#Anyways the likelihood that I will once again disappear? High.

[tiixij]

Anyways hi I've had a cough for over a month now and for the past couple of days have periodically become dizzy and I have final exams next week and had to cancel a dentist appointment so. Hopefully that clears up

[wreckmetoji]

Stargazing and Cigarettes

A fic in which Nicholas D. Wolfwood is bad at feelings

↳ Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader

content.  gender-neutral pronouns, fluff, wolfwood got a little angy, it’s ok give him a smooch anyways

3.4k words

Some may say Gunsmoke is the epitome of misfortune. If you're misfortunate enough to be born on this hellscape of a planet, you'll die an untimely death at the hands of someone or something completely out of your control. The violent crime rates were high, and the likelihood of terminal starvation and dehydration were even higher. But, although some may say that, others– not many, however– would disagree. My favorite thing... is when the sun disappears behind the dunes. When everything is cast in pink and orange and everything is so soft and the air is cooling down. It reminds me that, even through the worst of days, things will be okay in the end, as long as I keep pushing forward. It's evenings like that you learned to appreciate the most, only with the help of your blond travelling companion. Vash had put life into a new perspective for you, had an arm around your shoulders when you were sulking about being hungry, or hot, or absolutely exhausted. He was a good person, an even better friend. You came to be quite fond of everyone, really. Vash, Meryl, Roberto, and admittedly an extra soft spot for the newest addition, Wolfwood. He was brash, cocky, and more often than not, he was a grump. He never seemed to direct his ire at you though, you had noted this at some point while the five of you sat in some hole in the wall diner enjoying a very inexpensive meal. You can't even remember what the argument was about, if you were being completely honest. Meryl would have her one-sided bicker with Wolfwood, then Vash would interject and inadvertently make himself the target. At some point you had sighed, the sheer amount of personalities in one group clashing was giving you a migraine, and looked up at Wolfwood with pleading eyes. Really, you hadn't even said anything, the look you gave him seemed to be more than enough for his eyes to widen, then narrow, turning his head to look out the half-boarded up window he was sitting next to. Not so much as a peep came out of his mouth for the remainder of the meal, and you appreciated it despite how out of character it was for Wolfwood to be completely silent. You smiled, eyes watching the stars above as you recollected the memory. The car battery had once again been neglected, decidedly leaving your little group stranded for the night. Vash had assured everyone this was as good a spot as any, since not a lot of bandits OR worms came this way, but the at least I think so tacked onto the end left everyone unsettled and eager to start the trek to the nearest town first thing in the morning. It really is beautiful, you found yourself thinking, watching the pink and orange sky slowly fade darker and darker, making way for the stars and constellations to shine so clearly, so beautifully. You sighed, sitting up in your sleeping bag and looking around the sad little impromptu camp to find everyone asleep, or trying to sleep. You and Meryl had been given the rights to sleeping in the car, however you found yourself politely declining. I stay up late, and I like watching the stars was the excuse you used. So, instead, Meryl and Roberto took the car to sleep in, leaving Vash, Wolfwood, and you under the chilly desert sky. The small fire someone, most likely Vash, had graciously started prior to heading off to bed definitely aided in your evening chills, but you knew deeper into the night would be difficult to sleep through. Letting out a small grunt, you stood from your spot, shuffling out from your little sleeping bag. Vash was a few feet away from you, face peaceful as he ever so quietly snored. A hard exhale from your nose, followed by a quick glance around camp, you noticed a missing member. A part of you would like to say you were surprised, but the other part of you thought it was very typical and on-par that Wolfwood wouldn't display such a vulnerable act of sleeping peacefully around a group of people in the middle of nowhere. He wouldn't be difficult to find, you thought with a slight smile, if the distant smell of cigarette smoke was anything to go off of. And difficult to find he was not, considering you had only taken a few strides to get around the mobile storage container on the back of the vehicle, seeing him sitting with his back against the cold metal. A cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, sunglasses fallen down the slope of his nose. Evidently, he had anticipated you before you had even spotted him, with how his dark eyes were trained on you through the corner of his vision before you even had the chance to look down at him. All you did was wave, rocking back on your heels when he said nothing. "Want some company?" You took the deep exhale from his nose as a sure whatever, sauntering over to stand beside him, pressing your back to the container, and sliding down to mimic his posture. It was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Copious amounts of prolonged silence wasn't something you got a lot of in your travels, so there seemed to be a mutual understanding to simply enjoy the moment and each others' presence. "What're you still doing up, anyways," Wolfwood finally muttered, breaking the silence. How long had it been? Five, ten, twenty minutes? Long enough for the last reaches of the sun to dip below the horizon, now only leaving you to bask in stars and moonlight. "Dunno," You shrugged, arms wrapping around yourself as you bunched your knees up, "I like watching the sun go down when I can. It reminds me that even on the worst days, everything is just temporary. With every sunset is an ending, and every sunrise is a new beginning." A small smile crept up onto your lips at the scoff he gave you. He didn't have to say it, but you knew what he was thinking. You've been hangin' out with that needle noggin too much. There was another extended period of silence. "What about you?" You returned, head tilting back against the metal behind you as you looked up at him. "No rest for the wicked, as they say," He sighed, taking the cigarette butt from his mouth and flicking it somewhere in the distance. You didn't understand what he meant by that completely, so you decided to glance away and not say anything at all. Something you and Wolfwood seemed to have a mutual understanding of was knowing when to accept you can't know everything and just move on. The quiet crinkle of plastic pulled your attention back to him, his hand fishing another crumpled cigarette from his pocket. This time you were the one to scoff. You opened your mouth to speak, but his elongated groan of disapproval beat you to the punch. "Don't wanna hear it. If I didn't know what these were doing to me I wouldn't be smokin' 'em," His words were muffled by the object between his lips, one hand cupping in front of his face to block the non-existent wind, the other flicking the lighter to life. Fair enough. He took a deep inhale, exhale following quickly suit. The plume of smoke that surrounded him and tapered off into the night sky was hypnotic, the twists and turns performing an intricate dance with a mind of its own that you've learned to describe as simply very Wolfwood. An enigma, a man of little words and a heavy burden. What that burden was, you don't think you would ever learn, but sometimes you liked to imagine the thought of getting close enough to learn. Everyone needs a shoulder to lean on, even wasteland-jaded priests. "So," Your words trailed off, eyes looking up at the stars above for anything, anything to keep you here in his presence, "Do you know anything about constellations?" "Nah, can't say I do. Do you?" "No." You shrugged, earning a teasing, low chuckle from him. It was a marvelous sound, something you could only package up and wrap it with a nice little bow to keep close to your heart. "Why'd you ask if I knew then?" He pushed his glasses further up his nose, lazily tilting his head to the side to look at you. And what a wonderful thing, being seen by Wolfwood when all you've gotten until now are fleeting glances and indirect side-eyes. At one point you started to think maybe it was deliberate, the way whenever your eyes met he would look away soon after, that perhaps you made him uncomfortable. The weight of his gaze made your cheeks heat, even if your body was cold, and hug your legs closer to your body. "I... dunno, I thought maybe you would so you could teach me a little." There was another short stretch of silence, butterflies anxiously fluttering in the pit of your stomach. "Y'know you can leave if you're cold, the fire's probably still going." If it was anyone else, you would take that as an indirect request for you to depart. Perhaps you'd even take the liberty with Wolfwood, but in this moment, you were selfish. He brought some sort of foreign comfort a fire and a moderately warm sleeping bag couldn't provide. "It's okay," You sighed wistfully, "Even with the fire and the sleeping bag, eventually it'll get too cold out. Just trying to acclimate myself sooner than later." You chuckled in good nature, but he didn't seem to find it as funny. "Heard sharing body heat helps." You nearly choked on your spit. Nearly. "'m sure needle noggin wouldn't mind helping you out. You two seem close." Ah, you got ahead of yourself. "He wouldn't mind because that's just the kind of person he is," You stated, matter-of-factly, barely catching the purse of his lips, "But... we aren't close like that. We're both dreamers, and without an anchor we'd just float away." All you got was a hum. "Plus... I think, even if there was some kind of... feeling there, I don't think he'd feel the same way. He's got enough of his own stuff going on, I don't think throwing a person into the mix would be a good idea for either party." Honestly, you hasn't realized how close you and Vash were gave off indication that there might be some kind of relationship potential. You were more than certain Meryl would have said something about it if that were the case, but perhaps you were wrong. "Didn't mean to make an assumption," Wolfwood muttered, hands plucking another cigarette out of his jacket pocket. You sighed, digging your heels into the ground as his lighter sparked up once again. "It's okay," You reassured, in the motion of standing up, "I'm gonna try heading to bed though." He grunted, his eyes sliding shut for just a moment. You used this to your advantage, snatching his cigarette from between his lips with a smirk as you stood. Maybe he didn't want you to say anything about it, but you weren't going to sit and idly watch as he chain-smoked himself into an early grave. This seemed to shock him more than anything, his hand swiping up to catch your wrist as he stood to his feet. You had managed to use some momentum to toss the now thoroughly crumpled cigarette, catching it in your other hand. As if you'd give up to him that easily, who did he take you for? All you heard was a growl, then a hollow metallic thud, and everything had happened so fast you didn't process that the noise was from your back hitting the mobile storage trailer. Your eyes were wide, mind reeling to process the precarious position the two of you were in. His hands each held a wrist, body boxing you in and enclosing you in a space that was just entirely Wolfwood. You were gazing up at him, only to be met with an equally bewildered expression. The both of you fell silent, only hearing the thump of your increasing heart rate pounding in your ears. He was close, too close, close enough that you could smell the smoke on his breath and the earthy scent emanating from his well-worn clothes. What felt like hours was probably more realistically a matter of seconds, but eventually you had gotten your wits about you to open your palm and display his much desired stolen item. Only then did he pull away, hands releasing your wrists to take a couple steps back. He cleared his throat, once again reaching in his pocket as if you hadn't just attempted to give back what started this scuffle in the first place. Swallowing, you took a step towards him, arm outstretched with the now snubbed cigarette in your palm. He said nothing, quickly taking it, placing it between his lips, and lighting it in silence. You were unsure if the moonlight was playing tricks on you, but you thought you could see pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "U-Um–" You stuttered, hands coming together to pick at your nail beds nervously, "I'm–" "It's fine," He interrupted, and you couldn't help but admire him even now, even as he avoided tour gaze, even as he clenched his jaw in what you could only assume was annoyance, admire the steady slope of his nose and his sun-kissed skin and growing stubble. And, subsequently, noticing the smear of ash that ran from his jaw to the corner of his lips, most likely a result of you so bravely snatching what was quite literally a burning object from his mouth. If anyone were to ask you what you were doing, you wouldn't be able to tell them. If they asked you what you were thinking, you wouldn't answer, you couldn't answer, it was completely instinctual. Maybe it was because you were still so high off of the headrush he gave you, off of his scent and his gaze and his energy, you were much more bold. Either way, you didn't think, thumb coming up to swipe the expanse of grime tarnishing his otherwise flawlessly rugged appearance. Unlike before, everything moved in slow motion. The way he reached up to once again grab your wrist, the way his other hand snatched the cigarette between his lips and flicked it away, as he had done to the other. The way that same hand came up to cup your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw, all while he was stepping closer and leaning into your personal space. "Wolfw–" "Shut up," He breathed before his lips slotted against yours. There was no malice behind his words, but a surprising inkling of desperation. How soft he was surprised you. His touch, holding your neck in one hand and your waist in the other, how soft his lips were against yours, as if he was scared to press any further into you, scared he would hurt you or scared you would push him away. You didn't, though. You don't think you ever would. By the time you had come to your senses, he was already pulling away, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted, as if he was already looking to conjure up some kind of excuse as to why he had just done what he did. You didn't want an excuse though, you didn't want another reason to pull away, and the way your hands came up to grasp the front of his shirt and your eyes gazed into him must have gotten that point across. He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and kissed you again, pulling your body closer to his, lips just a little less forgiving. This time you could feel the pent up desperation, the stress, the uncertainty, and then you could feel it all melt away. His rigid and tense muscles relaxed under your touch as your hands slid up his chest, onto his shoulders, eventually cradling both sides of his neck with your hands. Your thumbs stroked his jaw, the scratch of his stubble adding to the symphony of noises you held close to your heart that were just so Wolfwood. By the time you pulled back again, you could feel the heat on your cheeks, feel the droop of your half lidded eyes, feel your heart hammering in your chest as you panted desperately for air. You stood like this for a good while, eyes lazily blinking up at him in complete disbelief, before you chuckled, "It's... really cold out." Wolfwood continued to stare at you, eyes glancing back down at your lips, and even if he began to lean in again, he didn't have the courage to see it through for a third time. "Then let's get you to bed." He lead the way, completely detaching from you with his hands shoved in his pockets. Part of you wondered if this would ever be spoken about again, was it all just a moment of passion and weakness? Did you both just desperately need something, and now you were unable to shoulder the weight of your decisions? Your mind came to a grinding halt the second he stood above your sleeping bag, gesturing to it vaguely. The fire was nothing but weak embers by this point and would do absolutely no good shielding you from the bitter cold that awaited you further into the night. "Is... Earlier, you said–" You began to whisper, pausing when you noticed Vash shift in his own sleeping bag. You swallowed, eyes downcast as you pointed to Wolfwood, then yourself, then the sleeping bag. You glanced up in time to catch him biting the inside of his cheek, before ultimately nodding and following you in and under the covers. There definitely wasn't enough comfortable space to fit two people, and it took a couple minutes of awkward shifting and repositioning to finally settle on laying on your sides, your back to his front. You had to hand it to him, it was warmer than if you were just by yourself. Forcing your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, trying to will yourself to calm down enough to actually get in some shuteye. That all went out the window the second his hand came up to rest on your hip, then slowly slide down so his arm was holding you back against him. "Wolfwood..." You whispered, barely a word at all in fear that you would wake up your nearly sleeping companion. ".... Nicholas." "Wh... what?" "Call me Nicholas." It was as if your heart grew wings and flown up into your throat, and you didn't know why, because this was something as simple as being on a first name basis, but it was the moment of vulnerability that he displayed that pushed you close to tears. Somehow finding the space, you rolled over, now face to face with the man of your affections. He didn't seem fazed in the slightest, but his furrowed brow gave him away, as did the quick flicker of his eyes, bouncing from one feature to the next, before settling on your eyes. "Nick," You couldn't stifle your grin if you tried, not with how the deep crimson crept up his neck and the tips of his ears, "Will you stay with me tonight?" He scoffed, as if it were a ridiculous question in the first place, eyes sliding shut. "Yeah. I'll stay." "Nick?" "Mmh." "Can we maybe talk a bit more about... this tomorrow?" He didn't answer you, not verbally at least, but if the way his arm tightened around your waist spoke for him, you could only assume that was a yeah, sure. You smiled, craning your neck up to place a chaste peck against his lips. You caught the stutter in his breathing, and the shift in his expression, before you closed your own eyes to welcome the warm embrace of sleep. Maybe you wouldn't know what the morning ahead of you would bring, but you knew that being right here, right now, with Wolfwood holding you so close, like he needed you... you could accept whatever challenges came your way.

[josecariohca]

personal ramble bc its too long to fit in the tags el oh el ignore pls <3

i can physically feel myself starting to hit a wall the longer i go without a break but like. idk im trying very hard to balance being excited about moving and going to a city i love and adore with my whole heart while also knowing i have so much to do to the point where i havent spoken to any of my friends in. literal months.

im packing and working on college apps and checking in on my grandparents and taking care of my aunts dog who needs physical therapy and making sure the house is kept up and making sure my paperwork is all updated and trying to figure out what to do with my stuff and trying to get last minute doctors appts done, and while i understand that all this stuff is necessary and wont take very long at the end of the day, i also miss my friends so much.

i miss being able to wake up and not have a laundry list of things i need to do. i miss sitting down and writing for fun, and while i have some stuff i want to post its not the same as actively engaging in things. with your friends. i miss downtime. i miss not feeling like i have a countdown clock over my head. i miss talking to people and not feeling like im wasting the very limited amount of time i have.

and like YES i know im so fucking lucky that i can even consider going to grad school in another country and im so lucky to have someplace to move to besides where i am. i knooooow that and i dont take it for granted, but im also so unbelievably tired. im dead on my feet and have been for months. im worried about my grandmother who isnt taking her medication, my grandfather who i can tell is using his denial and fear over the situation to resort to frustration and anger. im worried about my mother being left to live with my aunt while i go. im worried about how hard she works and how poorly she treats herself.

both my parents have told me it will likely be both my grandmothers' last christmas. i havent seen my dads mom in 3 years, and i likely wont even be able to say goodbye to her bc i know my moms mom will need me to stay with her. im staring down the next year with a high likelihood im losing both of them and that fucking terrifies me. im scared that if i get into a school and leave, i will literally never see them again. my grandfather included.

idk im trying not to let myself feel guilty over things ive missed and messages i havent been able to reply to bc i literally dont have the mental capacity to handle that on top of everything im already balancing and all the grief im experiencing while watching my grandmother degrade in real time. i know people miss me and i know people are upset that ive essentially disappeared, but i just dont have the time in the day to do it all and i hate it i hate feeling like ive let people down i hate feeling like i have people waiting on me, my own family included. i hate knowing i cant respond to everyone and i have no other excuses to give besides im just so busy and i cant.

i can only hope that once i leave this place, all the stress of moving will lessen and i can catch my breath a little before getting a job and getting thrown back into the countdown clock again. idk. idk!!!!! it would be nice if i could actually say any of this to my family, but i cant. i know i cant, and they wouldnt get it anyway, which is fine, they have their own issues and stresses and i dont really like disclosing personal stuff to them anyway bc it always bites me in the ass later. but i wish.

idk. i miss my friends. im trying not to feel guilty, but its not working out too well. im moving next week, so i may go quiet for a bit while i try and figure out how i can afford a storage locker so my aunt doesnt throw out everything i own.

hopefully i can catch a break and find some time to do things i actually enjoy, but we'll see.

miss you guys. wish me luck. ♥️

[dodo-begone]

Now Listen Here Sad Bitches - Stop Being Sad

Pairing: Yan!Xisuma x Reader (idk if it's rlly yan tbh)

Request: If you’re up to it can I get yandere nHo hcs? Bc I’m desperate for nHo content, But if you don’t know enough about the nHo boys can you do a continuation of your yandere xisuma fic? bc it was really good👀

Word count: 5k words

Warning: Falling, Depression, Death, Yandere (?)(just a bit posessive/protective at the end), Bit of confusion/memory loss, Mention of Running Away

This is a Part 2 to Ugly Fuckling

If this EVER looks funky or glitched, here's a link to it on Ao3.

_______________________________________________________

A methodical ticking echoes around the room, the only indicator that time was passing. The room was nearly a blinding black, yet a ray of moonlight made its way into the room. From that, you were able to see Xisuma. Without his helmet covering his face, he looked much more welcoming and soft. It wasn’t like he wasn’t soft and welcoming anyways, he just looked so much softer and approachable. A real person - man what were you even thinking?

Mentally shaking off that train of thought, you let your mind wander onto a different topic. Since Xisuma stopped you from following through with your impulsive decision to leave, he hadn’t exactly let you out of his sight. A few of your activities were free from his supervision, but otherwise you were with him.

At first you felt like an absolute bother to him, but his insistence that it was all fine made things better. Minimally better, if you were to speak honestly. It didn’t alleviate your feelings at all. He was being so nice and attentive to you and your needs. And what were you doing with that? You were being the little debbie downer that you are and not getting better. Come on, this was all for you. That meant you had to get better for him since he was putting so much effort into making you get better.

He made you all of your favorite foods, cuddled you any time even a tear fell from your eyes, asked about what was worrying or saddening you and trying to talk you through it to feel better, and so much more. All around it was everything you needed, really it was. Everything was getting better, yet you weren’t.

This had been going on for days, and you were still thinking of leaving. Though technically you did. Maybe the entire server moved with you. Maybe that fact could be ignored. Maybe. Everyone gathered up and went to a new server not too long after your most recent “escape” attempt. You weren’t sure if it was the unsaid yearly move to a new season or what, but it seemed a little too convenient if you thought about it. But thinking was a laborious and bothersome task. So no thoughts - only depression. Yea, that’s how things rolled for you.

The thought of leaving was far from leaving your mind. It was always on the backburner, but became a prominent thought whenever you weren’t with anybody. Especially Xisuma. Voices whispered to feed your insecurities, giving a source for your depression to grow off of. And boy was it growing. Adding in this new move made you question a bit more.

You knew you wanted to leave the server because of how icky, disgusting and disappointing you were, but now you were truly realizing where the issue lay. Wel, you knew before, but it just became more evident. It wasn’t the server itself. The issue lay between you and the hermits. So that feeling of not belonging? Still rather prominent. Even with their fresh new start where everyone had the same resources, said “resources” were nonexistent since everyone started with nothing, it was rather evident you still didn’t belong.

Grian was the only one who didn’t build a “starter house” immediately. That made two hermits you knew who didn’t make a starter house. The two hermits being you and Grian, so that made you feel better. Until you found out the reason he didn’t make a house was because he went to defeat the Ender Dragon and get loot from end cities. Yea that really didn’t make you feel better. And these “starter” builds the others made were no joke. They weren’t even starters, in your opinion. These were whole builds in and of themselves. Like things you’d be building late game, if you even got around to making anything that could compare.

Once again, your mind cemented that you were very alien to this group. Alongside the “new fodder” that you had, which was really recycled thoughts, memories, or insecurities, you started to cry. Stifling your sobs without being able to cover your mouth with your hands is a very hard task. All remaining strength you had went into calming your breath and being as silent as possible. You still allowed the tears to continue their route down your cheeks with no intent to stop them. If you only allow tears to flow with no noise, you can get your emotions out while not bothering Xisuma. A win-win.

Time was illusive, slipping through your hands like sand. One moment you were crying next to Xisuma in bed then a blink later you were waking up in an empty bed. The ever annoying sun was flaunting its energy and jovial beams into the room and blinding you with it. Man, how you envied the sun. It was able to get up every day and do its duty. And not even the duty it was exactly made for. One that it conveniently worked with. A necessity to life.

Still, you layed in bed. Too lethargic to move on your own; there was no will or energy to move. Well, there was one reason; you wanted to search for Xisuma. Where could he have gone off to? He wasn’t in the bed. Somewhere else in the house? Out on a project? Who knows. The likelihood of him being gone was high and that, along with the thoughts, kept you in the bed.

The day passed. Maybe you slept. You were still very tired and very sad, so it really made no difference in the end if you did actually sleep sometime that day since nothing changed. Snuggling into the blankets for warmth and comfort, you awaited for Xisuma’s return. Though you don’t remember him saying that he was going anywhere in particular yesterday. Did he? Memories blurred together and multiple days became one mushed memory. Many memories of him mentioning future projects to you or other things came to mind. How recent were those? Mulling over your memories, you tried to pinpoint when they happened based on some other memories. You referred to them as your “time reference memories”... They had a different name, but the name eludes you. But that was their purpose, so that name shall stay.

Soon a plethora of other memories came to mind as you quickly sorted through them. So they obviously didn’t take place in the same time area-frame thingy as when you joined the Hermitcraft server. That was months ago- clearly off the table. Then did they happen around the time you were building the trash on the server? Also a big no- that’s way too early. Oh dear- all the memories that were popping up were far too early. Crap- think. Think, think, think. Come on, more recent. What about when you tried to leave? Well it happened after that, but much closer.

