#[bringing much love to all those who waited and delighted me during my absence]

[grimowled]

CHARCOAL WINGS STRETCH, unaffected and whooshing like sharpened blades through the storm at night-tide, two crimson beacons piercing the gloomy veil of mist and rain; the demon prince finally returns to his infernal domain, his absence from his affairs a long one.

(not that he cares; what business does an immortal demon with the power of prophecy have with the passing of time?)

his palatial home rises proud and grim against the blistery backdrop, a wuthering din breaking the deconsecrated silence that had since befallen it; rupturing from the tear in the dome above it, the belly of a genuine night-sky savagely pours the boom of thunder and flares of lighting, ripping through its darkened shroud.

the prince's sleek beak pulls into a thin smile, pleased by the primordial tempest that followed him home. water slides off his impervious cloak as he bids the front door open, the sigils around his estate blazing brightly to welcome imposing presence, and alerting the dormant staff to his return.

"hoo hoo, I do hope you misbehaved during my absence ... I rather fancy inflicting some sweet punishment."

he exhales a hooting chuckle, the discordant noise bearing a heavier trace of his feral form than usual, as does the drag of his talons on the marble floor as the shadows retreat behind his tall frame.

·.·★·.·´¯`·.·☾·.·´¯`·.·★·.·

[nincompoopydoo]

LOVE IS STRANGE

PAIRING: Poe Dameron x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k SUMMARY: The union of Ireca and Mohash may seem a typical cliche of love in comparison to your depressingly lonely state, but when a certain poster boy pilot emerges during the celebration, you wonder if love works in other underlying ways. A/N: I found this in my google docs, first written about a year ago. so, wohoo i present to you my first ever poe dameron content, i think? he's so charming and carelessly beautiful. please leave a comment and tell me what you think or what else you'll like to see from me 💖 gif by @john-seed from this gifst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, space swearing. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

Love is strange. Delicate yet fierce. So forceful that it manages to seep through the cracks created by bombs and gunfire of war. Unexpected at times, appearing out of nowhere. Yet, it’s beautiful because it brings those with beautiful hearts and minds together, entangled in the constant dance of intimacy and devotion.

It’s what Ireca and Mohash have.

Ireca was from the Logistic division, a mechanic herself and your colleague. She was to be married to her long-time lover, Mohash, a flight engineer for the Cobalt Squadron. As far as cliches go, wartime love falls along the lines of a romance cliche. Yet, war was all you’ve known. It’s what everyone has ever known. It’s common to develop some kind of a feeling other than the constant emotions during battle—fondness, the feeling of falling in love with someone. It’s truly what we stay alive for.

Maybe that’s why you hate it so much. The absence of the feeling that everyone describes as so fucking amazing that it completes you. You feel empty most of the time. It’s definitely the reason why you put all your effort into fixing things you can rather than complicated problems and issues that continue to reside in your mind, especially in the wake of midnight.

You find yourself sitting by the makeshift bar, tucked away from the crowd of friends and colleagues. There’s music playing, the sound of drums, and the seven-string hallikset reminds you of your brief visit to Naboo three cycles ago. You’re nursing a warm cup of something that tastes closer to acid water than alcohol.

Ireca emerges from the crowd with flowers in her braided hair. She approaches you with a bright smile and calls out your name wistfully. You shoot a strained smile her way, feeling the bags under your eyes weigh a little more. “What are you doing here all by yourself, huh?” she asks, leaning against the bar with a gentle pat on your shoulder.

“I’m just really tired. Last night was rough. Plus, I’m behind schedule.” you sighed heavily, running your fingers through your hair. She flashed you a smile of sympathy as you continued, “I’m sorry, Ireca. Don’t let me ruin your night. Go, have fun.”

She raises an eyebrow as you take another sip from your cup.

"Go. I'm sure you don't want to miss Mohash's special performance." You gesture to a drunk Mohash, who seemed to be searching for the woman. Ireca merely laughed. "Oh, it sure is going to be special." With a gentle touch to your back and wave, you watch her make her way into the swarm of bodies. You're left alone once again.

You’re still trying to figure out how Mohash even got hold of any sort of alcohol and managed to smuggle it into the base. Someone must have nicked it during one of the previous missions in the Mid Rim.

You rub your eyes, half-awake at this point; your cup is placed beside you as you rest your head against your folded arms on the table. Your mind is in a daze and incapable of irrational thought, deciding it would be best to just camp out here, by the makeshift bar, for the night. You were too tired to drag yourself all the way to your quarters, which felt like miles away, in the first place.

As sleep began to weigh heavy upon your eyelids, you suddenly felt a sharp tap on your shoulder. A soft groan escaped your lips as you shifted your head, still resting on your arms, just enough to peek at your sleep intruder.

It’s Poe Dameron. Commander and Black Leader. Incredibly talented, confident, and effortlessly handsome.

Ugh, you hate this guy.

Yet, you don’t feel so tired anymore.

“Are you drunk?” There’s amusement in his voice with a tinge of mockery. It made you realize the stun you were pulling. Classic Dameron. It was supposed to be a happy ceremony, but it was truly Ireca’s fault for manipulating you into coming tonight. Parties, events, and social gatherings were never right up your alley. You prefer spending time with machinery and your greasy hands.

Poe’s eyes are gleaming under the fluorescent lights, filled with concern, but you spot the smugness in his emerging smile. A flash of a thought, you kind of want to feel his lips on yours. The image immediately stings. You want to gag.

Poe is irritating, arrogant, and careless. Not charming. Nope, definitely not charming.

You straighten yourself, trying to shake off the burning image, shoving it to the back of your head. You lift your head, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on the heel of your hand. “You actually think I’ll even touch that bantha shit?”

Tearing your eyes away from Poe, you reach for your cup only to realize it was empty. He casts you a look. Your eyes shoot daggers with an extended pointer finger his way, “Don’t you dare say anything, flyboy.”

Poe raises his palms in defense, lips pursing. “Wasn’t going to.”

You catch a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, one hand discreetly reaching under his tawny leather jacket. Then, a bottle of Corellian whiskey emerges, shining under the lights of the Resistance hangar. Your face lights up at the recognition of the bottle, memories of your rare trips to Corellia, sharing whiskey drinks with your colleagues. It was the only planet you’d been to ever since you joined the Resistance.

You’ve only tasted Corellian whiskey once because of how expensive it is. You’ll happily get drunk to that in a heartbeat. Drink the worry and sorrow away with the lingering taste of frankly exorbitant whiskey.

Like a child with grabby hands, you reach for the bottle, but as your fingers brush his, Poe quickly lifts it to the air and away from you. He smacks your hand away. You whine, feeling a little lightheaded. The contents of the mysterious drink are starting to kick in.

What the blinkin' mradhe muck was in that drink?

“What do you want from me? It’s not like I have a drinking problem.”

He’s giving you that look like he’s judging you, but with a hint of amusement at the slight tug of the corner of his mouth. “You definitely have a drinking problem, but... i'll let you drink this on one condition.”

“For kriff’s sake,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, glancing away. “I’m not doing any weird wacky favors for you, Dameron.”

He scoffs, expression bewildered. “Hey, I don’t ask for weird wacky favors,” He articulates his words with a defensive tone, index finger stretched to your face. You simply smack it away as Poe clicks his tongue and continues to clarify his proposition. “All I’m asking is for you to fix my ship.”

Your wide-eyed gaze flies to him, shaking your head furiously. “Oh, no, no. No. Never in a million cycles. Never in a million millennials. Nuh-uh—”

“Hey, quit being dramatic. It’s a simple job.”

Your eyes grow even wider, voice raising. “A simple job? You fly that ship of yours like we have hundreds of spare ones. I’m not putting all my time and effort into fixing a lost cause.”

“But you haven’t even—”

“No. I’m not fixing your ship, and that’s final.”

Poe blinks and you’re back to fussing over your empty cup. The chatter of the crowd grows louder as a group of pilots of the Cobalt Squadron began rendering verses of an unknown traditional drinking song to your ears. You steal a look to only find Ireca and Mohash amidst a dance, tangled in each other's arms.

He eyes closely, noticing the turn of your lips, trained eyes deem melancholy. He knows the face of a loner very well—usually recruits with lost family and homes. They enlist in a mass community of freedom fighters for the restoration of good in the universe, and to finally feel a sense of familiarity and belonging. He doesn’t know much about you but he knows you don’t truly have anyone to depend on but yourself. It’s the reason why you’re constantly fierce.

Poe clears his throat, shifting closer to you as he watches the way you carry your gradual gaze to hold his. They then flit to the space between the two of you, raised eyebrows acknowledging the weird close proximity of his presence to yours.

“Look, you’re the best mechanic there ever was and probably ever will be. So, fix my ship, and you get to have this Corellian beauty. All of it.” He sways the bottle in the air, but you don’t look at it.

“You know, that’s bribery.”

“Yes, and it’s working.”

You scoff. “No, it isn’t.”

Poe laughs. “Yes, it is. I can see it in your eyes.”

Another scoff, you look fully aggravated. “How dense do you think I am?”

“Oh, very, but let’s not get into that.”

Bickering was the only language the two of you spoke fluently when you found yourselves tangled in a conversation with one another. Thrown insults were spoken lies—saying you hate each other when you know that isn’t true. Well, at least you don’t mean it and you hoped Poe didn’t either.

You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. For once, kindness and acceptance seem to be the easiest route.

A sigh passes your lips as you blink up to the ceiling, sending a silent prayer for blessings from the Maker above. “You’re right. I am dense. Truly dense. So, yeah. Okay. I’ll fix that stupid X-Wing of yours.”

Poe blinks, dumbfounded. “Wait, really?”

With a roll of your eyes, they meet his very own wide ones. “Yes, really. Only because you complimented me. Now, hand me that Corellian whiskey before I change my mind.”

He then makes a sound that resonates between a cough and a pleasantly surprised laugh, eyes crinkling with delight. Poe happily and absentmindedly passes the whiskey to you, still reacting like your agreement is some sort of object of ridicule in the best way possible.

“Wow—Maker, you have no idea what kind of trouble you’re saving me from. If the General ever found out—man, pfft. Thank you. Thank you so much—”

A swift and unexpected motion, he is reaching you, palms clasp and either side of your face, and plants a quick peck on the side of your left temple.

Poe isn’t thinking straight.

There you are, mid-swig, lips so close to the rim of the bottle with eyes so wide. You steal a steady glance at the pilot whose expression seems to reflect yours. His hands are still on your cheeks. He’s unbelievably close to you and he’s staring with that stupid look of his.

‘Maker, preserve me.’

A cheer erupts from the crowd from across the space and just like that, the moment is gone. Whatever the moment even was. His touch is no longer on yours and his gaze shifting away.

The tension, however, is still very present.

You finally take a swig of the whiskey, wanting to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. You hum at the stinging sensation on your tongue. You catch a glimpse of Poe from the corner of your eye who busies himself with tapping his fingers nervously against the surface of the bar.

Then, in an awkward motion, you stretch your arm to him, offering the drink.

A beat. His gaze shifts between you and your hand. When he finally gives in, a smile curves upon his lips, fingers brushing against yours. They’re delicate and you smile at him. It's small, but it makes his heart skip a beat and you wonder to yourself about the strangeness of love.

[recklessfiction]

The Monster in Love

Monstrous May Challenge Day 8

"You know, The Prism has been asking after you all night and here I find you, cowering."

That got Tasha's eyes snapping up into a glare, his hackles now generously raised. He stood up from where he was crouching on the ground, running an anxious hand through already unkempt hair.

"I am not cowering," he hissed, stepping further into the darkness of the room, "And who, might I ask, do I have to thank for informing our most noble host that I am here at all?"

"Oh, please. You act like you don't want it to come looking for you."

"May, I meant to be leaving tomorrow!"

“So then leave tomorrow.”

“You know that The Prism will make it difficult-”

“You mean you haven’t told it?”

May’s voice betrayed his disapproval, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t understand. The moment the topic of Tasha and the train was brought up in The Prism’s presence, it became clingy and absurd, reminding him of his place in the town, declaring that Tasha was integral, important, and desperately needed. And so what could he say to that?

He’d arrived in the town a simple shyster; a snake oil salesman looking for fast cash and a faster getaway. He hadn’t expected to spend almost half a year in and out of the house of a Noble Monstrosity, much less have that same high born grotesquerie start dogging his every step, trying to whisper sweet nothings in his ear each chance it got. It was more than he could handle; the fine clothes, the gifts, the adoring looks that he caught when it thought he wasn’t looking, and most of all, the expectation of more, of continuation and escalation.

He needed to go. He needed to pack as many of the valuables he had received into his suitcase and catch the next train out as far as it would take him. He was callus, he wasn’t something to be loved, he was a bitter memory, a regret, a fraud, a common thief, and he likedit that way.

Except-

“May, is that you? Have you found him?”

Except he found it infuriatingly hard to say no when it came to The Prism.

“Tasha, my darling, how wonderful. I’ve been searching all night for you, you fiend. How marvelous you look.”

Marvelous. It had the cheek to call him marvelous when it looked like that.

Tall in stature, towering really, immense with soft, blue, downy feathers from the waist up, a glorious headpiece fitted around four marble horns. It wore a mask, as all Noble Monstrosities must, gold adorned with pearls and deep blue ribbons, a delicately carved smile directed straight at him. It took a step forward and Tasha suddenly felt the weight of those eyes which peered out at him from behind the mask. Five in all, and each stubbornly fixed on him.

May’s voice cut through his reverie, bringing Tasha back to the situation at hand; the situation he really needed to get out of.

“I found him hiding in here all on his lonesome. Selfish boy, denying The Prism the delight of your company.”

“I’m afraid I agree with May,” The Prism said in its deep, rich voice, borrowed, no doubt, from the monks at the Abbey of Sainted Beast, “I can’t think why you would withdraw here when there is a perfectly splendid ball happening just out there.”

Another step and two of its arms unfolded from beneath its rich cloak, extending out to Tasha.

“I’ve missed you,” its voice now hushed, “You’ve stopped coming as often and when I go to the inn, they always tell me you’ve gone out. My god, Tasha, I had to formally summon you last time just so I could see you. Is something the matter? Has something happened?”

The Prism had taken up his hands in its own, unfurling the rest to settle on his waist, tugging at him just slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Tasha watched May slip out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he went. Now alone, the two stood, panic flowing steadily through Tasha as The Prism looked on with eyes that burned and wanted.

There’s no way out of it, Tasha thought to himself, and so he straightened, settling his face into an expression of dignified remorse.

“The train is coming tomorrow.”

Even with the mask covering the entirety of what Tasha assumed to be its face, he could see how The Prism deflated, felt how anxiously its hands moved to his face, its claws cutting his cheeks in its rush to hold him.

“Tasha,” its voice was accusatory, as if scolding him for even speaking the words, “No Tasha, you said you would stay. You must stay.”

“I’ve stayed as long as I can,” he argued, jutting his chin out boldly, “I was not meant to be here this long but I’ve stayed each time you’ve asked me to. Now I must go.”

“Why? What must you do out there that you cannot do here?”

Its voice was hard, petulant, and the other arms tightened on him, jewelled and finely painted claws digging into his hips and enfolding Tasha deeper in the embrace of The Prism.

“Work,” he asserted, “I worked before I came to this town and I will work after I have left it.”

The Prism scoffed, its eyes darkening as it fixed him with what he could only imagine was a glare.

“You can work here. You can stay and help me with my research, or continue to develop your tinctures.”

Ah, yes his ‘tinctures.’ With The Prism’s knowledge of medicine, it was a miracle he hadn’t been found out yet. He thanked the powers that be that the Noble Monstrosity was so…eagerly distractible.

“You know I can’t.”

“Then wait for me.”

“…What?”

Slowly and with great care, The Prism rested its forehead against Tasha’s own, the mask cold against his skin and its eyes, ardent and pleading.

“In a few months I will have completed my research. I can leave the manor in May’s care until we return. We will go together.”

Tasha could always tell when The Prism smiled because its eyes would begin to twinkle and its voice would soften, so much so, that he would feel the entire world melt away with only The Prism’s sweet voice remaining.

“I’ve never been anywhere farther than the city. I’m sure there will be something out there that will keep my interest whilst you…work.”

The last word was spoken in the same playful tone The Prism always used when it was flirting with Tasha and, as always, it made his heart skip a beat. A claw moved beneath his eye, over his eyelashes and, as he blinked, it brushed over his eyelid. Gentle, always so gentle.

“Please, Tasha. Stay and wait for me. I shan’t be long.”

A gasp of breath as a large hand came to cover his eyes. The sound of the mask being lifted, the desperate whisperings of shadows, followed by the slow, earnest press of lips against his own. A voice, oh how he lamented the day he first heard that voice, whispering against him.

“Please.”

And he whispered back,

“Alright.”

A laugh; surprised, overjoyed. Another string of kisses, each expressing an enthused gratitude, each more passionate, hungrier, fevered, each kiss lasting longer and longer, now that they had the time.

He would leave at midnight.

His feet left the ground as The Prism spun him in the air, his lips having moved to Tasha’s throat, its hand never leaving his eyes.

He would excuse himself under the pretext of being completely overcome with emotion and race back to his room at the inn.

“My darling,” the words pressed against his skin, “my darling.”

He would go under the cover of night, no one would be out; everyone was here at the ball anyway. He would wait at the station until morning and catch the first one out of town.

The hand moved away from his eyes and Tasha was met with the pleasantly smiling face of The Prism’s mask, perfectly in its place.

By the time anyone noticed his absence, he would be far, far away from the consequences.

“Come with me,” it said, its voice so charmingly conspiratorial that Tasha’s breath caught for a moment, “I have yet to share a dance with you tonight.”

“I’m sorry.”

The Prism paused, its hands tight around his own. Tasha looked up, a smile curling up his lips, bright, wide, and very fake.

“I find myself…rather overcome. I’m afraid I must excuse myself for tonight. I had not expected-”

“Of course, my darling, of course,” The Prism pressed a hand to his cheek and let its forehead fall against his own again, “I shall send for the carriage.”

“No, I would very much like to walk.”

Its eyes softened fondly beneath its mask as it brushed his hair back with another hand.

“Very well, but I shall call on you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Tasha said through his smile, “In the evening. I have business during the day but shall return promptly.”

Another train didn’t come through for a fortnight.

“Alright, tomorrow evening. It would be simpler, you know, for you to do your business from the manor. We certainly have the room and…I confess I would like you to stay.”

And therein laid the problem.

“A discussion, I think, for another time,” Tasha’s smile settled into something playful and easier to keep up.

The Prism brushed a hair from his face.

“Goodnight, beloved.”

A breath, almost gasped, almost suspicious, swallowed and replaced with a smile.

“Goodbye.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 7: Free Day / AUs - Lies

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Awkward “family” dinner time~

jnjadaafiabasd I was not built to do timed prompts... Everything felt rushed or not fully proofread, but I tried my best with what little time I had! 🎉 This last week was a bit of a struggle, but I’m proud of myself for pulling through in the end!

A flurry of footsteps reverberated through the Crowley household. Raven hurtled down a stairwell and practically threw herself at the front door, flinging it open. Beyond the door, a masked man and his suitcases awaited.

“Uncle!! You’re back!!” she cried breathily—tired from the dash from the attic to the front porch.

“Hohoh.” Crowley lowered the golden key in his hand. “You’ve beaten me to the punch, it seems.”

“It helps when I’ve got a big window to spy from.” Raven grimaced as talons wove themselves into her hair and raked along her scalp. Her head was left a mess, hair sticking up at odd angles. “How was your trip?”

“There will be plenty of time for stories—you do so love those, don’t you? Just give me a moment to get settled back and have a bite first, little black bird.”

“Okay!” Raven chirped. She eagerly reached for a suitcase. “Here, I’ll he—”

“Please, allow me.”

Her fingers met only air, for the suitcase was snatched up before she could make contact. The other was claimed just as quickly, ending up in the hands of a slimy, smiling eel.

“... Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster.” Jade lowered his head in mock deference. “It is a pleasure to have you back with us. I do hope your conference fared well.”

Crowley’s mouth tightened into a straight line. “You’ll not hear a single peep from me!”

“My, my. You’ve entrusted me with handling your home and your niece in your absence, but not with casual conversation? Truly, I am hurt.”

(Raven shot Jade a warning look, but it went ignored.)

“Leave my bags, and leave us be. Your services are no longer required,” the headmaster crowed. He dug into his pockets and produced a (wrinkled) checkbook and gold-plated fountain pen. “Name your price.”

“I believe that is a value that would be best negotiated with Azul—but worry not, I am not personally interested in your madol.”

... That’s obviously a sketchy thing to say, especially for Octavinelle. They always collect what they’re owed, Raven noted. What does he have up his sleeve now?

Jade’s shoulders suddenly sagged, and a sad smile made its way onto his face. “It is a shame, though... to be chased out before I was able to share my cooking with our esteemed headmaster. It brings a tear to my eye.”

Crowley’s ears perked up—while Raven’s stomach sank.

“Cooking, you say?”

“U-Uncle, don’t fall for it...! He’s baiting you!!” Raven hissed, tugging harshly on his cape.

“I had plans to prepare an extravagant feast, too,” Jade continued, “to welcome you home. A hearty wild game stew, garnished with garden herbs. Fresh baked bread, with a thick crust, perfect for mopping up excess stew. Braised duck in a bright citrus sauce, so succulent and tender that the meat falls off at the bone. Mint gelée on the side—”

“I’m listening...” Crowley’s beady eyes narrowed with vague suspicion. “And just how much would this hypothetical feast cost me?”

“Don’t listen to him, Uncle!!”

“Fufu. There is no need to concern yourself with such trivial matters. Consider it a gift from myself to you.”

“UNCLE!!” Raven screeched—but her frantic calls no longer reached him.

The headmaster was far gone, lured to the water’s edge by a siren’s song. Plastering a wide grin on his face, Crowley spread his arms.

“Jade Leech-kun, why don’t you join us for dinner?”

Raven slowly lowered her face into her hands.

To her left was Jade, and to her right was Crowley. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

Raven glared into her platter of food, refusing to look at either of them. She poked at a slab of meat with her fork, watching the shine of fat dance. Did that glisten belong to a tasteless poison, or to a savory glaze?

Well, the other meals he prepared were safe. This should be fine too... right? Raven carefully inserted a corner into her mouth and tore off a chunk.

