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chaptersleftunwritten · 1 month ago

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(6. New Years Eve and 11. New Apartment) For my ficlet event with Steve Harrington with hints of Eddie Munson! And yes… I did request this one myself , also! Feel free to send any prompts in with your desired character! Xoxo

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smoking, drugs… let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Apartment block 2, House No. 11

Your new home across the landing from a handsome stranger whose name you hadn’t acquired yet. He was sweet enough to help the moving men you had hired up the multi-storey stair case with your sofa and furniture— unfortunately you weren’t there to witness it. But you had been told.

You would always glimpse parts of his life as you walked by his front door. There would be laughter and noise coming from inside, groans of agitation when the sports games were on and live electric guitar being played throughout the supposing quiet hours of the day. Sometimes you could have sworn that you could smell hints of marijuana seeping in through your open window from the fire escape.

He didn’t seem like a smoker— but who were you to label him? You didn’t know him. Not yet.

It was New Year’s Eve and you watched from the comfort of your sofa as the night fallen city roared to life. People in glittering dresses and party hats. Empty beverage bottles and metal cans littered the streets and you watched drunken revellers sway and sing as they dragged themselves along the concrete below your window. The clock had barely just struck 8 p.m. and you would be lying if you said you weren’t shocked to see people celebrating this early.

However, maybe you were just feeling a little sour because you had nowhere to go. No party to attend. No friends to catch up with.

The joys of starting a new life in a new city.

You feed yourself the last bite of ice cream and as you set the empty ceramic bowl and spoon into the sink with a clank and bang that’s when you first hear the speakers playing through the wall. A thumping bass that seems to rattle every bone in your body.

In the stairwell you can hear people spilling into the apartment next door, not caring to keep their voices down as they pile inside. The masses grow and by 8:30 p.m. the place is packed full of sweaty, drunken fools bringing in the close to the year.

Dread settles within you and you find momentary solace on the fire escape, breathing in the fresh cool air— until someone else seems to feel the need to join you there.

“You must be the new neighbour! Welcome to the jungle.” His cigarette cherry illuminates his face and casts complimentary shadows across his chiselled bone structure. You try to pinpoint if you have seen him before, but your mind comes up blank. You don’t recognise his long, unruly dark hair and the black tattoos inked across his pale skin.

He seemed friendly enough, trying to spark a mediocre conversation with you. But you weren’t in a very talkative mood. You just wanted some peace and quiet. You wanted to be able to hear yourself think.

“Aren’t you gonna come and join the party? It’s New Year’s!” He exclaims as he flicks his cigarette bud across the railing and your eyes watch it as it plummets to the ground below. Still lit at the end.

Horror startles you into a frenzy as the man starts to climb over toward your perched body and you splay your hands out flat in front of you, “No, no! Don’t come over here— you might fall!” To your dismay and bewilderment, he makes it across to you safely and only now are you able to truly look at him in all of his Metal glory.

“M’ Eddie, by the way. Harrington’s friend.” His thumb shoots back to where he had clambered over from and at the confusion that crosses your face he laughs before crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his ringed fingers beneath his armpits, “Steve. Steve Harrington. Your neighbour?”

A newfound sense of clarity washes over you and you nod meekly, slightly embarrassed, “We haven’t been introduced yet, I suppose. It’s nice to put a name to a face.” You shrug your shoulders and Eddie leans lesuirely against the rusted railing behind him.

“Why don’t you come over then? Be all neighbourly and crash his party. I’m sure he would love to see you there.” Alongside the lilt in Eddie’s voice and the wide grin on his face it hinted to you that he knew something that you didn’t and it made you nervous but all the more curious to know what he meant.

You found yourself wondering what Steve’s apartment looked like. How it was decorated; what colours did he like? What colours did he hate? Did he live alone or was he in a relationship? Any pets? What did he do for work?

You were intrigued. So intrigued that you allowed this stranger to convince you to attend the party next door.

And when you walked in side by side with Eddie, you felt as though you had this gravitational pull that forced eyes to wander to you. They would settle on you for a second or two before they would drift back to whatever they were focused on before your arrival. It gave you a brief power trip. You felt desired. Welcomed.

“Hey, Harrington!!” Eddie used his fingers to whistle over the deafening music and the sight of Steve turning his heated gaze to settle on you made you want to melt into a puddle. His eyes were so warm and glossy— like honey. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost in them, “I set up this official meet, thank me later,” with a dramatic cough of his throat Eddie continues, “Steve this is neighbour, Neighbour this is Steve. Enjoy.” With a not so subtle wink Eddie disperses to somewhere located within the premises and you are left standing with Steve. Finding yourself rather jealous of the volume in his hair.

“It’s nice to meet you— finally.” He smiles down at you and you fight back a blush. You were meeting him under totally normal circumstances however you were still quite flustered by the fact that you hadn’t introduced yourself before now. It had been a few weeks and you hadn’t spoken to one another; not even once. You felt you could’ve insulted him— you thought of yourself as rude.

However, with Steve’s soft demeanour, you were led to believe otherwise. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as you.

“It’s nice to meet you too! It’s strange how formal Eddie made it but I’m glad he invited me nonetheless.”

“I was going to invite you,” a sheet of panic washes over Steve, “I just wasn’t sure if you were the type to enjoy parties…”

Excuses, excuses.

The actual reason he hadn’t invited you was because he thought you were cute— gorgeous, even, and he was a bit too bashful to just come straight out and talk to you. He knew that a party invitation could have been a good ice breaker, but he was also aware that it could have made him out to be a total jackass. And that was the last thing he wanted.

“I get it, don’t worry! I’m here now.” You’re smiling up at him, much more relaxed than you were before, and Steve settles into your presence like a you were a friend he had known for years. He liked you. You were polite and respectful.

“So, any New Year’s resolutions? Mines is that I should definitely stop drinking so much beer.” It made you giggle as you watched him finish off his can of Bud and you tap your index finger against your lips, lost in a beat of thought.

“Mines would be that I should talk to my neighbours more often— I met one of them recently and they seem to be really nice. Hopefully he stays that way.” You were proud of how your confidence had sky rocketed within the last 10 minutes and Steve wiggles his eyebrows at you knowingly.

“I’m sure he’ll remain that way. Especially since his neighbour is a total heartthrob and a sweetheart.” He blamed the alcohol for his flirtatious forwardness but he couldn’t help it. Not with you looking up at him like that.

You shake your head as you laugh, scanning around his living room for any signs of an untouched drink, “If he play his cards right he might end up with a New Year’s kiss at the end of the night— but first, I need a drink. Have you got any?”

He nods a little too eagerly and your heart swells and swoons in your chest. You were kicking yourself at the fact you had left this interaction untouched for so long. What were you so afraid of? Steve was like a puppy dog.

“Wait here, I’ll go and grab you one from the fridge.” You watch as he swivels and swerves through the sea of dancing bodies and you keep your feet planted exactly where they were on the hardwood floor. Excited for Steve’s return.

Beer pong, shots and drunken charades had all been filtered in throughout the night. 12 a.m. was fast approaching and the adrenaline flooding your veins at the thought of stealing a kiss from Steve left you buzzing with happiness and nerves.

You eyed him from across the room, admiring his black suit jacket and his perfectly styled hair. You watched as he interacted with his friends and party guests— so kind and nurturing. It only cemented your agenda.

As soon as that countdown began, you were running to him. And luckily for you— you didn’t have long to wait.

“1 minute everybody!!” Someone screams from your side, their voice bellowing in your ear and grabbing your attention. Your heart flutters in your chest and as you look back over at Steve you are pleasantly surprised to see that he is also looking at you. You chew on your bottom lip in anticipation, all girlish and excited for what the near future holds.

“10…” You freeze as the chant begins.

“9…” You prepare yourself, setting your cup down on a random flat surface.

“8…” You feel like your heart is beating outside of your chest.

“7…” Steve’s hands twitch with longing and you watch his face contour with nerves.

“6…” You are making your way over to him, your feet are quick against the hard and slightly sticky floor.

“5…” It’s a fight against bodies and time, and Steve is quick to try and meet you through the crowd.

“4…”You begin to fret that you won’t make it to him in time, sandwiched between a couple who are already making out.

“3…” Steve rounds the couple and takes your wrists into his smooth but massive hands.

“2…” It’s all eye contact now. Unwritten permission being asked.

“1…” You nod feverishly. And in a blink of an eye Steve’s lips are on yours as chaos ignites around your stilled bodies. His fingertips trace and tangle through your hair as he cups your face closer to his. Your shaky hands steady themselves on his broad and plump chest and you struggle to breathe as you devour one another.

“Happy New Year!!” The crowd scream but you and Steve remain unmoved and entangled in one another.

It really was a Happy start to the New Year indeed.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #chapters ficlets #my ficlets #ficlet #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fluff

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silume · 2 months ago

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A Feysand Ficlet (Rated M)

I wanted to write something for @officialfeysandweek but couldn't write anything that completely fit the prompts so this is what we ended up with instead. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

You can also read this on AO3.

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Sometimes, when they found themselves bare and slick with sweat, Feyre would slip into her mate’s mind and stare up at the ancient shields she found there. Black iron gates, endlessly tall and thick and rusted shut with age.

Let me in, she would whisper.

And they would always open. Every time. Always for her. Anything for her.

The Lord of Night’s mind was a strange place. Old and dark and twisting like an ever-changing labyrinth. And yet she was always welcomed forth with the most loving of embraces. Her mind cradled like a precious jewel. A baby bird. Treasured and fragile.

My love, his mind would whisper to hers. My mate.

It made her feel powerful, having this terrifying, ancient thing open up to her and show her its belly.

You’re mine, she would whisper gently, stroking against his mind with the greatest care. You’re so good. So strong. So compassionate. No one understands how much you care. But I do. I see every part of you and I love them.

And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court and the nightmare other courts whispered about in the dark, would shake and shiver and lay his throat bare for her.

And Feyre, the once-human, would take him in hand the same way her mind would his, caressing and working him into a frenzy until his body was taut and his thoughts swirled with pleasure.

Come for me, she would command.

Yes, he would always agree. Only for you.

He was, after all, helpless to deny her anything.

And she would watch him stain her skin with his essence the same way his mind would press and push and envelop hers. Desperate to be close to her. To own her in a way no one else possibly could.

The same way she owned him.

And always would.

#feysand fanfic #feysandweek2024 #acotar fanfiction #feysand ficlet

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blacktofade · 1 year ago

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Seems like you like gemtho, I just wanna tell you that they bickers a lot on the decked out lobby (etho teases gem about her bad rng of keys and etho immediately gets the taste of his own mockery), etho saying gem is great and more that I don't remember. They're so silly

I ADORE gemtho!!! I've been having the time of my life watching all the DO streams seeing them interact! Etho gets so giggly and it's adorable! Also sorry this took me a little while to answer. I wrote a nasty little ficlet for the girlies (gn) based on the stream moment where Gem keeps hitting Etho and they're running around together.

---

Gem’s still laughing, hand outstretched to try to hit Etho again when he grabs her by the elbow and pulls her into his Decked Out room.

There’s a pinching at her shoulders when she’s shoved against the shrubbery near the doorway, but it’s muted by the surprise that hits as Etho slips his mask down just enough to lean in and kiss her.

He’s smiling against her mouth, hands tight on her upper arms, holding her steady for the brief moment where she can’t even remember her own name. And then in a rush, she realizes what’s happening and how much she wants it, and she brings her hands up to clutch at his face in case he dares to think about pulling back.

He’s more insistent than she expects as he nudges her backward, harder into the shrubs, his hands dropping from her arms to tug at her skirt, rucking it up with an unbridled eagerness.

She feels changed knowing what it’s like to have Etho slide his palms up her bare thighs while pushing soft noises into her mouth.

He’s so desperate and it makes her feel powerful.

“I need you to stay quiet,” he pulls back to whisper, eyes bright, almost feverish, and it must be contagious because Gem feels it in her chest, burning bright.

His fingertips slip into the elastic waistband of her underwear, pulling with the kind of intent that has her glancing over her shoulder. If anyone comes close, they’ll be spotted, but being in Etho’s corner keeps them from the majority of prying eyes. No one probably even knows they’re back there, though she can still hear voices, laughter, coming from near the dungeon entrance.

“Etho,” she exhales as he sinks to his knees, dragging her underwear down with him, and he taps at one of her boots and then the other to make her step out of them.

“Quiet,” he reminds her, and then hooks one of her legs over his shoulder and eases himself beneath her skirt.

It’s probably worse that she can’t see his face and doesn’t know what to expect, because her whole body jolts at the first exploratory press of his fingers against her pussy.

She reaches down, grabbing at his shoulder as he holds her open with two fingers and rubs his thumb across her clit.

“Etho,” she gasps as loudly as she dares. “You —“

She doesn’t get to finish the thought because then Etho’s mouth is on her, hungry and unrelenting, and she stares at the ceiling, face so hot she wonders if she’ll survive long enough to come.

He eats her out as though he’s been thinking about doing it for weeks, as though he’s been waiting for her to step away from the crowd so he can get her like this.

His tongue is devastating, as quick as it always is when he speaks, and he shoves his face forward, as though trying to get as close as possible, to be able to lick into her.

She feels insane from it, still reeling from the fact that Etho wants her like this, that he's maybe thought about things like this while they've spent long, exhausting days together, taking turns in the dungeon.

Etho always emerges from his runs with a frenzied look in his eyes, especially when he's successful, when he escapes with new treasures to show off. And sometimes he'll still be breathing hard when he looks at Gem and accepts her congratulations, and it'll send a shiver of something down her spine.

She rolls her hips, just thinking about it, and she can't stand that he's hidden.

She pulls her skirt up, needing to see, and it’s easy to curl her fingers into his hair and tug, getting him to pull back, the lower half of his face wet — from her, she realizes — as he stares upwards with hooded eyes.

He looks blissed out, like this is all he’s ever wanted to do, and she lets go of his hair to card her fingers through it instead.

“You were made for this,” she whispers to him, and he nods as though she’s asked a question.

She slides her hand to the back of his head and pulls him forward again, using her other hand to spread herself for him.

The noise he lets out buzzes against her clit, and she bites her lip to keep from groaning, part of her wishing they were elsewhere, somewhere more private, so they could listen to each other.

She wants to hear him moan.

His hand shifts on her thigh, two fingers nudging at where she's so wet and easy, slipping inside with barely any effort and giving her something to squeeze around. And she does — around his knuckles, enjoying the way he fills her, wishing it was his cock instead.

She can't stare down at Etho for long, it's too much to bear, with his mussed hair, the way he's flushed up with his enjoyment. But he holds her gaze when she does, jaw working as he takes her apart, and she moves her hand away from herself to trail one fingertip across the bridge of his nose.

There's a bump there, maybe from where he's broken it a few times over the years, the cartilage not setting right. She's never seen it before, always covered by his mask, but she thinks it suits him.

He moves his head, dropping down until his nose is pressed against her, that beautiful bump brushing her clit like he knows, always too observant to not drive her insane.

"Etho," she whines as he gets his tongue back on her, and she can feel his smile against her pussy now, and she's spiraling.

He pumps his fingers slowly into her and never once looks away as she clutches at his shoulder and shakes apart under his mouth, coming so hard she's almost afraid her knees will give out.

And even then he doesn't stop, not until she pushes at his forehead, spent and bordering on overstimulated, needing him to ease up.

He turns his head, stubble rasping against her skin, and trails kisses along the inside of her thigh until he eventually reaches her knee. Carefully, he guides her leg back to the floor, smoothing down her skirt, and Gem’s whole body trembles.

Wiping his face with one hand, Etho grins up at her, and he looks so pleased with himself that it makes Gem want to ruin him.

She pulls at his jacket, dragging him to his feet, his breath ghosting over her as he laughs before she silences him with a kiss. He tastes like her, but also him, and Gem can't get enough.

She slips a hand between them, rubbing the front of Etho’s pants, where he's hard and probably aching, and all she can think about is dropping to her knees to return the favor.

But before she can, Etho reaches down, grabbing her wrist and holding her steady.

She looks at him questioningly, raising both eyebrows, and he smiles again.

“You can help after my next run,” he tells her and Gem’s mouth opens, unable to stop the laugh from bubbling out.

“Etho,” she says, and Etho cups her face with his palm before leaning in to kiss her again. It’s surprisingly sweet this time, and he laughs against her mouth once more before he pulls away, nudging his mask back into place.

Somehow, he looks the same as always. His hair is a little flyaway, but she doubts anyone would suspect a thing.

He adjusts himself in his pants and she can’t help but shake her head in disbelief.

“Are you going to wish me luck?” he asks her, stepping back toward the box where he keeps his shards.

“No, because you’re the worst,” she lies, stooping down to grab her underwear from the floor. “How about you have these as a token instead?”

She moves closer, slipping the cotton briefs into Etho’s pocket, grinning at him because two can play that game. Etho’s eyes shine like he knows he’s made the right choice.

“Have fun,” she says. “You know where to find me when you’re done.”

#gemtho #dont read at work #thing wot i wrote #fic #lovely anon #answer #hermitshipping

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tinyhistory · 4 years ago

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Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

#draco/harry fanfic #drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry fic #answered asks

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gatheringfiki · 3 years ago

Text

The following ficlet was written by @linane-art based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

---

Fili strutted across the workshop and did what he did best: supervised.

Under his watchful eye the last of the pre-Christmas frenzy was playing out nicely: sacks full of presents were being loaded onto sleighs; long, curling lists were being read out loud and ticked; and hoards of Santa’s Little Helpers scurried here, there and everywhere in a manner that was generally, most definitely beneath Fili.

Not that Fili minded the Elves, as such. They kept him in business for toys, bowed respectfully and got out of his way when the Prince of the Realm wandered through their halls. But they had no meat or treats to share, relying instead on a meager diet of mainly green things, and their pets were weirdly delicate and much too soft to be properly satisfying.

Besides, he had a reputation to uphold; he couldn’t be seen fraternising with the minions.

Because yes; Fili was that most elusive of all things: the Santa Cat.

(He had the cape to show for it and everything)

Now, to some that had the rare privilige of meeting him, this came as a surprise – Fili never understood why. After all, in his world there were such things as the Death of Rats and Various Other Deaths of Various Other Things. So why should there not be a Good, Feline Spirit, delivering little parcels of joy (and occasionally contraband catnip) to the Deserving Little Kittens?

The World had its laws and who was Fili to argue with those?

He sat at the very edge of the open gates to the giant warehouse that encompassed their Operation and neatly curled his fluffy orange tail over his front paws.

“No side hustles now, Fuzzball,” said a pair of sturdy, highly-polished black boots that arrived next to him, presumably also to stare dramaticlly at the snow-covered landscape before them. “I know what you’re like: one little shiny thing –“

“Meow,” Fili scoffed indignantly. It wasn’t even the first time Boots had him mistaken for Billie, aka their resident Santa Labrador, or Santador, for short. He was beginning to wonder if the Jolly Old Man was getting too old for his job.

“Alright, alright. But just remember that we’re on a tight schedule. We’re expected.”

“Meow,” Fili agreed, managing to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He spent his entire life being expected and managed to meet those expectations just once or twice. (Hundreds. Hundreds of times.) You’d think he got the gist of things by now.

In front of them, the stars twinkled enticingly, as the juvenile creatures of the furry and non-furry varieties performed their various pre-bed rituals and went to sleep.

---

Kili was ready.

Or as ready as he could possibly be. The tree had been up for several weeks now, during which time, through sheer determination and ingenuity, Kili had managed to explore, pacify and destroy it several times. If it was to be used as a hiding spot, Kili knew All Its Secrets.

He patiently tugged off and squirrelled away any bling that obscured his view or simply annoyed him, until the lower, most accessible branches bore less than half of what the humans had initially put on them.

He meowed loudly until the cookies (disgustingly-smelling and weirdly crumbly – Ceiling Cat only knew why they bothered) and the milk (at least they managed to get that right) were left out in place. He even tasted the milk himself to make sure that it was sufficiently creamy, cold and delicious. (It was. The testing process took some time).

Finally, he also resisted the urge to have any zoomies whatsoever in the last week, so he was all ready and charged up for when all that pent-up energy was going to come in handy.

Because Kili had seen the Signs.

There had been two distinct paw-prints in the snow outside last year that were most definitely not his own and smelled of Other Cat.

Obviously, they weren’t his. Kili loathed being cold and wet, which was all the things that the horrible white flakes coming down from the sky insisted on being. He would never voluntarily set his paw in the stuff. (There was that one time he fell off the window sill, but he shot right back in so fast that he was fairly certain that nobody saw that.)

And then of course, there was the Evidence itself.

Exhibit A: several new toys with fluffy bits for chasing, buttons for chomping on and a distinct smell of not-Kili’s-home-ness about them. One of them even squeaked when pounced upon just so, and that was a new and fascinating new feature for him.

Exhibit B: Even better, various perfectly-sized boxes appeared out of nowhere, littering the carpet in a string of convenient, defensive positions for Kili to explore one by one. They came with glorious, crinkly paper that could be summarily killed and shredded, and several lengths of shiny ribbon that snaked its way through the whole mess, like some sneaky enemies for Kili to kill.