A flash of memories pass behind your eyes yet you can’t decipher all of them. It was obviously some memories and you could faintly see some things, but it was all a blur of colors. You didn’t have the time for this right now. After you figure this out, you could reminisce on them. Now you had to figure out which memory out of the blob you had was most recent-

Staring at the ceiling did nothing to help. No new spark of memories came up, even with your mind scrambling for any scrap it could get its little grubby hands on. Great- now you were stuck going off of his appearance and what the house looked like during those times. Now the dilemma was “which came first”. Almost every memory took place in the house.

Wait! He didn’t have the diamond armor in all of them! Only two of them had diamond armor involved. Specifically on Xisuma. You didn’t have anything on this new server. Well, compared to him or any other hermit, anyways. To say you were behind or “lagging” was an understatement. Having iron armour isn’t really a flex. Especially when it goes missing. Like who just up and loses armor like that? You do, apparently.

That isn’t the point. Stay focused! So he had armor, what did the house look like? Or anything outside the window?

Finally a lightbulb went off in your mind. Of course! He talked about a fire last time. Yes, you were sure of you. Not sure why but you were very sure of that fact. He mentioned that some gravel on a mountain was on fire and he wasn’t sure why. Then he talked about a building in the next memory… Everything was starting to add up! Oh you felt so smart right now. So good.

So what mountain did he say he was going to? It was a villager hall, right? Or was it the future place for a build… No, villager hall because he mentioned villagers and trading. Obviously not another build. But what if it was? Now you were conflicted because you were so sure but at the same time doubt pranced around your mind obnoxiously. Your anxiety was getting ticked off more.

First the disappearance of Xisuma and now your worries are getting to you? Really, it was the opposite order. More of an Oreo, but that wasn’t important.

Taking a deep breath, you try to get your thoughts under control again. Regain you cool. Alright. If you find Xisuma then you can calm everything else down. That was your biggest worry right now. The longer you didn’t know Xisuma’s location and condition, the worse your mental state became. From there, it was obvious how everything would decline.

All you had to do was go to Xisuma. Right. Go to Xisuma. Who is outside. Out of the bed. Debating on whether or not to leave the comforting confines of the blankets or search for Xisuama was definitely something. It was hard but also wasn’t all at the same time. Because yes, staying in bed and being warm would be amazing. The preferred option. But you were worried about the lack of Xisuma’s presence. That took precedence over comfort.

Grumbling, you slowly start to drag yourself out of bed. More accurately rolling out and only turning to properly get out of bed and onto your feet. Same end result really. Slowly, as to not cause a dizzy spell, you get up and walk toward the door. Said dizzy spell still hits you like a baseball gets hit by a bat, but there was an attempt. Black overtakes your vision for a second before everything goes back to normal. Boy you didn’t miss those pounding headaches with dizzy spells. Damn vertigo.

Shaking your head, you steady yourself for the journey to the outside. It was going to be perilous. Well not really, but your mind tried to come up with the worse case scenarios. Like some Dream SMP members coming for you to drag you back. Or pillagers near or at the front door. Or some other nasty mob. Oh the possibilities were nearly endless. But you had to do this.

Hyping yourself up, you mentally prepare for what you could think of. Aka prepare for something bad like pain. To be fair, pain would be better than a Dream SMP member but pain still hurts.

A noise of annoyance leaves your lips as you once again try to get yourself back on track. You hated how easily distracted you got sometimes. Though it did help in some situations. Admitting to that wouldn’t be too helpful in any regard so back to ignoring it you go.

Soon you’re back on track and continuing your journey. The only thing standing between you and the outside world stared at you. The front door. It wouldn’t be for long. All you had to do was open it and then start the other leg of your journey and- wait.

The door greeted your face with a nice hearty slam as you walked right into it. Confusion was just written all over your face. You grabbed the knob, did you not? Taking a step back, you peer down. Low and behold, you were holding the door knob. Your brows furrowed as you twisted the knob. Nothing happened. Trying with more strength and vigor or whatever might do something? Maybe it’s just stuck. Unlikely but hey! Delusions are much sweeter and easier to swallow. Plus being more violent with an inanimate object makes it work! Usually, anyways. Beat a banana and you get mush so not always. That’s besides the point because the darn door still refused to open. Huffing, you try being a little harder with the door. Though that leads to nothing but you fearing it breaking. One creak escapes the poor door and you’re off of it like a puppy squealed rather than a door.

Anxiety started to bloom in your chest for the uptenth time or whatever. It’s happened a lot and that’s all that matters. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. It’s just a door. If it breaks it can be replaced. Also it’s a door. It’s probably fine. Though you didn’t exactly want to test that. Who knows when the door is going to just say “nope! I’m done” and just break?

Leaning against the door, you slide to the floor as you think of another plan to leave. The door was locked, right? This is a brand new door we’re talking about. Rust couldn’t have shut it already, right? You were by the sea though so who knew what the salt and water was doing to it. That ruins doors, wood, and mentals, right? If only you were a builder or someone more fluent with stuff like this. Someone who knew how stuff like that worked. Because wow, you were beyond dumb on that subject.

You curl up in defeat. Bringing your knees to your face, you wrap your arms around them to secure them. To feel safer and smaller. Block out the world. All you wanted to do was stay there, just like that. Not that exact position, but you want to feel comforted and safe. A craving for belonging and love. Although something you craved, whenever it was just handed to you or offered, you turned it down. Nobody actually likes you. They just want to use you.

Everyone has used you in the past for something.

Tears started to form in your eyes. As you lift your head from the curl, you take a deep breath. This is annoying, tiring. Crying is useless right now. Nothing is going to be fixed this way.

As you subdued the tears, you looked around the house again. There had to be another exit, right? Maybe. Half of the houses you’ve lived in only had one entrance or exit. The other half either had a secret exit or another doorway. This wasn’t one of the latter, though. It was one of the former; you were only informed of one way to exit or enter the house. Xisuma didn’t mention any emergency escape. Well there weren’t any holes in the house besides that- OH WAIT!

Smacking your forehead, you scramble to your feet and look directly at the closest window. If it had the ability to, it’d probably be sweating out of fear or anxiety. Either or, that window wasn’t going to have a good time. Fortunately for you, though, the window couldn’t judge you. And the window is very easy to climb out of.

Walking closer for inspection, it didn’t seem like it’d be too hard to open. Just flick a latch or two and just lift the bottom. You’re home free after that. The latches weren’t an issue. Grabbing the bottom of the glass, you silently pray that it won’t be as stubborn as the door.

Some deity was feeling nice today because the window opened without much trouble. A little elbow grease but that was a small price to pay. Now started the awkward maneuvering to get outside. This was one thing you didn’t miss from your past.

First a leg, then the other, and slide later, you land ungraceful into the outside world. Either you were going to land on your face or bum and you didn’t want any of that. So instead you did a nice little dance.

Okay so dance would be the fun way of stating it. What happened was you stumbled around for a bit, waving your arms around in a desperate attempt to regain balance. But you get to stay on your feet, so the trade off of your dignity was well worth it. Plus nobody was around to see it.

Once balanced, you were in awe of the builds that were just a wall away. How much has changed since you last came out? How long were you inside? You only remember the comically tall portal and the partial build of the portal tower being around when you came. Besides the starting house and a few other small things, of course. But now there were two completed towers. The dark one was obviously the portal tower because of the color scheme. What was the other than? It was colored like a lighthouse with the red and white bands encompassing it, but you didn’t want to say anything definitely. After all, it was somewhat hard to tell.

The coloration indicated a lighthouse, along with the silhouette, but it looked a bit too artistically done. And when something is artistically done, it could be anything. So you’ll call it tower two! Tower two was rather pretty!

Xisuma wasn’t around though. Right. The mountain wasn't around here, was it? Where was it, anyways? It must’ve been pretty far away.

With the prospects of a long walk ahead of you, your shoulders slump. Dear lord, this was more work than you wanted to go through. Who knows how far it is! But it wasn’t just some walking for fun, it had a purpose.

Gathering your remaining energy and grit, you start the laborious, long, and treacherous journey through the continent for Xisuma. Hiking wasn’t your strong suit and keeping an eye out for Xisuma too? This makes everything so much harder.

You were only able to get off the island and back onto the mainland, where you started to scale the mountain before you heard a ruckus. Progressively, it got louder and more discernible. Yelling. Sounded like words. Gibberish, but it slowly grew clearer.

“Oh my gosh,” danced with the wind by your ears. “Oh no.” A cry of your name, or something really similar. Were those words? Those couldn’t be words, right? Whipping your head around, you see Xisuma running your way frantically. Okay, so those were most definitely words if the scene before you proved anything.

Excited, you start your descent back to the ground. Step by step. Is it step by step when you’re climbing? Your focus is on Xisuma. Pretty much entirely. It really shouldn’t have as you misjudge the next step. In the blink of an eye you went from viewing rock to viewing sky and a scary feeling building in your chest. The feeling grew exponentially and it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on.

A scream ripped its way from your chest as it tightened more. Said scream doesn’t last long for it ended as quickly as it came. No air could move, no noise could come out any more. Air was stuck in your throat, unable to reach your lungs. Fear paralyzed your muscles, eyes shut for there was no difference in the view. Everything was blurred and the black was more welcoming and comforting.

Too fast. Time wasn’t even a consideration. A social construct thrown out the window as soon as your fingers lose contact with the rocks.

The ground had to be near by now. It felt like hours passed now, but at the same time everything seemed to be zipping by.

Contact is made, and you expect it to be the end. You grunt as all remaining air is forced from your body. Another noise came from beneath you. Gasping for air, panic made you feel so cold. Is this what death felt like? No air was coming in and you definitely hit the ground. Were you going to die because you slipped up?

Black was encompassing your vision once again. Frantic attempts to regain air were barely rewarded for your lungs remained mostly empty. Everything still felt paralized, but now your chest felt worse. It hurt so much.

Something was moving beneath you. Pink entered your failing vision. It shifted you around, moving your head and body. More accurately, it moved. Your head was placed on a soft surface while your body was on something else.

Slowly your vision ebbed back to reality. Or you did. Everything still felt wonky. But an axolotl helmet came to greet you. That was a nice thing about your vision clearing, you guessed. Pretty pink axolotl.

“Are you okay,” the axolotl shakily asks. It’s hands were shaking and it sounded masculine.

“Yea,” your voice felt and sounded weird. Very airy, frail, and kinda delirious. You know, the “I don't feel right” type of delirious. Is that delirious? Oh wait you were talking! “Yea i’m good.”

“Are you sure,” the axolotl keeps persisting. It seemed to be looking over you for any injuries. How nice of it! “Double sure? Triple sure? No scrapes? Nothing hurts?”

“I’m absolutely sure,” you assure. Man this was a comfy place and you wanted to stay here longer, but you need to get standing. With shaky arms and legs, you unsteadily get up, stumbling or leaning a bit too much at times. The axolotl panics and helps you to your feet, never letting go afterwards. You thank it for its help and try to walk away, back to Xisuma’s house. Though it assists you, staying by your side as if it were attached with cement.

“You need to stop doing stuff like this,” it begs, leading you by the elbow. “It’s like everytime i’m gone, you purposely go get yourself into trouble, get hurt, or try to leave. I don’t get it. Why do you keep doing it?”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. What’s it even talking about?

Suddenly a thought hits you like lighting and everything starts to line up. This is literally Xisuma. How did you forget that? He changes skins with every new season. Wow you either hit your head, panicked and forgot every important detail ever, or you really needed the oxygen for those brain cells because they finally got what they needed to function.

“Sorry,” you really are sorry. For half of those things, if not almost all of them. If you were simply allowed to go back to the Dream smp in peace, you would be completely fine. Not a bother to the hermits, not a walking hazard to society, and you wouldn’t feel inadequate anymore… Actually that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went or what you did. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Xisuma doesn’t reply to your words and you start to panic again. “You weren’t in the house and I got really anxious, okay? I didn’t remember where you said you were going and I just… I needed a hug. I know that sounds stupid or childish, but i wasn’t feeling good. And you said that if I needed something, I'd just have to go to you. Oh who am i kidding, this was the dumbest thing ever. I’m so so sorry for bothering you-” Tears started to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision entirely. You were thankful that you weren’t walking alone while like this. Who knew what else you’d get yourself hurt on.

Not only were your words stopped, but your whole body was too. Jerked back by Xisuma, your teary eyes look directly at his visor which only reflects back your pitiful face. Though you don’t see it for long as you’re pulled into a hug by Xisuma. This only causes you to cry harder.

“Hey hey hey,” Xisuma’s voice is a low murmur, a comforting rumble from his chest. “It’s okay. It’s alright. Did I not tell you where I was going before I left?”

Shaking your head, a tiny “no” escapes you between sobs. Xisuma just hugs you tighter and you snuggle closer. That’s if you can, but you still try.

“Oh i’m so sorry,” he starts to pat and rub your back in a comforting manner, repeatedly apologizing for forgetting to tell you. And other things. Though you can’t exactly tell what they are through your sobbing.

It takes ages for you to calm down. You don’t really have much to go off of, besides the sun. What was once a noon sun glaring down on you was a peaceful sunset over the ocean. When you finish crying, only shaky breaths and tear stains remain to show off the previous crying fit. That and the red eyes.

The sunset is pretty, so you focus on that. Positioning your face to not have it smooshed into Xisuma’s chestplate was a struggle since he was holding you so tightly. But you managed. Soon your face wasn’t full on smooshed into his chest plate, only the side. Your cheek was definitely doing that pancake thing which smooshes out like a flat tire.

Everything’s so peaceful and quiet. Only the waves and sea life disturb it, but it made a great background noise. Xisuma soon adds to everything with some light humming. Rumbling from the chest is so comforting. Why was it such a forgettable yet amazing thing? It felt so nice.

With the humming came some rocking. Going side to side, humming a nonsensical tune. Not long after, you join in as well. Yours was definitely less consistently though, for it was broken up but little giggles. The longer you two went on, the more you giggled.

His arms unwrap themselves and you feel disappointed and saddened by the loss. You needn’t wait for long though, as on both sides of your body, you suddenly feel a tingly sensation. Bursting out into laughter, you try to struggle away from the tickle attack Xisuma has launched on you. But he’s relentless, keeping up with your retreat. It’s only when you’re out of breath, on the ground, and playfully yelling your surrender at him, that he stops.

You two start to calm down again. Laughter slowly ebbed away to chuckles or silence. Not an uncomfortable or awkward silence by any means. A safe and comforting one.

“Come on,” Xisuma prompts, getting up from the crouched position he had to be in for his attack, giving out his hand when he was properly on his feet. “Let’s get home before mobs start to spawn.” You’re more than happy to take his hands. With a pull, you’re brought back to your feet. But you two don’t let go of each other’s hands.

Together you two finish the trek home, and rather quickly too. With the sun setting, it was just a matter of minutes before danger would appear. Luckily you two made it to safety without any issues. The beginning area Xisuma had set up was well lit, safe from the dark and the dangers it harbors.

Being back in the base area made you feel more at peace, calmer, less endangered. Whatever you wanted to say, but you felt safer. And everything looked so pretty at night! You really need to come out more with Xisuma. Staring in awe at the builds in a different light, you and Xisuma dawdle on home.

Everything was perfect again. Just like before. You were happy, Xisuma was happy, what else could you need.

Xisuma walks ahead of you to unlock the front door, to which you say a little “thank you” out of habit and slip on by him and into the house. You do mean it, but still, it’s a habit drilled into you.

After getting back into the house, with some idle chit-chat, you start to get things fixed up in the house. Some dinner was in order for the two of you. After all, you just tried to climb a mountain to find Xisuma and who knows if Xisuma actually ate today. Plus you haven't had anything to eat yet. Whoops.

Leaving Xisuma to his own devices, you continue your conversation as you prepare a meal.

You don’t notice him locking the door and windows, or the dark look he has when he sees the window open, or him putting the keys in his pocket after locking all of the other windows. When he doesn’t reply immediately, though, you turn toward the last direction you heard him from, only to reveal an empty house. Perplexed, you look around a bit, but are stopped by a tap on your shoulder.

Jumping, you whirl around to see Xisuma without his helmet on, chuckling at your reaction. Laughing along with him, you give him a nudge with your hip. He returns it, laughing harder when you’re bumped away from him. This goes on for a while as you cook dinner, with Xisuma helping you.

The night goes on like this. Full of gentle, playful antics and a loving atmosphere. The love you felt was immense. You hadn’t felt happier in months.

Xisuma hasn’t been so scared in months either.

He should’ve secured the house better. Made sure you were fine before he left. Locked the windows before he left.

Now he knows to lock windows. You’d try to use them in the future. Better a situation where you went looking for him than you leaving him. But now he knew.

And all was good again.

[emmerrr]

Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!

anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)

-

Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)

He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.

An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.

“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want.”

Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”

Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”

Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.

He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”

Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”

“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.

A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.

“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.

“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.

“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”

Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.

“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.

“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.

“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.

“What are you doing?” Declan asks.

Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”

Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”

“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”

“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”

Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”

Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?

“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”

“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.

“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”

Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”

“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.

After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.

“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”

Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”

Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”

Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.

Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”

Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.

“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”

Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”

Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.

A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.

“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”

“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”

“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.

“You should get her a card, at least.”

“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.

“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”

Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.

He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”

So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.

Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.

“Which tie is more appropriate?”

“Neither.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”

“Alright, smartass, point taken.”

When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.

He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.

“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.

“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”

Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.

He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.

“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”

“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”

“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”

They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.

Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you this week,” she says.

“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”

“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”

Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.

She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”

“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”

Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.

She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.

“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.

“Oh yeah?”

He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”

“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.

She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.

Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”

She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.

Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”

“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”

“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”

Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”

“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”

“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”

Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”

“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”

Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.

They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.

They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.

“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.

Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”

The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”

Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”

“...Churros sound good.”

Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.

“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.

“Sure you would,” Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”

“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”

Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

[selfilluminatingkyu]

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

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You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile. 

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters. 

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader); 

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer. 

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was. 

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round. 

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man. 

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul. 

You were people, not property. 

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more. 

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow. 

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely. 

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him. 

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands. 

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings. 

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go. 

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again. 

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.” 

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?” 

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.” 

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself. 

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask. 

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.” 

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad. 

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity. 

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.” 

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room. 

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response. 

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.” 

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.” 

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did? 

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask. 

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all. 

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly. 

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item. 

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe. 

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia. 

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again. 

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think. 

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other? 

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards. 

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority. 

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts. 

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides. 

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?” 

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.” 

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror. 

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized. 

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all. 

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted. 

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent. 

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on. 

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back. 

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless. 

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure. 

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.” 

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.” 

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness. 

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long. 

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck. 

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly. 

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.” 

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long. 

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder. 

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?” 

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Faith (Airdorf Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: John Ward (Faith Video Game), Amy Martin (Faith Video Game) Additional Tags: Michael is kinda here too but not the main focus, yet anyway, First game has five endings but here's another one because I don't have problems, Faith Crisis, Other note John is Specifically called A Young Priest so he's like mid-twenties here, Canon typical violence referenced, I've been calling the verse this leads into the demon children au, But I'm not sure how much further I want to go with dedicated writing, So enjoy this and I may or may not come back with more.

Summary:  What if John was able to speak with Amy at the end instead of only having the option to shoot her or leave her to die?

The gun was heavy in John’s hands. There was only a single bullet in it, and the words written in red on the wall made it clear who it was for.

“KILL HER.”

This was the only way to finish the job, wasn’t it? Amy was already too far gone physically to be brought back, and putting her soul to rest was how he had to end it.

Wasn’t it?

That’s what his teachings had taught him. They had been very insistent that there was generally a point of no return, and Amy had crossed it.

Then why would she run? Was it a ruse?

Why was a demon telling him to end her life? That in itself should be a red flag, shouldn’t it?

When had he gotten to the point that killing a child would be the kindest mercy he could offer her?

John knew what the demon possessing her could do. He had been front and center to the performance, and it still haunted his nightmares, despite what he had told the psychologist. The fact that everyone kept telling him it couldn’t have been real only added fuel to the fire of his broken mind.

His reflection felt less and less like him as the days passed.

He shuddered as he stepped out of the broken down house. The woods were eerily quiet outside of the wind blowing through the trees. The white creature that had chased him was nowhere to be seen, and he didn’t hear the telltale rustling of trees that warned him of its coming.

Even if she was still possessed, Amy’s body would still be weak after the confrontation in the attic and throwing herself out of the window. Whatever he did next had to happen now, or all the lives lost would be for naught.

The blood trails were hard to follow, but even when the red blended in with the foliage, the sharp smell of rust would guide him along.

If she wasn’t dead yet, he doubted she would be alive for much longer. Human bodies only had so much blood they could lose, and demons were quick to forget that when playing with their pawns. The consequences were only temporary for them, after all.

He had to finish this. Not break down like he had a year ago.

That was what he told himself as he continued his hunt through the dark woods.

The sound of crashing through the underbrush caught John’s attention, and he swung the gun in that direction and waited with baited breath and a thundering heart.

When a herd of deer ran by, he didn’t ease his stance until silence fell again, and he was sure that whatever had spooked the animals wasn’t coming behind them.

He contemplated going in that direction, on the off chance Amy had gone that way, but the blood trail was too fresh for him to ignore. And the likelihood of finding something else was high.

Eventually, the trees opened into a clearing, and at the far end, he could see Amy. The torn hem of her dress was flecked with blood, and even from this distance, he could see blood seeping through the cuts in her back. She was facing away from him as she staggered towards the woods.

John had to make a choice.

He could shoot her and end it now. He could let her live, and the demon could use her for more death and destruction before she perished. He could leave her, and she would die from her injuries because the demon had already left.

One could never tell which ploy a demon would use to kill their victims. It was often safer to kill a vessel to make sure the demon couldn’t hurt anyone in that form anymore.

But she was a child.

And he wasn’t even a decade older than she was.

Please, God, take this cup away from me.

His eyes were starting to blur.

… When did his face get wet?

Trails of tears were falling down his face as the weight of what he was contemplating fully hit him. The grip on the gun had grown shaky as it pulled him down.

He dropped it when he dropped to his knees.

I can’t do this, Lord.

The safety was still on, thankfully, but the impact made a noise that made the mostly purple blur turn into a brown and purple blur.

When he wiped his eyes, he could see the red void her face had turned into pointed in his direction.

I’m going to die.

The realization should have scared him. Especially since he knew how violently his end would be at her hands. But all he could feel was a vague sense of relief and guilt. It would no longer be in his hands to do this, but everything indicated that he had failed her again.

Unless…

“Amy, is that you?” He didn’t mean for his voice to catch on her name, but he knew he was throwing a hail Mary.

“You’re that priest? Why are you...” He wasn’t sure how she could see given her condition, but the way her head moved indicated that she was looking him up and down. He could see her body tense as he assumed she saw the gun.

She backed away from him, but her legs did not agree with the movement and she fell to the ground. “It’s gone! I swear!” She started to scoot herself backwards. She probably didn’t think he’d believe her.

Did he?

The distortion in her voice was gone, but that was something the demon could easily turn off when it wanted to. That was how it convinced the officers that what happened the year prior was a vast misunderstanding gone horribly wrong.

John’s arms refused to move. “I-”

Why can’t I do this? I can’t fail her again. I can’t. I can’t. I can’tIcan’tIcan’t-

“Watch out!” Amy’s voice cracked as she suddenly jumped to her feet. The movement wasn’t smooth given her condition, but she started bolting in his direction.