Crowley let out a delighted laugh from his seat. “Delicious! Simply delicious!! You’ve outdone yourself with this meal.”

“I am glad to hear that you enjoy it, headmaster.” Jade was handling his silverware a little too deftly for Raven’s liking, driving a knife into his steak with the skill and precision of a predator digging its teeth into vital arteries. And still, that polite smile remained.

She stared—and it did not go unnoticed.

While the headmaster continued to gush, Jade lifted his eyes to meet Raven’s. His smile turned decidedly less kind for a few moments, taunting her. How easily he had infiltrated the home and gotten her guardian wrapped around his finger. It was maddening.

“Miss Raven, you haven’t touched your food,” Jade pointed out.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I am merely advising that you look after your own health and wellbeing,” Jade insisted. “And to think you were so eager to consume my cooking when it was just the two of us...”

“Sh-Shut up...!! I... I can’t help that I’m not used to unwanted guests at the table!”

“Now, now, Raven-kun!” Crowley waved his fork at his niece. “Jade Leech-kun has provided a number of useful services during my absence. We should be more grateful to to have such a helpful young man with us!”

“Do I need to remind you that this same ‘helpful’ young man also ‘helped’ Azul enslave over 200 students?”

“That was then, this is now!”

... You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Yes, I do believe the headmaster is correct. Let us leave the past in the past.”

“As soon as you leave, I’ll gladly purge the events of last week from my mind.” Raven turned to Crowley. “Uncle! I’m no longer a child. The next time you need to leave, you needn’t call for a babysitter—I can take care of myself!”

“Hmm...” The headmaster glanced helplessly between his half-eaten dinner and his niece’s pleasing eyes. “We shall see what comes, given the circumstances.”

Raven sighed—still not fully satisfied with the answer, but unable to wean anything better out of him.

She jabbed her fork into a cherry tomato and chomped down hard on it. Her fangs pierced the red skin, sending some juice squirting onto her cheek. Raven wiped at it with a napkin, then continued to angrily munch on the tomato to vent her frustration.

The clinking of silverware filled the dining room. The air, stiff as stale bread. Crowley coughed—attempting to alleviate the tense atmosphere, but to little success.

“So,” the headmaster began, “did anything interesting happen while I was at the conference?”

“... We argued a lot,” Raven replied flatly. She tactfully left out several details, knowing that she would turn as red as the cherry tomato if she elaborated.

“I did learn quite a few interesting facts during my stay.”

Crowley glanced up from his plate, arching an eyebrow at the eel. “Such as...?”

“Oh, a great many things. For example, how a glittering object catches Miss Raven’s eye, the messiness of her quarters, her midnight musings, the odd manner in which she sleeps...”

Crowley (who had been peacefully inhaling his dinner up until that point) almost choked on a piece of bread. “E-EXCUSE ME?! I don’t recall granting you permission to enter the attic—”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Raven’s brows furrowed. “Then why...”

... Oh.

Another lie.

All along, it had been a lie.

Crowley’s panic, Raven’s confusion—neither seemed to faze Jade. He simply smiled, as collected as ever. Like he had planned this all along, she realized.

“I’m afraid that Miss Raven allowed me in of her own accord. Fufu. I am pleased that she has grown to trust my presence within her private quarters.”

“Is this true, Raven-kun?!”

“Er...” She shrunk back into her seat, wishing she could vanish into her feathered shawl. “I-It was an honest mistake... I didn’t mean to...”

“You know better than that, young lady!!” Crowley chided. “How many times must I warn you to keep shady characters out of your room?!”

“But Jade said--”

“Headmaster, you cannot blame her entirely,” the eel cut in smoothly. “Part of the fault lies with me, as well.”

He’s... confessing? That’s weird.

“I had to deliver her meal, since she refused to eat at the dining room table. Once I saw the state that the attic was in, I sought to return in the subsequent days to assist with cleaning it up. There were also times when I came to check in on Miss Raven, as she has a habit of staying up late into the night. They were all measures I took to ensure her health and comfort, at the cost of breaking a rule--and for that, I must apologize.”

“Oh?” Crowley rested his chin in a taloned hand. “Rule breaking aside, I must commend you for taking action. Putting others’ wellbeing above your own... Perhaps I initially misjudged your character, Jade Leech-kun!”

“I live to serve.”

“How very admirable of you! Yes, yes,” Crowley nodded enthusiastically, “I can rely on such a responsible youth to look after you in the future, Raven-kun!”

“H-Huh? No, no!! He’s definitely still every bit as shady as you thought he was!!” she protested, leaping to her feet and thrusting an accusing finger at Jade. “He’s just lying again...!! He always lies!!”

“Oya, Miss Raven... It’s not healthy for you to become so worked up.” Jade hid his mouth behind his hand--no doubt that his teeth would otherwise be on full display in a cruel grin. “Here, have some more mashed potatoes--I’ve infused them with garlic. This should help temper your blood pressure.”

“I don’t want your stupid mashed potatoes...!!”

Oblivious to the tension in the room, Crowley lifted his glass up and laughed. “Hohoh! It’s nice to see Raven-kun socializing with her peers.”

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Begrudging Allies (Aaron Hotchner x Trans!Male!Reader)

Summary: Aaron and Y/N's marriage is suitable enough, given that Aaron secretly loves men and Y/N secretly is a man. When the one year anniversary of their amicable nuptials brings forth correspondence from their estranged families, Aaron takes the opportunity to potentially make something more out of their arrangement.

AN: This is one of my entries to the "Enemies 2 Lovers" challenge set by @imagining-in-the-margins​ on Tumblr!

Reader is trans male and uses he/him pronouns. 

WC: 2.4k words

Content Warning: References to era appropriate homophobia/transphobia but nothing actually mentioned. Two dumb fucking gay men trying to flirt.

Photo Credit // Masterlist // AO3

Your name: submit What is this?

Aaron Hotchner and Y/N L/N were served breakfast together every day they were in the house together. They sat not at opposite ends, but the seat left adjacent to them. That way, they did not have to look at each other whilst they ate. Breakfast was the only meal with which they shared each other’s company. Why make it unbearable first thing in the morning? They read the morning paper - and any post - while eating. Only the scrape of their plates and muted chewing was to be heard before the chairs scraped across the floorboards and both men departed.

Today they both received a note from the L/N household back in their old country.

“I assume your letter reads the same as mine,” Y/N dropped his beside his plate before pushing it further away.

Hotchner raised his eye from the headline that had been mildly entertaining him, “It does.”

In cursive flicks, the usual complaints of their emigration had reached his eyes not moments prior. The closing of his family’s letter however broached a new request: a photograph of the happy couple on their first wedding anniversary, specifically a recreation. The ungrateful bunch, the only remaining wedding photographs of the wedding were in their hands.

“I don’t have the dress,” Y/N scoffed and looked aside. Even from this end of the table, Aaron could see that he was trying to mask his tears from the dawn. The wedding day was the culmination of their greatest shames.

At least Aaron had tried to make the best of it, but there was no relief for Y/N until they were in their separate chambers and free from all betrothment attire.

“Suppose we should arrange for a fitting. Though how we’re going to do that without arousing any suspicion here is beyond me.” “Perhaps we can go north, find a seamstress and a wigmaker there.”

Aaron did not patronise Y/N by pretending he understood his plight. He himself had never pictured himself with a wife; worse was that Y/N had never pictured himself to be a wife.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to remain a woman?” He had said after Y/N had confessed during their third arranged rendezvous.

With venom spitting from each syllable, Y/N’s reply was one that he remembered vividly: “I was never a woman to start with.”

They were not friends, they barely spoke, but the enemy of the enemy is a friend. This sentiment made Y/N a begrudging ally.

However it did not make the occasions they had to pretend to be a happily wedded couple any simpler. Y/N did look most becoming in white, but Aaron knew that there was no worse day for Y/N than that day in the church. Any reminder was like a stake through the heart.

“I’ll arrange for the fitting,” Aaron quietly volunteered.

Y/N was quick with a brusque reply, “I can organise my own affairs.”

“Of course, but perhaps it would lighten your load if I took on those responsibilities.” Aaron paused as Y/N pushed aside his breakfast plate, his eggs now making his stomach turn. He used his newspaper as a shield, “And as your husband, I give you permission to dress how you please.”

Y/N blinked then nodded. He did not ever say thank you. That was his problem, Y/N, too proud. Too nervous to admit that he had been graciously allowed to exist like this because of his marriage to Aaron. As if that was ever any part of their agreement, both of them had blackmail worthy material. Y/N just seemed to forget that, or at least he was not the type of individual to dangle Aaron’s secrets before him like a carrot on a stick. Why Y/N thought that Aaron was that type though, he had some idea.

“A member of the bar?” was the response Aaron got from Y/N, disgust thinly veiled, upon their first chaperoned walk through the L/N estate. It must have seemed contradictory later down the line, to be a protector of the laws that criminalised his very own existence. It was not as uncommon as Y/N believed however, and there were much worse laws to break between trials than being attracted to men.

A man of his word, Aaron prepared for a fitting in the comfort of their own home. A friend of theirs was a tailor; accommodations were no economic issue. Of course, this friend did not know either of their secrets, but other than that, he was a companion who would be greeted warmly into their home.

Y/N watched the tailor from the chaise whilst pretending to be interested in a book. His eye would raise itself to see each adjustment made to Aaron’s wedding suit, which he had surprisingly kept – folded in a box at the farthest corner of the house. Then Y/N would go back to the page and reread the top few lines. Every time, Aaron would pretend not to notice. But the jiggle of Y/N’s knee, the absence of progression through the book’s narrative, taught him that Y/N was anticipating this fitting with something more positive than last time.

“All done, thank you, Aaron!” “Y/N, your turn.”

His book snapped shut and Y/N stepped up to the podium. Aaron swapped places with him without acting out the role of an aloof reader. As expected his expression was well disguised as neutral, but Aaron’s practice in law gifted him with a pair of spectacles into the soul. Y/N’s glee of the tape measure taking in his proportions was masked so that only his eyes smiled. Once or twice, the corner of his mouth ticked up, only to iron its creases out when the tailor moved into his eyeline. When asked what colour he would consider, Y/N mulled deliciously his options before selecting a gentle blue. His fingers were cautious but as soon as they touched the royal fabric offered, they fanned out and welcomed it for his new suit.

From the moment they broke apart, his hands were restless. Ticking against his teacup or tapping against his legs were two of their new favourite hobbies. Even when the suit arrived, Y/N could not keep himself still. His beautiful face was scrunched up in the mirror as he attempted for a third time to make the right knot in his cravat. The photographer was waiting for them downstairs.

Aaron sighed and knocked one knuckle to the door, “Allow me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes, “I can do it myself.”

“I know. But this knot will look better.”

Their eyes locked in the mirror, before Y/N turned around and released his tie. His chin pointed parallel to the carpet. His neck was still so as not to drop the breath he was holding. Aaron flicked with the tip of the cravat as his hands slotted it through, his focus on the column of Y/N’s throat, because meeting his gaze now was an impossible feat. They were too close for that. He bent the stalks of his collar into place then stepped back as if to admire his handiwork. But that was not at all what he really regarded.

He cleared his throat, “There.”

As Aaron removed his hands, Y/N spun to face his reflection head on. “Adequate. You’ll have to teach me that one.”

Finally, they greeted their photographer, who had set up his camera in their garden. It was a lovely day, not to be wasted inside. At least that’s what the photographer said as he unceremoniously ushered them into place and posed them to his liking. There was no instruction for how to position their faces so Aaron kept his the same as their original wedding portrait.

His plan for relaxed facial features hit a bump in the road. As the photographer ducked beneath his sheet, Y/N snorted. His hand was quick to follow and it clapped over his mouth. The photographer emerged with concerned curiosity. A strand of his combover was standing on end.

“My apologies, there was a tickle in my throat.” He pressed his lips together and ducked his head, his feet scuffing one inch’s worth of dirt before he regained composure.

The photographer tried again. Aaron could see, in the corner of his eye, that Y/N’s corners of his mouth weighed down to prevent a break but it was unsuccessful.

“Do forgive me,” He said, his voice quivering, “I remembered a jest from last week. It isn’t even worth the laughter it brings.”

Despite his detractions, Y/N kept guffawing to himself as the photographer kept dodging about his cloth and camera. It spilled from between his pressed lips like an overflowing goblet. Aaron had not heard such delight before. He would describe it as infectious if the joy in Y/N’s notes was comparable to a plague. No, this was intoxicating, a mead he would heartily drink until he too was giddy on the stuff. Y/N, clutching Aaron’s arm to stay standing, almost stumbled as Aaron bent over with equally bashful laughter.

“It would possibly suit you better if you sat,” said the photographer through a faux smile. He then ushered over to one of the benches, the one amidst the tulips, before he wrangled with his camera after them.

Seated on the cool marble, Aaron kept a few inches between himself and Y/N. Their hands took that space but waited to hold hands. Y/N was still shaking but his smile was minute now, replaced by mild embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that funny,” He said. But there was a twitch in his voice, a breath that indicated otherwise.

“No, not at all,” whispered Aaron, his head tilted against the invisible line between them.

Y/N turned, his nose pushing their boundary and almost brushing against Aaron’s cheek when he too turned to face him.

“At long last, we agree.”

Y/N’s lips betrayed him again. A bubble of laughter popped between them, letting out the smallest of smiles. Yet it shone through with such luminosity that it almost outdid the flash of the bulb as their photograph was taken. There was delight at the absence of the melancholy pose that a long exposure wedding portrait promised. Oh, the wonders of new technology.

As was with his new suit, Y/N practically waited by the door for the photographs. His hands were beyond ravenous for them by the time they arrived. They snatched at the envelope and tore with as much care as he could muster, his voice catching in the roof of his mouth as he called for Aaron.

On the chaise together, their knees were brought in close to rest the papers upon. Their faces looked as though they were carved into the paper with charcoal, smudged by an artist’s thumb. That radiant smile among it all was the centre of the photograph. Aaron noted the distance between them was mirrored in their past selves as they sifted through their options.

Then Y/N held aloft the ones for their respective families, “Sit with me while I pen the reply.”

Aaron was not usually welcome in Y/N’s study. Yet, as he pulled up a walnut wood chair with red velvet seat beside the bureau, behind Y/N’s matching one, he felt like he was in place. With anticipation, he watched the most passive aggressive comments that had ever been put to paper. All bar one was spun from Y/N’s inspiration. Aaron had but one to add and it took some convincing for Y/N to put it in his family’s correspondence – he was writing since his writing was far neater. Even so, there were a few loops of the ��l’s that slanted when Y/N was particularly amused by something that Aaron had commented on.

“There,” Y/N said as he closed the second of two envelopes with crimson wax. As he lifted the seal, he spoke quieter, “Just a thought, nothing more, but I almost wish I could see their faces. Only the first second though.” The seal was placed in his drawer and the letters were left in the centre of the desk while one remaining photograph was selected by Y/N, “I want to keep this. In the drawing room.”

Aaron’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead, “You do?”

Y/N nodded once with finality, his broad smile returning, “It’s the first time I was myself in a long time, the best I’ve ever looked! Besides, I am your husband and I say it will stand above the fireplace by the end of the week – once I find a suitable frame.”

He held it up, squinting to imagine what frame might work best with the décor. His chair itching to be closer, Hotch leant over and cupped his hand over Y/N’s so that he could see the photograph too. It stayed there, and perhaps it was his imagination, but Hotchner could have sworn that Y/N’s back slacked and swayed to the right an inch, almost resting against his shoulder beside Aaron’s.

Y/N’s quiet voice was back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You do not have to say thank you.”

“When are you going to stop telling me what to do?”

There was no accusation in it; it was asked as simply as one would ask for another napkin. But Aaron did not quite know how to answer.

“I don’t mean to come across as a drill sergeant,” He said softly.

“Aaron,” Y/N lowered their hands but kept them together beside his lap, “You don’t have to worry about me and what I’m going to do, just like I don’t have to worry about you.”

And what Aaron thought about being ignorant of an answer before, that became a lie. Aaron wanted to worry about Y/N, and he did worry. Not for himself or his identity being exposed, but because he did care for his husband. He didn’t want to worry or have Y/N be worried about control in their home. They should exist as equals, not in blackmail but in respect. Maybe one day, in love.

Aaron settled instead for: “My apologies. And I thank you too. It was the first time I was myself as well.”

Y/N blinked, then avoided his stare. It was a revelation therefore when he laced his fingers with Aaron’s for the briefest of squeeze and replied, “No thanks necessary. It was my pleasure.”

Then the bell tinkled for breakfast and the two men were up on their feet. Y/N was in the dining room first. He sat two away from the head of the table this time. With enough care to drag his chair loudly across the floor, Aaron mirrored that seating, dragging his cutlery and crockery into place. As they were served, Y/N swiped the newspaper before his husband could with a smirk hidden behind the pages. Hotchner poured his coffee and smiled into the brew. He was, for once, thoroughly glad that they had breakfast together.

----> ----> ----> ----> ---->

Tagging

Aaron Hotchner fics: @averyhotchner​

[alj4890]

And Then I Left You

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a "what if" version to the RCD/TRR fan fic And Then I Met You Series

A/N This was one chapter that I couldn’t find a way to divide up. It’s a tad long, but let’s just say that what we have been waiting on finally happens.

@krsnlove @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo​  @trappedinfanfiction @everythingmarvelsherlockspn  @sophxwithers @kate-mckenzie @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

Chapter 6 The Chase is On

Cordonia, The Royal Palace...

Glancing at his door, Drake set his coffee cup down to see who was knocking in a persistent and irritating manner.

"Hey. Where'd you disappear to last night?"

"What were you doing with Thomas Hunt?!" Amanda stormed into his chambers and shut the door. "I thought you were my friend!"

Drake rolled his eyes. "I see you're in your usual, reasonable state of mind."

"Just answer me this." She took a deep breath to try to remain calm. "Are you on my side?"

"Come on, Amanda." He muttered. "Of course I am. That's why Hunt is--"

"I don't want to hear anything about him!" She snapped. "I don't care why Thomas is here." Her eyes narrowed on Drake. "I simply want to know that I can still depend on you to help me if I need it."

He folded his arms. "I'm trying to help. If you would just--"

"That's all I needed to hear." She twirled around and quickly left his room.

Dropping his head back, Drake groaned in frustration. He then searched for his phone to send a group text to Thomas, Liam, and Maxwell.

Drake: A's been by showing that she's just as stubborn as before.

Liam: I will have a talk with her. She can't ignore me during this social season.

Maxwell: 😬 Is this the same A we grew up with? She ALWAYS finds a way to wiggle out of stuff she doesn't really want to face.

Thomas: I think my only chance is to irritate her into finally speaking to me.

Drake: Maybe you can corner her at the derby.

***************

The Derby...

"Now remember, you have to remain pleasant whenever they bring Thomas up." Nadia whispered.

Amanda grit her teeth. "I can fake it for a few minutes."

"That a girl." Olivia encouraged her as she stepped up to talk to the reporters.

"Your grace!" Ana smiled warmly. "Welcome home."

Amanda's answering smile was more natural at that opening to her interview. 

"Thank you." Her eyes lifted to the crowd of people milling about the track. "I didn't realize how much I missed Cordonia until I came back after such a long absence."

"It must have been a surprise to come home and discover that you are to take part as one of Prince Liam's suitors."

"Quite." Amanda shrugged with a smile. "I know though that his royal highness will choose a lady that will make all of Cordonia proud."

"How do you rate your chances?" Ana continued. "Given your closeness over the years, do you think you have a better one than the other suitors?"

"Not at all." Amanda gripped her hands together. "I believe that Prince Liam will give every lady a fair chance to see if they are meant to be his future queen."

Ana's attention drifted over Amanda's shoulder. "There you are!" She motioned for Thomas to come forward. "Perfect timing. I was about to ask how things are going with The Earl's Undoing."

The duchess stiffened when he stepped up next to her and set his arm around her waist.

"Everything is moving along as expected. Our only hiccup is Ryan's need to extend a promotional tour of his last film." Thomas turned toward Amanda. "Lucky for me, her grace has been so understanding."

Amanda felt her cheeks heat up with color. "I'm certain anyone would understand a need to wait on one of their leading actors."

"You'd be surprised how many refuse to hear the real reasons behind delays."

Against her better judgement she lifted her eyes to his.

An apologetic smile formed on his lips. He kept his gaze on her face as he spoke. "I intend on making it up to her grace once everything is ready to begin."

Amanda's eyes narrowed more in confusion than anger. She didn't know what to think about that or any of what he was hinting at. Her curiosity was starting to override her furious pride.

"Does this mean you might have to push back its release date?" Ana asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Possibly. We will know more once filming begins." He explained.

"Speaking of dates, I noticed that both you and Simone Carmichael just so happen to be here at the same time." Ana grinned at him. "Are you spending these next few weeks with her?"

Thomas had to grip down hard on Amanda's waist to keep her from walking off.

She had lowered her head so that her large sun hat hid her annoyance. He still caught the brief twist of disgust on her lips.

"No. I had no idea Simone was coming here." He bit down on his tongue when he felt Amanda pinch his hand. "From what I gathered, she came here strictly to do a photoshoot for you."

Ana chuckled. "Well, that and I might have hoped once I knew you were here too to help romance along."

"Forgive me." Amanda said sweetly. "But I must join the other suitors."

"There isn't anything to help along with Simone." Thomas gripped a handful of material at the back of Amanda's dress to keep her in place. "I wish her nothing but luck in her career and personal endeavors."

Ana didn't bother to hide her disappointment. Her eyes then lit up when she focused once more on Amanda. "Your grace? You know Thomas well. Which of his recent dates do you think was the most successful?"

Amanda could feel Thomas stiffening next to her. One quick peek revealed his frown firming while he waited to hear how she would respond.

Unable to believe her luck, or rather lack thereof when it came to her own personal romances, a laugh escaped her lips.

Thomas nearly cringed from the sharp, bitter edge he and those who knew her well could only detect in what was usually a warm, carefree sound.

"I wouldn't dare to presume Thomas's heart." She made a show of checking her watch. "I really must be on my way."

"Thank you, your grace." Ana added. "And Thomas," she winked at him, "I'll be watching you and those who visit Cordonia."

"Let. Go. Of. Me." Amanda hissed once they were well past the press.