Exhibit C: His humans cooed and awwed as Kili bravely fought his battles and offered ready pets once he was done with the slaughter. This was so unlike his experience after the Defeat of The Shitty Roll that Kili almost suspected a trap at first. When none materialised, he benevolently curled up on top of a lap made available to him, allowed himself to be scritched behind the ers just so, and pondered the Magic of Catmas.

But the very next day he started Planning. There had to be a Reason! (Things usually came with Reasons, even if those Reasons weren’t always immediately aparent to little black kittens. Their identification was a part of the much discussed Learning Curve, Kili suspected).

The point was: Kili was going to discover said Reason, pounce on it, pin it nice and firm with his deadly claws and demand that the Reason feature in his life a lot more often.

Yes. He was going own this Reason. The Reason was going to be his bitch by the time Kili was through with it.

… All of which was going to happen just as soon as he’s had his nap.

---

Fili sat on a low branch and considered the red house before him.

This was the house in which a little black kitten lived. Fili knew the kitten. Of course, he knew all the kittens he was delivering presents to, but he’d seen this particular little black kitten fall out of the window once, land in a heap in a pile of snow below and scramble right back up so fast that there were little claw marks left in the plaster to this very day.

It had been very funny.

The little black kitten, Kili, he remembered, fascinated him somewhat. There was a whiff about him of –

Well, he smelled of Other Cat of course, but it was more than that. It was funny – he smelled funny. As in: odd. Nice. But somehow odd.

Fili licked his paw. His jellybeans were getting cold. It was Time.

Other Santas may have attempted entry through the chimney. That was the traditional, time-honoured way, that only rarely meant that someone caught fire, on the account of a very reasonable assumption that the humans would actually use their fireplace it to keep warm in the dead of the winter.

But that wasn’t why Fili wouldn’t be using a chimney.

Fili was a cat, and therefore he was contractually obliged to be an aloof individualist, who made his own way, even if said way was incredibly awkward and frought with problems. He was a Trailblazer! He spat in the general direction of the Conventional.

He was also cream-coloured with some ginger stripes and licking that much soot out of his fur would have taken him until the next Yule season.

No, Fili was going to enter through that little white-framed window right in front of him.

Using his natural Defiance of Physics, he slowly, gracefully saunteered his way up the wall, before gently placing his paw against one of the panes. The little lock unlatched itself, probably out of the sheer reverence for his Person (Fili never quite worked out how these things did that, but he accepted it as the least he deserved nevertheless).

He slipped inside on silent paws.

Ah, yes. Everything was as it should be:

There was the kitten. Asleep in a tangle of red beads, tired by his exploits, out like a candle.

There were the disgusting round things that Boots insisted on having, lined up neatly on a plate.

There was a glass of creamy, cold milk left out for him. (Fili would have preferred to lap it up out of a saucer, but he was still working on having the humans grasp that concept.)

… And there was a chain of fascinating crinkly balls hanging from a branch right across his way.

… It looked like it would feel so good to just gnash on one of those.

… Maybe he could even pull it down, rip it apart.

He took a step towards it.

No! He had to focus on the job at hand! The little sooty-coloured-ball depended on him! He was expected!

Fili carefully resisted the siren call of the garland, giving it a wide breadth, in case it decided to slip all by itself and dangle right in front of him.

He landed softly on the carpet.

He sashayed his way towards –

THERE WAS A TRAIN.

THERE WAS A TRAIN AND IT ATTACKED HIM.

It came out of nowhere, drove right over the very tip of his tail, derailed and started spinning its viscious little wheels right at him.

Fili shot four feet into the air, yowled in sheer outrage and scrambled up the nearest vertical thing he could find right to its highest parts.

There were some casulaties, not least of all his pride.

The baubles and chains rained down in slow-motion on the unsuspecting kitten, like popcorn out of an uncovered frying pan.

The first gingerbread man had, miraculously, missed the kitten. But the next finial wasn’t quite so lucky; it struck its pointy end into the carpet less than an inch from the kitten’s nose.

Fili watched, with some degree of curious fascination, as Kili’s eyes flew open, before the little soot-coloured ball doubled in size, attacked the teardrop shape, as well as all the other shapes that came at him out of nowhere, rolled around with several of them across the entire width of the carpet before finally coming to a stop right at the foot of the tree.

It was only there, tail like a wirebrush, that Kili noticed the gargoyle in the dangerously tilted tree.

“Mew,” Fili said, meekly.

One of the annoying little bells slid to the very end of a bent branch and clattered to the floor with an entirely unnecessary rucus.

The little hazel-green eyes went as big as saucers.

“Meow-meow-meow,” Fili amended, remembering a more jolly and period-appropriate greeting.

“M-Meow?!”

“Meow,” Fili confirmed and very carefully shifted his weight to spread it a bit more evenly between three very thin branches. The tree tilted a couple more inches to the right.

He supposed that being in a Christmas tree on a Christmas Eve wasn’t an entirely inappropriate place to be for a Santa Cat, thank you very much, even if he was some three extra limbs and one prehensile tail short of feeling comfortable in it.

“Mew! Meow meow meeoooow mew? Meow?” Followed a predictable barrage of questions.

Fili sighed. He supposed it would be easier to show the kitten. Besides, the tree was by now swaying precariously under his weight and there were needles poking him in places where no needles should be allowed to poke.

He jumped haphazardly into the tangle of branches, taking down any surviving ornamets, but landed majestically on the carpet among the deluge of greenery and glitter. His grace was a gift. His poise was a skill. His agility was –

Behind him the tree, now unsupported by Fili’s Defiance of Physics, gave up the fight with the sneaky forces of Gravity and came crashing down to the floor in a sad pile of snapped branches and shattered baubles.

Fili did the only sensible thing he could do under the circumstances: he started licking his fur back into some semblance of order.

Kili stared at the carnage in ardent admiration. He then did something very kitten-like (no concept of personal space whatsoever with the young ones) and came closer to give him a curious sniff.

Fili, who was, after all, a Good Spirit, (and a very patient one, he might add) headbutted his forehead in response and gave one glitter-covered ear a friendly lick.

And then Kili went for the pom-poms. The two snow-white, perfectly round pom poms tied together to hold Fili’s cape in place, that were his pride and joy! Fili’s personal pom-poms of Santa-ness!

Those pom-poms.

The sheer cheek this kitten had –

Fili growled out the warning that loosely translated to ‘touch them and die!’

Kili touched them. He swiped at them with his paws, making them bounce up and down right under Fili’s chin.

Fili slow-blinked and considered if one could still be one of the Spirits of Christmas, if one had blood on their paws.

Instead he opted for bribery, just this one time. He padded back to the windowsill where he’d left his little sleigh parked –

“Meeeooooooow??!”

Of course Fili had a sleigh. He was a proper Santa Cat. It was Fili-sized and packed with presents for good little kittens. Fili pulled it himself (he’d tried employing a team of mice, but they had a terrible habit of scurrying in every whichever direction, until he was forced to eat some of the more unruly ones), or rather, it sort of followed him around, presumably out of some sort of sense of obligation and loyalty that Fili’s person doubtlessly inspired.

There was some debate about whether Kili had indded been a ‘good little kitten’, but at the end of the day anything was better than having his personal pom-poms mauled.

Fili tugged one little bundle out, smiled at the familiar sell, and carefully pushed it across the carpet towards Kili.

The kitten sniffed at it, sneezed, taking himself a solid two paces back, and promptly fell over. Fili grinned at him benevolently and helpfully swiped at the toy to send it bouncing closer.

So that was that. Fili had done his job and the kitten had his present. In fifteen minutes he’d be so stoned he wouldn’t remember his name, nevermind getting to meet the actual Santa Cat. And even if that didn’t work out and Fili ended up somehow 0.0001% less powerful than before because he was now known about rather than believed in, there was nothing to be done about it.

The baubles were cast, as they say.

“Meow,” the kitten said with determination, abandoning his new toy.

Fili stared at him.

It was absolutely out of the question. The wilderness where Fili lived was a harsh, unforgiving land. The hunting was hard and the snow hares were fast. There were merely several warm hearths to choose from and a meager army of servants who catered to his needs. He didn’t even have the exclusivity on them. Socialising opportunities were limited and usually involved Lesser Species, that was to say: other Santas. And Boots was – well, Fili was almost entirely certain that he wasn’t devoting nearly as much time and attention to him as he should have been.

It was practically neglect. Neglect and poverty. A fight for survival, almost.

It was no place for adventurous little kittens, who may or may not become excellent companions and fellow mischief-makers in the future.

“Meow,” Fili told him sternly.

“Meeeeeooow!” Kili demanded. And then he did that thing with his eyes that only cute little kittens were capable of pulling.

Fili narrowed his own eyes at him.

“Mew,” Kili added for good measure.

Fili considered the safety of his pom-poms and monopoly on being doted on againt the sprospect of gaining a new pal.

And then he realised what was that odd thing about his smell: Kili smelled like him. Not exactly the same, of course, but he smelled similar enough that they could both be mistaken for being one of a kind.

Kili neatly curled his black little tail over his front paws.

Fili capitulated and flopped to one side against his sleigh. His own, personal Santa-Cat-In-Training (it wasn’t like he was going to get the full priviliges on day one, oh no! Not on Fili’s watch! He could maybe, at most, pull Fili’s sleigh. If he behaved.) came to him trustingly and nudged a space for himself against Fili’s side. Fili lifted one white-socked paw, held him in place, and started licking him clean.

They had places to be. They were expected. It was only fair that they looked the part.

#Gathering 12 Days 2021 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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umbrahighpriestofgiratina · 3 years ago

Text

Umbra Plays Legends Arceus Final Bonus: Legends Arceus Snippets

So as usual here is a compilation of all the ficlets. ALL OF THEM. The more plot focused spin was fun to do and I hopeyiuenjoy reading this collection here:

Legends Arceus Snippets

Evithyan had no clue what she was doing here.

This being, Arceus, had approached her, given her an Old Earth cell phone touched by their power, and tossed her into a world full of creatures called Pokemon, in the body of a human teenager no less.

This made no sense. Pokemon were part of an Old Earth mythology. Humans were extinct. Vaespar had -

- She was supposed to be dead. Worse than dead. But she was here, in this strange land called Hisui.

At least these Galaxy people had taken her in. They almost didn't. That captain of theirs with the stony face almost tossed her out for her to die - again - so the Pokemon could pick at her bones. But she impressed them by capturing several of the creatures in those tiny magic balls they gave her.

There was one Pokemon she had acquired, the first. A "Cyndaquil", they called it. Evithyan had dubbed her Tanya. She was warm, and affectionate. She felt that they would go far together.

-----------

Evithyan was a strange human, Tanya had decided.

She seemed confused by things the other humans didn't, and she was unafraid of the wild Pokemon of Hisui, who had long drifted away from human and Pokemon Vows of old.

But honestly? Tanya liked that. Evithyan may be lost and confused but she has the guts to take on the tasks of that silly human organization and their "Pokedex" head on.

She felt that they would go far together.

-------

Evithyan was beginning to get to know these people a bit better. She had done various tasks for this Galaxy society, gotten a start on capturing, battling, and studying the Pokemon of this land. Capturing a frenzied alpha Kriketune had earned her the respect of one pokemon called Wyrdeer, which eventually let her ride him.

(She could feel the Wyrdeer knew her true nature, but he was not about to divulge.)

She also had made the acquaintance of the Diamond and Pearl clans, Hisui's true natives, and their leaders, Adaman and Irida. They had constant religious debates over their chief deity Sinnoh, and whether its primary domain was of time or space. Evithyan had met and even befriended enough gods to know that the answer was likely more complicated, and that the whole thing was potentially ludicrous and petty. But she wasn't about to tell them that. It was their religion, not hers.

At the very least both Clans needed her help - one of the Pearl Clan's nobles, a sacred Pokemon called Kleavor, had been whipped into a frenzy, and Laventon had whipped up a means to quell it. But it seemed powerful...

Evithyan had been relying on Tanya a good deal this whole time - she had even transformed into another Pokemon entirely, Quilava, which seemed stronger. But she also had recruited a scrappy Psyduck she had nicknamed Grace to the cause. Could Grace help against this "Kleavor"? ----------

Grace was a PIRATE. Sure she had been washed in a bit far inland but it was about the spirit, the swashbuckling, the ADVENTURE. And what ho! She had found a human just as washed up as she was!

They were about to fight a Noble, the humans were saying.Nobles have riches, more riches than anyone else. They were ripe for the taking.

She would just hope she and her new crew could pull the weight.

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

This beast was more imposing than any Pokemon Evithyan had ever seen - even the Alphas couldn't compare. It glowed gold in a way that was eerie and unnatural.

She was snapped out of her observations by the creature letting out a buglike hiss and charging her.

At first all she could do was run, wait for openings for her to throw balms as the others had instructed. It hit her a few times, almost took her out at one point. But then she observed it colliding into rocks and trees trying to charge at her and being momentarily stunned, and she got an idea. She styarted luring it into position, getting it to hit itself again and again, until once it was particularly stunned...

She sent out Grace.

---- It was Grace's time! Time to plunder this golden noble's treasures! She swung at it, casting a flurry of bubbles from her hand...

And was met with a Stealth Rock that knocked her flat. She tag teamed to another member of her crew....

-----------

Tanya knew this wouldn't be easy. But fighting this Kleavor was an important mission for her Trainer. She had to pull it off... Or at least create an opening.

She hardened her body like a rock and charged into it with a Rollout. It roared in agony, then sliced at her with another Stealth Rock that ALSO knocked her flat. But she had succeeded in creating an opening for...

-------

Granfaloon was the legion. Granfalloon saw all. This noble was nothing to him.

He lunged past its axe-like arms and hit it square in the face with an Aerial Ace. It roared in pain.

Now the true opportunity was nigh.

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

Evithyan tossed another balm. And another. And another. Until finally Kleavor's posture relaxed, the glow faded, and it gave her a look of utter relief. It rummaged until it pulled out a strange green plate, then handed it to her.

A strange reward, but she'd take it.

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

Evithyan was met with praise when she quelled the Kleavor. She had finally earned Irida's trust, and her actions were celebrated back in the village.

A small child talked to her in the dead of night and was not so assuaged, however. She claimed an evil spirit had been let loose and its will-o-wisps needed to be collected. Evithyan did not trust this girl, but felt she had to deal with the situation and started collecting wisps, along with helping villagers with other tasks like rounding up Bidoof, using Geodude to make pickles, and finding out why Zubat doesn't have eyes.

She also met a girl named Arezu, who seemed a cheerful sort but seemed to want to have words with Kamado. Evithyan was considering seeing what was up...

Along the way she had captured a Scyther, who she had dubbed Gloria. Gloria was a rambunctious, bold sort - she'd fit in on the team fine.

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

Gloria had no clue humans were such weaklings.

No wonder the Noble Kleavor she lived near had humans tending to him. The humans were acknowledging his superior strength.

Hmph. Gloria would be stronger than him one day. And perhaps this human could help. She seemed stronger than the others. Had bested Noble Kleavor. Carried other strong Pokemon with her.

Gloria and this human and her other Pokemon companions would forge a path to victory.

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

Evithyan had met a strange girl named Arezu, with a strange request: To quell an Ursaluna in the Crimson Mirelands. Eviyan ended up needing to prove she COULD by stealing a sacred slab back from a group of thieves (and getting a Unown stuck to her in the process) but she succeeded in taming the beast known as Ursaliuna. But it seems her work was not yet done - Arezyu needed her help because Ursaluna's frenzy had been caused by another beserk Noble Pokemon, Liligant...

In the meantime there were two new developments with her team. Thanks to a rock she had acquired from a felled Graveler, Gloria was now Evithyan's own Kleavor. And she had also acquired a Teddiursa she named Relina - she suspected she was related to Ursaluna somehow...

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

Relins was the star of her clan, or at least she thought she was. The Alpha Ursaring that guarded them gave her a run for her money but she didn't like to admit it.

But now she was with these humans. They were annoying, but they could help her become an Ursaliuna, thus surpassing the Alpha Ursaring...

...Even though this Gloria, a Scyther who thought she was a better mighty warrior than Relina was, had evolved first. Hmph. She'd show her.

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

Evithyan thought the creature before her was almost... cute, at first. A graceful little dancer.

Then it lunged at her and she remembered precisely what she was dealing with.

It dropped from above and sent out pulses that wracked Evithyan's whole body even as she tossed balms. Eventually she fell to her knees.

No... no she couldn't fall here.

She got up, started leaping and ducking and weaving over the pulses. She and the Liligant were locked in a fevered dance, each trying to out-compete the other.

At one point it was almost too much. Evithyan almost fell again.

But she was so close.

A last, defiant flurry of balms. The liligan's posture finally relaxed,. Its glow faded. It bowed, and handed her a green plate.

Sheepishly Evithyan realized she should have asked her own Pokemon for help.

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

After Evithyan quelled Noble Liligant (and rose the research ranks some more) she got a new request - to aid one Pelina of the Pearl Clan in the Cobalt Coastlands. Evithyan found Pelina and two utterly adorable Hisuian Growlithe mourning the Noble Hisuian Arcanine of old. In an attempt to get to a volcanic island off the coast, she got a Dusknoir for a timid man named Iscan - who turned out to be Pelina's secret lover. But in taming the Basculegion Iscan tended to the Miss Fortune sisters made off with one of the Hisuian Growlithe pups, and Evithyan and Iscan were forced to pursue them to the volcano. Once there Eviothyan bested them, and the other Hisuian Growlithe soon joined her, having swam across the ocean it once feared to do so, and evolved shortly after. Evithyan's reverence for the creature's determination turned to horror when it was corrupted by the same force the other Nobles were. It was then the gravity of what Evithyan was facing sank into her.

These Nobles weren't being randomly afflicted. They were being targeted.

In the midst of all this, several of Evithyan's Pokemon had evolved, and she had obtained two new team members of note she thought she'd keep handy. One was a Petilil with a strange sort of sparkle to it and a more yellowish coloring than others of its kind, named Ivy. The other was a sluglike creature called Goomy, named Gwendolyne. They seemed like they'd serve her well.

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

Ivy wanted a peaceful existence in the swamp, extending kindness to others. But her kindness was often rebuffed. She was too yellowish, too sparkly. But this human didn't seem to judge. She seemed pleased by it actually. But this human also thought Hisui might be in danger. Was she up to the task?

-----------

Gwendolyne was the most steadfast guard of her little swamp of the swamp, and would defend it with her life. She hadn't counted on this human pouncing on her. No matter. Apparently this human was facing new alien threats to Hisui, and she'd take them head on.

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

This was what hellfire was like, Evithyan decided.

The Hisuian Arcanine's flames licked and spat at her as it charged her repeatedly. The order of events became a blur. Several times the heat almost became too much.

No. She had fought through worse.

She charged it and flung balms as it charged its fire tornado, stunned it, and sent out Grace to attack.

-----------

Normally Grace would be pleased to plunder another Noble Pokemon, but this one had only just evolved and was ultimately a child. And she had a soft spot for children. But if this would save rather rthan hinder the pup...

She blasted the Arcanine with Water Pulses. It roared, chained two Rock Slides into each other, blasted her away. She needed backup, and that had to be...

--------

Gloria had no conniptions about hurting this child. Gloria knew it was for the greater good at least, but Gloria also knew if she proved her might as a noble others would find her strong,

She slammed the Hisuian Arcanine with her Stone Axes, over and over, leavi ng an opening for...

----------

Relina was disgusted with Gloria. Doing this for honor and glory? Ridiculous. She did this to defend her team, her clan.

She Bulldozed the Hisuian Arcanine, bringing it to its knees, leaving it with an opening for Evithyan to hurl yet more balms.

----------

It was done. The light faded into the sky. Hisuian Arcanine was at ease.

Now Evithyan just wanted to get someplace colder.

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

After Evithyan quelled the Noble Arcanine, - and receiving guidance from what seemed to be the ghost of the previous one - she, Pallina, and Iscan went their separate ways, but not before she had to console Irida. Shortly after she went on a quest to nab lost satchels to earn enough "merit points" to get a special stone to evolve Ivy into a Lilligant - though one of a different color than the one she faced before.

Soon after she got a call (from a very odd man) to quell yet another Noble - a Hisuian Electrode. The Noble's warden objected to her intervention but Adaman vouched for her, even getting her to prove her worth in a battle against him, after which the warden begrudgingly obliged. Evithyan was shocked that Adaman seemed to respect her so much...

...And worried it was ill placed.

She had failed once before, after all.

Even if she mitigated the damage in doing so, It had cost her her life.

----------

Evithyan finally rose her research ranks enough to set out to the Coronet Highlands, assisted by an "adopted" Pearl Clan warden who came from beyond time and space much like she did - Ingo.

Her and Ingo set out to find a Pokemon called Sneasler, but Hisuian Electrode's warden Melli actively resisted help and impeded their progress. Nevertheless, they pushed on and found Sneasler, which Ingo loaned to Evithyan so she could traverse sheer cliffs.

