#to everyone who said that other flavours are better should know that i had monster energy like once in my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elyvorg · 3 years

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Hypothetically speaking of course due to one of Monokuma’s logic defying motives. If everyones favorite space man was ever turned into an actual tooth and fang monster, taking his issues on NEEDING to be a hero into acount how do you think something like that happening to him, being twisted into a beast like that would affect him? My apologies if this is a odd question I’ve just been thinking up story stuff lately and thought it would be interesting for the hero to become a literal monster in a sense.

Hey, no worries! I'm always up for running my mental simulation of Kaito through interesting scenarios and rambling about the fun ways he responds, and this one's a juicy one. Thanks for the prompt!

(Heck, I hope you don't mind me having gone into so much detail here, because if this is a story idea of yours then I don't want to step on your toes and make you feel like you can't use any of these ideas if you'd been thinking something similar.)

Basically, this would depend a lot on exactly how Kaito “being a monster” worked. Since you left it vague, I decided to just take multiple possible variants of this situation and talk about all of them, because they're all fun in their own way.

Scenario 1: he's still mentally entirely himself, and he can still speak.

If this were the case, Kaito would be basically fine! No problem! Sure, it's kinda freaky to suddenly be in a body like this, but he knows that doesn't change the fact that he's still himself. Kaito has a very strong sense of identity and conviction in who he is, and even this wouldn't shake that. (See also: that one AU of mine in which he found himself in a different human body.) Being physically a "monster" doesn't magically make him a worse person if his mind's still the same.

The only potential issue would be whether or not everyone else would understand that, since Kaito also cares a lot about how other people see him. But if he can still speak, then it should, in theory, be fine, because he can just reassure everybody that it's still him. Communication is important! He might be just a little strained and desperate at first upon seeing everybody freak out at him, but it'd be okay once they got it.

Shuichi and Maki would believe him straight away, because they know Kaito well enough to be able to recognise the way he talks and acts even from a different body, and because they want to trust him. Shuichi would maybe be a bit instinctively freaked out by Kaito's appearance, but he'd also know how much it would hurt Kaito for his sidekick to be afraid of him, so he'd be determined to push that aside and show Kaito that he trusts him.

Maki... Maki gets it. She knows exactly how it feels to be seen as a monster by everybody, to be afraid that the whole group is going to ostracise you and dehumanise you because of something about yourself that you can't help. Kaito has been teaching her to understand that she's not actually a monster despite all appearances and despite how long she believed it herself. She knows Kaito isn't a monster either, no matter what. Maki would never not extend that same compassion and trust back to him.

(Kaito reflects that this is helping him understand Maki Roll's struggles even more, so he can help her even better! So in some ways, this is a good thing, really!)

The rest of the group... some of them might just try to write Kaito off as a monster at first, even after he explains to them that it's still him. Not naming any names, but I think we all know who'd be the worst offender with this. Still, over time, and seeing Shuichi and Maki stand up for Kaito and treat him like they always do, most of the group would get used to it and accept him. They all got used to and accepted Maki within the space of pretty much one chapter; it might even happen quicker for Kaito since he'd still be acting just as trustworthy as ever. Keebo in particular should be good with this, since he can relate to feeling othered just because his body happens to be different from everyone else's.

That said, this is all on the assumption that Kaito gets turned into a monster at some point in the middle of the killing game, which actually kind of makes things easier. He's surrounded entirely by people who already know him and can easily recognise that it's still him once he communicates that to them. It might be harder in the outside world where there'll always be new people, people who'll just see the monster on the outside and might not be willing to listen to him for long enough to realise he's still a good person beneath that. That'd kinda sting a bit, since other people's image of him is so important to Kaito – even if not in quite such a literal way.

Still, given there's nothing Kaito can do about the monster body, he'd be determined not to let it get him down and see this as a challenge to overcome. He'd do everything he could to show the world he's a hero anyway. Hey, maybe this body has cool powers and he could be an actual literal superhero! That'd be awesome, right!?

(oh boy, what if he could fly, he'd be so excited at being able to fly you know he would, he'd give his sidekicks rides, it'd be great)

So in the end, this scenario wouldn't actually set off Kaito's hero issues that badly at all. He knows he hasn't failed anyone in terms of being a hero and still isn't going to, and Shuichi and Maki at least know it's still him and so he can still inspire them just as well like this.

The only thing really relating to his hero issues here would be the fact that finding himself in this body is kinda freaking him out a bit – not in the sense that being a "monster" matters to who he is in any way, but just in the sense that anyone would be freaked out at being trapped in an unfamiliar body that isn't even humanoid, let alone human. But no, of course Kaito isn't freaking out about anything! He's fine, everything's good, he is totally 100% chill with this situation. It'd be a similar flavour of his hero issues as in the canon story: just insistently hiding that something's bothering him and being afraid that he couldn't be a hero any more if everyone knew about it.

In fact, what I think this would set off the most isn't Kaito's hero issues, but Kaito's friendship issues. He's not less of a hero because of this, but this is making people see him differently and be more likely to just not want to trust him or spend time with him in the first place. Kaito already had some subtle insecurity and awkwardness about whether anyone would want to be regular friends with him because of how larger-than-life he always is; this'd set off a similar kind of feeling to that, but much worse.

Like, surely Shuichi doesn't actually want to hang out and be friends with a weird creepy monster? Surely he's even more definitely only sticking around out of still needing Kaito's heroic support and wants to be done with him the moment he's grown independent enough to be able to stand on his own? So, if anything, this'd make Kaito amp up his hero deal more than usual, not because he's worried he's not a hero, but because he's even more afraid that this is all he's got to offer.

Scenario 1b: he's still entirely himself, but he can't speak.

Only a slight variant on the previous scenario. Kaito would still feel the same about himself, but it would be a lot harder for him to communicate this to everybody if his monster form wasn't capable of human speech.

Let's assume everyone would be able to tell it's Kaito anyway. Maybe he's all purple and spiky and recognisably him, or maybe they just use process of elimination in that he's the only one missing. People would be bound to assume at first that he's just been turned into a mindless beast, but Maki and Shuichi, the ones most primarily viewing this situation as something awful for Kaito rather than a potential danger to the rest of the group, are less convinced. They'd be able to spot that he looks more confused and desperate than hostile.

Kaito, of course, wouldn't let the lack of a voice stop him and would do everything he could to communicate that he's still himself and still cares about supporting everyone. He could at least nod and shake his head to answer yes/no questions, and he'd figure out other ways to communicate, too. Maybe he'd lead Maki and Shuichi to the training spot and do push-up motions to get across the fact that he remembers their training sessions and still sees them as his sidekicks. That'd be adorable.

I bet he'd also figure out motions or noises to communicate the most important sentiments such as “I'm here for you”, “I believe in you”, “the impossible is possible!” etcetera, all so he can keep supporting his sidekicks the best he can. In some ways, his hero role doesn't even really need him to communicate anything that complex; he just needs to be there for his sidekicks and give them the nudge they need.

Kaito is so good at communication, after all. It'd be a challenge to learn to adjust and find new ways to communicate without a voice, but Kaito never backs down from challenges!

(All of the issues from the previous version of this scenario with Kaito freaking out about this body and worrying about how others see him would still be here, of course, and probably a good bit worse – but at the same time, it'd also be easier for him to hide those problems from everyone else. It's not as if anyone's going to be expecting him to talk about how he's feeling here.)

Scenario 2: having the body of a monster comes with disturbing violent urges.

The first scenario was a fun exercise in Kaito's self-conviction and determination to overcome any challenge, but what if we did try and make him really question whether or not he can even be a hero any more like this? So let's imagine that, while he is still mostly mentally himself – because if it wasn't really Kaito any more there'd be no point in this – monster-Kaito also has to deal with the intrinsic urge to do monstrous things.

Like, imagine Kaito's there fervently explaining to the group that it's still him, he's still himself, he's not actually a monster in any real way – except then his words die on his tongue as he's suddenly hit with the thought of tearing out Shuichi's throat. Uhhhhhh.

How this goes would really depend on exactly how strong these urges are and whether or not Kaito can control them. (And let’s also assume that he can speak in these scenarios, just for simplicity’s sake.)

Scenario 2a: they're entirely controllable.

In this one, Kaito is sure that he's perfectly capable of ignoring the urges and not acting on them, making them just really annoying and disturbing intrusive thoughts.

Naturally, Kaito would act like nothing's wrong and not tell anybody about this at all and continue to be Fine like he usually is. It'd jab at his hero issues, but not in terms of him actively failing at being a hero for having these thoughts – just in terms of the fear that he might end up failing them if anybody learns about this (or if he did somehow end up acting on them even though he's pretty sure he won't). So, you know, basically like Kaito's hero issues are in canon with him hiding everything he's going through and being terrified of it coming out anyway. But it's all okay so long as he doesn't let anybody see that he's not a perfect invincible hero, right?

Kaito might reflect during this – entirely to himself, of course – that this must be a little bit like what it's like to be Maki. She probably has similar thoughts all the time about all the many ways she could kill the person she's having a friendly conversation with, because her training has ingrained that mindset into her. But that doesn't meaningfully change who she is as a person just because she's been given these disturbing thoughts against her will.

(Maybe, even though Kaito is trying to hide his intrusive thoughts from everyone, Maki would be able to pick up on it a little bit, because she knows the feeling.)

Scenario 2b: the urges are very clearly uncontrollable and Kaito knows it.

If he was able to recognise from the beginning that the violent urges are so strong that they're going to overwhelm him and take control of him sooner or later, Kaito wouldn't take any risks. He'd just shut himself away the moment he realised this, to avoid hurting anyone. It'd basically end up looking a lot like this, except with a very different-looking Kaito.

(This wouldn't even necessarily be that specific to Kaito's hero issues, because any decent person would be terrified of losing control of themselves and hurting someone else like this. I guess it'd just be more amplified for Kaito than it would be for most, because his hero thing is such a big deal to him and he's so scared of failing everyone.)

This scenario might end with Kaito accepting there's no way he can keep safely supporting anyone any more and shifting tactics to do the next most heroic thing he can do – seeing if this new body will help him fight and take down Monokuma while he's still somewhat in control of himself. Even if he'll only end up being killed for breaking the rules, he doesn't exactly have much left to lose.

Scenario 2c, the most fun one: if Kaito thinks he can ignore the urges well enough to be safe around others but turns out to have misjudged his self-control.

(This seems like quite a plausible scenario, really. Even as a human, Kaito is not very self-aware about his difficulty controlling his impulses or his tendency to get riled up easily and potentially lash out at people when he's frustrated or upset. He presents himself as a person who always has himself together and always acts exactly the way he wants to, but that really isn't actually all that true about him.)

Imagine, with Kaito already more on-edge and stressed than normal because of the whole monster thing and the disturbing violent thoughts he keeps having to push down, somebody says something to him that happens to really hit a nerve and set him off. (Not that there's aaanybody in the group who'd be stupid enough do this kind of thing on purpose, not at all.) One moment Kaito's vaguely irritated but in control, the next moment a haze of anger grips him and he's pinned them down with his teeth at their throat and Maki Roll's screaming at him to stop—

—and Kaito does manage to stop himself just in time, but oh god—

—and as he's frozen in horror, still fighting the urge to finish the job, the rest of the group acts. A profusely apologetic Gonta wrestles Kaito down and clamps his jaws shut, rendering him unable to speak to defend himself or apologise – not that he'd even know how to if he could. Others pile on, restraining him, finding something to tie him up with, talking with frantic certainty about how he's a threat and a monster and can't be allowed around anyone.

Through it all, Kaito is using every ounce of his self-control to let it happen, forcibly suppressing the instinct to fight back and maul them. Being manhandled and restrained and talked about like he's not even a person would make him viscerally feel like nothing but a dangerous beast – but after what he almost did, and how much he felt a part of him wanting to do it... aren't they right?

Shuichi and Maki are too shocked to try and defend him in the moment, but they're the only ones standing back and not helping to restrain Kaito. They're the only ones that can see the fear and guilt and pain in his eyes.

(This would absolutely stab right at Kaito's hero issues, with him very openly failing everyone right in front of them all, doing something so undeniably monstrous and proving that he can't possibly be a hero at all. I came up with this specific variant of the scenario basically out of an attempt to find one that'd jab at his hero issues as much as possible.)

Later, as Kaito's tied up alone in a room hating himself and thinking over and over about how he's a failure and the exact opposite of a hero, someone enters the room for the first time since he's been locked away in here. It's Maki. He flinches away as she approaches, terrified of hurting her.

She's here to talk to him, but Kaito can't even speak with a rope roughly tying his jaws shut. So Maki begins to untie it, despite him cowering away and shaking his head and eventually growling at her in desperation to try and get her to stop (what if he hurts her?). She is undeterred, freeing his jaws and then moving to sit a safe distance away, calmly telling him that she knows he won't hurt her, that she's not afraid of him. (She... she really isn't, is she. Why not? She should be.)

Again: Maki gets it. If anyone can help Kaito become less afraid of himself in a situation like this and learn to control these urges that he now knows are capable of overcoming him – but only if he lowers his guard! – it's her, using everything she's learned from him. She's been there herself, more or less. She knows what it's like to be terrified that you're going to end up killing someone. Despite Kaito fervently insisting that she shouldn't have come here at all, Maki eventually convinces him to trust himself and his own desire not to hurt her for long enough to just... talk to her.

The biggest obstacle to Kaito opening up here is just reassuring him that he's not going to hurt Maki while they talk, because that's the only thing he's really got left to lose at this point. He'd actually be surprisingly willing to talk about his failure otherwise, not even bothering to try and insist that he's fine, because everyone's already seen him fail and so there's no point trying to hide it any more. There'd definitely still be a lot of Kaito talking like how he feels about all this shouldn't matter, not when he's a monster who nearly killed someone and still could – but Maki would know what that feels like, too.

Helping talk Kaito through this would also help Maki a lot with her own issues. The biggest argument to make that Kaito isn't a monster here is that he doesn't want to hurt anyone, despite the urges he can't help having. Neither did Maki, ever, despite her orders and her training forcibly instilling a killer's instincts into her. Talking Kaito into accepting this and giving himself a second chance might also end up being the first time Maki properly accepts any of this about herself.

Shuichi is outside the room for the whole conversation, listening in. He's just as worried about Kaito, but Maki knew that Kaito would feel less afraid of hurting someone if there were fewer people there, so she told Shuichi to let her go in alone, at least at first. Eventually Maki manages to help Kaito trust himself enough that he feels safe having Shuichi there as well, and Shuichi makes it equally clear that he still believes in Kaito no matter what. They are friends.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #kaito momota #maki harukawa #shuichi saihara #training trio #friends #kaito's hero issues #v3 aus #my buttons #intrusive thoughts tw #thanks again for the prompt!#and for caring about my thoughts on your idea!#winntersnow

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itsatinylove · 4 years

Text

Tamlin: After the War

Before the war, the Spring Court fell. After the war, the Spring Court almost ceased to exist. Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring, was still there and amongst the ruined lands and buildings, there were families who were unable to flee, affected by the devastations their court had experienced. It is time to rebuild.

Warnings: Tamlin's POV + a little bit smutty + Takes place after #ACOFAS, spoilers may be included.

I do not own this image.

CHAPTER 1

Tamlin felt the chair threaten to collapse underneath his weight, but he was too tired to move. His limbs ached with every movement, causing the chair to croak even louder. Even if the chair collapsed, he would likely allow it and collapse alongside it. It would be easier than standing up and much easier than skinning his latest catch.

A rabbit no larger than a house cat lay across the kitchen counter. While rabbit was not his favourite meat, it strolled into the house with a broken leg, its eyes wide with fear and pain and Tamlin decided to put it out of its misery. It was a bonus that he did not have to hunt any more today.

But the thought of skinning the rabbit, preparing its meat, cooking and then eating it seemed like far too much effort. Starvation often seemed like a better option these days.

Snapping him out of his thoughts, he heard light footsteps enter his home. He needed to remember to repair his broken down wards, but then again, he didn't care who entered his home.

It wasn't Rhysand, not again. It wasn't Lucien either. It was lighter. Quicker.

And then he heard a female scream.

Tamlin rushed out of the kitchen and into his foyer to find a female faerie trembling in the corner, in front of her, a grey wolf baring its yellow teeth. The wolf's growl echoed to the house.

The faerie and the wolf turned to look at Tamlin, one set of eyes filled with fear and the other set were the eyes of a predator.

Tamlin transformed into a beast, a form he was more comfortable in lately. He matched the wolf's growl, deep and low, preparing for a fight that will no doubt, end with him burying the wolf. The wolf bowed and fled the manor. He was relieved, he had had enough of death.

The faerie remained in the corner. Silent, but he could still hear her heartbeat racing. He transformed back into his skin, his eyes traveling over her.

She was not entirely high fae. She was shorter than the average female fae and her ears were slightly longer. Her big eyes were darker than the night sky, but still, they were filled with fear. A look Tamlin was all too familiar with.

She was grasping her left arm with blood leaking through the fingertips on her right hand.

Tamlin walked towards her and she attempted a step back, pushing herself deeper into the corner. Tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

He raised his arms in surrender and walked away, "Follow me to the infirmary, I can heal your arm there."

To his surprise, he heard her racing heart follow him.

He sat down on the stool beside the small medicine cabinet, hoping it made him seem less threatening. Slowly, she released her hand and offered her still bleeding arm to him.

As gently as he could manage, he cleaned the wound. It wasn't caused by the teeth or claws of the wolf.

"I fell." She whispered, wincing as he disinfected the wound. Her body was still trembling.

Tamlin nodded and gestured his large hand across the wound. Her tan skin instantly healed. The touch of her skin tickled his senses. It had been months since he'd seen anyone, friend or foe.

With wide eyes, she bowed slightly, "Thank you, Lord Tamlin."

Tamlin shook his head and left the room, leading her back towards the open front door, "There's no need for that."

The faerie followed him out of the room and stopped at the doorway to the kitchen. She stared into the kitchen at the dead rabbit still sprawled across the table.

"I could prepare that for you, or clean up a bit, to say thank you." She said, her chin raised.

Tamlin sighed and shook his head once more, "There's no need for that either."

She looked around the manor, noticing the wreckage that he once called a home. The furniture was either broken or scattered across the room. The floors were dusty. The vines that once covered the outside of the manor, now crept inside. The windows and doors were either open or shattered and a cool breeze constantly made its way through the manor. Whistling. Laughing. Howling.

"No offense, my Lord, but there does seem to be a need for some cleaning," she rolled up her shredded sleeves and walked into the kitchen, "And I don't accept favors."

Tamlin sat down on the same chair he so reluctantly stood up from earlier and watched as this female skillfully skinned the rabbit in two swift moves. His eyes searched her hands for signs of scars or calluses. There were none. Her build was small, too dainty to be a warrior, at least not a successful one.

Noticing his focused stare while she sliced chunks of meat into cubes, she mumbled, "I'm kitchen staff, or, I was."

"From where?"

She bit her lip and turned her back to him to light the stove fire, tossing the meat in some spices while the oil heated.

"From where?" he asked again, his voice edging on a growl.

"The Court of Nightmares." She said as her voice was drowned out by the sound of sizzling meat.

CHAPTER 2

Tamlin launched out of the chair once more, his right arm gripping both of her arms against her body and his left claw threatening at her neck, “What are you doing here?”

His deep voice rumbled through her, “Please,” she whimpered, “Please, don’t hurt me.”

Tamlin released a low growl as he felt the fear inside her, “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

“I don’t know, the door was open, that wolf was chasing me and I was inside your house before I could decide what to do next.”

Aside from her already escalated heart rate, Tamlin could sense that she was not lying. Slowly, he retracted his claws and backed away, “You’re a far way away from home.”

“That’s not my home, it never was,” she exhaled, stirring the meat. The smell of the cooked meat made Tamlin salivate. It had been months since he had a proper meal. “Please don’t send me back, please don’t tell him that I am here. I ran away after the war, while the borders were open, while everyone was still distracted. I have been on the run ever since.”

Tamlin noticed her clothes were filthy, her face was gaunt, not for fear, but for a lack of eating, a lack of sleeping. He settled back into the chair, “Why did you run away? I hear the Night Court is not as bad as I once thought it was.”

“Perhaps,” she said, plating the hot meat and setting it down in front of him, “But the Court of Nightmares doesn’t get the same treatment the rest of the court gets, least of all Velaris.”

Tamlin resisted the urge to eat as a million questions flooded his brain at once.

“Eat, while it’s still hot.” she said firmly and Tamlin found himself picking up a piece of meat and throwing it into his mouth.

The tender meat melted in his mouth and before he could swallow, his mouth demanded more. He grabbed a few more pieces and shoved them into his mouth. The corner of the female fae’s mouth turned upward into the slightest smile before she quickly turned around and fried the rest of the meat.

She filled his plate once more and he kept eating, he had barely taken a break to breathe. Perhaps rabbit meat wasn’t that bad after all. She plated the last of the meat and offered it to him. Her thin arms reminding him of his manners.

He cleared his throat, swallowing the last of the garlic and peppery taste that lingered in his mouth, “You,” he gestured to the chair on the other side of the table, the chair shifted outwards. She sat down quickly and he pushed the plate towards her, “Eat.”

She protested but Tamlin heard her stomach growl in response. Her cheeks reddened. He pushed the plate towards her once more.

“Thank you, Lord Tamlin.”

“You need a kingdom to be a Lord and my kingdom barely exists, please, call me Tamlin,” he said, leaning back into the chair, resisting the urge to rub his belly, “What should I call you?”

“Kaira.” She mumbled in between chewing. She ate quickly as if the food may escape.

Tamlin stared at her, watching her every move. He watched her jaw as she chewed, her throat as she swallowed. He watched her small fingers pick up each piece of meat. But mostly, he watched her eyes, trying to make sense of why she was here and whether he had it in him to send her back out there, with no weapons.

Her eyes stayed focused on the food and when she reached the last piece, he waited for her to look up at him. She licked her lips slowly, savouring the flavoured grease and looked up at him.

Her eyes were wide, waiting for him to say something. He knew he couldn’t send her out there. Alone. There were monsters in the woods that had on occasion, nearly killed him. Plus, as a female, she had the added threat of fae males. “Stay the night. There’s plenty of room. Finding a bed that isn’t covered in dust and rubble might be a challenge.”

“Thank you.” was all she said before standing up quickly and washing the dishes.

Tamlin sat for a while longer, watching her move around the kitchen, the fullness in his stomach making his body heavy.

Suddenly, he awoke as a splash of cold liquid splattered across his face. He growled loudly and watched the female fae retreat against the kitchen wall, an empty jug in her hand.

“You were having a nightmare.”

“That’s none of your business.” Tamlin growled again, wiping his sleeve across his face. He stood up, aware of how he hovered above her and how her heart rate increased.

She looked around quickly, “You were wrecking the kitchen, I was afraid you might bring the whole house down.”

Tamlin looked around and noticed the shattered plates and mugs. Pots and pants were lying across the floor and the cupboard doors that had remained fixed to the cupboards were now blown off their hinges.

His nightmares have become increasingly worse and so have the physical effects. Gone were the days where he would wake up and vomit out every bad thought and feeling. The vomit had been replaced with uncontrollable power shredding everything around him and he had no idea how to stop it.

“I won’t do it again.” She said quickly, the jug shaking in her hand.

Tamlin loosed a breath and said quietly, “It’s okay, just glad one of the pots didn’t hit you in the head.”

“I am very fast,” She said confidently, “Although that cake dish came really close.”

A smile crept onto Tamlin’s face, an unfamiliar feeling. He nodded politely, turned around and went to his bedroom.

CHAPTER 3

As usual, Tamlin tossed and turned, unable to find a peaceful sleep. Whenever he awoke, he swept his senses through his manor and sensed Kaira in the second floor bedroom, before falling back asleep.

As the morning sun reached his bedroom, he awoke once more, and searched for her. The bedroom was empty. He swept through the manor quickly, sensing her presence in the kitchen.

He bathed and pulled on a clean set of clothes, after all, he had company. It was improper for a High Lord to wear clothes soaked in blood and soil.

The small kitchen table was already set. A cup of steaming coffee on one end and a plate of pancakes.

"I am sorry, I didn't have much to work with. Your pantry is quite empty." She said quickly, "But I found some honey."

Tamlin shook his head and gestured casually, "You didn't have to cook."

"I like to earn my keep. I told you, I don't accept favours."

Tamlin scrutinised her clothing. They were of Night Court fashion, albeit torn and worn from her months on the run.

"I would like to offer you my services as kitchen staff. I can cook and clean and help you clear out the rest of..." she gestured to the rest of the house.

"I have no money, which is why I have no staff." Tamlin said easily, drizzling honey on a pancake before rolling it up.

"I require only a safe space to sleep."

"Sounds like slavery." He said, shoving two pancakes into his mouth. It would be nice to have pancakes every morning, and a clean house.

"Pay me when you can." She countered, leaning against the table, meeting Tamlin's steady stare.

Tamlin closed his eyes as the sticky honey travelled along his taste buds. Seduced by the idea of prepared meals, he agreed. "Fine. But you're not my servant. You're just helping me out. And I will pay you."

She nodded quickly, turning around to start cleaning the kitchen.

"Sit down, have a pancake, the house has been in ruins for months, it can last another ten minutes," he said, in between gulping down the hot coffee. He didn't care that his mouth was stinging from the heat, the coffee was dark and sweet, exactly as he liked it. "One of the closets upstairs will have clothing that should fit you. Help yourself to it."

Kaira smiled at Tamlin. A genuine smile. A smile of gratitude. Tamlin nodded awkwardly, unaware of how to receive it. He shoved another pancake into his mouth.

A few days went by and each morning, he was presented with coffee and pancakes, which they ate together in silence. As soon as they finished, Kaira would start cleaning and Tamlin would leave, to survey the damage to his court and hunt something she could prepare for dinner.

He crawled through the woods in his fae form quietly, towards a deer rustling in the bushes, unaware of his presence, unaware that it would die. He transformed into the beast the animals feared and lunged towards its throat, killing it instantly.

He carried the deer towards the centre of his court. His heart ached at the ruin. Empty homes stood tall. Vendors' stalls were ravaged. There was nothing left in Spring Court. The flowers refused to bloom and the grass refused to grow.

