#I doubt anyone's been waiting for this chapter but oh well

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡

Day 31 : Trick Or Teat

【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.

『Word count』 :  7.01k

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader] 

[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.

I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡

Check out the mini series masterlist -> [Here]

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two

The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.

Vampires.

You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.

You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.

"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.

Why, you may ask?

Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.

"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."

His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.

"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.

“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.

“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.

“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.

“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.

-

Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.

What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.

“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.

You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.

You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.

-

This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.

His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”

His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.

A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”

Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.

“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.

You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.

“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”

Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.

He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”

His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”

The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”

You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.

A blood sucking vampire.

You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….

“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.

-

Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—

"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.

"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...

"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.

So there's three of them that live here?

"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.

"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.

He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."

You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."

"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."

You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."

Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”

Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”

Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.

There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.

-

Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.

Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.

“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.

“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.

And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.

“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.

“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.

“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.

“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.

“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?

“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.

“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.

“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?

“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.

“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.

“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”

His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.

“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.

“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…

“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.

“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.

“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.

“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.

-

The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.

“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.

“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.

“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”

“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”

You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”

“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.

“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.

You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.

“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.

“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”

The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”

You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”

“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.

Pathetic human. Digusting pig.

Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.

“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”

Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.”  he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”

The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.

“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.

“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.

He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.

-♥︎

[avocad1s]

Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Chapter Summary: Lumine tells the False Creator some fabricated news. You are confronted by the Prince.

Characters Mentioned: Multiple Characters Mentioned

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned. I would also say this deals with slight Yandere themes as well!

Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Part Three Part Four (You are here!) Part Five

I’ve re-read this multiple times but I think if I read it again I’ll grow to hate it and delete so I’m just gonna post it

Even with the moonlight spilling through the campsite, you could hardly make out the features of his face. His grip on your hands was firm but not tight enough to cause you any discomfort, it didn’t seem that he was going to let go any time soon.

“Oh how I’ve waited for this…. Waited for you.” He breaths out.

You simply stare at him, not saying a word. Had he been following you this whole time? If so, how come you weren’t alerted to his presence?

His smile drops at your silence, “don’t be alarmed Your Grace. I have no intention of hurting you! I just want to talk for now.”

He looks behind him for a moment, as if he were looking out for someone, perhaps Yelan. Once he looks back, his smile and soft gaze return.

His tone is unbelievably sweet. You could feel his hands shaking, and based of his demeanor, you assume it was due to excitement. Even if he was trying his best not to show it.

“I’m Aether.” He introduces, smile never fading.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Your Grace” He replies, “I need your help. Khaenri'ah needs you.”

You raise your brow, “Khaenri'ah?”

He nods eagerly, “I am going to restore your nation back to its former glory, and now that you’re here, I have no doubts that we can bring it back.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, “you’re not of this world, why do you care about some ancient nation from five hundred years ago?”

His closes his eyes for a moment, “you’re right. I’m not from this world, but I’ve been here since that nation stood tall and I got to experience everything it had to offer. Everything you had made.”

He caresses the back of your hands with his thumbs, “Your Grace… when you returned to Teyvat few days ago, we in the Abyss we’re immediately aware of your presence. I tried so hard to find you, and I’m mad that I didn’t find you first. I should be the only one allowed to help you, only I know the truth of this world.”

“The truth of this world?”

Aether pulls you to stand up with him, “I know this may be hard to hear, but please listen to me.”

You could feel the anxiety crawl up your back as you wait for him to continue talking. You’ve been so blindsided by the False Creator that anything else that happened in Teyvat wasn’t a concern for you at the moment.

“The archons are taking advantage of your kindness,” he begins, “your world is becoming corrupted because of them. Teyvat never had this many monsters on it before, and it’s all their doing.”

You pull your hands away from his grip, his eyes widen but he lets go. “I know how it may sound but I would never lie to you Your Grace.”

You cross your arms looking away from him, “this is a lot to take in. Are you trying to tell me that I cannot trust my own Archons?”

He shakes his head, “I would never tell you what you can and can’t do, I’m just telling you do not be blinded because you know them from the past. It’s been centuries, they can change.”

Aether reaches out to grab your hands again, you put up no fight as he laces his fingers with yours and he smiles gently. “Come with me Your Grace. Together, we can get rid of the fake you on the throne and make Teyvat whole again. The Abyss will welcome you with open arms.”

“I’m not letting them go anywhere with you.”

Behind Aether, Yelan was holding a few sticks in her hand, but you could tell she would drop them at any moment if she had to go on the defense.

“You know for someone who doesn’t want anyone to know they’re on Teyvat, a lot of people keep finding you, Your Grace.” She teases.

Aether gives Yelan a death glare but makes no attempt to unlace your hands, “you cannot protect Their Grace like I can and how dare you talk to them like that?

She scoffs at his words, “I’m letting them go anywhere with someone from- what did you say?- oh right, the Abyss. You hate humanity. Their Grace will stay here where they belong.”

He scowls but brings his attention back to you, “it seems that we are already out of time.” He lets go of your hands reaching into his pocket to hand you a particular flower. “The next time we meet, I will not allow anyone to interrupt us… and I hope that you join me in the future.”

He turns around shoving his way past the girl walking off into the darkness.

“If we have to collect fire wood later I’ll take you with me, it’s too dangerous for you to be alone.” Yelan states taking a few steps toward you before dropping the sticks on the ground. “You Grace, just like with the Fatui, the Abyss cannot be trusted. I would even say they are more dangerous, whoever that man was, you should stay far away from him.”

You say nothing staring at the flower in your hand, you recognized it’s origins the second you saw it, the flower was from Khaenri'ah. Was this his way of telling you that everything he said was the truth, that he actually was around before and during the destruction of the nation. You bring the flower close to your chest closing your eyes.

“Erm, Your Grace?”

You jump at the sound of her voice, “sorry I’m just a little distracted.”

She gives you a reassuring smile, “don’t pay any mind to whatever he said. He was probably just trying to trick you and use your powers to destroy humanity.

Yelan kneels down fixing the sticks to build a fire. Even though you nod at her explanation you couldn’t help but feel relieved that she didn’t hear everything he had told you. Trying to explain the fall of a nation that no one should know existed anymore would be impossible, especially since you still had questions about it yourself.

“Here let me do it.” You kneel down using the Pyro element to light a small fire on the wood.

Both of you sit in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, but your mind kept going back to everything Aether had told you, was he telling you the truth? Or should you believe Yelan who said that he just wanted your power for the destruction of humanity.

“You should try getting some sleep Your Grace.” Yelan whispers, “I’ll keep watch over you.”

The overwhelming sense of fatigue washes over you, “are you sure?” You ask. She nods, “Of course, I would never forgive myself if something were to happen while you’re with me and I don’t think anyone else would forgive me either. The last thing I need is two Adepti mad at me. Please sleep.”

With that final reassurance you let yourself relax in the soft grass, the ancient flower Aether gave you laid by your side as you stare up at the stars. You couldn’t help but wonder how many more people were after you. The Fatui, the Abyss, and probably the Archons as well since the Gnosis alerted your presence to them.

You let out a breath closing your eyes. Wondering who you could possibly run into next.

A few days ago, Sumeru City

“Lumine you’ve returned, but you don’t have who I asked for…”

A few hours after Lumine and Nahida split away from the true Creator, they returned to Sumeru City. Nahida entered Irminsul like she said she would and now Lumine stood in front of the False One like before. Yet it felt different this time, if she were to mess up it wouldn’t just be her life at risk, many others were counting on her as well. The real Creator was counting on her.

The Traveler bows stiffly at them, “I have some… news regarding the task you gave me.”

They told their head at her statement sitting up straight in their throne. “Well, what is it? Don’t tell me they got away.”

“No Your Grace, it isn’t that. I managed to locate the individual I told you about. When I told them to come with me I guess they got suspicious that I was going to bring them back here and they took off running. While I was pursuing them, they fell off a ledge and…”

“Are you telling me that they are dead?”

Lumine, who was still bowing, nods a bit. “Yes, I checked myself.”

The False Creator lifts themselves of the throne walking slowly down the staircase until they stood right in front of the girl. They grip her chin lightly bringing her gaze to meet theirs.

“And where is their body now?”

“I pushed it into the river… I assumed since they look like you, no one else should see them.”

They smile, “how smart of you, but I’m still disappointed. All of amazing stories I’ve heard about you and you couldn’t do one thing I asked of you. I’m disappointed…”

Lumine swallows trying to keep her composure, she hadn’t felt this terrified since she had seen the defiled Statue of the Seven.

They let go of her chin crossing their arms behind their back, “now what should I do with you, Traveler? Can I trust you?”

“Yes your Grace! I will never tell anyone about this…”

They nod at her declaration, “don’t worry I trust you, but I can’t help but get a bit paranoid at times. So I hope you understand why I have to do this.”

“Do what?” She asks.

“Guards!” They call out and almost immediately a dozen Sumeru guards enter the room bowing as they await their orders.

“Take her and the fairy away. They’ll be staying in Sumeru for a little longer.”

The guards waste no time surrounding the Traveler pulling them away from the False Creator, Lumine tries to fight them off but there was too many of them.

“Don’t worry.” They say a smirk on their face, “I have no intention of hurting you or your companion, but I cannot risk this information getting out to any else in Teyvat.”

The Traveler is pulled out the room without another word the last thing she heard is the False Creator asking one of the guards to find Nahida immediately.

In Liyue, present day

“Wake up sleepyhead…” a voice sings.

A groan leaves your mouth as you turn over.

“Do I have to throw water on you? C’mon time to wake up!”

You open your eyes and your met with a kneeling Yelan who smiles at you.

“Ah, there’s those beautiful eyes.” She coos, “it’s time get moving if you want to make it to Liyue Harbor before sunset.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes, “you let me sleep through the whole night? Aren’t you tired?”

“You looked exhausted. Don’t worry about me Your Grace, I’ll be fine.”

Yelan holds her hand out to help you stand and you accept rising to your feet. Not without grabbing your flower first.

“Are you going to keep that?” She asks.

You look down at it, “well it is beautiful.”

“Alright,” she hums stomping out the campfire, “you ready to leave?”

You nod, “let’s go.”

Somewhere else in Liyue

The eleventh Fatui Harbinger was looking for someone.

It was supposed to be a close kept secret between him, the Tsaritsa, and the other Harbingers but he had accidentally slipped and told some of the soldiers under his command due to his anxiousness.

That slip up might’ve cost him what he was looking for.

He stares coldly at the few soldiers that kneeled at his feet, they were the ones he had sent to the Chasm.

“Lord Harbinger! Please forgive us!” One of them cry.

“We had no idea someone was listening to what we were saying.”

He scoffs at their excuses, “you’ve heard the saying about Liyue, there are ears everywhere. If you were under the command of any of my comrades they would waste no time in killing you.”

They tense up, even thought their eyes wasn’t visible due to their masks, they made no effort to meet his gaze.

“You’re lucky that I am in a good mood but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Find that woman.” He waves his hand and they take off.

When he and the other Harbingers witnessed the glowing of the gnosis, it had cleared many doubts he had about what the Tsaritsa was thinking.

To clarify, his doubts were about the Creator. Or rather, the False One.

The Fake Creator had been on Teyvat way before Childe was born so as he grew up with his parents had told him all the amazing things they had done.

Then he fell into the Abyss and that’s when he first encountered the idea that the one on the throne wasn’t who they claimed to be. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind putting his focus on his family until he joined the Fatui.

In the Fatui is when he was reintroduced to The Creator not being, well, The Creator. Now it wasn’t something he could just push away, he actually wanted to know if it was the truth or not. The Tsaritsa explained to him that if they collect all seven Gnosis they can summon the real Creator back to Teyvat.

So when the Jester sent him to Liyue to collect Rex Lapis Gnosis, he jumped at the opportunity.

“Lord Harbinger…” a timid voice says, “we had located the woman.”

“And?”

“You were right, they are with her.”

“Lead me there.”

-

They were right. His soldiers were right.

A few meters up ahead he could see them and the woman he instantly recognized to be Yelan. She had popped up on the Fatui’s radar years ago due to her… persuasive methods of learning Fatui secrets from the lower ranks.

It felt as if he was frozen to the ground, he never expected to find you in Liyue. He believed someone else would’ve been the one to find you, but no, it was him.

He felt so lucky, he was going to be the first Harbinger you’d talk to.

-

“…and that’s how I got this jacket.”

You laugh a bit, “well aren’t you a sneaky one?”

“You’re right, she’s always sticking her nose in business that doesn’t involve her.” Childe smiles directly at you as Yelan puts her arm up in front of you defensively.

“I knew we’d run into you, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

Childe laughs, “well I hope you don’t mind me taking Their Grace off your hands then?”

Yelan’s eyes narrow, “Their Grace isn’t something you Fatui can just take as your own. They are going with me.”

He rolls his eyes at her directing his attention to you, “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa has been waiting for you for a long time Your Grace. Come with me to Snezhnaya.”

Yelan looks back at you, “Don’t listen to him. This is the Fatui Harbinger Childe that I told you about. His motives are unknown.”

You look at the Yelan then at Childe.

“We in the Fatui would never hurt our Creator.” He states.

“What does Snezhnaya even have to offer Their Grace?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He argues.

“Both of you stop fighting!” You say suddenly causing both of them to look over at you. “What does the Tsaritsa want from me?”

His dull eyes light up at your question, “Her Majesty believes she knows where the False Creator comes from. So as soon as you made your presence known, we began searching for you.”

You step closer to him despite Yelans warnings.

“She found out where the False Creator came from?”

Childe nods, “please come to Snezhnaya with me Your Grace. The False Creator is the reason you returned, right?”

“You’re right.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste anymore time.” He clasps his hands together.

You turn giving Yelan reassuring smile, “Yelan. Thank you so much for your help up until this point, and I will never forget everything you’ve told me but I have to go with him. If whatever the Tsaritsa knows is right, that could change everything.”

She nods bitterly, “if you must go, allow me to come with you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

You reach out grabbing her hand, “That’s sweet of you but I can’t. Even if I needed protection I can tell that he is way too powerful for you to defeat on your own. I promise that I will return to Liyue.”

She hold your hand tightly, “alright then. I’ll wait for your return.”

And with that, You leave Yelan alone as you walk off with Childe.

“How are we getting to Snezhnaya?” You ask.

“By boat, it’s waiting for us right outside Liyue Harbor.”

“Right outside?” You raise a brow.

He laugh a bit, “Well people from Snezhnaya aren’t welcome in other nations anymore. It would’ve drawn unnecessary attention us if we anchored at the dock, and I doubt the Liyue Qixing would let us be there anyway.”

You suppose his explanation made sense, he wasn’t the only person to tell you how unwelcomed Snezhnaya was in other nations.

“Your Grace,” Childe says after a moment of silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, it’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

He keep walking but stares at you, “what did Yelan tell you? About the Fatui I mean.”

“She told me that you all have done terrible things and how a few years ago you all had an unprecedented amount of power in every nation.”

He hums, “I see…”

It falls silent once more, as you both continue walking towards the nation of Geo.

-

A few hours after you had split with Yelan and decided to join the Fatui Harbinger Childe, you two (and the rested of his crew that trailed behind you) arrived at Liyue. All you had to do was walk across the bridge and you’d be in the Harbor.

However Liyue Harbor wasn’t your destination anymore.

Right off to the side of the bridge was a fairly large sized boat, Childe leads you to the hatch allowing you to step on first then he follows.

“The trip to the Zapolyarny Palace is only a few hours,” He explains, “but you’re going to need this when we get there.”

Childe digs through a chest pulling out a luxurious coat, it was made out of the finest materials Teyvat had to offer.

“One of my comrades had this custom made just for you. Well actually he had way more than one made so no matter who had encountered you first, you would have something to keep you warm once we enter Snezhnaya.”

You take the coat from him, the second the material touches your fingers you could tell how expensive it was. There was an insane amount of care and respect put into making this.

“That is very sweet of him,” you mutter, “I should thank him once we arrive.”

He lets out a sigh resting his head in his palm muttering to himself, “it will only go to his head…”

You want to laugh at his comment but decide you should pretend you didn’t hear him. Looking out to sea, your mind finally fills with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Even though Childe told you that the Cryo archon figured out where the False Creator came from, you kept thinking about what Aether told you the night before.

Should you trust the Archons? Was the Tsaritsa leading you to Snezhnaya with a Trojan Horse? Or was it Aether that was lying to you.

You try to shake the thoughts out of your head, it would only be a few hours before you know for sure.

An unknown location in Sumeru City

It had been days since Lumine had been thrown into this dungeon. It wasn’t the same place the Sages had put her a year ago, it was probably a precaution so that none of her Akademiya friends found her.

“Traveler” Paimon whines, “what are we gonna do?”

Lumine brings her knees to her chest, “I don’t know Paimon. No one knows we are here, we have no way to reach out to the Creator or Nahida.

The fairy flys around sadly for a moment before her eyes widen, “wait a second! Why don’t you try reaching out to Nahida in your dreams.”

Lumine picks her head up, “you’re so smart Paimon! Maybe not using you as emergency food was a good idea.”

Paimon scoffs, “this is not the time for joking around! And for the last time, Paimon is not emergency food!”

The Traveler moves to lays down on her back steadying her breathing as she closes her eyes. Soon enough, she falls into a light slumber trying to the best of her ability to reach out to the Dendro Archon.

..

“…Nahida…?”

“Lumine…?” A familiar voice says, “I can hear you, where are you?”

“The False Creator. They locked me in some dungeon.”

“That’s horrible, did they not believe you?”

“No, I think they believed me… did you find anything in Irminsul?”

“Yes… it’s horrible… I’ve been searching for you everywhere to tell you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“The False Creator… they were created by Celestia.”

Note: this part took way longer to put out than the others, but I just want to say thank you so much for all the love on this series and for all the follows and reblogs you all have given me. I never expected this story to do so well!! :’)

And I know, I know, many people have maybe Celestia the enemy in SAGAU (be cuz they are) but I just trust me :>

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

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[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FIVE: GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY

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SUMMARY ↳ Spider-Man and homecoming, when did that ever end well? He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?” You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said. “Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: fear gas (people get affected but it's not described), spiking drinks (not with the intention of taking advantage of anyone) wc: 5.9k

Your mind is elsewhere as you perform your warm-up stretches in the dance studio. Progress with the particle accelerator had been slow. Tony Stark had access to all the materials he needed when he built it, but you don’t. Not to mention all of the welding, cutting and assembling you’ll have to do. You're occupied in your thoughts, but you still hear footsteps approaching.

Victoria. She has her hands on her hips and is looking at you like you’re the nasty chore she’s stuck with.

You raise a brow. “Yes, Vicky?”

Despite all of her faces of disgust when you call her that, she hasn’t demanded you stop calling her that.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be paying attention, clearly you are too airheaded otherwise,” she huffs.

“You’re right, dearest, I wasn’t paying attention. Please, enlighten me.”

“Our instructor has just announced a winter performance. For a grade, of course.”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“We,” she drags the word out, disgruntled, “are the leads.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh. This’ll be fun.”

“I will not let you embarrass me, so I will make sure you are a suitable lead,” she huffs.

“And how do you plan to do that, my dear?” you sing, circling her. Your fingers tap her arms as you walk.

She clears her throat. “I will make sure you are paying well attention and are performing adequately.”

“Sounds good to me, princess,” you say, walking away and extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

She sighs dramatically and puts her hand in yours. It’ll be a long couple of months.

Your extended leg rocks your web hammock back and forth as you think. A song is hummed under your breath, pondering your next move.

“How far is Metropolis from Gotham?”

“Depending on your method of travel, it could range from an hour to 4 hours.”

You have no doubt LexCorp is very well protected in terms of its security measures, but Lex Luther seems a bit of an arrogant man. If he were to find out you had managed to break in and swipe some material, he might not do anything in embarrassment of being had. On the other hand, he is also pretty paranoid, so you have no idea what type of crazy defenses he has.

WayneTech is a very hesitant maybe, for pretty much the same reasons. Batman will already be on alert from your little hacking show earlier.

“Perhaps we shall simply wait for the opportunity to present itself to us, [Name].”

“We’re trying to leave as soon as we can, K,” you whine, bouncing a web ball back and forth between the wall and you.

“You can’t rush perfection.”

“Oh, you flatter me, K.” You lean over and fall out of the hammock, landing gracefully. “But I can never argue with you, lovely. I guess I’ll just have to make due with stuff from the school.” Hopefully they don’t notice the decline of materials.

Patrol goes smoothly that night. You've gone back to listening to your certified patrol playlist now that you’ve gotten back in the groove of things. You hum to a beat as you walk alongside the roof, grooving slightly. You run through equations and formulas in your head as you think about your next headway with your project. You still notice the footsteps approaching, though.

“Which one are you?” you announce, shifting slightly. You don’t get an answer, so you turn around. The figure standing behind you is shrouded in darkness, but a glint of moonlight reveals a familiar silhouette.

“Nightwing!” you hum pleasantly. “Pleasure, quite a pleasure. To what do I owe the visit?”

Nightwing shrugs. “Standard stuff, really. Making sure Gothams latest pest problem isn’t up to no good.”

You chuckle. “That was pretty good.” You sit down on the ledge. “I assure you, blue, that I have Gotham’s best interest in mind.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Gotham likes you, for the most part.” Nightwing sits next to you. “Of course, the webs you leave irk them just a bit.”

“They dissolve,” you defend.

“They do,” he agrees, and lets the conversation die. Distant sounds of sirens fill the silence. You can see the blue and red lights from here. You and Nightwing share a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Every time I think Gotham can’t get any weirder, I hear news of a ‘giant spider’ terrorizing the criminal underworld.”

You snort, “yeah, that was my bad. I totally had rumors spread about that.” You can see his eyebrow raise underneath his domino. “It was funny!”

“I guess Gotham attracts all kinds of people,” he hums.

“And yet… it’s home,” you whisper.

Another brief silence settled between you, tinged with unspoken tension that always sneaks up on you in Gotham.

“So, did the big Bat put you up to this?” you ask, breaking the quietude.

Nightwing shrugs casually. “Nah, this is all me. Don’t worry though, I’m sure B will corner you eventually.”

“Charming,” you huff dryly against his chuckle.

“And of course, crime never sleeps in Gotham.”

“And so, neither do we,” you smile.

He turns to you. “Surely someone as young as you should be getting more sleep?”

You hum. “So Robin told you about little ole me, huh?” He shrugs sheepishly, in a can you blame him? kind of way. “Like I told him, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“So what’s a young person like you doing spending your nights fighting crime?”

You scoff, “oh, don’t give me that. The first Robin was barely out of diapers when Batman paraded him around.” You ignore Nightwings dramatic gasp of offense. “I’m doing the same as you, trying to make a difference.”

“But no one would blame you for just trying to live a normal life in spite of your abilities.” You’re not sure what exactly Nightwing is trying to achieve here other than getting you to spill something about yourself. What’s it to him what you do in your free time?

‘Yeah well, someone once told me something. Kind of changed my life a little.” You take a deep breath and recite the famous spidey quote, “With great power comes great responsibility.” You turn to face Nightwing. “I can’t in good faith live a normal life when there are people that need me. I have the power to help people, why wouldn’t I do just that?”

You hope your speech passes whatever test he had for you, and the way he stares at you before nodding suggests that you did.

“Just…” he hesitates. “... be careful out there. Gotham’s a tough place, even for someone with your talents.”

You’re not sure why he cares so much, but Dick Grayson does have a sort of a bleeding heart. You watch Nightwing stand, nodding at you before grappling away. It was nice to not have a more violent encounter with one of the Bats (looking at you, Damian). You’re left with the quiet of your own mind.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of dance rehearsals and lab work. Victoria, true to her word, pushes you hard. She ensures every step, every movement is perfect. You can’t help but admire her dedication.

“Remember,” she snaps one day during a particularly grueling practice, “lean into the spin. It will further your momentum, making your performance overall smoother.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you smirk. Your classmates take notice of the way the two of you dance around each other. You’re sure you both appear really intense to them.

One new development you’ve reluctantly acknowledged is homecoming . You don’t care much for it, you’d rather spend it working on the badassium or patrolling. However, it’s a good way to sneak in and take some more material, so you’ll probably show up for a bit then sneak away. You just have to get through all of the sickeningly sweet hoco proposals.

In other news, you’ve finished your painting that you were assigned for art. You stole one of Miles’ designs from his spray-paint pieces, you hope he won’t mind. It’s a figure outlined many times in all kinds of vivid and bright colors.

“What is it?” Pipes up Damian from your side. Lately you haven’t really interacted much, you’re far too busy trying to make this universe's history books.

“My project,” you reply vaguely. At his unimpressed stare you elaborate, “it’s supposed to be a bunch of different versions of one person. Different people living the same life, one person living different lives, yadda yadda.”

Damian hums, satisfied. You take a breath, spinning in your chair to face him. “So, Damian,” you start, smiling at the way Damian’s face automatically scrunches in irritation. “Anyone special in mind for hoco?”

Damian tsk’s at the thought. “I will not waste my time indulging in such a frivolous activity.”

“Yeah, spiked punch and sweaty teens grinding on each other probably isn’t your vibe,” you agree.

“Then what better things do you plan on doing?” You rest your legs on his side of the table, invading his space. He ignores it, to his credit. He’s gotten used to your antics.

“Doing something far away from you.” You bark out a laugh at his response. You retract your legs and massage your feet. For all your super strength and resilience, ballet is still killer.

Damian eyes your movements. “How are your dance classes progressing?” Damian’s gotten better at conversing, you’re just surprised he chooses to do so with you. But then again, you’re sure he still thinks you’re the number one suspect as to who Spinnerette is.

“Victoria is a delight, as always,” you roll your eyes. “She’s more of a teacher to me than the actual instructor. She’s thorough though, knows her stuff.” You pause. “Think she’ll say yes if I ask her to hoco?”

His eyes narrow. “You jest.”

You close your eyes and nod. “I jest. I stand no chance because she’s waiting for you to ask her,” you grin, eyeing his eye roll. You furrow your brow in thought. “They accept people from other schools, right? Maybe I’ll ask Jon…”

He straightens in his seat. “Jon?”

“Oh yeah, you guys are friends, forgot.” You didn’t forget. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out lately.” It’s true, Jon frequents at least once a week for movie night. You’ve also exchanged numbers, affectionately naming him ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’ in your phone. “You think he’d say yes?”

“Do not even think about asking him,” growls Damian. Woah.

You hold up your hands in defense. “My bad dude, didn’t know it was like that.” Jeez, it’s not like you're going to corrupt Jon or anything. Then, you slump in your seat. “Maybe I’ll just skip it, then. Going alone is only cool if you’re cool.”

“If it means so little to you, why bother?”

“Opportunities, D. It’s all about opportunities. Plus, who knows? I could be missing out on the chance for something big. Like my rich future spouse.” Damian scoffs, and the bell rings. You grab your stuff and set off to practice, Damian falling into step beside you. You groan.

“Come on, man. Vicky’ll put me through hell when she see you with me.”

‘Maybe that’s my plan,” he smirks.

“One moment of peace with you. That's all I want.” Predictably, Victoria’s eyes narrow when Damian drops you off at the studio. However, she doesn’t waste time fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Hurry, get dressed,” she demands, turning away from you two. You share a look of surprise with Damian as you step inside. Perhaps this show is more important to her than you thought. You get changed in record time, hurrying back out lest you encourage Victoria’s wrath further.

The hour passes in a blur of graceful movements. Your hands grasp Victoria’s waist as you lift and spin her. She spreads her arms and legs with all the elegance of a true dancer. You wonder if she wasn’t set to inherit whatever her parent’s set aside for her, would she have pursued a career in dance?

“You’re getting the hang of it,” she admits, a hint of begrudging approval in her voice.

“Only because of you,” you flirt, smiling with your teeth. She rolls her eyes but says nothing.

A knock sounds on the door. The instructor gets a giddy grin on her face and practically hops over to open in. You and the rest of the students stop practicing in curiosity. Behind the door is your typical jock type, with a bouquet and a poster in his hands that says ‘Will you PLIÉse go to Hoco with me?’ It’s clever, you’ll give him that.

“Victoria Hearst, will you do me the honor of going to homecoming with me?” Your classmates clap and cheer in awe of it. Victoria gasps, walking up to the jock, but pausing. To your huge surprise, she turns to you. Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she’s confused.

You’re not sure why she’s looking at you. Maybe she’s waiting for your approval? You can’t think of why she would want it. Personally you wouldn’t be caught dead with his type, but maybe he’s sweet on the inside or something. You give a smile and gesture her forward.

She purses her lips, before smiling charmingly at the boy, nodding. The class erupts in cheers once again as the pair hug. The instructor, for all her giddiness earlier, quickly snaps at everyone to go back to their places. Practice continues well into the evening. You get a small wave from Victoria when you depart home, a pleasant surprise.

You end up outfit shopping with Jon the day before homecoming. The boutique you’re in isn’t too fancy, even though you can afford more with Bruce Wayne’s ever so gracious stipend.

“Maybe I should wear blue, the same shade as your eyes. I like them,” you mutter, thinking. Nothing here particularly catches your eye. You suppose you shouldn’t care so much, it makes no difference to you. Besides, you won’t be spending much time at the dance anyway, you’ve got material to steal after all. But Tony has instilled the art of appearances into you, and you don’t want to disgrace his teachings.

Jon gulps beside you, still not used to your random flirting's despite the fact it’s been weeks. “I thought you had a thing for hot pink?” he asks as you pick up some simple heeled dress shoes.

“Yeah, but I’m not going for a bold look this time around.” You place your hands on your hips. “Maybe just plain old black is the way to go,” you say, grabbing a black suit off the rack and examining it. You hang it over your arm, deciding that it will be the way to go. It’ll be easier to hide in the crowd when you look like the rest of ‘em. “Now, for accessories…” you mutter, looking at the earrings on display. You pick up some faux emerald studs and examine them.

“I like this ring,” Jon pipes up. You turn around and see he’s holding a simple flowery ring with a blue gemstone in it. You hold out a hand and he slips the band onto your ring finger. It looks at home.

“Looks good,” you agree. You pack up the earrings, ring and the suit and take it to the register. You pay for it and Jon picks up the bag for you. What a gentleman.

The walk back to your apartment is filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Nari greets you when you open the door, meowing real cutely. You press a bunch of kisses on his skull, because he deserves them. Jon places the bag on your couch.

“Well, since I’m not allowed to ask you the hoco, I’ll try it on just for you, yeah?”

Jon blinks. “Not allowed?”

“I mentioned it to Damian, and he made it very clear I was not allowed to take you.” You lean in and whisper in his ear, “between you and me, I think it’s because he wants to ask you.”

Jon snorts. “I doubt that,” he mumbles, watching you go to your bedroom to change. “I would have had to say no anyway, I’m… busy that day.”

“Well, I guess I was saved from an awkward moment,” you holler through the door. You make sure you look clean and put together before stepping out. You spread your arms and do a twirl.

“Well?” you ask.

Jon’s mouth is ever so slightly agape. His eyes seem to sparkle a little as he looks at you. Blue meets blue when he stares at the ring on your finger. You watch as he stands up, walking over to you.

He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?”

You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said.

“Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars.

You chuckle, abashed. He holds out his hand for you, waiting.

“Oh, wait!” you gasp. You dash over to your laptop, opening youtube. Jon watches as your fingers dash over the keyboard. ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ fills your apartment. The song has always reminded you of him. You race back to Jon, finally putting your hand in his. He quickly pulls you close to him.

“Queen?” he chuckles, placing his hands on your waist. You throw your hands over his shoulders, scoffing. “Nothing wrong with Queen.”

“No,” he agrees, swaying with you. You spend the rest of the evening together.

Walking into the academy’s gym, you’re immediately blasted with loud music and colorful lights. Everyone is looking quite dapper, but like you suspected, a bunch of black suits. You fit right in.

You sip a bit of the punch, grimacing. Nobody spiked it yet? You’re surprised. Yeah, this is a prestigious school or whatever, but teenagers will be teenagers. You guess they’re all too pussy to do it. No worries, you’ll do it for them.

“I don’t believe this is wise,” says Karen as you pour some alcohol into the bowl. “It’s only a little amount,” you reassure. “Drunk people are less likely to notice things.”

You observe the people of your school. They’ve long gotten used to your presence, hesitantly making room for you. Still, you aren’t really a part of them. You sigh. You know you sound like a broken record, but you really have to get back home. The last time someone stayed on an Earth not their own was Miguel, and well… you know how that ended.

In other news, you’ve spotted Victoria! She looks real pretty, all dolled up. Her hands grip a cup of punch as she stands next to whats-his-face. He’s chatting with his jock friends, completely ignoring her! Hell no, you’re not gonna let that slide.

You wait for his friends to go away before sneaking up on him. “You better dance with her, asshole.” It’s satisfying to see him jump and look around to see who said that, but you already walked away. He scratches his head, before walking over to Victoria. It’s satisfying to see her face light up as they walk to the dance floor. Your job here is done.

You find your way to the gym doors, peaking into the hallways. No one’s there, surprisingly. You scurry down the hall. You visit the lab first, swiping any and all things you think you might need. The blueprints left behind by Howard Stark are kind of obscure. They weren’t meant for anybody but Tony, after all.

Next you make headway to your engineering workshop. Seeing it now, it looks pretty spooky without the lights on. You walk into the storage closet where all the materials and parts are kept. It’s actually pretty big. You think you might be in Heaven. You set your backpack down and go through everything. You stuff various metals and scrap into it, tools and switches, fans and whatnot. Then, you spot it. A glass chamber, hidden in the corner.

You grab it carefully, examining it. It’s the perfect size for your nanite chamber! You grin. You have no idea why there’s a big glass tube just in here, but hey, you’re not complaining. You carefully make room for it in your bag, hauling it over your shoulder. You poke your head out in the hallway, no one’s there. You sigh, content with your scavenge. Humming under your breath, you make your way out of the school.

behind you right behind you grabbing yOU–!

You turn around quickly, eyes wide. You just looked around, there was no one there! A hand lays outstretched in the air before you. Your eyes travel up the offender's arm and meet green. Damian. Of course.

“I thought you didn’t have time for such frivolous activities,” you blurt, for lack of something better to say. You grip your bag strap tight.

“Who else would keep an eye on you?” he grunts. You coo, “do I attract your eye, then?” Performing a spin, you miss the way he looks you up and down.

He reaches out and flicks your emerald earring. “Tell me why I shouldn’t report you for theft,” he says as he gestures to your bag.

“Because I’m… awesome?” you try. It doesn’t work, clearly. Damian’s looking at you like you’re the very epitome of ‘human disaster’. “It’s for my personal project, lay off.”

Damian steps closer to you, and you finally have the time to really take him in. He’s got a simple dress shirt covered by a black vest. Dress pants, dress shoes, all looking very expensive. An elegant satin green tie pulls it all together. You hum appreciatively as you look him up and down.

“And what exactly does this ‘project’ entail?” he murmurs, grasping your hand and examining the ring. Flirting with you to get you to spill? Smooth.

“You like it?” you ask, referring to the ring. “Jon chose it.”

Damian furrows his brow immediately, looking at you. You grin. “He said he liked it on me, specifically.”

Damian huffs, dropping your hand. “I’m not building a world-ending weapon or anything. I’m allowed my hobbies,” you say, laying a hand on his chest as a way to calm him. “Honest.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to speak–

BOOM .

The ground rumbles, Damian grabbing you and you grabbing him. You stay locked together as you stand still, listening. Screams erupt, coming from the gym. Damian pushes you towards safety in a nearby janitor’s closet.

“Stay here, lock the door,” is all he says before running off towards the gym, no doubt planning to save the day as Robin. Way to be subtle.

Karen already knows what to do, letting the suit emerge from your bracelets under your sleeves. You sprint towards the gym, opening the doors silently. People are hiding behind and under tables, whimpering. There’s a gaping hole at the end of the gym, no doubt the loud explosion you heard earlier.

The one and only Scarecrow stands in the settling dust. He sure lives up to his name, that costume is frighteningly ugly. He raises his arms, canisters in hand, and throws them into the crowd. They explode with a hiss, releasing plumes of noxious gas. Hell. No.

You spring into action, webbing the canisters to try and block the spread of the fear gas quickly. A few gasps are heard from the students. You turn to them. “The fuck are you waiting around, for? Run!” They heed your call, quickly finding their way to the doors on the other side of the gym. Scarecrow tries to throw a canister at the running crowd, so you quickly web it, sticking it to the wall.

“You cannot save them,” he taunts, gesturing to the few students that still got hit with the fear gas. “Their fears will consume them, just as yours will consume you.” Ah, right. You are standing right in the middle of where his first cans exploded. Time to find out if your suit blocks the fumes.

A batarang appears, knocking Scarecrow's canisters out of his hands. Robin, the man himself, lands next to you. You can’t help but quip, “I thought such a prestigious school wouldn’t be so easy to break into?”

“It isn’t,” is Robin’s dry reply.