"I need to speak to you." He insisted.

"You're ruining my dress!" She whispered harshly. "If you let go of me then I will listen."

She couldn't believe he actually believed her lie. Once his fingers eased, she made a mad dash through an opening in the crowd.

"Amanda!" He tried to keep an eye on her as he was forced to pause here and there to keep from mowing people down in his pursuit.

The last glimpse he caught was seeing his escaped lady ducking into the suitors' tent.

*******************

"Riley got into Liam's tent safely." Maxwell whispered. "Operation Big Apple is officially a go."

Nadia giggled. "Good. I hope we can find them a lot of special alone time. It's going to seem so weird to Riley being basically courted like a contestant on a reality show." Her nose wrinkled. "It's a shame they never got to go on real dates before all this."

"It will work out." Maxwell told her. "We'll--" he saw the one who really needed help and waved. "Thomas! Up here!"

"What are you doing?" Nadia didn't bother to whisper. "He's the enemy of our friend!"

"Babe, he's so not the enemy." Maxwell grinned at her anger mounting. "If you would hear him out, you'd know just how bad he has it for our friend."

Nadia hmphed as she watched the still an enemy in her eyes climb the stairs of the section they were seated in.

"How'd it go?" Maxwell asked.

"I was making some headway until Ana brought up Simone being here." Thomas sat down next to them. "Then she escaped before I could get a word of explanation out."

Nadia's delighted smile held a hint of evil.

Maxwell shook his head in exasperation over the two women he knew and loved. "Will you tell my wife," he whispered, "without mentioning a certain someone's name, why you went on those dates?"

Thomas eyed him then frowned at Nadia. He tried not to think too much about how he must be desperate to continually open up to these people who were practically strangers. He had a hard enough time doing so with his own friends. Accepting help from Amanda's had to mean that even he was unaware how much he must love this woman who refused to be near him. 

"I wanted to make certain it was her I wanted instead of just someone."

Nadia's brow furrowed. "You didn't know?"

"I did to some extent. But before I took a chance on ruining our friendship, I wanted to make certain."

"And every one of his dates was a bust." Maxwell added. "Nobody could measure up to our Aman--her."

Nadia looked back and forth between the two. "Oh. Then why did you come early?" 

 Thomas glanced around to make certain no one was listening. "I was asked by someone how I felt about her."

"Key component of operation Big Apple." Maxwell added.

Thomas merely quirked an eyebrow at that cryptic statement before leaning closer. "I told him I am in love with her and he planned on me being here for all this," he gestured around, "so that I could be with her in secret." His eyes flickered to the suitors' tent . "But she won't allow me to tell her how in love with her I am."

Nadia remained silent after his heartfelt confession. Maxwell shared a concerned glance with Thomas at his wife’s unusual reaction to something that would normally make her squeal with fluffy feelings.

"That is the most romantic thing I've ever heard!" Nadia clapped her hands over her mouth.

"And we have one more for team Thomas." Maxwell announced with glee.

******************

The Royal Palace grounds...

Thomas stood off to the side with Drake, Maxwell, and Nadia as the ladies of the court lined up to greet the queen. He scanned the overly eager smiles and excited whispers of many of the young women hoping to catch Liam's eye. A slight smirk formed as he noticed just how uninterested Amanda seemed with it all.

Her facial expression was one of calm neutrality. She didn't gush when Liam walked by, merely curtsied and bowed her head. A genuine smile flashed across her lips when he paused to say hello. Other than that, she might as well have been standing in line for some mundane task.

Once the queen and Liam chose their partners for the croquet game, she and the remaining ladies were forced to follow along and clap politely for them. Thomas caught a few of her eye rolls each time someone complimented the prince on his amazing form with the use of a croquet mallet.

"Things must have gone well in the tent." Nadia whispered. "Look how happy Liam and Riley are together."

"I knew it would." Maxwell boasted. He then noticed Amanda trying to peek over towards them instead of focusing on the game.

Her hat helped shade her eyes as she ever so often turned to look at Thomas. The slight tightening along her lips was the only indication that she didn't understand why those closest to her were hanging out with him.

Thomas noticed and met her gaze with his own questioning glance. Her body stiffened in response before turning her attention back to a game she had always found immensely boring.

"Wow." Drake whispered. "I'm impressed. I've never known a simple look could irritate her that much."

"Will there be mingling anytime soon?" Thomas asked.

"Once all the fawning is done, we'll be able to eat and mingle." Maxwell explained.

"Good." Nadia placed a hand on her stomach when it gurgled. "I hope it's soon."

It wasn't long before Liam and Riley won, causing many to surround him to offer their congratulations.

Drake snorted. "With how they're acting you'd think he just became some conquering hero of a war or something."

Thomas had lost sight of Amanda when the crowd of ladies surged. As Liam politely excused himself, while holding fast to Riley's hand, he managed to get through and find an empty table.

"We better join him before he's surrounded again." Maxwell tugged Nadia along with him.

"You coming?" Drake asked when he noticed Thomas's hesitation.

"I was trying to see where Amanda went." His eyebrows lifted when he noticed her talking to the queen and pointing directly at him.

Her smile was a bit unnerving with the smug triumphant he could so easily see.

Much to his surprise, she began to walk over with the queen just a step ahead of her.

"Your majesty," she said sweetly, "allow me to introduce Mr. Thomas Hunt."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hunt." Regina greeted him. "Her grace tells me you have quite the interest in Cordonian history."

Thomas blinked. The only history he knew had been interested in was whatever took place in  Amanda’s book. "Er, yes. After reading Amanda's story, I have wanted to see the fields and buildings where it all took place."

Regina smiled in approval. "Then I am most happy to be your first guide."

"My first what?" His brow furrowed.

Amanda laughed softly. "You are a lucky man, Thomas." Her eyes sparkled with imminent victory. "Queen Regina knows every historical happening that occurred on the palace grounds."

"You flatter me, your grace." Regina fondly replied. "Now go and participate with Liam and the others. I will make sure your Mr. Hunt is taken care of."

"You don't need to--"

Amanda curtsied and interrupted his attempt to get out of this. "You are too kind, mam." Her smile grew at Thomas's shock. "And don't believe a word Mr. Hunt says about not wanting this tour. He is afraid of irritating people with his need for extensive detail."

His eyes narrowed at her success with getting rid of him for the remainder of the afternoon. Little did she know that he was not going to go down without a fight.

"Perhaps her grace can join us, since it is her book that sparked this interest."

"She can once the tea is over." Regina took his arm. "Now then, let us start over there with the apple trees that Queen Odette planted for each child she bore."

Thomas frowned at Amanda's unabashed glee as he was forced into this. He knew he should be pleased that she couldn't chance being within the same area as him, but he had intended for today to be the end of her not listening.

He was ready to do whatever was needed to finally tell her what was in his heart. If need be, he would sneak into her chambers and force the issue. Yet...with her anger, she might use that as a way to make him leave her country.

Two hours into the tour, his prayer for escape was answered. Regina was summoned by the king for some matter or another. She quickly gave her apologies and insisted he go enjoy himself at the tea party.

"And do give my apologies to Lady Amanda." She said as she paused at the door. "Let her I know she can tell you even more stories from the past than I can."

"Thank you." Thomas bowed his head. "I intend on claiming her attention as soon as I find her."

***************

Amanda had known as soon as Thomas disappeared with the queen that he would find a way back to the party. There really was only one option she had if she intended to not be confronted once again with whatever he felt the need to talk about.

But how could she sneak away without anyone noticing?

She grimaced at the ruby red dress she had on. It practically screamed designer and had drawn a lot of attention. With the floppy sun hat and heels, she couldn't have been less prepared to escape into the capital. She set her barely touched teacup down and began to walk the perimeter while trying to think of a plan.

"What are you doing?" Drake asked when she walked past him.

"Hmm?" She paused, preparing to glare at him. Then it hit her. If there was one person in the world who knew a way to get out without being seen, it was Drake. "Remember our conversation this morning?"

He eyed her warily. "Yeah?"

"Then let's get out of here." She whispered.

"Why?" He nodded toward the banquet being set up. "You love those pitiful excuses they call sandwiches."

"I'd rather have a cheeseburger."

His eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

"I missed breakfast." She whispered. Which was true since she was afraid of bumping into Thomas in the palace dining room. "This tea isn't going to hold me over until dinner."

Drake hesitated. A big part of him was ready to fall into her plan for his own sake. If he heard one more lady giggle while saying how strong Liam must be to swing his mallet, he would end up saying some kind of snide remark. He hated seeing his best friend be showered with phony attention.

But then again, he had promised to help Thomas with talking to Amanda. Shouldn't he find a way to keep her here so that they could finally put an end to her stubborn refusal? Of course, he could use the time alone with her to help ease the way for Thomas.

"After we eat," Amanda added, hoping to tempt him further, "we could find a place to play a couple of games of pool." She held her purse up. "I'll even buy the first two rounds of drinks."

She really is desperate for a break, he thought.

"Deal." He nodded toward a gap in the hedges. "When I say go, you head straight through there. I'll meet you down the hill in a few minutes."

She beamed at him before doing as she was told. As she hurried down the hill, she couldn't help but chuckle at her finding yet another way to avoid Thomas. Now she wouldn't have to worry about any confrontations or declarations or anything she didn't wish to hear.

This day was turning out better than she thought.

***********************

At a dive bar...

After grabbing a burger at some little hole in the wall place, the two had searched for a bar that they wouldn't be bothered at. The one they decided on was barely lit inside with an occasional neon side here and there. The few patrons sitting at the bar seemed the type to mind their own business and expected others to do the same.

"You sure about this place?" Drake asked. He felt a little uneasy at the type of patrons here.

"It's a bar without nobles or press." She pointed out. "This is exactly what we need." 

The two wandered over to an empty pool table. Drake handed Amanda a pool cue then proceeded to rack the balls.

"You going to finally tell me why we left the tea party so quickly or not?"

Amanda shook her head. "How about a drink?"

He mentally shook his head as she ordered for them both. She was getting worse. Before news of Thomas’s dates had aired, Amanda had been more willing to talk about him.

"Are you going to break or what?" She asked.

Drake leaned down and struck the cue ball.

Two solids went in.

"Guess I'm stripes." She muttered.

Eyeing the other patrons, Drake sidled up next to her. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"Why?"

"Because you are in a fancy dress!" He hissed. "A dress that looks like you stepped out of one of those old paintings in the palace with ladies sitting in the gardens or something.

Amanda wrinkled her nose. "I don't think anyone here cares about that."

"Why did you decide to leave the tea party?" He demanded.

She leaned down to line up her shot. "Because I didn't want to stay."

Drake's head dropped forward in frustration. "Why?"

"You know why!" She twirled around to face him causing her skirt to flare out in an elegant spin. "I did not want to be cornered by Thomas again and forced to listen to him talk about his love life!"

"Amanda, do you know why Thomas is here? Alone?"

"I don't." She stuck her nose up in the air. "And I don't want to. What he does is none of my business." She took another shot. "And I intend for us to be nothing but workplace associates."

"And people call me stubborn." Drake grumbled. "Liam invited him here. If you would just--"

"Hey!"

The two turned toward a large, bald, burly man. The black leather vest he wore had on it what appeared to be a bleeding skull and other lovely items of death.

"This guy bothering you?"

Amanda relaxed. "No. But thank you for coming to check on me." She gestured toward Drake. "He is actually a friend of mine."

Casting a warning glare towards Drake, the intimidating man then faced Amanda. "I know you."

She highly doubted it. "You do? Forgive me, but I can't remember our meeting before--"

"You wrote that book." He stroked his beard while staring at her. "What is it called?"

Drake's eyes widened. "You read The Earl's Undoing?"

"That's it!" He snapped toward his other companions.

Four more heavily muscled bound men walked over and was introduced to the duchess.

Drake mentally groaned at the bodily harm that he knew was about to befall him.

Amanda was delighted if he was to go by how bright her smile was directed at the men she was introduced to.

"Did you really like it?" She asked. "I was worried that many wouldn't give it a chance being about people who aren't well known."

"We did." The one introduced as Breaker replied. "My sister has talked of nothing but your book since it came out."

The first one, who said he was known as Crow, spoke up again. "My mom loves it." He smiled, revealing a few missing teeth. "You mind if I call her and have her come here to meet you? She doesn't live far."

Drake cleared his throat while edging around the bikers surrounding Amanda. "We should probably head out. We--"

"Of course I don't mind." She waived off Drake shaking his head. "We can stay another hour or so if you want to call her." She smiled warmly up at Breaker. "If you think your sister might want to also, I would be more than happy to meet her too."

The men excused themselves, yelling to the bartender to give her whatever she wanted and to put it on their tab, and stepped outside to make their calls.

"Okay. We're leaving." Drake whispered. "There's a back door over by the restrooms." He nodded toward the other side of the bar. "I'll go first and--"

"But why?" Amanda sat down on a barstool. "I can't leave with their family members coming here."

"Did you not notice the fresh blood on that one guy's shirt? All the scars? The weapons?" Drake ran an agitated hand through his hair. "These aren't the kind of men you sit down and talk regency romances with!"

"But they approached me about that very thing." She whispered back. "If you want to go on back to the palace, I'll be fine--"

Drake held his hand up to make her stop talking. "I don't know why we're arguing about this. We're--"

"Arguing about what?" Crow asked.

"You sure this guy ain't bugging you?" The shorter of the five asked from over Drake's shoulder.

"I'm sure." She replied with a laugh. "Thank you though, Gearhead." She tilted her head towards Drake. "He's more like a brother to me and likes to try and be an older one at that."

The bikers looked on Drake with some respect.

"Hard enough making a sister do anything, much less one that isn't related." Breaker grumbled.

He slapped Drake on the back. "You're a good man for looking out for her."

"Thanks." Drake managed to say once he was sure no bones were broken.

While the bikers sat down next to Amanda to ask her more about her book, Drake sent a quick text to Thomas.

He knew if there was any chance of getting out of here safely, he would need some help.

******************

An hour later...

Thomas's entrance went by unnoticed.

The only sound in the bar was Amanda, reading her novel before a small crowd of some of the roughest individuals he had ever seen.

They were captivated as she added emotion to the dialogue.

After ordering a drink, he found a seat towards the back that allowed him a perfect view of her.

She gave her thanks as one of the bikers poured her another cup of tea when her voice cracked. She then continued with the passage that held her audience on the edge of their seats.

Elizabeth rode as if the very hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. Every moment that she felt slipping away meant that she might be too late.

"Eliza!" Marija called out. "Turn north!" She whipped her horse to catch up. "It is a shortcut to the abbey."

The two ladies continued down the moonlit road, each praying for the man they loved.

Reginald and Arthur were already in the field that would decide once and for all who would be with Elizabeth.

Arthur removed his great coat followed by his jacket, cravat, and vest. "Here." He handed them to his brother. "I'll fence better being unencumbered."

Reginald did the same. He then tested his rapier, moving it faster than the eye could follow.

"Brother, I beg of you, stop and consider what you're doing," Carlisle spoke in a low tone. "Please, don't do this. Sir Reginald has never been bested. You must--"

"I have to." Arthur snapped. He placed a hand on the younger man' shoulder. "When you lose your heart to someone one day, you will understand."

"This isn't love." His brother insisted. "This has been an obsession, one you refuse to let go."

"Some would say that the two are one in the same." Arthur rolled his wrist, testing the weight of his own rapier. "Now, forgive me, but I must fight for my chance with Elizabeth."

One noble who had journeyed with others to this spot to make certain honor was upheld in the duel motioned the two combatants to the center.

He dropped a handkerchief, causing the two to rush each other. Their swords let out a screech of metal as they slid over each other.

Arthur barely deflected Reginald's strikes.

He really is the best swordsman in Cordonia, he thought.

"Oh!" Crow's mom gasped. "This is my favorite part, your grace."

Thomas knew it was his too. He found himself leaning forward as Amanda continued after thanking the elderly woman dressed from head to toe in leather.

The two fenced, each with a determined fury to be the man to have Elizabeth all for himself.

They ended up face to face during a violent block.

"Elizabeth loves me." Arthur snarled. "She has been mine far longer than yours."

"That might well be so." Reginald spat. "But not only am I in love with her, I'm the only man she has ever been betrothed to. She is my intended. The Queen was the one to settle that Elizabeth will belong to no other but me." His eyes narrowed with the hatred he felt towards this man who dared to try and steal her away. "She is mine by right! Not yours!"

They pushed away and began to strike with more fury.

Each burned with a desire to permanently eliminate the one who stood between him and a lifetime of happiness.

The one that made them doubt that they held Elizabeth's heart.

Breaker's sister sniffed while wiping her tears. "Here it comes." She whispered.

Amanda yelled out Elizabeth's words.

"WAIT! PLEASE!"

The two noble ladies on horseback rode directly onto the field.

Before either could react to seeing the very one they were fighting over,  Elizabeth slid out of her side saddle and ran to Arthur.

The bartender cursed out loud. "Elizabeth chose that bastard over Reginald?"

"Hush!" Breaker's mother told him. "Listen."

"Elizabeth." Reginald whispered, as he saw her take Arthur's hand and yank him further down field.

He gripped his sword. Anger fueled his body as he was forced to see the woman he loved choose another. He took a step forward to finish this duel and destroy Arthur once and for all. Yet something made him halt and watch his Elizabeth talk with the man she had met first.

Crestfallen and heartbroken, Reginald took one last look at the lady who had once been his then turned to collect his things.

I must leave, he thought to himself. Elizabeth deserves to be with the man she loves. I can't take that away from her when all I've ever wanted was for her to be happy.

He handed his rapier to his man servant. He then began to put his coat back on.

He was startled when a pair of arms embraced him from behind.

Turning abruptly he noticed a somber looking Arthur speaking to his brother and Lady Marija.

Elizabeth lifted her eyes to Reginald's face, taking in every feature she adored.

"Eliza," Reginald stepped back and took her hands. His eyes dropped to the ground as he spoke, unable to see her disapproval for his rash actions, "forgive me for trying to take the one you--" he noticed her damp skirt and silk dance slippers.

A surprised yelp escaped her lips when he picked her up and carried her over to a moss covered boulder. Her concern mounted when he knelt before her.

"Reginald, I--" her breath caught as he began to use his discarded cravat to tenderly dry her feet.

"You're going to catch a chill or worse if you remain out too much longer." He took a deep breath to calm his renewed anger over her having such a man to look after her. "Arthur should see you home at once."

Elizabeth cupped his cheek urging him gently to look at her.

"Why would I allow Arthur to take me home when I would much rather be with the man I am in love with?"

Reginald lifted his eyes to hers. "Eliza? Do you mean--" 

"I love you, Reginald." She scooted off the boulder and into his arms. "You are the only man I can ever see myself married to." 

Even in the early blush of dawn, he noticed her cheeks coloring from her admission. As if desperate to prove her heart was his, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he responded to her sweet touch. When they broke apart to catch their breaths, their smiles were nearly identical with their joy. 

"Eliza,” Reginald pressed her hand to his heart, "my love, my very being is and shall always be yours."

Amanda shut the well worn copy she had been given to read an exert from, thanking the group when they applauded.

She stepped off the stage and began to sign the copies they had brought.

"My lady," one of the bikers placed his hand on her shoulder. "You aren't like those nobles we always read about."

"Thank you, Ink." She patted his heavily tattooed arm. "I promise there are more out there, like Prince Liam, who care and want to listen to the people."

"Your grace," Crow's mom pulled her into a brief hug. "This has been the best surprise yet at this bar." She turned toward the others. "Right?"

Many murmured their agreement while some others spoke of the time Arnie threw a full keg at a guy who came in causing trouble as their favorite surprise.

"Will the movie follow the book, my lady?" Breaker's sister asked.

"Yes, it will."

Amanda whirled around at the sound of the deep voice she knew so well.

"Thomas! What are you doing here?"

He briefly shrugged while moving to stand a little in front of her.

"I plan on it being as if the words Lady Amanda wrote came to life." He explained to the group.

"You're that Hunt guy." Ink narrowed his eyes. "You better have treated our duchess like she deserves."

"Mr. Hunt has been nothing but kind." Amanda quickly spoke up. "He might love my book more than anyone."

"I do." Thomas said softly.

He took her hand and held tight when he felt her trying to tug it away without making a scene.

"If you will excuse us," Thomas met each of the suspicious pairs of eyes on him, "I need to speak to her grace about my plans in Cordonia."

Crow shared a glance with his comrades.

"It's fine with us as long as she wants to go with you." He replied.

Thomas cocked an eyebrow at Amanda.

Seeing no way out of this without causing a problem, she wished the bar patrons a good night and promised to visit again before she left the capital.

Drake breathed easier once they made it out the door.

"That might be one of the weirdest experiences I have ever had." He muttered as they walked to Thomas's car.

"They were sweet." Amanda glanced back at the building. "I never dreamed that people like them would enjoy my-"

"Get in the car." Thomas bit out as he held the door open for her.

She stiffened once more, remembering how angry she was with him. "I think I'll walk."

Drake didn't bother to mask his groan at her response.

Thomas tossed him his keys, told him to drive back to the palace, and grasped Amanda's arm. He guided her on into the night.

"I meant alone." She grumbled.

Thomas remained silent.

She huffed at that. "Why did you come to the bar?"

He abruptly stopped in his tracks. His grip on her arm caused her to stumble back against him.

She looked up at his face made harsher by the shadows and low light of a nearby streetlamp.

"Do you have no knowledge of the danger you placed yourself in? Do you have any idea what they would have done to Drake if those men had not been fans of your novel? To you?!"

His questions struck like a whip as he held tight to her.

She glared defiantly up at him. "I've been on my own for many years, Mr. Hunt. I do realize the danger, yet since those men were gentlemen I saw no need to treat them any differently than someone kind I meet at a palace ball."

"Your stubbornness is going to be the death of me." He let go of her arms, took her hand, and continued to walk the path back to the palace.

She twisted her hand to set it free, then jerked him to a stop once more when he refused to let her go.

"Why were you there?"

"Drake texted for my help in getting you safely out of that bar."

"And why does he have your number? And why are you reading texts?! You hate texting."

His eyes narrowed. "I never hated receiving texts from you."

For some reason that he didn't understand, that made her angrier than anything else he had said to her.