Tamlin knocked on one of the doors and a female faerie opened up quickly, "Lord Tamlin," she beamed, eyeing the deer on his shoulder, "Come inside, please. Elisa please put on the kettle."

"I won't be staying," Tamlin responded, "Thank you for the offer." He offloaded the deer onto the table and smiled slightly as he watched the three children's excitement.

"This is too much."

"Please share it then, with Eric, from across the way. I will be sure to bring some more as soon as I can." Tamlin said, and with a quick bow, he left. He couldn't bear to see the gratitude in their eyes when he knew that all this destruction could have been avoided. He didn't have time to linger on it. There were more families to feed, more animals to hunt.

He walked into one of the few active vendor stalls, the owner perking up immediately and bowing, Tamlin nodded politely.

"I need some basic pantry items," Tamlin said as he looked across the limited shelves, "I have no money, but I could trade you these rabbits."

The shop owner shook his head almost violently, "No, my Lord, please, take anything you need, you have done enough for my family."

"One rabbit, for your trouble."

The shop owner took the rabbit and mumbled his appreciation until Tamlin left the store with a box of eggs, flour and some other essentials the shop owner so kindly recommended.

He returned home to find Kaira standing on a chair, shearing the vines off the inside of the dining hall. Of the two walls that were initially covered in vines, only a handful remained on one of them.

"Do you mind getting the corners?" she said stretching up to the corners, her hand still a far way away, "Oh, you brought eggs!" She jumped off the chair was elbow deep in the box within seconds, "Eggs, rice, flour, salt," she squealed with delight, "Tonight, we feast!"

Tamlin smiled slightly, unable to hide his excitement at the meal she was bound to create. He swept his hand across the walls and all remnants of vines disappeared immediately.

She looked up at him, her brows furrowing in the middle of her forehead, "Are you telling me you could have done that this entire time?"

Tamlin stifled a giggle and she flew at him, punching him on the shoulder, "Asshole!" followed by, "Ouch!"

He walked throughout the house, gesturing at the walls, willing the vines to either retreat or disappear. "I forgot I could do that."

Tamlin ran a hand through his golden hair and grunted as his fingers got tangled in the knots. He missed Alis. She used to wash, brush and trim his hair. All he did now was wash it and tie it up in a bun.

Kaira grabbed her chair and dragged it toward him, "Wait here." She ran upstairs and returned with a brush and then ran to the kitchen, returning with some oil, "This has been bothering me since I got here."

She climbed the chair and slathered his hair in oil, gently trying to brush out of the knots and then when that didn't work, she attacked the knots with the brush and Tamlin feared his scalp may pull right off. "It's beyond repair!" She shouted angrily.

"Cut it off, then," he said, wanting anything except for her to continue to try brushing it.

She leapt off the chair and returned with a pair of scissors moments later, "Sit down."

The High Lord of the Spring Court obeyed her and sat quietly as she cut off his long tangled hair. It was comfortable having someone touch him, talk to him, it almost made him forget how everything had changed.

"Perfect!" She exclaimed and pulled him towards the mirror in the living room. He stared at his reflection. It had been centuries since his hair was cropped short. His eyes wandered to Kaira's reflection. Her black hair was long, pulled into a bun similarly to the way his had been. Her cheeks were fuller than when he first laid eyes on her. Her eyes still black, reminding him once again of the night. The Night Court.

"What did you mean when you said the Night Court does not care for the Court of Nightmares, isn't it the same thing? I have heard plenty of things about the secret city of Velaris, since it had been exposed." Tamlin said, thinking back to when Lucien first arrived back in the Spring Court, gushing about the secret city of Velaris, indirectly gushing about the manner in which Rhysand ruled.

"The Court of Nightmares refers only to Hewn City and does not fall under the ruling of Lord Rhysand, it does, but he doesn't seem to exercise that rule." She said, rubbing her hands through his hair to loosen the stray cut hairs.

He resisted the urge to purr, suddenly understanding why cats always presented him with their bellies, "I don't understand."

"Hewn City is ruled by Keir, The Morrigan's father." She continued, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

"Why?"

"It's where all the monsters live. It's where Nightmares are created. Rhysand sent them there to live by their own rules, protecting the rest of his precious court, especially Velaris." She spat.

"You don't seem like a monster." He leaned back into her hand, hoping she'd continue brushing her hands through it.

"I was born in Hewn City. My mother was exiled there after having an affair with a married high fae. I was the product." She ran her fingers along his scalp, scratching softly and Tamlin exhaled loudly. His mind spinning with this information and the sensation travelling through his scalp.

"You couldn't leave?" he managed, resting his eyes for a moment.

"Keir wouldn't let me." Her fingers froze, "I was his..." she hesitated, pulling her fingers out of his hair, "One of his playthings. Against my will."

Tamlin's eyes shot open just in time to see her leave the room.

CHAPTER 4 - Kaira

It had been a few weeks since Kaira exposed that piece of her history to Tamlin. The shame still clung to her skin, everywhere where his hands had been. She wished desperately she could wipe the memory away.

She willingly allowed herself to be drugged, knowing what would happen next. The drug, at least, helped her escape the body that she had no control over. The one time she refused the spiked drinked, she experienced everything and now, she still remembered screaming. She remembered kicking. She remembered everything.

She saw the way Tamlin looked at her. His eyes filled with pity. She didn’t need his pity. She survived Keir. She survived Hewn City.

Her mother always told her the same thing, No one is coming.

It was then that she realised she didn’t need saving. She would save herself. She had only ever had herself to rely on. No one is coming.

Pulled from her thoughts she heard the floors creak as he slowly approached, clearing his throat in preparation of the few words he would use to address her. “Good morning, Kaira.”

She smiled to herself. Three words. He must have slept well. “Good morning, Tamlin,” she replied, rinsing her hands before drying them with a kitchen towel, “You’re up earlier than usual, breakfast isn’t quite ready yet.”

Tamlin looked down at her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Kaira knew her presence equally comforted and frightened him, much as his did to her. “Sit, it won’t be long. You can have your coffee in the meantime.”

She brewed a fresh cup of coffee and placed it in front of him, he nodded quickly. A man of little to no words. She preferred it that way, it meant she could do all the talking.

She turned her back to him and faced the stove, cracking the eggs into the pan and watching them carefully, but not as carefully as he watched her. She felt his eyes on her.

She had heard rumours about the High Lord of Spring. She had heard about the beast that lurked within him. The rage. The lightning fast reflexes. She had heard that he was handsome. He was everything rumoured and more.

She set the eggs down in front of him and as expected, her chair shifted outward. His invitation to join him for breakfast was always open, but unspoken. “Could I use your library?”

Tamlin met her gaze and nodded quietly, “Of course. You’re welcome to anything in the house.”

“It’s locked.”

“After breakfast.” He mumbled in between forkfuls of eggs and fresh bread. She couldn’t help but smile. Tamlin always ate as if it were the most delicious meal he had ever tasted.

He led her to the library in the middle of the second floor and unlocked it, handing her the key. The walls were lined with books from top to bottom. Dust settled on every open surface.

Kaira ran up to the shelves. It would take her months, or years to read every book available. A treasure trove of knowledge and places to escape to. “Is there a ladder?”

Tamlin shrugged and shook his head, “No. I never needed one.” A smug smile playing on his lips.

Kaira narrowed her eyes at him, “Well, you’re helping me build a ladder or I will be disturbing you every hour to come and help me reach a book.”

A soft laugh escaped him, his green eyes sparkling, “I will get you a ladder.” His eyes shot to the desk in the room and within a second, he was at the desk, shoving a small brown leather notebook into his jacket pocket.

Kaira knew her place and usually she wouldn’t ask, but the High Lord’s cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t resist teasing him, “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” He grumbled, straightening his jacket, no doubt willing the colour out of the cheeks.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Does the High Lord of Spring enjoy reading smut?” She asked playfully, “Don’t hide the smut from me, I can handle it.”

“The High Lord of Spring enjoys writing smut,” He answered, his face breaking into a smile as his cheeks, once again, reddened, “But, there’s some smut up there,” he pointed to the top shelf, “If you can reach it.” Before he turned around and left.

Chapter 5

Rhysand, as usual, ignored the front door and winnowed into kitchen. Tamlin found himself relieved that Kaira was still asleep, he quickly threw his magic through the house, concealing her as best he could while maintaining eye contact with The High Lord of the Night Court. The High Lord that left Kaira hopelessly alone in the Court of Nightmares.

"Nice hairdo." Rhysand said in way of greeting.

Tamlin inhaled slowly, feeling his temper rise. "What do you want this time?"

"Came to see how you were doing, making sure you eat your monthly meal. Just being a good friend, since I know Lucien hasn't been visiting." Rhysand drawled, inspecting the clean kitchen, "Have you got company?"

"Get out." Tamlin ordered as he felt his claws pushing against his knuckles.

"Is that how you treat your only friend?" Rhysand replied with a smile, "I came to share good news, that's what friends do, isn't it?"

Usually Tamlin would let Rhysand ride out whatever it is he needed to. Often times it was the simplest of insults. Other times he felt Rhysand's power creeping out, threatening to strangle him. However, Tamlin sensed that Kaira was waking up. Her energy shifting around her bedroom.

"Make it quick, Rhysand, I have places to be." Families to feed, thank to you and your mate, he thought, but now was not the time to fight. He needed Rhysand to leave before Kaira came downstairs. His magic wouldn't conceal her from exposing herself and he couldn't lock her in her bedroom. He'd learned his lesson when it came to locking people inside, even for their own protection.

"Feyre and I will be welcoming a beautiful baby boy soon. All the High Lords are invited to the blessing of the birth, as per the tradition. Consider this your invitation and keep yourself available on the eve of the new moon." Rhysand's lips curled upward, exposing his straight, white teeth. It was technically a smile, but it brought no joy. Not to Tamlin, at least.

Tamlin caught his breath at the news and took a few seconds to control his voice, "Congratulations and as per the traditions, I will try my best to be there. Now if you don't mind," he said, standing up and escorting Rhysand towards the door, "I have places to be."

"I'll leave the way I arrived." Was all he said before winnowing out of the manor.

When he was out of earshot, Tamlin felt his aggression climb through his chest and escape his mouth in a roar. He heard glass shatter, but he kept roaring.

Feyre and Rhysand would be welcoming a baby boy. A life that could have been his. Should have been his.

Moments later Kaira appeared downstairs, in nothing but a dressing gown, armed with a contraption she fashioned out of an old milk bottle, a sponge and a spring. She would fill it with water and spray it at him from afar, whenever he had a violent nightmare.

"I'm fine." He growled.

"House says otherwise." She replied, lowering her water shooter, gesturing at the mess he'd created.

He glowered, silently. His mind racing through the news he had received and whether he could find a way to miss the ceremony.

"What was Lord Rhysand doing here?" she asked, tightening the belt on her gown. Her long hair was loose, falling in curls on either shoulder, meeting in her exposed cleavage. He lowered his gaze. "I could sense him, but thank you for the concealment spell, I don't think he sensed me."

"He wouldn't, he was too distracted by his own gloating." Tamlin replied, swiftly gesturing at the mess and sweeping it into a pile in the corner.

She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly, tapping her foot. Tamlin nearly smirked at her audacity.

"He was here to formally invite me to the blessing of his upcoming offspring."

She stood quietly for a moment and Tamlin turned to face her, "Are you going to go?"

"It's tradition for all the High Lords to be present." Tamlin said, his jaw tightening on every syllable.

"You should go."

"Why?" he grunted.

"It will make them uncomfortable and I think that's a good enough reason." She replied, a smile spreading across her pretty face. "In other, more important news, if you're interested, I have a few ideas on how you can help your court. I don't mean to overstep."

Tamlin looked at her expectedly, aware that she'd launch into an explanation whether or not he asked for it.

"You may not have money, but you have treasures. As you know, I cleaned out your basement last night and found collections of jewels and jewellery that would make even the richest of fae swoon. You have paintings painted by High Lords. You have skulls belonging to Yechins."

"What's your point?" Tamlin asked aggressively, his temper still coming down from interacting with the High Lord of the Night Court.

"I bet Lord Helion would love a painting painted by his mother. Amren would pay anything for those jewels. And the skull, there are healers in the Day Court who use it as part of enchantments. It's the reason Yechins are extinct."

Tamlin looked at the Kaira sitting across from him, her hands waving wildly as she spoke, "I didn't even know any of that was down there. My parents never got a chance to tell me what any of it was worth."

She sat quietly, surveying him in the same way he surveyed her moments before. "Mine didn't either. My mother was dead before I hit puberty. It's all in your library. Don't you read?"

Tamlin looked up quickly to see a playful smile spread across her face and against his better judgment. He smiled back. "My apologies for not having a moment to read when I was learning how to rule an entire court, as a young boy, after my parents were brutally murdered in front of me."

Her eyes flashed with sorrow and regret.

"I'm sorry, I'm joking, I mean it happened, but it was centuries ago." Tamlin stuttered.

"You're not good at telling jokes." She said, the smile returning for a moment, "Centuries or not, I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'm sorry for yours." He replied.

"Anyway, come and see what I have done." She stood up and walked away, her dressing gown hugging her hips. Her barefeet stepping without making a sound.

Tamlin followed without question as she led him to the basement that he had not entered in years. She waited at the door for him to unlock it, as he had done the night before for her. He wrapped his hand around the lock and felt it pierce his skin. His blood trickled into the lock and the door creaked open. Instead of sniffing in the smell of mold as he had the previous night, the basement smelled of lavender and detergent.

He stepped inside. Kaira had rearranged everything, dusted everything and polished everything. The items that were once piled on top of each other had been arranged in rows, small pieces of paper stuck on each of them.

"I tried a cataloging them. Whoever organized it before did a great job. It took me a while to figure out their methods, but once I cracked it, it made perfect sense. The name of each item. The date obtained. The estimated value. It's all here."

"My mother." Tamlin whispered, leaning down to observe a Yecchin skull.

"Your mother what?"

"My mother used to spend her days down here." Tamlin lifted the skull, "Is it just the one?"

"You have three." She replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the opposite end of the basement. Her hands were small, barely wrapping around his own wrist, but she was determined, pulling him with a force he could not deny. "Look at these paintings?" she pointed at each of them, "Painted by one of High Lords of Autumn. Painted by Lord Helion's mother. Painted by The High Priestess Parreeah."

"They are beautiful."

"I know, I wish we could hang them in the dining hall instead, but one painting could feed a hundred families for a month." She said, gently touching the frame of one of the paintings, "This was my mother's favourite flower."

Tamlin stared at the black flower that only grew in the darkness. "The Creha flower born in the Night Court."

"I wish I could paint." She said, her eyes caressing each painting as if she were able to appreciate each stroke.

"I find myself being glad that you can't." He smirked.

CHAPTER 6

Tamlin cautiously approached the Summer Court boundary. Aware that as soon as he set foot across the border, they would sense his presence.

Approaching Lord Tarquin seemed to be the best choice. Summer had always allied with Spring and Lord Tarquin was a young Lord eager to build relationships with other High Lords. While Tamlin may not be the High Lord he was hoping for, he seemed to have the same values and ultimately want the same goal, whether or not he believed Tamlin felt the same way.

As expected, two guards arrived the instant he crossed the border and led him to Tarquin's estate.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Tarquin greeted as his sentries escorted Tamlin into his receiving room.

Tamlin bowed his head slightly, "Tarquin."

"Please, sit down. May I offer you some tea? Or something harder?"

"A cup of tea is fine, thank you." Tamlin sat down in the offered chair as Tarquin gestured for his servants to prepare the tea. The tea arrived almost instantly.

"I will get straight to it," Tamlin started, "You must be aware that my court is struggling. Thousands of families were left homeless before the war had begun, a thousand more after the war ended. Male fae who supported their families lost their lives or limbs and my court needs money to rebuild. More than money. But money is a good start."

Tarquin quietly listened, his eyes kind and soft, "We are also rebuilding after the war and while I don't have much to spare, I will help in whichever way I can."

"I'm not here for charity."

"Call it a loan then." Tarquin replied sternly.

"I have come to make a sale. I believe you might be interested in a painting of the rare deep sea creature, Tiloper." Tamlin started explaining as he had earlier rehearsed in front of Kaira.

"The Tiloper has only been seen by a handful of people, all of which are members of my family." Tarquin replied quickly.

Tamlin waved in the air and the painting appeared. Tarquin's gasp was audible.

"Gifted to Spring, to my mother, by your cousin, Wessem."

"Poor sod, he was in love with your mother until the day she died,” Tarquin smiled, “You're selling your mother's treasures? Her gifts?" His brows furrowed.

"For the sake of my people, she'd have it no other way."

"I'll take it." He replied, his lips curving into a smile. A smile that Tamlin could reciprocate.

The High Lord of Summer, along with Tamlin's asking price for more than one painting, gifted him with tools, wood and stone, to aid the rebuild of the shattered homes. He also promised to send workers as soon as his cities have been rebuilt.

Tamlin arrived at his manor, a rare smile spread across his face as he already smelled the stewed lamb.

Upon nearing the manor, he sensed another presence. Kaira was not alone.

Lucien.

He entered the dining hall and found his old friend and emissary, Lucien seated at one end of the newly repaired dining table. Kaira was quietly seated on the other end.

Lucien turned to face Tamlin, he raised an eyebrow towards Kaira, "What is this?"

"Who."

Lucien raised both eyebrows.

"Kaira is a guest of mine. She's free to come and go as she pleases."

"Where did she come from?" he asked.

"I don't enjoy being spoken of as if I'm not in the room." Kaira snapped and Tamlin stifled a laugh, shaking his head slightly. Lucien looked at Kaira, a smirk spreading across his face, "I like you."

Kaira smiled. The same smile that Tamlin could not resist, he watched as Lucien smiled back at her.

"I'm needed in the kitchen, please excuse me." Kaira announced, standing up quickly.

"Do I want to know?" Lucien asked, his metal eye swiveling around to watch Kaira rush towards the kitchen.

"Stay for dinner." Tamlin said, pulling out a seat and settling into it, "I am aware of the upcoming baby, you no longer need to avoid me."

Lucien flinched, "I wasn't…" he stumbled, both eyes suddenly focused on a deep claw mark in the dining table.

Tamlin shrugged, "I have good news. Say you'll stay."

Lucien swallowed and nodded gently. Tamlin waved toward the table, the lamb stew appeared, along with three sets of crockery and cutlery. Kaira entered the room with wine and glasses. She hesitated at the table and Tamlin gestured towards the third dining set. She sat down quietly, fiddling with her hair, "My apologies, I hadn't a moment to neaten my appearance…"

"You look… Nice." Tamlin mumbled and Lucien smirked, his eyes darting between Kaira and the High Lord of Spring. Kaira's cheeks reddened slightly.

"I have gold." Tamlin announced, "Not an enormous amount and nothing near to what I lost, but enough to sustain a few families for the year, if spent wisely."

Lucien sat back in his seat, his frown line deeping while chewing. "I would recommend you start with families along the Autumn border. They are the most vulnerable given their location."

Tamlin nodded, "I agree. It would help if I had someone to help me get things back in order. As you know, I am not the best at communicating my intentions."

"You should hire someone." Lucien replied distractedly while helping himself to another serving.

"That is exactly what I am trying to do."

Lucien stopped mid chew. "Oh."

Tamlin shook his head, "It's fine. I understand."

"I'll do it." Lucien quickly replied, "But I'm not coming back to Spring. I'll do it as a friend, if you'll have me."

Tamlin nodded, his eyes lighting up in a way Kaira had never seen before. She smiled inwardly as she finished her plate.

CHAPTER 7 - Kaira

Kaira awoke to the smell of freshly baked bread. She jumped out of bed. If Tamlin was trying to bake again, there was a good chance the kitchen would be on fire. She took the stairs two at a time, and landed loudly on the floor, sprinting her way to the kitchen.

She reached the kitchen and skidded to a halt. There were two faeries in the kitchen. One female and one male faerie, both with pale skin and deep blue hair pinned back. They turned around to look at Kaira and she prepared herself to run.

"Ms. Kaira, please have a seat at the dining table. Lord Tamlin is waiting. Breakfast will be served in a minute." The female faerie explained happily, her round eyes were friendly and Kaira felt herself relax, slightly.

She trudged her way to the dining hall and found the High Lord of Spring slouched lazily in his chair, his fingers gently caressing the scars he'd left in the table as if remembering the reason behind each and every one of them.

"Good morning." Kaira announced with a bow.

Tamlin raised an eyebrow at her, "Morning, sit. I'm starving."

Kaira sat in the chair extended to her. Her hands folded neatly in her lap as the pale faeries brought scrambled eggs, freshly baked bread and hot coffee. Tamlin thanked and excused them.

Kaira stared at the food and Tamlin stared at her curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Are you firing me?" she asked suddenly. Her eyes focused on her lap.

Tamlin's brows folded in a crease, "What?"

"You hired kitchen staff. I'm your kitchen staff. Or I was. Are you firing me? Did I do something to upset you?" she asked, her voice nearing breaking point. Deceiving her as she tried to maintain a mask of coolness that the high fae so easily managed.

Tamlin sighed loudly and shook his head, "No, of course not. I can afford kitchen staff with everything we have sold and I figured you may not want to live as my servant."

"What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to go?" Kaira asked, her voice just an octave higher than a whisper.

Tamlin pulled her chair toward him, "Kaira, look at me," She looked up at his green eyes, "You can stay or go, but I'd like it if you stayed. Help the staff. Walk the grounds. Fix my furniture. Do whatever you want, because you want to, not because you're paying me for a place to rest your head."

Kaira nodded, entranced by his eyes, by the High Lord's kindness, by the fact that most of the time he only spoke a handful of words to her. "If I'm not needed in the kitchen, then let me hunt. For the families who can't do it themselves."

Tamlin straightened his back, "Can you hunt?"

Kaira shook her head, "I can try."

"Can you use a bow and arrow?"

She shook her head again, "But I'm really good with a knife, and I'm quick."

"That I have seen," Tamlin breathed, concern etched across his face, "But a knife requires you to get extremely close and I would rather not purposefully put you in harm's way."

Kaira felt a warmth rush into her cheeks as it did whenever the High Lord said anything kind directed at her. She brushed it away. "I just want to be useful."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I can teach you how to use a bow and arrow, and how to build snares. We can start after breakfast. I promised a few families meat before the end of the day."

Kaira saw the exhaustion in his eyes, in the way his muscular shoulders slouched. She knew, from the screaming, that he still had nightmares. Most times a simple spray of her water shooter would wake him and he'd fall asleep after complaining about her methods.

After breakfast, Tamlin grabbed a bow and arrow and dragged her into the woods. She stayed close to him, a sense of safety surrounding his body. No animal dared attack the male who so clearly had a beast lurking beneath his skin.

Tamlin stuck out an arm, stopping her in her tracks, he glanced at her quickly and put a finger to his lips before pointing into the distance.

She followed his finger and saw a rabbit, much like the size of the rabbit that she prepared for him on the night they met. He took a step behind her, careful not to make a sound and positioned the bow in front of her.

She held the bow the way she'd seen others hold a bow and felt Tamlin's hand adjust her position. His calloused fingers rubbing against her soft skin. She reminded herself to focus.

Carefully, he drew the bow, leaning down and placing his head on her shoulder, he closed one of his eyes and whispered playfully, his breath sending a shiver down her back, "Aim for the rabbit."

She felt her lips curl into a smile before inhaling deeply, focusing on the rabbit and releasing the arrow.

The arrow landed less than a foot away from her and the rabbits sprawled. Tamlin, to her surprise, threw his head back and laughed loudly. His deep laugh echoing throughout the woods.

"You're scaring off all the animals." Kaira whispered aggressively.

Tamlin contained his laughter, but the smile remained on his handsome face, "Let's try again."

"Asshole."

"Lord Asshole to you." He replied and she found herself giggling.

After hours of attempts and failures, Kaira landed an arrow in the head of a rabbit. She jumped in celebration, startling a flock of nearby birds.

"Come and collect your trophy." Tamlin called out and she ran toward the rabbit.

Upon reaching it, she was struck by the rabbit's still open eyes. She dropped to her knees and felt its warm body. A body that had a life just moments ago. Taken by her arrow.

Tamlin's heavy arms wrapped around her as he sunk to the ground alongside her. Scooping her closer towards him. "It's okay, it's okay." He whispered as he gently wiped her tears away.

Kaira hadn't even realized she had been crying. "It doesn't feel okay."

"I remember my first kill.” Tamlin replied, “Come with me." He pulled her to her feet walked her back towards her horse. He lifted her onto the horse and transformed into his golden beast. He ran ahead and the horse followed as it was trained to do.

They reached the city centre and Tamlin quickly fell back into his own skin. He gently led the horse through a run down part of town where every house was a shade of mud brown or concrete grey.

He knocked gently and a faerie male opened the door, leaning on a walking stick, "My Lord, please come in."

Tamlin gestured for Kaira to enter first and then followed after with the rabbit in hand.

A gaunt female faerie eyed the rabbit and Tamlin handed it to her. "How can we ever thank you enough, my Lord."

Tamlin waved her off and smiled politely.

"Mummy," a voice cried out from the bedroom, "I'm so hungry."

The female faerie smiled broadly, "Come inside and greet the High Lord and his guest, darling. He brought us some food, mummy will cook it up quickly. Don't you worry." She struggled to skin the rabbit and Kaira stepped forward to offer her assistance. Skinning and slicing the rabbit in a few quick strokes.

The small faerie boy came out of the room, his skin tight around his bones and Kaira swallowed back tears as the little boy's eyes widened in excitement at the meat being presented to him.

"Would you like to join us for dinner, High Lord?" the male faerie asked.

"No, thank you Liyo. I'll bring some more meat tomorrow."

The male faerie bowed his head quickly, "You know we have been trying to grow our own food, but nothing is growing. It's not just us either, none I have spoken to have been able to grow anything. My Lord, we haven't just been waiting…"

Tamlin interrupted him, "I know. I'm aware. I didn't for a second think you were just waiting or expecting me. The lands are not fertile, but I'm working on it." Tamlin stiffened as he received a hug from the little boy, "She caught the rabbit." he said, gesturing to Kaira and the little boy leapt into her arms.

Kaira's throat tightened tighter than the boy's grip on her. Releasing only as Tamlin lifted her to help her back onto her horse. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him. Just for a second. Inhaling his pine scent enjoying the feeling of resting her head on his strong chest. He ran a finger through her hair and she thinks she felt his lips touch the top of her head.