“Well, looks like someone missed the memo,” you retort, eyes locked on Scarecrow. You survey your surroundings, there’s still some lingering kids, plus the one’s victimized by the fear gas. “Handle him, I’ll get them out of here,” you command. Robin nods in understanding.

You jump away, quickly webbing up the fear gassed victims so they don’t hurt anyone or themselves. They scream and trash, making you wince and mutter rushed apologies. You kick up a table, depositing them behind it. Robin is holding his own against Scarecrow efficiently.

A couple of rushed whispers escape you as you encourage the leftover students to follow you out. You guide them, ducking under tables until you reach the doors. You breathe, the only one left is–

Victoria. Where’s her date? Did he leave her to save himself? Asshole, you swear. You call for her. “Hey!”

She turns to you, looking worse for wear. Her makeup is running down her face, carefully tied hair now loose in disarray. Poor girl. She runs over to you, tripping into your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper as you usher her to the exit.

“Spinner!” Robin yells. You turn around in time to deflect a throwaway can of fear gas. Victoria whimpers in your arms. “It’s alright, Vicky,” you say breathlessly. The last you see of her is her wide eyes as you shut the door.

Scarecrow growls in frustration. “You!” he points at you. “Why are you not affected!?”

A clawed finger clinks against your mask as you tap it. “My suit’s really cool like that.” Thank God , you weren’t sure if it would repel the gas. With a flick of your wrist, you send a web at Scarecrow to restrain him. He dodges, just barely.

“Or maybe I’m just already living my worst nightmare: a villain with a bad fashion sense,” you quip, weaving around. “Now let’s wrap this up before I start critiquing your escape plan.” You launch a web up at the ceiling, letting it carry you up. More webs grasp at Scarecrow, tugging him to you. Robin watches as you tie him up, Scarecrow flailing uselessly in the air.

You ignore his speeches about how ‘fear is eternal’ and ‘you’re delusional if you think you can stop it’ in favor of dropping him to the floor, roughly. You land next to him, leaning down and dragging him with you to the hole in the wall. “I’ll leave you here as my thanks to the GCPD.”

Robin comes to a stop next to you. “Call me corny, but you and I make a pretty good team, no?” you say, crossing your arms as you look at him.

“Do not flatter yourself, I did most of the fighting.”

You snort. “Yeah, but I got him in the end, didn’t I?” Robin shakes his head. “I’m just surprised you’re not shriveled up in fear like the rest of them.”

Robin crosses his arms. “I am capable of holding my breath.” Your mind wanders to inappropriate trains of thought, making you grin. The sound of sirens get closer, signaling the approach of the GCPD, and probably the other Bats as well.

“Well, I get terrible police anxiety, you know how it is,” you say, taking steps out of the hole. Robin follows you out. “Bye,” you say, before swinging away. You round the building, letting the suit retract back into your bracelets. You enter through a back door, avoiding cameras. You quickly straighten out your ruffled appearance, making your way to the gym. Some students are lingering around on their phones, either showing each other what they recorded or calling somebody to pick them up.

You pass Victoria on the way. She’s holding her arms, hugging herself. She raises her head and stares at you as you approach. You pause in front of her, not really sure what to say. She probably doesn’t want your comfort, so you’ll keep it brief. “Glad you’re okay,” you say as you awkwardly pat her shoulder. You quickly scurry inside the gym, feeling what you’re sure is a judging stare.

Just as you thought, some of the Bats are here, administering the antidote to the victims. You make a show of looking for Damian, just in case he’s watching. There’s an incessant buzzing in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you swipe open Jon’s messages.

please get this boy some brown contacts

why did i just turn on the news and ga was attacked

hello?????

are you okay??????

please be okay

why arent you answering are you dead

please dont be dead

Your heart churns at his worry. You just want to gnaw on him, he’s so cute. You send a selfie of you throwing up a peace sign with the police and Batman in the back.

yeah lmao im ok

shit was crazy but damian shoved me a closet all romantically and then ran off

looking for him rn hope he aint dead

he told me he wasnt even gna come what a liar

oh my gosh youre alive no way 

are you sure youre okay im pretty sure you just experienced something really traumatic

YES jon like i said i was in a closet the whole time

well im glad damian shoved you in there

also yeah he is a stinkin liar sometimes

You chuckle and let the conversation die. You make sure to answer Sam’s concerned messages with the same selfie and reassurance.

“I see you are alive and well,” comes Damian’s voice behind you. He’s got his hands in his pocket casually, looking completely put together and not like he just fought crime. He’s good.

You huff and turn around to face him. “Yeah well, it’s hard to die when you’re chilling in a closet that somebody shoved you into,” you snark accusingly.

He scoffs, ”I practically saved your life.”

“And then ran off. Where did you go, anyway?”

Damian turns his head, surveying the law enforcement as they work. “I helped in aiding the other students escape.” Yeah, whatever.

“Oh, really? We got ourselves a hero type over here.” You cross your arms and bump him gently. His head lolls with the movement. “Maybe you really are Robin.” He ‘tsk’s, but says nothing. You let the silence consume the both of you, eyes wandering the scene. Concerned parents cry in outrage at their fear gassed children. You wonder if they’ll sue. Then, you notice something.

“Why is Batman looking at me like I just cursed his entire bloodline?” you ask Damian, making him drop his arms and look to where your eyes are. You’re exaggerating, it’s hard to tell exactly how Batman’s looking at you with the cowl and the distance, but he isn’t exactly being subtle.

“That’s just how he usually looks,” says Damian, trying to remain casual. You are pretty damn sure he’s trying to signal to B that he needs to chill. Karen confirms that he actually is in your ear. Your mouth twitches as you wrangle a grin under control.

“Well, tonight was lame. I’m gonna go home before the big bad bat decides I need to be ‘vengeanced’ or something.” You turn around and begin walking away. “See you around, Dami.”

Damian grabs your arm before you can get far. “Let me walk you.”

You raise a brow. “Trying to figure out my base of operations?”

“It is late and you shouldn’t be going home alone. Especially after tonight,” he gestures to the scene.

You shrug. There’s really nothing to hide at your apartment, and he definitely already knows where you live regardless. “My hero. Okay, if you insist. But you’re paying for the ticket.”

“What ticket?” he scoffs. “My butler will be driving.” Oh. Right.

You scoff. “Of course you have a butler.”

He places a hand on your back to guide you out. You risk a subtle glance behind you and see that Batman is still looking, but more so at Damian now. You make a stop to the closet Damian shoves you into to pick up your haul, ignoring his side-eye. It seems he has let it go, for now.

Cold air greets you as you step outside with Damian. Arguably one of the coolest characters in the DC verse stands beside a sleek looking car, Alfred Pennyworth. You’re a big fan.

“Master Damian, Mx [Name].” He greets primly, stepping aside to open the door for you both. Damian nudges you in, and you make sure to thank Alfred and give him your address as you slip inside. Damian settles in beside you, his arm pressing into yours. You look out of the window as the drive commences. There’s not much to say.

“Tonight could’ve gone worse,” Damian says, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should be grateful for that.”

“Grateful, sure,” you reply, not taking your eyes off the city lights flashing by. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t happened at all.”

He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “True. But then, I wouldn’t have had the chance to save you.”

You roll your eyes. “Is that what you’re going to hang over my head forever? ‘Remember that time I saved you in the school closet?’”

Damian chuckles, a rare sound that makes you glance at him. “Perhaps. But I think you’d do the same.”

“You know me so well,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You lean back in the comfortable leather seat of the car, feeling the tension of the night slowly ebbing away. The drive through Gotham's streets is surprisingly smooth, with only the occasional sound of sirens in the distance to remind you of the chaos that unfolded earlier.

As you pass under the shadow of skyscrapers, you steal a glance at Damian. His profile is illuminated by the faint glow of city lights filtering through the car window. Despite the adrenaline of the evening, he seems composed, almost serene.

He catches your glance and turns to meet your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of lingering intensity from the night's events and a quiet contemplation that seems to soften his usually sharp features. The silence between you feels comfortable now, no longer laden with the tension of earlier encounters or the urgency of the situation you just escaped. You offer a smile, and this time he doesn’t have any reaction. Just a calm expression.

“We have arrived,” Alfred announces softly as the car comes to a stop, almost hesitant to break the silence. You step out of the car, giving Alfred a nod of gratitude before heading up to your apartment. You turn back one last time, meeting Damian’s gaze before unlocking your door and heading inside. As you settle in, you can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something else you can't quite place.

You drop your bag next to your bed and collapse in it. Nari comes trotting over, hopping onto your mattress and curling up next to you. Tonight was anything but lame. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, Damian’s presence made it a bit better.

You close your eyes, letting sleep take your mind.

notes: i know in a lot of peter parker in gotham fics they have that "dick grayson is richard parker in a different reality" storyline so i think im gonna try to reference that just a tad, since reader is peter parker just not yk.

in other news, im gonna TRY to update every weekend or so. keyword try.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

For what it's worth, I'm sorry and I don't really hate you | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, F - For what it's worth, I'm sorry and I don't really hate you

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Hello, I'm back with part 6. Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, life gets in the way and makes it hard to write, but here's the next part. I honestly don't know how many chapters this will have because I'm really enjoying writing it, so hey ho, I might even just make this one small fic series of many ideas' I currently have in my head :)

I don't know if this chapter does make much sense at all and non of it's been proof read again, so it could be a bit all over the place but please let me know what you think!

Thank you for all the ongoing support so far, it's overwhelming to see how much that you all love this, and it gives me motivation to continue to write!

My asks are open for anyone to drop me an any ideas' on this fic or anything else that people would like to see be written, however, I am only comfortable writing anything platonic though :)

You're progressing well to get better and you're slowly returning to usual happy, self chaotic self.

TW: angst and mentions of SH, MH, suicide and death.

"So, what's the food in this place like then?" Kyra broke the silence in the room, where all the girls were all crowded in as they came to visit you in the pysch ward of the hospital during the visiting hours.

It had been 46 hours since you had been detained, 46 hours since you all but shouted at Leah that you hated her.

You really did regret it.

You didn't actually mean that though, and you had been feeling terrible about it ever since the words escaped your mouth.

"Seriously, Kyra?" Steph stares at the younger Australian in disbelief.

"What? I'm just trying to make conversation here" Kyra replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Caitlin can't help but snort. "And you decide to start with asking what the foods' like?" she teases the twenty-one-year-old.

"Yeah, cos' I've heard that hopsital food is disgusting and all" Kyra remarks to the older girl, sticking her tongue out at her.

"Very mature" Steph rolls her eyes at the two of them.

"So, what is the food like then?" Vic asks, peeking interest to know the answer.

"Terrible, I think that even Leahs' cooking might be better than what they're serving on the menu here" You can't help but grin cheekily.

"Ouch it must be bad then" Beth joins in with the joke.

"You'd better not let her hear you say outloud or I think she'd been offended" Viv tells you as she can't help but smile slightly, just happy to see you slowly returning to your old self.

"So, she didn't come with you guys then?" You ask as you pull at the sleeves of the hoodie you currently had on.

You don't miss the look that all the girls share with one another. You weren't an idiot to know something was going on.

"Just tell me what's going on" You stare at them all, trying to get an answer out of them.

"She's outside in the waiting room with Lia" Jen admits, exhaling a sigh.

"Oh" Your smile falters at the disappointing news.

"She wanted to come in with us Y/N but it was hard for her" Beth explains on behlf of the blonde, who you miss terribley. "I'm sure when she's ready, she'll come and see you" she adds, trying to keep the hope alive.

You really had messed up with what you said, you doubt that she would want to visit you, nor would she want you to come back to the flat where you lived with her.

"Oh uh, well then that's okay I guess, I mean I don't blame her for not coming cos' what I said was horrible and stuff" You make up an excuse as you find sudden interest with the floor beneath you.

"It's not your fault for being angry, Y/N" Katie pats you on the shoulder.

"How're you feeling now?" Alessia asks, concerned as a way to try and change the subject.

"Is this your way of subtly asking me if I'm going to try and attempt to kill myself again?" You glance around at all of the girls' faces in the room.

"Y/N" Kim shoots you a disapproving look.

"The answers no by the way" You mumble quietly.

"Y/N" Kim repeats again, a bit louder.

"What? You know I like to make dark humour jokes in this type of situation. It's just a coping mechanism" You tell your captain as you hold your hands up in mock-surrender, who continues to look at you with a certain look that makes you back down straightaway. "Alright, okay, I'll tone it down with the death jokes" You mumble, slouching further down in your seat.

"How's she been doing?" Leah stands in the reception area of the hospital and fumbles with her hands, as she speaks to one of the doctors.

"Y/N has making good progress. I think another day or so and she'll be ready to come home" The doctor explains with a kind smile.

"That's great news" Lia says, smiling as she glances at the blonde for her reaction.

Leahs' eyes widen in surprise and smiles slightly. "Yeah, that's good to hear. I'm proud of her making so much progress in such a short space of time" she tells the doctor.

"It is, Y/N/N has really thrown herself into trying to get better, the therapy sessions seem to be going well too" The doctor tells them honestly. "Are you going to go and see her? I'm sure that she'd love to see you" she adds.

The blondes feels apprehensive, her eyes dart over in the direction of where the doors led to the psych ward, where you would be with the rest of the girls that had all visited.

Leah had wanted to as well, she just couldn't find the courage to actually take the steps and dipped out at the last minute.

"I hate you, Leah" The words that you shouted at her, played in her head on a constant loop.

"Uh, I don't know about that. I'm not sure if she's going to want to see me" Leah confesses, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Le, you don't know that" Lia squeezes the blondes' shoulder gently as she tries to reassure her.

"I know that she hates me, Wally. You heard what she said before" Leah replies quietly, shaking her head as she takes another glance towards the doors.

"You know that she didn't mean that, Le. You know she is just a kid with a lot of feelings sometimes" Lia tells the blonde, smiling at her.

Leah looks a bit more apprehensive as she shakes her head. "There was so much hatred in her voice when she said, it felt like she did mean it" she disagrees with her.

"She was angry the other day though, Le and you even said that yourself" Lia reminds the younger girl.

Leah hums as she bites her bottom lip "But what if she doesn't want to see me? I know she's going to be angry with me for leaving her here in this place" she admits to the older girl.

"She's been asking for you every day since she has been here" The doctor pipes in, gently smiling at the two girls.

"Really?" Leah asks, blinking in slight surprise.

"Yes, Y/N has told me about the visits from all of the girls but the only person she mentioned that she actually wants to see is you, Leah" The doctor tells the blonde.

"See?" Lia smiles at Leah and sqeeuzes her shoulder. "I told you that I don't think Y/N could ever hate you or be angry, you know that, Le" she insists.

"I know" Leah bites her bottom lip anxiously, taking another glance at the door ahead. "I just can't help but feel horrible for making the decision and I'm weary incase she resents me for it" she admits, quietly.

The doctor frowns at them both. "I know it must have been hard to be the one to make that call but it was for the right one to give her the best possible chance to get better" They explain.

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for this, Le. It's what was needed" Lia repeats the doctors words, so to speak.

"Yeah, yeah I know" Leah admits, pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie that she had on.

"You're nervous to see her?" The doctor asks, making the brief observation.

Leah can't help but snort slightly. "That obvious?" she jokes.

"I've been in this job for a while now, it's easy enough to pick up on things like this" The doctor chuckles amusedly. "Regardless of what may have been said, I have a feeling that Y/N will be happy enough to see you" They add in.

"SNAP" You scream loudly as you slam your hand down on the deck of cards that are on the table. "HA! I win!" You cheer in glee.

Kyra let's out a irritated huff while she glares at you. "Why are you so vicious with this game?" she asks.

"I want to win" You smirk and stick your tongue out at her, pulling the deck of cards towards you.

"Kyra, you're literally losing a child" Vic chips in, watching the game amusedly.

"Said child is a menace" Kyra mumbles as she pouts.

"Sucks to be a loser" You can't help but quip as you reshuffle the deck of cards in your hand.

"Room for a couple more visitors?" Leah pokes her head round the door and braces herself for your initial reaction to seeing her.

"LE!" You dart up from your seat and run to the blonde, abandoning the game of cards completely.

All feelings of anger had been swept aside as you were just happy to see her in the room. You thought you'd blown it when you told her that you hated her.

"Hi bubs" Leah instantly embraces you in her arms and kisses the top of your hair. "I've missed you, Y/N/N. I'm so sorry I haven't been to visit you" she apologises.

"S' okay, you're here now" You mumble, burying her head in her chest as you refuse to let go off her.

"Oi I'm here too, you know" Lia jokes playfully, knowing that you would want that moment with just the blonde.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi Wally" You grin cheekily at the older girl before you turn back towards the older blonde girl. "I'm sorry for what I said cos' I didn't mean what I said about hating you, I was angry and upset and I really don't hate you I promise!" You tell her honestly.

"It's okay bubs, I know you were upset and didn't mean it" Leah smiles as she squeezes you a bit more tighter than before, being careful in case she caught any of your bandages on your arms.

Moving to sit down on the now vacant chair, Leah plonks you down on her lap as she keeps her arms wrapped around you tightly since it was apparent you weren't going to let go any time soon but she was okay with how clingy you was after she hadn't seen you in a few days.

"Whats' been going on here then?" Lia looks towards the game that was previously being played.

"We were playing cards, but Kyras' being proper salty because she's loosing now" You grin, sticking your tongue out at the Australian girl.

"How do you even loose at that game?" Steph wonders.

"I didn't know you could even loose at snap" Beth chuckles, amusedly.

"Apparently so" Jen jokes, joining in with the two of them.

Leah can't help but laugh amusedly as she runs her fingers through your hair. "The doctor said that you're making good progress" she tells you.

"Mhm" You mumble, resting your head on her shoulder.

"That's good news!" Vic overhears the conversation as she smiles at you.

"Yeah, that means you'll be able to come home soon enough" Alessia pipes in.

Katie can't help but scoff. "She should've never been here in the first place" she sneers in the direction where Leah is sat.

"Katie" Kim glares at the Irish girl.

"What? It's true!" Katie exclaims in outrage, not backing down from glaring at the blonde. "You and I both know it, we all do! She should've never been here, she should have been at home with people that care about her" she insists.

"It's what was best for her" Leah fires back just as quick.

"Was it?" Katie scowls at her.

"Can you guys please not talk about me like I'm not in the room?" You huff and glance between the two older girls.

"Sorry kid" Katie apologises.

"Sorry bubs" Leah apologises.

"Hey, Y/N/N, it'll be good that you're getting out of hospital soon enough now" Kyra slyly grins at you, looking forward to the pair of you being able to cause mischief in no time.

"Yeah, partners in crime reunited again" You grin at the Aussie girl.

"No, no! Absolutely not!" Steph protests, shaking her head. "It took me at least a week to get the ketchup of the ceiling after the last stunt that you two idiots pulled" She adds.

"I don't know what you're talking about" You try to act innocent as you slyly smirk at Kyra.

"Oh, really? So the baking soda just happened to find it's way inside the ketchup bottle, did it?" Steph narrows her eyes' in the direction of the two of you.

"Maybe" Kyra can't help the shit eating grin on her face.

"I know that look, the pair of you are definitely going to be up to no good" Viv shakes her head.

Jen chuckles in amusement. "You two willl definitely be under a careful watch now incase the next prank gets out of hand" She notes.

"Sure, cos' I'm not going to already be watched like a hawk now anyways, right?" You remark sarcastically, peering up at the older blonde.

"What do you think?" Leah replies back, raising one of her eyebrows.

"You can relax, Le. I'm not going to attempt to kill myself again any time soon" You joke, not realising that now probably isn't the best time to make any type of comment like that.

"Y/N" Kim and Leah both scold you at the same time.

You huff when you realise the pair of them are already ganging up on you and remember that being the baby of the team definitely sucks sometimes.

"What? I'm just saying, I'm not gonna, well unless Leah attempts to try and cook dinner again then it's an easy way out-- Ow! What the fuck?" You continue to make jokes about the situation at hand, jolting in shock when you feel a light pinch on your thigh from said blonde you are sat on.

"Language" Leah states sternly, giving you one of her famous glares.

"That was mean of you to do that! Too soon to make jokes about it then?" You pout and rub your thigh to try and relieve some of the pain. "Yep got it" You add, smiling innocently at the blonde.

"So, I thought you weren't going to come in because it was hard for you?" Katie scoffs at the blonde, deciding to bring the subject up now that you were out of the room, having gone to grab a drink with Jen, Steph and Beth.

"Katie" Viv glances at Katie and exhales a sigh.

"It has been hard Katie" Leah admits, biting her bottom lip.

Katie scoffs again. "Oh? I'm sorry, I'm sure it must have been so hard for you, Leah" she deadpans.

"You don't know how hard it has been, Katie!" Leah shouts loud around the room, attracting a few looks in her direction.

"Wonderful" Steph speaks up first, exhaling a sigh.

"Not again" Beth mumbles, shaking her head.

"They're fighting again, aren't they?" You huff as you walk back towards the room with Jen as you can hear the raised voices from the two girls, who weren't seeing eye to eye now

"I think so" Jen agrees.

"Fantastic" You mumble, slowly walking back into the room.

"Oh? And how do you think it's been for Y/N/N? You made the decision to keep her in here!" Katie continues to argue with the blonde, not afraid to be open about her feelings. "You haven't even visited her once while she's been here" she adds.

The Irish girl really hadn't been happy with the whole decision that had been made but there was nothing that she could do herself to stop it from happening.

It had left a tense atmosphere between the two girls and they'd shared a few cross words ever since.

"It wasn't my choice Katie!" Leah insists, continuing to argue with the fiesty Irish girl.

Katie couldn't help but scoff and roll her eyes. "Sure, but you could have said something to stop it!" she fires back at the blonde, not willing to back down from the argument just yet.

"Girls lets' not do this here" Kim looks between the two of them as she notices you walk back into the room with the older girls.

"Katie, come on, just leave it" Caitlin takes a hold of the girls' hand to try and calm her down.

However, neither of the girls were willing to back down just yet.

They were both just as stubborn as one another sometimes.

"The doctors thought it was best since Y/N/N--" Leahs' words were cut off by you, walking in right at that moment.

"Tried to kill myself, I tried to end my life, and it would have worked if Leah hadn't ran in and stopped me, so everyone thinks keeping me locked up in here it will help to keep me safe"

The room is suddenly so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Whoops?

"Hey, at least the therapy is somehow helping to help me express my feelings now. Yay" You deadpan, plonking yourself back down on Leahs' lap as you rip open the packet of Haribo Tangfastics you had brought from the hospital shop. "So, does anyone want a sweet?" You offer, like you hadn't just said what you did.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [2]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: oop, another addition to the story. i hope it both answers some questions and then raises more, lol. as always, mind the warnings, and please enjoy! 😊🥰

By the time someone comes to fetch you to break fast, you are already awake. Helped into your cumbersome new gown by your lady’s maids, you pace in front of the cold fireplace. You pray the prince avoids the meal entirely, you’ve no wish to face him after—

 Your face heats, and you press your hands to your warm cheeks. You don’t want to think of it, but you can’t help it, your mind conjuring images of the prince staring at you with flushed cheeks and dark eyes, his lips curved in that  cruel smile—

 Better to avoid him altogether. 

 A soft, almost nervous knock comes upon the door of your chambers, and upon opening it, you discover Kassandra on the other side. She sinks into a deep curtsy, bowing her head. 

 “Good morning, Your Grace.” Awkwardly, you incline your head in return. “Her Majesty requested I fetch you to break the fast.” She chips happily at you, and you wonder if her good mood is true, or if she has created it for your benefit. 

 “Lady Kassandra,” you say, edging out of your room and closing the door behind you. “I trust you are well this morning.” 

 “Oh yes, Your Grace.” She threads her fingers together as a blush reddens her pale cheeks. “I did dance quite late into the evening.” 

 “I’ve no doubt you must have secured many a betrothal,” you say, and she giggles, covering her smile with the palm of her hand. “You did look quite lovely.” For a moment, you are not princess and lady in waiting—it is almost as though you are friends. Friends. Here in Rivia, you are surrounded by more people than ever before, and yet you find yourself lonelier than ever.

 “You are too kind, my lady.” Kassandra seems to find her way easily through the castle’s labyrinthine halls, and it makes you wonder how long she has been here. “Twas you that bewitched the court—if you don’t mind my saying so, Highness.” Her words almost make you stumble, your foot catching against stone.

 Your cheeks smart with heat, and your brows knit together in disbelief. “I—It was my mother who married the king.” You do not take yourself for a great beauty, not like your mother, but frustratingly, Kassandra shakes her head. 

 “Her Majesty was a sight to behold,” she agrees. “But I expect, had you not retired early, Your Grace might have received another offer of betrothal.” Kassandra casts a sly look in your direction. “Or two.”  You look away, embarrassedly recalling Lord Olthar’s proposal, his skinny, red-faced son peeking out at you from behind his fathers robes. The thought of allowing him any closer than that turns your stomach, and you shake your head. 

 “One was quite enough.” You’ve no wish to be married, especially not to Lord Olthar’s spawn. “I should hope to remain in Rivia longer than a week before a match is written in stone,” you say dryly. You’re due a betrothal, that much you know—your eighteenth summer had come and gone without one, and just when your mother’s nattering had reached its peak, the fevers had come for your father. And then, a betrothal was the last thing on anyone’s minds. 

 ”I am glad the king did not accept Lord Olthar’s proposal,” Kassandra admits with a small, secretive laugh. She leans in conspiratorially. “They say his son is rather… over fond of horses.” Her words illicit a gasp from you, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

 You laugh too. “I dare not imagine the wedding.”

 “Fit for a queen.” 

 “The Queen of Horses, perhaps,” you retort, and the two of you dissolve into a fit of quiet giggles.

 “I imagine His Majesty will have much higher standers for your betrothal, princess.” She smiles at you reassuringly. “I do not think Lord Olthar will try again.” You nod in return, grateful for her good humor.

 “Hopefully I shall not have to think on mine own for quite some time.” Your thoughts are preoccupied enough these days without adding ones of a husband to the array. 

 “Not inspired by the ceremony?” The low, dark voice makes you turn. Lead forms hot and fast in your stomach at the sight of Prince Geralt. Even during the day, the prince strikes an intimidating figure, wide shoulders and barely tamed silver-white hair. Today, it is partially pulled back behind his ears, loose strands framing his chiseled jaw. Kassandra goes red as she curtsies, blushing deep crimson from the roots of her pale hair to the collar of her dress. 

 More out of habit than respect, you bend your knees as well, inclining your head. His appearance is sobering, the jovial mood instantly darkening. 

 “Good morning, Your Majesty.” It is all the politeness you can manage. His face looms still in your mind’s eye, his hair falling across his dark eyes as he drove into her, his hand curled in the hair at the nape of her neck—

 You suppress a shiver. 

 “Apologies, Your Grace!” Kassandra rushes to appease him, striking a chord of frustrated irritation within you. “We simply—”

 The prince waves a dismissive hand. “It is only be expected, I suppose.” He says silkily. “I know few women who do not await their wedding day with thoughts of bliss.” When his molten amber eyes rest on you, you shiver. His voice takes on an amused lilt. 

“Perhaps things are different in Redania, little sister?” You do not like the way the word drips from his tongue, as if another were in its place, one you don’t know, but that makes the the flesh at the back of your neck prickle just the same. His familiarity irks you as well—Prince Geralt speaks as if he knows you, as if he has spoken more than five words to you, not counting the ones uttered while he had been… otherwise engaged. 

 You swallow against the tightness in your throat. “Perhaps,” you say. The words are clipped, as if you have bitten off their edges. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it, the barb slipping from your tongue before you can pluck it. “In Redania, one must wait until after the wedding to consummate the marriage. Does that policy hold true here as well?” 

 Prince Geralt does not give you the satisfaction of a reaction, his features schooled into cool impassivity.

 “I believe so, princess.” There is a dry sort of amusement coloring his words, as if to tell you the blow you’d tried to inflict was meager at best. “It appears we are not so different after all.” 

 You grind your teeth. 

 The prince falls into step beside you, setting the pace. To your frustration it is a leisurely one; walking with his arms clasped behind his back as he drags the conversation out. You wonder irately if he is doing this on purpose—you had walked with Kassandra to the hall the previous morning, and it had only taken half the time, you’re sure of it. 

 ”It was a great honor to attend such holy proceedings.” Kassandra’s voice seems to make the prince’s lip curl, and he cuts his eyes at her, sparing her only the barest of glances from the corner of his eye. You know, though, that the words are meant for you. 

 “Yes, truly.” The prince hums. “And how wonderful our Queen should be fortunate enough to experience them twice.” 

 Outrage bubbles up in your chest at the insult of his implication, and it takes all of your strength not to respond in kind. You glance at Kassandra, her passive expression evidence that the prince’s sly remark has either been absorbed without question or gone unnoticed entirely. For a moment you imagine his smile goes smug and self-satisfied as your own lips press together into a thin line. Your mind races as you try to formulate a response—this is not a game you are used to playing, one of guileful words wrapped in loose pleasantries, and you feel woefully unprepared for your part in it. 

 “Fortunate indeed,” you reply, forcing yourself to keep your tone light and airy. By now, the great hall is in sight, servants bustling through the busy corridor as you approach the hall. “A wisely made match, would you not agree, Majesty?” A gaggle of nobles surround the king and queen, their heads swiveling at the sound of your voice. The satisfaction you feel as Geralt’s lips curl into a scowl is a new feeling, one you are not sure you like. —he cannot  continue the game, not now, not without open insult. You can tell he does not enjoy being called to heel, least of all by you. 

 A chorus of good morning’s and your grace’s assail you like raindrops until you are practically dripping with them. You are familiar with only a select few of the faces surrounding the king and your mother, but not many. You recognize Lord Strom, Kassandra’s father, who shares the same sallow features as his daughter. He is flanked by a woman with a pinched, irritated looking expression; you had been introduced just before the wedding ceremony had begun, but you cannot recall her name now, only her relation to the king. A great-aunt—you think.  

 As you enter the hall, you note that it is already clean, all evidence of last night’s festivities gone, save for your mother, standing before you. Small tables have been set out for the visiting nobility lucky enough to be granted this brief audience with the king. The large table on the dais is already heavy laden with food, servants flanking the table on either side of the king’s chair as they wait for orders. Breakfast at home had been a family affair, gathered around the table in the hall. This, like every other event you have witnessed since arriving, is public spectacle. 

 Your mother preens at the attention. She flits from person to person, accepting their congratulations with regal grace. Once upon a time, behind the dusty pages of books she wished you would not read, you and father had called her the Pretty Peacock, the way she bustled about the manor and clucked her orders at the matron and her staff. Here, though, it seemed less amusing, and more… purposeful. 

 Though your mother seems to move amongst these people with ease, you struggle to follow her example, weaving serpentine through the crowd of courtiers, which parts like butter to a hot knife in her wake. Her gown is of a similar color scheme as yours, pale yellow with silver and gold embroidery embellishing her hem and sleeves. The crown of delicate silver and black leaves rests atop her head, the black jewel at its center sparkling. She turns to you with a smile, embracing you warmly. 

 “Trust my daughter to appear as her name is mentioned.” Your mother’s delicate, feminine laugh makes you want to curl in on yourself as the eyes of her fawning lady’s maids fall to you. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Though you cannot see him, you can feel the prince’s eye upon you with almost physical sensation. The hair at the back of your neck pricks up.

 Why does he watch me? You chance a look over your shoulder, and your back stiffens. There are people between you still, a safe barrier, but there is no mistaking it—the prince’s eyes are locked on you, and he makes no effort to hide it. You turn quickly back to your mother as he produces a slim knife from somewhere, and spears an apple from the table with it. The crunch as his teeth break the skin rings uncomfortably in your ears. 

 “T’was fine,” you answer her quickly, hoping your small, curt smile is enough to convince her. “I danced, some.” It is a lie, but one she either does not recognize or one she cares little about. One set of eyes is appeased, and falls from you. The others bore hot holes in the back of your dress. The king approaches, and you note the affectionate pass of his hand over your mother’s arm. You curtsy low, again, more out of instinct than conscious thought. 

 “Come now daughter, we are family now, are we not?” He laughs. “Rise.” His expression is warm, but you feel the word roll inside your skull like a loose marble, or a pebble in your shoe. It is unfamilitar and uncomfortable coming from his lips, but you bear it as best you can. 

 “Y-yes. Family.” The king walks with his hands folded behind his back, a habit you cannot help but note that he shares with his son. You have dreaded this, the game of getting to know one another over the cold corpse of the man who had raised you. It stings, as you knew it would. It feels insane to you, to behave as if all the years of your life prior to this were but a footnote, and this the true story. Perhaps it is you who are insane, the only madwoman adrift in a sea of sensibility.

 “Your mother tells me you’ve a great love of books,” he continues, unaware of the rolling turmoil that rocks your stomach. He casts a long glance sideways at you and at first, you cannot tell if there is reprisal or approval in his words. Then, he offers another smile, this one warm, genuine. “I trust you’ve found the archives enjoyable.”

 Your mother’s laughter cuts through the moment like a knife. “Oh, don’t encourage her, my love,” she says. “We shall surely lose her in yellow old pages.” The gallery of painted faces behind her titters with amusement, and at the same time, you feel your cheeks begin to smart. Perhaps it is the syrupy sweet my love tacked to the end of her sentence that makes your eyes burn with hot, frustrated tears, or her casual disparagement, you are torn for choice. You shake your head, forcing another smile as you blink them back. Perhaps you are simply being oversensitive, seeing what is not there. 

 “Thank you, Majesty.” You fold your hands together as you follow the king and queen up to the dais, and move to take your seat. “I shall have to bring Kassandra along with me. Perhaps if I am buried in parchment, she may yet dig me out again.” 

 You are relieved when the conversation shifts from you, allowing you to stare sullenly at the spread before you in peace. It is startlingly familiar, your mother’s need to ensure that every eye is upon her at all times, and you find that you are perhaps glad for it. It is exhausting to play at happiness and not feel it, and every second you do not have to keep up the pretense is one you are grateful for. Even if it comes at the expense of a little of your pride. 

 That gratefulness dissipates like smoke in the wind as Prince Geralt seats himself next to you. However intimidatingly large he had felt as you and Kassandra had made your way through the halls, he feels doubly so now. Though he has his own chair and place at the table, it feels as though it is too small to contain him, and he spills over into your seat anyway. His thigh is pressed tightly against your own through your gown, and no amount of subtle shifting on your part seems to remove him. You grimace, and the servant who is pouring water into your goblet gasps, and bows her head quickly. 

 “Apologies, Your Grace, I have offended you!” Her distress begins to turn heads, and you hurriedly attempt to placate her, shaking your head with a weak smile.

 “No, no, it’s nothing—”

 “Yes, princess,” the word drips from your stepbrother’s lips like black honey. “Whatever is the matter?” 

 You glare at him. He is pushing you, trying to force you into a confrontation for no reason you can discern—other than his own blasted amusement. You are tempted to give him what he wants, your own accusations waiting eagerly at the tip of your tongue. And you have your pick of poisons to dispense; his foul behavior the night before, his insult to the queen—

 But as you look down the table, you see few allies. King Vesemir looks at you with an apathetic sort of curiosity. And your mother… her doll-like expression appears concerned, but you can read it for what it truly is. The way her eyes narrow, her mouth tightened just so at the corners—

 She is angry. 

 You can hear her without her speaking, and your mind conjures her reprisal  perfectly, even without her input. 

 You are making a scene. You know that is what she would tell you. Be silent. Be seen, not heard.

 “Nothing.” You wish you could slap Prince Geralt, slap the concerned facade right off of his wretched face. “Nothing at all.” 

—

 The grass beneath you is brittle, and you can feel it crumbling into dusty nothing as it crunches beneath the soles of your bare feet. The low-cut hedges have grown out crooked and gnarled from neglect, their roots erupting thirstily from the baked earth to choke the narrow pathway. The garden is different now than it was when you had left, but you know it still—home. The manor looms gloomily above the garden, sticking out of the barren hillside like a jagged tooth, glaring angrily down at the cracked flowerbeds and baked earth. 

 Everything is dead here. 

 The icy wind that whips at your cotton shift, tangling it about your legs is dead, carrying with it the sound of grinding bones and last breaths. From the parched fissures in the dead, hungry dirt, you can hear whispers, and you press your cold, shaking hands to your ears to block them out. You do not know the reason, but nevertheless the knowledge remains in your bones as if you were born with it—

 I mustn’t listen. I mustn’t hear the dead.

 You press your palms against the sides of your head until it aches, dragging your feet through the dead, overgrown grass as you make your way through the garden. You want to leave, to turn around and leave this place, this terrible mirror, but your body will not obey. Instead, your unwilling legs carry you further and further into the spiral of dry, overgrown hedges and cracked pavement. The ghostly voices continue to rise in pitch until they are screaming, tortured cries leaking up from below as you approach the center of the garden. 

