#also in the middle of rereading the left hand of darkness for the third time

[docholligay]

How do I always forget you like Arthuriana? It just doesn't seem like you even though you've posted before

I'm surprised you say it doesn't seem like me! While the King Arthur legend has been around roughly half of forever and so has been molded and changed for many times and ways of thinking (which in itself I find interesting) at core, I think it's about duty and nobility and sacrifice and deeply passionate emotions, both good and bad. And to me that sounds like me! Or at least my interests.

But yeah, you know how everyone talks about "If you ended up gay/neuroatypical/whatever thing that currently means you did anything as a child, were you into Greek mythology or Egyptian Mythology?" Not me! I was the secret third option ahaha. I was obsessed with King Arthur, and to a lesser extent anything that involved pledges of troth and a sword--The Three Musketeers was one of the defining movies of my childhood.

But from the first time I saw The Sword in the Stone as a small child*, I was like, "Oh this fucks absolutely" (but in small rural child) and by the time I was, oh, maybe 9? The librarian got me The Once and Future King, and it was off to the fucking RACES. I read everything I could get my hands on, even stuff that was too advanced to yet click with me in any real way even if I could physically read it. I have a firm memory of reading Sutliff's Tristan and Iseult while sitting on a rock in the middle of the woods, eating a sandwich.

Sidenote to the other ask, about The Dark is Rising: I read it because I was once a child?? aahaha, I don't mean to be a jackass, but yeah, i read kids' things when i was a kid, even if I was reading it alongside adult stuff. I actually loved the Dark is Rising series so much I refuse to reread it.

What can i say? I came to my teaboo stage early and left it by the time I was a teenager.

I still like it! It's not quite the all-encompassing thing it was when I was a kid, but Arthurian shit is still heavy on my mind, it's just that it's not as easy to find stuff that is both Arthurian and engaging on the level I want to. That's why I lost my mind for The Green Knight, and also The Buried Giant, which, like a couple books I read at the end of the year, I liked so much i struggle to write a review of them. I need to get over that, it's insane.

When the little woman and I went to the UK, I considered doing a whole Cornwall and Wales King Arthur thing, but then I was like, "Well, will BEING there do anything for me, or is it this IDEA I have of Arthur that I love, which is obviously like, Avalon as fuck, but is a castle ruin going to EVOKE that for me?" and then anyway Jill wanted to see Scotland which settled that matter.

But! We've talked about saving up to take beeb on a vacation for her interests and I would love it if she somehow mysteriously ended up being a King Arthur kid so I could take that trip "for the baby" and thus justify it to myself.

SO YES I DO LIKE ARTHURIANA HOWEVER IT FITS YOUR VIEW OF ME

*I actually still have the opener to this memorized, which I did not realize until beeb was asking me to sing her a song while we were driving somewhere. It's not like it is a complicated bit, but surprising to both realize and have come to mind, more than 30 fucking years later.

[bokutoslittlebird]

In Your Eyes

Bokuto Kōtarō x Chubby!Reader

Author’s Note : There are some dark things in here and if you feel suicidal please do not keep it bottled in. It’s not healthy and needs to be addressed. The really bad stuff isn’t until the middle (right before the smut, basically), so be warned! That’s where the suicidal stuff is and like I said, if you do any of this or feel suicidal please seek professional help because it’s not worth keeping unhealthy feelings inside ; If you are wondering why Bokuto’s obsessed with licking and biting in this, I have been rereading a doujin where Bokuto does that and, well, it’s hot ; I swear this would not have taken me so long if I didn’t keep crying while writing it omg I would be dead if I had a shot every time I had to stop writing so I could wipe my tears and snot. This is why I don’t like to read or write angst but wow was that therapeutic.

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, use of the word “pig”, body dysmorphia (inability to look in a mirror), vomit, suicidal tendencies/intention (via overdose) + implied past actions alcohol, soft!dom Bokuto, choking, creampie(s), mating press+doggy style, licking and biting, facesitting

The cheers of the crowd erupted as the whistle blew. Once again, the MSBY Black Jackals had won. This match was against the Red Falcons, another team in the V.1 division. It was a close call, but Hinata managed to break the deuce with his monstrous quick attack and seal the set with their victory.

The team was jumping and bouncing, giving out high fives as they did. Of course, they had to shake hands with the Adlers, bowing to the audience and thanking them for their support. When Bokuto did his classic ‘Bokuto Beam’ move towards the audience, you could hear the girls squealing and giggling. It isn’t like they didn’t do the same when Atsumu or Hinata waved to them, but it hit you different. After all, they were beautiful in your eyes, slim and flawless.

Oh, yes. You’re the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager, being a classmate of Hinata in his second and third year (as in you tutored him and helped manage the volleyball club with Yachi). Hinata was your first friend, which kind of sounds pathetic. It was, if you were being honest with yourself. Being heavier than the average girl at your school subjected you to bullying and pranks that ended with you crying until you threw up. Hinata never made you feel like that, though. He always made sure you were comfortable and every member of the club at Karasuno treated you like an angel. You ended up applying to be the MSBY manager when Hinata asked, saying they needed a manager and wondered if you could apply. Well, it was either that or finding a job at the circus, as your family would sneer at you. Truly, Hinata was the first to accept you.

Once you got the job, it was like being back at Karasuno, honestly. Everyone was friendly and treated you no differently than they would treat others. However, you wished one of them would treat you differently.

Bokuto.

He was the ace of the team, a goofy fella that could make anyone smile. Including you. Aside from Hinata, he made you feel accepted and made you forget about any woes and horrid thoughts you were facing. He didn’t know about them like Hinata did, but you were sure he’d treat you different if he knew.

Once everything was packed up, you and the coach headed out, the team not too far behind you.

“Shōyō-kun, that was one of yer best sets yet!” Atsumu cheerily piped up, walking behind Hinata. Hinata was right beside you, as he always was.

“I’m glad you think so! I don’t know if we can surprise the Adlers next time, though. Kageyama still knows my tricks,” he huffed as he finished his statement, putting his hair down so he could mock Kageyama. You giggled at his antics.

“Alright, change up and meet at the bus in 10 minutes, let’s go!” Coach commanded. Each member voiced their acquiescence. You decided to use this opportunity to go to the bathroom. After all, their match lasted almost an hour, if not more.

In the restrooms, you were almost done when you heard a bunch of girls giggling as they entered. Instead of leaving, you stayed in place, waiting for them to go.

You wish you hadn’t.

“Gosh, those boys are so attractive!” One of them said. Two voices agreed.

“Have you seen Atsumu and Kageyama? They’re both so hot!”

“I was too focused on that number 12,” oh no, “Bokuto, I think? He’s a good looking man, bet he has the stamina of a god, too,”

“Yeah, it’s a shame their brand is ruined by that mascot of theirs.” What?

“Mascot? Oh! You mean the pig? Yeah, she does put a damper on everything, doesn’t she? Imagine being that attractive and having that thing follow you around!” The girl cackled, her friends following suit. You felt your stomach drop, tears springing in the corner of your eyes as you listened to them.

It was easy to forget you were different when you with the team since they made you feel normal, but that didn’t mean others wouldn’t notice you.

The girls eventually left, the door slamming shut behind them. Whether they came in there to do makeup or just talk shit about you knowing you were in there didn’t matter. Not when you were crumpled up on the floor as sobs wracked your frame. Life sucks.

It’s not like you didn’t try! That’s the other thing! You try to lose weight and nothing happens, exercising doesn’t do much and diets are practically useless. You used to go to the gym, but stopped when you kept getting stares. You also used to run with Hinata in the mornings, but since he was so much faster than you, you stopped. What’s the point if you’re panting and breathless after a minute while he’s still going strong after 30 minutes? It felt like nothing would ever help.

A buzzing interrupted your crying fest, you sniffling as you wipe away the tears and look at the screen. It’s from the groupchat, Hinata asking if you’re okay and they were all at the bus. You typed back a quick ‘K’ and got up. The best you could hope for was nobody would point out the red eyes and the sniffling.

Hinata knew of your troubles, being there for you when you broke down in school more often than not. When you confided that he was the first person you felt comfortable with, it broke him. Seeing you had bottled up your emotions because nobody bothered to listen or care, it made him want to include you in his life. He would invite you over for dinner and his sister would excitedly talk to you, never making you feel uncomfortable. When he heard that you were in Osaka, he immediately called you up about being the MSBY manager.

He also knew of your crush on Bokuto. It was obvious to him, with how you looked at the ace with longing. Hinata even encouraged you to confess, but that was quickly dismissed when you told Hinata how you felt like Bokuto deserved better than someone like you. Bokuto was muscular, attractive, and charming — in your eyes, he deserved to be with someone his equal. That did not mean you. Hinata knew of your troubles, but he also knew of Bokuto’s. Bokuto has a crush on you, too, finding himself more accepted with you around. Contrary to the ace’s personality, he was insecure in a lot of things. He wasn’t very smart, which was often pointed out by others. He knew when someone was upset, though, so he always knew he needed to make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the bus, Hinata greeted you as everyone else had boarded. “What’s wrong?”

“The same old thing, you know,” you sniffle, your voice cracking as you remember the hateful words. Hinata’s face soured as you said those words. Back in high school, he would sit down and cry with you. Now, he was tired of you still being picked on as an adult.

“Immature, that’s what they are. Come on, we’re gonna stop by that restaurant you love.” Oh great, food. You may have been starving when the match ended, but after the incident, you just wanted to go home and cry. You numbly nodded and followed Hinata onto the bus. The coach didn’t bother pointing out anything, but he sent you a sad look when he noticed the red eyes on you. You sadly smiled and continued to your seat, behind the coach as the bus started to move. Curling into your jacket, you tried to think of something else.

The restaurant was a disaster. Everyone had been excited and gotten off the bus when a bunch of fangirls came up to them. You had just smiled and shook your head, feeling better already. At least, you had been until the girls noticed you and gave you looks of disgust. It was short lived, their attention turning back to the boys, so you briskly walked off, into the restaurant, away from the crowd. It took almost 5 minutes for the girls to leave, but you refused to eat anything other than a salad and drink water. Even then, you excused yourself to the restroom to take a break, crying and attempting to force yourself to throw up. Once home, you locked the front door and let your emotions spill out. Crying and screaming was common, so that’s what you did. Then came the process — getting rid of any reflective surface. Turning off the lights, turning on the tv, covering the mirrors with sheets, closing the blinds, shutting out any possibility of looking at yourself. Even with nobody around, those words and looks stuck and struck deep, you eventually curling into yourself on your bed as you cried yourself to sleep.

The next day came, your alarm ringing and the sound bouncing off the walls. You turned it off, completely turning off your phone. Instead of dealing with alarms and people, you’d suffer alone behind the comfort of your home.

The team was worried, you were never late. Bokuto was more pouty than normal, your cheerful greeting missing from his morning and his bear hug. Atsumu also missed your cheerful greeting, asking Hinata if he knew of anything. When Hinata said he did not, he texted and called you, receiving no answer.

Okay, then he’d go to you.

Hinata had stayed at your apartment before, spending the night or just to hang out. Sometimes he brings you food and snacks when you need it, or he just checks on you. He has a spare key in case of anything and he’s glad he does when the door’s locked with no answer. He calls you once more time, knocking until he hears something. It’s faint, but it sounds like movement. So, you’re awake. But not answering the door. Sighing, he unlocks the door.

The apartment is not surprising to him, the windows covered and reflective surfaces covered. He was afraid of this, but he continues on. When he reaches your room, he hears more sniffling and crying. “[Y/N]?”

“Leave me be, Shōyō,”

“[Y/N], please. The team misses you,”

“Fuck off. I’m a charity case to them, I know it. Why else would they keep me around? I should just wallow away,” your voice sounds tired, the thought of the boys sticking with you out of pity a common thought you’ve had.

A thought that isn’t true, but breaks Hinata’s heart. “You know that’s not true. Everyone loves you! Even Bokuto,”

“Shōyō, shut up. Empty words do nothing. Maybe it’d be better if I just... stayed here. Maybe I should just end the misery,”

“Do not. Talk like that. Please.” Hinata’s voice cracks with each word. He knew you were bad, but you could pretend like everything was fine. He should’ve known the harsh treatment yesterday would affect you like this. He should’ve spent the night with you when you ordered a salad and a water. He should’ve told the coach or Meian when you went to the bathroom for 10 minutes that you were trying to throw up. Your lie of there being a line was obvious, a common excuse after a long time away. Hinata felt his chest tighten as he realized you didn’t answer him. “I’m getting Bokuto.”

“Shōyō! Don’t you dare!” Your screams do nothing as he basically runs out your apartment, you flinging the door open to see him gone. You start crying more, afraid that Bokuto will see just how pathetic you are. If he ever looked at you with disgust, the way everyone else does, you don’t know if you could continue on with your life.

Maybe it’d be better that way.

Bokuto doesn’t really know what’s going on, one moment he’s stretching and the next he’s running to the train station with Hinata’s words repeating over and over again.

‘[Y/N] needs you’

Bokuto’s first thought immediately went into the gutters, a blush coating his cheeks until Hinata continued.

‘I think she’s in trouble’

With those two sentences, Bokuto ran off, forgetting his bag and just taking his phone with him. He only needed his phone, really. Strange stares from the public didn’t bother him, he knows he’s still wearing his practice clothes and his knee pads, the material looking like leggings. He made it to the train station before it left, getting on and calling Hinata back.

“Bokuto?”

“I’m on the train, is everything okay?” He was panting, the train station being a bit away from the practice gym. He didn’t even bother sitting, just standing beside the doors.

“I don’t know. She’s.. She’s in a bad place. She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you,” Hinata’s words are slightly muffled, sniffling accompanying his sentence. The words make Bokuto’s chest tighten.

“I don’t know what I can do, you’re her best friend. What could I do?”

“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while, actually. I know you can help her where I can’t. Just — I’ll give you her apartment key when you get to the station. Once I do, please go to her. Please,”

“I—“ Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his face definitely pink now. He’s still worried about you, but the idea of you actually liking him — no, loving him the same way he loves you, it makes him giddy. It gives him the push he needs to make it to you.

As soon as the doors open, there’s Hinata, holding a key ring for him to take. Bokuto doesn’t hesitate, a quick nod in Hinata’s direction before he rushes off to your apartment complex. All of the boys have been to your apartment before, but Bokuto and Hinata are the only ones who know the way to the place. Bokuto has gotten a bit drunk before and ended up crashing at your place, as well as just staying there when practices run late since his place is the farthest away from their practice gym.

Arriving at the apartment, he slides the key in and turns the knob, momentarily confused at the sheets covering your glass coffee table and the TV, but he continues in. He knocks on your bedroom door. “[Y/N]? Are you in here?” When he gets no response, he freaks out. Turning the knob, he notices you’re not in there, but there are more sheets covering things, as well as the blinds being shut. Even more confused, he turns back to the hallway and notices the bathroom door is closed. Fear strikes him as he thinks he knows why you’re not answering — he hopes he’s wrong.

When he opens the door, he realizes he was partially right. With a bottle of wine pressed to your lips, an empty pill bottle in one hand, your eyes wide as Bokuto’s golden eyes met yours. A brief moment of anger flashed across his face before you were forced over the toilet, his thick fingers going down your throat.

“Shtap!” Your muffled voice comes out, gagging around his fingers as he attempts to activate your gag reflex. He doesn’t stop, your squirming easily quelled against his strong grip on your arms pinning them back. You feel the bile rise and then you’re expelling the contents of your stomach into the toilet, coughing and sputtering as the painkillers you just took are now emptied into the porcelain bowl. Bokuto doesn’t let go of you as you cry, trying to get out of his hold.

He doesn’t know what he should bring up first, the fact Hinata called him over or the fact he caught you in the middle of a suicide attempt. You’re screaming and telling him to get off of you, but he instead holds you closer, your sobs fading as tears spill out of his own eyes, staining the hoodie you’re in. “Why would you do that?” He whispers.

You don’t know how to respond to that, instead choosing the phrase, “why not?” His face scrunches up and you don’t know if he’s in pain or angry as he shakes you.

“Why would you do that?! Don’t you know how many people would be distraught over you? Hinata would be inconsolable! Who would TsumTsum and I joke with? Did you even think about that? Did you think about me?” His voice is loud and it makes you cry harder, the weight of his words hitting deep. Bokuto’s been there for you through a lot and you’ve been facing all your problems on your own. “You can’t just do that! That’s selfish!”

“Why would it matter, Bo? What’s the point? I can’t face myself let alone face my feelings! Why not just stop hurting?” You’re both crying, him holding onto you tightly as you dry heave a bit, a stinging in the back of your throat and an arrow in your heart.

“Why can’t you face your feelings? You have Hinata and me!” Before you can tell him something else, he presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze. “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me. I don’t think I could live without you,” He dryly chuckles, tears still streaking down his face. You hiccup and look down, afraid to face him.

“You don’t mean that. You’re trying to make me feel better, I know. Just be honest with your feelings. I’m already low enough, no reason to keep up appearances,” more tears come out as you try to not break into another fit. Bokuto would never look at you the same you looked at him, especially not after seeing you like this. You couldn’t blame him, you look like a mess in your old sweatpants and the old hoodie that felt too tight even if it was one of the largest sizes you could find. Your hair is no better, hasn’t been brushed and you’ve been in bed for a while.

“Hinata said you loved me—“

“Stop,”

“So I came because he said he was worried—“

“You don’t need to say it,”

“If I had been a second later—“

“Stop it, please,”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell you my feelings—“

“Please, don’t,” you cover your face, tears blurring your vision anyways. Bokuto removes your hands, looking into your eyes. His own are full of warmth and love, not disgust or regret. It makes you cry more, a horrible wail as you dive into his chest. He laughs as his arms wrap around you, comforting in these dark moments.

“I love you, you know? I have for a while,”

“Why? What do you see in me? What could I possibly have to attract you? I’m not—“

“Don’t say it. Don’t say ‘I’m not like other girls’, because everyone’s different. You make me want to be a better man, you make me excited for each new day. Nobody can compare to you,”

“I can’t.. I’m sorry, I can’t trust you. I’ve— I’ve been made fun of for too long, I want to trust you, I want to love you, I want to be with you, but I don’t know if my heart can take another one,”

“Another— what?”

“It’s a long story, I don’t want to bore you,”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he nuzzles your cheek, more tears spilling out as your chest tightens with love.

You decided to explain to him what happened in the past and how you trusted Hinata. Bokuto brought you to your room and made you some tea, brought a bottle of water, and also made you a snack. The thought of eating made you feel sick, but a pouty buff man had you slowly nibbling on the piece of toast. You hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous day, so you wanted to inhale it, but you didn’t think you could stomach it.

After explaining everything to Bokuto, you tried to laugh it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, but he refused to accept that. A quick call to Hinata to let him know you were okay and that Bokuto would be taking a day off was the next step, letting Bokuto stay with you for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to leave you alone, the fear of almost losing you still making his heart race in a bad way. Even as you just scrolled through InstaGram on your phone, he worried if he left you’d go back to the dark headspace. He couldn’t stop it, but he figured he could prevent it.

The first thing to change your mood is get you in the shower.

When he bounced back into your room, you looked at him from your position. You looked exhausted, the toast only half eaten but the glass was empty. Bokuto shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You need to refresh yourself. Time to take a shower!”

“What are you, my dad? If you want me to do it then make me,” You muttered, snuggling back under the covers. Bokuto closed his eyes and sighed, trying to not say anything sexual.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and into the bathroom. Don’t underestimate me, [Y/N],” the bed dips as he sits on the edge. “I’ll strip you down and wash you if I have to,”

“Why are you so forceful? Damn,” you made it sound like a bad thing, but you were smiling. “Fine, I’ll shower. You don’t gotta wash me, I’m not a baby,”

“But you’re my baby?” He sounded so confused, you freezing half out of the bed. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Uh, sure. Are you planning on leaving soon? Or..”

“Nope! I’m staying over. I’ll change the sheets while you shower, too!”

“Oh, okay,” you say, numbly getting up to get clothes. With the lack of clean clothes, you have a few shirts and some pajama pants, but your stomach twists as you realize why they’re clean. They don’t fit as nicely as the other clothes, so you face two options: reuse the hoodie you’re wearing or face the humiliation of putting on a tight shirt. Thinking of the restriction, you decide the hoodie would be best. A large pair of pajama pants and a pair of panties is all you take, but Bokuto notices the lack of clothes.

“Are you just changing your pants? You’re showering, right?” Hes rifling through his bag, planning on changing out his practice clothes while you’re in the shower. He doesn’t want to get your clean sheets dirty, after all.

“Um, I’m out of shirts, so.. I’ll just reuse the hoodie,” you shrug, not seeing a problem. His eyes light up as he holds a finger up, digging through his bag once more. Apparently, Hinata dropped it off while you were taking a nap, all that crying had exhausted you. Bokuto smiles brightly as he pulls out his own hoodie, the black hoodie with the golden MSBY brand and the Black Jackal claws. “I don’t think—“

“I’ve been dreaming of you in my hoodie for some time, so this is a perfect opportunity! I’d prefer you to wear this,”

“Uh, I’m pretty big, Bokuto. I don’t think it’ll fit, if I’m being honest,” you look down at the ground, the disgust from earlier rising in your chest. Bokuto just tilts his head to the side.

“I think it’ll fit. It’s pretty big on me, so it’ll fit. If it doesn’t, let me know. I’ll get you something else,” he just shrugs, holding out the hoodie. His name is on the back and in a way, it feels like he’s marking his territory. You take it, thanking him as you head towards the bathroom. If it didn’t fit, you didn’t know what you’d do.

When you finished washing up, you put on the clothes. As big as Bokuto was, you still didn’t expect the hoodie to fit. When it slid on easily, you were highly surprised, but also it took you a moment to collect yourself. Seeing you in his hoodie was something out of your wildest dreams, him even telling you he’s fantasized about it making your body hotter than it should be. You had to calm yourself down before exiting the bathroom, entering the bedroom to see him lying on the bed in sweatpants. That’s it.