Evithyan was impressed enough with Sneasler's prowess that she became determined to acquire one of her own, and eventually tracked down and caught a Hisuian Sneasel she named Gib. However she found that Gib would not obey her commands... She would have to find a way to earn her trust.

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

Gib was ABOVE a loser like this human.

This chump thinks she can waltz in, smack her with one of those weird balls, and act like she was the queen of this liveblog? Fat chance, the queen was her.

She was only four stars in her measly little research organization. FOUR. Gib knew that in order to be a real Gamer Girl you needed at least FIVE. Then maybe she'd listen to this "Evithyan."

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

Evithyan felt like she had forgotten something.

She had captured several Pokemon, including an Electabuzz for her team named Barbra, gotten to a five star rank in the Galaxy Team, collected satchel upon satchel upon satchel to mget items to evolve Gib and Barbra...

...Oh right.

There was that Noble Electrode problem.

....Well, let's just get Barbra's evolution item first...

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

Barbra wasn't sure what to think of these humans at first. They walked funny, talked funny, smelled funny, weirdos all around.

But she soon discovered they had one interesting secret: their technology.

The ball that had captured her was interesting enough - it was surprisingly cozy and could be exited and entered with ease - but there were all sorts of knickknacks and doodads she could toy with.

And as a bonus some of them were filled with tasty, tasty electricity.

She could get used to this.

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

What a strange, angry orb this was, Evithyan thought.

She didn't have long to ponder it. Said orb immediately sent electric shocks and its exploding brethren at her, and she had to dodge and run from them asd best as sher possibly could, a few hits causing her to almost keel over.

But when it let off a particularly big explosion - which Evithyan had to get very far away from- That's when it was vulnerable. That's when she sent her team out to fight.

-----------

Tanya didn't like the way this Pokemon was looking at her. And it was threatening her trainer and all of this mountain, so.

She let loose a Flamethrower that caused it to recoil and spin, leaving an opening for...

-----------

Barbra was in her element.

Delicious electricity, everywhere. Pokemon resembling the strange technological orbs humans had. She had to beat them up, but oh well.

She had learned a new move from the human dojo from this at least...

She frosted her fists and slammed the Electrode with an Ice Punch. Then she did it again.

The Electrode listlessly rolled toward Evithyan for the final assault.

----------

Several balms later, the light possession g Electrode faded. It's permanently angry face paradoxically gave off happy relief. It dropped a Zap Plate for her in thanks. Evithyan was starting to wonder what all these Plates were for...

---------

After Evitrhyan quelled Noble Electrode, Ingo revealed he had recovered some of his memories - memories of a world where humans and Pokemon existed in harmony. Adaman asked Evoithyan if she was from such a world, to which she replied "no" - her world was very different and had none of these Pokemon.

Still, a world where humans and Pokemon lived in harmony - was it possible? Could she, of all people, really achieve it?

In any case, the final Noble awaited - a Hisuian Avalugg, in the Alabaster Icelands. Evithyan and her team prepared for the cold...

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

Evithyan headed to the Alabaster Icelands, where she met up with Irida, Adaman, and a man with bizarre chest hair. The man with bizarre chest hair was initially unimpressed with her, but after a battle told her she needed a Hisuian Braviary to nab the Eternal Ice that would impress Noble Avalugg. To get the ice she would need the assistance of a Hisuian Braviary, under the care of one very tiny child named Sabi. Sabi led her on a chase through all the icelands, up to Snowpoint Temple, and then challenged her to multiple battles before she earned the right to use Braviary and nab the ice. Evithyan started getting her affairs in order for the fight ahead...

Along the way Evithyan picked up a Riolu named Hazel and a Hisuian Zorua named Luciana, who both quickly evolved. They would take some raising up to catch up to everyone else, but she felt they'd be valuable additions to the squad.

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

Hazel didn't get all this.

She was a simple girl, living a simple life in the mountains, until this human waltzed in. And the human's other team members were... strange.

But if there was one thing she knew it was that if something was broke, you fix it best you can. And something in Hisui was broken, and these weirdos were trying to get to the bottom of what.

So she may as well help.

----------

Luciana didn't know this human's deal.

Surely some wild Swanna chase chasing down these overwrought Nobles was a waste of her time. She was doing it out of the goodness of one's heart she supposed. Ridiculous.

She knew the only proper motivation to do things was spite.

That said, she was more than willing to stick around. Amusement was also valid, and this human and her team were most definitely... Entertaining.

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

Evithyan continued to prepare for the fight against Avalugg.She started by getting Luciana's training to a satisfactory level - via fighting lots of Kadabra and assorted other Pokemon- before finding one Craig and giving him a Ponyta to establish a new camp in the Snowlands. She then gave a Croagunk to a Galaxy Team nurse to help cure backaches, upon which the nurse mused that a center for such human and Pokemon healthcare would be ideal. Evithyan at least hoped they could get there, and felt she had at least taken a step in helping.

She also helped Arezu use Misdreavus and Kirila to experiment with new hairstyles.

She also discovered in another supply run tio Tao Hua he was holding a grudge with Choy over... Marrying his grandaughter? Evithyan didn't get the humans of this world sometimes.

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

Evithyan marveled briefly at the size of this massive creature.

Marvel turned to terror as the creature started spitting snowballs and icicles at her in complicated patterns.

Initially, she floundered and flailed in the face of them, several times almost fell to them. But then she got better at dodging and ducking and weaving through the patterns.

Eventually, it fired a beam that had trounced her before. She leapt over it. And used the opportunity to send out...

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

Luciana knew this massive thing could probably knock her out in one shot.

She didn't care.

All she cared about was hurting it as much as possible. She fired the Shadow Ball that did a good job of that, and when it floored her with a blast of ice she casually invited her partner in crime to do the rest.

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

Gib thought this Avalugg was chump change. The chumpest of changes. And no way was a chumpest of changes of a boss gonna hinder her or her team's progress through THIS game.

She lunged and clawed, and clawed at it in a Close Combat as her human partner continued to hurl balms.

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

Finally it settled. The Avalugg's glow ceased. It looked to her and dropped an Icicle Plate in thanks. Evithyan knew this was the blast Noble...

...But her work in this world didn't seem done.

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

Once Evithyan quelled Noble Avallugg she, Adaman, Irida, and the Wardens had a pleasant conversation, and Evithyan reported back to the village thinking their troubles were finally over.

She thought wrong.

The next morning red lights were pouring from the rift in the sky. This caused a strange change in Kamado, who lashed out at her, blamed her for this bizarre occurrence, banished her from Jublife Village, and forbade anyone from helping her.

Rei, Laventon, and Cyllene tried to help her anyway, as did Volo, who took her top an out-of-the way location that was home to a mysterious woman named Cogita. Cogita toldabout how the Sinnohs of the Diamond and Pearl Clans were intertwined, how space and time was falling apart, and how she must forge an object called the Red Chain.

Adaman and Irida were willing to help with this quest, but as to not arouse too myuch suspicion from Kamado Evithyan could only choose one of them to tag along. Eviithyan was especially torn - both of them had helped her so much throughout her journey. Ultimately, she chose Adaman.

Her Adaman And Volo went on a quest to the three lakes of Sinnoh, quelling the Alpha Pokemon guarding the Beings Of Mind and passing their tests. It was then the three camee together to forge the Red Chain.

It was then Evithyan got an emergency summons back to the village, for Kamado had charged up Mt. Coronet to fight a Pokemon that had been sighted beyond the rift. Cyllene reinstated Evithyan's rank and commanded her to go after him, so Evithyan prepared for the journey ahead...

In the midst of doing so, she met a man named Rye and his Lucario, and after a brief conversation they promised to battle each other if this whole situation got fixed. Evithyan hoped she could follow up on it - both for obvious reasons of saving the world and everyone in it, and because she sensed something interesting about Rye...

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

Evithyan ascended to Mt. Coronet, where she prepared with the others before enteri ng a cave to the summit. There she was accosted by Beni, who revealed himself to be a ninja, but was quelled by Evithyan's team. Evithyan then confronted Kamado at the peak, and after a battle and help from Adaman and Irida they talked reason into him.

Deep within the temple at the peak, Adaman started hearing voices from his Almighty Sinnoh, or Dialga, who soon emerged. After a hectic battle Evithyan caught Dialga, who revealed it needed help with its frenzied sibling Palkias, who soon also emerged and forced them to flee. They regrouped and upon Dialga's advice set out to find Origin Ore, which the Miss Forune sisters briefly blocked them from getting before being trounced.

Laventon then used the Ore and the Red Chain to forge an Origin Ball, specially designed to capture Palkia. When they ascended back up Mt. Coronet to do so, however, they found Palkia had transformed into a strange new form in its frenzy. Dialga created an opening, and Evithyan stepped in to attack.

But could she really do this?

She had only ever befriended gods before.

Could she really defeat one?

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

Evithyan hardly knew what was going on anymore.

This creature, a dragon god of space, was now more horselike in form - and was taking her head on.

Well she would have to respond in turn.

She started hurling the balms that Dialga had summoned at the beserk deity, who hurled meteors and pulses and waves at her. The pain from these attacks was immense. As much as she ducked and weaved through the blasts they all at least grazed her.

At one point it became too much. She collapsed.

Then she heard a voice in her head, much like Adaman did.

ARE YOU GIVING UP?No, never.

THIS IS NOT YOUR WORLD. YOUR INTERVENTION IN IT WILL AMOUNT TO NOTHING FOR YOU. EITHER WAY, WHEN YOUR WORK IS DONE, YOU WILL GO BACK TO WHENCE YOU CAME.

Are you trying to say the people of your world you created don't matter? If they don't matter to you they matter to me. I will save them. They have helped me so much. And I already resigned myself to my fate, long ago. I don't care what you think or what you do - this will be my path.

GOOD ANSWER. RISE.

Evithyan suddenly felt a renewed sense of invigoration. Her wounds healed. She knew what she had to do.

She charged at Origin Palkia, started throwing balms like no tomorrow, charging through it's attacks. Finally, it broke through, the diviner being stumbled and wobbled, and she threw the Origin Ball.

It sucked Origin Palkia in.

It wobbled three times.

Then clicked.

Light poured forth.

The red lights in the sky faded and disappeared.

Evithyan sighed in relief.

It was over.

----------

After Palkia was quelled, and the world was saved, Evithyan and her companions reminisced. Kamado then proposed a festival, to which all gladly complied, but not before Evithyan mused on this Arceus that had helped her, had brought her here.

The festival went off without a hitch, and Evithyan had a good night and many pleasant conversations, with all involved. The next morning, however, she was awoken by another text from Arceus on her phone compelling her to complete the Pokedex, and Rei gave her a summons telling her the same.

Seems her work in this world was not yet done...

---------

Eivithyan was FINALLY following up with that intriguing Rye man, and the two had decided on a Lucario vs. Lucario match.

His Lucario seemed tougher, and stronger, but he made a vital mistake - he started by sinking his teeth into Hazel's shoulder with a Crunch.

:"Hazel, Close Combat!" said Evithyan.

<I'll show YOU who has more bite than bark!> said Hazel.

She lunged at the other Lucario and dealt a flurry of blows, sending him careening across the arena, at which point he collapsed. Eventually he got up, nursing his wounds. <Hmph. Not bad.>

"That was a wonderful battle! Seems we need to redo our training, Lucario."

Rye turned to Evithyan. "Thank you for the experience. I can tell you've met many Pokemon, and that's helped make you stronger."

"It was fun!" said Evithyan.

"I think we'll test our skills in other places from now on. Let's meet again!" said Rye.

"Same to you!"

She started to turn away, but then Rye stopped her. "Actually... I wanted to ask you. You fell from the sky, right?:"

Evithyan blinked. "Yes, I did. It was the talk of the town."

"Looking at your aura... It seems there was more to it than that. I see something that is distinctly human and also distinctly not. I se... A ot of trial, a lot of hardship, leading up to a singular, tragic end."

Evithyan paused.

Ryee's brow creased with worry. "What... What really happened to you? Do you want to talk about it?"

Evithyan continued to look down in silence.

"...I... I could probably afford to. "

She talked to him a good long while. About New Earth, and her quest to save it, and how she only delayed the inevitable at the cost of her own life.

It was the first time she had cried since coming here.

Rye was supportive, and as he talked to her Evithyan could hazard a guess as to why.

There seemed to be more to his story than met the eye as well.

If only Evithyan could see Auras.

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

Evithyan had met up with Dialga and Palkia in Jublife village. The two had assumed human guises so as not to disturb the townsfolk.

"So you fell here through that rift," said Dialga.

"Yes I did," said Evithyan. "And you were sent here... By Arceus?"

"Indeed." said Evithyan. "They pulled me.. From a place. Gave me a new body. Dumped me on the beach just outside of town. Told me I needed to capture every Pokemon species in this region."

Dialga and Palkia stared at Evithyan for a second, then threw their arms up and said in quick succession: "What are they THINKING?!"

Evithyan blinked. "I presume you know more of them than I thought."

"Do we?" said Palkia. "He's our PARENT!"

"For them to pluck someone from across time and place for this specific purpouse... It's baffling. And concerning."

Evithyan paused. And thought to herself a bit.

...Why WAS she really here?

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

Evithyan's final quest before hunting down the Legendaries of Hisui was to locate one particular Spiritomb. So after some reading she followed a lead - the strange wisps the strange girl named Vessa.

Eventually, after an arduous journey across Hisui, she found them all. But Vessa revealed she had the last one. And after several odd questions she closed her eyes, opened them, and Vessa was gone, replaced by the last wisp.

Was... Vessa the last spirit, she wondered?

As she predicted, Spiritomb appeared before her. After a strenuous battle she caught it.

Vessa's last instruction was not to forget her. And she had a feeling.

So she named the Spiritomb Vessa.

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

Evithyan walked up to Volo in the ruins of the temple, as he had requested. When she found him he seemed to be gazing passively off into the distance.

"The temple lies in ruins now..." he said. "Columns cracked and broken.... Like pillars now turned into spears, stabbing into the heavens..."

He chuckled. "Well I detect a distinct lack of Giratina."

Evithyan raised an eyebrow. Volo raised one back.

"Hm? Is something bothering you?"

"You're acting... A little odd," said Evithyan.

Volo laughed a little too heartily. "Ah, I do beg your pardon, I must seem to be behaving strangely!"

He nodded. "I daresay you deserve to know what I'm really after by now." "What you're really...?" said Evithyan.

"Ever since I became convinced Arceus really does exist, there has been one question that consumed my thoughts..." said Volo. "How can I meet such a being myself?"

He started pacing. "It was in an attempt to answer this question that I originally sought out Giratina and had it tear open that rift in space and time..."

Evithyan's eyes widened. "Wait, you were responsible for the Space-Time Rift? The one that brought harm to so many people in this region? The one that stranded Ingo here?!"

Yes! After all, Girratina wished to stand against Arceus. But that didn't do the trick.... So then I had you gather the fragments of the all-encompassing deity, just as the murals of the ruins directed."

"Wait, thiis was all part of some twisted scheme?!"

He ignored her. "Eighteen plates said to be the fragments of the all-encompassing deity... You hold in your hands seventeen of them. So, you must be wondering, where is the last one?"

"Admittedly I am."

Volo whipped out a purple plate "Why it's right here!:"

"Oh you had it this whole ti-"

It was then Volo threw his clothes off, revealing Arceus-like attire (and an Arceus-like hairstyle) underneath-

"Now hand over those plates you gathered! I will be the one to bring them all together!"\\

Evithyan scowled. "Never."

"Fool! My desire to meet Arceus cannot be contained any longer! I need to know what it is! I MUST know what it is! "IF I can meet Arceuis itself, then I may also be able to subjugate its power... And using that, I will attempt to create a new, better world!"

"Wait, but then you'd-"

"Of course, if I create a brand new world, this Hisui region that we currently exist in will be undone and return to nothing. You, everyone you know, and all of the Pokemon living here will vanish in an instant, as if you'd never been."

Evithyan snarled. "You're Insane. That's omnicide. That's abominable! I can't let that happen!"

Volo laughed maniacly. "Well If you want to keep this world, then face me in battle!"

He grinned, a little too widely. "Not that you have a choice. Even if you don't wish to battle me, I'm not above using force to take those plates from you."

"And I'm not above using force to turn you into a stain on the floor of these ruins."

Volo laughed and sent out a Spiritomb. Evithyan sent out owo the Clefable.

"Owo, Moonblast!"

owo giggled and fired a n orb of fey moonlight at the Spiritomb, knockinmg it out instantly.

Volo laughed. "Cute! But your victory won't come that easily."

He sent out a Roserade, who immediately retaliated with an Agile Style Spikes followed by a Poison Jab, owo recoiled and staggered backwards in paqin. "Oof ouch owie!"

'Owo, Return! Said Evithyan, swapping her out fpr Kronosal the Dialga.

<Hmph,> said Kronosal. <I've seen madmen like you before and I bet I will again.>

He exhales a plume of fire in a Flamethrower on the Roserade. Volo momentarily shows panic and quickly supplies a Full Restore to thye Roserade.

Evithyan scowled again. "You know what? Kronosal is right. I've met someone just. Like. You."

Kronosal breathed a plume of fire again. The Roserade retaliated with another Spikes.

"He was ruthless, ambitious, didn't care how many people he killed in order to become god of his new world."

A third Flametthrower took out the Roserade. Volo scoffed and sent out a Lucario.

"I dedicated my life to trying to stop him. I gave my life trying to stop him. And while I failed at stopping him for good... I won't make the same mistake with you."

Lucario flexed its muscles with a Bulk Up. Kronosal attempted to Flamethrower it but its thick muscles blunted the effect of the flames.

Volo laughed. "You talk the talk, but can you back up those words of yours?"

Lucario lunged into Kronosal with a Bullet Punch Close Combat combo, taking him out. Evithyan flinched, but maintained her scowl.

"If you think I'm done yet you're sorely mistaken."

She sent out Biolepta.

<Guess I'm cleaning up my brother's mess again,> said Biolepta. <Tally ho!>

She breathed her own Flamethrower, finally taking the Lucario out.

"Bah!" said Volo. "Stop trying to resist!"

He sent out a Togekiss, who caused Biolepta to buckle from a Moonblast.

"I'll stop resisting when I've crushed you utterly and completely," said Evithyan.

She sent out Franziska the Alpha Overquil.

<Foolish fooling fool!> said Franziska.

She rammed into the Togekiss with her poison spines in a Barb Barrage. The Togekiss retaliated by comboing an Agile Style Moonblast into a normal Moonblast, but another ramming from the spines grounded it.

Volo snarled. "Idiot! I still have the upper hand!"

He sent out a Garchomp, who lifted the ground beneath Franziska in an Earth Power, knocking her out.

Evithyan grinned. "I see your Garchomp and raise you mine."

She sent out chadette the Alpha Garchomp.

<Aw man bro can't we resolve this peacefully?> said chadette. <Like with sports and flexing muscles at each other and stuff?>

"This man is trying to destroy the world, chadette!>

<Oh. That's bad bro. Well then. Power hug!>

She embraced the other garchomp while wreathed in dragonfire and slammed it into the ground, instantly knocking it out.

Volo stomped his foot. "Blast it! I still have one more!"

He sent out a Hisuian Arcanine, who immediately bit into chaddete with a Crunch.

<That tickles dawg!> said Chaddete.

As the Arcanine continued to chew ineffectually at chjadette with more Crunches, Evithyan fed Max Revives to Kronosal and Franziska, restoring their vitality.

Finally, Chaddete scooped up the Arcanine and slammed it straight into an Earth Power, KOing it instantly. Volo's face contorted in rage as he screamed.

"Why? Why you? Why do you have the blessing of Arceus? Why? How?!"

He stomped his foot again. "I've devoted myself to Arceus beyond any other! I worshipped it as the creator of our entire world! I bent all of my passion and interest to its study! All that time I spent pouring over the legends, everything that I've done..."

He screamed to the heavens. "You outsider! It's almost as if you were spat out of the space time rift just to get in my way!"

"Well maybe I was!" said Evithyan."Either way, I intend to see that through, regardless of YOUR life or limb!"

Volo shook his head. "No...No this isn't finished yet! Can't you feel it? The chill creeping through your veins - the eldritch presence icing your heart?"

Evithyan paused. To her horror shje felt exactly what Volo, in his mad ramblings, was describing.

Then there was an unearthly roar.

Deep shadows formed behind Volo, and from them emerged a fearasome wyrm of massive size, with gold armor plates and scarlet and gray stripes.

"Giratina! Strike her down!" yelled Volo.

Evithyan snarled. "You too would use a fallen god against me? You are really just like him! I'll KILL you!"

She sent out owo again, still battered from the last battle.

<Woah lady, chill.> said Giratina.

He disappeared into darkness and lunged from beneath owo in a Shadow Force, knocking her out.

"Ha!" said Volo. "You can't stand up to this!"

"Incorrect!" said Evithyan. "Me and my team, we're still standing! We're still fighting!"

She sent out Relina the Ursaluna.

<Hmph... Dishonorable.> said Relina. <Let me put you in your place.>

Relina tore into Giratina using an Agile Style Shadow Claw, while Evithyan quickly fed a Max Revive to owo.

