#LIZZIE IS STILL DARK GREEN

[nerdyspies]

NONE OF THE BAMBOOZLERS ARE FIRST OUT THE CANARY CURSE IS SO NO MORE MOTHER FUCKERS BAMBOOZLERS WINNERS POV YAAAHOOOOOOOO

[randomshyperson]

Favorite Star - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: During halftime at the Golden Globes, two guests find an empty room. Or the one where Lizzie's dress is driving you crazy.

Warnings; (+18), semi-public smut, bottom!Lizzie, dirty talking, implied secret relationship, just sinful. | Words: 1.437k

A/N-> This is actually fluff because I'm a sweetheart and Lizzie's face after losing another award made me very upset. And as the saying goes, the devil works fast but fanfic writers work faster.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You've been teasing her.

All day, even before the awards began, you filled her cell phone with selfies and short videos of getting dressed in your attire - A dark green suit that hugged your body just right and was chosen to match her eyes, giving plenty of material for every rumor that has been circling about the two of you. Then on the red carpet, with intense stares and hidden smirks in her direction that your Agent probably wouldn't approve of. When you finally greeted her, you even dared to whisper how breathtaking she looked next to her ear and Lizzie should have won an acting award right there for covering the way her body shook at the compliment. 

The Golden Globes party was as full as usual, and it was blistering hot and tedious. She still had to deal with an annoying host, and when the break finally happened, Elizabeth wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that the performance had been interrupted.

She made her way through the crowd towards the toilets, offering polite smiles to any of the known guests she crossed glances with and somehow, perhaps because she caught your eye before standing up, Lizzie knew you were following her.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she felt her wrist being gently grabbed. She caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils before you took the lead, holding her hand and guiding her into the first empty room you could find.

You let go of her hand to wrap your arms around her waist, a gentle push to have her against the closed door. Lizzie was still blushing because she was sure Meryl Streep had seen the whole thing.

Your lips were on hers in the blink of an eye, and all she could do was sigh, her eyes closing on instinct. Fuck, she missed this. It seemed like forever since you last kissed, Lizzie was almost beginning to think she'd imagined it.

When you broke apart, you were a little breathless, your eyes shining in her direction filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Hello, gorgeous." You greeted her with a smile, your hands stroking her sides. "Lizzie, this dress is... fuck."

She blushed at your affected tone of voice, smiling shyly. Her hands went to the collar of your dress shirt, and she stared back at you with the same intensity.

"I'm glad you like it." She whispers even though the room is empty and the noise of the party outside is enough to drown out the sounds inside. "Do you know what the best part is? How easy it comes off..." She teases naughty an inch away from your lips, pleased with the shaky sigh that escapes you. Your hands tighten a little more firmly around her waist and Lizzie bites her lip before instinctively thrusting her hips towards you. The cue is answered immediately - You grab her dress to put up a little so your thigh can fit between her legs, giving her something to grind against. But instead of giving in completely, she’s all too aware of where she is and the short time you both have before the end of the break. So Lizzie fiddles with your tie. "We can't. Not here."

You pout, the hands on her hips giving a tentative pull, forcing her to grind down into your flexing thigh, and her determined gaze falters into an aroused expression, the blood flowing not only to her cheeks but down her body, at a speed that makes her gasp for air. The hot knot on her lower belly making her dizzier by the second.

"Why wait, when you want it so badly?" You challenge back as if you knew how about the ache between her legs. You lean in to attack her collarbone with kisses that turn her into a panting mess, struggling to keep her eyes open. You gently bite the most sensitive spot behind her ear that you have learned to memorize and Lizzie lets out a soft whimper, her hips thrusting forward on instinct.

But there's movement outside. Footsteps and a soft bell. Break time is about to be over. Lizzie grumbles, the firm hands on your shoulder pushing you gently.

"We have to go." She says, but you don't let go, you pull her face to yours and kiss her hard. Your tongue makes her knees go weak and the only support is your thigh between her legs. She whines again, wishing she wasn’t wearing a dress at all. "Baby, they'll notice-" She manages to pant between your firm kisses, but she's grinding against you with a little more frenzy in the next second. Your hands move under her dress and Lizzie lets her face fall into the space of your neck, unable to care about the lipstick staining the collar of your shirt.

She choked on a moan when suddenly, your fingers reached forward - you just pushed the fabric of her already ruined panties aside and sank them inside her without warning. The throaty moan that escapes her is muffled on your skin.

It's ridiculous how helpless she is; riding your fingers in chase of her climax in near despair. And you're not gentle either, your thrusts are deep and quick inside her because you can't afford to prolong this and the second warning bell will ring soon. The cameras will be turned on again, your chairs will be empty, and more gossip about a possible relationship between the Marvel stars will surface in the media.

But Lizzie is coming hard against your hand, so she can't care about any of that right now.

It's one of the quickest orgasms she's ever had in her life, but she doesn't have time to feel embarrassed about it. You remove your hand to suck your fingers clean as she tries to breathe normally again, her hands gripping your shoulders so she doesn't slip to the floor due to her shaky legs.

You turn your face to her next, kissing her intensely and Lizzie moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. You smile as you break away.

"I kinda wanna skip the party and take you home, Miss Olsen." You let her know sweetly, and Lizzie lets out a short, breathy chuckle. 

But the second bell rings, and the cameras have been turned on. She curses quietly, and you help her to stand up properly.

"Come on, let me help you with this." You ask, your hands pulling her face to lessen the mess that has become her lipstick as she tries to do the same with you. 

But she knows, she knows for sure that her worn-out dreamy expression, the mess in her hair, will give away what she’s been up to. And that not only the other guests, but the fans will know too.

She swallows dryly, tugging at your hand. "They'll know."

You hesitate before giving her a small smile. "Is that so bad, Lizzie?"

She takes a deep breath, her lips cracking into a small smile. "I just... hoped to share the news in a different way."

You absorb her words for a moment, trying to ignore the warm happiness blossoming in your chest. Lizzie wants to go public. You steal a glance at the door before looking back at her and sighing. "Okay, I have an idea."

The whole thing goes very quickly; you pull your cell phone out of your pocket and take a picture of your lipstick-stained shirt collar. She looks at you with a frown.

"What...?"

"Well, you're not on Instagram so this is as good as it gets." You explain, letting her see the photo and the small caption that simply read “a good-luck kiss from my favorite star”. Lizzie felt her face burn, and she giggled nervously. This would cause some commotion, she could already imagine Twitter going insane trying to guess who you were talking to. Knowing her fans, they probably already knew.

She stares at you to say; "Your agent is going to kill you. Not only that, they'll drown you with questions when we are out of here."

You chuckled, offering her a wink. "It was totally worth it."

She approaches again, stealing a short kiss before touching the door handle. "I'll fix my makeup, you go ahead."

You pout. "But my picture was so nice..."

Lizzie rolls her eyes with a laugh. "I never said you couldn't post it." She teases, and it's her turn to give you a wink before walking out the door.

This woman is still going to be the death of you. Honestly.

[ooooo-mcyt]

To expand on how Lizzie is sacrificial lamb coded to me:

To me it's about how violence against Lizzie is often impersonal, removed from her, for the benefit of someone else, or for some symbolic gain. The sacrificial lamb, killed for meat or ritually to purify.

For starters, all four of Lizzie's deaths in Last Life.

Her first death immediately reads as very ritualistic. Lured into the dark by Joel to satisfy the curse infecting him. Joel fails to collect the reward from it, but when his axe can't finish the job, the universe itself deals that final blow via the zombie, clean and wrapped up with the death of the sacrifice, even if no benefit is gained from it.

Her next two deaths can be seen as a continuation of the previous, even if it happens later on in the series. Joel once again targets her to satiate the curse, and this time he does manage to finish the job with his axe. It only takes one shot, and is done silently, a quick slaughter she has no time to react to or fight. Next she's killed by Jimmy, the only difference being that he uses a pit of lava to burn her instead of using an axe.

And then Lizzie's final death in Last Life, which may be the most obvious example within the season. Lizzie is killed by Bdubs as part of a test. It has nothing to do with her (not that any of her deaths really did), her death was performed entirely for Bdubs' absolution. To purify him of the distrust the greens had in him. Lizzie had no room to fight, no way to see it coming- there was nothing she could do, because it had nothing to do with her. She was just the sacrifice to fulfill the deal Bdubs made.

It's not just her death's either. Look at the burning of the fairy fort. Of course, she wasn't the only target of this act, nor was she innocent. But the point still stands. BigB killed Cleo, not Lizzie, and yet it was Lizzie's forest that burned to ash under the cleansing flames of retribution (this is especially applicable if you consider how cleo and lizzie's alliance was built partially on fear in the first place, how lizzie felt like prey under cleo's gaze, how cleo threatened lizzie with cleansing fire within their first conversations on the server)

You see as well in Secret Life, how impersonal her deaths were.

Nudged down a slide and shot at the bottom, killed in one hit. Struck out of nowhere with little reason while invisible. And finally thrown off a ledge while trying to complete someone else's task.

Her final death is particularly noteworthy for how it interacts with the Canary Curse. The moment Lizzie died for the final time, it was the completion of a ritual, it was the freedom of the canary. Instead of being mourned, Lizzie's death was celebrated by Jimmy and those who wanted him freed. Lizzie's death was not about her at all, but rather an act of freedom for another person, which Lizzie was symbolically sacrificed to facilitate.

After death, Lizzie was used for the benefit of others as well. Her home was raided, her items used for the survival of others, and later on her body (*or at least, something representing her body) was dug up to be traded for an advantage by the man who would go on to win the season.

Then finally you have Wild Life.

First, Lizzie is killed by Skizz. By his own admission, it had nothing to do with Lizzie. She wasn't the point, it just as well could have been a literal sacrificial animal. Skizz simply needed a life, so Lizzie was killed quickly and impersonally. It was the same with Lizzie's next death to a creeper, also placed by Skizz. A few episodes later, she's killed by Jimmy for time, and, while this was something she agreed to (for once), it was still a clear example of Lizzie acting as a sacrifice. Later in that same episode she falls into a trap placed by BigB, not personally laid by her, but once again, impersonally, for anyone.

And then for her final death in Wild Life, Lizzie was collateral damage. A necessary casualty in Grian's grudge against Jimmy. Grian doesn't even address Lizzie directly, speaking only to Jimmy before killing them both, as if Lizzie wasn't even present, as if her death didn't mean a thing. It's fascinating as well that, for this death, not only did it have nothing to do with Lizzie, and not only did she have no chance to fight it or see it coming (as with all her final deaths), but Lizzie was also, literally, voiceless (because of trivia bot robot voice) in this scene.

So yeah. You could say I'm pretty Normal about Lizzie.

[partyswirl]

not redrawing i found it. anyway so often woman characters are forced into that role of the one having to "taking care of" or "holding back" the men characters. FUNNY HOW THAT IS starts frothingat the mouth

god that post making me think of that one meme i'llr edraw it but specifically something about it. that i've noticed

[lauramkaye]

Fitzwilliam Darcy's Lucky Waistcoat, A Comprehensive Analysis

So I was re-watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice, as you do, and I made a joke that Darcy was having his valet get his lucky waistcoat to go see Lizzy- and then I was like, wait. Isn't he wearing that same one the day she comes to Netherfield to take care of Jane? Maybe it IS his lucky waistcoat!

So I had to re-watch it again to validate my theory and honestly I think I might be on to something.

First, the waistcoat in question: it looks brown in some lights and olive green in others, but I'm fairly sure it's the same garment. It has vertical stripes, a narrow double gold stripe alternated with a stripe of a woven-in diamond pattern. (Interestingly, Elizabeth's eyes look brown in many lights but when you see her in sunlight it becomes obvious that her eyes are a dark hazel. Am I saying the costume designer chose this fabric to match Elizabeth's eyes? No, but I'm also not NOT saying that...)

It appears the first time in the scene where Darcy runs into Elizabeth outside of Netherfield when she has walked across the fields to check on Jane - the scene where the stage directions for Darcy notoriously said that he had an erection - and also in the next scene at breakfast, which happens immediately afterward, and when he goes shooting with Bingley and Hurst.

(By the way the way he says "not at all, they were brightened by the exercise" and then sips his tea while maintaining dead on eye contact with Caroline like a cat pulling your drink off the side of a table is just... *chef's kiss* .... perfection.)

The next time we see it is the day that the Bennet sisters leave Netherfield. Caroline is wearing a very distinct outfit in this scene that has black, gold, and red stripes - note this for later.

At this point, my theory is that this is just one of the waistcoats Darcy brought to Hertfordshire, so it's in his rotation.

Interestingly, the next time we see it is during the scene where Jane is reading Caroline's letter and Elizabeth is imagining the scene of Bingley meeting Georgiana. I've reblogged a post before that notes that in this scene Georgiana is wearing a very fussy pink dress, styled more like the way the Bingley sisters dress and very unlike the things we see Real Georgiana wearing later on. But Caroline is wearing the very distinct stripey outfit and Darcy has on the gold striped waistcoat - it seems the Elizabeth is imagining them in the outfits they were wearing the last morning at Netherfield - possibly the last time she saw them in less formal/day clothes.

The next time we see this waistcoat is at Hunsford: Darcy wears it with his bottle green coat on the day he calls at the parsonage and sees Lizzy alone and they have the super awkward conversation about how far away is too far to live from your family. He comes alone this time, not with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and this is where I feel like the "lucky waistcoat" may come into play - it's the one he was wearing the first time he looked and her and had his "...oh" moment. It's kind of the color of her beautiful eyes. He's going to try and talk to her without his cousin there... it feels like Date Outfit vibes to me. ( I mean that scene is SO awkward because: Darcy, but still.)

He does not, however, wear it to propose - he's dressed for dinner, I think, and has a pale brocade waistcoat on during that scene.

Anyway we don't see the Lucky Waistcoat again until we get to Pemberley, and it features really heavily in several key scenes there.

First off, after Darcy jumps in the pond and runs into Elizabeth in his backyard, he rushes inside to get dressed and comes out, still buttoning his coat, his hair damp, wearing HIS LUCKY WAISTCOAT:

And then the next day when he brings Georgiana to meet Elizabeth he's wearing it AGAIN:

And then after the dinner where Elizabeth and Georgiana make friends and Darcy sits in the music room watching them with his whole entire damn heart in his eyes like he has never been happier in his life, the next day we see him getting dressed and primping and asking his valet to give him his green coat which is paired once again with the Lucky Waistcoat because apparently it's working for him so far? She doesn't hate him anymore and she and Georgiana are making FRIENDS and Elizabeth SMILED at him and everything's coming up Darcy.

So he goes to Lambton to see Lizzy at the inn again - side note, I am SO CURIOUS what he was planning on talking to her about, especially since apparently she was already confirmed to go to Pemberley again later that day - but OH NOES Lizzy has just gotten the letter about Lydia:

(the way he holds her hand and then realizes he doesn't have the right to and SO RELUCTANTLY moves back)

The next time we see it is in the short scene where he is looking for Lydia and Wickham and stops at what looks to be a coaching inn to ask after them. At first I took this as a sign that he left straight from the inn to look for them but it can't be, because there's a short scene at Pemberley where he is with the Bingleys fretting about it and storms off which I think is the dinner that Elizabeth and the Gardiners had to miss. So maybe he wore it because it made him feel close to Elizabeth, or because he was hoping for luck in his search? I couldn't find a screenshot of this scene but trust me. :) (He's wearing a different waistcoat in the scene where he confronts Mrs. Younge in London and another one still in the flashback where he's talking to the Gardiners, so obviously it took him a while to track them down.)

The final Lucky Waistcoat appearance is during the scene where he apologizes to Bingley for interfering, gives him his blessing to propose to Jane, and leaves to go back to London. I couldn't find a gif but here it is with a (perfect) Onion headline:

I think it's interesting that this is the last time we see it, because this is actually when he is LEAVING - when he thinks that he doesn't have a chance with her anymore but at least he's done his best to fix what he broke by bringing Bingley back to Jane and bribing Wickham to marry Lydia. It's so important to his character arc that he does this! He changes his behavior and does his best to fix what he did wrong, because of Elizabeth - because he listened to her criticism and realized she was right about him - but not in order to get another chance with her. He does it because his own sense of morality demands that when he knows he's done wrong, he should do his very best to make it right again. My theory for why he wears the Lucky Waistcoat - or perhaps it would be better called the Lizzy Waistcoat - in this scene is that when he sends Bingley off to propose and leaves town, it's kind of the bittersweet endpoint for him of this relationship that has made him a better man. I think in this scene he is thankful that he met Elizabeth, and while he will never forget her he feels that he can at least go forward knowing that he did his best to make it up to her. I think he probably feels that the second chance he was hoping for at Pemberley being derailed by Wickham and Lydia's elopement - which we see he blames himself for since he didn't do anything to warn Meryton about Wickham's true character - is a fair punishment. It hurts but he's done what he can and at least he's managed to save the Bennet's reputation, and Elizabeth will be so happy for Jane to be happy with Bingley. I picture him staring wistfully out the window of his carriage all the way to London, giving himself one last day to just wallow in his might-have-beens before he has to steel himself to live without Elizabeth. Maybe he's telling himself that they can meet at Bingley's wedding as common and indifferent acquaintances.