“Where the hell are your clothes?!” You cover your face, spreading your fingers a bit to see him stand up excitedly.

“You look so good in my hoodie!” He hugged you tightly, lifting you up a bit.

“Don’t pick me up, put on a shirt!” The only thing separating your skin from his was the hoodie which, well, wasn’t very thick. The zipper itself was as high as it could go but still felt too low.

“Why? Don’t I look good? Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, you look good and I’m uncomfortable. This is just a weird situation,” you try to explain... as if you had a shred of dignity left. The laptop propped open with the opening of your favorite movie caught your attention. “Are you gonna watch a movie?”

“We’re gonna watch it! To make you feel better, of course!” He seemed so proud of himself, standing with his fists on his hips as he smiled. You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then. Do you want snacks?”

“Snacks?!”

After getting snacks for the movie, to which he fed you some while you fed him, you ended up falling asleep as you watched the movie. It was nice and warm under the covers and Bokuto’s body heat right next to you helped to lull you to sleep. He didn’t seem to notice you falling asleep until your head hit his shoulder, eyes closed as you peacefully slept. After pressing a kiss to your forehead, he closed to laptop and got comfortable under the sheets. The worry of him losing you was still there, but he kept his arms around you tightly in case it was a dream. Like you, he hoped it wasn’t.

Waking up wasn’t that bad, an urge to quench your dry throat a common thing to wake up to. What wasn’t common, however, was the thing poking your butt. Now fully awake, you tried to shoot up in bed to see what was going on but Bokuto’s arms held you down. It was then you realized what was poking you. Attempting to get his arms off of you was a hard feat, trying to squeeze out of the grip when he moaned. You froze and looked at his face, still asleep. Attempting to move again, he let out another one. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He was having a wet dream. In your bed. Beside you.

Your immediate thought was who? Your next thought was me? You dismissed that idea, rolling your eyes as if that could happen. Well, until your name came past his lips. You were surprised to hear it, even if he showed and attempted to prove his feelings for you. Him dreaming of you subconsciously? It gave you confidence.

Enough confidence to wake him up and let him continue his dream in reality? No.

But, you didn’t think you’d have another dark episode anytime soon. He didn’t seem to relent his grip on your body, so you dealt with it, staring at the wall in the dark as he continued his noises. Well, at least until he bucked his hips. You gasped as he did, him waking up to your noise. “You ‘kay? Somethin’ wrong?”

Wide eyes looked at him, before glancing down and flickering back up. He follows your eyes and his face goes red. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but the moonlight coming in from the uncovered window illuminates enough. “I am so sorry, I’ll le—“

“Why?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, immediately smacking your forehead. He’s a bit confused from your actions, but you continue. “Um, I’d, uh- I’d like to know what you dreaming about.” Confidence? Yeah, right. You’re practically shaking from the fear of his answer. Of course, it was your name but you could’ve heard wrong, right? Yeah, you—

“My boner speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Does he have shame? You just look at him so exasperated as he just stares at you, not too sure what you were expecting. “Or do you not know?”

“I— Okay. Was it me?”

“Who... who else would it be?”

“Oh, okay. Why?” You’re both so confused, you not understanding the appeal while he’s not understanding why it’s so weird. Or confusing.

“Why not? I’m in the bed with my girlfriend, longtime crush, who I find extremely attractive? Is this too much? Is it wrong for me to, um, wanna do that? Or dream about it?” No shame!

“I’m still having problems seeing things from your perspective, but okay. Still cannot see the appealing side of me, so it’s just... it’s weird for me to actually realize you like that. You actually,” you gulp, “like me,”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to, [Y/N]. You’re perfect in my eyes. I want you to see that in your eyes, too,”

“I cannot, if ever, do that. Sorry,” you just shrug, going back to lay down. It isn’t long until he’s straddling you. “What are you doing?”

“I want to make you see things how I do. You gave me this,” he gestured to the bulge in his sweatpants. Looking at it too long scares you, the size scaring you more. “I want you,”

“Oh my god, I’m being dead serious now: you are not gonna like what you see. I’m not attractive, Bo,”

“Let me be the judge of that, hm?” It’s the only thing he says, but you hesitantly nod. He smiles and as much as you want to enjoy it, you’re still shaking. You have no idea what’s coming next, you don’t know what he’s gonna do once he sees what’s underneath and it scares you. So badly. His hands go underneath your—his hoodie, running over your skin. “If you’re scared, I can stop. I don’t want to push you into anything,”

“It’s not that, I just can’t see what you see. But I want to. I want to see myself in your eyes, if you can do that,”

“All you gotta do is give me a signal if you want me to stop. I’ll try my best but you’re gonna have to relax, baby,” he has no idea what his words are doing to you. You just nod as he smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He isn’t rough and excited, but rather gentle and soothing. Hands running under the hoodie eventually go up to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. It’s a small thing, but you notice his eyes flickering to your face for any sign of distress. Evening your breathing, you let him completely pull the zipper down as your skin is completely bare to him. You hide your face in shame, ready to apologize and have a million excuses lined up, but he doesn’t let that happen when he starts licking your chest.

“Oh!” Your hands thread through his hair, softer than you expected as it barely brushes against your skin. His eyes are still on you, your fingers moving his strands away so he could clearly see you and you, him. The way his predatory gaze latches onto your face has heat pooling between your legs, rubbing them together to create some kind of friction. Keeping his tongue connected to your skin, his eyes on yours, he moves onto one of your breasts. Popping your nipple into his mouth, he swirls the perked nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaks your other nipple. You’re panting, your head is thrown back as he continues. Soon enough, just rolling your nipples in between his fingers is not enough.

Gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it dribble onto your skin. It’s warm and slick, when he smears it across your other breast as goes back to tweaking your nipples. You look down at what he’s doing only to find him grinning devilishly at you. He then goes down to your stomach, biting into the flesh there. “Bokuto!”

“What? I just wanna taste you,” he shrugs, before licking the area he bit. He has a lot of spit, too, sucking into your flesh and leaving behind a bite mark and his saliva. It’s.. kind of gross, but hot. When he comes back up to your face, he pushes his lips against yours so forcefully that you’re reeling back, mouth opening as he slips his tongue in. It’s a deep, passionate kiss as he runs his hands over your body, squeezing anything he can as he slips his fingers into your pants. “May I?”

“Of course.” Once he has the okay, he moves back down, occasionally leaving love bites as he does. Pulling down your pants, he finds himself face to face with your damp panties. You don’t have time to get embarrassed, however, when he sticks his nose into your crotch and licks the fabric. “What is up with you and licking?” You giggle, finding humor in it. He just pops back up, shrugging. You giggle again, throwing your head back in the pillows. He goes to pull down your panties, sliding them down your legs until they’re completely off. Except for his hoodie, you’re completely naked.

Now if only you could have his cum in you, then would his wet dream be complete. However, there was one more thing he’s always wanted to try, but he’s worried you’ll be against it. “Babe?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No! Nothing’s wrong!” He hates how your mind immediately goes negative. Your shoulders relax and your wide eyes slowly lessen as you realize nothing wrong, yet. “Um, can you sit on my face?”

“Bokuto, I don’t-“

“C’mon, please? I’ve always wanted to try it! Especially between them delicious thick thighs of yours,” he then licked his lips with a resounding moan. Although embarrassed, you roll your eyes.

“If I’m too heavy, let me know. I’ll— I’ll get off,” you prop yourself up on your hands, feeling his spit ooze down your body. “You have a lot of spit. Reminds me of how much you sweat,”

“I produce a lot of liquids, y’know?” If it wasn’t for his wiggling eyebrows as he widely grins, you would not know he meant it to be sexual.

“Lay down!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he excitedly gets on his back, his bulge much more prominent than before now that it’s just there. You can see it. You’re still hesitant, but eventually move to straddle his face. He helps you, easily maneuvering your dripping cunt over his mouth. With his strong hands, he forces you down on top of him to the point where your legs can’t keep you up. You attempt to get up, afraid you’re crushing him but he keeps you firmly planted on his face.

A growl erupts from his throat when he gets tired of your squirming, you halting your movements as you try to calm down. His thumbs run over the skin of your thighs to try and soothe you. And it works. You’re feeling lightheaded as he sucks and licks your cunt and probably makes it messier than it is. He brushes his teeth over your clit, sending shivers down your spine as you moan from the feeling. With a grin, you can tell, he gets to work on tongue fucking you as well as sucking on your clit. It isn’t long until your fingernails are digging into his abdomen as you let out a high moan as you come undone on his face. He moans himself, using his thick tongue to gather up every ounce you produced. He also makes a loud slurping noise as he cleans it up.

You move off of him, panting as you look at him. He looks absolutely blissed out, like he saw Nirvana and Heaven all at once. You smile at him, his own smile wide and proud. He immediately gets up, pushing hips lips against yours once more as he licks the corners of your mouth. He is quickly moving to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, but hesitates. “You sure you want this?”

“You aren’t allowed to stop now,” you giggle as he glows, pulling down his pants. Your eyes go wide as you realize how big he actually is. The bulge in his pants was nothing. It is scary, you wondering if it’ll fit.

“Everything okay? Do you— Do you not want it?” He sounds so sad, you immediately coo at him, forgetting the third leg he has.

“No, no, no baby! It’s just— you’re very big. I did not expect that. Just be gentle, yeah?”

“Of course!” Another kiss to your lips, this one more of a peck than a passionate open mouthed kiss. “Can you get on your hands and knees?” You listen to him, rolling over on your stomach before getting in position. This way, you don’t have to worry about seeing him and can focus on what he’s doing, so it’s better in a way. Really, Bokuto just wants to end the night with you on your back and he plans on having you shaking from multiple orgasms before it’s over. He guides his cock to your entrance, a shaky breath leave him as his tip brushes against your folds. You shiver yourself, feeling yourself about to cry, but you wait.

Once he pushes into you, the tears come out for a different reason. “I’m sorry, it’ll feel better in a moment,” he licks your cheek, nuzzling you. You nod as you try to relax, him continuing to push into you. It isn’t until he nudged against your cervix does he stop. Even then, he is still not completely in you. He focuses on evening his breathing, inhaling your shampooed hair. It’s hard to not blow his load so quickly, you squeezing him so tightly. You’re nice and snug, though, your walls eventually relaxing as he stays inside.

“You can— you can move, Bo,”

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling out only to roughly thrust into you. You lurch forward from the thrust, immediately dropping your mouth open to moan as he sets a steady pace. It’s not fast or slow, but he’s definitely rough with his thrusts. It’s the grunts that really do you in, the way his hands grab at your ass and hips, sounds of pleasure coming from his as sinks his cock into your cunt that has you tightening around him. With a mewl, you have another orgasm and he curses, a low “shit” coming out as he struggles to pull out. He leans down to put his mouth next to your ear, biting the shell as he continues. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he does, stilling himself deep inside you as he lets out a low groan, your eyes scrunch together as you whimper. His cum fills you up to the brim, his hips swiveling to make sure he’s all done.

Well, for that round.

You’re panting heavily as he leaves you, leaning back as he watches your legs shake. His cum oozes out of you, your cunt clenching as it makes more pour out. It’s a beautiful reality, but he wants more. You’re soon flipped onto your back as he is over you again, his hands on the back of your knees, pushing them up. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not a very comfortable position, either. Confusion is etched in your face as he does, but his lidded eyes as he licks his lips tell you he’s not done. You’re exhausted, but he’s not.

He wastes no time in sinking himself back into you, his eyes focused on your face as you moan. His grin is almost evil, the way his lips stretch as he bottoms out inside you before roughly thrusting into you. It didn’t take long for another orgasm to start to buildup in you, your head thrown back as your back arches, your head turned to the side as he leans down to lick and bite your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His hands find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he brings them up to your head. You focus on the way his arms flex, the muscles bulging with each thrusts as he puts every ounce of effort into the action. It really shows to how much he loves you and your body.

Even with all the marks on your body, even with all the places he’s touched and licked, that gnawing thought of you worrying nags him. The thought that you’ll still not know just how much he loves you. The thought that you’ll think it was a one time thing. He needs to know you know. He needs to know you’re seeing things in his perspective now. One hand leaves yours, it finding itself around your throat.

“Say my name,” he grunts, alternating his gaze between your face and his cock disappearing inside you. It’s something he’ll never get over. Maybe next time, he can record you two.

“B-Bo—“

“No, my given name. I want you to scream it,” his grip on your neck gets tighter, your walls tightening at the same time. He groans as he throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he drags his cock against your walls. “I want your neighbors to know who’s fucking you,”

“You, Kōtarō!” You loudly moan, humming in pleasure as he picks up the pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Who does your little cunt belong to?”

“God, you! It belongs to Kōtarō!” You scream, your eyes rolling back as his hands go back to under your knees, pushing them up to your chest. It’s hard to breathe, but you’re clamping down on his cock as a sheen of white forms around it, your slick dripping down your ass and down his balls. The last urge he needed to fuck you like an animal was that, you screaming his name. Your ands wrap around his neck, the material of his jacket rubbing against his thick neck as your nails take down his back. Hissing, he fucks you faster and harder, determination set to get you to one more orgasm. It doesn’t take long, your mouth hanging open as you come undone for one last time, him burying himself as far as he can as he spills another load into you. It’s heavy and fulfilling, but it’s wonderful. A wonderful feeling of being loved.

As you both come down from your highs, he gives you another sloppy kiss. Instead of pulling out, he released your legs and lays on his side, taking you with him.

“Shouldn’t we clean up?”

“That can wait. I don’t wanna leave quite yet,” he pants out, another sloppy kiss. Like he can’t get enough.

Really though, he can’t. He loves you too much

[the-bau-quinjet]

You Belong With Me

Chapter 5 of In Breakable Heaven!! 

Summary: Penelope has a Halloween party!

Warnings: none 

Word Count: ~3100

You woke up slowly, not realizing you were on the couch with another human. As usual, you tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but instead of landing on the other side of your bed you land squarely on the floor between your couch and coffee table. Spencer shifted on the couch to look down at you as the two of you burst into laughter.

“Are you okay?” He struggled to get the words out through the laughter. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” Finally managing to stand up, you grab the trash from the night before and throw it out. Spencer grabs the dishes from behind you and loads them into the dishwasher. You are about to offer Spencer some breakfast when he breaks the silence.

 “I should probably get going, but, uh, I can’t find my phone.” You can’t help but smile at the dejected look on his face.

 “It probably sunk into the couch, here” you hand him your phone “You can call it while I look under the cushions.” He takes your advice, dialing his phone and holding yours up to his ear.

 “It’s ringing.” You can hear it begin to vibrate as you remove cushions from the couch. “Got it!” You hold the phone up victoriously, answering the call. “Hello Doctor. What can I do for you?” You can’t help but tease him a little. He hangs up your phone, trading it for his. 

“Thank you. I really do have to go, but I’m really glad I got to see you again.” “Me too. I mean, I don’t have to go. I live here. I just meant I’m really happy I got to see you again too. And now you have my phone number, so we can talk more!” You force yourself to stop rambling before you say something even more embarrassing. 

He just grins at you, glad to not be the one rambling for once, and waves goodbye as he says “I’m looking forward to it.”

 --

 Around 4 PM a couple days later, you get a text from Spencer. You two had been texting pretty consistently since he left your apartment. But this text feels like a birthday gift from up above when you read the five simple words. Not that you would tell him today is your birthday. That would be weird to just randomly bring up.

 From Spencer: “Are you busy right now?”

 To Spencer: “Nope. I just got back from the bookstore.”

 It takes what feels like eternity for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, he is pacing his apartment, working up the nerve to press send.

 From Spencer: “Do you want go see a movie? There’s a new Scream that just started in theaters and since Halloween is right around the corner, I thought it might be fun.”

 You can’t help but squeal a little when you read and reread the message.

 To Spencer: “I would love to! I love Halloween.”

 From Spencer: “Great, I can pick you up at 5?”

 To Spencer: “See you then”

 You instantly drop what you were working on to get ready. You have to pick out something to wear that says you’re interested but isn’t too much for going to see a movie. You decide on a pair of dark wash jeans, black combat boots, and a light sweater that ties in the back. It’s cute, comfy, and very fall. Just as you finish your mascara, you hear a knock on your door. You grab your purse and swing it open to find Spencer standing there in a black button up, dark jeans, a maroon cardigan, and of course, black converse. He looks incredible. You can feel the blush on your cheeks as he looks at you. “Ready to go?”

 “Yep, just let me grab my keys.” And with that, the two of you are walking back down to his car. You arrive to the theater 15 minutes before the movie, the perfect amount of time to get some snacks! You insist on buying the popcorn and sweet treats since he bought the tickets. You make your way into the theater and see it’s mostly empty except for a few people in the back. You find two seats in the middle and sit down. You’re honestly a little nervous because even though you love scary movies and haunted houses, you still get freaked out pretty easily. The scare is why you love it, but also why you’re nervous.

 “Are you okay?” Spencer’s question cuts off your train of thought. 

You decide to answer honestly “yeah, I love scary movies. I just… get scared… Wow that was stupid.” You can feel the blush creeping up again as you try to come up with a better way of describing it.

 “That’s not stupid at all. It’s really all because of adrenaline and other fear induced hormones. It is common for people to seek out adrenaline inducing situations because the brain itself won’t determine how much danger you are in. It only recognizes the fear and produces adrenaline to combat it.” You inadvertently cut him off when you hug him, muttering a quiet thank you. He’s too distracted by the scent of your perfume to continue on about adrenaline.  

 Ten minutes in and the movie hasn’t been that bad yet. You can’t tell if you’re disappointed or glad you aren’t screaming like crazy. Just as you let your guard down, there’s a jump scare that has you grabbing Spencer’s arm for safety. He laughs, seemingly unfazed by the cheap scare, and shifts so he is holding your hand. “Just squeeze my hand when you’re scared” he whispers in your ear. You feel the butterflies again as you nod at him. You squeeze his hand on and off throughout the rest of the movie, blushing when his thumb starts to rub circles on your hand.

 When the movie is over, the two of you decide to go across the street to a diner for some real dinner. You are right in the middle of eating breakfast for the third time that day when both your phones go off. Glancing down, you see a text from Penelope.

 From PG: “Y/N!! I am having an impromptu Halloween party and I do not want to hear it that you are too busy. Get your butt over here by 9!!”

 To PG: “You got it! Costume?”

 From PG: “Of course! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 You look up at Spencer “Penelope’s party?” You immediately try to think of a costume you can pull together from what you’ve got at home. It’s already October 27th, but you hadn’t planned a costume yet. 

“Yep, I guess I have to go find a costume.” Spencer replies, running his hands through his hair. 

“Same here. I have no idea what I’m going to wear.”

 “I can drop you back at your apartment if you want? So you can get ready.” You sigh, he is obviously right but you were hoping the night would last a little longer. 

“That would be great, thank you.” At least you know you’ll see him soon.

 Getting ready goes a lot easier than you anticipated. You pull together a young, country Taylor Swift costume with denim cutoff shorts, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, a navy tank top, and a matching flannel. You decide to grab your acoustic guitar just to add to the look. It’ll work. You finish your makeup and leave in a hurry. Penelope is not one to be kept waiting.

 You get to Penelope’s apartment at 9:02. “What took so long? I thought you would be right over after I texted.” She scolded as she opened the door.

 “I wasn’t home, so I had to go home and throw together a costume” you laugh as she looks you up and down, doing a little twirl. She looks you in the eye before confirming your costume “Country Taylor Swift, not bad.”

 “Why thank you! Might I add you make an incredible vampire!” You say, lifting your hat off your head. Penelope just rolls her eyes and opens the door wider for you to come in. You immediately spot the rest of the team as other the other guests. Emily, Derek, JJ – who brought Will - Hotch, and Rossi. You didn’t know them all that well, but apparently you made a good impression since you were invited back. You aren’t sure if Spencer has told them anything about the two of you hanging out, so you decide not to say anything either. Instead, you admire everyone’s costumes.

 Emily is dressed as Black Widow in a tight all leather getup. Derek matches Penelope’s vampire costume, something you are sure she made him wear. JJ and Will make an adorable Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. You are still trying to figure out Hotch and Rossi’s costumes when you hear them arguing. “I am very clearly a chef. Look at my hat.” Rossi says as he emphatically points to his head.

 “And I am from Men in Black.” Hotch declares. You are sure he is glaring from behind those sunglasses. They all turn and greet you when you get close enough.

 “Who are you dressed as?” Derek asks as he looks you up and down.

 “She’s clearly a young TS. The only thing missing is the signature curly blonde hair.” JJ looks shocked that Derek couldn’t put that together.

 “Ooh, since you’re dressed as a singer, you have to go first in karaoke. We can’t start until everyone is here though. Penelope’s rules.” Emily declares.

 “I guess I need a drink then!” You laugh as you head to the kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of white wine, not understanding how anyone can enjoy the vinegar like taste of the red, and walk back into the living room.

 You immediately spotted Spencer. He was wearing a loose white button up with puffy sleeves, a black vest, black jeans, and he had a red bandana tied around his head. Plus, he was carrying a prop sword. The converse didn’t really match, but you could still figure out the look. He was the dorkiest pirate you have ever seen and you loved it. Derek was giving him a hard time, but before you could do anything Emily was pulling you over to the karaoke machine.

 “It’s time to start karaoke!!” She was clearly a little tipsy, but you did not feel nearly drunk enough to sing in front of these people. You downed your wine, earning some whistles, and put the glass on the coffee table.

 “Emily! I have no idea what to sing.” You tried to protest.

 “Nonsense, you can sing a Taylor Swift song.” JJ chimed in “Something from an old album since your dressed country!”

 Emily immediately started a song before you could protest anymore and you were singing almost immediately.

 You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset.

 ‘At least it’s an easy song to perform’ you thought to yourself, having done it what felt like a million times. But they don’t know that. Before you knew it, the girls were all singing the end of the song with you.

 Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.