 It, like everything else here, is wrong, gleaming as if polished in the dim light of the dead sun. It is white like bone, and black, sluggish muck leaks from the trumpet of the nymph carved there. The sly, mysterious smile carved on her marble lips has been replaced by a grimace of abject terror, and when you follow her stone gaze, your eyes widen with the same emotion. Your hands leave your ears then, covering your mouth to try and dampen the horrified gasp that leaves your lips. 

 Your father stands before you. 

 He is still a distance away, walking slowly toward you through the garden. His eyes are blacked out, but not completely, black wriggling over the whites like a child’s scribble, black thread weaved through the skin of his lips, suturing them shut. 

 He is horrible. 

 He begins to open his mouth, and it yawns wide, the threads snapping—

 You sit up, a hand clutching at your chest. You stare around the room, panting as your mind attempts to place you in your still unfamiliar surroundings. Your heart is still races from the dream, your hands clammy and trembling. The taste of dry earth coats your tongue, and your throat feels cold and parched, as if you had walked the cold gardens truly, and not only in your dreams.

You can still see it, the rotting black threads holding your father’s withered lips shut, the black writhing ink scribbles across his eyes—

 “No.” You mutter the word softly as you press the heels of your palms to your closed eyes, pushing hard until colored spots dance in your vision. You do not want to think of your father that way, his body moldering in the earth, rotting away like he had never been in the first place. It had felt so real, the cool distant glare of the white sun, the arid earth beneath your feet—

 “A nightmare.” You say it aloud to no-one. “Nothing more.” 

 The morning sun paints a bright stripe across the blankets through the curtains of the four poster bed, and you tug them further open, squinting. Everything in your chambers is as it was the night before, though the fire in the hearth has gone down to cinders, and a copper tub has been set before it. You step out and into your slippers, noting the steam that still rises from the water. They must have brought it in as you slept, though you had not heard them do so. 

 I slept… unusually deeply. 

 You disrobe, stepping into the water with a grateful sigh. You sink in until you are mostly submerged, your nose hovering above the surface as you stare pensively at the window, studying the gray, muddled shape of the buildings beyond it. You do not want to think of the dream, or your father, but both seem intent at crowding at the forefront of your mind. 

 You know your father would tell you not to ignore it. Dreams mean things, he would say. What did it tell you? But there is no meaning you can discern from your nightmare, other than that you miss your father, and you wish he were still here, with you. 

 After you finish in the bath, you dress yourself. Instead of the multi-layered gown set out for you by your lady’s maids, you rummage through the wardrobe for one of the loose, flowy dresses more typical of your warm countryside home. You find one at the back, and as you slip into it, you feel more settled, more yourself. The creamy, peach colored fabric has one long, bell sleeve, and drapes modestly across your chest, exposing the top of one shoulder. It is less cumbersome than the heavy, three piece set they chose, and when they enter to help you, you can see the surprise written on their faces. 

 To their credit, they say nothing, simply helping braid and pin your hair, before setting the small silver circlet you wear at your mother’s insistence upon your brow. 

 It is long past time to break fast, but nevertheless, your request for a scone with butter and sweet cream is met without fuss down in the kitchens. As you eat, Kassandra marvels at your dress. 

 “I quite like it, Majesty,” she says, clapping her hands encouragingly as she circles you. “No corset? I do wonder if my father might permit me to have one made in its likeness,” she moans rather piteously. “Though I doubt he shall be pleased by my asking, it is quite bold, if you do not mind my saying so, Highness.” You look down at yourself, and then raise an eyebrow. 

 “Why should he find your request offensive? I mean no insult, but I do believe our dress more…modest than those of fashion here in Rivia.” Even Kassandra’s low cut gown exposes the tops of her breasts, the bodice molding to her body,pushing them out and up before rising back up to play at covering her shoulders. She laughs behind a hand at your ire.

 “I suppose it is all a matter of personal opinion, my lady. I do find Redanian fashion quite lovely, if this dress should be a fair representation.”

 “ ‘Tis.” You reply, finishing your biscuit. From your place by the windows, just outside the kitchen, you can see down into the gardens. Though the sight of them is sullied by the memory of your stepbrother’s wanton behavior, the glint of colored glass catches your eye. “What is that?” You ask, pointing at the colored shafts of light as they seemingly beam upward from the ground, the source blocked by lush greenery.

 “The roof of the chapel,” Kassandra says. “It is made of stained glass.” At your confused look, she continues. “The chapel is beneath the keep, Majesty, it’s roof is the center of the maze. It is quite beautiful, should you wish to see it, my lady.” Intrigued, you nod.

 “Yes, thank you. I would.” 

 Kassandra leads you down into the bowels of the castle, and you feel the walls grow cold around you as daylight through the arched windows is replaced by the soft glow of candles. The construction looks much older down here, the stone pitted and smooth not from polish but from the passage of time. Upstairs, the corridors had been crowded with courtiers, lords and ladies all seeking the king’s approval, or waiting for their opportunity to serve at his request. 

Instead, you take note of the priests in their pale robes, black ink sigils drawn onto the skin of their foreheads and the expanses of their cheeks beneath their eyes. They keep their heads bowed and shoulders stooped as they shuffle through the halls in penitent silence. 

 “Why do they paint their faces?” You ask quietly. 

 “So that the gods might receive their prayers.” 

  The chapel’s carved doors bear images of the gods you do not worship, the wood branded with the sigil of the king—the head of a wolf, it’s mouth open in an eternal snarl. Inside, the air is thick with incense, and it takes you more than a few labored breaths to grow used to it. The inside of the chapel is long and narrow, its walls lined with alcoves featuring enormous statues of the gods. Kassandra gestures to the ceiling, trailing her fingers through the shafts of colored light that stream down, bathing the sullen atmosphere in muted color. 

 “Is it not beautiful, lady?”

 “Yes, it is.” You speak truth—the glass is beautiful, unclouded and the colors  true. Images of faith are splashed across the colored surfaces; a great wolf standing beneath a full moon, devouring a beautiful maiden, the three-faced Mother bathed in the golden light of the sun, and the Spider, sitting in the center of her silver web. You watch as Kassandra makes a sign with her right hand, her middle finger and thumb pressed together. She brings it reverently to her forehead, before dropping it to her chin, and then the center of her chest. 

 It is a quiet, sullen sort of reverence, one you see mirrored in the bowed heads of the priests, and in the quiet, droning chants the monks at the pulpit continue without pause. But there is no joy here. No voices lifted in worshipful, devoted song, nor dances with arms stretched to the bright and brilliant sky. Those are the rituals of worship you know, the ones your father taught you. This place, like the garden in your dream, feels dead. 

 If there ever were gods here, they have certainly gone, now. 

 “Who is this?” You ask, pointing to the wolf. It’s golden eyes seem to follow you around the room as you trail after Kassandra, and it makes you think uncomfortably of the prince. She stops in front of it’s stone copy, and she makes the sigil again, finger on thumb, forehead, chin, chest. 

 “Father Wolf.” She says as she rises. “It is said that he devours the moon each night, so that it may be reborn in the morning, as the sun.” She cocks her head. “Do you not know the stories, Majesty?” 

 “She would not.” You turn to see one of the priests. In his hand, he holds an incense box, sluggish white smoke pouring from the gold painted slats. “Her Majesty hails from Redania. They hold to the old faith there.” You watch his eyes narrow as they drop to your gown before traveling back up to your face. His lips curve into an unfriendly smile. “I did not think to see Your Highness here.” 

 You raise an eyebrow. “In my experience father, it is a poor monarch who expects to rule people she knows nothing about.” Kassandra ducks her head, covering her mouth to hide her smile at your diplomatically worded impertinence.

 His cheek tics. “Of course, Highness.” He bows his head in a manner you know is meant to be respectful, though the acid that drips from his words is anything but. “The people shall be pleased that you are so…familiar.” He drums his fingers against the incense box, before fixing you with another small, curt smile. “They do not react well to the southland’s…” He pauses to search for a word.  “Heathenistic rituals.” 

 The words fly to your tongue before you can swallow them back, flying from your lips with righteous indignation. 

 “Are you quite sure the heathen rituals you fear are not your own, Father?”  His mouth twists with anger, but you do not cower in the face of it, jutting your chin out stubbornly. You have taken little pleasure in the shifting of your station, but his brazen disrespect sets a blazing fire in your chest. You are a princess, and you will not be spoken to this way. 

 “Father Rame.” Your belly fills with hot iron at Prince Geralt’s voice, his tone warning. So irate were you with the priest that you had taken no notice of his approach. The prince leans against one of the stone pews, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You would do well to hold your tongue, lest my father remove it.” The priest drops into a low bow, his lips curling into a scowl. “I do not think he would take kindly to your… implications.” 

 “Apologies, My Prince, I meant only to—” Geralt raises a hand, and Father Rame’s words die in his throat. 

 “Go. And perhaps I will… forget to inform the kingsguard of your offense today.” You can tell the priest is unsatisfied, his hands clenching into tight fists in the sleeves of his robe. Nevertheless, he issues you another stiff apology through his clenched teeth, before he turns on his heel, his robes billowing behind him. 

 “Thank you.” You spit the words out as if they have burnt you. “For your assistance.” Geralt’s amber eyes dip the way Father Rame’s did, and you hate the way they drag across every inch of you before coming to rest on your face. Instead of scornful disapproval, you find something else there. Something darker you refuse to name. 

 “My pleasure, princess.” He purrs the words, and you feel them like a physical caress. You try to hide the shiver that travels down your spine, gooseflesh erupting on the back of your neck and arms in its wake. He glances at Father Rame’s retreating back. “I would pay him no heed. The good Father can be… Zealous.” 

 “That is certainly one way to put it.” You remark dryly. 

 “He will not bother you again.” He says it with a finality that makes you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. 

 “I hope not.” You brush a speck of imagined dirt from the bodice of your dress, and the prince’s eyes follow the movement. 

 “Your gown is lovely, sister.” He says, and you swallow against the sudden lump in your throat. “I have not seen its like since last I was in Redania.” 

 “Thank you.” You stiffen as he moves towards you, slow steps carrying him in a small circle around you and Kassandra. You force yourself to endure his inspection. 

 “Oh yes.” He fingers the hem of your sleeve before you step back, a little. “I hope you do not mind me imparting a bit of… Rivian wisdom?” 

 Do I have any choice? You force a smile. “Please.” 

 “This is a married woman’s color, Sweetling.” His eyes are molten honey. 

 “W-what?” You do not know which words you were expecting to fall from the prince’s smug lips, but it was not these. “I—”

 “I hope you take no offense,” he drawls, though the expression on his face says otherwise. “I only mean to inform.” 

 “H-how interesting.” You force a small smile, before turning quickly to Kassandra. 

 “My head aches from the incense,” you say, turning away from him and striding toward the door. “We should take our leave.” With a stiff, reluctant bow, you turn from the prince. “Excuse us, please.” 

 “By all means.” 

 Kassandra squeaks, hurrying after you with her skirts gathered tightly into her hands. As you push angrily through the entering group of priests and out into the corridor, you can feel two sets of eyes on your retreating back—

 Geralt’s, and the wolf’s. 

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 5: Happy Hotel Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2032

“—so ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of his kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!”

I give an amused hum looking at the TV then commenting, “Well, isn’t that something, hun?”

“Indeed so. How about we introduce ourselves later, sweetheart?” he mentions somewhat mysteriously holding the small of my back.

“Wow, look at you, perking up all of a sudden,” I said looking at him surprised, but he just raises an eyebrow at me, I shrugged and continued, “Well, you know. You just seem so disinterested in these matters concerning others, especially angels before.”

He laughs and replies, “Well, over the years of toppling overlords, angels seem to be the most troublesome bunch for now. Not to say I’d lose to those pesky flies from heaven.”

I nodded my head finding reason in his explanation. “That’s fair enough. Though, things have changed since you’ve been gone, Al. Even I’m attending those annoying meetings for you,” I complained.

“I apologize, my dear,” he coddled, “I know how fussy you get when you go for long without me.”

I gasped dramatically hand over my chest, “Me? Fussy? Should I mention that you would literally drag down a person that was just talking to me?”

“Oh, please. He was very clearly trying to hit on you, and you’re too nice to even turn them down, sweetheart,” he rebuts rolling his eyes.

“I could’ve handled it myself,” I harrumphed cheekily turning my cheek at him.

“Of course you would have, my darling,” he dismisses me playfully.

I scrunched my face at him which he only responded with a pinch on my nose playfully with a genuine smile on his face. I turn to face some demons who were charging at us, no doubt some of Mammon’s goons who accepted the job for some drugs, I sighed and waved my hand over their figures and watched as water appears and jets them off to the side. Tightening my hands into a fist encasing them in water to drown in, leaving them there.

“See. Very powerful,” I told my husband gesturing at the drowning fools that stopped releasing water bubbles from their mouth.

“Seems like you’ve also been busy for these 7 years apart,” he mentions.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I glared off the side annoyed.

We appeared on the hill where this hotel that the princess of hell advertised earlier. My heart clenched when I hear her trying to call her mom wondering if Abby did as much when I disappeared so suddenly. She goes inside without noticing us.

Al, being the gentleman he was, knocked on the door first.

“Hel—” slam “—oh” slam

“Pff, you scared the poor thing,” I laughed at him crossing my arms. He pinches my cheek then turns back to the door.

“May I speak now?”

“You may,” she elongates crossing her arms trying to be authoritative making me chuckle at how cute she was.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart! Quite the pleasure. This is my wife, Miledy,” he introduced the both of us while he walks right in through the door, and continues rapidly, “Excuse our sudden visit but we saw your fiasco at the picture show, and I just couldn’t resist! What a performance! My I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahaha! So many orphans...”

I raise my eyebrow at him, then realizing he really doesn’t care much for other people’s well-beings if it was our family. I’m pretty sure he misses Abigail to this day.

“Hi, I’m Miledy. Aren’t you the cutest?” I cooed pinching her cheek dotingly. She awkwardly laughs at my actions and waits for me to pull away from which I did, seeing how polite the daughter of hell is. “Sorry about him.”

“Stop. Right. There!” a spear pointed at Alastor making both Charlie and I’s eyes widen at the aggression. “I know your game. I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here! You pompous, cheesy, talk show shit-lord!”

He laughs drily and moves the spear away, “Dear, I wanted to hurt anyone here... I would have done so already.”

They back away frightened at Alastor’s intimidation the room changing, symbols and shadows flickering in the room while his eyes turned into their infamous stare.

“No! I’m here because I wanted to help!” he exclaimed.

“Say what now?” “Huh?”

“Help!”

I let him do his theatrics while I moved around looking at pictures framed on the wall finding many paintings of the Morningstar family, some probably with their close friends, and many posters of Lilith’s shows.

“So, who’s fish breath over here?”

“I beg your pardon?” I turned to the voice and met eyes with a pink spider sinner adapting a very... voluminous form.

“What’s the deal between you and smiles over there?” he asked jabbing his thumb at Al’s direction.

I just smiled at him and said nothing while the little lady asks, “Wait, you’ve never heard of them before? You’ve been here longer than me.” He shrugs making her continue, “The Radio Demon, The Siren? Two of the most powerful being’s hell has ever seen?”

“Eh, not big on politics,” he gives up slumping back on the couch where I sat next to him, much to his comfort.

“Hmm, I’d like to know how the masses see us,” I mused placing my chin on my hand curiously.

She bites back a groan and explains, “Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple Overlords who have been dominant for centuries. He and the Siren always worked together, always one without the other. She had the voice that only second to Lilith herself. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast their carnage all throughout Hell just so everyone could witness their ability. Sinners started calling him "The Radio Demon" (as lazy as that is). Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing's for sure: They’re an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!”

“Interesting,” I commented with a grin grazing my eyes over at Alastor.

“You done? He looks like a strawberry pimp,” he laughs looking back the pair.

She huffs then crosses her arms and answers, “Well, I don’t trust him!”

“To be fair, do you trust any man? Any men? Men?” he chides then laughing making the woman glare at her while I just stared at the both of them, my head resting on both my hands now finding their exchange fun.

I appeared beside Al as he waited for Charlie to decide, “Why are you suddenly invested in the princess?”

He shrugs and gives me a lazy grin and answers, “Well, it seems like fun.”

“Rightt,” I drawled out not asking him further, he may be like this in public, but I know he doesn’t do anything unless it favors him.

“Okay, so, Al. You're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke.” She pauses, “But, I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I'm taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no... tricks or voodoo strings attached.”

“So, it's a deal, then?” he offers holding out his hand to take as the room glowed green and wind blowing past us.

“Nope! No shaking! No deals! I... hmm... As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire,” she orders politely as Alastor fixes up his hair, “Sound fair?”

“Hmm...  Fair enough!” He hums as he inspects the room.

 “Smile, my dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!” he teases Vaggie wiggling his finger under her chin to annoy her. “So where is your hotel staff?”

“Uh, well-.”

“Ohohoho, you're going to need more than that,” he remarks walking towards the pink spider,  “And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!” he offers enthusiastically.

“HAH! No,” Al denies immediately while I gave the spider a harsh glare, a few of my water demons popping out of the ground menacingly making him whimper.

“You know what? I changed my mind!” he states awkwardly trying to save his skin.

“Well, this just won't do!” Al yells summoning his staff, “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up.”

He conjures up a nice fireplace and lifts up a black blob with a big eye, dropping it to the ground.

“Hi, I'm Niffty! It's nice to meet you! It's been a while since I've made new friends!” he introduces, “Why're you all women? Are there any men here?!  I'm sorry, that's rude. Oooh, man! This place is filthy! It really needs a lady's touch! Which is weird because you're all ladies, no offense.  Oh, my gosh! This is awful!  Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!”

When Nifty walks past me I give her a pet on the head with a smile which she enjoyed, as Husker arrives along with a casino table.

“Ah, Husker, my good friend! Glad you could make it!”

“Don't you "Husker" me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!” he yells and facepalms when the money disappears.

“Good to see you too!” he replies clearly enjoying annoying Husk.

“What the hell do you want with me this time...?” he sighs defeated.

“My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that's okay!”

“Are you shittin' me?!”

“Hmm... No, I don't think so!”

“You thought it'd be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere?! You think I'm some kind of fucking clown?!”

“Maybe!”

“I ain't doing no fucking charity job.”

“Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!” he says summoning a bar, “With your charming smile and welcoming energy, this job was made for you! Don't worry my friend. I can make this more welcoming! ...If you wish.”

Husk stares at the bottle of cheap booze that Al summoned for him and exclaims, “What? You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?! ...Well, you can!”

Vaggie starts yelling while gesturing at the bar, “Hey, hey! Hey, hey, hey! No! No bar, no alcohol! This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of mouth…brothel…man cave!”

Angel lunges at her effectively cutting her of and yells “SHUT UP! SHUT! UP! We are keeping this!”

“So, whaddaya think?” Al asks Charlie.

“This is amazing!” she answers happily rubbing her cheeks.

“It's... okay,” vaggie answers less enthusiastically while her arms crossed.

“Hahaha! This is going to be very entertaining!” Al pulls the three of us in and starts his little parody of the song Charlie sang that we listened to earlier.

“Hah! Well, well, well. Look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet yet again, Alastor!” Sir Pentious greets valiantly making me smile.

Alastor only responds with, “Do I know you?”

He visibly deflates like a balloon and retaliates, “Oh, yes you do! And this time, I have the element of- SURPRISE! Ahaha! I'm so evil!”

With the power in Alastor’s hand he immediately shuts down Sir Pentious’ little parade. Summoning a portal of his black tendrils and smashing the blimp into bits. We watched as it was broken apart and him being thrashed around, making me feel bad for the poor guy.

“...Well, I'm starved! Who wants some Jambalaya? My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Hahaha! You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Ohoho, I'm on a roll! Yes, sir! This is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now... Stay tuned…”

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Two

Summary: You decide to finally do something for yourself and ease your mind Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Not too much for this chapter in particular besides mentions of domestic violence BUT yändere, manipulation, self harm, cheating, explicit language, smut, angst throughout the rest of the story a/n: Since you guys seem to be really liking this story I worked hard to get chapter two out quickly! Let me know what you think! p.s. Fuck me y'all I literally deleted chapter 2 but luckily I write on wattpad and I was able to restore it. I was literally about to cry Requested by the lovely: @kkusadmirer 💜

We had another fight. 

Honestly I don't even remember what it was about, something stupid like I left the door open after I came in with the groceries and forgot to lock it. Or maybe it was the fact that I actually left the house and got them instead of just ordering them to get dropped off on the doorstep. 

He always tells me it's too dangerous out there or that I should just wait for him to go with me instead. If I did that though we would never have any food here and I'm not about to order takeout for every meal. 

I don't understand why leaving the door open would be such an issue. We live in a relatively nice complex and our neighbors always make sure to look out for me so I don't understand why something as simple as that could set him off. 

But then again it doesn't take much to set him off these days, I guess it was something I should've expected. 

He hasn't been home for two days and at this point I've decided that maybe it's time I went out for the night. Nothing crazy or anything but just, out. 

Putting on yet another turtleneck I make sure that the old and new marks are covered. I've taken it a step further and put some makeup on to make sure that no one will notice. Although I doubt anyone would notice me anyways since I usually fade into the background. 

But tonight isn't about feeling insecure in myself. Tonight is the night where I finally do something on my own and get out of the house. 

Taking out my phone I look up the address for the local pub I've decided to go to, making sure to wear comfortable boots since it's a little ways away. I'm luck that it's winter right now so bundling up is normal, making my outfit even less suspicious. 

Taking a couple of deep breaths I reach for the handle, unlock the door and step outside. 

'Should I really be doing this?' I question but before I'm able to second guess myself I hear our next door neighbor unlock her door as well and step outside her door.

"Oh, y/n. What a pleasant surprise! It's been a while since I've seen your pretty face" she says scanning my features, clearly having heard the fight we had had the other day and making sure that I look okay. 

"Hi Mrs. Mitchell. How have you and Mr. Mitchell been?" I ask, returning her warm greeting but feeling awkward talking to someone that isn't Taehyung or my editor. 

"As well as we could be I suppose. Harry just turned 73 last month so he's been complaining about how old he his and how his knees don't work the way they used to. What can you expect when you get to our age?" she says, chuckling at her husband who is a few years younger than her.

"Seems like no matter how old men get, they still whine and complain whenever they get sick or injured" she continues, clearly trying to lighten my spirits. "I guess so" I say, not daring to bad mouth Taehyung since he's probably already gotten a pretty bad reputation around here with everything we've been through over the past few years. 

Sometimes I'm surprised by the fact that we haven't gotten evicted with all of the noise complaints we've gotten. 

He always makes me answer each and every call from our building even though he's the one responsible for a majority of the noise but he always makes sure to stand close by to make sure I don't ask them to send help no matter how severe things have gotten. 

"Where are you off to?" she asks taking note of the fact that it's getting late in the evening. "I figured I might just head over to the pub a few streets down and see if I can clear my head for a while" I say, not bothering to give more information than necessary. Not that there would be any more information to give. 

"Good for you dear! It's always good to go out and get a new perspective on life. Let me know anytime if you need any help alright? Oh and I'm so excited to read your next book!" she says and with that last part catching me off guard. "You've read my books?" I question, taken aback and almost embarrassed at the fact that a woman of her age would be reading the type of genre I write, let alone my own. 

"Of course dear! As soon as I found out that you were a writer I went straight to the bookstore and bought all of them! You really are very talented" she finishes, with a glimmer of admiration in her eye. 

"Thank you so much, your support means the world to me, truly" I finish and she quickly shoo me off, apologizing for holding me hostage. 

"Next time I see you I'll sign your copies if you'd like" I offer and the look on her face is absolutely priceless. 