He couldn’t do it. Instead he fell forwards onto his hands in fear as he waited for the end.

That’s when he heard it. There was rustling behind him, and he was again reminded of the other creature hunting in the woods.

“FAAAaaaATHhHEEeeeERRRrr!” The cry activated the habit of yanking his crucifix out, and he swung it around behind him as he tried to turn and stand at the same time.

It wasn’t necessary.

As the creature leapt towards him, a red arm swung out over him, caught its face, and threw it against the ground.

His eyes traced the arm back to its owner, and it went back to Amy’s face. The connection made him scramble away from her, but she collapsed as the arm retracted back into the void.

“Leave her, demon!” He cried out as he pointed the crucifix towards Amy. At this point, he wasn’t expecting the command to work, but the gun wasn’t practical to grab for now, and the protection the crucifix offered was better than nothing.

“Purge the demon, now! Before he gets back up!” She called out instead. She wasn’t jerking away from the cross, but she wasn’t really in a state to run, either.

… He couldn’t point the cross at both of them, and the tangled limbs on the white creature were already starting to scramble to stand up again.

He had to take a chance.

John finally stood up tall and pointed the crucifix towards the demon possessed creature and started to recite the Latin that Father Allred had forced him to memorize. Even if his own faith in a higher power was fading, his faith in the words was strong.

The creature caught on to what he was doing, and the unnaturally long arms and legs started to crawl backwards.

Until the red arm once again appeared and latched onto a wrist that was far too thin for a creature this size.

It struggled against the grip and screamed a wordless cry that reverberated in John’s ears, but he could vaguely still hear Amy over the horribly loud noise. “Keep going!”

He kept speaking the words of the rite even as his ears started to ring, and he persevered even as a clump of dirt was chucked in his direction.

As he finished the last word, the screaming and flailing suddenly stopped as the creature suddenly dropped limp.

The red arm disappeared as well, and John could fully take in the scene. The white vaguely humanoid creature was laid out like puppet with the strings cut, and the glowing red eyes were shut as if they were asleep. Amy’s bloody form was nearby, and since she was face down, it was easy to forget what had happened to her.

She hadn’t reacted to the crucifix even when the creature had pulled her into the line of fire, and he now had to consider what that meant. As well as figuring out whether the rite had worked on the other… what he had to guess what had once been a human.

Neither reacted to the cross being pointed at them now, and even if the host appeared unconscious, demons did not like holy symbols being directed towards them.

The gun was close by, he remembered. Even if it only had one bullet… He stopped.

Instead he stowed the crucifix away and stood over Amy with an offered hand. “Can you stand?”

There was a moment of silence, and he suddenly feared that maybe it was too late. Then a quiet voice said, “Yeah. It hurts though...” She turned over and weakly reached for his hand.

He pulled her up and offered her a shoulder to lean against. “You lost a lot of blood. I have some bandages in my car, but we have to get there first.”

“What about...” She trailed off as she looked towards the unconscious person.

John weighed his options, before lightly pushing her away. She got the hint and balanced herself so that she could stand without him. In a move that he only learned from one of his college friends, he picked them in a fireman’s hold. The hands and feet were only barely off the ground, but despite the their relatively large size, they were much lighter than he expected.

Whatever that demon had done to this person’s physical body was extreme. He highly doubted this would ever come undone. Much like what had happened to Amy’s face.

Thankfully, Amy could manage without his aid, because even if the other formerly demon possessed person was lighter than expected, he was not someone who lifted for a living.

The trek back to the car was extremely quiet. He had so many questions to potentially ask Amy, but he didn’t think she would be able to give straight answers right now.

He also had questions for the person passed out on his shoulders.

The car was a welcome sight on the side of the road, and for the time being, he laid the person down in the back seat. It was cramped, to say the least, but there was a chance that someone could drive by, and possibly freak out if they saw them.

As for Amy, he bandaged the worst of the wounds, but the first aid kit he kept in his car was not meant to handle so many at once.

“We should probably go to the hospital,” He said as he patched up a nasty gash on her arm.

“How are we going to explain this?” She said with a wave at her face. If her face had simply been mutilated, it would have been difficult, but the red void made it impossible to explain to an everyday person.

He sighed. “I don’t know. But you jumped out of a window-”

Amy interrupted, “I know. I was in the backseat of my own body.” The reminder made her voice tremble.

There was a visible flinch as he muttered an apology. Instead he tried to go back to the original topic. “We can try a mask or something, but most places don’t like it if they can’t see your face,” he mused aloud.

“You know that won’t work.”

“… I know.”

With the worst taken care of, she sat in the passenger front seat, and he got in the driver’s side.

Night was starting to fall as he followed the winding roads back to the town he lived in, and Amy passed out within a few minutes of the drive starting.

With both of his passengers out cold, he could think on the last few hours without interruption. He hadn’t needed to take a life tonight, and he was grateful for that above all else. He hadn’t signed up to be a priest in order to kill people.

… Frankly, he hadn’t really signed up to fight demons like this, either, but that was what his training had been focused on, for some reason.

While he once would have attributed his success to Providence, now he wasn’t so sure. There were a lot of lucky circumstances today, for sure, but a part of him was. Uneasy. About what was to happen next. He wasn’t considered experienced enough to say that the exorcisms were successful, but they had to be if they weren’t reacting to the crucifix anymore, right?

He wasn’t sure even what the next move could be for Amy and the other person, but he had a few contacts in the Church that were still willing to speak with him.

Maybe someone else with more experience would know what to do.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, serenelystrange!

For @serenelystrange. Hope this was the right balance for your prompt and that it had just the right amount of Christmas Fluff, Merry Christmas :)

Read On AO3

*****

Make you Mine this season

The flight to Melbourne was a long one and not for the first time Stiles was cursing the fact that Lydia had refused to use at least some of the cash from their Patreon to upgrade from cattle class to at least business class so he could try and sleep out the jet lag. He had heard of more than enough podcasters that would use their Patreon money for more non-essentials than that but since her email address was on the account it seemed to make her the boss where the finances were concerned.

Of course being on a non-stop Seventeen hour flight with a minor stop over in Sydney was something that he appreciated but he wasn’t sure that his back would thank him for the small seat he was in which was crushed up against the window as he had stupidly taken the window seat instead of the middle.

He cast a glance at Lydia whose nose was deep into a book on Australian serial killers which was part of her research for one of their three Australian based episodes while they were staying in the country. Usually he would be right there with her, trying to decide on which was the most gruesome and which had the most information to warrant an hour long episode but since their wake up call had been ridiculously early leaving him packing his books in his suitcase instead of his carry on he was instead trying to find a documentary of interest on the inflight entertainment system which was to do with true crime instead of the life and times of a retired sports star that he didn’t really care about.

Though against his will he did seem to find himself letting the documentary play, his gaze out the window instead of on the screen as the documentary played though his earphones, letting his thoughts wander to the person that he always seemed to find himself thinking of when stuck on a plane for hours on end with nothing else to do.

While his and Lydia’s podcast focused on all the ins and outs of true crime, from the historic to cults to everything in between, his best friend Derek’s was focused not just on the history of sports but the most up to date sports news. It was something that Stiles didn’t really get having not exactly been into sports since he had spent most of his time on the lacrosse team at high school on the bench no matter how hard he had tried. Though his oldest friend Scott had tried numerous times unsuccessfully to actually get him on the team there was no denying that it was a lost cause leaving him with a kind of hatred for sports which had seen his interests instead settle on the academic which had swiftly moved to True crime after going down a Youtube hole of True Crime documentaries on Ted Bundy late one night in his last year at school. It had been the beginning of an obsession that had concerned his father as though he was sure that would consume Stiles to practise what he learned which there was no likelihood of happening, despite him being the town sheriff who’d let Stiles read the files he brought home since he was in middle school.

Of course, that hatred of sports had faded when he first met Derek.

It had been his and Lydia’s first podcast festival in LA, and Stiles who had had an overwhelming case of stage fright before he even got on stage, had been sitting on the side as Lydia talked with their management about a Plan B in case Stiles did something embarrassing out of nerves. That was when Derek came and sat beside him.

Even at that moment Stiles had known Derek was handsome in a way that he had long since considered his type. Tall and muscular with a slender waist and his biceps making it obvious that at some point or another he had been a jock, yet it had been his face which had Stiles’ heart pounding his chest. The perfectly chiselled cheek bones, the alluring green eyes and stubble that seemed to enhance his lips and make Stiles unable to look away.

Derek seemed to feel Stiles staring at him from where he was looking over his notes for his panel and looked up with a frown.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No….no sorry. I am just a little nervous. I’ve never done a panel before and I’m scared I’m going to do something wrong.” Stiles said offering him a weak smile that immediately had Derek’s frown melting into an understanding smile.

“I promise the first one is always the hardest but once it’s done, you’ll wonder what you were so worried about. Just think of it this way, everyone out there has paid to see you because they obviously like what your podcast is about and no matter what happens they won’t hold it against you. You just need to relax.” Derek assured him.

“You aren’t going to tell me to picture them naked are you?" Stiles asked, watching Derek laugh that seemed to make his face even more irresistible to Stiles’ fledgling crush in the making.

“God no. My first manager tried to tell me that with my first one and it only made it worse. No just pretend that a friend is stood at the very back and you are talking to only them. It helps you to focus on what you are saying instead of trying to be someone that you’re not for the sake of the panel.” Derek said, rolling up his notes between his hands.

“Ok, but I don’t really have any friends here and the only person I know is the one I’ll be at the panel with. It makes it kind of hard to focus on that.” Stiles said watching Derek tilt his head in understanding.

“Ok well how about this, I could stand at the back if you think it would help.” Derek suggested.

“Only if you tell me your name.” Stiles said, watching the other roll his eyes like Stiles had just used a bad chat up line on him.

“it’s Derek, Derek Hale. Yours?” Derek asked.

“Stiles, Stiles Stilinski. And before you say anything yes, I know how bad it is.” Stiles said, earning a grin from Derek.

“Good to meet you, Stiles….” Derek smiled, though he was interrupted by a tall blond woman who stood between the two so Derek would fixate only on her.

“Derek, honey you’re on next. They’ve managed to sort out the issue with the projector and the PA so I’ve given them the USB with the PowerPoint.” She smiled, her fingertips caressing Derek’s neck though from what Stiles could see Derek hadn’t exactly been happy at her interrupting them but before he could say a word a member of staff had appeared and was herding Derek on stage leaving Stiles staring after him even after he was gone and Lydia had come back.

“So, I’ve spoken to Aiden and he’s agreed to cut the panel short if you go off topic….” Lydia said, though she paused when she realised wasn’t paying her attention. “Hey, Stiles!”

“Yeah yeah sorry. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Stiles said, letting his attention move to the copy of the script Lydia had already prepared for them.

Once he got on the stage and spotted Derek standing at the back against the wall of the hall, his nerves had disappeared, and it had been as easy as breathing. Almost as though he and Lydia were back in their apartment just recording a regular episode.

Once the panel was over, he had looked for Derek in the crowd of other podcasters hanging around but not been able to catch sight of him.

It wasn’t until the afterparty that he spotted him, drunk off his face and making out with the blonde woman from before up against the wall outside of the toilets. It had made something in his stomach squirm with jealousy and left him returning to the bar himself hoping that if he drunk enough, he could erase the vision from his memory.

He had tried to tell himself that there was little if any chance of him and Derek being together anyway, that they were probably better off as acquaintances that saw each other once in a blue moon at cons and festivals. But that seemed to fade when the week after the festival their podcast Talk Murder to me social media accounts received requests from Derek’s podcast accounts called The final countdown with Derek.

It then seemed to grow with Derek himself following Stiles’ own accounts, leaving comments on pictures and retweeting tweets they released when a new episode was out. A fledgling kind of friendship grew there, and though Stiles tried not to obsessive over it when he saw more and more pictures of the blonde woman called Kate on Derek’s Instagram page, with the two of them doing all the couple pictures it had that feeling from before returning twice as much every time.

Stiles even made himself listen to Derek’s podcast just to hear the sound of the other’s voice, to hear him using laymen's terms instead of all the complicated technical terms that others not interested in the sport would not understand. To hear him laughing with the odd guest he brought on which all seemed to be related to Derek’s own sports past from baseball to basketball to football it was like Derek had done everything and made Stiles even more sure that the other would never feel the same way.

It wasn’t until the DCon a few months later that they met up again and it had been like they had never parted as they had drinks at the bar the first night. As Stiles asked Derek about the episodes he’d listened to of Derek’s podcast and Derek asked Stiles what had got him into True crime and why all the murderers they chose seemed to be well-known instead of the lesser known.

And with that their friendship just continued to grow, through Derek’s break up with Kate who had cheated on him with one of his guests and saw all pictures of her deleted from his Instagram in the space of a week after Stiles skyped him to check he was ok, to Stiles moving from California to Chicago on a scholarship leaving him meeting Derek in New York every weekend to show him all the best places as he got settled in.

It all just seemed so normal, but Stiles would be lying if he said his crush had not continue to grow on the other which always seemed worse after Skyping Derek when he had come back from the gym and was always shirtless revealing a body that Stiles daydreamed about constantly. Something he confided in Lydia about one night when Derek had dropped him off after a bar crawl through the western village. To her credit though Lydia wasn’t surprised in the slightest but had told him to be careful about getting in too deep when it was painfully clear how straight Derek was and that it would only ever end in heartbreak.

Stiles tried to keep that in mind, really, he did, especially when Derek started dating a cheerleader called Jennifer from the New York Jets. How yet again the jealousy would set in and leave him ghosting Derek online for a few days as he tried to work through the reality that him and Derek could never be anything more. Thankfully it was around the time his scholarship finished and he managed to leave town at the same time Derek took Jenifer to the Hamptons for a long weekend so he didn’t have to answer any awkward questions.

He moved in with Lydia and their new manager/her new boyfriend Jordan in LA, which was awkward too but he didn’t really want to move back to Beacon hills if he could get away with it. And since they lived together it made the production of their episodes all the smoother as they were able to plan things weeks in advance.

Of course, that all came to a head when they attended the Vancouver podcast festival before starting the long tour through Europe for live panels. Stiles had kept his distance from Derek this time, staying with the true crime crowd when at the venue as he finally met people he had only been speaking to online from other podcasts. It had been surprisingly easy to just forget that Derek was even there as the convention was the biggest one in Canada and everyone there just stuck with their own genre.

But then the after party came and Stiles had been drinking at the bar alone to give Jordan and Lydia the time alone that they needed. That was the downside to being the third wheel in both the business and the apartment. He tried not to let it get to him, as there was little if any chance of him seeing himself with anyone that wasn’t Derek. That night he was at least going to try with Theo the producer from a podcast on criminology, the other buying him just enough drinks to have him buzzed and kissing him up against the edge of the bar hard enough that Stiles could at least pretend for a moment that it was Derek.

As the other’s mouth detoured to kissing Stiles’ neck hard enough to leave very visible bruises and the alcohol making Stiles’ inhibitions so low that if Theo had asked he would have easily gone to a room or hell even a cubicle in the mens bathroom. But that illusion had been interrupted by the sound of Derek saying his name from the other end of the bar just as Theo’s fingers were unzipping his fly.

“Um, Derek?" Stiles murmured, his back still arching against the bar edge and the thrum of arousal flowing through his veins when Theo’s fingers curled around his cock through his boxers.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Derek asked, appearing beside them looking furious as though he was sure Theo was taking advantage of him.

“Getting a hand job what does it look like?" Stiles sighed, Theo mouthing at his neck in an attempt to keep him fixated on what they were doing causing Stiles to curse and push one hand into Theo’s back pocket to pull him closer into his personal space.

“Come on Stiles, you’re drunk let’s get you up to your room so you can sleep it off.” Derek said, Stiles groaning as he felt the impending orgasm just on the brink of Theo jerking him off a few more times.

“Or…. you could come to my room Stiles. Just you, me, a bed, your clothes on the floor and a good thorough fucking. What do you say?” Theo crooned softly into Stiles’ ear, his pace around Stiles’ cock picking up.

“Oh god yeah…” Stiles groaned, curling his free hand in Theo’s hair, and pulling his lips from his neck to meet his own just as the orgasm crashed over him.

“Stiles, this is a bad idea.” Derek tried as Stiles’ mouth opened willingly to Theo’s tongue while the other tried to hold him up against the edge of the bar while zipping his fly.

“I think that’s up to Stiles, don’t you? Still keen Stiles?" Theo snarked at Derek, before turning his attention back to Stiles who was downing the last of his tequila shot to leave.

“Um, yeah but you’ll have to make sure I don’t fall on the way to the lift….” Stiles sighed, Theo’s arm curling around his waist and easing him from against the side of the bar before leading the way out the bar towards his room.

After that night Derek didn’t speak to him, which was just as well for Stiles as the less time they spoke the more he could focus on easing back on his crush. It helped a little that Theo was pulled along on their tour through Europe but it soon became clear to Theo that Stiles was hung up on someone else and just using him for the relief he couldn’t get otherwise. Once the European tour was over Theo returned to the states while they continued to the Japanese podcast festival in Tokyo, leaving Stiles the third wheel yet again and wishing more than anything that Derek would contact him.

It took a couple of months in the run up to the Webby Awards for them to start talking again, Derek having long since broken things off with Jennifer though when Stiles asked why Derek got an indiscernible look on his face and said something about how she was always touring with the players meaning little time for them to be together although to Stiles it didn’t seem complete true but he didn’t push as they still hadn’t completely rebuilt their bridges. That year they had both gotten nominated for Webbys and since the awards were in New York Derek seemed determined that they spent as much time together as possible. Something which Stiles knew was going to cause his crush to flare up again but there was nothing he could really do to stop it.

Everytime he and Derek went out with Lydia and Jordan his co-presenter would flash him that look that told him to be careful but that she felt sorry for him being in this position with Derek again. But Stiles tried not to think of that, to not focus on the fact his heart was probably going to break again when Derek started seeing someone else and instead on actually getting to spend time together with a friend he hasn’t seen in months.

Being at the award show together was something Stiles knew he would never forget as he watched Derek get the Webby award for best sports podcast while he and Lydia jointly received the Webby People’s voice award in comedic podcasts. It was a big night and yet when it came to the after-party Stiles found himself yet again sat alone at the bar watching all the other winners and participants mingling among themselves and celebrating. Lydia and Jordan had left early with the trophy to make up for lost time in their hotel room leaving Stiles wondering where Derek was as he reached for the tequila.

Derek finally appeared from a crowd of fashion vloggers that had taken a fancy to him at the ceremony not that Stiles could blame them, but instead he made his way to the bar and took a seat beside Stiles. It didn’t escape Stiles’ notice that they were back in the same situation they had been when they stopped talking before but at least this time there was no-one else making a move on the other though Stiles was sure at least one of the fashion vloggers would try again after a few more drinks.

“Big night huh?" Stiles smiled, toasting Derek with his glass at the other ordered beer from the bartender.

“Yeah, I guess it has been, though I never thought I would find myself getting a Webby for a podcast. It seems a bit surreal.” Derek said, setting his trophy on the bar and looking at it as though he was sure it would disappear if he didn’t.

“Same here, I mean for me and Lydia it was just a hobby to put out there to begin with and now we have thousands of fans willing to pay through Patreon to support us financially. Although to be fair now I can’t exactly imagine myself doing anything else.” Stiles said downing his shot and ordering another.

“Yeah, I mean it gives me a sense of achievement that I never managed to completely reach when I was a sports star, you’re always trying to reach for the next trophy or the next record you know? At least with this I know I’m doing something that people enjoy that was initially just for me. Though sometimes I do wonder…” Derek said, wistfully looking at Stiles he got his next shot.

“About what?” Stiles asked, squeezing the lime juice into the shot.

“There’s been a few podcasts that have gone on to create their own network to help other people with putting their podcasts out there. I think I’d like to do something like that…I just wouldn’t know where to start.” Derek said thoughtfully downing a mouthful of his beer.

“I suppose that would be amazing to do, but honestly me and Lydia struggle enough to so much as keep our own going now. Even with the odd producer on tap and Jordan as management I’m not sure we would be able to keep something like that a float. Still if that is something you think you would like to do you can always send feelers out to other podcasts in your genre and see if they would be interested in combining your resources to make something like that happen.” Stiles shrugged, toying with the empty lime.

“Yeah I’ll have to give it some more thought.” Derek agreed downing the rest of his beer and making like he was about to get up when Stiles rested a hand on his arm.

“Where are you going? The night’s still young and besides, we’re celebrating!” Stiles grinned causing Derek to sigh but sit back down and order them each some more shots as Stiles downed his second in one.

They spent most of the night into the early hours downing shots and coming up with ludicrous ideas for podcast network names as well coming up with new episode ideas for the other’s podcast. They were still there as the staff started coming around to clear up and herd the remaining occupants to the door which seemed to contain quite a few fashions vloggers stumbling in their high heels like they had been waiting for Derek to leave the bar before giving Derek a come on. But Derek seemed more fixated on Stiles coming to crash at his as it was closer to the venue and would mean he didn’t have to worry about getting an uber or waking Lydia.

In the back of Stiles’ mind alarm bells started ringing, but he still agreed letting Derek’s arm curl around his waist as they walked down the sidewalk to make sure he didn’t stumble and fall into the gutter. But that little touch had a spark reigniting the previously dormant crush deep in Stiles’ mind. He tried to silence it by listening to Derek rambling on about an idea for a podcast that was solely on different mythologies around the world and why they were so different.

Derek seemed to have planned at least the first ten episodes by the time they go to his apartment building, though he nearly dropped his webby when trying to find his keys leaving him to hand it to Stiles for safe keeping while he found it in his wallet. Stiles followed his lead into the building, using the webby in his hand to try and ground him before he did something he regretted though when they got in the lift it seemed like whatever restraint he had left disappeared when the doors closed behind them.

Derek was still rambling about an episode involving Polynesian mythology compared with the Caribbean when Stiles pushed himself away uneasily from the wall and approached where Derek was leaning in a corner to keep his balance, letting his fingertips graze Derek’s cleanshaven cheek when he crowded into his personal space.

“Stiles….” Derek sighed at the touch; his eyes flickering closed as though it had been so long since someone had so much as touched him that it broke Stiles’ heart.

Before he could stop himself, he was leaning in and kissing Derek deeply.

He froze once the kiss was finished expecting Derek to shove him off and ask him what the hell but instead Derek’s fingers curled in his hair while his other arm curled around Stiles’ neck to bring him closer when he kissed him back. It was a deeper kiss, tainted by the taste of tequila and lime but to Stiles it was perfect because it was Derek’s tongue in his mouth, Derek’s hand sliding down his back to palm at his ass and Derek’s hot body pressed up against his torso.

“Um god Der….” He murmured as the other deepened the kiss even more sliding his hand up the back of Stiles’ dress shirt to brush against his bare back, the touch feeling like an electric current flowing through his very veins.

At some point Derek took control, backing Stiles’ body up against the opposite wall so his back pushed against the emergency stop button. Derek’s lips detouring from Stiles’ lips to his neck once his collar buttons were ripped open despite the murmur of objection from Stiles’ lips at being deprived of Derek’s tongue in his mouth. He soon found all his shirt buttons open and Derek’s mouth moving to colour his bare chest with bruises that Stiles never wanted to disappear.

But soon Stiles’ legs were curled around Derek’s waist, his lower back pushing the emergency button again to restart the lift though neither of the couple were too interested until the doors opened on the right floor.