 You chanced a glance at Spencer as you finished the song. You refused to look at him before that, knowing he would make you too nervous. Before you had a chance to comprehend the look on his face, Derek inadvertently interrupted the moment “Y/N you’ve been holding out on us. That was great!” He said. The others joined in on the praise as you turned red. You managed to squeak out a “thanks” before retreating to fill your wine glass. Spencer met you in the kitchen.

 “That really was an amazing performance. You should consider switching careers.” You laughed at his comment, it was pretty comical considering your side hobby. “No really. You would be amazing.”

 You turned even redder with the compliment. “Thanks Doc, I appreciate the confidence boost.” You almost told him then and there, but ultimately you were being called back to the living room to hear Rossi sing Bon Jovi.

 The night continued much the same until Penelope broke off into the kitchen. You were going to follow her, but Rossi pulled you back into a conversation and you missed the chance. Soon enough she was returning with a huge birthday cake. At first, you were shocked. Then you realized she was the Penelope Garcia. Figuring out someone’s birthday is child’s play to her.

 Then you were shocked again, because everyone was singing to Spencer. Apparently it was after midnight and his birthday is October 28th.

 Once everyone has a piece of cake, you walk up to Spencer hitting him on the arm, “Why didn’t you tell me today is your birthday?” 

He deflects the question easily.  “Today only just started, so I really didn’t have time. Plus you haven’t told me when your birthday is.”

 You instantly freeze at that. You can’t possible tell him your birthday was yesterday. That would be so awkward. He immediately senses the tensions and asks “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You practically run out of the room calling “yep I’m fine, all good, 100% a-o-kay.”

 Spencer, confused by your quick exit, decided to look at your license to figure out your birthday. Maybe he could surprise you with something. Realization dawned on his features as he read the date, seeing that your birthday was yesterday.

 --

 You were relieved when Spencer didn’t chase after you to figure out exactly why you practically sprinted away from the conversation. You decided to just enjoy the rest of the party.

 Around 2 AM everyone was heading out. You hung back a little since Spencer hadn’t left yet, hoping you’d be able to walk out with him. God, you feel like a teenager again. Secretly crushing on a guy who clearly only likes you as a friend. Ugh.

 “Y/N!” You break out of your pitying thoughts to see Penelope and Spencer standing in front of you. Great. How long were you just staring at the ground? “You okay?” Penelope asks, looking at you with clear concern.

 “Yeah, I’m just tired. You threw quite the party!” You tried to joke to clear the air. “Thanks for inviting me, Pen.” You hugged her as you looked around for your purse, grabbing it off the chair. Spencer has been staring at you with a contemplative look on his face during the whole encounter.

 “I’ll see you soon, right?” You looked back as you opened the door. “Of course, my lovely!” Penelope smiled as you and Spencer left, him calling a quick goodbye as he walked out after you. You didn’t say anything until you noticed Spencer was walking towards your apartment with you.

 “What are you doing?” Ugh, real subtle. What kind of a question is that?

“Walking you home. It’s my birthday, you can’t say no.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, but there was something serious in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say your birthday was yesterday? We could have celebrated!” He seemed genuinely confused.

 “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never been the kind of person who does well with all that attention. My birthday was never a huge deal growing up, so I haven’t really made a big deal out of it now. Pen wanted a Halloween party, not a birthday party. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” You couldn’t make eye contact with him. You’ve never really talked about these insecurities with anyone.

 “First of all, she clearly didn’t mind having a party for both because she had a birthday cake for me. I am completely sure that she would have decorated it for both of us had she known. Second, you deserve to have people make a big deal. You are an incredible person, Y/N. You are extraordinarily kind, selfless, and beautiful.” He pauses for a second before pulling something out of his bag. “I didn’t know your birthday was even in October, but I bought these a few days ago. I was going to give them to you after the movie, but then Garcia called and we split up. If you don’t like them I can take them back I just thought since you twist your earrings around so much, maybe they were bothering you and maybe a new pair would help. Penelope actually helped me pick them out, although she doesn’t know that. She just mentioned how she thought you would like them when we were at the farmer’s market.”

 Tears sprung to your eyes as you realized how much thought he must’ve put into this. You couldn’t help but throw yourself into a hug whispering “thank you, Spence. That is so thoughtful.” He rubbed your back until you stepped back from the hug. You opened the box to find a pair of dainty white gold earrings. One was a moon and the other a star. “They are beautiful.” You whispered into his ear as you pulled him in for another hug.

Stepping back again, the two of you made your way to your apartment. Upon arrival, you confessed, “I actually have something for you too. It’s upstairs though, so you have to come inside.” He smiled as you pulled him into your building.

 “I obviously didn’t know your birthday is today, but you told me about breaking your watch and when I saw this in the store window I thought of you and it just looked perfect.” You watched as he slowly opened the watch box, pulling out a simple brown leather band with a white watch face surrounded by a silver casing. It honestly screamed Dr. Spencer Reid. The watch face isn’t too modern and the leather band matches his satchel.

 “Y/N, it’s perfect. Thank you.” He closed the box, hugging you to say thank you. Looking into his eyes, you realized with 100% certainty you are falling for Dr. Spencer Reid. “Let’s go to sleep” is all you can say in response. You pull him into the bed and snuggle as close as you dare, too afraid to say anything else when you don’t know how he feels. The two of you drift into a restful sleep, not even bothering to change from your costumes.

 --

 You wake up due to the muffled voice of Spencer in the kitchen. You can smell the coffee, so you quickly change into some pajamas before walking out to join him. He glances at you apologetically while you pour the coffee into two mugs, adding equal amounts of sugar to both.

 As soon as he hangs up, he’s hugging you goodbye. “I’m so sorry, we have a case. We are supposed to be at the jet in 30 minutes.”

 “Don’t worry about it Doc. Go save the world.” You decide to listen to Superman on repeat for an hour while you clean.

tag list: 

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat

[amatchinwater]

Did a little thing for Day 2 of Stackson Week 2021!

Day 2: Trapped together

Pairing: Stackson

Warnings: underage drinking

Word count: 2709

Rating: teen and up

Ao3 link

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to have a party at Lydia’s lake house in the middle of hurricane lever rain and a goddamn flood warning. What’s even worse is he’s the first person to show up! Lydia herself isn’t even here yet. The banshee was kind enough to tell him where they put the hide-a-key so he could get in and out of the storm. Scott and Isaac aren’t picking up or answering his texts. If they’re not here because they’re too busy fucking and Stiles has to be here soaked and alone, he’s going to kill them.

When Stiles gets in the house, he stomps his shoes on the mat to not track in any mud. Lyds would castrate him for that, so he takes them off just to be safe. Slipping out of his jacket, Stiles hangs it on the hook, careful not to let it drip anywhere other than the little rug underneath it. The house is empty and eerily dark. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? He’s the only fucking one here. Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles’ preturbrance only grows. 

It doesn’t even look like the place is meant to house a party in the next twenty minutes. Nothing is set up. There isn't a single bag of chips or other snacks on the counter. No pizzas and sandwich platters like her birthday. A keg is not beside the island either. Just two bottles of wine with a sticky note that reads-

“Have fun?” 

Oh my god! Stiles jumps and flails, nearly knocking the bottles over on the counter. 

“What kind of fucking game is she playing?” Jackson snatches the note, rereading it before flicking it back towards the island. 

Still clutching his wildly beating heart, Stiles gasps, “could you maybe announce yourself next time?” He collects himself- mostly. “Not all of us have your little wolf senses. You almost gave me a heart attack, you fuck.” 

Jackson snorts and almost playfully bumps him with his shoulder. “Not my fault you left the front door unlocked, Stilinski.” 

Fuck this. “I’m leaving.” Stiles stalks back towards the front door, yanking his jacket off the hook and grabbing his shoes. Whipping the open the door, the teen groans loudly, dropping his head back, “you’ve got to be kidding me!” 

“What are you bitching about now?” The wolf steps beside him and looks outside, his eyes widen drastically. “Holy shit!”

The lake has officially overflown since they’ve shown up and the driveway is at least three inches deep with water. Jackson’s care looks like it’s barely  capable of surviving if it gets too high. Stiles almost cares enough to wonder if they should move it. This fucking storm! Now he’s stuck here with nowhere to go. Yes, he has a jeep, but the road out is no doubt a muddy mess that even Roscoe can’t navigate. 

Closing the door and putting his clothes back where they were, Stiles whines, “why would she pick today to do this?” Thinking about the weather his dad forced him to watch this morning. Most cities were calling in downed power lines and massive branches flying through the streets. 

She knew this storm was coming. So much so that Lydia even reminded him to wear his boots rather than his sneakers. “I guess I better call Scott, tell him not to come. No use in him getting stuck in the woods like this.” Sures, having his best friend here would make this exceptionally better. But Stiles doesn’t want to break up any fights between a stir crazy Jackson and Isaac. Fishing in his pocket, Stiles pulls out his phone and smashes the call button in annoyance. 

“Stiles, hey. I’m sorry I did-” Scott answers on the second ring only to be cut off by Stiles.

“I don’t care if you and Isaac were fucking,” Jackson chuckles at his jab. “Don’t come to Lydia’s. The lake flooded and now Jackson and I can’t leave.” 

“Okay,” Scott draws out the word and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken sounds a little confused. Jackson’s brows knit together at the response too. Okay, so it did sound weird then. “I’m sorry you’re stuck there, dude. But maybe this will be a good thing?”

Is he serious? “How the fuck is it supposed to be a good thing to be stuck in a goddamn house with someone who hates my guts?” Stiles’ hand slaps his thigh in exasperation. Not to mention the asshole in question was hotter than hell fire and makes it incredibly hard to be in the same room with him. Not thinking about that when Jackson can smell his chemosignals. 

“Well,” Scott drawls, “you did say you had a crush on him.” Stiles blanches and goes stalk still, forgetting how to fucking breathe. Jackson snorts beside him. Stiles is going to kill Scott. “Oh my god! He’s right next to you, isn’t he?”

“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles makes a point to stare at the floor and not at the shuffling wolf beside him. “Well, thanks for getting me killed. Great best friend job, truly. See ya probably never, Scotty.” He promptly hangs up before Scott can answer. 

“So,” Jackson purrs and Stiles can’t help but turn and face the wolf. His arms are crossed from where he leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him. Jackson’s face holds that stupid, sexy, douchbag smirk, “you like me?”

He’s not even going to entertain that. Stiles squints at him with his mouth slightly parted. It only makes Jackson chuckle. “I need a drink,” Stiles uses every ounce of self control not to literally run away and back into the kitchen. Sifting through the drawers until he finds the corkscrew, Stiles grabs a bottle. Once the cork is out- that actually had already been opened- Stiles could give fuck all about a glass. He takes a sip directly from the bottle, regretting it at the extensive bitter taste of wolfsbane.

Clearly that one’s for Jackson. He’s courteous enough to slide the wine across the island when Jackson is back in the room. The wolf stares at him as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece and drinks from it, not giving a damn to wipe it after Stiles’ drank first. The other boy just watches before his brain recovers and he opens his own bottle. Setting the cork and opener aside, Stiles grabs the wine and leaves the wolf in the kitchen to go sit in the living room where Lydia keeps the playstation. 

Plopping on the couch, Stiles lets himself sink into the cushion and takes several swigs. Actually rather enjoying the slight burn and the warmth that quickly settles in his belly. He can very easily just sit here and watch tv like Jackson doesn’t even exist. Stiles can go to literally anywhere else to be away from the wolf if need be. He cannot believe that Jackson found out he likes him. 

Fucking Scott.

It takes a few minutes for Jackson to join him. Stiles already has Supernatural playing and has killed a good third of his wine before the wolf is sitting next to him. Like right next to him. One nervous leg bounce and their thighs or knees will touch. Seriously? Lydia has two couches, a chaise lounge, and two armchairs in her living room. So why is he so close?

Scratch that initial thought. There’s like six other rooms in this big ass house that Jackson could’ve gone to. Why here? Stiles drinks more. 

Jackson takes another small sip, looking like he’s barely drank anything from his own bottle before saying, “I have a secret to tell you.” 

He fights the eyeroll only just, “what information could you possibly have that I would care about?” Amber eyes stay glued to the flat screen.

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock interest. Even though there’s something tickling at his heart that Jackson didn’t call him ‘idiot’ or ‘Stilinski’. He can’t allow himself to fall for the wolf’s tricks. He won’t let the rug get yanked out from under him. 

“Quite the opposite actually.” 

Stiles snorts and turns to make some smart ass retort. But his ‘yeah right’ gets stuck on his tongue finding Jackson’s face mere inches from his own. He gulps. Clearing his throat, Stiles takes a big sip before putting his bottle on the small table beside him. Too fuzzy and warm to process this, Stiles scooches until he’s pressing against the armrest. 

Jackson also places his bottle on the coffee table before sliding closer. Forcing Stiles to half turn into the couch while the wolf puts an arm on either side of him, completely encasing Stiles. “I like you,” he presses further, “a lot.” Jackson leans in until their noses brush, “tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Blame the wine. Blame his hormones for not wanting him to stop. Hell, blame everyone and everything, Stiles included. But he does have a massive crush on Jackson. Even though he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. The guy’s a prick. He has no problem letting people know that he’s better than them. Making damn sure to flaunt his money too. As if that makes him hotter or something. It doesn’t. 

No, it’s the icy blue eyes that make Stiles want to learn their secrets and harvest the knowledge. The wolf’s stupid jaw that’s perfect and Stiles just wants to bite it. He;s seen Jackson naked numerous times- thank you locker room shower’s forgotten concept of privacy. But god damn, when Jackson smiles- not his asshole smirk, but genuine smile- Stiles’ lungs and knees forget how to function. Despite his actions earlier, the teen is actually pretty happy to be stuck here. 

Only acting as though he hates Jackson because he was simply following the wolf’s lead. His eyes flick to Jackson’s bottle of wine- its contents too hard to see in the dark green glass from this distance- and back to hooded baby blues. There’s only two reasons Stiles can believe that this is actually happening right now.

Jackson’s drunk. Because Stiles doesn’t understand the extent in which wolfsbane affects werewolf's tolerance. Which would mean the ex-kanima has no idea what he’s doing and should go sleep it off. Stiles hopes it’s this because the latter is just too painful. 

Jackson’s fucking with him. Surely he doesn’t have actual feelings for Stiles. Maybe the wolf found out he’s bi and wanted to tease him about it. Although, something tells him that Danny would murder Jackson if he ever found out. Still. This is Stiles. Lowest on the lacrosse totem pole and not the wolf’s best friend. Is Jackson that cruel though?

Beautiful, parted pink lips get closer, so Stiles whispers, “you’re just drunk,” and turns his head away, hoping that’s the case here. Waiting for the joke to play out.

“I’m really not.” Jackson reaches over to grab his drink. There’s maybe three sips missing when he dangles the bottle for proof. “See?” The wolf puts it back, returning with a smirk and a cocked brow, “now will you let me kiss you?” Jackson chuckles, it’s a breathy sound, but doesn’t make to move closer. Leaving it to Stiles.

He’s not falling for that trap. The prove-to-me-you-want-it-so-I-can-kick-you-down trap by making Stiles lean in. “So you’re fucking with me then?” He should’ve known better. 

The other boy looks confused and a little offended. Jackson leans back farther, still sitting close, but no longer in Stiles’ personal space. He actually wants him to come back, but how could he ever tell the wolf that when this is just a game? “Why would I fuck with you about this?” Jackson’s voice is soft and full of so much emotion that Stiles almost believes him. 

“Uh, because that’s what you do?” Stiles gestures wildly like it should have been obvious. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not even friends. You were literally my bully when we were kids. I don’t- and i-it only got worse when I developed a crush on Lydia. Which I get, she was your girlfr-”

“What’s not why I was a dick.” The wolf cuts him off with a shake of his head. Stiles squints an eye at him, mouth still hanging open from the word that didn’t finish. “I was jealous.” 

“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?” Stiles scoffs and Jackson ducks his head with a chuckle. “Lydia never even looked at me while you were together.” 

Jackson flashes a bemused grin when he looks back, “I was jealous of Lydia, you idiot.” The name usually bitten out comes with a tone that suggests it’s meant to be a term of endearment. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t fawning over you like your little fan club, okay? My bad. You’re right, you’re incredibly hot and I should’ve stroked your ego by putting you some fucking pedestal-” Jackson swallows whatever other words and the surprised squeak from Stiles’ lips. He stares bug eyed at the wolf’s closed eyes. Jackson presses closer, his hand cupping the other boy’s cheeks while his tongue slides against Stiles’ bottom lip. Entrance isn’t given, he can’t really, Stiles is too shocked to do so. 

The wolf pulls away, still holding Stiles’ face, “I didn’t care that you thought she was attractive.” Jackson drops a hand and lifts his hips, pulling one of Stiles’ legs until the human gets the massage and- for some fucking reason- lays on the couch. The wolf’s hips immediately settle into the space created and Stiles can feel just how much Jackson wants this. Him. “I wanted to be the one you had a crush on because of the massive one I have on you.”

That’s a lot to process. If Jackson liked him then- “why did you make my life hell?” 

Jackson’s free hand falls to Stiles’ hip, rubbing softly and the other props himself on the armrest behind Stiles’ head. “I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I suddenly like guys. Well, a guy.” The wolf sighs, “Lydia knew and agreed to keep my secret as long as I needed her to. I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

Stiles has never seen him act so soft. Having Derek as an Alpha and a proper back must really be working for Jackson. It makes him charming in a way that his jerk persona never could. Being emotionally balanced and all that. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time. And I’ll know if you’re lying. So don’t do me any favors and don’t hide from me either.” The warning is evident. Don’t say it and not mean it. And don’t mean it but not day it. Otherwise he’ll walk. “Will you please, let me fucking kiss you?” 

Stiles fists his fingers in the wolf’s shirt- half expecting Jackson to snap at wrinkling his expensive clothes- to push him away or pull him closer, the other boy really doesn’t know. Until his arm moves of its own volition and Jackson’s mouth gets drawn to him. 

The wolf chuckles against his lips, “finally.” The hand on his hip grips tighter and the other comes back to his jaw. Jackson tilts his head up to deepen the kiss. Jackson kisses like he wants to swallow Stiles whole. Maybe he does. Maybe Stiles would let him. Panting he pulls away again, and the other teen bites back a whine. “I have one more question and then I promise I’ll shut up.”

The human playfully rolls his eyes, “what is it?”

“Be with me.” Jackson states. Stiles cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, that wasn’t really a question. But his heart skips a beat nonetheless at the implication of the wolf’s words. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Stiles is nodding before the request is completely out of Jackson’s beautiful face. “Fuck yeah, dude.” The wolf breathes out a laugh at the ridiculousness. “Now just kiss me. Please?” 

“Whatever you want,” Jackson grins and presses his body in further, claiming Stiles’ lips as his own. 

Stiles is now stupidly happy about this storm locking them in Lydia’s lake house. He got a boyfriend out if. 

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.28

a/n: aye have mixture of fluff and angst~ sorry for uploading late :c MY SCHEDULE IS SUCH A KILLER I CANNOT STRESS IT ENOUGH huhuhu

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27, part 29

Masterlist to my other fics: here :) (that has not been updated for how many months now... proceed with caution~)

“Is that really you, Inspector (l/n)?” The hero asked. With each step she took, you made sure Chisaki’s face wouldn’t be seen. “It’s late.”

“Hey, Enigma~” Lowering his head to rest on your shoulder, you smiled at the small quiet hero. “It is late~ We’re not causing a disturbance are we?”

“Of course not! But I don’t think this is the place to be…” She scratched her cheek and avoided your eye contact. “You know…”

“I know~ I apologize. He’s typically busy and we don’t get to hang out much.” You patted his back and continued. “He’s also very shy and doesn’t like to be seen in public.”

“Oh! I’m very sorry! But, if you don’t mind, would it be alright if the both of you continued elsewhere?”

“It’s fine! We were just going separate ways.” You consoled her and knew that her reaction was safe enough. At least you were fast enough to cover his face. “I told you, Shinoda-san. Heroes patrol these times of the night.”

“Forgive my rash decision.” He rested his head on your shoulder. Embarrassed that he had been this close to kissing you. Disappointed that it was barely a few centimeters and yet even such trivial things like these, the heroes would always disturb him. For now, all he could do was to wrap his arms around your body.

“Don’t wear your mask.” You whispered to him. He merely hummed. Gliding your hands on to his chest, he looked at you with cautiously eager eyes. Feeling how you pushed him he let you lead the way till the hood of his car hit thighs. “Enigma’s gone. You can turn around now.”

“I apologize for my actions.” Overhaul said as he took out his mask and wore it. “I was not expecting those bastards to roam this area at night.”

“You come here often?”

“Many years back. That apartment building, the third one.” He pointed it out. “Before the Shie Hassaikai was established, Kurono and I used to live there.”

“Wait, wait, wait… You and Chrono were roomies?” You stared at your companion, to the building, and back at him. A small pang of pain hit your forehead just as he had overhauled his glove back. “Well, no need to flick me, Chisaki.”

“Whatever it is your mind was thinking, no. We weren’t roomies.” He pinched your cheek and leaned on to the hood. “Neighbors. Pops owns that building. It’s one of the properties not involved with my business.”

“You know, I’d ask but perhaps we can schedule another meeting for that.” You took the vacant area beside him. With a bit of space in between, you placed your hand beside his. Just a reminder that the invitation still remains open.

“Of course.” Looking at your figure beside him, he furrowed his brows and shook his thoughts away. “Then again, we really should go separate ways. I hate having to take my mask off.”

“You know, you don’t have to take it off when you’re with me.” Elbowing him gently, you chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I like looking at your face. I just don’t want people to see you. Especially not with how things are going.”

“Nah.” Not expecting that word to come out of his mouth, the both of you met eyes at the same time. Adjusting the cloth, he tried to hide the slowly creeping heat on his cheeks. “You’re rubbing off on me, (y/n). That aside, it isn’t really bothersome if I take it off when you’re around. Your expressions are worth breathing the horrid air.”

