and he lingered back, as was their usual tactic. She made contact with Hitoshi, and the “bomb”, first.

Hitoshi’s outfit was more designed for tactics than anything, by all appearances; his face was framed by a headband, and his mouth was covered by a cloth mask. The top portion of his suit appeared to be layered to give additional protection, and the design on it was segmented and angular, making it appear more intimidating. Two sets of straps met in the center of the chest at an “x” buckle, and all of them were lined with pouches for various storage purposes. He, like Ian, wore silver shin guards, but Hitoshi’s were strapped over a pair of black combat boots and a pair of simple black pants that bore the same design as his top.

“Well, well. Looks like you guys weren’t completely incompetent after all. Congratulations!” Jeered the fluffy haired antagonist.

“Oh, is that what you expected? I’ll show you incompetent you smug little--!”

From his hiding space in the stairwell Ian suddenly heard silence. With Gabbie, that was never good. “Gabs? Are you ok?”

A sudden ferocious growl rocked the hallway around him and Ian felt a chill run through his spine. He put up one of his green shields as the wall he was standing behind was blasted to bits by one of his sister’s punches.

“Now I’ve heard of intense sibling rivalries…” Hitoshi chuckled “But this is a little overboard, you guys!”

Ian grimaced and bit into his bottom lip. He formed a pair of headphones over his ears, not knowing if the words Shinsou was saying were the source of his Quirk like was the case with Chae-Yeong.

“Spectrum Shift: Brass Boxer!”

Ian’s shield dissipated and the detailing on his suit shifted color from green to brass. Brass colored gauntlets formed over his arms, as well as extra muscles to enhance his punches. As Gabbie wound up for a swing with her claws, Ian ducked under her swing and jabbed her in the kidney. As the brainwashed catgirl gasped for air, he ducked under her and got a shot in the stomach and a quick palm strike to her chin, completely stunning her. Thinking fast, Ian grabbed her legs and made made for a hail mary; gathering all his strength, Ian threw Gabbie at the bomb.

“What the hell?!” Hitoshi yelled, ducking out of the way as the 8-foot tall lycanthrope slammed into the prop bomb, knocking it over, as well as knocking the girl unconscious.

“Gabriella and Ian win the match!”

Hitoshi sat up quickly and growled at Ian “How could you so willingly punch out your own family like that?”

Ian crouched down next to Hitoshi and held up two fingers. “You made two mistakes. First: Gabbie and I have been sparring partners our whole lives. We’ve given each other far worse beatings than that.”

Hitoshi almost smiled. “Just my luck. Someone who was actually prepared. And second?”

Ian scooted a little closer to Hitoshi and collected his thoughts. As he did, the color on his suit began to change to an...unsettling shade of violet. “You really upset me. I thought you really put my sister at risk. But even when I realized you didn’t, you took away her control. Which is even worse, for her. So don’t do that ever again.”

Hitoshi nodded, slightly disturbed by the deadpan nature of the threat as Ian stood and collected his sibling, gently rousing her from unconsciousness and escorting her back to where the rest of the class had been watching.

As they joined the rest of their class, Ian was greeted with a high five by Nicoleta, and the two siblings were given water bottles and a bout of frantic signing from Chae-Yeong. As Hitoshi and Ikuto followed behind them, the villains received a round of obligatory “good job” murmurs, and pats on the back.

“Good work, young ones! Now, let’s move on to the next match!”

“All Might, why are you wearing Nicoleta’s hat?” Ian asked

“WHAT?”

After Ian secured Nicoleta’s hat, the lots were drawn again. “MOON CHAE-YEONG AND DAMIAN NICOLETA! HEROES! SASAKI MAMORU AND SASAKI NATSUKI! VILLAINS!”

Unlike Ian and Gabbie, Nicoleta and Chae-Yeong decided to use the element of surprise to their advantage. Using one of Nicoleta’s warps, they tore a doorway straight into the second floor and cut their time in half. The two started making their way towards the stairway when the boy of the Sasaki twins, Natsuki, bolted around the corner.

Natsuki’s outfit was fairly simple: they sported a one-piece suit that was predominantly black, and was missing one sleeve. They had one sleeve going down their right arm which was, instead, black. He wore an armored bracer over his right arm and had a pair of combat boots on over the suit; a utility belt with several pouches adorned his waist.

Nicoleta cast down several explosive traps with her Quirk. Seemingly in response to this, Natsuki slammed his fists together and then pounded his right hand into the ground. Red energy pulsed through the ground like a wave and as the wave hit Nicoleta’s traps, the runes crackled and faded away. Chae-Yeong grasped Nicoleta on the shoulder and nodded slightly, gesturing for Nicoleta to go forward. Nicoleta nodded in return and tore open the air next to them, hopping into it and popping out behind Natsuki, then running up the stairs.

Chae-Yeong simply smiled a sly, almost sadistic smile. She took a deep breath and let out a blood curdling sonic shriek that shook the building as it traveled.

Nicoleta, meanwhile, spent several minutes popping in and out of reality, scouting the remaining floors of the building for the bomb. Finally, she found Mamoru and the bomb on the roof, waiting for them. Mamoru was holding her forearms together pointing straight up. Her outfit was the same as her brothers, save for the fact that they were mirror images of each other. The air around her seemed to shimmer for several feet. Nicoleta tried to toss an explosive rune, but it bounced off and hit the concrete several stories below. She tried to pass her hand through a tear in reality, but it could not penetrate the shield.

“I-it’s no use! It’s an absolute defense. Nothing can penetrate it!” Mamoru boasted.

Nicoleta smiled coyly to herself. An ethereal melody came echoing through the stairwell, growing louder with each moment. Soon, the door began to slowly creak open and it reached a climax.

“Are you sure about that, dear?” Nicoleta cooed.

Chae-Yeong walked forward, continuing her melody as she went; the song was followed by an entranced Natsuki, looking for a way to assist the creator of the beautiful song. Chae-Yeong, as she came to a stop, gently gripped Natsuki’s chin and whispered something in their ear. He nodded and then slammed his fists together before running up and plowing his fist into his sister’s shield, disintegrating it. As the shield came crumbling down, Natsuki slowly came too, but before either of the twins could counter, a hand reached out from a tear in space time and gently tapped the bomb.