And then Lady Catherine comes to see him and is super indignant that Elizabeth refused to promise her never to get engaged to him and he books it back to Longbourn because he cannot live in suspense. He has to know if he has a chance at happiness after all.

He doesn't wear the Lizzy Waistcoat when he makes his second, successful proposal; it's a pale brocade one, visually similar to the one from the Hunsford proposal though I haven't verified whether it's the same one or not. But then, he doesn't need the Lizzy Waistcoat anymore, because in all the rest of the scenes he has LIZZY.

Anyway that's me probably thinking way too hard about a single clothing item from the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice, thanks for indulging me. (Seriously though the costumes in that are so good. I am also obsessed with Maria Lucas' adorable green coat with the pink lining and pink bow fasteners and the rosebud-adorned pink and green dress Harriet Forster wears in her first scene, I think it's at Lucas Lodge?)

[copinghex]

Green Lane | T.S

Summary: The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. Tommy set his wife free.

A/N: I wanted to try something different :)

The house smelled of tea and eggs, the white lace curtains swayed with the morning breeze, the plates with the rest of breakfast were still set and the cat soon would hop on the table to eat.

Tommy was off to work and the baby was crying.

Laying on the bed, Mrs. Shelby barely listened, constant migraines tortured her since the birth of her child. Jacqueline or “Jackie” had a bright smile and reacted quickly to her father's voice, she also refused to be left on the crib for more than five minutes, clingy and stubborn as her father.

Her sight went dark and the baby still cried. She pictured her forcing a louder scream out of the tiny lungs. Her chest burnt in hatred. Why wouldn't it just give up?

Something metallic hit the floor down the kitchen, the cat knocked the kettle off the sink, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands covered her head, tugging on locks of hair.

Her teeth ground, head about to explode, in fetal position her knees almost touched her forehead. She needed silence. She needed everything to go away,

Go away…

Go away…!

A guttural scream was heard by the neighbors. Something was wrong with Mrs. Shelby.

—

The Green Lane looked beautiful at night, unlike the Watery, which seemed to never sleep, it was quiet, the only sounds were grasshoppers and the cars of tired husbands returning to their wives.

There were trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. When Mrs. Shelby turned her back to the house, she saw the world clearer.

Ada lulled Jacqueline in her arms, she brought pastries from a nearby bakery and cleaned the kitchen. The only sound in the living room was the crackling fireplace. Her sister-in-law stood by the window and didn't give hints she'd make dinner or pick up the baby any soon.

To Ada, the signs were obvious, a severe case of baby blues, she feared for Tommy's reaction, God knew he had too much on his back with the expansion to London. Still, she knew he'd be the only one able to pull Mrs. Shelby from rock bottom.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in, when Ada got a call from a neighbor asking to check if something happened, she pitied Tommy above everything.

When he arrived, the house was dark. He walked in with quick, worried steps, calling for a wife who didn't answer. Finding Ada didn't bring much relief. She had vowed to stay away from business, an unscheduled nightly visit couldn't be good.

Jackie cooed at the sight of her father and the sound got Mrs. Shelby’s attention. Her face didn't change at Tommy's presence, as a matter of fact, her greetings sounded forced, leaning more towards polite than affectionate.

“Stay for dinner, Ada,” he offered.

“No, I just came for afternoon tea, why don't you walk me to the car?”

As the siblings left, she knew they were talking about her. She also couldn't deny the inner peace she felt being completely alone in the living room.

—

No one was sure if the pills were working. The migraines were gone, opening space for, as Finn explained about Arthur, “not being there in head.”

Tommy also planned a honeymoon in Gretna Green for the next year. It wouldn't be possible at that moment because of business and the baby, even if the doctor's recommendation was to breathe new airs for a while.

Tommy slept with Lizzie that morning, Mrs. Shelby could tell by the floral perfume in his collar when he got home, she should've searched for the reasons behind it, if it was about him or about her, but with dinner on the stove and Jacqueline babbling, she couldn't focus on anything else. Her brain wasn't the same anymore.

They listened to the weather forecast and a soap opera on the radio before going to sleep, although Tommy suspected she wasn't actually listening. She rested her head on his thigh the whole time and he noticed her eyelids were shaking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I wish you'd set me free.”

—

It was hard to get decent doctors those days, Tommy struggled with not cursing them off, all he was asking for was to find the source of his wife's condition, not to dope her off.

Without the pills, the migraines were back, a maid cleaned and cooked so her only responsibility was to watch Jacqueline. Tommy didn't trust babysitters, the way business was going, he didn't trust anyone.

Around three o'clock, Mrs. Shelby bathed the baby, summer made her sweaty and moody, she cried much more than usual.

The bathtub was covered in bubbles, “Songs my mother taught me” by Nellie Melba played from the gramophone downstairs. Jackie moved too much while the mum undressed her, her pinkish dress fell on the floor.

The maid was already gone and Mrs. Shelby did everything in her reach to keep the house as clean as possible, holding the baby's arms down so she wouldn't splash the water.

It was not working, she was crying. Both were. Mrs. Shelby covered Jacqueline's mouth and pushed her down. The noise stopped, she held the tiny arms again. Jacqueline wasn't strong or aware enough to come back from under the water, the soap burnt her lungs.

The writhing was making Mrs. Shelby nervous, her grip got tighter. Just when the song ended, the writhing did too. She pulled Jacqueline up. Her eyes didn't open, her arms fell to the side. Weird.

Mrs. Shelby shook the baby's chin. Nothing. Tommy. Tommy would know what to do. She needed Tommy.

Running to the phone in the living room, she could barely get the words off. He assured her he was coming and told her to calm down. She spent the next minutes walking between the bathroom and the kitchen, she knew she should do something, take the baby off the bathtub, call an ambulance, anything, she couldn't, she always froze at the bathroom's door, her feet and brain worked together to spare her from the morbid scene.

With tears in her eyes, she sat on the kitchen's floor, her back leaned against the cabinets she carefully chose months ago. They matched nicely with the curtains and wallpapers. Everything in Green Lane was perfect.

Tommy only caught a glimpse of his wife before running to his daughter and the world stopped.

No, no, please no, fuck, Mrs. Shelby heard.

The sound of a cocking gun put her mind to alert. She ran out the front door like a scared animal. His daughter was dead. Tommy followed after, he had her at gunpoint.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run…

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

Tommy pulled the trigger.

She was free.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 23)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

An hour later, when Tommy stepped into the large bedroom he shared with Lizzie, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he closed the door behind him.

He knew what, deep down inside, he wanted and this wasn't her . Lizzie wasn't the girl he yearned for night after night as he lay in bed, unable to chase away thoughts of you.

But this was the life he had chosen; a life with a woman who would bear him children, provide legitimacy, and bring his status within society up. This was the kind of respectable marriage that would keep his illegal business safe and hidden from plain view while gaining him political power. 

As Tommy crawled beneath the covers, Lizzie sighed, recognizing your scent on his skin , but chose to ignore it for the sake of their carefully crafted illusion of a happy relationship.

After all, Lizzie and Tommy were about to begin the next chapter of their lives together, surrounded by the grandeur that Arrow House had to offer.

It was a life Lizzie couldn't have fathomed if it wasn't for the Shelby family. Coming from a poor upbringing, Lizzie had always dreamed of a life of luxury and prosperity.

She believed that being married to Tommy would shroud her name with power and influence, allowing her to reach heights she had never thought possible. When she accepted his proposal, her heart was full of both excitement and trepidation, knowing that this would be the biggest challenge she would ever face.

The fact that he slept with other women also never bothered him, although she knew that, with you, all of this was different. She hated the fact that he slept with you because she knew that he was, in fact, in love with you.  She could feel the tension between you when you were together during family gatherings and the like, as if an unspoken electricity buzzed in the air. Lizzie would do her best to simply observe without getting involved, trying to figure out exactly what Tommy saw in you that he didn't see in her, but sometimes she lost her temper.

"Why her?" she thus asked, after about twenty minutes of lying there in silence, unable to go back to sleep.

Lizzie's voice, barely above a whisper in the darkness of the room, held a shade of anger that Tommy found familiar. 

"Go to sleep, Lizzie," he simply muttered, his own voice heavy with fatigue.

He sighed deeply and settled back into the softness of the bed, his thoughts drifting back to you.

You were never far from his mind, even when he was laying next to Lizzie at night.

He couldn't quite put his finger on why you elicited such strong emotions within him, but there was no denying them.

The attraction was like a moth to a flame, unquenchable and irresistible in every regard.

It was a spark so fierce and unpredictable that it defied all reason and logic. This attraction was a dangerous obsession that would ultimately implode into an inferno.

But then again, he knew that, come tomorrow, things would change. He was going to marry Lizzie , the woman he chose to become his second wife. He would have to put the memories of you, his niece, aside, as much as it pained him to do so.

In the quiet of his dark bedroom, Tommy lay beside Lizzie's still figure. Her soft snores filled the silence between them, but they provided little comfort to Tommy. His mind was distracted, unable to focus on anything but you; your smile, the feel of your body against his, and your eagerness to please him in every way possible.

He had a love-hate relationship with this, but overall, it heightened his urges to have you.

***

On the morning that followed, the big day of your uncle's wedding had arrived and you really did not want to get out of bed.

Witnessing the union between Lizzie and the man you loved made you feel sick to your stomach.

Nonetheless, you got up and got dressed in velvet green gown that accentuated your physique. 

You pulled your hair back into an elegant chignon, all the while staring at yourself in the mirror as you prepared for the emotional challenges ahead.

Every step toward Arrow House felt heavy with anticipation, regret, and longing.

The grand mansion bustled with wedding guests dressed to the nines, the air thick with perfume and excited chatter. Everyone was ready to head to the church and your uncle Tommy himself looked incredibly handsome in his tailored suit.

The tension was palpable, not just from the anticipation of the wedding ceremony, but also because of the secrets that everyone kept hidden. Secrets that, if exposed, could shake the very foundations of their world.

You made your way through the throngs of guests and slipped out onto the veranda, desperate for a moment of solitude. You leaned against the cold stone balustrade and took a deep breath, feeling the chilliness in your lungs as you gazed down at the rolling hills beyond.

The misty morning dew clung to the grass and hedges of the estate, shimmering in the weak sunlight. Your heart felt heavy as you watched a pair of birds soar effortlessly across the horizon, free and unafraid. What you wouldn't give to have that same freedom in this world full of constraints and burdens.

A gentle hand on your shoulder made you jump, but you collected yourself quickly and turned to face your father, Arthur Shelby. His rugged features were drawn further together with worry, his gray eyes searching yours.

"What's wrong, Love?" Arthur asked hoarsely, the hand on your shoulder a comforting weight as he too gazed out at the peaceful scene below.

The concern in his voice was clear, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for ruining the excitement for him. 

You shook your head softly, unwilling to burden him with your secrets and this unwanted marriage. After all, he could never find out about the kind of relationship you had with his very own brother.  "Nothing, Father. I just... I wish this day would pass quickly," you managed to answer as casually as possible.

Arthur's gaze became sharper, intuiting that there was something deeply troubling you, but he simply nodded and pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. 

"I know you are sad because of your fiancé's sudden departure but, trust me Love, you can do much better than him, eh?" your father said gently, causing you to chuckle. 

"I know," you simply acknowledged while, the truth was that you had already forgotten about Robert.

He had been but a fleeting distraction from the one overwhelming desire that occupied every thought; it was only Tommy who evoked such strong feelings within you.

With Robert, sex felt, well, ordinary - not worth remembering. But with Tommy, passion erupted in the most inopportune moments, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed by longing.

Sensing your silence, Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and together, you watched as the sun burned through the fog, glistening on the dewy grass below.

"Come on now Love, let's head off. No doubt we are going to be late," he then said, seeing that it was time for you to make your way to the church.

You took a deep breath and allowed Arthur to lead you back inside, where the atmosphere had ramped up another level; guests chattering in excited tones as they gathered their belongings and made their way out.

As you wound your way to the exit and through the crowds of people, you were acutely aware of the fact that, despite your happiness for Tommy's new marriage, there was a bitter emptiness, too. You wished things could be different.

You sighed, taking one last glance around the magnificent main foyer before making your way outside and to one of the many Bentleys that had been arranged to transport all the guests.

When you arrived at the church, your heart leaped into your throat at the sheer number of guests that had turned up to celebrate Tommy and Lizzie's wedding.

You could feel the weight of tradition and obligation bearing down on you as you took your seat next to your father, who gave you a reassuring smile and, soon after that, you saw as Tommy took his place at the alter , looking dashing in his wedding suit.

Your heart ached within your chest as you took him in, and as if sensing your gaze, he looked up. For just a moment, our eyes locked, and in that instant, you saw everything you needed to see; the guilt, the longing, the desire that mirrored your own.

He was deep in thought , staring at you with a mixture of regret and a need so fierce it made your heart race.

The guilt gnawed at you both, but the pull towards one another remained.

You watched as he took a deep breath, composing himself once more before turning back to face forward just as the wedding ceremony began and it was then that a single tear snaked its way down your cheek, the pressure in your heart almost unbearable.

You weren't sad because of Tommy's forthcoming marriage as such, but rather you were distraught because of what your relationship with him represented - a love and desire that went beyond accepted norms, meaning this could never be you. You could never be with him, no matter how much this was what you really wanted. 

"I am sorry, I need some air," you told your father softly, slipping out of the pew as quietly as possible, but Tommy noticed .

His gaze lingered on you as you passed the crowds, the ache in your chest intensifying. You felt like there was a vice around your heart, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the pain.

Outside the church, you attempted to catch your breath but it was no use. All you could see, hear, and feel was him - Tommy Shelby. The man who had taken control of your very being since you realized you wanted him more than anything else in the world.

At the same time, you watched Lizzie, dressed in white, walking past and towards the alter where Tommy waited. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, but that did not stop the bitterness from flooding your mouth.

You knew what was going to happen next and you couldn't bear to watch.  You felt like you were going to be sick and, despite the chilliness of the air, sweat beaded on your brow.

You could hear every word of the ceremony as if it was happening right in your ear - the priest's voice droning on and on until you heard Tommy begin with his vows...

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[peppered-moths]

allies or enemies (or a secret third thing)

ao3 link

cw: one (1) scar-typical innuendo

So, here’s the thing, right.  There’s only one bed.  Jimmy doesn’t mind–honestly!--but it gets… cramped.  Especially with three of them.  Oh, they’ve tried, but it’s like doing a puzzle on a tiny raft in the middle of the ocean.  Somebody’s always getting kicked in the face, or elbowed in the gut, or (on one notable occasion) the bed lighting on fire because somebody placed a torch too close to it.  No naming names.  So, yeah.  It’s not exactly ideal.

Their solution, which works well enough if you ask Jimmy, is this:

One person gets the bed.  (This is rotated daily.  However, bed privileges are often traded in exchange for doing menial tasks like mining, or making sure Scar’s rollercoaster still works.)

One person gets to sleep on the ground.  (Somehow, not the worst?  Jimmy thinks he’ll end up with a bad back eventually, but that’s a future problem.)

One person keeps watch.  (Should they be rotating this throughout the night?  Yes.  But it’s a formality… for now.)

If it works, it works. And it does!  Promise!  Jimmy really couldn’t be happier with this arrangement.

It’s only once they’ve settled in, after the first week, that he starts noticing… problems.

—

It’s Scar’s night with the bed.  Really, it was supposed to be Jimmy’s.  Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that Scar was an expert salesman, and had been swindled into giving it up for… twelve bamboo and a couple of cherry blossoms.  Utter junk.

So there he is, stewing a little bit as Scar settles into bed with what Jimmy thinks are obnoxiously contented sighs.  Lizzie’s already half asleep, curled up in the cherry blossoms, even though she’s supposed to be keeping watch.  

Just as he resigns himself to a chilly night, there’s a rustle behind him that’s not pink bedsheets or pink flowers.  No, instead it sounds like… feathers.  Jimmy narrows his eyes.