“Fuck Stiles…. I want you so bad….” Derek murmured into his neck as he curled his arms around Stiles’ body to keep him balanced as he carried Stiles out the lift into the corridor.

Through some miracle and after making out against the wall beside Derek’s front door for quite a while they had managed to get inside the apartment.

The rest had been a blur.

Swallowing heavily on the plane to Melbourne Stiles rubbed away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes as he stared at the darkening sky while Michael Jordan rambled away about the highlights of his career in one ear as the inside of the plane powered down for the night. Lydia had put her book on the seat between them and was curled up with the thin inflight blanket over her and her sleeping mask on since she had flown with him enough times to know Stiles’ insomnia would probably keep him awake long enough that he would start reading.

The morning after that glorious night continued to haunt him horribly even months later. Of waking up in Derek’s bed to no sign of the object of his affections beside him let alone in any other part of the apartment. Of finding a note held up against the Webby trophy on his nightstand that made it clear that as far as he was concerned nothing had happened and they should just forget it. Of that sinking feeling in his chest as his heart slipped into his stomach and he had gathered all his clothes before leaving the apartment to return to his and Lydia’s hotel room.

How Jordan had made a crack at breakfast of him getting lucky only for Lydia to nudge her boyfriend and shake her head as though she knew exactly what had happened and that Stiles didn’t need the teasing. Stiles had spent the rest of their stay after breakfast holed up in their hotel room while Lydia and Jordan did all the touristy bits without him and without Derek.

Stiles did try and text Derek a few times, asking him to at least call so they could work this out. That it did not have to change anything unless he let it. But he got no reply and even when Lydia and Jordan came back the redhead hadn’t manged to get through to him either.

Stiles had even gone round to Derek’s the morning before he was due to fly back to LA, he managed to persuade a fellow resident to let him in and made it to the right floor. He’d knocked on Derek’s door until his knuckles were bruised but even though he could hear ESPN playing a basketball match Derek didn’t come to the door. He’d left a note pushed under the door as well as sent him one last text while the plane was taxiing but had heard nothing since.

That had been close to nine months ago and every Podcast Festival or Convention since he would look for Derek in the crowd just to see if he was there. But it seemed like he was only going to ones specific to sport leaving Stiles hopelessly texting and tweeting him over and over asking about the next one he would go to on the off-chance that they could bump into each. And though it was a constant torment he did keep following Derek’s social media, seeing pictures of the owner of his heart walking along beaches shirtless, of seeing him in studios with guests and having family picnics with his sisters when they were in town. The only thing he noted was that there were no pictures of a new woman in his life and each time a fan would comment and ask, Derek seemed to either delete the comment or just straight up ignore it.

That at least did seem to reassure Stiles that what had happened between them had meant something to Derek. He just wished he could at least talk to him so he could find out what.

That had all changed three months before the run up to OZPod, when Lydia was doing some final research on a killer cult in Japan for the last episode in that series they were going to record and called out to Stiles who was trying unsuccessfully to post the second part of the series on the music publishing site.

“What is it Lyds, I��m struggling to upload the most recent episode and would prefer to get it out before the end of the day.” Stiles sighed, refreshing their music page just to check and see if it had finally been uploaded by coming up with nothing that had him returning to their portal to try again.

“Derek has just posted something on Instagram I think you should see.” Lydia said, causing Stiles to frown as he opened a fresh tab to open Derek’s Instagram page which had been saved into his favourites months ago.

The most recent picture showed a bi-pride flag draped over his webby trophy that immediately had Stiles’ heart jumping as he clicked on the picture to see the description that read.

‘DerekHale: I suppose this has been a long time coming considering how I know some of you have noticed that I’m not dating as much as I was before. So here is the long and the short of it on what is probably the best possible day to say this, I’m bisexual. I’ve been trying to ignore this side of myself for a long time by just dating who I thought was the best for me professionally, but honestly, I’ve been kidding myself for a very long time.

There’s a person out there, they know who they are, that I have used, hurt, and put our friendship on the backburner for because of how they made me feel. They made me question myself from the moment we first met, sat backstage at #lapodfest four years ago assuring them that everything was fine was the beginning of something beautiful. And though we’ve had many more downs than ups they mean the world to me.

And while I’m not sure if they will forgive me, if they will let me explain and make up the past nine months of silence to them, I just want them to know how much I have never stopped thinking about and wanting them even if I know that there is a chance they are already taken by someone else.

As for my LGBT fans out there, please believe me when I say I see you, no matter your gender, your pronouns or who you love, you are valid and I love you more than words can ever express.

Derek x

#bivisibilityday #loveislove #bipride #bipositivity #lgbtq #mlm #tfcwdPFam’

“What….?” Stiles murmured, unable to stop himself from reading Derek’s words over and over again as though part of him was sure this was a damned joke.

“Did you never for a moment think that might be why he was distancing himself from you? I could just see it in his face everytime he was around you that he was questioning himself because of you Stiles. While you never felt the real need to come out to anyone except me, Jordan and your dad….it’s harder for some people to get their head around….especially after sleeping with another guy for the first time ever.” Lydia said, from her own computer where she seemed to have taken over trying to upload the episode to give Stiles time to process what he had just read.

“No I didn’t because he was always with women, and I find it so damned to believe that someone like me could turn Derek’s head long enough for him to make him question his sexuality.” Stiles said, scrolling down to read the comments which were filled with admiration and reassurance that whoever he was talking about was so lucky to have Derek in their life. “Although what does he mean by ‘there is a chance he maybe with someone else’?”

“He probably means me.” Lydia sighed causing Stiles to turn in his chair to look at her.

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t know how or who it was, but someone seems to have convinced Derek that you and me are together and have been in all the time that we’ve been doing this podcast together.” Lydia said, meeting Stiles’ gaze over the top of her own computer.

“Oh no….nonono that’s insane! I love you like a sister…. I had a crush on you in high school that went away when you started seeing Jackson. And I mean you’re with Jordan for god’s sake!” Stiles cursed raking his fingers through his hair.

“Well obviously Derek didn’t get the memo. Anyway, if you think about it, it does explain a lot….” Lydia shrugged, attention back on her computer as Stiles turned back to staring at Derek’s post while more comments appeared from fans of Derek’s podcast.

Stiles bit his lip as he let all thoughts of him and Derek together fill his mind, of how Derek would always be touchy feely in his own discreet way when it was the two of them but move away from Stiles when Lydia was with them, how he would always insist that Stiles and Lydia sat together when they went out to eat or how Derek seemed to want to spend time alone with Stiles much more than with Lydia. How Derek had tried to pull Stiles away from Theo since he was under the misconception that Stiles was cheating on Lydia and how even during the Webby’ s show before the after party Derek had sat on the opposite side of the table to the pair. It was all blindingly obvious, that he couldn’t believe that he had missed it.

“Damnit Derek….” Stiles grumbled under his breath, barely restraining the urge to book the first flight to New York to shake some sense into Derek…sense he was sure would end up with the pair of them together again minus a stitch of clothing to the alluring breathy sounds of him fucking Derek hard enough to assure him without a shadow of a doubt that everything Derek felt for him was returned tenfold.

“He’s just sent out a tweet saying he’s going to Melbourne around Christmas for a podfest, I can get Jordan to see if we could be squeezed in if you want the chance to see him in person.” Lydia said, interrupting Stiles from his thoughts.

“That might be the best idea you’ve ever had. Now if you can get that episode to upload all with be right with the world for the next week.” Stiles said, his gaze back on Derek’s post even though deep inside he wasn’t sure he would be able to wait the three months until they were in the same place.

And yet now there he was, wide awake in a powered down plane half way through the flight, staring blankly at the screen showing Michael Jordan’s shot scenes in Space Jam as though that demonstrated just how great of an athlete he actually was.

He had wanted to contact Derek but knew until they were in the same place that there would be only words that could fix this without any action and yet it was the action that he knew they both desperately needed after how it had been since they were together in the same bed. Every night since he discovered Derek’s post he had gone back to it to see more comments of encouragement, more people claiming that whoever that person was they were sure that they missed him and were counting down the days to be back with Derek as well as a couple of people calling Stiles out for not contacting Derek for getting on to twelve months as though it was his fault. To those people Derek had kindly but firmly reiterated that it was his fault, that he had been the one to push that person away and avoided all contact from them and that while he appreciated their support if they posted those comments again they would be blocked.

And yet deep inside Stiles knew he should have tried harder to get Derek to listen to him, instead of giving in when Derek effectively cut him off. He could have camped inside his apartment until he came back, he could have used every social media outlet that they shared to keep contacting him, but he did have to admit that he knew for all his stubbornness that Derek still would have found some way or another keep him at arm’s length until he could figure things out.

Giving in at last when the narrator’s voice started to grate on his nerves, Stiles turned the documentary off and changed the channel to an easy listening radio station before picking up the book from the seat between them and settling in to start the next chapter on Paula Denyer, avoiding moving Lydia’s bookmark in the process since nothing annoyed her more.

The rest of the flight seemed to pass a lot quicker once he fell asleep halfway through reading the chapter on Ivan Milat and woke up to Lydia nudging him as their breakfast was being served by the air hostess. He ended up taking whatever one Lydia didn’t want since it all seemed to taste the same in the air anyway and downed two cups of coffee as he put his own bookmark in the form of his boarding pass to save his page before handing the book back to Lydia.

By then they were only half an hour away from Sydney and a further hour and a half from getting into Melbourne itself and Stiles settled down to watch a couple of episodes of Friends he had seen multiple times before to distract him for the remainder.

They soon arrived in Sydney to blinding sunshine through the windows and the pilot giving the usual welcome to Sydney with the weather forecast and time giving Stiles enough time to push what little he had removed from his carry on back in while removing his passport and next boarding pass for their connecting flight which thankfully gave them long enough to grab a decent coffee in duty free once they passed through security before needing to go to their next gate. Thankfully, their seats were close enough to the main entrance that it made it easy for them disembark first.

They made it through security quickly once they were in the domestic terminal and then join the queue in Starbucks, Lydia pulling out a twenty Australian dollar note from her purse while Stiles let his gaze linger on the menu trying to decide what he felt like. He finally settled on a chocolate Frappuccino and left Lydia in the queue to order after taking their combined luggage to a table outside.

He spent a while checking his social media accounts, liking a few posts from a few fellow true crime podcasters that were also going to the festival and scrolling through Derek’s Instagram page until he reached the most viewed post the other had. Up until that point he hadn’t actually liked Derek’s coming out post because he wasn’t sure if it had been intended to be seen by him or not, but now when they were about to meet he felt he should at least acknowledge it since it meant so much to Derek finally coming out.

He pressed the like button on the post and then typed the three hearts in the colours of the bisexual flag into a comment and pressed post before he changed his mind. Immediately he got a reply from Derek like he had been waiting for Stiles to comment, a heart-eyed emoji followed by a winking blowing kiss emoji with a red heart at the end along with multiple users hearting Stiles’ comment now that Derek had pretty much told them who he had been waiting for.

“You finally reacted to Derek’s post?” Lydia asked as she set his Frappuccino down in front of him before sitting down in the chair beside the one practically creaking under the weight of their carry-on luggage.

“I couldn’t not when hopefully things will finally be sorted between us. I didn’t think Derek would reply…. let alone that every one of his followers would like my comment. My alerts are going to be crazy for the next week.” Stiles sighed, turning the data off on his phone, and setting it on the table so he could focus on his drink.

“Hmmm, well I highly doubt you’ll be spending much time online when you tell Derek the truth about you and me. I’ll be lucky to get you out the hotel for our panel.” Lydia smiled knowingly with a raise eyebrow as Stiles pushed his straw into the drink.

“I doubt we’ll be that bad…. besides maybe I want him to wine and dine me first considering last time was such a disaster.” Stiles shrugged, though knew by the grin on the other’s face she didn’t believe him for a second. She knew him so well.

They spent the rest of their time talking about which serial killers to use for their three Australian killer episodes and downing their drinks before starting the walk towards their gate and sitting with the other passengers waiting to board the rest of the half hour wait.

Yet all too soon they were back on a plane, Stiles back to staring out the window though this time with a knowing smile on his lips as they got settled for the next hour and a half. Lydia immediately began to draw up pros and cons of each of the three serial killers they had chosen and became engrossed in the book again, leaving Stiles to turn on his Wi-Fi once they were in the air and see a DM alert for Instagram waiting for him in his sea of notifications.

DerekHale: I was beginning to wonder if you’d blocked me since it took you so long to react….

Stiles rolled his eyes but shook his head as he replied.

StilesStilin: I couldn’t make myself even if I wanted to….no I was just trying to prevent the onslaught of likes from your fans….so much for that now.

DerekHale: Sorry. I was just so happy to see your comment…. we’ll have to meet up when I get back in the country.

StilesStilin: Or….we could meet up when I finally set foot in Melbourne in about…..oooo an hour….

DerekHale: Wait….you’re coming to OZPod? I didn’t see it mentioned in the schedule for guests….

Stilesstilin: Well it was a last-minute decision….one my manager somehow managed to swing in record timing I might add. Besides, I thought at least this way we could meet up and clear up a few things face to face…

DerekHale: Erm, that….that sounds pretty good actually. What hotel are you staying at? I can come pick you up once you’ve checked in…

StilesStilin: Hold on a sec….

“Lyds what’s the name of the hotel Jordan booked us into? Derek wants to know so he can pick me up when we’ve checked in.” Stiles asked, Lydia barely looking up from what she was doing as she handed him her travel wallet with all the details from her bag and turned back to the book as she left Stiles to sort through the thick pile of paperwork for the right thing.

StilesStilin: QT Melbourne, 133 Russell St. I’ll let you know when we’ve arrived

DerekHale: Sounds good, I’ll see you soon x

Stiles closed the app and turned off the Wi-Fi, letting his gaze rest on the map showing the progress of the flight on the screen in front of him and tried not to count down the minutes obsessively by trying to help Lydia with the final decision on the serial killers they wanted to delve deeper into.

All too soon they were landing in Melbourne and Stiles was barely paying attention to the pilot as he grabbed his bag and led Lydia off the plane as soon as the doors were open. They made it through security and immigration quickly and made their way to the baggage claim where they had to wait longer than normal since Lydia had been hellbent on bringing double her normal luggage and the second case was at the very end of the bundle for their flight. So though he was itching to say to hell with it and leave Lydia there, he settled for putting all the luggage they currently had on a trolley and waiting for the taxi Jordan had booked at the exit of the airport which thankfully didn’t come before Lydia did.

The drive to their hotel wasn’t that far though Stiles spent most of the ride taking pictures of the scenery out the window and itching for them to get there quicker so he could message Derek that he was ready.

Soon they stopped outside a rather posh looking building that had Lydia written all over it and he had a feeling that Jordan had been talked into booking it for that very reason. After paying the driver Lydia led the way inside with Stiles bringing up the rear, as the redhead checked them in.

Since the hotel was one of those with bellboys that reminded Stiles too much of Home Alone 2, one was called to take them to their rooms when Stiles would have preferred to be just given his key and figure out how to get to his room later. But before he could object Lydia was clearing her throat and jerking her head pointedly in the direction of the main entrance, revealing Derek stood there looking as handsome and perfect as the first time they set eyes on each other.

“How?” Stiles asked the redhead as he watched Derek’s face light up from the doorway.

“I texted him on the way from the airport…. I thought it would drive you crazy if you had to wait any longer. So, here’s your key, I’ll get this gentleman to take your luggage up to your room and all being well I’ll see you both at the venue for the convention tomorrow. If you get lost just text me, but whatever you do…. don’t leave him until this is sorted ok?” Lydia said, putting Stiles' key in his hand.

“Thanks Lyds, I owe you one.” Stiles beamed, pushing the card in his hoodie pocket and pecking a kiss to her cheek after putting his bags minus his wallet and phone on the trolley before turning to Derek.

“Aren’t you a sight for jet lagged eyes.” Derek said softly, closing the gap between them and grazing his hand against Stiles’ cheek softly.

“I was just going to say the same thing. Why don’t you show me the way to your hotel just in case and we can get over those few hurdles on the way hm?" Stiles asked, Derek’s hand leaving his face to entwine with his own before leading the way out the hotel.

They had walked a few steps down the street when Stiles began the conversation that they desperately needed to have.

“So, I guess first things first…. congrats on coming out. Though you didn’t really need to.... not for me or for anyone.” Stiles said gently watching Derek’s gaze move to the floor.

“It wasn’t for you at least not completely….it was for me more than anything. Everything I put in that post was true….I had been fighting with myself to ignore who I truly was for so long that it was just getting to the point of exhausting. I’d look at you everytime we were together and all I could feel was acceptance and affection. It was something I had wanted to give myself over to but I struggled so hard to be honest about who I wanted.” Derek said brushing his thumb against Stiles’ knuckles.

“I mean I’ll let you into a secret…. not everyone knows I’m bi. It’s not something I actively tell people about because for me it’s just who I am. I like guys and girls and there is nothing wrong with that…. I just struggle to go for who I want when I find them. I mean for you it was a four-year crush before I could so much as make myself kiss you. Sure, I was drunk which might not have helped…. but that was everything I wanted then and everything that I want now more than ever.” Stiles said softly.

“And I’d be lying if I said I could remember much aside from us making out in the lift that morning….but there was something so freeing about waking up beside you and knowing that what we had done was what I wanted. But it was complicated by my own feelings, the guilt of being so sure I took advantage of you like Theo did…” Derek said thickly, the realization that Derek was sure he had forced himself on Stiles made his eyes wide and his stomach roll.

God no wonder he had been so hell bent on leaving.

“But you didn’t. I remember more than enough to know that every single part of that I wanted and needed because it was you Derek.” Stiles soothed, even as Derek swallowed and shook his head.

“But Theo….” Derek began only for Stiles to sigh and shake his head

“No, you are not Theo. Theo was jumped up little upstart who wanted what he could get so it would help his career in the future. You, god Derek…you are nothing like him. Not to mention the whole time I was kissing Theo and letting him fuck me I was thinking of you. If I hadn’t had you on my mind I’m sure without a shadow of a doubt that I would not have let him so much as touch me.” Stiles said, earning a sad smile from Derek.

“What did Lydia say when she found out about you and Theo?" Derek asked causing Stiles shake his head and laugh.

“Another thing we need to clear up Derek, me and Lydia aren’t together together. She’s been one of my closest friends since high school who agreed to do me a solid with a podcast that ended up bonding us and while I had a crush on her it didn’t last long and meant nothing. Besides she’s taken to dating our manager for the past two years….so even if I was interested which I’m not I wouldn’t have a chance anyway. So, I don’t know who told you that but it isn’t true.” Stiles said watching Derek’s ears flush red.

“It was Kate, though looking back she might have done that on purpose to make sure my attention was on her. It definitely explains a lot and makes me wonder why I didn’t just ask you sooner…” Derek said thoughtfully.

“I suppose that does make sense; she really was a possessive little bitch. Still at least you know the truth now.” Stiles smiled, as they finally appeared outside a hotel that looked way more expensive than anything, he could afford even after ransacking their Patreon savings. “Damn Derek…”

“It’s quite something isn’t it? My assistant Braeden picked it at random when she was doing the bookings for this trip. Still the outside pales in comparison to the inside…” Derek smiled, leading Stiles through the foyer towards the lift.

“How about compared to your room…?” Stiles asked, watching a shy twinkle appear in the other’s eyes.

“My room is amazing in itself, but I’m sure without a shadow of a doubt that it would be all the better if you were sharing it with me.” Derek murmured, grazing Stiles’ cheek with his free hand before cupping the back of his neck and kissing Stiles deeply.

It wasn’t filled with the same drunken urgent hunger that their first one was, it was sweet and yet filled with a sense of adoration that had Stiles practically melting into it. Letting Derek take the lead and suck at his bottom lip gently enough to part them before deepening it just a little more with Derek’s tongue grazing against his own.

“Um….you know if you’re going to come up with smooth lines and kisses like those every damn time I get an invitation like that then I think I can easily agree….” Stiles murmured when they parted far enough for their foreheads to rest together.

“You sure….? I don’t want to rush things this time Stiles…. I don’t want it to be like it was before all wham bam thank you mam get the fuck out my bed. I want you to devour you sober, to know what you like and how your body reacts with each touch. So, if you aren’t ready….” Derek said huskily.

“Derek Derek Derek….it’s been twelve months since I last set eyes let alone tasted your gorgeous body so there is no doubt in my mind that I’m ready. But I think that this time…. after that morning after I think I deserve a turn don’t you?" Stiles purred, the doors opening and him tugging Derek inside so he could press the right button.

“Oh really? What do you have in mind?” Derek asked, pressing the ninth-floor button without looking, his whole attention fixated on Stiles.

“Oh, I don’t know, your whole gloriously naked hot body on display for my attention only and willing to give in to any whim that I want. After all…. you may have got to fuck me Derek…..but I haven’t had the complete joy of showing you how amazing it can feel on the receiving end just yet.” Stiles smiled flirtatiously, biting his bottom lip as he backed into a corner of the lift and curled his arms around Derek’s neck to pull him with him.

“I thought I was supposed to be making it up to you, that hardly seems fair…” Derek murmured, brushing his lips teasingly against Stiles’ as his hands rested on Stiles’ hips.

“Oh, but you will be. Trust me?” Stiles whispered, letting one hand move from Derek’s neck and tracing down the length of his back until his fingers grazed down between Derek’s denim clad ass cheeks causing the taller to groan in the back of his throat.

“I can’t imagine doing anything else….” Derek said hoarsely, letting Stiles’ lips capture his own as the youngers hand slid inside his jeans and boxers and dug his nails into the bare skin of his ass willingly just as the doors opened on the correct floor.

Stiles directed Derek out the lift their mouths still moving hungrily together, until Derek was pushed up against the wall opposite the lift so the doors could close. Their mouths parted as Derek arched his back against the wall at the tightening grip Stiles had on his ass and how Stiles’ mouth moved from his own despite his whimper of objection to sucking bruises into his neck.

“Which room is yours?" Stiles asked, as the tip of his index finger grazed against Derek’s taint causing him to curse and his hips to jerk against Stiles’ at the sensation.

“Erm….Fuck Stiles….” Derek cursed, Stiles taking pity on him enough to remove one hand to take the key card from Derek’s pocket.

“Room 903…. which is right here…..” Stiles crooned, catching Derek’s mouth again in a dirty kiss as he guided him across the corridor to the right door. “Um…. you gonna open the door for me Der? Sooner we get in there sooner I can make you feel even better.”

Derek cursed again as he panted hungrily against Stiles’ mouth reluctantly letting go of Stiles’ hip long enough to take the key from Stiles and swipe it as the younger ground his cock against his own teasingly. Once the door was opened Stiles smiled at him wickedly and captured Derek’s lips again with his own as he pushed away from the wall and let Derek back him into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

The next morning the pair arrived at the convention a little later than initially planned, though that was in no small part due to Stiles getting distracted by Derek’s naked body in the shower at least twice and being unable to help himself from indulging in the body that he had worshipped that night before. It was more than obvious to everyone around them why they were late, if not due to the fact that Stiles was wearing some of Derek’s clothes that were ridiculously big on him or because of the bruises covering Derek’s neck and how his attention seemed fixated on Stiles then by the way they were holding hands as they wove their way through the crowd with Derek’s assistant Braeden who was no doubt going to give Derek a talking to for being late.

“Stiles there you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming or that was I was going to have to send Jordan to Derek’s hotel to get you.” Lydia huffed, appearing from the crowd with Jordan behind her.