"Why are you mad at me?" He asked. "Is it because of--"

"You never told me!" She shoved away from him when his grip loosened. "We talked everyday, Thomas. EVERYDAY! Texted one another multiple times each day." Her eyes sparkled with tears. "I told you private things about myself that I never shared with any other person." Averting her eyes, she took a shaky breath. "And you couldn't bother to tell me you had begun to date again."

"Amanda, it isn't what you think. Those dates were nothing more than--"

"I don't want to hear it." She stepped out of reach. "I see now that I took advantage of our living arrangement and thought we had a closer relationship than we did." She looked up at him, trying to not let him know how hurt she was. "Like I said at the masquerade ball, I will treat you only with a professional courtesy and not involve you in anything personal."

"If you would let me explain why I did what I did--" his eyes widened when she jogged off to get away from him. "Amanda!"

She paused, gripping handfuls of her skirt. "I only want to know one thing. Why are you invited to the events?"

"Liam invited me." He replied. "He came to my home during his bachelor trip and we discussed you."

"Me?" She paled. "Why?"

"He believed that you have feelings for me and didn't want to possibly choose you when you could be with the one you want."

"He did what?" 

She covered her face. She couldn't believe Liam would do something like this to her. She didn't know if she would ever get over this embarrassment.

"Liam then asked me how I felt about you." He added. "And I told him that I am in love with you."

Her head snapped up. "You told him what? Why?" Her brow furrowed. "Are you trying to protect me from something?"

"No. I told him because I didn't want to lose you in case he decided to choose a friend to marry." Thomas replied. "He then invited me to every social event so that I could secretly be with you."

"Then why the mass amount of dates?" He could hear her anger once more in her tone. "If you are so in love with me that you journey to Cordonia weeks before you planned, why did you date so many different women as soon as I left your home?"

Thomas guided her into a small park near the gate of the palace. He gestured toward a bench for her to sit. When she stubbornly refused to budge, he tugged her over and used his weight to force her down beside him.

"I prefer to stand." She grumbled.

 "And I prefer you sitting beside me." He countered. 

She scoffed while folding her arms and staring off into the distance. 

"I didn't want to take a chance on hurting you." He began. "I--" 

"Hurting me? How?" She removed her sun hat when she bumped him with her trying to face him. 

 He repositioned on the bench and set his arm across the back of it. "I was worried that my attraction to you was formed from you simply being near at hand."

 Amanda's brow furrowed. "I see. So, you decided to start dating to test whether or not that was true?" 

"Yes." He gently brushed a curl back that had been caught up in a breeze. "And every single one of them proved that I wasn't simply lonely." His fingers slid down her cheek. "I was lonely for you." 

Thomas inched closer to her until he could easily slide his arm around her. "When Liam came to my home and told me you were his suitor," he paused, searching for the right words, "I've never felt so hopeless in my entire life. I thought in that moment I had truly lost any possible chance to be with you." 

Amanda lowered her eyes. "I felt the same way when I saw the footage of your dates." 

He cupped her cheek, carefully urging her to look up. "Those dates were nothing. There was no affection, no spark, nothing remotely romantic." 

Her eyes searched his for the truth.

He waited patiently for her to say something about his confession.

Eventually she blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Would you like us to try and be together in secret?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Would you? You've never struck me as the type of man who enjoys subterfuge.”

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “True, but I could last a few months doing so just to be with you.”

“We would have to be so careful.” Amanda blinked in surprise at herself for even considering doing this. “Even this,” she gestured to his arm curving around her, “would cause a scandal. Which, though it would eliminate me from being an acceptable choice for Liam, it would cause a great deal of damage to my standing within the court.” Her nose wrinkled. “I wouldn’t mind that so much but I need their support from time to time for votes that could affect the people of my duchy and for the various charities I am over.”

“Then we will make certain no one sees us.” He pulled her closer. “With your friends assistance, I think we can find time to spend alone.”

She felt her heart pick up speed as it finally registered that not only had Thomas confessed his love for her, but that she was about to do something so daring. 

“Amanda?” He leaned closer to her, giving her time to make a decision. His lips brushed her cheek. 

She swallowed before meeting his lips with a tentative kiss. She should have known that any kiss they shared could not remotely be considered chaste. It was all she could do to keep up with his passionate response.

After a few moments that felt all too brief, he eased away. “We better get you back to the palace before someone notices you're gone.”

“Drake is probably waiting by a side door we usually use to let us in.” she mumbled when his lips brushed hers again.

“Then we shouldn’t abuse his friendship.” He forced himself to move away from her. 

Taking her hand in his, he led her out of the park.

The clock tower chimed the late hour by the time they found Drake leaning against the palace’s east wall with his arms crossed. Noticing that the two were still holding hands without Amanda arguing had him smiling in relief.

“Everything good?” He whispered.

The couple shared a look before both nodding.

“Thank God.” His voice returned to its normal gruff nature. “I was about to resign from trying to convince Amanda to hear you out.”

[187days]

Day Eighty-Three

Well. We didn’t have a snow day today. Something like 400 other schools in the region did, but not us!

It did snow, though, so between bad road conditions and rapidly rising Covid cases (and here I give thanks for being masked, distanced, and vaccinated as I teach), there were a lot of absences. 

I only had three of my seniors make it in. They took the test that was scheduled; the rest will have to make it up at some point. The ones who took it did well, though. I was especially pleased that the student who came in during flex time the other day for FRQ help wrote much more efficiently- and still correctly!- and took a lot less time to finish. It’s good to see that effort pay off.

I had a handful of students absent in each section of World, but most of them were here, which was good because today we were starting the final project. I decided to bring back a scaled-down version of multi-genre (two pieces instead of four) since I don’t have Mrs. T to work with, but I really wanted to get that project back in the course. So today students brainstormed topics- anything that’s a current world issue- and started their research. They have to create an informational piece and and expressive piece explaining the issue and describing efforts to address it; the honors students also have to evaluate whether or not those efforts sufficient. 

A lot of students seemed really eager to get started; they were sharing their work and telling me their plans with me without me having to ask, which was cool. It’s the last thing they’ll do in the course, so it’s good to end in a big way!

After the last bell, I went down to check in with Ms. H since that’s what we do every other Friday. I was stopped by one of my kpop-loving former students on the way, and we had to discuss Ateez because she’d suggested a few of their videos for me to check out back before Christmas. Mostly, we had to discuss this video. And, of course, she’s delighted that she’s made me a fan because they’re one of her favorite groups.

So that was fun.

Afterwards, I went on my merry way, and Ms. H and I sat down for a chat about how the end of the semester is going. Her program doesn’t use traditional grading, and she’s finding it challenging to motivate some of the students whose motivation previously came from number grades, so we brainstormed some possible solutions to implement next semester. I’m hoping the thoughts I offer or advice I give are helpful. She’s doing really well, and is getting the hang of the things all first year teachers have to get the hang of. 

On my way out of the building, I realized I was super hungry, so I ordered coffee and a sandwich from a local shop. By the time I made it uptown, it was waiting for me, which was delightful. So I have food, caffeine, and it’s the weekend! Woohoo!

[unclegarou]

In honor of reaching over 100 followers, I present to you.... *drum roll*  

Let Me Make It Up To You | Garou NSFW Scenario (Fem! XReader)

a few lines from my “What Garou Says During Relationship” are used below in bold 

pleaseeeeee send feedback. if there is any grammatical errors or parts you did / did not like, let me know!

These past few days had been uneventful and tiresome, the same thing on your agenda every single day. Work, work, and work. Some times you craved for a thrill, the kind that prevented you from continuing that repetitive schedule, even for just a few hours.

It was nearing midnight when you finally broke away from the hot steam, a rush of cool air hitting your skin as you drew the shower curtains back. You’d been idly standing under the water for at least a hour, simply collecting your thoughts and rinsing away any bad odors. Your feet met with the tiled floor, leaving those annoying, wet puddles in your step. A clean towel was already hanging from the thin railing latched on the wall, which you quickly snatched up to dry the droplets of water rolling down your body.

There was nothing better than that relieved feeling after a long shower. It worked wonders for the pressures you've been enduring lately. Your hand swiped diagonally across the fogged mirror, revealing only half of your reflection. You contently stared at yourself, noticing the usual tiredness in your eyes starting to vanish.  

You departed from the bathroom and into your messy closet, briskly digging around until you settled on an oversize t-shirt and a random pair of panties. You didn't have the energy to hassle with the clips of your bra so you decided to go without one, knowing it could wait till morning.

The night wasn't officially over until you turned off the remaining lights and checked if all doors were locked. You wandered through the house, visiting one room at a time until you were left with the kitchen. A cold breeze whipped past you, prompting a chain of goosebumps along your bare arms. Your head snapped over to the source, eyes landing squarely on the open window. How did that get open?

Just as you began to investigate, a pair of arms slithered around your waist. “Guess who?~”

Now, any sane person would have screamed at the top of their lungs, but this was a common occurrence for you. The presence looming behind you definitely belonged to Garou, his alluring voice sounding all too familiar. You peeled away from his hold and whirled around to face him, but his insanely built chest was the first to appear in your line of sight. You craned your neck just to get a glimpse of his face, which pretty much looked the same, but unlike before, his aura was practically screaming trouble. As much as you hated to admit it, you were in awe, “What are you doing here?”

Luckily, Garou wasn't paying you any mind, his eyes too occupied with traveling around the kitchen. “I'm hungry.”, He stepped past you and headed for the refrigerator, “What’s for dinner?”

After an entire month of no communication or surprise visits, he was back, and without the apology or explanation you deserved. Both of your hands firmly rested upon your hips, doing their best not to wrap around his neck and strangle him, “Garou, its almost 12 o'clock.”

“So?”, Garou answered plainly, closing the fridge and switching to the cabinets, his perfect height keeping him face to face with each built-in space. You watched in disbelief, a part of you wondering how he could be so casual like he didn't go MIA for weeks, but also admiring the muscles that seemed to flex so deliciously under that tight, long-sleeved shirt.

You slowly exhaled from your nose, “Sooo, stop going through my stuff.”

Despite your efforts to hide it, Garou could easily sense the irritation in your tone. He briefly paused his search to glance in your direction, “What's with the attitude? I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

Your hands reluctantly slid down from your hips. Of course you were happy to see him. It was impossible to forget all the times he popped up at your house just to talk, the conversations ranging from trivial matters to current problems with the rise of monsters and heroes. He was the only guy that made you feel the happiest during the lonesome days of your life. Not to mention the suggestive flirting and ‘accidental’ touches.

But he went and disappeared, unannounced and without a trace.

The memory struck a nerve, instantly bringing you back to your hostile behavior. “I already left you and everything we did in the past.”, you declared confidently, even though half of it was lie.

Garou didn't have a response this time, he only stared at you, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. This obviously wasn't how he was excepting you to react, he blinked dumbfoundedly. You shifted uncomfortably, thinking maybe you went too far, until you noticed his eyes weren't on your face anymore, but your chest instead. Thanks to the open window from earlier, your nipples were poking underneath your shirt, in perfect view for Garou to see. Your arms shot up to cover your chest, “Hey! Keep your eyes on my face, pervert.” The fact that you were barely clothed completely flew over your head since you were so irritated with his calm demeanor.

“Pervert?”, He laughed at your flustered face, smugly leaving his spot by the cabinets to stand directly in front of you. He leaned down to your level, an amused smirk playing on his face. “It’s not like I haven’t seen em’ before.”

All sensible thoughts were abandoning your mind, the only thing you could do was conceal your erect nipples embarrassingly. Being so close rendered a good view of the hunger in his eyes. Another laugh filled the room, “Oh right, that was in the past.” Your discomfort didn’t make him back away, instead he inched closer, this time right next to your ear, “Do you need me to remind you?”

It didn't take long for his words to send a wave of excitement between your legs, a sensation you'd long forgotten ever since he left. Just when you thought you had the situation under control for once, he managed to spin it around in his favor. You turned your back to him, “No, I don't want to remember so just leave.”

Garou remained close behind you, the distance separating your bodies was very slim, “You know you don't mean that.”, he teased, unfazed by your threat, “Stop being a damn baby and let me make it up to you.”, his arms encircled your torso for the second time today, and you had a feeling he wouldn't be letting you go.

“What do you mean—”, your words fell short at the pair of lips that connected with the crook of your neck. It was a gentle kiss against your skin, a little alarming at first but delicate enough to make you relax. He lingered there for a moment before trailing kisses up to your jawline. Your eyelids slid shut, a blissful gasp escaping your mouth. Seeing as you didn't try to run off, he took it a step further and nibbled at sensitive areas he memorized from previous interactions.

Garou knew you had no intention of rejecting his advances, but he still decided to test the waters. His warm tongue playfully darted out to lick the shell of your ear. The way your back shivered against his chest was more than enough answer, yet he still preferred to tease you anyway, “If you want me to stop just say it.”, his hands were now underneath your shirt, rubbing at your sides affectionately.

This may be your only chance to finally break free his spell, kick him out of your life forever and move on, but the more you thought of that outcome, the more it seemed to bring you pain. There was no way you could tell him to stop now, especially since he's got you all hot and bothered.

Just as he expected, you didn't put up much of a fight, “Mh, that’s what I thought.” There was no turning back now, he had you right where he wanted. Those large pair of hands roamed straight up to your breast, eagerly groping them however they pleased. The nipples you were desperately trying to hide before were softly pinched between his thumb and finger. You whimpered shyly, gradually submitting to his temptations and giving him all the access he needed.

Garou pulled your shirt off in one quick motion and twirled your body around to face him. He lifted you up by your thighs, effortlessly settling them around his waist. Garou charged at your lips, his tongue forcibly invading your mouth. You matched his enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck, desperately pulling him closer and deeper. He backed you up against a nearby wall, his hips grazing between your legs ever so slightly, allowing you to feel his hard length, but only for a moment. He was starting to tease you again. You impatiently reached down to palm his clothed dick, which was clinging tightly against his pants, begging to be let free.

Garou detached himself from your lips, “Not yet, I want to focus on you first.”, he grabbed both of your arms and pinned them above your head. There was no room for protest as he reclaimed your lips again, kissing you more fiercely than before. It seems he was serious about making up for lost time. No matter how relaxed and unbothered he appeared to be, Garou completely understood that you were hurt by his abrupt absence, and this was his way of saying sorry.

Using his other free hand, he drifted between your thighs and pressed against your damp panties. His fingers caressed the material so close to your throbbing pussy, nearly driving you insane, “Please, Garou.” His ears perked up at your whimpering, instantly falling in love with the sound. He easily tore apart the piece of fabric and discarded them on the floor. Taking his middle and index finger, he plunged into your slick entrance just as you asked. Your back arched, a delighted moan falling from lips. But your satisfaction was short-lived as he pumped in and out of you at a terribly slow pace. Not only were your wrist imprisoned in his grip, but he was mischievously watching each of your needy reactions.

“Do you forgive me now?”, Garou catered to your neglected breast, kissing and biting around the areola while curling his fingers inside your tight walls. You vigorously nodded your head, unable to speak, but it still wasn't enough for him. “I don't think you do.”, his thumb rubbed against your clit, stirring up more pleasure in the pit of your stomach, “How about now?”

The wild combination was enough to make you use your words, “Yes, Yes, Yes, I f-forgive you.” His slender fingers were striking spots you never knew about. It felt so good you found yourself grinding against his fingers, moaning helplessly. The intimate moments you shared before felt nothing like this, it was like you were living deep within ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back, a sudden thirst overpowering you, “Don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck.”, Garou grunted, he thought he could hold himself back earlier but now he was at his limit. Distracting himself by attacking your swollen lips just wasn't working anymore. He released your wrist from his grasp and went to rub his painfully hard dick. “Look at me.”, his fingers picked up their momentum, reviving you from your dazed state and right into his possessive stare. By the way your walls were fastening around fingers, you were near your orgasm. He sinked further inside you, “Cum.”

Just as he commanded, your creamy, white liquids were flowing down his hand, which was hungrily licked up as soon as you finished. The upper half of your body limply fell against his chest, trembling frantically. It was obvious that you were exhausted, but he knew very little about aftercare, only allowing your body to calm down for a second before letting you down from his hold. “Garou.”, you whined, legs still wobbling and breath uneven, but it was too late, he had already dropped the pants that were irritatingly restricting his dick. A little precum was dripping from the tip, “Turn around, I'm not done yet.” Garou was fully engulfed with lust, it was evident in the way he looked at you.

With the little energy you had left, you did as you were told, hands flat on wall and body bent over. He didn't waste another second, firmly gripping your hips and thrusting right into your pussy. You sucked in a deep breath, his length stretched you out way more than his fingers, and you wondered why he just didn't start with it from the beginning. Your knees began to buckle at his harsh pounding. He continuously pulled you down his length, keeping his eyes trained on your back, loving it’s perfect arch. Your cries of pleasure was like music to his ears. “Whats my name?”, he growled.

You moaned hoarsely, “Garou.”

Of course he pretended like he didn't hear, “Say it. Louder.”, his pace never faltered as his dick rammed deeper inside you with each thrust. Your hands were sliding down the wall now, unable to keep up with his stamina. You were quivering all over, a sign that another orgasm was threatening to release, the feeling was overwhelmingly good. “Garou!”, you violently came again, adding onto the liquids that were already trickling down your legs. Garou pulled out of you soon after, his hot seed splattering all over your back.

If you had been in the right state of mind, you would've scolded him, but right now you just needed to rest. Garou wasn't panting as harshly as you were, only a few droplets of sweat ran down his forehead. You were the only one who could barely stand, the wall being your only support.

This was the time where Garou was supposed to say something meaningful and go run you a bath, but he just stood and admired his work, a sense of pride rushing through him, “You look so pretty like that—”

“Wait, Garou.”, your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, instantly recognizing the erotic tone in his voice, “Let me take a break first!”

He grinned cheekily, already reaching for you with greedy hands,  “Come on, one more round won't hurt.”

[blurrypetals]

Queen of Air and Darkness by Cassandra Clare - blurrypetals review

originally posted dec. 9, 2018 - ★★★★★

A-T. L-A-S-T.

I am so absolutely overwhelmed by everything that I've experienced in the last few days while listening to this. As Cassandra Clare's longest book to date, a whole dang fuckin' lot happens in this book. To sort my way through this review, the following paragraphs are gonna be chock full of a whole dang fuckin' lot of untagged spoilers, so continue at your own risk. I do think you're doing yourself a huge disservice if you do read this review before you've read the book, though. It's also incredibly likely I'll drop a spoiler or two on every Shadowhunters book so, if you're here and you have not, for some reason, read The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices, the other two books in The Dark Artifices trilogy, and all of the short stories in The Bane Chronicles, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, and Ghosts of the Shadow Market, I implore you to amend that, to go and read those fourteen books and this fifteenth book before reading this review, just in case I ruin anything for you by accident. Okay, now that's out of the way, let's talk about sequels and how to finish a grand, epic fantasy story. It was difficult for me to not compare this book to three other books. The first two are, of course, Cassandra Clare's other finales, City of Heavenly Fire and Clockwork Princess. This handily bowls City of Heavenly Fire straight under the table because, even though City of Heavenly Fire is still a 5-star book, it's the weakest of The Mortal Instruments hexalogy and, other than perhaps The Bane Chronicles, it's also maybe the weakest in The Shadowhunter Chronicles in its current entirety. Clockwork Princess, by contrast, however, is, in my opinion, the best of the entire series. As a finale, Queen of Air and Darkness here sits comfortably as the second best Shadowhunters finale yet. So much happens in this book. It's split into three different parts which could have easily been split into three shorter books with near-perfect three act structures in place for each of them, making this book a nine act book with two "false" climaxes that would have made for quite the cliffhangers if they had been split up for any reason. The first act deals with the aftermath of Livia's death and, because it has a lot of rising action, it's actually a little frustrating in some ways, even if it was frustrating in an incredibly enjoyable way. One of my absolute favorite scenes in the whole book is Julian running to Magnus for help in the middle of the night because it so perfectly mirrors the scene in Clockwork Prince when another blue eyed boy named Will Herondale was at the end of his rope, desperate not to love a girl he was cursed not to be with. I loved the contrast between a Herondale's plea for salvation and a Blackthorn's last hope to avoid damnation, separated by a hundred years yet tied by the same plight and the same warlock's magic. Emotionless-Julian was a really compelling read, even if I was almost as angry and frustrated with him and Magnus as Emma was. I loved to hate how cold and calculating he became without his love and compassion around to guide his moral compass. I hated his betrayal of Emma so fucking much it hurt but I've always loved Julian's ruses, schemes, and plans, and his dealings with the Seelie Queen, the Black Volume, and a skilled calligrapher and wizard called OfficeMax. Damn. So fucking good. Also, speaking of Julian's plans and schemes, his war council and Livia's Watch is one of the most satisfying scenes in The Shadowhunter Chronicles as it currently exists; I'm so proud of my son. He is so great. Hot diggity. Speaking of reminders from past stories, we get the entire cast of The Mortal Instruments during a lot of this book. I was really excited anytime we ran into anyone from The Mortal Instruments, especially the part when Julian and Emma ended up being thrown in the same Unseelie prison as Jace and Clary were and that was Jace and Clary's first appearance in the whole novel. It could have easily gotten overwhelming; I was, in fact, rather worried that Jace and Clary would steal the spotlight for a good spell in the final act of the book, but they didn't, since Emma and Julian were, eh...too big to ignore, and the book even ends with the long-awaited Bane-Lightwood wedding of the centuries, but the story proper closes on Julian and Emma on the beach together. Even though The Wicked Powers is still yet to come, this book felt like a huge culmination of all fourteen of the prior books in a huge way. We had Jem and Tessa from The Infernal Devices, we had Jace, Clary, Simon, Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus from The Mortal Instruments, and we had Emma, the Blackthorns, and all their friends and allies from this series and it felt huge. I also felt the weight of what's to come in a super hardcore manner when it came to Kit and Ty, Dru and Jaime, and, of course, Ash. I genuinely feel as though I can't wait any longer to see how Kit and Ty's stories turn out. I'm especially pleased by the fact that Jem and Tessa decided to adopt Kit and that Kit will have the family he's longed for his whole life and, not only will he have two capable people parenting him through the rest of his adolescence, but he'll also have that younger sibling he's been longing for, someone he can teach and take care of in the way he wasn't when he was small. I really hope at least one of the two forthcoming Ghosts of the Shadow Market stories focuses on Kit and his new life and new home with Jem, Tessa, and hopefully their new precious tiny one. Thoughts of the future of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in Drusilla, Kit, Ty, and, specifically, Ash, bring me back around to the second section of the book, which is the most absolutely bananas thing Cassandra Clare has ever written but is also actually incredibly compelling. I fucking loved the alternate universe stuff, everything to do with the exciting return of not-Jace, the introduction of alterna-Livia, other-Cameron, and living-Raphael (especially the part where he begged Emma and Julian to tell Magnus and Alec to rename Rafael; I was in tears laughing about all of that biz), and the temporary absence of emotionless-Julian and how he and Emma ended up healing so much of their relationship there. I also am so totally down with not-Jace being the main villain of The Wicked Powers, or at least a main villain. I am really impressed with Cassie—which, when am I not, honestly?—in the way that second section of the book was written. It felt like a huge love letter to me as a longtime and dedicated fan of The Shadowhunter Chronicles in general because we got to see these, for lack of a better term, a fanfiction AU turned canon that doesn't read like a fanfiction in the least bit because it remains relevant, interesting, tense, and important the whole way through, even though it's literally a gigantic non-sequitur that some could argue is "pointless." I am not one who would argue that, though, because I loved it so damn much. It gave me what is probably my favorite Emma and Julian scene in all of The Dark Artifices, just after they return to the resistance stronghold. You know the scene. Okay, rapid fire because I could honestly go on forever about this book; I pinned 108 different clips throughout this book, which is the most pins or post-its I've ever put in one single book before. I adored the fact that Simon gave Julian his iron Lord Montgomery figurine before he and Emma left Idris. Michael Wayland's ghost showing up for Robert Lightwood's funeral fucked me up in a super hardcore way and the fact that Kit was the only one who could see him or even sense his presence really got to me and I really teared up because Bitter of Tongue from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy absolutely wrecked me and this poked at that wound. Everything in regards to Mark, Cristina, and Kieran was incredibly sweet, sex positive, loving, trusting, and healthy and I just...gah they are perfect. A most excellent thruple, one for the ages. A great many of my pins have something to do with Kit growing into his inborn Herondale talent of being a master in snark (think candy gram and "Alas, poor Yorick,"). Everyone in the alternate realm being grossed out by endarkened-Emma's and endarkened-Julian's PDA was hilarious. Julian realizing art requires pain and morality about snapped my sad tiny bird heart clean in half. Feline death on a massive scale. Anytime Jace's more playful, youthful side showed because he's a happy boi now was delightful, especially the parts where he wanted to get to hold the mortal sword and when he declared, "We're the bait!" Magnus hallucinating was great, but my favorite hallucination was when he was flirting with a vase like it was Alec and then very seriously offering to buy it from the Institute. I also loved it when Magnus called Clary "biscuit". It made my heart all soft and nostalgic. Julian's smile at Emma when he got his emotions back tot me emotional, dammit! Caterina meeting Kit for the first time made my heart feel like it was too large for my body. Jace using finger guns, because finger guns are always hilarious. Dru realizing she was looking at the face of a parent when she looked at Julian. Kit responding to being called "Herondale," when Magnus said, "Stay away from my children, Herondale." Emma telling Diana that she showed her the kind of woman she wanted to be. Emma's terrible pun about Manuel being tied up. "Ragnor Lives." An old lady accidentally complimenting Julian on being tall. Emma and Julian deciding to go to the other at the exact same time. Alec would look better on the money. Mark trying (and failing) to make balloon animals and accidentally making them all snakes. That's not even a third of them all. Near the beginning of the review, I said I was having a difficult time avoiding comparing this book to three other books, two of which were past Shadowhunters books. The third book, however, is Kingdom of Ash by Sarah J. Maas, which is another very long final book in a series, one that somehow managed to get voted as the best YA fantasy of 2018 and, because of that slap in the face, I couldn't help but wonder how this book, technically the fifteenth in a series, managed to feel fresh, new, fun, and lovable from minute one to hour thirty of the audiobook even though this is the fifteenth time I've experienced a book in The Shadowhunter Chronicles for the first time and I've never come close to feeling the same sort of apathy or anger as I do for Sarah J. Maas and Throne of Glass. This is how you end a series. This is how you end one part of your series. This is how it's done. Take notes, everyone else. Get on Cassie's level.