“Checkmate.”

“AND THE HEROES WIN AGAIN!!!”

And so it went that all the remaining teams performed the battle trial. After several discussions on proper heroics, All Might dismissed the class to return to their normal school day. After the day concluded, the group of Ian, Gabbie, Nicoleta and Chae-Yeong gathered outside the UA Barrier.

“That was pretty intense for our first taste of heroism” Ian began

“Oh really? No, these bruises you gave me on my midsection are peachy.” Gabbie complained.

“I’m sorry, who went running in to fight the one person whose Quirk we didn't know anything about??”

-Mom. Dad. Please stop fighting.- Chae-Yeong signed sarcastically

“If you two keep this up all year I am going to shave Gabbie bald in her sleep.” Nicoleta groaned.

“But--” The two both began

-HUG AND REMEMBER YOU LOVE EACH OTHER- Chae-Yeong signed angrily.

The two siblings flinched and hugged each other tight. After a beat the group all sighed.

“So. I guess this is the start. What do you think the year has in store for us?” Ian asked

That evening…

On a rooftop somewhere in the night, two figures watched over the city as it slept. One was large and imposing, their face shrouded by the night. The other was smaller and sat with their legs tucked under them, looking up at the larger individual.

“You got that message from Daniel, a few weeks back, yeah? Bout those kids he wanted us to keep an eye on?”

“Yeah. Watched their UA auditions. I think they could be...helpful.” the larger figure replied.

“He said he didn't want his kids gettin’ mixed up with his old crew.”

“He said he wanted it to be their choice. So, we’ll let them choose.”

At the same time, in the underbelly of the city, a loathsome group sat in comfort, surrounded by trinkets of unspeakable deeds. One of them sat in a chair adorned of gold and sipped a glass of wine. They gestured to the feminine figure in the shadows and they stepped forward.

“I hear you have family in town, my dear.” The shadow spoke.

“It is of no concern to you, sir. I can--”

The shadow rose a hand to silence her. “We are your family too, my dear. Your business...is our business.”

Chapter end.

#Zaku's Fan Fiction #My Hero Academia #Boku No Hero Academia #my hero academia fanfic

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nerdymovielover-blog · 7 years

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Commentary on “Branch and the Cooking Catastrophe”

Pg. 2-3: He didn’t want to move into one of the colorful, fuzzy pods that hung from the branches of the trees in Troll Village. That just wasn’t his style. No, Branch planned on staying underground. He liked it there. He liked the dim light and the smell of the cool soil. He’d even made friends with a couple of worms who’d passed through a few times. Not close friends, but friends. Maybe he could make a few changes. Add a skylight to let in a little sunshine now and then. A patio to enjoy on a nice day. And he’d always wanted a hot tub to soak in!

Honestly, I love the idea of Branch still living in a bunker even when he has his colors back. This passage shows that parts of Branch’s personality when he was grey still remain, which would imply he was always very independent and reclusive. Maybe he was the kid who liked to run off alone and have adventures (or at least the adventures you can have when your tree home is stuck in a cage). Also, does anyone else find it adorable that Branch always wanted a hot tube to soak in?

Pg. 3: Peering into the eyepiece of his periscope, Branch saw Cooper standing on his stoop. “Be right there, Cooper!” Branch shouted into a speaking tube. Up above, Cooper was startled to hear his friend’s voice. “Where are you, Branch? I hear you, but I don’t see you! Have you found a way to make yourself . . . INVISIBLE?”

I feel like we all have a friend like Cooper. He’s so cute.

Pg. 4-5: “I brought you this!” Cooper said. “From Queen Poppy!” He handed Branch the envelope. “From Poppy?” Branch asked, excited.

AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW! Branch is excited to hear from Poppy. He’s like a puppy!

Pg. 6: When Branch got to Poppy’s pod, he ran inside without knocking. “Poppy!” he gasped, breathing hard. “What is it? What’s the emergency? Are you in danger? Are we ALL in danger?”

Poor Branch. Still paranoid. But it’s still so funny.

Pg. 16: “But where will we find these recipes?” Gristle asked. “Um, in your kitchen?” Branch suggested. “I have a kitchen?” Gristle said. “I mean . . . to the Royal Kitchen!”

So, Gristle still has some growing up to do. And now, I want to go on a bit of a tangent: Gristle Jr. was an interesting character, I think. He wasn’t just a spoiled prince who was given the crown. He was taught by his father that he would never attain happiness unless he ate a troll. According to the Trolls website, Gristle Sr. was driven out of Bergen Town after the trolls escaped. So Gristle Jr. was thrust into kingship, whether or not he was ready for it. Even worse, he had his father’s reputation and supposed mistake (“letting” the trolls escape) hanging over his head. Who knows what age Gristle Jr. took the throne? Psychologically, he’s still only a boy, and he has a lot of growing up to do.

Pg. 17-18: Branch nodded. He’d been there the night Chef was thrown out of the castle. The evil, power-mad cook hadn’t been seen since. It was rumored that she now lived somewhere deep in the forest with Creek, a Troll who had been thrown out of the castle along with her, and used his hair to scrub her dishes.

This is interesting simply because it follows the post-movie-events canon we see the novelization of the film. Makes me wonder if this will affect the second film.