They rode back in complete silence.

CHAPTER 8

"There's a magic rake in Hewn City." Kaira announced over breakfast.

"A magic rake?" Tamlin rubbed his eyes. It was too early for riddles.

"A magic rake. When nothing would grow in the Court of Nightmares, Keir made a deal with someone, I don't know who, and they gave him this rake. We each spent weeks, raking up every piece of land in Hewn and days later, everything we planted grew, even without adequate daylight or adequate water. Two things we were short of at the time." Kaira explained, shaking off the fear that came with the mention of his name.

"You think it will work here?" Tamlin asked, watching her pick at the edges of her nails.

"It's worth a try. Kheir could ask for anything from a pocketed favor to begging on your hands and knees. You won't know until you ask."

Tamlin's stomach recoiled at the thought of willingly entering the Court of Nightmares.

"He doesn't need the rake anymore. There's been a constant supply of fruit and vegetables since we raked the grounds." Kaira said speedily. Her voice was unsteady.

Tamlin nodded slowly, he knew he'd have to try. For Liyo, for his people, being able to grow their own produce would change their lives substantially.

"Don't drink the offered tea."

"Why?" He asked, watching her pick at a loose strand on her sleeve.

"Poisoned. Slightly. Uhuk."

"I'd smell it." Tamlin snarled.

"Not in the quantity used. It's just meant to slow you down slightly, giving Keir the upper hand should he need it. He'll be offended if you reject. Ask for water instead."

"He doesn't poison the water?"

Kaira shook her head, "It's easy to sense in water. Even just a drop. He can't risk his guests finding out."

Tamlin stared at her, waiting for her to look up and make eye contact with him. But she never did. He wondered what horrors she experienced in her time there and then shook the thought from his head as he felt his rage building. He made a mental promise to shred Keir apart. Limb by limb and make him regret everything he had ever done to her.

Tamlin arrived at the boundary of the Court of Nightmares, Hewn City, what he had previously thought was the Night Court in its entirety, having never had the opportunity to explore it further than the palace.

Keir sat on his throne, a look of satisfaction plastered over his face.

"The High Lord of Spring seeks me, tell me, are you still pining over our dearest High Lady, Feyre?"

Tamlin ignored the multiple sets of eyes that were all focused on him. On his reaction to her name. "I'm here on official business, Keir. My grounds have not been able to produce since Calanmai did not go as planned."

"Or at all. I believe you were too busy fighting over dearest Feyre." Keir hissed, and with a change of tone, quickly added, "Could I offer you some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"It's impolite not to accept." Keir countered.

"Water would be lovely, thank you." Tamlin replied, willing his claws to stay inside as he looked upon this man. Kaira's words echoing in his mind.

Plaything.

"I was busy fighting in a war, alongside the people who ran my court into the ground. But regardless, Calanmai isn't for another few months and I'm unsure my people will make it that long." Tamlin steadied his breath and raised his chin, "Name your price."

Keir giggled with pleasure, "Oh I love it when the High Lords need me. Take the rake, and know that you owe me."

Tamlin closed his mouth as he felt his teeth sharpen, he wanted to rip out Keir’s throat but there was enough rivalry between Night and Spring and his court could not afford to lose this opportunity. Thousands of lives depended on it.

Tamlin nodded and the rake appeared in front of him. "How do I know this isn't any old rake?"

"I am far too excited to make you pay for it."

Tamlin walked out of the palace, rake in hand, determined to leave this court as fast as he could. Just before he winnowed away, he noticed the front of the palace was lined with Creha. He picked one and disappeared.

CHAPTER 9 - Kaira

Tamlin had been gone for a couple of days and Kaira was beginning to worry. She was well aware of what the Court of Nightmares was capable of. She saw the anger in Tamlin’s eyes when he left, she saw his claws release when she mentioned Keir. She wondered, for a moment, whether he’d kill Keir. Though she had warned him not to. They needed the rake.

She paced around the manor but pacing seemed to slow everything down further. So, she baked. She baked a giant chocolate cake and decorated it finely. It took hours.

She felt his presence before she saw him. He always arrived like a hurricane. A whirlwind of power and muscle, too big for whichever room he found himself in. The ground he landed on seemed to bow in fear.

He held out the rake, half a smile playing on his lips. But it never reached his eyes. She exhaled in relief. "What did he want?"

Tamlin shrugged. A casual gesture, but she knew those big shoulders carried the weight of thousands of families, alone. "A favor. We'll have to see."

Kaira mimicked his casual shrug, even though a favor owed to Keir was the worst thing she could imagine. She watched as his eyes peered over her shoulder and settled on the cake. His mouth dropped open slightly.

Kaira couldn't hide the pleasure she felt watching him salivate while staring at the cake - for a moment, she envied the cake. "You want some?"

The big warrior nodded enthusiastically, the rake disappearing to whichever space he deemed safe enough to hold it. He pulled out a chair and sat down, looking up at her.

Kaira sliced a piece of cake and presented it to him. He brushed his hand across hers and a Creha flower appeared in the palm of her hand. She felt her eyes well up, and looked at him. He smiled at her, his hand lingering on hers, before pulling it away and taking a bite of the cake.

Kaira blinked back tears and cradled the flower in her hands before grabbing a small glass and filling it with water for the flower to settle in. She set it down in the darkest corner of the kitchen.

When she turned back to Tamlin, he had devoured half the cake. Chocolate ganache smeared across his chin and fingers and yet he leaned forward to slice off another piece. He looked up at her guiltily, “Was anyone going to join us?”

Kaira giggled lightly and walked over to him. She leaned down to quickly place the gentlest of kisses on his hard jaw. "Thank you for the flower."

His green eyes met hers for a moment and something stirred within her. Before he could say anything, she asked for the rake, "I'd like to get started, we have lots of ground to cover, who knows when he'll want it back."

Tamlin held her gaze for a second longer before throwing back another piece of cake and fetching the rake.

After a couple of days, the once muddied soil was covered in green. A hope of fruits, vegetables and a variety of flowers sprouting from what seemed to be barren land. After a few more days, families were able to pick their own home-grown tomatoes. Eagerly telling Tamlin this as he presented them with whatever animal he hunted for them that day.

Tamlin arrived at home glistening. His smile broad, his eyes tired, but joyful. There was something else. A look Kaira couldn't place. She stood up from their own vegetable garden and took off her gardening gloves and hat. Smiling curiously as he approached her with that unknown look.

"It worked." He whispered when he reached her.

She laughed, "I know." and pointed to the tomatoes she had just harvested. His laughed wrapped around her own as he leaned downward and kissed her. Gently at first, their lips touching softly against each other as he laughed into her mouth.

She looked into those green eyes and hungrily pulled him closer for another kiss. Harder. She wanted more. So did he.

He lifted her up, effortlessly and pushed her against the wall as his lips crashed into hers. His tongue desperately seeking hers as his hands firmly gripped the underside of her thighs. She felt a heat between her legs and wrapped her legs around him tightly, pulled his body up against hers.

Her body felt like it may explode. Every second his lips left hers, she thought she may die. She pulled him closer. She didn't need to breathe. She needed him. The undersides of her thighs were on fire, burning against the feeling of his strong hands. Every inch of her body needed him. On her. In her.

He pulled away, his green eyes flashing brighter than she had ever seen them before. She attempted to pull him back towards her. She wasn't ready for it to stop.

"Do you feel that?" he asked breathlessly, quietly, "I knew it.”

“Knew what?” she asked, leaning towards him to place kisses along his neck.

“Kaira, you're my mate."

She knew it too. She could feel it. In her bones. In her heart. She could feel it in the air she breathed. She needed him.

She pushed him away and watched as hurt flashed across his sensitive eyes. "You need to eat. You need to eat." She mumbled and a small laugh escaped him as he leaned down to kiss her cheek, her neck, her lips.

"Go. To. The. Kitchen." She managed, her breath stolen by the feeling of his lips on her throat, "I need to make you something to eat… Unless you don't want me to?"

Tamlin pulled away from where he had been kissing her neck and looked into her eyes, "Offer me that tomato."

Kaira burst into a fit of laughter. "I'm a skilled chef and you want me to offer you a tomato as our mating meal?"

"Offer me the tomato." He said again, biting his bottom lip and Kaira bent over to pick up a tomato. Rubbing it against her shirt to clean some of the soil off.

"It's dirty." She laughed, offering it to him.

"I don't care," he said before biting into the tomato more enthusiastically than she had ever seen anyone eat a tomato. The juice ran down his chin and Kaira grabbed his shirt, pulling him downward so that she could lick his neck, his chin, and eventually his mouth. Tamlin growled with pleasure as he lifted her into his arms and winnowed her into his bedroom.

Kaira sat on the edge of her bed. Her body threatened to explode if he stepped an inch closer.

He didn't step.

He kneeled.

She looked down as Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court kneeled in front of her, a lesser faerie, a mixed breed. He opened her legs and placed them over his strong shoulders. Maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. His tongue traveled up the inside of her thigh and upon reaching the top, he hungrily, viciously, licked her. Kaira's body erupted within seconds, but he wouldn't let go. She moaned loudly, calling his name, which only made him hungrier. For her. To taste her. To feel her writhe underneath him.

"I need you inside me." She begged.

Tamlin couldn't resist the offer. He peeled off his pants, exposing his considerable length and climbed on top of her, entering her gently, but she pulled him toward her, desperately. She kissed his neck, inhaling the smell of his skin as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside her.

She dug her fingernails into his muscular back, urging him closer. He still wasn’t close enough. He pushed deeper, biting at her neck while doing it, moans of pleasure escaping her mouth.

"I love you." She whispered and he growled as his body came crashing down on top of her.

He pulled her towards him, "Say it again."

"I love you, my mate."

Tamlin pulled her on top of him and pulled downward as his mouth wrapped around her nipple, she felt him harden again just as she felt herself pool. She had heard of the rumors of the sex frenzy after finding your mate but she didn't expect this.

CHAPTER 10

"Come with me, please come with me." Tamlin begged as he rolled over to look at his mate. She lay on her side, staring at him dreamily, no doubt the same way he looked at her. He stroked her face gently, tracing the shape of her nose, her lips, her jawline and felt himself harden again.

It had been a few days since their mating bond clicked into place but his need for her hadn't lessened at all and the idea of leaving her at the manor while he attended a blessing ceremony for his ex-fiance and her mate's upcoming baby, sent him into a fury.

"I don't want to go to the Night Court." She whispered, tracing circles on his chest. Scooting herself closer and closer to him. He knew what they would end up doing in just a few moments.

"I won't let them hurt you." He said, trailing his hand down her sides, and gripping her behind.

"That's what I'm afraid of. You'd rather die. And I can't have that either." She whispered into his mouth, placing soft kisses all over his face, driving him crazy with love, with lust.

"You're my mate and soon, if we can pull ourselves out of this bed, you will be my wife, my High Lady. I want you at my side." Their bodies were up against each other now, and he could feel his excitement growing.

"I don't want to see Kheir." She whispered quietly, the light leaving her dark eyes for a moment.

Tamlin felt his claws piercing his knuckles.

"I'm sorry." she whispered again.

He kissed her tears away, and pulled her into his chest, "It's okay, I'll be okay. Even if you're not at my side, I'll know you're mine. Here. Safe. Waiting for me and all the things I plan to do to you."

A small smile returned to her lips as he pulled her close to make love to her again.

Tamlin reached the Night Court with little to no enthusiasm. He trudged in. Politely greeting his fellow High Lords who had been offering help to rebuild Spring Court.

Feyre and Rhysand appeared, eyeing him suspiciously, undoubtedly waiting on him to make a scene. They thought him a monster and while he knew that at one stage he may have been, he thought by now they would have realised that he was no longer a threat.

He thought of his own mate and his anger subsided. Something else increased and he shifted awkwardly in his seat to hide it.

Feyre and Rhysand politely greeted everyone except him. It wasn't surprising. She rubbed her big belly and he wondered for a moment whether that should have been his child. Surprisingly, the thought repulsed him. His heart belonged to one female only and she was probably asleep, in the sun, probably naked. He felt something deep within him ache as he hardened. A pleasure building deep inside him and washing over him. He smiled inwardly, knowing exactly what she was up to. He cursed under his breath, envying her hands, and the access they had to her body. Tamlin shook his head and tried to focus on calming himself down. Not from anger this time.

Before the blessing ceremony started. He glanced around the room once more and swept his magic beyond it. Members of all the courts and beyond were present, including Lucien. But there was no sign of Keir. Tamlin breathed a sigh of relief, he was unsure he would be able to control the rage he would feel directed at the male.

The High Priestess addressed everyone and initiated the ceremony with a prayer. She offered Blessed Water to Feyre who eagerly took the required three sips, offering the last sip to her mate, Rhysand. Something tugged at Tamlin’s soul. Something was pulling at his skin.

The High Lords were instructed to gather around the couple to be blessed and recite the Prayer of Blessed Birth in unison. Tamlin had been to one blessing ceremony before. It was equally as tedious.

He looked around, his eyes darting towards every entrance as if expecting a danger to materialise.

"You seem happy." Rhysand drawled pulling him away from his thoughts.

Tamlin mustered up a look of interest, "Congratulations again." in between sips of tea. He sniffed around the food, he wasn’t interested in meals eaten without his mate.

Rhysand bowed his thanks, "Your happiness, has it got anything to do with the Night Court fugitive you have been harboring?"

Tamlin felt his blood run cold. He bared his teeth and Rhysand let out a low laugh, "You think I didn't sense her when I was there? Your glamor was too late. I can smell my own within an instant." He said, flashing his own teeth, "Kaira, right?"

Tamlin swallowed, he couldn’t attack Rhysand here, what good would it do. He looked around, the Shadowsinger and the other bat brute watched him closely. Tamlin was outnumbered, as usual. "Please." He begged.

"Grown quite attached, have you?" Rhysand laughed, "Well, don't worry about me. She belongs to Hewn, not my jurisdiction."

"She belongs to no one." Tamlin growled, unable to keep his claws inside.

"That's between you and Keir." He replied, pouring himself a glass of wine.

Something was wrong.

CHAPTER 11 - Kaira

Kaira stretched out her arms and legs, the enormous bed feeling empty without her mate. It had only been a few seconds since Tamlin left, but she felt the pull at her mind, at her soul, searching for him. She slipped her hand below the sheets, closed her eyes and thought of him and his sultry mouth.

She wondered whether he could feel her pleasure all the way in the Night Court.

She dragged herself out of bed and wandered into the kitchen, the female faerie, Muri was busy preparing her breakfast. Kaira greeted her happily, joining her side to wash some of the dishes, “My Lady, please sit down. I will bring you your breakfast in just a moment. Don’t bother yourself with the dishes. Moti will get to it.”

Moti, her brother, as if on cue, waltzed into the kitchen, a smile plastered on his face, “Good morning, my Lady.”

Lady was still a term she was getting used to. She looked down at the ring, one of the treasures his mother kept in the basement. Tamlin had gifted it to her in the middle of the night, when he dragged her out of bed and made her his wife.

She sat down at the kitchen table, staring at the empty seat where her mate usually sat. It wasn’t recommended that mates be separated this early into their mateship. She knew why. Every part of her screamed for him and she tried quieting it down, afraid it might alarm him and worry him.

After breakfast, she strolled into the library. She would bathe and clothe herself afterwards, she had absolutely nothing else planned for the day and her High Lord mentioned that he had acquired some new reading material for her.

The library was as she left it, except, on the desk lay the small leather notebook. The same notebook she had once seen him hide from her. Cautiously, she approached it. Unsure of whether he had left it out for her to see, or accidentally.

Gingerly, she ran her finger along the leather. Her curiosity pounding loudly in her ears. She lifted the cover. She would just take one peek. Just read one word. Just to see.

She lifted the cover and glanced down.

I knew you’d snoop. Keep going.

She giggled to herself, filled with pleasure at the thought of him.

She opened the notebook entirely.

There once was a girl who entered my life She was small, quick and skilled with a knife My love is beyond measure Dedicated to her pleasure As soon as I could, I had to make her my wife

“Ha, I made you my husband, you asshole.” She laughed out loud, her cheeks flushed at the thought of her big beast sitting down and writing this. At the thought of him knowing she’d read it.

There was screaming coming down from the kitchen. Muri was screaming. Kaira rushed downstairs, tucking her dagger beneath her gown. Quietly, she peeked into the kitchen. The floor was covered in blood, her breath caught in her throat.

“Where is she?” she heard someone, a male aggressively shout. “Where is Kaira?”

“I’d rather die.” Moti whispered before screaming, his screams drowned out by that of his sister.

“Stop!” Kaira shouted as she entered the kitchen. Moti was lying on the ground, the blood belonged to him, streaming out of an open wound as the male hovered over him with a knife to his neck. Another male leaned over Muri, ripping her skirt upward. Kaira recognised the look in his eyes, she knew what he’d do to her.

Muri stared at Kaira, her eyes wide with fear, “Run, my Lady!”

Kaira recognised the male’s insignia. He was from the Court of Nightmares. He was here for her. “Let them go and I will come willingly.” her heart was pounding in her chest as she watched the life drain out of Moti. “If you continue hurting them, I will run, and I will escape and you’ll go back to your king empty handed. Your choice.”

The male stood up, a cruel smile spread across his face, “I do love a game of catch.”

“Do you enjoy it as much if you lose?” Kaira countered.

The male stepped towards Kaira but was stopped by the other whispering something. They released Moti and Muri, grabbed Kaira and winnowed.

To Hewn City.

To Keir’s palace.

Kaira stood in front of Keir on his throne as she had done many times before. Bile traveling up her throat.

“My pet.”

“Fuck off.” Kaira snapped.

“You seem to have made yourself quite valuable to the High Lord of Spring, which makes you even more valuable to me.”

She didn’t need to look around to know where the exits were. She spent countless nights mapping the palace, planning escapes. Escapes that almost always got her caught and then punished. Punished by the male who sat in front of her.

And now she was back. Trapped. As she was for so many years and she heard her mother tell her again.

No one is coming.

CHAPTER 12

Tamlin felt fear overcome his entire body. Something was wrong. She was in trouble. Tamlin grabbed Rhysand’s shoulder, spinning him around to face him and pushing him up against the wall. “Where is she?” Tamlin growled, his claws digging into either side of the wall.

Rhysand released his wings, pushing them away from the wall, releasing Tamlin’s claws, “I dont know.” He bared his teeth. “But my guess is that Keir collected what is his.”

Tamlin transformed into the golden beast and felt the strength of the other five High Lords pulling him back, away from Rhysand’s neck. Tamlin fell back into his own skin and winnowed away. Something was wrong.

He landed in the Court of Nightmares outside the palace, the doors of the palace locked, he roared, “Open. Open. Open.” He kicked the doors, the metal bowing under his force and reforming instantly, he kicked continuously, screaming, his throat hoarse, “Open.”

Lucien appeared next to Tamlin and wordlessly started attacking the door as Tamlin had done. The doors opened and Tamlin ran inside, faced with Keir on his throne, Rhysand on the other with Feyre in his lap. Behind him, his entourage, a mixture of scowls and smirks directed at Tamlin. And then, at Lucien.

“Where is she?” Tamlin growled with what was left of his voice.

“How does it feel to have someone you care for threatened? How does it feel knowing she is a prisoner to a monster?” Rhysand spat.

“I never hurt her, not intentionally.”

“I don’t care what your intentions were!” Rhysand shouted, “I felt every bit of her fear. Imagine she was your mate. Imagine the shared pain. The shared fear.”

“Where is she?” Tamlin asked again, his head spinning slightly.

“Hope you enjoyed the tea.” Keir voiced and Tamlin cursed under his breath. “She is where she belongs, in my chambers. My little plaything.”

Tamlin launched himself forward at Keir but he was pushed back by a blow to his chest. Eris stood before him. The High Lord of Autumn arrived with Eris at his side. Lucien threw himself in between Tamlin and Eris, releasing his dagger in time to deflect another attack.

Tamlin roared loudly, “Why?” He steadied himself as he felt the effects of the tea, “Why do you want her?”

“I will admit it was all just for a bit of fun, taking back what is mine… But, Lord Tamlin, why are you willing to go to these lengths for a mixed breed, a servant?”

Tamlin transformed into his beast once more. He would rip out Keir’s throat. He would rip out all of their throats.

“One more step and I will kill her.” Keir said, standing up, Kaira appearing in front of him, pinned against his body, a dagger at her neck. “One more move, Lord, your choice.”

Kaira stood quietly, her eyes resigned, glazed over, until they met his own. She writhed in his grip as he slid a hand down from her neck, into her dressing gown. The rage burst out of Tamlin’s chest, sending furniture and paintings into a whirlwind around the room. Rhysand winnowed his pregnant mate out of the room and Keir loosened his grip as he shielded himself. Kaira pulled a dagger out from underneath her gown and stabbed it deep into his abdomen. Tamlin pounced but was met with The High Lord of Autumn, Beron who froze in his tracks, as Rhysand appeared, shielding Tamlin from Beron’s attack.

Keir pulled the dagger from his abdomen and lifted it as Kaira crawled away, he pinned her to the ground and climbed on top of her. The Morrigan appeared behind Keir, another dagger shoved into his abdomen. Keir turned around and swiped his dagger at his daughter. Tamlin reached Keir and attacked, dragging his claws through Keir, ripping his skin apart, again, again, again, until the body that was left, was unrecognisable.

He stood up, drenched in blood. Lucien at his side. Beron and Eris had fled. Rhysand stood up and faced him. The High Lord of the Spring Court and the High Lord of the Night Court stood face to face, once again, covered in blood as they did when they were boys, unwillingly crowned as High Lords and enemies.

“Let me in.” Rhysand whispered, “Please.”

Tamlin searched the room for Kaira and found her and The Morrigan staring down at the shreds that were left of Keir.

“Let me in.” Rhysand asked again. “Let’s end this war between our courts.”

Tamlin cracked open his mental shield for just a sliver of Rhysand to slip through. He felt Rhysand's sticky darkness wrap around his mind and lead him into his own.

Tamlin felt every bit of regret the High Lord of the Night Court felt. He felt the rage. The love for Feyre. He felt the same exhaustion he felt. The same fears. Rhysand showed him everything, all within the few minutes they stood in silence.

Rhysand slithered out of his mind and Tamlin found Kaira in his arms, nuzzling her head deep into his chest. Repeating the same thing over and over.

“Someone came. You came.”

39 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 9/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: It’s the semi-final, and patisserie week will see the bakers face a tricky signature, an even trickier technical, and the trickiest showstopper ever seen on Bake Off. The four semi-finalists are all feeling the pressure, but they’re all determined to make it to the finale, whatever it takes.

WEEK 9: PATISSERIE WEEK

Tayce’s work had been almost a welcome distraction this week. Sleep had gone right out of the window for her for the last two weeks; all that occupied her spare thoughts was baking. Baking, baking and more baking. All she saw when she closed her eyes were proving bowls, baking trays, and KitchenAids - her own white one now blinding her.

Last week was too close. Shit critiques, shit bake. I need to nail this week.

Her weeknights were spent practising. Patisserie weeks were fiddly, intricate, and stressful, but she knew this was the one that separated the master bakers from the amateurs. So she’d practised until she had no bowls left, no ingredients, until her mind fogged as if with condensation, filled with no thoughts but baking.

I’m going to the finale, whatever it takes. I’m not doing all this for nothing.

——

Tayce painted eyeliner over her eyeliner, concealer over her concealer, and chugged another can of Monster - why had she let Ellie introduce her to Monster? - all while she was waiting for the connecting train at Reading Station, delayed as usual, when she saw a familiar person on the platform, checking her phone. Tayce stomach leapt to her throat as she realised it was Aurora.

Aurora was getting the same connecting train! Maybe they all did, but this was the first time Tayce had seen someone else on the same train as her.

Aurora hadn’t spotted Tayce, and Tayce’s mind whirled. Should she go and talk to her? Tayce wasn’t sure whether their NDA would stretch to them chatting in public before the show aired. On the other hand, who would know that they were just talking?

Can’t hurt, can it?

But the tannoy announcement came overhead for the train - only five minutes late, practically on time for trains - and Tayce saw that Aurora had disappeared into the crowd as she stood to board.

She couldn’t see that Aurora in her same carriage, so she found a seat and sat down with a sigh. Even though it was early on a Saturday morning, the train was already packed with people - mainly groups of women chatting and laughing, dressed in lots of fine dresses and enormous hats and drinking gin cocktails from cans; taking up all the table seats, excited giggles filling the air.

Tayce hadn’t a clue what this was in aid of - Ascot or just a wedding? - but for a split second, she’d have given everything to be as carefree as they were.

——

Signature: 24 Choux buns

“Your Choux buns this week should have a delicate and tasty filling. Twelve should be iced, and the other twelve topped with craquelin.”

“Topped with what?” Matt asked.

“Craquelin,” Noel said.

“Oh. Still didn’t understand that but alright.”

Tayce still managed a laugh, but Lawrence and Aurora on the other side of the room could only just crack a smile, and God only knew what Veronica’s face looked like in front of her.

“On your marks -“

“Get set -“

“BAKE!”

The general mood between the bakers was tense, but exhausted, as if they were all struggling up the last few feet to the top of a mountain. But although all of them were starting to bend under the pressure, Tayce was determined not to be crushed.

Even though she hated patisserie.

“It’s just so fiddly,” she’d complained to Cara during the week, the only person she’d managed to tell as part of her NDA. “I’ve done about three hundred practise choux buns and they never come out alright. I think the choux pastry just doesn’t like me.”

And whisking the ingredients together, waiting for that moment where she could check to see if the pastry was ready, gave her the chance to look around at the other bakers.

Her eyes stayed on Lawrence the longest. Lawrence had told her at the end of last week, after Bimini’s departure, that patisserie was her favourite. And although Tayce had assumed no one could like patisserie, Lawrence seemed to have regained some of her smile this week, sipping from a can of Monster herself as the choux pastry whirled in the deep purple KitchenAid on her workbench.

Veronica, with her emerald green one, was having a similarly peaceful time. Tayce had glanced at her a few times so far, mainly as she was directly in front of her, and found that every time she did, Veronica was fine. There was no clinging to the bench, no sighing, no shaking - just Veronica humming something as she put all her ingredients into the KitchenAid and let it spin, sipping her tea.