"I'll make sure to have them sitting by the front door with a pen in hand!" she beams and I wave one last goodbye before I make my way to my destination. 

~~~~

Walking in the doors of The Blue Pearl I'm greeted by the sound of soft rock being played in the background and a low murmur of the small amount of people spread through out. This pub seems to be a little old fashioned so I guess it's not a big draw for the younger rowdier crowds. Which was exactly what I was looking for. 

Just a slow night to clear my head and a strong drink to drown my sorrows. Knowing me though I'll probably stop after one or two drinks. 

I decide to sit at the bar on the stool closest to the wall and wave the bartender over. 

"Surprise me, something sweet but something strong" I say trying to sound as confident as I can. "You got it" she says and comes back soon with a pink drink of some sort a few moments later. "What is this?" I ask after taking a sip, already dying for another one at the fruity but subtly sweet drink. 

"I like to call it The Slut Puppy" she says with a proud smile. I tilt my head when I look at her, confused as to how she came up with the name. "I'm still workshopping it to be honest but your reaction to the name definitely played true to the puppy part. I laugh realizing that I subconsciously played into her game and she laughs right along with me. 

"Long night?" she asks after I've settled in, using her bartender powers to see right through my act while walking away a bit to clean up the shaker she had used to make my drink. 

"Try long life" I say, rolling my eyes before taking a sip of my drink again, sighing in contentment. "That bad huh?" she laughs bitterly, knowing one way or another that what I'm dealing with is beyond fucked. "Let's just say the best part of my week so far has been this drink" I and steal a quick glance at her, embarrassed that my words are flowing so easily to a complete stranger. 

"But it's Saturday night" she say with her brows pinched together. "Exactly" I say and before I can even ask she decides to grab another shaker and makes me another drink which I accept with a somber smile. "I put some extra ice in this one so don't worry it's not gonna go straight to your head" she says, looking out for me as if she were someone I had known for my whole life. 

"I'm y/n by the way" I say, hoping to move from strangers to acquaintances at the very least. "Rae" she answers before tending to another patron. 

"So y/n" she starts as she makes her way back over to me "what do you do?" she asks, maintaining conversation but not trying to pry when it comes to what I'm clearly upset about. 

"I'm a writer" I answer and her interest is immediately peaked. "A writer? Really? What do you write about?" she asks, leaning up against the counter so she can hear me a bit better. 

"To be honest my stories are pretty fucked up romance novels" I say scratching the top of my head feeling a bit awkward at the confession. 

"Sounds like my type of book" she laughs. I let out a breath, thankful that I won't have to explain myself to her since this genre isn't everyone's cup of tea. "So what are some books that you've written? Maybe I've read one before" she says going back to cleaning up a few things, making sure to use her time wisely. 

"Well 'Trials of the Broken' is one of them. It's my best seller at the moment. I'm actually working on writing the sequel right now" I respond, embarrassed but proud of my achievements all the same. 

"I think I've heard of that one! My friends have been trying to get me to read it but I never got around to it" she says, surprised at her chances of meeting me. 

"If you ever get around to it then let me know what you think" I say, now kicking myself for putting on the pressure for her to read it. "I definitely will" she says and makes her way over to the other side of the bar to serve some more patrons that just made their way inside. 

Glancing over at them I notice one that is a few steps behind the crowd, making me question if he's come here alone but I go back to looking at my drink, trying my best not to stare. 

My eyes somehow manage to drag themselves over toward him as he places his order and waits for Rae to make it. 

He takes off his hood and I'm met with first, the sight of his sharp jaw, then his shaggy hair he ruffled as soon as the hood dropped and finally his lips, the bottom one pierced twice rested in a soft smile. I realize though that the only way I would be seeing his full on smile would be if he was looking back at me and I make somewhat panicked eye contact with him before quickly turning my head in the other direction. 

'Great job y/n, drooling over the first hot guy you see. He's probably going to think I'm some sort of creep now' my thoughts thought are interrupted with the sound of what I believe to be is a drink set down on the counter a few seats away from me. 

"Is it alright if I sit here?" a smooth baritone voice says, making butterflies fill my stomach. 

"Um yeah sure" I say, taking a sip of my drink before glancing at him, quickly looking away again before I start to stare again. 

"So how's your night going?" he asks, clearly in an effort to make small talk. 

"It's going. How about yours?" I question back and see that he's no longer looking at me, instead watching as he swirls his mystery drink around in his cup. "About the same" he chuckles, clearly amused with both of our lack of effort to divulge any details. 

We sit there for a second or two in silence before Rae walks over and gives me another drink. I watched her make it and I can tell she she went even easier on the alcohol this time and makes sure to question nonverbally if I'm alright to which I nod. 

"What are you drinking?" he asks, smiling at the visual of the bright pink drink with two cherries placed on top. "You're gonna laugh" I say, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear, feeling a little apprehensive saying words like this to a complete stranger (a hot one at that).

"It's-" "It's called a Slut Puppy" Rae interrupts from the other side of the bar, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was clearly listening. "Um yeah, that" I chuckle, taking a big sip of it to hopefully calm my nerves. 

"A slut puppy?" he asks, flashing an amused smile at me, sending my heart beat into overload. "Her name, not mine" I laugh awkwardly. Trying, but failing at sounding normal but from the looks of it he doesn't seem to mind. "Right" he says dragging out the first syllable before taking a sip of his drink. 

"Do you guys know each other?" he asks, curious as to who our not so secret eavesdropper is. "Kinda. We just met. Although it almost seems like I've known her my whole life" I say smiling at her, thankful for the fact that she was able to lift my spirits so easily. 

"It's nice when you meet people like that" he says and when I bring my attention back over to him I can tell that he's been looking at me for a while, making me shy all over again. 

"Oh, I'm Jungkook by the way" he says holding out his hand, and I turn my stool towards him and shake it, fixing what would've been an awkward angle if I had stayed in place. He after seeing what I had done decides to turn as well, angling his body towards me and I notice now that there's only one seat between us. A respectful distance, making me feel a bit more comfortable talking to him. 

"I'm y/n" I say and he gives me a soft smile, whispering my name under his breath, almost as if he were trying to keep it as a secret all for himself. "So y/n, what's your story?" he asks, withdrawing his hand at almost the same time I do and goes back to taking another sip of his drink, making sure to keep his sparkly eyes trained on me. 

'Sparkly? Y/n you are a married woman. You shouldn't even be talking to this guy'.

"My story? Well to be honest there's not much to tell. I grew up and went to school in the city and now I'm a writer. There's not much else to my life if I'm being honest" I say, doing my best to maintain conversation but also not give away too much. 

"That ring on your finger says otherwise" he says, nodding towards it and playing around with his straw. Not in an abrasive way but more as if to remind me of something else that I might've forgotten.

"Oh, um yeah" I say, showing him the ring up for a second to confirm his suspicions but pull my sweater down to cover it up a second later, hoping he won't ask anything else about that aspect but unfortunately luck is not on my side in that department tonight. 

"Is that why you're here? Needed to get away for a while?" he asks, curious but not insinuating anything that I would expect a guy of his age would be asking me. "I guess you could say that" I say taking a deep breath deciding that if he's asking I might as well get the male perspective while I can. 

"With being a writer and everything I'm pretty much cooped up in the house all day. Which for me is fine and it's been like that for a few years" I say, taking a second to try and figure out how to formulate my next words carefully, not wanting his to worry or judge the situation too much.

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' here" he chuckles and takes another sip of his drink and waves at Rae in an effort to get both of us both another drink without me noticing to avoid protest. "But" I start out, confirming his suspicions. "with my husband being used to me doing that all the time he tends to get a bit, how should I say this..." I trial off, still not sure how to phrase it. 

"Controlling?" he offers, a bit more blunt than his other responses. "Worried" I counter, although his word is more accurate than mine. He nods a bit, clearly not believing my words but doesn't press in hopes that I will continue. "He's worried that something might happen to me if I go out alone. That someone might recognize me because of my books and try to do something like kidnap me" I say, fully confident in my words.

I hear Jungkook snort beside me a second later, leaving me looking over at him with my brows scrunched up. "What's so funny?" I ask, confused and almost annoyed by his reaction. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry continue" he says doing his best to calm down. "No, what about that is so funny?" I press as I can clearly see that he's still trying to hold his laughter in. 

"I'm sorry y/n it's just, well isn't kidnapping a little bit of a stretch?" he says, clearing his throat and breathing through what he thought was a ridiculous excuse. "Woman and children get kidnapped everyday! Look up the statistics!" I retort, trying to convince him that there's truth to Taehyung's argument. 

"Yes, I know that it happens a lot, but you can't let that keep you from going outside and living life. It's a horrible thing and I don't understand why anyone would do such a thing but you can't use it as a way to cripple yourself from ever leaving your house" he says, this time being completely serious and trying his best to convince me that I shouldn't be living like this. 

"I'm out now aren't I?" I argue, and to that he nods his head but presses further. "How long has it been since you've been out like this though?" he asks and I just let my head droop a bit in response before taking a sip of my new drink. 

"Well I'm proud of you for coming out tonight and doing this for yourself. And look, you're completely safe. Plus seems like you've already made two new friends tonight" he laughs motioning to himself and Rae and when I look over at her all I can see is her bright smile, happy to see me getting more comfortable. 

"Who knows though, you might just be acting nice to me just so I'll let my guard down so you can kidnap me" I tease and at that he acts like he's offended, throwing his hand over his heart as if I had shot him. 

"You hurt me with your words. It's a shame though, I was just in the market for a new best friend" he says, wiping away a fake tear. "Or in the market for some fresh meat" I continue laughing at his act. "Twist the knife why don't you" he says, now resorting to pouting. 

"Aw, it's okay I didn't mean it" I say patting his shoulder in an effort to apologize. "You better not" he says looking at me, still pouting. "Come on, let's turn that frown upside down. Why don't I buy you a drink?" I ask as a way to make amends. 

"No that's alright, I've actually gotta get going" he says, pulling out his wallet and placing some cash on the counter to more than cover his drinks. "Let me get you some change" Rae steps in, quick to help since she is otherwise unoccupied. "No it's okay, use it to cover us both and then keep the change" he says as he straightens out his jacket a bit. 

"No you don't have to do that" I argue and go to take some cash out of my purse as well. "It's okay I got it. But if you want to make it up to me I'll always take your number as payment" he says with a cheeky smile. 

"Just as friends of course! I would never want to seduce a married woman" he says, jumping over himself, making me sure I know his intensions are pure. 

"Can we do email? I spend most of my time on my computer so it's easier for me" I say, making excuses as to not giving it to him. "As long as you promise not to mark my messages as spam" he jokes and hands me his phone so I can add it in. "I promise. It was really nice to meet you Jungkook" I say handing it back to him, our hands touching a few moments longer for it to be seen as something with the promise of being platonic. 

"Take care" he says giving me a soft smile and then waves at Rae, clearly seeing her not even bothering to hide that she's staring at us. 

"Bye" I say under my breath, not knowing how to feel about anything now that he's gone. 

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[iamknicole]

Chapter Fourteen

A/N: I doubled back for yall! This chapter flowed more easily than the previous one so I got it done quicker! Pay attention when you're reading😌 ⭐LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG & SHARE⭐ Enjoy!

Warnings: Cussing, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

DO NOT REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN!

Masterlist

Chapter Thirteen

When Hassan brought Nadine home to meet his parents and little sister he was nervous. His palms sweated profusely no matter how many times he wiped them on his pants, they never dried. His stomach twisted into knots as he walked her through the home to the living room to meet them. But today standing on his sister’s front porch he didn’t feel any of those things. His nervousness was replaced with giddiness, his palms didn’t sweat and his stomach remained neutral. Internally realized no matter how he once felt about Nadine that she was not the woman he should have been with all those years, it was the woman whose hand he held, whose hand he gently caressed as they waited. The door opened and Gabi flung herself at her older brother, hugging him tightly around the neck saying how glad she was to see him as Tamara discreetly pulled her hand from his to give them room. There was a smile on her face as she watched them.

“I missed you too, Gabi. You act like you ain’t seen me in months,” he laughed, squeezing her back just as tightly. “Alright, alright, let me go.”

Gabi squeezed him one more time before letting go. “Its been like two weeks since I’ve seen you and you know that hasn’t happened since you moved back here from Texas.”

He glanced to his right at Tamara then back at his sister. “I been busy but Ima do better. I don’t want you cryin’ to Mama.”

Gabi’s brow raised looking between him and Tamara. “And I know exactly what and who you’ve been busy with. Nice to finally meet you, I’m Gabi.”

Tamara stuck her hand out but was pulled into a tight, brief hug. “I’m Tamara,” she laughed after being let go. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh girl, I know who you are. My brother tells me about you all the time but the pictures he showed me did not do you justice. You’re even prettier in person.”

At that Tamara turned to stare at Hassan. “Pictures? What pictures?”

“Don’t worry,” Gabi laughed, pulling them both into the house. “They were good ones. I mean he is an artist after all. He has never taken a bad picture of anyone. Not even that witch Na,” she was cut off by him clearing his throat.

“Be nice, Gabriella. I keep telling you that.” He warned playfully.

“You’ve been telling me for years to be nice and hasn’t worked yet. Oh … before I forget there’s something I need to tell you two.”

“What did you do?” He asked in an accusatory tone.

She shook her head. “No, no, it wasn’t me. It was your nephews and their big mouths that they definitely got from their father.”

“What could they have possibly told?” He asked, sure there was nothing they could have told Nadine. They didn’t like her and even if they did, he had made sure not to tell Gabi that he was taking Tamara to meet his ex-wife because of her big mouth. He watched her fidget for a second. “What is it?”

“Weeeell they may have spilled that you were bringing Tamara over to meet us.” She said quickly, making Tamara laugh.

“To whom, baby sister?"

Immediately Hassan’s eyes moved from his sister to the direction the other voices came from. He couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips.Their parents were there and there was no doubt as soon as Shirley DeBreaux found out about this impending visit she got up right then and made Rome DeBreaux drive her two hours from Columbus to Atlanta to be a part of it Hassan reached out for his girlfriend’s hand.

“It’s okay, Gabi. It saves me a trip,” he admitted with a shrug. “You’re gonna meet my parents as well. They’ll like you but Mama can be a bit much. It’s where Gabi gets it from. If that’s not okay, if you not ready I can take you home. They’ll understand.”

Tamara smiled up at him, her brows creasing a bit. “I don’t why you think I scare so easily but I’m okay. I’m happy to meet everybody, I want to.”

Gabi grinned, grabbing her hand from Hassan, pulling her along leaving him to follow behind them. “See I knew I liked you. You’re way better than that ole raggedy witch Nadine.”

“Gabriella,” Hassan called out over their laughter. “Don’t laugh, Tam. She know that ain’t nice.”

As soon as they entered the living room, Shirley’s reaction to Tamara undoubtedly ended all other conversations. With her hands to her face, she approached Tamara with a wide, genuine smile on her face. 

“Oh my goodness. Girl, look at you,” she gushed loudly, taking one of Tamara’s hands to spin her around. “Aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Thank you,” she responded softly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. DeBreaux.”

With a playful swat to her leg, Shirley pulled her into a tight hug, rocking them back and forth. “You quit all that ‘mrs’ stuff out, you will call me mama just like the rest of my children.”

“Yes ma’am. You’re so pretty and I love your hair. I kind of feel like I know you already. San talks about you and his dad all the time,” Tamara admitted taking a peak around her to everyone else.

Shirley moved to hug her son then swatted his arm. “Yeah well my son didn’t mention you to me. If Malcolm and Monte didn’t tell me, I would have never gotten to meet you.”

“Mama, I was gonna bring her to meet you and dad. I was just starting with Gabi and her crew first. They live here.” He assured her with a smile.

“I’m only two hours away, see how quickly I got here and I didn’t find out until about four hours ago,” she continued on as she brought Tamara further into the living room. “Alright now this is Hassan’s father, Rome and believe you me they are just alike. It’s almost like he spit him out they act so much alike.”

Rome stood, wrapping her in a warm hug. “It’s very nice to meet you, young lady. How’s my son treating you?”

“Very good. I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t, Mr. DeBreaux,” she shrugged playfully. 

“Please call me Dad or Rome. You’re family or I assume you will be soon,” he hinted more to his son than to Tamara before sitting back down. Hassan chuckled softly in response as he rubbed lazily through his beard.

Pulling her away from her mother, Gabi turned Tamara’s attention to her husband and kids. “This is my husband, Tyler Scott and our twins, Malcolm and Monte. Boys, this is Tamara. Remember the nice lady I told you about.”

Tyler stood briefly to shake her hand, offering her a bright smile. “Nice to meet you, Tamara. I’m really glad you’re finally here, Gabi has been talking our heads off about you coming.”

“Yeah and making us clean,” Monte mumbled loud enough for the adults to hear. Tyler pinched his son’s arm. “Ow! She did though. She woke us up to that old music and we all know what that means.”

“Right and she only supposed to do that two Saturdays out the month and today ain’t saturday.” Malcolm added with a similar mug to his brothers.

Tamara laughed, reaching to give both boys hugs. “Well I’m sorry she had you up cleaning early. How old are you two?”

“Thirteen,” they answered simultaneously.

“Uncle San, she gon be our new auntie?” Monte asked loudly.

Hassan slowly approached them, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I think that’s up to her, boys. We’ll see how she feels by the end of the night.”

Malcolm groaned. “You never give us real answers, Unc. When Rye comin to visit? She always got the answers.”

Hassan jumped at them playfully, laughing when they jumped back. “Yall gon sell me out for Rye so I ain’t telling yall. How bout that?”

The boys soon started to nag him, trying to jump all over him which he gave right back to them. Soon they were slap boxing with each other. Gabi grabbed her mother and Tamara’s attention, telling them to follow her to the kitchen. She grabbed the open bottle of wine from her refrigerator pouring three glasses.

“Gabi told me that Hassan really liked you while we were waiting and forgiving me if I was a bit skeptical considering Nadine,” Shirley took a small sip of her wine. “He really liked her too or he claimed to. I tried to tell him not to keep being with that girl but he was young, did what he wanted to do.” Tamara sipped from her wine, acknowledging the older woman with a nod. “But once I saw you and him together, I saw what Gabi had been telling me. He loves you. I can see it.”

“Like.” Tamara corrected.

“Oh no, baby.” She laughed with a shake of her head. “I said what I meant. I raised him, I know when my babies are in love.”

Feeling that the conversation may have gotten unintentionally heavy, Gabi butted in to save Tamara from any heat. “You’ve met his babygirl, right?”

Slowly, Tamara tore her gaze away from Shirley, settling on Gabi. “I did. I actually met them both at the same time. I approached him in the mall in Orlando and she was with him. And I’ve talked to her on the phone quite a few times since him and I have been dating. She’s a sweet girl.”

“She is. Thankfully nothing like her mama,” Gabi mumbled, earning a pointed look from her mother. “I’m just saying, Mama. You know I’m right.”

Shirley sighed, sitting her glass down. “Have you met Nadine yet?”

“No ma’am but she knows about me,” she glanced at Gabi, who was smiling. “And She knows that I know about her.”

“You just be careful with her and whenever you cross paths with her. That girl,” Shirley’s voice trails off for a moment, “She got some kinda evil in her. A demon if I ever seen one before.”

“Now, Mama,” Gabi laughed, “She is a terrible person but she not a demon though.”

“The hell you preach. That girl is a demon. The way that she treated my son and his baby. Tuh, lucifer must have placed her on Trenice’s porch cause I know she didn’t raise her that way.”

This is the most honest opinion Tamara’s heard about Nadine so she leaned into the conversation. Although she was in shape or form worried about clashing with her it was important to Tamara to really know what she was dealing with. When her and Hassan discussed his ex-wife, he was still very polite and honest to a point. He never told her the extent of things that she had done to Moriah because he didn’t want to share her business without her permission. The only thing he did tell her about was the abortion during one of their late night talks. When he spoke to her about Angel, he cried like it was still fresh. The loss of his first grandchild and the pain that it caused his only child hurt him and what hurt more is that he wasn’t there to stop it from happening. From what he confided in her, that was the first time he really regretted leaving Texas and not making Moriah come with him. Guilt still ate him up. He wished that he would have just disregarded what Moriah said she wanted and forced her to come to Atlanta with him.

For once, Gia was nowhere to be found in the performance center. From what Bronco heard she had some family emergency so she would be gone for a few days and wouldn’t see them talking to Trick. After the friends decided that they were going to put Trick onto her, they took a couple days to plan out how they were going to do it and now were satisfied. 

On a break from their workout, the two approached Trick who was doing curls. They sat on the floor near the bench he sat on prompting him to sit the dumbbell down and remove his earbud from his ear. He eyed them carefully.

“Yall look like yall up to some shit. What yall got goin on?” He asked picking the dumbbell back up.

“We ain’t up to shit.” Zilla laughed. “We just wanted to holla at you real quick.”

He nodded for them to go on.

“We know you been tryna settle down so we wanted to help you out cause ya game is clearly nonexistent,” Bronco joked. 

He sucked his teeth. “I got game, just ain’t been tryin. That’s all.”

Zilla lifted his hands in surrender. “Aye, mane, whatever you say. But look, we know you want somebody that understand this wrestlin shit and you travelin all the time so we found you somebody.”

“And we heard she think you kinda cute. So all you gotta do is use that nonexistent ass game and ask her out,” Bronco added.

Trick stared at them clearly contemplating continuing with his curls. “Who is it that yall think yall found for me?”

“Gia.”

Trick stared at them, recalling Gia in his mind. “Green eyed girl that do the backstage interviews?” The two men nodded making him smile. “Oh word? She is kinda cute and she be givin me them bedroom eyes from time to time.”

Zilla clapped his hands excitedly.“Aight so when she come back, ask her out on a date.”

“Bet Ima do that. Preciate yall for lookin out.”

The two left him, going back to the locker room to have their conversation in private. To be honest neither of them were a hundred percent sure that Gia would even go for it but they have witnessed Trick talk to enough girls that he at least got a first date. No matter what they planned to stay informed with how their relationship would go. 

“You think that shit gon work out?” 

Zilla huffed loudly, taking a seat on one of the benches. “Shit, I hope so. If it don’t and she keep this shit up, Fat gon whoop her ass. I told you what she asked me Tuesday?”

“Nah. What sis say?”

“Her exact words were ‘did that bitch have her hands on you tonight?’ And shit, it caught me off guard so I’m like who,” he recounted bringing the memory back to the forefront of his mind, “And she was like that frog eyed bitch. So I’m like nah and she basically told me if she don’t stop, she gon beat Gia ass.”

Busting out laughing, Bronco took a seat on the bench opposite of Zilla. His dislike of Gia was mutual among them all so anytime he heard Moriah or Toni dogging her ass out, he was going to enjoy it. 

“Yoooo sis is wild. She called her a frog eyed bitch? You deadass?” He asked through his laughter.

“Deadass, bro. She meant that shit too.”

Bronco went from laughing to scrunching his face at his friend. “Why you smilin like that, fool?”

He shook his head. “It ain’t nothin.”

Bronco watched him until it clicked. “Ayye! My boy! I know what that smile mean! That’s why yall ducked outta there!”

“Hell yeah. I’m surprised Toni ain’t trip about it.”

He waved him off. “Nah, she wasn’t goin to. She was too busy gettin on my ass.”

That admittance made Zilla’s nosey ass ears perk up. He didn’t want to know so he could tell anyone, he simply just liked to be in their business. To him that’s what friends do.

“What you do?”

“She was upset cause Javi was at home by himself but I told her he was straight, he did it all the time before me and her started.” Bronco shrugged. “And he usually with her on Tuesdays but you know she workin nights this week and I was workin so.”

“Oh damn. But Javi like 13 or 14. Ain’t it?”

“Yeah, he 13 but you know T worry so much cause of her job. I told her she hadda relax.”

Zilla stared at him. “You told her to relax? Last time I told Rye to relax she bit my damn head off. Cussed me out for like two hours.”

He laughed. Yeah, she was about to but yall walked back in so shit … saved by the bell. I did have to hear that shit when she got off though. She came straight to my house, made Javi breakfast then yelled at me while I was in the shower.”

“That’s what your ass get,” he laughed while checking his phone. “Shit, I gotta reschedule my therapy session.”

“Rye told you to do that shit two weeks ago. Ima tell.”

“Man,” he laughed, “I been busy. Ima do it though. Remind me when we leave her.”

“Nope, hell nah cause if I do or don’t and you don’t do it you gon throw my ass under the bus right along with you.”

The pediatric floor was quiet for the moment. The children that were on the floor were either sleep or medicated enough that they were in no pain. Dr. Miller took this time to get caught up on paperwork hoping to leave on time and not a minute after 7. This floor was what he always dreamed of, Dr. Harris made it even better for the last six years the older doctor had taken him under his wings and always encouraged him to do the same for others who were newly pinned. While Dr. Miller enjoyed doing this when he could, he did not enjoy one medical student in particular. 

“Dr. Miller, you got a second?”

A sigh escaped him. “Only if it does not interrupt my paperwork, Gardner. I need to be outta here on time, I have family matters to attend to.”

A wide smile stretched across Thomas’ face. “Nah, it won’t take long and won’t take your focus away.”

“I’m listening.”

“A few weeks ago I assisted Dr. Harris with a hernia surgery on a five year old and he told me that the mom called because what she thinks is complications from the surgery,” Thomas explained leaning against the desk.

“Okay,” Dr. Miller drug out impatiently. “What do you want me to do with that?”

“He assured her that it would pass but I … I think something might be wrong.”

The pen fell from Dr. Miller’s hand as he turned to give the younger man his undivided attention. “You think or you know? And be very sure with your answer.”

He shrugged. “I think, I can’t be completely sure.”

“Did you do something wrong that Dr. Harris didn’t catch?”

“If somebody did do something wrong and you think it could cause said complications. What would you do?”

Dr. Miller sighed, from the moment Thomas got to pediatrics he knew the young male would be an issue. It was at this moment he vowed to never take another student or newbie under his wing again, He didn’t give a damn what his mentor would say. Thomas had spoiled it for everyone that would come after him.

“Is it something that can pass or be fixed externally or is it something that needs to be handled internally?”

“Umm I’m sure it can be fixed externally.”

Another sigh. “Is it life threatening for said five year old?”

“It can be, yes.”

“Then you need to tell Dr. Harris what you did or I will. You have tomorrow afternoon.” Dr. Miller ordered turning back to his paperwork.

Thomas’ eyes went wide with panic. “Wait, no. It wasn’t me that did it.”

“Then who did it? And what did they do?” The doctor asked, now irritated.

“It uh it was a nurse. She may have caused an infection.” He spat his lie out quicker than he could stop it.

“Which nurse?”

Praying internally that this would all work out for the better with Nadine’s plan, Thomas utter Moriah’s name quietly. Dr. Miller’s head shot up, his eyes on Thomas not believing a word that was said.

“You know what, I’ll look into it. Don’t worry about telling Dr. Harris. I got it.”

“Are … are you sure? I can tell him.” He stuttered. “It’s probably nothing.”

Dr. Miller shrugged. “It probably is but I’ll check anyway. Unless there’s some reason that I shouldn’t.” He was giving Thomas the chance to backtrack and take ownership for whatever he was sure the man had done. When he shook his head the doctor gave him a final nod. “Okay then it’s out of your hands and into mine. Leave it be. Understand?”

“Yes sir but can you keep me updated?”

‘I’ll see what I can do. Gardner.”

One thing Dr. Miller learned during the time he worked with Moriah on pediatrics, he learned that she was very meticulous and followed the rules down to every period and comma. He knew there was no way it was her that did anything reckless to harm this young patient and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Thomas got the hint that the conversation was over, he grabbed his bag to leave the floor for the day praying that none of this came back to bite him in the ass. After finishing his paperwork Dr. Miller moved over to one of the computers accessing the files. He searched for a few minutes before he found the file he was looking for and picked up the receiver beside him to call the parents. 

“Hi, this is Dr. Miller from Lakeland General. I’m looking for the parents of Nia Jones.” He paused. “Yes, I heard that she was having issues … Yes ma’am … Yes ma’am … I’ll be in tomorrow morning for a little while and can see her then … Yes, 8 is fine. I’ll see her in the emergency department … Okay, see you all then. Have a good night.”

Something wasn’t clean in the water and he was going to get to the bottom of it. Now that he sat up an appointment, he moved on to his next step. Getting to the ED, he texted his family group chat to let them know that he had to change his fight out for the next day instead of later tonight while he waited on Toni. 

“Dr. Miller, what can I do for you?” She called out as she walked in the door.

He chuckled, going to hold the door of their breakroom for her. “How’d you know I wanted something ?” He asked, following her inside.

“Because you only ever come to the ED if you want something from me? So what’s up? I got fifteen minutes before my shift starts and I wanna use ten of those to call my mama.”

Dr. Miller helped her put her things in her locker. “You remember the hernia surgery Nurse DeBreaux helped with some weeks ago?”

“Yeah,” she answered slowly, “That was her first surgery. Why? Did something happen to that little girl?”

“No, no, no,” he said immediately, “Not yet at least.He goes on explaining to her the conversation he and Thomas had and what he had done. “Can you please stay a little longer in the morning to do the check up with me? I would ask Nurse DeBreaux.”

She nodded, finishing his thought, “But you don’t want it to look like a coverup just in case there is actually a complication from surgery. I got it, I’ll stay.”

“Thank you, I owe you. And I know I don’t need to say this but for now lets keep this between us. Don’t even tell DeBreaux.”

“Ooh I know. If I tell her that he’s tryna blame her for his negligence, she’ll kill em. She takes her work very seriously.”

“Trust me I know and I know he does to which is why I can’t understand why he would even try to put this on her.” Dr. Miller admitted.

Toni pulled out her ringing phone. “Trust me you don’t wanna know. I gotta take this, it’s my mama. I’ll see you in the morning.” She said quickly. “Oh and I’m sorry about your auntie.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. See ya.”

“I don’t know how we managed to stay away from each other for so long,” Nadine laughed, adjusting the covers over her nude body. “It’s always so much fun when we’re together.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You like to play coy with me and luckily for you, I like it.” 

Dewayne pulled her across the bed to him, moving a few of her drop curls from her face. It wasn’t often that he felt this stress free and calm, it was only when he was in her presence. No matter how many times she turned him down for something more serious, he couldn’t let go of her. When he met Hassan, he could see how much their affair affected him but Dewayne was honest with himself–no matter how much pain it would cause, he wouldn’t stop. The Nadine he knew and the Nadine everyone else were two different people to him. They needed to dig beyond that tough exterior, the armor she wore to the rest of the world and see the sweet, loving, brilliant woman on the inside. 

“I do not play coy with you.” She argued, meeting his gaze.

“You do so. Ducking my calls and texts, only responding when you want to. Youtube me up on my offer to go to dinner every once in a while and then nothing.”

She shrugged. “As you said that’s what you like about me. I’m just giving you what you want, DJ.”

He tickled her sides until she was out of breath and gasping for him to stop. “What I want is for you to stop playing coy with me and just be with me.”

“You’re married.” She answered softly.

“And so were you once upon a time. I keep telling you that all you have to do is say those magic words and she’s gone,” he reiterated, caressing her cheek softly. “I remember the first day I met you. Ava was what five had gone through so many appointments with therapists and shit until finally her doctor sent me to you. You remember that?”

She snorted. “How could I forget? You stormed into my office and demanded for her to be seen right then, instead of ten minutes later. And still ended up waiting the ten minutes because we argued back and forth.”

“I was tired of being jerked around from place to place,” he chuckled, “But you got your way anyway. I was so drawn to that fierceness that I would make her double appointments every week.”

“Mmhm and then after a month you finally asked me out.”

“And you told me it would never happen, that you were a married woman.” He recounted. “That didn’t stop me though. I always get what I want.”

She moved closer to him, resting  her head on his arm. “Hmm not always.”

“I’ll get it eventually. Now,” he sighed, “It’s been two days. Are you ready to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“It’s Moriah.”

“What’s going on with her? I’m surprised she hasn’t called yet. She usually calls when you haven’t been home.”

“She’s not in Texas anymore. She moved to Florida with that boyfriend of hers.”

He smiled. “The doctor? Alright, that’s great. Why don’t you sound happy? Isn’t that what you wanted for her?”

“No, not with the doctor. She’s with your cousin or whatever he is to you.” At that Dewayne frowned. The cousins he had in Florida he was sure were all married or taken in some fashion. “Isayah. Eddie’s son.”

“He’s out of jail?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, he’s been out for two almost three years now. You really don’t keep up with your family. Do you?”

“Not all of them, no. Do you know how many of them there are?” He asked with a chuckle. “But wow … I thought the doctor boy was gonna propose and everything.”

“He was and he did but she turned him down. She was and still is stuck on that jailbird boy.”

He kissed her head bringing her close for a quick hug, his laughter vibrating through his body and hers. “Listen, I know how badly you wanted her with someone else but sometimes as parents we have to let our kids make their own choices.”

“But she’s making the wrong ones and she’s mad at me because I’m trying to help her. Call herself not talking to me. I haven’t talked to her since Thanksgiving.”

“And by trying to help her, you mean trying to make the choice for her. Right?”

“Yes, but–,”

“No buts if she’s happy let her be. This is not that serious for you and her to have gone almost a year without talking, Nadine. I know you miss her and she misses you.”

There were lots of things Nadine neglected to tell Dewayne about, she didn’t want him to judge her the way her loved ones had done. While he knew about the small things Moriah did and how she was punished, Nadine never uttered a word to him about the pregnancy and the things she did because of it. The abortion, Moriah’s and hers, alone would be enough to push him over the edge knowing that he is a die hard pro-lifer. And that was just not a risk she was willing to take.

“I don’t know about her missing me but I do miss her.”

“See? So why don’t you put the need for control in the backseat and put your love for your daughter in the front?” He suggested kissing her neck.

“You mean stop trying to get her to break up with him and let them be together? Even if I know she’s gonna regret it later.”

He chucked, still kissing her neck. “Yes, that's exactly what I mean. Can you do that? If not for Moriah then do it for me. Please, beautiful?”

She stewed over the thought for a few minutes with her thoughts going fuzzy every few seconds because of his ministrations. “Fine, DJ, fine. I’ll lay off.”

“Good,” he cheered, moving to smile widely at her, “Now let me show you just how proud of you I am.”

The next morning as promised Toni waited for Dr. Miller. She stood beside him as he checked the little girl and went over her x-rays with the parents. The only thing he had yet to receive were the results from her blood work.

“Has she been feeling woozy or tired lately? Fever? Vomiting?” Dr. Miller asked, still checking nia.

Her mom spoke up first with a worried glance. “Not woozy but more tired than usual. Fever comes and goes and so does the vomiting.”

“How long after the surgery did this start?”

The parents looked at each other lost for an answer for a moment. “Umm,” the father stuttered trying to think, “Maybe a week or so after. But it started to get worse a few days ago.”

Dr. Miller nodded, giving the little girl a quick smile. “So it sounds like it could just be an after effects from the surgery and all the medicine she was on but just in case it is an infection, I’m gonna prescribe her some antibiotics.”

“How are we gonna know if it is an infection?” 

He gives the mother a reassuring smile. “Her blood work should be back by noon today. If there is anything suspicious in there Dr. Harris will give you a call immediately.”

“Okay, thank you so much. Really, thank you.”

“Just doing my job. Gotta make sure babygirl is able to eat her spaghetti and meatballs,” he joked, lightly pinching Nia’s cheek.

As they left the room Toni and Dr. Miller made eye contact and moved to an unoccupied area of the ED. He folded his arms across his chest waiting to hear her thoughts.

“I’m no doctor but I think she has an infection. Miller.”

“I am a doctor and I’m quite sure she does too. But I think it was caught in enough time to cure it.”

“Don’t you think Dr. Harris is gonna wanna know why he has bloodwork for her after he already told her it would be fine.”

He nodded, huffing. “Yes and I’m about to go take care of that. He’s always here early, I’m gonna go talk to him now before I leave.”

Toni nodded, still feeling uneasy. “I’ll let you know if anything happens while you’re gone. But you know I’m gonna have to tell Rye.”

“I know, just please keep her from trying to kill him until we can sort this shit out.”

Toni threw her hands up. “I make no promises but I will try.”

After only getting three hours of sleep, Moriah was awakened by her boyfriend asking her to bring him his gym bag that he’d forgotten. Declining his favor was on the tip of her tongue from being so tired but she knew he would have done it for her so she begrudgingly agreed. The performance center wasn’t as busy as it usually was and for that she was grateful. Less people see her with a messy ponytail, Zilla’s shirt and biker shorts—aka as a bum. She wandered around the center for her boyfriend, figuring he was busy since he wasn’t answering her calls or texts. About to give up and leave it in the nearest, safest spot she spotted Josh and called out to him. With their distance, she couldn’t hear him suck his teeth as he turned to face him.

“Hey! What are you doing here? Zay didn’t tell me you were in town.” She hugged him quickly, still not realizing he didn’t really hug her back.

“Workin. Came to help out.” He muttered. “Why you here? I thought you was a nurse.”

She laughed, realizing he asked because of the bag. “Oh, I do. I actually should be at home, just got off a few hours ago. Zay forgot his bag so here I am.”

“Mmm. I’ll give it to him.” He told her going to reach for the bag. “You can go back home.”

“Actually, I kinda wanted to see him since I was here. I been working nights so we been missing each other. Can I go with you?”

Josh’s lip turned up a bit at the thought of her staying any longer but he didn’t wanna make a scene so he told her to follow him. Moriah had to almost jog to keep up with him with how fast he was walking which she chalked up to his long legs. They stood in the doorway where the practice rings were located.

“Awe, it’s been so long since I’ve seen him practice. I used to go all the time in Texas.” She gushed keeping her eyes on him.

Josh had no desire to hear her go on about a relationship he didn’t agree with so since the both of them were here without any interruptions, he would speak his mind.

“You ever thought that maybe what yall got goin on ran its course?” He asked softly.

“Um huh?” She was extremely confused by his question. It was weird to her to say the least.

He shrugged. “You know like high school sweetheart shit where you been together so long that yall start to hate each other. Start bein malicious and shit.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “No, Josh. We argue here and there but we’re good.”

“You say that now. Being with a wrestler ain’t easy, Ma. Soon enough he gon be on main roster, traveling city to city without you. It gets real lonely for some of them, so lonely that they start to stray while you at home thinking they faithful,” he explained, keeping his eyes on Zilla in the ring. “And then you start to get bitter cause he’d rather be with them ring rats than you. And the more bitter you get, the more vindictive you get. Take his house, take his kids and treat them kids like shit because you so damn mad at him when you should have left years ago.”

Moriah turned her body to face him, shock and anger on her face. She knew he was alluding got more than just Zilla. He was comparing them to her parents. 

“I know that my mother isn’t a great person but I am not her. And my daddy never cheated on my mama,” she spat seething.

To her words, Josh chuckled. “Your daddy may not have cheated but that doesn’t make any of it better. It makes it worse actually.”

“What? What are you talking about, Josh?”

“Your daddy ain’t cheat so he was being a good ass husband to your mama and she still dogged his ass out which included treating you like shit.”

She rubbed her face out of frustration. “Just spit whatever it is you’re tryna say out.”

He shrugged, “It’s simple. I don’t like you and I don’t want you with my cousin. Shit was cute when yall was kids but it ain’t cute no more. I’m tryna save my cousin from unnecessary hurt.”

“You … you think that I would do any of the shit my mama did?”

“Apples don’t be fallin too far from the tree, ma.You say you love em so love em enough to save him from your bitter, destructive ass genes.”

Not waiting to hear her response, he walked off towards the ring with the gym bag in tow. Feeling herself about to cry Moriah rushed away ready to leave, when she walked out of the front doors she ran face first into Bronco, almost knocking him down.

“Damn where the fire at, sis?” He joked, helping her find her balance. When she lifted her head his smile dropped. “The fuck you cryin’ for, sis? What Zay do? I’ll beat his ass for you, friend or not.” She shook her head frantically at his words. “No don’t beat his ass or no it wasn’t him?”

“It wasn’t him,” she croaked. 

“Then what’s goin on? What is it?”

She broke down right as she opened her mouth to explain it to him. He wrapped her in a comforting hug, rocking her gently. “Tell me whats up? Big bruh can’t fix what you won’t tell me.”

“Its his cousin. He hates me.” She cried.

Bronco pulled back from the hug so he could see her face. “You talkin about Josh? Zay just told you that?”

Again she shook her head. “No, Josh just told me. I came to bring Zay’s bag and he basically told me I’m just like my mom and to save Zay some hurt and leave him. I’m not like her, I’ve never acted like her. I don’t know why he thinks that.”

Bronco used his shirt to wipe her face then hugged her again. “Listen, don’t worry about his ass. You put him in the category with ya mom of people who don’t exist to you. That whole family love you, ya pops love you, me and T old ass love you,” he chuckled along with her, “And most importantly Zay love you. Aight? If he don’t, fuck em. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” she answered softly. “Thank you, B.”

“Ain’t nothin,” he shrugged, smiling down at her, “That’s what big bruhs do but if you really, really wanna thank me you can make some dinner before you go to work tonight. Ima be over there with Javi and you know his ass can’t cook for shit.”

She laughed, punching him in the arm. “He tries but okay, I’ll make dinner. Thank you again and please don’t tell Zay.”

“Oh I ain’t. He’ll take that man head off about you in here. But just know he gon catch that man at some point and I hope I’m there to help.”

Parting ways, they hugged and he kissed her head once more before she left. She headed for Target instead of going home to get what she needed to put together an easy dinner for the boys while Bronco went inside, headed for the practice rings. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Josh, not saying a word to him. He knew the older man could feel the animosity rolling off him and that’s exactly what he wanted.

“What’s up, Uce?” Josh greeted respectfully.

Bronco shrugged. “Nada.”

Getting the hint Josh went back to silently watching the squabble until it was done. When Zila approached them Josh offered his bag to him almost as a peace offering then moved in to hug him which the younger cousin accepted. 

“Fat still here?” He asked, slapping hands with Bronco.

“Nah. She gave me the bag and left.”

Bronco stared at his audacity. He was really about to sit here and lie but he remained quiet after his promises to Moriah.

“She ain’t say shit? You ain’t say shit to her, did you?” Zilla questioned as he unblocked his phone and went through his messages.

Josh shook his head. “Just that she wanted to talk to you since yall been missing each other cause of yall schedules and then something about being tired.”

Zilla nodded even though he was skeptical. “You straight, B? You look like somebody pissed you off?”

“I’m straight, man. People just got a lot of audacity these days. I ran into sis on her way out,” he offered up staring at Josh. “She must really miss you man. She was damn near in tears.”

“Damn, prolly do.” He agreed, missing the stare down. “Me and her ain’t actually seen each other and had a conversation since Tuesday night. Thank God she only got two more days overnight.”

“Right, I just had to remind her that you love her and ain’t shit gon change about that. Not working overnight or nothing else.”

“I appreciate tha–bruh what the fuck is this?” he exclaimed loudly trying to cut the loud video playing from his phone off. His outburst broke Bronco and Josh’s stare. “This shit, man.” They moved to stand on either side of him so they could see his phone. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

Bronco sucked his teeth. “I know that ain’t who I think it is.”

“Yeah its her ass.”

“Her who?” Josh asked, unable to tell from what he could see of the video.

Zilla sucked his teeth. “You bet not say shit about it to nobody or ima beat yo ass, mane. I’m serious.”

“I ain’t, uce. Who is it?”

“Its Gia delusional ass.”

“How you know it’s her? All you can see is titties and her pussy. Her face ain’t in it.” Josh asked, genuinely confused. Zilla exited the video then went to the messages she sent along with it, Josh read them aloud. “Missing you so much. Wish you were here. This is what you do to me. The hell?”

“And then her ass gon say it was a accident,” Bronco scoffed reading further down. “That shit wasn’t no fucking accident. You gotta tell, sis.”

“Man, don’t tell her shit.” Josh countered earning a stare from Bronco. “Look, if you tell her that it’s only gonna cause more problems. She gonna wanna know how the girl got your number, why she feel comfortable sending that shit, and a bunch of other shit. You wanna keep her ass so damn bad for whatever reason so just delete that shit and act like you never saw it.”

“Aye what you mean for whatever reason, bruh? They in love, that’s why he wanna keep my sis around,” Bronco barked.

“Whether I agree with the shit or not, he know I’m right. Delete that shit or you gon see Nadine ass come outta her quick as hell.”

Zilla pushed his cousin off reflex. He had been being cordial for the simple fact that he was at work and they were family. “Say, bruh. I already told you bout that shit. Watch your mouth about her.”

“Okay and I’m tryna help yo ass, uce, regardless of how I feel about the shit. I’m not tryna steer you wrong,” Josh reiterated, pushing his little cousin’s hands off of him. “Delete that shit and move on so you and her can stay in lalaland for a little longer.”

Knowing his friend, Bronco quickly stepped between them pushing Zilla back. As much as Bronco wanted to beat Josh’s ass, he knew better than to do it at work and with so many witnesses. 

“Look, don’t listen to him. Tell Rye the truth then we’ll go from there. Even if we gotta get Toni to keep her from beat that delusional bitch ass.”

Josh threw his hands up. “Who you gon listen to him or your big uce? I’m telling you delete that shit and keep it movin.”

Booker calling out for all three of them for something unrelated breaks up the back and forth. They act like everything is okay to get through their very long day of practice. 

While Dewayne slept, Nadine snuck out of the bedroom to the bathroom to call Thomas. She weighed her options with Dewayne’s help and decided she would give everything a rest. It was starting to drain her anyway.

“I’m glad you called, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Uhn uhn, whatever it is can wait,” she whispered.

“No, I promise it’s important, Ms. Nadine. I promise.” He pleaded.

She shushed him, waiting until he was completely quiet to talk. “I’m gonna take a step back from everything and think about things. I sincerely appreciate you for helping me out with this. And I know what you’re thinking I’m not giving up, just taking a well needed break,” she explained softly. “You take a break too. You focus on finishing the rest of your last year. Okay?”

“But I think you should hear this.”

“I don’t, Thomas, It’s okay, I'm not upset, just in need of a break. I’ll talk to you later.” She ended their call ignoring him calling her name. Pausing things felt almost right to her, made her feel a little better about things. Now all she needed to do was get things in order and make a trip or two to the east coast.

Thomas stood frozen in the middle of the aisle in Target, staring at his phone. He knew he fucked up and when Nadine found out about it she was going to hurt him. A cart hitting his brought him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry,” the person haphazardly threw out. Her voice startled him but he smiled nonetheless.

“It’s alright, Moriah. Its actually good I ran into you.’

She turned to glare at him. “If I would have known it was you I wouldn’t have bothered to apologize. Leave me alone.”

“Don’t be like that. I just need a few seconds,” he called out following her to the next aisle. “Please, Moriah.”

“First, I told you to only talk to me at work if you had to. Second, I told you to call me Nurse DeBreaux. Third, I know Zay and Bronco made it very clear that you are to stay your ass far away from me,” she spat not in the mood. With her emotions till all over the place from her interaction with Josh, she didn't need this shit with Thomas to add onto it.

He abandoned his cart, going to stand in front of hers. “Listen, it’s serious. It's about the little girl who had hernia surgery. Both of our careers could be in jeopardy.”

“What?” She snapped. “Spit it the hell out.”

“I think she developed an infection from something we did.”

She laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life, tears ran down her face.

“What’s … what’s so funny?”

“You!” She laughed. “Don’t you dare try to put me in anything that you did, Thomas. I did everything just how Dr. Harris asked me to. You were the one doing things when he turned away.”

“I did not,” he argued.

She glared at him. “You hear what I said. And if you try to bring me into this, whatever Zay promised to do to you is gonna seem like a walk in the fucking park when I’m through with you. Now, move!”

Moriah pushed her cart past him lightly grazing his toes when he moved. She was regretting ever getting back out of bed to take Zilla his bag because then her head wouldn’t be pounding, her feelings wouldn’t be hurt and she would be resting like she wanted. Her mind wondered if it was all really with the trouble, she knew it was though she was just in her feelings. One thing she was sure of was that her and Zilla needed to have two conversations. One about Thomas and the other about their relationship and keeping his cousin out of it.

[daisynik7]

The Apple of His Eye

Chapter 2: Friends In Low Places

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

cw: alcohol consumption, drunken behavior, karaoke, our couple gets handsy, FLUFF, a few mentions of popular songs in the English language

Summary: You meet Nanami’s friends for the first time. Plenty of alcohol is consumed and you all end up at a karaoke bar.  

Author's Notes: This is the second fluffy side story for A Bento For Kento! I personally love karaoke myself, and I truly believe that Kento does too! I rewrote this to omit most of the English-language songs that I originally mentioned (I name-dropped A LOT before), just because I don't think they'd sing only these type of songs doing karaoke in Japan. Also, this is partially inspired by this Youtube playlist, which was one of the first pieces of fan-made media that got me into Nanami LOL. Anyways, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/saradika.

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Near the end of October, Nanami receives a call from Gojo. They talk and text often, but this phone call in particular is a special one. “Nanamin! How’s it going buddy?” Gojo’s voice is peppy, as usual.

“I’m fine. What is this about?”

“I’m taking Shoko out for an early birthday celebration tomorrow night. She wants to go to this sake bar she likes. You in?”

“Tomorrow night?” Nanami confirms. 

“Yeah. Oh, and bring your girlfriend too,” Gojo adds cheerfully. “I’d love to meet her. Shoko is curious too.”

Nanami makes a strangled noise in his throat before asking, “Why?”

His friend chuckles. “Because it’s been three months since you started dating and I still know nothing about her. I’d like to find out who your mystery woman is.”

“I told you. She’s Nakamura’s older sister.”

“Yes, yes, I know all about the bentos and love notes, blah blah blah. But I want to hang out with her, get to know her better! She sounds like an angel if she puts up with you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! But seriously, bring her out with us. I already know Shoko and her will get along well. It’s only me she has to worry about,” he laughs mischievously.

Nanami tenses up, already annoyed at the type of shenanigans his colleague will pull out of his sleeves. “Gojo, I will not subject my girlfriend to any of your harassment.”

“I won’t harass her!” he whines. “Have I ever harassed any of your other girlfriends?”

“I’ve never introduced you to any of my other girlfriends.”

“Exactly. My track record is clean. C’mon. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

He takes a minute to contemplate. Introducing his girlfriend to Shoko isn’t the problem. He’s always had a respectable relationship with the laid-back doctor. However, exposing his sweet darling to the incorrigible Satoru Gojo…he shudders thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. Deep down, he knows nothing serious will happen. As much grief as he gives Gojo, Nanami still considers him one of his closest friends. However, he knows him too well; there’s no doubt Gojo will try to find ways to embarrass him in front of her. He finds pleasure in doing this, seeing Nanami’s face turn bright red after recounting one or several stories of their past together. 

He understands it’s an important step in any relationship to become acquainted to one another’s friends. He has already met hers, along with her immediate family. So far, Nanami has not introduced her to anyone in his life. His parents live too far to visit and as far as friends go, they are few and far between. Maybe this is a good opportunity to show her this part of his life. 

Eventually, he agrees. “Fine. Text me the details for tomorrow and we’ll meet you and Ieiri there.”

“Yay! Can’t wait. I’ll start making a list of questions to ask her. I’ll get Shoko to make a list too.”

Scowling into the phone, Nanami mutters, “I take it back, we’re not going anymore.”

“Kidding, kidding! Okay, see you tomorrow. Byeeeee!”

After they hang up, Nanami buries his face in hands. What did he get themselves into?