Pg. 21-23: In a dark corner of the big kitchen, a tall, narrow door stretched to the ceiling. A sign on the door said “Chef’s Secret Recipe Closet! Keep Out Or You’ll Be Sorry! I Mean It! Signed, Chef. PS: I really mean it!” “That’s great!” Branch said. “She must have kept her recipes in this closet!” “Yeah,” Gristle said, “but we can’t go in there.” Branch snorted. “Why not?” “Because it says right on the sign that we’ll be sorry!” The king pointed at the door. “And she really means it!” “Look around,” Branch said calmly. “Do you see Chef anywhere?” Gristle looked. “No,” he admitted. “But she could be hiding!” Branch sighed. “She isn’t anywhere near this castle. Or Bergen Town, for that matter.” “How do you know?” Gristle asked suspiciously. “Because you banished her!” Branch said. “And when King Gristle banishes Bergens, they stay banished! Right?” Gristle stood a little taller. “That’s right!” “So there’s NO WAY Chef is hiding in this kitchen!” “RIGHT!” “Now let’s OPEN THIS SECRET RECIPE CLOSET!” “YEAH!” Gristle flung open the door. ZWIT! ZWIT! ZWIT! Arrows shot out of the closet, knocking off his crown and pinning it to the wall! The king and Branch hit the deck. “Of course,” Branch admitted from his spot on the greasy floor, “the closet could be booby-trapped.” “You think?” Gristle said sarcastically, carefully reaching up to retrieve his crown.

Lesson learned: take Chef’s threats seriously. :D

Pg. 37: “I’m just not sure it’s such a good idea, making cookies in the shape of Trolls,” Branch explained. “I mean, we don’t want to remind the Bergens of how much they enjoyed eating us.” Biggie nodded slowly. “You’re right. I never thought of that.” He looked disappointed for a moment, remembering how much time he’d put into making the big Troll cookies. Branch was afraid he was going to cry. But then Biggie brightened. “I guess we’ll just have to eat them ourselves!” He picked up a Branch cookie. CRUNCH! Biggie bit off an ear. Branch flinched as Biggie munched happily.

Okay…….did that seem morbid to anyone else? But it’s also kind of a funny image in my head. Sweet, innocent Biggie biting the ear off a Branch cookie, and Branch is just staring at him like “WTF?”

Pg. 42: Bridget looked surprised and concerned. “You need help? From me? Did you hurt yourself? Are you in danger? Is someone chasing you?” She looked past Gristle down the hall to see if any monsters were after him.

Seriously, I’m going to get a cavity with all the sweet moments in this book, and I’m not even halfway through it! And, later, we see this: “Gristle hesitated. He didn’t want to work with other Bergens. He wanted to work with Bridget. He was in love with her.” Seriously! Is anyone else just saying “Awww” out loud and weirding out the people around them?

Pg. 48: “After this picnic, might Your Majesty grant me the right to serve Chef’s famous pizza here at my roller rink?” Captain Starfunkle folded his hands and bowed while looking up at the king imploringly. “Hmm,” Gristle said, pretending to think about it. It was a trick his father had taught him. “Son, when someone asks you a question, always act like you’re thinking about it,” the old king had advised. “That way, you’ll seem smart.”

Yeah, I’m sorry to say this, but I think Gristle Sr. had quite a few hits and misses in the parenting department.

Pg. 61: Branch hated being told to relax. It reminded him of Creek, and he had never liked Creek. He hadn’t been surprised when Creek turned out to be a traitor, betraying the other Trolls to save his own skin.

Interesting. I just can’t decide if Branch is a perceptive troll or if he was jealous that Creek and Poppy seemed to be an item. I’ll leave that for the discussion boards.

Pg. 66: “There could be protests! Riots! Looting!” Gristle said, looking scared. “It could mean the end of my reign as king of the Bergens!” “Really?” Branch asked. “Just because the pizza didn’t taste right?” “You obviously don’t know Bergens,” Gristle said.

Okay, I can understand being mad at the guy who was on the throne when your prized trolls escaped from under your noses. But pizza? Really?

Pg. 69-70: Branch thought for a moment. He knew it was important to Poppy for the picnic to be a big success for the Trolls and the Bergens. And if that meant scaling Mount Gloom to get special salt, so be it.

Aww, look at Branch being all dedicated and stuff to his lady love.

Pg. 71-73: “You know, you should probably ride on my shoulder,” Gristle suggested. “Why would I want to do that?” Branch asked. Gristle sighed. There seemed to be no way around just telling Branch the truth. “Because we’ll go faster if I don’t have to wait for you to catch up. Because your legs are, you know, a little shorter than mine.” Gristle was right. Branch did not react well. “Oh, so you think my legs are too short, huh?” he said, bristling with anger. Gristle shook his head rapidly. “Oh, no, no, no. it’s not that. They’re not too short. They’re just . . . short.” “Actually,” Branch said, trying to keep his cool, “the problem might be that you’ll have trouble keeping up with me.” Gristle couldn’t help snorting with laughter. “Me? Have trouble keeping up with a Troll? I seriously doubt—” Before the king could finish his sentence, Branch whipped his long blue hair around his head three times and shot it forward. WHAP! It wrapped around the branch of a tree. Branch zipped forward! As he passed the branch, he unwrapped his hair and shot it toward a low branch on another tree. He used his long hair to swing from tree to tree, rapidly making his way through the woods. “WHOOO-HOOOOO!” Branch whooped as he zoomed through the forest, propelled by his own hair power. Gristle stared. “Huh,” he said to himself. “I wonder if that’s why they call him Branch.” Then he realized if he stood there any longer, Branch would swoon swing out of sight. “HEY, WAIT FOR ME! MY HAIR’S TOO SHORT TO DO THAT! ALSO, I DON’T KNOW HOW!”

Leave it to Branch to show up Gristle. He is Branch, the Swinging Troll of the Forest!

Pg. 75-76: “Hey,” Gristle said. “There’s really nothing wrong with hitching a quick ride. You might even enjoy it. Just say the word and I’ll pick you up and put you on my shoulder.” Branch looked up at the Bergen towering over him. Branch realized it made sense for him to accept Gristle’s offer. He’d have to swallow his foolish pride for the sake of Poppy’s big Troll-Bergen Picnic.

Now this is the real challenge for Branch. He’s such an independent person that he can’t stand the thought of relying on someone else.

Pg. 102: Branch whispered to Gristle, talking fast. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll distract the wing-dingle, and you make a run for it. Get in that cave!” Gristle looked confused. “How are you going to distra—” Branch had already jumped up and was running across the side of the mountain. “HEY, WING-DINGLE! LOOK AT ME! I MAY BE TINY, BUT I’M DELICIOUS!”