<That stung dude,> said Giratina.

He spat an Agile Style Aura Sphere into Relina's face. And then another into her side.

"It'll take more than that to fell me!"

She lunged and pummeled Giratina with a Strong Style Play Rough. Giratina squirmed, but knocked her off with a third Aura Sphere, knocking her out.

"owo, get back in there!" said Evithyan.

<Sure thing uwu> said owo.

<How did you do that with your mou-> Giratina started to say, before a Moonblast hit him the face, causing him to collapse!

"Did we- " Evithyan started to say.

It was then Giratina's neck craned back in a roar, and shadows enveloped him before dissipating to reveal a new, more serpentine form.

<Time for sicko mode dudes!> he said.

"Ha!" said Volo. "Giratina won't be defeated so easily!"

"Then we'll just defeat it again!" said Evithyan.

Giratia lunged in a Shadow Force, but owo stepped out of the way, only to be hit by a second. She attempted an Agile Style moonblast but Giratina dodged in turn before ramming her with a third Shadow Force, toppling her over into a knockout.

Evithyan sent out Biolepta, who looked at Giratina with baleful eyes

<Brother, why are you doing this? Why are you working with this creep?!<

She tore the space around Giratina for a Spacial Rend. Evithyan used the distraction to feed a Max Revive to Relina, who quickly got to her feet.

Giratina scowled at Biolepta. <Our parent knows what they did sis.>

Biolepta narrowed her eyes. <Wait, is this about your->

Her sentence was cut off by Giratina sinking his tendrils into her for a Dragon Claw, causing her to scream and topple over unconscious with a thud.

"Even other gods can't stand before it!" said Volo.

"Shit... said Evithyan. "Relina, get back out there!"

"This time stay down!" said Relina.

She went for a Agile Style Play Rough, but Giratina slithered to the side. She attempted it again only to get the same result.

<I could say the same to you bruh,> said Giratina.

He unloaded a pair of Aura Spheres into her side, sending her skidding to Evithyan's feet, unconscious.

Evithyan gritted her teeth. Her options at this point were limited. She had/ to consider her options carefully.

She thought back to the one who had helped her against his maddened, frenzied sister. He could stand a chance.

"Go Kronosal!"

Kronosal was sent out, and glared at Giratina.

<Brother, I am very disappointed in you.>

He reared up.

HE roared, a roar that rippled through time - an Agile Style Roar Of Time even. And Giratina finally collapsed to the floor before weakly raising his head.

<I'm... I'm sorry guys...>

And he slithered weakly away into the sky, off in the distance toward the Cobalt Coastlands.

"Turning tail and running? From this puny HUMAN? Pathetic! " screamed Volo after him.: "I was the one to feed you the power you needed so you could take on Arceus! I was the one who gave you the chance to claw op[en that space time rift, driving the deity of space and the deity of time mad so that you could drag the creator from out of hiding!"

He shook his head. "How? How could this happen?! Almighty Arceus if you have any heart within you, then tell me... The blood of the ancient Sinnoh people flows in my veins, does it not? What is it, then, that you find so lacking in me?!"

"Arceus sees you're a monster." said Evithyan, brandishing Chadette's Pokeball. "Now give me one good reason I shouldn't have Chadette rip your throat out right now."

Volo kept staring, ignoring her. "Do you mean to tell me the whole world doesn't need to be remade?"

Evithyan stared, blinkfeed, and quietly lowered the Pokeball.

"I can't live with such questions..." said Volo. "I can't bear not satisfying this ache to know!"

He turned to Evithyan. "Answer me, Evithyan. Do you have some dream that propels you, as I've had?"

Evithyan thought for a bit. "...Yes. Yes I do. Bring peace and happiness to the people of this region so that I may succeed where I failed before."

"So you do..." said Volo. "Doubtless that dream of yours would never leave room for the dreams of one like me..."

"Of course not." said Evithyan, scowling.

"I am the great wielder of Pokemon. And you... You battle alongside your Pokemon." said Vaespar. "In the end, I was alone... But not you. You will fight together with Pokemon to seize whatever dreams you may have."

Evithyan paused. "Yes... My team got me here. They got me past you."

Volo sighed and walked over to Evithyan. "Here. Take it...Take the plate that started me on this path the plate I once received from Giratina. My journey is over. My story ended when I lost to you."

He handed over the Spooky Plate. Evithyan quietly put it in her bag.

"I suppose now you've gathered all of the plates said to exist in this land of Hisui," said Volo.

Suddenly something started glowing and shaking in Evithyan's bag. She reacherd in and found it was the Celestica Flute, which stretched and twisted into a strange, lumpy, ocarinba-like shape. Evithyan stared at the result in shock.

"What... What is..?"

Volo looked on in shock. "So that's... The Azure Flute/ Heh. It comes to you."

He pondered to himself. "So Arceus wishes to meet you... Of all people, you were the one.... Is that why you were brought to this world?"

Evithyan paused. "...Perhaps.I'd have to meet them myself to confirm."

Volo shook his head. "Gah! I've no desire to watch from the sidelines as Arceus comes to you! And I absolutely cannot accept a world in which you would ever manage to defeat Arceus..."

He started walking off.

"Someday I'll solve every riddle in the legends of Hisui's Pokemon. And on that day, I'll stand before Arceus at last- no, I will conquer it! No matter how many years, how many decades, how many centuries it takes me!"

As he walked off rambling into the distance, Evithyan stared after him, Azure Flute in hand.

...He's a very strange, dangerous man. But at least momentarily he saw more reason than Vaespar ever did.

...Momentarily.

...Maybe I should have killed him when I had the chance.

------

Volo was wandering down the mountain, crushed from his defeat, when Giratina floated in front of his path. He scowled at the massive serpent.

"You! What were you DOING back there! Running away from a mere chil-"

<Listen dude,> said Giratina. <I've been thinking.>

"That's new for you!"

Volo spat. "We had a DEAL, Giratina!"

Volo stared. His eye twitched. <THAT was your rebellion against Arceus? You USED me? For WEED?!"

"But we were supposed to conquer Arceus together!"

He flew off, continuing to the Cobalt Coastlands

Volo stared off after him for a while before letting out a long, agonized scream.

----------

In Jublife Village, Evithyan stared at the Ultra Ball she was holding. She has recently fought Giratina a third time and caught him. But his attitude seemed to have changed... She wanted to find out more.

She released him from the Ultra Ball, and he immediately shrunk down to a more humanlike form to avoid terrifying the townspeople.

"Sorry about that display on Coronet dudette," he said. "I was angry and not thinking straight. I'm not letting anyone like that get their way again."

"It's quite alright," said Evithyan. "I understand."

Giratina sighed. "I just wish I had my weed."

Evithyan blinked. "Oh! I have some of Melli's. I stole it from him to get back at him for that one time."

She handed Giratina a joint. His eyes lit up as he took it and took a huff. "Oh this is WAY better than the stuff Parent confiscated."

He nodded.

"Yeah I can feel it. This protecting Hisui business. It's gonna be the right choice dudette."

Evithyan laughed.

From behind a tree a humanized Dialga and Palkia facepalmed.

--------

Evithyan walked up to the altar in the ruined Coronet temple. She looked around, as if waiting for something to happen.

And something did happen- noise bgan emanating from the Azure Flute. Evithyan pulled it out of her bag and began to play it.

Before her eyes, to her shock, a set of glowing stairs began to form and ascend, going up, and up, and uop....

Hesitantly, she began to climb them.

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

Eventually, she reachjed the top. There was an arena, in a mystical space, with strange runes carved into its surface.

She looked around... No one in sight...

Then she turned around, and then there was Arceus.

Her Arc Phone rumbled. It morphed into a strange orb of light.

Then Arceus attacked.

Evithyan rolled and dodged, and flung the strange orbs at Arceus, but she couldn't make a dent, and Arceus' pulses and meteors struk her repeatedly. Still, every time she got knocked down, she got back up.

"I'm so close..."

The two danced in a frantic frenzy, Arceus brining Evithyan to her knees over and over.

"I can't give up here..."

Arceus' energy burned at her body and soul. She finally collapsed.

:"No... No... This can't end here... Hisui needs me... I... I can't fail again..."

The assault stopped. Evithyan looked up to see Arceus had extended a hopof to her. <Arst thou- Ech, enough of the Shakespeare stuff - Are you OK?>

Evithyan unsteadily got to her feet. "Why... Why are you..."

<Listen, I know what it's like to beat yourself up about something. You've proved yourself more than enough.>

"...I have?"

<Yeah! Well, like, you couldn't beat my final challenge, but look at you go girl! You did what I asked and got all Pokemon! You saved Hisui twice! You should be proud of yourself!>

An iridescent green gem materialized in front of Arceus, which opened to reveal a laptop computer.

Evithyan blinked. "Made for some what?"

"You... Wanted to help me?"

<Yeah! Your job's not over in your world, but I figured this would be a fun detour.> They winked, then their expression softened. <Don't be afraid to fail sometimes, Evithyan. If you work it right, failure just means new paths to walk down.>

Evithyan paused, then nodded. "...I see. Thank you."

<You're welcome! Now go back to helping Hisui. You'll know when it's time to go back to your own story.>

Evithyan perked up. "I will!"

She descended her stairs, new vigor in her heart.

Arceus resumed typing on their computer.

----------

Evithyan disappeared from Hisui one day.

A massive search party, human and Pokemon, was made to find her, but turned up nothing. It was ascertained that she had finally found a way home.

Hisui continued to grow, and build, and thrive, but always remembered her actions. Her name went down in history.

And one held on to his memories of her in particular.

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

"You kids get off my lawn! I don't got time for you!"

The children in the Diamond Clan village giggled, running away from Adaman shaking his cane. When they were gon Adaman turned to a man across the way.

"Melli! Keep your grandkids in line!"

"But Adamaaaaaaaaan," said the elderly Melli, they need to be themselves!"

"Says the person who needs to be LESS himself!" said Adaman.

He decided not to focus on Melli for now, hobbling to the edge of the village and looking off at a busrtling large town in the distance. "That Jublife village is really gotten to be a Jublife City... Bah. Time's getting away from me. I can't make sense of any of this modern stuff. If only Evityan were here. She'd fix everything. She always did."

"I'm right here Adaman," said a voice. Adaman whipped around as fast as his old legs and back were able to find Evithyan standing before him. She looked different - she was older, taller, more ethereal, with a white cloak and strange markings on her face- but Adaman could still tell it was her.

"Evithyan! It's you! It's really you! You're finally back, after all these years! Oh, I've got to tell Irida, she'll be so happy to see yo-"

"Adaman, things changed in the world I'm from. We finally won... But I can still only linger here so long..."

"But - no, wait, you can't go, so many people are still kicking and will want to see you-"

"Your descendants... All of your descendants... Take care of Hisui - no, Sinnoh forme....:"

"I... I will;. I'll pass that mantra down. To everyone."

"Thank you... Adaman... Goodbye..."

"Wait, Evithyan, please, don't g-"

Too late. She was gone. Adaman stared blankly at where she was. Melli hobbled over.

"You were making a racket! Just who were you talking to anyway?"

Adaman was silent for a good long while before letting out a sigh. "...Just. Myself, I guess."

***

#umbra plays pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus #arceus #volo #adaman #fanfiction

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loverofallthingssmart · 4 years ago

Text

he likes boys...

notes: taking a quick little break from trying to figure out how words work for my kotlc collab fic (😩) for this quick little ficlet. <3 everyone say thank you to the amazing, amazing, wonderful, enchanting, talented akki, @i-love-side-characters, for the dialogue prompt (which is in bold) because i went into a frenzy after seeing the prompt and had a LOT of fun with this lmao

(also ask me about tam's debate topic i have so many thoughts on it please please please)

warnings: none!

summary:

“Hey Keefe!”

It’s after school and Tam needs to prep for his debate in class tomorrow. He’s going against Stina and if he doesn’t beat Sophie’s girlfriend, Tam’ll never hear the end of it from both of them during their weekly milkshake nights.

He doesn’t have time for whatever Marella is planning.

“Yes, oh dear, wonderful Marella?” Keefe walks over, wiping the sweat off his brow as he drops in the spot next to Tam. He looks at Tam, smiling slightly and Tam nods in his direction distractedly before turning back to his speech notes.

“Did you know Tam likes you?”

word count: 1251

read it under the cut!

“Hey, Keefe!” Marella’s shout rings across the field where she and Tam are currently sitting on the bleachers. It’s after school and Tam needs to prep for his debate in class tomorrow. He’s going against Stina and if he doesn’t beat Sophie’s girlfriend, Tam’ll never hear the end of it from both of them during their weekly milkshake nights.

He doesn’t have time for whatever Marella is planning.

“Yes, oh dear, wonderful Marella?”

Keefe walks over, wiping the sweat off his brow as he drops in the spot next to Tam. He looks at Tam, smiling slightly and Tam nods in his direction distractedly before turning back to his speech notes.

In contrast to what my companion said, importing a tax on greenhouse gases would solve the issue of pollution faster than just creating methods of transportation to reduce civilian’s carbon footprints---”

“Did you know Tam likes you?” Bang. Tam scrambles up from the floor where he just fell, head ringing as he rushes to cover his best friend’s mouth, smiling sheepishly at Keefe’s bewildered expression.

“Wh--what?” Keefe looks at the both of them. The tone of his voice seems confused, but Tam can see the beginning of a smile forming on his face.

“Oh, yeah, remember that one time you were swimming laps during a meet when we came to cheer you on? I totally saw how Tam wouldn't stop staring at you shirtless. Especially when you came out of the pool all wet and hair dripping and stuff. I mean I don’t see it, you kind of looked like a wet dog to me but that’s just cause I’m a lesbian. He, on the other hand, totally likes you.

“Marella..” Tam warns her, his jaw clenched in embarrassment.

A memory resurfaces in Tam’s mind.

Before dealing with anyone, first, inhale. Then, exhale. Count to 10. Linh’s calm voice echoes in his head.

After counting to 10, if you’re still angry, think of your happy place for a few seconds. And finally, if that doesn’t work you have my full permission to fuck them up.

Tam chuckles at the memory and the horror he felt at the time, hearing his sister curse for the first time, when he's suddenly brought back to reality at the sound of Marella's voice again.

“---like he like likes you. Like he wants to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and hug you and call you his boyfrien---”

“I swear if you open your mouth again—”

“Have fuuuun” Marella croons, standing up and running away from Tam’s death glare into the arms of her awaiting girlfriend.

She tucks her hand into Biana’s back pocket, kissing her on the cheek in lieu of hello as she smiles amusedly at them and after waving goodbye, the both of them leave for Biana’s tennis practice.

Tam feels betrayed. His best friend and his crush’s best friend conspiring against him. What are the odds?

A cough sounds from behind him. Tam turns to see Keefe grinning widely at him. He gestures at Tam to sit next to him and he walks over before plopping down next to him, their knees touching.

“Not a word. Not a single word,” he grumbles. He knows there’s no point when he catches sight of the mischievous glint in his crush’s eyes.

3, 2, 1, And….

“Aww babe, you had a crush on me? That’s so embarrassing.”

There it is.

Keefe smiles crookedly at him and Tam will not blush, no matter how cute the way his boyfriend looks with his face all scrunched up and eyes bright from giddiness.

Keefe gets off the bleachers, stretching his arms out as he waits for his boyfriend. The edge of his shirt rides up and Tam pointedly avoids looking at the small strip of tanned skin peeking out as he packs his things, ignoring the hand held out in front of him and descends down the stairs quickly to avoid the afternoon crowd.

He stops at the bottom and feels Keefe stand behind him, waiting for a response.

Tam purses his lips, “We’re dating, idiot. You’re even the one who confessed to me and asked me to prom. Which is so daring, by the way, like what would you have done if I said no?”

He crosses his arms and turns, leaning his head back against Keefe’s shoulder, eyes closed, soaking up the sun.

Maybe Linh was on to something when she called him a cat,

Arms snake around his waist as Keefe’s head falls on his shoulder. Tam can feel butterfly kisses along his neck as Keefe’s grip around him tightens.

“I love you.”

Tam tries to hide his soft smile, but it’s no use. “That doesn’t answer my question,”

He feels Keefe chuckle along his shoulder.

“ You have to say it back,” he whines, “Otherwise people are going to think you hate me.”

Tam scoffs, “No one will think that, I’ve been obsessed with you and your stupid hair since like middle school.”

“Still,” Keefe’s head lifts up, “Please Bangs Boy? For me?”

He pouts and Tam feels the familiar swell of affection in his heart for this wonderful boy.

He sighs, “I love you too.”

Keefe’s glee is palpable in the air around them. “You do, don’t you?”

Tam’s eyes narrow. He knows that tone….

“You know that’s like kinda cringe of you right?”

Knew it.

Keefe takes his hands away from Tam’s waist, ignoring how he almost makes him fall on the ground and swings their joined hands back and forth as they start to make their way inside.

“I mean the debate king and the swimming champ. Have you heard of a more cliche couple?”

“Uh yeah?”

Tam starts to list names on his fingers, “Sophie’s the school nerd and Stina’s the jock of the school. Dex is also technically a nerd and Fitz is the popular guy. Then there’s Marella who’s dating not only Biana but also my sister so like there’s a numerous amount of cliches in that--”

He’s cut off by Keefe’s chuckle and stops in the middle of the field.

“You really are an oblivious one, aren’t you darling?”

Tam’s heart skips a beat at the term of endearment, “Huh?”

“I was being romantic.”

“Oh.”

Keefe smiles, “Yeah, oh.”

Tam grimaces in apology “I---”

Keefe’s hand darts out to stop his mouth from moving, “Bup bup bup! What did we say about unnecessary apologies?” He raises an eyebrow and Tam stares at him unamused.

“There’s no need for apologies between us.”

Keefe’s eyes crinkle, “Exactly!"

He checks his watch, "Now come on Bangs Boy, it’s almost 6, and Tiergan and Elwin will freak if we’re not in time for joint family dinner.”

He pulls Tam along, running as Tam follows along with him.

Tam grins. He knows soon, in a few hours or so it’ll be time for Keefe to go home so he’ll kiss Tam on the cheek and promise to drive him in the morning before leaving Tam to stay up all night preparing, making sure he’s ready for class tomorrow.

Till then though, he’s with his boyfriend on the way home for dinner with his family. His adoptive dad adores Keefe and Elwin adores him in return. After dinner, they’ll head to Linh’s room so Biana can paint Keefe’s nails while he and Marella braid Linh’s hair.

He’s happy, Tam realizes. He’s so so happy.

And, as he feels the weight of Keefe’s sunshine smile on him, cheeks red from the exhilaration as they race to the parking lot, Tam knows he wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.

#keefe sencen #tam song #kam #kam fanfic #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #e attempts to words on paper #this was sooooo fun i spent the entire afternoon on it thank you ily akki #2 am ramblings #my post #pushes my marella and tam best friends forever agenda #gives tam all the friends actually #he deserves them <3 #yes the title is the simone battle song i have no idea what to title it shut up okay

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years ago

Text

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!

*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.

If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow

If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!

Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3

(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.

You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”

Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”

You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”

“Remind me again why I love you?”

Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.

They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.

These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.

But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.

You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.

“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”

You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”

She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”

Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”

“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”

“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.

“Bitch!”

You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.

“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”

Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.

“Is that-”

“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”

Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side.

“You don’t talk about him much.”

Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile.

She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness.

“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook.

“Tell me about him.”

She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him.

“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.”

As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame?

Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?

Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?

Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s?

Did they have anything of yours?

“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”

“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”

You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you.

“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”

“Hey.”

“A touch temperamental-”

“I’ll give you that one but-"

“As well as emotionally constipated-”

“Excuse me?”

“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”

Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt.

“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass.

You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."

Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit.

Especially to two people.

The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose.

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you.

When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been.

But of course, that was before they met you.

Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing.

He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world.

The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen.

This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all.

The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it.

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his.

“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”

He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted.

“Every day at work is a long day for you.”

Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan.

“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”

You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest.

“You tacky traitor!”

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.

“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”

Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”

“Alastair sent them to us.”

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed.

“And he didn’t send one for me?”

Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her.

“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile.

Which was ultimately ruined by you.

“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”

Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven.

“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”

You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile.

“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”

“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”

Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”

Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared.

“Lovely idea, darling.”

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x oc #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #valerie lord x reader #maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader #ROOSASUT #ww1984 #wonder women 1984 #fanfiction #max lord #maxwell lorenzano #tell me if i missed any tags lmao

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serenescribe · 1 year ago

Note

i don’t have a specific prompt, but maybe something with malleus being soft for sebek, perhaps post-book 7? thanks in advance! i love ur writing!

[✐] ficlet frenzy (thank you for your kind words! ;v; i'm always surprised and happy that people enjoy my writing so much)

Malleus knows better than to complain after everything he’s done, especially when said complaints concern such mundane yet essential duties. There is plenty of work to be completed with handling the aftermath of his overblot, especially considering the absolute scale of it all — a monstrously massive dome of thorns that slowly, ever so slowly, began to envelop the entire world. Had it not been for a handful of heroes — the Shrouds, for one, but also Malleus’ loved ones: Lilia, Sebek, and Silver, along with the child of man and their direbeast — he would have undoubtedly succeeded.