[epic-ash-and-sora-fan]

Alive Chap 1

Clemont thought that getting the chance to be an intern at a new facility would be a valuable learning experience. Little did he know this facility held a huge secret which could change the world as they knew it! (Diodeshipping)

Chapter 1: The Amazing Facility

No way…

Clemont stared at the letter in his hands. His breakfast cereal sat forgotten on the table. The teen couldn't even fathom how this was happening. Was Placebo Net seriously inviting him to work as a temporary intern?

Placebo Net was a relatively new facility, but they already made a name for themselves. They're dedicated to creating various tools and drugs that improve the quality of life for people and pokemon. They're close to curing several diseases and even stunned doctors by helping someone walk again. Placebo Net made the impossible possible. Why would they ask him to be an intern at his age?! What insane universe did he wake up in this morning?

"Clemont, you've been gawking at that letter for ages, what's it about?" asked a youthful voice beside him.

"Sorry, Bonnie. It's from Placebo Net. They… want me as an intern."

"Wow, really?!" cried Bonnie. "Cool! They made all those new medicines right?"

"Yeah, it's only a temporary thing, but I could learn a lot."

"You're gonna accept then?"

"Maybe…" said Clemont as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a little hesitant to leave the gym but… Clembot has been keen to go solo for a while, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping."

"Well keep an eye out for keepers because I won't be around to help with that," said Bonnie with a wink.

"Bonnie!" moaned Clemont. Then he smiled. "Okay, I'll do it. What harm could it do?"

The rest of the day consisted of calling Placebo Net to inform them of his decision. He also made certain all was in order for Clembot to run the gym in his absence. He is due to start tomorrow, and it would, for the most part, be an induction day. Placebo Net wasn't ridiculously far from Lumiose City. Just an hour's train ride to Kuro City so it wasn't like he would be miles and miles away. Still, the manager of Placebo Net suggested Clemont actually roomed at Placebo Net. Not only it would make things easier for them both it would also be more cost-effective for Clemont to not have to pay for train tickets every day. The teen couldn't argue with that logic so he agreed. Bonnie pouted upon hearing this.

"Can't I come with you Clemont?" she asked sadly.

"I wish you could Bonnie, but I'm going to be really busy. It isn't like at the gym where I could watch you during a lull in challengers, I'll likely be gone all day."

Plus, Clemont was sure the researchers wouldn't appreciate his sister getting under their feet all the time while they were trying to work.

----

Clothes, check. Toothbrush, check. Pokeballs, check.

"Clemont this is the eighth time you went through that list. You have everything already!" griped Bonnie as she watched from the doorway.

"One can't be too careful Bonnie," said Clemont as he got up from his cross-legged position on his bedroom floor. He picked up his backpack which was now several times heavier then went to give his sister a hug.

"You be good okay. I'll call when I get the chance."

"Okay. I love you Clemont."

"I love you too."

Meyer walked into the room with a lunch box

"A little something to eat on the train. It's not your mum's cooking, Arceus rest her soul, but it's filling I'd imagine."

"Thanks, Dad," said Clemont as he accepted the lunch box and was just able to fit it into his already crammed backpack.

"Well, good luck son. Work hard and keep us posted, and don't worry, Bonnie and I will hold down the fort."

Clemont nodded and after more goodbye hugs Clemont left the gym. He glanced back at the building for a moment, knowing he won't be back for a while.

"No turning back now," he said to himself and continued on.

----

Clemont was now getting off the train at Kuro Station. Kuro City was as the name implied. Everything was dark coloured. Even the pavement somehow. The flower baskets dangling from various homes were the only things with even an ounce of colour.

Clemont pulled out his map and was somewhat surprised to find Placebo Net was only a couple of blocks away. Along the way the blonde watched everyone go about their business. Children not much younger than Bonnie played hopscotch in a play area with a Skitty. There was a salon where a woman was reading a magazine while waiting for a man to finish grooming what Clemont presumed was her Furfrou. A pansear walked up to Clemont and handed him a leaflet that advertised a pastry shop. The teen placed the flyer into his pocket to review later. He also strolled by a flower stall where a young woman was making flower bracelets with the aid of her Floette.

"Here we are!"

The building was incredibly modest. It was about 30 stories tall and the walls were a dull grey. The windows were so clean, Clemont would forgive anyone for thinking there were no windows at all. The glass door slid open as he approached. Inside was a sharp contrast to the exterior. The walls and floor were pure white. There were tall plants in each corner of the lobby and there were light blue chairs by the windows. Clemont soon reached the desk where a brunette woman with a loose ponytail was typing something on the computer.

"Ahem… erm excuse me, I'm the new temp intern starting today." Clemont stuttered as he presented the badge he received for verification.

The woman peered up and smiled.

"Ah, yes let's see."

The woman accepted the badge and scanned it on a machine next to her computer. After it made a happy beep, she nodded and handed the card back.

"So you're Clemont. Well, everything seems in order. I'll let the boss know you're here. So if you'll take a seat."

"That won't be necessary, Heather. I'm already here." announced a new voice. Clemont turned to see a middle-aged man walking towards the desk. "Appreciate the sentiment though."

Heather nodded returning to her work. The man turned to Clemont. He had dark brown thinning hair, and he wore a lab coat over his mint green shirt.

"Wonderful to meet you Clemont," he said as he held out his hand which the inventor took. "Again, I'm delighted you accepted our invitation. My name is Brad. I believe we spoke on the phone."

Clemont nodded.

"Thank you for inviting me. It will be a valuable learning experience."

"That it will." laughed Brad. "Every day is a learning experience here. Now, why don't we start with a tour? Would you like anything to drink? A snack perhaps?"

"No thanks. I had something on the train."

"Well if you change your mind, let me know," said Brad as they headed towards the door he entered through which turned out to be an elevator. Brad pressed a button, and they ascended. They went up a few floors before the elevator beeped and the doors opened.

"This is the research floor," said Brad. "Self-explanatory. We learn everything we can about diseases and how they can affect the human body. Same thing with pokemon. We're now researching Pokerus and determining if there are any hidden adverse effects of contracting it. So far all we've found is that it can occasionally cause mild skin irritation, and that's only in very rare cases and is treatable with prescription cream."

Clemont looked around. There were many people either on computers or looking through microscopes. Someone jotted their findings on a tablet.

"As you can see they're very diligent," said Brad with a smile.

"This is fascinating!" cried Clemont. "I can't believe how efficient everything is."

"Haha, if you're impressed already, I can't wait to show you the rest of the building," laughed Brad.

The tour continued at a steady clip. Brad showed Clemont the computer room and another research room. There were several break rooms and rest areas for all-nighters.

"We'll this one up to be your room," said Brad. "Why don't you leave your backpack here. It looks heavy."

"It is. Thanks," said Clemont as he took off his backpack giving his shoulders some much needed relief, and placed it on the bed. Once that was done with they continued the tour.

"This is where the magic happens," said Brad as they entered a laboratory. "Once we've determined that the drug works and is safe to use, we send it to hospitals or pokemon centers depending on who needs it."

"Hello sir." said a blonde woman as she entered the room carrying a small case. "What brings you here if I may be so bold?"

"You may," said Brad. "I'm showing our new intern the ropes.

"Oh, of course! That was today." cried the woman. "I can be such an airhead sometimes. Nice to meet you. Clemont right?"

"That's right," said Clemont as he shook her hand.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to working with you." the blonde woman turned to Brad and whispered something to him. Brad smiled reassuringly.

"I'll tell him Freya, just getting the induction done with first."

"Sorry, tell me what?" asked Clemont. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. What was Placebo Net up to?

The researcher flinched as if he knew he let something slip. He sighed but smiled.

"Well I suppose it won't hurt to inform you now, but first I should explain a few things. I hope you'll listen before making any decisions."

Against his better judgement, Clemont nodded.

"Then let's head up a couple of floors," said Brad.

Clemont followed Brad to the elevator while clutching at his sleeves. He had expected a normal internship, but this was turning out to be something creepy and even a little shady. He stayed silent in the elevator wondering what Brad wanted to tell him.

"Now what I'm about to tell you is… let's say unusual, and we're not ready to go public with it yet. We'd be grateful if you keep what you're about to see under your hat for the time being."

Clemont nodded.

"Yes, of course."

The elevator door opened. The duo walked down the hallway and through a door that led to another laboratory. It had lots of glass tubes of varying sizes sat on top of a large table. The contents of the tubes made Clemont's stomach turn.

"Is…. is that…?"

"Yep," answered Brad. "That is a human heart."

In fact, each tube held a different organ. Lungs, kidneys, a liver, a stomach and even what appeared to be a human brain.

"Wha… what is this!?" he cried disgusted by what he saw in front of him. Brad let out a loud laugh.

"Had you going, didn't I? You can relax Clemont, we didn't gut anybody. These are artificial, surprise!"

"They're not real?"

"Technically, no," said Brad. "but they don't have to be. They work just like the real thing."

It took a few seconds for that sentence to sink in, but when they did they hit Clemont like a truck.

"What?!"

"You heard right," said Brad smirking as if he was enjoying this. "It took a lot of trial and error, but we have been able to create a working heart out of synthetic fibres. They are 100% eco-friendly. No plastic whatsoever. I remember the first breakthrough well. We created an artificial heart. Then we wired it to an artificial human brain. We gave the heart a little jolt, not much different from a defibrillator. The heart began to beat! Only for a few seconds but it was beating! I'm amazed Officer Jenny didn't come knocking from how loudly we celebrated. After countless failures, we finally created a heart that worked! Now we just had to keep it working. This is revolutionary! Transplant waiting lists will be a thing of the past if we can pull this off! If someone needs a new heart. We could build one and best of all it would be adaptable to that person's blood type so there will be no risk of rejection. We've even made artificial blood and blood cells. Yes, blood cells! In simpler terms, whatever the human body has. We've made a synthetic version."

Clemont could hardly believe what he heard. If what Brad was saying is true, then it truly was revolutionary. It could change lives! This was like something out of a sci-fi movie.

"So…. you…. you could even replace brains?" he asked.

Brad let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, I don't about that. They are just for research and testing other organs. It's the brain that tells them what to do after all."

"So… you've made an artificial version of everything? Could you even make skin? Hair? Bones?!"

Brad gave the inventor another smile.

"I think I'll let you be the judge of that. Come with me."

Clemont followed Brad back into the hallway still reeling from what he was being told. What could top artificial, working organs?

"Through here," said Brad as he led Clemont through another door. The long room was almost empty. Just a few tables with a computer on each one. There seemed to be a window in front of the desks but it showed what was in the room next to this one.

"We'll use this one-way mirror for the time being," said Brad. "We might scare him."

"Him?"

Brad said no more. He gestured to the one-way mirror so Clemont walked towards it and peered in. He saw an empty room with a single bed. On the bed, someone appeared to be asleep. It was a boy, not much older than Clemont. He had tanned skin and black messy hair. The blonde couldn't see much else though as the boy was under the bedsheets. At first, Clemont thought it might've been another intern and wondered why Brad was showing him this. Then another possibility crossed his mind, and it made him weak at the knees.

"That…. that's not…."

"It is," said Brad looking serious. "That boy…. is the first completely artificial human."

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Jelly Bean (Batfam x toddler!Batsis)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Angst, Psycho  Word count:~2835 Summary: (Don’t wanna spoil)

You loved school. 

Learning new things, spending time with your friends, playing on the playground and having fun in general. It was awesome.  So, like everyday, you basically jumped out of your bed when Alfred woke you up, got dressed in a violet princess-y dress with a bat-symbol on the chest-part which Duke has given you as an I-hope-you-accept-me-as-your-brother-gift (you did) -it soon became your favourite dress and you wore it at least once every two weeks much to your fathers dismay and all your other siblings delight, you don't really know why- and hurried down to join your family at breakfast.  You, being your usual cheery self, happily told Damian about the dream you had, while eating the scrambled eggs Alfred had placed before you, not noticing the tiredness of all your siblings, even though your aura alone made them happier and a bit less-tired, since even your excitement about so little things, like the fact that you met a talking cucumber sandwich in your dream, was contagious.  When you'd finished eating you hopped into the car (with a little help from Alfred), wiggling the whole way to your primary school and basically ran to your class after hugging Alfred goodbye.  Being a first grader was great. No tests, no grades and only nice teachers.  One of those teachers was Miss Tanser, your class' teacher and one of the nicest persons you knew. She always joked during lessons, sang catchy songs with the class and never got angry or furious about anything.  That was also why she was your favourite, which was the reason for you being extra happy that it was Wednesday. Wednesday meant you would have Miss T in the last two periods and she ends the class with jelly beans like she always did on Wednesdays.  The time flew by and soon enough you sat beside one of your friends in the first row of math class, listening to Miss T talking about addition and subtraction, doodling small bats -your favourite animals- in your exercise book when the bell rung.  "I guess that's it for today kids," Miss T said, went back to her desk and pulled out a bag of heart-shaped jelly beans. She went through the rows, from the back to the front, giving everyone a bean, until she arrived in front of you, sticking her hand into the bag. When she took it out again, it was empty. "I'm really sorry, but I think that was the last of it." A small pout made its way onto your face and you looked at the desk in front of you, slightly sad, but when you heard Miss T clap you looked up at her smiling. "You know what, I think I still have a bag of them in my car. How about we quickly run over to it and I'll give you a jelly bean."  You smiled and nodded, packing your stuff up in record time. Patiently, -since you knew that it was Harper's turn to pick you up and bring you to your violin class (and she always took quite a bit to arrive at your school)- you stood beside the door and waited for Miss T, who still needed to clean her desk up. 

When Miss T and you arrived at her car, she opened it up, reached into the glove compartment and came back with a hand full of normal shaped jelly beans in intense green-ish colour. You picked one out and smiled at her, but before you were able to say thanks she said: "If you don't tell the others, you can have all of them. Those are my favourites." At first, you were a bit hesitant, but when you saw her encouraging smile you took the beans. "Thank you very much Miss Tanser," you said politely, slipping two of the sweets into your mouth. They tasted kinda strange, but as they were Miss T's favourites you didn't want to offend her with not eating them and so you just took them all in your mouth and quickly chewed and swallowed them.  You turned around, wanting to go back to the front of the school and wait for Harper when you suddenly felt dizzy. Before you even registered what happened, you stumbled onto the floor only to be picked up by someone, not being able to see who before everything went black. 

(Back at the Bat-cave) Harper was sitting in the cave sobbing, surrounded by the whole Bat-Family, telling everything she knew. When she arrived at your school, she wasn't greeted by you as she usually was. A bit confused, she searched through the school and asked everyone she met, only to be met with ignorance.  "I-I sho-sho-should have been there earlier," she said after she finally calmed down enough.  "It's not your fault," Bruce said, even though he was basically going mad on the inside, not bearing the thought of losing you. He just couldn't. Ever since your Mum, Selina Kyle, set you down at the front step of the manor, saying that she didn't want you to grow up as she did and that she'd still be there for you, just not as much as before, he was head's over heels for you (in a platonic way). Your little smile brightened up his days and your innocent was his anchor in the great, deep sea of darkness that was his mind nowadays. He had lost so much in his life, he couldn't lose you too. Gotham couldn't lose you. You weren't only his anchor, you were the city's as well. In those time's of depression, you were the ray of hope that made the civilians hold on and believe in a better future. But if you were gone... Bruce couldn't imagine what would become off him and this city. Dick wasn't any better. He knew that you were the glue that kept this family together. No matter how bad things went, how hard Tim and Damian fought or how pissed Jason was at Bruce, a single look at you made them calm down and overthink their decisions. They just couldn't bear the thought of making you sad or not being able to see you if they messed up bad enough. You were the heart and the soul of the family, without you everything that had been build up, Damian finally calling the others his 'brothers' (even though very rarely), Tim sleeping at least three hours a night, Jason joining the team again and even playing along with Bruce's rules, Cass feeling included and loved, Duke feeling like he belongs to this family, Steph and Harper having people to talk to even in their darkest times and Babs having been able to work through her Trauma and getting back to her old-self, would be gone. Leaving behind a broken family and even more broken people inside it.  Jason was angry...no. Not angry, furious. He wanted to tear apart whoever or whatever was the reason for your absence. You were with distance his most favorite sibling. No matter how dark his times, one look at you and he felt like it was worth it. Like everything he's been through was worth it as long as he knew you were safe in his vicinity. But now you weren't. And he wanted to burn the world down to get you back. Tim was slightly numb. His sleep-deprived mind hasn't quite caught up to the fact that you were, indeed, missing. You couldn't be. You were always there. How could anything happen to you, Gotham's little Angel, cutest Baby for five years in a row (and most likely next year first time 'cutest child'). It was impossible, at least in Tim's eyes. Soon enough he'd realize what was happening and he, too, would go crazy in worry. Damian was quite similar to Jason. He was burning with fury, but deep inside, somewhere only you had a place, he was 'so'-close to crying. You were the first person he was truly able to love. The first person he let into his heart, not regretting it for one second. Without you he'd still be the bratty-little-devil he was when he came to Bruce (he's still a bit bratty but in an acceptable way). He couldn't lose you now. In fact, he couldn't ever lose you. It would break him. Cass was dying inside. She loved you with all her heart. You couldn't leave her like that. She was supposed to watch you grow up, teach you how to dance and make you the best fighter there ever was, even better than herself. She was supposed to keep you safe and sound, she would never forgive herself if you were hurt. Steph was also furious, who dared to take you away from her? From all off them? You were her first sister and she wouldn't let anything happen to you. How would she ever pair you off with a cute dude/girl (that she had checked at least ten times over) on her wedding, if you weren't alive by then? How would she ever make your hair and make up for your first school-prom and glare (with her other siblings) at the boy (or the girl) who would take you? All those sister moments would possible never happen and alone the thought of that made her want to cry.  Harper felt extremely guilty. If only she'd been there sooner. If only she'd come in a car instead of the bus like she usually did... If only... All those scenarios went through her head, all of them ending with your safety, making her believe it was truly her fault that you were missing now. How could she ever forgive herself, how could her (new) family ever forgive her? If you won't come back, she wouldn't be able to stay anymore. Duke was not any better. He'd only had you as his sister for a short term of time but if anything would happen to you he'd try to kill everyone and then himself. You were his connection to the 'real'-life. You were keeping him grounded in this new (admittedly exciting) vigilante-life. How would he get through that without you? 