I feel a strange mix of amusement and concern.

If you guys would like me to review any other Trolls books, like the Little Golden Book or Follow Your Art, let me know!

#dreamworks trolls #trolls book #Branch

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towine · 7 years

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[prompto/noctis] come and get your love

~6k / self-indulgent valentine’s day fic ao3 link: [x]

summary: Prompto really, really liked Noctis. And he really wanted Noctis to know.

hello! i love these boys!!!! so much so that they pulled me out of my year-long writing drought and made me want to try my hand at ffxv fic, so, here is my humble attempt. thanks for reading! - The first person Prompto asked for advice from was Ignis.

The few times they’d met were only whenever Ignis was at Noctis’ apartment, but Prompto had figured that was enough for him to consider Ignis a friend. Ignis seemed pretty cool and smart, like he must know about so many more things than Prompto did. He seemed like a good place to start. And most importantly, he was the person who saw Noctis the most besides Prompto himself.

Ignis had given Prompto his number when they first met, explaining that he could contact him anytime, especially if something ever happened to Noctis or the both of them. Prompto didn’t ever think he’d talk to Ignis about something like this, but. He did say anytime.

Prompto spent approximately an hour lying in his bed as he agonized over the text. He wondered how much detail he should say, how direct he should be. He typed something only to quickly backtrack, thinking hard about every word.

In the end, he settled on: hey ignis!!!

The reply was prompt: Hello, Prompto.

Prompto chewed on his lip, wondering how to say this.

so bond day is coming up and there’s something i want to ask you

This time, Ignis’ reply was belated: … I am listening tentatively.

Prompto internally screamed. IT’S NOT LIKE THAT

Oh. Well in that case, how can I help?

Prompto took a deep breath, then typed the words he had planned carefully in his head.

so i was thinking of getting noctis something but i’m kind of out of ideas. what do you think he would like?

Prompto pressed his burning face against his pillow. This was a terrible idea, but the text was sent and he couldn’t do anything about it now. Maybe Ignis would think Prompto meant it platonically; friends exchanged gifts on Bond Day just as often as lovers did. But it would be nice to give Noctis something that showed Prompto really was… interested. In that way. Gods, this was embarrassing. Prompto pressed his face harder into his pillow. Maybe he could just suffocate here instead and end his suffering.

He waited for his phone to buzz. And waited. And waited. Ignis seemed to be really thinking about it.

Then, finally: Make something. The crown prince can get almost anything in the city that can be bought, but something you made would be—well, priceless.

Prompto blinked. wow you should write slogans for bond day cards

Good night, Prompto.

Prompto grinned. Make something. He could probably do that. He’d start brainstorming tomorrow.

thanks though ignis!!! for real

Anytime.

A moment, and then: Flowers are especially nice to bring to confessions, as well.

To which Prompto said: GOOD NIGHT.

On the way to class that morning, Prompto thought hard about what Ignis said. Making something was easier said than done. Prompto couldn’t cook like Ignis—any meal he attempted for Noctis would end in smoke and flames and embarrassment. And Noctis probably ate the best foods in the world, there was no way Prompto could make anything nearly adequate enough.

On Bond Day, most people gave tokens—something they wore to display that they were bonded to someone else. Prompto had seen people give necklaces, earrings, pins, clothing… But what would Noctis want? What did Noctis like? Prompto thought: video games, sweets, comic books… Augh, none of this was helpful. Prompto ran his hands through his hair in frustration, not caring if he messed it up. His head hurt. He just wanted to get Noctis something nice.

He dragged himself to his classroom, slumping into his seat in front of Noctis.

Noctis asked, mildly concerned, “Hey, you okay?”

“’M Fine,” Prompto mumbled. Noctis raised his brows. Prompto just crossed his arms on Noctis’ desk, burying his face. “Bond Day stuff, that’s all,” he explained.

“Oh.” Noctis’ voice sounded a little awkward. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Prompto sighed, looking up. “Nah, it’s—I’ll figure it out. I was just wondering, um.” He considered how much he wanted to say. He already regretted bringing up Bond Day at all, but maybe this could be his chance to probe into what Noctis liked. “Well, I was just wondering what a good gift would be.”

Noctis was quiet for a moment. “Oh,” he said, again. “Do you—do you have someone in mind?”

“Um.” Prompto tried really, really hard to stop his face from getting hot. “U-um, maybe. Well, just like, in general, I guess—um, what do you think would be a good gift? Just like, you know, hypothetically.”

Well, that came out smoothly. Prompto had never before wanted to kick himself as much as he did now.

Noctis seemed surprised at the question. “Me?”

Prompto just nodded, not trusting himself with words at the moment.

Noctis considered, idly fiddling with a pencil on his desk. Prompto looked at him, with his messy hair and blue eyes, his lips pursed just slightly as he thought. And as embarrassing as it was, Prompto could feel his chest squeeze; he really, really liked Noctis. And he really wanted Noctis to know.

“I guess,” Noctis began, his expression thoughtful, “I don’t really have anything specific in mind, but… The important thing is showing that you care, right? And… I guess the best gifts are one where—where you can tell the people are, um. Bonded.”

He looked down, drumming the pencil against his desk. Prompto could see red in the rounded tips of Noctis’ ears, and it was all—damn it, it was all so cute Prompto kind of felt like exploding.

Noctis continued, “The only Bond Day gifts I’ve given were like, for Gladio and Ignis and my dad. It wasn’t—you know.”

Prompto nodded. “But what would you like?”

“Huh?”

“What would make you happy to get? From anyone.”

Noctis grimaced, which was surprising. “I feel like I’ve gotten every possible kind of Bond Day gift.”

“Really?” Then Prompto realized: he was the prince, Noctis had no shortage of admirers. This was the first Bond Day they would experience together since becoming friends, so Prompto had never seen but could certainly imagine the piles of gifts Noctis would find on his desk, at the front door of his apartment building, probably on the steps of the Citadel, too.