“Ugh. Smooth talker.” You pouted. Taking a peak at your watch, the time was now quarter to one. As much as you wanted to stay and get to know more of the man behind the name, he was right. Flinching at the sudden weight on your hand, you looked down and found his on top of yours.

The kiss may not have happened but if it were compensated with this small act of intimacy then perhaps it wasn’t that bad. Carefully interlacing your fingers, you were more than relieved when he moved along and held on to your hand tightly. Maybe it was fine if you were to lean on to his arm and rest your head on his shoulder?

Just as you were about to attempt, Chisaki pulled you closer to him.

“You’re too obvious…” He said as he rested his head on yours. “We already have to leave in a few minutes. If you won’t do it then I will.”

“I swear this feels like a fever dream…” You commented earning a ruffle to the hair with his free hand. “Alright, alright. It’s real. You better not bug me Chisaki or I swear I will block you.”

“Well, now that this has happened, shall we take our leave now?”

“Is it bad to say that I’d rather stay here?”

“Are you suggesting we sleep in the car?” He poked your cheek.

“And have you drowned in your car’s germs? I’d rather not.” Standing up straight, you took a few steps and only then realized he still had not let go of your hand. “If you don’t let go, I’ll have to rethink sleeping in the car. And frankly speaking, sleeping in cars is not the most comfortable experience.”

“Right again.” Letting go of your hand, he too stood up. “In that case, I shall send a message when I get back to the base.”

“And I’ll message you when I arrive home.”

“Fair trade.”

To which you did not. Right after both your cars went separate ways, your phone vibrated with a message from Tsukuachi. Parking at the nearest allowable area, you grabbed your device and read the message. Rereading the text, you clicked dial.

“Are you for real?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to read it now.” He stifled a yawn and continued. “Unfortunately yes. If you can drop by the precinct, I can hand them over to you so you can get a head start.”

“Nao, it’s 1am.”

“And yet here we are, talking on the phone like the rats we are.”

Letting out a sigh, you ended the call. Rubbing your face, you leaned your head on the steering wheel and stared at your hand. Chewing on your lip, you began to recall the moment that had happened a mere minutes ago. Being able to hold his hand out in public had a different tingle.

Not long after, you were now seated beside Tsukauchi. Accepting the small cup of coffee, you waited as he filed through some documents. Taking small peaks at some of the letters, you saw how some names of villains you knew of were written down and crossed out. When Tsukauchi stopped at a particular piece of paper, he handed it over.

“Damn. It really is happening.” You set the paper aside and took a sip of your now cold beverage. “Do you need any help for the preparations? I can pull an all nighter if needed.”

“Would it be alright? It’s bad enough the schedule keeps changing.” Glancing at the paper and to the calendar, Tsukauchi stared at your tired eyes. “With this, the Fukuo Kai case will commence a week from now. Are you ready to focus on Nighteye’s?”

“From the middle, I have been focusing on their case. I just didn’t expect it to happen too soon.” Playing with the hems of your sweater, you rested your elbows on your knees and covered your face. “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

“Not thinking of bailing now, are you?” Tsukauchi said as he began to clear his desk and stand up. “What’s on your mind, hmm?”

“I just met with 2 people I shouldn’t have any business with.” You weakly chuckle as you lead the way to the rooftop. Opening the doors, you felt your breathing grow heavy. The sudden claminess of the narrow pathway was not good for your running mind. Holding onto Tsukauchi’s sleeve, you were more than thankful he was willing to listen.

Taking the final step, Tsukauchi unlocked the hatch and granted access to the rooftop. The night sky was still dark and barely held any stars. Light pollution framed the horizon while the street lamps casted a yellow-orange glow to the roads below.

“What happened?”

“Levi specifically told the heroes not to mess with my work.” You began. “It went well but not for long. I had to bug the Shie Hassaikai after a few days Levi left. Only an idiot would refuse knowing my stance with the two parties.”

“Was it successful?”

“It was. The anon tip we had from before was Chronostasis. He gave me Overhaul’s sim card and I kinda just took the opportunity to let him plant the chip for me. It was going smoothly till a few hours ago. Nighteye told me that they were still getting feedback even though Chrono destroyed the device.”

“Where did things go wrong? It just seems like a loyalty test to me.”

“I don’t even know if I passed at this point.” Taking your phone out, you opened the gallery and showed him the picture of the hidden camera. “They bugged me. I’m not certain if they saw what went on inside my unit but the fact that they saw him entering and exiting as he pleases makes my blood boil.”

“Then it means they saw his face?” His eyes widened.

“As far as I know, he only took his mask off around the living room area, his room, or mine.” Trying to recall, each time he entered the kitchen he used the other door connecting to the living room. Thank the quirk gods your apartment was designed that way. “I don’t even know if it transmits audio.”

Squatting on the floor you rubbed your face once more and raked your fingers through your hair. Pulling on the clumps a bit, you released a small shaky sigh.

“I’m guessing the second person you met was the reason for all this?” Tsukauchi took the initiative and sat on the empty space beside you. “What happened with him?”

“He knew about Chrono helping me and about the other bug running around. Told me that heroes needed to have fun too. Bastard.” No matter how much you twisted your views, Chisaki Kai was always Overhaul first. “I… I just don’t know what to do anymore, Nao.”

Closing your eyes, a small whimper left your mouth as tears began to fall.

“Things are just so fucking complicated that I… I don’t even know what step I should do next. I want justice to prevail but no matter what I do…”

“You’ve really fallen down the rabbithole, huh?” Tsukauchi commented as he gave soft pats on your back. “Then again, who wouldn’t? You’re literally stuck in the middle and have to be on edge more than usual. Other than that, you held up pretty well.”

“I can’t even clear my name at this point. If things ever go wrong in the Shie Hassaikai raid, my name will definitely make it into the possible accomplice list.” You bit your lip and clenched your fists. “Gods I hate this so fucking much. I told him I had it under control when in reality I’m as stuck as a rat on a glue board.”

“Don’t go using that analogy.” Tsukauchi still continued to pat your back. “Think of us as hamsters. We’re pretty cute and intelligent. Just give it a bit of time and I’m sure you’ll think of something. I bet you wouldn’t want your dad to partake in any of your problems so best not to pop up in your estate.”

“I know it’s a law for heroes not to kill but what if…”

“I doubt he’ll die in battle. Overhaul is a B-Rank villain. The most that’ll happen would be for him to be knocked out unconscious or bloody at the end of the day.” Yet even as he said those words, Tsukauchi wasn’t too confident. It would be a lie on his part if he said things would be fine. “Who knows? He might have some sort of magical epiphany and surrender to lessen his charges.”

“Now that you mention it,” You wiped your tears away and sat down properly. “I’ve never really read what happens to higher rank villains after they get captured. The highest I’ve handled was just D-ranked ones.”

“Hmmm…” Now that the topic was open, he too hadn’t really thought too much about it knowing his and your department weren’t incharge of what happens after the dirty work. “Standard procedures. They’ll search the area once more and take proper inventory. Say that Overhaul is merely strained, they would pat him down and once he’s clear and in the precinct or designated area, he’ll have to sign a document signifying that the given list is all that he owns. He’ll be then taken to a private area to have his fingerprints, mug shot, and other necessary information.”

“He probably won’t get a hearing.”

“Right you are. He’ll most likely be sent to Tartarus if that’s what you’re asking.”

“If he does, who do you think would handle it? The HPSC?”

“Most likely. Still, they have a lot on their hands so his case would surely collect dust.” He paused and let out a yawn. “If it were you, would you grant him a second chance in life?”

“Heh, If it were up to me...” Looking at the now starless skies, you felt a chill run down your spine. “Personal emotions aside, of course not.”

“But?”

“You really think I’d break into Tartarus just to save one villain and give him a better life?” You smirked and stood up.

“Of course not.” He chuckled and stood up as well. “Even the dumbest person knows that’s suicide. Go home and get some rest, (y/n). We’ll handle this later in the day.”

Giving you some privacy, Tsukauchi excused himself first. Hearing the door latch click, you took your phone out and dialed a number. It only took 3 rings before the other line picked up.

“Well now,” The cheeky voice said. “What can I help you with dove?”

- - - - -

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​ @franko-pop​ @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

I hope yall liked this chapter annnd if you want to be tagged feel free to comment :’) your comments make my day and make me happy huhu <3

[papermoonloveslucy]

TIME: A CLOWN WITH GLAMOUR

May 26, 1952

TIME: The Weekly News Magazine ~ Lucille Ball: Prescription for TV; a clown with glamour.  May 26, 1952.  

On Monday evenings, more than 30 million Americans do the same thing at the same time: they tune in ‘I Love Lucy’ (9 p.m. E.D.T., CBS-TV), to get a look at a round-eyed, pink-haired comedienne named Lucille Ball.

An ex-model and longtime movie star (54 films in the past 20 years), Lucille Ball is currently the biggest success in television. In six months her low-comedy antics, ranging from mild mugging to baggy-pants clowning, have dethroned such veteran TV headliners as Milton Berle and Arthur Godfrey. One of the first to see the handwriting on the TV screen was funnyman Red Skelton, himself risen to TV's top ten. Last February, when he got the award from the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences as the top comic of the year, Skelton walked to the microphone and said flatly: "I don't deserve this. It should go to Lucille Ball."

By this week, the four national TV rating services (Nielsen, Trendex, American Research Bureau and Videodex) were in unaccustomed agreement: each of them rated ‘I Love Lucy’ as the nation's No. 1 TV show.

Lumps & Pratfalls. The television industry is not quite sure how it happened. When Lucy went on the air last October, it seemed to be just another series devoted to family comedy, not much better or much worse than ‘Burns and Allen’, ‘The Goldbergs’, ‘The Aldrich Family’ or ‘Mama’. Like its competitors, Lucy holds a somewhat grotesque mirror up to middle-class life, and finds its humor in exaggerating the commonplace incidents of marriage, business and the home. Lucille's Cuba-born husband, Desi Arnaz, is cast as the vain, easily flattered leader of an obscure rumba band. Lucille plays his ambitious wife, bubbling with elaborate and mostly ineffectual schemes to advance his career.

But what televiewers see on their screens is the sort of cheerful rowdiness that has been rare in the U.S. since the days of the silent movies' Keystone Comedies. Lucille submits enthusiastically to being hit with pies; she falls over furniture, gets locked in home freezers, is chased by knife-wielding fanatics. Tricked out as a ballerina or a Hindu maharanee or a toothless hillbilly, she takes her assorted lumps and pratfalls with unflagging zest and good humor. Her mobile, rubbery face reflects a limitless variety of emotions, from maniacal pleasure to sepulchral gloom. Even on a flickering, pallid TV screen, her wide-set saucer eyes beam with the massed candlepower of a lighthouse on a dark night.

What is her special talent? TV men credit Lucille with an unfailing instinct for timing. Producer-Writer Jess Oppenheimer says: "For every word you write in this business, you figure you're lucky to get back 70-80% from a performer. With Lucille, you get back 140%." Broadway's Oscar (’South Pacific’) Hammerstein II, hailing Lucille's control, calls her a "broad comedienne, but one who never goes over the line." To her manager, Don Sharpe, Lucille is "close to the Chaplin school of comedy—she's got warmth and sympathy, and people believe in her, even while they're laughing at her."

Western Mirage. Lucille explains that the TV show is important because "I'm a real ham and so is Desi. We like to have an audience. We like being up on our toes." But the show also allows her some time with her ten-month-old daughter, Lucie Desirée, and for the first time in eleven years of trouping, gives her a home life with husband Desi. Says she: "I look like everybody's idea of an actress, but I feel like a housewife. I think that's what my trouble was in movies."

Actress Ball was a long time arriving at the calm waters of motherhood and housewifery. The daughter of Henry and Desirée Hunt Ball, she was born in Jamestown, N.Y. (near Buffalo) at what she calls "an early age." Pressed, she will concede that it was quite a while ago: she admits to being 40. Her father was an electrician whose job of stringing telephone wires carried him around the country. When Lucille was four, he died of typhoid in Wyandotte, Mich.

Lucille spent her childhood in Jamestown (1920 pop. 38,917), but managed to see very little of it. Mostly, she inhabited a dream world peopled by glamorous alter egos. Sometimes she imagined herself to be a young lady of great poise named Sassafrassa, who combined the best features of Pearl White, Mabel Normand and Pola Negri. Another make-believe identity was Madeline, a beauteous cowgirl who emerged from the pages of Zane Grey's melodramatic novel, ‘The Light of Western Stars’. To get authentic background for Madeline, young Lucille corresponded with the chambers of commerce of Butte and Anaconda, Mont. She read and reread their publicity handouts until she felt she knew more about Montana than the people who lived there. It was the powerful spirit of Madeline that caused her for many years to claim Butte, Mont., as her birthplace. Only in the most recent edition of Who's Who did she finally, grudgingly admit to being born in Jamestown, N.Y.

Horrses to Warter. While she lived there, Lucille did her best to rid Jamestown of dullness. Sometimes she gilded reality by imagining that the family chicken coop was her palace ("The chickens would become my armies"). She remembers that she was always unmanageable in the spring. "I'd leave the classroom for a drink of water and never come back. I'd start walking toward what I thought was New York City and keep going until someone brought me home."

By the time she left high school at 14, she had staged virtually a one-man performance of ‘Charley's Aunt’ ("I played the lead, directed it, cast it, sold the tickets, printed the posters, and hauled furniture to the school for scenery and props"). In a Masonic musical revue, she put so much passion into an Apache dance that she threw one arm out of its socket. Jamestown citizens still remember her explosive personality with wonder: it took quite a while for the dust to settle in Jamestown when Lucille finally left for Manhattan at the age of 15.

Probably because of the dreamy mental state induced by Sassafrassa and Madeline, Lucille is not too clear about dates, events and people. In New York,

she headed straight for John Murray Anderson's dramatic school. At the sound of her voice ("I used to say 'horrses' and 'warter' "), her teacher clapped hands to his forehead. Anderson tactfully told Lucille's mother that her daughter should try another line of work. Lucille made a stab at being a secretary and a drugstore soda jerk, but found both occupations dull. She answered chorus calls for Broadway musicals with a marked lack of success. When she even lost a job in the chorus of the third road company of ‘Rio Rita’, a Ziegfeld aide told her: "It's no use, Montana. You're not meant for show business. Go home."

Periodically, Lucille did go home to Jamestown. But she returned again and again to the assault on New York. She managed to get into the chorus of ‘Stepping Stones’, and held on until the choreographer announced that she wanted only girls who could do toe work ("I couldn't even do heel work"). Lucille turned to modeling, progressed from the wholesale garment houses through department stores to the comparative eminence of Hattie Carnegie. She still has a warm feeling for people in the garment trade, because "they're the nearest thing to show business in the outside world. They're temperamental and jealous. I like them." She had a great many admirers. One of them, Britain's actor Hugh Sinclair, says: "She disarmed you. You saw this wonderful, glamorous creature, and in five minutes she had you roaring with laughter. She was gay, warmhearted and absolutely genuine."

As a model, Lucille called herself Diane Belmont, choosing her name in honor of Belmont Park Race Track, where fashion shows are sometimes staged. But it was another few years before Lucille finally got her break. She was walking up Broadway past the Palace Theater when she met agent Sylvia Hahlo coming down from the Goldwyn office. Sylvia grabbed her and cried breathlessly: "How would you like to go to California? They're sending a bunch of poster girls there for six weeks for a picture. One of the girls' mothers has refused to let her go."

$50 to $ 1,500. The movie was ‘Roman Scandals’, starring Eddie Cantor, and it was six months instead of six weeks in the making. Lucille was grimly determined to keep her foot in the Hollywood door. She got a succession of bit parts in such movies as ‘Moulin Rouge’ and ‘The Affairs of Cellini’, worked for three months with the roughhouse comics known as The Three Stooges ("It was one continuous bath of Vichy water and lemon meringue pie").

When RKO picked up her contract, she gradually emerged as a queen of B pictures, then began making program movies with comics Jack Oakie, Joe Penner and the Marx Brothers (’Room Service’). Her salary rose from $50 a week to $1,500 and her hair, already turned blonde from its original brown, now became a brilliant but indescribable shade that has been variously called ‘shocking pink' and 'strawberry orange.' While she was in ‘Dance, Girl, Dance’, and being hailed by Director Erich Pommer as a new 'find' (by then,

she had been playing in movies for six years), she met a brash, boyish young Cuban named Desi Arnaz.

Gold Initials. Desi had come to Hollywood to make the movie version of the Broadway hit, Too Many Girls. Taking one look at luscious (5 ft. 7 in., 130 Ibs.) Lucille, who was wearing a sweater and skirt, he cried: "Thass a honk o' woman!" and asked: "How would you like to learn the rumba, baby?" He took her for a ride in his blue convertible, with the gold initials on the door, and she shudderingly recalls that the only time the speedometer dipped below 100 m.p.h. was when he rounded a curve. On the way home, Desi hit a bump and, as Lucille tells it, a fender flew off. He simply flicked the ash from his Cuban cigarillo and sped on.

Lucille was as dazzled by his full name (Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y De Acha III) as by his history. The only child of a prosperous Cuban politician who had been mayor of Santiago and a member of the Cuban Senate, Desi had fled to Miami with his mother during the revolution of 1933. His father, a supporter of President Machado, was put in jail, and the Arnaz possessions disappeared in the revolution.

After six months, Desi's father was released from jail and rejoined his family in Miami, where he went into the export-import business. Desi, who was 16, enrolled in St. Patrick's High School (his closest friend was Al Capone's son Albert), and got a part-time job cleaning canary cages for a firm which sold birds to local drugstores. He soon found steadier work as a guitarist in a four-piece band incongruously called the Siboney Sextette. The critics agreed on Desi's meager musical gifts. "He was always off-beat," says theater owner Carlos Montalban. "But he's an awfully nice guy—a clean-cut Latin."

Conga Line. Whatever Desi had, it was something the public liked. He began beating a conga drum in Miami and soon nightclub audiences, from Florida to New York, were forming conga lines behind him. His good looks and unquenchable good humor interested producer George Abbott, who was searching for a Latin type to play a leading role in ‘Too Many Girls’. "Can you act?" asked Abbott. "Act?" answered Desi, expansively. "All my life, I act."

The courtship of Desi and Lucille was predictably stormy. Says a friend: "He's very jealous. She's very jealous—they're both very jealous." They were married in 1940, while Desi was leading his orchestra at the Roxy in New York and Lucille was between pictures in Hollywood. She flew in from the coast; they got up at 5 a.m. and drove to Connecticut, where they were married by a justice of the peace. Since they had no apartment, Desi compromised by carrying his bride across the threshold of his dressing room at the Roxy. Hollywood offered odds that the marriage would not last six weeks.

The marriage lasted better than six weeks, but after four years trouble blew. Desi kept moving about the country with his band, and Lucille, when not making pictures, mostly sat home alone. Their marriage was drifting on the rocks, and only World War II averted immediate shipwreck. Desi refused a commission in the Cuban army and was drafted into the U.S. infantry. He was moved on to Special Services, and spent much of the war shepherding USO troupes from one base to another.

In 1944, Lucille filed suit for divorce. She won an interlocutory decree but never got around to filing for her final papers. The reason: she and Desi were in the midst of a new reconciliation. But all the old difficulties remained. Lucille would sit night after night at the clubs where Desi's band was playing, but that resulted in rings under her eyes rather than a new intimacy. She tried cutting down on her movie work by starring in a CBS radio show called ‘My Favorite Husband’, and Desi also took a flyer at radio. They worked out a vaudeville act and toured U.S. theaters with their new routines.

Lucille credits Desi with being the one who was willing to take a chance on TV. "He's a Cuban," she says, "and all Cubans gamble. They'll bet you which way the tide is going and give you first pick." But it was a real gamble. Movie exhibitors do not look kindly upon movie stars who desert to the enemy. If the show flopped, Lucille would have no place to crawl back to. They told CBS that they would give television a try only if both of them could be on the same show. At first, they wanted to play themselves. They compromised by turning Desi into Ricky Ricardo, a struggling young bandleader, and letting Lucille fulfill her lifelong ambition of playing a housewife.

The decision to film the show also made CBS bigwigs uneasy. It would cost four times as much as a live show, and the only interested sponsor, Philip Morris, wasn't prepared to go that high. Again there was a compromise. Desi and Lucille agreed to take a smaller salary in return for producing the show and keeping title to the films.

Real Plumbing. Long years in the practical business of orchestra leading had given Desi considerable organizing ability and business sense. He set up Desilu Productions (Desi president, Lucille vice president), and leased a sound stage from an independent Los Angeles studio. Because Lucille was ‘dead' without an audience, a side wall of the studio was knocked out to make a street entrance, and seats installed for an audience of 300. When a show is ready for the cameras, the audience laughter is picked up on overhead microphones and used in the final print.

Though ‘I Love Lucy’ is filmed, it is more like a play than a movie. All of the lines and action are memorized and, whenever possible, the show is played straight through from beginning to end, and not shot in a number of unrelated scenes. The action takes place on four sets; two of them represent the Ricardos' Manhattan apartment, a third shows the nightclub where Ricky's band plays and the fourth is used for any other scenes called for by the script. Says Desi proudly: "We have real furniture, real plumbing, and a real kitchen where we serve real food. Even the plants are really growing; they're not phony."

Desilu Productions hired a pair of veteran troupers, William Frawley and Vivian Vance, to play the family next door and serve as foils and friends for Desi and Lucille. Academy Award-winning Karl (’The Good Earth’) Freund supervises the three cameras, and Director Marc Daniels (soon to be replaced by Bill Asher) gives Lucy its rattling pace. The writers—Jess Oppenheimer, Bill Carroll and Madalyn Pugh—turn out scripts that do not impose too much on the audience's credulity and are reasonably free of clichés. The writers are held in an esteem not common in TV. Lucille bombards Jess Oppenheimer with photographs flatteringly inscribed to "the Boss Man," and Desi has presented him with a statuette of a baseball player and a punning tribute, "To the man behind the ball."