Damage control is essential in these critical moments after his overblot. Plenty of magic and technology, though Malleus lacks a complete understanding of how the latter works, are being employed to clean up his mess. Malleus himself, though, is busy with meeting after meeting, day after day. Of conferring with the headmage, discussing matters with the Shrouds, and, perhaps most embarrassingly enough, needing to be lectured over and over again by his grandmother, who travelled personally from the valley.

He is still allowed to stay in Diasomnia throughout all this, though that is more because of convenience than anything else. It doesn’t mean much when all the students give him an even wider berth than before, his loneliness taken to a new extreme. Sure, Lilia has changed his mind and will now stay with him, and Malleus is still close to him, Silver, and Sebek, but…

The guilt eats at him nonetheless.

Regardless, there is little they can do on the side of diplomacy, save for giving their testimonies and standing up for him, an action that Malleus deems more merciful than anything else. Malleus is largely alone for most of these days as he wrangles this mess with everyone else, while the others return to their regular schedule of classes and studies as though a world-shattering incident had not just occurred.

So it comes as a surprise to him when he returns especially late one night, entering the dorm in the wee hours of the morning at a time when even Lilia wouldn’t be awake, and sees Sebek fast asleep on the couch.

Malleus can only stare for a while, blinking in utter surprise. Sebek is one who is typically early to bed and early to rise; had he passed out here somehow? It doesn’t occur to him until he gives it some thought that perhaps Sebek had only fallen asleep here because he’d been waiting for him — and it is with that realisation that something clicks, memories of seeing Sebek on this couch night after night whenever he comes back, sitting with the other two, rising to the front of his mind.

“Your neck is going to hurt, sleeping in such a position,” Malleus murmurs, leaning over Sebek and taking in the peaceful expression of his face, the light snore that escapes his parted lips. He doesn’t even think about it before he summons a spell; green sparks fly around them as, in the blink of an eye, they are whisked to Sebek’s room, filled with the snores of his fellow roommates who, thankfully, do not stir at Malleus’ intrusion.

Gently, he lowers Sebek on the bed with the help of his magic. The mattress dips under his weight, and Malleus busies himself with fluffing up the pillows (to prevent any stiff muscles in Sebek’s neck), and straightening out the blanket, snapping it wide open in the air with the flick of his wrist before draping it over the sleeping Sebek. He steps back, surveying his work for a moment, a swell of warmth blooming in his chest.

This is good.

He reaches out with a hand, hesitating before stroking his fingers through those tousled, green locks. “Rest well, Sebek,” Malleus whispers, his voice hushed. Sparks dance around his fingertips, and the sleeping boy’s face smooths out into utter bliss; “May you have the sweetest dreams.”

After all, it is only what Sebek deserves, after everything he has gone through to save Malleus from himself.

#my writing tag #ficlet frenzy #tumblr drabbles tag #twst #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland spoilers #twst ch7 #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twst fanfiction #twst writing #i actually wrote this a couple hours ago but i'm posting it before others i've written bc uhhhh #stares at mid december ch7 part 6 update #yeah. yea

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

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Jeff ADOPTING THE LEGION! Like the glitch of 4 killers spawning and 1 survivor. The legion gets to have races and be stupid(er) for a match. Frank shows off how to totally do a gen!

[anon gets it. this was super fun to write, hope you enjoy!]

just legion being brats and jeff being a dad. some references to this ask!

Jeff babysits the Legion: ficlet

Jeff is in the middle of rolling up some bandages for his med-kit, waiting for the others to arrive at the pre-trial campfire. When the familiar smoky tendrils start creeping up his legs, he looks around with a frown on his face; nope, still just him. He’s reminded of the last time the Entity decided to start a trial with less than four survivors, and he groans in annoyance, hoping he doesn’t have to put up with three grizzlys this time.

When Jeff opens his eyes, he’s in the middle of Mt. Ormond's snowy grounds and predictably, he’s alone; not the most promising start. He reluctantly makes his way to the lodge, keeping a lookout for angry bears. With no heartbeat in earshot, Jeff crouches by the generator and gets to work, but as soon as the first piston starts moving, he realizes he has company.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here!” one of the Legion, he thinks Julie, sneers at him from the second floor, leaning cockily against the railing. “Man oh man, you came to the wrooong place,” a man in a skull mask comes up beside her, spinning his knife in a threatening manner. That must be Joey. “We’re gonna gut you like a pig,” Julie says, spitting out the word as she starts making her way down the stairs, sliding down the banister like an unruly child.

Jeff sighs and gets up on his feet. One of the Legion brats he can deal with, but two? Better to just get this over with.

“How are you both here?” Jeff asks, undisturbed by Julie getting right up in his face. “Not a very fair match, if you ask me.” “'Both’? You don’t know the half of it,” Joey snickers, probably sharing a knowing look with Julie; it’s hard to tell with the masks. Jeff is about to ask him to elaborate, when a sharp pain flares up his shoulder. “Oops, sorry!” a third member of the Legion--Susie, the one with braces, says from behind him, retracting the knife from his shoulder. “What’s a little stabby-stab between old friends, huh?” “I preferred when you paid me with beer, not stabs,” Jeff grits out through the pain, glancing at the faded mural he made for the group’s hangout what feels like a lifetime ago. “Ooh, he’s funny!” Julie mocks, gripping her knife better. “Don’t worry, you’ll scream soon enough,” she says, raising her hand. “That’s enough,” a familiar voice interrupts them and Julie lowers her hand without hesitation. Jeff sees Frank walk down the stairs with an annoying cocky swagger, Joey not far behind him. “How nice of you to intervene,” Jeff says to the group’s leader, trying to tone down his sarcasm.

He’s always thought the Legion kids were nice enough on their own, becoming sort of an annoying hive mind when together, but Frank is by far the worst offender, turning into an insufferable asshole when he is with his little gang.

“Fatty,” Frank acknowledges him, making Julie snort. Jeff rolls his eyes at the juvenile humor. “Dude, what are you doing?” Joey questions. “Just kill him.” “One,” Frank begins, lifting his index finger. “This one’s the least dipshit survivor--not that that’s saying much. Two, as long as he’s alive, we can keep hanging out in the trial. And three--” Frank surges towards Joey, slamming him against a pillar and holding his knife against the other’s throat. “Don’t you dare fucking question me again or I’ll throw you on a hook and leave you to rot.”

Joey holds up his arms in surrender and Frank eventually lowers the knife, still leaning over the other teen menacingly. The air is tense with the threat of violence, and even Julie shifts awkwardly on her feet.

“Oooh!” Susie suddenly exclaims. “Was he the one who helped you when you were a baby survivor?” she asks cheerily, pointing at Jeff and innocently cocking her head.

As Frank sputters something unintelligible, clearly embarrassed, and Julie and Joey snicker to themselves, Jeff feels the tension fade and he can’t help but let out an amused huff of his own.

“I saved him! From a--from a fucking bear!” Frank eventually manages to stammer out. Jeff just smiles knowingly, and feels Frank’s stare digging holes into him as if daring him to bring up the events of their last trial together.

As it turns out, the Legion aren’t too bothered by keeping Jeff around so they can stay in the trial to fuck around. At first, they have a race along the long wall of the cabin, with Joey winning each one, until Jeff comes up with an idea.

“Why don’t I throw down some pallets and mark a couple windows, make an obstacle course for you guys?” “That sounds like fun!” Susie beams, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands in excitement. “Whatever, I’ll still kick all your asses!” Joey boasts.

Jeff throws together a makeshift obstacle track around the shack side of the map, before giving a countdown to the bunch of unusually focused teens standing in a neat row. On his command, they take off in a frenzy, sprinting to the first window. It takes approximately five seconds for the fighting to start.

“You’re blocking me, asshole!” “Frank broke the pallet!” “Cheater!” “JUUDGE!!” Julie’s annoyed whine has Jeff make his way over to the commotion. He sees Frank on the ground, laughing hysterically while Susie is on top of him and is slapping him with his own mask, with Joey standing next to them, sulking. Julie turns to Jeff and angrily points at the remains of a pallet and Frank’s iridescent button on his jacket. “Frank, you’re disqualified,” Jeff says. “It was just a prank, bro!” Frank laughs while shielding himself from Susie’s wrath.

The three remaining Legion members redo the race, with Julie winning by a landslide. She’s in the middle of boasting to an annoyed Joey, when Frank’s face, now maskless, lights up.

“Bet you guys don’t know how to repair a gen!” “Uhh, yeah, ‘cause we’re not a bunch of pussy survivors?” Joey says, not eager at the idea. “I think someone’s scared of losing. Again,” Frank eggs on. “Oh you’re on.”

Jeff ends up teaching the other three how to repair the machine while Frank just shows off and gives obnoxious comments at the others’ failures. Surprisingly, Susie eventually comes out on top, seeming to be the best mechanic out of the four.

“How are you so good at this?” Julie asks, zapping herself on the wires again. “It’s like a puzzle! Super easy!” Susie beams. “Yeah?? Well try to do it when a bear is on its way to eat you!” Frank argues, clearly annoyed at having been bested.

When the group leaves the generator, the four teens stop dead in their tracks and turn to look at something between two rocks. Jeff hears the familiar sound of echoing winds before he sees the hatch. Huh, he hadn’t even considered the fact it would have been open from the very start of the trial, seeing as he’s the only survivor. He could jump in right now and leave, or one of the killers could kick it shut, starting the two-minute endgame timer. Either way, the Legion’s time together (and his time with them, he reluctantly admits) would be cut short.

“You guys want to make a bonfire?” Jeff suggests, pretending not to notice the collective relief in the kids’ postures at his suggestion. “I doubt the hatch is going anywhere for a while.” “I saw some marshmallows in the lodge!” Susie exclaims.

Frank gathers some rubble for the fire, while Joey helps Jeff carry two couches up on a small hill and Susie and Julie find some marshmallows and blankets in the lodge.

“This is nice,” Susie says later, huddled up in a blanket, sitting between Joey and Jeff and looking up dreamily at the starry sky, fire crackling in front of her with four discarded masks next to it. “These taste like shit and the stars are fake as fuck,” Frank says, spitting out the roasted marshmallow and leaning back on the couch in annoyance. “Well, it’s the nicest we’ve had since we got here,” Susie says quietly, nibbling on her own marshmallow and pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Susie’s right, lighten up,” Julie says, seemingly elbowing Frank under their shared blanket. “It’s been a fun day.” “Yeah, uh. Thanks, man,” Joey mumbles, and it takes Jeff a second to realize the man is addressing him. “Yess! Thanks for this awesome day Jeff!” Susie says, smile back on her face and actually leaning over to give Jeff a cute half-hug. “And, uh... sorry for stabbing you.” “Nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix,” Jeff says and gives the girl an encouraging pat on her back. “Feel free to come hang out whenever,” Julie says. “Yeah, Frank was right. You’re pretty cool,” Joey says. “I never said that!” Frank, predictably, denies. “But. You know. What she said. About hanging out,” he mutters, awkwardly looking away and gesturing at Julie. “Sure. This has been a nice change of pace. Maybe next time we can spray paint more of the lodge,” Jeff suggests with a small smile. “That would be so cool!” Susie beams. “You do realize we’re still gonna kill you in trials though?” Joey points out. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

When Jeff finally, and a little reluctantly, makes his way out through the hatch, he finds an obscene amount of bloodpoints waiting for him outside of the trial. There’s also a note, with messy symbols scrawled in an unintelligible language that he can inexplicably read--ah, a note from the Entity. He barks out a hearty laugh as he makes out the contents of the note: “Babysitting bonus: +100 000 BP”.

#jeff johansen #dbd legion #frank morrison #julie kostenko #dbd susie #dbd joey #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd fanfic #request #dweetwrites

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legobiwan · 5 years ago

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Obi-wan trial ficlet (part 2)

As I was lying in bed last night - wholly unable to sleep - I was visited by the spirit of writing at 3.30am. And thus, have this not-so-little extension of the “Obi-wan on Trial” ficlet. Note, I have basically no plot plan for this whatsoever, but since my imagination was running wild on insomnia and delirium, I figured I’d at least get something from my grand total of an hour’s sleep.

---

Cody glanced at his chrono for the fifth time in as many minutes. According to the General’s plan - which was disturbingly short on details - they were going to rendezvous here at approximately 1700 hours. Another fifteen minutes, give or take.

Already Cody’s gut was twisting with anxiety. Approximately and give or take weren’t standard vocabulary in the General’s lexicon, at least not when it came to missions, which Obi-wan usually had plotted down to the millisecond. But earlier today, the General had waved off Cody’s concerns with a breezy smile, promising that everything would make sense later on and that time on Coruscant was a far more flexible matter due to the proclivities of certain indolent politicians.

In any other circumstance, the minor sleight would have set off alarm klaxons in Cody’s mind. The General, while as human as anyone else once one peeled through the many layers of reserve and Jedi stoicism, did not openly scorn other sentients, at least not without good reason. There are as many truths, as many realities, as there are points of view in this galaxy, he had once told Cody on a rare diplomatic mission.

Politicians, however - Coruscanti politicians, to be precise - seemed to be exempt from that axiom.

Not that Cody could blame Obi-wan, especially given the events of the past few days.

That Commander Tano had been implicated in the bombing of the Jedi Temple, that she had been arrested, twice by his fellow vod - Cody shook his head, still in disbelief. It was insanity. Commander Tano could no more kill innocents than Cody could dance the Dha Werda Verda with Count Dooku.

And somehow, that event had led him here on the General’s mysterious orders, Commander Tano having been dragged away to some secret trial in the Jedi Temple, Rex, Cody, and the rest of the men not having seen nor heard anything from her since her recapture and imprisonment.

Impossible. She was innocent, the General would make sure of it.

Still, that didn’t explain why he was stuck in the bowels of the Senate Judiciary wing, armed with a small artillery of grenades along with his standard blaster, an unregistered speeder sitting in the delivery bay just past the loading dock entrance.

All part of the plan, Obi-wan had said.

Cody had a bad feeling about this.

A minuscule change in the vent airflow caught his attention, and Cody glanced up, peering into the faraway flat-bottom discs that rose tall into the main chamber of the High Republic courtroom. Years on the frontlines of the war had honed his already well-engineered senses, which were attuned to the slightest crunch of a leaf or the faint odor of lubricant, all small clues that could be the difference between life and death, of victory and defeat. Not that he was expecting a battalion of battle droids to come stomping through the Senate, but if Obi-wan had him on guard duty down here, it had to be for a reason.

That reason, Cody realized with growing horror, was a speck plummeting through the narrow chasm of support beams and ventilation ducts. “Incoming 270, point-oh-eight vertical, approximately 80 kilograms, projectile type unknown,” he muttered to himself, drawing his blaster, his left arm bent at his chest, weapon perched on his forearm as he lined up the shot...

Damn! he cursed as the figure twirled out of range, swallowed by the long shadows of the podium base. Again, Cody did some quick math, calculating the likely trajectory of what he belatedly realized wasn’t a weapon, but a sentient. Sure enough in his estimate, the clone ran to the support spire, flattening himself along the opposite side of where he thought the figure would land. It was too dim to get a full visual on the being, but Cody had held the best record in the GAR’s echolocation target practice for three years running, and didn’t need to see his mark to hit his mark.

Taking a deep breath, the clone swung around, gripping his blaster with two hands, arms extended in front of his chest.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shoot me, Cody.”

His blaster faltered, barrel drooping towards the floor. Cody’s eyes went wide as moons.

“Sir?”

Obi-wan Kenobi brushed off the front of his tunics, adjusting his utility belt before pushing a few loose bangs behind his ear. "There will be plenty of time to be shot at later," he explained. The Jedi made a "follow me" gesture, striding past Cody, making towards the exit with long, hurried steps.

Cody felt as if he were glued to the floor.

"Ahh...is everything okay, sir?" he asked, his earlier anxiety returning with a sickening flourish. Obi-wan spun around, placing his hands on his hips.

"It won't be if we don't get moving," he snapped, his face folding in uncharacteristic open irritation bordering on outright anger. Cody's stomach swooped downwards. Okay, really not good, whatever this is.

"I trust you were able to acquire the speeder?" Obi-wan asked, glancing behind Cody. Checking for enemies, the clone assumed.

Cody jogged to catch up with the impatient-looking Jedi.

"Yes, sir," the clone replied, defaulting to a standard, no-nonsense military tone. He would ask the General what was going on later, after the danger had passed. For now, they - he, at least - would to stick to the safety of military protocol and communication.

Obi-wan gave a slight nod. In the light, Cody could see the man was exhausted, his eyes bruised with fatigue, his face drawn. Still, there was something different about the way the General was holding himself, something in the sharp blade of his voice, an edge of danger Cody didn't think he had ever heard before.

Distant echoes of frenzied shouting and hectic orders rang above them, followed by the familiar thunder of bootsteps. Obi-wan swore under his breath as the airflow shifted yet again, heralding the arrival of at least one, if not two newcomers.

"Let's go," he said, breaking into a full run.

Minutes later, they were in the borrowed speeder, catapulting through Coruscant's skylanes like a hyperactive Kowakian monkey. Cody gripped the side of the vehicle as Obi-wan made another ninety-degree turn, powering into the capital's main thoroughfare, nearly taking off the heads of at least three other drivers as he cut in front of a luxury-length rec speeder, tossing in a rude hand gesture as a bonus.

"Sir?" Cody yelped, wrenching his gaze to Obi-wan in astonishment. The Jedi's brow was furrowed in intense concentration, the momentary aberration in his behavior already forgotten.

"Get those detonators ready," Obi-wan ordered, terse. "On my signal."

Oookay, then, the clone took a deep inhale, giving a minute shake of his head as he fished out the explosives. This was definitely not the time to talk about whatever was going on, but once they had achieved their mission objective - whatever it's supposed to be, Cody thought sourly - he was going to have words with the General.

Up ahead, the twin spires of the Republic holding facility came into view. A drab, depressing building notable only for its multivariate shades of grey and permanently smog-stained transparisteel windows - General Skywalker had once described it as being "like a Hutt vomited twenty years ago and no one cared enough to clean it up."

Beyond its charming aesthetics, however, the Republic holding facility was also notable in that it served as a transitionary custody space for those awaiting sentencing from the High Republic Courts. Cody's throat went dry. They wouldn't have put Commander Tano in there, would they? No, that was ridiculous. If Commander Tano were being held here, it would mean she had been found guilty, that she was only waiting to hear what her prison sentence would be. Or worse, Cody shivered. No, he refused to believe the Commander would commit such a heinous act and doubly refused to believe the General would allow her to be convicted of false charges.

They were nearly parallel the building now, Obi-wan bringing the speeder almost flush against the high, electro-barbed walls, sending sparks of energy flying as the Jedi inched the edge of the vehicle dangerously close to the barrier.

"Now, Cody!"

All clones knew they had been bred for this war, to fight, to serve the Republic. While the clones themselves exhibited the same level of variation of personalities, of likes and dislikes as any general populace, all clones also knew that above all, they were bound by loyalty and duty. To their fellow vod. To the Republic. And to the Jedi they served under.

Which was why Cody didn't think twice before lobbing a fistful of high-output grenades straight into the Republic holding facility's main generator on Obi-wan's command.

Cody watched in stunned silence as there was a cataclysmic burst of light, the electro-barbs racing to a sharp peak before fizzling out, grimy stains rendered invisible as every bit of energy and electricity around not only the building, but the entire sector died out with a pathetic whine.

What the kriff? Cody gaped.

The clone whipped around to demand an answer, to know why he had just bombed a Republic prison facility on the orders of a Jedi, of a High General. Of my friend, Cody grit, betrayal stabbing deep into his lower abdomen.

But his furious storm of words died on his lips as Cody stared down the wrong end of his own blaster, muzzle only centimeters from his forehead. It didn't escape the clone's attention that the setting had been switched to "kill."

"I am very sorry, Cody," Obi-wan apologized, his voice almost preternaturally calm. "But for both our sakes, this needs to look convincing."

Cody froze, his brain refusing to process the visual input, the aural evidence, the logical conclusion that should have drawn from the situation. He was in a speeder. He had just bombed a Republic prison on Obi-wan's orders. Obi-wan was pointing a lethal weapon at him. And...Cody stretched his ears, not daring to take his eyes off the apparently insane Jedi in the next seat.

Those are CSF sirens, he realized, stomach sinking. Nu draar...dini'la jetti haar'chak! This wasn't a Republic-sanctioned mission, probably wasn't even a Jedi-sanctioned mission. This was...

Cody had no idea what this was.

He briefly considered taking a chance, throwing himself on Obi-wan to attempt to wrest control of both the blaster and the speeder from crazed Jedi. But a single flinty glare from Obi-wan stopped that plan in its tracks. On a normal day, the General was far more dangerous than many people gave him credit for. Cody didn't want to find out what he was like when that self-imposed restraint was dropped.