~~~

Saturday night, you and Nanami hold hands as you walk from the train station towards the sake bar. In your other hand is a small gift bag with a bottle of good Japanese whiskey that you picked up last night. Yesterday, your boyfriend informed you that you’ll be meeting two of his colleagues: Shoko Ieiri, who was his upperclassman at Jujutsu High, and the infamous Satoru Gojo. You’ve heard stories about this man, not only from Nanami, but from your brother Ren, who is currently Gojo’s student. Enough tales to have a vague idea of his personality. Playful, comical, a bit naughty, and constantly pestering your boyfriend. 

You have a strong feeling that the two of you will get along great. 

As you approach the entrance to the bar, you feel Nanami’s grip tighten around you. He turns to you with a clenched jaw and nervous look in his eyes. “I apologize in advance for anything outrageous Gojo does tonight. Please don’t think poorly of me after this encounter.”

You giggle, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Honey, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? I’m sure he isn’t as awful as you say he is. In fact, he sounds fun.”

He sighs. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. Once we enter this establishment, there’s no turning back. We are essentially hostages under his control the rest of the night.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, but before you finish your question, he leads you into the bar, amused and now slightly spooked at your boyfriend’s ominous warning. As you weave through the crowd of people, Nanami seemingly knowing where to go, you recall yesterday’s conversation. 

After Nanami informed you about Ieiri’s birthday celebration, he mentioned, “It might not just be the sake bar. Since it’s Ieiri’s birthday, we may be out the whole night. Knowing Gojo, he’ll drag us all over Tokyo.”

Over the past three months of dating, Nanami would drop little hints about what he and Gojo would do whenever they hang out. He’s mentioned drunk karaoke before. Singing is definitely not one of Nanami’s hobbies, at least when he’s sober. Your man doesn’t sing in the shower, not even in the car. Personally, you love karaoke, so naturally, you’re curious and excited to see where the night will end up, especially with Gojo supposedly calling the shots. The thought of Nanami doing belting out ballads fills you with glee. 

At a table near the back, there is a pretty woman with long brown hair sitting next to a taller man with snow white hair. He wears dark, stylish sunglasses over his eyes, despite being indoors. They’re chatting, the man animated as the woman listens, pausing when the two of you approach them. “Nanamin! You made it!” Gojo stands up to pat Nanami’s shoulder, Ieiri greets you with a kind smile. 

“Hello, Gojo, Ieiri. This is my girlfriend.” Nanami introduces you as you shake their hands.

“So nice to meet you!”

“Glad to finally meet you too,” Gojo responds with a polite grin.

After formally greeting Ieiri, you hand the bag to her, “Happy birthday. I hope you like it. Kento told me you don’t like receiving gifts, but I figured this might be something we can enjoy together sometime.”

She eyes you curiously before reaching into the bag. When she pulls it out to reveal the liquor, she brightens. “Oh, I like you. I like her, Nanami. Thank you so much, I love it. We’ll definitely be drinking this sometime, maybe even tonight.”

“Tonight? Shoko, we just got here!” Gojo exclaims. “We don’t know what the night has in store for us yet.” As you all take your seats, he gives you a wink with that last statement. 

Ieiri recommends ordering the flights, which come with four different types of sake. She gets one for each person besides Gojo; she orders him a non-alcoholic Lychee beverage while he orders food for the table. As you wait for everything to arrive, you make small talk with each other. Nanami is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but you still want to check on him. Under the table, you reach your hand to his knee, giving him a squeeze. He wraps his fingers with yours, squeezing back, indicating that he’s fine.

The beverages arrive first. The four of you cheers to Ieiri’s birthday and drink. You are by no means an expert on sake, but this one is the smoothest you’ve ever tasted, going down like water. Ieiri finishes it fast, then grabs hold of the second, holding it up at the center of the table. “Ready for the second one?” she asks, raising her brow at you and Nanami.

“Shoko, aren’t you supposed to sip on it slowly?” Gojo hides a little naughty smile behind his Lychee mocktail. 

Suddenly, Nanami downs his sake and raises his other glass towards her. “Cheers, birthday girl.” She smiles and they both chug their second shot, easily. 

This is going to be an interesting night.

~~~

Satoru Gojo is no doubt a powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer. Arguably, the most powerful Jujutsu Sorcerer in the world. Nanami can confidently acknowledge that about his friend. 

However, Satoru Gojo possesses another power, unrelated to Jujutsu Sorcery. This power is constantly used on Nanami whenever the two go out together. For some reason, Gojo has this innate ability to get Nanami drunk.

Nanami still can’t explain it. Maybe it’s Gojo’s lively personality, or his friend’s dislike for alcohol that causes him to drink it all himself. The main reason is probably because it’s fun going out with Gojo. Nanami can let loose around him. There’s no judgement; he can let go of all his inhibitions for the night. He knows Gojo will not think differently of him the next morning, even if he does tease him a little bit. Even with Ieiri can Nanami put his guard down. He knows these two quite well and feels comfortable with them. 

Since dating his sweetheart, he hasn’t felt any desires to get drunk with her. Being around her is fun enough sober; the idea of getting intoxicated with her has never even crossed his mind. But when he’s with his friends, he enjoys drinking. He has fun with them, especially when he loosens up a bit. And to be honest, he loveskaraoke. He’ll deny it like no other when Gojo teases him, but he can honestly admit that it’s one of his favorite activities to do. And the only way to get him to do it is if he has a few shots in him. 

He wants to show his girlfriend this side of him. He knows that like Gojo, his sweetie will not judge. In fact, he thinks she’ll enjoy seeing him like this. He’s curious about her too. What is she like when she’s tipsy? Does she like karaoke as much as he does? Will they take care of each other if they’re both hungover the next day? What song can they do a duet to?

On his last shot, Nanami starts to feel his cheeks warm up. Their food hasn’t come out, so drinking on an empty stomach is hitting him harder than he expects. He glances at his girlfriend’s flight, noticing she’s only on her third. Smirking, he teases, “Can’t keep up?”

“I’m not used to drinking sake! But I’ll catch up, don’t worry!” 

Her determination is cute. She is cute. He’s tempted to scrunch her adorable cheeks together and kiss her forehead, but luckily, he remembers he’s in front of his friends. 

“Don’t feel pressured to keep up with them! Believe it or not, Shoko can outdrink Nanami, and that’s saying something,” Gojo explains, casually sipping his juice. 

Ieiri, who has since ordered her second flight, raises a glass with a proud smile and downs it. “One of my many skills.” 

Nanami orders another flight just as the food arrives to the table. Gojo ordered a plethora of sushi and appetizers that looks delicious. Making sure to get some substance in his belly before he continues to consume more alcohol, Nanami fills his plate with nigiri, gyozas, and karaage. He glances over at his sweetie, who begins to wobble slightly in her seat.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asks her quietly as Ieiri and Gojo talk amongst themselves.  

“Of course!” She stuffs a piece of nigiri in her mouth, smiling. “Why?”

“You’re swaying a bit.” He brushes his fingers against her cheek, which is hot to the touch.

“Oh, I get like this sometimes when I drink. Doesn’t happen much with wine, but I guess it does with sake.” She shrugs, returning to her plate of food, unfazed. 

Gojo stares at them, smirking, “Nanamin, it’s cute how concerned you are for your girlfriend. Reminds me of that one time.” 

Nanami groans, throwing back another shot. “Oh great, here we go.”

“What time?” his girlfriend asks, her curiosity and delight so obvious. 

“Do you know that the reason I don’t consume alcohol is because of this guy right here.” He points to Nanami, for emphasis. “Back in our early 20s, Nanami wanted to test out how much liquor he could handle, so he made me take shots with him until he got good and drunk. Mind you, this was the first time I’ve ever had alcohol. Unfortunately, my tolerance is very low, so after consuming as many shots as him, which was ten at this point, I was pretty much shit faced. I couldn’t even stand up straight! I think I was talking in tongues or something and little Nanamin here got so worried, he was calling everyone about what to do. Poor guy was in tears, thinking he killed me.”

“I almost did. I still feel guilty about it to this day,” Nanami interjects.

“He made me swear off alcohol after that. Lectured me about how bad it is for me, especially. I think seeing me puke my guts out traumatized him. But it turns out, he was right. I think it fucks up some of my techniques, so I just steer clear of it completely. Plus, I think it tastes icky.” Gojo laughs with a wave of his hand.

Nanami’s girlfriend has a big grin on her face. “I like that story! Got any embarrassing ones?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty. Has he ever told you about the time I convinced him to go through a haunted house with me? Shoko was there too, she can attest to all of this!”

Nanami rolls his eyes, smiling. He continues to sip on his last glass of sake as they lean in close together to share stories and laughter. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he feels a pleasant warmth in his chest. Seeing the people in his life gathered like this is something he’s secretly dreamed about for a while now, and it’s actually happening. Before he gets too sentimental, he finishes the rest of his liquor and reaches over to stuff his mouth with another piece of sushi. 

Ieiri ends up ordering a third flight, but only gets through two glasses. She gives the remaining sake to Nanami, who is now tipsy. Maybe even close to being drunk. All he knows for sure is that he feels giddy. He rests his head onto his girlfriend’s shoulder, sighing. She giggles as she caresses his knee. “You good, Kento?”

Gojo, who is checking out for them, smirks. “I think he’s a little tipsy.”

“You’re losing your touch, Nanami. I still don’t feel a thing,” Ieiri claims. 

“Hey, it’s not his fault that your stomach is an unending abyss for liquor,” Gojo teases. 

Nanami mutters, “Let’s call it a night. I’m ready to sleep.”

“Oi oi oi, don’t even think about going home yet. The night is still young and there’s a karaoke bar down the street that’s calling for us.”

“We’ve also got an entire bottle of Japanese whiskey to consume,” Ieiri adds, holding up the gift bag. “Can’t let this bad boy go to waste.”

Nanami responds, “You can’t possibly be implying that we finish that whole bottle tonight, right? Shoko, that’s impossible. No way.”

Ieiri and Gojo grin simultaneously, staring at Nanami. “Someone is drunk,” Ieiri snickers.

Gojo faces Nanami’s girlfriend, who has been laughing the past few minutes, explaining, “Whenever Kento is drunk, he starts calling us by our first names. It’s actually quite sweet.”

“Shut up, Satoru. Leave me alone,” he blurts out.

Shoko and Satoru cackle as they get up from the table. 

“So, karaoke then?”

~~~

It takes less than five minutes to walk to the karaoke bar. You hear the bass bumping from the outside as Nanami holds your hand, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up his forearms. As Gojo pays for a private room, Nanami leans in, whispering, “I love you, baby.” His mouth is warm against your ear, the sweet scent of alcohol lingering on his breath.

You giggle. “I love you too, Kento.”

“No, seriously. I love you. You’re literally an angel. My sweet angel.” He is just too cute right now. You laugh louder. “Kento, you’re drunk.”

“Maybe I’m a bit tipsy, but I promise I mean everything I’m saying. I love you so fucking much.” This man is going to be the death of you. You’re quite buzzed yourself, but you start feeling drunk off his affectionate words. You give him a quick peck on the cheek before Gojo leads you all into a private room. It’s dark inside, with only blue and purple mood lighting on the ceiling. Gojo stands by the karaoke machine, trying to get everything set up while the rest of you sit on the couch. Nanami slumps beside you and leans his head back. A waiter comes in with several glasses and a whole pitcher of water. Ieiri pours it into a glass and hands it to you, smiling. “We should stay hydrated if we’re going to be singing.”

You return her smile and give your thanks, taking a sip before passing it to Nanami. He shakes his head and declines. “No. No water. Need alcohol.”

Ieiri chuckles as you push the glass of water in front of his lips. “Just drink some water first.”

He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “No.”

“Don’t bother, Nanami is still stubborn even when he’s drunk,” Gojo comments.

You lean close to him, begging, “Please, baby? For me?” You slide your hand on his thigh.

With his arms still crossed, he opens his mouth as you tip the glass to his lips. You watch him take a couple of gulps before setting the drink on the table, satisfied with your tactic. Gojo chortles as he takes a seat beside Ieiri. “I stand corrected. Now, which song should we sing first?”

Nanami stands up, reaching for one of the microphones on the table. “Satoru. You know what song I want.”

“On it.” Gojo flips through the music catalog until he finds what he’s looking for, then enters a series of numbers on the remote. 

Ieiri relaxes into the couch, the same pleasant smile on her face. “Hope you’re ready for this.”

Interested and slightly nervous, you sit back with her to enjoy whatever show your boyfriend is about to perform for you. A familiar tune begins to play, and after a couple of beats, you recognize it as the song Rock Your Body thumping through the speakers. Nanami sways his hips side-to-side in tandem with the rhythm as he sings, “Don’t be so quick to walk away, dance with me! I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!”

Gojo leans forward to look at you, yelling, “He always picks this as his first song! Always!” He also begins moving his body to the music while Ieiri nods her head to it. 

This might be one of the best things you’ve ever seen. Kento Nanami, your boyfriend, dancing and singing to a pop hit from the y2k era. No video could ever do this justice, so you just simple watch and enjoy with your own eyes. On the second chorus, he turns to you, a goofy expression on his face, tickling you under your chin, serenading, “I wanna rock your body, please stay, dance with me!” Gojo and Ieiri let out a loud whoop as you giggle, grabbing his hips while he continues to swing them in front of you. Gojo lets out a whistle as Ieiri cracks up. 

When the song ends, you all applaud as he takes a bow. Out of breath, he puts the mic down on the table and chugs the rest of the water in the glass before collapsing back into his seat. With the biggest grin, you exclaim, “That was so good, Kento! I’m so impressed!”

He gives you that same goofy grin as he slurs, “Was pretty good, huh? Should we take more shots?”

Before you even notice, Ieiri has lined up three glasses on the table and is pouring the Japanese whiskey. She delivers a shot to Nanami, who throws it back immediately. You and her cheers before drinking it. “Let’s do the next one,” she says, placing her hand on your back. “I know what song to do.”

You both belt out another pop hit from the 90s, singing and dancing while on the couch. Gojo chants along without a mic as Nanami bops to the music. Next, Gojo gives a dazzling performance of a classic 80s rock ballad, complete with all the theatrics, including an air guitar solo. After that, him and Nanami do a duet to an R&B song, which involves more hip swaying from Nanami directed at you. Gojo attempts a body roll towards Ieiri, who politely and firmly refuses before taking another shot. 

The room is buzzing with chaotic energy from sober Gojo and the rest of you drunkards. Ieiri’s composure begins to waver as she stands up to belt out Girls Just Wanna Have Fun with Gojo, who twirls her around the room until she promptly tells him to stop. “I’m going to yak if you keep spinning me, Satoru!”

They perform another song together, with Gojo hogging the mic as Ieiri tries to grab it from him, shrieking the lyrics loudly. “Shoko, there are other mics on the table! Stop trying to take mine!” he yells. She giggles, finally taking another mic to continue singing.

You and Nanami cuddle in the corner, unable to keep yourselves off each other, especially after seeing him sway his hips so many times tonight. As the other two sing, you and your boyfriend share sloppy kisses while hands roam over each other’s bodies. As you begin to unbutton his dress shirt from the top, you start kissing his neck, to which he lets out a loud moan. 

Finally being noticed by Gojo, he yells into the mic, “Hey, stop it you too! Gross!”

Ieiri lets out a shriek, also shouting into the mic, “Stop groping each other and sing another song with me!” she demands, beckoning you. 

Stumbling a bit, you get up to stand next to her, but Nanami’s grip is on your wrist, holding you in place. “No, don’t leave. Let’s kiss s’more.”

“Kento, I want to sing another song with my new best friend!” Ieiri whines. Gojo chimes in, “Me too! I want to duet with my new bestie!”

Your boyfriend grunts, eventually loosening his hold. With a big smile on your face, you walk towards your new friends and search through the catalog together, deciding on I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Nanami lets out a loud huff right before the music starts. They giggle behind their hands. “He’s so jealous. He wants to keep you all to himself.” 

The three of you prance around the room, singing, “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heatwith somebody!” 

Nanami scowls in the corner with his foot tapping to the beat. You break out of whatever line dance you’re doing to approach him, bopping your head, trying to coax a smile out of him. His expression is glum, but you see his lips twitch slightly. You take his arm, trying to convince him to join you, which he refuses at first. Not being able to resist much longer, he starts swaying with you as you lead him to the dance party a few feet away. Gojo and Ieiri rejoice as all four of you start shouting the last lines of the song. With everyone panting like they just ran a marathon, you all mutually decide to do one final round to end the night. Gojo, who seems perky as ever, chooses another pop hit. 

“Shoko, record me.” She retrieves her phone as Gojo points to the camera. “Utahime, this is for you, babe!” As he continues to serenade the camera, not even needing to look at the lyrics on screen, you hear Ieiri chuckle under her breath. “She’s going to hate this.”

You and Nanami sit together, fingers interlocked. He nuzzles his face into your neck as he asks, “What song should we sing, honey?” He hasn’t had any more shots since the first one, so his speech isn’t as slurred.

“I don’t know, what did you have in mind?”

“I like that one song. The one you’re always singing to in the shower,” he hums. 

“Ha, so you noticed how obsessed I am with that song right now?”

“It’s cute. I like hearing you sing it.” He rubs his nose into your neck.

Butterflies flutter in your belly. Even after dating for a few months now, you still get flustered by Nanami’s sweet words. “Okay, let’s do it.”

When they finish, you already have the code for the song entered. A smooth ballad starts playing as you and Nanami stand up, ready to duet together. Ieiri squeals, “I love this song!”

Nanami performs the first part with enthusiasm, causing Gojo to heckle, “This is too slow and serious!”

“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami scolds before he continues.

You explain, “He wanted to this one because he likes hearing me sing it in the shower!”

Gojo smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Got it. I’ll say no more.” Then, he whispers something in Ieiri’s ear. Whatever he mentions makes the other woman smile, glancing at you with a knowing look. 

After Nanami finishes the chorus, it’s your turn. From the corner of your eye, you see Nanami gaze at you lovingly as you sing, moving along to the music. You turn towards him beaming as you sing the chorus together, in sync. When it’s done, you receive a standing ovation from the audience. Nanami pulls you in by the waist and kisses you on the lips, resulting in even louder applause.

“Okay lovebirds, you can go home now. I’ve kept you hostage long enough,” Gojo laughs. He points his thumb over to Ieiri. “This one probably wants to go out to another bar and drink more.”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s my birthday and you’re treating. I’m taking full advantage of this.”

As you all exit the karaoke bar, Gojo approaches Nanami, patting him on the back. As the two men converse, you ask Ieiri in a hushed voice, “What did Gojo whisper to you earlier when we were singing?”

She smiles softly, replying, “Oh, that. He said that Nanami is whipped.” 

“Hey, Nanami is the one who suggested that song, not me!”

Before you can protest any further, she says, “He also said that he’s happy for him.”

That catches you off guard. You pause, not knowing how to react. She laughs. “Kento is rather smitten by you, and I can see why. You two are great together.”

Flustered once again, you respond quietly, “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming out for my birthday. It’s always fun making a new friend.” She glances at Gojo and adds, “Expect a lot more invitations from this guy.”