He shuffles around, making as little noise as possible.  And, yep, there’s Grian, wings tucked in close to his body, creeping towards the three of them.  What is he doing here?  He’s still dark green, there’s nothing he can do to any of them.  There’s no sword in his hand, or TNT, or–Jimmy squints–any creeper following him up the mountain.  It’s just… Grian.

And then there’s another rustle, and this time it really is from the bed.  Scar sits up, hair mussed and eyes bright even in the dark.  He’s staring right at Grian.

Jimmy doesn’t really know what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for Scar to lift a corner of the pink sheet in a silent invitation.  And he definitely doesn’t expect Grian to take him up on that offer, curling close to Scar in the bed with an ease that feels almost practiced.  Jimmy blinks a couple of times, as if he might be hallucinating.

No, Grian’s definitely still there, one wing spread over the bed like a downy blanket.  It’s… weird, yeah, definitely, but there’s also… not really anything wrong with it?  Obviously, if they were conspiring or something, that’d be a whole other thing.  But it really looks like they’re just sleeping.

Jimmy closes his eyes back to slits.  He’ll just… keep an eye on them.  Or something.  After all, this is probably a one time thing.

—

It was not a one time thing.

“That pillow smells like waffles,” Scar tells him confidentially, “I’d know it anywhere.”

“He’s sleeping here even when you’re not?” Jimmy blurts, before he remembers he’s not supposed to know anything about that.  That being the several nights Grian has wound up on top of the mountain, in the bed they share.  Only when Scar is there, of course.

Nevertheless, Scar seems to take it in stride.  “Well, you know how it is!”

No.  No, he definitely doesn’t.

Still, he doesn’t say anything when Grian creeps back into Scar’s bed that night, pretends he doesn’t hear them talking in hushed voices (though he certainly can’t make out what they’re saying).  He could only imagine what would happen if Lizzie found out.

Jimmy is woken up by her shriek.  He blinks, blearily, up at the moon, which is still very high in the sky, and mourns the rest of his sleep for a long moment.  Then he refocuses on the situation.

Grian is sitting bolt upright in the bed, wings flared out and eyes wide and shiny in the moonlight.  Scar has tumbled off, and is propped up on one elbow, also staring.

Lizzie stares back at them, mouth wide open.  She whirls on Jimmy.

“Did you know about this?”

He does the best to rub the sleep from his eyes.  “Know wh–”

“That he was sneaking,” Grian groans and faceplants into the pillow, “around here at night?  That he was–oh, I don’t know, stealing!  Or something!”

“I don’t think he’s stealing,” Scar says thoughtfully.  “I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed.”  Grian mumbles something into the pillow that Jimmy can’t make out.  Lizzie wheels back around to point a finger at Scar.

“You!  Don’t talk!  You’re fraternizing with the enemy!”

“...Is he the enemy?”  Jimmy wonders.  “We haven’t really had any problems with these guys yet.”

“Fra– fraber– fasternizing seems like a very strong word.”

“I didn’t ask you!”

“Lizzie,” he says.  “It’s late.  Like, really late.  Can we deal with this in the morning?”

“And let him stay?”

“C’mon, can’t a guy just sleep with his buddy?” Scar pipes up from the ground.  Jimmy and Lizzie wince simultaneously, and he’s pretty sure Grian does too, though his face is currently buried in the pillow.

She stands there for another couple of moments.  “Oh, fine, whatever.  Don’t come to me when he steals all your valuables!”  She storms off to the other side of the mountain, which… isn’t really that far away.

“...rude,” Grian says, muffled by the pillow.  Scar climbs back onto the bed.  Jimmy closes his eyes, even though he knows he won’t get another wink of sleep.

They never do deal with it in the morning.  Lizzie fumes for a couple of days, but even she gets used to it.

—

Jimmy had half-expected Lizzie’s discovery to stop Grian and Scar’s late-night sleepovers, or for them to at least be more subtle.  The problem is, Grian just keeps showing up.  It’s like he’s figured out their (nonexistent) schedule.  Jimmy has to deal with his smug face as he flops down onto the bed next to (or sometimes on top of) Scar, feathers draping over the edges of the flimsy frame.  It’s insufferable.  Half of him–the very yellow half–wants to kill him, just to make him go away.  It only gets worse.

And then he kills Grian.  And then Scar kills Grian.  And Jimmy can’t help but think oh, well, there’s the end of that as Grian explodes Scar’s reputation board along with the last scraps of his own reputation, wings bristling with undisguised rage.  As he tells his teammates that he and Scar are top of the list, that he’ll kill them and kill them ‘til they’re out of the game.

He’s wrong, because of course he is.  Because it’s Scar and Grian.

He’s trudging back up the mountain, body aching all over from new bruises and scrapes, but silently gloating in the amount of kills he’s managed to make this session alone.  And then he stops.  And stares.  And thinks, oh, come off it, really?

Grian’s in bed with Scar.  Yes, again, even though it’s Lizzie’s turn and he’s honestly starting to get annoyed for her.  She’s already standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“I know I’ve said it before, but he really is the enemy now,” she tells Scar as Jimmy approaches.

“I can hear you,” Grian says, miffed.  “Besides, you’re fine, Lizzie.  Or, well, you’re not, ‘cause you’re allied with them,” he sweeps an arm towards Jimmy, “but you’re fine.”

“Aw, he’s harmless.”  Scar loops his arms around Grian and squeezes a bit, which causes him to puff up remarkably like an angry cat.

“You’re dead,” he hisses, but Jimmy’s finding it very hard to be intimidated by him when he’s curled up in Scar’s arms, face half buried in his chest.

Lizzie looks towards him, a little helpless, but Jimmy doesn’t have a solution to this either, other than–

“Make another bed?” he tries.

Lizzie draws herself up.  “Absolutely not.”

Right, okay.

She clearly sees the skepticism in his face.  “It’s the principle of it, Jimmy!”

“The principle.  Not the fact he’s threatened to kill us, or that he blew up Scar’s reputation board–”  “Oh, I am still annoyed about that,” Scar remarks quietly, like he’s just remembering, “--or anything like that at all?”

Lizzie grumbles wordlessly.  Grian sprawls his wings farther across the bed (and Scar) as if he’s daring them to kick him out.

“Fine.”  Lizzie sounds like she’s trying not to kill Grian herself.  “Finefinefine.  But!” she points at Scar.  “It’s your funeral.  Except it won’t be!  Because we won’t hold one for you!”

Jimmy nods, because he’s not really sure what else to do.  Scar just smiles, and Grian just shrugs.

“I can arrange that funeral,” he says.

“Oh!  You would?”  Scar sounds positively delighted.

“No– not like that.  I mean I’m going to kill you.”  Grian tries to explain, but Scar just seems star-struck, eyes bright even in the darkness.

Lizzie rolls her eyes and stomps away.  Jimmy follows, casting a last glance at their one-sided argument.

No, definitely not a one time thing.

—

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Grian informs him, the first time it happens.  He’s huddled close into Scar’s side, gray wings tickling his shoulder.

“Oh, yep, totally,” he reassures him, but he must sound a little disbelieving, because Grian presses a finger hard into his shoulder.

“I mean it, Scar.  One time thing.  I just don’t have a bed of my own yet.”  Then why didn’t you go to Mumbo or Skizz? he wonders absently.  He doesn’t really care, at the end of the day.  Grian’s right here, after all, and Scar would be an idiot not to take advantage of that.

So he just smiles, and lets Grian get comfortable.

One time thing, indeed.

(And if he makes a point to steal all of the Spanners’ wool out of their chests the next day?  Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

[desertduality]

Trustfall

Ao3

Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3

Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.

He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.

The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.

He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.

Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.

Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.

A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.

Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.

Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.

"Stargazing?"

Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"

"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."

Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-

"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.

"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"

"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."

Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.

They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.

"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.

"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."

Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.

"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."

"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."

He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.

Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.

"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."

"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."

"They make medicine for that."

"Wh- Scar!"

Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...

"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."

"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."

"And me?"

"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."

Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.

Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.

"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"

Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.

"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."

Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.

Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.

I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.

"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"

"That's right."

They go back to bed.

[thepenandthepistol]

Fragile Machinery (Mumbo x reader)

This has been a long time coming. You've felt his death being sown through the land in every failed trap attempt and close call. With a single mistake, you are helpless in preventing it.

A/N: Honestly, did not know I had this fic in me. I was already kinda sad and pissed with some other stuff and watching Mumbo explode has made me a little sadder than it has the right to. Haven't watched everyone's pov so player positions are probably inaccurate. Reader and Mumbo aren't platonic or romantic in this, but are the secret third thing. Also reader is an avian. Again. (1270 words)

Art by @/YongyiMoon on Twitter and dividers by @saradika-graphics

You thought Mumbo was finally safe. For the last few weeks, you’ve followed him like a shadow, dark wings and hood obscuring your face like a damned shade. Most people haven’t chanced a hit at Mumbo, not after Jimmy’s stunt and your subsequent presence. Thankfully, that’s given you the chance to parse out the competition, the dark green names and their hideouts, your neighbors, above and below. From the distance, wild shades of pink fly in the air. Lizzie’s set of lives calls to you from your place atop the highest of Mumbo’s bridges.

You hear him sit beside you, but don’t manage a word; there’s a silent type of dread in the air, the type you’re afraid to speak into existence. He looks you over, and despite all the unease, the sweet smile on his face drips through the cracks of your tough facade. You recognize it now, the emotion. Terror.

“We need to get you another life.” The only thing you can get to leave your mouth is the obvious. You steady your trembling fingers at your side before encasing his hand. It’s gentle in a way you’re not experienced in being.

“We will. We’ve got my mace. From here on, it’s smooth sailing.” His eyes crinkle, and his goofy mustache draws upward from his smirk. 

“You can take one of mine.” The phrase leaves you before you can word it in a less desperate way. The warmth from Mumbo’s hand only partially eases the chilling anxiety that races through your veins. He looks at you and can only frown. “Get another kill with the mace, and you’ll be back to green. Besides, if anyone here should try their hand at fighting, I think I’m our best bet.” Silence follows.

“No. I- Genuinely, I don’t think I can do that.” He says it, laughing almost. Like the thought of sacrificing yourself for him is some unthinkable deed. 

“Alright... I’ll help you get your kill, then.” This is your promise, and it weighs so much heavier on his shoulders than it should. It’s new, this type of arrangement. He could only recall being taken seriously through faint memories of another life, even then surfacing only in death.

He rests his head against your shoulder, and you pretend not to cave into docility, your gaze still like a hawk’s, following the rats below.

The next day, preparations start early and eat into another evening. As the air cools with the sun’s descent through the horizon, you trail your friends from above. Grian talks casually with Etho and BigB, but he often glances up at Mumbo upon the wall, betraying his unease. No one suspects your dark form in the pitch black sky above until a trivia bot glides down and you dash behind the taller cobble pillar with Mumbo. 

“I can’t hit anyone from here.” He checks around the corner and down into the commotion. An idea strikes you and paints a mischievous grin on your face.

“I can help with that.” You suddenly yank him into the air from under his armpits and hover over the clearing. Mumbo goes limp in your hands but then tightens his grip on the mace once again. A green heart glints from a speck on the ground, and with a nod from Mumbo, you let go. 

A bone-breaking crunch reverberates as you hear your friend’s victory cries. You zoom out to join them through the castle’s front gates as the others yell out in shock. Mumbo runs for his life, but even in the chaos, you clearly see his heart stay the same forsaken yellow.

With a glance behind you, the terrible realization catches up. Gem’s body. You dropped him in the wrong spot.

The entire way home is spent in an even worse silence than before. Mumbo laughs it off, but your mind can picture it so clearly now. His own body, bloodied and cold. 

You begin fervently building the tower alongside Grian. Its threatening presence is a small reprise from the vulnerability of defeat. You run your fingers along the cool deepslate and look out onto the meeting room.

Skizz and Mumbo are messing with a trivia bot, pushing him around while he boops and bleeps. Scar makes his way down the mountain, obviously up to no good, and steals Skizz’s bot. He rows off the platform in his little wooden boat, and you scoff at the absurdity. Mumbo looks up at you, and it only takes a second to send you both into laughter. Skizz drops into the water below after Scar before Grian can yell out a coherent answer to his bot’s question.

You can’t really believe it when you feel levity in the air. The sun begins setting one last time, but you, Grian and Mumbo, move around the tower, now turned turret, and make shots at the people on the ground. It’s incredible how a killing machine can inspire such giddiness, but finally, there is hope. There’s more than hope. This thing is bound to kill someone at one point. Its range and the recklessness of the teams in traversing the mountain assure you that if not green, Mumbo will go back to a healthy yellow. 

Faraway cries draw your attention back downward as a massive group stands right in the traps danger zone. Your eyes shine with wonder as you turn back and face Mumbo. He takes a step back hesitantly, and Grian questions him without losing sight of Gem, ominously standing in the middle of a past crater.

“Jimmy’s there as well.” Shit. Restlessness returns to your stance as the perfect chances make their way up the cherry wood stairs and leave range one by one. 

Instinct drives you to fly into the air. Straight up into the cloudy, dark sky, leaving a gust of wind in your wake. Mumbo looks up at you with furrowed brows before you dive toward the crowd. Like a bullet, piercing the space between you both, your arms quickly wrap around Jimmy. The others present jump back in surprise as you take off just as quickly as you arrived. Eyes focusing on those pink braids, you brutally knock Jimmy’s flailing body into Lizzie. She stumbles into a puffer fish trap, giving you all the time you need to safely get Jimmy into the air, outside the blast radius.

The sun begins to rise behind the turret; time seems to slow. Grian woops and yells from the tower’s parapets. He eyes you with mirth in his pupils; they dilate as he places the explosive minecart, and Mumbo sends it chasing its own tail to power up. Lizzie has decided to go for the worst course of action and climb back down into the dead center of the craters from past failed attempts. 

Your wings are heavy as you fly overhead while Jimmy continues to struggle in your grasp. He doesn’t seem to have a sword, and the blunt cobble he uses to scratch your talons is only secondary to the relief of Mumbo’s eventual kill. 

He smiles, wider than you’ve ever seen him, and in a single distracted moment, Jimmy manages to land a hit to your wings. You yell, more from surprise than hurt, and catch a glimpse of Mumbo pulling out a bow and arrow, taking the stance to shoot, putting his foot back just barely on top of the powered track. 

Your yell is bloodcurdling. Mumbo hears the minecart stop at his side. Terror fills his eyes, and in the split moment he has, he reaches a desperate hand out toward you. 

[superblysubpar]

siiiiiiiigh, taylor. you're the only one i trust with this and i don't know if you take requests but i'm desperate (like the i'm in pain + aching kind of desperate) for wealthy!steve to take us out on his lil yacht and absolutely rail us off the coast of italy :(

the song: Pineapple Slice by Tove Lo & SG Lewis

warnings: secluded public spot / Sorry I've never been to Italy, my only experience are slutty Joe pics & The Lizzie McGuire movie 🤷‍♀️

He turns his black baseball hat around for better access to your body. His lips skim the seam of your suit, thick fingers messing with the ties on your hips. He squeezes the plump skin, dragging and scratching down your thighs as he pulls the bikini bottom from your body. Your back arches against the leather cushions of the boatseat, hips lifting for him. The sun is blinding white - high in the sky, and the drip of cool ocean water from his hair soothes the sweat coating your body.

You whisper the name of the man you've just met when his nose skims up the inside of your legs, nipping at your thighs as his large hands push them wider for better access.

"Come on honey, need to taste you." The endearment falls easily from his lips despite knowing each other less than 24 hours. This isn't what you thought would be the aftermath of your night out with friends.

Green flashes and purple shimmers as base radiated from your feet into your chest. Sweet drinks and stealing cherries from everyone as you danced and bounced in the Italian club to a song you didn't know. Hips swaying to a good beat and when you turned, you saw him. He's smug, a lopsided smile, a hand running through chestnut hair. A glint in his hazel eyes and the flashes of green overhead illuminate the silver chain, the ring on his middle finger and the watch on his wrist that all scream money. A flirty line about how dancing like you were was dangerous, an offer of buying you bubbly expensive things that taste sweet on your tongue, and hands on your hips as your chests pressed closer, moving to the music together until your lips collided. All ending in an offer of taking you out on his boat tomorrow, a secluded little spot off the coast.

And here you are.