Bruce and Tim searched through every data bank and looked at the security footage from the area around your school, while the rest of the Family was strolling through the city, searching everywhere for you and Alfred was waiting for a blackmail call with conditions to get you back. Nothing. No call, Nothing. It seemed like you never left the school, but since Cass and Damian had looked through every corner in the school twice, that was impossible. Even though he knew that his Family could do a better job, Bruce was just about to call the Gotham Police Department, when finally: A call. It wasn't what they expected but still helped. Now Every second was counting.

(Back with you) 

You were shivering from fear as you sat in the room that was decorated for someone your age. Usually, you would have found it fantastic, but right now you wanted nothing more than to be back at home with your Daddy and your siblings. You had woken up in the trunk of a car, tied up, unable to move and still a little bit dizzy.

When the car stopped and you heard a door open, you closed your eyes and pretended that you were asleep. When the trunk was opened, the cold air surrounded you and made goose-bumps appear on your skin. They got even more intense when two soft arms grabbed you and pulled you out to the car, carrying you somewhere (you were too afraid to open your eyes). But before she was able to carry you far, you remembered something you Aunt Babs had once told you. It was a fairy-tale. Hansel and Gretel, who were brought to the forest with the intend off them getting lost, but they managed to find their way back through a trace they'd left. Not sure what else to do, you carefully ripped your bracelet (that you Dad had given you for the emergency, with his private and Mobil number engraved) off of your arm, trying to be as discreet as possible and let it fall to the floor. You could only hope it would be of some help. A few seconds later you were set down onto a bed, but you let your eyes closed until you heard a door close.  That's how you've found yourself in this room. You've already tried to open the door and the window (which was darkened), but they wouldn't budge. Tears welled up in your eyes and you curled up in one of the corners in the room, sobs shaking your body.  That's when someone opened the door. You looked up to see Miss Tanser staring down at you and for a second hope flooded you.  "I don't know what happened," you sobbed, sitting up slightly, "Please, can you please bring me home?" She smiled, ducked down to your level and hugged you, making you cry into her shoulder.  "But you are home, sweetie?" she said, almost hurting you with how hard she hugged you.  "What?" you squeaked and tried to wiggle your way out of her arms. "This isn't my home. My home is with my Daddy." She immediately let you go and moved back, staring at you with such a delusion in her eyes that even you -a five-year-old- could recognize it.  "No sweetie," she started and caressed your cheek, causing you to lean away, "This is your home. With me. Your Mummy." Utter confusion filled you.  "What? My Mummy is away with my Auntie's." Miss T chuckled coldly. "No No No. I don't know why you believe that. I am your Mummy. You've been taken from me for a while, but now we're back together and I'll make sure that you'll never be taken away from me again." You violently shook your head and made fists with your little hands.  "No! I wasn't taken away. I want my real Mummy and my Daddy," you cried, letting your temper get the best off you. You felt a sharp pain at the side of your face, causing tears to slip down your cheeks, not yet understanding that your favorite teacher had just slapped you.  "I AM YOUR MOTHER! AND UNTIL YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, YOU'LL BE GROUNDED IN YOUR ROOM!" she screamed and rushed out of the room, locking the door after her.  Crying, even more, you curled up again, falling asleep from all the drama and the exhaustion. 

You woke up from the sounds that reminded you off those movies that Jason always watched or those video games that Dick and Tim played. Scared, you hid under the small desk in the room, when you heard Miss Tanser scream: "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME! SHE BELONGS TO ME! NO ONE WILL EVER SE-" there was a loud thump and she stopped screaming, but before you could come out, another thump was hear-able but way closer and louder.  "Y/N?" you heard someone shout, followed by footsteps in the room. You tried to stay silent, not knowing what to do, but you couldn't hold back the small whimpers that escaped you. The footsteps got louder and you curled up, even more, closing your eyes when a shadow fell over you.  "It's okay, we're here to bring you back to your family," a deep, but a slightly familiar voice said. You opened your eyes and were greeted by the face of the one and only Batman. "Can you please come out?" You thought about it for a second but slowly shook your head. "Why not?" the hero asked you softly. "I-I want my Daddy," you whimpered scared. Batman sighed and raised his hand, causing you to flinch and close your eyes in fear. But, instead of what you expected, he spoke again, saying: "It's me, princess. Can you please look at me?" The voice sounded now exactly like the one of your father.  You looked up, expecting Batman, but seeing your Dad instead. "Daddy?" you asked confused. "You're Batman?"  "Yes. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't be here sooner," he said, his eyes slightly watery. Immediately you came out from the desk and hugged him as hard as you could.  "Shaqiqa," you heard someone shout and another pair off arms grabbed you and you were hugged. You looked up to see Robin look at you with relieve, but you only knew one person who called you 'Shaqiqa'. You raised your hand and put it on his cheek.  "Dami?" you asked and he just sheepishly smiled at your father.  "It's okay. We'll explain to you everything when we're back home, okay princess?" Bruce said, taking you from Damian and carrying you out of the psycho's house, careful to not let you see the riot that they'd caused in the rush to get you.  All of your siblings, even Bruce, decided to start your training now, that they'd never feel as helpless as they'd fell today. 

[thesilverdragoon]

The Cabinet of Curiosity

Previous: The Inn at Journey’s Head

"Word's come in that Holminster Switch is requesting a refreshing and a bolstering of the guard for a little while."

"Are they now?"

It had been fairly quiet for the better part of the day. Only a handful of soldiers had come in to be treated, leaving everyone at the Spagyrics with a little more free time on their hands than they were used to.

Not that there weren’t things to do still. Like cleaning (Chessamile would use the word ‘spotless’ most often, even knowing this was nearly impossible.)

"There've been reports of eaters coming closer and closer to the fields where their animals graze. The townsfolk are starting to get rather worried, I assume." Chessamile continued, brushing a stray lock of hair way from her face after wiping off her glasses.

Hanameen hummed aloud as she thought about the news. "And you're telling me this...why? It’s not as though I can go rushing out there to defend the town all by myself."

Chessamile had this almost wry looking grin about her as Hanameen went back to dusting the shelves. "Well, for starters, I've been seeing you eye those tomes as of late."

"And? What of it?" She paused, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.

It had to have been months since she last picked up any book of incantations, much less practiced them. It was a frequent enough occurrence. Life kept her and everyone else nearly scrambling all the time to make end’s meet as it was. She simply hadn’t the time.

"Aaand there's a good chance Gennar will probably be sent there as well,"

Just the thought of it made Hanameen's mouth crumple into a squiggle. She knew better than to get her hopes up.

But she just couldn't help it.

"I'm no good at throwing spells and what have you Chessamile, you know that. They need actually skilled people. You know. Skilled in fighting??"

"Well it would be as good as any a time to practice wouldn't it?"

Feather duster still in hand, she turned to face her, "Even if I did go, purely on your insistence, then who will watch the boys? I can't just leave-"

"Why I'd be delighted to watch them in your absence!" The old woman offered very dramatically, clapping her hands together. "They'll be so busy helping me they wouldn't have any time to wonder about much else. And far too tired to fight, certainly."

Hanameen chuckled a little at that, before turning away again. "Still… they'd be heartbroken if I-"

"Come now, they're not babes anymore Hanameen. They can survive several weeks without you.

With Gennar and the others there, the town will be relatively well-defended. Large scale attacks out that far north are rare, if they happen at all.”

Again Hanameen hummed with indecision as she mulled it over in her head.

It was true. With work and the boys, she hardly had any time to herself to practice magic, or do much of anything else.

While she held little interest in the more offensive side of magic-casting, she found the healing aspects of it to be far more useful to her own needs (as well as others.)

When was the last time she'd tried to cast any sort of spell? Well- months of course, but she hardly remembered anything that she did at the time.

Letting out a breath she cleared her head, searched for a target and then closed her eyes. Slowly she raised her hands and focused on a nearby flower pot, willing a barrier to form around it.

The air shimmered brightly and distorted, as though the pot were caught in a soap bubble that engulfed it entirely. But she couldn't hold it there for long.

With a sharp exhale, the magic barrier shattered and faded away.

Hanameen looked dismayed as Chessamile came and patted her encouragingly on the shoulder.

"So,"

"I don't know,"

She clapped both hands on Hanameen’s shoulders and bobbed her back and forth in a teasing way. "Geennnnn will be theeerree~"

Hanameen couldn't even stifle a laugh. "Oh stop! I would just get in the way and distract him,"

"Trust me, that boy NEEDS to be distracted by his own family if that's what it'll take for him to realize he needs to come home more often. It's ridiculous. Twelve years of this nonsense, running around out and about saving the world, doesn’t even remember to come home to care for his own children! Or falls right asleep the minute he does!"

"I know...but… well, he has an important job- they all do out there."

"Bah, men's all time famous excuse. Important job or no, he has children that need their father, and a partner who needs him.

...Or at the very least you could start scouting out someone else!"

Hanameen snorted rather hard as they both broke out into laughter. "Wicked white- Chessamile! Why don't you go instead? So you can look for someone you fancy yourself?"

"Ohh you know I would, if we didn't have so many of our own running in here covered in bumps and bruises and anything else they can think of, begging me to kiss them better.

Though, I could just wait for the Exarch's new companion to come back. Now he's quite a handsome looking fellow with those adorably round ears of his,"

Hanameen wiped at her eye. "Goodness, you'll scare him away with that devilish side of yours."

"I don't make it easy for them, it's true." Chessamile nodded with all the wisdom of a sage.

"I should go find the boys, see what they think about all this." The last thing Hanameen wanted to do was upset them by suddenly leaving without any warning.

Fenick wouldn't have it. And Arval? She didn't even want to think about it (and no doubt all the crying and blubbering that would ensue.)

"They might be more willing if their father is involved." Chessamile suggested, sifting through a crate of clinking, colorful medicinal bottles. "You know how much they miss him. Even Arval, despite him never saying so."

"I know," Hanameen nodded in agreement. "...I'll speak to them after supper.

You'll be all right here on your own this evening?"

"Of course!" Chessamile waved her off. "Go on now! And let me know when I need to start preparing a spot for them in my apartment! We'll have a wonderful time!"

"I will. See you tomorrow."

As Hanameen left the Spagyrics, she couldn’t help but feel that tinge of worry, tainting every other thing that would come to mind.

To just up and leave like that...

What if something went awry? That was always the danger of going out into the field. What if something happened to Gennar if she didn’t go? What if something happened to her if she did? As much as she trusted Chessamile and Fae-Hann and the others… well…

Fenick and Arval needed her.

But, Chessamile was right too, in that they weren’t as little anymore… And how would she ever find time to practice her own magic in order to build her own skills?

There were no easy answers. And she was loathe to bring it up to either Fenick or Arval to begin with.

As the Rotunda came within view, Hanameen sighed loudly, drooping with the sound as she frowned at the aetheryte swirling around in the center. It was quite mesmerizing. But she willed herself to stay focused.

Rather than head off towards the marketplace as initially intended, she turned and walked the other way, to the lower levels of the Crystarium.

It had been quite some time since she paid the towering vault that was the Cabinet of Curiosity a proper visit.

________

The library tower in the Trivium had always been something of a marvel unique to the Crystarium. Hundred- no, thousands upon thousands of books sat there in shelves that went all around the room in a circle. Ones that had survived the disaster of the time after the Flood from ages long past, all meticulously cared for by a handful of archivists and scribes who worked relentlessly to protect them. Not even the gilded halls of Eulmore held such a collection.

Or perhaps they did. But Hanameen wasn't sure if they had had their own library to begin with (would there be any time to read? Living a life of luxury? Surely there would.)

The place almost echoed as she pushed the massive doors shut, once again sealing the relative silence back within the library's walls.

The Cabinet of Curiosity it had been dubbed by the residents from long ago, back during the beginnings of the city when it had first been built.

And what a fitting name it was.

In the center stood a column with stairs that spiraled all around it and up to the very top, sectioning off different levels with even more books along the way.

Hanameen took a few slow and aimless steps, merely enjoying the feeling of being able to have a leisurely look around at all.

Inevitably, several tomes caught her attention during her browsing, and she pulled one off of its shelf. A dark blue book with gilded letters and gold on the pages, and a well loved ribbon-bookmark dangling limply from the top.

She remembered the book. It had been one of her favorites growing up.

Flipping through it brought back memories of palaces in faraway lands with magical gardens and lords and their knights- not unlike the stories she had read to Fenick and Arval a hundred times over.

Gennar had been somewhat of a gentleman back then. Somewhat. What with the holding doors open for her, laying his coat on puddles for her to walk over, inviting her to dance in that funny way he would try… The memories made her practically swoon. And she would have done so aloud, had she not shaken herself out of the daydream and back into reality.

That's right...incantations… spell books.

Clearing her throat awkwardly (it wasn't like anyone was watching,) she climbed the column stairs to the top level. "Moren! There you are!" Only to startle the hume librarian with short green hair in even greener-robes into dropping a whole stack of books he'd been carrying. "Oh! Sorry-"

"Hanameen! Wh- I didn't even hear anyone coming up the stairs! You haven't been back in some time," He scrambled to pick everything up, only to offer a sigh of thanks as she stooped down to help him. "Is Fenick growing bored of the same stories? I might have a few he may be interested in-"

"Oh, no it's nothing like that." She dusted off her skirt folds once Moren had righted himself. "I'd actually come to see what your selection of spell books was. I still have that beginner's guide that you let me borrow months ago, though I'm afraid I haven't had much of an opportunity to study it all that closely."

Once Moren had set down the stack of books onto a nearby surface, he put a hand to his chin, gazing upwards as he thought. "Other spell books? Well… I can tell you that all of the knowledge builds upon itself. If you haven't mastered the basics you might have a harder time with the others…

N-not that I would know! My skills lie in the preservation of antiques and old literature!! Not casting spells to send eaters to oblivion!

I assume that's what you were aiming to learn anyway?"

"Not exactly…

Holminster Switch calls for aid and Chessamile recommended I test my skills out in the actual field. Which...would be a much quicker and more effective way to learn but-"

"Learn on the job with eaters about?! She's mad that one!! That's dangerous!

And besides, who would care for Fenick and Arval??"

Hanameen let out a light sigh as she rolled her eyes. "I know- I'm in agreement with you there...but," Chessamile did have a point still.

"And she did offer to watch them while I was gone."

Moren looked slightly dismayed by the answer but held his objections nonetheless. "Well, if I were you, I would plan on studying every minute of the day just to even hope I stood a chance out there. For one minute even!

Let me see what I have…"

"I haven't decided yet, I was going to think about it tonight." She added as he motioned for her to follow him back down the steps to the floor below them.

There he perused through the shelves, plucking out tome after tome until he had another armful of books with him, letting them practically drop onto another nearby studying table (weren't you supposed to be delicate with old books?)

"You could branch off into these, from the one I gave you… If I'm remembering it correctly that is. I think I am."

Hanameen came forward, picking each book up and scanning through random pages.

"I think this will do. Thank you Moren."

"You're not going to lug all those out there with you? I suggest these, if you plan on it," He held two up out of the bunch and offered them to her, which she took.

"Well now if I wanted to be a big bumbling target I'd just tie a sign to my head. These two?"

"Yes, they review the basics well enough and delve into the more advanced aspects of barriers and such."

"Perfect! Just what I needed."

Moren looked relieved, at the very least. "Excellent then. Just...please try not to damage them, you know how finding copies is a nightmare."

"And since when have I ever not been careful with books?" Hanameen smiled innocently.

"Since Arval…" Moren muttered before hiding the comment with a cough. As if he could, from an elf. "A-anyway you'd probably best be on your way! You're going to have a lot of studying to do tonight!"

With renewed confidence Hanameen gave a firm nod as she turned to go back downstairs. "Oh won't I. Thanks again Moren, I'll be sure to bring these two back safe and sound! I promise!"

The hume nodded in return and gave a small wave as she left through the large doors and back out into the Trivium. Only after she was gone did he stop hiding the concerned look about his face.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 4 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thanks again for all the positive comments, likes, and reblogs.  Please know my messages are always open for you to scream about something to me.  Smut will come later.  I have to be in the ~mood~ to write it and I wasn’t in the ~mood~ .  Just know it will come later.

TW: mention of alcoholic parent

Morgan was back.  Bee told him he could come to her apartment for dinner.  She was going to cook fish tacos.  It was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Morgan’s two weeks in Vancouver were rejuvenating.  Though he’d been back during most of the summer, he had voluntarily decided to come back to Toronto intermittently to get some extra training with his skating and defense coach before training camp and pre-season started.  Being back in Vancouver always made him feel relaxed, tranquil, peaceful.  Being back in Toronto always made him feel diligent, industrious, energetic.  Two different vibes, but he loved them both equally.

And then he met Briony.  

Hockey had always taken up so much of Morgan’s time.  Even in the summers, he was constantly training so he could come back better than the year before; make more of an impact in a game he knew he could master.  Almost all he thought about was hockey.  Almost all he did was in relation to hockey.  Almost all he talked about was hockey.

And then he met Briony.

A girl that liked to talk about books.  A girl that liked to talk about Toronto.  A girl that liked to talk about her Master’s.  A girl that liked to talk about anything else besides hockey.

Was he guilty that he hadn’t told her about his job yet – or that she hadn’t figured it out?  Partly.  But it was a nice break.  So many people in the city – so many girls – would approach him, cozy up to him, bat their eyelashes and bite their lips at him because he was Morgan Rielly.  It was exhausting.  While some of his teammates revelled in the attention, soaking up every risqué DM, every eyelash bat, and every bite of the lip, he cursed it.  Not to say that he didn’t partake in the occasional eyelash bat, bite of the lip, or risqué DM – he was by no means a saint.  But for the most part, he just wanted to be left alone.  His mother had always commented on how much he liked to be alone.  Even his teammates always commented on it.  

He wasn’t that person.  It wasn’t his thing.

Then that damn book by Friedman happened.  Morgan always loved to read and his friend Jake would always tease him about how much he read on team flights or on the team bus, but he would always shrug it off.  But it was somehow Friedman that led him to somebody playing a prank on a girl and her accusing him of doing it.  And she didn’t know who he was.  He wasn’t Morgan Rielly.  He was just Morgan Rielly.

Why wouldn’t he want that?  

He knew he would have to tell her sooner or later.  He knew he could only keep the charade up for so long.  To be quite honest, he was surprised his supposed anonymity lasted this long.  He was lucky he didn’t get recognized in the restaurant in the first place, and even luckier that during the night at Cibo, Briony didn’t hear him say his name out loud to the hostess or hear Ben refer to Auston Matthews.  He was walking on eggshells and he knew it – but he also knew eggshells didn’t hurt as much as coal and he could walk on them some more.  

And now he was finally, finally back in Toronto.  The only other time he’d ever been this excited to be back in the city was for the start of training camp every season.  Briony had left him hanging before he left, having that make out session on her porch and then denying him saying he had a “flight to catch”.  Please.  He would have stayed up until the flight if it meant spending time with her.  

As he approached the old Annex house, he was overcome with a sense of urgency to see her.  He carried the groceries he promised he’d buy in both hands.  He remembered two weeks ago when he was here, on the same tree-lined street, except he wasn’t able to see its true beauty since it was night.  In the day time it was even more beautiful, the sun poking through the leaves of the trees, the faint sound of children playing in backyards, the hum of the cars on Bloor Street providing the perfect background music.  He could see why she liked the Annex so much, despite describing her own place as tiny and cramped.

He rang the buzzer like she asked him to, for Apartment 1.  He waited patiently for a response, watching the buzzer.  Soon, he heard the front door unlock and Briony’s head poke through.  “Hey,” she smiled immediately, giddy like a little kid who just found their parents’ candy stash.  “Come in.”

He walked into the foyer, painted an off-white, which had two doors – one leading to her apartment, he assumed, and one leading to the other that took up the remainder of the main floor.  There was also the giant staircase, definitely kept from the original house, but it had been painted over.  “How’ve you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been good.  How was Vancouver?”

“Marvellous,” he exaggerated, walking towards the door.  “Spent a majority of my time with Maggie, so, you know, that’s the best.”

When Morgan stepped foot into Bee’s tiny, cramped apartment, he smiled at what he was presented with.  It was small – Bee wasn’t lying – but it felt immediately, completely, like a home.  The furnishings were what he expected of any “starving Master’s student” as she referred to herself: a small two-seater couch against a wall; a storage unit opposite the couch presumably being used as a TV stand although there was no TV; a basic white L-shaped kitchen in a corner with butcher-block counters; tattered and worn hardwood floors, definitely original; one of those giant cubed shelving units from Ikea separating her bed from the rest of the space; a big bay window looking out into the leafy, tree-lined street.  He loved it.  He immediately loved it.

“Sorry it’s so small…” she mumbled as he slipped off his shoes.  

“This is great,” he said, still taking in the room.  “This is so great.”

“You don’t have to be nice,” she said.  With two steps, he was in her kitchen and setting the bags onto the countertop.  “It’s tiny.  And basic.  And to be honest, cold most of the time.”

“I love it.  So much more character than the condos downtown,” Morgan said.  He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.  “Seriously…I love it.”

Bee couldn’t bear to see the smirk on his face any longer.  He was too cute and too earnest about loving her small, antiquated Annex apartment that she turned her head back to the groceries and focused on the spring onions poking out so she wouldn’t break out into a blush.  “So are we gonna make these tacos or what?”

“Before we begin, there’s one thing I need to do.”

“Washroom?  It’s right over --”

“No,” he interrupted her.  He turned to her and held her face in his hands before leaning down to kiss her.  It wasn’t a small kiss either – no no – it was the same type of kiss they left off with two weeks ago.  When her hands rested on his arms, he moved his hands to her waist, slipping them underneath her shirt.  The touch made her press her body against his, and he used the opportunity to back her up against counter.  They kissed for a while, until Morgan deemed necessary, because Bee didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon.  When he broke the kiss, Bee’s eyes stared back at him, his body still looming over hers.  

“What was that for?” she asked, breathless.

“For leaving me hanging two weeks ago,” he said, taking his hands off her waist and backing away from her.  