“Sorry Lyds, we got a bit distracted or else we would have been here earlier.” Stiles smiled, the innuendo causing Derek’s ears to go read and Braeden to roll her eyes.

“Hm, I’m sure. Anyway, we’re up next, I’ve managed to get together enough information on Paula Deyer but we might need to do a bit of comparison with a few other well-knowns to stretch it out a little.” Lydia said, letting Stiles take the script she was holding in his free hand and give it a look through as Derek let go of his hand and curled his arms around his waist instead, letting his lips rest against the nape of Stiles’ neck as he looked the script over too.

“I think I might have a few more books on Australian serial killers I can loan you when we’re back in the states if that would help…” Derek said gently into Stiles’ skin causing a shiver down Stiles’ spine even as he looked over his shoulder at his other half.

“Really? I didn’t know that was something you were interested in Der…” Stiles asked, turning the page on the script.

“Not so much….but since I knew it was what you were going to be looking into next I asked a few old friends in the true crime genre who gave me some recommendations.” Derek shrugged, one hand sliding under the hemline of Stiles’ shirt only for Stiles catch it by lacing the fingers of his free hand with Derek’s to stop it venturing any further.

“We’d appreciate any help we can get…” Stiles said out loud, before raking his fingers through Derek’s hair and pulling his ear closer towards his mouth before murmuring. “Not now Der…but I swear as soon as this is over you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Um, I’m planning it right now as we speak.” Derek grinned into the side of his neck before letting Stiles go and watching him follow Lydia up on to the stage.

Stiles met his gaze before he disappeared through the curtains and winked at him knowingly before the sound of the Talk Murder to Me Theme song blared over the PA accompanied by the sound of fans screaming in welcome and closely followed by Stiles’ Melodious voice welcoming the crowd and doing the usual introduction that Derek had heard so many times before. Though never had it made his heart soar more than to know that the man on the other side of that curtain was and would always be his if he had anything to say about it.

Fin.

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

TPart 26: Nowhere to Hide

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Word count: 1286

I finally got to write a dramatic warehouse interrogation 😈. Trigger Warning for violence!

"Warden Sharpe." The hood was yanked off of the older man's face, and he looked around the room, blinking blearily as he tried to get his bearings. Gradually, the dingy room came into focus; he appeared to be in a warehouse.

Not an abandoned one either, judging by the crates stacked against the far wall, although he could sense the open space behind him. Standing facing him, partially obscured in the shadows of the poorly lit area were the three armed thugs that had abducted him from his car, but the voice that spoke had come from behind him.

Sharpe would have recognized that voice anywhere, but even so, when the tall, thin frame of Arkham's former ambassador came into view there was no stopping the chill that traveled down his spine. Crane had made quite a reputation for himself in the last two weeks. The warden knew what the younger man wanted, but he couldn't give it to him.

"Crane, listen to me, I don't know where she is." Jonathan's eyes narrowed as he rubbed the material of his mask between his thumb and forefinger. He was working hard to keep Scarecrow at bay, but holding the mask served as a remarkably effective interrogation tactic.

"I wish I believed you, Warden. See, I made a list of everyone most likely to have the information that I need, and you're the last name on that list. So, if you can't give me what I'm looking for, then what does that mean for Gotham?" The older man began to sweat, the true magnitude of his situation suddenly settling on his shoulders.

"Believe me, if I knew where she was I would tell you! Wh-when you started all of this I looked, but no one knows what happened to her! I think maybe she's—" Sharpe cut his rambling off quickly; the madman in front of him didn't want to hear about the likelihood of Elianna Montgomery's death.

His fragmented sentence hadn't gone unnoticed, however. The ex-psychiatrist's head snapped to face his captive, and those piercing, too-blue eyes seemed to stare into his soul.

"Maybe she's what, Warden?" The voice had become too calm, a sharp contrast to the fury rolling off of its owner in waves. The man tied to the chair found himself unable to respond. "Maybe she's dead? Buried in an unmarked grave somewhere?" Just like that, any previous notions the warden had of escaping this encounter with his psyche intact were erased, vanishing just as quickly as his captor's sadistic alter had appeared.

"No!"

"Then by all means," Sharpe had always found Crane's lack of expression unnerving, but as the Scarecrow smiled with Jonathan's face, he realized that this was worse, so much worse. "Tell us. Maybe. She's. What?" Scarecrow's free hand shot out to grab the warden's face as he snarled out the last word. Sharpe couldn't help the frightened whimper that escaped as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm s-sure that she's alive somewhere," the words struggled out, his voice further betraying the fear that he felt. "I just don't know where." That wicked smile returned to the bespectacled man's face.

"You're a terrible liar, Warden." The older man's heart sunk as the glasses were removed, tucked into the breast pocket of Jonathan's suit. He knew what that meant. "Not about her whereabouts. No. The fact is that you're not sure she's alive somewhere. And the only thing I hate more than being lied to for selfish reasons, is being lied to in a feeble attempt to save Jon's feelings."

With that, Scarecrow secured his face, breathing in deep the scent of the burlap. He had gotten to wear it more and more often lately, and the feeling of the scratchy material against his cheeks was so...liberating.

The warden was struggling against his bindings now, a futile attempt to escape. Even if Aleksi hadn't been raised on his father's boat, Sharpe wouldn't have made it more than two steps before being hit with a facefull of toxin anyway.

Jonathan had sent their help to his apartment in the confusion of the city rebuilding itself for his equipment and notes. Once he had everything that he needed, he had been able to make more toxin from what they already had. His growing need to find El had motivated him to construct a way to make more, although Scarecrow couldn't be bothered to even try wrapping his head around it.

All that mattered was that it worked beautifully.

Warden Sharpe's efforts to release himself redoubled as the Scarecrow rolled his neck in preparation for what was coming next, bargaining with the madman to no avail.

"No, don't do this! You don't have to do this, if you let me go I can look again! I have resources, I-I'm sure I could find her for you!" Scarecrow's rasping laugh echoed around the spacious room. "Please, I have friends I can ask! I swear, if you let me go I'll find her!"

"Warden, any friends you may have who can help me will get the message when you're found by the workmen here at the beginning of the next shift." Scarecrow's head cocked as though he were listening to something, but the eyes behind the mask remained blank as ever. "Jon wants you to know, you never should have been in charge anyway. A man like you? No ambition? It was only a matter of time before your inmates got the better of you anyway. Better to get a little fame out of it, don't you think?"

The warden surprised himself by how long he had lasted in this interaction without breaking, but the knowledge that there was no bargaining for his fate had finally broken him. Thrashing and crying out for help, he watched in horror as Scarecrow took a step back from him, vaguely aware of the goons securing gas masks over their faces.

With nothing left to discuss, Scarecrow threw out his arm in the direction of the now ex-warden of Arkham Asylum, taking sick pleasure in the hissing sound of the sleeve rig releasing a stream of the aerosolized form of fear toxin to form a thick cloud around Sharpe's head. The older man, in a last-ditch effort to think his way out of the situation, held his breath, desperate not to breathe it in.

This angered Scarecrow, who turned to face his goons, gesturing to one of them. The shortest of the three stepped closer, face invisible behind his gas mask, gun in hand. Before the older man could ponder what this meant for him as his lungs began to beg for air, the goon closed the distance between them and slammed him in the gut with the butt of his rifle, winding him.

On instinct, Sharpe began gasping for breath, coughing on the big gulps of the toxin entering his mouth and lungs. He swore internally, wondering what had given him the mad idea that holding his breath would work.

"You'd be surprised by how many people think to try that," Scarecrow chuckled darkly, relishing the visible symptoms of the gas beginning to take effect. "Don't worry, someone will be along soon. For now, enjoy the darkness, warden. And hope, for Gotham's sake, that we find her alive and well." As he spoke, Axel, Aleksi, and Sam set about shutting the dingy lights off.

Sharpe's watched as the four men disappeared through a door to his far left. The soft light of dawn seemed too horribly bright to his toxin-addled brain, and the last thing he saw before the door closed and he was plunged into blackness was the creeping tendrils of darkness closing in on him.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

For this lil thing💅

“The city looks different at night.” or “Oh you poor soul, wandering lost in the forest under the new moon…”  whitch ever you're more comfortable with🤩

“A camping trip?” Lu Mingfei couldn’t believe his ears. It was hardly something that he expected to come up in the freezing cold of Chicago winter. Even sitting down and eating in the cafeteria, he could hear the wind whistling through the gaps in the doors so clearly, he shivered in spite of himself. “Have you completely lost it?”

Chu Zihang simply held up a travel magazine and pointed to the brilliant photo of the northern lights strafing across the sky. “I’ve always wanted to see the Aurora Borealis. I have an assignment there anyway. You won’t have to worry about that, though.”

“Oh really?” Doubt filled his face. Whenever his ‘senior brother’ was involved, there was always death, danger, mayhem and a lifetime’s worth of trauma.

He nodded once. “It’s not even an A ranked mission.”

Lu Mingfei sighed. But then he turned and looked at him again.

He remembered that Chu Zihang was always alone. He never asked to do things with other people. And yet, they had managed to become easy friends over the years. He didn’t have that relationship with any others. 

Zihang was asking him to go with him because he didn’t have anyone else to ask.

“Fine. But you promise I won’t end up at the bottom of some hellhole fighting for my life?”

“The likelihood of that is slim.”

“But it’s not zero?”

“You want a guarantee?” Zihang nodded once and turned back to his meal. “No matter what, I promise I won’t call you if there’s danger.”

Lu Mingfei’s heart suddenly leaped into his throat. But it was too late to go back now. 

That weekend they packed up and were on a plane to Alaska. They sat next to each other on the long flight.

“So… what’s so special about the Aurora that makes you want to go see it so bad?”

Chu Zihang gazed out the window at the mounds of white clouds outside. He had his contacts in and a simple cap, looking just like a normal tourist. “Legend has it that if you see the Aurora, your wish for true love will come true.”

“Say what.” Lu Mingfei rounded on him. “Is that what you want? A wish for true love?”

Chu Zihang turned and looked at him directly. “No. It’s for you.”

Lu Mingfei groaned so loudly other passengers turned to look. Zihang’s gaze followed his hanging head. “Dude… you’re killing me right now. True murder with words. Is my situation so hopeless that we have to resort to superstitions?”

“Many superstitions are rooted in the truth about dragons. I’ve done my research about this place. There was an assignment nearby. We’re to search and look for dragonblood species in the area.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a laminated map, while Lu Mingfei looked at him, pleading for mercy.

But no mercy would be given. Pointing to the map, he explained. “There’s an extinct volcano nearby that showed elemental activity of a strange type. EVA wanted to assign others there for a simple survey but I thought of this as an opportunity.”

“Thank you for thinking of me.” Lu Mingfei moaned, helpless.

“You’re welcome.”

The world at the campsite was completely frozen. The soil stayed frozen as a layer of permafrost, on top of that, layers of snow had frozen and refrozen until the landscape was nothing but flat-white. The wind picked up fine icy particles and blew them about like sand on the worst beach. Mingfei inwardly cursed his brother’s care and generosity as he trudged across the forsaken landscape.

Mingfei was the one who was lonely. But he was not so desperately lonely that he wanted to be here. Why did Chu Zihang wish so badly for him to find a girl? Of course, if the scheme worked, he wouldn’t be ungrateful.

“This is the site.” Chu Zihang had stopped in the shelter of a boulder the size of a house that faced a dark forest of snow covered pine. It was adequate shelter from the wind and he began to set up camp. “As I said before,” He explained once the tent was set up. “You don’t have to do anything while I work.”

“Oh sure… I’ll just lay here and think of my dream girl while staring up and waiting for the aurora.”

Chu Zihang nodded once and shouldered a large pack and his sword case. His boots crunching in the snow started to grow distant and Lu Mingfei suddenly sat up from his sleeping bag. “What about bears? Or wolves?!” He shouted.

Zihang didn’t even look back, disappearing into the woods. “There’s a gun in your tent. Just shoot them, you’re good at that.”

Hunting for dragonblood subspecies wasn’t exactly difficult. Anyone with high enough dragonblood naturally attracted them. Chu Zihang set down his pack and the long satchel that held his sword. He drew the silver blade across his arm and held it out, letting the crimson liquid trickle down, spattering into the snow. Then he took a bandage, wrapped it and walked a distance away to wait.

He wrapped his face in a thick wool cover to hide his breath and melded into the deep silence of the tundra woods. He closed his eyes to listen for any sign of movement. He concentrated deeply on every sense until he noticed a small sound. When he opened his eyes, he saw what appeared to be the shadow of a deer, standing over the blood.

It was a stag with a crown of majestic antlers arcing over its head. It lowered its head down, sniffed at the blood-stained snow, and then slipped out a tongue to lick it.

Every muscle in Chu Zihang’s body was like a coiled spring. His eyes calculated the distance between himself and his prey. He could span it in an instant. He just needed a moment for the deer to turn around, get distracted by something.

“Oh you poor soul, wandering lost in the forest under the new moon…”

The voice was like an arrow through his brain that shot down his spine like lightning and he gasped despite himself. Still, he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt frozen. The voice was there as though she were standing right in front of him.

But it was the deer who turned its head and looked at him before snorting as though laughing and trotting away.

Chu Zihang stood and moved to where the creature had been. It was still within view, a distance away, looking at him from between the trees. It’s eyes glowed red before bounding away, leaving her laughter in its wake.

Chu Zihang took off after it, desperation quickening his breath. He couldn’t see it. Where was it? Where?

The ground suddenly disappeared out from under him. He spun in mid air and grasped the edge of the drop off with one hand. Below him, the snow dislodged by his boots fell into the dark water of a lake.

Despite the frigid temperature, the lake was unfrozen, a testament to the geothermal heat below. The lake was completely glassy and like a mirror reflected the mountains, the tree and the starry sky in a perfect image.

Far below, the deer stared back at him from the surface of the water before turning and walking away -- walking down into the water -- without leaving so much as a ripple.

At that moment, the surface of the lake burst into bright colors. It was an Aurora, but it was not reflected in the sky. No, it wasn’t a lake. It was another sky. It was a Nibelungen!

Chu Zihang let go of the cliff he was clinging to and plummeted towards the surface below. He fell through the lake but never got wet, instead, coming through on the other side into a swirl of color. The colors then retracted, fading into the distance. He was suspended, right side up in complete darkness as though he had stepped off the edge of the world.

There, waiting for him, was not a deer, but a familiar set of black hair and black eyes. He hadn’t seen them in a long time. The memory gave him pause but in the next instant his emotion drove her name from his lips. 

“Xia Mi?”

That laugh, music to his ears, echoed like running water in a cave. “You’re still calling me by that name? Did you get stupid while I was gone?”

“How…? You… were…”

“Dead?” She finished the sentence for him. “It’s weird. I don't know how I ended up here either. My brother… he’s dead… I… I can’t find him.” Her eyes lowered.

She stood before him, completely naked, her hair so long it fell like dark fabric on the invisible surface they stood on. Stars gittered beneath their feet. The Aurora danced in the background like green tongues of fire. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

She raised her eyes. “Can we start over? Like we did before?” She reached out to him but he leaned away from her. “Don’t worry. I won’t erase your memory again. I don’t want to.”

“Without your brother, you can’t turn into Hela....” Zihang began but then he stopped speaking abruptly.

“But that doesn’t change who I am. Is that what you want to say?” She lowered her hand to her side. “Is there really no way?”

Zihang stared at her, remembering the last time he saw her, just like this, right before she raised her claws to plunge them into his heart. If she drew close, would it happen again? This time he didn’t have Anjou’s dagger to save him. But salvation was never his aim anyway. He couldn’t let her become Hela, but he remembered the feeling that his own death would be okay. Even as her spines pierced his body, he never let her go.

He was okay with dying with her then. Ever since then, her memory had haunted him. As he looked at her now, he wondered if it had been her calling for him all along. But he couldn’t die now. Lu Mingfei was out in the snow alone.

As the silence wore on, Xia Mi’s eyes glittered with intense sadness. She seemed on the verge of tears, a sob escaping her throat. She covered her face with her hands for a moment. Then, she gathered herself, taking a few breaths. “Do you want me to apologize? What do you want me to say? You understood me when I talked to you. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want it to happen that way! I tried to stop you! But you’re just too… stubborn and smart and…” She hung her head and laughed, her dark hair falling like a thin veil.

“Fine… I finally found you and you refuse. It’s just like I said right?” She raised one hand and flipped her hair out of her face. “Just because a guy goes out of his way for a girl doesn’t mean she has to accept.”

A bright light suddenly illuminated her face and the tears tracking down them. Zihang turned to look at a bright square of light that appeared like a gate behind him. “Go on then. Go. Don’t think about me any more.”

Chu Zihang turned back to her.

“Did I stutter or something?” She wiped her face with the back of her arm. “Stop staring at me like a dumb cow and go! It’s not like you’ve never seen a girl cry before.”

Zihang shook his head slowly and walked forward.

She snorted. “What? Are you changing your mind? Or are you going to kill me again?” She grinned through her tears as he grew closer. “Fine… fine… it’s better to be dead anyway.”  

She held out her hand to him, to embrace him, just like before. “At least when you do it this time make sure it-”

Zihang stopped her words, kissing her. Her eyes flew open in shock. She always imagined that his lips would be soft, but the combination of the softness and the warmth made her shiver. She was too stunned to move and stood quiet when he pulled away, softly dragging her lips after his as he parted.  He took her still outstretched hand and his fingers twined around hers. “Let’s go.”

She gasped, the light of the portal now shining on her pure joy.

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai chapter 10

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 5056

Chapter notes: I am so, so sorry for the pain I’m about to inflict on you. Please see notes at the end.

*****

You’d been numb all day; exhausted from lack of sleep. After you’d first gotten your tattoo, you’d been unable to fully process the name. How was it possible that Jungkook was your soulmate and you’d never known? It hadn’t seemed possible at first, but you’d known each other your entire lives, any pull you would have felt would have been when you were a baby.

What made everything feel so much worse was the fact that Jungkook had admitted to being attracted to your sister. Sure, they weren’t dating, and sure, he’d told Ella he didn’t feel comfortable dating with his new soulmate tattoo, but he sure hadn’t bothered to tell you his soulmate was you!

He’d known for an entire month and he hadn’t said a word. It felt like such a slap in the face. He must have just been laughing it up thinking about what an idiot you were for not knowing, how shocked you’d be when you found out. You felt sick, head spinning. All this time you’d thought the two of you were becoming friends, too. He must think you’re such a joke.

Your mom had tried to come in hours ago, probably excited to see your tattoo, but you’d just pretended to be asleep, arm pinned under your torso to keep her snooping eyes away. You couldn’t face her right now; you couldn’t even get up to use the toilet or eat food.

You were prepared to spend the entire weekend in bed, if necessary. A small knock at your door caught your attention, but you stayed silent, hoping they would go away. It was late in the afternoon by now, nearing 4pm already and you knew your family was probably wondering what you were doing. The last time you’d laid in bed this late was when your pet gold fish Max had met his end and you’d had to flush him yourself.

“Y/N?” Your sisters voice called from the other side of the door, soft and tentative, pushing the door in slightly. Her eyes caught yours and she smiled slightly, pushing the door closed behind her. “Are you OK? Are you sick?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Is it the tattoo? Does it hurt that badly?”

“I don’t really want to talk about the tattoo.” You frowned and Ella shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around the room.

“Are you hungry? I can bring you some food or something.”

“I’m not really hungry right now.” You mumbled, starring down at your sheet, an old flowery design that was faded with age. You should really ask your mom for a new one.

“Well, you should at least eat something. It’s almost dinner time and you haven’t had anything. Mom’s kind of worried.”

You sighed, flipping onto your back. “Sure, you can bring something up, I guess. I can’t guarantee I’ll eat it, though.”

“Well, as long as she sees me bring something up, I think she’ll leave you alone. For now, at least.”

Ella disappeared downstairs for a while, presumably grabbing food and you took a moment to raise your arm above your head, just to check and see if the tattoo really was there.

Jeon Jungkook

Just like you’d seen early this morning, messy scrawl, as though it had been written in his own hand, and somehow you felt like perhaps that was the case. The universe was cruel in that way.

Ella brought up a tray with some food a few minutes later, setting it on your bedside table and took a seat at the end of your bed. “Did you want to watch a movie later? Maybe it’ll help you feel better. A movie helps distract me when I’m sick.”

You looked over at her, shaking your head softly. “Honestly, I’ll probably just stay in bed the whole weekend. Sleep it off or whatever.” 

“What a lousy way to spend the day of your birthday.” Ella smiled, trying to cheer you up. You appreciated her efforts, even if they fell flat right now.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, grabbing a roll from the tray and taking a big bite. Maybe having some food in your stomach would help you to fall back asleep.

“Well,” Ella mumbled, picking at the fraying edges of your blanket as you looked over at her, through puffy eyes. “I can go now…if that’s what you want. Or I could stay and we could talk or something?”

You stared down at the rest of your food, pushing your fork through it absentmindedly. If Ella stayed, she’d likely end up talking about Jungkook and you really couldn’t stomach that right now. “Honestly, I’m just gonna sleep some more, not feeling so great. Thank you, though, Ella.” You smiled softly over at her and she nodded, standing.

“Of course. I hope you feel better soon. I’ll try and keep mom and dad away, but you know how they are.”

You nodded, picking off a small piece of your roll and chewing on it. You probably should have taken her up on the offer of distraction, your thoughts were terrifying right now, but the likelihood of conversation topics veering into what you were trying to ignore was too high so instead you pulled out your phone and decided a YouTube binge was exactly what you needed.

*****

By the time Monday had rolled around you’d gone from denial straight into anger. Jungkook had some nerve keeping this from you; acting like everything was normal and that you weren’t destined to be part of each other’s lives forever.

He had some nerve liking your sister and treating you like just a friend. Less than, even. You couldn’t believe you’d fallen for it all…his lies. You even wondered idly if Ella knew. You wanted to cry from the shame of it, but you refused. Rage was what fueled you right now. 

You hadn’t seen him all morning but you were glad about that, it wouldn’t have been possible to keep yourself in check if you had. Your friends had remarked on your mood, of course, but you’d brushed them off, telling them you’d explain later.  

By the time lunch had rolled around, your blood was practically boiling. How could he not tell you? You could see your friends waving you over to their table once you’d entered the cafeteria, but your eyes had gravitated and remained stuck fast on Jungkook. 

He hadn’t seen you yet, sitting and laughing with friends at his own table, Ella beside him. Before you could stop yourself, you were stomping over towards him. You could see the shared looks of confusion on your friends faces as you marched away from their table, but you couldn’t think about that now.

You needed to talk to Jungkook. Needed to know why he’d lied; why he hadn’t said anything. The table stilled as you stormed up beside them and Jungkook and Ella both looked at you, Ella smiling, a small hello as greeting. You stared at Jungkook, though. He was the only person you wanted to talk to right now.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiled timidly up at you, and before he could stop you, before anyone even realized what you were doing, you wrenched the sleeve from his arm revealing the name of his soulmate. Your name. Jungkook tried in vain to cover it up, looking up at you pitifully as he pulled his sleeve tight around his wrist again but it was too late, they’d all seen it.

You held up your own wrist, pulling your sleeve down for everyone to see the name burned into your own wrist. He looked at you with the kind of guilty expression you’d never thought he could muster, cheeks heated and lips downturned. 