Steve's thumbs spread your lips for him, and his tongue licks a broad stripe through you. Thighs squeezing around his ears, muffling the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks and the side of the boat. His mouth works lazily but precise as his hands roam under the curve of your ass. Pads of his fingers push into your skin, curvy and thick and he pulls you tighter around him, desperate for more. Tongue licking and swirling around your clit, mouth moving lower as he sucks one of your lips. A moan falls from your parched mouth and your toes curl as a rough wave rocks the boat, adding to the boil bubbling in your stomach.

He brings his attention back to the throbbing nerves, sucking around it and kitten licking with his tongue as a finger nudges at your entrance. One finger easily slips in, a second following and you clench around them as they curl. He finds the spot that has you lifting yourself off the seat. Your fingers tug in his wet locks, chest heaving as you look down at him. Sweat beads down the dip of your breasts as you plead his name, begging to release.

Steve removes himself, shaking his head no. His eyes are taken over by his black pupils, his dark chest hair curls with saltwater and sweat. He shoves the black wet fabric of his swimtrunks low enough to pull his throbbing length out. Your mouth waters at the sight of his muscles flexing as he tugs on himself, somehow getting harder and bigger. Lining the mushroom tip up with your entrance, Steve leans over you. He kisses your lips softly, tongue licking and tracing over your top lip until you sigh. The taste of yourself lingering, mixing with sweet fruit and salt from the ocean water that still clings to his tan and freckled skin.

Breath warm against your cheek as he whispers, "I need to be inside you when you cum, pretty girl."

You nod, desperate, your orgasm right on the cusp already and he lets his weight fall against you as he slides into your entrance in a quick and powerful thrust. Your cry against his lips has him squeezing at every ounce of your skin he can find. Lips drifting and pressing sweet kisses to your neck that contrast with the quick and sharp movements of his hips slapping against yours.

"Oh, fuck," your lashes are wet with tears at the ache in your gut, "Steve, I'm gonna cum!"

"Yeah?" He's breathless, groaning as your fingers scratch up his back.

The weight of his chest against yours is somehow comforting, and the pressure and graze of the thick hair at his base hitting the perfect spot that has you hanging on the edge of the cliff you've been climbing.

Steve's fingers rub messy circles into your puffy and needy clit, nerves vibrating beneath the pads of his fingers. He attaches his mouth to yours again as you take the jump, freefalling off the ledge until you hit the water. Walls tightening around him, body spasming beneath his. His release follows quickly, throbbing inside of you as he grips at your sides, squeezing and breathing your name into your parted lips.

He slows his thrusts, both of you gasping for air. Sounds of the waves return, the sun feels even warmer as the sweat falls off of both of your hot skin.

Steve reaches above your head, grabbing a piece of pineapple and holding it up to your mouth. You stare into each other's eyes, something in your gazes warming for each other as your breathless panting finds a rhythm together. Your lips wrap around the fruit, biting into the pineapple slice. Juice flows into your mouth, sweet and sticky and quenching a thirst you didn't know you had. Steve's thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tugging a little meanly until it pops back into place. He brings his thumb up to his lips and sucks the juice free from the skin.

The sun still has half the sky to conquer and you have no where to be other than on a boat off the coast of Italy with a rich boy who has an entire pineapple sliced and ready to feed you with.

---

----

-----

[autumnwhistles]

Last Life SMP – The Musical: Track 8 ('Debts')

Note: I don't have a completed track 2-7, but this one was faster to do as I only need to write the music, not record singing or write lyrics. Info about the musical in my pinned post!

This is a background track playing over a spoken conversation, so there are no voices or lyrics here. However, there is still a storyline, following the end of Martyn's ep 2 (Ren convo, though tweaked for conciseness).

0:00-0:33: c!Martyn is sitting by the Southlands, passing the time, thinking about the Southlands alliance especially as it's getting more unstable with him as the only dark green. The music at the start echoes Martyn's restlessness, and the melody at 0:17 (starts in violin, then moves around) is the melody of song 5, "A(ha)lliances", reflecting what he's thinking about.

0:34-1:22: He sees Ren setting his own tower on fire with him inside, and rushes there to put out the flames. The irregular rhythm of the claves echoes the crackling sound of a fire burning wood.

1:24-2:10: He and Ren manage to talk properly for the first time that season, just discussing everyday things, Martyn wanting to ask about an alliance with him. The music uses parts of the melody from song 2, "Corners of the World" (our introduction to Martyn wandering, and through that the wider server), though it spends more in the major key(s) and aims to create a feeling of safety/comfort.

2:11-2:33: Ren reveals that in return for the life Lizzie gave him, he's offered her his loyalty for the rest of the game. Martyn reveals he was going to ask about an alliance with him. The Watcher motif (four notes in the horn at 2:15, and in the oboe at 2:20) appears for the first time to symbolise both the fact the Watchers wish to push the Ren-Martyn alliance together, and also the loss of feeling of a safety net now that Ren's sworn his loyalty away for the whole game. The music also movies into a minor key to symbolise the latter.

2:33-2:45: They do agree this is still feasible, Martyn mentioning it'll be a good way out of the Southlands considering their unstable position (him, three yellows and a light green). Major chord when agreeing it's feasible, minor chord when Martyn talks about this being a way of abandoning the Southlands.

2:45-end: Martyn parts and wanders off, with Ren saying there's always a place for him [at his base]. From 2:50, the music takes inspiration from "Corners of the World" again, and the oboe's final notes are a statement of the melody of its chorus ("corner to corner/i'll keep wamdering on"), symbolising this. However, this melody is slightly tweaked and dissonant to show part of Martyn's mindset changing, which will be explored in the next song...

[blackdiamond1038]

Secret Life Secrets

Session 6

Green- Successful

Red- Failed

Scott: There is an assassination hit out on you from a non-red. If they do at least 10 hearts of damage to you (or through another’s actions) or you die, you fail. You have one shot to guess who it is and make them fail even if they already dealt the damage. (You must still get involved in conversations.)

Pearl: You are an imposter. You must approach any or multiple reds and secretly tell them this task. They can give you any task to damage a green player. If you successfully damage 3 different green names (for any amount) from their instructions, you pass. A yellow can call you out as a traitor at any stage. 

Gem: Nothing you say can be true for 30 minutes. If you tell the truth, you must start the timer again.

Jimmy: Task 1: Replace the water under the pink diving board with blue glass. You must not be caught. You succeed if they take damage from diving off. You fail if they find it or refuse to jump. Task 2: Punch another player into lava. It can be lava you have placed. [Died before succeeding or failing]

Mumbo: You are Grian’s terrible butler. You must do anything they say, but always get some aspect of it wrong. You can tell them you are their butler, but no one else. Task 1 [as a red]: Cause any amount of damage to a non-red using an anvil. Task 2: Build a TNT cannon and successfully hit a base from at least 50 blocks. Task 3: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage. [Died before succeeding or failing]

Grian: You declared yourself incorrectly successful last session. You must re-roll for harder task. [Re-roll for harder task] Etho is going to get a warden to the surface. You must get a wither. Make them do battle. You can work together to make this battle happen. The fight must take place in a central location.

Etho: You ended up with Pearl’s book at the end of last session. You must re-roll for harder task as punishment. [Re-roll for harder task] Grian is going to get a wither. You must get a warden to the surface. Make them do battle. You can work together to make this battle happen. The fight must take place in a central location. Deep dark can be found at -671 -30 1875.

Lizzie: Task 1: Use redstone to damage a non-red player. You cannot hit them with the item, it must be a machine or trap of some kind. Task 2: Summon a mod using an egg to deal any damage to a green. [Succeeded, but died before pressing the button]

Impulse: You are in a game of chicken with Scar and Bdubs. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Bdubs: You are in a game of chicken with Scar and Impulse. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Scar: You are in a game of chicken with Bdubs and Impulse. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Skizz: You are now the therapist of the server. For the rest of the session, you must guide and give other players advice in a professional manner. The advice does not need to be good advice. You must help players to acknowledge and negative feelings. You cannot directly solve their problems, you are there only for emotional support. You fail if called out by a yellow. You can pass early if you give therapeutic advice to every other player at least once. You can only help someone if they appear down or frustrated. 

Joel: You are Scott’s assassin. You must deal a minimum of 10 hearts of damage to them to succeed. You can use other people or any means you please. But if you are called out by them as the assassin, you fail, even if you already dealt the damage. They only have one guess.

Martyn: Task 1: Hit a green name with a sword until they block you with a shield. If you kill them, you also succeed. Task 2: Cause any amount of damage to a non-red using an anvil. Task 3: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage. Task 4: Summon a mod using an egg to deal any damage to a green. [Unfinished this session]

BigB: Everytime someone takes damage, tell them much too late how it could have been avoided. If you see them about to take damage, you must also warn them too late.

Tango [Ren]: You have an imaginary friend who is exactly like Tango. Talk to Tango as if they follow you around the whole session and are part of conversations. You must interact with other players. 

Cleo: Everyone else knows what your task is. Figure it out and do it. They can’t tell you what it is but they can say warmer and colder when you attempt something. A yellow cannot call out this task as everyone already knows what it is. You cannot ask, you must attempt to do it. [At the end of all non-red player’s tasks, the rules for Cleo’s task were explained. This is what it was: Cleo’s task is: “Stand in a circle of different kinds of flowers and spin” You can’t tell her what it is, but you can say warmer and colder as she tries to figure it out. You can tell her when she’s done it. The rest of the server knows her task, she does not. She has to figure it out.]

This session was absolutely insane.

Lemme know if I missed something!

[kaihuntrr]

part one: when the sun was eclipsed.

Grian remembers of a time when Jimmy was still around. And what happened to him.

Another day, another perfect time to set sail.

Another chance to strike at the beasts that terrorized the people.

Grian stood proudly at the bow, facing the large iron gate in the distance. He saw the large shadow cast by the stone walls, its darkness providing a sense of safety to the town’s citizens with  a glint of the canons that adorned the top. It was a ready defense from any invading monsters, though they never dared to swim close to the islands. Maybe those monsters had some intelligence after all if they knew to stay away from the kingdom. They were protected by the king, the navy, and the hunters, each one ensuring humanity could live and thrive within the walls. It was good. It was perfect. 

It was home. 

It was going to be another exciting day. The crew planned to sail off into the sea, to find some beasts to kill, and to return to the love and warmth of the people and recover. Prepare, leave, kill, return, rest, then repeat. The simple, monotonous life of a hunter was easier said than done. A lot of hunters risked their lives every day to keep the people safe and sound. It was one of the most noble deeds a person could do in their life- it was even more noble to be acknowledged by the king himself. 

One day, this crew was going to earn the king’s approval. They had already slain small packs of those disgusting monsters, an impressive feat compared to the one or two beasts other crews their age had taken down. It was only a matter of time before the king addressed him, his brothers, and their crew. Then, they’d be hunters for the king– better than all the rest! It was going to be one of the best days of their lives, he just knew it. 

After all, he was the cunning Grian Solidarity. He was the youngest of his family and had the biggest hunger to prove himself on the wild seas. He and his brothers had made this crew not too long ago, and with how much money they’d been raking in, they just had to be the best out of all the people their age! The amount of people who had looked down on them for just being green, overeager upcomers wasn’t surprising, but Grian could bet those people were eating their own insults now. They just had to be!

Grian rested his hands on the railing, breathing in the fresh air, and hummed in delight. The ship was prepared to set sail and the others would likely return before the gates were scheduled to open. He’d done his part- checking on the weapons and restocking the ship with ammo was pretty easy when he was with Mumbo and Scar- so he had the luxury of sitting back, relaxing while waiting for the others to get on board–

“Grian?” He jumped at the sound of his name. He turned around to see Joel looking around, worried. “Have you seen Jimmy? I haven’t seen him anywhere.” Grian frowned, suddenly concerned.

Jimmy had been acting weird lately. Not only had he gotten that flower tattoo out of nowhere, but he’d been acting a lot more aloof on their hunting trips too. He’d been acting like that for a couple of months at least. He had been pretty scared of the ocean before, when they were younger, but a little exposure therapy didn’t hurt and he’d been fine. It also wasn’t the first time that he had wandered around like this- but he usually came back well before the ship would set sail.

Grian hummed, trying to recall if he had seen his brother in the past few… hours, probably. He ran through where he’d last seen the other members of their crew. He’d seen Cleo hanging around with Mumbo, Scar and Bdubs were doing something together, and Lizzie was out in the port talking to Martyn before he was due to set off with the Kestrels. Grian remembered catching Joel glancing at Lizzie a dozen times earlier, silently wishing she could join them on their hunts. “...No, I haven’t,” he finally said, putting a hand on his chin. “Any idea where he’d be?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you in the first place…,” Joel grumbled. “He’s probably in the harbor somewhere, let’s go look for him.”

“But I just got comfortable…,” Grian jokingly complained. One sour look from Joel made him roll his eyes and relent. Jimmy knew this town like the back of his hand, just like the rest of them. He wasn’t lost, Grian was sure of it. “Fine. But Tim’s probably just wandering around again. You know how he is.” He shrugged. Joel made a small frown and sighed, but followed Grian as the two descended from the ship and into the hustle and bustle of the port town behind them.

—————

So maybe Jimmy had gotten lost somewhere in town.

How was Grian supposed to know that?

Even so, he probably wouldn’t be too hard to find. It wasn’t like the town was… big.

Grian and Joel scoured the marketplace, one of the busier sides of town, in hopes they’d run into Jimmy there. It wasn’t an unusual spot for them to frequent, considering all the supplies and ammo they had to restock themselves with every time they came back to port, so Grian was sure that Jimmy would be around here. Maybe he was buying something for the crew? That would be really nice of him.

Grian looked around the marketplace, seeing a variety of townsfolk going about their day, pointing at imported fabrics, trying out newly minted tools, and smelling the fresh food from different restaurants and stalls. He could hear everything, from barters between villagers to the giggles of children to older men bickering with each other about their wives. The place was alive; it felt so amazing to get lost in the crowd, but there wasn’t any trace of his brother. 

He looked at Joel and gestured to the crowd and nodded. Joel nodded back, understanding the thought Grian had in mind. It was best to split up.

Grian slipped away into the crowd of people and cupped his mouth. “Tim!” he shouted, looking around. “Come on Tim- we have to leave soon!”

“Jim, this isn’t funny!” Joel called out from somewhere behind him. “Where are you?”

The brothers sifted through the crowd, looking around for any sign that their brother might’ve been around. It shouldn’t have been too hard– he’d gotten himself lost before, and Grian and Joel were always able to find him. The only annoying bit was how often Jimmy got lost. They had been in and around this town for more than a year! He should know his way around at least!

“There he is!” Joel called out, pointing up the street to one of the narrow streets to where Jimmy had just exited from. Jimmy looked around for a moment, apparently not seeing them, then exhaled what seemed to be a sigh of relief as he shook his head. He turned and started walking in the direction of the ship. 

Grian and Joel pushed through the crowd, calling out for their brother as he still seemed to not notice them, even as they grew closer. Grian was sure he was shouting- why hadn’t Jimmy noticed yet?

“Tim! Tim!” Grian called out for what felt like the hundredth time, the sound finally registered. Jimmy turned around and looked at his brothers with wide eyes, allowing them to catch up to him. Grian crossed his arms as he stood in front of him, “Where were you?”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his head and forced an awkward smile. “Nowhere important, just had to check up on something.” His eyes darted around, looking at anything but Grian and Joel. “Sorry if I scared you a bit, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’ve been looking for you for the past thirty minutes,” Joel groaned, “And this isn’t the first time you’ve vanished right before launch. There has to be some reason you’ve been wandering off.”

Jimmy frowned and looked down at the ground, as if unsure of himself. There had to be some type of problem making him act the way he was. Why couldn’t he just tell them…? They were brothers and there were no secrets between them. What could possibly be so serious and so secret-?

“Like I said, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” Jimmy insisted, his voice more stern. It sounded almost like he was on edge. Then he paused, slightly shaking his head. “We’re leaving soon right? I’m not late, so it’s fine.”

Joel looked unhappy about that answer, crossing his arms. “That’s the plan.” He looked briefly up at the sky then back down to Jimmy. “I think everyone else is back on board, we should get moving.” He looked over the other ships as other hunters prepared for their own voyages, still frowning.

“Definitely,” Jimmy agreed. He looked back and forth from the ships to his brothers, a smirk forming on his face. That look of mischievousness tended to show up when he’d thought of something stupid. “How about we race to the ship?”

Grian shot a glance at Joel, an unspoken scheme passing between them, then he looked back to Jimmy. “So long as you don’t trip over a bunch of swords and impale yourself….” Grian shrugged nonchalantly, earning a small snicker from Joel and a bright blush of embarrassment on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- I’m not that clumsy!” Jimmy sputtered, his shoulders rising as he started shaking his head adamantly.