“Hi, how are you?” Blu was accompanied by Paul and Matt, coming round to do the usual on-camera talk with the bakers about the bakes.

Tayce’s stomach somersaulted whenever Blu was around - it was the accent mainly, but also Blu always seemed to be full of energy, even when the rest of the tent was dour as it was right now. Tayce couldn’t help but to smile back at her.

“Morning, love! I’m good!” She grinned. “Just trying to make sure sure my choux pastry behaves itself!”

“Oh, God, tell me about it! I don’t even know why I agreed to judge this week, patisserie is a triggering word for me after last season!” Blu laughed. “But Prue still has to recover, so here I am! Tell me what you’re doing this week, then.”

“So I’ve got two lots of choux, the iced choux buns will be full of cherries and coconut, and I’m icing the top to make it like a Bakewell tart. I love Bakewell tarts,” Tayce simpered, “and the craquelin ones, I’m doing those ones filled with vanilla cream and coffee. Bit of a kick first thing in the morning. Bit of a wake up call, you know what I mean?”

The judges had looked pleased enough with her flavours, and after they’d left, Tayce put her spatula into the mixture to test if it was ready to pipe, glancing at her timer as she did. It could have done with another minute or so to mix, but time was not on her side, so she picked up the piping bag and decided to get on with it.

“I’m making blood orange filling and a lemon curd icing for one set,” Aurora was saying on the other side of the tent, “and for the craquelin ones I’m making strawberries and lime.”

“Lime?” That was the one-word Paul Hollywood takedown. Aurora would have known that by now, but Tayce watched, a pang in her stomach as Aurora glanced down, the dimple on her cheek fading as her smile slipped down her face a little.

Come on Rory. You know better than to take that to heart.

“Yeah, lime.” Aurora nodded, but her voice was dimmed, and her dimple didn’t come back.

No, don’t start doubting yourself now!

“How’s the buns?” Tayce said, sidling over to Aurora once the judges had moved on.

“They’re fine.” Her voice was still stiff, and so were her movements. “Just getting the filling done.”

“Ignore what they said about the lime,” Tayce said into her ear. “It’s gonna be great. I know it already. I can’t wait to get out of here and taste one of them.”

“Thanks.”

But Aurora wouldn’t look at her, crouching down to look into the oven again at her second batch of buns.

“Do you want a cup of -“

“No thanks.” Aurora’s sharp voice was a surprise, as she indicated the can of Monster on the corner of the desk. “I’m good.”

“Alright! Jesus! I was only asking!” Tayce chuckled. “God, you can be a right moody mare to everyone when you’re stressed! Chillax!”

And this time, she didn’t wait for Aurora’s retort before heading to the tea tent.

She just takes out her mood on other people all the time. What’s the problem with her? She was better last week, and this week she’s back to being Mardy Margaret.

When she brought her tea back into the tent, Aurora was watching her, her hands on her hips. “You do an awful lot of talking for someone who’s meant to be baking, Tayce. You should focus on that instead.”

Maybe it was Tayce’s rattled nerves from lack of sleep. Maybe it was the semi-final pressure. Or maybe it was the raw, simple vulnerability that Tayce felt with Aurora, baring her soul, telling her that she was falling for Aurora last weekend. Whatever it was, all of Tayce’s emotions were on her sleeves, far too near to her skin …

… and this time, Aurora’s words were the last straw.

“Rory!” she yelled, “Just calm down! You’re not the only one who’s stressed here today! Stop taking your nerves out on me!“

Aurora’s jaw twisted, and she slammed down the choux buns she was taking out of the oven onto the steel with more noise than she meant to.

Lawrence, startled at the sound, turned to face them both, choux bun and piping bag in hand. “Not right now, alright?”

Tayce bit her tongue, bit back the reply that she’d taken Aurora’s moods, and her sharp words, with little retaliation the last couple of weekends, and that she was getting near to her limit with how much she would take. After all, Tayce was stressed too. Tayce hadn’t slept a wink. Tayce was just better at hiding her nerves.

She cocked an eyebrow at Aurora, who wasn’t even looking at her anymore, and concentrated on filling her piping bag, shocked at how much her hands shook as she tried.

Forget Aurora for now. We can talk calmly later. Focus on yourself.

The rest of the Signature was a blur, a fast blur of a morning which Tayce recalled virtually nothing about, until the moment she stepped out of the tent, baking completed.

The only thing she remembered about the Signature were the judges comments. And that was because they stabbed her, pricking her skin and staying there like hedgehog spines.

“Tayce, the filling is leaking.”

“The pastry could have done with a little more mixing.”

“Over baked - the choux shouldn’t really crunch.”

“The icing is lumpy.”

“I can’t get the coffee flavouring.”

At least she’d managed to correctly present the full twenty four. Aurora had managed to fill and ice twenty one of hers in the time, presenting twelve with craquelin and nine with icing; while Veronica had miscounted and made fourteen iced and ten with craquelin. Meanwhile, Lawrence might have swiped her perfect-looking choux buns straight from Paris.

While the others went back to Norton Hall, Tayce stole away, slipping through the trees back to the lake, this time alone. The bench was a little damp from the rain on Friday, but Tayce took off the jacket she’d brought for the chilly turn the weather had taken, and lay it on the bench to sit on. The ducks, tame now to her footsteps, approached her thinking she had bread.

Only six weekends too late, she thought to herself. I wonder if ducks like choux buns.

——

Technical: Cornucopia / Horn of Plenty

“What advice do you have for the bakers this week, Paul?”

“It’s all there for you in the instructions.”

Cryptic as ever. Blu giggled next to him, her hands in front of her mouth, back in her Mary Berry disguise to judge them again.

Once allowed to bake, Tayce whipped off the gingham tea towel and read the title twice before it sunk into her mind. The ingredients were sparse, the instructions were for once really detailed, and they were all given diagrams of the shapes of the parts of the horn they had to bake.

In front of her, Veronica was groaning, leaning on her workbench, her knuckles white. On her right, Lawrence was clutching her hair until it started to come out of her bun, and Aurora was pacing up and down in front of the workbench, her face thunderous.

Tayce had the mixture done in no time, but shaping it was proving difficult. Not the consistency of the diced almonds, not melting the chocolate for decorating and piping the scrolls for the top - but the shapes, and everyone was struggling to grasp how they all went together. They’d all been provided with templates for each piece of the bake on laminated paper, eleven in all that were meant to fit together, but without a picture of the finished product for reference, it was difficult to see how it all would.

“How are you doing it?” Tayce asked Aurora, leaning at the corner of her workbench.

She didn’t look up. “I - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Tayce -“ Aurora raised her head, locking eyes with her, irritation etched in every line of her face. “I’m trying to focus. I need to do this right.”

“I do too! But we can work together, compare notes!” Tayce said, but Aurora held up her hand.

“Please,” Aurora breathed, turning her heavy eyes back to the laminated paper, the words dropping like lead from her lips, “… please just leave me alone to do this. Please. I can’t right now.”

Tayce had no choice. Every step back to her own workbench drained a little bit more of her enthusiasm through her feet as it slipped away from her into the floor. By the time she’d grabbed her cup of tea, she was empty.

Fuck it.

She had trusted the recipes all through the contest, and it had gotten her this far. She could keep doing it.

She weighed each piece of mixture and shaped them into rings, all eleven pieces in differing sizes, placing them on the baking tray and putting them into the oven to bake. In front of her, Veronica was tapping her alarm, before stepping back, fingers in her mouth, and Tayce noticed that her own nails, that she’d taken so long to grow out, were now bitten back down to the quick. A habit she’d worked so hard to break, sacrificed in the name of baking.

Veronica had put hers in to bake a minute or so earlier, but when they came out, Tayce thought they looked a little too brown, so she took hers out at the same time, the slightly paler colour looking about right. But when she watched Veronica, she realised how wrong she’d gotten the shapes.

“Veronica,” Tayce called, and she turned.

“What’s up, love?”

“How did you get yours to tilt on its side like that?”

Veronica’s Cornucopia was rounded in a curve as she fitted it together, like a horn, but Tayce’s wouldn’t form that shape, and Tayce felt like she was missing something.

“It’s on sealing the pastry. Did you have one side of each ring that was thicker than the other?”

Tayce looked at her rings of almond bake, but they were all an even thickness.

“They’re meant to be a bit thicker,” Veronica showed her one of hers, “so they fit together with a curl in them. D’you see?”

Tayce’s stomach filled with lead as she re-read the shaping instructions. She’d missed that part.

“Shit. I think I’ve got a disaster.”

“No, no, don’t say that,” Veronica soothed, “I mean - the biscuits are a bit wrong, yeah, but that’s not all that matters - the bake still has to be good, and the piping you have to do as well …”

“Vee,” Tayce stopped her, and Veronica sighed.

“I guess it’s gone a bit … pear-shaped, hasn’t it.”

“It kind of works at the bottom,” Tayce said, trying to fit the largest bits together, but the rest of it stood straight, leaving a strange shape that didn’t seem to stand up or lay flat.

“I’m fucked.”

“You’re not, Tayce …” Veronica’s voice faded away

“It’s fine. It is what it is.”

“You can still salvage it …” But Veronica trailed off again, and Tayce forced a smile to try to make Veronica feel better.

——

“Bakers, your time is up!”

Matt’s call couldn’t come soon enough. Tayce had had enough of this bake. The heat in the tent was making the piping drip, the caramel was hanging on by a thread, and the shape was definitely not what it needed to be. Veronica’s curve of the horn looked much more like it, and Tayce felt herself sink.

Once Tayce had brought hers to the front, she couldn’t help but look at the other horns, and felt a jolt of relief when she saw another one was also a mess, the same wrong shape as her own.

Oh, thank God for that.

But as she went to take her place on the stool, between Aurora and Veronica, she realised it was Aurora’s, and her blood turned to ice.

She almost couldn’t watch the judging. Paul and Blu in her Mary Berry disguise were sampling, Blu putting on Mary’s accent for the cameras, but none of the four of them on their stools let out anything more than stifled laughter and taut smiles.

“In last place we have this one -“

Tayce didn’t even need to look to see who would be raising their hand. Aurora’s face was white, chewing her nails as she claimed fourth place.

“Aurora - it’s quite over baked, the caramel is crystallised, and you’ve lost the horn shape - it’s just a pole. Not your finest hour, I’m afraid.”

Paul’s words were stacking on Aurora’s shoulders, she could see it plain as day as they weighed heavily on her. Aurora was nodding, but her eyes were blank, and Tayce was sure she couldn’t hear him.

“And third place is this one,” Paul continued, and Tayce knew it would be her, again without looking.

“Tayce - you started to get the shape right, but I don’t know what happened to the icing, and it’s a little under baked.”

Tayce swallowed the lump of whatever was at her throat and forced a smile. “Not my best!”

She felt Aurora’s eyes burning holes into her, but she didn’t turn to face her. She just focused on Veronica being called second and Lawrence coming out on top, all of them looking more and more anxious the longer judging went on.

This week was the week that the smallest thing could send any of them home. It was the semi-final. It no longer mattered where you came in Technical or Signature, because the Showstopper would probably count most. It was what the judges remembered, and the last impression could turn out to be the lasting impression.

I have to nail the Showstopper to stay. Whatever it takes.

——

“Surprise!”

When they all opened the door to Norton Hall, a loud burst of pink and purple hit them all, along with a nasal laugh. For half a delirious second, Tayce thought it was Bimini, back from elimination for whatever reason, but a few more steps revealed Cheryl, another contestant from the previous year, her smile warm and welcoming.

“Chez!” Blu immediately broke to a run past them all and leapt onto her girlfriend. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here!”

“Well how would it be a surprise if you knew?” Cheryl laughed, as Blu peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Put me down for a second, Blu! Jesus! I thought I’d get the party started! You’re all semi-finalists! We’re all semi-finalists!”

“Not all of us,” Blu remarked, eyeing her, while Cheryl nudged her.

“Babe, you’re not meant to remind me that I left the week before semi finals, that’s part of the agreement for us being on-screen girlfriends, remember?”

“On-screen?” Aurora squeaked.

“Yeah, we’re not really a couple, we’re just pretending for the cameras.” Blu said solemnly, disentangling herself from Cheryl and extending her hand. “How do you do?”

But Cheryl couldn’t keep a straight face; she collapsed into giggles as she took Blu’s hand and shook it, before slapping Blu on the arm again. “You’re a nightmare, honestly! Anyway, I can’t wait to try all your choux buns and the Cornucopias you’ve made!”

Blu sighed as she flopped onto the sofa. “Oh god, I didn’t know how much I’ve missed Norton Hall! This is where we all stayed too, you know.”

“Norton Hall?” Aurora said, putting a hand to her throat. “Is that what this place is called? I’ve been calling it Carr Hall since we got here!”

That was the catalyst. Tayce’s nerves creeping up her chest all day finally reached her lungs, eliciting a laugh, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She put a hand to her mouth, but that only made her giggles bubble in her chest until they burst from her.

“It’s definitely Norton Hall, babe,” Cheryl said, shooting Tayce a confused look. “Check the leaflets. It’s got the name on it.”

But the others had fallen silent, the only sound Tayce’s uncomfortable wheezing laughter; Lawrence looking from Tayce to Aurora; while Tayce felt sharp fingers in the crook of her elbow, Veronica’s voice reaching up to her ear.

“For God’s sake, Tayce, please go and get a bun or something, please -“ Veronica steered her away to the table, and Tayce’s chuckles died down as she looked down at the buns, picking up one of everyone’s, even her own.

But as she looked at the Technical bakes, the Cornucopias, all now collapsed pastry rings, in pieces like all of their minds; all Tayce could hear as she looked at her bake were the judges words as they span round in her head -

Under baked … poorly iced … awful shape …

And Aurora’s at the other end, where the words were louder, stinging like thousands of tiny needles in her skin -

Over baked … just a pole … crystallised …

Her heart rattled against her ribs as realisation struck her so hard that stars danced in her vision.

It’s me or her.

And Tayce let her breath go, not realising she was holding it.

Whatever it takes.

Long, sharp fingers looped at her elbow again.

“Tayce?” It was Veronica, cautious and concerned, but Tayce couldn’t meet her eyes, squeezing her own shut so tightly so that she could stop herself from showing her pain by closing it back in.

“Tayce, what’s up, love?”

Veronica was gentle and her voice was soft, but Tayce’s skin was on fire, and she yanked her arm free and found her feet taking her away to the the stairs, taking the steps three at a time, ignoring the voice calling after her, a voice that was so familiar and so excruciating at once …

The door slammed behind her, closing out the world. But suddenly, her door was flung open and there Aurora was, in her doorway; the shock caused Tayce to say the first words that came to her head.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could come in!”

But Aurora’s eyes were wide, her hand trembling, as she pulled the door firmly shut behind her.

“What the hell -“

“Tayce, I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re being so weird.”

But Tayce forced a laugh. “What? What do you mean, I’m being weird?”

“You’ve been annoyed all day, you’ve had a short fuse, even though -“

“You’re the one who keeps getting in a mood whenever I talk to you now!” Tayce cried, a bitter bark of a laugh escaping her. “I wanted to help you, and you just snapped at me, even after - after last weekend!”

Aurora took a sharp breath in, a flush creeping on her cheeks as she stood, silently surveying Tayce for a moment.

“I’ve had my first bottom in Technical. I’ve had my worst feedback in Signature. I’ve not slept all week because I was so worried with all my practises for patisserie week, and honestly, now I’m scared shitless.”

Aurora’s voice was low, and Tayce watched as Aurora scrunched her eyes tightly shut, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, her lips pursing as she fought some internal battle; before finally relaxing again, opening her eyes to look into Tayce’s.

“So I’m sorry, Tayce, that I’m a bit on edge, and I’m sorry that I’ve snapped at you. I know that’s wrong. But …” The sigh she let out was slow, filled the air with fizzling nerves. “I’m going. I know I am.”

“You can’t go.”

Where did that come from? Aurora’s eyes flickered, she licked her lips.

“I already know it’ll be me. I’ve been so bad this week -“

“Stop saying that. Stop being defeatist.”

“I’m not being defeatist, Tayce, I’ve done the worst this weekend so far! It’s logic!” Aurora’s voice grew higher with every word. “All I need is to fail the Showstopper, like every time I’ve done it in practise, and -“

“Rory! Please!”

Aurora stopped as Tayce spoke, trying to regain control of her tongue.

“Tayce. Why can’t you just tell me why you’re being so weird this week -“

“Because I can’t deal with thinking about one of us leaving, alright? I can’t!”

Her voice was shrill, breaking in her throat, and she screwed her eyes shut tightly, but tears still overflowed, her whole body suddenly shaking uncontrollably. Her chest crumpled, she was laid bare again, impossible to hide anymore.

I came here to win this. I came here for the cake stand. But that was eight weeks ago. And now …

Aurora stepped back at Tayce’s sudden outburst, the explosion of emotion alien to her.

“What do you -“

“Remember when Tia went home? Remember?” Tayce interrupted her, finding words fully formed without her having to think about them. “Veronica was a bag of nerves all the next week! She still is! And Ellie, too! You were so sad. Lawrence was losing it. They were so close! They got each other through the days! Remember?”

Aurora’s voice broke. “Of course I remember.”

“That’s you, too.”

“Tayce -“

“You get me through the days. You made me smile every week. You - you were the only person to come talk to me when I was missing my Pops. You always …” but finally the words stopped, thoughts drying out, but Tayce took a shuddering breath, the most honest truth still to come. “And like, I can’t … I can’t imagine you going now.”

Whatever it takes.

… but not this.

Aurora’s expression was unreadable as she surveyed Tayce, peering into her eyes as if searching for some meaning behind them, something she was concealing.

“I mean it, Rory, I mean it, I’ve never meant anything more in my fucking life …”

Aurora tugged Tayce gently into her embrace, and Tayce yielded to her, resting her forehead against Aurora’s, and when their lips met, Tayce tried to put everything she could into the kiss, to tell Aurora with unspoken words everything that there were no words for. A kiss was the most honest language there was, right?

They might have stayed entwined for longer than they thought. But when Aurora pulled away, her lip shook, her chin quivered.

“You’d better not go this week.”

“Or you, you bitch. We need to be in the final three together. Just promise me you’re gonna bring it. Bring your best bake.”

Aurora blinked, stunned for a moment. “Tayce -“

“Promise! You can’t be giving up! Bring your best bake. Okay?”

She swallowed, nodding against Tayce’s forehead. “Okay. I promise.”

——

Showstopper: Meringue centrepiece, featuring 2 types of meringue and a dessert element.

“Most importantly of all, remember what Prue says all the time -“

“… it has to be worth the calories,” Tayce heard herself parroting back as Blu said it, the catchphrases all too familiar by now.

Once the clock started, Tayce wasted no time. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t even want to see anyone else in the room.

This was about her and Aurora now.

We both need to stay. Come on.

She glanced up, watching Veronica separate her eggs, and over to Lawrence, frowning down at her instructions as her eggs whipped alongside her. Both of them were still here, but one of them had to go next.

Please, one of you has to have a disaster. Neither of you have had one. One of you must be due one now. You can’t both be this perfect.

But as time progressed, Tayce felt it in sand, slipping through her fingers.

Veronica’s ballet design was interesting, beautifully decorated, and really showed off her dancing past; while Lawrence’s pair of meringue flamingos, proudly stood next to each other, couldn’t have looked more perfect if Lawrence had painted them pink and given them a voice box with a bird call.

She was stupid, so stupid to think that Lawrence or Veronica would slip up. Neither of them had put so much as a toe out of line since the first week, and they weren’t about to start now, not now that they’d seen how much Tayce and Aurora were failing, scrambling to keep up with them both.

“Bakers, you have ten minutes left!”

Where had the time all gone? Tayce couldn’t remember half of what she’d done, but she had meringues before her, incorporating the two different types the judges had specified, and a dessert that was delectable, she hoped.

She glanced at Aurora, whose meringues looked pretty good, if Tayce’s judgement was worth any weight. The sculpture she’d done was delicate and beautiful, the meringue lined with fruit and spun sugar. It looked similar to Tayce’s own, and Tayce wasn’t surprised - there was only so much you could do with meringue.

They still both stood a chance. Veronica and Lawrence may still have a disaster.

“Bakers! Time’s up! Step away from your meringues!”

When Noel called for time, Tayce noticed the hairline crack in the largest meringue she’d baked, holding the rest of the sculpture upright, and cursed herself for not covering it with more fruit to hide it. She looked over at Aurora’s, at the shape, seeing hers was in pretty good condition - not as interesting as Veronica’s or Lawrence’s, but one of theirs could taste bad or be under baked.

But when Tayce was asked to present it, the crack in the upright meringue that she had hoped would last until this point, crumpled and collapsed, taking the rest of the meringue sculpture with it, tumbling to the floor.

——

The wait was the longest any of them had felt. The judges’ critiques had been kind as always, but there was still of course the lingering knowledge that the unthinkable had happened.

Lawrence and Veronica were definitely out of trouble. It was down to Tayce and Aurora for elimination.

Tayce took herself back to the pond; Veronica looked as though she wanted to follow, but Lawrence caught her arm just in time, shaking her head and pulling her back up the path to Norton Hall. But when Aurora hung back, approaching the same bench slowly, Tayce couldn’t move to stop her; nor was she entirely sure she wanted to be alone now.

Aurora sat heavily, as close to Tayce as she could get, and silently rested her head on Tayce’s shoulder. Tayce caught sight in the dimming light of her fingers twisting in her lap, her left foot jiggling up and down. Felt deliberately calculated breathing against her chest.

In for three, hold for four, out for five. Tayce remembered the rhythm Aurora had told her about and her stomach twisted, pained at Aurora’s worry. She let her head drop on top of Aurora’s, and Aurora’s hand slowly crept into hers, her skin cold and the scent of her hair filling every pore of her skin.

For what was looking more and more likely to be the final time.

They spent the next fifteen minutes wordlessly watching the ducks on the pond, coming and going, water rippling out beyond them.

So calm, so regal on the surface, but underneath their legs are kicking hard as they can to keep them afloat.

Once the team hurried them back into the tent, the air in the room felt like tar, too thick to breathe. Aurora’s fingers were so tight around Tayce’s that she thought she might lose all sensation in them; and as they sat down, and Aurora let her head fall onto Tayce’s shoulder again, she tried to ignore the wetness that developed on her shirt. Willing herself not to look down so as not to cry too.

On her right, Lawrence took her other hand as she settled onto her stool, stroking her knuckles tenderly, and Veronica did the same to Aurora, like they were four penguins in a row. Veronica clasped Aurora’s left hand in both of hers, muttering soothing words that were meant to calm them both.

But of course, both of them weren’t going.

The judges were back in the room in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

The final Star Baker award went to Lawrence, and for a split second everyone lost their contact, a strange cold gap between them as they applauded. Tayce, speechless in fear, pulled Lawrence in to hug her as Lawrence fought back tears.

“I’m so honoured,” Lawrence mumbled, nodding. “Thank you.”

And then it was the person leaving. Noel’s expression was grave, unnerving for him, as he said the immortal words of “I have the awful task of announcing who will be leaving us today.”

Noel was still speaking, but Tayce wasn’t listening; Aurora’s chin rattled against Tayce’s shoulder as she curled back onto it, and Tayce rested her head against Aurora’s, turning her gaze skywards so as not to cry; Lawrence’s hand almost as tense in hers as Aurora’s as they waited for the death knell -

“Tayce.”

The weight of the room seemed to slam her into the floor.

Noel’s mouth was moving still, but words were hard to hear.

All Tayce knew was Aurora’s whole arm shaking, and the whole tent crashing to the ground around her as time stopped.

——

“It’s been … a ride.”

The producer behind the cameraman waved a hand, trying to get Tayce to say some more.

Tayce hadn’t been sure how she’d feel at being eliminated, but now that she had been, if there was any sense of disappointment, it sat on her skin, refusing to sink any deeper at present. All that was going through her mind were the happy memories, running in a showreel being projected into the back of her head.

Joe’s store-bought fondant. Ellie’s questionable towers. Pip’s tiny handbag. Cherry’s seemingly endless supply of gossip. Tia’s adequate chocolate ball, filling the room with charm. Asttina’s playful glee at whipped cream. Bimini’s crimps with Noel. Ginny’s obsession with lemon and legendary exit.

What had Tayce brought? She wasn’t quite sure.

She threw back her head and laughed at the absurdity of it all.

No one will remember me at all!

“It’s been a really great adventure. I’ve met some amazing people, I’ve had the time of my life, and I’ve put Newport on the map, baby!”

The producer waved at her again.

“What? What more do you want?”

But as the words left Tayce’s mouth, she realised that she didn’t seem at all perturbed at going home.

She tried, but it just didn’t come to her.

The cold dread, that had once threatened to creep like ivy up her chest to her heart, had been conquered by the elation of each week, by the warmth of the others there, and by the depth of care she’d found in all of the contestants, severing everything negative that she could have taken away from not winning a baking contest.

The oppressive atmosphere of the contest had lifted.

She couldn’t believe that only an hour or so ago, she was hoping for Lawrence or Veronica to have a disaster to spare her. Thinking back to it, she felt ashamed at how much those thoughts weren’t like her. It made her laugh to realise now that she’d missed out on a cake stand, but that was all. And she could buy one of those anywhere.

How could she be sad to the camera?

But after her exit interview was done, she found all three of the finalists waiting for her, waiting to see her, huddled under one big golf umbrella.

“It’s … it’s raining. Why aren’t you back in -“

“Why d’you think?” Veronica said, holding her hands up. “You didn’t think you were leaving without a proper goodbye from us did you?”

“I’ll be back next week!” Tayce laughed. “I’m only gone a week! And I’ll be here to cheer you three on in the final and -“

“Tayce,” Aurora shook her head. “When are you gonna admit that you’re upset for yourself, for not making it to the final?”

“I’m - I’m not!”

But the more she stood before them, the more it started to creep on her, disappointment …

But not for the loss, not that I’m no longer competing. That I’m … that I’m leaving these people.

“Guys -“

Lawrence’s eyes were shining with tears as she hugged Tayce, and Tayce rubbed her back as they fell. Lawrence was shaking, and Tayce was lost for words, wondering if she should be trying to comfort Lawrence or reassure her.

“I’ll give Ellie a kiss for you on the loser side,” she muttered finally into her ear as they held each other.