You give her a big smile. “I can’t wait.”

~~~

Gojo wraps an arm around Nanami’s shoulders as they walk behind the other two, making their way out of the karaoke bar. “Thanks for coming out tonight, buddy. This was so much fun.”

“Thanks for the invite. It was a lot of fun,” Nanami admits, sober now.

“I really like her. Your girlfriend. She’s really nice and fun. Total opposite of you,” Gojo jokes. Nanami tries to shrug his friend’s arm off his shoulders to no avail. 

He continues. “In all seriousness, I’m really happy for you. You seem to be in a much better mood these days. I told you all you needed was to get laid!”

This time, Nanami successfully shoves him off as his friend laughs. Before he walks faster to be next to his girlfriend, Gojo utters, “You really deserve this, Kento. You deserve to be happy.”

He pauses to face him, looking at him with a small smile. His mind goes back to the conversation they had a week before he met the woman of his dreams. Nanami had voiced his concerns to Gojo about dating as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He made up all these rules in his head, forbidding himself to date in order to protect his heart. Of all the people, it was Gojo who was the voice of reason. It was his best friend who convinced him to go for it. And it ended up being the best decision of his life. 

Nanami reaches his hand towards Gojo’s shoulder and gives it a firm clasp. His friend’s eyes widen, even hidden behind the stylish sunglasses. “Thank you, Satoru.” He doesn’t elaborate further. He knows that Gojo understands. 

Gojo’s lip quivers, either from amusement or sentimentality. Either way, he returns to his signature smirk almost instantly. “Let’s hang out again soon, okay?”

They say their goodbyes, Gojo and Ieiri turning to walk to another bar as Nanami and his girl head to the train station. On the ride back, she rests her head against him with her eyes closed. They stay like this in silence, listening only to the sound of the train gliding through the tracks. He entwines his fingers with hers, giving her a little squeeze. As much fun as the night was, these are the little moments that bring him to a state of pure bliss. He’s happy. Truly, utterly, irrevocably happy.

And he deserves it.

Taglist: @moonmalice @bloombb @strawberry1042

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 17: The Country Visit

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: G Word count: 9.5k

Masterpost Previous chapter

Author's note: Thank you for your incredible patience, dear readers. I am still alive. Life has been life-ing me pretty hard but I think about finishing this fic every damn day. This chapter and the next one are the two big exposition bois that I hadn't written, hence the long wait for them but after that, several chapters are fully completed. I hope you enjoy the family shenanigans in this one. Also, I fully recognize that every time I mention Kate I simp for her ethereal beauty, for which I shall not apologize because she is a goddess and should be described as such. 😜 Enjoy! 💙

The endless procession of carriages marking the arrival of the Bridgerton family at Aubrey Hall brought with it an array of feelings for Benedict. An anxiety and sadness that his family would serve as a wedge between him and Sophie, and an undeniable eagerness to embrace them all, having been apart for so long. A familiar warmth flooded his heart as their voices began echoing in the entry hall and he dashed to meet them.

Anthony was the first to reach him, smirking. “Ah! Our invalid.” He hugged his brother tightly, leaving a possessive hand cupped behind his ear as he looked him over. “Are you alright?” The concern in his eyes betrayed how deeply the steely-faced Viscount truly cared.

“Never better,” Benedict grinned.

“Good,” Anthony clapped him on the shoulder and began to drift toward his study. “I’m pleased to see you haven’t burned the place down. I’m off to meet with Dewitt.”

His sister-in-law Kate glided along behind her husband, resplendent even in traveling clothes. Flashing Benedict a warm smile, she squeezed his arm as she passed. 

Daphne and Simon had joined the throng and Benedict paused a moment to observe everyone. There was comfort in the chaos of the reunion. Seeing them felt like snapping back into reality, as if he had been living in a fantasy world tucked away with Sophie and her faerie-like enchantment over him. He wondered if anyone would be able to detect something amiss. Though he had managed to be discreet about all manner of outrageous activity in the past, he had never attempted to hide something so close to home. 

“Benedict, dear.” His mother extricated herself and approached him with open arms.

“Mother,” He folded into her embrace.

“I have missed you.” She rested a hand on his cheek. “You are feeling quite well again?”

“Perfectly,” he smiled. “I’m the picture of health.”

She pulled back and appraised him, her eyes brightening. “I should say so. You wrote that you had hired a nurse to help you? We owe her our thanks, no doubt.” 

Benedict felt the color rise in his cheeks. “Yes, well, not a nurse exactly. She is a very skilled maid and…”

“Well how serendipitous!” His mother exclaimed. “I must ask you, do you know if she has experience as a lady’s maid?” His stomach clenched, already apprehensive of where this may lead. “I don’t know. Possibly?”

“Oh, I do hope she does.” Taking him by the elbow, Violet moved to a corner of the hall and dropped her voice to the exasperated tone Benedict knew was reserved for bemoaning his siblings’ misdeeds. “Just before we left, Eloise’s lady’s maid took ill and stayed behind. Though in truth I wonder if she did not bow out so as to avoid your sister’s moods.”

Benedict couldn’t help but snicker, unabashedly proud of his sister’s obstinance. 

“What is her name again?” Violet asked.

“Sophie,” Benedict tried to keep his voice from wavering. “Sophie Beckett.”

His mother’s face lit with a smile. “Excellent. I shall call for her during tea.”

“Oh…um…perhaps…” A dozen half baked protests swirled in his mind and he stuttered as he tried to land on one. 

Her plan already happily cemented, his mother began to shoo him down the hall. “You should go and help Anthony, dearest. Oh, and make sure Colin stays away from the kitchen as best you can. We’ll need to have some biscuits saved for our guests. Plenty to do, dear. Off you go.”

Anxiety spiking through his every nerve, Benedict stumbled away blindly. He fought to find composure, reminding himself that if he and Sophie were to remain undiscovered, he must not get flustered over the details of her employment. He must act as if she were any other maid, though of course she was anything but.

___

The Bridgertons had only just arrived and Sophie was already second-guessing her decision to remain at Aubrey Hall. She had been so wholly focused on Benedict that she had failed to consider what risks there were in being seen by his family. When all of the servants had formed their customary lineup at the front doors to welcome them home, she had tucked herself behind Lizzie and admired each well appointed carriage and each handsome brunette Bridgerton that stepped out of it. Then he appeared and her blood ran cold.

Colin Bridgerton. The only other person with whom she had interacted at the masquerade ball. Living on gauzy dreams of Benedict for years, she had forgotten about it entirely. What if he had a keener eye than his brother? What if he remembered her voice? Would he be able to recognize her from that brief, masked encounter in a shadowed garden so long ago? Reason told her it was highly unlikely but she resolved to avoid him nonetheless. She turned her face as he jogged up the steps and he took no notice of her. Once everyone had gathered inside Sophie was introduced to the housekeeper Mrs. Wilson, an older woman of stern stature but kind eyes. Accepting Mr. Dewitt’s explanation of her employment, Mrs. Wilson’s first task for Sophie was to iron more linens for the guest bedrooms. 

Hard at work in the belly of the house, Sophie’s mind raced. While in proximity to the Bridgertons she was at twofold risk of discovery. Discovery not only of her scandalous relationship with Benedict, but of her trespassing into their London home years ago. How would Benedict react if either came to light? Surely it would be the end of their trysts, the end of her employment, perhaps the end of her freedom if they chose to prosecute her. Perhaps she should remain in the servant’s level for the entirety of the country visit which effectively ended their dalliance anyway. She began to wonder if she had already shared her last encounter with Benedict. Had already felt his caress for the final time, had already tasted their last kiss…

“Staying on then, are you?”

Anne suddenly appeared in the doorway and startled Sophie out of her thoughts. Even after weeks of working alongside one another while Sophie extended every kindness, the fellow maid had never warmed to her. She wore a perpetual grimace and seemed immune to any kind of cheer.

“Yes,” Sophie swallowed and turned back to her ironing. “The family has permitted me to stay and assist with the visit.”

Anne smirked. “You mean Mr. Benedict has permitted you to stay.”

Sophie ignored the flutter in her stomach and answered matter-of-factly. “Yes, it was his decision initially.”

Blocking the exit, Anne crossed her arms, leering. “He seems quite taken with you. I’ve never seen any member of the family so invested in a maid before. Kindnesses exceeding what is customary.”

Sophie knew the steam from the iron was not the reason she felt flushed. But she had a lifetime of experience dealing with manipulation. She wouldn’t be shaken so easily. The trick was to answer with ruthless exactitude; never lying, but never giving her tormentor what she knew they wanted. “Well, my hiring was anything but customary. He was in need and I was available to assist. I believe he is only trying to express gratitude.”

“Gratitude, yes.” Anne arched a brow. “You spend a lot of time upstairs…accepting his gratitude.”

Stiffening, Sophie forced a breezy tone. “I am on hand if he should require anything. He often requests that I read to him.”

“I know how to read and in all these years he’s never once asked me.” Anne’s pout and petulant tone assured Sophie that she was none the wiser to the actual truth. She may have been ready to brandish threats but had no proof. This line of accusation was fueled purely by jealousy which she had been riddled with from the day they met.

Sophie pursed her lips. “Well, it does require a degree of wit and character to truly make the passages come to life.”

Before Anne could respond, Mrs. Wilson appeared at her side.

“Miss Beckett, if you would follow me.”

With a nod of assent Sophie brushed passed Anne, flashing her a warning look that dared another challenge.

Sophie’s nerves rose steadily as she walked silently behind Mrs. Wilson, the both of them winding their way through staircases and halls until they reached the closed doors of the drawing room. Sophie swallowed hard, wondering what awaited her inside. An array of accusatory scowls and a note of dismissal? A fuming Viscount shaking a piece of her waylaid clothing at a shame-faced Benedict? The sins they had committed in that room…

But when Mrs. Wilson pushed open the door she was met with the lovely tableau of ladies at tea. The Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton sat in all their finery on opposite sofas, sipping lightly from china cups. Miss Francesca played a flowery tune on the piano in a far corner. The youngest Bridgerton, Miss Hyacinth, was practicing her penmanship with a governess at a table. The room was sunlit and nothing but welcoming.

Mrs. Wilson ushered Sophie to stand before the sofas and she curtsied deeply.

The elder Lady Bridgerton rested her saucer and looked up.

“Ah, you must be Miss Bennett.”

“Beckett, ma’am.” Sophie dropped her eyes respectfully. “Sophie Beckett.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry.” Lady Bridgerton chuckled and Sophie could not help but notice how the blue shade of her eyes matched Benedict’s exactly. “Miss Beckett. I must thank you for caring for my son during his illness. How fortunate that you were at hand in his time of need. Our family is indebted to you.”

Once again, Sophie was struck by the kindness that seemed inherent to the Bridgertons. She had never been treated so well by any employer. “No, I am indebted to him, ma’am. Your son…saved me from a most unpleasant fate, then gave me employment here while I am between positions. He has been more than generous and I have very much enjoyed the hospitality of your home.” 

There was a world of story hidden behind her words, but she was confident it would remain there. Discretion was one of the many skills she had learned through the hardships of her life.

Then the Viscountess addressed her. “It sounds as if your debts have been mutually paid then.” She was so impossibly beautiful, Sophie found it difficult to hold her gaze despite her warm smile. “Miss Beckett, have you secured a new position yet?”

“Not yet, my lady.”

“Would it be your wish to remain in our employment?”

Benedict’s mother jumped in to explain. “My second daughter Eloise is without a lady’s maid at the moment. I’m afraid we are short-staffed to prepare her for the ball we are hosting. Have you any experience upstairs?”

Sophie’s thoughts began to race. She had intended to remain for the country visit, but as a housemaid relegated to the servant’s level. To work upstairs would complicate her plans to stay out of sight. And yet when she tried to dredge up the white lies she used to deceive the Cowpers, she found that she could not. The gentleness in both women’s eyes compelled her to tell the truth. “Yes, ma’am. It has been some years but I have dressed young ladies for the season.”

Lady Bridgerton beamed. “Excellent. I thought you might. You speak very well. You seem to be precisely what our family needs at every turn, don’t you? A blessing indeed.”

“If you should like to remain as a lady’s maid for Miss Eloise, we will increase your wages and keep you on during our visit,” said the Viscountess.

Lady Bridgerton nodded. “Yes, and we will provide a letter of the highest recommendation for your next position.”

Sophie paused a moment, considering their offer. Clearly Benedict had not told them of his own offer to refer her and pay her handsomely once she found a new position. An offer of employment had never materialized from the Stirling household in Scotland, something she had been quietly celebrating since mending things with Benedict. A recommendation from a Viscountess would carry more weight than that of a second son, and raised wages from a higher position could set her up nicely for the future when and if she ever needed to leave the family’s employ. Weighing the benefits against the risks, she reasoned that Colin Bridgerton and any other member of the ton were unlikely to recognize her for the same reason Benedict could not. Their own bias against her lowly position. If anyone questioned her, she had only to point at her servant’s uniform to undermine their suspicions. Who would truly believe the trajectory of her life? From faux debutante at a Bridgerton ball long ago, to a servant in the very same household. It beggared belief, sometimes even from herself.

Working upstairs also afforded her more opportunity to see Benedict, if not speak with him directly. She knew they were enforcing distance but her heart already ached to at least see him from afar. To see how he interacted with his family and how he navigated society. At Eloise’s side she could safely observe him without seeming out of place. She was resolved.

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton.” She curtsied to the Viscountess and then her mother-in-law. “Lady Bridgerton…both of you. I should very much like to stay.”

Next she knew, she had been outfitted with a smarter uniform and marched back upstairs to the family wing by Mrs. Wilson.

The housekeeper bustled along in front of her, all business. “Mrs. Wiggin tells me that you have been of great help around the house. There will be no more cleaning and tea service duties for you now that you are to attend Miss Eloise. You will be responsible for waking her, dressing her, chaperoning her on outings and tending to her needs.” 

“Yes, I understand.”

They moved past Benedict’s bedroom and rounded down another hall before stopping in front of a door. Mrs. Wilson turned to her with a serious look.

“I should warn you. Miss Eloise is…spirited. She has had four lady’s maids since her debut, if you take my meaning.” She raised her eyebrows pointedly. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are only standing in for the visit.”

Sophie felt a pang of apprehension. Benedict had not spoken much about his siblings during their time together, and certainly not in any way that would indicate they were anything but kind and playful. She had noted Eloise’s curious absence from teatime and had also begun to recall hearing her name in the Cowper household years ago. Cressida held a very poor opinion of her but then, that did not make Eloise more notable than any other young lady of the ton. There was certainly no way Eloise could be worse than Cressida.

After a quick rap on the door, Mrs. Wilson pushed it open and they stepped inside. Seated at a large and cluttered writing desk in the middle of her well-appointed bedroom, Eloise startled at their appearance and quickly shuffled papers over whatever it was that held her focus. She stood, trying to obscure the desk behind herself. Instantly Sophie understood why Eloise may be regarded as ‘difficult’. Prim and proper young debutante she was not. She had the stance and smirk of one who did not much care for etiquette and tradition. Her hair was unfashionably short and fringed and the jacket she wore over her pale sage dress had a rather masculine crop. The room was untidy and filled with the kind of ornaments one would expect in a man’s study -  piles of books, ink stains on parchment, busts of authors, and a large telescope facing a window. 

Mrs. Wilson regarded her with exasperation. “Miss Eloise, this is Sophie Beckett. She will be serving as your lady’s maid while we are in the country.”

Sophie curtsied and smiled.

“Excellent. Pleasure to meet you.” The sarcasm was thick in her voice. She forced a grin as Mrs. Wilson bowed out of the room. Her affectation continued as she rolled her eyes. “I am so delighted that a stand-in was found to assist me with the crucial undertaking of buttoning my frocks.”

Sophie quirked her lips, entertained rather than daunted by Benedict’s rebellious sister. “I am certain you would be capable of managing such a task yourself, Miss. But is there not some pleasure to be found in conversation with a confidante throughout your day?”

The young woman cocked her head, assessing Sophie carefully. “Confidante? I’ve never had a lady’s maid describe herself as such before.”

“What are we for but safeguarding the secrets of our ladies?” From the smell of tobacco in the air, she deduced what Eloise had been doing at her desk. She jutted her chin knowingly at the mess of papers. 

A wry smile began to spread across Eloise’s face as she sat and uncovered the tobacco pouch and collection of rolling papers. Sophie felt a surge of victory at already winning a degree of trust.

Eloise toyed with the half-rolled cigarette she had been making. “I know ladies should not smoke, but if I will not be allowed more privacy while we are in the country, at least you could spare me a little indulgence.”

Sophie moved to her side and delicately plucked the cigarette from her grasp. “I believe you should roll them more tightly. Like this.” Carefully, she worked at the paper until it was shaped securely.

Eloise’s eyes boggled. “Do you enjoy them yourself?”

Sophie shook her head. “Not me, no. But I have worked with many people who do.” She handed the token back.

“Thank you.” Eloise could not seem to look away from her remarkable new lady’s maid who not only failed to chastise her for unladylike behavior, but even assisted her with it. She tucked the cigarette safely into a case on her desk. Her posture eased and she leaned back to get a better look at this rare woman. “Where do you come from?”

“North of London originally, but I have lived many places and worked in many houses.” 

Eloise’s eyes lit with recognition. “Are you the one my brother hired recently?”

Sophie tried not to blush at the mere mention of Benedict. “Yes. Mr. Bridgerton assisted me in a difficult situation then fell ill. I was able to return the favor by ensuring he recovered here.” Considering what a rulebreaker Eloise appeared to be, Sophie wondered what such a woman would think of her brother’s salacious dalliance with a maid. She would never reveal it of course, but she got the impression that Eloise may not be scandalized by the concept.

“And now I am your problem in place of him.” Eloise smirked.

Sophie chuckled. “I would not use that word, Miss. I have enjoyed his company and look forward to getting to know you and your family better.”

To demonstrate her readiness she began tidying, brushing loose tobacco dust from the desk and dropping it into the fireplace. She moved to the vanity and began straightening the hairbrushes and tincture bottles which were woefully disarrayed.

“Well I doubt there will be much time for chatter with the guests inbound in two days. This Hearts and Flowers ball always brings chaos to the house.” Eloise groaned from her seat.

Sophie already anticipated her answer but asked. “It sounds as if you are not looking forward to it?”

Eloise shrugged. “There are some acquaintances I am eager to see, but plenty that I would rather avoid. I’m not even sure I know who is on the guest list this year.” 

“Could you ask the Viscountess?”

“I fear she would misinterpret my intentions and believe I was searching for an eligible suitor, which is a conversation I’d like to avoid entirely, thank you very much.” 

Sophie had to keep from laughing at how utterly dejected Eloise looked, arms crossed and posture slumped. Then she had an idea, a way of both solving the conundrum and earning more trust.

“Copies of the list are provided to the staff so that we might prepare rooms and meals. Would you like me to secure one for you?”

Eloise brightened, once again agog at her new companion. “That would be helpful, thank you Sophie.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss.”

The smile they shared was filled with affinity. Here was another woman who kept secrets, who broke rules. A woman not unlike herself, Sophie thought, yet also similar to Benedict in her ease and good humor. Working for Eloise was a world away from working for Cressida. Sophie could not imagine two young ladies at further ends of the spectrum regarding propriety and appearances. Like her brother, Eloise’s disposition was rare within society and Sophie began to wonder if every last Bridgerton was so uniquely charming.

Sophie spent the evening acquainting herself with Eloise’s wardrobe and toilette, straightening her room as she went. She had half a mind to call Anne upstairs for the task so that she might acknowledge Sophie’s promotion, but it seemed too spiteful. She still aimed to keep a low profile among the staff and family both. She was able to procure a copy of the ball guest list from Mrs. Wiggin and on her way to deliver it to Eloise, she made sure to scan the names herself.

The Cavenders had not been invited, which she suspected Benedict had a hand in. The Cowpers were also noted as sending their regrets. Just seeing their name in print made Sophie break into a cold sweat, but she remembered that they often visited Penwood at this time of year which likely explained their absence. Fortune seemed to be on her side for avoiding any risky encounters, and there was a spring in her step as she returned to Eloise’s room to prepare her for bed.

The next day was for the Bridgertons to enjoy the estate before guests arrived. Eloise proved difficult to rouse but quick to dress in the morning. Caring very little for ostentation, she was satisfied by the simple frock and hairband which Sophie supplied. After breakfast Eloise requested her company for a walk through the grounds. Sophie took the gesture as one of generosity and trust. As they walked through the gardens where she and Benedict had shared so many passionate moments, she fought to concentrate on what was being said. Eloise was an effortless companion in that she never left a lull in the conversation. Indeed, Sophie spoke very little except to express her general support of Eloise’s many plans for reforming society and her own path in life. She longed for an education, for adventure, for advocacy. She fretted for the plight of women, though Sophie suspected she had little understanding of the tribulations faced by the working class. Nonetheless, she was impressed with the young woman’s drive and eager to have further conversations on all Eloise had read and experienced. The spirited nature she had been warned of was proving to be nothing but charming.

The highlight of the day was the family’s annual pall mall game, which Eloise explained the rules of as Sophie accompanied her to the back lawn. They arrived at the site of the game before anyone else and Eloise unabashedly outlined her devious plans. Grabbing the fifth wicket from a stack, she hitched her dress and began marching across the grass to place it in the most inconvenient location possible, somewhere between a dense thicket of bushes and the infamous ball-pit of the lake. She assigned Sophie to stand guard several paces away and then disappeared into the brambles, wicket in hand.

Sophie kept her back to Aubrey Hall, snickering to herself as she enjoyed the cool breeze. She remembered Benedict’s retelling of last year’s game and now had a clearer picture of Eloise’s ruthless, even deceptive competitiveness. She also wondered when the last time was that she assisted in any task purely for the sake of fun. It was a light, sunny feeling. Which all came crashing down when a man’s voice rang out behind her.

“You there!”

She spun and saw Colin Bridgerton striding toward her, eyes stern. Oh god, he had recognized her. She could already hear the anger in his voice, could already feel his grip on her arm as he dragged her to the Viscount to expose her. She had been a fool to think she could stay hidden. She felt as paralyzed as a deer in the sights of a stalker.

All she could do was blanch, voice wavering. “Sir?”

He stopped short in front of her, eyes scrutinizing her face. “You…”

This was it. The end of her silly dreams…

“You’re not the lady’s maid from London,” he said at last.

Sophie nearly swayed on her feet as the wave of nausea halted. He didn’t recognize her. She was nothing but another nameless maid to him, just one he hadn’t seen before. Her assumptions had been correct. He was as blinded by her class as his brother. 

“No, sir,” she affirmed, finding her voice again. “I am newly retained to see to your sister while you are in residence.”

“Ah.” A smirk crossed his face and she could see he held his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He scanned the lawn around them, quipping. “Can you see her now?”

Sophie felt certain that this was all a ploy in the great pall mall rivalry. Well, her allegiance was set. Pursing her lips, she answered. “She is placing the fifth wicket, sir.”

“And she asked you to stand guard.”

“Yes.” Sophie sensed the budding good humor of their conversation. “Do you suspect me of underhanded behavior?”

Colin grinned. “I am accusing my sister of it. I’m sure you are innocent and have been lured into her deceitful enterprise unknowingly.” Once again he searched the horizon. “If you could just tell me where she is…”

“A lady is entitled to her privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

Colin’s eyes snapped back to her, surprised at her direct tone. 

“Do you believe I am so dimwitted as to allow myself to become embroiled in a scheme against my will?”

He bowed his head in apology. “I meant no offense. Most maids are unused to dealing with Eloise’s…spirited manner.”

There was that phrase again. Now it was Sophie’s turn to smirk.

“I have dealt with far worse than Miss Eloise, I assure you.”

Colin assessed her again carefully. “Well, you are clearly strong of spirit and quick of wit. What about sweet of tooth?”

Finally revealing what was behind his back, he held out a pastry. Something covered in chocolate and delectable looking. “Have you ever had an eclair?”

In truth, she had not, but her loyalty was not so easily bought.

She arched a brow at him. “A bribe? Is pall mall victory really so viciously contended for?”

He chuckled. “You have no idea.”

Their stalemate was broken by the reappearance of Eloise.

“What are you doing here?” Shaking leaves from the hem of her dress, she scowled at her brother. “Looking for the wicket? Well, you’ll have to find it during the game, along with everyone else.”

Nose in the air, she swiped the eclair from his outstretched palm, shoved it whole into her mouth and marched onward to the house. “Come on!” She ordered, her words muffled.

Barely containing her laughter, Sophie followed her mistress, leaving Colin gaping by the waterside.

Everyone had gathered in the sprawling back garden and were buzzing with the anticipation of play. Lady Bridgerton and a contingent of nursemaids were bouncing the grandchildren in their laps on a covered dais while the Viscount, his siblings and their spouses gathered to select their mallets. Eloise dashed into the crowd and secured the orange while Anthony and his wife seemed to bicker over the imposing black mallet. Sophie skirted the scene and started back up the large stone steps into the building but paused to find Benedict among the gathered chestnut heads. He stood slightly off to one side, hip cocked and hands rested on his lavender mallet as his eyes trailed up to hers.

It was the first time they had seen each other in two days and their shared gaze was heavy with yearning. In that moment, the noise and bustle of the Bridgertons fell away and they felt like the only two people on earth. As tenuous as their arrangement was, Sophie couldn’t help but feel magnetized to him; the only constant in her ever-changing circumstances. 

Benedict stared at her as a man transfixed, his chest tightening in that indescribable way. She looked happy, light-hearted, and it made her glow from within. He wanted to capture that light, to infuse it into her portrait…

“Brother!” Anthony barked in his ear, startling him out of his reverie.

“Are you playing or lollygagging?” Eyes burning with signature intensity, the Viscount bade him follow and Benedict forced himself to plod across the grass and away from the captivating woman on the stairs. No one seemed any the wiser as to what had caught his attention, but he wondered how long he could try to ignore Sophie when a single glimpse of her caused such turmoil within.

Darting into Aubrey Hall, Sophie stationed herself by a window to watch the game unfold. Though she could not hear any of the exclamations from the field, it was evident how much joy and fierce competition it stirred. Taunts, encouragement, cheers, laughter. The grounds were alive with the fun of it all. Every sibling and spouse demonstrated their skillset, some adept at the technical approach and others more determined to settle grudges by disrupting their opponents’ efforts. They moved numerically from wicket to wicket, varying in pace, sometimes disappearing from view to find the far-flung goals. Sophie could only imagine where Eloise had hidden hers. Colin was disqualified early but seemed entirely content to join his mother for cakes and tea while wiggling his fingers at his nephew Edmund.

After nearly two hours, the finalists lined up at a hoop approximately five feet off the ground, which Sophie understood from Eloise was the last goalpost. To be deemed the victor, one had to shoot their ball through the hoop by any means other than their hands. The Viscount’s shot went wide. The Duchess’ did not achieve sufficient height. The Viscountess was prowling with anticipation for her shot but Benedict was before her in turn order. Sophie watched in delight as he took the unconventional tack of balancing his ball between his feet then jumping like a frog to launch it through the hoop. To everyone’s amazement - including his - it worked and he crowed with victory, running about and whooping in the faces of his siblings.

Sophie clapped from her spot at the window, laughing with glee. Of course she had been rooting for him and fate once again proved to be on their side. In the midst of her laughter she found that tears had begun rolling down her cheeks. Her joy was echoed by longing. Longing for siblings, longing for a family, longing for the kind of happy life enjoyed by the Bridgertons. But she wiped them away, recognizing that though she was still in the uniform of a maid, she was the happiest she had ever been. She still got to enjoy the beauty and comfort of Aubrey Hall even if she was not an esteemed guest from the ton. She still got to laugh at the shenanigans of the Bridgerton siblings even if she could not join in. And she still got to lay claim to Benedict as a lover, a man who pleasured and protected her, even in their odd arrangement. It was a happier life than she could ever have imagined while wretchedly scrubbing floors for the Cowpers. Tomorrow didn’t bear worrying about, because today she was happy.

___

At last the day of the Hearts and Flowers ball arrived. Carriages loaded with the top tier of society descended upon the house in waves. Aubrey Hall erupted with noise and movement as the guest rooms filled and the common areas became dotted with simpering debutantes, weary bachelors, drunken fathers and scheming mamas. The flower arrangements chosen by the Bridgerton women were dazzling. Garlands and swags of roses, lilacs and lilies. As she made her way to Eloise’s room, Sophie felt as if she were walking through both a verdant garden and a fine parfumerie.

As she picked out a shawl to match Eloise’s dress, trying to skillfully combat the young lady’s protestations against joining in lawn games, there came a knock at the door. When she opened it to find Benedict, her breath caught in her throat. He too seemed taken aback, stumbling over his words about lending his sister a book which he held out in explanation. Eloise sat at her vanity, thanked him and blithely waved him away. Turning to Sophie, Benedict pressed the small volume into her hands, his touch lingering too long on her bare fingers, eyes burning. Then as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.

Examining the book, Sophie saw a sheet of parchment jutting from the back cover. Clearing her throat, she slipped it quickly into an apron pocket and carried the gift to Eloise. As she finished dressing her for the day, it was all she could do to keep her fingers from trembling with anticipation.

The day passed in a blur, with the Bridgertons and guests mingling in every corner of the house and grounds. Sophie joined the cadre of ladies maids who bustled between the bedrooms, stitching loose threads, buffing shoes, polishing jewelry and trading rose water as they coordinated for the evening ball. Stealing the occasional glance out the windows, Sophie eyed Eloise chatting in an animated fashion with a young lady in yellow. She also heard through the servants’ chatter that the men had returned from a hunt with a stag and two does felled. She wondered if Benedict had made any of the killing shots. If only she could catch a glimpse of him in his hunting ensemble, with a long coat and top hat astride Danae. The mental image gave her an undeniably carnal thrill.

In what seemed no time at all, she and Eloise were stationed back at the vanity, dusk falling purple and soft outside as Sophie lit candles and proceeded to pin the young lady’s hair into a stylish coiffure. In a cluttered drawer she had found a bejeweled hairpiece in the shape of a geranium and nestled it gently within her upswept tresses. For her gown, Eloise had chosen one in a modest style, mint-toned and glimmering with silver accents. Sophie thought it suited her perfectly - beautiful but understated. Style with wit rather than ostentation.

As she dotted rouge onto her cheeks, she asked an amiable question to which she already suspected the answer.

“Are you excited for the ball, Miss?”

“Not particularly.” Eloise’s voice was tight.

“You’re not one for dancing?” Sophie wondered if Eloise was also cursed with two left feet like her brother.

The young lady rolled her eyes. “I’m not one for listening to stodgy men prattle on about how many carriages they own as if that will enamor me enough to marry them.”

Sophie grinned. Eloise’s frankness was unfailingly refreshing. But she knew better than most the discomfort of feeling out of place, and she disliked the thought of sending her off into an evening of drudgery. However, this was Eloise’s role; to attend balls and interview suitors, the same way her role was to primp her to do so, and they had to proceed no matter how much they both longed for something different. All she could offer was her own commiserating perspective. 

“If I may be honest, in my experience it is rare to find gentlemen among the ton who are both kind and interesting.” Then she caught herself. “Of course, I am counting your brothers as the exceptions.”

Eloise scoffed. “Well, I’m not certain about that. You don’t really know them.”

Sophie felt the blush rise up her neck and turned to hide it, busying herself with the face powders. But it was too late, Eloise had noticed.

“Though I suppose you’ve come to know Benedict.” She smiled wryly, now even more curious about her new lady’s maid. “I will say, it’s not a secret that he is my favorite brother.”

Sophie continued to fiddle with the contents of the vanity. “Oh? And why is that?”

“I suppose of anyone in my family I can be my true self around him without fear of judgment or reprimand. He is supportive. Since our father died it’s as if he has been the eldest brother to us all, while Anthony became our father more or less.”

At last Sophie turned and met her gaze, impressed by the first genuine show of emotion she had seen. She moved to affix Eloise’s earrings, smiling wistfully. “It is wonderful that they have been there for you.”

Eloise nodded. “Mmm. And we are quite similar. Benedict also disdains balls and playing the marriage mart.”

As she worked at the small fasteners, Sophie pondered for the first time how odd it was that Benedict remained unmarried. Considering he had been deemed the most eligible bachelor in London years ago when they first met, he must have gone to great pains to avoid the throng of ladies throwing themselves at his feet. But why?

“So the two of you do not wish to marry?”

“Well, I don’t think Benedict is opposed to marriage. But he’s a romantic.” Eloise explained. “The only thing that motivates him are his passions. So he is waiting for a love match, I’m sure. Which is even harder to find than a good dance partner.”

She snorted in laughter which Sophie half-heartedly imitated. It was no revelation to her that Benedict had a romantic soul. He was an artist after all. But the thought of him marrying for love rather than duty, of being blissfully happy with a woman of society who would carry his children and walk on his arm, it made her stomach turn. It was everything she wanted and precisely what she could not have. It was why she would eventually have to leave.

Eloise carried on, completely oblivious. “I certainly do not want to get married or bear children. Though I am struggling to determine what kind of life is available to a woman otherwise.”

With this comment compounding the sting, Sophie could not help but make a sour face and look away.

That was enough to draw Eloise’s attention. “I’m sorry Sophie, that was insensitive of me. Of course there are plenty of unmarried women who work, and working for a livelihood is…”

“It’s just that you are not of the class that is required or even allowed to do so.” After a steadying breath, Sophie turned back. Her woes were not of Eloise’s making. If anything, they made her see how they were similarly caged at either end of the social spectrum. Perhaps in the world the young woman envisioned, they would both have been able to break free.

“You have not offended me. I understand. I understand very well how the circumstances of our birth can restrict our path in life and I do not think that applies only to the lower classes.” Bending over her shoulder to meet her eyes in the looking glass, Sophie gave her a reassuring smile. “There are a great many injustices in our society, Miss Eloise. It seems like you may be of a mind to help resolve some of them.”

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Eloise’s voice was raspy but sincere. “Thank you, Sophie.”

With continued words of encouragement Sophie gave her a handkerchief, helped her to pull on her gloves and sent her down to the ballroom looking as polished as an emerald. She would wait eagerly to hear how the evening progressed, wondering if she would return as dejected as she set out. As she straightened the bedroom, the murmurs of the gathered guests grew louder downstairs, followed by the first strings of music. It was joyful, romantic, and she was instantly transported back to the night of the masquerade ball. The first and only time she had been able to experience such magic firsthand. A night where she held Benedict’s undivided attention, twirling in his arms despite not knowing how to dance. With a moment of privacy at last, she fished the parchment out of her pocket and unfolded it. It was a painting, a simple watercolor of delicate blue flowers with their name written neatly in a corner - Forget Me Not.

Clasping the paper to her chest, she fell back onto Eloise’s bed, beaming. Her mind flooded with images of Benedict and the hope that his love match would continue to elude him that night. He was only downstairs and yet he felt worlds away. But no matter the distance, she was incapable of forgetting him.

____

In the rose colored ballroom below, everything was progressing with the signature elegance of a Bridgerton event. Candles twinkled from every sconce and surface, reflecting the crystal of the champagne flutes and the embellishments of the ladies’ attire. Flowers trailed along every railing and entryway, lending a sweet fragrance to the air. Dancers twirled expertly in the center of the room while guests in all their finery moved between clusters of conversation and towers of brightly colored confections. The Viscountess, dowager Lady Bridgerton and Duchess of Hastings stood regally near the double staircase, surveying the scene with pride.

The Viscount found himself among a group of gentlemen listening to the details of a business proposition laid out by Lord Fife. It was unlike Fife to have anything worthwhile to say, but his latest venture sounded promising. Even Simon was showing interest, as he elbowed his way in and they sipped their brandies together.

“Where is my brother?” Anthony muttered, scanning the faces of the men gathered. “God knows what he’s been up to these days. He should hear this.”

Simon sighed. “You should know by now that you need to be more specific than that. Which brother?”

“Benedict.”

The Duke’s brows shot up. “Ah. I haven’t seen him tonight. Though I have some idea where he might be.”

Anthony knew to be wary of that smug tone. Tapping his eldest friend on the arm, they steered away from the crowd. “What do you mean?”

Simon kept his voice low, turning his back to the room. “It’s none of my business but…in his convalescence he seems to have taken up with one of your maids.”

“Oh god,” Anthony groaned, eyes rolling. “How do you know this?”

“We have seen it, Daphne and I. I’ve seen his eyes follow her out of a room and Daphne said she has seen…”

The Duke paused, trying to tread lightly. He knew how easy his friend was to anger.

“What has she seen?” Anthony pressed him, teeth clenched.

Simon took a deep breath. “She has seen them touching. More than would be appropriate. On more than one occasion.”

Anthony’s eyes went wide, his nostrils flared. “Unbelievable.”

Hoping to avoid a public outburst, Simon tried to calm him. “Come now, Bridgerton. He’s a man. Let him have his fun.”

Anthony’s jaw locked, telegraphing his aggravation. “True, we all have our fun wherever we find it. But it remains unbecoming of a gentleman to flaunt it in one’s own house.” His eyes darted to ensure no one could overhear them. He leaned closer, hissing. “I knew he was…eccentric, but I didn’t think his tastes would extend to the help.”

Simon rolled his eyes, knowing this was a far lesser scandal than many they had faced together. Such as the one where they found themselves on opposite ends of dueling pistols. “I didn’t mean to sour your mood, I only wanted to keep you informed.”

Hands on his hips, Anthony steamed for a moment before acknowledging that it was neither the time nor place to address the matter. In their new chapter as relations, Simon had developed a knack for dissipating the Viscount’s untimely frustrations.

Anthony clapped him on the shoulder. “And I’m grateful that you did. You are a true friend. Although, should I call you brother now?” He smirked.

The Duke pointed a wry but warning finger. “Don’t push your luck, Bridgerton.”

___ After three glasses of champagne, two hours of inane conversation, and one good-natured turn with his mother across the dance floor, Benedict had endured about all he could take of the ball. While he has happy for his family that everyone was enjoying themselves, his heart was not in the event. Indeed, it felt somewhere else entirely. As he mumbled pleasantries with the same tired acquaintances and ducked around corners to avoid the fawning advances of Miss Dolores Stowell, he began to wonder what exactly the point of his attendance at such events was anymore. His peers were all there to ostensibly find their spouses and their elders were there to supervise the chase. But he would not find his wife in that ballroom or any other. 

The lady in silver was long vanished and even the memory of her was starting to feel as insubstantial as gossamer. For how long could he keep searching in vain? For how long could he pin all hope on an imagined future with her? One full of the passion, happiness and companionship he longed for? Then Sophie flashed in his mind and he wondered if he was truly longing anymore. Thoughts swimming, he snuck unnoticed out of the ballroom and made his way to a secluded spot where he could think undisturbed. The portico roof over the front doors of Aubrey Hall rested just beneath an array of windows that one could easily climb through and drop out of sight as they sat with a panoramic view of the grounds. It had become a secret, almost sacred place for both heartfelt conversation and mischief which he had only shared with Colin and Eloise, the latter of whom he was surprised to see had beat him to the punch and was sat on a corner of the roof, smoking.

She looked up in alarm as he clambered out of the window and dropped beside her, but on recognition she smiled and wordlessly offered him her cigarette. He took a drag, settling beside her, the two of them staring out at the parade of carriages in the drive and the shadowed hills of the lawn beyond. The stars were bright and the air was peaceful, a stillness in sharp contrast to what Benedict felt within.

Eloise smirked at him. “No one catching your eye, brother?”

He handed back the cigarette and took note of her appearance. It was still odd for him to see his little sister grown and out in society. In his mind she would always be stubborn little El, smudged in dirt and tromping around with a slingshot in hand and one of Colin’s hand-me-down caps. But here in her gown and jewels with her hair pinned beautifully, she rivaled the elegance of every young lady within. 

“I should ask you the same. I’m surprised the men aren’t falling all over themselves to dance with you. You look very lovely tonight.”

She smiled, straightening a bit. “It’s all thanks to the new maid, Miss Beckett. I like her very much.”

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and the grin that broke across his face was entirely too large and entirely uncontrollable. Perhaps his sister wouldn’t see it in the low light, but his hopes were dashed.

“Benedict?” She studied him, cajoling. “You apparently like her too.”

He swallowed, speaking the truth aloud for the first time. “I do.”

He was surprised to find that he was not nervous about dropping his ruse. Not around Eloise. If there was anyone in the family he could be honest with, it was her. While they had always been close throughout their childhoods, it was when they confessed their shared disdain for the confines of society that the bedrock of their adult relationship had been formed. Whether on the swings in the garden of Bridgerton House or here on the portico roof of Aubrey Hall, they confided in one another about their desires and their struggles. Sometimes explicitly but more often simply through a silent, innate sense for when the other needed support and they never failed to provide it, in blanket sentiments or merely in physical presence. Benedict had escorted Eloise to many a ball she did not wish to attend and had pulled her briskly from the orbit of unsavory suitors. He had sat outside her bedroom door to stave off reprimands after Lady Whistledown had exposed her unsanctioned visits to political rallies and brought scandal down upon her head. After he had left the Royal Academy in shame, fresh sketchbooks, charcoals and paints continued to appear on the desk of his bedroom though he had not purchased them. And when he sulked in heartbreak and frustration for months after losing the lady in silver, Eloise would prod him for walks in the sunshine or games of chess, anything to keep his mind off of his pain without ever ridiculing his behavior, while the rest of his family were convinced he had gone mad. If anyone would champion his pursuit of happiness despite the risks it incurred, it would be Eloise.

True to her character, she did not blink at his confessing attraction to a servant, but she did keep his feet rooted on the ground. “Be careful there. I can only imagine what the family would say about a dalliance with a maid.”