That just made the stakes of his own gift that much higher. What could Prompto possibly give him that he hadn’t received already?

“Yeah,” Noctis sighed, propping his elbow on his desk and leaning his cheek against his hand. “But all of those people are just… strangers. None of them really know me besides my title. I guess I’m flattered, but…”

“But…” Prompto licked his lips. “They weren’t… personal to you?”

Noctis looked at him, then. His eyes were bright, and a stray lock of dark hair tickled against his cheek. Prompto wanted to touch it, to use his fingers to gently tuck it behind Noctis’ ear.

The classroom door opened and their teacher strode into the room; all chatter died as she greeted the class, and began writing the day’s lesson plan on the board.

Prompto turned around in his seat, thoughts swirling in his head.

Something personal. Something that showed Prompto really knew Noctis, in a way that no one else really did.

Prompto strolled through the crowded streets of the shopping district, looking through storefront windows as he passed, trying to get some inspiration. Normally, he and Noctis walked this way to get to the arcade after school, but Noctis had a meeting with his father today, and apologetically told Prompto he couldn’t. He was a busy guy, Prompto understood. Besides, it gave him a chance to think of gift ideas without Noctis being suspicious.

There was a tremendous amount of people shopping. Bond Day always brought out the crowds, and everywhere he looked, Prompto saw signs advertising matching gifts for you and your beloved. They were all shiny and expensive and completely outside of Noctis’ interests, as well as Prompto’s price range.

He stopped in front of one store. Inside the window, there was a display of new fishing rods, gleaming and impressive. Noct liked fishing, Prompto remembered. Maybe something in here—

“Prompto!”

Prompto turned, and saw Gladio and Iris emerge from the bustling crowd. Gladio carried a number of shopping bags in his arms while Iris waved enthusiastically at Prompto.

“Hey!” Prompto said, grinning.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Gladio said, bumping Prompto’s shoulder. “Don’t want to come train with me and Noct, is that it?”

“Er,” Prompto stammered, remembering the last time he went with Noctis on training day and he was somehow persuaded into a crash course in sword training. Prompto’s arms were sore for a week. “I-I’m very busy with school, you know that.”

“Sure,” Gladio said. “Must be hard to do homework between trips to the arcade.” Iris giggled at that.

“Listen,” Prompto said, “I’ll have you know I’m not on my way to the arcade right now.”

“Oh, are you shopping for Bond Day, too?” Iris asked. “Gladio just helped me buy a bunch of presents for my friends!”

“Is that so? What did you get?”

Iris dug through one of the bags in Gladio’s hands. She pulled out bundles of string, in all sorts of colors: blue, red, pink, orange. Prompto tilted his head, confused.

“I’m making bracelets!” Iris explained excitedly. “We went to the craft store and found a bunch of colors, and beads, too, look!” She pulled out a small bag of beads in different shapes and colors.

“Wow, you know how to make bracelets?” Prompto said, genuinely impressed.

Iris nodded. “I practiced a lot and I’m pretty good at it now.”

“Huh.” The cogs in Prompto’s head were turning. Maybe something like this… It’d be kind of childish, maybe, and he probably wouldn’t make it very well, but it would be something unique. He could make one for him, and one for Noctis—the thought made Prompto’s heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Hey, Iris,” he said, “do you think you could show me how to make one?”

Iris gasped, “Really?”

Prompto nodded. “I think that’s a really good idea for a Bond Day gift.”

Iris beamed. “Then of course I can show you! Do you want to go back to the craft store, look at some colors? Oh, and some beads? There are so many cute beads!”

“Why don’t we stop to eat first?” Gladio suggested, patting her head. “We just spent two hours there, I think we should take a break.” He said to Prompto, “You should come with.”

“If you’re finished shopping, that is,” Iris added.

“Thanks to you, I think I’ve found what I’m looking for,” Prompto said, and smiled. He started considering what colors Noctis would like.

As they started walking towards the nearest restaurant, Gladio said, “So. Fishing store, huh? Any reason you were looking there?”

“Uh, that was—! I mean, it was just there and, and my eyes were just. Also there. And—and no other reason really.”

Gladio gave Prompto a long stare. “… Okay.”

“Doesn’t Noctis like fishing?” Iris chimed in.

“Wow, I am starving, let’s eat already,” Prompto said, loudly, pushing ahead of them and ignoring the smirk on Gladio’s face.

Learning to weave bracelets wasn’t as hard as Prompto expected—it was simple enough for Iris to teach him during lunch, but he definitely needed to practice. His first attempt was uneven and sad, and too small to fit on anyone’s wrist besides maybe a child’s. Prompto wondered if he could somehow subtly measure the width of Noctis’ wrist, wrap his hand around the fine bones there and feel his pulse against his skin.

Prompto fumbled with the weaving as he thought about it. Focus, he needed to focus.

He settled on the colors blue, silver, and a shining gold he found at the craft store, which Iris was enthusiastic about when he picked it. He thought it would make the bracelet look nicer, give it a shine that a string bracelet wouldn’t normally have. A small part of him wanted the gold to remind Noctis of Prompto.

His phone buzzed from over on his bed, and Prompto looked up from his desk to see who it was.

It was Noct. Hey prom

Prompto reached over for his phone and texted: sup

Noctis didn’t answer immediately. Prompto went back to weaving. His phone buzzed again, and he read: Are you home right now?

Prompto raised an eyebrow. He replied: yeah. why?

Noctis took a moment, the little dots on Prompto’s screen telling him he was typing. Then Noctis said: Is it alright if I come over? It’s ok if you’re busy

Prompto blinked. He looked at the time—it was late, the city was dark and quiet. Noctis had been to Prompto’s place before, but never at this time of night. Worry gnawed at Prompto’s stomach, but he didn’t think Noctis would ask if it wasn’t important. He said, of course that’s fine noct

Ok cool because I’m at your door

“What?” Prompto shoved his bracelet and string into one of his desk drawers before quickly making his way to the front door. He peered through the peephole and sure enough, there was Noctis, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. Prompto pulled the door open.

“Noct,” he said, “What are you doing here so late?”