“This is honestly the cruelest thing you’ve ever done to me.” You whispered, “You knew! You knew that we were soulmates and you liked my sister anyway. I hate you; I honestly hate you. I’d rather be soulmates with anyone but you.”

“Wait, Y/N!” Jungkook shouted, standing up quickly, nearly toppling Ella over on his way to chase after your retreating form. You could see the look of hurt on Ella’s face and instantly felt guilty. Of course, she hadn’t known. You had hidden the name from everyone until you could get to him. Jungkook himself had hidden your name from view, even from you, so of course she would not have known that the very man of her desires was destined for you. 

Once you’d made it around the corner you broke into a sprint, hoping to escape him but he was much faster than you. A hand wrapping around your bicep pulled you back and you grunted in protest, trying to push against him as he backed you into a wall, holding you in place with his own body. 

You hated him. You hated his dark hair, his dark eyes, chiseled jaw, and the stupid little scar on his cheek, his muscular body, and most of all you hated the look of intense guilt you could see written all over his face. As though he’d broken your heart, and really, he might have if the writhing muscle under your left breast had anything to say about it. 

“Let me go!” You snapped, trying to kick your way free but Jungkook only caged you in further. “You’re a jerk. You knew this whole time and you didn’t say a thing. It must have been so disappointing for you to have my name show up on your wrist, someone so damn average, right? Anyone in the world could have shown up, why’d it have to be me, right? Why not Ella, she’s at least better than her plain and boring older sister.”

“Why does it matter to you anyway?” Jungkook snapped and you blinked up at him in surprise. “You’ve always hated me. Did you ever think maybe I was doing you a favor?”

“A favor?” You scoffed, “by pursuing my sister while I was none the wiser that my name was on your wrist!”

“Everyone knows you don’t have to be with your soulmate.” Jungkook sneered, “It’s not like we’re forced to be together, you know? No one ever said we had to choose each other.”

“So, you’re choosing my sister then?” You barked.

Jungkook sighed loudly, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m choosing, Y/N. I’m 18 years old, how the hell can you expect me to know what I want right now? Maybe I don’t want a soulmate.”

You wished you could say that, that confession didn’t hurt, that your heart didn’t feel like it was splintering in two. But you couldn’t. “What about me, then?” You choked. You couldn’t even find it in you to fake being unaffected. 

You watched Jungkook’s face twist, looking down at the ground and you couldn’t help the gargled laugh that escaped your lips. “Fine.” You spat, “go ahead and pretend that I don’t exist, that my name isn’t imprinted on your body forever, but don’t come crying to me when you change your mind. The universe must have royally screwed this one up because there’s no way you could ever make me happy when all you’ve ever done is make me miserable.”

By now the tears were streaming down your face and you pushed angrily against him to make him move but he stayed firmly in place and you sobbed loudly. “Get off of me!” You shouted, “The least you could do is let me cry in peace.”

Instead of releasing you, Jungkook wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your head into his chest and resting his chin on the crown of your head. He held you as you wrestled against him, trying to gain freedom before giving up and simply crying. Crying because you hated him. Crying because you still couldn’t believe it was him. Because in a part of you that you didn’t want to acknowledge, this hurt so deeply because you’d actually been willing to try for him. Why wasn’t he willing to try for you?

As the tears began to subside, you felt his cheek press against the top of your head and you sniffled, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. His arms had loosened around you so you pulled back from him, wiping away your tears. He looked down at you, frown marring his handsome features, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Please don’t talk to me anymore.” You mumbled, turning to walk away from him.

“Y/n!” He called out and you turned around to look at him. You couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry anymore. You were just so tired. 

“I’m serious Jungkook,” you said, “please don’t talk to me ever again. You don’t want a soulmate? Wish granted.” You pulled your coat tightly around your body as you turned away and walked back into the school.

*****

You wished people wouldn’t stare. Then again, you understood. This kind of thing wasn’t all that common, in fact, aside from hearing about the occasional case in the gossip section of the newspaper, people had probably never heard of this sort of thing before. 

They stared because they were curious and you were suddenly alien. The undeniable urge to sink into the floor nearly overwhelmed you and you darted into the bathroom, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your phone to call your mom. 

After the 4th ring you were beginning to lose hope in her answering, she was at work after all. Just as you were about to hang up, the other end connected and you held your breath, suddenly overcome with emotion.

  “Y/n?” Your mother asked from the end of the line and you willed the tears to stay back.

“Mom,” you said shakily, brushing away a tear that escaped down your cheek, “I really need you to come pick me up.”

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you hurt?” You could hear shuffling in the background, papers rustling and you felt guilty. She was probably busy, but you really needed her right now. 

“Please come pick me up.” You croaked; voice heavy with emotion when you suddenly couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. “Everything is wrong, I feel like my soul has been crushed and I just really need you to come pick me up. Please.”

“Honey,” Your mother breathed and you could hear the frown in her voice, “Honey, of course but please tell me what’s going on.”

“Jungkook,” you cried and you could hear your mother grabbing her car keys from her desk and making her way out of her office.

“Jungkook?” She asked in confusion. 

“H-he wasn’t even willing to try.” You sobbed, sliding down the tile of the bathroom wall and bringing your knees up to your chin, “why is this happening to me?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand what this is about. What was Jungkook not willing to try?” The sound of the engine starting in the background soothed you a little. Just a few more minutes and you could be on your way to the sanctity of your bed. 

“Anything,” you cried quietly, “he wasn’t willing to try anything.”

“Look, honey, I’m going to be there in just a few minutes. Wait for me by the front office and I’ll come get you. You can explain everything to me on the way home.”

“OK.” You whimpered softly. After ending the call and staring at the floor for a moment you stood, making your way back out the door and towards the front of the school. Everyone was back in class by now, lunch long over. 

The halls were quiet, no one walking around with hall passes and lame excuses of needing to go to the bathroom. It was a double-edged sword, really. No one to stare at you and whisper…but then no noise to distract you from your thoughts. The silence itself was deafening. 

After your mother had signed you out and led you to the car, you sat, clinging desperately to your seatbelt across your chest. You were afraid of the silence, but then, maybe it would have been better than-

“So, what’s going on?” Your mother asked gently and you closed your eyes, hands trembling as you pulled back the sleeve of your shirt to reveal your tattoo. 

Holding it out for your mother to see, she took one look and a shudder of realization later, “Oh.” She murmured, exhale sharp. Your bottom lip trembled, hand falling back into your lap as you stared out the window, unable to look at the pain etched so visibly into the lines of your mother’s face. 

“Oh,” she repeated, stronger still as pieces began to fall into place. Jungkook had known for a month. He had continued to show interest in Ella. Jungkook had said no. It was all too much and you began to cry again. 

“I never even liked the idea of soulmates, so why does this hurt so much?” You wailed, “It feels like he punched a hole through my heart.”

“Oh honey,” your mother sighed and you could see from the corner of your eye that she was crying too. “Maybe he just needs time to think; this is a big adjustment. You guys have been friends for so long, this is a lot to get used to.”

“We haven’t been friends since we were little kids, mom,” you murmured, “I just didn’t want to make you sad.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing at you as she pulled into the garage and put the car in park. 

“Jungkook kind of bullies me. Not, like, bad or anything, just rude remarks, hair pulling, that sort of thing. We just fake it in front of you and his mom because you two are such good friends. Honestly, I hate being around him…well, I did until about a month ago, now he’s been halfway decent. Despite all that, though, I was still willing to try.” You said softly, fresh tears escaping down your cheeks and you wiped at them angrily. “That’s what makes this hurt even more. Not only did he know before me and still continue to like my sister, but even after confronting him and feeling hurt and angry, I was still willing to try and see if we could make the soulmate thing work but…but he wasn’t. He just made up some lame excuse about how he doesn’t know what he wants or if he even wants a soulmate.”

“Y/N.” Your mother murmured and you shook your head, unbuckling your seatbelt with shaky fingers and blurry eyes. 

“I just want to be alone right now.”

Climbing out of the car, you made your way to your bedroom, flinging yourself under the covers of your bed and crying yourself to sleep.

****

As the moon began to rise you laid flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling and running your fingers absentmindedly across your wrist. It still ached just a little from when it had first imprinted; just a constant reminder to you of what disarray your life was in. 

You could hear the whispered voices of your parents from the living room. You tried not to listen but it was hard not to hear. 

“You didn’t know?” your dad asked softly.

“No of course not, you know how private she is. I don’t think anyone knew but the two of them.”

“Does Jieun know?”

You could hear your mothers sigh as she thought about her best friend. “I called her after I found out. She didn’t know. Jungkook; he bottles everything up.”

“How can you be so patient with him?” your dad hissed, “he broke our baby’s heart.”

“She’s not a baby anymore, honey, she’s 18-years-old. Besides, if she’s a baby then so is he. He’s probably scared out of his mind. We’ve always heard about soulmates who choose not to be together, we always knew it was possible. Besides, they’re still in high school, they have years to change their minds.”

“This is madness.” He vented, “It’s not even that he shut her out, it’s that he used her own little sister to do it.”

“Honey, I really don’t think it was his intention to hurt anyone. He was already expressing interest in Ella before he’d even turned 18, what was he supposed to do? Just ignore her and move on to Y/N? You’d be angry about that too, don’t deny it.”

“Sure, but I’d understand. There’s an undeniable pull to be with your soulmate. It would have been acceptable.”

You couldn’t listen anymore, grabbing the pillow resting under your head and folding it against your ears. Everything hurt. Despite the fact that you’d hated Jungkook for so many years you could hardly remember ever liking him, his calloused dismissal of your heart hurt more than you cared to admit. You felt broken. 

A quiet sob escaped you before you could stop it but you covered your mouth in an effort to stop your cries as your bedroom door creaked open slowly. Ella peaked her head around the corner, spotting your shadow in the darkness and you watched as she stood up straight, entering your bedroom further. 

Her shoulders were slumped and eyes bloodshot from crying. You were being selfish. You’d never cared to have Jungkook’s affections but Ella had and now she was broken hearted, standing in your doorway. 

“I didn’t know.” She sobbed and you sat up quickly, beckoning her into your arms. She quickly closed the door and came to sit on your bed, burying herself deep into your hug. “I’m so sorry, he didn’t tell me, I didn’t know!” She wailed, “If I had known I would have n-never been around him. You must think I’m such a snake.”

You gasped, pulling away from her and looking into her tear stained eyes. “No!” You insisted, “No, I do not think you’re a snake. How could you have known when neither of us told you?”

“I should have forced him to show me his tattoo.” She wept bitterly. 

“Stop beating yourself up about this, there was no way you could have known and it would have been completely unreasonable to demand to see his tattoo on the tiny chance that it had my name. Honestly, no one knew this was going to happen.” 

Ella hiccupped, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Did you really not know? After all these years? Did you never feel the pull?”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands now resting in your lap. “I’m sure there was a pull, but we’ve known each other since we were babies, there’s no way we would have remembered it.” 

Ella pouted, staring out your window and into the star speckled evening. “I suppose not.” She sighed, “Still, I hate him for what he did!”

“So do I.” You admitted. 

Ella turned back to look at you, linking her fingers with yours. “What happened after Jungkook chased after you? I left the cafeteria as soon as you’d left so I didn’t hear anything.”

You sighed, flopping back on your pillow and stared up at the ceiling, the stars from your childhood still pasted and glowing down at you. “We argued…but what’s new?” You scoffed, “he told me he wasn’t sure he wanted a soulmate, even after I practically offered myself to him. So, I told him if he doesn’t want a soulmate then fine, we won’t be soulmates. I hate him. I feel dead inside. Is that normal when your soulmate doesn’t want you?”

You tried not to let the tears escape but you found you really couldn’t help it today. What a rotten way to end your night. Ella laid down beside you, wiping a tear from your cheek and you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped, covering your face with your hands and crying. 

“What did I do wrong?” You mumbled. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Ella cried patiently, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you into her body. “This was all Jungkook’s fault.”

But despite your sister’s passionate declaration you knew, even if you didn’t want to admit it right now. There were always two people in a relationship and you were not as innocent in the matter as you wished you were. The thing about childhood feuds was that they were always two sided and you’d thrown your fair share of angry accusations. 

But you were 18 and you certainly weren’t going to admit fault; you just couldn’t, not when he’d bruised your ego so cruelly. 

“I hate him.” You scowled.

*****

In the morning your eyelids were heavy from tears and your mouth felt like cotton. Ella was still scrunched up at your side on your twin sized bed, leg thrown over your hips and arm haphazardly strewn across your chest. 

A light knock at your door grabbed your attention and you turned to find your mother peering around the edge of the door, smiling when she noticed the two of you. She stepped quietly into the room and woke your sister, ushering her to the bathroom before turning back to you and sighing, leaning against your wardrobe. 

“I could really use your help around the house today.” She said, picking at her fingernails, “of course, that means you’d have to skip classes today but I can call and just tell them you’re sick or something and then you can help me do some of the stuff I’ve fallen behind in.”

Your mother was a terrible liar, but your heart felt warm at the gesture. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Jungkook, does it?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything more than what I said, honey.” She smiled softly down at you as she came to sit at the edge of your bed. 

“Honestly, I think I’m in need of a mental health day.” You admitted and your mother nodded, threading her fingers through yours.

“We all need one sometimes.” She said, “Why don’t you stay home and unwind. Honey, I know you may not want to hear it right now, but it’s ok to be sad. What you’re feeling is natural and you’re entitled to those feelings.”

“Thanks mom.” You mumbled, staring down at your carpet.

You spent the next few hours running errands with your mom, you even managed to talk her into buying you a pair of new jeans you’d been wanting. 

After getting home and popping some popcorn, you started a movie, the two of you snuggling under some blankets. It was nice to have some time with her, it felt like it had been forever since you’d just sat down and talked. 

By the time your dad arrived home from work, you felt almost back to normal. You knew it wouldn’t last for long, but it was nice to pretend for a few hours. 

Dinner was awkward. That’s the only way to describe it. Your mom tried to start conversations, your dad would look between you and Ella before clearing his throat and staring back down at his food. He’d never been good at talking about awkward situations and this was the dictionary description of awkward and uncomfortable. 

You sighed, stabbing a floret of broccoli and looking over at him. “We can talk about it if you need to. Get it off your chest, you know?”

He looked up at you, eyes wide like he’d been caught with a dirty secret. “I-I.”

“I get it, it’s not exactly a pleasant topic, trust me, I know. I’m just saying, instead of just being awkwardly quiet and dancing around the subject, go ahead and say what’s on your mind.”

He sighed, dropping his fork onto his plate and rubbing his face. “I just hate seeing you girls hurt and knowing it was by the same guy…has me wanting to rip my hair out.”

“Dean.” Your mom frowned and you shook your head.

“It’s fine, mom. I get it, it’s frustrating, but it’s fine. He told me he doesn’t want a soulmate, so fine, we won’t be soulmates.”

“Honey,” your mom sighed, reaching out to grab your hand, “I know right now it hurts a lot, but don’t make such big decisions while angry. This sort of thing affects your whole life and you’re still so young.”

“Mom,” you groaned, “Jungkook and I haven’t been close in years so it’s not really a stretch for me to cut ties. I think it’s better this way. He can go off and be selfish and do whatever he wants and I can go and find my own dreams. I never liked the soulmate thing anyway so this way, I get to be completely in control of my own destiny.”

“All I’m saying is to just let it settle for a little bit and don’t make any giant decisions right now. You might find that you change your mind.”

“Sure, mom.” You said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes and slumping in your chair. 

Once you’d crawled in bed that night you realized with a sinking heart that this was going to take a long time to get over. Growing up, you’d always hated the idea of soulmates, didn’t like the finality of it…but you’d never actually imagined your soulmate turning you down. 

It was such a bruise to your ego and your chest ached at the thought of it. You’d always just kind of assumed that you’d be the one to turn him down but never had you thought it could be the opposite. You stared up at your ceiling, the neon stars glowing dim in the dark. 

In four months, you’d graduate and go to a new place. You hoped it would be your dream school. There, you could forget about all of this, you could be someone new, someone you chose to be.  You could meet new people, date around and meet interesting guys and you’d never have to see Jungkook again.

You let that thought comfort you, visions of university dancing behind your eyelids, heavy with fatigue. A small tap at your window nearly roused you from your sleep drenched thoughts, but you had just gotten comfortable and nothing in the world could rouse you now.

Dreams were the only place you could forget anymore.

*****

Well…I’m so sorry, please forgive me. And please forgive these two idiots! They’re both so confused and dumb; they’ll work it out eventually! I’m trying to decide on the next chapter. I’ve already got one written and could post it right away, but there’s a big jump in time and it might feel disjointed. Should I write a filler chapter or would you prefer I post the other one after editing?

Let me know!

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

Copyright © 2018  by taeken-my-heart (Nora.) All rights reserved.

[captaindodson]

Starstruck - Timothée Chalamet 1/??

Disclaimer: This chapter is a bit slow but I promise it will pick up! Updates will be slow, but I will try my best to get parts out as fast as I can! :)

Word Count: 2.7k

Synopsis: Ella is a 20-year-old girl heading off to college in September and her family insists they all go on a week vacation to California before she leaves. Ella is excited to soak up the California sun and her sister’s are determined to meet the man of their dreams. On one fateful afternoon, Ella and this man accidentally meet and from then on they just can’t seem to get away from each other. 

The squeal of my two sisters breaks my train of thought as I crouch in front of the small bookshelf in my living room. The sound of a woman's voice followed by the sound of cameras flashing alerts me to look over my shoulder in the direction of the sound. With the current spot I am in, I cannot see what is going on. So I grab two books blindly and tuck them under my arm as I make my way closer to the source of the noise to get a better view. My younger sisters Lindsey and Jordan sit on my parent's beige love-seat, covered in our thin, grey, cotton blanket, watching the television intensely. 

“Timothee Chalamet stood on the red carpet tonight as the winner of the best actor trophy for his lead role in NightWatch. Timothee played a rookie detective trying to solve the disappearance of the Mona Lisa. During the investigation, the rookie detective is met with people of his past that just come back to haunt him. Timothee Chalamet currently stands outside 71Above posing for pictures as his rumored girlfriend Victoria Belluci parties inside celebrating his win.”

“Isn’t he so dreamy?” Lindsey says. 

Lindsey rests the back of her hand on her forehead with a small smile, leaning her body back into the love-seat. Jordan copies her actions as they both close their eyes in bliss. I turn my attention back to the scene that is unfolding on screen. A man with brown hair, green eyes, pale skin, wears a dark blue suit, and he stands in front of a set of glass doors. 

“Oh my god, move your butt Ella, we can’t see Timothee!”

I’m not even that close to the television but I take a step back just to feel my legs brush up against a small table holding a large object that begins to wobble. I turn quickly to grab a vase filled with fresh tulips from falling and shattering. Screams alert my attention back again to the television. Timothee has now started signing autographs for people outside the restaurant. He smiles as microphones and cameras are pushed into his face and that is when reporters start yelling questions out at him. 

“Timothee, how does it feel to win best actor?”

“Timothee! Look over here Timothee!” 

“Timothee, is it true you and Victoria are hooking up?Are you guys even together?”

“Timothee! How does it feel to be the next Christian Bale?”

“Timothee, tell us, is it true that you’re working on a secret project?”

“Ahah it’s no secret, I’m currently in rehearsals for the play that’s going to start in two weeks in New York. I’m excited for my fans to see what I and many others have been working hard on.”

Timothee answers the final question with a charming smile. He quickly signs another photo and hands back the marker to a fan. A large muscular man, dressed head to toe in black, comes right up behind Timothee and whispers something into his ear. Timothee’s smile drops for just amount as he nods. His smile bounces back and addresses the crowd that has accumulated on the sidewalk in front of this restaurant that he has to leave as his security starts leading him away into a black car. Timothee jumps in the rear door of the car and then it takes off into the streets of Los Angeles as the crowd that was once surrounding the front of this popular restaurant, quickly separates.  The main camera zooms out as we are brought back to the studio where a woman with dark skin, flowing black hair that rests on her collar bone is dressed in a grey suit is sitting on a pink couch in front of a glass window. She smiles brightly into the camera and starts talking about things relating to Timothee Chalamet. 

“Can you believe it Jordan!? In less than 24 hours we are going to be in California, soaking up all that Cali sun but also rubbing shoulders with Timothee Chalamet!”

Lindsey squeals in delight as she and Jordan high-five each other. I cringe ever so slightly to my sister's scream. 

“What makes him so special? He’s just like any other male actor.” I shrug at my sisters and they give me a look of disbelief.  

“Excuse me, what makes him so special? He academy award-wining actor who is extremely talented and hot.” Jordan just glares at me. 

“Okay besides the point,  California is filled with millions of people, the likelihood of meeting him is super slim. How can you be so sure you’ll see him-” I’m cut off mid-sentence by Jordan. 

“We know where he’ll be. If you didn’t know Ella, both of us run very popular Timothee Chalamet fan accounts that follow his every move,” Lindsey jumps into the conversation. 

“We know where he eats, where he hangs out, who he friends with, we’ve got eyes all over the world Ella.”

“Okay, that’s just really creepy. Listen, Lindsey, you’re sixteen and so are you Jordan. Mom and dad will never let you two go out on your own in a different country. We aren’t going to California to chase guys, and that includes Timothee. ” 

I cross my arms at this point and my sisters do the same. 

“Who says we can’t, ” Jordan and Lindsey say at the same time while keeping strong eye contact. A moment of silence occurs and then my dad’s voice breaks through the air. 

“Says me. Girls, Ella is right, we are not going to California to chase boys. We are going to spend some good quality time together before Ella heads off to college.”

Our dad enters the room from the kitchen and pulls me into a half hug, he then continues. 

 “This will be the last time in a while before we get to see our sweet Ella again, so ladies lets make the most of it.”

My dad smiles down at me and I smile back.

“Yeah but dad-!” Lindsey attempts to reason with our dad by pulling out a pout and puppy dog eyes. Jordan copies her actions in an attempt to help persuade my dad. My dad walks towards Lindsey and stops right behind the love-seat. 

“Lindsey, you will have plenty of time for that stuff. This vacation is about spending some quality time with family.”  

He pats the top of the love seat with his hand. “Okay dad, I guess you’re right.”

Lindsey sighs and slumps back against Jordan in defeat. My dad gives her a small smile and turns so he is facing all of us girls. 

“Anyways, girls you better get your things ready, we are leaving first thing tomorrow morning!”

My dad says as he walks with a skip in his step back into the kitchen. Lindsey and Jordan throw off the blanket that was in their lap and start running towards the stairs to their shared bedroom. I take my time walking up the wooden steps and down the hallway into my room. I toss the books I had under my arm into my suitcase laying wide open next to my closet doors.  I stretch my arms up as my green t-shirt rides up on my stomach and then I relax again. I put my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. 

“In less than 24 hours I can enjoy the California sunshine while trying new delicious  food.”

I smile at the thought and as I head towards my dresser to start getting ready for the night. The morning arrives fairly quickly but also soars by in a flash. Everyone wakes up at sunrise and packs into our moms black mini-van and drive about 45 minutes into the city to get to Pearson airport. We go through security and Lindsey and Jordan are skipping ahead of me to get onto the flight while our parents hang back behind me. We make it to our flight on time and all get adjusted in our tiny airplane seats.  Jordan and Lindsey sit on the inside seats next to the window as I sit on the edge, next to the isle, plugging in my headphones to watch whatever movie to pass the time.