The next few moments passed in bizarre silence, Obi-wan weaving through skylanes, blaster never wavering from Cody's forehead. At one point, he slowed in front of an official city surveillance droid, letting the little machine take a good, long look at the bizarre drama unfolding in the front seat of the speeder. Obi-wan then gave the camera a slanted grin and jaunty salute before hitting the accelerator, pulling back on the yoke, sending the speeder plummeting down at least twenty levels. When Cody's stomach had made it back to his abdomen from his throat, he noticed the blaster was gone.

"Did I ever tell you," Obi-wan began conversationally, "about the time I flew a small transport through the corridors of a mining spaceship?"

Cody gawked at the other man. He truly had gone insane.

"It was quite the mission, on Pijal. I must have been, oh, sixteen, seventeen at the time. I swore off flying forever, although Qui-gon never let me actually make good on that promise." Obi-wan shook his head. “Typical.”

The sirens, which had been gaining a dangerous amount of ground on their escape vehicle, were no longer audible, their wails having blurred into the usual, busy hum of Coruscant's normal traffic.

Normal, Cody almost laughed. Wouldn't that be a thing?

They were probably at least five hundred levels down now, maybe even more, the sky long since having disappeared from view, neon lights and the bright ends of spice sticks offering a cheap, counterfeit sun.

Obi-wan swung the speeder into a narrow alley, cutting the engine with a satisfied sigh.

"The thing about that mission, Cody,” he said after a moment, “was that it was my first real experience with the sticky, ambiguous substances that grease the wheels of the Republic. I, of course, acted in accordance with the Jedi, and thus the Republic government, earning myself only the ire of my Master, the betrayal of a monarchy, and nearly costing me my life," Obi-wan chuckled, a dark, cynical sound that set Cody's teeth on edge. What was going on?

Obi-wan hopped out of the speeder, giving a small grin as he shrugged out of his out Jedi tunic. "How times change, I suppose."

Cody didn't move to follow, didn't say a word in response. He sat, staring at this person who was, on the surface, Obi-wan Kenobi, but in no way resembled the man he had come to know. Or, at least, thought he had come to know.

His agitation must have been visible, probably the equivalent of a Gungan marching band in Force, as Obi-wan paused, a dark blue, long-sleeved tunic with a high collar pulled halfway over his head. He stared at Cody for a moment before finishing the movement, smoothing out the material of the unfamiliar garment over his chest.

Obi-wan stepped forward with a small sigh. "And now Cody, I suppose I owe you an explanation."

The half-apology - words that sounded like Obi-wan, even if they came from a man who didn't resemble him at all - pulled Cody from his emotional stupor, fires of disbelief stoking somewhere deep in his chest. In one smooth movement, he hopped out of the speeder, striding to Obi-wan, fists clenched, teeth grit, his face so close to other man's Cody could feel the Jedi's hot exhales on his nose.

Obi-wan regarded him with muted curiosity. "Do you intend on striking me?" he asked.

"I'm really tempted to," Cody grit. "Sir," he added, not quite able to break the habit.

"Then let me offer you a compromise, of sorts. We should be safe here, for the time being, at least long enough for me to provide what I hope is an explanation of today's turn of events. I do not expect you to like it, nor to necessarily agree with it, but certain circumstances have pushed me into a situation where a decision - a monumental decision, I may add - had to be made."

"If, after hearing me out, you wish to strike me, you are most welcome to, as I do believe you have earned that right. You will also be free to leave and return to the 212th at that point. That little stunt with the security camera should serve as more than enough evidence that you were coerced by a renegade Jedi and I am certain you will be welcomed back into the GAR with open arms."

"However," Obi-wan’s expression darkened, the drawled word imbued with an almost sensuous promise. "If, after hearing me out, you find yourself - " he cocked his head back and forth, pretending to be searching for the right language. "Sympathetic to my plight, then I would welcome your expertise, skills, and company."

Cody took a small step back. That...kind of sounded more like the General - the negotiation, the smooth justification. Certainly, Cody hoped Obi-wan had a reason for all of this, that he hadn't completely snapped or worse, gone dark. He didn't seem like Ventress, or Dooku, but Cody didn't know enough about the Sith or the dark side to make any kind of real judgment call.

But even with the promise of finally getting some kind of explanation, there was another question that had been niggling at the back of Cody's mind since this all began, brought forward by Obi-wan's sudden invitation.

"Why me, sir?"

The inquiry apparently took the Jedi by surprise, his eyebrows rising in some odd combination of amusement and approval. "Because, Cody - I trust you. And I hope you will feel the same way after I explain just what has happened in the past few weeks."

#hello there #obi wan kenobi #cody #writing #obi wan on trial au #i have...no idea what i'm doing with this #the cody scene just kind...came to me #what will happen next?#the author has no idea #jesus i'm tired #i have no idea what the quality is on this so apoligies in advance #on top of insomnoa i had a 1.5 hour interview at 7am due to time zone shenanigans and i am ROLLING right now

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dust2dust34 · 5 years ago

Text

Four Walls (Of Law Firms and Honey) - Olicity AU, Explicit

Summary: Oliver is Felicity’s boss at Queen & Queen, a prestigious international law firm. She’s the tech genius, he’s the top dog’s son, and they viciously disagree on nearly everything. Despite that, they work together, neither outright acknowledging the ever-present simmering attraction that has slowly been growing hotter and hotter…

Until a chance meeting at a grocery store one night has them crossing a line, a tiny little line that was never meant to be crossed.

A collection of ficlets in the same ‘verse: Of Law Firms and Honey.

Rated: Explicit

Full fic: AO3 | Tumblr | Timeline

Reminder: Please read the story tags and notes at the beginning of each chapter.

This fic is being told out of order. Please see the timeline to read them in order. Please see the previous installments for additional author notes and story information.

Check out the Four Walls playlist, and if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!

Additional A/N: This is the other ficlet I planned for a generous donor in the Fic For Food Drive I took part in. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Chapter Summary: Flash Fic #4. She finds him in a coffee shop.

(read on AO3)

8:27 a.m. Gilded Bean (Flash Fic #4)

The bustle of the coffee shop encompassed him in a pleasant haze.

Sipping his coffee, Oliver scrolled through his email on his phone, enjoying the relaxing slant of his shoulders caused by the chatter behind him, the footsteps of people hustling to the counter, the distinct sound of beverages being crafted. It complimented the busy downtown street outside the window he faced, the people rushing by, cars stopping and going, the sky clear for once, letting sunshine spill on the world.

He savored it, knowing he would be going back to his quiet office for the board meeting in thirty minutes.

Pinpricks of anxiety slithered over him.

Oliver sucked in a breath and quickly looked up at the busy world. His fingers tightened around his coffee cup, so hard the top nearly popped off. He fixed his eyes on signs of life - the strands falling from a woman’s braid, a man digging in his back pocket, a dog prancing by on a thin leash, the woman walking it staring at her phone, a dent in a passing car, a man talking to someone in the backseat of another car, pieces of hair sticking to the corner of someone’s mouth, a woman’s lips as she sang along to whatever came out of her headphones.

He clung to everything before him, holding it close, despite being outside of all of it.

A chime told him he had fifteen minutes to get back to the office.

He didn’t move. Instead, eyes not straying from the mosaic of life, he set his phone down and rubbed his thumb along the ridge of his index finger. The motion soothed him enough that he settled, his heart rate slowing. He calculated how long he could stay until he had to run back to the office to make it in time.

Six minutes.

Ten if he really booked it.

“Hey.”

Oliver froze.

For a split second he wondered if he was imagining it. He’d heard her voice enough over the last several months, whispering through his thoughts, and dreamt about it even more than that. It had become a permanent fixture in his mind during those days drifting on the ocean, memories coming to life, haunting him until he wasn’t sure if he was praying for death or for her.

A hint of her perfume sliced through the smell of coffee.

Oliver breathed it in, deeply, as the warmth of a person sitting down next to him fully registered.

Holding his breath, he turned.

His heart slammed into the floor.

God, she was a sight for sore eyes. She looked the same - her hair back in a high ponytail, dark-framed glasses, bright pop of color on her lips, her earrings exactly how he remembered them - but she was different, too. Calmer. Softer. A casual confidence made the air around her shimmer.

She was stunning, even more than he remembered, and all he could do was stare as the full breadth of how much he missed her hit him square in the chest.

“Felicity.”

A hint of a smile touched her lips and the quiet beauty of it shredded his insides.

“Don’t think I’ll ever be used to that,” she said with a little laugh.

Oliver huffed out a noise, something caught between a chuckle and a grunt, mostly because he felt like he should acknowledge her words somehow. And because his voice was gone.

He stared at her, his mind whirling.

He hadn’t seen her since the bluff last year, their bluff, a few weeks after he’d been found in the North China Sea. She’d found him on the cliff’s edge, staring at the water crashing into the rocks down below. To this day, he still didn’t know if he would have jumped, but then it hadn’t mattered, because she was there. And the second she touched him, he’d fallen apart, collapsing into her arms, breaking under the weight of all of it.

… the Gambit flipping in the frenzied sea, going under… terrified shouts for help from the crew before the ocean tore them away… his father shooting the captain in the face… propping himself on the edge of the raft, telling Oliver it was the only way before putting a bullet in his own head… Oliver’s frantic screams as he fought the rough ocean waves to get his father’s body back… the sea sweeping his father away, so far away, taking the gun with him… floating, for days on end, so many days, knowing he was going to die… hoping for it… wishing for it… so much that when the shadow of the freighter appeared, he finally felt a modicum of peace knowing it was all over…

But it wasn’t. He was still alive.

And the world was unchanged, unaffected, unaware.

She was the only one who knew what had happened out there. The words had come tumbling out in a fervor of raw emotion, running together, his tears blurring the edges until he was nothing but a sobbing mess that she held together all through the night.

Then that was it. They went back to their separate lives - her to a life that didn’t involve him, and him to continue his life with McKenna.

Except here she was, in all her beautiful glory, glowing with all the light he’d taken for granted.

“Hi,” he whispered.

It was all he had.

Her brow furrowed and he watched that familiar line appear between her brows. It always announced her troubled thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to hide them. His mouth went dry. Was she regretting sitting here? Did she wish she’d turned and left instead? They didn’t have much of anything to say anymore, did they? Not now. Not after everything. But the thought of her walking away again sent a white hot knife slicing through his gut and Oliver opened his mouth to beg her not to leave, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it…

She didn’t leave.

With a tiny whisper of his name, Felicity grasped his hand.

Choking on a surge of emotion, Oliver’s eyes dropped to where she touched him. How many times had they touched? In how many ways? Hundreds. Thousands. It was countless, and yet it felt like the first time he was feeling her skin against his. She was as soft as ever, and so damned warm. It wasn’t until this moment that he fully appreciated just how frozen he still was at his core.

His fingers curled around hers, his heart cracking when she held him back.

His phone chimed.

Oliver started, blinking rapidly, only realizing in that moment that tears had been filling his eyes. He swallowed hard as he glanced at his phone.

Five minutes.

“Damn it,” he breathed.

She tugged her hand out of his and the loss carved a jagged hole in his center.

“I have to go, too, actually,” Felicity said, sliding off the barstool. Her front grazed his arm in the miniscule space between them before she stepped free. She offered him another smile. “It was good seeing you, Oliver.”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Absently. Automatically. Blankly. Just going through the motions.

Which was all he’d been doing, wasn’t it? For months now. Floating through life, doing what he thought he was supposed to do, filling shoes he felt woefully inadequate in, going home to someone who barely pierced the surface of his heart.

And he was doing it here, with her.

He didn’t want to be numb anymore.

Oliver surged off his barstool, towards her. The coffee shop was busy, people loitering in line, baristas yelling names, glasses hitting tabletops, utensils hitting plates. All of it was suddenly so viciously clear that it hurt his ears, but none of it mattered as he looked at her.

A thousand words hovered on his tongue. None of them came out, nothing but…

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Felicity said, her smile warming. She grasped his bicep and pushed up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. Oliver’s eyes slammed shut and he instinctively leaned into her, his heart damn near ricocheting off his chest plate when she lingered for a second longer than necessary. Her lips moved over his stubble as she said, “Of course.”

As if it was a given.

As if he deserved it.

Oliver let out a ragged exhale and pressed his cheek to hers. She paused, but she didn’t pull away, like he thought she would. Like she probably should. Instead her hand tightened on his arm and then she pressed back, a stuttered breath dancing over the shell of his ear.

They lingered there, caught in the in-between, suspended between the past and the present, and a future that didn’t exist.

He knew nothing about her life anymore. He didn’t know what she had been up to. He didn’t know what she did with her time. He had specifically gone out of his way to avoid looking her up, because it was a closed door that needed to stay that way.

But she was also here, right here, right before him.

“Felicity,” he whispered, his hands finding her elbows, tentative, unsure.

I miss you.

With a ragged gasp, Felicity slid her arm around his neck and tugged him into her.

Relief shot through him and he sagged into her arms.

They hugged each other, tight, grasping, clinging so tight it hurt. Her nails bit through his jacket, a whimper he hoped he wasn’t imagining slipping out as she used her hold on him to yank him down closer to her. He pulled her flush against him, burying his face in her shoulder, and then her neck. The lapel of her jacket got in the way and he nosed it out of the way so he could breathe in that unique scent that was all Felicity. She smelled so good, so perfect, and something deep inside him slid into place, a missing piece he hadn’t realized was missing. A piece he hadn’t wanted to admit was missing. Because he needed it, like the air in his lungs, and the thought of living life without it for even one more second had him gasping her name again and pulling her in even more.

He had to leave. So did she. They had lives to live, lives that didn’t involve each other anymore.

But neither of them moved, not until someone bumped into them, breaking the moment. Even then, when they parted, they lingered in each other’s bubble, so much flying between them that he didn’t know where to begin thinking about it, much less talk about it.

They did finally part, though, and went their separate ways.

But they didn’t say anything, because they didn’t have to.

This was enough.

It had to be.

Thank you for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #arrow fic #oliver queen #felicity smoak #of law firms and honey #four walls #my fics #my fics: au #dust2dust34 #arrow #fanfiction

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lia-jones · 4 years ago

Text

His Worst Nightmare - Halloween Ficlet

Author’s note: Ladies and Gentlemen, here it is, my halloween ficlet! Please be warned before you keep reading, this ficlet has a great deal of angst, and talks about murder, suicide, and mentions miscarriage. This is about going to the depths of human despair, so if you are easily triggered, tread lightly or avoid entirely.

Teaser: Victor wasn't afraid of ghosts or witches, but in a blink of an eye, his worst nightmare came true.

“Ok, wait for them to leave, they’re almost done signing the marriage certificates.” Mia ordered, full on business mode. “You, you, and you,” she pointed at the photographers, “stay alert at the reception tent, they will be coming out any second. And make sure you get good shots!” She watched them go in a hurry. “This is Victor Lee’s wedding, after all. Everything needs to be perfect.” Mia mumbled to herself.

The newlyweds left the gazebo, photographers surrounding them, the guests throwing rose petals and confetti at the happy couple. Mia couldn’t help her surprise by seeing Victor smile so much. He, who was usually so grim and serious, was now smiling grinning widely, the excitement in his eyes reminding her of kids before opening Christmas presents. That was joy. Happiness. Mia suddenly remembered her wedding and how she felt, the memory making her heart grow bigger for Victor. He deserved this. So did Andrea.

She directed her thoughts back to reality. She had a wedding to document.

“Ok, guys, get ready for the announcement.” She warned her staff, as she watched Andrea’s brother walk to the entrance of the wedding venue.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He extended his arm towards the couple ceremoniously. “I give you the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Lee!”

There was a round of applause and Victor and Andrea waved, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her lovingly against him.

“Victor!” Mia called. “A kiss for the picture!”

Victor and Andrea turned to each other with loving eyes and a soft smile, their lips meeting as their arms softly wrapped around each other, eyes closing softly with the tenderness of each other’s touches.

“Ok, guys! I want the perfect shot!” Mia warned her staff.

Yes, there was a shot. The sound of a gun blasted through the blue sky and the tranquil landscape, making birds go on a frenzied flight, and everybody jump with alarm.

The happy couple gave a startled jump back, and Victor, grimacing, his complexion pale as a ghost, looked down to his chest, now red with blood. Someone screamed.

Victor’s eyes turned from pain to a panicked expression as Andrea collapsed into his arms, Victor barely able to catch her in time. A red spot started to grow rapidly on her back, staining her wedding gown.

“No, no, no, no, no, NO! ANDREA!” Victor cried. “Help! I need help!”

There was a commotion, people running in all directions in panic. Mia froze in the middle of the frenzied crowd, watching Victor take his wife in his arms and run inside the tent, laying her down in one of the tables that someone had emptied in a rush. Members of the family followed, circling the couple in panic, trying to assist.

“Andrea, stay with me!” He fumbled, trying to press the wound, but there was blood everywhere, in his shirt, in his arms and face, pooling on the table and falling to the ground. “Stay with me, help is on the way. Andrea! ANDY!”

Victor held her face, making her face him, pleading for her to keep her eyes open for him. But it was too late. With a heavy sigh, Andrea’s eyes fluttered closed, her bloody hand leaving the wound on her chest and flopping down the table, lifeless.

It was like time stood still. For a second, Victor could do nothing but watch as life left Andrea’s body, the flame extinguished. In that second, it was like everything around him died too. His expression morphed into one of utter despair, like everything he had good in him had simply vanished with Andrea’s last breath.

Mariana and Joshua screamed, running to the now breathless bride, but Victor didn’t even seem to register them. It was like the world had ceased to exist for him, and he couldn’t hear or see anything anymore, not even his painful howls as he held his loved one to his chest. A few minutes ago, they were happy, smiling. It took mere seconds for that happiness to crumble to pieces, leaving Victor a raw, open, painful sore. She was gone. Gone forever. It was inconceivable. It couldn’t be true.

Mia watched in tears as her friend held the love of his life in anguish, painful sobs wracking his body, desperate hands clinging to whatever he had left of her. Never in her life had she seen someone so broken. Andrea had been laughing just a while ago, and now she was merely a shell of skin and bones, covered in blood. Her face was serene and expressionless, the smile gone, the spark gone, her light faded.

And for some time, all the people in the room could do was helplessly watch in tears as Victor’s heart was ripped apart slowly and painfully, holding his biggest treasure in his arms, crying like a child.

______________________________________________________________

“It’s been almost half an hour.” The captain complained to Gavin. “We need to take the body for autopsy. A crime has occurred, we can’t just leave him there with her.”

“Any DNA you can find in her is hers or his, and the bullet went through and through, so it’s probably in him.” Gavin’s voice was shaky as he spoke. He knew Andrea, she was his wife’s friend. He could only imagine the CEO’s pain, holding his dead wife in his arms, on their wedding day. He was sure that if it was him and Mia, he would’ve gone insane. “Give him a little more time.”

“We can’t just leave him in there with a dead body!” The captain fretted. “This is a crime scene.”

“The dead body is my friend.” Gavin gave a menacing step towards the captain. “He just lost his wife. Give him ten minutes. If he’s not outside by then, I’ll go get him myself.”

“You’re different since you left STF for whatever job you got now.” The man spat, disgusted. “You used to abide by the rules. Now it’s like they are meaningless to you.”

“It’s not the rules I have a problem with, it’s the ones who make them. And what I follow or who I follow is none of your business.” Turning his back on the former colleague, Gavin ended the exchange.

Gavin knew Victor wasn’t one to easily give up on his ways, and it would surely prove to be even worse while grieving. And he wanted to avoid a scene at all cost, the whole situation being as painful as it was. He would have to tread lightly.

“Maybe you should go and talk to him, try to make him come outside willingly.” He asked his wife with a heavy heart. “I would ask her mother, but I can’t possibly do that.”

“What can I say?” Mia asked, uneasy. “What can I possibly tell him that will help him? I would be destroyed if it were you.”

Gavin didn’t reply. He had no idea. No one did. Even Victor’s assistant seemed lost, sitting on a corner with his wife, who was crying her eyes out.

That day a life was lost, but more than that, a dream was shattered. Not just for Victor and Andrea, but all the present. They all knew what Andrea had been through, how much both had to overcome in their personal lives to be together, and how they stood together, through it all. The people that didn’t know them personally saw them as a symbol of power, the people close to them saw them as a symbol of hope. And the hope in everyone’s hearts had died with a gunshot.

______________________________________________________________

“When I saw you walking down the aisle today, you took my breath away.” Victor whispered to the unresponsive Andrea in his arms, kissing her forehead softly. “I was so happy to have you and call you mine. My whole life, I have never been this happy.” Victor’s throat tightened. “I love you. I love you so much.” He leaned his forehead against hers, his nose lovingly touching hers. “What will I do now? What the hell am I going to do now? I can’t move on, you can’t ask me that.” He wiped his tears from her face, blood and salty water mixing on her skin. “I won’t be able to live without you. It’s torture.” The words gave way to sobs, that once again made his body shake in agony. He was lost. He was dead. He wished he was dead.

“Victor…” He heard Mia speak from the entrance of the tent. “Can I come in?”

“I will not let her go.” He warned bitterly.