"Wanta Play Cards?" Desi and Lucille live an unpretentious life on a five-acre ranch in the San Fernando Valley. The only Hollywood note is a kidney-shaped swimming pool, and the most recent addition to the house (a wing devoted to daughter Lucie and her nurse) cost $22,000—more than the house and land cost originally. Neither Desi nor Lucille has ever been socially ambitious, and their friends are the same ones they have known for years. Both Desi's mother (now divorced from Arnaz Sr., who still lives in Miami) and Lucille's Mom live nearby.

At home, Lucille, who collects stray cats and dogs, is an amateur painter ("I use oils because it's easier to correct mistakes than with water colors"), and generally considers herself a lazy, lounging homebody. She is fascinated by Desi's boundless energy.' He spends weekends fishing on his 34-foot cabin cruiser, Desilu; plays violent tennis; likes to cook elaborate dishes. Says Lucille: "Everything is fine with him all the time. Wanta play cards? Fine. Play games? Fine. go for a swim? Great." There's only one problem: "Desi is a great thermostat sneaker-upper and I'm a thermostat sneaker-downer. Cold is the one thing that isn't great with him."

Sex & Chic. Though life has grown noticeably more placid for Desi and Lucille, it promises more money than they ever made before. Desilu Productions has already branched out beyond ‘I Love Lucy’. It is filming TV commercials for Red Skelton, and is at work on a new TV series, ‘Our Miss Brooks’, starring Eve Arden. Three of the best 30-minute Lucy shows are being put together in a package and will be experimentally released to movie theaters in the U.S. and Latin America. This year, ‘I Love Lucy’ has grossed about $1,000,000, and sponsor Philip Morris has signed a contract for 39 more shows beginning this fall. All of the old Lucy films can be sold again as new TV stations go on the air (eventually there will be 2,053 TV transmitters in the U.S., compared to today's 108).

In reaching the TV top, Lucille's telegenic good looks may be almost as important as her talent for comedy. She is sultry-voiced, sexy, and wears chic clothes with all the aplomb of a trained model and showgirl. Letters from her feminine fans show as much interest in Lucille's fashions as in her slapstick. Most successful comediennes (e.g., Imogene Coca, Fanny Brice, Beatrice Lillie) have made comic capital out of their physical appearance. Lucille belongs to a rare comic aristocracy: the clown with glamour.

[soybeantree]

pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x (reader) genre/warning: fluff if you squint word count: 3k+ description: sequel to ‘revenant’. your life with kyungsoo comes with an unnatural amount of challenges.  a/n: july installment...in december (don’t ask) of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. we know it’s the holiday season. we know this is spoopy. BUT we have finally reached year 2, which means sequals to a lot of our kyungsoo stories...or so i’m told. -em

Your father always said that life as the cemetery’s caretaker comes with more problems than benefits. Weird work schedule, no social life, constantly surrounded by the dead. You find little in your life to contradict him. Your current predicament only lends credence to his belief.

Waking up in a coffin without a body should startle you, but your father had also warned you this might happen. He had even had you spend afternoon’s in a coffin so you would understand where you were if or when it happened. Ghosts will always try to return to the world of the living. He had told you countless times. They have unfinished business; otherwise, they would pass on.  

As caretaker, you have a connection to the dead. You can see them and communicate with them which comes in handy when you need them to stop destroying the hedges and defiling the mausoleums, but the connection also opens you to possession. Possessing the living is difficult for ghosts though, even with a connection. However, last night you had broken one of the cardinal rules of being a caretaker. You had gone to bed drunk. 

You had come home after a long night of work to an email from the City Council with a list of complaints about your work. The flower beds needed weeding on the west end. Ivy had overgrown several prominent crypts in the east end. The walking paths by the north gate had unsightly cracks. The list went on and on. The City Council likes to forget that you are one person who can only work at night. All the other caretakers they have hired quit within the first week, and the Council wishes to maintain a pristine image of the cemetery for tourists which means that all work done must be done out of sight of them. 

Halfway through the list you had popped a beer. You finished the first one before the clock struck eight. By noon, you had finished the remaining beers in your fridge and felt much better. You could laugh about the two malevolent spirits from the night before and the tornados of fury they had unleashed on five plots a piece. You reread through the Council’s demands, adding colorful commentary about what they could do with their list.

A competent caretaker would have stayed awake until they sobered, but a competent caretaker would have also stopped at two. You passed out on your couch which is why you were currently waking up in a coffin.

You sigh again. Your father will be so disappointed when he finds out. He was the previous caretaker and had gone his entire career without ever being possessed. He taught you because it was a necessary lesson of a caretaker, but he had patted your head and told you he believed you would never need the lesson. If you could bang your head against the coffin’s lid, you would.

As lying in the coffin will do nothing to aid your situation, you will yourself to rise through fake silk and mahogany and six feet of dirt into a new night. The cemetery awakens around you, familiar ghosts rising from their graves. They float with ease down paths as they go about their business. You struggle to move yourself down the path to the south gate which is blessedly close to the grave of your body snatcher. 

“Can it truly be? A ghost has stolen our dear caretakers body.” The gleeful exclamation breaks your concentration and you stutter to a stop. Of all the ghosts to see you in this state, it had to be her. 

You ignore her as you resume your journey. She floats circles around you, continuing to grin but maintaining silence. On her third trip around, you stop and raise your hand, staring at it. You wonder. She stops in front of you and chuckles. Hand extended, you place it on her cheek. It stops, unable to pass through. The place where hand meets cheek feels like the chill mist which rises from a waterfall but solid. Her brow furrows as you pull your hand back. Realization brightens her eyes, but too late. Your hand collides with her face and sends her flying feet from you.

She whines, a high pitched wail which has surely sent a chill rushing up some passerby's spine. 

“For what reason, do I deserve such treatment?” 

“I have a long list, but I’m certain you know what most of them are.”

Her nose scrunches up and her lips purse, but she keeps her peace. With a huff, she floats off.

You allow yourself a moment of pleasure. Being possessed is unacceptable for a caretaker, but it has a benefit. You have wanted to slap her for years.

After much struggle, you reach your house which rests near the cemetery. You glide through the door and head for the study. In the Caretaker's handbook, there is a section on what to do if possessed. You read it when you were young, but years have stolen much of the information from your memory. 

The book sits on the middle shelf in a middle bookcase in the study, eye level with you. The peeling spine with its faded black script taunts you. The dead affecting the dead is an easy task, but the dead affecting the living world takes years of practice and a deal of determination. Your hand swipes through the book over and over again as your frustration mounts. You shriek. A gust of wind rushes through the room rustling the pages on your desk, but the book remains locked in its spot. 

Aside from you, no one in the city can see ghosts. There’s a girl down the street who might be able to hear them, but once her ears open, she can never close them. You will leave her to her oblivion. No one should have to deal with the constant pestering of ghosts. You make another swipe at the book with no hope and no alternative. 

“Do you require assistance?” 

Another benefit to add about being possessed: no blushing. Also no shivering. No indication of embarrassment or attraction. 

Spinning like a ballerina in a music box, you face Kyungsoo, your cemetery‘s designated reaper and your first crush. The answer is ‘yes’, but you’d rather him go away and pretend he never saw you in this state. “Do you know how to reverse a possession?” 

He blinks, the gesture odd on his solemn face. After a moment, he shakes his head. “I have never had to deal with a possession since becoming a reaper.”

You nod. Of course, you would be his first possession. “In that case, could you grab that book?” You point at the guide. When he does, you direct him to set it on your desk and consult the index for the section on possession. Page 74. He flips the pages and settles it before you. 

“It seems simple enough.” You muse. “Find my body. Remove the spirit. Re-enter my body. You can remove a spirit, right?” A glance at Kyungsoo negates your simple comment. “What?”

“I can remove the spirit with my scythe.” The large metal hook shimmers into existence on his back when he starts the word and disappears again when he finishes. “However, it would be a permanent removal. A spirit guilty of possession does warrant such punishment.” His voice is soft, and you can sense the ‘but’ he leaves unspoken.

Kyungsoo, like you, has a soft spot for wayward ghosts. Rather than send every malevolent spirit to hell, he attempts to coax them back to themselves. 

“Then I’ll have to convince it to leave. Which shouldn’t be too hard if I can figure out what it’s unfinished business is.” Kyungsoo’s brows furrow. “It’s easier than you think.” You shrug as you glide past him, your movement less stilted now but still difficult.

“As caretaker,” you continue, pausing in front of another bookshelf. “Can you grab the last book on the third shelf?” He does and sets it by the Guide. “It is my responsibility to catalogue each plot and document its resident. Open it at the bookmark. The grave I woke in is fairly recent, probably in the last year. Flip back a few pages. Stop!” Your finger hovers over the page as you scroll down the list of names. “This one.” Lee, May. Buried June fifth. About six months ago then. Beside her name is the superscript III. 

Gliding over to yet another shelf, you scan for the corresponding notebook. “Can you…” The request peters out as you glance back at Kyungsoo. His dark eyes shift between the book on the desk, you, and the bookshelves around you, and you can imagine the cogs in his brain turning as he puzzles the pieces together. 

“Cataloguing their name, date of death, and resting spot is the responsibility of a caretaker, but why notate about their lives?” He asks. 

“My grandmother taught me too.” You pause as grief stirs. Even as a ghost, the emotion rises. She moved on. No lingering regrets kept her tied to this place. Kyungsoo, himself, saw her off. 

“She said a proper caretaker knows her charges; otherwise, she can’t do her job properly. Dad didn’t see the purpose in it.” Your gaze shifts to a shelf with one growing volume. In what little free time you have, you have started to go through the burials in his time and record the details of the dead. 

“Your grandmother was a great caretaker.” Warmth fills his voice, or perhaps jealousy is fueling your imagination. Kyungsoo has been the cemetery’s reaper since before your grandmother’s time. She was a great caretaker. She loved her work, and, unlike you, had never shirked her responsibility. 

“Yes.” You say because the alternative is an awkward silence. “Can you grab this one for me?” Without a glance back, you indicate the notebook with the corresponding III. His arm reaches past you, his body against your back. You wish you could feel his presence. 

He sets the notebook on the table and opens it to the date of her death. You read through the entry, ignoring him and focusing on the task at hand. May Lee left behind a husband and a son. The son is twenty-four. The quick sketch of his face at the bottom of the page resurfaces the memories from that day. 

Even though the funerals occur during the day when you sleep, you drag yourself from your bed to attend. From a distance, you record the key points of the event, mainly who comes and how the new ghost reacts to their farewell. Mrs. Lee had stood beside her weeping son throughout the entire service. Her face had been a mess as she had reached for him. She had grown more and more distraught each time her arms passed through him instead of wrapping around him. 

“Her son. Whatever her reason for possessing my body is, it has to do with her son.” You snap your fingers and miss the satisfying sound of the click. “Can you turn the page? His address should be on the next page?” Kyungsoo does. Closing your eyes, you picture the words and repeat them to yourself.

“Would you like me to bring the book with us?”

“Us?” Your eyes snap open, and you stare at him.

He nods. “I will accompany you. Unless you no longer wish my assistance.”

You could write a check list of your body’s reactions to this moment and are again grateful that your spirit lacks the ability to create any of them. “I mean if you’re not busy.” With a smile, he closes the book and tucks it under his arm before waving you onward.

Kyungsoo matches your snail’s pace. With each block you pass, your irritation rises, and you begin to realize why most ghosts only haunt the cemetery. Even if you had better control, it would still take forever to get anywhere around town and beyond. “Can ghosts learn how to ride in cars?” You ask as another one whizzes down the road.

“Yes, but it takes great concentration to maintain a solid enough form and often results in sightings which lead to Grim Intervention.” You nod in understanding and keep trudging forward. 

A chill like the first breath of autumn air settles on your hand, and a glance reveals Kyungsoo’s wrapped around it. His skin has no texture, no solidity, but it holds yours. He pulls you along beside him. 

“I suppose I should have known that a reaper could affect the dead world as well as the living.” 

“If my assistance insults–” He begins to pull away, but you tighten your grip, an odd sensation like trying to grasp the wind. 

“It doesn’t. I appreciate it, especially if it means I’ll get to my body faster.” Though you are enjoying the time with him. “We both have important duties waiting for us.” The cemetery comes first.

The son’s house sits at the edge of town. A monstrous structure of red bricks and white columns and far too many balconies. Despite the late hour, several cars still circle the fountain at the driveways center. Lights shine through the windows, and you catch the shadows of figures as they pass in front of them. 

Kyungsoo pulls you through the front gate and up the drive to the glittering building. You pass by groups of people as you traverse the mansion’s halls, searching for your face amongst the unfamiliar ones.  Deciding that May must be with her son whose presence is also lacking from the assembled guests, Kyungsoo leads you up the stairs, a feat impossible without him. Your ghostly form responds well to front and back and left and right, but up and down prove difficult. 

The second floor breathes an air of relief, the crowds unwelcome in this private space. It begs the question though why the son would be alone up here with so many guests below. You pop your heads into the rooms as you pass. They are stale with emptiness. If you were human, you would shiver, but as you are, you sigh and walk past. 

Turning a corner, a pair of doors greets you, light lining its bottoms and sides. In front of the doors, your body stands. A hand hovers over the knob.

“He won’t recognize you.” You call, startling the figure. “You’ll just be some random, crazy girl.” May stares back at you, your face paling whether because of you or the reaper is left to the imagination. “We’re not here to harm you. I just want my body back.”

“My son-” Your voice breaks, the sound stiffens your spine. You refuse to cry in front of others.

“I know you miss him. It’s not easy to let someone go, but this is dangerous. If I was here with any other reaper-”

“I promised him.” She cuts you off with another sob, covering your face with your hand. The sight roils your stomach. 

The cool breeze of Kyungsoo’s touch settles on your shoulder. They ease as you meet his eyes and acknowledge the unspoken words. You glide back as he walks forward, stopping a few feet from her.

“May, please come with us. You hurt your chances standing outside his room, engaging in a one-sided conversation.” His low voice eases hand from mouth and calms shaking shoulders. She nods and places your hand in his proffered one. 

One of the empty rooms offers a safe place for conversation. May begins, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken your body, but I promised my son.” The words quaver on a sob, and you fold your ghostly arms to keep you from doing something regrettable. You need to coax her out and random displays of aggression won’t help. 

“He became engaged when I was admitted to the hospital.” She continues once she has calmed again. “He told me I had to get better, so I could come to the wedding. I promised him I would and that I would tie his tie. He’s always been awful at it.” A sniffle and a smile punctuate the statement. “The wedding is tomorrow.” Tears pool again. Sympathy wars with annoyance, so you fix your attention on Kyungsoo. The eerie serenity of a reaper holds his features in place as he awaits the story’s conclusion. You force your features to mirror his. “I want to keep my promise. I had no intention of stealing your body when I came. I only wanted to asked for your help, but-”

“You saw an opportunity and took it.” You shake your head. Any ghost would have. A caretaker courts danger during every moment of their job. A good caretaker prepares for it. Both your father and grandmother drilled this fact into your head, and you had failed them. Despite your annoyance at her for such a disgusting display of emotions in front of Kyungsoo, you understand. Your grandmother made many promises and passed without warning. She would have never attempted a return, but you wish she had. 

“No matter your reasons, your actions are a damnable offense.” So much for coaxing her out. 

You suppress the accompanying moan, the sound unseemly on the eve of a wedding. Your attempts to gain Kyungsoo’s attention and redirect the conversation fail. His focus remains solely on May. “The longer you remain in this body the more you will draw the notice of other reapers.” 

A shudder shakes your body, and again you try for his attention in vain. “For your sake, you must leave. We will find a way for you to keep your promise to your son.” He holds his hand out to her while you gape at the both of them. Why even come along if he was going to go with the brutally honest approach. 

May’s hand rises from within your body. The spectral fingers grasp Kyungsoo’s, and he pulls the rest of her out. Your body falls limp to the floor, a creepy shell with lifeless eyes. You blink, and the eyes blink back at you.

Closing your eyes, you mimic the inhale of breath. The Guide had said in order to return you must remember the feel of your body. The way your chest expands with each gulp of air, the weight of skin upon bones, and the steady beat of your heart in your veins. Opening your eyes, you look up at May and Kyungsoo from the floor. As you sit up, you take stock of your body, wiggling fingers and toes and stretching muscles. 

“I didn’t expect it to feel so weird.” You muse, pushing yourself off the floor. Your legs wobble beneath you, and Kyungsoo grabs your arm to steady you. His solid hands are cool still, but the thrill of an autumn breeze is missing. 

“It will feel normal soon enough.” He promises.

Whether he’s right, only time will tell. In the meantime, you have a promise to keep. “How are we going to help her tie her son's tie? I have no idea how to do it, and I doubt he would want a reaper doing it.” You continue to lean on Kyungsoo as you glance between him and May. 

“May will walk you through it, and you will help him to see her.” His confidence is nearly strong enough to make you confident, but not quite. 

“She can make me visible to my son?”

Your “no” contrasts with his “yes”, and you stare at each other in a silent battle. Your grandmother and father trained you in all the abilities of a Caretaker. Neither of them had mentioned the ability to make ghosts visible to the living. You communicate this through your glare while Kyungsoo returns it with quiet confidence. “How?” You finally mutter, pulling your arm from him to fold it across your chest. 

“Through your will. As a caretaker, you are a bridge between the living and the dead.” 

“And as a grim reaper aren’t you the same?”

He shakes his head. “I am a gateway for the dead and am able to affect the world of the living because the dead do.”

“Please.” Your protest dies on your lips as May rushes towards you, her sad smile full of hope. She reaches for your hand, her fingers passing through it but you feel them comb through your palm. You shiver. “Will you try? I can teach you how to do his tie.”

Holding her gaze bolsters the shred of confidence Kyungsoo instilled. “How do I will it?”

“You already are.” 

As you watch, color returns to May, her body solidifying before you. The light from the chandelier above still casts no shadow, but the wall behind her is lost to her form. You grasp her hand. The skin is soft and will give under the slightest pressure, but you can feel it. 

“Creepy.” You whisper. An odd word for a caretaker, but today has been an odd day.

The rest goes easy, or as easy as telling someone that their dead mother is going to keep her promise through you and then making their dead mother appear before them can be. The fact that her son knows about you from rumors around town does help though. After the initial shock, everything does go easy. The next day May’s son allows you to tie his tie while she stands visible beside you. 

Her promise full-filled, May faces Kyungsoo ready to pass into the beyond. But Kyungsoo allows her another mercy. The three of you stand at the back of the wedding hall to watch the union, and when her son glances back after his first kiss with his wife, you will her to appear. She waves, her face beaming with joy. You smile, and when you glance at Kyungsoo, you find a smile on his lips too. 

[knuffled]

just practice - chapter eight

it’s finally here! sorry for the wait, but this chapter was a complete pain in the ass to write: i had to scrap seven thousand words and redo everything from scratch, so i hope everyone enjoys it. if you did, it would mean the world to me if you reblogged because i nearly went insane writing this.

also, i highly recommend rereading the earlier chapters, especially chapter one, before reading this one because there’s a lot of references to them here.

here's a song rec to go with this chapter: mt. washington - local natives

here’s the ao3 link

It was a good day for a cross country meet. The sky was clear and blue, and the midday sun radiated just enough warmth to undercut the chill in the early November air. Still, Annabeth was glad that she’d had the foresight to wear yoga pants beneath her track shorts and an under armor shirt under her jersey – she had never dealt well with the cold, after all.

As she stretched her hamstrings, Annabeth surveyed her competition, many of whom had placed very highly at last year’s State championship, and took note of the solemn looks on their faces. It was almost totally silent. In an effort to maintain focus, hardly anyone spoke at all. There was a unique electric tension in the air that felt heavier and more oppressive than in any of the other meets Annabeth had competed in, presumably because everyone was hyper-aware of the caliber of their competition. Everyone here had been invited because of their abilities after all. This was the best that the State had to offer.

In many ways, this meet would be the perfect litmus test for the State championship in February. It would give everyone a chance to gauge their skills in relation to the runners who would be their biggest competition when State rolled around, which would be invaluable. Apart from the championship, there weren’t any other meets that brought together runners from all across the state.

One of the meet’s organizers announced that the women’s five kilometer would begin shortly through a crackly megaphone just as Annabeth finished her final set of stretches. Annabeth took a moment to shut her eyes and breathe in deeply before making her way to the starting line, which was where the dirt trail disappeared into the forest.

The trail was only big enough to allow four or five girls to stand side by side, so Annabeth had to jostle through a sea of elbows towards the front to find a spot that she was happy with. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Reyna taking her place farther behind her, closer towards the middle of the pack. Her face was impassive, but there was an intense concentration that shone in her eyes as she stared ahead of her. When their eyes met, Reyna gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement but didn’t smile.

That was right, Annabeth reminded herself. They weren’t here to be friends. They were here to win.

Annabeth offered her a nod in return before turning back and sharpening her focus. She had never run this particular course before, but Coach Davis had briefed her about it earlier during the week. The course itself was a large loop that went into the forest and circled back, but Coach had warned her that the terrain was very uneven and littered with slopes. When she had heard that, Annabeth found herself grateful, not for the first time, for her decision to train with Reyna. The trail they had run on had been brutal enough that Annabeth felt undaunted by whatever the invitational’s course would throw at her.

There was a droning tension in the air once they all settled in their places and waited for the race to begin. Annabeth strained to hear the fire of the gun along with them, every muscle in her body taut with anticipation. She could feel the steady pulse of her heartbeat through her bones and noticed the way time slowed as one of the organizers lifted his gun skyward.

Annabeth barely registered the ensuing gunshot but years of cultivated instinct propelled her into motion fractions of a second later nonetheless.

She took off into the woods and quickly found herself a spot close towards the front of the pack. There were ten or so girls ahead of her, but she wasn’t in any rush to blow past them quite yet.