She was right, of course. If his family were to find out and reproach him, it would be easy enough to terminate a frolic that was just for the fun of it all. And yet, as he quested through his feelings, the odd sensation in his chest affirmed that he could not walk away from Sophie so easily. He was approaching something. Something he knew the name of but could not yet admit, not even to himself. But he knew it would rise to the surface soon enough.

“I don’t know if it’s a dalliance, El.”

“What?”

He twisted his fingers as he sought for the words. “A part of me feels…I don’t know. Happier than I have felt in years.”

Eloise was quiet for a moment and then bluntly asked him the question he could not pose to himself. “You’re finally ready to give up on your lady in silver, then? For a servant?”

Her shimmering image rose in his mind, smiling coyly. He’d spent the last two years with one eye on every door, always waiting for her to enter the room. He felt silly sometimes, even stupid, but he’d never been able to erase her from his thoughts. Or purge the dream - the one in which he pledged his troth to her, and they lived happily ever after. It was a silly fantasy for a man of his reputation, sickly sweet and sentimental, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. That’s what came from growing up in a large and loving family - one tended to want the same for oneself. But the woman from the masquerade had become barely more than a mirage. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. 

“Maybe,” he exhaled, feeling a barrier begin to crumble. “She is at least here. I can see her and talk to her and I know who she is. But I also know what a scandal it would all cause.”

Then he tried to envision a future with Sophie. A life with her would be different from the picture of familial bliss he had imagined, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t forge their own kind of happiness. He couldn’t marry her, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be together. It would mean compromise, but they could do it. And they’d certainly be happier than if they remained apart.

“So what are you going to do?” Eloise asked.

Benedict’s eyes darted over the horizon, dozens of possibilities tumbling through his mind. Anxious, joyful, heartbreaking, ecstatic.

“I don’t know yet.”

His sister rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze before she stood, dropped her cigarette and stubbed it out with her toe. She brushed off her dress and smoothed her hair, then looked down at him. 

“A word of advice. Don’t fear what others may think. When you find someone, whoever that person is and wherever they come from, if you feel drawn to them, hold onto that feeling. Nurture it. You are a man, and I dare say it would be easier for you to get away with than me. So do it. Live your life and don’t give a damn about society.” 

Then the fire drained from her voice as it became shaky with emotion. “It’s something I wish I had done long ago.”

Turning on her heel, she pulled herself back into the house through the open window and left Benedict alone in the night air, contending with his thoughts.

Marching back through the halls, Eloise wiped a tear from her cheek as her mind replayed her own flirtation with a different life. One that would have been harder, but also simpler than the one she was born into. A life of action and activism. A life of work but fulfillment. A life as the wife of a printer, filled with literature and love.

Any chance at that life had been dashed not only by her own fear of pursuing it, but by the acid pen of Lady Whistledown who had exposed her unchaperoned excursions and scandalized her family. That had been the hammerblow of certainty that if a young lady were to step one toe out of line from society’s expectations, woe would befall her. So ever since, Eloise had done her best to content herself within her gilded cage, waiting for the day when she would either be old enough to break free without censure or meet the man who miraculously defied her abysmal appraisal of his sex.

This was her destiny, one that must find her. But with Benedict able to navigate society more freely due both to his charismatic nature and his gender, surely he had a much greater chance of defining destiny on his terms. She would never forget how dejected he had been after the masquerade ball where he alleged to have met the love of his life. As he quested for her in the months that followed, Eloise watched the light of humor and charm that she so loved in him grow dimmer and dimmer until it almost seemed extinguished. But in recent days it had undeniably returned and she felt as if she had the old Benedict back. If Sophie was the cause of this change, then she would do everything in her power to support their secret romance.

Stopping in front of a mirror she dabbed her eyes, set her resolve, and returned to the ballroom.

“Kate!” 

The Viscountess stood near a throng of mamas, graciously accepting their compliments for the hostess. Wrapped in a shimmering sari of ombre blue and purple, she matched both the colors and grandeur of the decor perfectly. 

“Are you enjoying the evening, Eloise?” She smiled as she turned to her sister-in-law.

Adopting a cheery tone, the younger exaggerated a smile. “Oh yes, my dance card is full.” She shook the card on her wrist rapidly, trying to obscure the fact that she herself had penciled in all the names, including Robert Burns and George Washington. Clasping her hands behind her back, she continued. 

“I’ve met so, so many wonderful bachelors tonight, thank you. I am here to ask you a favor.”

“Yes?”

“My temporary lady’s maid, Miss Sophie Beckett. I have grown quite fond of her and she is very skilled, as you can see.” She pointed proudly to her bejeweled coiffure. “Can I ask that she accompany us back to London? I know that the other maid will return, but she can take care of Francesca and Hyacinth.”

The Viscountess balked, stunned to hear Eloise express any praise for a lady’s maid, let alone the request to retain one permanently. Her sister-in-law was single-handedly the cause of the majority of staff turnover for the Bridgerton household. Whatever magic Sophie Beckett possessed, she was now determined to secure it for as long as possible. 

“If you both desire it, yes, we can take her on in London.”

Eloise beamed with excitement. “Thank you!”

Returning her smile, Kate wondered how far she could push her luck. “Now, would you like to meet Lord Gloucester? He is…”

“No!” Eloise nearly leapt away from her like a cornered animal. “Sorry, I’m incredibly parched. I must get a glass of lemonade.” Waving her off, she nodded her thanks once again and then disappeared into the crowd.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm @kmc198n @makaylan @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @alexandrainlove @chase-your-dreams-away

[peace-for-levi]

golden hour

{sometimes i get ideas for drabbles that aren't long enough to be chapters, or oneshots. this was going to be a side chapter/drabble of morgen, but i didn't like where it was headed so i rewrote it. pls accept my garbage, i wrote this in ~45 mins}

cw: i have projected!!!!!! my abandonment issues onto levi lmao. anxiety, trauma, very slight possessiveness (but not to the point it's unhealthy) references to smut from the night prior. so mdni! finale pt. 1/manga spoilers!!!

w/c: 1201

taglist: @levmada @poisonpeche @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @whattheheckmidoriya @notgoodforlife @anlian-aishang @unadulteratedtreecrusade @nelapanela94 (i honestly forget who's in my taglist??)

Levi Ackerman doesn't know peace. He is a man most acquainted with strife and sacrifice.

The void left in his heart after the Rumbling is gaping and steep. It pulls him into the dark, with little hope of anything good ever happening. Maybe he doesn't deserve it; maybe he isn't meant to have nice things. That's what the cynical side of him says. But then again, cynicism was all he ever had. Negativity, doubt... As a soldier, he always had to err on the side of caution.

So the idea of you laying in his arms, flush to his bare chest, is something so foreign to him. Levi can hardly believe his eyes.

Sunlight filters through the windows, casting rays and lighting up the room. Shining on you, he finally takes you -- and all your wonder -- in and he breathes easy.

He pulls you closer. Where is the next threat? When, even?

This is too good to be true.

You stir in his embrace and he relaxes, allowing you to fidget and stretch as needed. Your dewy and damp hair from last night clings to your forehead. Dirt doesn't repulse him too much anymore, he thinks. Well, not if it's you. He flicks the stray hairs dangling in your eyes away, and blows the rest away gently. Now he sees you.

He gasps when you smile in your hazy state, snuggling closer.

"Mornin'," you sigh.

"Mm." He doesn't mean for it to come across as a grunt. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

The gravelly baritone of his morning voice sends shivers down your spine. "Ohhhhh yeah."

It would be hard not to sleep well after last night, but he will stay on alert. He had his night of fun. Now it's time to get back to business. But what business does he have left? The teashop? It's closed today. Maybe cleaning the kitchen. Oh wait, you did a spring clean of it last night.

He sighs, heavily. It's hard to go from always having a task to do, to nothing at all. He can't lose his edge, it's too soon. It's barely been a few years. If he loses his edge, what happens then? What if you slip through his fingers? What if you realize that your time could be spent elsewhere, fulfilling whatever dreams you may have?

Not that he'd stop you, it's just…

I just don't have anyone else, he thinks, selfishly.

He must stay alert and aware all the time. He gave into desire last night when he could have been doing something more productive. If you continued to see how good he was, you'd continue to need him, hopefully. He needed you to rely on him, to need him, so that way, you'd always come back to him and you'd be in his life.

"You're shaking."

He's snapped out of his toxic train of thoughts. "Hmm?"

"When you tense your muscles, though it's faint, you shake, and…" you lean in closer, ear to his chest, "well, I feel it a lot more since I'm right next to you."

He sweeps his hand to cradle your head, wanting to keep you there.

"Sorry, guess I'm just…"

You peek up at him. "Just what?"

"Tch… Just forget it."

You blink owlishly. Sheesh, you only wanted to open a line of communication with him. But even after all those years, even when (an unsteady) peace between Eldia and Marley was established, he keeps his walls up. He doesn't know that it's okay to start taking down those bricks, however slow or long it may take him to.

The birds are chirping a song outside, perched on the sill. You smile softly, listening. "Do you hear them?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his arms. "Relax, and listen to them. They're trying to talk to us, maybe." You search for his eyes.

"Yeah, they say you need a shower."

Despite his joke, his pupils are trained on the door into the hall of your shared apartment. The poor man, is all you think; a tortured soul who's not used to reprieve and doesn't know how to accept the rest he deserves. Always on the lookout.

You shimmy out entirely of his grasp and sit up. Though faint, you don't miss the bit of resistance he put up. You purse your lips in thought. Coax him out of it. That's always been your go-to method of trying to get him to open up.

A small nudge in the right direction.

"Last night was fun."

He had started to hum with the birds up until then. He peers back and he turns fully to face you. "Good, I'm glad. I feel the same."

"So feel it," you insist. "I think you don't allow yourself to enjoy the nice things in life."

He scoffs, in denial. "I'd hardly consider this a pleasant "morning after" experience."

"Not when you keep yourself so guarded and cagey, no."

Whatever scoff or smirk he tried to force fell flat. He averts his gaze, sensing a lecture. But when you move to ruffle his slowly thinning hair, his milky and grey eyes find yours. You smile sadly at the grey hairs you spot.

"I'm fine, I'm okay, Levi. You don't need to worry about me, ever. So rest. It's just us, now."

He scoffs, again, and turns his back to you. You flop down and trace the pads of your fingers over his muscles. You trace every scar and blemish; every cut and piece of skin so torn, it can hardly repair itself back to "normal."

He's always been the most human of the lot, and the most scarred (in more ways than one.) He carries the scars with him. The anguished fallen, the courageous subordinates he never got to apologize to. He carries them with him. Like how he carries his former squad, Erwin and Hange.

"Put down your swords now, Levi, the war is over. Take off the armour, too, that shit gets heavy."

He swallows thickly. "What about you? What if you're ever in danger? With my body like this, I ca–"

"Leave the sword at your feet, then. Pick it up when you need to," you soothe. You lean down to kiss him. When his shoulders creak, you giggle. "See, you're getting old! We should resting now."

I just can't be alone. Not after everything that's happened, he thinks.

"'We'," he parrots. "What about when you get bored living with a cripple?"

What will I do when you leave me?

"Well, no one else can make Sunday morning pancakes like you!"

He smiles for the first time now, his lips curling with bliss. He has to internally fight the urge to tense. "Don't make it out that pancakes are an achievement… Then again, I have never seen someone so god-awful at flipping."

He rolls onto his back now. You lower a hand to his scarred, pallid cheek. You smooth a thumb under his milky eye. As gently as you can manage, you sink back into his arms.

"So as long as you'll have me, I won't be leaving any time soon."

You don't miss the thick swallow and the trembling lips.

"I'm staying right here, 'Vi."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rbs and comments always appreciated!! ♡

[darkdarkstucky]

Enchanted, S. Rogers and C. Kent.

SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

CHAPTER THREE

“Wake up, buttercup!” Natasha cheerily exclaims, clapping her hands together after successfully pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in your desolate quarters. You groaned sleepily turning your head towards the other direction, until she peeled the covers back from you.

“Uh-uh, we are not letting you sleep in the bed for days on end again.” the red head tuts, pulling your limp arm and ushering you towards a seating position. “Today, we're going out and walking on sunshine vampy.”

“No. Let me wallow in doubt and sadness.” you whine, eyes shut. You were still in dreamland, nestled in the covers with the ac on full blast— and you could literally spend days in the bed it feels like. You were always so sleepy and tired.

Part of you blamed it on over-thinking. Your brain must have been fueling up for all of your racing thoughts. Or it was only during sleep that you weren't thinking anything.

“Can't. The sun is up and the day is to be conquered. Where's your fucking spirit?”

“Oh wait! I remember where i left it, let me check.” you wiggled, making her hold loosen before you dived back into the sheets.

Comfy. So so nice.. you rub your face in Clark's pillow, sighing out in bliss. Just as you were about to doze off again..

“Nat!” you bellow, feeling yourself get lifted off the bed and towards the en suite.

“We're going out and fucking things up dollface! No excuses!”

☁️

“I feel like richard gere and you're my bitch- well, technically not one, but you get my point.” Nat nonchalantly puts down the menu, staring at you from across the table.

There was an astounding array of shopping bags placed neatly along the floor, both of you going haywire on different shops and swiping daddy's plastics, and only when you calmed down did you realize how much clothes you bought.

You'd feel bad, yet both Steve and Clark had gaslighted you early on that it isn't real money princess. So you went on your merry way each time and thought as if you were only playing pretend.

“Why can't i be a bitch?” you mutter, inbetween bites of garlic bread, basically inhaling the small tray of decadent pastry. It was crunchy, and soft on the inside with hints of melted cheese. Ohmy, you wanted to gobble it up.

Nat looked at you as if you were stupid. “Because.. you're rainbows, and butterflies and shiny shimmering glitter.”

You made a face, “You're saying i'm made of nice things? Aww, naty.”

“Yes, and if i put you in my mouth, you'll melt like a cotton candy.” she flippantly voices, which made both of you stare at eachother— silent and intent gazes, before bursting into laughter. Giggling at the unknown double entrede.

“Hello, madamme.” Your head snaps towards a slightly familiar older man decked in a pristine suit, an easy yet flattering grin on his face. “How are you finding your lunch? Has anyone taken your order yet?”

“Oh, hey ben. It's pleasant, as it always is. We've actually just placed our orders,” You smile in response.

“Oh that's great! and you're here with Mrs. Barnes, i see.” He politely nods to the red head. “Will you be joining Mr. Kent at the second floor? He's got an entourage, but i doubt it's concerning business. It appears to be more casual.”

“Is that so? I mean, Clark did say something about a lunch. Who's he with?” Your mouth moves faster than you could think.

In reality, the only thing you've recieved from both of them were casual goodmornings and update as to where they were. Steve was in France, Clark said he was in Russia. Atleast, that was what they told you.

“The usual, madamme. A couple of security details, and a new secretary. She seems to be new, atleast from who Mr. Kent usually keeps in his payroll.” The host narrates, thinking nothing of it. Everyone was already well aware of how much you meant to your husbands— to the point where nobody would bat an eye if they were seen out with another woman. Nobody could possibly believe they would replace you.

And you hated to jump into conclusions, but why would he need to lie?

Your heart wanted to lurch out of your chest. Nat's clearing of her throat made you snap out of your spiral; and you schooled your features back into a cheery expression once again.

“Well, if Mr. Kent wouldn't mind our presence.”

☁️

“.. I was actually a scholar of Kent foundation. Can you believe it? Our fates, so intertwined. It was really as if we were meant to be.” Lois gushes, leaning over in her chair, looking at him as if she were about to jump his bones.

Frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable. Nothing about this - if you could even call it a date, it was more like a formal gathering or a meet of sorts that he was inclined to arrange- felt natural, nor right.

Clark wanted to rely on his base instincts for direction but he couldn't grope for a shred of connection. Not even a silver of fondness, which is strange, considering thag they were supposed to be compatible— the person oppsite of him bore the genetic compatibility, as per several tests.

Though, what she said piqued his interest. “Which part of town would you say?”

“Upper east side,” Lois responds. Clark shifted in his seat, a smile making it's way to his features which held a considerable sway in her judgement. He asks a few more questions in that honeyed voice of his, to which she absently replied at.

“Huh, would you look at that.” He leans back in his seat, gears in his head turning but he maintained an easy smile on his face, mirth dancing in the darkened blue of his eyes.

“How about i permanently move your residence in, say, one of my towers?” Lois' breath hitched at the proposal.

“I-i mean, sure if that's what you want.” she gathered herself for a while, before remembering to act bashful and blinking up at him rapidly, smiling coyly. “I'm yours afterall. Your mate.”

You can hear the jeers and the laughter, staying through the conversation, until you found yourself feeling literal pangs of hurt in your chest. Fuck. What does all of this mean?

“Let me kill this son of a whore,” Nat was about to angrily storm inside, but you managed to stop her, putting an arm out.

“Don't even bother.” you murmur, finding it hard to find your own voice. At that point, you felt almost numb— as if your brain was shutting down from what you've heard, finding it difficult to process at all.

You woke up with the hope of your marriage still intact. Thinking, rather stupidly, that this was just a rather difficult hurdle in your marriage. Thinking that perhaps, this was all just a big misunderstanding like what you were repeatedly assured of.

But this was beyond even your wildest dreams. Nothing made sense. It was as if your world was crashing down on you all at once. True mates? It mocks you repeatedly.

Steve and Clark told you that you were the one. You believed them, because why would they lie to you? They had no reason to!

To get in your pants, silly. The rational, or was it pessimistic part of you said.

You blinked away the tears, turning around, and indulging in the manical urge that clouded all your rationality— run.

So you fled.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Potc headcanon:

If their in love with you 😍💘

Jack sparrow🍺

Jack sparrow, can you ever picture the choatic, scoundrel in love with anyone.

Jack sparrow is flirty with women, strumpets, nobles, ladies, you name it. But when he mey you that's when it was different.

Jack sparrow had never been in lover expect the closest thing being angelica (but we don't talk about that).

Jack was quite confident, boisterous in his knowledge of the sea.

You coming in the picture was a whole new chapter to Jack's life.

"The pearl," he thought. "Surely it must've been a bad drunken dream he had with you in it ey".

Jack was, conflicted, confused about you or rather, your being.

His feelings are not one to be taken lightly for, he loved the pearl, he loved the sea but a person. How can this be?

Jack would act rash and odd, like odder then his usual self (and you know how odd he is most of the time.)

He would avoid you and hide away from you. Acting like a highschooler with a huge crush.

For one minute, he would be speaking to someone, and the next he would run from seeing you.

You felt weirded out at first, Jack Sparrow, a confident and adventurous buccaneer, was acting like a coward in front of you.

During the night, Jack would be hiding from you until he calls Master Gibbs.

"Master Gibbs," he whispers.

"J-Jack, is tha' yer, whaddya doin' hiding in tha barrells," Gibbs questioned.

Jack peaked his cattish eyes to see if you were nearby, "gah" he pulled Gibbs into the Barrell with him.

"Jack, what's wron', is tha' kraken after us?" Gibbs asked.

"No, somethin' way worse mate," Jack leaned up once more to see if you were around.

"Then, wha' is it Jack" Gibbs questioned once more.

"Him/them/Her," Jack muttered

"Him?/them?/Her?" Gibbs questioned

"The girl/the boy/the person" Jack admitted.

"The girl?/the boy?/the person?--" Gibbs realised who Jack was speaking about.

"Oh, that girl/boy/person" Gibbs figured out.

"But jack, she/he/they ain't out ta get yer, are they? Gibbs asked.

Jack's upper lip curled into something of disgust. "No, not yet at least, but I've been having these -" Jack's hands jestures toward the word "Feelings."

"Oh~, I see wha' ye mean, I see tha' way ye look at her/him/them" Gibbs nudges Jack in a teasing manner.

"Shhh," Jack hushed Master Gibbs. "Well, why Dontcha go n' tell er', after all, ye do ave' a way wit tha lasses".

Jack turned to Gibbs, widening his eyes. "Wait, it be more than tha' Jack?".

"Ohhh, Jack a-are ye admittin', yer in love wit' her/him/them" Gibbs questioned.

Jack pushed himself out of the barrel. "It ain't good mate, I ain't exactly sure what to do" Jack softly spoke.

He cared for you yet he was conflicted. He loved the sea and the pearl more then anybody (aside from rum).

He couldn't begin to imagine being with anyone. Freedom and the lust of adventure were all he knew yet he would need time to figure out his feelings.

Gibbs would give Jack advice for being in love yet Jack would still continue to act stranger.

Jack would give subtle hints, though. He would protect you and act to save you.

Other then that, Jack is weirder when it comes to love rather then lust.

At least you weren't left on an island, although that was more because he couldn't trust Angelica.

Jack would be conflicted, but he would still protect you only the downside is he would try to take time figuring things out for you.

If he did confess, it would be "I love you mate, I always have and always will" leaning into kiss "as do I Jack, as, do, I" y/n speaks softly.

Hector barbossa 🍏

Barbossa, a screaming, strong and fearsome captain that no one dares triumphs.

Barbossa is a man who gives no quarter to those that cross him.

When you picture someone being handsome, you're probably thinking, Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, or James Norrington. Definitely not Barbossa though what if there was something too him.

Barbossa is complex. There's no doubt about that. He's a character that is portrayed in the strong setting not the romantic kind.

Hector being in love would be quite extraordinary, though albeit rare.

Barbossa would often catch himself staring at you from the helm, spying on you through his telescope or eyeglass.

His expressions would be softer; his face pouting instead of smiling over the adventurous horizon.

He would watch over you, from above or far.

He would (Childish as this sounds) dream of you, secretly imploring to show you the true meaning of serenity.

His manner wouldn't change, of course. He would put on this facade of ordering you around or challenging you to keep your mind afloat of any ideas.

He would take advice from Jack on how to woo you but ignore most of it.

Jack would flirt with you but end up bewildered you chose Barbossa over him.

He has hidden himself away or has been quite vague in your presence where as, unlike Jack would speak to you if necessary.

He would be quite protective yet passive toward your nature. He doesn't want to give any hints until he was prepared.

Barbossa mended the helm where Jack caught him staring at you, "staring off again, eh Hector, or rather, are you staring at her/him/them?".

"Keep yer business ter yerself sparrah" Barbossa growled, warning Jack.

"You know me, mate, that ain't happening," Jack teased.

"Don't mind me asking, but how can something as fetching as that end up with something as hideous as you?" Jack crossed the line.

Barbossa pulled his cutlass out from his holster, holding it over Jack. "Shut yer trap!" Barbossa demanded whispering.

"No, I don't think I will" Jack was getting on Barbossas nerves.

"I think there's something about her/him/them hm, seems like you're revoltingly intertwined with the poor thing," Jack smiled.

Barbossa clenched his teeth in a growling manner. "She/he/they won't be wantin' anytin' ta do wit me, fer er/is/their admirer is a swine."

Barbossa withdrew his sword and tended back to the helm, ignoring Jack.

Eventually, Barbossa got to know you more and more, he did confess his feelings.

If Barbossa confessed, he would be emotionally sincere, and with only two words, he admitted "yer treasure."

Will turner🌊

Will Turner was at first a blacksmith, and he often visited Elizabeth.

Will being in love is quite a passionate experience. He would bring the whole world to you.

Will would be around you. He would travel the ocean just to be with you.

Will would team up with Jack to save you from anything.

When the events of Davy Jones took place, he swore his heart to you.

No doubt Will Turner was a strong lad and devoted.

Will was looking out over the horizon, deep in thought.

"Is everything alright, Will?" Elizabeth leaned against the railing.

"Yeah, just, contemplating is all," Will stared off into the distance, looking at you.

"You like her/him/them, don't you?" Elizabeth softly muttered. She had feelings for Will, but it seemed his eyes were on you.

"Aye" will glanced at the broken hearted Elizabeth.

"Least you two have a lot in common," she tried to smile.

Will walked over toward you and held your hand. "Y/n, ever since we first met, I haven't stopped thinking about you, I love you."

The day will confessed was the day he promised to come ashore once every couple of years.

Will Turner was a legend with a heart he held only for you.

Elizabeth Swann 🦢

Elizabeth was the pirate king. She had finally been elected to phase through with the next plan of killing Cutler Beckett.

She was tough, and you knew that, once a woman who was fantasised pirates now a powerful king destined to sail the seas.

She protected you, cared for you, and loved you.

Elizabeth swore she would keep you alive until the aftermath as to which she would dream of living with you.

Will noticed, he approved but felt broken hearted that it wasn't him.

Jack was walking up to her. "So, you and y/n hm, didn't think you'd fancy her/him/them. Thought you fancied dear William."

Elizabeth looked at Jack and looked away. "I did once," she held a playful smirk on her face, "though, things change, you know it intrigues me, Jack, why you're so curious about who I fancy".

Jack gripped the bottle of rum, and he sipped the bitter liquid. "Hm, just wonderin' love".

"Did you place a bet on me with Master Gibbs?" Elizabeth asked.

"What me, nooo~" Jack wasn't able to pull off the facade. "So, mabey I did."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes "unbelievable". She focused her gaze onto you.

"You love her/him/them, don'tch you" Jack blurted out.

Elizabeth turned back to Jack. "Mabey I do," she confirmed.

Jack in his mind knew he would win the bet, that barrel of rum is his.

If she confessed, it would be during the fight with Davy Jones. "I love you, y/n!" She would scream in the rain.

Henry Turner 🔱

Henry was the son of Will Turner, a boy that wouldn't give up on trying to release his father's curse.

Henry would be quite inexperienced when it comes to love, the boys like a puppy.

He would interact with you and be by your side.

He would take interest in many of your things.

Henry would get advice from Jack that would make Carina roll her eyes.

"Henry, are you with it" Carina waved her hand in front of Henry's eyes.

"Huh, yeah, uh I think so" Henry smiled innocently.

"Good, if we sail east, we should be able to find the trident," Carina showed henry the diary of Galileo. The Ruby showed a map that Carina had been using.

Henry had been averting his eyes to behind Carina once more seeing you.

"Henry, what's with you?" Carina asked.

"Are you staring at another girl/boy/person?" Carina grew annoyed."For heavens sake, Henry, we must concentrate if we ever wish to free your father".

Henry nodded, getting his mind back into the main goal.

Henry couldn't help himself by being around you though Carina got annoyed with Henry's gushing.

When he confessed, it was after he freed his father. "Y/n, I love you, you've been there when I needed it and I thank you for that" Henry would then lean in to kiss you.

Davy Jones 🐙

Davy had only ever gave his heart to only one person, a goddess of the sea.

He's cold, cruel and had his heart hardened.

Davy would in love again would be a rarity, he couldn't feel for anyone else.

It was break his grief, he would be able to move on and regain humanity.

It would be possible he may just be able to turn human.

Davy had finally admitted his conflicted feelings for you, seeing calypso before the final battle.

Tia Dalma appeared behind Davy. "You know what fate has woven you back".

"I dah naught need ta' see you" Davy said in anger.

"Your heart still beats, a life spared by your own choosing," Tia stood her ground.

"Ah spar nah one" Davy said in a short fuse.

"A heart that beats but not for my own," Tia admitted.

"You've spared a life, a life not given to cruelty." she caressed his cheek "a woman/a man/a person".

"AH DONT SPAR LIVES-AH!" Davy shouted, slamming his claw hand against the wall next to Tia.

"You broke my love," Davy muttered before calming down.

Tia whispered before Davy left, "Your heart belongs to me but it beats for her"/him/them.

Davy would take time, he would confess during the last maelstrom battle. He would see you wounded and that's when his rage was let out.

"Y/n," he would mutter before roaring and slaughtering the men.

"My heart belongs to you."

Cutler Beckett 🍵

Beckett is cold-hearted, he is ambitious and an intelligent man.

He wouldn't usually show how soft of a man he would be, but that changed.

Beckett would at first try to manipulate you, for you to give up sparrow.

He would hire you on occasions to spend nights with him as a strumpet.

He would keep these occasions on the down low in private.

He would use you, but he also holds affection for you, attraction.

So when the time came, he had to choose you or the company.

"We got him, sir, we got him, Captain Jack Sparrow" The navy officer said.

Jack was trapped in chains between his hands and feet.

Beckett gave a wry smile of amusement "well, if it isn't captain Jack Sparrow".

Jack glanced up to see the lord.

"After all of this, a filthy scoundrel trapped in chains" Beckett smiled with amusement.

Beckett pulled out his flintlock pistol, aiming it at Jack.

"Send my regards to Jones for me, will you, Mr Sparrow?" Beckett smiled.

You come in the way of the between Jack and Beckett.

"Y/n, move," Beckett ordered.

Since you refused, Beckett aimed the pistol directly in front of you and Sparrow. "I'll give you the final chance to turn away now, girl/boy/y/n".

Beckett was frustrated that you defended Sparrow. For a moment, he lost his composure.

His cold eyes drew into one of regret for a moment, as if he truly treasures you.

Yet his morals kicked in and shot you. Blindly, he didn't know, he couldn't tell where his mind was but his ambitions had gotten in the way.

He looked distraught and shocked, as smoke left the pistols' end point.

Beckett hadn't really meant to kill you, not really, but his ambitions were tremendous.

If he confessed it would be "you make me content, a sweet girl/boy/person in this devastating world betrothing herself/himself/themself to my desire. What a despicably beautiful act."

James Norrington 🎖

James had his heart broken by the woman he was devoted to.

He was honorable, polite, and a man with high morals.

The admiral has been in love before but could never really express it.

If he were to love another, it would be better for him so he could move on.

James met you when he betrayed Will and Elizabeth when he retrieved the heart of Davy Jones.

Beckett dismissed the admiral as he was set out to be promoted and restored once more.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" James said in concern.

"I had to see you, the chest of Jones, did Will and Elizabeth destroy it?" you asked in a huff.

James looked down in shame, he betrayed the only friend he had.

"So they didn't?, why?" Y/n asked.

"Listen to me y/n, there may not be much time, Beckett's men will hunt you if they find out you're associated with Sparrow" James whispered.

"You need to leave, don't come looking for me anymore, your safety is my highest concern" James looked around the hall outside of Beckett's office.

"You're precious to me, more than any I've known," James suddenly pushed his lips to meet yours, like it's a goodbye kiss.

"Now go," James ordered you.

You listened and left without a word as James breathed a sigh in relief and attended his duties toward Lord Beckett.

If James were to confess, it would be like "y/n, you're a fine woman/man/person, and you would make an even finer wife/husband/partner."

Tia Dalma 🐚

Tia was a wild woman. She was extraordinary compared to the rest, she likes to explore those she's interested in.

Tia had only loved once, a man from a long time ago but he betrayed her.

Tia being in love would finally heal her wounded heart.

She would be able to move on but not destroy Davy Jones as he was her past.

Tia was greeting Jack Sparrow, an old friend.

"Jack Sparrow," Tia smiled at the captain.

"Tia--" Jack noticed you behind the back "question, who's that" he pointed.

"She/he/y/n is a child with a destiny," Tia said no more than that.

"New friend, congrats, love," Jack smiled.

"She's/he's/their more than just that," Tia implied.

Jack was astonished, although he didn't know the full story.

Tia had guided you from the beginning, she was a goddess you fell for.

When she confronted Davy Jones, you felt Jealous knowing her past.

Davy would kill you for taking his lover.

If Tia confessed, she would do it after her Goddess form "my y/n," she whispered.

Carina smyth ✨

Carina was a very smart woman, an astrologist curious to know who her father was.

Carina being in love is more likely to involve her being caring toward you.

She would spend time with you and tell you about the stars and her past.

Carina was talking to Henry; Henry respected her decision but felt bad for himself as he had a crush on her.

Carina was watching over you as you were tied with Henry and Jack to lead Barbossa and his men toward the trident.

"I don't believe now's the time to be asking odd questions, henry," Carina whispered.

"You like her/him/them. I understand, but what would happen if the captain killed us? " He whispered back.

"I think you should tell her/him/them, or they'll be no other time," he said.

Carina looked toward you as Captain Barbossa untied her to guide them over the waters.

She quickly demanded a word with you, or she won't tell them. Barbossa impatient said she had 5 minuets.

"Y/n, listen, I should've said something earlier, but I'm glad you're here with me," she admitted. "If I ever did meet my father, he would be proud of us".

If carina confessed, it would be after she found out who her father was. "I love you; I really do."

Armando salazar 👻

Salazar was sailing the seas, hunting down pirates until he died from the hands of Jack Sparrow.

Armando was human and when he fell in love he showed it through his soft side.

When he turned into the un-dead, he became cruel, cold and merciless.

Salazar kept an eye out for only one thing; revenge on sparrow.

He looked over the deck to reminisce over his past life.

He remembered you, your warmth and soft touch.

It was the only part that made him feel human.

You were probably long gone by now since Salazar had lived on for quite sometime.

That was until Jack had an encounter. After Salazar had become human from the trident breaking.

His flesh and memories were flooding back, ones of love and joy.

"I am back mi amore, I am alive," he muttered.

However, it was short lasted when Barbossa sacrificed himself to the sea killing him in the process.

"I-am-alive" as his last and final vision was you.

If he confessed, it would be when he was human and did it in a shy yet ambitious manner. "Sounds stupid, doesn't it, but te amo y/n."

Phillip swift 📔

Phillip was captured by the infamous blackbeard.

He was forced to work under his name, as a servant of the pirates.

Phillip had been tortured, physically and mentally by the captains cruel nature.

The only thing that kept him going was his bible.

When Phillip was in love it would've been with you either as a captive or a mermaid/merman/merperson.

Phillip escaped the treacherous crew from the fountain and ran back to find you.

"You came back" you said with your hands tied up to a tree "why".

"God gives love to all, gods creation shall be protected." he used a small dagger to untie you.

"I am his messenger, I will not let you die," he tried hard to uncut you.

"Phillip, I'm not special, I'm not worth your time," you said.

"What, of course you are. You are god's beautiful gift to this world, as you are mine" he finally uncut the bonds holding you.

You fell back into the water as he let you escape.

You had some options to take him with you or leave him on land.

If he confessed, he would say outright, "You are a beautiful creature, made from the heavens above."

Syrena 🧜‍♀️

Syrena was caught by the crew for her tears.

She didn't know the human world, but she knew cruelty.

You were a boatswain on black beard's ship. Angelica prompted you as she thought you were more tougher.

You kept an eye on everything, the riggings, the crew, and the order.

Syrena became friendlier with you and Phillip. However, you were short lasted as you started to have feelings for syrena.

One night, while Jack was hunting for the chalices. You stuck out.

You brought a small cutlass with you and cut the bindings.

With no word you grabbed syrenas hand and ran.

"Where are we going" she said.

"To freedom" you replied.

Phillip got up and went to check on syrena when she was nowhere to be found.

The crew had no idea where the mermaid or you went but it put angelica and her father in a heap.

They were ordered to hunt you down and kill you.

She looked into the sea yet without a second thought looked back.

"Come, come with me, you save me, I do the same in return," Syerna held your hand.

"I, I can't, you're a mermaid, and I'm a human it wouldn't work," you said sadly.

Syrena looked up and kissed you before diving into the sea. Her tail sparkling in gold.

"I understand, but what's left for you up here?" she pointed toward the way back.

You held your hand out as Syerna dragged you into the sea, never to be found again.

If she confessed, it would be, "I feel it for you, a human feeling for you, I love you."

Angelica tech 👢

Angelica was under the eyes of her father, she had to play a very strict role in order to survive.

She was no mere lady, she was the first mate of her father.

She was Jack sparrows ex-lass, an old flame, broken woman of the seas.

Angelica trusted no one. She didn't want to be played for a fool ever again.

Angelica in love would be like having a second chance only, be careful not to break it.

One night, you set up a romantic giving that was until Jack ruined it.

"So let me guess this straight, she likes you, you like her, and you hate me," Jack questioned. "And you're just here," he pointed to the bard, who smiled and waved back.

"Aye, Jack, this is none of your business," Angelica spoke.

"You should've known. If you wanted me back, you wouldn't have left, " angelica concluded.

"Nah, but see here, love, she doesnt know who you are" Jack turned to you.

"Jack, she/he/y/n doesn't have to know of my life," angelica persisted.

"Though you proclaim to be the daughter of-" Jack nearly spilt her secret.

"I'll cut your eye out Jack!" Angelica interrupted.

"I got a second chance, a chance that you never gave me, and I'll be damn sure you don't ruin it" Angelica threatened.

"Hang on, don't she/he/they know that's blackbeards daughter" the bard spilled.

"Now that wasn't me," Jack defended.

"You're a pirate," you question.

"Yes, yes I am, at heart like my father" angelica admitted.

"Pirate or not, you're still the heart of my sea," you asked.

If angelica confessed, it would be sweet and passionate. "My y/n, you are always mi amore."

Edward tech🏴‍☠️

He was one of the most fearsome pirates known to date.

In the fountain of youth, you were captured as a concubine/concubinus/partner.

You weren't exactly treated with care, always expected to somehow pleasure and entertain all the crew and its captain.

You grew to be tough once you were in the fountain of youth you were forced to join.

Phillip and syrena were the closest you had ever gotten to a friendship.

One night, you entered the cabin to confront the captain.

Though it wasn't as planned as you were held back.

It wasn't easy, but as time went on, you had grown soft for his daughter.

On the other hand, it was decided you were to be made as a pirate bride/husband/partner.

You grew to hate the life but slowly developed feelings.

As you got to the fountain of youth, it was surprising he chose to sacrifice his daughter instead of you.

Though in the end, he may have died, but it was revealed he indeed had feelings for you as he muttered out your name before falling to bone.

Joshamee Gibbs 🍻

Gibbs was Jack's loyal first mate, a member of his crew.

Gibbs was more logical than Jack was and acted like a father figure toward him as a dear friend.

Gibbs was surely never once had been in love as he valued the sea more.

One day, you came on board as Jack's "friend" to see the pearl.

as he set sail, Gibbs had taken more of a liking to you.

Jack would certainly get jealous of all the attention Gibbs is giving you.

Usually falling off the barrels as you walk past from drinking as he was caught off guard.

He would speak to you about the ways of the ship, boasting on about Jack.

Gibbs eventually settled his mind on one thing yet he had to make a hard decision to choose you or the sea.

Gibbs one night decided to take you on a date with the help of "jack".

One day, Gibbs came in to admit something.

"Ah, Master Gibbs, glad you're here, I need yo-" Jack noticed Gibbs's words.

"Jack, it ain't easy, I thought it be the sea, but oh, miss/mr/y/n was certainly a sight." Gibbs reminisced.

"Who, the girl/guy/person, well bloody didnt well know that," Jack furrowed his eyebrows.

"Jack, ye've been intertwined wit lasses before, whaddya do ta reel them in" he asked for advice.

Jack smiled, thinking, "Guess I won the bet, ye owe me a lot of shillings and doubloons Hector".

"Right mate, first you have to set the mood hm, then add some passion t'your evening then--" Jack gave Gibbs a sly look.

"Then wha" Gibbs smiled following along.

"Then you leave the next morning and set your sights on the sea," Jack smiled.

"Jack, I ain't spendin' a crack at jenny's teacup wit her/him/them," Gibbs firmly said.

"Hm, then that's on you, mate," Jack wandered off to find some rum.

If Gibbs confessed, it would be like the old school couple kind "y/n, I ain't usually interested in many bah, ye be one o' a kind, I love ye from the bottom o' the briny deep ta tha top o'tha shining stars".

Ragetti and Pintel 👁💢

Ragetti and pintel are two of the same, not the smartest but not the worst either.

One day in tortuga, the two spotted the sight of a good looking lass/lad/person.

"Look o'er there, quite a looker ey" pintel winked.

"Yeah, bets they taken though" Ragetti thought.

"Only one's way ta find out," Pintel smiled.

"Wait, we's can't just goes o'er there, i means look at them and looks at us" Ragetti halted pintel.

"Who cares if she/he/they's aint inta us, well plunder er/im/em," pintel replied.

"I wouldn't do tha', I would take em out ta sail unda' tha stars n' then dance wit them under the moonlight, reciting some love words" Ragetti swooned at his idea.

Pintel looked at Ragetti like he was repulsive "I would's bring er/im/em ta tha brigs n' if cap'n don't want er, then I'll take em" pintel smiled at the evil thought.

"Ya's ave' ta be in love ta treat em right, I wouldn't hurt em otherwise" ragetti intervened.

"Love, it's repulsive t'ward pirates, keeps us doin' mushy stuff tha aint them" Pintel cringed.

"N'alright, if ye ain't gonna treat em right, then i's will." ragetti approached you.

Pintel grabbed him by the arm. "Hangs on who's says you's get firsts claim".

"I did" ragetti growled. Then the two grabbed out their cutlasses and started to sword fight over the pettiness of you.

If the two were in love, it would be weird yet funny to watch. Ragetti would be intelligent in his ways of speaking to you while pintel would probably scare you off.

Captain Teague 🎸

Teague is an old sea salt, the keeper of codes and the first in the Brethren court.

He would be seated in the Brethren courts meeting when Jack greeted his dear old dad.

"Ello' Jackie" Teague greeted his son.

"Dad" Jack greeted back.

"Been a while, hasn't it" Jack admitted.

"Hm, seems so" Teague replied.

A woman/man/person comes around and greets their husband with a smile and curtious look.

"Who's that" Jack asked.

"They be my new mate" teague didn't reply much more then that.

"Does this mean I ave' a new parent now" Jack looked confused.

"How's mum" Jack asked curiously.

Teague pulled out a shrunken head of her as Jack smiled awkwardly. "She looks great."

You on the other hand smiled at Jack's reaction as you wrapped yourself around your husband.

"Sparrow" you muttered.

Teague treated you with respect and sometimes played his guitar to you.

If he confessed, it would be sudden. "Hmm, guess I would say I love you, but be a bit cliche really".

Bootstrap Bill🐚

Bootstrap was apart of the cursed crew on the Dutchman.

He had no free will and even missed his son.

You were the only bright part of his life, he would protect you from Davys grasp.

Bootstrap Bill in love would bring back memories of his former, dead lover arabella.

You looked after bootstrap as he talked about his son.

One day bootstrap got punished by Davy Jones.

"No, it's not her/him/them it was me" bootstrap defended.

Bootstrap held his end for you and got whipped at the boucan.

Bootstrap would be the most protective man that would stick out for you.

Bootstrap admitted his confession when you were hurt. "I'm sorry y/n, I loved you, I couldn't go through with Davy hurtin' you."

Redd the pirate 👩‍🦰

Redd was a tough woman. She was previously a wench and now she's a pirate.

Redd would be protective of you and she would defend you in any way she could.

She would hold many adventures with you and let you set sail with her.

"Seem's the ol landlubber knows how ta sail" she smiled to you.

"Seems the ol' lass knows her words" you replied.

Redd would be hanging around Tortuga while having fun.

She was auctioned off originally for being a pirate bride however she sailed with barbossas old crew on the wicked wench.

You showed redd respect compared to the rest of the drunkards.

If she confessed, she would kiss your forehead while saying, "Be not many like ye, a true lady/gent/person ta show this lass a yey ol time. I be willin ta spend e'ry shillings on ye if ye take this lass out on a blissful evenin".

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨

[ashbeneviento]

The Serpent And The Spider

Chapter One: Caught In The Web