~~

By the time we land Jordan and Lindsey and rushing to get their bags out of the luggage and squeezing through people getting their things, while my parents and I take our time getting our carry on’s and head out of the crowded plane.  As we all walk through the bright tunnel on our way to the main body of LAX, the voices of people get louder and louder. Once we exit the tunnel, there’s just hundreds of people, all different nationalities and ages walking around.  

We head to the baggage claim and grab all of our stuff and start heading outside. I yawn into my arm as I drag my large suitcase across the LAX parking lot as follow my family to the car rental place. By the time we make it there, the wait isn’t very long. My dad got us a decent sized car and everyone shoves their luggage in the trunk and slides in. 

I let Lindsey and Jordan jump in first as I slide in after.  Everyone buckles themselves in and we head off towards our rental house for the week. We start driving out of the airport and this is when I pull out my white headphones and turn up my music and admire the Los Angeles landscape. Buildings shine brightly in the California sun, people are walking their dogs, skateboarding, a couple food trucks on the street. It’s almost unreal that I’m here right now.  I rest my head on the window and the smooth ride combined with my music lulls me to sleep.

~~

I don’t know how long I was asleep, but I’m awoken by a large bump in the road and this is when I realize we’ve already made it to our destination. It’s a very modern sized house with a brown tiled roof that tops tan brick walls. The house has a front porch with black metal chairs resting against the front of the house. A small path made up of large stones leads from the house to the driveway. Healthy green grass spreads itself all across the front of the property. 

“Mom, can Jordan and I go to a fro-yo shop down the street? It’s super famous for its pumpkin pie flavor and Jordan and I really, really want to try it.”

Lindsey says this as she and Jordan unbuckle themselves and push the car door open. 

“Sweetheart, as much as we trust you we can’t let you go out by yourself. We have to unpack and figure out what we are going to do for dinner”

My mom tells my sisters. Lindsey and Jordan look at each other before they both speak. 

“Ella said she would be happy to bring us! Right, Ella?!”Jordan pipes in.

 I squint my eyes at them,  “I didn’t agree to anything-” I’m cut off by Lindsey. 

“You told us before we left the house you’d bring us for some sister time since I’ll miss you sooooo much during the school year. ”

Lindsey gives me a puppy dog look and I make eye contact with my parents who are both staring at me. Feeling the pressure from them I cave in.

“Okay, let's go ” I sigh deeply. The girls high five each other as my parents give me a smile.

“Excellent! Be back in a half-hour girls, it’ll give me and your mom time to unpack a few things, and then we can all decide what we want to do for dinner when you girls get back.”

My dad smiles widely at us as he lifts another suitcase out of the rental car. Lindsey and Jordan smile devilishly at each other as I sign deeply and walk back towards the car to retrieve my things. 

I collect my wallet and phone from the car as Jordan and Lindsey scurry down the sidewalk. I stuff my hands in my pockets as I follow my sister and Jordan down the street to this fro-yo place. They seem to talk quietly to themselves as I admire the scene around me. The three of us walk down the sidewalk along a ton of nice houses. Many look like the one my family is renting but just colored differently. Cars also drive back and forth on the road and the echo of car horns and people yelling fill the air. It’s hard to believe that I’m so close to attending the school of my dreams. When I finished high school I didn’t know what I wanted to do so I worked and saved up money until I finally figured it out. 

By the time I reach a crosswalk there are already a few other people waiting so I just stand behind this guy in a yellow beanie and a denim jacket. I tap my foot as I continue to look around soaking in the California sun. Just as the traffic light is about to turn red I notice something. Weren’t Jordan and Lindsey in front of me? I whip my head around to try and spot them, I catch the smallest glimpse of Lindsey’s blonde hair just as she turns the corner at the end of the street. I squeeze in between the people around me, apologizing quickly and now running to catch up with Lindsey and Jordan. I’ve run about a block when Jordan and Lindsey start slowing down. I slow my pace down a little bit to catch my breath. 

“Jordan! Lindsey!” I yell out to them. At this moment they pick up their speed and catch me off guard. By the time I reach the end of another street and turn the corner they’re long gone. 

Shit. I heavily breathe as I lean forward to rest my hands on my knees. 

“Damn, they’re fast,” I mumble to myself. 

I look at the few people who pass me on the sidewalk. Each of them ignoring my presence and continuing with their day.  I stand tall as I try again to try and see if I can spot where Lindsey and Jordan ran off too. My breathing slows to a regular pace as I hear the echo of screaming men and women coming from my right. To my right, conveniently is a relatively large, but clear, ally way. The most prominent object in the ally is a large green dumpster with a black lid. It seems like if I run I’d be able to clear the ally and catch up to Lindsey and Jordan. 

I take a deep breath and start my jog into the ally. My light jog turns into a sprint to quickly get through this. The screaming and chanting of people get louder as I make it closer to the other side. Before I can even react, a tall figure dressed in a navy hoodie and a baseball hat turns quickly into the ally with his head down and I slam right into him  I fall back onto the hard concrete beneath me with a loud thump as he stumbles but catches his footing. His hood has now slipped off his hat and I can his face more clearly. 

 “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-”

I’m cut off mid-sentence as this stranger dives right for me, covering my mouth with his pale hand. My eyes widen as I’m met with a pair of forest green eyes staring deeply into my hazel eyes. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, just please don’t scream my name.”

[unlockthelore]

Chivalry

For so long, Kairi had been the one who was protected, but now she had to protect the ones who tried their hardest for her.

Part of the Beyond the Horizon series on Ao3. For more updates, follow the beyond the horizon tag on this blog.

Returning to the island where they played as children was difficult on Riku. As much as he tried to hide his inner struggles, they were there, plain as day in Kairi’s eyes. She could tell how he tried not to approach the Secret Place or the furthermost treehouse with its open terrace where the palm trees shaded enough for a nice nap. Walks along a sandy shore with the surf’s chilled foamy waters rolling over their feet were harder when they looked back and found only two sets of footprints instead of three. She didn’t pretend not to notice when Riku squeezed her hand or lingered on the bent paopu tree long past sunset.

A space always left between them for the one who couldn’t be there with them.

For now, she reminded herself. Just for now.

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

“Need another pin.”

Riku’s voice roused her from her thoughts just as the waves crashed against the pier’s wooden posts. A spray of water misting against the soles of her feet as they swung back and forth over the damp wooden boards. Kairi tipped her head to one side then glanced toward the calloused palm hovering in her periphery. The scrapes and bruises unable to be healed by healing magic blended into peach tanned skin, but afternoons spent tracing them with her nails reminded her of where they were. She shuffled slightly, a throbbing ache in her lower back from sitting in one position for so long. Her fingers dipped into the small cup of bobby pins left beside an assortment of colorful hair clips beneath the pom of her moogle backpack. Two plucked out and set in Riku’s palm. Sunlight catching on the glossy black surface until his fingers curled around them and a light kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

“Thank you.”

Kairi smiled to herself, one of her knees pulled to her chest as she leant back against him. His fingers working into her hair with the start of another braid somewhere at the right side of her head. “So you’re going on another world tour after this?” She asked, resting her hand against his thigh, the checkered pattern of his board shorts plucked between her fingertips.

It took a moment longer for him to reply. Always so serious with his work, a distracted hum was his only response for a moment. “Yeah…” He murmured, and she felt him tie off the braid after snapping on a rubber band. “Part of being a Keyblade Master is making sure no one has so much as a hurt toe, I guess.”

“Riku,” she scolded gently.

Although, she could understand his discontent with the task. Masters were charged with the world’s affairs, but in Kairi’s opinion, it seemed too big of a job for one person. Or two, in Aqua and Riku’s case. More than that, she knew what he wanted to do with the access he was given to traversing the worlds but someone had to be there to help. Perhaps they were following Sora’s example by trying to do more for others instead of putting themselves first.

She frowned and curled her fingers around Riku’s knee, squeezing gently. “It has been awhile though, and it would be nice to see everyone again.”

The likelihood of new information cropping up was minuscule but they could take comfort in knowing their friends hadn’t given up. Just as they hadn’t. Riku’s thigh tensed beneath her elbow and his hands stilled in her hair. She could tell he was considering her words or at least the implication set behind them. A light ruffle to the back of her head before he started to gather her hair up in a ponytail.

“Just so long as you don’t disappear into the castle for hours,” he said with a playful scolding tone. “I swear, Ienzo will talk to you forever about science if you let him.”

Kairi smiled, keeping her head stilled as he continued combing his fingers through her hair. “He’s just really passionate about what he does!” She clapped her hands together, fingertips pressing and palms barely touching. “Besides, it’s nice to hear it.”

To be included, if she were honest. So often were things done without her involvement or knowledge. Left out. Left behind. She was sick and tired of being the odd one out who wasn’t expected to do anything. If everyone she loved was going to fight then so was she. Even if it did mean going through lectures and notes Ienzo meticulously prepared, far too eager to share his knowledge with someone else.

After a few moments of idle humming and his hands working through her hair, Kairi bounced and pressed her empty hand to her thigh. “Are we done?” She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice but she desperately wanted to see his work. Growing out their hair again had been a mutual decision for the time being.

The unspoken condition not having to be said when they thought back to their journey before the last. Sora lamenting that he was the only one who hadn’t grown between the three of them. When in her eyes, he was one of the two that had changed the most.

Her bangs were swept to one side in answer, Riku’s lilting hum coming with the soft click of a hair clip. Rough palms gently cupped her cheeks and tipped her head back to where his lips were waiting to brush a kiss against her forehead. It was featherlight and fleeting, ending before she could really enjoy it, but a pleasant touch all the same. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as her lips pulled back in a smile, fingers curled over his own to squeeze.

“Are we done?”

“Mmm…” Sharp shadows cast by the fading afternoon sun darkened Riku’s blue-green eyes, half-lidded as his gaze flicked about her face lingering somewhere above her eyes. “Yep.”

Kairi grinned and brushed his hands away, twisting to kneel between his thighs, her arms thrown around his neck in a tight hug. “Thanks Riku.”

“Welcome,” he murmured. His breath ghosted across her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her spine that had little to do with the water dribbling along her toes. Gentle pressure from his hand flattened against her back in the barest show of affection.

Kairi sighed. Her mouth tucked against the curve of his jaw as she held him close and listened to the waves. One day, she wished, one day Riku would be able to accept the love they had to give him. As a friend and hopefully something else. She pulled back enough to hold him by the shoulders, ignoring a faint flutter in her chest when he looked up at her from beneath silver-white eyelashes.

“How about we go tomorrow?”

Surprise flickered across Riku’s features, and Kairi could understand why. Abrupt departures were something they tried to avoid when finding a new normal. But normal was far off for either of them. “Fine by me,” he said after a brief pause, a small smile quirked at the corners of his lips. “Little late today anyway. Your grandpa will kick my ass if you disappear without telling him.”

Kairi stifled a giggle behind a closed fist drawn to her mouth while her other hand thumped against Riku’s shoulder scoldingly. While she could recall the mayor’s stricken face when she returned to the main land, it was his weeping in private that’d made her reluctant to leave so soon.

“He’s been letting up just a little with letting me go more, but I still should tell him.”

The hand against her lower back hovered somewhere near her hip with the other joining it to keep her steady. Riku shifted backward to make room for her to clamor up onto the pier, the items spilled out of their shared backpack stored away.

“Lucky you,” she heard Riku say as he tried to free the moogle’s pom from the pack’s zipper. Her reflection in her gummiphone’s camera smiling and observing the three braids, clip and high ponytail he’d done with interest.

Once their pack was closed and hiked up on Riku’s shoulder, he held his hand out to her and Kairi took it with a light squeeze. She hooked her fingers in the opening of her sneakers and carried them at her side as they walked down the pier. Riku strolling down the steps one by one while Kairi hopped two by two. Their uneven pace dragged him forward a bit and only after he nudged her shoulder did she decide to slow down. Moisture along the soles of her feet made the sand cling between her toes, a soft krrch as she rubbed them together, enjoying the grit and slight sink of her heels in the sun warmed shores.

It only made sense for her to walk in the surf, she pointed out to Riku as she tugged him over. Glistening waters washed over her feet and barely touched the soles of his sandals although he made sure to gripe about it every time it came close. Their talks ranged from his mother’s experiments with the Keyblade out of sheer engineering delight, and their respective guardians’ reactions to learning there were other worlds outside of their own. While her grandfather seemed to accept it well enough, Riku’s mother was infinitely curious.

Like mother, like son.

“My mom’s been worried every time I talk about a new world. Chip and Dale gave her a gummiphone to ease her worry, and they’ve been talking non-stop about prototypes and who knows what else.”

Kairi giggled. “Little victories, Riku.”

He shot her a look of mock annoyance. “Always looking on the bright side, aren’t you? Let me sulk a bit, will ya?”

As they crossed beneath the bridge connecting the island to the smaller one a bit further from its shores, Kairi pretended to think it over. Shade provided by the wood was filtered with glimmers of light between the cracks and openings. It’d been awhile since Sora’s dad came to patch the bridge up. She could hardly imagine what it would be like a few years from now. Rolling her eyes up to the small streaks of sunlight, she hummed then shook her head.

“Nope!” She swung their hands back and forth, smiling despite his withering stare. “Not allowed.”

Riku sighed heavily, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Princess.

Kairi swallowed. She hardly thought of the title much in the recent year or two. Not like when she’d been pulled from their island the first time. Her heart vied after because it was that of a princesses’. Seeing all of those empty faces, vacant eyes, Sora’s pain to strive and get her back but all he saw was a shell. She wasn’t truly inside. She was part of him. The princess who needed saving was right by his side all along but unable to do a thing.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” She asked, trying to keep the mood jovial but the bitter thought soured her tone.

Riku’s half-jesting smile fell, a single brow raised as they slowed to a stop half-way beneath the bridge. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m not really a princess,” she said. Not at all. Even from the world she truly came from, there was nothing about her that was princess-like. Only a little girl who enjoyed flowers and her grandmother’s stories.

“What? You mean like the ones in fairy tales?”

Something in her snapped at the mention of fairy tales. Her grandmother’s face, weathered with age but sincere with greyed eyes and a chipper smile. “Yes,” she huffed. Riku snorted and shook his head. Kairi frowned. Just what was he not understanding? “I’m not a princess.”

She squeezed his hand and the last of the humor drained out of him as he stared down at her, his eyes seeming to glow in the weak light.

“Okay, and what is a princess to you?”

Her mouth fell open and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say. Her grandmother described princesses in one way or another with all of the stories of young women scattered across time in different worlds.

“Someone that’s meant to be royalty,” Kairi started, ticking off the traits on her fingers. “Calming, kind, gentle, loving, caring.”

With it laid out before her, she had to attest that she wasn’t any of those things. Hardly calming with the amount of trouble that stirred with her mere presence. Kind was an overstatement. She was nice when she wanted to be and otherwise, if someone really deserved it then she’d let them have it. Gentle, absolutely not. Loving, her gaze flicked to Riku and his thoughtful expression then the image of Sora in her mind.

Caring? If she cared, then neither of them would be like —

“Wanna know what a princess is like to me?” Riku interjected, cutting off the poisonous thoughts and dragging her back to reality. His eyes were glowing in the darkness and seemed to only render her silent as all she could do was muster a nod. “Someone like you.”

With how resolutely he spoke the words, she couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Transfixed on his face and the stern set of his jaw as he held her hand a bit tighter.

“So what if you weren’t meant to be royalty. Half the people who are don’t deserve it anyway,” he seemed to consider something then shrugged half-heartedly. “Sans the king and queen that is.”

Kairi tried not to laugh as Riku mumbled and fumbled with his words. It was sincere and she felt the biting souring thoughts begin to drift backward. Not out of mind but further from the centre of it.

“People have to want to follow you and listen to you. You think Donald and Goofy would’ve chased after Mickey for so long if they didn’t at least like him?”

She had to give him a point on that one. King Mickey, despite all of his faults, was fairly likable if not a little cute. Donald was a bit of a livewire while Goofy could be a bit lazy now and again. For both of them to run around the worlds with Sora in search of their lost king, he had to be something.

Still, that changed little in what she thought. Her fingers pressed against his own, their palms warm and a bit clammy. “Who would want to listen to me?”

Her voice rarely reached. When Sora needed encouragement, when he was at his lowest and felt abandoned by all those around him, she could barely summon a word to help him out. But she could hear him calling to her all the time from where she slept. Assuring her that he would come and rescue her, that he missed her, that they would all be together again. Riku did the same but his words were harsher. He assured he would protect her, that he wouldn’t let anything else harm her, that they’d go elsewhere — all three of them — just like they said.

They were all blinded and unable to hear.

And all she wanted was for them to listen to what she had to say.

Riku tugged her close by the hand, her toes catching in the sand as she fell into the solid warmth of his chest. His hand pressed to her back as he held her close.

“Me. Right now.… Hear me out?”

Kairi curled her fingers in the back of his tank top and pressed her forehead to his chest, nodding slowly. Riku felt sturdy and firm, solid with enough softness that she could be sure he wasn’t made out of stone. His fingers brushed against the swell of her ponytail and she hugged him tighter around his middle.

“You’re kind, you’re caring…” He snorted and flicked the ends of her hair, sending them sweeping against her shoulders with a light tickle that made a giggle bubble up in her throat. “And very stubborn.”

Kairi huffed, patting his back lightly. “So are you.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind being a princess,” Riku said in a snobbish tone. Kairi biting back laughter by burying her face against his chest. His own chuckles felt as vibrations beneath her cheek. “Let me finish.”

She nodded slowly and brought her other hand around his middle, her sneakers knocking together as she hooked her hands by her pinkies. Riku’s hand settled against the top of her head and smoothed down her hair. The distant crash of waves, trickling frorm the makeshift waterfall near the little cove they called their Secret Place. Even the gentle creaking of the wood as it groaned beneath a salty breeze rolled in from the ocean. It all reminded her so much of home.

“You’re kind but you don’t let people walk over you. You know your worth, what you put your time into you’re passionate about. And you do your best to help. That’s why people listen to you. You’re always trying, we can rely on you. Remember when we found Chocolina as kids? You calmed her down because you’re you. That’s your power, Kairi.”

She buried her face against his chest. It was difficult to stop herself from doing it. With all of what he said, she couldn’t help but try to find some alternative. When they needed her most — her voice couldn’t reach them, but she was trying now. That meant something, didn’t it? Sora’s infectious cheer, all of his positive-thinking, it might have been rubbing off on them for awhile now. As much as she wanted to be upset with herself, she wanted to take this chance even more.

Riku’s hand settled against her shoulder, strong and unyielding, but gentle as he pulled back from her. His blue-green eyes softened, fingers curling beneath her chin to tilt her head up. Concern stole his smile and his thumb swiped under her eye, smearing a tear against her skin. She sniffed and offered him a smile as her hand came up to cup the back of his own.

“So what if you’re not one of the ones in the story. I never was really into the damsel in distress type anyway.”

Kairi covered her mouth hurriedly, a snort that was definitely unprincess-like left them both sputtering in laughter. Riku leant down and his forehead pressed to hers as they laughed and smiled. If a few tears slipped past then neither of them mentioned it. Only wiping it away with the crooks of fingers and a reassuring glance. Her hand slipped into Riku’s again and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“But if it bothers you, I’ll stop calling you that,” he promised, and she knew that he meant it.

The walk from beneath the bridge was slower and as they approached the other side of the sands, Kairi glanced up at him.

“Riku?”

He gave a soft hum, his head turned the other way, eyes focused on the ramshackle doorway which led to the other part of the island. She wondered what he was thinking. Would it have been the race he had with Sora? Or when they were finally putting the last touches on their raft.

“… Be my prince?”

His hold on her hand tightened considerably and absently, Kairi had to wonder if he was holding back his real strength all the time. His head whipped around and in the scarlet sunrays, she could see the faint touch of pink in his cheeks. “What?”

She tipped her head to one side, feigning innocence with a small smile. “Too much?”

“W- I mean…” Riku sputtered, and Kairi tried her best not to laugh. It wasn’t often that she saw him at a loss for words or this shy. He lifted a hand, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m not really the prince type, Kairi.”

“Of course you are,” she insisted, feeling just a bit of payback was in order along with honesty. “You’re kind and patient, and you always come to the rescue when you’re needed. Besides, I feel safe around you.”

With each trait listed off, Riku seemed to grow more and more shy. She wanted to pull him into another hug and assure him that it was true. All of the words she was speaking, the meaning behind them, they were absolutely true. Riku always thought the worst of himself and although she knew he was changing to begin with — this wasn’t what she wanted.

He didn’t deserve to suffer for his mistakes forever.

“If you’re really set on having a prince, save that spot for Sora.”

Kairi’s eyes widened as the name fell from Riku’s lips. He didn’t shy away from speaking about Sora in matters of finding him or the deeds he committed for the sake of the worlds. But on their own, in times when it was only them, he seemed to dance around speaking his name as if he was unworthy of saying it. His hand fell from the back of his neck, hanging loosely at his side as he gazed northward past the broken fence partly submerged where it hung off from the shores and dipped into the ocean.

Kairi followed his line of sight and for a second, she could imagine Sora hopping along the posts while they urged him to be careful. His sunny grin wet when he accidentally slipped and fell into the water, splashing about in surprise. Riku ran after him without hesitation and Kairi returned to the treehouses to grab a few of the sheets to help them dry off after. She squeezed his fingers again as the memory faded along with Sora’s laughter.

“Then what are you?” She asked, turning her gaze back to Riku. He surprised her, constantly. Always deflecting positive affirmations to someone else. She knew that he didn’t mean to. That he was trying to stay within the lines that he’d set and not stray from them. Time would help them both but she wasn’t sure what all was needed. How far did they have to go before they could be together without feeling guilty again.

Riku shrugged, sheepish but receptive as he glanced toward her. A pride in his eyes that reminded her of the boy who proclaimed they’d leave their home world with a simple call of ‘Let’s go’.

“The knight who keeps you both safe.”

Kairi shook her head, tugging lightly on their hands. “We keep each other safe, Riku,” she chided gently, tipping her head skyward. “And we’ll save our prince and then…”

“Happily ever after.”

Kairi looked to him in surprise, the vague amusement showing in his eyes as he laced their fingers together then turned his gaze skyward.

“Yeah,” she echoed back as she stared at him numbly, then turned her gaze upward once more. “Happily ever after…”

[serenitydusk]

Until Midnight

A fluffy fic request from my dear friend @nerdqueenkat​!  Just in time for her birthday!  Thanks to @ijwrff for being my beta!  

“I have a favor to ask you.” 

A pit of dread opened up in your stomach. The fact your boss was asking and not telling you to do something told you exactly how onerous you were going to find this task.

“And I’m asking you because I know you’ll do a great job.” 

And that just cinched it. “I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?’ You sighed.

“Absolutely.”  Gressil grinned. It did have a drop of sympathy in it. “I wouldn’t ask, but I cannot go, and you’re the only one I trust to not make a mess of things.”  He quickly explained that in all likelihood, you’d be one of the few, possibly only, humans there.  “Just mingle a bit, make some connections. Be seen.”  It was one of those parties that he couldn’t get out of without offending the host, but even he couldn’t be in two places at once. “There will be a bonus in it, plus overtime.”

In the end, he gave you the bonus up front, plus let you have the company credit card to buy an outfit and shoes. 

“Get whatever you need.” Well, you certainly had. You’d never paid this much for an entire season’s wardrobe let alone one dress. And the shoes. You had actually texted Gressil how much they were, expecting him to blow up and tell you absolutely not. But he had sent you to this place in particular.