Yeah right, Grian almost said, but he kept it to himself.

Joel grinned, “Sure you are! Out of all of us, you’re gonna be the one to die first, probably doing something stupid,” he pushed Jimmy aside, breaking into a run as Grian followed right behind him. 

“And you’re slow too!” Grian called out, glancing behind him momentarily to see the stunned look on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- no countdown?! You’re supposed to do a countdown!” Jimmy shouted as he scrambled after them, “Oh you’re gonna get it! Cheaters!”

Grian and Joel laughed as Jimmy attempted to catch up, chasing after them like they had chased each other as kids. Their hearty laughter filled the air, breaking whatever tension there had been between them. Nothing but bright smiles and exhausted breaths hung between them as they boarded the ship, teasing and prodding each other all the way up the gangplank, sharing childish grins and teasing until it was finally time for those iron gates to open once more.

—————

The sea had a calmness to it.

A still, uneasy calmness that Grian couldn’t quite describe.

He could remember the stories hunters would tell each other; how the apparent silence meant an easy voyage for sailors, but the moment that hunters let their guard down a swarm of beasts would descend upon the ship. That was how arrogant hunters met their doom, because they’d doubted their enemy. A good hunter would never let their guard down, would train to keep their skills sharp, and would never doubt their enemy’s power. 

Grian stood in the crow’s nest, using a telescope to search the ocean for any sign of monsters. He didn’t see much, just a quiet, endless ocean. The one thing he was slightly unnerved with was the lack of birds perched on the ship, there weren’t even any in the skies. Though… maybe that was a good thing? He wasn’t too sure.

It must be nice, being able to fly wherever you want.

Their crew was far from the Crown Isles. It had been two and a half days of straight voyaging, and Grian had begun to get quite bored. It was all the same monotonous routine without a monster to fight. There wasn’t that much to do on a ship except sleep, read, or play games. Things would just get interesting later, but ‘later’ was so far away….

He could hear faded conversations from his friends down below and the distant rumble of the engine. Sighing to himself and deciding that the coast was clear, Grian shut his telescope and tucked it away in his bag. He made his way down the wooden ladder, feeling the nice breeze on his skin and breathed it in.

“See anything from up there?” Joel called out from the steering wheel. 

Grian shook his head. “Nothing, so we can relax for a little while longer,” he shrugged, looking up at Joel. “It’s a nice break.”

“It sure is!” Joel replied.

Grian looked across the deck to see Jimmy and Scar having a pleasant conversation. Grian felt his heart swell at the sight of Scar’s goofy grin. He was such a lovable idiot. He felt his heart skip as the two locked eyes and Scar waved him over.

“Heya, captain!” Scar swung his arm around Grian the moment he arrived, “What’d you see up there?”

“I haven’t seen anything, so no worries there.” Grian pushed Scar’s arm away and shook his head. “What were you two talking about?”

Jimmy widened his eyes and shot a glance at Scar. Scar didn’t notice as he immediately responded, “Oh! Jimmy here was talking about this gift he’d give you-.” Jimmy immediately swatted his arm, then looked away in embarrassment. Scar paused, then slowly turned to Jimmy, “...Was I not supposed to say that?”

“Scar!” Jimmy groaned, his cheeks getting redder and redder as he covered his face with his hands with a groan. “Go get Joel, now that you’ve ruined it…!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Scar laughed, walking away. “But I still think that idea of yours is really cute!”

Grian’s gaze followed Scar for a short while as he walked up the deck, then he blinked and looked back at Jimmy. “Gift…?” He raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at Jimmy’s hands, now firmly stuffed into his pockets.

“I- I thought you two might like something since I’ve been off doing… other stuff lately,” Jimmy raised his shoulders, his voice growing softer. “I got a gift, something for all three of us.”

Jimmy flinched as he heard Joel’s hearty laugh. “Jim got a present for his little brothers?” Joel grinned mockingly. “I was wondering when you’d stop slacking off and fulfill your duty as the oldest to spoil your little brothers!”

Jimmy’s expression soured. “Wh-! Well if you have that attitude with me, I’m not giving it to you!” He huffed, but Grian could see the facsimile of the stern look on Jimmy’s face. Grian raised his eyebrows and shook his head as Joel rolled his eyes.

“Aw, Jiiim…!” Joel cooed, tilting his head, trying to get Jimmy to look at him with his sweet-little-brother puppy-dog eyes. They usually worked. “Come on, please?” Jimmy’s expression soured further but it only gave Joel an evil glint in his eyes. “Don’t make me do it.” Silence. Joel rolled his eyes and nudged Grian, both of them snickering as Joel took in a deep breath.

Then, he did what he’d always done since they were kids: being lovingly annoying to their eldest brother.

“Please please please please-.”

One of Jimmy’s eyes twitched as he shot a deathly glare at Joel. “Joel, quit it!”

“You forced me,” Joel said defensively, shrugging almost helplessly with a smug look on his face. In a blink, he was back to puppy-dog eyes. “Jiiiiimmm…!”

Jimmy sighed, relenting as he relaxed his shoulders. “Sometimes I wish I could stay mad at both of you forever,” he tilted his head in exasperation. “I got these.”

Jimmy pulled out two small things from his pocket. 

Lockets.

They were small and oblong, silver teardrops carved with their initials on one side and a long feather on the back. They hung from silver chains with delicate little clasps. Jimmy gave them the locket with their respective initials. Grian stared at it with wide starry eyes. He opened the locket and gasped.

“Th- these are….”

“Remember the photo we took on the day we got this ship?” Jimmy asked fondly. “I was able to make some copies- and I got them in a nice locket for all of us!” 

The locket’s picture was of the three of them standing together with their ship behind them, all nice and new. Grian remembered that day fondly- all the emotions they’d had when finishing their training to be hunters, the well wishes of their parents and support of their friends, and finally seeing the ship they’d call their own.

It was all so… perfect. 

“Do you like it…?”

“It’s… it’s wonderful, Tim,” Grian was speechless, shifting his hand around to examine the locket from all sides. “I love it.”

“Yeah… these are great gifts, Jim,” Joel nodded, unclasping his locket to put it around his neck. “They’re the perfect good luck charms.”

“You think so?” Jimmy smiled as Grian and Joel nodded in agreement. “Oh that’s great, there’s a little something special in them, too.”

“It’s pretty special as is, Jim,” Joel kept his eyes on the locket, looking at it from every angle with adoration, “what’s there to top?”

“It’s a surprise, so you’ll figure it out.”

“Have it your way, Tim.” Grian stuck his tongue out as he slipped his locket on. Though, he did appreciate a good mystery, so cracking the surprise was definitely going to be a fun pastime of his. “Anyway, since there aren’t any monsters around, how about we share a toast?” He clapped his hands together and looked at his brothers eagerly.

“Are you sure about that?” Joel asked, wariness rang in his voice. “We’re out at sea, G, you wouldn’t want–!”

“It’s alright, we’ll be fine!” Grian waved his hand in dismissal. “We haven’t seen a beast for days! Just a drink or two won’t be too much of a hassle. Martyn isn’t here so we don’t have a problem with drunks or lightweights!” 

“You make a good point…,” Joel muttered, relenting a little. Jimmy glanced at him and shook his head, but Joel shrugged. “Fine. Just a drink or two.”

Grian nodded and put a hand to his chest. “Just one or two, promise.”

The crew did have a few barrels of liquor stashed away, and it would be a waste to keep those down there forever. The three of them got to work bringing some of the barrels up, and with some coaxing, the rest of the crew got together to share a few drinks. It’d help with the boredom, but it was also to take some of their edges off, as there were tales of hunters being overly paranoid and turning on each other while out to sea… those were definitely some odd stories.

Grian sipped some of the ale in his mug, swirling the burning liquid as he looked on at his crew. Scar, Joel and Cleo were passing jokes around, Mumbo was explaining something to Bdubs, who didn’t look like he was retaining any of it, and Jimmy was… well, he was by himself, standing at the railing and staring off into the water.

“Hey.” Jimmy flinched at Grian’s voice as he approached. Grian gave his brother a smile, but his eyes widened when he saw Jimmy… dumping his drink over the side of the ship? “Uh- are you good, Tim?”

Jimmy blinked. “Wh- oh! Whoops,” he grinned sheepishly as he quickly reoriented his cup and frowned at the alcohol remaining. “Guess my head’s starting to buzz now, huh?” 

“What’re you doing over here, instead of over there with everybody else?” Grian tilted his head towards the rest of their crew. They looked happy, all together like that. They were having fun. “Unless you want to be alone for a little while…?”

“I don’t mind the company–,” Jimmy said quickly, looking at the sea. “It’s… it’s nice that everyone’s enjoying themselves.” He almost looked withdrawn, like the alcohol was making him more sad than happy. Grian frowned. Jimmy was usually a loud, boisterous drunk, teetering on being overly friendly– not this.

“Yeah, but you should be enjoying yourself too,” Grian nudged Jimmy’s shoulder. 

“Grian…, I know you want me to have fun but…,” Jimmy sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for everyone to get drunk. Someone should keep watch, keep the ship from getting into any trouble….” He trailed off, but Grian could see his eyes shift to Bdubs as his voice lowered.

Grian took a quick glance at Bdubs, seeing how happy the man was with the rest of the crew. It was hard to imagine such a bubbly man starting his hunting career off with a death.

The Storm Chaser had been a fine ship, boasting a streak of thirteen beasts slain each month, and one of their members was Bdubs’ brother, Pungence. With its iron and brass covered hull and naval blue and blood red sails, it was easy to spot the ship out in the waters.

Which made the discovery of its wreckage all the more horrifying. 

It was said that the crew was arrogant enough to let their guards down, only for a beast to come and tear their ship apart. Grian remembered Bdubs adamantly pushing against the story and blamed it on something else- like faulty machinery or an ambush, though he couldn’t remember much from before he’d been found floating amongst the wreckage. Grian wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Grian shook his head. “We won’t get into any trouble today, Tim, we’ll be okay,” he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and smiled warmly. Jimmy was still a little antsy, but a good drink could loosen him up enough to let go of his worries. “So come on! Let’s go join them!” He caught Jimmy by the elbow, pulling him across the deck to where the others were. 

He tried not to pay too much attention to how Jimmy flinched when he’d grabbed his arm.

“Grian, I-....” Jimmy stopped after just a few steps. Grian furrowed his eyebrows as Jimmy’s eyes widened and looked around, like he was expecting to see something, only for him to shake his head and smile when there was nothing there. Grian wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not. He was really regretting the buzz in the back of his skull. It made it hard to think, hard to read Jimmy as he said, “...Sure. Let’s go see them.”

Grian took a few steps forward, but started walking quicker as he saw the smiling faces of his friends, his crew. He practically dragged Jimmy all the way to the others. It didn’t seem to bother Jimmy too much, at least Grian didn’t think so. “Hey! Guess who made it?” Grian chuckled mischievously as Jimmy rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Jimothy!” Bdubs giggled as they walked up, finally blinking out of his blank stare to wave wildly at them. “There you are!” He slung his arm around Jimmy, the sudden motion startling the man. Bdubs’ grin only grew wider. “Aw come on! Don’t be so jumpy!” 

“Are you sure they’re not drunk?” Jimmy whispered to Grian as he glanced at the others, but his voice was still loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear.

“What? We’re fine,” Bdubs shook his head, dismissing the notion. “Just wanted to mess with you, captain. What’s with the drinks all of a sudden?”

“Can’t we just have a drink every once in a while?” Grian chuckled bashfully. He took a sip from his own mug. “I don’t want you all going insane.”

“Can’t go insane when we’re all messing with Jim! You’re heaps of entertainment!” Joel laughed as he wrapped his arm around Jimmy’s neck, pulling him down with such force that it sloshed the few remaining drops of his drink down Jimmy’s shirt. Joel paused, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at his brother, slowly taking in the solemn, almost distant look on Jimmy’s face. “Why do you look so upset?”

“I-... it’s nothing. It’s hard to talk about, that’s all.” Jimmy looked away. “But don’t worry about me!” He raised his hands, forcing a laugh, “Let’s just finish the rest of the drinks.”

“We’ll stop worrying when you stop being so sad,” Cleo mumbled amusingly, not a trace of malice in their voice as they took a swig of their mug. Grian wasn’t sure how many times she’d drank out of it, but he didn’t remember seeing her refill it at all. “But whatever you say, captain.”

Grian downed the rest of his drink, savoring the burning feeling. It was always fun to drink with friends, much more so when they were all having a good time. Grian easily let the world slip out of focus with his friends- his family right in front of him, so he didn’t notice the weather turning. 

He didn’t notice the dark clouds covering the sky. He didn’t notice when the chill breeze of the ocean turned freezing on his skin. And he didn’t notice how much the waves had begun to sway the ship from side to side with how much he was swaying on his own. He couldn’t focus on much with his buzzing head, even if–

“GUYS!” Scar’s sudden shout alerted the entire crew. “It’s a storm! Watch out for beasts!”

That wasn’t good.

“Get to your positions, quickly!” Grian shouted. “A storm could spell trouble!”

The crew immediately flew to their positions. Scar climbed up to the crow’s nest as fast as he could, Cleo ran towards one of the cannons with Joel beside her on the left, Jimmy and Mumbo ran to the right to hold their cannons, and Grian picked up a harpoon and dashed to the bow of the ship.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the waves began to crash against the hull of the ship. Storms were fine. They’ve weathered some nasty storms in the past, and this one was just the same as the others–!

Then Grian heard something.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

What was that sound? A heartbeat-? His-? Then why did it sound like it was coming from the water? 

Then the ship suddenly began to tilt sideways, the deck slanting under their feet.

“H-Hold on tight!” Grian grabbed the closest railing and held on for dear life as the ship continued to tilt. He was closest to Jimmy and Mumbo, the three of them clinging to the railing. Grian shook his head, squinting at the water as he attempted to get a look at the monster.

He couldn’t see any sign of the beast, not its jaws or body. The whole sea around them had turned dark from the storm, too dark for the creature’s silhouette to be visible under the surface.

Rain fell out of the sky and crashed on the deck, pelting the surrounding seas in a blurry mess as Grian struggled to see. The odd, rhythmic tha-thumps drummed in Grian’s ears, the only thing he could hear over the howling wind and the booming thunder. Wind whipped around, further obscuring Grian’s vision.

Then Grian’s whole body froze as a bone-chilling trill reverberated through the depths, making his teeth rattle in his skull. 

The sound reverberated through the chaos of the sea, rumbling the wood and steel of the ship, and down to Grian’s very soul. That sound… it didn’t sound like anything like the beasts he took down in the past. The hand gripping the harpoon trembled as he tried to look for the beast in the water.

The ship continued to tilt. 

“Why aren’t any of you firing?!” Joel snapped, his voice barely audible above the sounds of the sky and sea. 

“There isn’t anything to shoot!” Grian shouted back, lifting his harpoon high for the chance of this beast to reveal itself. Nothing- nothing at all. Grian’s heartbeat quickened, searching desperately for a shadow in the water. A beast couldn’t hide itself as it was attempting to flip over an entire ship…! It needed to have a shadow! There had to be some kind of shadow! His eyes turned further out, where the water turned lighter very suddenly, almost in a defined line…. 

What if-.... That couldn’t be possible, could it? “U- unless….”

Unless the dark sea surrounding the ship was all a part of the monster’s large shadow.

Grian heaved his arm forward and threw the harpoon into the water, using all of his strength to plunge the blade as deep into the water as he could manage.

The ship suddenly jerked sideways as a loud, earth-shaking growl rumbled through the waters.

Grian lost his grip on the railing, his foot slipping out from under him on the slick deck. He pitched backwards, but the deck fell away under him as the whole ship turned sideways. He felt himself bounce across the deck, scraping the back of his arms and shoulders as he flipped over. One of his hands somehow managed to grab onto a rope, bringing him to a sharp, sudden stop that wrenched his shoulder. Grian heard himself let out a cry of pain that he didn't fully realize he'd made. He looked up, blinking water out of his eyes just in time to watch a shape fall past him-

Jimmy.

Grian let go of the rope and kicked off the sideways deck before he even realized he was moving, just barely clearing the railing as the ship rocked back the other way to right itself.

He plunged into the icy water, already reaching for his brother.

Grian’s body froze as the icy water closed over his head, shock startling his nerves. He pushed through, kicking towards the surface. His head burst out of the water, salt stinging his eyes as he turned his head frantically to look for Jimmy. He couldn’t be too far- maybe he was in shock, maybe so much so that he couldn’t move! Grian turned his head more frantically. He needed to get to him, he needed to find him!