“You’d better fucking not,” was Lawrence’s strangled retort.

Veronica was a little more nervous, holding her arms awkwardly at her sides, unsure if she wanted contact or not. “I - look, Tayce, I know I didn’t always -“

“Oh, Vee, lighten up! Come here,” Tayce said, pulling Veronica into a hug, and Veronica wrapped her arms around her, surprising her at how tightly Veronica squeezed. “You’re an amazing baker, and you need to give yourself more credit. And a bit of a break.”

“I know,” was Veronica’s muffled reply.

Aurora waited until last. Tayce could barely stand to look at her. Her brown eyes swam with tears, her lips quivered, and she took a shaky breath as Tayce came near to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Tayce opened her arms out and Aurora let herself come into them, Aurora’s chin nestling into the crook of her neck. And the longer she held Tayce, the tighter her grip became, and Tayce tried to pull her nearer still until she couldn’t -

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

The heartbreaking words were breathed into Tayce’s ear, strands of silk in the wind, but hearing them made Tayce’s stomach flood with lead, a cold wave washing over her skin, and not from the rain as it grew heavier.

Those were the words that finally made tears spill from her eyes.

She took Aurora’s face in her hands, locking eyes on hers to confirm her conviction, her voice breaking with heartache.

“You can win this, bitch.”

——

THREE BAKERS REMAIN

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #down with the recipe #juno #uk2 #baking au #gbbo au #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #bimini bon boulash #veronica green #lawrence chaney #fluff #lesbian au

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sh-rare-pair-exchange · 3 years

Text

Gold Beneath His Threshold

For @facialteeth Summary: Although Clary goes to Idris with her mother and it looks as though the only one with a promising love life is Alec, a certain demon decides th dip his finger into the parabatai pie and stir things up. Results do not disappoint.

Pairing: Jace Herondale / Alec Lightwood

A/N: I hope you like your gift 💙💙💙

Read it on ao3: HERE

It started in his childhood and it carried through into his young adult years. Alec became convinced he was a favourite of the angels, even though sometimes they had an odd way of showing it. One day when he was twelve, he found himself alone again, waiting for his mother in her office, having to receive punishment for his latest mess-up. He had gotten into a fight with an older boy who had been bullying him for months…. And he had won! He was shorter, smaller and younger, but he could take way more pain than the other boy. His bullying problem was now a thing of the past; the other kids kept their distance, knowing Lightwood was weird, but also willing and able to kick their asses. But for Maryse, that hadn’t been good enough. “We are Lightwoods, we don’t go around beating people up. There are other ways to solve conflicts! You are not thinking like a future leader, Alec!”

Later, it had been his father, calling him to his office to administer the punishment, and Alec had caught himself thinking, while he lay on his bed on his belly, because his butt and thighs were covered in red welts, that there would have to be one thing, one thing only, that made sense in his life. That made it all worth it - the humiliation, the being forgotten only to be remembered when he messed up even when he thought he did well, the hostility with which his own mother treated him, the feeling he was a mistake that should have never existed.

And the angels had replied right away. The next day, they sent him a ten year old boy - whom his parents decided to take in because he was Michael Wayland’s son, and Robert still felt guilty about his parabatai’s fate. From the moment Jace walked into the room where Alec trained, roasting his technique, Alec felt like he’d been given sunshine to carry in his pocket at all times. The boys became inseparable and soon Izzy was old enough to join them and keep up with Jace’s antics. Jace was beautiful and smart and loyal, and he made Alec laugh and smile so much his cheeks hurt every day, which was a blessing after the increasing number of punishments he had to endure, both for his perceived shortcomings and for being the eldest and letting Jace get the three of them in trouble. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Jace. He took pride in it. He would stand in his mother’s office, thinking “you can’t punish me as much as I can take, just watch.” But as time went by and they grew up, Jace also grew a spine for the three of them. He found it natural to talk back at Robert and Maryse, to question their orders and to tell them to back off when they picked either Izzy or Alec as an easier target for their brand of retaliatory discipline. It was getting ridiculous, he said. You can’t send soldiers out in the field and expect them to do a good job if they are still wincing from their butts being full of welts. Also, there was a certain age after which it was odd to want your teenage child to bare themselves for you to beat them.

And it worked, because Jace was also fluent in the language that abusive leaders used, violence, coercion, veiled or overt threats and blackmail. He had been raised by a far bigger monster than Maryse could ever aspire to be and although his father had tried to shape him into the perfect, unfeeling killing machine, Jace had always had an unbreakable compass which was impervious to bullshit, but still allowed him to play along and make his abusers wallow in a sense of control until it was time to strike. Alec felt overcome with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify whenever he looked at Jace. It was more than loyalty, maybe even more than devotion. He decided love covered it pretty well, but it was a big concept which contained all the facets of the feeling. Alec compared it to getting a really big box and going to the store, asking for a scoop of every flavour of ice cream. This was why it didn’t come as a surprise to him when, one day as he was sparring with Jace and the younger boy had gained the upper hand, sending Alec to the floor and straddling him to pin his arms to the floor above his head, a wave of desire crashed into him. Jace was above him, glistening with a sheen of sweat and panting, his golden hair sticking together in thick strands, damp with sweat. Jace looked feral for a moment, in prey to the adrenaline of the fight, but his eyes quickly shifted to reflect the warm affection he held only for Alec. For the older boy, it was as though someone had sucked all the air in the room out. Everything was amplified and his senses seemed sharper, he could hear Jace’s heartbeat and couldn’t look away from his bare chest, rising and falling with the staccato pace of his breathing; he became painfully aware of Jace’s now hard peak nipples and his eyes traced a droplet of sweat making its way down Jace’s chest until gravity forced it to fall onto his own chest. Also, their current position made it so that their cocks were crushed together in a distracting way. Alec closed his eyes briefly, letting the feeling wash over him. It made him buck beneath Jace and he made a pitiful sound, somewhere between surrender and panic. “Is this you tapping out?” Jace asked, adjusting his position, pressing his weight even harder into Alec. This did not help their dick situation and Alec felt himself harden. He nodded, unsure why he worried so much. This was Jace and Jace handed his ass to him all the time. Nothing special about the occasion. Jace freed his hands and got up, releasing Alec from his hold altogether. Alec stayed on the floor, sitting for a bit longer, wondering why being bested in combat put him into such a state this time around. But then Jace used the towel he had brought to wipe off his sweat, then threw it at Alec, expecting him to catch it and use it too. The towel hit Alec across the face. Instead of smelling like horse or old socks, like sweat usually did, Jace smelled like freshly baked bread, sunny summer days and everything that Alec associated with the feeling of joy. He barely caught himself and held back from burying his face into the towel and sniffing it like a cat with a valerian pillow. Not long after that, Jace asked Alec to be his parabatai and obviously, Alec said yes. Obviously, because he could not picture his life without Jace in it anymore and they were better together in every way. Jace had the courage and confidence when Alec struggled with them, and Alec had the strategic thinking and the protective nature where Jace was reckless and impulsive. *** They were considered grown men by Nephilim standards, but to mundanes and Downworlders, they were still young and inexperienced in many ways except killing and fighting. This was why so many mistakes were made when Clary and the tornado of events she brought crashed into their lives. For one reason or the other, Jace seemed to lose all touch with reality and support Clary on her wild chases, risking their lives, their standing with the Clave and pretty much everything else. Alec felt abandoned and forgotten again. He reminded himself that good things never last and allowed himself to go through a grieving process on fast forward, where at first he was angry at Jace and ended up resigning himself to having nothing and no one who cared about him in the way he needed. But he could not order his body or his emotions to fall in line with his new approach and that was the source of his constant pain. Pain which gave him the worst, darkest goggles to see life through. He didn’t see that Jace panicked and saw the whole Shadow World burn in front of his mind’s eye when it became clear that Valentine had the means and the opportunity to wipe out every Downworlder in existence with one wish. It was this desolate state Alec found himself in when he met Magnus Bane, the charming High Warlock of Brooklyn. Magnus did not have to give him attention, but he did. And he did not have to single him out and place him above everyone else, but he did that too. It felt good - of course it did - and Alec dared to smile again.

But Clary again muddied the waters. The way she was treating Jace was so entitled and impatient, bulldozing his needs and his past wounds just because she hadn’t been there to see him get them, so to her they did not matter that much. Soon, Jace was hurting again, and since no one had taught him how to deal with that, he put the entire blame onto himself. He and Clary were no longer a thing soon and Alec watched his carefully constructed routine crumble again. Izzy had broken up with Meliorn and was trying to mutilate her personality into becoming Maryse 2.0. Jace hadn’t slept a full night in weeks and cried himself to sleep at night, only to be woken by nightmares and his own screams.

Clary soon chose to move to Idris to be with her mother. Jocelyn thought they would be safer from Valentine there and, for once thinking like a true Shadowhunter, she wanted to take the heat off the New York Institute and make it obvious to the Clave that the Valentine problem was not some fiction made up by teens playing around with runes and angelic relics, but a very real and immediate threat.

Before Clary left, Izzy planned a small goodbye party in the Institute events hall. Clary gave each of them a present, to thank them for their help and friendship. To Jace, she gave two open-date tickets to the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, winking as she told him he would know when to use them. Jace hugged her and kissed her hair, the gesture looking more like what a big brother would do, rather than a lover. Clearly, that short chapter in their lives had not made the first edit. To Izzy, she gave a letter from the Iron Sisters. Jocelyn had used some of her old connections and had gotten Izzy an invitation to visit the place where all Shadowhunter weapons were made. Izzy started crying and hugged Clary, making her promise to visit and send a lot of fire messages. She even promised Clary to finally look into installing Discord on her phone so they could keep in touch more easily. Finally, to Alec, she gave a book, telling him it would answer his most pressing question for him when he got to the end. Alec looked at the book. It was “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho and he seethed inwardly. It was “Eat Pray Love” for people who had gone to college and Alec had heard about the book and its subject matter. He considered it a total wank, from what he’d heard. But Clary was leaving, so maybe, as a way of celebrating, he would ask Jace to let him use his tub and read the book front to back as a way to close the Clary chapter in their lives.

Life went back to normal after Clary and Jocelyn’s departure. Well. The new normal, where Alec was the only one of the three whose life and mental health were not falling apart. He found time to go on that date he and Magnus had kept postponing. It was not… unpleasant, and Alec learned several things about himself. One, he really didn’t do well with alcohol. And he didn’t care how childish it made him seem. Jace was the only person who didn’t constantly mock him for not liking to drink. Beer really tasted like ass. And so did tequila shots. Two, yep, he was gay. Magnus was super pretty. But, for whatever reason, he couldn’t picture himself doing anything more than hugging and holding hands with Magnus. He had already planted a smooch on the warlock, as an act of rebellion against his parents and the Clave at his almost-wedding to Lydia… but he hoped being in love didn’t involve bricking it before every time a show of physical affection happened. Although, in fairness, not all intimate acts had the entire Clave watching closely. Three, things were definitely going too fast and he had long lost control of the wheel. There was a madman intent on ending their entire world out there, Edom was gaining power, Seelies, Vampires and Werewolves were treating the Accords like a pamphlet and Warlocks were disappearing off to realms known only to them in preparation for the upcoming war. And there he was, Lieutenant Head of the New York Institute, getting his panties in a twist over the fact that a hot warlock wanted to take him home and fuck the living daylights out of him. Which, in any other circumstance, would have been perfection. But although his mind tried hard to reason with Alec, pointing out that “hey, someone wants to bang you. No one ever wants to bang you. Do you really want to die a virgin? Because you will die sooner than you will find someone again”, his body put the brakes on the whole thing. So, after their date, instead of going to the loft with Magnus, Alec told him he had an early morning meeting he had to prepare for. Upset by the perceived rejection, Magnus left, but not without making a polite exit. After all, he could understand cold feet. The reason he was so attracted to Alec was how special and rare of a creature he was. But he still left Alec with the tab. The cute bartender who had seen the whole exchange pointed to the tap and asked Alec, “looks like it’s not your night. Want another one, on the house?” Alec shook his head. “Can I have a peach Capri Sun instead?” He asked. Someone else took the seat Magnus had vacated next to him at the bar and pushed a hundred dollar bill across the counter to the girl. “Actually, I’ll have the alcohol once you give the child his sippy cup. Make it a Devil’s Margin, please.” Alec turned to look at the owner of that silky, dark voice. A tall man, dressed in black, everything designer and very expensive-looking, with an exceedingly attractive face and the tell-tale red glow in his eyes. A greater demon, Alec thought, freezing in his spot. He didn’t have any weapons with him, he had left them all at the wardrobe, glamoured, after Magnus had convinced him demons would not come crash their date. “Did your date not go your way?” the higher demon asked, smiling in a way Alec would have read as… friendly, If it had been anyone else. “What’s it to you? Since when do demons care what we do in our time off?” “Since I’m the demon of desire and everyone’s desires are my job.” The demon said. The bartender slid the Devil’s Margin in front of the stranger and smiled. The demon took a sip from the drink and smiled. “Excellent. Heavy on the alcohol, easy on the ginger ale. Just how I like it.” He said, producing another hundred dollar bill and handing it to the girl. “That’s all yours, baby girl.” Alec watched the young woman fluster and blush, stammering a thank you and going away. He always found it so miraculous when other men were able to charm their way through life’s little exchanges and situations. Jace would have done it even without the money, he thought, sizing up the man (demon) next to him. “Look. I’m not digging for trouble… for now. I’m just curious. Do you think the warlock you were seeing is hot, Alec Lightwood?” The demon asked, revealing to Alec he had done his homework before he’d popped up. “I will gladly answer all your nosy questions, demon, as soon as you tell me your name. Since you already know mine.” “All in due time. Is it that hard to admit, is he hot or not?” “Yes, he is, damn it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone on a date with him, he’s been working so super hard to get me to go out with him. I never go out.” “Mmm, interesting.” “And again, what’s it to you?” Alec grumpily asked. If he was going to fry, he might as well get some answers first. “Well, my volatile little Nephilim, my name is Asmodeus, prince of hell, demon of desire and Magnus’ dad.” Alec gasped. Rationally, he knew warlocks were half demon, but he had always pictured the demon half involved one of those hideous creatures they slaughtered in dark alleys while on night missions. He had never considered the higher demons would wish to sire children with mortal women as well. And, looking at Asmodeus, it was easy to see where Magnus got his good looks and charm from.

“Are you here to tell me not to date your son?” Alec said. “Or to make sure that my Nephilim nature kicks in and does exactly that, to spite you?”

“No, not at all. I’m here to save everyone some heartache and to speed up some of my goals becoming reality.” Asmodeus said. “Do you want to date my son?” “Honestly? I don’t know. I… I might not get anyone else. And he is a good man, who’s showing me attention where everyone else is not. He would love me.” “He would watch you die after your short, violent little life. And then he’d mourn and move on. He’s immortal, Alec. You’re not.” “Yeah, there’s that. But isn’t every lasting relationship like that? Even in mundane marriages, someone dies first and is survived by their grieving partner.” “Mundanes have the comfort of thinking they get to meet each other soon.” Alec stared at his Capri Sun. “But that’s not all there is to it, is there?” Asmodeus pressed. “There’s something else holding you back.” “Yes…” Alec said, sighing. “Something stupid.” “Like the hmmm… allegedly unrequited love for your parabatai?” “Why are you even asking me, if you know everything?” Alec covered his face with his palm briefly. “This is embarrassing. I can’t… I can’t do this.” He added and made to get off the bar stool to leave. “No it’s not, and you can. Sit back down. I take desires really seriously. And I’m here to tell you it’s alright to be in love with your parabatai. You two do share a soul and I would be more surprised and disappointed if you two weren’t in love.” “But… why are you so intent on my not dating Magnus? Because that is your agenda, I can tell.”

“It’s because of how difficult it is to see things from an eternal perspective. No matter how much Magnus and you pretend it’s not an obstacle, it is. And I am trying to get Magnus to stop seeking for fleeting connection in various mortals and to finally turn his face back to me, his father. I cannot wait to give him my wisdom, my experience… my power. But I can’t do that if he is always running around trying to please this and that mortal.” “And you want me to turn Magnus down so you can show up for him? Why didn’t you do so before? Why didn’t you protect him and treat him well as a child?” “I was misguided and hurt. I wrongfully took out my anger and my pain on a child who didn’t ask to be here. And since then, Magnus has been running from me.” “Look. I don’t have the power to oppose you. But for some reason you seem to want to do it right this time. Listen to his wishes. He will come to you if he feels respected. It’s not that deep. I know one or two things about abusive parents. Once the trust is broken, and usually it’s broken over and over… it can’t be won back with a simple talk and a hug. It takes time to mend wounds that scarred over but never healed.” Asmodeus smiled at Alec and put his hand over Alec’s nearest one. “I knew you’d understand. As far as Nephilim go, you’re one of the wisest, even for your young years.” Alec looked at the demon’s manicured hand on top of his and for a second, his mind flashed him an image of Asmodeus draped over him in a bed with cool sheets, buried to the hilt inside him, holding his literal life in his hands, their fingers interlaced as they gripped the sheets and moved together… He shook his head. Asmodeus wasn’t playing. He really was the demon of desire.

“Don’t you just wish that was the Herondale boy?” Asmodeus laughed knowingly.

“Wayland, but go off.” “Oops. I guess I shouldn’t have said that.” Asmodeus said with a wink. “But anyway. I wanted to talk to you not to dissuade you from dating my son, but to tell you that you’re bullshitting yourself. Sure, Magnus is wonderful and he would love you and everything. But you’re not in love with him. And I thought I’d spare you and Magnus a few years of heartache and suffering alone and in secret because you let things heat up too fast and then it was too late to say anything. You would so do that. Admit it - if not to me, then to yourself.”

“I… you’re right.” Alec said, taking a sip of his juice. “Too bad Jace doesn’t love me back.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “He does. And I know you won’t believe what the old demon said, but just… ask him. Ask him what is in those nightmares that keep him up at night. Oh, and… ask for one kiss. It will tell you all you need to know.” Alec looked away. He had come a long way, he could pass for a great leader on many days, but asking for a kiss? From Jace? That needed working up to. “You have to risk it for the biscuit.” Asmodeus said, shrugging. “Or, in terms you Nephilim folk prefer, no pain, no gain.” Alec winced. He was trying to change that. Everyone outside the Nephilim society laughed at them and called them primitive for abusing their children to turn them into soldiers and for burning their own people for even the slightest mistake, until their numbers were dwindling. It felt like an uphill battle, but he knew it could be done. Unless the Clave really wanted to drive their race to extinction. “Thanks for the insight… I guess?” Alec said and took a sip of his drink. When he looked to his side, Asmodeus had vanished, leaving behind only a veil of very high end Moroccan blend perfume, something with sandalwood, crushed rose petals and ylang-ylang.

Alec shivered. He’d survived meeting Asmodeus. And in theory it wasn’t a big deal, he’d killed greater demons before without thinking much of it, but Asmodeus was different. He was Magnus’ dad. He could have been his father-in-law, which would have made Easter lunches very awkward, for starters.

He paid what he owed to the bartender and she smiled as she cashed him in. “Straighten your crown and go get’em. You’re a cutie, it’ll all work out for you.” She said. Alec sighed. “Thanks. There’s nothing about me that can be straight… but I appreciate the sentiment.” He got his weapons and coat from the wardrobe and went back to the Institute. On the way back, he was stopped by some unsavoury mundanes who wanted to mug him. Alec asked himself what Jace would do, and what would make Magnus cringe the least. He ended up breaking all those men’s arms and legs and walking away while feeling a huge sulk taking him over. To top it all off, it started to rain.

Soaked to his skin, now he really wanted that hot bath with a book. When he went up to Jace’s room, it was empty and Alec decided it would hurt no one if he did run himself that hot bath and read the book from Clary. As he gingerly lowered himself into the tub, the exhaustion and the stress of the past month hit him at full force. He closed his eyes and let the heat and the pine scent of the water seep into his bones and mind, relaxing him. Now he was starting to see why Jace loved to take baths so often. He opened “The Alchemist” and started reading. He found the book easy to read through, since he was used to far longer and bigger volumes. The start didn’t impress him much, but by the time he got through the first twenty pages, he was hooked. The ending moved him to tears and it made him think of his own situation. He was also sitting on a treasure, ignoring it because of preconceived ideas on how treasures had to appear and be revealed. It was how Jace found him, crying in the bath, the foam having dissolved almost completely. Jace ran over to him and knelt next to the tub, hugging Alec at once and kissing his forehead worriedly. “What’s wrong, parabatai? What happened?” Jace asked, running his hands through Alec’s wet hair and smoothing it back. Alec looked at Jace through his tears and he sighed. The surge of love and awe he felt just from seeing Jace again (and it had only been a few hours since he’d last seen him, at breakfast) was enough to tell him that Asmodeus had been a hundred percent right. He was so deeply, desperately and irreversibly in love with Jace, there was no use lying to himself and thinking it was wiser to stay away. Sure, giving in and admitting his love to Jace might bring some heartache, maybe some punishment too if they were found out, but at least they’d have each other. And he would have the one person he had loved from the day they’d met.

Alec took in Jace’s appearance. While he had been caught in the rain, Jace had been lucky and his clothes and hair were dry. He had gone and gotten his haircut refreshed, and it looked so incredibly good on him. Jace also wore a white shirt that subtly outlined his pecs and abs and tight jeans with his designer boots.

“The book was sad.” Alec said, feeling silly for saying the first thing that popped into his mind. It was a childish reason to give; they were Shadowhunters, they witnessed tragedy on an individual and global scale regularly. Jace smiled and ran his fingers through Alec’s hair again, leaning close and kissing his temple. He also looked down at the discarded book. He knew it was the book Clary had given Alec and he also knew the plot. He had read it a while ago while waiting to meet a cute Seelie in a bookstore. “Did your date with Magnus not go so well?” He asked, even though it pained him. Jace knew it wasn’t classy to be this petty, but Magnus having come onto the scene had changed his life for the worse by introducing the idea of competition for Alec’s love and attention… and the prospect of him losing. Until recently, no matter how shitty the rest of his life was, he always knew he had Alec’s full attention, devotion and affection. Jace had been in love with Alec for a while now, and he had woken up one day overwhelmed with love for his shy and reserved parabatai after thinking for a long time that he was the straightest person in the entire Shadow World. Loving Alec was easy, because Jace wore a mask for everyone else and with Alec he didn’t need to. And even though Alec was very withdrawn and private, he reserved the best parts of himself for Jace, who had always needed to be seen and prioritised by someone. Now, with Magnus in the picture, he could see himself losing all of that and being demoted to “one of the others’’ in favour of the boyfriend. He had already begun to resign himself to having lost the best and brightest part of his life. He had made it a part of his outward performance to be seen with many women and girls of all races, mundanes and Downworlders alike, but he could not bring himself to like or even open himself up at least a bit to anyone, in an unspoken (even to himself) hope of one day gathering his guts and telling Alec how he felt. But his father’s words rang in his mind. The way he saw it, “to love is to destroy” only worked if the love was expressed, fulfilled and returned. If it was just things one felt in secret and suffered from, it was fine. Only now it was all lost. Alec was in love - with Magnus. And Jace didn’t blame him. Magnus had the balls to announce his feelings directly. Normally, he would have been this confident too. But he didn’t think he was worthy of Alec’s love. He felt that Alec would be getting a bad deal with him as a boyfriend. He was neither rich, nor powerful or famous. And Alec deserved to be treated like a king, not late night dates at Mickey D’s, eating McRibs with ichor-stained hands.

Lost in his little cinematic sad story inside his head, Jace didn’t notice Alec watching him and smiling. “Actually the date with Magnus was great. I came back here after because it didn’t feel right to go to his place after.” “Why not?” Jace pushed, feeling a masochistic need to hear more about the ways in which Alec was slipping away from him. “You like the guy.” Alec looked at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow. “Jace. You know very well I don’t like anyone. And I only love you.” He said, his voice becoming tinier as he got to the word “love”.

Jace’s eyes shot up to look at his parabatai. “It’s always been you, Jace.” Alec said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “In another world, if I were any bit more different, I’d be strong enough to let the outside pressure get to me and move on, but I just don’t know how to be without you and I don’t want to either. I’ve been in love with you, in many ways that grew along the way, since the moment you walked into that training room and roasted my archery skills. I know to others I am weak for being so attached and needy, but… I don’t know how not to be, when it comes to you.”

Jace’s eyes were swimming in tears by the time Alec paused. He was still kneeling near the tub, one hand buried in Alec’s wet curly hair, the other holding one of Alec’s hands. He kissed the back of the hand he was holding, then lightly kissed each finger. “I feel the same. I was so torn, Alec. You deserve the best things ever and I’m not that. I’m broken. I thought you’d be happy with Magnus, but selfishly, I hated the thought of losing you.” It was Alec’s turn to caress stray strands behind a delicate ear. “We’re broken along the same lines. Like shards of a mirror that show the same image when you put them together.” Alec said. “The reason I was crying is because Clary knew exactly what I needed to hear. Like the guy in this book, I don’t need exotic travels and treasures beyond imagining. All I need is right here with me.”

When their lips finally met, it was with no hesitation and no fumbling. Once they had made up their respective minds, there was no holding back for either of them. “I want everything, Jace. And I want it with you.” Alec said in a heated voice, sounding breathless and overcome with excitement. “Then come, let me show you,” Jace said, feeling a lump of emotion form in his throat, making it hard to speak. Seeing Alec’s courage to say how he felt had made him go all in as well. In just a second, his indecision and his fears and worries had vanished like fog under the sun. But even though the emotions were positive and bursting forth from his soul like sunbeams, he still felt tears well up and spill down his cheeks. One word, one sign of reassurance had been enough. They were both getting what they wanted but had not dared to ask for. Alec briefly thought of Asmodeus and his knowing smirk, but then he felt Jace lift him easily from the tub and wrap him in a big towel, not doing too good a job drying him before he carried him, bridal-style, to the adjacent bedroom. He squeaked at being carried, but he still clung to Jace and rested his head on Jace’s shoulder, enjoying the attention from his parabatai. Jace hadn’t considered sleeping with a man, whether mundane or otherwise, but he found that Alec felt as familiar as he did to himself, and everything came naturally to him, especially since he was focusing on making sure Alec had a pleasurable first time. In fact, it was their first time and it could only be amazing, like everything they did as a pair.