Noctis opened his mouth, then stopped. “Um,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That meeting with my dad… It, uh…It was…” He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he had a headache.

“Hey.” Prompto reached out, grasping Noctis’ arm. “It’s okay.”

Noctis exhaled, then opened his eyes. “I’m really sorry to intrude. I can—I can go now.”

“No,” Prompto said. Noctis looked tired, fragile, like he was barely holding the pieces of himself together. “Come in, dude, I get the feeling you don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Noctis didn’t say anything, but his expression softened and his shoulders relaxed, just a little. Prompto stepped away from the door as Noctis toed off his shoes and came in.

The house was quiet and empty—it always was. Prompto never realized this was something they were both used to. Maybe this was why Noctis didn’t mind him coming over so much, and why Prompto didn’t mind Noctis being here now. That, and the simple fact that Prompto would do anything for Noctis, if he asked.

“Do you want anything?” Prompto gestured to the kitchen. Noctis shook his head. “Okay. Wanna just chill in my room?” Noctis shrugged. Prompto took that as a yes and led the way upstairs.

When they first started hanging out, he was always self-conscious about showing Noct his place. He figured Noctis was used to his own room at his condo, which was much nicer and more spacious than Prompto’s own small, plain bedroom. Prompto’s room had none of the expensive furnishings and fine bedsheets that Noctis’ room did, but the first time Noctis came over, he didn’t blink twice. Only flopped down onto Prompto’s bed like it was his own, and asked if he had any video games.

Noctis did much the same now when Prompto opened the door to his bedroom, heading immediately for the bed and lying down on it heavily. Prompto turned on his desk lamp and sat in his chair, swiveling it to face Noctis. Noctis didn’t say anything. He grabbed a pillow, pressed it against his face.

They stayed like that for a minute, silent. Prompto waited. If Noctis wanted to talk, he would talk.

Finally, Noctis sighed, then said, “I started magic training with my dad.” It was a little muffled by the pillow.

“Oh,” Prompto said. He wasn’t sure what else to say, but clearly something about it was bothering Noctis. “How did it go?”

“It was... fine, I guess.” Noctis lifted the pillow off his face and hugged it with his arms, instead. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke. “Just tiring. I hadn’t seen my dad in a while, and he looked—different. Older.” Noctis’ brows furrowed, troubled.

Prompto said, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s—it’s what it is.” Noctis turned on his side to face Prompto, still hugging the pillow. He looked very young. Prompto couldn’t imagine what it felt like, having the burden of kingship looming over his shoulder, being reminded of it every time he saw his father, his hair a little grayer and eyes a little more tired each day. Prompto wished he could do something. The helplessness he felt was agonizing.

“Tell me about your pictures,” Noctis said suddenly.

“What?”

“Your pictures.” Noctis pointed to the collage of photos Prompto kept taped on the wall in front of his desk. They were pretty random—a sunset Prompto caught on his way home one day, a bird sitting on a window sill, their school building on a rainy day. Prompto didn’t consider himself an expert by any means, but sometimes he got lucky and captured something nice. Still, showing them off to Noctis was a little embarrassing, but if that was what he wanted—Prompto would always oblige.

“Ah…” Prompto ran a hand through his hair, sheepish. “You know me, I always like to take pictures. Sometimes I keep the good ones.”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm…” Prompto studied the photos; there were kind of a lot. “Maybe this one.” He pointed to one of Gladio swinging his practice broadsword during training, the weapon raised high in the air by Gladio’s strong arms. It was pretty cool, but Prompto recalled specifically why he liked this one. “Remember this? Gladio was gonna show you a new technique and he started doing it, but I guess he was trying a little too hard, and—”

“And he tore his pants,” Noctis finished, grinning.

Prompto laughed aloud. “Yeah, he was so embarrassed. I felt so bad but gods, that was so funny. At least I got a picture before disaster struck.” Prompto laughed hard again, his cheeks aching with the force of it.

Noctis muffled a laugh into the pillow. It made Prompto smile even bigger.

When Noctis finished, he pointed and said, “Is that you?”

Prompto looked: it was one of the first selfies he took, back when he was rounder in the cheeks and stomach and was determined to lose it all before he befriended Noctis. Prompto sputtered, “O-Okay, we’re not looking at that one!”

“I remember back then,” Noctis said. He was smiling a little. “What’s wrong? You were cute.”

That made Prompto blush hard. “I was not!”

“Sure you were.” Noctis looked nostalgic, thinking back on it. “You were a lot shyer back then.”

“Y-Yeah, well.” Prompto shrugged a little, looking back at his younger self. “I had some growing up to do, I guess.”

“It would have been nice,” Noctis started, then stopped. He looked like he hadn’t meant to say that. At Prompto’s confused look, he continued, “It would have been nice… to know you better back then, too.”

Prompto's heart fluttered, just a little. He ducked his head, plucking at a loose string on his sweater. Maybe all the shyness hadn't quite left yet. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He looked up and smiled. “Well, I’m here now.”

Noctis hid half his face behind the pillow, and mumbled, “Yeah.” They were quiet, again.

Then Noctis seemed to notice something—he propped himself up on one elbow and said, “Is that… me?”

Prompto knew what picture it was: the one of Noctis’ profile, laughing at something Prompto had said, his smile half hidden by his hand. It was a little blurry, but Prompto remembered liking it so much, his heart warming when he looked at it. Noctis had never noticed it before on the previous times he visited, and Prompto had never really thought about it.

Prompto said, “Yeah. I don’t know if you remember me taking that.”

“You take so many pictures, there’s no way I could remember every time.” Noctis looked flustered. “Didn’t think you’d keep the ones of me, though.”

“Why not?” Prompto blurted. He couldn’t fathom it. “You’re my best friend, of course you belong here.”

Noctis was silent. He stared, as if stunned by Prompto’s words. He hid behind the pillow again, and said so softly Prompto almost missed it: “Thanks.”

Prompto blinked. “For what?”

“For letting me be here.” Noctis gestured vaguely. “For—for being a good best friend.”