He was sitting on the ground, his back painfully supported on one of the tent's pillars, cradling Andrea’s bloody body in his arms. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, hiding her from the world. The world had hurt her enough. He would protect her, even if just in these last moments, since he hadn’t been able to do so in the moment that mattered.

“I know the bullet landed on you, you need to get that checked.” Mia argued softly.

“I’m fine, it didn’t kill me.” He distracted himself again gazing at Andrea’s expressionless face, her lips a soft shade of purple, softly stroking her eyelashes, drinking in as much detail as he could. “I wish it would. I wish it would kill me instead of her.” He offered bitterly.

“Victor…” Mia tried again.

“NO!” His voice roared once more inside the tent, as he looked at her with wide eyes, filled with anger and tears. “I just lost her! I lost everything! Why are you doing this to me? I can’t let her go. The moment I do…” He paused, lowering his head towards his wife, suddenly losing all his strength. “I lose everything. I have nothing left.” His tears fell one after another, landing on Andrea’s now crimson dress. “Please don’t make me.”

“Can I see her?” He heard a familiar voice speak from the entrance, filled with pain and tears.

It was Mariana. Victor felt like a sharp pain in his chest, like somehow the bullet had left his rib and buried itself deeper inside him, making it hard to breathe. He fought for air, as the sobs only grew stronger. This was her child. Andrea was a bright light in many lives, not just his. Her family was also suffering a great deal with her death. He slackened his grip on his loved one, extending her limp body to her mother.

Mariana approached slowly and kneeled in front of them. A trembling hand rested on the bride’s face, moving to her golden curls, now mostly red.

“I still can’t believe that this happened.” She looked at Victor. “Who would do this?”

“This is all my fault.” Victor replied, feeling weak and ashamed. “It was probably someone who hated me, which is not hard to find in Loveland. They killed her because I loved her.” He started sobbing uncontrollably again. “I’m sorry.” He croaked between sobs. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t say that.” Mariana reached for his arm, offering comfort. “You didn’t do this.”

Victor didn’t want comfort. He wanted Andrea.

“IT IS MY FAULT!” He howled again, losing his temper. “I failed her. I failed to protect her, I should have expected this, I should’ve known better, and I failed. WHY AM I NOT THE ONE PAYING FOR MY MISTAKES? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE HER?”

Victor was a sobbing mess, all the pain inside him set free, on display, for the world to see. Mariana cried with him, joined in the pain of losing someone they could not live without. Mia, on the sidelines, shed some tears as well.

“Victor.” Gavin called from the entrance of the tent, letting some nurses and a forensic team in. “I’m sorry, we can't delay this much longer. I held them back as much as I could.”

To Victor, the next moments were all a blur. He fought valiantly to keep her with him, only to lose. In a matter of minutes, she was ripped from his arms and stuck inside a black plastic bag, like she was nobody, like she was just a corpse, like she wasn’t the most precious person to ever set foot on this Earth. The moment she left the warmth of his arms, it was like his heart was ripped from inside him and taken with her. He felt an agonizing emptiness, even colder than her cold body, and he simply lost it. He screamed, he wasn’t sure what, but he screamed until his voice failed. He shoved and punched and kicked every person that would go near him, just for the sake of sharing his misery. He felt the prick of a needle on his shoulder, his body immediately too heavy to move, and the darkness came. He welcomed it, hoping whatever was in that syringe would kill him.

_______________________________________________________________

Victor woke up slowly, his brain still foggy, trying to grasp reality, trying to figure out where he possibly could be, and why. He opened his eyes and saw Mariana by his side, her eyes puffy and red. The question in his mind took forever to be formed on his lips. He already knew the answer to it, but the hope was something that soothed him, at least for a little while.

“Was it a nightmare?” He heard his voice, so very weak, barely inaudible.

Mariana’s eyes filled with tears, and she simply shook her head.

“Why are you here with me?” She was supposed to be with her, not him. He didn’t matter, he was hopeless. Unimportant. Nothing could help him. It made him sick to know that someone cared about him. He was unworthy, he hadn’t been able to protect her.

“She wouldn’t want me to be anywhere else.” Tears fell repeatedly as she spoke, and Victor felt sicker. She was also hurting, she had lost her child, and she was worrying about him. The remnants of Andrea’s love through their family, caring for him. He turned his face from her so she wouldn’t see him cry.

“They found the shooter.” He heard her again. “It was Daniel. He climbed a tree and hid there until she was in his line of sight. He killed himself in a hotel room with the very same rifle, left a note confessing the crime.”

Victor felt a wave of fury course through his body, shaking him to the core. The coward wasn’t even able to take the punishment for his crime like a man, he ended life on his terms after he extinguished the most beautiful flame in this world. After the fury, came the guilt. He should have seen it coming. He should have increased security, he should have thrown that scum in jail when he had the chance, he should’ve done a better job protecting her, he should have…

Despair hit him hard, and he was sobbing again, overwhelmed with self-loathing. The hate was in his blood, bitter and boiling, coming out through every pore of his skin. Something inside him snapped, and he just couldn’t take it anymore. The world blurred again as his rage took over, and he ripped off his IV, going next to the bandage on his chest. Why didn’t that bullet kill him? Why didn’t it pierce through him, and put an end to his misery? Why did it stay lodged in his rib, evil and taunting, keeping him alive to go through this torture? Arms wrapped around him and he only relaxed when he heard the precious name, Andrea. Andrea wouldn’t want this, Victor. Andrea would hate to see you like this. You need to be strong for Andrea.

He could feel the blood trickle down his chest and pool on Mariana’s shirt, and the arms around him, and the nurses in the room. Her tears on his shoulders, his tears on hers.

“Please, just let me die.” His plea was merely a whisper. “I don’t want to feel anymore.”

If there was a God, He probably heard him. The needle came again, and Victor knew nothing else.

_______________________________________________________________

“It’s beautiful here.” She spoke, leaning on his chest. “So peaceful.”

They were both lying on the grass, watching the lake, as Onyx and Naia got their deserved rest after some time galloping. Victor nudged his nose in her curls, taking in her scent.

“We can come here every weekend if you want to.” He offered. “My aunt loves having you here.”

“I particularly love this willow tree.” She sat up to touch the willow branches, leaving his embrace.

“Come back here, I’m getting cold.” He complained, pulling her to him again.

“You’re always the one telling me to put on clothes.” She teased him. “Why don’t you follow your own advice and put on your jacket?”

“I’m not that cold.” He held her tighter. “But I was warmer with you close to me.”

She nudged his chest, and Victor knew what that meant. It meant I love you.

“Did I tell you about the olive tree on top of the mountain, in my grandmother’s property?” She asked, eyes staring at the blue sky.

“The one no one harvests from?” Victor recalled that the tree remained untouched during olive picking. “Why is that?”

Andrea rolled on his chest to face him, her chin resting softly on his sternum. He tucked an astray curl behind her ear.

“My great-grandfather used to sit under that tree and watch the whole land from above, making his plans. Sometimes he would take my great-grandmother and just watch the stars with her. When they died, my grandmother buried them there, under their tree.” She rolled back to her initial position, watching the lake. “It must be nice, to belong to a tree like that. Instead of a depressing cemetery, we become one with nature. You’ll always have a beautiful view and children can play and rest under your shade. I think I would like that”

Victor stared at the sky, not knowing what to say. He never liked to discuss something as gruesome as death, especially if it involved her. Andrea shifted again, coming close to his cheek, kissing it softly. With a smile, he turned in her direction, his nose touching hers.

“Victor…”

“Yes, my light.” He smiled at her.

“You know I’m dead, right?” She looked at him with worried eyes.

“Andy…” The memory dawned on him and he held her tighter, tears in his eyes. She was right. He would never see her again.

“Will you bury me under the willow tree?”

He woke up with a start, only to find his hands restrained. The room was different too. He was probably in some psychiatric ward, he assumed.

“Hummingbird.” He heard his aunt call, from the opposite corner of the room. “How are you feeling?”

Irrelevant. He had no time to waste with idiotic questions.

“Where’s Goldman? We need to make arrangements.” For her funeral. But he couldn’t say the words yet.

Terry looked at him with sad eyes.

“He won’t be able to be here now. Diane lost her baby.”

_______________________________________________________________

“Mr. Lee, do you understand you were committed to this place under the assumption that you were a danger to yourself and others?”

The books were piled up on the desk randomly. Unorganized, falling askew on one another. Wasn’t she supposed to be a mental health professional? Why would she keep her desk like that? How could she do a good job surrounded by clutter like that?

“Yes. I am no longer a threat to anyone.” He replied, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Do you have someone to be assigned as your supervisor? To be responsible for your actions for the following weeks?” The doctor asked, smiling at him. Why was she smiling? Didn’t she know why he was there in the first place?

Victor shook his head, ready to refuse. Even if someone cared enough to take such a role, he did not deserve the attention. Besides, he did not need the babysitting, as he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. At that moment, his focus was on Andrea.

“I do not nee-”

“I’ll be his supervisor.” Terry intervened. “He will be staying at my place for the time being.”

“You and your supervisor need to sign the release at the lobby, as well as your consent to follow the Care Treatment Plan.” The doctor got up and extended her hand to Victor. “Feel better.”

Victor didn’t shake it. He got up and left.

A Care Treatment Plan meant medication. A full cabinet worth of it. Victor immediately decided he would take none or all of it at the same time, although he didn’t voice this idea to his aunt. He was given a plastic bag with his personal items. Expeditiously, he put it in his pocket.

He entered the car and fastened his seatbelt, turning immediately to the window. He couldn’t look at his aunt, he knew she would cry at any moment. She would want to talk about it. Victor didn’t want to talk. Or listen. Or feel. Or even exist.

“You look serene.” It was a question disguised as a statement. He didn’t answer.

Giving up on making him talk, his aunt turned the key in the ignition, willing the motor to life. After a while, Victor retrieved from his pocket the plastic bag he was given. He could almost hear her voice again, her warm hand around his.

Victor, with this ring I give you my all, promising to love you and cherish you, in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, now and forever.

Victor took out his wedding ring, matte platinum with three small blue diamonds to match the one on Andrea’s. With a shaky hand, he put his ring back on.

“Where’s the other?”

“The other?” Terry looked at him, puzzled.

Victor sighed heavily, not ready to start the unbearable subject. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. But he needed to know.

“Hers.” His voice was merely a whisper. Never in his life had it been so hard to utter a single word.

There was a pregnant silence filling the space between them.

“At my place.” He could feel her eyes on him as she replied, worried, observant. She cleared her throat, turning on the radio, probably hoping some music will make the mood less tense. Soon enough, a song he didn’t recognize was on.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

When the night was full of terrors, and your eye-

Terry fumbled with the radio, trying to change stations.

… the dramatic story of Andrea Jones, now recently named Andrea Lee, who died from a fatal gunshot-

“Fuck!” Terry turned off the radio. Victor reached for the button to turn it on again.

… husband, Victor Lee, the reputable owner and CEO of Loveland Financial Group, was committed yesterday to a psychiatric facility that remains unknown, to recover from the shocking event. Andrea Lee had a brilliant career as a Head Researcher for Loveland University and had recently published a study about fair trade and smart strategies for cooperation between small companies. The institution posted a statement on their webpage presenting condolences to the family complimenting Dr. Lee and her work, revealing she was one of the strongest candidates for a GESA award this year.”

Victor smiled weakly, turning off the radio. She would’ve loved this. She worked so hard, every single day. She truly deserved it.

“That’s nice.” His aunt commented with a strained voice.

“Yes, it is.” Victor turned to his window again, swallowing tears. Silence filled the car again.

“Do you need to go to your apartment to get something?”

The answer was yes. But he was scared. At that moment, his heart was held by a very fragile thread, a thread that was linked to his wife. He feared that, should he cut it by facing the hideous truth of an existence without her, he would fall apart, like a puppet without a master. All these years, he had wandered alone, with no real purpose. But once he found Andrea, everything changed. All his hopes and dreams were on her, she was the vessel for everything good in his life. Now, he couldn’t just go back. He didn’t know how.

People say one can’t miss what one never had. But Victor did have it, for a wonderful year. And he foolishly took it for granted, only to have a coward take it away for good. Forever was not the forever he hoped for.

He wished he could explain that to someone, that the pain was so heavy in his chest he could barely breathe. Andrea would want that, for him to reach out, to seek consolation. But he didn’t have this many words in him, so he uttered just the one.

“Please.”

_______________________________________________________________

Victor entered the house slowly, placing his keys on the end table in the hallway. Walking a little further, he paused in front of the living room’s door, the bedroom wing further down to his right.

He had read somewhere that houses are like books, for they tell the stories of the people that lived there. Their hopes and dreams, their fights and long deep-felt conversations, all invisibly painted in the house’s walls, a testimony that no one would probably read, but it was still there, silently present. And yes, every single wall of his apartment held the story of the woman that came into his life and filled it with beauty and warmth, chasing away his ghosts, leaving only the good she saw in him.

Victor recalled the last moment he had entered his apartment. She had music playing. He could hear in the back of his mind the first chords of the song, the same one she liked to play on her piano when she was in a good mood.

When I think of those east end lights

Muggy nights the curtains drawn

In the little room downstairs

Prima donna Lord you really should have been there

Sittin' like a princess perched in her electric chair

And it's one more beer and I don't hear you anymore

We've all gone crazy lately

My friend's out there rolling 'round the basement floor

(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh...)

He walked into the bedroom, the music now hopelessly stuck in his head. As he took her rose lace dress from the closet, the one she wore on their first date, the memories of her became more vivid, walking around the room barefoot, wearing only panties and her ridiculously old Donald Duck sweater.

“I know, I know, I’m late, but not as late as you think!” She defended herself, running around the room, picking items here and there while Victor watched her, amused.

She paused in front of him on her way to the shower, pulling him down for a kiss.

“A quick shower and I’ll be done, promise.” She smiled, turning to leave. He held her arms, raising a playful eyebrow at her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Aren’t we late?” She gave him a quizzical look.

“Not if you keep your word and don’t spend eternity in that shower.” She glared at him, making him chuckle. “I just spoke to my aunt. They’re not expecting us for the next three hours.”

“So I have been running around for nothing? You could’ve told me sooner.” She complained.

“Not for nothing.” He kissed her cheek, tracing her skin to the nape of her neck with his breath. “You ran into my arms.” He then proceeded to remove from her arms every single item she was holding, one by one, throwing them carelessly on the bed, making her laugh. “Much better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying to the music.

“I thought you didn’t like this music.” She teased.

“I don’t” He was busy nudging his face into the sweet cocoon her curls provided. “But the pleasure of dancing isn’t about the music.” He smiled into her ear. “It’s about the dance partner.”

She leaned her head towards him, retributing tenderness.

“Can you believe we are getting married tomorrow?”

“Mhm.” Victor hummed with his eyes closed, enjoying her pleasant scent, and how she moved her body against his.

“After we’re married, I want to dance with you like this every day.”

She felt so warm, so soft. Victor could spend his entire life like this, holding her in his arms, losing himself in her perfume.

“You have my word.”

After never came. After was filled with hopelessness and despair. He went to the kitchen to get a ziplock bag, perfectly aware of how present she was in that division as well: the fridge was covered with her magnets, some pressing into place pictures of them together. All of these things were daggers in his already wounded heart.

With a sigh, he returned to the bedroom and took her sweater, folding in neatly and placing it in the bag, along with her pillowcase.

After retrieving a few more items, he sat on the bed, staring at the wall. Indeed, these walls had Andrea written all over them. It was remarkable how someone so small could fill such a large space like that. Part of him told him he would have to move to another place, living there with all those memories would be the death of him. Simultaneously, another part of him urged him to stay and cling to her presence, drink it all, until yes, he would die inebriated.

The doorbell rang, probably his aunt coming to pick him up.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her trained eyes on him.

With a nod, he walked to the door, prepared to leave. Until something caught his eye. He took a slow step back.

The water in the aquarium had a somewhat murky color, which didn’t make much sense. Had something fallen into the tank? Then he saw it. His pet, lying sideways, unmoving. Mr. Lobster was dead.

You’re a fool to believe it would be any different. You have the touch of death, causing the demise of those that dare to love you. In the end, it won’t matter. You will still die alone.

The voice in his head was cruel, taunting. And Victor’s small shred of resolve, the fragile glue that was holding all of his broken pieces together, dissolved instantly. Even the lobster had given up on a world where Andrea didn’t exist.

“He’s dead.” He whispered, feeling his body starting to shake. “How did this happen? HOW IS HE DEAD?!”

“Victor…” His aunt grabbed his arms, trying to calm him down. But he was already at the point of no return.

“NO!” He screamed, shoving her away. “MY WIFE DIED! My pet died! Goldman’s baby died! It’s like all the good in this Earth is leaving!” Tears were flowing freely now, Victor felt like he could collapse at any moment. He leaned against the wall for support. “Why can’t I be with the people I love? Why do they leave me every time? Why? Why didn’t I die with her, or instead of her? What was my crime, that I have to be punished like this? What was hers!?” Again, he screamed until his voice failed, he summoned all his demons out, hoping some of them would leave him alone. His aunt held him, and this time he let her. He sobbed in her arms until he had no more tears in him.

______________________________________________________________

He felt the bed dip beside him. Suppressing a smug smile, he decided to pretend to be asleep. A few seconds after, a soft arm wrapped around his waist. He had been right, she wouldn’t be able to sleep without him.

He quickly and suddenly turned to face her, making her jump slightly with the surprise.

“Finally.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She complained, nudging her nose on his chest. “Missed you.”

“What makes you think I’m going to let you sleep?” He moved on top of her. “I have other plans for you.” He started kissing her neck, moving to her ear, to that sweet spot he knew would get her in the mood. The sweet mewl she let out was enough to get him hard.

“Mr. Lee, I can’t.” She pushed him away, even though he could tell she was starting to get aroused as well. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“To that idiot? He will have you for the rest of his life.” He teased. “Tonight is for us, and us alone.” He bit her bottom lip softly, making her gasp. “Make love to me.”

“Victor?” He felt a soft hand on his shoulder, apparently coming from the same source as the sound. “Wake up, Hummingbird. Time to get ready.”

“Ready for what?” He groggily opened one eye, finding his aunt by his bed. His hand instinctively touched the spot beside him on the mattress, finding it cold and empty. “Where’s Andrea?”

Silence. His aunt was looking at him with misty eyes, lip quivering, unable to answer. The memory of the last few days hit him like a stinging slap across the face.

“Victor…” His aunt moved to embrace him. He pushed her away.

“I’m not senile. Just sleepy.” He tightened his grip over his emotions, afraid to fall apart again. “Give me ten minutes.”

He let himself stand still under the hot water, trying to will his senses to acknowledge any kind of comfort. He felt numb, desensitized, a shell of his former self, like most of what made him had died with her. Safe in his solitude, he let his mind drift back to her. Although the pain was very present, part of him still couldn’t believe it. If Daniel hadn't decided to destroy his life, they would be in Bali. Instead, he was getting ready for her funeral.

So much had changed since she came into his life. He was usually so good at putting feelings aside, building layers and layers on them, burying them deep within himself, but now all he wanted to do was cry and let them out, the burden too heavy to carry inside his chest. This was her fault. She made him abandon his logical approach to the world, by showing him life was more than facts and figures, and was actually filled with feelings that taught lessons, and made life beautiful. He desperately needed back those facts and figures, and the walls he had been so skilled at building, but he didn’t know how to work with them anymore, now that he knew there was so much more.

He picked up a black suit, a black shirt, and her favorite tie, the silk black one with very thin stripes that were only noticeable under the light.

“I don’t understand that love of yours for black.” He heard her tease. “People will think you’re going to a funeral.”

He dropped the tie to the floor, breathing heavily, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Carefully, he looked around, to find no one in the room except for him. Maybe he had been too hasty to leave the psychiatric ward, as he was clearly going insane. He could almost see her sitting on the bed, one leg tucked under her while the other dangled on the bed, talking to him, that sweet smile always on her lips.

“Wear the shirt I gave you. It brings out your eyes.”

He grimaced in pain. He missed her so much it physically hurt. What would he do without her? How could he live without hearing her voice every day, teasing him, playfully pointing out his quirks, comforting him?

Without a second thought, he opened his suitcase, pulling out a neatly folded teal shirt.

_____________________________________________________________

It was sunny, Victor could remember that. The sun was shining over the lake, making it sparkle in hues of blue and golden. It was a beautiful day. She would have loved it.

The house and the garden were filled with people, most of them Victor didn’t even know, but still came to him to talk about his wife. They told him about how vibrant she was, and talented, and a good friend. She always had a smile for everyone, she was always so strong and positive, she was a force of nature, taken away too soon. Victor never uttered a single word, just allowing people to share with him their experiences with his wife. He knew all that, better than anyone. He wasn’t surprised his aunt’s house was filled with strangers. If anything, he was expecting more of them.

He watched her for the last time, in her casket, before closing the lid. Everybody kept telling him how peaceful she looked, like she was sleeping. Although Victor agreed she did look serene, she didn’t look like she was sleeping at all. She usually slept with her face buried in his chest, her cheek comically pressed against his skin, her legs wrapped around his, like he was all she needed, like he was her safe haven.