She bit her lip.  The absence of his touch was cold.  “Touché,” she said, watching as he turned away from her with a smile on his face before he started to unpack the bags.  She turned away and bit her lip.  He had some nerve doing that to her.  “You wanna put on some music?” she asked, trying to forget about it.  If she kept thinking about it she wouldn’t be able to last the night.

“Music?”

“I can’t cook without music.”

Morgan giggled.  “Your neighbours must think you’re a delight.”

She rolled her eyes.  “It’s not like I blast Metallica.”

“What are you blasting then?”

Bee was proud of her taste in music.  If she could fall back on anything, or when she was stressed and thought ‘What the fuck do I even have going for me right now?’, the answer was always her good music taste.  She didn’t care what others thought.  It was one of the only things she had growing up, and it was hers to curate and hers alone.  “Have you ever heard of Born Ruffians?”

He snorted.  He couldn’t believe this was happening.  “Born Ruffians are one of my favourite bands,” he revealed.  He’d even given them seats to a few games last season.  Same books.  Same music.  What the hell was next?

“Seriously?” she was shocked.  She turned away from him because she was blushing again.  “Alright.  Born Ruffians it is then.”

Morgan watched as she started prepping the cutting board, chopping knife, and bowl.  She maneuvered around the kitchen with such certainty Morgan was intimidated to interfere.  “What am I supposed to do here, sweetheart?”

She looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised mischievously.  “Just sit there and look pretty, darling.”

Morgan laughed.  “No, seriously.  What do you want me to do?  I’m not the best cook but I can help…I don’t know, chop an onion or something.”

“Just sit back and relax…it’s okay,” she reiterated.  “I’m being serious.  Crack open the bottle of wine if you want to and pour us a glass.  I love cooking.  It’s my hobby.  But I don’t want anybody else in my kitchen bothering me while I cook.”

Morgan couldn’t help but smile.  She dug into her pocket and thrust her phone in his direction, not looking at him.  “Here.  Music.  Go wild.”

When all was said and done, Bee placed a plate of three fish tacos in front of Morgan, who had kindly set the table and was the perfect DJ to accompany her cooking.  By the time they actually sat down at her small coffee table to eat, they were half a bottle of wine in.  “There’s more if you want it.  I’ll lend you some Tupperware to bring home too.  Don’t be shy,” she said, crossing her legs to sit down.

Morgan took his first bite out of the fish tacos and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.  “Holy fuck,” he said, savouring the taste in his mouth.  He could see Bee had a proud smile on her face.  “What the…where…how did you learn how to cook this well?”

“I don’t know.  Trial and error, I guess” she shrugged her shoulders.  

“Fuck, I wish my errors turned out this good,” he mused.  “Usually it’s burned chicken or over boiled pasta.”

Bee snorted.  “How the hell do you over boil pasta?”

“Listen,” Morgan said curtly, only causing Bee to giggle more.  “Don’t trash my cooking skills.”

“You just trashed them yourself!”

Morgan thought about it.  Maybe the wine was already getting to him.  “Whatever, Briony.  You still didn’t answer the question.  How did you learn how to cook this well?”

He watched as she took a sip of her wine.  “Like I said, trial and error.  I’ve been cooking since I was ten.  There have been a lot of mistakes over these last thirteen years.  But I learn from my mistakes.”

“You’ve been cooking since you were what?” Morgan asked.  “I wasn’t even allowed near a stove…why?”

“Alcoholic mother, Morgan.”

He sobered up really quickly when those words left her mouth.  They hung in the air, but it wasn’t awkward.  Bee said them so casually, like her situation was normal – like it was normal a ten year old had to learn how to use a stove to feed herself and her mother.  “Briony…”

“Please don’t say anything dumb like ‘I’m sorry’.  It’s not your fault my mother was an alcoholic.  I dealt with it.  I became self-sufficient and stronger because of it,” she said.

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh…okay, sorry,” she blushed.  “I just…that’s all I’ve ever heard when someone’s found out.  It gets…I don’t know…tiring.”

Morgan shook his head.  “I don’t feel sorry for you.  We’ve already established I think you’re a badass because you were able to accomplish all this,” he motioned to the apartment around him and the food in front of him, “all on your own.  I was uh…I was going to ask you a question.  Since we’re on the topic…sort of.”

“Oh.  Of course.”

“It’s a bit…personal,” he warned.

“That’s okay.”

“When we went out to Cibo you mentioned your scholarships.  How…how many do you have?”

Bee smiled.  “I’m on four major ones.  I have the Richard Xi Grant from Rotman that covers $35,000 worth of my tuition, and a Rotman Academic Scholarship worth $15,000 that covers the rest of tuition.  There are two other grants that U of T offers that basically cover my living expenses – they’re $12,000 each.  One and a bit goes to paying my rent, the rest of the other pays for food, my Presto card, and any other expenses I might have, like my cell phone bill.”

“So you…”

“So I get by on just over twenty grand a year, but fourteen of that is rent…so uh, around six grand,” she knew his mind was calculating the numbers.  The wine was making it difficult, she figured.  “My tuition is fifty grand, but luckily that’s paid for.  There’s also what I earn from being a TA, but because I have the grants, most of that goes directly into my savings, thankfully.”

She knew from the way he hesitated he wanted to ask how much that was.  She didn’t mind sharing with him, because she was being open and honest, and he had been open and honest about the fact that he grew up in West Vancouver with membership at a country club.  She was starting to learn that they grew up in very different worlds.  Country clubs, wine bars, and private schools versus public housing, food pantries, and counting pennies.  

“Thanks for opening up to me, Bee,” he said, unable to find any other words to say.  He knew he sounded stupid but it was the only thing he could think of.  He was wearing an $8000 Rolex watch on his wrist and she was surviving on $6000 for an entire year.  The harsh reality was a quick slap in the face.

“Did you ever end up finishing Friedman?” she asked suddenly.  

“Yeah.  I finished it on the plane ride to Vancouver, actually,” he said, grateful for the change in subject.  “I didn’t like it as much as I thought I would.  I mean it was good, but like…I don’t know.  I was expecting more.”

“Me too,” she nodded her head, taking another bite into a taco.  “The only chapter that stuck out was the one I mentioned when we first met.  Everything else was just…blah.”

“I’ve moved on, too.  Well, trying to.  My mom recommended this book that is very much similar to Friedman, but I don’t know if I want to read it.”

“You should real Ali Smith,” Bee suggested, taking a small sip of wine.  “She’s like…my favourite author right now.  Well, she has been for years.”

“Why?”

“She’s just so good!” Bee smiled.  “Just…her narrative and her prose are phenomenal.  She is the absolute master of the dual narrative and I just wish someone would give her the damn Pulitzer and Nobel already.  She beyond deserves it.  You read fiction, right?”

“I mean, I can.”

“She is just…ugh, she is so good.  I know my brain is more analytical and into numbers but I think I forced it to be that way.  If I could have any wish granted it’s to be able to write like her.  She’s working on a series right now – this sort of post-Brexit set of novels named after the seasons – and I mean she’s only released two, Autumn and Winter, but my God the way that she’s writing and the way she’s tying storylines together, the way her words just punch you in the gut…I…UGH!” she exclaimed.  Morgan laughed at her outburst.  “You need to stop me now or else I won’t shut up about her.  Seriously.”  

“You seem to really like her,” he commented sarcastically.  

“Oh come on!  There has to be a writer that you love as much as that?”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders.  He loved reading, and his teammates made fun of him for it, but he didn’t really have a favourite author.  He didn’t really admire an author’s entire body of work.  Perhaps he didn’t read enough to be able to do that.  “Not really.”

“Okay, well, after dinner I can show you what I have.  You can borrow something…you know, if you want,” she added nervously.  

Morgan looked at her and said nothing.  He could only smile.  

The rest of dinner was spent with Morgan making googly eyes at Bee.  He couldn’t help it.  Whatever they talked about had him on his knees begging for her to keep speaking and he had to keep pinching himself for how lucky he was that this girl was sitting across from him, giving him the time of day.  Cooking him food.  Willing to lend him a book.  

He insisted on washing the dishes as she packed half of the leftovers into a container for him.  When she was done, she leaned against her countertop, finishing her glass of wine.  She watched as he placed the last plate on the drying rack before cleaning up the sink and washing his hands.  He turned to her when he was done, an undecipherable look on his face.  

She was getting nervous again.  She couldn’t believe he could make her feel this way.  “I uh…there’s a small dessert in the fridge,” she said, her voice barely audible.  

“No,” Morgan said plainly, shaking his head.  Taking his time, he sauntered over to her, standing right in front of her, his body looming over hers.  

She looked up at him, unable to breath.  “Hi.”

When he kissed her, he tried to take his time.  He tried to make it last.  But the attempt was futile, because the second he felt her body pressed against his, he was a goner.  His kisses became more frantic, more passionate.  He couldn’t help himself.  His hands slipped underneath her shirt again and he was shocked when she tugged at the belt loops of his pants.

“Let’s go,” she whispered hurriedly, breaking away from him and taking his hand, pulling him towards her bed.  

[missneko-otaku]

(*Writer’s notes: Hello~ It has been quite a while since I last posted a new fic. I have been trying (my very best ง •̀ω•́)ง✧ ) to give time for some writing and finally managed to do it. This was supposed to be my first attempt at writing a drabble but, oh well..hahaha ¯\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯ I failed miserably as you can tell. So instead, this is a oneshot fluff(?) for one of my favorite slbp npc characters, Tadakatsu. Well, we can say that this is probably my first fluff fic(if this is considered a fluff). Though I don’t really know if I did good in writing it XD

About the fic too, umm...(〃￣ω￣〃ゞ, this was just a sudden urge (I was sitting and just watching random youtube videos on my laptop when I suddenly thought of writing it).

I have been meaning for so long to write a oneshot fic for Tadakatsu as well, but during those times I was focused more on Yasumasa’s fic chapter series(which btw, is still ongoing).. But out of the blue, like what I have been telling you right now---for some reason I had the inspiration to write for Tadakatsu. The sudden idea came from, I think, tenka event? From Ieyasu’s event route, where MC, Yasu and the gang were there talking about mushrooms? I really can’t remember well. And Tadakatsu was excited wanting to eat those mushrooms so that he can experience an upset stomach, or something similar to that? Not sure. I just remember that part then I had the urge to write something about it. And that’s how this fic was written and made.

As always I am really not confident about my English and grammar skills, even my writing skills. I feel like I am still lacking. Though, I am really thankful and grateful for the people who have said otherwise to me.

Anyway, in case you see some grammar mistakes don’t feel shy to correct me or point it out to me (in a gentle and kind manner ^v^**) so that I can improve more. Thanks~ )

✼A Curious Person And Some Mushrooms (Tadakatsu x MC) (oneshot)

Ever since I have arrived here in Mikawa there is this particular person that for some odd reason would always catch my attention. And before I know it, I have become quite fond of him.

“What nice weather we have today~ You must be feeling happy right now Yahiko, seeing all the laundry will be drying very well under this weather.”

“Wahh!” I exclaim, startled by the sudden warm and pleasant greeting of Lord Tadakatsu behind me—almost making me drop the newly washed blankets that I am about to hang. I turn to greet him, “Lord Tadakatsu, please stop surprising people like that.” I say but clearly, he’s right. I’m in a good mood.

His eyes beaming as always like a ray of warm sunshine and his smile as innocent as the blue sky. I would have never thought that behind this naive and friendly facade lies such a curious, unusual persona. He loves being the catch basin of lord Ieyasu’s ire and sharp remarks. He enjoys being hurt physically too, I see it sometimes. At first, I was shocked by it but have come to gradually accept his strangeness.

“I thought so!” laughs lord Tadakatsu heartily and kindly. Usually, he is together with Lord Yasumasa and Toramatsu. But now, he is all by himself. I wonder what is he doing here strolling alone in the garden.

“By the way, Yahiko, do you have time after this?” says lord Tadakatsu, a bit sheepish which is new to me.

“Well, I do have some free time after this. Do you need help with something?” I ask as I fluff and hang the laundry so naturally on the clothesline.

His eyes bashful yet shining at the same time as he replies to me, “Can you come with me to the woods? Yasumasa nor Toramatsu wouldn’t want to come. I don’t know why they hate the idea so much and going alone seems boring too. So can I trouble you? We are going to pick and eat some mushrooms~!” says lord Tadakatsu with some delight.

“Mushrooms??” I ask, my eyes batting in a quizzical fashion at him.

“Yes~ I have been so bored for days. Nobody is paying any attention to me. Yasumasa would always tell me to shut up. Toramatsu, on the other hand, would be at a loss for words whenever I tell him something and would leave me behind. And the absence of lord Ieyasu is making it more difficult for me to bear. How I miss lord Ieyasu’s glare and..ahhhhhh..~”

Suddenly, Lord Tadakatsu starts hugging himself as he writhes in pleasure in front of me, reminiscing the past callous rebukes of Lord Ieyasu towards him. Noticing that I am quite not saying anything at all, just standing there with an uneasy expression that I don’t know that I am showing—he stops and starts to explain more.

“That’s why I asked Master Hanzo about my situation. He told me that perhaps I need a little adventure in the woods. He told me to go only by this route and pick some mushrooms the more unique in appearance, the better. Then, he said why to have a mini campfire party while I am already at it, roast some and eat it there. Enjoy the surroundings. And maybe, he said, maybe I’ll find something too.”

Oh...don’t tell me... Master Hanzo, what are you even thinking? I say in my mind with disbelief and half worried to this innocent-looking samurai.

“So Yahiko? Hmm??” chimes in lord Tadakatsu into my thoughts. “Will you?”

Gosh..how can I even say no to this adorable, sweet-looking face.

***

Finally, we are now in a small clearing that is located somewhere in the middle of the forest—filled with these “unique mushrooms” growing everywhere. Our faces, hair, and clothes in total dirty, disarray and disheveled state. I did not expect this at all. I don’t even know why the hell I carelessly said yes to this. Master Hanzo must be having fun right now, the thought that lord Tadakatsu foolishly took his advice and even managed to bring someone along with him would be such a fun sight for him. This route that he suggested is such an untrodden and dangerous path! I can’t think how many times we slipped, fell and got lost because of that damn untrustworthy piece of paper that was given to him as a map.

I knew it. Master Hanzo can be crafty sometimes.

“Here we are Yahiko, finally~” says lord Tadakatsu enthusiastically like nothing happened to us just a while ago. “I’m starting to really feel excited and ahhh~ I’m glad we came! That path gave us such a thrill too. Also, I can’t wait to taste these mushrooms around us.”

What to do with this man? I sigh. I don’t know if he knows how some mushrooms are not edible and are poisonous, that you CAN’T eat every single mushroom you see. You have to be familiar with them. Only a few are edible but most of them are deadly. I wonder if he knows that or is he just playing dumb? Or perhaps he just wants an upset stomach? Whatever the case, fortunately, I had time to prepare some stuff and some EDIBLE mushrooms before coming here, plus a small kettle and water for making tea later.

I pretend to go along with this ridiculous idea, pretending to be picking up these poisonous mushrooms. While on the other hand, lord Tadakatsu, with all his heart pick every single one he sees, his arm already full with such vibrant odd-looking mushrooms. I don’t know if he recognizes it as poisonous or not, but he really does seem to enjoy it. To be honest, I can’t help but feel really worried yet at the same time feel happy for him. Seeing him like this, I can’t help but find this ludicrous situation with him appealing and enjoyable. Plus he looks so adorable right now, like a big kid having his own fun—the scene, making me grin at him like a fool as well.

“Lord Tadakatsu, I think we have enough already. Let me prepare the ones you handpicked for us. I will prepare some tea too.”

“Thank you, Yahiko.” says lord Tadakatsu, you can really see the excitement in his eyes, and that he is really having fun.

“While you do that, I’m going to make some fire for us.” says lords Tadakatsu before going to the other side to prepare the woods.

As he does that, I furtively prepare the edible mushrooms I brought with us. Seasoning them well. When everything’s ready, we sit down in front of the fire, holding our mushrooms out and grilling them nicely over the fire. The smoky and delicious smell wafting through the evening breeze.

“Is it just me, or something is different about the mushrooms? Their sizes seem different from what we picked–” he examines it closely. A bit confused.

“Ha..ha..ha.. You are just imagining things.” I blurt with an awkward laugh.

***

We ate and finished everything.

We are now sipping hot tea under the serene moonlight as we observe the calmness and stillness of our surroundings. The sky seems to glimmer so much tonight. I unconsciously look at my side, the moon and the fire illuminating his handsome features that I never noticed before. A funny feeling comes over my chest which is weird. As I try to organize my thoughts, lord Tadakatsu speaks up, “Today I had fun Yahiko. Thanks to you.” He says as he glances my way, it is so sudden that I feel my cheeks reddening right away.

“Oh, I- It’s nothing. I didn’t do anything at all. It was Master Hanzo’s idea.” I say, my gaze faltering and I look away from him”

“That is not true, without you this short trip wouldn’t be as exhilarating and fun as I expected it would be. Being able to see your cute and funny reactions at every worse situation, how you would easily tumble so carelessly too, how we both got lost, got hurt trying to tread that path is just pure bliss to me. Ahhghh~ Don’t you agree? Yahiko?”

“And I get to eat your cooking and drink tea with you right now.”, then all of a sudden, his brows furrowing as if he remembered something, “But, it feels like something is missing, I am expecting this mushrooms to make me..hmm..I was sure I picked the weirdest ones..” he murmurs feeling confused. It is like he is anticipating something to happen to him.

I don’t know why but even though I should feel weirded out by what he is saying right now, there’s this part of me feeling happy and shy and also glad that I was the one he thought first to invite in this little outing in the woods. It has somehow felt to me like I am special too, in some way, to him.

A few moments of silence passes as we appreciate the stillness of things around us, my nose catches something delicious-smelling in the air. I look where it is coming from only to see lord Tadakatsu roasting something over the fire. As he makes eye contact with me, he excitedly speaks to me, “Ohh, do you still want to eat more? I have been saving this for the last. IT looks so ODD it may taste dangerously good~! But, what to do, I can’t give you this~” he says in a teasing manner, waving the slightly burned and fat, juicy looking mushroom on the stick at me.

As my mind is trying to register everything before me, I see lord Tadakatsu starts nibbling the newly cooked grilled mushroom. Hot and juicy.

Good heavens..! Don’t tell me what I am thinking is right..!

It has dawned on me that he must have kept an extra mushroom he picked earlier. He starts eating the half part, happily chewing the poisonous thing. Panicking, I stand right away. A loud sound of a clattering cup resounds in the air as I drop my tea and hurriedly run towards him, knocking him down onto the ground. He is sprawled out on the ground facing me who is somewhat on top of him.

“Spit it out..! Lord Tadakatsu, you should spit it ALL out..!” I say in a somehow worried yet commanding tone with a hint of anger, anger at his recklessness or stupidity.

“Wha– waahh..!?” he says in a mumble, his mouth still filled with chunks of the flesh of the mushroom. His arms flailing in defense. On his one hand, he holds up his precious mushroom in the air as he tries his best not to let it fall from his hand to the ground. He still doesn’t understand what is going on, he tries to stop my hands from reaching him as I try to make him spit out everything.

As he is about to gulp it all down—worried at what might happen to him if he ate it all—I instinctively grab his neck with one hand in a swift motion and my other hand—my right hand—force his mouth open. My fingers forced its way relentlessly inside of his mouth so that I can get all the chunky bits of that mushroom. Suddenly, I feel the sudden loss of energy from lord Tadakatsu. He suddenly stops flailing around me and a sultry, erotic moan escapes from his lips.

“Ahh-mmm~~” to my sudden shock, I remove my fingers from his mouth and slapped him hard on the cheek. Wha—– What the hell was THAT!!??

I am so shocked by his voice. The sound is so strangely inviting that it gives me the creeps.

I am still sitting on top of him, our positions looking odd and his face is writhing in so much pleasure that I instinctively get off of on top of him, scampering away from him.

Lord Tadakatsu slowly gains his breathing now that he is free from my hands. He is gasping for air for a bit and coughing out the remnants of the poisonous mushroom from his mouth. He sits up groggily, his right hand touching his neck.

I feel nervous, weirded out as well by lord Tadakatsu’s voice and at the same time guilty at how I was so forceful in getting that damn mushroom out of his mouth. I have to admit, I panicked too much. I should have used my head better. Thought more before doing something so horrible to him like that. But really, MC, he WAS eating a poisonous mushroom just seconds ago, you know. So, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD NOT PANIC ABOUT IT? I tell myself in my head.

Meanwhile, Lord Tadakatsu’s breathing slowly becomes stable. He then starts to talk, “Wha–why…Why did you stop??” he asks his voice a bit strained from all that happened but his face shows the opposite; it is like he was begging for more.

I was dumbstruck. So dumbstruck. I didn’t expect that…question…that reaction, at all.

Good. Just good, MC. Have you forgotten? It has totally slipped my mind that lord Tadakatsu takes pleasure from such things: being punished or inflicted…and in whatever manner, he likes it. He has that kind of strange, very strange side. Even though I thought that I have gotten used to it, still it shocks me a bit.

“I–, I… Wha–what are you even thinking!??” I suddenly say in a furious tone. I don’t know anymore what I am feeling. Mixed emotions are welling up inside of me. A mixture of worrying and fear, fear from him totally getting himself killed because of that stupid mushroom, and anger as well, all building up within me. I don’t know what I should do or feel about him or of the situation itself. I don’t know anymore how should I really react at this. I have known lord Tadakatsu to be really an odd person, I should have expected something like this. But for some reason, I feel angry and annoyed.

Here I am, my heart almost leaped out from my chest, I felt all my blood drain from my face the second that he ate that poisonous mushroom, worried that he might die on the spot. I was almost about to lose my mind here, you know. Yet he takes everything lightly, like nothing wrong is happening.

You just ate a poisonous mushroom!? And the first thing you would ask after all that strangling and panicking is why I stopped!?? Are you— are you kidding me? Is this a joke?

“Are you that bored..!? Bored enough to want to really try something stupid and kill yourself..!?” I snapped.

Lord Tadakatsu, suddenly becomes quiet, too surprised he doesn’t know how to react. Maybe because it is his first time seeing me get really mad and snapped at him. It is probably new to him, to see this side of me fuming so different from the usual happy, calm and understanding side I usually show to everyone.