He spotted Jimmy farther out, treading water. The ship must’ve launched him far. With a fire in his heart, Grian began to push through the waves, swimming closer and closer to his brother, every breath fueling him forward. “Tim! Tim!”

“Grian?!” Jimmy turned around. His eyes widened in shock and he glanced from the water around him then back to Grian. He held his hand up. “Grian wait-!”

“Jimmy!” Grian called out, “I’m coming to you! Just hold on!”

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

The beast was nearby, probably circling around them. They would be fine- they had to be fine. Grian still had his guns and Jimmy had his dagger. Whatever beast it was could live another day, he didn’t care if it got away! Grian was only focused on getting to Jimmy and getting them both back on the ship.

But Jimmy was shaking his head as Grian continued to swim up to him. In fact- he seemed to be moving further away…!

Jimmy’s face twisted into something painful and almost apologetic. “Grian, I’m sor–!”

A large red fin flashed out of the water and-... Jimmy was gone.

Grian stared at the place where Jimmy had been. 

He could hear his friends’ shouts, muffled and distant to his ears. His stare was hollow and empty as the rhythmic noise slowly faded into nothingness. The monster was gone, and it had taken Jimmy with it.

Grian’s whole world had shattered in a heartbeat.

He didn’t hear himself scream, agony ripping out of his chest. He didn’t stop until his throat gave out.

—————

It had been at least two days since the hunters escaped from Crescent Bay.

Grian was sitting behind the large desk of the captain’s quarters, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. He was still shaken from the events at Crescent Bay, and judging by the general silence of the ship, everyone else was too, stuck processing it all like a bad nightmare that wouldn’t go away no matter how high the sun rose. 

What bothered Grian the most were that sea prince’s eyes. They were the same ones Martyn scribbled on his sketchbook, before he’d disappeared. The encounter played in his head over and over. The bellowing thunder, the flashing lightning, the echoing heartbeat–

Grian paused.

…Echoing heartbeat?

Something- some thought or distant memory was tugging on his brain. Grian sat forward, rubbing his forehead in thought. The familiar yet unfamiliar sound of a loud heartbeat drummed in his mind as he wracked his brain. He remembered that he’d heard that sound before, but the part that was bothering him was where. He drew his eyebrows together, holding both sides of his face as he sunk back into his chair.

He remembered hearing that heartbeat when he and Cleo were in the cave.

He remembered faintly hearing it faintly just before Martyn went under with that scuttler.

…He remembered hearing the noise just before Jimmy died.

Tha-thump.

Grian slowly sat up.

…There was no way….

Tha-thump.

…It couldn’t have been his imagination, could it…?

Tha-thump.

So the beast that killed Jimmy was…!

“Grian, I’m sor–!”

Grian laid his head on his desk. The echo of his memory screamed in agony. He tried not to echo it as salt stung his eyes. His throat felt torn.

A sea prince.

A sea prince killed his brother.

Grian cradled the locket he had worn buried in his shirt for so long, the last thing Jimmy ever gave him.

As soon as they caught that sea prince, he’d rip its heart out.

[mcytadventevent]

justabookworm39 is creating for Day Seven:

Prompt: Gift Exchange

Her piece is written, featuring Lizzie, Scar, and Jimmy!

Credit Links:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm39

(Piece under the cut!)

Lizzie beamed as she opened the front door. “Hi, Scar!”

“Well, hello there!” Scar stepped inside, resting his cane against the wall so he could close his umbrella. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow yet, so it was just a chilly, soggy rain. Not great to drive in. But a good excuse to stay inside.

Lizzie had a paint-stained blue jacket on, half-zipped, and a pair of ripped jeans. Scar recognized them as the ones she’d tore while crawling behind the bird cages at work. Evidently she didn’t care about getting them any messier.

“We’ve got everything almost set up.” Lizzie led Scar through her apartment. “Jimmy’s already looking through the ornaments, so you might wanna hurry before he picks the best ones.”

“Help?”

Both stopped in the doorway to the living room. Scar had to stifle a laugh.

Jimmy was sitting on the floor, hands and sweatshirt covered in dark green paint and a pitiful look on his face. The offending bottle was sitting on top of a loose piece of notepaper, paint still dripping down the sides.

“Jimmy–” Lizzie started. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “It’s okay. Scar, can you pass him the paper towels? Do you have a shirt on underneath?”

Jimmy nodded. He waited for Scar to hand him the paper towel roll, wiping his hands before he peeled his sweatshirt off. Lizzie took the paint-stained bundle–with a few more fingerprints from what was left on his hands–and hurried off to the washing machine.

“Bad start,” Jimmy muttered.

“D’aw, don’t worry.” Scar patted Jimmy on the back as he sat down. “It’s not the dumbest thing I’ve seen. Why, I once had to help Lizzie rinse glitter out of her eye.”

“I heard that!”

Scar snickered to himself, and Jimmy grinned.

“Now,” Scar continued. His voice dropped, and he whispered, “I know you weren’t just looking for a present for Grian the other day.”

The tiny wings framing Jimmy’s face fluttered nervously. “What do you mean?”

“You wanted to get Lizzie something, didn’t you?”

Jimmy froze for a moment, eyes wide. Then he leaned in and hissed, “Don’t tell her, alright?!”

“Alright, alright, don’t worry.” Scar tilted his head. “Though I think it’s gonna be a little hard with her sitting here.”

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll figure it out.” Jimmy waved his hand dismissively.

“Any ideas?”

“No.” Jimmy sounded in pain as he grabbed the cardboard box sitting across from them. “There’s too many options! And I’ve never done this before, and I want to get it right!”

Tipping the box, Scar saw the haul of do-it-yourself Christmas ornaments. Lizzie was the sort to hoard holiday crafts and decor as they went out-of-season and dropped in price. She still had a massive tote bag of tiny foam pumpkins she’d bought three years ago. So when he’d bumped into the two at the craft store, trying to find something Jimmy could buy or make for his older brother, Scar had asked if Lizzie still had any Christmas stuff.

She most certainly did. There were several different shapes, sizes, and materials–wood, ceramic, paper mache; some were flat, and others were three-dimensional shapes; they ranged from simple circles to full silhouetted scenes…

Yeah. Scar understood the overwhelm. Especially for someone who’d just now heard of Christmas. Thank the stars she hadn’t picked up anything new.

Lizzie reentered the room, dusting her hands off. “Alright, gave that a quick soak to get the paint loose, and it should all wash out!”

Jimmy was still staring down the box of ornaments. Lizzie hummed with concern. “Tell you what: there’s a buncha wooden snowflakes in there. I was thinking about using them to spruce up Critter City for the holidays, if you want to start by decorating those? Just as a warm-up?”

“Really?” Jimmy looked up. “I mean– y’know, I don’t wanna take your whole stash, but…” He trailed off, while Lizzie plopped down on the floor next to him.

“It’s not a big deal! I might never have gotten around to painting all of ‘em myself anyways.” Lizzie dug through the box, eventually retrieving a plastic pack with a dozen ornaments. There was no hole to thread a hanger through, but a bundle of silver cord was included in the package.

“Alright then!” Jimmy took the package from Lizzie, while Lizzie laid out a few paper plates as rests and palettes.

“I’ve got a ton of different paints here,” Lizzie explained. “Plus I’ve got a few funky top-coats?”

“Like what?” Jimmy asked.

“Well, this stuff has glitter in it; these reflect different colors depending on what angle you hold it–though it really only works on dark colors–I’ve got this really cool stuff with the holo flecks in it…”

Scar, meanwhile, just grabbed the first thing his hand found in the box. He ended up with a diamond shape made from paper mache, a gold thread loop sticking out the top. He grabbed a few bottles of blue paint, a paper plate, and a brush.

Really, he was just here for the company. He liked Lizzie’s idea of decorating the small-animals hall at the gardens they worked for, but he didn’t want to step in the middle of her project. (Even though she was letting Jimmy do exactly that.) And between the disability, the cat, and the living-alone-thing, Scar didn’t really do all that much for the holidays at home.

It was fine! He wouldn’t say it was a sore spot for him. He just didn’t see the reason for him, specifically, to go through all the effort when it was just himself and Jellie. So it wasn’t like he had anywhere to put Christmas ornaments.

But he didn’t mind. Half of Lizzie’s non-work friend group was out of town for December. Jimmy only had his brother and enough other friends to count on one hand. This was probably healthy for all three of them.

“Oh!” Lizzie grabbed a sponge-tipped tool from the tray with the paintbrushes. “Here, Scar. If you’re trying to get that base color down, the sponge will go faster, especially with all the flat sides.”

“Oh, thank you!” Scar dabbed the sponge in the lightest shade of blue. He figured he would alternate depending on the sides: light on the bottom and dark on the top, then dark on the bottom and light on the top…

It was a struggle, trying to hold the ornament without dropping it or smudging the paint. Partway through, Scar realized he didn’t have any way to put it down to dry. So he just held it carefully, tuning in to what the other two were doing.

Jimmy was applying a layer of gold to one of the ornaments, tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrated. Lizzie had a ceramic one shaped like a stocking, and she had several colors sitting next to her as she applied the first coat of lavender.

“Oh.” Jimmy froze mid-stroke. “Uh, Lizzie? I think I did something wrong.”

“Hm?” Lizzie leaned over, looking at the snowflake he was working on. “It looks fine, Jimmy.”

“It’s green?!”

“Yeah? Oh!” Lizzie grabbed a bottle. “You were using this stuff, right? That’s the color shift!”

“What’s that?” Jimmy’s brow was furrowed, still worried he’d made a mistake. 

“Look, if you move it back and forth–” Lizzie picked the snowflake up at the edges. Scar couldn’t really see it from where he sat, but Jimmy’s eyes widened. “It kinda switches between yellow and green! I’ve got a whole bunch of these. Most of them just have a gold flash, but there’s a few with cooler colors, too.”

“Oh my stars!” Jimmy carefully took the snowflake back, tilting it back and forth, mesmerized.

“Could you give me some of the shifty stuff, Lizzie?” Scar asked. “Maybe a few dots of that on this one…”

“Sure! Hm…” She grabbed a blue bottle with a purple sheen. “This work? It kinda matches what you had going.”

“That’s perfect!”

“Wait!” Jimmy yelled as the bottle changed hands. Scar froze with it. “Do you have anything else like that one? With the purple or the blue, or maybe a green?”

“Let’s seeeee…” Lizzie dragged the big bin of paints over.

“Grian?” Scar asked simply.

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. “That’s definitely a ‘Grian’ thing, right?”

“You are so right. And maybe a little bit of the gold as details?”

“Yeah!”

“If you want,” Lizzie added, “Jimmy, you can grab one of the fancier snowflakes with the cut-out details for your brother. They’re a little bigger, too.”

“Yes!” Jimmy dug through the box, while Lizzie dropped a few more paint bottles by Jimmy’s knee.

“There’s a silver-to-purple and a white-to-blue. Those are probably good for the bottom coat, and then you can add the darker colors on top.”

Jimmy gasped, nearly tipping the box over into his lap. “Ooh, wait!” He balanced the box, then pulled out an ornament. His face fell as he sat back. “Aww.”

“What’s wrong?” Lizzie asked.

Jimmy held out the ornament in front of him, not looking at it. It was almost as big as Scar’s hand, with a little fan at the end of each arm. 

“It’s all bent!” Jimmy turned it over, and Scar could see how the wood curved slightly. “I can’t give him a messed-up gift.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine!” Scar waved his hand. “Gives it, uh, a little bit of character.”

“That looks like one of the ones I ordered online,” Lizzie said, shaking her head. “A few of them are pretty warped. I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

“‘s fine,” Jimmy muttered, putting the ornament down next to his leg. ‘I’ll just get a different one.” He grabbed the box, scowling.

“Hm…” Scar’s eyes landed on a nearby bottle of glittery white. “Hey, Lizzie,” he asked, “what d’you think is your favorite one of all the… weird paints?”

It wasn’t particularly subtle, but it didn’t need to be if the gift-giver wasn’t the one asking.

“Oh, definitely the holographic goop.” She held a couple of bottles in one hand. “It’s supposed to be like a paint, I think, but every time I’ve bought it it’s had a real sludgy consistency. But it’s still super pretty.”

“No kidding!” Out of the corner of his eye, Scar saw Jimmy look up for a moment. “Maybe I’ll use some of that on my next one…”

“Hey, guys?” Jimmy’s voice was small, but both humans immediately turned to him. His hands were still in the box, wings fluttering nervously. He gulped and mumbled, “Do y’think it’d really be okay?”

“Would what be okay?” Scar asked.

Lizzie smiled sweetly. “To use the warped ornament? Of course! Grian’s just gonna be happy to get a gift for you.”

Jimmy hid his eyes behind his wings.

“And I really do think Grian would find it neat,” Scar added.

“Yeah! And besides, it’s not fair to leave that little guy out just because he’s a little crooked, right?”

“Huh.” Jimmy shuffled around in the box, eventually pulling out a few more. “All three of these are also bent. Is it– Can I just paint all of them?”

“Go for it!” Lizzie said. Jimmy smiled as she added, “Do you need more paint for all of those? Fresh water?”

“A new cup of water would be nice,” Jimmy said.

Lizzie nodded, climbing to her feet. As soon as she left sight, Jimmy picked out one of the handful of warped snowflakes and held it out to Scar. It had a particularly crystal-like design, ending in diamond-shaped points on every arm.

Jimmy didn’t say a word, but Scar nodded enthusiastically. He could tell who it was for. Jimmy beamed, wrapping that snowflake in a paper towel and tucking it behind the box, just out of sight of Lizzie’s spot.

---

“Hm. Lizzie?”

“I didn't put those there.”

“That’s what I thought.”

The staff of Flower Fields Botanical Gardens had already done their annual gift exchange. Scar was tucking his various goodies into his bag, while Lizzie was snacking on the white chocolate-and-raspberry cookies Scar had made for her. But despite all of the staff and volunteers who'd signed up having handed out presents, there were two packages left in the break room.

Sitting on top of the coffee machine were two small drawstring bags, yellow fabric with shiny gold swirls. When Scar got closer, he could see tags with his and Lizzie's name scribbled on them, near-illegibly.

“Now, I wonder who these are from…” Lizzie sang, clearly sure who the mystery gift-giver was.

“Yeah…” Scar muttered, turning his package over. He looked up to see Lizzie grinning at him.

“You open your first,” she insisted.

“You're making it sound like a trap.” Scar fiddled with the strings, then said, “Let's open them at the same time then!”

“Works for me!”

It took a bit of fumbling to open the bag–somebody had cinched the drawstrings far tighter than was needed–but Scar eventually looped his fingers through a green ribbon. Carefully, Scar pulled his gift out of the bag.

It was a small, flat piece of wood, about the size of Scar’s palm, shaped like a gift tag and glittery red. Glued to the front was the silhouette of a cat, painted a warm off-white, pawing at a tiny star, carefully painted glittery gold. The back was painted the same red, with the gold used to draw a lopsided heart to fill the back.

“Oh, Jimmy…” Scar whispered. He cupped the ornament in his hand. There was no note from the gifter, but Scar was sure he knew who it was. He could see tiny spots where the paint had run over from the foreground pieces to the background, but it was rather well-done for a beginner. He could only imagine how hard Jimmy had worked on it.

“Scar, look!” Lizzie’s voice was an excited hiss. She was holding the exact ornament Scar had guessed Jimmy would give her. It was painted a soft pink, covered in a few layers of the holo-flake topcoat, and with a small silver rhinestone in the center. The whole thing hung from a metallic black cord, looped through one of the holes that finished each arm of the snowflake. It spun freely as Lizzie pinched the cord in her fingers, which was probably why both sides were decorated.

“Was this his plan the whole time?” Scar wondered aloud.

“Well, it was in your case!”

“Really?!”

“Yeah! That’s why he and I were at the store in the first place.” Lizzie looked over Scar’s shoulder, then smirked. “I can see you, y’know!”

Scar heard a soft chirp. He spun around, catching sight of a tiny yellow bird watching them from the outside windowsill. The bird picked up a tiny satchel in its beak and spread its wings.

“Now hold on!” Scar yelled after the bird, who took off as quickly as he was spotted.

Lizzie laughed. “Aw, c’mon. Probably out by the plum tree, right?”

“Yeah, that’s one of his favorite spots.” Scar grabbed his jacket, buttoning it halfway as he flung the door open.

They found not a bird, but a young man under the branches of the big plum tree outside the main building. Judging by the way he wobbled, Jimmy has just retaken his human form. He rubbed the back of his neck, watching as the two of them approached. “You like ‘em?”