He discreetly put the wedding ring on her finger. There was no other place where that ring should be, and no one else it could belong to. The beauty of that ring would end with the beauty of its owner, hidden below the surface, only a few people knowing it existed.

Josh and Goldman made a speech. Someone asked him if he wanted to say a few words, he refused. What he had to say about the love of his life exceeded rhetoric, and it all came down to four little words: She was his everything. And that, everybody knew.

He was led inside to sit on a chair, while people served him food he didn't eat and offered advice he didn’t need. When Josh came with a glass of whiskey, he took it gladly.

“I know we haven’t spoken since… You know.” Joshua mumbled. “But I don’t know what to say.”

Victor smiled weakly, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because they shared the suffering, and even though he couldn’t ease his own, he could do something for Andrea’s brother.

“I want you to know that, despite-” Joshua’s voice ended in a sob, and he paused to gather himself. “You’re still family. You’re still my brother. That won’t change.”

“Same goes for you.” Victor offered.

“Are you… Going to be on your own? Terry says you’ll be leaving today.”

“I’ve always been on my own.” Victor painfully stated. “Before her. I just need to remember how that’s done. Focus on work maybe.”

“Man, I’m so happy to hear that.” Joshua sighed with relief. “I thought you were going to go on a drunken stupor, or do something stupid. Andrea would’ve wanted you to move on.”

“I have that bottle of Remi your father gave me.” Victor offered. “I still need to finish that one.”

______________________________________________________________

Victor entered the apartment again, this time to find it empty. Like before. It was like his life had come painfully full circle, erasing everything good that he had in between, leaving only the memories.

He took his coat off and grabbed the bottle of brandy he got for his wedding. Pouring himself a glass, he took a pen and paper and started writing some notes for his assistant for next week. He wouldn’t be able to be present at LFG, but he couldn’t abandon it either. Goldman would have to step up sooner than he expected. Victor was sure he would be the right man for the job. After all, and he couldn’t help but smirk, Goldman had learned from the best.

He went to his coat, retrieving from it something he had asked Mia for a while ago: a flash drive. It contained something she had prepared for the reception and he never got the chance to see: a presentation with pictures of him and Andrea, as kids and as adults, and lately, as a couple.

The familiar chords of a guitar sounded in his study, then a drum, then the words Andrea would sing when she thought she was alone in the kitchen.

Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, It’s only right

To think about the girl you love and hold her tight

So happy together

The picture of him one Christmas, with a toothless grin. A girl with golden curls and a boy with brown hair, wearing ugly reindeer sweaters. Victor as a teen, graduating from high school. Andrea, dressed in black, in a piano recital. Victor cutting the tape at the inauguration of LFG. Andrea wearing her black academic suit, smiling widely with some friends.

Me and you and you and me

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together

Pictures of them together. Their selfie with Dubai’s sandy beaches in the background. A picture of them talking, oblivious to the fact they were being photographed, at Goldman's wedding. Another selfie, rock climbing. Victor couldn’t help but smile widely at that one. He was so proud of her.

For the first time in days, Victor felt something good. He was grateful for having her. She was the best thing that ever happened in his life, the happiest, the most powerful.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you

For all my life

When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue

For all my life

With a serene smile, Victor opened the drawer of his desk, retrieving something from it. He chugged the rest of the brandy in his glass, letting out a content sigh. Getting up from his chair, he left the study with a decided spring on his step.

The moon was big and bright, lighting the space in the living room. From his huge window, he could see the skyline shining underneath the starry sky, embellished with the city lights. It was a beautiful night.

From the study, he could still hear the music, the one she hummed happily, making his heart skip a beat.

So happy together (oooooooooh)

Victor smiled. Finally, he was feeling some relief.

So happy together (oooooooooh)

He pressed the barrel of his revolver on his temple.

So happy together (ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba)

There was no sound. Only Victor falling to the ground, a pool of blood surrounding him.

_______________________________________________________________

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Mia screamed.

“What? What’s the matter?” Gavin rushed to her, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was staring ahead in pure dread to the bride and groom in front of her. They looked at her, horrified at the blood-curdling scream.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Andrea asked. “Are you alright?”

That’s when Mia noticed everyone was staring at her.

“Erm…” She had to think fast. Think, Mia, think. “Nothing… It’s just…” She hesitated.

“Just say it.” Victor was starting to lose his patience. “What is the problem?”

“Ah, you can’t go to the reception tent just yet!” Thank God, she had come up with an excuse. “I mean, we haven’t taken pictures inside yet!”

“Inside?” Andrea gave her a puzzled look. “We will take pictures after we eat. I’m starving and my feet are starting to hurt.” She motioned to leave, but Mia held her arm.

“No! You can’t go!” She screamed, making the couple’s eyes widen in surprise. “Please, please, this is important.” She paused, trying to think of a better excuse. “The real reason is… I want to have a word with you and give you my wedding present!” Before they could retort, she added. “Please.”

“I think we can give her five minutes.” Victor looked at Andrea, his eyes full of sweetness.

��Alright. As long as I don’t have to take pictures.” Andrea agreed.

“Wait for me inside, ok? And don’t leave!” Mia’s urgency only made the couple chuckle, blissfully unaware of the danger. “I’m going to get my present, I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Mia didn’t walk, she ran. And she only stopped when she found Gavin again, on his way to the reception tent to have a drink with all the guests.

“Do you trust me?” She held her husband's arms in all seriousness.

“Ok, Mi, you’re starting to freak me out, what’s wrong?” Gavin looked her in the eyes.

“I had a vision.”

“Mia, that’s impossible. You don’t have an Evol anymore.” Gavin’s eyes became worried.

“Gavin, I know what I saw! I had a vision, a vision so clear that I could feel what they were feeling, like I was inside their minds! I saw into Victor’s memories!” She grew impatient. “Her ex is hidden in the trees outside the tent with a gun, he’s going to kill her! You have to stop him without them noticing. It’s going to ruin their day.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure of this?” Gavin insisted.

“Yes!” She pecked her husband’s lips. “Please be careful. Don’t go by yourself.”

Back in the house, Mia presented the couple with her gift: matching aprons, spelling Mr. Pudding and Mrs. Pudding. Victor blinked at her.

“That is what all the fuss was about?” He looked at her, frowning. Andrea took his hand.

“It’s very nice, Mia. Thank you.” Andrea gave her a warm smile, turning to Victor after. “We should go, people are expecting us.”

“No!” Mia held both their hands. She wondered how Gavin was doing. “I want you to know that I’m very happy to see you together.” Tears pooled in her eyes as she remembered her vision, an inconsolable Victor holding Andrea’s dead body. “I wish you the best… And I hope to have some pudding made while wearing those aprons!”

“Wow… Mia!” Andrea took her hand, consoling her. “Thank you! I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it!”

“I do!” Mia exclaimed, taking the chance to keep talking while keeping them in the house. “Victor is my longtime friend, and I feel like we are friends too! I think we should have a double date!”

Mia’s phone vibrated in her purse. It was a text from Gavin.

We got him. He’s being taken right now.

“As long as you don’t do the cooking.” Victor jested, but Mia didn’t react. She was still staring at the phone.

She had done it. It was over. She had changed the future. It could be done.

“I think we can arrange something.” Andrea chimed in. “And I’ll help Mia cook if she wants to, right Mia?” She shook Mia’s shoulder. “Mia? Are you with us?”

“Yes.” Mia snapped out of her trance, turning to them. “Let’s get you in that tent, don't let me keep you waiting.”

As they left the house, they heard the police sirens from the cars leaving the estate. Andrea looked at Victor, a worried look on her face.

“What happened? Why are the police leaving?” Victor wrapped a protective arm around his wife.

“Nothing serious. There was an unauthorized reporter on the premises. Gavin took care of it.” Mia shrugged, trying to look relaxed.

The happy couple moved to the reception tent, where Joshua waited for them.

“Ok team, get ready!” She warned the photographers. “I want the perfect sho-, ahem, I mean, picture!”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” She heard Joshua. “I give you the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Lee!”

Victor and Andrea kissed for the picture. And nothing happened. It was just them, the people that loved them, laughter and happy tears. Just as it should be.

Mia felt a loving hand on her shoulder. It was her husband. He looked like he had fought a bear, his face bruised, cuts and scratches everywhere.

“Oh my, are you okay?” She fussed over him.

“You were right.” Gavin sounded confused, as he was still trying to piece together what had just happened. “He had a suicide letter with him, explaining what he wanted to do and why. You saved her.”

“No, you are the hero in this story. Thank you for believing in me.” She wrapped her arms around him. “And trust me, you did more than save Andrea’s life. You saved Victor’s too.”

“I bet.” Gavin let out a bitter chuckle. “I would be destroyed if I were you.”

“My words exactly.” She pulled her husband for a kiss.

If you can, share some love with me or spread it around! HAPPY HALLOWEEN, beautiful people!

#halloween #mlqc fanfic #suicide #miscarriage #murder #human despair #angsty victor #love and producer #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date

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zacharyleigh316 · 5 years ago

Text

If the place ain’t clean, there ain’t no Dean

What do I do to keep myself bus during quarantine?? Write fanfiction apparently! So here you go, a nice, fresh supernatural destiel ficlet for you. And it kinda relates to everything happening in the world rn (you’ll see why) but don’t fret, I didn’t write it to make a statement. I just really enjoy neat freak Dean, and there isn’t enough out there about him, so naturally that means it’s up to me to write it, right? Right?? But seriously though, even Dean says to wash your damn hands. If you won’t do it for me, or yourself, or anyone else, at least do it for him!

Ao3 link here

“If the place ain’t clean, there ain’t no Dean” | Not Rated | 2,309 word count

In which Dean is a neat freak and totally in denial about it, but Sam and his hot roommate know the truth. Or where Dean cleans Sam’s dorm while he’s away, and it’s totally worth it in the end.

Dean took one step into his brother’s dorm, and immediately regret every conscience decision to so. He hadn’t even been in there for more than a second, before his instincts kicked in, every part of his brain telling him to plot his escape and flee.

“Jesus Christ, Sammy!” He exclaimed, absolutely appalled.

Dean took another glance around, and grimaced, his large Sasquatch of a brother running out from the bathroom in a frenzy.

“What is it Dean? Everything alright?” He had to suppress a snort at his baby brother’s concerned expression, despite the answer being no, things were very not alright.

“What the hell is this Sam? Are you trying to make me die of a heart attack?”

Sam raised a brow, “You mean my room Dean? And you know can’t die of a heart attack at your age.”

“Hey, you don’t know that for sure,” Dean said, wagging a finger in his direction, “and this ain’t a room, Sammy, it’s a friggin pigsty. Have I taught you nothing?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not even that bad.”

“Not that-Sam! Are you friggin blind?” Dean shook his head in disbelief, eyeing the clothes and shoes strewn everywhere, the leftover pizza boxes on the coffee table, and the dirty dishes piled into the sink to the kitchenette all with a high level of disgust.

“I’m gonna need to bathe in freaking hand sanitizer afterwards.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Hey, you shut your face. I’m not dramatic, Sam. This is friggin serious. I mean, you wouldn’t take a girl home to this would you?” He took a reluctant step toward his baby brother, and tripped over something he didn’t even want to identify.

“Oh c’mon! This place is freaking disgusting man. Shit everywhere on the floor, left over food. Not to mention, it smells like a friggin boy’s locker room. Tell it to me straight, Sammy. Would you bring a girlfriend back here? Cuz I sure as hell, ain’t.”

“I honestly think girls are the least of my worries, Dean.” His older brother snorted, muttering something close to, I agree, before he grimaced again.

Sam rolled his eyes, and glared at Dean, “Seriously, studying for school and going to classes is more important than sleeping around...like some people.”

Dean glared back at Sam, and motioned around the room. “I get that Sammy, but freaking proper hygiene is important too.”

“Well, Castiel doesn’t seem to mind it.” Sam said, matter of factly, bringing Dean up short.

“Cas-Casteel-what? Who the hell is that, and why should I care?”

Sam sighed, “My roommate, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “You’ve got a friggin roommate, and he’s okay with it? Oh god.”

“Again you’re being dramatic.”

“There’s two of ‘em.”

“Dean...” Sam said, exasperated, and sporting one of his famous bitch faces.

“Alright, alright. But mark my words, Sammy, one day you’ll be in classes, and I’m gonna come in here and clean this entire room. It’ll be spotless. You won’t know what hit you.”

“Whatever.”

“Now finish getting ready so we can go out for lunch. I don’t want to be in here any longer than I have to be, bitch.” Dean shooed him off, taking one final look around the room, and suppressed the oncoming shudder.

“Yeah, sure. Jerk.” Sam went back in the bathroom while Dean secretly planned his operation: Clean the Moose Den.

Dean slowly opened the door to door to his brother’s dorm, and checked to see if the coast was clear. If he was correct in his assumption, and he very rarely was ever wrong, he should have timed his arrival perfectly to when Sam would be in class.

The dorm was quiet, and definitely still an awful mess. This time Dean didn’t hold back the shiver that went down his spine, already feeling the germs crawling all over him.

“Alright, Sammy. This’ll each you not to be so disgusting next time.” He muttered to himself, walking into his brother’s bedroom to retrieve his hamper.

“What’s the point of having this if you aren’t going to use this, man?”

Dean started with picking up the clothes, making sure they were his brother’s before stuffing them into the hamper. He hung Sam’s overly sized jackets back in his closet, and put his shoes on the mat by the door.

“Seriously, you’d think he was raised in a freaking barn.” He shook his head, and grabbed a garbage bag.

“You need a mask and friggin gloves to even make your way around.” Dean threw away all the left over food, including the pizza boxes and take out containers.

It was dirty work, that just had to be done. And if no one else was going to do it, Dean was the obvious choice.

He started in the kitchenette next, doing the dishes and wiping down every counter space. When that was done, he, albeit reluctantly, got down on his hand and knees, and scrubbed the floors.

“Hello.”

“Jesus Christ-“ Dean jumped, banging his head on the underside of the counter.

“Son of bitch!” He cursed, and rubbed the back of his head as he stood. “What the hell man?!”

Dean turned around, to tell off the guy who scared the shit out of him, who was almost the cause of what would’ve been his second heart attack that week, but stopped dead in his tracks, any response dying on his tongue.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Uh...” Holy shit. Sam didn’t say anything about his roommate being hot. And damn, that voice. Now here Dean was, eloquent as ever, acting like a complete idiot.

“I wasn’t aware Sam hired a maid.” Wait what?

Dean furrowed his brows, “I’m not a freaking maid! Do I look like a maid to you, dude?”

“I only assumed, because you are here cleaning.”

“Yeah well I’m not. I’m Sam’s older, and much more attractive, brother.”

“Oh yes, Dean. Sam informed me that you were a neat freak.”

“I’m not a...” Dean dragged a hand down his face, “look, I’m sorry man, but your place was disgusting. So really, I’m doing you a favor.”

Castiel just smiled, which unnerved Dean for some odd reason. What was this guy’s deal?

“It’s okay to be germaphobe Dean. There’s nothing wrong with having certain phobias.”

“Yeah, I know there’s no problem with it. Just like I’ve got no problem.”

“Sam also said you’d be in denial.” What the hell? Was this dude for real?

“Listen here, Castiel, you can tell my baby brother to friggin shove it. And for the record, I ain’t in denial. Nothing wrong with wanting a clean space.”

“But this isn’t your place Dean. There’s no need to clean it.”

“Well, if the place ain’t clean, it ain’t got Dean. And that’s a tragedy, Cas, because I’m a joy to be around.” Castiel laughed, and gave Dean a gummy smile, one that had Dean smiling back.

“Hey guys.” Sam chirped from the doorway, before taking a look around the room. He made a face, and joined them in the kitchen.

“Really, Dean?”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. I told you I was going to do it when you were in class. Of course I didn’t account for your roommate being here.”

“And for that I need to apologize.” Sam said, wearing one of those faces that made him look constipated.

“Damn straight.”

“Not to you, to Cas. For having to deal with you.” Dean glared at the moose that was brother.

“Hey!”

“It’s fine Sam. I was enjoying his company actually. And you’ve got to admit, the place looks good.” Cas smiled at Dean, and again, the man found himself returning the gesture.

“See Sam? At least someone appreciates my efforts.”

“Whatever.” Dean chuckled, and Sam made a bitch face, before muttering something about going to his room to study.

“Don’t you go messing it all again, you hear me Sammy?”

“Whatever, Dean. Even if I do, I know you’ll just come in and clean it again. Since it seems to give you some kind of pleasure.”

“Bitch!”

“Jerk.” Dean chuckled as Sam shut his bedroom door, leaving him and Cas alone in the kitchen.

“Well, I suppose you probably don’t want me to stay, so I’ll uh, just get out of your hair.”

“I can help you, Dean. Finish cleaning, that is. I’d hate to see a man with your condition leave the job unfinished.”

“Sure if that’s what you want, Cas.”

Castiel nodded. “I’d like it very much.”

“Right, well, first things first. It’s not a freaking condition alright? It’s just a high intolerance for things that aren’t clean.”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean pointed at Cas with a rag. “Don’t think I can’t sense you judging me, Cas. If you’re gonna help, you’re gonna have to knock it off with all that phobia bull crap, got it?”

Cas smirked. “Of course Dean.”

“Good. Now get to work.”

Sam didn’t emerge from his room until several hours later, on the hunt for some food and deciding that he’d watch some television on the way back. He was slightly confused that there were still clothes on the floor, assuming that Dean had been very thorough in his cleaning, but shrugged it off because he didn’t actually mind it. He wasn’t a beat freak like his older brother was, no matter how adamantly he denied it.

Sam shoveled the leftovers he got from the fridge into his mouth, a little smug that said brother wasn’t here to complain about his more than questionable eating habits as well. It wasn’t until Cas came out of his room a bit later, that he turned his attention away from the tv.

“Oh hey Cas.” Sam’s brows furrowed when he seemed to startle Cas, who was attempting to sneak out of his room.

“Hello...Sam.” Castiel cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard, and looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is perfectly fine. No need to worry Sam. I was just, uh, heading to the bathroom.”

“Um, okay. Did Dean get back safely then?”

“Huh?” Cas was acting startled again, and out of it, making Sam even more confused at what was going on with his roommate.

“Dean. You know, my bother?”

“Of course...”

“Are you sure you’re okay, man? You seem jittery.” Sam asked, concerned about his friend’s wellbeing.

“Yes, I assure you, Sam, there is no need to worry.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” The two eyed each other curiously for a moment, before Sam relented, unable to find anything of import, and nodded as he turned back to the television screen.

Cas let out a breath of relief, to which Sam chalked it up to being relieved he made it past his scrutiny. His roommate was always a weird guy, so he didn’t really think much else of it.

So Castiel went to the bathroom, only to be stopped by Sam again on the way back to his room.

“You can join me if you want.”

“Thank you Sam, I appreciate that, but I think I should really get back-“

“Jesus, Cas, did you get lost on the way to the toilet or something?”

Sam’s eyes went wide, and he looked over at his brother, who was standing in the doorway to Castiel’s room. “Dean?”

“Shit,” Dean’s eyes went wide in return, “uh, heya Sammy, how’s it going? Nice seeing you here.”

“Dean, I live here. You however, do not.”

“I did tell him that earlier today.” Castiel added.

“Yeah about that...” Sam put a hand up, silencing his older brother.

“Nope. I do not want to hear it. Just please...keep it to yourself.”

Dean chuckled. “Whatever you say Sammy.”

“I’m gonna go back to my room, I think. I’ll see you guys later.” Sam went to get up, looking for the quickest way out, before his brother intercepted him.

“Not so fast, Sam. Put the freaking dirty container in the sink so it can be washed.”

“Sure, mom.” He did as he was told however, making a big show of it for Dean.

Cas was still standing there awkwardly, looking even more constipated and seriously deep in thought than Sam usually does when he makes those faces.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

“Good,” Sam snorted, “and goodnight. I still can’t believe you not only broke into my dorm so you could freaking clean the place, but also slept with my roommate.” He shook his head, before locking himself up in his room.

“He‘ll get over it.”

“I’m sure he will.” Castiel hummed, joining back into the conversation.

“In the meantime, do you think there’s anything left in your room to clean?”

“I’m sure we can find something. Besides, even if we can’t, I’m sure we can dirty something enough for us to clean afterwards.” Dean drew the other man close, and kissed his lips, pulling away with a grin.

“I like the way you think.”

Castiel grinned back. “Wasn’t it you who said if the place wasn’t clean, there couldn’t be a Dean? And I’d very much like a Dean, so...”

“That I did,” Dean chuckled, kissing Cas again.

“And so you shall receive. Plus you were an awesome helper this afternoon.”

They both head back into Cas’ room, and shut the door behind them—more so for Sammy’s sake than theirs of course.

“I had an exceptional teacher.”

“Eh I do what I can.” Castiel leaned in for another kiss, before Dean stopped them.

“Wait, we should probably pick up our clothes outside on the floor first. It’s gonna bother me if it isn’t taken care of. And you wouldn’t want to trip, right? You could forget later that they’re even there...and it’s only logical.”

Cas smirked. “Of course, Dean.”

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