The pleasure coating on his face before has now turned into something else: guilt. He is silent, looking a bit bewildered, like a kid being punished, feeling guilty somehow. He ruffles his dark grayish hair with his fingers, his eyes looking a bit apologetic, “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I couldn’t stop myself, you know. I had the sudden urge to eat that mushroom despite the fact that it may really be poisonous. And I’m sorry too. Before I know it, I couldn’t stop myself enjoying what you were doing to me. I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would really make you this upset…” he says, his eyes sincerely looking sad, similar to the eyes of a lost puppy.

Uggghh, again..that face..that naive face. I must be crazy right now.

I can’t help but let out a small yet long frustrated sigh. For some reason, whenever I see this naive side of lord Tadakatsu, I can’t help but give in to that silly face. All the exasperation that has burst out of me earlier is somehow gone in an instant. Like it melted away into the evening breeze along with my sigh.

****

Back at the castle.

We are walking, side by side in the hallway. All the retainers must be in the main hall and are probably having their dinner by now. The moon is round above the evening sky, illuminating every corner and area it can in the castle.

Feeling full because of the grilled mushrooms we ate together and with all the tiring things that happened to us today, I have decided to just return at my quarters and call it a day. I do feel very exhausted, my body feeling heavy already as I walk.

I take a glance at him and about to excuse myself when I notice that he is grinning, his eyes smiling.

“You really did enjoy and had fun today, huh? lord Tadakatsu.” I say to him, still walking side by side in the hallway.

“Oh, haha true~! I did. Is it that obvious?” he replies in a jolly manner.

“Well, you can’t seem to hide that big grin on your face. So I thought you must really have enjoyed that little (savage) trip to the forest.” I say.

“Haha, then I see that it was a good decision to asked master Hanzo. Like what he said, all I needed was a little adventure and it did satisfy the loneliness and boredom I was feeling. And he was right, in the end, I did really find something…I discovered something good.”

Hmm...I wonder what is it? Curious about what he is referring to.

“How about you? Did you have fun too, Yahiko?” he asks curiously as his head tilts slightly at the side.

“I–umm..well, I–somehow, in a way I think,” I say to him in a low voice. To be honest, I don’t have the energy at all to think about everything that happened today. I just want to rest my mind, just sleep when I get back in my room. But, despite the rollercoaster of emotions, mood swings that I felt in just a single day, I would be lying to myself if I said that the whole thing was huge exhaustion, a mess and that I didn’t enjoy it all. I honestly did have fun, maybe not the whole time, but I did enjoy accompanying lord Tadakatsu. And for some reason, I like the fact that somehow through this we got a little bit closer than before.

”*sighs*I am glad to hear that. That you had fun with me. I was worried that maybe in the end I was the only one enjoying it..” he says in a somehow meek expression.

Well, to be honest, the last part is almost true. He WAS the ONLY one who was enjoying the disasters that we encountered. To be honest, I am shocked, shocked that we made it alive and glad that nothing really serious happened to us.

“Don’t worry too much about it. I’m just glad somehow the trip turned….umm…well at the end..and that is enough for me.” I say making him feel comfortable.

Suddenly lord Tadakatsu stops walking, “Then..! Let’s do it again! Having a little excursion from time to time isn’t bad. And..ahhhhh…~~”, he pauses for a moment, then, “and those things…I look forward to it again, Yahiko…And please, you may get really mad at me as much as you want, and I wouldn’t really mind at all~” he says as he writhes in pleasure in front of me. Taken aback at this sudden twist of events, I freeze on my spot.

“Ahh~ I can’t wait..! I can’t wait to see you get mad at me again, and I can’t wait for those hands and fingers of yours to choke me again..! ahhh ..! That was so far the best experience I had for a long while...Yahiko, I didn’t really have any idea you had that kind of side in you…~ Pleaase..can you do it for me again? Do it to me again..I– I want to experience those grip of your—”

Before anyone passes by and hears him—and because he is really being too loud as well, making weird noises as he speaks—I am clasping lord Tadakatsu’s mouth with both of my hands without realizing it.

“Please, lord Tadakatsu stop…! I beg you, just stop and calm yourself. Why are you suddenly being like this? Someone will misunderstand what you are saying if they hear it..!” I say nervously as I look around us, afraid that someone might really hear him.

I thought for a moment that I finally managed to make lord Tadakatsu stopped from mumbling weird things. But to my dismay when I look at him again, it seems like I just added more fuel to his desire. He seems to be enjoying my hands clasping his mouth. I can see that weird blush getting more visible the longer I do clasp his mouth hard. So I removed my hands from his mouth and instead, I just decided to give up. Let him do or say what he wants. I don’t care anymore. Because the more I try to do something or stop him, the weirder he just becomes and harder to handle.

“I surrender. Fine..*sigh*. I give up. Have it your way or whatever, I don’t know anymore..” I say defeatedly.

I walk ahead dragging my feet—feeling all the remaining energy I have left in me escape from my body. And without looking back at all, I leave lord Tadakatsu alone there in the hallway—still in a trance from the mild pleasure he got from me clasping hard his mouth.

****

[motherwasapapafucker]

Strange Attractors Prologue: Fall Out

“We’ve done it,” The Doctor said with shock, studying the scanner intently as he saw Gallifrey fall away behind them. “We’ve actually done it!” he danced between Jamie and Victoria, spinning around them in delight.

“A canny believe it Doctor, your plan worked.” Jamie said with a wide grin that warmed the Doctors hearts.

“That was marvellous,” Victora said grasping the two in a tight hug. “The looks on their faces when you used the sneezing powder.”

The Doctor allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction, leaning on the console he plotted their journey out. He almost couldn't believe it himself, they’d escaped, he’d been waiting years, decades even, as he concocted a plan that made his previous escape from Gallifrey look like the hastily carried out farce that it was. Their arrival, awarded to him in a warped mockery of his previous life, had only pushed him to bring the plan into effect earlier than he had initially conceived. His handlers believed he worked best when supported by loved ones, they’d been right.

“We’ll be out of their immediate sphere of influence soon-enough,” The Doctor said glancing at the scanner. “The fog should begin lifting shortly.”

“Fog?” Polly wrinkled her nose in confusion.

“The memory blocks? Periods that exist only exist vaguely?” she shook her head and the Doctor turned to face Ben. “What about you Benjamin, how’s your memory, anything you can’t quite recall?”

“My memory’s fine Doctor?” 

“No spaces, absences of any kind?” he shook his head.

“Perhaps…” The Doctor pondered as he paced the room. “Perhaps they didn’t see the necessity in memory blocks for the lesser species, yes, yes, that must be it.”

“Lesser species!” Zoe gave an indignant cry.

“A turn of phrase,” he smiled at her warmly. “Please forgive me, you’ve spent enough time among my people to get a sense of their views on the wider universe. I sometimes forget I’m as much a product of those attitudes as any other Time-Lord, I fear my time among them has only increased my blindness.”

“I’ll say,” Dodo smirked. “They kidnap me and poor Helen to help you deal with The Terrible Zodin and don’t even bother to thank us afterwards! I’m not sure they would have taken us home if you hadn’t escaped.”

The Doctor paused mid-stride, glancing at his fellow escapees; Dodo Chaplet and Helen Mortimer, briefly unsure when his keepers had opted to pair him with the two. Seeing them again was an unexpected kindness, and despite their initial disbelief he was the Doctor, they had quickly become a dependable duo, helping him through the toughest months...years? Of his ongoing captivity. It must have been during the Zodin affair...regardless, their sudden reemergence into his life had helped push him towards escape.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “They don’t have much respect for the unlike. You may have gathered that from some of our ‘adventures’. He all but spat the word, what little he could recall clearly already disgusting him. “Intervening only when it suits them.”

“Still, some of the scrapes we got into, eh Doctor?” Steven said, giving him a hearty slap on the back. “Sontarans, Vespiforms, Players, The Embodiment of Gris, The Corsair and her sinister crew, hardly the underdogs of the universe.”

“And we all agreed that Tannis chap needed to be stopped,” Ian added, joining the pair. “Or were the Time-Lords wrong to intervene there?” The Doctor turned to give Chesterton a piece of his mind only to find Jamie staring down at him. “And you have to admit it’s nice that ye can actually fly the TARDIS now, control where we’re going an’ aw that.” The boy flashed a cheeky grin. Something was wrong here, who…who was he travelling with. He’d left...he’d left with Jamie and Victoria, or was it Zoe and Ben? Tony and Paula? They all spoke to him, voices echoing across the console room, always close by, but he only had two companions.

“You can’t really call it to control when your journey is already decided” The Doctor snapped, trying to fight through the fog, tiredness he’d been fighting off since his trial threatening to flood over him. He needed to focus, to ignore the distractions, only a little longer and he would be safe. “Or at least, that’s what I’ve always felt.” He flashed a weary smile at Ben and Polly, turning his attention back on the console. “And yes, we may have dealt with threats, made the universe safer, but safe for who? Whose interests were we really serving? For every Tannis there were half a dozen researchers whose only crime was being curious about their universe. We...I toppled tyrants at the behest of tyrants, never daring to challenge them in ways that really mattered.”

“Was I really so bad to work with?” Serena shot back, hurt dripping from her voice. “You’ve built our people into monsters, they could have exiled you, killed you even. Instead, they welcomed you back, allowed you to keep doing what you’ve always done, only with the support and comfort of home.” He’d seen her die, he’d had to tell her family, she couldn’t be here, none of them could.

“She’s right you know.” another, immediately recognisable voice said. The Doctor turned sharply, refusing to accept it’s presence. They wouldn’t, would they? Of course, of course they would. Only they could be so cruel. “Would you really abandon it all again Grandfather? Our people, our family?”

“Please don’t go!” John and Gillian chimed together, twin daggers piercing his hearts. “We almost never got to see Cousin Susan before you came back.” The Doctor rested his head against the console, cold surface and distant rumbling offering little comfort in the face of what he knew he had to do. They would never let him go, not really, not like this. It was a nice lie, one he wanted to believe in, but it was still a lie. With a cacophony of giggling grandchildren behind him The Doctor rose slowly, one hand dabbing his nose with a handkerchief while the other methodically worked the console.

Hands fell on his shoulder, Jamie and Victoria peering around him with a keener interest in the console than either had ever displayed during their time together. “Are you okay?” Victoria asked with lilting concern?

“Aye Doctor, whits the matter? No getting cold feet are ye?”

“Of course not,” he said with a clap, shoving past them as he moved around the console, working buttons and switches with lightning-quick reflexes, finally coming to a stop directly across from them, slow rise and fall of the column warping half their features. “I just wanted to take the time to say how much I value you both, I really don’t know that I would have survived these last few yea...well however long it’s been...without the both of you. When you came back, when they brought you back I should say, I was over the moon, you were a glimmer of hope in the dark.” He began working the console, quick glance confirming they were advancing on him. “I think they thought you would pacify me, make me softer, more willing to work with them, but they made a mistake there.” He savoured once last glance at their faces, as good an imitation as any. “I would never allow you to be trapped with them.”

“Aww gee it up Doctor, ye canny escape them.” Jamie said with a hint of anger, the two converging on him from either side.

“Jamie, Victoria...” The Doctor dabbed his forehead, jabbing a final command into the console with a grim smile. “Thank you.”

[sagara-megumi]

SasuSaku Month 2019 - Day 2: Patterns || [Fanfic] Family Ties - Chapter 1

Hello! Here’s my contribution to the SasuSakuMonth this year. It’s going to be a multi-chaptered story this time too (the last time I participated I wrote one too). I won't be using all the prompts since I'm going to be taking this opportunity to finish a story I started a long, long time ago.

However, before you start reading, you have to know that this story has a PROLOGUE and some NOTES that I strongly advise you to read before starting this chapter. In that prologue, Sasuke and Sakura are only mentioned so that's why, after asking the mods for advice, I left it out of the Month.

So, here's the link to it: Family Ties: Prologue (there are a few notes there that are important for the story).

.

Title: Family Ties: Chapter 1

Rating: T/PG-13

Words: 2475

Notes: There's not much to say here this time :) The following chapter will have a few comments related to some things stated in this one that I don't want to spoil beforehand XD

English isn’t my first language so if you spot any mistakes, please tell me. I hope that you enjoy it, and thank you for the notes in the Prologue ^^

.

CHAPTER 1

Akihiko contemplated pensively his image reflected in the coffee that filled his cup, while his mind replayed once and again Mikoto's words, her serious and sincere look, the slight trembling of her hands, as she told him her secret, something extremely fantastic that seemed conceived by the most twisted imagination. He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, which palpitated slightly from the tension and lack of sleep.

'The truth is that ... I haven't been sincere with you when I told you about me... It's true that I'm forty-one years old, that I work as a shop assistant in a department store, and that I'm divorced... But I'm not from the south of Japan... In fact, I belong to an old and extended family established here in Tokyo ... '

She had stopped for a moment, biting her lower lip as if unsure of how to continue, and the first thought that had crossed his mind was that she was referring to the yakuza. He had seen her swallow with difficulty, pressing the sheet against her chest, and take a deep breath, before continuing.

'We... are vampires...' she had looked at him in the eye, without hesitation, and he had felt a painful knot in his stomach, his heart suddenly empty, knowing that she was telling the truth. 'My ex-husband, my children ... and I ...'

“Are you okay, dad?”

He suddenly raised his head as his daughter put a plate with a few pieces of toast on the table. Already dressed in her school uniform, a dark grey checkered pleated skirt, a white shirt and a dark blue striped tie, and her hair tied in a high ponytail, Sakura was scrutinizing him with those intense green eyes inherited from her mother, showing clear concern. He sighed and shook his head with a small smile.

“It's nothing. I'm just a little tired.”

She smiled as she sat down in front of him and picked up a piece. She bit it and then took a sip of tea.

“And?” Akihiko looked at her somewhat confused for a moment, while spreading jam on his bread. “How did it go last night?”

“Well...” he had already thought about what to say in case that she addressed the subject. “I preferred to leave it for another time. Mikoto-san was somewhat distracted and she seemed tired. I didn't think it was a good occasion to bring up something so important.”

Sakura pressed her lips clearly disappointed. When she had come down, she had been expecting good news, but as soon as she had seen her father sitting at the table, thoughtful, she had known something had gone wrong. For a moment, she had feared that the answer to his proposal had been negative, but she had dismissed the idea immediately. She knew his character perfectly and that he had been meditating that decision until he was sure of everything, so much that she herself had had to give him a little push, openly asking whether she was going to have a new mother.

She half-closed her eyelids and swallowed. It was not something she was comfortable with yet. Although she had been orphaned since she was eight years old, the memories she had with her were strongly engraved in her mind, and she knew that it would take her a while to get used to seeing another woman standing and walking where she and her mum had laughed and played together, in the kitchen where she had taught her to prepare his father's favourite dishes or in the place she had occupied at the table and which had remained empty until then. But she understood that he should go on with his life, which had taken long to rebuild, after being completely dedicated to her upbringing and to supply an absence that, despite his efforts, Sakura had felt. And if he had found a good woman to be happy with, she would give him all her support.

“Okay, then” she smiled and leant forward, resting her arms on the table. “When are you going on another date?”

“Ah ... We aren't sure” he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and Sakura pursed her lips slightly, having the impression that something was wrong with him. “Mikoto-san is going to be very busy in the department store, being Christmas so close, you know, and we have to make all the end-of-year reports in the office. Probably, I'll have to work overtime... I was going to tell you that I'll be late many days...”

“Dad” the girl frowned and looked at him questioningly “You didn't have a fight, did you?”

Akihiko felt a small knot in his stomach. It was not a fight, but something that changed things between Mikoto and him entirely, and about which he had to think carefully because now, it was not only a matter of love. However, his daughter was sometimes too intuitive, another trait inherited from his first wife.

“Don't worry, it's nothing like that. And now let's hurry or neither of us will arrive on time.”

Sakura gave a little cry when she saw the clock on the kitchen wall, and tried to finish her toast in two bites, drinking gulps of tea to try to swallow it as quickly as possible.

“I resemble Naruto more and more each day...” she muttered as she picked up her plates and left them in the sink.

His father laughed softly and took the last sip of his coffee before following her.

“If you don't get to the station in time, tell me and I'll drive you to school.

“Don't worry, dad, I'm fine. Go upstairs to shave.”

Akihiko patted her gently on the shoulder and went to the stairs while pulling his tie out of his shirt pocket, and the young woman began to wash the dishes quickly.

'There's no way I can miss that train!'

.

The train reached the platform one minute after Sakura arrived. She had walked to her usual place, carefully calculated so she would be near where the door of the third carriage would be when it stopped altogether. Like every day, she came in after three salary men, a lawyer who was always talking on her phone right behind her, and she turned to the left, feeling delighted when she saw that her usual seat was empty. As she approached it, she tried to change her expression to a neutral one; she occupied the space and took a studied, distracted look to the side and then to the front, and had to fight the smile that was struggling to draw on her lips. There he was, as always, with his headphones on, his right leg crossed over his left one and his satchel on them, his arms crossed and the bored expression that seemed permanently engraved on his features. And diligently, Sakura pulled a novel out of her school bag and opened it by the bookmarked page, keeping her eyes on the words.

She had been following that routine for almost seven months, since one day she had woken up early and had decided, while sitting at the kitchen table, that she was bored waiting there for the usual time. She had taken a train fifteen minutes earlier than the usual one and occupied one of the free seats before raising her head and finding two impenetrable dark eyes studying her. Sakura had never seen irises like those, so black that the pupil could not be distinguished from them. They had only set on her for a second before turning towards the window behind him but at that moment, she had felt that they had borne into her and read all her thoughts. She had not been able to avoid a hot blush and, embarrassed, she had retrieved the book that she was finishing from her satchel and tried to concentrate all her attention on it. However, it had been impossible. Several times, she had thought he was watching her, but when she had secretly looked up over the pages, he was lost in his own thoughts. Without knowing very well why, telling herself over and over that she only wanted to see what it was that she had felt the first day, she had started to take that train. After the summer holidays, during which he had invaded her mind on numerous occasions, she had realised that she liked someone she knew nothing about, not even his name. She called herself stupid and immature, but the next day she walked to the station, got on the same train and sat on the ‘her’ seat.

Every day, her best friend Ino had tried to convince he to confess, or at least to talk to him, but she had flatly refused. From what she had been able to see, he was not very sociable, and she was not willing to make a fool of herself in a crowded car just to receive a boring or an irritated gaze, and then being ignored, as it happened once to a girl who had tried to approach him by pretending to lose her balance. It had been the last time she had seen her there. She only had three more months to enjoy his company, and she did not intend to waste them.

She noticed that curiously, more people than usual boarded the train at each stop, and soon all the seats were occupied, and briefly, she wondered why. It was not a special holiday anywhere, nor did she know that there was a festival in the districts through which that line passed. She remembered what her father had said about his girlfriend, and she supposed that some people were probably doing their Christmas shopping ahead. She stole a quick glance in front of her. The boy was busy with the buttons of his smartphone, some strands of hair, as black as his eyes, falling over his features, and she swallowed hard before lowering her eyes and counting to three before turning the page. She could not pretend to be a convincing reader if she did not do it seriously.

'It should be forbidden to be so handsome.'

She could not help but feel like an idiot once again, but sometimes, she could not control her own thoughts.

'And also being a stupid fan at seventeen...'

The train slowed down once again and entered a new station. Two more stops and she would have to say goodbye to her platonic love until the next day.

An old woman stood near her, holding on to a stanchion, and after a quick glance to see if someone gave her their seat, Sakura sighed inwardly and closed her book. She would have to bid him farewell before that day.

“Sit here, please” she said as she got up, kindness showing on her face.

“Oh, no, don't worry...”

“I insist” her smile widened. “Anyway, I'm getting off soon.”

The woman smiled then and sat down while Sakura stretched to reach one of the grab handles that hung from the roof of the carriage, with her back to the young man, happy because the strict regulations of her high school did not allow wearing skirts above the knee, reason why she did not have to worry about the possibility of ending up showing her not-really-fashionable underwear with red polka dots to the people around her.

“Thank you.”

The girl shook her head with an affable expression and then, lifted her head to look through the window at the buildings that passed quickly before her eyes.

Suddenly, a slight tingle ran down her spine and the thin hair at the back of her neck stood on end, feeling someone staring at her from behind, and she breathed slowly, knowing exactly who was there. She closed her eyelids for a second and again, filled her lungs with air. It was most likely her imagination playing tricks on her because not once had he bothered to look up in her direction during the time she had boarded the train after that first moment she remembered so clearly, and she was sure that he was not going to do it at that instant.

Her stop was announced through the loudspeaker and she headed for the door while she felt her smartphone vibrate in the pocket of her uniform coat. It was Ino. For a moment, the fleeting thought of letting it ring or hang up crossed her mind, but then, she would have to hear her complaints at school. Moreover, she did not use to call her at that time, knowing they would see each other in a few minutes, so it could be important. She picked it up and pressed the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

<Did you see him today?>

She rolled her eyes. She should have imagined her reason for calling. Overcoming the powerful temptation of ending the call, she clenched her jaw before answering.

“... Yes...”

<And was he still so handsome?>

“Ino, please...”

“Oh, come on, tell me the details, and that at least he's noticed that you were looking at him.>

The uncomfortable sensation of being watched had disappeared but it had been replaced by one much worse, the possibility of the conversation being heard by him. After all, Ino did not have the softest voice in Japan.

“Eh, now I can't speak” she said in a lower tone.

<Don't tell me you're with him!>

“Yes...” the speed was much slower and the people gathered around her, as the train entered the big platform of the station. “I can't hear you well, the train is stopping. I'll see you in a few minutes and we'll talk, okay?”

<Spoilsp->

She ended the call feeling a slightly perverse satisfaction for cutting her friend off. She put her phone in her pocket again and a small smile drew across her lips.

Ino and she had the strangest relationship ever. They had been going to school together since they were little and their families had been acquainted for a long time. They shared secrets and trusted the other blindly. However, they also argued almost every day, using the names that they had thrown at each other in one of their first fights. They were rivals and best friends, and they hated and loved each other with the same intensity.

The doors opened and without even casting a sidelong glance over her shoulder to see him one last time, as she had forced herself to do since the beginning, she got off the train, not realising that for a few seconds, dark pupils, with a slight reddish glow glinting in them, followed her steps.

TO BE CONTINUED