“You little rascal– of course we like them!” Scar threw his arms around Jimmy, earning a startled cheep as they swayed back and forth.

“These are so sweet!” Lizzie swung hers a bit, watching as the glitter caught the afternoon sun. “When’d you even get this done?”

“Well, I had to be sneaky ‘bout it!” Jimmy said, smiling as Scar put him down.

Lizzie had helped Jimmy thin the holo-goop to a paintable state with some varnish, but seemingly hadn’t given a second thought to where he planned to use it. Not that Scar could judge–he didn’t even remember seeing anything with a cat on it!

“We maaay have actually picked up a few things at the craft store,” Lizzie said. She must’ve seen, either now or a moment ago, Scar confusion. “He flew back in late that night to work on yours.”

“I kinda wanted to paint it to look like Jellie,” Jimmy added softly. “But I didn’t want to mess it up. Maybe next time?”

“It’s still adorable either way, big man!” Scar poked Jimmy’s cheek, earning a tiny smile. He stepped back, cane jingling as it tapped the pathway.

Jimmy's eyes darted down, and he gasped and leaned in towards Scar's cane. “What's this?!”

He was staring at the little, ornate key-shaped charm hanging on the loop that attached the wrist strap. Lizzie had specifically chosen it on the grounds that it was both durable enough to get whacked around and small enough to not be distracting or intrusive.

“Oh, this?” Scar glanced to the side. “I think someone else would do a better job explaining, right?” As he said that, Lizzie dug through her purse for the right bag.

Jimmy didn't seem to notice at first, tilting his head and looking at Scar like a confused puppy.

“Surprise!”

Jimmy startled, jumping back upright as Lizzie yelled. She held out a small paper gift bag with tissue peeking out the top. “Happy holidays, Jimmy!”

Jimmy took it slowly, unsurely. He reached into the bag, picking through until he pulled out Lizzie’s gift. It was a heart-shaped bottle filled with tiny dark purple-and-pink beads. As Jimmy turned it over, Scar could see sparkly white pompoms, like clouds against a sunset. The stopper had a short gold chain attached, ending in a clasp big enough to secure it to Jimmy’s bag.

“You said anything on the outside of your bag shrinks with it,” Lizzie said. “So that should fit whether you’re walking or flying with it!”

“I…” Jimmy ran the chain through his fingers, watching the charm sway and shimmer. He seemed entranced for a moment, before he cupped the charm in his palm and held it to his chest. He smiled at Lizzie, eyes shimmering as if he might cry. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Aw, I’m glad you like it!” Lizzie threw her arms around Jimmy’s shoulders. With his hands full, Jimmy just leaned into the hug, nuzzling his face against her scarf. She giggled and ruffled his hair.

Scar had stepped away to give the two some space, but they were pulled out of it by beat-up rubber hitting cold asphalt. Lizzie stepped back, dramatically rolling her eyes and saying, “Yeah, yeah, you’re on your way to one-up me, aren’t you?!”

“I’m not trying to one-up you–” Scar yelled, waving his cane in mock-annoyance.

“You brought food!”

“And you brought sparkly things! I think we’re keeping pretty good pace!”

Lizzie giggled. “Come on, Jimmy,” she said. “Scar has something for you too!”

“He does?” Jimmy sounded in disbelief. Scar paused in the parking lot, looking back. Lizzie was already jogging to catch up, while he could faintly make out the delicate way Jimmy lowered the charm back into its bag and took both handles in one hand.

The trio caught up behind Scar’s station wagon, where he popped the trunk open. It was cold enough that Scar didn't have to worry about things melting, even locked in his car all day, so everyone’s presents rode around with him until he had a chance to hand them out.

He pawed through the giant tote bag. There were only a few boxes left, including the ones for the fae brothers. He grabbed the one decorated with poinsettias and stepped away from the trunk.

“I wasn't super-sure what kind of sweets you like, and I didn't want anything that might hurt your little bird tummy–I couldn't use chocolate so you didn't get a hot chocolate bomb, I could've bought apple cider mix but it probably would've had the wrong cinnamon so I ended up making that from scratch so I hope it's alright–”

“Oh my gosh!” Scar had handed over the box without noticing, and Jimmy was fumbling to hold and dig through it at the same time. He finally looped one arm under the bottom, picking up the pack of strawberry-oatmeal cookies with the other hand. He moved to hug the box to his chest, Lizzie’s gift bag still hanging from his fingers and a twinkle in his eye. “Thank you thank you–!”

“Of course, buddy!” Scar beamed as he closed the trunk. He wondered about giving Jimmy the one for Grian as well, but decided he wanted to see Grian's reaction in person.

Jimmy took the lid back from Lizzie, who'd taken it while he was juggling the box. He replaced it and rested his chin on the box, smiling. “Man, you guys…!” His bottom lip trembled, and he turned away.

“Oh, Jim!” Scar stepped forward, putting a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Lizzie rubbed Jimmy’s back, while Jimmy took a deep breath.

“Sorry, sorry, just…” Jimmy looked up at the sky, clearly trying to hold back sniffles. “Y’know, I’ve been given things before, but it’s never been part of this whole organized… thing, right? This– this feels special.”

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have done most human holidays, would you?” Lizzie rubbed her chin. “D’you guys do birthdays? Do fairies even have birthdays?”

“Not as far as I know,” Jimmy said. “Guess I could ask Gr– Wait!” He twisted his body, trying to swing his little brown satchel to his front. “I gotta get back home before Grian’s done running errands! I wanted to have his waiting for him, but it’s still in my bag!”

“Well, hey!” Scar shook his keys. “Me and Lizzie are almost done, and I’ve gotta drop off my present for your brother too.”

“Besides,” Lizzie added, “I don’t think that box is gonna fit in your little magic bag.”

“Yeeeah, good point.” Jimmy drummed his fingers on the side of the box. “Do you wanna come with, Lizzie? I know you’ve never seen where Grian and I live; he gets picky about havin’ guests over, but he knows you’re alright, so it shouldn’t be a problem…”

“Yeah!” Scar clapped Lizzie on the back. “Now it’s your turn to fall into the tree!”

“Tree? What tree? You guys live in a tree?”

Jimmy nodded.

“Like in a fairy way or in a bird way?”

“Wanna find out?” Scar didn’t wait for an answer, just hurrying to open the back door of his car. “Go ahead and drop those in the seat, Jim. Lizzie and I have gotta finish closing up, gotta make sure the animals are fed, then we can head over to your place, alright?”

“Sounds good to me!” Jimmy carefully shoved the box into the backseat, then placed the paper bag next to it. He stood up, stretched, then cleared his throat. “And, uh, Lizzie,” he muttered, half-heartedly hiding his mouth with his hand, “If you need a hand with the critters–”

“Well, look at that!” Lizzie grinned in a way that made Jimmy visibly flinch. “You finally ready to go say ‘hi’ to Stew?”

“No no no no!” Jimmy yelled before the question was finished. “Not– not today! But… I think I can help with the stoats? Maybe?”

“Alright, alright…” Lizzie scoffed as she and Jimmy crossed the parking lot. “You know a fox can’t eat you at this size, right?”

“It’s the principle of the thing!

“He’s gonna stay in his hutch the whole time–”

“See, that’s what he wants you to think!”

Scar chuckled, shaking his head. He took a moment to check the sky–daylight was fading, and clouds were starting to form. Best they finish soon and hit the road before the weather got ugly.

All in all, though, he’d call ‘Project: Baby (Bird)’s First Christmas’ a roaring success.

[xxblairexxss]

Hunt Game (Charles Leclerc x reader) (p.4)

Series contain stalking, harrasment, sexual violence.

Word count : 5.9k

Masterlist

What happened when Charles stopped believing in you and you were left all alone.

Chapter 4

"Leave it there, baby. I’ll take care of it.” Charles went to pick up a call that had been ringing for the past few minutes while he was helping you organise your luggage for the holiday. Upon discussions among the group over the past months, they had agreed to go with Greece for this year’s break.

It was their tradition even before you started dating Charles. Though most of them work in different professions now, they were willing to apply for a break weeks prior, adjusting their schedule to match Charles’ just to keep the tradition going, and it was really sweet how strong the friendships were.

The flight was scheduled to be a few hours away, and you still couldn’t make up your mind about which dresses you should opt for. Asking your fiancé wasn’t helping at all because he would always say, "You’ll look great in anything," but that surely wasn’t the answer you were looking for, so you had been staring at your dresses that were draped on the bed. Your white duvet wasn’t even white anymore. It was full of different colours from your colourful summer dresses.

The phone on the bedside table rang as it vibrated. The number alone was enough to send chills. It was the same number that had been bothering you for weeks now. There wasn’t any need to think twice as you rejected the call and diverted your attention back on the clothes. All you had to do is ignore him and think of something else. It will stop one day. You just needed to be patience. The peace didn’t last for long because it rang again the next second, over and over until you set the phone to power off.

"Y/N? Anything wrong?" Charles came in and pulled your attention away from the black screen of your phone that was thrown on the bed.

"N—no, not at all. Who was it?” You looked up as he strode in front of you to stroke his thumb on your cheek.

"Oh, it was the team. I asked them to update my schedule, and they needed to ask for my confirmation. Did Lizzy call you? I thought I heard your phone ring."

"Lizzy? Oh, yeah, she did. Um, she just asked me if I had finished packing my stuff." The dark green and rose floral-printed dresses in front of you didn’t look as exciting as they were when your mind was clouded with the number. What else did he want from you.

"Oh, I bought this on my way home earlier.” A small box of prescription medicine that was left on the dressing table was handed to you, making you stared at it in question.

"This is for...?”

He cackled and leaned in to kiss your hair. "You haven’t been feeling very well, haven’t you? I have been waking up to the sound of you throwing up every morning since a few days ago.” Heaving a sigh, Charles took a seat in front of you as he caressed your thigh. You knew what he was going to suggest, so you shook your head, beaming. "What?" His wrinkles around his eyes became more prominent.

You ended up laughing along with him. "We can’t not go on this trip, honey. They have been very excited about it."

"They’ll understand if I say you haven’t been feeling well.” He squirmed as you pinched on his waist.

"Are you throwing me under the bus?” You gasped dramatically while he tried to get away.

"But it’s the truth, baby! Or could it be food poisoning, no?” He eventually held your hand and brushed his lips along your fingers, stopping you from pinching his body. "Did you eat something wrong?"

"I don’t know! I ate the same thing you did. We should have suffered together.” You pursed your lips and pulled his face closer to peck at his cheek. "Let’s go! We shouldn’t be late."

"Says someone who still had tonnes of clothes here.” He picked up a dress and casually put it in the luggage, thinking he’s lending you a hand.

"I don’t want to wear that one!” You frowned, the white dress was being thrown back on the bed as Charles blinked, confused with how your mind works.

"Then why did you even bring it out?" He asked.

“Because I thought I wanted to wear them!”

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charlesleclerc has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

The light from the bathroom and the sound of water constantly flowing pulled him from his dream. The empty bedside had given him the answer he needed as he dragged himself off the bed to check on you.

You felt his presence on the door frame before he could take a breath. The first night of the holiday couldn’t be even worse than this. You thought you were feeling better. You could joke around, playing games, laughing around for hours, thinking you could ditch on the medicine but your beauty sleep was cut short when you felt the need to eject all of the contents in your stomach the next morning.

"Sorry for waking you up.” Groaning, you lifted up your head to turn off the faucet as your fiancé stepped in.

"It’s alright." He breathed out and tugged his chin against your head as you leaned against his chest. Your body was definitely hot, even when there were layers of clothes between his skin and yours. "Have you taken the medicine?"

"No, I thought it had stopped.” You were so sleepy, but even when you closed your eyes, the constant feeling of something pushing everything in your stomach up to your throat would just kick the drowsiness away. Laying down made it even worse, and you were so worn out from having to run back to the toilet. Perhaps you could continue the last 2 hours before sunrise by sleeping in the bathtub, that way you wouldn’t have to rush when the nauseous hit again.

"Stay on the bed. I’ll take you a glass of water, alright?"

The hotel room couldn’t be any bigger; it would be a paradise if you were in perfect health, but right now, it was maddening. A walk back to the bed itself felt so far, you just wanted to crawl your way back.

The faint sound of the door knocking halted his movement. A few drops of the plain water dropped to the white, lavish-looking counter as he jumped from the sound with the glass in his hand. The hotel wasn’t an apartment that came with a long hallway. It was designated to give more privacy to the guests, so every unit would be roughly a few metres away from the next one. Though  it wasn’t unusual to hear footsteps or voices passing through as the guests went back to their rooms or went out to enjoy the night, but there surely shouldn’t be a knocking sound.

When he peeked through the peephole, he was a second late, as the person on the other side had turned his back to walk further away. He was wearing a nude-coloured uniform, the same one the bellboy was wearing. Charles walked back to the room, brushing off the knock as a mistake for the room number.

"Baby, here.” He handed you the glass of water.

Your head felt like it weighed the same as a bowling bowl. The nausea was gone now, but you still felt like you got beaten up head to toe. Everything hurt. You took the medicine that Charles had packed with the water he brought for you and scooted further on the bed to make yourself comfortable under the duvet. "I can’t.." You pulled your hand away and shook your head, rejecting his offer to lay down as you remained sitting up with your back against the headboard. "I can’t lay down, Charles. It will make me feel nauseous again, and it’s so uncomfortable. My back hurts."

"Okay, okay, baby. Then we’ll just sleep like this.” The end of the duvet slipped off his body as he sat up and copied your way of sitting while he drew you into his embrace. "Is this okay?"

"But you won’t be comfortable." You dipped your face closer against his neck as you closed your eyes, feeling the drowsiness slowly take over your body again.

"I’m more than comfortable. Go to sleep, honey."

Charles didn’t have to say it twice because the heat from his body with him fondling you acted like a lullaby. It felt like you were being hypnotised because you were gone with just a snap.

You just couldn’t live your life without him.

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"Alone?" Riccardo arched a brow as he saw his friend join the table for breakfast with no sight of his lovely fiancée, whom he was obsessed with.

"Y/N is not feeling well.” Charles replied as he leaned his head to the side while his hand applied some pressure to the spot. He woke up this morning feeling like he had nails hammered around his neck. "My body is sore, dude.” He bent his upper body down on the table and groaned from the pressure. Sleeping upright definitely used every muscle.

His friends started laughing, and he didn’t have to look at their faces to know what it was about. "No, it’s not what you think.” He laughed along, shutting down the thoughts.

"Yeah, right. Thank God our rooms are a few metres away."

"Ah, speaking about that. Did you,” The friends’ gaze went on him. "heard any knocks from the staff last night?"

"I was dead asleep, Charles.” Gabriel, Lizzy’s boyfriend, replied while Lizzy took a seat beside him.

"I heard." Lizzy interrupted. "I even looked at the peephole, but it was just the staff checking something, I guess. Why? It disturbed your little activity with Y/N?”

"Shut up."

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You chuckled as Charles made himself comfortable in your arms right when he came back from breakfast. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your middle as you played with his hair. Though you woke up this morning feeling all better, you had developed some kind of trauma from eating because you always ended up in the bathroom the next morning so based on your logical way of thinking, if you didn’t eat, there was no way you would get sick again. So your fiancé had to go and have his breakfast alone, not literally because he had his friends but alone in the sense he didn’t have you to keep him accompany. Now that he was back, he had to cling on you to make up for the 2 hours of you leaving him alone.

"They are going to the pool, baby. Do you want to join?"

"Charles, stop. That tickles!" He laughed when you wiggled around as he poked at your waist. "Stop!" You sat up, hands cupping his cheeks while giggling as he stopped poking you.

"Do you want to eat something, baby?"

"I want pancakes.” Your so-called-logical way of thinking were left in the lurch when your stomach growled as if it was put on to speaker so you ended up caving in and requested for your favourite food.

He called for room service as you left the bed to get ready for the day. Just like how hard it was to decide what you should bring, it was equally hard, or maybe even harder, to choose what to wear right now.

"The green is cute, isn’t it? But the red is equally adorable as well!"

"Babe, just wear anything!" Charles was lying down on the bed, scrolling through his Instagram feed with your bikinis draped all around him like some kind of floor art. “Your pancake is here, honey and you still haven’t make a decision.” He stood up and went to get the door as the bell rang while you rushed to pick one out of all outfits because there was no way you had been contemplating this long.

"Room service!"

"Just put it on the table, please.” Charles snaked a few bills from the back of his jeans and handed them to the staff as a tip after he arranged the food. "Thank you so much."