He undressed hurriedly and unselfconsciously, feeling himself harden when Alec watched him greedily, his desire increasing with each item that came off.

Alec looked like sin made flesh on Jace’s bed, naked and hard, panting and watching Jace, biting his lower lip and reaching for his parabatai.

“You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jace decreed, giving his cock a loose stroke, his eyes raking over Alec’s bared form before he got onto the bed and scooted next to Alec, flinging a leg over him and straddling him. “And you’re mine. I’m going to make you forget other men exist.” He reached over to Alec with two fingers, running them down the middle of his forehead, over his nose and further down to his lips.

Alec gasped and opened his mouth, his plush lips wrapping themselves around the roving fingers and dragging along the soft skin. Jace felt himself leak a sticky trail onto Alec’s cock beneath him from how enticing Alec looked, sucking his fingers unabashedly, rolling his hips up to rub against Jace and wanting to wring every drop of pleasure from the moment. Jace found he could no longer hold back and he leaned forward, his lips finding Alec’s. They again fused into one, their souls merging and flowing from one into the other and then back, in a loop. “Shit, if kissing is this intense, I won’t survive being inside you.” Jace said, nipping on Alec’s chin, on the spot he had the scar in. “Worth it. Can’t think of a better way to go.” Alec gave back, bringing his arms up so he could indulge in something he’d wanted to do since forever - running his hands greedily all over Jace, fingers carding through his hair, tracing his vertebrae as they descended, straying to his sides, his pecs, then his hips and then his ass. Alec felt ravenous - as though he couldn’t get Jace close enough, soon enough. He arched into Jace’s mouth and wailed at the sensation as his parabatai bit, then sucked a massive bruise into his deflect rune. “Jace, I can’t… I’ll go fucking insane if you’re not inside me soon. We can explore later.” Alec demanded. Jace looked down at their engorged and leaking cocks, rubbing against each other. “Um… normally I should open you up slowly. It’s a really small hole. Can you wait?” “I’ve been waiting since I was fucking fifteen. Get thee in me - preferably today.” “Look, if I use runes, it might still sting.” “I’m a Shadowhunter. Let’s see those runes.” “Alec, are you sure? It’s your first time… it might hurt.” “Do I look like I care? I get to have you for the rest of my life. Every time will be as special as a first time.” Jace smiled, relenting at the passionate words. This was 100% his Alec. Hesitant and overthinking while weighing his choices, all in once he made up his mind. He allowed himself to fantasize about a life of belonging to Alec and to Alec only, and of Alec being his in the same way. He felt his heart fill up to the point of overflowing with love and he knew he wanted nothing else. Even if it was a short and perilous life, even if their destiny as soldiers against the realms of hell cleaved their trajectory through the world before it had reached its end point, it would be a life lived in the completeness of their bond, made stronger by their love. He felt Alec’s burning gaze on him when he got out of bed to get his stele. While he retrieved it from his trousers, he wondered if, once Alec and him became one in every sense of the word, he would be able to activate Alec’s runes too with only his intention. Only one way to find out. Using the combination of runes he knew from Isabelle on her brother felt like the naughtiest and at the same time most rewarding sex thing he’d ever done thus far, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was so hot, watching and feeling his soon-to-be lover’s body become accommodating for him. Even the slight pain, which he could feel in the bond, was amplifying his aroused anticipation, as he watched Alec squirm and arch under the burn of the runes - which soon turned pleasurable, wringing a debauched moan from Alec.

“Please, Jace. I’m ready.” Alec said, sucking his reddened and glistening lower lip into his mouth briefly, looking up at Jace with feverish eyes.

Jace couldn’t have resisted if he tried. He knelt between Alec’s eagerly parting legs, taking the time to check if the runes had taken and if his parabatai was relaxed enough. He stroked two fingers over Alec’s opening and found it warm and pleasantly slick, which reassured him enough to delve inside. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of Alec’s tight walls squeezing down on his fingers, picturing what that would feel like around his cock. With his other hand, he gave his cock a few strokes, spreading the droplets of precome drooling from the tip and bringing it up against Alec’s entrance, pressing in while removing his fingers. Alec closed his eyes and arched off the sheets as the head of Jace’s cock stretched him further than he had thought possible. Jace took one of his hands and squeezed it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Breathe - deep and slow. It’ll help.” He whispered, before leaning down to kiss Alec while still pushing in. He could feel the same burn his parabatai felt in his body and he wondered at the force of Alec’s need for him. There would be so many other times when they could live out all their desires and fantasies, but for now it was about Alec and what he wanted. “Fuck, Alec. You are so tight it’s unreal.” Jace said when he bottomed out. He was now buried to the hilt inside his parabatai and the bond flared between them, its flame switching from pale blue to bright gold. Both boys got hit by the intensity of the transmutation. Their bond was now something different, stronger and new in a way they couldn’t have anticipated. They had both been warned by the Silent Brothers at their ceremony not to fall and commit Eros, lest they draw the angels’ wrath and the parabatai curse onto them. But, as time passed and they grew up, they had both learned the curse was a scaretale used to enforce the Clave’s disapproval of same sex relationships and to secure Clave control over parabatai pairs and their abilities as warriors. He Clave wanted them good, but not too good.

“Do you feel… that… too?” Jace asked in awe.

“Yes, I do. I feel you, as a part of me.” Alec said breathlessly. “Please, move. I want it all.” Jace propped himself up on his hands on Alec’s chest and started to move, picking up pace quickly. “Angels, Alec.You feel divine.” Jace whispered. His entire world had narrowed down to Alec beneath him. But even that wasn’t enough and he sat back on his heels, pulling Alec up in his lap until they were wrapped around each other, their limbs woven together like the petals of a lotus. Jace had never really enjoyed a connection with someone before here and now, with Alec. Sex had always been yet another performance to persuade the world that the great Jace Wayland was as perfect and as unattainable as they wanted him to be, the fantasy superhero all of Idris wanted to believe in and parade as an example. If he could have had his choice, he would have not shared his body with anyone unless he felt drawn to do so. But as it were, everyone else had always seen him as a shiny trinket to collect, a fetish to experiment with, a fantasy to conquer. All but Alec. “Jace! I’m c-close.” Alec pressed out while the force of Jace’s upward thrusts into him bounced him on Jace’s lap. “Come with me!”

Jace nodded with a growl and changed their position again, having them lie down face to face, up close and still entwined as they’d been just moments before, with Alec’s legs encircling his hips. It wasn’t a comfortable position they could hold for long, but it brought them close together and Jace loved that he could rest a hand on Alec’s neck and pull him close for a possessive kiss. A silent understanding passed between them, the same intent reflected in both sets of eyes. They came at the same time, each letting go easily while knowing the other would be right there too. After that night, Alec discovered that Jace could practically go on forever, but, considerate as he was, he did stop when Alec became physically unable to keep up. And Jace was also an attentive lover, apparently, either as a rule or just for him, Alec didn’t care, since he currently couldn’t feel his body beyond the burn in his ass and the deep fatigue, neighbouring numbness, that had taken over his limbs. But Jace fed him pineapple gummibears from his secret stash (if that wasn’t love, nothing was, Alec thought, knowing how territorial Jace was of those gummibears). Jace discovered that he could, in fact, activate Alec’s runes with his intention, something which turned Alec on like mad and which made their night’s activities stretch until late in the morning. Once they finally dragged themselves under the shower, Jace remembered his gift from Clary. “I need to take you on a proper date, to make this official. Museum of Modern Art sound good to you? The Dicks in Design exhibit is in town.” “If I want to see a big dick for free, all I need to do is look your way. Let’s just go and stare at the art.” Jace opened his mouth to clap back, but he couldn’t think of anything. Couldn’t object against facts, although what kept him from feeling smug was the ambiguous phrasing. Had Alec meant he had a big dick? Or that he was a big dick?

*** The evening had just begun and Pandemonium was buzzing with excitement. This date marked the return of Magnus Bane to the club scene. The moment he had seen Alec again after their one date, Magnus had known Alec would never be his. And then he had seen Jace and the massive change in him, in the way the two parabatai looked at each other, in the way the energy in the room changed and thrummed around them. He could not begrudge the two Shadowhunters the refuge they had found in each other. Being parabatai in their time was difficult and it was a small blessing they could be everything for each other like that. He couldn’t say he was mourning that which had never been. He had a new girlfriend now and his father was making an effort to be a slightly more tolerable demon and an actual parent to his only son. Magnus had a family now and it made him feel like he finally belonged. Now he was observing Alec and Jace on the dance floor below. Alec had never struck him as a big lover of fun, partying and much less dancing. But what he was currently doing was hardly a dance. He and Jace were just grinding against each other to the beat of the music, lost in each other like they were the only people in the club. They were both dressed in white and the hostesses at the club entrance had dabbed glitter on them, like they did with all the guests that night, only Jace and Alec looked downright heavenly, sparkling in the bluish-white light.

Then, Magnus’ eye was drawn to the VIP booth, where his father stood at the window, watching the couple below with the tiniest smile fluttering on his lips. Magnus shuddered, remembering Asmodeus was the demon of desire and his powers grew off of people giving into their secret and forbidden passions. He didn’t put it past his father to have stuck his finger in the parabatai pie. His concerns only intensified when Alec suddenly looked up, saw Asmodeus, waved and smiled. (the end)

#shrarepairexchange #sh rare pair gift exchange #shadowhunters #shrarepair2021 #facialteeth

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deviant3lover · 4 years

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Can you do more headcanons for the shitty teen squads? I really love them. Plus I love all of your works :)

Aha! Funny you should ask, because I started working on this one just before I saw your ask!

Without further ado…

Even more trio headcanons!!

Genos, being a regular internet user, is well aware of the various memes circulating the media. However, he doesn’t have much of a close affinity to them, and only really uses them to mock someone online. Saitama on the other hand is oblivious, and Genos occasionally has to explain what a meme means for him to get it.

Never invite Genos to roast you. He will ruin your life. He already does it unintentionally with Saitama with his baldness, but when he does it on purpose?

Random Bitch: He’s a pretty good lay, though his nose was pretty ugly. He kept going on and on about how much he wanted to marry me- gross shit, I know, but if he keeps giving me the check, I’ll suck up to him and say I love him too.

Genos: *murderous, unimpressed glare* You expect me to believe that there’s someone who’d willingly sleep with you, and not immediately kill themselves afterwards?

Random Bitch:

Metal Bat has one hell of a sweet tooth. He’s got his heart set on chocolate, but he’s also fond of the classics: the aforementioned, vanilla, and cookies and cream when it comes to ice cream. He loves the cola flavoured lollipops, and if he had to get himself a boba tea, he’d go for the Taro flavour: it’s just too good to him. He didn’t care too much for strawberry, but Zenko’s love for it encouraged him to develop a liking towards it. His go-to snacks are Oreos, home made chocolate fudge, and pocky; with the occasional cola lollipop if he’s got to focus on something and can’t afford to get distracted by constantly chowing down on sweets.

His metabolism isn’t as nearly insane (practically inhuman) as Garou’s or Genos’s, but it’s more than fast enough to make him avoid gaining weight from them. Paired with his delinquent persona, (and buying sweets incognito from cutesy sweet shops the same way that King buys video games) most people are often surprised when he has a strong liking for them.

Since Genos uses intense firepower, he also has a hydraulic cooling system to cool him down. The only times where he steams up is during or after a fight when he’s used his fuel intensively, and the steam primarily comes from his arms, the jets from behind his shoulders, and occasionally his mouth if the arms use far more firepower than usual. For the times where he’s really, really worked up emotionally (mortified, furious, etc) bits of steam can be seen coming from his mouth, but it’s never extreme enough to get his whole body to follow suit. Apart from battle, his body is usually safe to touch due to how efficient his cooling system is: that includes the times when he’s angry, but not getting ready to fight. (I will die on this hill for this headcanon. >:0!!)

When it comes to people he respects, Genos deliberately lies or hides anything relating to him that might trouble them. That also includes his true thoughts on what you’re enamored with, his private disgust at your gross habits, and redirecting attention away from potentially offensive topics towards something that might catch your interest. Any mortifying but true things said about yourself has him in silence, unsure of how to navigate the topic without offending you.

Contrary to popular belief, Genos is actually pretty levelheaded when people insult Saitama online. He’s seen everything that people have to say about Saitama, and knows that fighting every fight- both small and huge- on the Internet isn’t worth it, since there’s always going to be horrible things said about him by people he’s unlikely to ever meet in person. Besides, no one would listen to some random user saying that Caped Baldy isn’t all that bad, and he’d rather not use his popularity as Demon Cyborg to attract unwanted attention to the both of them by praising Caped Baldy when they have better things to do. (*cough* shopping for discounts with his precious sensei *cough*) He deletes his history when he’s done browsing and subtly tries to steer Saitama away from sites that he knows are saying horrible stuff about him when his Sensei gets interested. It’s when people insult Saitama directly (e.g. In person, a fan letter that Saitama reads) that makes him angry.

Genos hates the thought of being inexperienced or having his attempts end in a failure, but he loathes it if Saitama bears witness to it. He’s far more passionate and attentive whenever his teacher is involved in any way to what he’s doing, in the hopes that perhaps, seeing his disciple taking his role seriously and not missing anything/using his time to slack off, Saitama would take him more seriously in return and tell him the true secret to his strength. (Which he already gave, poor Genos.)

When he’s caught off guard and rendered to near death by his opponents, it wasn’t because he underestimated them: it was because Genos overestimated his own strength, thinking that it was enough to kill them. He treats any and every threat seriously, no matter how weak or strong looking they are. From the meek, gross looking toilet monster, to the horrifying titanic threat that is Elder Centipede, Genos will engage his opponent with the intent of eliminating the threat by any means. He knows that weak looking monsters can house unimaginable strength as a surprise attack, and strong looking monsters could have unexpected powers that could catch him off guard. He’d never laugh or smile during a fight, knowing that his opponent is inherently dangerous and likely to endanger countless lives if they’re not eliminated.

(This is dark, but: he’s also the only member in the trio that’s killed people before, if not the most willing if push comes to shove.)

While he doesn’t care too much about his popularity, he does know that his fan clubs can be a powerful resource and will occasionally (and subtly) cater to them. His main way of doing so is buying himself clothes to make him look handsome (which he does more frequently thanks to the money he gets as an S-class,) and to keep up the ‘mysterious, alluring Cyborg Prince’ persona by refusing interviews and close relations with his fans: basically, by being himself. (Which he is more than willing to do.)

Genos, despite clearly stating his opinions on hero teams, (summary: he thinks they suck) doesn’t actually mind teaming up with other heroes on occasion. He knows that some heroes are capable of doing tasks that he wouldn’t do too well at, or would be able to do at all (especially if it’s ensuring the welfare of a group of people,) and will willingly team up if he thinks it’s for the best. It’s when those heroes make teams that they continuously depend on that he starts losing respect for them.

Inspired by this. One of his favorite clothing brands is Grin and Bears, particularly their men’s hoodies section. Alongside Amai Mask, Genos has occasionally been offered to be sponsored by several clothing brands due to how well he wears his designer clothing.

Genos has a good reason for liking oiled sardines. The food in particular was part of his old life where his family couldn’t afford much, and bought canned food more often than not. Vegetables and breads are nice and cheap, but are fairly bland. Oiled sardines is far more flavorful, and it was one of the first foods that he had tried that wasn’t the former two: unsurprisingly, he soon after became a fan of them.

Garou prefers hearty, nutrient rich foods. While he doesn’t have one favourite meal in particular, well rounded meals that involve vegetables and meats will have him wolfing it down. That includes steaks with nice veggies like potatoes and carrots and salads: it’s fairly balanced and there’s plenty to eat, hence his choice to go to a steak house to replenish his strength.

Don’t give Garou caffeine. He’s batshit insane and bloodthirsty when he’s high on it, and he’s far more irritable than he usually is when he crashes.

Genos doesn’t have fond memories of his birthday. His parents loved him, but would overwork themselves to get him a gift and it made him feel guilty every time, even though he insisted that they don’t go through the trouble. He never made plans to tell Saitama, but that information was included in his registration sheet to the H.A. and it was broadcasted on every talk show and website: needless to say, he caught wind of it. Like the festival, Saitama insists that they celebrate, and while Genos can’t completely shake off his bad experiences of it + fully engage and understand why Saitama is doing this, he’s slowly (somewhat reluctantly) getting more curious on what experiencing a good birthday is like. Saitama got him a cake on sale with a few coupons, and it looks kind of basic and a little corny with the decorations, but Genos still thanks Saitama for it and eats it all the same. Genos doesn’t have a particular favourite flavour in regards to sweets. At least, not yet.

Badd remembers his birthdays somewhat bittersweetly, remembering his younger days: the times where he was surrounded by his family and watching YouTube videos/live sport matches with his friends, digging into fast foods like fish and chips and eating watermelon and ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Those days were gone now, but Zenko and the few friends that stood by his side even when he was swamped with work usually band together to give him a nice day off from fans, school, and the HA to celebrate his birthday. It’s a smaller circle than before, but he still cherishes those who he came to love as his found family and enjoys them, looking back on his past with a hint of nostalgia. His cake is always chocolate with Oreos.

Garou… his birthdays were lonely, and he remembers them bitterly. There was one time where he invited everyone in his class to his party and no one showed up.

This occasion actually happened prior to Tacchan, so while young!Garou was heartbroken, he tried to be optimistic and justified the incident to himself. It’s probably because he doesn’t know everyone that well… Maybe others are busy? Tests were coming up soon and everyone had to study: it’s okay! It makes sense why no one could come! That is, of course, until the obvious happened, and he lost faith in the people around him. Garou never told Bang when his birthday was, and Bang never pried, seeing the bitterness and determination in Garou’s heart to become stronger, and respecting his decision not to tell him. To this day, Garou treats his birthday like any other day, if he still remembers when it was.

Special Request by @rayadraws. How do Garou, Badd, Tareo, and Zenko react to Saitama?

I’ve actually loved her headcanon for Garou being wary and slightly afraid around Saitama at the start! So I believe that’s what he’ll initially be like around him. As time goes on, he’ll slowly relax and be subtly curious about him. Garou will crack jokes and teases from time to time, and while he does think it’s funny when Saitama sulks and complains about the trio teasing him for his baldness from time to time, he can’t stop the brief spike of fear that makes him freeze on instinct when Saitama is visibly angry. It’s an ambivalent situation for Garou: he’ll say no to Saitama asking if he can get something from the store, saying that ‘your tincan disciple can get it himself,’ but the serious, slightly furious face that Saitama puts on has him in silence for a few moments, before letting (forcing) out a seemingly lazy and nonchalant sigh and heading out the door to get it, his heart rate faster than it was a few moments ago.

His dreams can involve Saitama buying the most hideous pair of crocs and sporting a dopey face full of happiness at finding such a great discount, Dream!Garou groaning in disgust and walking away from him to do something else.

His nightmares can involve the feeling of rubber on his neck, slowly choking him as the bald man looks him straight in the eye above him, eyes startlingly dead and empty, daring him to make a move. His face could be replaced with that of a blank faced mannequin and hardly a difference can be seen. Nightmare!Garou remembers escaping somehow, jumping high enough to land himself in the cold, dark, suffocating expanse of space, and thinking to himself that he’d rather die up there rather than come back down to a desolate, barren earth: a lone man waiting to kill him as soon as he enters its atmosphere.

Garou’s relationship with Saitama, at first glance, is a seemingly normal one with the former lazing around his house and eating his food like an inconsiderate houseguest; but his feelings are anything but. As much as he pretends to not care much about Saitama, he’d listen carefully to what he has to say if he’s serious, and is a little more well behaved and observant around him. If Saitama imparts some of his rare pieces of advice, Garou would, on the outside, make a dull and uninterested note of it, but in reality he’d carefully consider his words in private.

- Badd knew that Saitama and Genos are a package deal, but when he found out that Saitama is Genos’s teacher, he’s incredulous.

‘You serious, man? This guy? What’s he even gonna teach ya?’

Seeing Genos’s glower and hours of him chewing out Badd while lavishing praises on sensei’s strength, wisdom, and humility drove home the point to Badd, who was practically groaning in exasperation and telling him that he gets it, just to get Genos to stop berating him. Seeing Saitama’s power finally makes him understand.

He’s somewhat more polite around him now, knowing that this is someone Genos respects, and Badd seeing Saitama living life and just generally being a good guy makes Badd’s opinion of him slowly grow. He sympathises with Saitama’s baldness, and out of the trio, is the least likely to tease him for it: deliberately or not. Badd himself shudders at the thought of losing his beloved pompadour, so he’s usually the one to say ‘quit it, you’re bumming him out’ to Genos whenever he’s unintentionally hurting Saitama’s feelings. Or a simple ‘holy shit Garou, stop’ when Garou makes a melodramatic re-enactment of Saitama’s offended reaction to Konbu’s supposed ‘benefits’ that Genos had informed him of. (Genos mentioned the event, and now they know all about it.)

Tareo, at first, doesn’t recognize him since he usually focuses on the cool heroes. When he finds out Saitama’s hero name, he’s taken aback. ‘You’re the Caped Baldy??’ He asks, with what sounded to be awe.

Apart from internally cringing at the name, Saitama is briefly (and pleasantly surprised) and was about to say yes, before Tareo ran over to Garou and whispered to him (quite loudly) to ‘be careful ojisan! That bald guy over there is bad news!’

(Saitama’s blank face was screwed on for a good 10 seconds.)

He’s wary of Saitama, asking questions such as ‘didn’t you steal credit from other heroes when the sea monsters attacked?’ for some time. It’s through Garou’s, Badd’s, and Genos’s good opinion of the man that Tareo slowly begins to trust that Saitama is a good person. ‘If uncle and his friends thinks he’s nice, maybe he’s not so bad…’

Same with Garou, Tareo refers to him as ‘ojisan.’ ;)c

Zenko… man, the main reason why I took so long creating this post is because I wouldn’t know how Zenko would react until I thought about it carefully.

Like Tareo, she’s wary and slightly antagonistic towards him once she realises who he is, though less so than Tareo since it’s a little difficult to steal credit from an S-Class like him: Metal Bat is one of those heroes who can take down most monsters by himself, so I imagine Zenko wouldn’t be too worried about Caped Baldy taking the credit, but rather, she’d be wary of him trying something else to drag her brother through the mud.

She may not cuss him out, or even outwardly call him a Baldy, but she can be just as strong willed as her brother. Her initial relationship with Saitama can be seen mostly as this:

She does know that while Badd has a hot temper, can be forgetful, and stirs up trouble sometimes, she also knows that he harbours a serious hatred for cowards and self centred cheats that put themselves over others. The fact that Badd isn’t threatening Saitama to (fuck off) leave him and his sister alone reassures her to some extent into believing that maybe the rumors aren’t true: she’s had her share of getting angry on Badd’s behalf when the news or gossip columns twist the truth about her brother, especially in a bad light, so she carefully observes him to see if he’s the person that most people make him out to be.

Like her brother, her opinion of him slowly grows. She’s assertive, but not rude. She won’t call him a Baldy or old man like Tareo or Tatsumaki, no matter how angry she gets. There’s just some buttons you don’t press, and Zenko doesn’t want to become a mean spirited person.

She does get sort of grossed out by some of his clothing choices and will confront him on it sooner or later, saying that ‘Mr Saitama, your clothes look ugly’ and that maybe he should start looking for better ones.

(This is also the perfect opportunity to get her to drag him shopping with her: clothes for the both of them! And she’s definitely going to pick out some clothes for Saitama.

I imagine that at the beginning, her fashion senses were still developing, and while she has her heart in the right place, it was a hit(?) or miss at the time. It gets way better later on, and she’s a little fashionista! Makeup and clothing are sure to look good on you when she picks them out herself~ But for this headcanon, you can decide if her fashion senses are more polished, or are still in development. Saitama’s fate of looking good/bad is up to you. ;3c)

Shared Traits

Badd doesn’t use any sort of weird quirk for how he texts. His source for punctuation is autocorrect and never exactly uses full stops unless he’s having a serious conversation: but even then, it’s fairly uncommon.

But he does use words and slangs like ‘dude’ and shortened words like ‘y’all.’

His swears are more relaxed in text, but only because you can’t hear his rough voice saying them; either way, he usually isn’t actually trying to intimidate you. When he gets angry, however, you can definitely feel the threats, the intimidation, and the tightly leashed anger dripping off of his words just as much as when he says them in person. If he’s angry, you’ll know it.

If he has time and is invested in a conversation, he likes using the occasional gif or emoticon but isn’t obnoxious with it.

Sometimes when he’s busy and doesn’t care, he uses all caps because he doesn’t want to deal with his words being autocorrected to something else. This is usually seen when he’s about to get into a fight.

When you ask him where he is when he’s out, he’s equally likely to text you the name of the place, or send you a photo of where he is.

When it’s a photo of Zenko, especially if it’s her with a prize or a trophy or a doll and she’s being cute, he spams hearts and praises of her.

Genos has perfect punctuation and grammar.

You know that annoying moment when the person you’re texting seemingly is texting a long ass message, only for it to come out as something like ‘ok’? Yeah… Genos never does that. (Unless he wants to say something important (and likely very personal) but is too reluctant to say it, and opts for something more mundane.)

He sends entire paragraphs if he’s explaining something or debriefing someone on some information.

His sentences are curt if he’s busy. It’ll come off as cold and rude to most people when they read them.

His recent emojis section has all the ones he can just text quickly if he’s far too busy to make sentences. Handy if he only has one arm or taking a breather from a monster fight.

Garou does not use autocorrect.

He’s obnoxious when he texts.

Memes, gifs, I wIlL bEaT tHe HeRo HuNtEr (With the spongebob meme template: specifically designed to mock heroes and wannabes who think they can take him down), spamming ‘answer me bitch’ to his poor recipient over and over until they reply, using so. Many. Emojis. For the sole purpose of annoying you.

If he’s texting Tareo, he’s pretty casual.

Hey lil turd I got some coupons for ice cream

I hate ice cream

Take them or im throwing them out

The no brainer: Genos and Garou are masters at eating competitions. Garou wolfs it all down quickly, whilst Genos is more dignified about how he eats, if the super spicy udon competition he had with Saitama is any indication. Badd can keep up, (mama didn’t raise no quitter!) but he’ll be struggling to get a grip on himself and stay awake.