Annabeth had always mentally broken up races into three distinct phases. There was the initial scramble to find a place, but the lion’s share of the race was spent maintaining a steady pace, one that was not so slow that she’d fall too far behind but not so fast that she burned all of her stamina before the end. The plan was to abandon her pace only towards the end of the race, so until then, she was perfectly fine with not being in the lead. The worst thing that could happen now was if she succumbed to panic and disrupted her rhythm.

Within the first six minutes, Annabeth managed to surge ahead into ninth place without anyone passing her, but shortly after, however, Annabeth grimaced as she spotted Reyna out of her peripheral vision. Considering her pace, it would only take seconds before Reyna overtook her. A rush of panic flooded through her for a moment, urging her to quicken her pace, before Annabeth quickly suppressed it.

Don’t break your rhythm.  

Still, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling a swell of dismay when she saw Reyna breeze past her with that immaculate form of hers and quickly force her way into second.

Annabeth bit her lip hard in an effort to regain her focus. If she paid too much attention to Reyna, she would inevitably drift from the pace she had set. Just because she was ninth right now didn’t mean she still would be at the end of the race. Besides, she could tell that the girls ahead of her were having a hard time with the way the course sloped up and down constantly. Her moment would come. She just needed to be patient.

Two thirds of the way through the race however, another flare of panic sparked in her chest when two girls passed her within seconds of each other, putting her in twelfth.

This wasn’t good.

If she didn’t do something, she wouldn’t have enough time to make up the distance. It wasn’t ideal but seeing as there was only a third of the race remaining, Annabeth had no qualms about accelerating her pace. Although her increase was subtle, the girls ahead of her were beginning to fatigue and slow down, allowing her to move into sixth place with a fourth of the race left to run.

Annabeth’s pace had grown faster the closer she drew to the finish line, and by the time she reached the half-mile mark, she had launched into a full blown sprint. The girls ahead of her did the same, but Annabeth blew past them into fourth place. It was still possible for her to pass Reyna, but the odds were slim.

She could see the finish line now. Annabeth drew on the last reserves of her stamina to pass the girl in third, only catching a fleeting glimpse of the dark look of frustration on her face.

But, despite everything, Reyna was still too fast.

There was simply too much distance between them for Annabeth to beat her. However, she could still get second place. Annabeth ignored the burn in her lungs and the ache in her legs and pressed onwards, even faster now.

When Reyna crossed the finish line, there were still fifteen meters between the girl in second and Annabeth, but only fifty meters to the finish line. Annabeth desperately tried to draw on more reserves of stamina, anything that would give her even the slightest increase in speed, but there was nothing left to give. She was already giving more than her body could handle – it was mainly thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her veins that she was this close to begin with.

In the end, Annabeth came up short. She had been close enough to reach out and touch her, but the girl in second crossed the finish line two seconds before her.

After coming to a stop, Annabeth leaned over and pressed her hands to her knees as she swallowed great lungfuls of oxygen. She punched her treacherous, trembling thighs and tried to ignore the bitter disappointment welling up inside her, but she was too tired to bother.

It wasn't even the fact that she didn’t get second that upset her most – no what was worse was that, even after giving more than a hundred percent, she still hadn’t even come close to beating Reyna. It was the knowledge that even her best wasn’t enough. That was what hurt the most.

There was a part of her that wanted to collapse on the grass and scream, but she forced herself to head to one of the tents the organizers had set up to grab herself a bottle of water instead. Annabeth took the first bottle she could find and sank into a plastic folding chair with a groan, finishing the entire thing in one go before throwing it into a garbage and staring up at the tent’s off-white ceiling.

Of course, one of the organizers announced that the awards ceremony was ready to begin just as she was beginning to get comfortable because why not. Annabeth suppressed a groan and dragged a hand over her face – she did not want to stand up right now. Nonetheless, she grit her teeth and somehow forced herself to the other tent where the ceremony was being held.

Reyna and the girl in second place were already there when Annabeth arrived, but she made a pointed effort to avoid meeting their eyes. There was a small crowd there as well, composed of the friends and family of the competitors, but there wouldn’t be anyone Annabeth knew among them: Percy had a swim meet, Jason’s race still wasn’t over yet, and none of her other friends knew about the meet. Having to stand before a crowd of applauding strangers, a bronze medal clutched tightly in her fists, was apparently only the cherry on top of the banana split of abuses she was destined to suffer today.

The whole affair was, thankfully, mercifully short. Annabeth left the tent immediately afterwards so that no one would have a chance to stop and talk to her. Her intended destination had been the parking lot, but it only took a few steps for her to realize her legs were still too noodly to embark on such an arduous journey. So instead, Annabeth found herself a nice patch of grass where she could lie down and promptly threw her arm over her eyes to escape the insulting brightness of the sun.

It was hard to say how long she stayed like that, but her exhaustion had pushed her dangerously close to falling asleep before someone sat down beside her.

“It was a good race.”

Annabeth raised her arm to peek up at Reyna who was sitting beside her, her knees hugged close to her chest. The temptation to ignore her briefly crossed her mind before Annabeth sighed and forced herself to sit up. Competition always did bring out the worst in her.

“It was,” Annabeth admitted, brushing the grass off the back of her jersey.  

Reyna cocked her head to the side and stared intently at her. “You don’t seem too pleased.”

Annabeth shrugged and said, “To be fair, I’m rarely pleased.”

Reyna surprised her when she held her stomach and laughed. It was the first time Annabeth had heard her laugh – there was a rich, deep, almost raspy quality to it. Annabeth didn’t know if it was because Reyna seemed so guarded all the time, but there was something disarmingly charming about her when she laughed.

“You were seriously amazing,” Annabeth said, sighing.

“So were you,” Reyna said, raising an eyebrow. “Getting third is an amazing accomplishment.”

Annabeth shrugged in a way she hoped was nonchalant. “That was mostly because you were generous enough to let me run with you.”

Reyna snorted and said, “False modesty isn’t a good look on you.”

Annabeth forced herself to breathe to keep from snapping at her – Reyna hadn’t meant any harm, she reminded herself.  

“I’m serious – training with you was super helpful. It helped me break out of a rut that I’d been stuck in for nearly a month.”

Reyna appraised her silently for a few moments before she smiled. “Well, I’m glad it helped.”

Annabeth nodded and picked at the grass in an effort to distract herself before Reyna cleared her throat and said, “Have you thought about what I asked you last time?”

It took her a moment to understand what Reyna was talking about before Annabeth realized that she was referring to how she’d asked her out.

“I have,” Annabeth said slowly. “I gave it a lot of thought, but I’m sorry but my answer is still the same. I don’t think I can go out with you.”

She was surprised to see Reyna deflate slightly – she honestly hadn’t thought it would have mattered much to her. Annabeth couldn’t help feeling a little bad, especially after she realized how shitty her timing had been.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Annabeth said quickly. “I should’ve picked a better time. I didn’t mean to ruin your victory or anything.”

Reyna sighed and leaned back on her elbows. “No, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked after all.”

Annabeth shifted in place and said, “I know it’s a dumb cliche, but it’s really not because of you or anything. Like, I think you’re amazing–”

“It’s fine, Annabeth,” Reyna interrupted. “I knew what I was getting myself into. I’m just glad that you took it seriously and gave it a lot of thought.”

Annabeth nodded, unsure of how to respond. There was something about Reyna that made her feel timid almost. Maybe it was because of how imposing she was, or perhaps it was the novelty of being asked out by a girl.

“I hope we can still be friends,” Annabeth ventured. “If you’re fine with that, I mean.”

“Yeah, of course,” Reyna said, sounding surprised. “I thought I might have been making you uncomfortable or something.”

Annabeth shook her head and said, “No, not at all.”

An almost shy smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “Well, in that case, I’d very much like to be friends.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asked, smiling.

“Yeah.”

It looked like Reyna was about to say something more, but she was interrupted by a familiar voice calling Annabeth’s name. Annabeth shielded her eyes from the sun to look for whoever had called her, only to gape when she saw Percy walking over to her, his hands stuffed in the front pocket of the partially unzipped black sweatshirt he was wearing.

“Percy? What are you doing here?” Annabeth asked incredulously, standing up. “I thought you had a swim meet?”

Percy stopped in front of her and shrugged, an easy grin sliding across his face. “Turns out they cancelled my meet last minute, so I made my way over here.”

Annabeth found herself grinning, unable to suppress her excitement. “How long have you been here?”

“I got here a bit before your race started. I saw you stretching, but I didn’t want to say anything in case I broke your focus,” Percy said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you make another one of those awful signs of yours?”

“Wow, rude?” Percy said. “It takes a lot of work to think of new puns every time, you menace.”

Annabeth found herself rolling her eyes. “You’re not really answering my question.”

“Well, unfortunately , I didn’t have enough time to make one on such short notice,” Percy sniffed.

“A true tragedy,” Annabeth said solemnly.

A beat passed before they both burst into laughter. Somehow, the disappointment she’d been feeling about the race wasn’t as crushing anymore. Annabeth still had no idea how he did that, even though she’d known him all these years – it was like a superpower almost.

Percy somehow knew what was on her mind, like he always did, because he softened and offered her a warm smile.

“I know you’re probably not happy since you were so close to getting second, but I still think you were brilliant,” he said, opening his arms for a hug.

Annabeth managed a scratchy laugh and shook her head. “I’ll pass. I’m all gross and sweaty right now.”

She didn’t even have enough time to make a sound of surprise when Percy pulled her into his arms all the same.

“What are you doing?” Annabeth whispered.

“Shh, I’m being your boyfriend right now,” Percy mumbled.

Annabeth froze, her arms stuck at her sides, as Kara’s words echoed in her mind: Anyone could tell that he was super in love with you.

She pulled away from his embrace and coughed surreptitiously, her eyes trained resolutely on her feet. Her heart raced in her chest and her thoughts were fragmented, like shards of broken glass, as they tried desperately to read into what Percy had meant. Had Kara been right after all? Was he just playing the role Annabeth had asked him to play? Or was it something else entirely?

It was only after Reyna stood up and cleared her throat that Annabeth felt herself come back down to Earth. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d totally forgotten Reyna had been there watching the entire time.

“I should probably get going,” Reyna said slowly.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Annabeth said, trying not to sound too flustered.

Reyna her hands balled into fists by her sides as her eyes flitted between Percy and Annabeth. There was an intensity to her expression that suggested she had something more to say but she just sighed.

“I’ll text you later?” Reyna said.

Annabeth didn’t trust her capacity to form words at that moment so she settled for nodding. Reyna lingered for a little longer and stared at Percy, her mouth set in a hard line, before she turned on her heels and left.

After Reyna was gone, Percy turned to Annabeth, a wry smile on his face, and said, “Do you want to head to Martha’s? I could kill for some fries right now.”

Annabeth barely registered what Percy had said because of the way her thoughts ricocheted in her brain like particles rebounding inside an accelerator. If it hadn’t been for her encounter with Kara, Annabeth wouldn’t have thought much of what just happened, but now her mind was unconsciously beginning to piece together subtle details in Percy’s mannerisms, body language, expressions, and words, details that she wouldn’t have typically noticed.

“Are you jealous?” Annabeth asked incredulously.

Percy blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Are you jealous of Reyna?”

“Why would I be jealous of her?” Percy asked, brows knitting together.

To anyone else, his deception would have been perfect, but Annabeth knew him better that she knew herself, so she noticed the way his eyes had flitted to the side, so quickly it couldn’t be called an instant, just before he’d answered.

Annabeth paused for a moment and said, “I was just turning her down, you know?”

A myriad of unspoken emotions flashed in Percy’s eyes before he mustered a wan smile. “As your fake-boyfriend, I am relieved to hear you say that.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. There it was again, that strange undercurrent in his voice. She knew how he sounded when he was just teasing – it wasn’t this heavy. He was hiding something from her again. She repressed the immediate instinct to press him about it, even though she wanted to do nothing more. After the consequences of the last time she’d given in to that part of herself and torturing herself for it all week, Annabeth was not going to make the same mistake.

No, she would not break Percy’s trust like that, never again.

Annabeth stomached the frustration boiling in her stomach and cleared her throat. “Well, good. As long as you understand.”

The tension hung heavily in the air for a little while longer until Annabeth’s fatigue caught up to her and her knees buckled beneath her. Percy caught her before she fell and looped her arm around his neck so she could rest her weight against him, his free hand resting on her hip for support. He hummed under his breath when Annabeth murmured her thanks and helped her towards the parking lot.

She could feel his pulse through her forearm, steady and gentle, like always. Something about that made a cocktail of emotions swirl inside her. It was hard to make sense of these newfound, conflicting feelings of betrayal and implicit trust, wariness and fondness, distance and warmth.

This wasn’t them, and she hated it.

Once they stopped in front of her car, Percy waited for her to fish her keys from her pocket before he helped her inside. He crouched in the door frame, his fingers drumming an erratic beat against the top of the car, and watched Annabeth buckle her seat belt with a slight frown on his face.

“You are okay to drive, right?”

Annabeth mustered a smile and nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to hang out,” Percy said quietly. “Don’t force yourself.”

“That’s not it. I’m just disappointed about the race is all,” Annabeth lied.

The unmasked concern that shone in his eyes made Annabeth want to cry. She bit her lip and stared at her lap to avoid seeing that earnest look on his face, but she could feel the worry radiating from him all the same. Percy lingered for a few more seconds before he stepped back and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt.

Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “I’ll meet you at Martha’s in like an hour. I have to get home and shower and change.”

“Okay,” Percy said slowly. “I’ll see you there then?”

When Annabeth nodded, Percy opened his mouth like he wanted to say something before he hit his leg softly with his fist. He gave her a thin smile before turning and heading to his car.

Annabeth counted to thirty before she allowed herself to slam her forehead against the steering wheel. She hated lying to him, more than anything, but it was better than Percy reading too much into her foul mood and somehow discovering she’d gone behind his back and spoken to Kara. Annabeth had never been very good at keeping things from him, and she was terrified of what would happen if he pressed her on her strange behavior.

She started her car and pulled out of the parking lot, her fingers turning white around the steering wheel. As Annabeth drove along the highway, a lump formed in her throat that refused to disappear no matter how much she swallowed.

:::

Annabeth was the first to make it to Martha’s, even though she’d walked. When she arrived, there were a few regulars sitting at the countertop conversing quietly. A few of them gave her a nod of acknowledgement but otherwise kept to themselves. Annabeth found an empty booth by the windows and sat down, her elbows resting on the table. Percy hadn’t texted her that he was running late or anything, so she decided to wait for a while before she called him.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long because Percy’s blue Honda Accord pulled into the parking lot only a few minutes later. Percy looked slightly out of breath as he jogged into the dinner, the sleeves of his black sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows.

“Sorry I’m late,” Percy said breathlessly.

Annabeth shrugged. “It’s fine. I already ordered some fries and milkshakes for us, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Percy slid into the seat opposite her and flashed her a grin. “As long as you got me a chocolate milkshake, I’m satisfied.”

“Some things never change, huh?” Annabeth said, a small smile on her lips. “Same flavor since third grade, right?”

“Only here though. Most of the other places just dump Hershey’s syrup into a vanilla milkshake and call it a day,” Percy said, sounding disgusted.

Annabeth’s smile widened despite herself. “Blasphemous.”

Percy threw his hands up in the air and said, “Exactly! It’s false advertising! Misleading the customer and all that.”

“You should file a complaint or something,” Annabeth said mildly. “Not sure who you’d send it to though.”

“The president obviously.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of Annabeth. “I’m pretty sure he has better things to do.”

“It’s a matter of national importance, Annabeth!” Percy protested. “Frankly, it’s un-American. Goes against everything our founding fathers stood for.”

“Unfortunately, they didn’t have the capacity to imagine humanity was capable of such treachery. Otherwise, I’m sure it would have made it into the Constitution,” Annabeth said, sighing melodramatically for effect.

Percy grinned and said, “You stole the words right out of my mouth.”

“To be fair, the founding fathers aren’t exactly the best barometer for moral standards, seeing as how almost all of them were insanely racist and everything.”

“Careful, Annabeth,” Percy said. “It sounds like you’re implying the ideas of a bunch of old white dudes from the 17th century might not have been a good foundation for government.”

“18th century,” Annabeth corrected. “You always have to add one to whatever the century was.”

Percy flopped his head against the seat back and sighed. “Fuck, yeah, this is the 21st century. I always forget to do that.”

That was when their waitress came by with their fries and shakes. Percy immediately took a long sip of his milkshake, emptying nearly half of it as Annabeth took a handful of fries. The fries at Martha’s were nothing short of divine – they were perfectly crispy on the outside, but fluffy on the inside, with a sprinkle of sea salt on top that somehow managed to coat each fry just the right amount.

They were mostly quiet as they devoured their fries and shakes. Annabeth, in particular, ate more fries than she probably should have, but she couldn’t help it. After such an intense meet, her stomach was ravenous for anything edible. It was fine, she told herself. Her metabolism would take care of it.

Annabeth stole the last fry off Percy’s plate, making him scowl, and suppressed a groan as she ate it – it had been too long since she’d come here.

“I think the last time we were here together was after the first meet of the season,” Percy said suddenly.

Annabeth blinked. “Are you a psychic or something? That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Took you long enough to notice,” Percy said, smirking.

“Alright smartass, what am I thinking about then right now?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Easy, you’re thinking that I can’t possibly know what you’re thinking about and that I’m full of shit,” Percy said, shrugging.

Annabeth’s jaw dropped, which was enough to send Percy into a fit of laughter.

“What the fuck? How did you do that?”

Percy gave her a significant look. “Annabeth, we’ve been best friends since 2nd grade. I’d be a really shitty friend if I didn’t have a grasp of how you think by now.”

When Annabeth was silent, Percy shrugged and said, “I mean, I’m pretty sure you can guess what’s on my mind too.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and stared at her empty strawberry shake. She would have agreed to that statement if Percy had said it at the start of the school year, but now– now she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Thankfully, that was when the waitress came by with the bill. Annabeth fished in her wallet for her half of the meal and gave Percy a challenging look, knowing he’d argue that he should pay for her. To her surprise, Percy sighed and just added enough money for his half.

It was already beginning to darken outside when they made their way outside after receiving their change. The sky was dyed a light purplish-blue hue, and the moon was just visible if you looked hard enough. Percy stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and shivered slightly when a gust of wind blew past them.

“I don’t see your car here,” Percy said, looking around the parking lot. “Did you seriously walk here even though you had a meet earlier today?”

“I wasn’t in the mood to ask my dad for the keys,” Annabeth said. “Besides, it’s literally only like a twenty minute walk.”

Percy laughed and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Wonder Woman.”

Annabeth shoved him playfully, making Percy scowl. “What should we do next?”

Percy shrugged. “Whatever we want.”

“Thanks, that really narrows down our options, Einstein.”

“Don’t be such an ass,” Percy said, laughing. “What do you want to do?”

Annabeth took a moment to consider and said, “I guess we could just drive around?”

“Sounds like a plan!” Percy said.

He unlocked his car and stuck his tongue out at her for her good measure before he sat inside. Annabeth shook her head in mock-exasperation and slipped into the passenger side seat, hiding a smile. Despite everything, it was a relief to know that if she got out of her own head, things didn’t have to be so hard between them.

As Percy pulled out of the parking lot, Annabeth fiddled with the radio until she found something that she liked, ultimately settling on a variety station that was playing hits from the 2000’s. Annabeth grinned at Percy and turned up the volume when “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance came on. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat and looked over when Annabeth began singing along at the top of her lungs.

“What a surprise,” Percy said, smiling widely. “You hardly ever sing.”

When Annabeth shrugged, Percy gave her a glance and said, “Do you remember how Thalia sat us down at the start of middle school and showed us this song?”

“She said something about showing us dorks what real music was, if I remember correctly.”

“Thalia always did have a way with words,” Percy said sagaciously.

“She sure did,” Annabeth said, sighing. “I wish she would visit more. She’s hardly ever come by since she went to college.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. She never did like it here, after all,” Percy said.

“I just miss her that’s all,” Annabeth said, hugging her knees to her chest. “I could use her advice right about now.”

Percy raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Thalia was good at giving advice?”

Annabeth smiled and said, “Okay, fair point, but I still think it would be nice to talk to her.”

“Hmm, she always cussed me out anytime she saw me.”

“That was only because she was fond of you,” Annabeth said dismissively.

Percy looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “So that’s who you get it from then: your habit of being mean to the people you care about?”

Annabeth was momentarily taken aback by the accuracy of his statement, but she quickly recovered and said, “Excuse me, I’m nothing but rainbows and sunshine.”

“Nobody that’s met you for more than five minutes would ever accuse you of that,” Percy said, snorting.

“Wow, rude.”

Percy gave her a significant look. “It’s the truth, babe.”

Annabeth jabbed him with her elbow like she was irritated, but that just made Percy’s smile grow wider. Annabeth rolled her eyes and hid her smile before looking out the window. For a while, they drove in silence, but it was a companionable sort of silence.

The sound of the wheels on the road provided a backdrop to the music playing through the radio and helped it bleed into the scenery, like something out of a music video or a YA movie. Annabeth found herself thinking that this was perhaps the first time in the past month and a half that she’d felt truly relaxed. For once, her thoughts weren’t so loud – instead they slid off her conscious awareness like raindrops on a pane of glass as she drank in the roving landscape.

It was hard to say how long they spent like that, just driving in silence and simply enjoying being around one another, but at some point Percy pulled off the highway and drove into a small park. Once they came to a stop, Annabeth stirred after they stopped and stepped outside. She took a moment to stretch and was forced to stifle a yawn – meets always made her super tired. Besides, it was getting late – the stars were clearly visible now against the inky sky.

Percy clambered on top of his car before extending a hand to her and pulling her up and laying down. Annabeth followed his lead, but the metal was cold against her skin and made her shiver. Percy noticed her rubbing her arms for warmth and unzipped his sweatshirt and handed it to her.