"Honey, look! Oh, sorry."

He pressed his lips to hold his laugh when you scurried to cover up your body with the long white polo shirt that acted as the cardigan so you wouldn’t feel too naked, especially now in front of the hotel staff with the door opened.

"Is there anything else you need help with?"

"No, that’ll be it. Thank you." His body jerked back as you ran to bury your flushed face on his chest while the door closed behind him.

"That was so embarrassing! You should have told me he was still here!"

"You didn’t hear me talking to him?” He cackled even more.

"No?" You then dragged him to the table, where your pancake was beautifully placed with the syrups and honey on the side. "Are you not going to eat it with me?"

"No, honey. I’m full. I’ll go get change while you eat, alright?" He left you alone, enjoying the pancakes all to yourself, while he went to change, which only took less than 5 minutes without having to think about what it would look like in pictures. How easy it was to be a man!

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lizzyusername has added to their story

"Can she swim? Charles clicked his tongue and clapped on his hands as he approached Didi.

"She clearly can’t swim, Charles. She’s 12 months old! But she likes water.” Martha said in response as she handed her little girl to the driver as he carried Didi to the centre of the pool, where you were.

"Oh, she’s so cute!" You squealed when Didi giggled in his arms; the little hands slapped on the surface of the water, which made your fiancé’s face fully decorated from the droplets of water.

"We should definitely get a baby.”

You stopped playing peek-a-boo with the little one as your gaze went to your fiancé. There wasn’t any hint of tease or trick on his face. "Are you having baby fever from carrying her?"

"Yeah." He swayed little Didi in his arms as the little one shook her loaf-like arms in the water. "I can’t wait to build a family with you, love.”

This man in front of you never fail making you fall in love all over again.

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He found you. It was always easy to know where you were because he gave it all away. Just like how Charles’ 11 million followers knew where he was and how open and direct he was about his summer vacation, it only took him a split second to book the same hotel as you were.

It was a bit of a quandary for him to find where your room was. As witless as your companions were, they wouldn’t divulge the room numbers, so he had to take a screenshot of the pictures on their Instagram stories where it could reveal the view from the window and make a rough guess.

"Honey, look!"

Your voice. It was the voice he had been yearning to hear. He liked the way the white cardigan curved around your body. He saw the way Charles took you in his arms and how you hid your cheeks so he would stop kissing you.

Bastard.

It was unfair that he always had to be the one watching. Just like how Charles stole his career away, the chances away, the winning away, and the fame away. He had to have a perfect girl too.

But he had enough watching from the side now. It was too late to take the winning and the chances on the career back now but he could definitely take the girl he wanted.

He could definitely take you from him.

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"If Charles is looking for me, tell him I’m going to the bathroom!"

"What?!" Lizzy yelled straight to your ear; it would have drilled a hole in your eardrum if she went a pitch higher.

"I’m going to the bathroom!” You were so close to scream your lungs out.

"Oh! Okay go!"

Every night, the hotel would hold an event where they would blast a song until nearly sunrise, and people would just get drunk until dawn. Lizzy, her boyfriend, Gabriel, Charles, and you decided to hit it off for a few hours while Riccardo and Martha had to skip for their 12-month-old baby.

Something rough snatched on your wrist while you were on your way back and dragged you to the corner of the area. His gaze pierced straight into your eyes. The same gaze you had been seeing for weeks. The gaze that would always sent cold creeps. The gaze that was full of hatred and anger there was no comfort in it at all.

"Why did you ignore me?”

"What? Let me go!” You tugged on your wrist harshly, nearly punching him in the chin from the force. "I said, let me go! What the fuck do you want from me?”

"I hate it when you ignore me. Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong? I—"

"Stop!" You obstructed him from continuing his words, which made him knit his brows together. "I’m not ignoring you! I don’t even know who you are!"

"Liar! You know me. We talked a lot of times. You said we have a lot in common!” He pulled on your wrist towards his chest, which ended you a gap away from him. "I have never met anyone who had so much in common with me. You just need to give me a chance, ba—"

"Baby?" Charles had a scowl on his face as he approached both of you. You were left to keep Lizzy accompany and he didn’t want to bug your girls time with her so he went to stay with Gabriel where he got carried away with the conversations with a few other acquaintance. When he came back to Lizzy, you were gone. He wasn’t expecting to see you in very close proximity to a guy out of anyone’s sight. "What are you doing? Who are you?"

"I’ll take my leave.” Charles saw his face very clearly as he was dressed very casual, like how any other people in this venue would dress. He finally let go of your hand and walked past the driver as you stood there, tongue-tied.

"Wait." Charles called out, and his gaze went on the guy. "We met before, didn’t we?"

"No? You got the wrong guy.”

You saw him quickly leave the area; his pace was fast but not enough to raise suspicion from the rest of the crowd. His hand was fishing out something from his back pocket, and the phone in your hand rang a second later.

"Who’s that guy?"

"He was—he was looking for his friend.” You could finally breathe when you felt Charles’s touch on your waist, full of reassurance and comfort—everything you needed at the moment.

He left a few lingering kisses on the side of your head, murmuring against your hair. "I thought he did something to you, honey. Next time, please let me know if you ever need to go somewhere.”

"I told Lizzy." You tilted your head to find him chuckling.

"She’s wasted. You chose the wrong person to deliver the message. Let’s call it a night."

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marthausername added to their story

tagged ynusername, charlesleclerc

"She opened the door and freaked out because—"

"You guys are so boring.” Martha cut off your storytelling, which made Charles grumble against your middle. He had been laying his head on your stomach while both of you were sprawled on the beach mat with your novel in hand.

Charles was just using an excuse so he could hear you talk while he fell asleep. He loved lying on you and watching how your eyes brightened whenever you told him everything that happened in the chapter. Though it was nearly impossible to understand because he didn’t even know any of the character’s name, the plot, the storyline wasn’t that important. He just wanted to listen.

"Can you leave us alone?” Charles replied, turning his face back to you, but his sight was interfered by little Didi when Martha put her daughter to join the both of you as she walked back to her boyfriend, Riccardo. "I—" He ended up laughing along with you. "I was going to get mad, but she smiled at me."

"We can always be her emergency babysitter." You commented before going back to your book while playing with his hair as he played peek-a-boo with Didi.

"You threw up again this morning, didn’t you?"

"Yeah.."

"We should really get you checked, honey. It’s been nearly a week? Surely the medicine isn’t working.” You glanced down and caught his worried face. It made you feel so bad because regardless how hard you tried to hide it from him, you knew Charles would always be anxious whenever you were sick, especially now when the sickness lasted longer.

"I’m sorry."

"There’s nothing you should be sorry about, love. I’m just worried about you. I’ll set an appointment with my GP, alright?” He assured and took your hand to leave a peck on the back of it before he focused back on Didi.

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ynusername has added to their story

"Are you sure it is okay for you?”

"Of course! I wouldn’t mind it. Just go and enjoy the night, Martha!” You firmly replied as Didi leaned her body towards you when you picked her up. "I’ll spend the rest of the night with this little girl."

"Thank you so much, Y/N. I wouldn’t know what I would do without you. Is Charles coming with us or—“ Martha looked at the driver as she spoke.

"I—"

"He’ll be coming with you! You chirped in before he could say anything. "He just needed to change first, right, honey?"

"Oh, okay! Then we’ll wait for you in the lobby.” The rest of the group left your room as they headed towards the lobby, all of them looking like they were so ready to get wasted.

"Honey, I can’t just leave you alone.” Charles exhaled, clearly looked like he wasn’t pleased with your decision.

"I can take care of myself! You spent this whole vacation worrying about me, honey. Go and enjoy the night. Didi and I will do just fine.” Didi let out a squeal as you cooed her. Despite all the persuasion and coaxing, he wasn’t even budge that you ended up having to turn it into some form of coercion just so he would leave the room by guilt-tripping him about how bad he was to make the friends waiting for this long.

"I’ll be back in an hour or so. Call me if you need anything.” He left after brushing his lips on your forehead, face wasn’t filled with any kind of anticipation. He was just looking like a kid who was forced to go to school.

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You tugged the little girl to sleep right when it hit her sleep time, and it was easier than you expected. Though you didn’t have any experience with kids other than being a part time babysitter back when you were still a teenager, Didi was a very manageable baby. You only had to feed her with the bottle that Martha had prepared beforehand as she played with her feet until her eyes got all droopy and she gave in.

Nothing beat the perfect idea to wind down your day by having little snacks you bought the day before while getting yourself entertained with the movie playing on the screen. 

Then you heard a knock. Talk about man of his words. He really came back an hour after just like how he told you. Giggling, you put the snacks away as you hopped your way to the door, all set to hug him as he walked in.

"Welcome back! Did you have fu—what are you doing here?"

"I missed you. I missed you so much.” He walked in as if it were the most casual thing and started pulling you for a hug, to which you shoved him away.

"What do you want from me?” You tried to scurry your way back to the room, but he tugged on your shirt and held something against your face. It was warm and a little wet. It was cupped harshly on your face that it left you with no chances other than breathing in the chemical, ether-like odor. You tried to pull his hand away, yanking on his shirt—anything that you could grab to free yourself but within every strive, your body started feeling heavier and heavier. Lifting up the arm felt like it needed every vitality, you just wanted to lay down. That was all you remember as your legs gave in as you succumbed to the darkness.

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Charles quickly tapped the access card and walked in when he heard Didi’s crying from outside the room. It was so loud and strained. She sounded as if she had been crying for so long and no one had noticed. He picked her up and swayed her as the wailing started to cease. Her cheeks were red, and her voice sounded sore from the heavy, excessive crying. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep from using her energy to cry, for God knew how long it had been.

"Y/N..?"

Once he put Didi back to sleep, he tread to the bedroom where you were tugged in and sound asleep on the bed, fully naked. Your hair was a mess and sticking all over your face. It was weird for you to be sleeping, ignoring the cries from Didi because you were a light sleeper and everything about it sounded so irresponsible. If Martha had to choose between you and Lizzy to babysit her daughter, it would always be you because she, Charles, and everyone else knew how much you loved kids. It was never like you to ignore a child just so you could sleep. The notification sound coming nonstop from his phone halted his movement as he brought out it out from his pocket to check on it.

It was pictures, and pictures. More than 10 pictures of you naked with a guy who he couldn’t seem to make out the face. The pictures were taken from different angles, and it was clearly something that would give anyone a nightmare to see pictures of their beloved partner under someone else, with no layer of clothes. The phone nearly slipped off his hand as he walked out of the room, feeling himself suffocated. Tonnes of thoughts started popping up in his head, wondering where it all went wrong, what he did to deserve all this, and why this happened when the relationship had been nothing but perfect throughout the years. There was never a big argument; you and he had been giving constant reassurance despite the career difference, with no insecurities or unspoken problems that couldn’t be solved. Why would you do this to him?

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You woke up the next morning and became conscious of your current state when the duvet was lifted off from holding on to your body. The room was silent, and Charles was nowhere to be seen. "Didi." You muttered, as if to remind yourself and got dressed with any clothes you could lay your hands on before hurried out to find the little one, but the baby cot was empty.

"Charles, where’s Didi?” You saw him on the couch playing with his phone. He was still wearing the same outfit from last night. Judging from how languid his actions were, it seemed like he didn’t catch a wink.

"I sent her back to Martha. Get your stuff packed. The flight is in two hours." He stood up and walked past you to get to the room. He was different. There wasn’t a smile or a touch. He wasn’t even looking at you.

"Charles." You grabbed his arm.

"Don’t fucking touch me, Y/N." He yanked his arm away and headed back to the room.

That was all you heard him say before he went mute for the rest of the days. He didn’t touch any of your stuffs. You were left to pick up everything on your own. You weren’t spoil but for more than 5 years, he was the one to help you pack, unpack, keep everything in check. Now that you were suddenly forced to be on your own despite being in the same room with the love of your life, you weren’t prepared for it. You followed him like a lost puppy with your luggage to say goodbye to the rest of the group. The vacation was supposed to end in two days, so you were taken back when he requested that you pack your stuff but obeyed without further questions.

When you met the rest of the friends, they were looking sad because you had to cut the vacation short due to Charles’ sudden call for work, as mentioned by Gabriel. You had to play it off so they wouldn’t feel like some things were off because you had ruined Charles’ vacation; you surely didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s.

"Your hickeys are fresh! No wonder Charles was eager to go back early last night." Lizzy cracked a joke as she hugged you. Your hands went on your neck as you rested it there, feeling your heart beat faster. You had no recollections of last night other than opening the door to the creepy guy, and you woke up this morning completely nude. You wanted to tell Charles about what happened up until what you could remember, but he had been ignoring you. His gaze was cold, and it terrified you to say anything.

Your flight back felt like a going home from a solo trip. He didn’t say anything and you weren’t talking as well so it felt like living in a world where everything was quite and there was no sort communication. When you reached your apartment, Charles helped you bring the luggage all the way up.

But it was just yours.

His luggage was left in the car.

“Where—where are you going?” You called out, grabbing his hand as he tried to walk out after dropping the last baggage inside the house.

"I can’t stay here with you.”He tried to pull his hand away, but your grasp went tighter, as you felt the tightness in your throat.

"No, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t leave me alone. About last night, I—"

"I give no fuck about what happened last night, Y/N." Your body was jerked forward as he pulled his hand away. "I was never enough for you, was it?"

"No, you don’t get it! He tried to—"

"Explain the pictures! He bellowed, full of rage.

“What pictures are you talking about?” You brought your gaze up and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "Charles, what pictures?"

He let out a chuckle and rolled his eyes. "No one’s going to believe this fucking act you got right here, Y/N. I am done with you.” He started walking to the elevator, leaving you to chase after him.

"Charles! No, please! Please don’t do this to me. What about us.."

"There is no us anymore, Y/N. You should have thought twice before bringing that guy to our bed. It was no wonder you were so eager to ask me to join them instead of accompanying you." He stepped inside the elevator and held down the close-door button, loathing to spend another second seeing your crying act.

"Please hear what I have to say! Charles!" You went down on your knees as the elevator closed. You stayed there, praying the door would open and he would come back, but he didn’t. "I can't—I can’t live without you.” You murmured, sitting on the cold ground for another minutes before picking yourself up as you trudged back to the apartment. The little stones and pebbles felt harsh against the soles of your feet when you didn’t even bother to put on any shoes when you chased after him earlier.

And that was the last time you ever saw him.

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Life was hard without Charles. He had always been the one who helped you with everything. It was as if you had to learn how to live all over again. A week after he left, you got a call this morning reminding you of your appointment. It was an appointment that Charles had made when you were in Greece last week, and he should have accompanied you.

You hadn’t stepped out of the apartment because something about going home to an empty house put you in a misery. You couldn’t even drive so you had to go on Internet to find out how to book a cab. You saw him in his black hoodie, black cap like the one he was wearing when he chased after you in the elevator weeks before. He was leaning against one of the lamp pole, eyes on the entrance of the apartment as if he was waiting for you. Before he could approach and get closer, you dashed to the cab that had been waiting for you from the booking you had set earlier.

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"How long have you been feeling sick?" Your GP, the lovely doctor that had been attending you and Charles for years asked and her gaze went on you. 

"A few weeks ago." You answered, fingers playing with your engagement ring. It was hard to make an eye contact with anyone because you felt horrible. You hadn’t stop crying to you eyes had been puffy for weeks. You had no energy left to put on any makeups so you just went with a tinted lip balm and a sunscreen. You hadn’t been talking to anyone that it felt like you could break down in tears if someone looked at you any longer than a minute.

"What about your period cycle?"

"I—" You pressed your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t been getting your period this month since last month but never bothered to think of anything because you had always had an irregular cycle. A skip for a month and two wasn’t really something that you were unfamiliar with.

Seeing how you were unable to answer the question, she gave a smile and asked the nurse to set up the machine. "How about we get you an ultrasound?”

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You had to lock yourself in one of the cubicles because you couldn’t hold your tears any longer. Back when you and Charles had a conversation about a family, you were actually 7 weeks pregnant.

It was always your dream to have a family with Charles, your dream man, but you never thought you would be walking out from the doctor’s room with a sonogram in hand without him.

You fished out your phone with your shaky hands and tried to call your fiancé, or ex-fiancé, hoping he would pick up this one call. If none of your phone calls were picked up since last week, please let him pick up just this one.

But you were only greeted with long beeps, like every other calls you had tried since he left.

"Charles, it’s me. Please, please call me back. I’m begging you. I have something to tell.” You pleaded, hoping he would listen to this voicemail as you hung up.

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