‘That’s fine. Whatever you need.’

‘Gress, it’s more than my house payment…for just shoes….’

‘If that’s a hint for a raise….’  There was a pause, then a new text came through. ‘Ok. You should see the increase in next month’s check.’

You nearly choked. You’d never, not once, asked for a raise, and to be fair, you’d never really had to. Gressil had always been good about making sure you were well paid, above what was considered a competitive salary.  

You had to admit, you looked …really good. The guy that helped you pick out everything had been a genius and had made a shopping trip you’d been dreading into something that was almost fun.  

But all that confidence dwindled once you got inside and saw everyone.  Every. Single. One. of them was perfection. Perfect smiles. Perfect hair. Perfect clothes. Perfect bodies.  And here you were a fraud playing dress up and feeling like a potato. The anxiety welled up inside, breaking you out in a cold sweat.  You’d promised Gressil an hour.  One hour. And then you could leave.  And after about fifteen minutes you decided you could do this.  It’s not like anyone was noticing you anyway. You’d made your appearance, now you just had about forty-five more minutes that would have earned you a nice bonus you could use at Christmas.

“You’d think a place like this would have hired decent help.”  A man smiled at you snidely.  You weren’t sure what exactly he was, but he definitely wasn’t human. Not with the green skin and scales. “Do be a dear and run and fetch us some more champagne, won’t you? If you’re quite done gawking.” He looked back at his companion snickering, “Humans… barely worth the effort to impress really.” 

You looked behind you, trying to figure out who he was talking to, when it dawned on you that he was talking ...to you. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking… but I don’t work here. I’m a guest, like you.” 

“Oh, that’s cute. You’re nothing like me.” His smile took on an ugly bent to it. “It’s insulting that you think so.”

A deep laugh came from behind the green-skinned fellow, “You’re right about one thing. She’s nothing like the boil on the devil’s arse you are, Heulog.”  A tall man stepped around them. He looked ...more human than the green skinned man, at first glance. But it was clear that he wore only the thinnest veil of humanity around him.  His eyes were like molten silver and the pupils were cat slitted.  And his face … he had to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. “Come on, my dear. Let’s leave these jackeens to their own devices.”  He took your hand, deftly steering you away.  

Jackeens?  Who even said that?  He sounded vaguely European, but for the life of you, you couldn’t place the accent. Scottish maybe?  With a hint of something exotic?

He found a spot out of the way, a place for you to finally sit down as he handed you a glass of wine. “Dreadful party, really. Such a bore. I’m Ash, by the way.” 

Introducing yourself as well, you took the wine. “Thank you for that.”  You glanced around, not seeing the two jerks any longer. 

“They aren’t going to be bothering anyone here again.” He took a sip of his own drink. “And you’re welcome. I should be thanking you for giving me some noble purpose by saving a lovely maiden.” 

Your cheeks flushed at the ‘lovely maiden’ bit. As handsome as he was well, he probably just flirted with anyone and everyone. Giving him a wan smile, “I’m fine now really. If you want to get back to ..whoever you’re with here.” 

“Ah, well, I’m not with anyone.”  Oh he knew a few people here.  And liked even less.  Which was saying something for the gregarious prince. He sat down, “Maybe we can keep each other company until this thing is over?  At least keep each other awake?”  

Laughing a bit wryly, “That hard up for company?” Why was he even paying attention to you when… you looked out across the room and saw a sea of beauty that you couldn’t possibly compare to no matter how hard you tried. 

“I think you’re lovely company.” He gently tilted your chin, bringing your gaze back to his, “Inside and out.” He let out a slow breath, “Besides, you’re exactly what you appear to be and you have no idea how alluring that is for a change.” 

“What do you mean?” It was a struggle to look away from those beautiful eyes, but you managed a glance back out to the crowd. 

He shrugged as he leaned back. “Just what I said. You can’t see it, but that…” He tossed his head towards the crowd, “...is not what you think it is.” 

Well, that wasn’t nerve wracking at all. You knew Gressil wore a human guise, but you had never really thought beyond what was under it. “Are you telling me that everyone here is a monster?” 

“In one way or another, yes.” He didn’t seem particularly offended that you referred to them, ...or him, as a monster. 

“Even you?” Perhaps not the wisest question to ask, but the words had already left your liips.

Gressil had warned you once, “The illusions keep you humans safe, Don’t try to look past them.” And you’d tried not to wonder, accepting what you saw as what was real. But you couldn’t believe this gorgeous man sitting beside you was ...a monster.  Even if he wasn’t human.

“Perhaps especially me.” 

“I don’t believe it. You’re not human, but that doesn’t make you a monster.” You saw a look in his eyes as he sat back up leaning closer to you. A look you couldn’t name, some emotion that was so fleeting. Longing? Almost pleading with a hint of vulnerability and then it was gone. Leaving you to wonder if you had just imagined it. 

As you chatted, a new crowd of people wandered in and that’s when you saw him. Your ex. What in the hell was he doing here? “I have to go. I have to.” You stood, nearly losing your balance as you grabbed your purse.

Ash reached to steady you, catching you by your elbow, feeling your panic rise.  He glanced over to where your eyes kept darting to. “Who is he?” There was a hint of steel in his voice underneath the silk. 

You shook your head. “Nothing like that. Just …”  Dropping your head, embarrassed at your overreaction. “...a very bad decision that I let go on for longer than it should have. I just never expected to see him here.” He hadn’t noticed you yet, you could still slip out. 

A ...goblin? Ash could see through the glamour, but he doubted you could. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”  He rose. “Don’t run. He’s not worth it.” Tucking your arm in his, he stroked your cheek, “Please?” 

Shaking your head, “I have fifteen more minutes and I can go home.” 

Ash glanced up at the giant, ornate clock. “It’s not even close to midnight yet.” He grinned, knowing it was a cheesy reference. “Stay until then.  Be my Cinderella?” 

You scoffed, “You cannot be serious. This isn’t some fairy tale. Why would you want to be Prince Charming ...to me?” 

“Darling, why wouldn’t I?”  He frowned, clearly confused. 

Hot tears burned at your eyes and throat, but you’d be damned if you cried and ruined your makeup. “Because I’m a pumpkin not a princess?” 

Brushing aside the traitorous tear that slipped down your cheek, “Darling...whoever told you that you weren’t beautiful lied. They were afraid if you knew your worth, you’d know you were too good for them.”  He kissed your forehead and for some reason it calmed you.  If he had hugged you instead, you were sure you would have ended up sobbing in his arms. “There is a reason fae have stolen humans and taken them as lovers for eons past. You are beautiful.” 

“You’re fae?” You swallowed back a sob at his words.

His laugh surprised both of you. All of that only to ask if he was fae. Though, he was not offended, letting you move the conversation to less emotional territory. “Yes. My mother was.” 

At least until you asked, “And your father?” 

There was a flash in his eyes, bitter and sharp, “My father was not.”  It was gentle, but it was also obviously a closed subject for him. “Come. If you wish to avoid him, we can find a secluded spot and watch the party from the safety of a glamour.  Or you can venture out and be treated like the princess you deserve to be.”  

It was a tempting choice, to hide. But after thinking for a moment, “You won’t suddenly disappear?” 

“Not without you.”  Ash grinned, taking your hand and leading you out into the crowd. 

The two of you danced and he did introduce you to some people you could bring back to Gressil as potential clients. One of whom addressed your ‘date’...(was this a date??) as ‘your highness’.

Once they’d wandered off and you were alone again, you leaned close to whisper. “You’re an actual prince?” 

“An actual prince.” He nodded clearly amused at your shock.

“Your mother’s the queen?” You felt just a touch lightheaded at this revelation. 

“Sister, actually. It’s a bit complicated, but yes, she’s the queen, and as her younger brother, I’m a prince.” He spoke of it as if it were no consequence, though in truth, it was. He hadn’t been born into the role, both he and his sister had earned the right to be called fae royalty. It had been no easy thing for either of them. “It doesn’t change who I was five minutes ago.”

The idea of being with a prince was a bit daunting to say the least, but perhaps he was right.  He was who he was, title or not. 

It seemed like the hours flew by and before long the clock started the midnight chime. The two of you had found a quiet balcony, away from the noise and it seemed like the rest of the world had faded away. And you didn’t want this to end.

“It doesn’t have to…”  

Blushing you realized you’d said it out loud, “It does. I go back to work tomorrow and you go back to Neverland, or wherever it is you came from.” 

“I can always return, you know.  Or you could ...come visit. I promise I won’t steal you away unless you want me to.” He brushed a kiss over your knuckles. “If you’re interested, that is.” 

“IF?  If I’m interested?” You couldn’t quite believe this was all happening, especially that he’d want to see you again. 

“Are you?” A smile played at his lips as he brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face, leaning closer as if he was going to kiss you. 

You were barely able to get out a whispered ‘yes’ as the clock struck midnight and his lips touched yours.

[tora-the-cat]

Baby Rin & Obito thoughts

-I don’t think people understand what it means that Obito and Rin were best friends since they were 5. Like. I just get the vibe that half the fandom can’t conceptualize that accurately.

-(I can though)

-5. 5! They were actual babies!

-When they’re super young and obviously pre-transitioned they still would steal each others clothes and try to confuse people over who’s who, like identical twins.

-They were child soldiers growing up during the war! By all likelihoods, they were drafted into the academy at all of 5 years old. They graduated at 10! Obito wasn’t seen as a ‘genius’ by any stretch of imagination, so we can only assume this was the common graduating age during the 3rd war. How much more harsh is the curriculum? How much more traumatizing? Paranoia inducing? propagandist?

-Me and my best friend since 5 both had relatively healthy home lives, none of the ninja brand trauma, and we STILL ended up basically codependent. These poor kids had no chance.

-There’s no way these two aren’t in each others pocket. Was there a single secret between the two of them? One topic that was forbidden? Probably not! To Both!

-the two of them could hold entire conversations, arguments, lectures, in a matter of moments with just micro-expressions. It often seemed that the only time Obito would shut up was when he and Rin were staring at each other and their faces would twitch, sometimes for minutes on end, as if that was as natural a way of communicating as speaking.

-It was very useful on covert operations! It was very frustrating during team building exersises, because neither of them were really used to trying to actaully get closer to people besides eachother.

-they had so many in-jokes that Minato and Kakashi sometimes thought they were speaking another language entirely. 

-Every time there was a foldable chair in Rin’s sight, she would obnoxiously clear her throat and shoot it meaningful looks, and Obito would seethe, looking seconds away from blowing up, but never would and never explained why.  

-Obito would dramatically throw himself in front of Rin and shout about protecting her whenever he spotted a squirrel, and act completely confused and annoyed when Minato and Kakashi didn’t acknowledge the threat and take it seriously. 

-Obito would collect four leaf clovers whenever he saw them and then when he braided Rin’s hair for her he’d weave them into it without her even noticing until hours or, on particularly hard missions, days later. Still, everytime she found one, no matter how bad the mission or the horrors she had just seen or was on her way to see, she would pick it out with more care then Kakashi knew anything could be done and gave it a look so soft it made Kakashi inexplicably angry and she'd smile, like it was the easiest thing to do, and her haunted eyes would clear just a little as she snuck them into Obito’s Kunai pouch.

-It was impossible to get one alone without the other. They orbited around each other, never further then a shout away, Joined at the hip. 

-They were always touching, be it the common hand holding, or Obito whining and hanging off of Rin, or Rin reprimanding him and squeezing his shoulders, or them dragging each other around the village, or Rin poking Obito in the nose to make him scrunch it up, or Obito squshing Rin’s cheeks until she stops pretending to ignore him or touching foreheads and promising everything will be alright or playing intricate handgames at recess because no one else will play with them or tapping out messages in their own mortified morse code or- it could go on forever. It should have.

-Do Not Mistake Their Undying Dependency On Each Other As A Lack Of The Ablity To Throw Hands, however. They would roughhouse, and they were visious. They would bite and pull hair and pinch and get close to each others ears to make high pitched noises and tickle and tumble on the dirt. They didn’t even need a real reason- or at least not one Minato could see. There would be a glint in one of their eyes, and then a flash of fear in the other’s, and it would start with no further warning.

-It didn’t matter where, it didn’t matter when. In public. At dinner. While Minato is in the middle of talking. Rain, snow, hail. Usually not on missions, thankfully, but worryingly often on the way back from missions. Kakashi still breaks into an anxious cold sweat everytime he goes to Suna, a ghost of the memory of the first time Obito and Rin saw the dessert remembered with surprising clarity. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

-Like wolf pups, Minato once said, and Kakashi didn’t talk to him for a week- wolves would never be so undignified. Rin would lick Obito to throw him off and Obito would use his inhumanely boney elbows to stab her (weapons were always discarded for these scruff- they weren’t spars, they were personal) and she would fling dirt into his mouth and he would spit it back into her eyes. They were disgusting. 

-If they worked together and fought half as dirty with Kakashi as they did with eachother, he would have had a bad time. But, somehow, there was just. Something that made them go rabid on each other in a way Minato was never able to fully provoke in them, even mid-war.

-(it’s the Cain Instinct.)

-They were of the naive but firm belief that they would never be without the other, and, horrifically, most could see it was true. Not because they were strong or because the world was too kind to kill one and leave the other- it was just so blatantly obvious that, should one of them leave, the other would follow without hesitation.

-Even Minato was resigned to the fact that if one of them died the other was just a ticking time bomb, despite all his efforts.

-(and he did make an effort. He knew there was a slim chance their story would end well, the way it was. Knew that codependent shinobi were liabilities. He tried to get them to spend time alone and practice more bounderies and make connections outside of each other, but it rarely worked and never for long. They got anxious and twitchy alone, constantly worried about the other. Obito reapplied Rin’s seals when she couldn’t and Rin taught him to get away with petty revenges, and they were all each other had.)

-But, because of this, they were convinced that if one of them was good at something the other didn’t really need to bother with it- expended effort, when they’re both right there anyway. Unless it was fun to practice together, of course, mostly encompassing Taijutsu. 

-Rin did Fuinjutsu, Obito did Genjutsu. Rin started Iryouninjutsu, Obito started Kenjutsu. Rin practiced Suiton and Raiton, Obito practiced Katon and Doton. they balanced each other out, kept each other grounded- they completed each other. It felt like they only had each other, more often then not, and sometimes it was true.

-When they were younger, it was always true. They were both orphans by 7. Rin’s mom died in childbirth, her dad stayed around long enough to teach her how to stay alive and how her Kekkei Genkai worked as far as he could remember, but She was a born citizen of Konoha and the village wouldn’t let go of a potential asset, and he couldn’t stay in the village that let his village get destroyed and his wife die. He left her. Obito’s parents were both Shinobi that disappeared mysteriously and were never seen again.

-Gran tried, but she was old and blind and could barely remember Obito half the time. In the end, it was the two of them against the world.

-The Uchiha didn’t care, besides the minor annoyance at Rin entering their compound so often, but. She was Uzushio, and the clan heads were close to the Uzumaki, which basically meant they weren’t allowed to bully an Uzushio clan kid. Obito’s Gran was just happy he had a friend. 

-Rin remembered something her Dad told her, and gives Obito a Nohara Seal-Tattoo on the inside of his right wrist, making him an honorary member by the laws of her clan that doesn’t really exist anymore and has literally no significance or benefit in the village. He cries anyway.

-They pretty much always sleep together. Sleepovers are nightly by the time they turn 8. by the time they’re 9, they make a paranoid habit of taking turns on watch. By the time they’re 10, they are outright offended when Minato tries to insist Rin gets her own tent because she’s a ‘growing young lady’ and ‘please Kushina will kill me’. 

-They have a secret code. and by ‘a secret code’ I mean several secret codes. Minato figured most of them out. Kakashi did not. It’s a point of pride.

-Despite everyone’s constant objections, Rin somehow always ended up in the middle of a fight, slipping behind Obitio’s back and making up for his defects as easily as breathing. Kakashi always berated her- she was the Med NIn! If she got hurt or killed, they didn’t have anyone to heal her!

-She did not care. She understood, and sometimes felt a little bad about it, but did not care. ‘you join combat for emergencies only’ they insisted, and her automatic response was simple: If Obito is in danger, then it’s an emergency.

-Minato dropped it pretty quickly and instead just focused on training her to be as murder-resistant as possible- sometimes he knew a losing battle when he saw it. 

-Kakashi never dropped it until one day he activates her Cain Instinct and she paralyzes him for 8 hours with the med-nin fighting style she was inventing because she was terrifying.

-And I haven’t even touched on them both being trans and supporting eachother through that, and I omitted 600 words about their first kills and biggest fight ever! I could talk about team minato forever god bless

-Sure, Obito got a crush on Rin at somepoint, but that wasn’t the defining part of their relationship. He didn’t go crazy because Rin didn’t like him back, or because she liked Kakashi. He went crazy because she died. She was the most important person in the world to him, his soulmate, platonic or not.

-Obito ‘died’, and Rin self destructed. She was ashamed of it but, really, she only lived on as long as she did after kanabi because she knew Obito would want her too. She couldn’t look kakashi in the eyes. She had several heart attacks because her seals would fade, and she would refuse to tell anyone else how to do them. 

-She wrote entire notebooks of things she would tell him when she died so she didn’t forget a thing, stepped around shamrocks like they were posion ivy. Her hair was uncut. She never joined a fight. She killed squirrels on sight with a flash of morbid humor and greif, and still wouldn’t explain why, and she’d rather sit on the floor then in a folding chair. 

-Kakashi didn’t want to admit it, couldn’t admit it, even to himself, for years, maybe decades, but in the last few months of her life Rin wasn’t alive. She tried, so hard, for Kakashi’s sake, but she wasn’t. She was a shell of her former self, more impulsive, less quick to smile, more cynical then he thought she would ever be.

-Rin died, and Obito stopped existing. It only made sense- who was he without Rin? 

-No one. He was a blank slate, melted down so Madara could form him anew. He became Madara and  Tobi and The Masked Man and a Clan Killer, but he would never be Obito again, because there was no Obito without Rin.

-Losing one another wasn’t like losing a limb. It wasn’t like having a part of their soul ripped out. It was nothing so mild. It was losing themself. It was having their soul souls beaten bloodily, shredded, and then disappear without a trace.

-everyone was right, in the end, about them. A tragedy waiting to happen. Terminally codependant. Minato said that once one died, the other was a ticking time bomb, and he was right. He just wished he wasn’t.

....Anyway yeah next time I see someone whine about how its pathetic that Obito tried to destroy the world because his school girl crush died like hes some Incel throwing a fit, I'll go feral.

[magpiemorality]

Patton & Deceit, A Simple Favour. Part 5

The Muf-finale! Set immediately before the Can LYING Be Good?! video.

One Two Three Four Five AO3

***

It was morning and the house was quiet. Thomas hadn't slept too well the night before and they'd all been up late dealing with the impending issue, which left Patton yawning and rubbing his eyes, still in his teddy-bear patterned pyjamas when he wandered down to start breakfast that morning. He was wondering if today would end up being Thomas's breaking point and subsequent filming day, and if so what he could offer to help, and whether or not he was a bad person. Yeah there was currently a lot going on for Patton to work through...

Which was why it took him a full minute to notice the plate on the table as he wandered around the kitchen getting himself a cup of coffee.

Patton stopped abruptly, mug in hand, staring at the odd sight; there on the table was a selection of the muffins he distinctly remembered making along with Deceit only a couple of days before, all eight decorated beautifully and differently. A card lay on top of them- not addressed to anybody- and Patton was willing to bet that it and the muffins were meant for him. Only one other side had previously taken advantage of his early morning routine, and this was entirely his style.

It was weird though, why save the muffins until now? Why decorate them so well after struggling so much when they'd tried before? And also how on earth had Deceit managed to dress them up like this in the end?

What was he playing at this time?

Patton picked up the card, turning it over a couple of times to check that the message was the only thing written there. The card simply read, 'muff-enjoy them', which only served to further Patton's surety that Deceit had intended them for him and him alone. He was annoyed that he actually kinda loved the pun, but reasoned that of course Deceit would know exactly how to win him over; so it was okay to, well, be a little won over. He set the card aside and picked one of the muffins up, admiring the delicate piped roses and the little fondant hearts on top of it. Another had his heart and glasses symbol drawn in little silver edible balls, and a third was topped with a marzipan puppy face. They were pretty sweet, actually.

Maybe it was all just the offering it appeared to be? Patton rubbed his arm absently, considering his options carefully and coming up with nothing overly nefarious. The likelihood of poison was low, considering both that he'd actually been there when they were made- and sure maybe the toppings were suspicious but he could easily avoid those- and also the fact that it was very much not in Deceit's own personal interests to off Patton, or indeed any other side. Pretty firmly against the self-preservation M.O., that.

They looked perfectly normal. They smelled...

Oh gosh, they smelled divine.

The first one was gone before he'd even consciously registered that he'd made the decision to eat them, and the second followed hot on its heels. They were unbelievably addictive, full of the nostalgia of muffins past and the sweetness of a thousand happy memories, and he couldn't stop once he'd started, barely able to enjoy each one, eating his way through half of the stack in only a few minutes. He started to feel odd, and dimly alarm bells rang. Something was wrong, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't stop and why had he eaten so many of them so quickly why wasn't he stopping why couldn't he stop-

Patton whimpered softly, staring in horror at the final muffin as his fingers reached for it without his say so, trembling as he tried hard to stop them from moving. There was a brief moment when it seemed like maybe he'd break out of the spell and manage to stop himself, and his jaw clenched with the effort.

But then, from behind him, there came the sound of soft footsteps. His eyes widened but his head wouldn't turn and he couldn't do anything more than softly whimper again as a gloved hand slipped under his elbow and along the underside of his arm, helping guide it by the wrist to the plate and then up to his mouth. The final muffin went down slowly, bite by agonising bite, and took Patton's consciousness with it, vision fading steadily to black until he swayed and fell back into Deceit's waiting arms.

"There we go," Deceit murmured as he hefted Patton up into a bridal carry and flicked his fingers to disappear the plate and card, before whisking the unconscious side up to his room and tucking him into bed carefully. His face was drawn, conflict between triumph and guilt warring visibly over his features.

He swallowed thickly as he looked down at Patton, peacefully asleep in his room of pastel dreams, stroking the bangs off his face so they wouldn't tickle his eyelids while he slept. "I'm sorry," Deceit whispered as guilt won out. "It was the only way- I just want to see him, just once, with my own eyes like you get to. I want to know he's looking at me, even if he doesn't know me, and you'd never say yes if I asked permission so-" he sighed, short and frustrated. "I guess I'll just have to beg your forgiveness when you wake up instead. God you're going to be so angry..."

Patton's room hummed with the undercurrent of voices from all the memories stored inside it, and Deceit drew in on himself, glancing around nervously. He knew the threat memories could hold within all too well. "I don't know why I'm bothering to tell you any of this anyway, you can't hear me. I'm just another voice among the rest in here."

He stood and turned away, morphing into Patton over the course of the few steps it took him to reach the door, where he paused and glanced back one last time. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, lifting his head up high and stepping out into the mindscape with a big smile and a jaunty walk, humming to himself.

Little did Deceit know that far from the quick wish fulfilment he'd hoped for it to be; that day's filming session would be a dramatic and unexpected reveal, one no one (least of all him) was prepared for. Thomas would be fundamentally changed by the events that were about to unfold, and self-preservation was going to have his work cut out for him in the days and months that were to follow... Entirely unintentionally.

It was only meant to be a simple favour, after all.