If he wanted to, Genos can keep on eating for an extended period of time, limited only by the capacity of his fuel engines. (Which, by our stomach’s standards, is practically infinite for how much he can eat in so short a time and still keep going for hours.) His body can essentially turn the foods and drinks he ingests either into nutrients for the brain, or fuel for his firepower: continuously keeping his engines active will digest what he eats on a semi-fast level.

If the trio do end up becoming friends in canon, I imagine that they’d pick up on each other’s traits subconsciously. Badd’s and Genos’s smirks are faint facsimiles of Garou’s. Badd and Garou take after Genos’s protectiveness over items on sale at the supermarket, knowing how rare the occasion can be to get discounts for some in particular. Genos and Garou say ‘haah?’ in an intimidating manner, on instinct, to people they don’t like thanks to Badd. And of course, all three swear more often, usually under their breaths whenever something goes wrong, or to quietly insult someone without causing a scene.

It’s pretty obvious that Genos prefers slim fitting clothing. Anything too baggy will catch/snag and tear on his surroundings and hinder his ability to use his weapons. Badd prefers slightly loose clothing since he’s pretty hot tempered and he gets worked up for fights pretty easily, and clammy clothes aren’t exactly comfortable. Garou is a mix of both: when it comes to clothing, it’s either the clothes are light and form fitting enough to be second skin so he doesn’t have to worry about it snagging, or the clothes are just the right amount of loose to make him look decent, but not like he’s wearing painted on clothing. He’s alright with either option. Emphasis on form fitting. He canonically hates clothes that restrict his movements, and his usual shirt is made of normal, lightweight fabric, so Garou won’t be too keen on the idea of wearing a skin tight bodysuit made of latex or leather.

#opm #shitty teen squad #hellion trio #zenko #badd #metal bat #genos #garou #tareo #saitama #headcanons

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matildainmotion · 4 years

Text

The Monstrous Shame of Motherhood and the Quest for a Cure

I feel exhausted. Even-more-than-usual exhausted. Whoever knew that staying at home could be so incredibly tiring. We have our daily outings – mainly to the golf course, which is the nearest green we have. The other evening, when we had finally made it out the house, and the children were running ahead of me across the fitted-carpet grass, I had a thought: “Maybe it will be okay,” and instantly I wanted to cry. It wasn’t a thought only about the pandemic. It was about the lot: the pandemic, plus how to get an autism diagnosis for my son that supports him, plus my 78 year old mother staying well, plus my husband’s work and the theatre community surviving in a post-Covid world, plus managing to finish my book, plus both my children’s long term futures, plus the world’s long term future and climate change, plus racial inequality, plus economic inequality, plus gender inequality, plus, plus…..

In that moment I realised that a kind of deep worry is such a constant for me now that I have grown accustomed to it, so that it is like the planes that used to fly over our house in London – a noise so familiar that after a while I no longer hear it, and yet it is there, every few minutes, unnoticed, another monstrous metal groan. And when it stops - when the planes stay down, when the worries lift up - the sudden silence is startling, enough to make me cry. But – here’s the thing- thanks to the lockdown I have realised that it isn’t just worry to which I have grown accustomed in this way. There is something else, even more monstrous, which it has taken me a long time to name – and its name is shame.

I believe the shame comes from a thousand ‘shoulds,’ from the many things I feel I should be doing as a mother and am not. Motherhood, along with the paraphernalia of nappies, wipes and purees, comes with a huge bundle of shoulds. The very first thing I did, nine years ago now, on discovering that I was pregnant, was to rush out to Waterstones and buy a book on what I should and shouldn’t eat during the next nine months– and that was only the beginning. The shoulds come from everywhere, a mountain of well-meant advice, not only from books, but from doctors, midwives, family members, partners, friends, other mothers, even complete strangers. I remember standing in a shop queue with my three-week-old son in a sling, when the woman behind me leant forward and touched one of his toes. “Where’s his socks?” she said, “He’ll catch his death of cold.” On the one hand I felt reasonably confident that carrying my son around sock-less was not going to endanger his life, on the other, as a brand new mother, I was nonetheless shaken by the idea that my son’s survival was up to me, and that many different people had many different ideas about how best I should fulfil my role of raising and protecting him. At times, even my instinct, that famous maternal inner guide, seemed like a mysterious thing that someone else had told me I should follow.

Mothers Who Make began, in part, as a response to all these shoulds. When I went along to the new mother and baby groups, that I also believed to be obligatory, I noticed a distressing pattern. All too often we were simply swapping ‘shoulds’ with each other and coming away feeling worse than when we arrived. No place or position was safe: I met mothers who felt they should be breastfeeding, mothers who felt the need to put a label saying ‘breastmilk’ on the bottle they fed their baby in public, as well as mothers who felt they should be weaning their baby and moving rapidly onto solids. I met mothers who felt bad about co-sleeping and mothers who felt bad about not doing so. In those early days of mothering - when you should be feeling overjoyed - there are even charts that tell you what should be happening when, how much your child should weigh, by when they should be making eye contact etc. It is not that these charts are entirely unhelpful or inaccurate, but they certainly encouraged my constant questioning: is my child okay? Am I okay? Am I doing this right? And if I thought I wasn’t, if I was not doing what I should, I felt ashamed.

I have felt many parallels between lockdown and early motherhood – the sudden cessation of all usual activity, the focus on ‘intensive care’ and care-taking, the washing, the sense of vulnerability, the way leaving the house seems like an epic adventure, the isolation and longing for connection. And, as in early motherhood, our diverse lives are again apparently aligned. We are all in the same situation: all the mothers in those baby groups had a new born / all the mothers I know now are in lockdown due to a pandemic. This makes comparison seem possible, even appropriate. There is a set of scales around again – I weigh our lives on it and find myself at fault.

Let me give you a small sample of some of the shoulds that fly low over my home, through my mind, like aeroplanes, a few of the many that I have collected over my nine years of mothering. I should get my children to bed earlier. I should give them less screen time, or it shouldn’t happen first thing in the morning, or I should manage the whole issue of screens in a better, different way. I should give them less choice about what they eat. I should make sure they eat more fresh foods and less sugar. I should make them help around the house more. I should hold the structure of the day better. I should make sure everyone stays at the table when we’re eating. I should take steps towards weaning my daughter. I should never resort to threats – to the ‘if you don’t stop x, you won’t get y’ pattern. And so on and so forth – you get the gist. And because I do not do these things - and I imagine a thousand other mothers who are doing them wonderfully - I feel ashamed. I realise as I write this that my ‘shoulds,’ as listed here, are nice, white, middle class ones- signs of privilege. Shame is a heavy word and it is associated with far darker things than letting your kids watch too much telly. I want to acknowledge that my issues are trifling compared to those many have to navigate, but shame, whatever the context, is still shame and it is powerful. As someone who was once anorexic, I know that shame can sit alongside privilege and that, where present, it undermines the ease of even the most comfortable life.

Back in Jan 2019 I wrote a blog about guilt. I now think I was muddling up some of my guilt and my shame. In general, I feel guilty about specific instances that have an immediate, present moment, ground-level reality: I shouted at my son when he blasted water over the bathroom with the shower head and that triggered one of his big, aggressive rages. If I feel guilty about something, I can say sorry about it, to the person or people I have wronged, and then it’s over. Shame, for me, is more like the ongoing aeroplanes, it is long term - a long haul flight. On the bad days, motherhood seems like a very lengthy exam, the end of it still twenty years away. My children are not the examiners – certainly not for now – they are the results. Depending on how the children turn out, I will pass or fail. There are external examiners, keeping track, making notes, of all the things I am doing or not doing. And who are they, these examiners? I think, somewhere in my psyche, there is an impressive panel of them, made up of everyone who has ever shared ‘a should’ with me, from the author of the book on what to eat during pregnancy, to the woman in the queue who wanted my son to be in socks, to the many other authors, friends and strangers who have offered me advice - they are all sitting there, scribbling on their notepads, shaking their heads. They are not bad people. Many of them are people for whom I have enormous respect, which makes it worse. I believe in their advice – seriously, I should be following it.

In my blog on guilt, I found my guilt a figure – made it into an image that helped me connect to the things that mattered to me, lying underneath the guilt. It turned out to be a Mary Poppins-like character, flying a kite. I think my shame has a very different form. There is the panel of judges, frowning from a distance, and then there is the shame herself, much closer in, and, like the sound of the low-flying planes, she’s monstrous.

My son’s latest obsession is the Beast Quest books (he has moved on from My Little Pony - woe betide you if you mention his former interest to him). There are over a hundred Beast Quest books, all with the same basic formula – boy meets monster. Giant birds, snakes, insects, spiders, bears, apes, hounds, trolls, ogres, dragons – you name your flavour of nightmarish monster, it will be there. I am glad to say there is a reasonable spread of gender representations across the monsters – sadly none of them are trans but there are some mothers. My ‘shame monster’ is definitely a mother. She is immense, stinking, gruesome and green. Her roar is the soundtrack of my days, to which I have grown accustomed. In some of the Beast Quest books the beasts are evil and must be destroyed, but in some they are good, set under an evil curse, from which they must be freed. I think my monstrous shame mother is one of these – good at heart but under pressure, after years of judgement, she has turned malevolent. And here is the irony: I believe her malevolent aspect has a more toxic impact on my children and our household, than any of the things such as screen time, sugar, late nights, unstructured days, which have driven her into this terrible state. Her constant growling makes me tense, fractious and very, very tired. I don’t think I can go on like this. So, what to do? How to release her from the curse? And who would she be without it?

Often the opposite of shame is presented as pride. But I think pride too is problematic – the panel of judges, external examiners, is still present in the dynamic, it’s just that they are giving out good marks instead of bad. So, if the shame-beast, when transformed, does not turn into the proud mother, who does she become?

As ever, when I am wrangling with a question in my mothering, I look to my making for answers. Throughout the lockdown I have been writing whenever I can. Always, when the children are having their screen time. Often, when I should be getting them dressed, or focussing on making us breakfast, or preparing them for bed. I don’t write because I should. I write because I want to do it, because it helps me give things meaning, because it brings me joy. I think back to that teary moment on the golf course, watching the children run ahead of me over the grass. What made the worry lift, the planes stop, the monster turn out good? Yes, I think it was a moment of joy. I think, when the gory green monster is not sweating with shame, she is lit up with joy.

So much, so often, is laid at the mother’s door. On the one hand we are ‘just’ being mums, with minimal status, doing an insignificant job, and on the other, we are accorded huge significance – everything can be traced back to us, to our care or the lack of it, our early influence. I do not wish to deny our responsibility as mothers, but I do not believe our shame helps us to shoulder it, or that we should shoulder it alone. When I started Mothers Who Make I wanted it to be a held peer-support space where women could share their challenges without shame, and celebrate, even cultivate, their joy. I wanted to create a group in which we did not find further fault, did not inadvertently end up undermining or judging one another, adding to the great big bundles of shoulds already carried. It is why it is still vital to me that we welcome every kind of mother – breastfeeding, bottle-feeding, those who keep their mothering and their making strictly separate, those who take their children to work – every kind. It is also the same impulse that lies behind our Matronage scheme. Rather than a panel of judges telling us whether or not we are worthy, I want to see whether we can hold each other up. We have been asking people to become our ‘Matron Saints’ by giving us the price of a coffee a month - £3. We need 300 of you to become self-sustaining. So far we have a fantastic 99! Once we reach 100, I am going to announce a new project in celebration– a way, I hope, to keep the same ethos of grassroots peer-support alive and kicking – kicking off the shoulds, turning them into wishes and dreams.

And in the meantime, whilst you are all rushing to bring us over the 100 Matron Saint mark, (go here to do so: www.motherswhomake.org) these are your questions for the month: as a mother and/ or as a maker what are the ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’ you carry around with you? Do your ‘shoulds’ turn into shame? And then- as an antidote to this -what brings you joy? In your mothering? In your making? As we slowly emerge out of this pandemic, can you do more of this? Can you create a more shameless world? Can you help make the monsters joyful?

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apotatomashedbybts · 5 years

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But You Do...

[GENRE: fluff, angst

Pairing: Kim Namjoon × OC (reader)

Word Count: 3.4k+

*Italics are used to indicate the past incidents*

Warning: Explicit depiction of verbal abuse and unhealthy family relationships]

[Summary: Lee, an ordinary girl, with an ordinary wish to have a loving family. But not always all wishes come true, not even the simplest ones. She still has to know that family doesn't always mean the same, it could be a single person too.]

{A/n: *sigh* I came out of my another session of procrastination! I hope you will like this chapter! Please do comment or send me an ask telling me about your opinion about this! Thank you for reading! Love you 💜

Tags: @njssi and @intheruinsofmyown

The alarm clock pulled Lee out of her dreamless sleep earning itself a groan from her. "Why did I even put on the alarm in the first place?" She thought to herself irritatingly and pulled the blanket closer, clearly attempting to get some more sleep. After about half an hour, she woke up to check the time. With half closed eyes she saw that it was 10:30am and thought to herself, "Ah! I will sleep for 30 minutes more." Then rolling over she stuffed her face into the pillow and went back to sleep again. She woke up with a start, head still dizzy from sleeping so much, and looking at her mobile she noticed that it was 2:45pm. "I will sleep for five minutes more. I am not that hungry yet." She convinced herself and like that her five more minutes turned into a few more hours and when she finally woke up the sun had already gone down and she was hungry like a wolf. Pulling herself out of the bed she took a quick shower and decided to eat outside because she wasn't feeling like eating that hotel's food tonight.

Walking through the crowd of returning office workers she sighed heavily. She wondered if her life would be like that too where she could return back to her family at the end of the day. But again the memories of family only pained her and that's why she took this decision to begin with. She told herself that days will get better and stopped in front of a tteokbeoki shop. Inhaling the savoury scent she walked in smiling and took an empty seat in the corner. As Lee made herself comfortable and waited for the waiter to approach her a group of cheerful young boys and girls entered the shop and took the empty table that was just opposite to her's. She tried to ignore all the ruckus that they were causing but then suddenly her eyes caught something which made her heart participate in a tantrum along with her brain. "Holy fuck! I totally forgot that Linda's distant friends are coming today for the late bachelorette party! Oh God why are you doing this? Why here of all places?" Her body reacted involuntarily and she moved to the opposite seat where her back was facing at them. She prayed hard to go unnoticed by her sister and thanked God that she decided to wear the new hoodie tonight that none of her family members had seen yet. Putting on the pollution mask she shook her legs anxiously as the waiter reached her to take the order. She pulled away her mask slightly and almost tried to whisper out the words - out of fear that her sister would recognise her voice - and said, "I'll order a tteokbeoki to go please. And also please make it quick. I am actually in a bit of hurry." And displaying a constipated smile she went back to her anxious leg-shaking session. . Lee couldn't remember when was the last time she had walked so fast. It was as if a psycho killer was on a hunt for her. Releasing her body on the bed she took in the much needed breath and sighed loudly. "Why do I always find myself running away from the ones I love? Why am I so unlucky?" She asked the unknown entity and wiped away the tears that had started to fall.

"Come on mom! You can't do that! You know that Lee is allergic to flowers! If you are planning on decorating the whole venue with flowers then you are definitely doing a mistake?" Lee could hear her brother argue with her mom from inside her room. She just felt bad for her brother that he had to argue for her. In this family only her brother was the one who had ever supported her. Though her father empathised with her but he never visibly supported her, at least never in front of his wife. "What do you mean by I am doing a mistake? An wedding venue without flowers? It's our Linda's wedding! You know how much she likes flowers! Of course I am going to decorate the whole venue with flowers!" Mrs. Seo retorted. "Then at least don't make her the maid of honour! She shouldn't even attend the wedding. Mom! You will kill her!" Lee could sense the extreme anger in his voice. She just wanted to go out and stop them but she knew that it would only make everything worse. So she decided to go back to what she was doing - searching for potential jobs online. "See Logan, it's totally Lee's fault that she is allergic to flowers! And she IS going to be the Maid of Honour, no matter what! There's no one who is willing to take the pressure of that position! So swallow it and shut up. I have work to do." Saying this she went to her room humming happily, a happiness that came from victory.

Logan turned around, frustrated because of the evident defeat, and noticed that Linda was leaning on the kitchen door with a lollipop in her mouth. It was quite clear from her expression that she watched the whole argument and was quite happy with how it went. It didn't take much time for Logan to understand what was happening, so he went straight upto her and asked, "It was you, wasn't it? How could you?" She rolled her eyes and taking out the lollipop from her mouth, replied, "Me? What did I do? Why are you charging me?" "Come on! Do you think I am a fool who can't see through you? You are the reason behind mom being stubborn!" Logan replied after scoffing. "So what? It's my fucking wedding! I like flowers and I will decide who my maid of honour will be! It's none of your business! Fill your wedding venue with plastics and stay away from ruining mine!" Logan looked at her frustratingly as she turned on her heels and went into her room after saying all these. A defeated sigh made its way out of his lungs and Logan turned around to go back to his room only to find Lee standing outside her door and looking at him - a look that he could recognise right away, a look that he was habituated to see since he was mature enough to understand - with sadness and gratefulness. She walked up to him and ruffling his messy hair smiled at him with adoration. "I am sorry. It's my fault that you have to go through this all the time." She said choking back the tears. "It's not your fault! It never was!" He replied, and looked away sighing. "Okay! Leave this. Let's go get some ice cream outside! Hmm? My treat!" She looked at his face with a pleading look. A desperate try to calm him down sat down in her heart. He just nodded and smiled, trying hard to not make his sister more upset. Since he was a child, the difference in treating his oldest sister and the others in family was quite apparent to him and he couldn't help but protest against it. He loved his oldest sister dearly and could understand how miserable she felt but his opinions regarding Lee had always been next to nothing for everyone else in the family.

"Ah! The weather is so nice today! Which flavour should we get?" Lee asked with a cheery smile and looked through the menu placard. "I want the vanilla ice cream with honey!" Logan said, pointing to the one he wanted. "Okay then! One vanilla ice cream with honey and one rainbow cone, please." Lee ordered with a polite smile.

Instead of returning right away, they sat on the swings in the nearby park and talked while eating the ice creams. "Are you sure that you will be okay with this?" Lee could understand that Logan was never going to stop worrying but there was nothing she could do too. So she accepted her fate, her mother's judgement. "I'll be fine. Don't worry! I'll go through this just fine! You should worry about yourself. Aren't you going on a date with your crush, Belle, tomorrow? Let me give you some useful tips!" Lee winked at her brother. "Ah! Stop, I will just deal with it right! And restrict yourself from thinking yourself as some kind of love guru, ha ha ha, you are the one here who needs an advice." Logan burst out laughing while leaning towards his front. "You are such a brat! I am not talking with you! Hmph!" Lee turned her head to the other side showing fake anger. Her brother's small teasing were one of the few things that kept her happy and these felt a lot better than her mother's hurtful words. Logan knew what would make his sister turn her face towards him. He began swaying the small bowl of half-filled ice cream in front of her nose and started luring her, "Ummm this flavorful ice-cream would just go to waste of I don't finish this right now. I am just gonna gulp this down like water and may be not share this with Lee-the-food-monster. Hmm hmm I should do that." And started taking it back real slowly. Lee just couldn't let the opportunity slip away - she snatched the small bowl from her brother's hand and putting a spoonful in her mouth shoved her half finished cone in Logan's hand; these small yet significant things are what made their sibling love stronger. .

"Oh so you are back! Done spoiling your own brother? What good have you ever done? What will you ever do with that evil brain of yours?" The stone storms started as soon as they stepped through the door. Their mother was just waiting for them to "place them on the right track'.

"At least I won't bully my own daughter!" Lee replied and suddenly loud cheers and the song La-da-da-da-dah /It's the one and only D-O-double-G started playing in the background and someone put black sunglasses on her eyes and a cigar in Lee's mouth .

"Are you even listening to what I am saying? Whenever I am seeing you, you are always staring into the space and daydreaming!" The shout from her mom pulled Lee out of her trance and she blinked her eyes several times realising that it was only her imagination. She sighed loudly and stayed silent - after all her replies would only get more replies back.

Her mom shook her head in frustration and said, "I can't stop you from being a disappointment but do me a favour and go to sleep! Next week is your sister's wedding and the last thing I would want is to get blamed for your horrible looks. And Logan, dear, stop hanging out with her so much honey, it's for your betterment." Piercing this words through Lee's heart Mrs. Seo went back to her room.

"Hey, let's go to sleep okay? Good night!" Lee wished her brother in a shaky voice and went inside her room in a hurry. Logan knew what she was going to do now but he had nothing to do so he whispered a small 'I love you' to her before she closed the door behind her. Switching off the lights she curled into a ball on her bed. She did this every time she got hurt by her mother. By this time she should have gotten used to all of these but still she wasn't. All she ever wanted was a loving family, a loving mother like they show in the TVs, like her friends had. She wanted to hear loving words but all she ever heard from her mother was how she wanted to die because of her. The silent screams that faded into the darkness were the only companions she had and sometimes she didn't even mind them.

~Wedding day~

Lee hummed happily while getting ready for her sister's big day. The main reason was though not the wedding, it was her job confirmation that she received last night. She had to move to Seoul for it next month and she had decided to share the happy news with everyone at evening while giving toast. She hurriedly made a few important calls reminding all the bridesmaids to arrive at the venue sharply at 11 am and went to have her breakfast before doing her make-up. She was alone at her house because her mother had strictly told her to arrive at the venue just half an hour before the ceremony began and she herself had drove away to the venue along with the others at dawn. Though surprised at such a weird order Lee dared not to question her mother so she had kept shut and stayed back. Arriving at the venue Lee looked into every arrangements carefully and though she had taken her medicines in the morning, the presence of so many flowers were not being her friend at all. Displaying a troubled smile she went in to bring the bride and corrected the order in which everyone was going to enter the altar. She was going to enter the venue alone right after bridesmaids and ushers. She smiled to herself nervously and entered when suddenly a bucket full of pink rose petals fell on her. She was surprised at first then horrified after realising what just happened. A few seconds passed by before her eyes blurred out slightly and she noticed her mom smiling with satisfaction. She quickly walked to the altar to take the inhaler secretly and waited impatiently for the bride and groom to take their vows. After the completion of vows she quickly walked over to her mother and said, "Mom, can you please come with me to the guestroom?" Her mom sighed reluctantly and followed who was followed shortly by Logan. "What is it?" Her mom demanded. Lee rummaged through her bag frantically for her medicines but there weren't any. She remembered that she had forgotten to buy the refills and cursed herself mentally. She turned around to face her mother who had an unpleasant look on her face. Lee took the inhaler sharply and asked, "What is it? Are you asking me that question seriously? Is this some kind of sick joke? See mom, I know you don't like me but you didn't have to do this!" Her mom displayed a shocked expression and replied, "What do you mean? That was only because I wanted to create a beautiful moment for you!" "Are you even listening to yourself mom? Sorry for talking to you like this but you have lost your mind! The thought of 'creating beautiful moments' for me never crossed your mind for even once in all these fucking years and now you are doing this in front of everyone when you are clearly aware of the fact that I am allergic to flowers! You know very well how they affect me!" Lee started breathing heavily after saying all these without a break and noticed her brother entering through the door quietly. "It's totally your fault that beautiful things never suit you! How can a human being can be allergic to such beautiful things? This shows how bad of a soul you are! It feels so unbelievable that I gave birth to a child like you! What wrong have I ever done to have you? Look at your sister! And look at you! You can see the difference, right? Why don't you kill me already! Or die yourself! Seriously I can't stand you in front of my eyes! And as I have never, I will never love you in the future! You are just a curse! And yes I did this flower thing only to see you in pain!" Lee felt like her mother was shooting daggers at her that pierced right through her heart and the last sentence was the last shove to all the daggers. The last thing she heard before dashing out of the room was her brother saying, "Mom, that's enough! You have crossed your limit!" .

Lee woke up from her curled up position with a start when her phone started to ring loudly. She furrowed her eyebrows at the unknown number and picked it up reluctantly. "Hello? Is this Seo Lee?" A soothing careful voice spoke from the other side of the phone. "Dr. Kim Namjoon?" She asked surprised. "H-how? How did you know it's me?" Asked an even more surprised Dr. Kim Namjoon. "How can I ever forget such an endearing and soothing voice?" Lee whispered to herself. Not catching what she said Dr. Kim replied, "Sorry.. what did you say?" "Ah! Nothing, nothing. It's just that I remember your voice! By the way how did you get my number?" Embarrassed, Lee answered quickly to avoid the topic. "Actually I think you haven't noticed yet but you dropped your wallet at Nari's Tteokbeoki! I was here by chance today and found it lying on the bench. To find the owner I looked into it, sorry for that, and found out your identity card." He explained calmly. Hearing what he said Lee looked around her as if to confirm that she was really missing her wallet. Not finding it she facepalmed and asked herself mentally, "Why am I even doubting him?" and said humbly, "I am so sorry that you had to go through this because of me. Can you please tell me where you are then I can come and pick up my wallet?" "Of course, I am right here at Nari's Tteokbeoki! I thought may be you live somewhere near and that's why I didn't go anywhere else. I'll be waiting right here! Please take your time." He replied politely. "Thank you so much. I am hanging up now. See you soon Dr. Kim." Lee replied happily and hung up.

Heaving a relieved sigh Lee rose up to look herself in the mirror and started humming a song that she had listened to recently. She didn't know why but she could sense that she was really happy that she was getting to meet Dr. Kim. She never thought that she will see him again but the situation made it possible and her heart fluttered for an unknown reason. She decided to keep the feeling; she wanted to feel the happiness she was feeling right now without caring whether it'd hurt her later or not.

Reaching outside the tteokbeoki place she looked around and inside carefully to see if Linda and her friends were still there and sadly they were. "For how long are they gonna stay here? Geez!" Lee thought to herself and went to the alley beside the shop. She took out her phone to call Dr. Kim when a tap on her shoulder startled her and made her turn around with a start. The surprised look on the handsome man's face before her made her calm down a bit and she scratched the back of head embarrassingly, repeating a train of sorry-s. "You don't have to apologize so much, ha ha. Here, your wallet. I am glad that I found it otherwise it could have went to some bad people's hands." Dr. Namjoon Kim replied smiling. Lee looked at his smiling face and wondered how a human being could be so ethereal. The heart that was thumping madly until now out of fear was still thumping but for another reason.