“You sure?” Annabeth asked, looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m much better with the cold than you are,” Percy said, shrugging.

Annabeth stifled a smile and draped the sweatshirt around her body like a blanket instead of wearing it normally while Percy crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the sky. The sky was clearer here than it was in Westwood, presumably because there was less light pollution, so it looked like there was an ocean of stars hanging above their heads.

“Where exactly are we?” Annabeth whispered.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Percy admitted quietly. “I just saw an exit off the highway and felt like taking it.”

Annabeth stifled another yawn and said, “It’s nice here.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” Percy said before he turned his head to look at her. “It’s okay if you fall asleep. You seem tired.”

She shook her head and said, “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’m just a little worn out from the meet.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Percy said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About me being tired?”

“No, about the meet. You still seem kind of down about it,” Percy said.

Annabeth sighed and shut her eyes. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“Of course not,” Percy said, grinning. “I’m a psychic, remember?”

“Can you read other people’s brains or am I the only exception?” Annabeth asked, trying for levity.

When Percy answered, there was an aching fondness in his eyes that made her heart squeeze a little in her chest.

“No, it’s only ever been you,” he said softly.

Annabeth cleared her throat and tried frantically to think of a joke, but she couldn’t do that after such an obvious display of sincerity. She sighed and took a moment to collect her thoughts before she spoke but thinking about the race only made her throat seize up.

“I guess I’m just disappointed,” Annabeth admitted slowly. “I know that third place is good and everything, but I still can’t help feeling like I really fucked up.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Percy said gently.

Annabeth shook her head and said, “No, that isn’t it.”

“Then what?”

“Well, I just ran the race of my life today, and somehow it still wasn’t good enough,” Annabeth said tightly. “And, honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll ever do better. Today was my best chance and I still managed to fuck it up somehow. Like, what if this is all I’m capable of?”

Percy took her hand in his and squeezed it once. “You will get better. I know it feels hopeless right now, but you have to believe that.”

“I’m just getting sick of always coming up short,” Annabeth said, her voice catching as she spoke. “It just hurts a little too much.”

“Running is a brutal sport,” Percy admitted. “You’re forced to surpass your limits over and over again, so it’s easy to lose sight of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve accomplished.”

Annabeth bit her quivering lower lip and nodded, her hands curled into fists at her sides. If she tried to speak now, she was pretty sure she’d burst into tears.  

“For what it’s worth,” Percy said softly, “I know how hard you’ve worked and I think you have so much to be proud of.”

“Thanks,” Annabeth whispered. “That really means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

Despite the smile on his face, Annabeth’s throat constricted at the sight of the furrows in his brow. His concern and attentiveness were more than she probably deserved.

Why are you so achingly kind, Annabeth thought as she reached forward and pressed her index finger to Percy’s forehead.

“You worry too much,” Annabeth murmured.

She made to run her finger down his forehead to smooth out the creases, but Percy caught her wrist, lips brushing quickly against her knuckles.

“I can’t help it,” he said quietly. “Not when it comes to you.”

There was something about the juxtaposition of the rawness in his words and the way the spaces between their fingers fit so perfectly that it made her forget how to breathe.

In all their years of friendship, somehow she had never noticed how much larger his hands were then hers. His hands had always been gentle, like motes of dust waltzing in a beam of sunlight, but they were also different now somehow.

It was easiest to tell how much they had changed by the way they felt in her hands. When they were kids, they had been soft and pliant, small enough for her to tug him wherever she wanted around the playground. Later on, in their early adolescence, they became rougher and more tentative, like he was afraid his grip might hurt her, but they were still willing to follow her lead. But now, they were large enough to hide her hands and there was a steady, reassuring confidence about them that made her feel safe and said: I am right here.

“You really are a man now, huh?” Annabeth muttered unwittingly.

Percy looked at her like she’d sprouted a second head. “I’ve always been one, but thanks for noticing.”

Annabeth locked eyes with him and shook her head before whispering, “That’s not what I meant.”

Maybe she was imagining it, but Annabeth thought she saw a glimpse of realization flash in Percy’s eyes. He dropped her hand suddenly and looked pointedly away as his face flushed red.

Percy cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. “I meant to tell you this earlier, but I was contacted by a scout last week.”

Annabeth blinked the sleep out of her eyes and said, “Where from?”

“USC. They’re giving me a scholarship and everything if I join the swim team.”

“Percy, that’s great! Congratulations!” Annabeth beamed.

“Thanks,” Percy said quietly. “Can’t believe there’s only a few months left before high school is over for good. It feels weird to even think about.”

“I get what you mean. Sometimes, I wish I could stop time for a while just to take a moment to breathe instead of feeling like I’m strapped to a roller-coaster that only ever goes faster and faster,” Annabeth whispered.

“Half-asleep Annabeth is oddly poetic, huh?” Percy said, a teasing grin on his face.

Annabeth rolled her eyes and found herself returning his smile, but eventually Percy’s smile slid away and a serious look came over him.

“Do you ever wonder about what will happen to us after we graduate?” he whispered.

“You mean our friendship?”

Percy nodded and said, “Yeah, like, I’m starting to realize that you won’t always be there and it’s low-key freaking me out.”

Annabeth rolled her bottom lip between her teeth and said, “We’ve been through worse before. Our friendship is strong enough to survive, I’m sure of it.”

“Four years is a long time though,” Percy said tightly. “Who’s to say we won’t change and drift apart?”

“I don’t know,” Annabeth admitted. “All I know is that nothing will ever stop me from thinking of you as my best friend.”

Percy smiled softly, shyly. “Me too.”

A companionable silence settled between them as they stared up at the night sky, occasionally punctuated by the crackling fire. Annabeth thought about what Percy had said about them not always being together – just thinking about it made her feel horribly empty. She wished that time would freeze so that they could stay like this forever, but she knew that it was nothing more than a fantasy.

Percy was right: time was running out. She couldn't afford to waste time even if she felt self-conscious and things were stilted between them, or to continue naively taking things for granted and assume nothing would change. After all, there was a risk that they wouldn’t ever be this close again. Maybe the coming months were all she would have left like this with him. Every atom in her body resisted the idea, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help acknowledging that it was a very real possibility.

Her mind scrambled for solutions but it was pointless – there was no way to account for the future, after all. A surge of gratitude washed through Annabeth as she looked at Percy. She was so glad he was with her here today. This moment was theirs, and she didn’t know how many more of them they’d have left. All she could really was to make the most of the time that they did have left, whether that was seven months or a hundred years. She just hoped it was closer to the latter.

[multiharlot]

too little too late / s. reid

summary: spencer and y/n have been together for about eight months and she’s beginning to pick up on some things she wish she could remain oblivious to.

warnings: nothing really, light cursing, definite angst, this one is a long one. lmao sorry (2 part imagine. so be on the lookout.)

masterlist 

part 2

y/n’s pov

there was always a little piece of her in everything we did. i had somehow become a third wheel in my own relationship. i had taken the backseat for someone who wasn’t even here anymore. i should have known. i should have known the moment i brought him along to get my haircut.

“how do you feel about blonde?” i ask, flipping through the color book.

spencer shrugged and looked over at the book, gently pulling it from my grasp.

“how about black?” he suggests, turning to the back of the book with the dark hair samples.

at the time, i didn’t think anything of it. and i didn’t think anything of it when he had also slyly suggested bangs. i never thought anything of it when his team came over for dinner one night and morgan had pointed out how i eerily resembled my boyfriends deceased ex-lover. i never thought anything of it when spencer would lock himself away, rereading her letters or running his fingers over the book she had gifted him. perhaps it was because i didn’t want to think of it. i wanted to deny it until he had more time to make room for me in his still heavy heart. losing a lover wasn’t an easy thing to cope with, and i had no idea what he was going through. so i only thought, that this was how it was supposed to be. i let myself believe that this sort of treatment was normal. but it’s not.

“hey spence?”

“hmm” he hums tiredly as he tightens his grip around my waist.

i drag my finger over his smooth forearm, tracing the veins bulging through his skin.

“i love you”

“mmm love you too” he mumbles into my neck as he slowly drifts off into sleep.

this was the night i finally had to admit to myself that maybe this man wasn’t as good for me as i thought he was. as i laid in bed, facing my exhausted lover, i placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb softly over his stubbled cheek and letting my hand travel from underneath his jaw and into his hair. a content sigh falling past my lips as i studied every inch of his face. as if i had to memorize it before it could dissipate from my view. a gentle and tired smile reaches spencer’s face and he opens his mouth slightly, sucking in a breath of air, and mumbling softly as he exhaled.

“maeve...”

my hand froze and i quickly retracted it from his soft brown curls. my heart plummeted into my stomach and my throat tightened. spencer sometimes talked in his sleep, and it was one of the things i grew to love so much about him. one of the many things. but as he continues to mumble her name amongst the sweet nothings that escaped his lips, i had never hated his quirks more than i did right in this moment. i shifted my body onto my back and spencer pulled me closer, her name still escaping his lips from time to time. this made my mind race. what had she looked like? was morgan right? do i actually look like her? was that the only reason why spence was with me? i hadn’t actually realized how long i had laid there, staring at the blank ceiling, but before i knew it, the sun began poking through the blinds in spencer’s bedroom window. i still found my body paralyzed from the emotions when spencer’s phone rang out. i quickly turned my body away from his, closing my eyes and i listened to him groan and grab his phone from the table. 

“hello?”

“yeah...yeah okay i’ll be there.” 

he lets out a long sigh and throws the sheets off of his body. i kept my eyes closed as i listen to his rummage through the room. eventually, i hear his footsteps come closer to me and he runs his hand through my hair, his hand traveling down to my shoulder and he shakes me gently. 

“hmm?” i hum out, too afraid to look into his eyes. 

“i have to go, but i’ll call you. okay?”

“hmm.” i hum, flipping my body away from him. 

he lets out a chuckle before i hear him exiting the apartment. i release a breath that i hadn’t realized i was holding and sit up in bed, staring at closed closet doors. the letter filled box screaming at me through screens of the door. i threw the covers off of my body and searched through the articles of clothing and pulled the small shoebox from the back end of the closet, carefully opening the lid and flipping through the opened envelopes. every part of me wanted to read what the letters had said, but i had decided that i had already gone far enough into invading his privacy. but between the envelopes, i found what i had been searching for. the small 4x4 wallet sized photo of a beautiful woman. i looked as though he had taken the photo from a print out of a new article, but she was beautiful. far more beautiful than i could have been, no matter how many times i cut my hair, no matter what color i chose to dye it. no matter how many boxes of contact lenses i had purchased to replace my glasses or how many new articles of clothing i purchased because spencer had told me how much he enjoyed seeing them on me while we were at the store. i wiped my wet cheeks and tucked the photo back into the box, every bone in my body had began to shake with anger and embarrassment. angry at what a fool i was to fall into his tricks. embarrassed that i hadn’t noticed what exactly he was doing. i was giving my all to someone who was giving me nothing in return and now i had been run dry. i took a deep breath and put the box back into the closet. i stood from the ground and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, writing out the note. 

spencer, 

i cannot compete with someone who cannot be here to claim their victory. i refuse to continue playing the fool. i love you. and i tried to understand your pain. i tried to help you through your struggles despite the hurt you inflicted on me every time you turned me away to pine after someone who couldn’t possibly respond to you. and maybe i’m being harsh right now, but it’s been years since she passed, spencer. you had so many chances to not continue this relationship. i had left the door open for so long, yet you insisted that you were ready for this. and i let myself believe that you were. but i can’t keep pretending to be somebody you need. i can’t continue being a surrogate for the love you lost. i won’t keep laying next to you when my name isn’t the name that’s leaving your lips when you fall asleep. i can’t stay with you when i’m not the woman you’re dancing with in your dreams. i hope you find peace, spencer. everyone deserves peace. just please don’t try and find peace in somebody else again.

y/n

a sob escaped my lips as i neatly folded the paper, leaving it on top of his desk. the morning sun was still high and bright in the sky. i grabbed my phone from the side of the table and dialed my best friends number, i knew he wouldn’t be awake right now, and should this be any other circumstance, i wouldn’t be calling. 

“y/n? why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” he groans, making me chuckle as i wipe the running snot from my nose onto my sleeve. 

is that gross? yes. do i care? not particularly no. 

“trevor? i umm...i need you to come get me.” i whimper as i walk around his home, collecting my things that were placed sporadically throughout his apartment. 

“what? what’s wrong? where are you?” he rushes out, i hear his keys jangling through the other end of the phone as i ran my finger over a framed photo of us that was placed gently on the mantle. 

“i’m at spencer’s. i’ll tell you when you get here.” i sniffle. 

“yeah. okay. i’ll be there soon. do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“no...just...get here.”

i hung up the phone and take the photo from the frame, deciding to leave no memory of us. as if we had never existed. because that’s certainly how it felt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*10 months later* 

“daniel, baby, please breathe.” i smile, placing my hand on my boyfriend’s broad chest to withhold him from his continuous rambling. 

he chuckles, taking a deep breath before nodding his head. 

“i know i know. i’m sorry. this guy just...i moved here to get away from the big town crime. yet here i am, dealing with some rambunctious serial killer.” he frumps, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

i give him a gentle smile and clean up the plastic containers littering the small coffee table in his office where we were taking a quick lunch break after i had finished my all night shift at the hospital.

“yeah well, you have the fbi coming in. they’ll help you figure this out.” i say as i throw the containers into the garbage. 

“and i have my beautiful trauma nurse girlfriend who will definitely come save my life if i have a panic attack over this?” he asks, a dopey smile on his face. 

“of course.” i giggle, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

there’s a soft knock at the door and one of his deputies pokes his head into the office. 

“hey guys, sorry to interrupt but that fbi team is here.”

daniel looks at me apologetically and i wave him off. 

“go greet them. i’ll finish cleaning up in here and then i’ll head off.”

“okay. thank you. and let me know when you get back home please?”

i nod my head and he stands up from the couch, placing another kiss to my lips before walking out of the office. i had met daniel about a month after moving away from quantico. we had met on my first day at the hospital after he had sprained his wrist after tripping to get a cat out of a tree. i was originally very hesitant to get into another relationship so soon after spencer, but daniel had proved to be ten times the man spencer ever was. daniel showered me with the love and affection i never got from spencer, and he always reassured me when i needed it. he was so patient with me and took good care of my fragile heart. soon enough, i found myself in love with the small town sheriff and had long forgotten about the man who took my love and ran with the wind. that was, until i walked into the middle of the small office and came face to face with the bau. 

“y/n” morgan gasps quietly and my eyes skim over the team, eventually meeting spencer’s. 

my heart skipped a beat and my hands turned into fists at my side as i gripped tightly onto the pants of my scrubs. i felt a hand on my lower back and my vision shifts upwards to my curious boyfriend. 

“you guys know each other?” he asks, flipping his line of sight from me to the team. 

“yeah ummm...i didn’t know you brought the bau in...” i mumble, and daniel nods cautiously. 

“yeah i did...are you okay, y/n?”

i cleared my throat, grabbing daniels button up and dragging him down to my level, standing on my toes as i whispered into his ear. 

“spencer’s on this team.” i whisper quickly before releasing him from my grasp. 

“oh...oh” he says, his eyebrows raised as his eyes fall onto spencer. 

i quickly elbow his side and smile nervously at the team still standing in front of me. 

“well, ya’ll have a serial killer to catch, and i have z’s to catch. i’m really tired, so i’m gonna head home. but it was nice seeing you all.” i smile, nodding my head awkwardly as the deputy leads them into the back of the station to set up. 

spencer’s gaze never pulls away from me and i shift uncomfortably. 

“hey, are you sure you don’t want to stay at my house?” daniel asks worriedly. 

i roll my eyes, placing my hand gently on his cheek. 

“i will be just fine. nobody will mess with me knowing i’ve got a mr. beefy boy as a boyfriend.” i wink, bumping my hip with his. 

“yeah, stronk beef cake will protecc and attacc.” his deputy snorts, making me throw my head back in laughter. 

daniel rolls his eyes and grabs my chin, pulling my face up and pressing a swift kiss on my lips. 

meanwhile, spencer and morgan stood at the table, both staring intensely at the sheriff and the woman who used to look at the resident boy genius the same way she looked at this small town sheriff.

“looks like you’re too little too late, kid.” morgan says, placing an empathetic hand on spencer’s shoulder. 

“i lost one love, i’ll be damned if i lose another.”

[fangirlbase]

The Howl of the Moon- Remus Lupin

Summary:

After a terrible accident in the battle at the Ministry in 1995, Hermione Granger wins a one-way ticket to the past. Unable to go back to his time, his only chance for survival is to adapt to the late 70s and get on with his life, interfering as little as possible so that the future does not fall apart.

However, everything goes downhill when Remus John Lupine starts to notice too much the new girl who clearly wanted to go unnoticed by Hogwarts.

Chapters: Prolog | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

Warnings: mature

                                      3. The one on Valentine's Day

It was amazing how three weeks went by so quickly. One day they were heading back to Hogwarts and the next they were either bragging or despairing about not having a romantic partner.

The damn - or blessed - Valentine's Day had finally arrived.

Not only the Gryffindor tower but the ENTIRE castle was in chaos! Flower explosions here, little paper planes flying elsewhere as if it weren't an educational institution on a school day. Lilly Evans herself barely knew where to put her face after receiving her third bouquet of flowers that day.

- Flowers for another flower! - James declaimed whenever he appeared with another bouquet, stealing a breathtaking kiss from both his girlfriend and others.

The teachers had already reached a point where they were not even trying to contain the dispersion, only having accepted that it was impossible to compete with the expectation of a meeting. While James was spoiling Lilly more than usual, things weren't going that well for the other marauders.

I mean, they didn't go well because they didn't want to. Although Sirius had distributed several cards, none of them were returned. That dog had managed to tarnish his reputation with all the flirt and non-girlfriend girls at that school - but that didn't mean he had been left empty-handed, no! Unfortunately for him, the only response he got was from Marlene Mckinnon the only person he hadn't sent anything to. But despite everything, she hadn't pushed any closer since the day of back-to-school - which didn't mean he could goof around.

Dragging his two single friends, Sirius sought to slip past a certain tall, dark girl - however he was available to anyone else who wanted a little attention. It was specifically at the free time after lunch that things started to get intense.

- Do you really want to stop by? - Remus asked his friend terrified.

- If we don't go this way, we won't be able to leave. The way is to take a risk. - Sirius spoke with a little fear in his voice. - On three.

- THREE! - Peter yelled, stepping out in front of the two and covering his head as best he could.

Anyone listening would think they were about to abandon a trench and run across a field amid volleys of bullets, and though it was infinitely more harmless than that war scenario, the thought wasn't entirely wrong. The entire corridor in the west wing of the castle had been transformed into a passage for cards and enchanted planes, which could seriously injure anyone who took risks at that time, not to mention the owls that carried various packages of presents.

But they lived with a werewolf, what was a paper cut or a plane in the eye compared to Moony in the middle of a full moon?

Rushing away, Peter managed to gain distance, leaving Sirius and Remus behind. Indignant, Sirius barked a curse word loud and clear, darting after the smaller one, defending himself as best he could from the paper planes and their sharp edges.

- Oh, oh, oh! - He yelled as he was shot at by the fury of the invitations, not realizing if Remus had followed him or not.

Remus was the strongest of the three, the one who could pick up speed more easily. And even though he hid it most of the time, he loved bursts of energy like that. If Harry, Ronald and Hermione faced a series of keys in their first year, Sirius, Peter and Remus faced spells in their last year - with the exception that one of them found it all a lot of fun.

In the blink of an eye, Remus was running. His movements were quick, he could easily dodge the spikes on his face - but he wasn't quick enough to stop one from swooping close to his neck - which took him to the ground. Retrieving his backpack with ease, he moved half crouched half standing, gaining distance once more, leaving only the sound of his laugh as indicative of his presence in the hallway.

- You think it's funny, don't you? - Sirius looked askance at the werewolf. - I was hit several times and you think it's funny! - He showed the various paper cuts suffered on his arms.

- Nobody tells you to go out singing everybody out there. - Peter snitched. - A lot of people don't like you for that.

- It's not my fault if I get to the girls first!

- But they also don't like not being special to you, man. You flirt with everybody. - Remus completed.

- Ainh, ain... AT LEAST I RECEIVED A CARD! -  Sirius tried to brag, knowing the background of the two friends who were too shy to invite anyone. But that year he hadn't received a look of envy, just one of pity and shame. -What? Did you receive any? - Padfoot was surprised.

"One." Peter was the first to agree, while Remus just wavered.

Despite liking girls, Lupine couldn't even consider the possibility that he would be aesthetically beautiful to others. Both his condition and his extensive scars horrified him to such an extent that he intended to remain celibate until the last second of his life, both for fear of suffering further rejection or humiliation and for not condemning anyone to share these humiliations with him.

But that didn't stop him from receiving cards.

Annoyed, Sirius just snorted and went on his way. How long had it been since he had kissed on the mouth? Did you give a measly peck? More than he would have liked! But hope was the last to die and even though he was not Brazilian, he never gave up! And speaking of never giving up…. Here was his chance sitting on the lawn next to the Quidditch pitch!

Remus froze in place as he realized where his friend was headed. Was it serious that even on Valentine's Day Sirius left Hermi-Jean alone?! Lupine just wanted to disappear, he didn't want her to think he had something to do with all that, but at the same time…

Jean, in turn, just wanted some time in peace, to get away from all that mess of flowers and chocolates, resorting to the last place she would go of her own free will: the Quidditch pitch. Not literally him, as it was closed at times when there were no practices or games, but the area close to him. Sitting at the opening of the field to the castle, she was coexisting with one particular Slytherin who appeared to be as immersed in the books as she was.

She just wanted peace, but then Black showed up.

Jean seriously considered running into Snape's arms and coming up with some excuse for him to get her out of there - but if he did that right then Sirius would pester them and still fight the poor snake whose natural state was a bad mood.

- Granger! Do you come here a lot? My practices are only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. - Sirius played charm, ignoring her eye roll.