ReaderXDonna, TAGS: Angst, eventual romance, eventual smut. TW’s: gore, angst, non consensual drugging, violence, toxic themes (TAGS+TW’s WILL BE UPDATED EVERY CHAPTER, PLEASE READ) No beta reader, sorry for any grammar mistakes! Thanks for reading!

***

Radio static vibrated against the walls of the hide out spot, then silence as you shut the damn thing off again.

“Shit…” you mumble, throwing the device across the room.

It’s been three days since the raid of those awful creatures. No doubt the rest of the team were dead by now.. especially after today.

The small and remote village you were ordered to investigate was somehow worse than the larger cities. Zombies? Those were easy. Quick to kill if you had good training and aim, both of which you and the team had. But nothing could of prepared you for them.

Straight from a fantasy tale, werewolves..or lycans rather, seemed to infect the entire village and its residents. Wasted bullets zipped through the air and not a single one fell to their knees, successfully mauling each of us one by one.

And a mutant woman with large black wings who, more conscious than a zombie seemed to rule over them. You knew she had something to do with all of this, but how?

Checking the last of your supplies, you decide it was either time to take your chances and be killed out there or die in this shed. Loading the rest of your bullets in the gun and throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you choose taking a chance.

You felt bad for leaving your teammates behind.

But you had seen what those creatures could do and decided to survive by running away. You were always like this though. Ever since you were a kid. You had to run away and leave your mother behind because she never saved you from that god awful man at fourteen. You wish you could have killed that monster too, but now you did it for a living.

The soft crunch of snow beneath your boots gave you something else to focus on, leaving the past behind and out of your mind as you walked.

There had been no signs of the Lycans in this area so you felt pretty confident wherever you were heading.

An old bridge came into view and gave you a sense of hope, anything to get you away from that village for a while would put you at ease.

Well…it would have if it weren’t for the dolls.

Hundreds, if not thousands of them meet your eye as you crossed the bridge and into another patch of woods. On the ground, in the bushes, and many dangled from the trees as if they were hung. It sent chills down your spine at their appearance. Too life like as their eyes seemed to follow you and your body shook from something other than the winter air.

“Jesus.. what kind of sick person does this shit?” You whisper under your breath.

Thankfully a clearing was up ahead and the sound of humming reached your ears.

Passing through an old gate, the source of that sound was coming from a large waterfall. And there was a house!

“Please let whoever lives here be normal…” you plead to yourself.

The outside looked well taken care of, the porch free of ice and snow. Small candles were lit by the windows, letting you know someone recently lit them.

You knock on the door a few times, taking a step back just in case. After a few minutes of waiting, you knock again.

“Hello? Is anyone here? I seem to be lost and need some help” you call out, rubbing your cold hands together.

The door creaks open slightly and a woman, well.. rather a phantom looking woman revealed herself through the crack.

“Oh thank goodness, I was-..” you begin your fake sob story before you were cut off.

“Why do you have a gun?” A low and raspy voice asks behind her veil.

You pause to look down at your holster and internally curse yourself for not hiding it.

“Well.. for protection, miss” you reply matter of factly. The woman tilts her head for a moment before shaking it.

“No weapons in the house. You’ll leave them outside” she whispers.

You didn’t like that idea at all. She was a stranger, and these people already freaked you out enough that she couldn’t be trusted. With a house as big as this one, there was no way she lived here alone either.

“I’m sorry but, I can’t do that. They have to come with me. But I won’t use them inside I promise” you say firmly, locking eyes with what you assumed were hers behind the veil. She stands there silently for a few moments more before nodding.

She opens up the door more and motions you inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around your cold body like a blanket as you search your surroundings carefully.

This strange and dark woman had a strangely homey feel about her home, a stark contrast between both. Old, for sure.. prehaps even old money too. An inheritance maybe? She was definitely more well off than the villagers…

“You’re not from here” That low, raspy voice said. Not a question, she was observing you too.

You turn and give her a slight smile and a nod.

“No. What gave it away? My accent?” You reply, not willing to give too much about yourself away to this woman.

“Your face” She answers, monotone as she tilts her head.

Yeah.. definitely creepy.

Something catches your attention down the hallway behind her, something small and moving. You couldn’t make out what it was because it moved so fast, but the phantom woman seems to pay it no mind as she gestures you to sit on the couch.

She sits on the chair opposite of you, pointing down to the teapot and cups on a coffee table between you both.

It had been days since you’ve eaten and your stomach rumbles in response before your mouth could.

“Yes please” you say, and she delicately pours you a cup in silence. She also pours herself one but lets you take a few sips and you realize she must have just made it as it was hot.

The warmth felt good going down your throat, in turn warming your stomach. You hum in gratitude as you take another sip before setting it back down.

You look up at her, ready to ask her what kind of tea it was when a strange feeling hit you.

She was right next to the door when you knocked the first time..and made tea for two before she answered it. She hasn’t taken a drink yet, and now the room looked hazy as your eyelids grew heavy.

Y/N.. you idiot! you think as your muscles began to go numb, unable to stand up from the couch as the phantom woman places her cup back on the table. You reach your hand out as you fall forward and crash into the floor.

The woman stands from her chair and rounds the coffee table to you and you unsuccessfully crawl against the wood.

“Please..” you beg with a slurred voice. The room grows dark as your cheek smacks the floor.

[ourmondobongo]

JJK 251 delivered one of the most intense fights till now, and honestly, I can't wait to see it animated! (if I'm still alive 10 years from now, that is lol).

That said, I need to write a little about this chapter because it has been eating me out since Thursday, and the HQ scan release is MAGNIFICENT. So let’s go!

Yuta used Cleave on Sukuna!

But, alas, he wasn’t the one to eat Sukuna’s finger. It was prolly Rika.

I don’t think anyone would think it makes sense that Yuta - second only to Gojo, the strongest modern sorcerer  - could be the one to eat the King of Curse’s finger. While he IS powerful, it is still so risky to think he could ingest a piece of Sukuna’s soul and keep it inside himself for God knows how long.

Also, if a human had eaten one of his fingers, it seems a bit unlikely Sukuna wouldn’t have noticed somehow, as the cursed object holds a part of his very soul.

On the other hand, Rika hasn’t fully manifested. It seems an odd thing since this battle is even more dangerous and important than all previous battles Yuta had since his 2vs1 with Geto. Which may be just a wild speculation, but that has me thinking that maybe - just maybe - he hasn’t allowed her to fully manifest because she ate the finger. Like with the finger bearers at the beginning of the manga, Sukuna would know it is there, and he could target Rika more fiercely. Perhaps get to even retrieve it.

But this is speculation only - and I hope we will be sure of it in the next chapters.

It’s good to remember tho that it was Rika who ate Uro’s arm, not Yuta. And I doubt Yuta himself could have also eaten Hana’s and Inumaki’s arms…

Yuta was right in thinking that Sukuna would be surprised at being hit by his own technique.

However, something pretty nice happening here is that Sukuna looks pleased at tasting his own technique.

You know, we are well aware by now that Sukuna is a hedonist to the fullest. So I’m actually pleased that, rather than being really pissed off for getting a taste of his own medicine, he really experienced this little moment in a way that couldn’t show better how a being can be more self centered lol

I mean, his smile as he says ‘I see. Quite the meal.’ or "Oh, I get it. You ate it." feels like he is amused at tasting some of the power his own technique holds. I can hear Suwabe-san making it sound like he is having a foodgasm. And Yuta’s face turning worried is a sign that he oughta move to his next attack against the King of Hedonism ASAP.

Yuji and Yuta’s hand-to-hand-fight with Sukuna is beautiful, my god.

Sukuna is a good +4m tall muscle-built four-armed TITAN GIANT. Yuta and mostly Yuji are making him bend, making him bleed, making him blind by spitting blood on his cursed eyes, and FUCK - THIS FIGHT IS GOLD!!

Details I gotta highlight:

This is the second time Yuji survives Cleave at point blank, showing how much his endurance is up in such a crucial moment.

It was so smart of him to spit blood on Sukuna’s face. Reminds a little how his lil brother Kechizu spat his cursed blood on him back in s01 times.

Yuji’s determination to save defeat Sukuna and save Megumi with ‘heal up, heal up, HEAL UP’ makes me wanna chomp on wood T_T (C’mon baby, you can do it!)

Count on Sukuna to keep looking amused as he is being wrecked to the bones lmao. But also, this means he is thinking, analyzing, plotting, and soon preparing to counterattack.

The way Rika grabs him by the leg and throws him at Yuji’s soul shaking kick IS PERFECT.

The beating is so well delivered that, in fact, Sukuna is pushed to a deadly gamble.

I love when Sukuna gambles. He does it so many times throughout the story that I don’t think anyone can actually be surprised to see him doing this again in this chapter.

And I really mean it, cause not even our MCs are surprised. They had a solid plan of what to do once they had pushed Sukuna to the point they wanted: aka, releasing the HWC to try using Space Dismantle while tanking Jacob’s Ladder.

In less than a blink, Sukuna is 3/4 immobilized.

Rika, half manifested, gets his upper arms while Yuji goes for the lower right.

Yuta, though, goes straight to his guts, and bravely shoves his hand inside his belly mouth while Sukuna's only free arm goes straight to his head.

The cost for such a risky attack? A Cleave delivered directly on his bloody head.

But Yuta’s RCT doesn’t fail him. And he also still gets to rip out the Cursed Tongue - leaving Sukuna to have only one way to chant curses now. Confirming their suspicions that the King needs to use hand signs and chants or both to use “Space Dismantle”, which is an opening they can take an important advantage of to both use the domain's sure hit and reach Megumi.

This page made me scream!

The sight of Sukuna’s cheek exploding is bloody horrible.

Yuta tanking another slash attack shook me.

But Yuta coming up at the fucking King of Curses absolutely confident he can face him off FEARLESSLY is even more gobsmacking. I love my son!

ALSO: DID YUTA REALLY USE DISMANTLE ON SUKUNA’S ARM RIGHT HERE????

Also, the fact that Sukuna’s output is low to that point is both a sign that 1) his deadly efficiency is truly getting compromised by the biggest jjk team jump this manga had to this day,  2) Yuta and Yuji really leveled up to an impressive stage!

I don’t think we have ever seen Sukuna getting so overwhelmed and shocked.

Yuta’s next sword attack happens simultaneously with Yuji’s blood manipulation attack, and Sukuna loses his free hand while he realizes Yuji in fact just used his spitted blood to blow half his face off, rendering unable to speak.

A little thought I want to share though is that, while it has been long hinted that Yuji is able to use Blood Manipulation in any form after eating his brothers and training with both Choso and Noritoshi, I still have a little doubt whether the piercing blood attack in chapter 247 really comes from Yuji or not.

From the pov in 247, PB comes from somewhere really high and far from where Sukuna is. And in chapter 244, we see Mei Mei and Momo observing the battle from a tall building not too far away. I could see Choso being taken somewhere safe up to and despite being heavily wounded, still trying to help his lil brother. But also, I can picture Yuji rushing up some of the destroyed buildings to locate Sukuna and Higuruma, and desperately PB Sukuna to buy some time until he gets there. 

I mean, if it had been really Yuji, I half expected Sukuna to have a lil flashback not only of the moment Yuji spat on him, but also from when he was attacked back in 247. That would solidify the fact he shockingly realized Yuji is using BM. So I will wait for a clear confirmation...

This talk is pretty interesting and important.

We discovered through Yuki’s search that: 

Even when souls mix to some degree, they don’t become one single soul.

Choso can’t feel the OG soul of the human whose (his) body belongs to, and that’s why he asks if Yuji and Sukuna aren’t a special case. A fair question that made me think Choso could actually give back his body to the guy if he knew the poor man was trapped inside.

Yuji explains that CE plays an important role in the case of cursed objects and non-sorcerers then. Yet, no matter how deep a living soul may sink, it won’t merge or disappear in such cases.

Choso proposes another special case: since Yuji said, “in general level things are unmergeable”,  what if Megumi and Sukuna are different tho? What if that could happen to them?

Yuji proceeds to say he added the “general” thing cause he had dealt with Mahito. Also, uniting souls transform them into other separate being. So as long as a soul CT like Mahito’s is NOT at play, then the merging of souls can’t happen.

And trusting fully in Yuki’s search, Yuji promises he will shake Megumi’s soul awake.

And after learning all of this, I wished for real that Yuki had not died so prematurely. The fact she was a former Star Plasma Vessel, that she could hear the voices of the souls Tengen had absorbed throughout the millennium, and that she had now Maki, Yuji/Sukuna, Choso and Mahito to deepen her research on souls and find a “scientific way” for how to break free from CE, BUT she never could do it… is a PAIN. We can’t undo what GG did, tho, so let's move on to the next topic.

Angel’s technique is special.

But it has a well defined role in the story: one that is NOT what some ppl think.

In an incarnated body, there is the mix of one’s technique + the personality + cursed object. So, since Angel’s CT can eradicate CTs, they can erase Sukuna. As they all want to save Megumi, tho, they will need to do the same thing Hana tried back in chapter 213: using the attack to FIRST weaken the connection between Sukuna and Megumi so Megumi’s chances of surviving the brain damage are better, and THEN move on to finish off the King of Curses.

And here I want to point out how absurd it is for anyone to expect a MINOR side character to end the history of the final MAIN antagonist of this series. Because, truly, unless you are being really disingenuous or purposefully kidding yourself just to hate and badmouth JJK, one cannot be serious over Hana EVER standing a chance against Sukuna. Even more with one of her arms torn off by the King himself.

And that’s why Yuta - the one second only to Gojo - is the one side-handling this freaking final battle. 

Sukuna is damn right roughen and wrecked.

Yuji has one of his arms, Rika has two arms + a bite on his shoulder, his free arm is handless, his main mouth is half blown, and his belly mouth is tongueless and dripping blood.

There is a seriousness to his features that is different though. I mean he is the king of smiles, but he is deadly serious right here...

He KNOWS what is coming. He has chosen to gamble his endurance power against Yutangel’s Max Jacob’s ladder. So he is definitely mentally preparing to receive one of the hardest blows on his unstable (connected to Megumi) form.

And then Sukuna takes it.

His reaction is highly different from last time though, and it’s kinda obvious why. In chapter 213,  he had just barely taken over Megumi’s body as well as he was at 15 fingers. Here he is in his incarnated true form, 19 fingers + his very mummified head in.

That said, the way he only growls/grunts/gasps tanking a DE’s sure hit from someone with a CE around the same as his own is impressive. Not only that, but also another crystal clear hint that he is the fucking King of JJK for a reason. You can’t break him easily. You can’t beat him conventionally. You can’t kill him until his last drop of CE is gone, until his brain is incapacitated, until his self-serving wish to keep existing - even if meaninglessly - is obliterated together with his cursed soul. As long as he holds the overwhelming power to exist, he will keep existing.

Knowing the enemy is NOT down yet, Rika chomps her mouth on Sukuna’s shoulder again as she holds his arms again while Yuta butchers his lower right arm in half, buying the time Yuji needs to fuel the special punch that he hopes will shake Megumi’s soul awake from the depths of this nearly unkillable monster. And if my eyes are not deceiving me, I think that -  by the shape of Sukuna’s tattoo - Yuji hits him in the middle of his chest. Right over his heart.

Megumi’s breakdown deserves an analysis of its own.

But, yeah, IT HURTS.

As Yuji is shaken by Megumi’s state, though, the inevitable happens.

Sukuna, following his gamble of tanking and surviving JL to throw the WCD, does exactly that. The chants come on the page on a background a little similar to how his DE first appeared in animation. It’s eerie, cursed, and we know shit will happen on the next page…

Using what seems to be the arm Yuta had slashed in half (or is it the hand Rika was holding before), Sukuna strikes ALL his enemies with a seemingly WCD. 

Way too close to him, Yuta takes the bruntest of it - the slash rips/slants his abdomen (letting we peek what is probably his liver), his back and his ring fingered hand (strongest way of connection with Rika) is severed from his wrist. Rika is slashed all over her face, the lower jaw which had bitten onto Sukuna’s shoulder is cut off and falling, her monstrous hands all cut and bloodied when they release Sukuna. Yuji is slashed on his forehead, across his face, and by the blood trajectory, from his collarbone down to abdomen. 

There is NO WAY THO that Yuji is dying like that, though.

So before we find out how Yuji - and prolly Yuta too - will survive this attack, it is important to notice here that Sukuna does not say “Dismantle” when he unleashes this attack on them. And, YES, chants ARE important in JJK. (I know a lot of ppl will complain about this, especially since “Gojo died with this attack!”, but I’m just saying what is drawn in the manga.)

Sukuna is back to his menacingly smiling aura as Yuta’s domain starts crumbling on top of him.

But while he is RCTing his injuries and tasting what seems to finally be the end of this cursed battle day, he is struck by the sneakiest signature attack of the modern era.

Maki Zenin, the demon with zero cursed energy, pierces his heart - and soul - with her Split Soul katana.

If I said I haven't screamed at this whole sequence, I would be a liar. This was absolutely INCREDIBLE!

Now I hope GG won't switch the pov back to Hakari x Uraume, but I feel like he might as well do again T_T

Anyway, I just had to write all this to say how PERFECT Gege is weaving Gojo's pupils battle against the greatest King of Curses!!

[aphroditesmoon]

sea, swallow me (part IV)

jacaerys velaryon x fem!velaryon!reader

summary: when jacaerys finally meets the hidden bastard of corlys velaryon, he loses interests in his betrothed Baela and intends to make her aunt his, but are you really what your family has made you up to be?

warnings: MAKING OUT, this fic is inspired by the movie 'song of the sea', CANON DIVERGENCE, slowburn, aged up jace (18 yrs old), reader has selective mutism (she CAN talk), reader is 5 years older than jace, selkie! reader, reader's race is NOT specified(adopted!reader), cursing, nsfw content in future chapters,typical ASOIAF sexism, typical asoiaf targcest.

a/n: yall want baela and reader to have a homoerotic friendship or homoerotic friendship to rival to friendship, say rn.

wordcount: 5.3k

taglist: @marytargaryen , @cdragons , @libdarkheart , @bellstwd , @dianxiaxiexie

@cumslutforaemond , @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @literatureluster, @itszzmoon

♧♣︎♧

Rhaenyra Targaryen was in no state of panic or upset when his son had entered her chambers, answering her call. They both had known what she called him for, therefore both sides were more prepared and rational. The princess was standing by her window, watching Lucerys and Rhaena practicing their sword fighting. She remembered how worried she was when the two sisters voiced their want of being included with the same fighting curriculum as their men. But Daemon beamed at the idea and granted permission. My daughters will not be weak, They shall be as good as me in swordsmanship by the gods’ will. Those were his words. And so they were.

“You called, mother?” The prince spoke after a minute of silence watching her gaze out the window.

Rhaenyra snaps out of herself and turns to her eldest son. “Jacaerys, have you eaten?” The mother in her acquires first. He hummed positively before taking a seat on the long chair. “That’s all well. I wanted to ask you of your aunt.” She states. “The two of you have grown close since the feast- do not deny it.” She shushes him when he opened his mouth to interject.

“I am not upset, we’re not in Driftmark nor Kingslanding, so I doubt there’ll be any rumours brought up from it. And that is not my current concern, no. My concern is on how she fares so far. That girl smiles and bows all the time, you can’t really tell if she’s genuinely comfortable most of the time.”

“She’s fine, I think.” The prince answers simply, receiving a raised brow from his mother. "Well, It’s not like she speaks.” He lies.

“But, she does seem quite excited for a tour here. I’m sure she’’ll find our library to her liking, Rhaena mentioned she likes to read.” The blonde woman smiled in relief of that. “Oh how nice, Perhaps you and your brother could take her to night market as well, there’s more sailing boats this season.” She suggests, making him frown. “I thought you said it’s dangerous. What if anyone recognizes us?” Rhaenyra waves her arm in a careless motion as she moves to sit by him. “You’ll be covered up. Besides, it’s a good thing neither of you have my white hair, the streets get so busy at nught, they won’t give you a double glance.” Jace nods understandingly at her words, still confused at her enthusiasm. His mother was never cruel, he knew that. But he also wonders why She’d worry herself over a small matter such as you.

“Is that all?” Rhaenyra gives a resigned sigh before nodding her head, permitting Jace to leave.

The weather had been bleak so far, thunders and thick clouds hiding the sun. If by tonight, the hints of rain doesn’t disappear altogether, the night market trip would have to wait for tomorrow. He knocked on your door and found no reply, which was of course, expected. But after several moments of waiting, he opens the them to find an empty room. The bed was already made and there was no one besides himself. It looks like you have taken it to yourself in making yourself comfortable here. Jacaerys scans the empty halls and corridors for you but receives no luck.

Bumping into Baela, he halts her to ask; “Is there a possibility that you’ve seen our dear guest around, I can’t find her.” He confesses. Baela, with a book of the Valyrian language under her arm, shoots him an amused smile. “She’s playing a boardgame.” He frowns. “Chess?” Baela gives a single nod. “Yes, with my father. So far she’s lost all 3 rounds. You’re welcome to go watch her fail the fourth.” He does just that, entering the library.

He was met with a tense sight of you and Daemon sitting opposite of each other, Rhaena sits close to you. If she’s trying to help you win, her father cares not for it.

The curtains in the library were all pulled open today, something it’s rarely been done. And the stack of books littered on top of shelves and tables everywhere, made it seem more homely than messy somehow.  All three of you are staring down at the board, anticipating your next move, no one notices his entrance. Jacaerys can’t really blame anyone, even he was getting nervous. You lift a pawn, it stands in the air for a second before you gently place it two squares forward near Daemon’s queen.

The prince consort smiles, and everyone groans. “Checkmate.”

“Your best pawns aren’t the usual ones, the knights and the-“ His words were cut off by the loud sound of the pieces smashing onto each other and falling into the ground as you flip the board off, glaring at him. “Alright then, enough board games for today.” Rhaena concludes as her father shrugs nonchalantly. “I told you I’m good.”

Jace’s shoes creaks slightly as he walks closer, drawing the attentions of all 3 people there. “Jacaerys, have you seen your mother? She called for you earlier.” Daemon asks while getting up and moving to his opposite. Jace nods and gives a barely comprehensible answer as the older man leaves the room. He spares him a glance until he’s gone before turning back to you. “No one wins with him, he has the age advantage, been practicing for ages.” The prince attempts to comfort you, ignoring your glowering glare. Rhaena gives up on the comforting as she buries her face on the table, laughing quietly. "Lunch time now, you two hungry?"

The elders had not joined you all for lunch. You’re sat in between Baela and Rhanea with Jacaerys and Lucerys in front of you. You were glad it was Luc that’s facing you. You have feared since last night that if either you or Jace meet eachother’s eyes again, something terrible might occur.

You were born of anxious possibilities. When it’s become your life to go through and witness tragedies repeating themselves, even the smallest of things could trigger the war in your mind. So you keep your eyes down and pretend you can’t see him sneaking glances at you every two seconds, and you pretend that you can’t see Baela noticing him sneaking in glances every two seconds. If you don’t look, and if you don’t react the way they’re both expecting you to, then it’s not your problem. The steak is excellently cooked, the anxious thoughts you bear can’t help getting distracted by this nice meal, and it's special sauce you’ve never had before. But of course, considering that Rhaena who’s next to you, is currently ravaging a salmon fillet, any meal is better than the ones from sea.

“I’ve heard you’ve never seen a dragon up close before?” Jacaerys’ voice fills the silent, snapping you in reality. You’re forced to look at him and shook your head. “Really? What about Vhagar? Mother must’ve taken you on a ride once a while.” Baela asks in disbelief. You gave her a short smile and shook your head again uncomfortably before going back to your steak. “Then I guess we know where the first stop of our tour will be.” He joked and you brave yourself to raise a brow at him.

“You’re giving her a tour? Have you not anything better to do with your time?” Baela scoffs at him, her temper seems fair but eyes bore a challenge. “Would you like to show her around instead?” He answers the question with another. The girl’s eyes relaxes as she scoops her spoon of soup to blow it.

“No, I’m afraid I’ll be occupied for the day.” She drinks up her soup. The steak is really good dipped in blackpepper sauce, you’ve find. You hummed delightfully, dipping another cut piece of it in the sauce. “Here.” Luc passes the sauce closer. You grinned gratefully at him before continuing your meal. Oblivion of the small smile painted on Jacaerys’ face, who’s now no longer eating anymore.

♧♣︎♧

You’ve never told anyone before, but you have met Vhagar before.

A cranky one, the old lady. It was long past midnight, Laena and her husband Daemon along with their children had returned to Driftmark for two moons. You had waited until you were sure the whole place was asleep before sneaking inside the dragonpit. There’s only one dragon available, seeing as Laenor and Rhaenyra were still in Kingslanding.

You’re not sure how the pit had managed to cover her, but with her singular appearance, a space was made big enough for the beast.

You still remember the flick open of vhagar’s large eyes, staring straight into your soul. You had flinched at the singular acknowledgement, standing as far from it as possible without drifting too further that you couldn’t see her. She had not blow fire straight onto your face as expected, in fact, she barely budged. You took it as a sign to get nearer, until you’re inches away from the beast, who had also moved it’s face closer before laying her head down again, eyes remaining open. You stretched an arm towards her, risking spoke at her hard head, receiving a low whine, as if she’s scolding you. You had never pulled your arm back as fast as that moment.

“You can’t tell anyone about this.” You remember telling her. In which she had blinked her eyes slowly at you in response before closing it for good and falling asleep. An understanding was made that night, between two rare animals, often caged against their will.

But that was almost a decade ago.

You’ve heard of Vermax, mostly from Jacaerys himself, telling you stories of his little beasts’ quirks and habits.

“You should stand behind me, He gets protective of me, especially around strangers.”

You knew what he meant, but a laugh almost escapes you, still. You’ve known him for less than a week, but your heart was very sure, that he is no stranger inhabiting there. You only smiled in response, one too bold to reassure him. “I’m serious, my mother and rhaena will kill me if he blows you hair off or something.” You sigh loudly, to show your annoyance before moving to stand beside him.

The two of you walked in a straight line, the prince confident in his steps while you try to ignore the judgmental looks of the other dragons you passed by. You wonder if the dragons ever talk shit about their owners together when everyone is asleep. Too bad you don’t speak their language. Roaring and grunting.

His dragon, conveniently, was in the furthest pit. And as much as you wouldn’t admit I, you were excited to meet Vermax. You’ve only had one sole interaction with a dragon, who’s reaction had been very disappointing. With the speed Jacaerys is walking as he leads, you reach his pit finally. The light from the hanging orbs all over the place had shed onto his face. You nudged Jacaerys aside and let out an audible gasp. Breaking the ‘no talking’ vow you’ve made yourself do earlier that day, you swore under your breath. “He is…small.” The prince snaps his head fiercely to you. “He is growing.” You pursed your lips and nod your head sympathetically.

“Course’ he is.” The dragon groaned loud enough for the two of you to hear, as if defending himself. “No offence.” You mutter to him quickly.

“He is adorable.” You admit, earning more frowns from the rider. “Fierce?” He scoffs at your attempt. “You’re very judgy for someone who’s never seen a dragon up close.” You couldn’t tell him of course, that in comparison to Vhagar, Vermax is unfortunately, very adorable.

“I am impressed.” You tell him as you bent yourself forward to meet the dragon’s sad eyes. “I think you are very mighty, Vermax.” The beast huffs out lazily. “You know I’m surprised he’s barely having a reaction to you, the first time Baela met him, he flinched and ran away, poor boy.” You tilt your head towards Jacaerys, grinning wildly. “He recognizes me as a friend.” He returns the smile. “Maybe.” Perhaps Vermax knew, that we wild creatures must stick together. “He trusts you so easily, one might mistake you as one who shares Valyrian blood.”

You say nothing, smiling softy at the dragon who’s now leaning his head closer to your hand. “Oh, you brat.” Jacaerys chides him, annoyed. You laugh at their antics, It was definitely true though, Vermax seems very young still, you’d bet he’d be as big Caraxes or Meleys in a couple years time.

After a few more pettings and complimenting the dragon, Jacaerys decided it’s time for the touring to continue, parting you away from his baby. “We don’t have all day. If we finish up the castle touring quick, we’d have much more time to rest before tonight.” He explains as the both of you move to exit the dragon pit. “What’s tonight?” He sends a smirk your way, wiggling his brows. “Something more exciting.” You huffed and rolled you eyes, striding beside to him. “All right, keep your secrets.”

He makes a quick tour of the garden, which was much more prettier than you’d expect. Seeing as Rhaenys wasn’t much of garden person, the one in Driftmark was much more underwhelming. He asked you what your favorite flowers, and you had to take a moment to think.

“I don’t know, they’re all pretty.” You said. “So you like them all?” You shrugged, “What’s yours?” You ask him instead, receiving a quick answer. “Hydrangeas. They’re not everyone’s favourite, but they look magical together.” You nod yourself, placing your hand under your chin in a thinking motion. “Then my favorites are also Hydrangeas.” His brows meet as he lets out a small laugh. “Is it now?”

“Hmm.” You ignore his lingering gaze as you move to the bush of Hydrangeas. “I’m looking at them right now, see. I think they’re pretty, they shall be my favorite if I must choose.” You declared. “Alright, I’ll keep a note of that.”

The two of you moved to the throne room after. A rather contradicting view to the garden. The throne was smaller than you expected, but it looked terrifying enough, being sat in the middle of the dark, silvery room. “Have you ever sat on it?” You ask curiously. His eyes widen and he shook his head immediately. “Gods no, that’s only for my mother.” You raise a brow suspiciously. “Not even for fun, not even as a child.”

“Nope.” He insisted, “Although, Lucerys had, once. He’d thought it’d be funny, pretending to be mother. I’ve never seen anyone run so fast when Daemon and her enter the room out of nowhere.” He chuckled at the memory, making you laugh with him as you move out. “See, he knows how to have fun at least.” The prince snorted at that. “And I didn’t get an arse whooping, guess who really won?”

Jace mentally crosses out every place he’s shown you. Honest to the gods, he knew he’s probably the shittiest tour guide ever. But he tries his best, and he knows that it doesn’t really matter. Hopefully tonight, there’ll be less talking and more discovering. Since he himself have not sneaked out to the night market in ages. And with his mother’s permission, there needn’t be any sneaking around. “So, where to next?” You ask, when he keeps quiet through the walking. “My chambers.” You almost choked. “And pray tell, why, are we going to your very forgettable room out of anywhere else?” He laughs in surprise at your forwardness. “So, you’ll know where to go tonight.” Your frown deepens. “Why am I going there again, tonight?”

“Because we’re off to the night market tonight. And although my mother knows we’re going, leaving by the front door would make such a fuss. Next thing you know, they all would want to tag along. So we leave by the hidden exit in my chambers."

“And you don’t want them to tag along?” You ask almost teasingly, testing the waters. “No.” He says. “I do not.”

♧♣︎♧

It was night enough after dinner. The skies had darkened themselves so well that you could barely even see any stars from your window. The rest of your company had resolved to their own business. You’ve barely seen Baela for the whole day, the young lady had been so busy studying and reading like the scholar she is. Meanwhile Rhaena had spent a good half of her day with Lucerys, swordfighting, and then to their high Valyrian studies.

You had thought that you may find it feeling odd and awkward to be spending the whole day with Jacaerys, but your nerves had lied to you once again.

You were much more comfortable around him than you expected. For one thing, You hadn’t have to mind your speaking. You still stayed silent whenever you found it necesarry to speak, but the need to tiptoe around every person you meet was not needed when you are around him. Sometimes he’ll speak to you like he’s known you for ages, and it takes you by surprise every time.

You know his history, the rumours that has surrounded him since birth. Those same rumors you have faced since you were found by Corlys.

But you wonder how does one like him could still find it in himself to still be kind and trusting, despite being treated the opposite by his own family. It was no secret that his uncles and the queen have a strong distaste for Rhaenyra and her children. Corlys makes jokes of the queen often with his ladywife, the green queen. And now that you’ve known him, you wonder why exactly would such distaste exists at all. A true Targaryen, with the traits of a true king to be.

You brush off your unimportant questions as you tie your shoelaces properly. There was no guarantee what the activities tonight would enquire, but just to be safe, you dressed lightly with a hoodie to cover yourself on top of it all. Peaking out your door, you leave after making sure the doors are shut and no familiar faces are detected.

Jacaerys, who has been waiting for you 15 minutes earlier than the time he’s set, wastes no time opening his doors after two knocks by you.

Closing the door behind you, he fails to resists the grin blooming on his face as he leads you into a small entrance of staircase behind the curtains of his bed. “Ever been on a boat before?” He asks as his fingers make quick to find yours, walking you through the dark pathway.

“The small one?” He grins largens. “Yes, that would be a boat.”

“Then no, I have not.” The two of you finally reaches the end of the way, a small door, heavy of stones is the end, You help him push it to the right, revealing the dim light of the moon, accompanied by loud noises made by the pigeons. Walking out of the castle, you let him close shut the secret entrance while admiring the jet black sky, engulfing the unrivalled sight of the moon. The wind was gentle too, caressing your visible skin, making your goosebumps rise. Your head turns to the boat placed on the sand when you hear Jacaerys’ nearing footsteps.

“We’ll be rowing on that?” he gives you a nod before pushing it onto the water.

“Come on, get in.” You do as he tells you to, pulling your long skirt up, Passing you the giant paddle, He follows suit hopping into the boat once he’s pushed it further into the long river. “It’s barely a few minutes to get there, if we could just walk, that’ll be easier, but water has been rising up since three years ago, so they dug a long hole to make a river, rowing it is.” You nod understandingly at his words as you move your arms with the paddle as he does, rowing fast. True to his words, after a good 15 minutes, You begin to saw patches of grass and sand, along with  bright lights and what had sounded like people.

You fix your hood as advised as the boat reaches it end. Tying the simple craft onto a wooden post, the prince stretches a hand for you to grab on as he helps you up. He pulls you to his chest too strongly, making the both of you sway back and forth. You let out your giggle while your hand grips his for stability.

He smiles with before lightly taking one step away, hand still holding yours. “You excited?” He asks like he doesn’t know. You say nothing and only shoves him slightly before walking over him, tugging him along as you lead yourself through the noisy and bright coloured crowd.

The hood you wear does a good job of hiding how in awe you were of your surrounding. There were many people, but none of them were looking at you or Jacaerys. The beauty was in how you felt like you were everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. You jolt to the side when a group of children burst through path without warning. “Rascals.” You hear a man sigh tiredly before following them. The overlapping voices and laughing mixes with eachother, producing an overwhelming humanly background noise. Spinning your head around the place, your eyes confuse themselves as they turn from the firework stalls and the food section to the toysellers and pantomimes that’s set much further.

“Catch up with me.” You warn the prince as you move without direction to whatever calls you.

Carrot cake, you noted. Passing through a stall of baked goods, and whatever else food you eyes couldn’t have grasped properly as you kept walking. “What are you looking for?” You hear the muffled voice of your company from behind. You weren’t sure what you were looking for. Stopping at a covered tent, you peeked in and jumped backwards immediately when a woman looked back at you. Her head appears through the curtains. “Would you like to know your future?” You blinked at her and was pulled forward before you could speak. “A scam.” Jace says as he leans into your ear. “It would help a lot if you stop running, yeah? No one’s chasing you angel.” His worlds were almost reassuring until the last word. “Right.” You stutter, following his lead now instead of the reversed as before.

“Fishcakes?” He asks as you pass a seafood stall. He sees the frown of distaste and laughed in return. “Not a seafood girl, got it.”

“Beefcake maybe.” You suggest. He humas and lets his eyes roams the stalls while he walks. “I think those are further up.” The both of you are walking slower now, letting you take a good look at the shops and lights. “Have you ever seen anything this beautiful?” You ask, nodding at the lights connecting from stalls to stalls. You would’ve thought they were stars if it weren’t for the mix of pink, yellow and purple. “Yes, I have.” You appreciate that he’s not laughing at you. When you turn to look at him, he’s already set his gaze on you. “Is it always like this every night?” You ask. He shrugs at you with a small smile. “I don’t know, I’ve only been here twice when I was a child, It was much paler then. Smellier too.” You laughed.

His attention was turned away when he finally spots a beefcake stall. Small pieced of them stuck through a long stick and are placed over the tables. “Two please.” He pays the seller and hands you the stick like a prize. “Oh, this is great.” You praise hungrily, taking a bite off of it. “It is, isn’t it?” You hummed in reply, enjoying your beefcake. He continues his stride soon after, fingers still intertwining with yours.

“A puppet show is that?” The prince asks himself as he reaches the pantomime performance. “Puppet?” You repeat in confusion.

He brings you to his side as the two of you stand a bit far from the children sitting crossed legged to enjoy the small theatre. “What’s it about?” You whisper to him. He shrugs and points a finger to the cardboard drawn puppet of a girl wearing a straw hat. A voice of a man shushes the chattering children as the puppet begins to move. "This is a story of Aenathema.” The invisible voice spoke.

“Aenathema, is a seaborn woman, or most accurately, a siren.” The children turned quiet. “Young in age, and beautiful as the myths say, she spends her days swimming and nights tricking sailors for their trinkets.”  How factually incorrect this story already was, you thought. Sirens don’t exist, firstly.

Aenathma the puppet moved through the cardboard cut ocean. “Stories of death luring sirens spread all over the land of men, to warn the sailors and fisherman. But they misunderstood poor Aenathema, for she only craved an end of her curiosity.” You could understand that, if you’re honest. ”But one day, a brave and unhinged prince decided to find the said siren, in wishes to prove his people how false the stories of her cruelty were. So he sailed for moons-“ A male puppet glued to a paper ship moved through the square space, “-until finally, Aenathma, curious she always were, showed herself.” They must fall in love, that’s how the stories always went.

"The prince, with his original intention to kill her, hesitated. The siren and her beauty had captivated him.” Of course it did.

“He invited the naïve Aenathema up his ship, ‘Please, make yourself at home, for all that you could want shall be by your feet, if you’d only asked.’ He had said.”  The two puppets neared eachother, standing side by side.

“Grateful by the prince’s kindness. Aenathema fell into his trap. Weeks past, and the lovesick prince had refused to let her go.” The voice was interrupted when a child yelled out; “Why can’t she just jump back in?” The other children agreed, their voices scattering. “I was getting there.” The voice snapped, making you smile.

“Poor Aenathema could not return to sea, for her magical coat had been stolen. The coat she would need to be able to breathe underwater.” This is the part where she turns into a seal, you think to yourself.

The male puppet was switched to another version with much scarier drawn eyes.

“She devised a plan then, come full moon, she shall trick him into bed, and poison him to sleep. And so she waited, and waited, and waited. Until finally, Full moon appeared. With her siren voice, she lured him to bed, and poured his own poison into his wine. Once the prince had fallen asleep, she took the key oh his treasury and unlocked it for her coat. Fash she moved to put it on, and faster more she moved to dive back into the sea.” You felt your heart drop uneasily, what a terrifying story for a child to hear, you thought to yourself.

“The prince was angry when he woke, four of his crewmen were killed on sight in the midst of his rage. For not only did he lose his future bride, he also lost his future child.” The crowd gasped. You gasped along with them, earning an amused smile from your company. “You’ve never heard this story before?” He asks lowly. You shook your head, attention still stuck on the show.

“Aenathema had swam and stayed underwater for moons without knowing she was with child, but once she did, she swore she’d never let harm become of them, and that the child shall never swim to shore as she did, lest they befall the same fate.”  What an end. The crowd of kids erupted into chaos again, yelling out their questions and even disagreeing with the narrator’s end.

“A bit too disturbing for the little ones, right?” Jacaerys spoke You felt your body relax as you nod at him. “I want more beefcake.” You requested as the children starts to part ways back to their parents.

♧♣︎♧

After spending the next half hour walking around and the market and eating more beefcakes, the two of you decided it was well past the time to go home.

You twist and turned the new bracelet Jacaerys has brought for you earlier as fixes the boat back where he found it. It was no gold, but the marble like blue beads had caught your attention. His treat, he had insisted.

You made your way back in through the hidden pathway into his chambers. It was dim without the light of candles or day. The both of you were quiet despite the fact that everyone else was asleep. He finds a burner to light up his bedside candle.

“There you go.” He mumbles to himself as the room brightens slightly. His eyes were tired and his hair was disheveled, it was weirdly attractive, you thought. He turns to you, who’s now sat on the edge of his bed, equally as tired and spent. Taking a seat next to you, his fingers were sly, moving to touch the beads around your wrist. “Do you like it?” He whispers. You nod your head subtly. “Tell me, I can’t see you. He asks gently

“I like it.” You whispered back, voice slightly cracking at the end. You were thirsty.

“Did you have fun, tonight?” You smiled. “Shockingly, yes.” You could see his brows raising despite the dimness. “Why suprising?” “Well, I didn’t think you knew how to have fun.” His lips spread from a thin line to a grin, matching your own.

“I know how to do a lot of other things too.” The way he spoke was hesitant, like he knew he’s reaching through a forbidden border. But you leaned in closer, till you noses touch, and you had asked him, with the same angel-like voice you had from the night you first met. “Like what?” He answered you with an embrace of his lips with yours.

The first touch of them were teasing, so you pulled him closer, and you kissed him back, fiercer. As his hands move to cup the back of your head, yours finds the walls of his chest, grasping on his tunic like air restricted from you. You feel his lips wet your dry ones, letting his tongue tease your mouth into opening, and intertwining with your own.

As his hands move to caress your lower back instead, you find yourself pushing him to sit laid back on his bed before climbing onto his lap, devouring eachother with more access. The bolder you feel, the bolder he gets with his hands, and the louder the sirens in your head rang. But how could one move on from another who looked at you the way he does?

One of his palms are now gripping your hips, sitting you on him, while the other grasps your hair tight so your lips won’t leave his. He groans lowly. Your fingers are holding onto his neck so shyly, trying not to squeeze it with the intensity of how he’s kissing you. Like a strike of lightning has struck you, You jolted away from his face in sudden. Heavy breathing fills the air between the two of you. “What-“ You cut off his question before he could complete it, “Someone’s coming.” Too soon the confirmation came, three knocks on his door forces you both to scramble from his bed.

“A second!” He yells as he fixes his tunic and ruffling his hair back, trying to calm himself down enough to remove the redness in his face, while you run to hide behind his secret door, pushing the stone door close quickly without making a noise. “Jacaerys.” It was Baela.  

You curse yourself internally, the memory of tasting him repeating themselves in your head like a warning sign. Of course, It’s Baela. It was always Baela.