Prompto reached over and patted Noctis’ knee. “Of course, Noct.” He smiled. “Now, as per proper best friend behavior, I think it’s time for some video games.”

Noctis looked up at that, and moved to sit up on the bed. “Can we play that one we played last time? The fighting one?”

“Sure,” Prompto said, getting up to turn on his TV and get out his controllers. “If you’re ready to get your ass kicked again.”

“That was once—”

“Twice!”

“Fine, twice. But I’ve grown since then, as a person.”

“Shut up,” Prompto laughed, lightly shoving Noctis over to make room on the bed. Their knees bumped as they sat next to each other, warm and familiar.

It was around midnight when Noctis finally said he should probably call someone to pick him up. Both of them were tired and yawning, but Prompto felt good. Happy. It was always nice hanging out with Noctis like this.

They played one more round before Noctis’ driver arrived and knocked at Prompto’s door. As Noctis stepped outside into the cold, late night air, he said a sleepy, “See you tomorrow, Prom,” before sliding into the backseat.

The car pulled away. Prompto closed the front door, leaned his forehead against it. His heart was racing. He made his way back up to his room. It was late, but he wanted to weave just a little before he slept. He took the bracelet out of his desk drawer, ran his fingers lightly over what he’d made so far. It looked nice, he thought, and he really hoped Noctis would like it.

As he sat there, fiddling with the bracelet, Prompto looked up at the photo of Noctis again and felt his heart swell. It felt like longing. Maybe even love.

School was buzzing when Prompto got there. It was Bond Day, after all. Everywhere he looked he saw people exchanging gifts, flowers, candies. He saw pins on people’s uniforms and bright new necklaces around people’s necks. And flowers. So many flowers. Prompto didn’t mind, exactly, but it made the weight of the box in his pocket feel even heavier, made the nervousness in his stomach flutter just that much more.

Every step to homeroom was a trial, but Prompto persevered. He was ready. He pulled open the door.

Everyone turned to look at him.

There were giggles, whispers. Did he have something on his face? Was his uniform on backwards? Prompto looked down at himself and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. What the hell was everyone’s problem, then?

Prompto ignored them, walking past them all to his desk. That was when he realized what they were all giggling at him for.

His desk was covered in flowers. Flowers Prompto had never seen before, of every color, shape, and size. There was a large vase of them on top of his desk, and more bouquets around it. They were in his chair, too, unbelievably. Prompto gaped.

Of all the flowers, he noticed one in particular: it was blue, with many wispy, delicate petals. It was nestled amongst all the flowers in the large vase, dream-like and pretty.

“Seems like someone has an admirer.”

That was when Prompto realized their teacher had entered the room. He also realized how hot his face had become, how red he must be right now.

“Mr. Argentum, if you are able, please take a seat. Class has begun,” she said, the amused curve of her lips betraying her stern tone.

“U-Uh, yes.” Prompto took the vase off his desk and set it on the floor, along with the flowers in his chair. He could still hear giggles, and he wanted to melt into the floor right there.

As the teacher began the lesson, Prompto realized another thing, something that cut through all the embarrassment and made his stomach sink with disappointment:

Noctis wasn’t here.

His desk was empty. Prompto thought maybe he was running late, some sort of emergency princely duties keeping him. But after five, twenty, forty minutes into the lesson, Prompto accepted that Noctis wasn’t showing up today.

He dug his hand into his pocket, felt the corners of the box he put the bracelet inside digging into his palm, and tried to focus on the lesson.

Prompto had no idea what he was going to do with the flowers. There was no way he could carry them all by himself, but he couldn’t just leave them here. He needed his desk, dammit. He couldn’t do anything with it covered in flowers.

Everyone else had left the classroom already, the day-ending bell having rung a while ago. Prompto could hear the bustle of people in the hallway dying down as people left school to go celebrate their Bond Day properly. Meanwhile, Prompto was here, figuring out what to do with his life. He didn’t even get to confess like he meant to. The thought made Prompto sigh and slump his shoulders.

At least the flowers were nice, whoever they were from. Prompto lifted up the large vase. The flowers smelled sweet and light. Prompto couldn’t help but like them. He set the vase back on his desk and looked at the blue flower again. He pulled it out of the bouquet, twirling the stem in his fingers. The petals swayed gently with the movement.

“Do you need help with those?”

Prompto spun around.

Noctis stood at the door of the classroom. He was blushing and had his arms crossed in what Prompto knew was an attempt to be casual. He kept his gaze locked with Prompto’s, something like determination burning in his eyes despite the nervous line of his lips.

“Noctis,” Prompto breathed. “You—You weren’t here today.”

Noctis shook his head. He took a halting step forward, then another, approaching Prompto. “I was… a little scared, honestly.”

“Scared? Why?”

Noctis looked at him with wide, blue eyes. He gestured at the flowers. “I was scared of what you’d say, I guess.”

Prompto looked at the flowers, then at Noctis, then at the flowers again. He may have stopped breathing. “These are from you?”

Noctis smiled a little, then nodded. He gently took the blue flower from Prompto’s hands, studying it. “I had some help from Luna. The flowers in Tenebrae are really nice. She even took care of these ones herself.” He held it out for Prompto. Prompto reached up for it, felt their fingers brush as he took it. Noctis said, “I just—um. I wanted the best for you.”

Prompto stared. Here was Noctis, blushing and sweet and vulnerable. Here was this boy he had admired for so long, and loved for months, baring his heart out for Prompto when Prompto had always believed it to be the other way around. He must have missed something, along the way. He couldn’t possibly have been this blind.

“Prompto?” Noctis said, sounding uncertain.

“I, um!” Prompto stammered, shoving his hand into his pocket and digging out the box he had prepared. “I got something for you, too.” He finally, finally handed it over to Noct.

Noctis looked surprised. “You—”

“Yep,” Prompto said, mouth running faster than his thoughts. “I spent hours on it, actually. I just, I really wanted it to be nice for you, because you’re—you’re. Well, you’re Noct. And you’re important to me.” Prompto swallowed. “And I like you. Like, really like you. And I wanted to tell you that today but you weren’t… You weren’t here.”