"L-let me treat you to coffee tomorrow if you are free!" Lee blurted out before she could even realise and crossed her fingers mentally wishing to not get rejected. "Sure! Let me walk you home then!" He offered, the angelic smile still hung on his lips. "No no, it's totally fine. It's not far from here and the place is always busy too! So there will be no problem at all. I'll reach home safe! You already did a lot!" Lee blabbered out, still contemplating the fact that he agreed to her offer and also not wanting him to find out that she was staying at a hotel. "Okay then.. reach home safely okay? I'll text you when I'll be free tomorrow. See you later. Bye!" He said and waved cheerfully before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. A happy sigh came out of Lee's lungs and she asked herself, "Why did I bring up the coffee suddenly?" The answer was clear, "Because I want to see him again."

(To be continued...)

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ko-fanatic · 5 years

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Horrifying Martyrdom

For day two of @kyokao-week: Horror/Mystery

Rating: Mature

Pairing: KyoKao

Summary: It was no secret that Kyoya was sick. His thin frame attested it, so pale and tired, and what ghoul is those things if not sick or injured? It's fair to say that Kaoru didn't expect this...

Warning: Anorexia, auto-cannibalism, blood and gore, eye trauma, guro kink

A/N: While this would probably be okay to read as a stand-alone, it's probably best if you go and read my other fic, Blue Blood Tastes the Same, first.

Kaoru wasn’t sure what led up to this.

Well, that was a lie. He knew full well, but the issue was that he hated to think about it; hated knowing that Kyoya was so thin and delicate for a reason. Because what ghoul starves themself? It doesn’t make sense, especially for those in the position they were. If they chose, they didn’t have to hunt or see the poor unfortunate who’d be that night’s dinner. They could be as removed from it all as they wanted and didn’t have to worry about anything other than eating what was provided.

But there had always been something off about the Ootori boys, according to the gossips who whispered amongst their friends. Picky eaters, strange habits, small meals. A delicate constitution. Kyoya was by far the worst, but the story always changed when he was asked. He didn’t like others watching him eat, he felt like his favourite cuts would cause something of a stir (that got a laugh, at least), he just wasn’t hungry, he was sick.

Yoshio seemed to stick to the excuse that his son was ill, the older ladies of their standing – the ones who weren’t ghouls – cooing over him and treating him like a china doll. In a sense, standing outside the bathroom door now, Kyoya having locked himself inside… The man wasn’t wrong. But he had a feeling, an instinctual pull at his gut, that told him it wasn’t the whole truth.

His knuckles rapped lightly against the door, hoping Kyoya would at least acknowledge him despite the gagging and stuttering breaths he could hear within. He saw Kyoya’s eyes briefly as he rushed into the restroom; wide, beautiful, bleeding into stunning black and crimson as he ran.

“Are you alright in there?” He inquired, pressing up against the solid wood as if this were some sort of video game, and he could magically glitch through to the other side.

He swore he could hear gasps of pain added to the mix, hissed through gritted teeth, and it scared him. Should he call Yoshio? One of Kyoya’s brothers? They were doctors, after all, and probably knew what the hell was going on with him. He was only supposed to be there to discuss the new menu, but that was when things took a turn for the worst and now –

Oh. Oh God, that couldn’t be it, could it? All that talk of food, flavours, textures… Something hollowed in the pit of his abdomen, some organs falling into the wrong places and twisting into knots. Especially when he only heard Kyoya’s unsteady breathing grow harder. More laboured. He futilely grabbed the door handle, twisting and hoping and wishing that it would unlock and put his mind more at ease, but it obviously didn’t.

“Don’t come in…” Came a quiet voice – a defeated plea – from beyond the door. It was broken, but calmer. Not quite as forced, but it was still tinged with the aftershocks of desperation and pain –

And it made his heart break, if just a little bit. Or a lot, if he was honest with himself. The manager and chef of a ghoul restaurant, it almost made him laugh. Cheesy. But the situation called for much more tact than that.

“I have to Kyoya,” He began, voice as soft as cotton in hopes of softening the next words from his lips, “I’m worried. Can you let me in?”

“You don’t want to see,” The reply came, quiet but all too rushed, “I’ll be fine. I’m a ghoul, remember? It’ll be o –”

“With some kind of illness no one else seems to know about,” He argued, forehead falling against the door, “I… I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t just hum ‘see you later’ and walk out the door like that. At least let me make sure… for my own sake, at least…”

There was a silence. It seemed to stretch on for eternity, Kaoru debating what the best course of action would be if he was ignored. He could kick the door in, but he could easily hurt Kyoya if he did that, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they were.

“… It’s ugly…”

Kaoru almost laughed at that, out of relief at hearing Kyoya’s voice more than anything. “That’s not going to bother me,” He promised, “Besides, as if someone like you could ever be anything less than beautiful.”

Was that too much? Probably. However, rather than overthinking that little (or, not so little) indulgence into his crush, he was greeted with the lock clicking off. Kyoya didn’t open the door, but at least he granted Kaoru access, and he took advantage before the other boy could change his mind.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

The first thing he found was the previously white tile stained almost completely red. It was the first thing that drew his eye, and the sense of calm he’d gained dissipated instantly. How could anyone, especially a person as frail as Kyoya, bleed so much.

There he was, drenched in his own blood and curled into the corner of the room. The sight was something that should have disgusted him, but he only felt sorry for the broken boy, with some inappropriate lust thrown into the mix for an extra layer of wrong. One red and black eye stared back, the other replaced with a grotesque, delicious injury.

“K-Kyoya…” He gasped, rushing in and nearly crashing to his knees beside the other boy. One beautiful eye was teary and raw around Kyoya’s long lashes, the other gouged out and missing. He could see the white bone of the eye socket, muscle tissue and lipids almost seeming to bubble inside; his body trying and failing to heal itself. It wasn’t dark or cavernous – not what you’d immediately think – and he had to will his own eyes to stay hazel, “What happened to your eye?”

He placed his hand on Kyoya’s trembling, bony shoulder; scapula protruding beneath his hand like wings attempting to sprout and escape his thin flesh. Kyoya Ootori, crying his one eye out on the bathroom floor. Despite his frail appearance, he still had a lot of dignity, so he doubted anyone would truly believe this unless they were witnessing it for themselves.

“I ate it.”

The admission was so quiet, steeped in shame. Because even fewer ghouls eat themselves.

“I was just so hungry, I couldn’t stop myself,” He laughed, high and bitter and jarring, causing Kaoru to flinch, “I hate eating, but I was starving and it tasted so good. Eyes are so delicious, letting them burst on your tongue and slip down your throat… feels amazing. But it’s okay, I’m in control again, I’m not some sort of uncontrollable beast like she was –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kaoru cut in, disturbed by his senpai’s almost manic ranting, “You don’t like eating? Is that… all this is? Kyoya, why? Can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself –”

“Of course, but I don’t care!” Kyoya snapped, “I can’t be a binger. It’s proof that I have the self-control she didn’t! I’m a monster, we’re monsters, but at least I’m trying!”

“Who… who are you even talking about?” Kaoru had to restart that sentence, something indignant at the thought of being called a monster by a fellow ghoul, but he forced the irrational emotion from him. Kyoya called himself a monster, first and foremost, and it wouldn’t help to get angry. If anything, that would just discourage Kyoya telling him the truth about all this.

As he calmed, Kyoya lost the fight he’d clawed back, his remaining eyelid looking heavy and his shoulders slack. “You must know… Everyone knows. I can see it when they look at me. They’re waiting for me to gorge myself like my mother did…”

Oh. He should have known.

Really, he couldn’t say the Hitachiins really gave a shit about what Kyoya’s mother did, because she wasn’t that important. She was the disgrace you don’t mention if you’re polite. His own mother thought that lording her binge eating around as if that somehow made her better than everyone else was… distasteful. However, it’s not like they talked about it. Kaoru had honestly half-forgotten, only remembering when Kyoya said that. The reason why he didn’t eat. Kaoru would be lying if he said his heart didn’t break for this small, fragile boy who hid behind a powerful aura and iron will.

Kyoya was strong, and this didn’t change that. For a ghoul to pointedly ignore their hunger for as long as Kyoya did takes willpower. It’s painful, maddening, and this had been Kyoya’s life for years.

“What does it matter if they think that?” He inquired, shifting a little closer. He could feel the squelch of his blood-saturated trousers beneath his knees, but he didn’t particularly care. He touched their foreheads together, gazing into Kyoya’s remaining, pretty eye, “They don’t, but even so. It’s none of their business, and it’s more important to be healthy. You’re sick, Kyoya. Very sick.”

“We’re all sick,” He answered, and Kaoru was unsurprised. You can’t undo years of damage in a couple minutes, after all, even if that did kind of hurt.

He just nodded, standing to riffle through the cabinets. “Do you have a first aid kit in here?” He inquired, “Or at least some bandages?”

They’re in the small shelving unit beside the sink. Not that Kyoya’s room is at all dusty – but he expected more signs of stagnation within the supplies within the kit. A lotion or ointment out of date, perhaps. The issue is that it seems perfectly well-stocked, and while it does make sense for the son of a doctor, it makes him worry. If Kyoya took a bite out of himself today, it’s logical to think he’s done it before.

Instead of ruminating on that, he returns to his knees beside the boy, gently pressing a gauze pad to the empty eye socket and proceeding to carefully wrap the bandages around it. It seemed Kyoya was so desperate and reckless to eat anything that he also tore off his eyelid. Probably gulped it down with the rest, and he hates the arousal he can feel in his gut.

By the time he’s at the end of the bandage, Kyoya has thick layers of fabric obscuring his exposed eye socket and wrapped around his head, in the hopes of keeping it all in place. His black hair is sticking up over the white layers, and poking in between in places, and the image is somehow so adorable that he almost audibly coos. While there’s no way Kyoya can take him physically, he wouldn’t dare, if only because that would break whatever odd spell they’re currently under.

Instead, he slides an arm under Kyoya’s sharp knees and around those budding angel wings and lifts him in a princess carry. He’s so light – must be under a hundred pounds, surely, even at his height – and it’s worrying. The thin silver lining, however, is how Kyoya just nuzzles into the nape of his neck, arms looping around his shoulders.

He’ll get him some actual food soon, but for now, he places him down on that large, soft bed and snuggles up to Kyoya. He holds him like a porcelain doll, not wanting to bruise him, and pressed kisses to the skin behind the other boy’s ear until he hears the quiet snuffles and snores.

Then, he can rest. Nothing will change in a few hours, and they’ll be better prepared for the talk they have to have. But for now, he’ll sleep, curled up with his beautiful angel.

#ouran high school host club #OHSHC #kyokao week #kyokao #Kyoya Ootori #kaoru hitachiin #commoner's coffee au

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shivercloud · 5 years

Text

Love that grows part 1 Loki x reader

Warnings: fluff, sadness, grudge-holding, heavily pregnant reader, cussing, takes place during Thor Ragnarok

You are [Name] [F/N]'sdottir and Heimdall's niece as well as a new generation Valkyrie, just not a soul knows just your Uncle Heimdall who raised you as his own child when your parents died during a battle.

You wake up in bed your back to your love Loki Laufeyson Angrily. You recently hadn't been getting along with him you just never let the pent up anger out and it was sometimes sneaking out but you tried your best to hold in your anger since he usually saw you as calm and happy and you were pregnant with his child for 8 and a half months you were also engaged to him you knew you needed to let your pent up anger with him out but you just couldn't you didn't want to ruin your relationship. You knew that once you got married to him it would just cause issues, but you just couldn't.

Loki sits up and says "I have to go [Name], I will see you later" you just nod curtly and he says "you can always come with" you still say nothing he sighs at your no response. Loki says to you "you seriously can't be mad at me" you only answer by glaring at him and he sighs he says "well, I may as well go, but also I need to put the illusion on you" you sighed but nodded curtly you knew that if you said one word to him you'd end up exploding. He casts the illusion onto you that makes sure only he can see your large stomach.

He transforms himself into Odin after and Damn you hated that he was pretending to be Odin it was pure torcher and did nothing but put you into despair and somehow you still loved Loki and were loyal to him.

You sat up in bed and groaned in frustration and right then you felt the baby give you a large and painful kick so you hissed in pain "Ouch!" You climbed out of bed changing into something random being a green dress that was perfect for your round belly it was simple but comfortable and actually fit you. The baby kept on kicking you violently and some reason grew cold which was weird the baby only did that when there was danger nearby or oncoming danger. Which was one of your many abilities just you didn't get cold but the baby was jotun so it made sense. so you looked around and outside your window but there was absolutely nothing so you kept your furnished dagger with you keeping your guard up and left to go and join Loki well 'Odin' in watching theatre.

When you got there you sat near him and you felt like ice because the baby was still emitting cold so you elbowed 'Odin' still not wanting to talk to him he snaps his head and asks annoyed "what? What Is it?" You hissed as the baby kicked "Ouch!" You put Loki disguised as Odin's hand on your stomach seething out quietly "That!" He takes the hand off of your stomach almost right away and says "The baby senses oncoming danger, just don't let your guard down" you groaned at how little he paid attention to the baby and that you felt like ice because of it he seemed not to care at all which made you even more angry with him.

You sat there eating Loki's bowl of grapes and when the actor of Thor said something about Loki turning Thor into a frog you heard 'Odin' say "indeed it was" you continued to watch the play in boredom and looked at the statue he had up and it brought nothing but more anger you told him not to put it up but did he listen fuck no, you even told him it would blow his cover, but still he refused to listen he acted as if you were just a leech and it pissed you off but somehow you still managed to turn the other cheek and look past that.

Soon you see Thor and you say"yes!" 'Odin' looks at you and asks"what is it?" You seethe out "nothing that concerns you," He says "ok, calm down" you reply snarkily but quietly "don't order me around!" You clamp your mouth shut before you make a big scene.

The play ends and 'Odin' stands up clapping and says "well done, well done!" Thor walks out from the crowd and says "Father?" 'Odin' mutters "oh, shit" he sips from his wine and says "my son Thor has returned, greetings my boy."

you smirk deviously and say "well, you're screwed" he replies "not if I can help it" you seeth in a whisper "he probably already knows it's you, he's stupid but not THAT stupid" he ignores you so you roll your eyes and sigh frustrated. You gasped when the baby kicked you so you cuss quietly "crap, stop that you little shit!" Thor says to 'Odin' "it's an interesting play, what's it called?" 'Odin' replies "the tragedy of loki of Asgard, the people wanted to commemorate him," Thor says "and indeed they should, I like the statue a lot better looking than when he was alive, a little less weasly, greasy maybe" you can hear 'Odin' scoff and you get a bit angry even if you were pissed with Loki who is disguised as Odin.

Thor raises the skull and asks "do you know what this is?" 'Odin' replies "ooh the skull of Surtur, a formidable weapon," Thor says "well, do me a favour lock this up in the vault so it doesn't turn into a giant monster and destroy the whole planet" he hands it over to a guard. 'Odin' stands up and hands his drink over to you and says "thank you dear" you roll your eyes since that was totally sarcastic. He asks Thor "so uhm back to Midgard for you is it?" You could tell he was really nervous.

Thor replies "nope, I've been having this reoccurring dream lately, every night I see Asgard fall into ruins," Loki still disguised as Odin says "it's just a silly dream, a sign of an overactive imagination" Thor replies "possibly and then I decide to go out there and investigate, and what do I find, the nine realms completely in chaos, enemies of Asgard plotting our demise, all while you Odin the protector of the nine realms sit here in your bathrobe eating grapes" Loki well 'Odin' replies "yes well it is best to respect our neighbours freedom" Thor replies "yes, the freedom to be massacred" he tosses Mjolnir and catches it and Loki well 'Odin' says "yes, well I've been rather busy myself."

Thor asks "watching theatre?" 'Odin' replies "well, security council, board meetings and-" Thor cuts him off "your really gonna make me do it?" 'Odin' asks "do what?" Thor throws Mjolnir into the distance and stands behind 'Odin' holding him by the neck and says "nothing will stop Mjolnir as it returns to my hand, not even your face" 'Odin' says "you've gone quite mad, you'll be executed for this!" Thor lowers his voice "see you on the other side, brother." You mutter to yourself seething "of course, I knew Thor was smarter than that, I warned him, but did he listen to me, oh heck no! My, he's an idiot!"

Loki finally drops the illusion when Mjolnir almost hits him and shouts "alright, I yield!" Thor throws him out the way making everyone gasp except you, you simply roll your eyes knowing this would happen Skurge comes running and says clearly out of breath "behold, Thor... Odinson" Loki cuts Skurge off by snapping his fingers and saying clearly pissed off "no, no" he turns to Skurge really pissed off holding one finger up "you had one job, just the one!" You somehow found it attractive when Loki was pissed it was cute (I tbh think Loki is adorable right then).

You just couldn't stay away, could you? Everything was fine without you. Asgard was prospering. You've ruined everything, ask them."

Thor walks toward Loki intimidating and asks Loki "Where's father? Did you kill him?" Loki says clearly nervous" you had what you wanted, you got the independence you asked for" Thor makes Loki fall onto the couch holding Mjolnir against his chest and you gave Loki a glare followed by an eye roll

Loki glanced at you with a pleading look but you turned your face the opposite direction and glared at him Loki finally answered Thor in a pained voice "ow, ow, ow, ok, I know exactly where he is."

=========later========

The three and a bit over half of you went to Midgard and were standing by a building being demolished and Loki says "I swear I left him right here" Thor asks "here on the sidewalk or the building that's being demolished, great planning" Loki says "how was I supposed to know, I can't see into the future, im, not a witch" Thor says "really, then why do you dress like one?" You laugh and Loki glares at you so you glare back and your comment "I could've down it though."

Loki asks you "then why didn't you?" You roll your eyes and seethe "because you don't seem to give a damn about me as well as you didn't ask because you're a greedy and greasy jackass, who doesn't give a fuck about someone other than himself like me and your-" your cut off by a bunch of girls coming over and saying to Thor "can we have a picture with you?" Thor replies "of course" Loki rolls his eyes and the girls say to Thor before they leave "sorry to hear that Jane dumped you" Thor says, "she didn't dump me, it was mutual dumping," a circle appears around Loki's feet and Thor asks him "what are you doing?" Loki replies "this, isn't me."

Soon Loki disappears and you exhale somewhat more relaxed especially from that outburst of anger just now, but you were still pissed off and wanted so much to slap Loki at the least Thor pokes at the paper with his 'umbrella' and whispers "Loki?" You pat Thor's back sarcastically and say with sarcasm "Thor, you genius, he can't turn into a piece of paper" Thor picks up the paper and reads it Thor asks "so why are you so mad at my brother now?" you reply "many, many reasons, what about you and Jane?" Thor avoids your question and says "let's just go."

++++++++++++later++++++++++

You and Thor go to the place and a weird sorcerer guy appears and says "Thor Odinson, [Name] [F/N]'sdottir" you're shocked as to how he knows your name he says to Thor "you can put down, the umbrella" Thor does so, you all appear in a new room, you don't listen to a thing but soon enough your both seated and the sorcerer gives Thor some tea and you some flavours water Thor says "I don't drink tea" the sorcerer gives Thor something else being beer and you remain the same so you say "I want some of that to."

He says in a whisper "really I don't think so not with the little one in you" your eyes widen and you ask "what? How do you? What?" He replies "I have ways" sooner or later you zone out and don't hear a word but alone soon enough the sorcerer gets a book, grabs a piece of Thor's hair, making Thor roll down the stairs which you can't help but snicker to.

Randomly a portal appears and Thor says "I guess I'll be needing my brother back" the sorcerer replies "oh, right" Loki appears to fall out of a portal and onto the floor he says angrily "I have been falling for thirty minutes!"

the sorcerer says "you can handle him from here" you knew that was a bad idea but did nothing Loki seethes out "Handle me? Who are you? You think you're some kind of sorcerer? Don't think for one minute, you second-rate–" the sorcerer says "all right, bye-bye" he sends you all through a portal of some kind.

You land in a grassy area on a mountaintop Odin was standing by the edge, Loki and Thor walk over, you stay back since this was a family matter Odin says to them "do you hear it, your mother calls me" Thor glared at Loki and said "Loki, stop it" Loki shook his head and Odin says "took me quite a while to break from your spell, Frigga would have been proud, [Name] come over" Loki looks shocked at the praise. You ask Odin hesitantly "but im not-" he gestures for you to go over, so you do.

Odin looks at the engagement ring on your hand that you forgot about Loki had proposed before you were even pregnant and says "[Name], Loki you have my blessing" you smile slightly the first time in a while your anger dissolves right then and Loki looks at you fondly and smiles slightly he lifts your hand and kisses it right where the ring is and Odin says more things that you didn't quite listen to you because you were happy he praised Loki and gave you both his blessing.

The only things you really heard were a few things about Ragnarok after that Odin had disappeared and turned into a bunch of sparkles of a sort of course after saying he loved all of you. Thor was clearly angry and clouded with grief since storm clouds started to appear and Loki told you "[Name] stay back, or behind me" you nodded and obeyed.

Thor said to Loki " This is your fault!" You were too far back to hear anything and suddenly a portal appeared and women wearing Loki's colours which pissed you off an made you want to kill her right there but you couldn't, you had you and Loki's child in you. The baby was freezing you inside and out you felt as if you were getting frostbite and started to shiver Loki noticed and looked worried as well as concerned so you shook your head shivering and whisper "just get rid of her and why the heck is she wearing your colours?!" He shrugs and doesn't look happy about it. But changes into his Asgardian clothes Thor as well and you say "hey, don't forget about me?" He nods and you get changed into your Asgardian clothes and exhale in relief "this feels so much better than those Midgardian clothes.

Thor says to the women "I'm Thor Odinson" she comments "you don't look like him" Loki says "can we come to an arrangement" she comments "you sound like him" she says "kneel" Loki looks taken aback and says "beg your pardon?" Hela takes out necro swords and says "kneel before your queen" Thor throws Mjolnir at her which ends up being a bad idea because Hela destroys Mjolnir sending you and Loki backward, Loki obviously didn't put much thought into it but yells "bring us back!"

Thor shouts "NO!" But it was too late you were all already picked up by the Bifrost, Loki throws a dagger at Hela but she avoids it and sends it to you and Loki knocking you out, you land in a pile of trash and when you get up your furious and snap at Loki "YOU IDIOT, YOU ASSHOLE! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID?! YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL AND NOW THIS CHILD IS GOING TO BE BORN IN A PLANET FULL OF TRASH!"

Loki gulps and suddenly you feel like you were dunked in ice-cold water over and over again you were short on air it felt so you gasped and said "crap!" Loki looked worried and ask "no, no your not in labour, are you?!" You shake your head and he puts his hand on your stomach feeling the coldness you felt frozen, he grabs the bottom part of your top half of the dress and asks "may I?" You nod weakly he lofts it and shoves the bottom of it down slightly and he looks in horror as he sees that you have a bunch of burns and asks worriedly "is the baby doing this to you?!" You nod weakly and he says "we shouldn't have kept the baby! I knew it was all bad idea! It's killing you inside and out!"

You black out and Loki catches you just in time you get colder and colder, soon your pulse drops and your breathing slows tears prick at Loki's eyes and he says "no, no, no [Name], no you can't die! [Name] please no... I can't live without you, you mean the world to me! I need you... And our child, please..."

Loki shakes you and says "[Name]... Wake up, stay with me!" Loki sees the giant and weird building thinking I'll be able to heal [Name], there, it's not safe here.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::time skip:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You woke up and were engulfed in a tight embrace and looked to see Loki hugging him back, he kissed your cheek which surprised you and he knew it did so he asks "what's wrong?" You reply"its just that, you haven't exactly shown me ANY affection, for about a year or so, you haven't really given a shit about me for years or a year" Loki pulls you into his chest and says "I'm sorry about that" you reply "Loki, its fine" he replies "no it isn't and I know it."

You felt like you weren't carrying any extra weight so you say worriedly "NO, NO, WHERE IS THE BABY?!" Loki stops hugging you and says "calm down" he puts a hand on your stomach and says "right there, the baby is healthy and doing good" you sigh in relief and ask "where the heck are we though?" Loki replies "a place called Sakaar, its owned by a lunatic called 'the Grandmaster' he's an idiot, it was really easy to get in here," you ask "what did you have to do?"

Loki replies "well, I can persuade people you know and deceive them it was really easy, so almost nothing, just my persuasion" you reply "good, because I was thinking you'd try to kill him or threaten to" Loki chuckles "oh no, I wouldn't go that far right off the bat, besides I can lie my way out if I want to" you pull Loki into a hug and he wraps his arms around you tightly in a loving embrace, you kiss his cheek.

You stop hugging Loki and get up but he forces you back down and says "no, you need to rest, I've only just healed, your frostbite," you say "Loki, DONT order me around, you know I hate it and I can have a short temper and that'll just make me angry again, I don't mind it in bed but not otherwise" he smirks and says in that silky voice you loved "I know you do, my sweet" you giggle and say "stop, that Loki!"

He chuckles "alright I'll stop" you give Loki a peck on the lips and he smiles "I was so worried that you wouldn't live, never do that again, ok?" You reply "I won't don't worry and I didn't mean to worry you" Loki replies "I know but you did" you lift your top slightly and your eyes widen "it's completely healed" Loki replies "that's because I healed you to the best of my ability," you ask "were, you here the whole time?" Loki replies "yes I was, I didn't want to leave your side, especially in an unfamiliar place and... I was worried about you and the baby."

You smile slightly "I guess you do care" Loki replies "I've always cared, I'm just a bit of a fool sometimes" you lift a brow "sometimes? And just a bit?" Loki replies "don't push it" you reply "ok" you put Loki's hand on your stomach and the baby moves against his touch he smiles and says "our, little gift" you smile and nod he kisses the top of your hand and you ask "when are we gonna tell Thor?" Loki shrugs "I guess if he's alive whenever we think it's the right time, or he'll just see it right away" you nod and Loki says "you know, we haven't actually started thinking of names for the baby."

You reply "no, we haven't," Loki asks "want to?" You reply "of, course I do if you do as well that is?" Loki replies "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise"

#loki x reader #loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki #loki laufeyson #lokifluff #marvel #mcu characters #marvel mcu #mcuedit #Lokifanfic #Lokifriggason #alternate ending

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