Noctis gave Prompto a small, apologetic smile. He stepped closer and said, “I’m sorry.”

Prompto shrugged, and smiled back. “It’s okay. You’re here now.” He cradled Noctis’ hands, pushed the box closer to him. “You’re here now, and you can open it.”

Noctis carefully lifted the lid from the box. Inside was the bracelet Prompto spent so long on. The blue, silver, and gold were carefully interwoven, much more neatly than the first time he tried. Dangling from it was a tiny, blue crystal.

Beside it was a matching bracelet, same in color and design except for a pale yellow crystal hanging from it instead.

“This one’s for me, actually,” Prompto said, pointing to the one with a yellow crystal. “But that one’s for you. I thought we could, you know, match.” He lifted the blue crystal bracelet out of the box, shyly offering it to Noctis. Noctis just stared at him, his eyes very bright.

“Sorry it’s not super fancy,” Prompto continued, “I know you probably get really nice gifts from everyone in the city, and this is probably far from the best one, but—but I thought you’d maybe like something I made for you. I also thought you’d like these colors and I—I kind of hoped that the gold would make you think of me b-but—”

Noctis kissed him.

Noctis was kissing Prompto’s mouth with his mouth. Their mouths were touching. They were kissing. They were kissing.

Prompto quickly forgot all the thoughts in his head and focused instead on Noctis. His lips were very soft and his breath was hot against Prompto’s skin. Prompto didn’t really know what he was doing; he’d never kissed anyone before, and never did he expect to kiss Noct someday, no matter how much he imagined it. But he was here now, solid and warm and Prompto wanted to get closer, wanted to feel every inch of him.

He slid his hand into Noctis’ dark hair, angled his head just so, so their lips could meet more comfortably and, oh. That was really nice.

“Prompto,” Noctis breathed between their mouths. And again, “Prom.”

Prompto sighed, pressing his lips to Noctis’ one more time before pulling away, just enough to press their foreheads together. Noctis’ eyes were closed, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Prompto’s heart felt so full and happy he could burst into tiny, little stars.

Noctis’ eyes slowly opened, pupils darker than Prompto had ever seen them.

“Hey,” Prompto said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared it before continuing, “Do you want to try it on?” He still had the bracelet in his hand.

Noctis grinned and exhaled a laugh. “Yeah. I do.”

He offered Prompto his wrist. Prompto held it in his hand, curled his fingers and felt Noctis’ quick-beating pulse under his thumb. Then he slid the bracelet over Noctis’ hand, pulling the loose ends to tighten it. It looked nice on him. Prompto couldn’t stop smiling.

“Put yours on,” Noctis said, pulling the matching one out of the box. This time Prompto held his hand out while Noctis slid the bracelet over it, his fingers lingering against the skin of his wrist, briefly, before letting go.

Prompto looked at it, dangling on his left arm. He hated looking at his right, knowing what secret hid under the wristband he kept there. But this, this didn’t make him feel a hard seed of anxiety in his stomach. This made him feel like he belonged here, like where he was from wasn’t so wrong anymore. Being bonded to someone, to Noctis, felt like finding home.

“It looks good,” Noctis told him. He shyly curled his fingers between Prompto’s, gazed at their identical bracelets, crystals blinking in the light. “You did a good job.”

Prompto rubbed the back of his neck, laughed, “Really? You should have seen the first ones I made. They were pretty bad. But Iris was a good teacher.”

“Iris? Gladio’s sister?”

Prompto nodded. “I had some help. I even asked Ignis for advice.”

“Ignis?”

“I didn’t know who else to ask!”

“… I asked Ignis for help too, actually.”

“WHAT.”

“He was the one who suggested flowers.”

“He told me the same thing! I can’t believe he knew both sides the whole time!” Prompto said despairingly, covering his face with both hands while Noctis laughed at him. He reached up to grasp Prompto’s wrists and pull his hands away.

“Come on, he was just trying to push us in the right direction.”

“I guess…” Prompto pouted, adjusting their hands so he could twine his fingers with Noct’s. “Did he help you set this up, too?”

“Your desk? Y-Yeah.” Noctis ducked his head. “And then I left because—because I was too afraid to face you when it happened I guess. And I didn’t want to make a scene in front of all our classmates.”

“Ah, yes,” Prompto said, smiling, “covering my desk in flowers didn’t make a scene at all.”

Noctis just bent his head down further and hid his face in Prompto’s chest. “I came back because I realized you’d be stuck with all of them, and it'd be my fault.” He looked up. “Did you… like it though?” he asked.

“Of course I did!” Prompto said. “I mean, at first I wanted to be swallowed into a void, but not because I didn’t like the flowers. They’re really nice. No one’s ever—” Prompto swallowed, his cheeks warming up. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

Noctis smiled. It was soft and fond and, Prompto realized, not unfamiliar. Had Noctis always smiled at him this way? The world felt like it had shifted, a little, and Prompto could see clearer than he ever could. Like everything was a little brighter and more vivid.

“Hey,” Prompto said, “let’s get out of here.”

They were still at school, after all. Thankfully no one had walked in on their little moment, but Prompto had had enough of school for the day. He just wanted to spend time with Noctis.

Noctis nodded in agreement, squeezing Prompto’s hand. “I guess I can send someone to collect the flowers,” he offered.

“That would be really nice, thanks.” Prompto grinned.

“Maybe Ignis. It was his idea to begin with.”

“Payback for stringing us along?”

“Something like that.”

Noctis leaned in, his nose nudging against Prompto’s as he sought a kiss. Prompto couldn’t imagine getting used to this. Maybe it would take a few more kisses.

He reached up to touch Noctis’ jaw, his thumb brushing against his cheek. Noctis hummed a soft, pleased sound.

Okay, maybe a lot more kisses. Prompto was more than willing to oblige.

#ffxv #promptis #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #caiwrites #boy!!! promptis sure owned my ass within like the first hour of ffxv #i am rusty but i hope to do them justice!!!

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