- I'm glad I'm very busy on that day and time.

- Come on, Granger! Why be alone even on Valentine's Day?

- I say the same about you. Wasn't it supposed to be surrounded by suitors?

- Not when I only have eyes for one. Do you want to go out with me today?

Remus was stunned. He didn't know why, but he was very interested in how it turned out.

- Only if you close your eyes first. - Jean blinked her eyes primly and spoke shyly, implying that she would kiss him first.

Euphoric as he was, Sirius didn't notice the real signs. Closing his eyes and pouting his mouth, he didn't notice when Jean grimaced and rolled her eyes, pulling her wand out of her bag and sending a flurry of nervous birds at him.

- OH, OH, OH! THIS IS WORSE THAN PAPERS! - Sirius tried to protect himself, seeing no other solution if he didn't run away.

"Ha-ha…" Severus Snape let out a laugh, amused by Black's love affair, but returned to his mask of disinterest when he noticed that the brunette and the two remaining Gryffindors were looking at him equally amused.

The Slytherin, who had already been left hanging upside down with his pants down, felt minimally vindicated. Of course the birds didn't come close to the rematch he'd like, but it was a start.

And if on the one hand Severus smiled, on the other Peter and Remus laughed.

- I wonder if one day he will still manage to get married. Even the newcomer didn't care for him! - Said Wormtail.

Remus didn't respond to his friend, too busy snuggling up to his prefect who just responded with a friendly wink, then went back to his books. And Remus was betting 10 Galleons that she was rereading “Hogwarts: A History” once more.

***

A few hours later Remus found himself sitting at his usual desk in the transfiguration room, prepared for the tutoring time. This was supposed to be the fourth week of help, but mysteriously no living soul had set foot in that room at the specific time.

He seriously suspected that the students would only show up the day before exams, desperate for first-period subjects, while Hermione was already betting that no one would actually show up. Come on, it was the weird newbie and scarred Gryffindor guy! WHO would dare to step foot in the monitoring?

Exactly, no one.

And with that in mind, he settled into his seat and waited patiently, noticing from his wristwatch that his colleague was five, ten, fifteen minutes late. Had something happened? Had the would-be diners surrounded her? Or would she be on a date?

"Then I'm the curious one..." - Moony barked in his head, embarrassing him.

It didn't matter, he wasn't interested. Even because, it wouldn't have been a blunder of her not to show up and not warn him - since there wasn't even work since no student showed up to answer any questions. But if you were that curious, just ask her, who had just walked through the door with a smug smile on her face.

- MS. Granger, did something happen? - Remus asked in an amused and curious tone.

- Let's say yes. I'm sorry I was late.

- Did someone ask you out?

Hermione was shocked by the direct question, but knowing his background would probably be no big deal, just a bad sentence formulation.

- You know it did, and you know very well what happened too.

- Made him angrier than usual. The poor man had just suffered multiple paper cuts when he was pecked by all those birds. Cool spell, where did you learn it?

- Let's say…. Sirius wasn't the first to receive my flock of birds. Do you know if he ratted me out to Minerva?

- No, why?

“I was called to her office to hear a lecture about how I shouldn't hurt my classmates with magic when they're unprepared, but I think she liked that. As the only ones who saw it were you, Pettigrew, him and Snape. And I doubt Snape created any sense of justice for you….

- It was either him or Peter. I honestly don't think it was Peter, he has nothing against you.

In fact, out of all four, Wormtail was the one who paid the least attention to the girl - whether she bewitched Sirius or not was irrelevant when he laughed at the flying papers himself. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't reciprocate the sentence and say that there was nothing against the smallest one either. In an attempt to go off on a tangent, she preferred to change the course of the conversation:

- Is that you? Did you receive an invitation?

She just doesn't expect his embarrassed look, as if she's ashamed of it.

- Come on, don't look like that….

- It's not that, I… I got some cards. Three, from different people. And chocolates.

- And isn't that cool?

- Not when I can't repay any of them...

"I didn't know you were already engaged, professor…" Hermione spoke more to herself, leaving the boy confused.

As far as he could remember, he didn't wear a ring on his finger when he taught her, but he was still a teenager… Maybe he had a girlfriend back in high school… he began to ponder getting lost in the future.

- I'm not committed, but I also don't want to get involved with anyone. I believe that…. Studies are more important. But what about you, teacher?

"I don't think it's for that much..." Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, embarrassed by the question and especially noticing her slip in referring to the teenager as if they were in 1993 and not 1978.

- And what makes you believe that I would also be a teacher? Remus asked with a crooked smile.

And a silence dominated the room. Flushed and eyes downcast, Hermione tried not to freak out that she'd let the fact that he would be a real teacher slip away - while at the same time Remus felt his heart flutter nervously at the possibility that she'd interpreted it as flirting.

- Well, anyway I signed under your thought! About studies, I say!

- Is that why you run away from Sirius so much?

- Oh, save me! I don't need reasons to run away from Sirius, have you seen how he flirts? Even someone with the emotional level of a teaspoon can be less…. He!

Remus chuckled. Jean was absolutely right about that.

"It's not that I don't want to get involved with anyone, but after all that has happened, and with the availability of options that exist here in the castle…" She rolled her eyes.

- No one is your type? - He was curious again.

Determined to abandon thoughts of the future and feeling confident, Hermione sat down next to Remus at the same table as him, asking for more space with her thigh - their biggest interaction so far! And as she pulled out her potions notebook to review, Lupine pulled a bar of chocolate from his cloak pocket, breaking it into tiny pieces.

- Accepted?

- What are the chances of you using me as a guinea pig for amortentia?

Remus smiled.

- My guinea pigs are not available today, would you mind? Besides, I have a lot of chocolate here.

Hermione remembered the day on the express, sophomore year. Professor Lupine had a huge bar of chocolate in his pocket and on second thought, he had no way of predicting the appearance of dementors. He must have been a chocoholic.

- I would love to, but if I eat now I won't be able to have dinner.

- Ah… - He was embarrassed. - Later then?

- I don't see why not.

***

Lilly couldn't be happier!

This was the first Valentine's Day he'd spent with anyone, and even though he'd only been with James for a few months, he'd turned out to be a completely different person than he'd been in years past. He had matured for her! Of course it wasn't like Lily wanted James, the romantic boyfriend, to be giving flowers and petting to the Slytherin would-be diners, but for him not looking for more fights it was a victory! Before the fateful day with Sev….Snape, they already overreact with bullying any Slytherin, even the youngest ones who weren't even purists. And for the redhead that rogue behavior was as reprehensible as any friend-person who called another person bad blood. That's why she refused James so many times, only accepting when he made the promise that he would change what he had actually done.

The past no longer mattered. Nothing that day could or would spoil his good mood. Although they didn't have dinner in the Great Hall, they ate by the black lake. James had ordered a nice picnic basket from the kitchens, spending that moment alone with his lily, exchanging all the kisses he'd managed before the giant squid got sick of all the molasses and splashed them with water.

Although slightly wet - I wouldn't say where - Lilly was beaming! However, they had to get back to the common room in time for her to change to go on her night watch. And when the couple arrived at the common room, they were faced with a vision of a Sirius, completely sullen and covered in... Band aids colored with pets? That was definitely not normal.

- Moony by chance decided to use you as a scratcher? James questioned his friend, disentangling himself from Lilly to check on his roommate's status.

- Humph…! - Sirius huffed in anger, shifting in his chair by the fire and grunting in pain from his bruises. - If he had tried I would have finished him, that yes!

- Where's Peter? - Lilly was surprised at his absence.

- On a date.

James and Lily looked at each other in shock.

- But who did this to you?

- His girlfriend, yes!

- Peter's girlfriend?

- No, from your other friend.

- Padfoot, Remus doesn't have a girlfriend...

- Oh no? So how do you explain that over there? - Sirius pointed to the other side of the Hall, indicating a Jean sitting in the worn armchair with Indian legs, eating the chocolate that Remus absently gave her.

Remus, sitting on the floor at the far end of the room, was laughing at something Jean said, breaking a few more pieces of chocolate which he then placed in the girl's hand. James didn't know how to feel. He wasn't shocked, just… happy. In all those years Remus Lupine had never been relaxed like that with anyone but the rascals and now Lily. In fact, he'd never been alone with a girl for so long, let alone laughing happily like that.

- Sirius, we need to celebrate, that's right! Can't you see how well he is?!

- Say it for yourself! I just asked her out and she cursed me! I had to go report to McGonagall for help!

- Oh, stop being dramatic, man! Can't be happy for Remus a minu…..Lilly?

But the redhead had already approached the couple, bursting their bubble.

- That's amazing, Remus! - She declared when she was close enough.

- I haven't eaten anything with amortentia? - He asked confused with the sentence of the redhead, not noticing Jean's body change.

- Also, but you guys are dating is so cute! I can finally go on double dates! What do you think?

- Sorry, dating? - Jean choked on the chocolate he was eating.

- Yeah, Sirius who told you. Why did you just tell him, Remus? And you, Jean! Now I won't need any more excuses to bring you closer!

- Ahhh... I, well I... Excuse me! Hermione didn't say or do anything else, just handed the candy bar back to Remus and got up, walking as fast as she could to her room, disappearing into the night.

- EVANS! Remus scolded the redhead, visibly irritated. - Why did I say that?! - His high tone mingling with Lilly's last name had drawn James' attention there, who, ignoring his injured friend, went to his girlfriend's rescue.

- What happened, Remus?

- Tell your girlfriend to stop trying to insinuate things in front of Jean, please! Sharing a chocolate is not synonymous with dating!

- But you were…

- Far away from each other, just talking! How many times have I not given you chocolate, Lilly?!

- Whenever you ask, love. - James defended the werewolf.

- And even so we're not dating! Are you aware of how long it took Jean to feel comfortable talking to me, especially publicly?

Remus was right to be that way. She was the first real friend he had ever made, and she loved the feeling of having a girl with whom to spend time, eat chocolate, laugh, study….

[bouncyirwin]

A Different Kind of Fic Rec

So ... you know how there’s good fic, and then there’s next tier fic? Like the kind that blow you out of this world? Ones that change you as a person? 

Those are rare gems across different fandoms. They’re just a handful really, but they’re so dense you come out a different person once you finish reading them. 

Without further ado ... my favourite next tier fics. Across different fandoms. 

Kill Your Heroes || Naruto || 272,492 words || Ongoing It's time to stop waiting for other people to save you. A story about fear, resilience, and Sakura.

** If you love Sakura centric fics, drop everything you’re doing and read this

backslide || Naruto || 128,352 words || Complete Naruto’s friends are gone, his lover is dying, Konoha is destroyed, and Madara’s second return has pushed the entire world to the brink. Hunted and harried, Naruto is sent back in time to upend Madara’s plan before it even starts, and sets about changing everything. Butterfly effect nothing: the world is at stake, and Naruto is hardly about to let it fall to ruin once more. Not while he’s still breathing.

ANBU Legacy || Naruto || Ongoing ** Absolute Favourite of All Time Vol. 1 - Complete - 196,000 words Vol. 2 - Complete - 210,000 words Vol. 3 - Complete - 217,000 words Vol. 4 - Complete - 250,000 words Vol. 5 - Ongoing 

ANBU Legacy is a collaborative serial novel based on the world of Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto. It follows an alternate timeline, taking place in a Konoha where the Yondaime defeated the Kyuubi — and lived. Set approximately four years after that event, Legacy is focused on the young men and women of ANBU, who took the vow to defend the Hokage and their village at all costs.

** If you love badass ANBU, team bonding, Kakashi Hatake, Gemna Shiranui, angst, All the Good Gay Shit, you NEED to read this. 

A Twist In Time || Naruto || 247,537 words || Complete With Konoha on the verge of destruction, Sakura is sent on a last-resort mission to save her world by travelling to the past. Join her in coping with her old body's shortcomings, testing the natural laws of time, falling in love all over again, and rediscovering who she is. Time-travel. SasuSaku.

** Coming from someone who actually hates SS, this fic is. Mind. Blowing. It’s Sakura-centric and features AMAZING character growth. I think I’ve reread this one 5+ times waiting for updates.

The Lives Worth Saving || Naruto || 134,188 words || Abandoned Naruto, at 26, has lived through 10 years of war. At the end, with nothing left to call home, he sends himself back to the beginning, to the day of his younger self's graduation, in an attempt to change it all. Time travel AU.

** That this fic is abandoned is an absolute tragedy, but it doesn’t stop me from rereading it endlessly. 

House of Crows || Naruto || 400,508 words || Complete KakaSaku. War is coming to Konoha and Sakura is far from home, uncertain of her future. But one thing is for sure, Sakura will protect her unborn child at all costs, whether it be from Konoha's enemies... or from its own father.

** This fic is so powerful it sent me into actual depression for like 2 weeks lmao

Pulling My Weight || Naruto || 375,630 words || Ongoing During the mission to Wave, Sakura realises that she has to become a better ninja for her teammates' sake and be someone they can depend on. She vows to take her training seriously, and receives help from the most unlikely of sources; Genma Shiranui. The two form an unlikely bond and stick together through thick and thin, while Sakura improves and meets other people along the way.

** So, so entertaining, but above all so satisfying. I must’ve reread this one 4 or 5 times while waiting for updates. 

Will of Fire || Naruto || 223,234 words || Complete Forced to flee their village and the new regime, the loyal shinobi of Konoha must find a way to preserve their way of life and take back their home. As they fight for their future, Team Seven struggles to overcome the past. KakaSaku

Once More, With Feeling || Naruto || 127,462 words || Complete Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.

** I read this one a very long time ago but it resonated so deeply (despite being in first person)

Stripped Bare || Naruto || 295,128 words || Complete When Sakura wanted a change of pace, she hadn't expected THIS! Now she's on a mission with Kakashi, masquerading as a dancer at a club far away from home and she finds herself forced to explore her own powers of sexuality and seduction. KakaSaku LEMON

** so IMPACTFUL. This is not a light read by any measure. 

Double Edged || Naruto || 347,047 words || Complete  Seduction is like a double edged sword. You never know when you'll go from being the seducer to being the seduced. KakaSaku

The Window || Naruto || 165,171 words || Complete Kakasaku Sakura always wanted to see Kakashi unmasked. This was a bit much though...

to memory now I can’t recall || MCU || 102,600 words || Complete  While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.

Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.

** GOOD SHIT, my dudes. I’ve lose count of how many times I’ve read this once. Definitely more than four times. 

The Twice-Told Tale || MCU || 15,789 words || Complete For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.

** SUCH an entertaining read. I’ve read this one definitely more than 5+ times. 

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation || MCU || 84,678 words || Complete When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

** This fic will ruin you in the best ways. Worth many, many, many rereads. 

The Third Option || MCU || 220,962 words || Complete Homecoming A/U.

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves.

Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.

And that’s when things get complicated.

** If you love angst, this is the one for you. Also worth many rereads. 

Anew. || MCU || 130,298 words || Complete In death, there was no glory, no redemption, no salvation.

Only darkness and ice—or that was what Tony thought. He closed his eyes in a Siberian bunker and opened them again on his 41st birthday, with War Machine flying into the distance.

a study in scarlette || Case Closed || 214,688 words || Complete There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

** One of like, my top 10 fics of all time across any fandom. 

When Pandora’s Box Is Opened || Case Closed || 299,231 words || Complete After two long years as Conan, the time has finally come for the ancient battle to come to an end, and fate will determine whether the Silver Bullet will survive the shot, unless Shinichi can put his faith in the enemy that was destined to be his ally...

... Yeah I did this because I was bored oops

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 11: When The Morning Comes

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry has a special surprise for his girl.

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Chapter 10: Only Us - Harry’s in Paris but his heart’s in Holmes Chapel.

Wattpad link

[ANNOUNCEMENT]: I have an exam on Friday, September 13 so I won’t be able to update next week (Saturday, September 14). The next chapter will be posted on Saturday, September 21. 

(I also created a Spotify playlist for this trilogy! Check it out!)

- Love, Allie.

.

.

.

⌲ Facetime?

⌲ Bambi: Wait, I thought you were going out?

⌲ Nah. Plans canceled.

⌲ Bambi: Oh no :(

⌲ Are you still with the girls?

⌲ Want to see you.

⌲ Bambi: Nope, I got home an hour ago. Wait a sec.

Harry lied back on his bed, peering at the bright screen in the darkness while his heart was pounding like a drum. What should he say to her? How should he begin? He had mentally prepared a script on the ride back to the hotel, but now he'd forgotten every single word as all these negative thoughts were eating away at him.

He couldn't forgive Ruby for the fucked up thing that she'd done. But what about himself? Could he forgive himself? Y/N might have kept a secret from him, but he was the one that owed her an apology. It was sad to think about all the smiles she'd had to fake to convince him that everything was fine. The worst part was, he'd believed them all.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as FaceTime rang and he accepted the call, only to be greeted by a black screen.

"Turn on your camera, Bambi," he said, frowning.

"Shhh, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Harry was even more confused when he heard rustles in the background. "What are you up to, kid?"

Y/N finally removed her hands and stepped away from her laptop, giving Harry the full view of the dusty blue dress she was wearing.

"This is my bridesmaid dress. I want you to be the first one to see it on me."

"Jesus Christ..." Harry muttered, smiling so big that his cheeks hurt.

Words couldn't describe how gorgeous his girlfriend looked right now. The fancy floor-length dress should've contrasted her bare face and messy hair, but on the contrary, it intensified her beauty. He wished she could for once see herself through his eyes, maybe then she would love herself as much as he loved her.

Y/N looked straight into the webcam as she adjusted the spaghetti straps and stepped closer to show him the gorgeous lace details on the bodice.

"You're perfect," he sounded almost breathless. "Gosh, you're perfect."

His reaction got her blushing but she couldn't stop grinning now.

"Do I look like a princess?" she asked and gave him another twirl with both arms rounded above her head like a ballerina. Now as an adult, she was still obsessed with tulle dresses, and Harry thought it was absolutely endearing.

"You do, baby, you do. You're my little princess."

"My prince." She bobbed a curtsy to him like the exuberant little girl he'd grown up with. And he would kill to see her like this every day, for the rest of his life.

"You shouldn't be allowed to be at the wedding, you're gonna steal all the attention away from the brides."

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky remark and plumped herself into the spinning chair. The Ruby problem still hadn't slipped his mind, and he was still mad as hell, but this certainly wasn't the right time to talk about it. She was excited, and he didn't have the heart to take that away from her.

He beamed, showing his teeth. "Maybe I'll show up as a surprise guest and steal all the attention from you."

Y/N only snorted as she assumed he was kidding. For someone who owned a private jet and big houses in so many cities in the world, Harry wasn't as free as people might think. He had to be on set almost every day for the rest of his stay in Paris, so if he wanted to attend the wedding, he would have to duplicate himself.

But a wise man once said, 'there's no problem, only solutions.' This time, Harry might have found the perfect solution.

The next morning, as he got on set, everyone wondered if something had happened to him the night before. He was talking to everyone and cracking jokes, and Evangeline, the director, told him, "keep up with that attitude and today might be your lucky day."

He hoped she was right, but so far, his day had been pretty mediocre. Sure he'd had a few happy and memorable moments during scenes and in between. But overall, mediocre. It was the thoughts about what he would do after finishing work that kept him motivated.

Acting with Ruby might be the only challenge of today. It wouldn't have been so hard if earlier that morning she hadn't had flowers sent to his trailer with a note saying she was sorry. How could she simplify what had happened with a single bouquet? Their issues were way bigger than that and too much for him to handle, so just like those flowers from her, he tossed them in the bin. Out of sight, out of mind.

At around 5 PM, Harry left the film set. Instead of going back to his hotel, he asked the driver to take him to the airport where his private jet was waiting to take him back to London. By the time he got back to Holmes Chapel after a four-hour drive, it would've been almost midnight.

As his car moved over the country road, lights on full beam, he finally understood why Y/N enjoyed long night drives so much. This was his time to let his brain roam free. He felt like the only person in this world as cars drove past him without knowing who he was. The idea of being a nobody excited him. When the morning came, he would return to London and fly back to Paris, pretending that tonight had never happened. Because tonight, he wasn't Harry Styles the movie star, he was just a nobody from Cheshire going home to visit his girl.

Meanwhile, Y/N was home and wide awake. During her first two years of college, she had spent almost every night at a different party or a club, just trying to find meanings for her life by doing crazy meaningless things. But her mindset had changed after a year without him, and now she preferred spending time alone, and of course, with him.

It was nearly half-past eleven. she was sitting on the bed, with her laptop on her lap and Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac blasting through the Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand. She couldn't call Harry for he'd told her he would be out with his team, so she decided to reread his notes and maybe write something. She had expected it to be hard to be inspired after having taken such a long break from writing, but then she ended up sitting for hours in front of her laptop, typing away effortlessly.

When the first few pebbles hit her window, she was too caught up in her own fictional world to hear it. But that was only until the biggest one nearly broke through the glass and caught her attention. She bounced off the bed and dashed to the window to see what was happening.

"Harry?!" Her eyes were wide with shock. She had to lean outside a bit further to make sure the streetlight wasn't playing tricks on her vision. But then he called, "Bambi!" And she knew she wasn't insane. He was.

"What the hell?!"

"Juliet would never use that kind of language!" He chuckled.

"And you're not Romeo," she rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Oh, wait, you know what? From this angle, you do look like young Leo in 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"Told ya!"

"Or maybe it's just the bad lighting."

Harry held up his middle finger as she tossed her head back and laughed.

"Just get down here before your dad wakes up and kills me!"

"Shit, you're right. One minute!" Giggling, she threw on a jacket over her PJ and snuck out of the house. The moment she burst through her front door, she leaped fast down the steps and straight into his strong arms.

There was the kind of hug that was brief and gentle; then there was the kind of hug that was suffocatingly affectionate, like this one, her favorite. She stood on her toes, arms draped around his neck as she inhaled the familiar scent from his shirt to make up for the last few days she hadn't got to feel him. As he leaned down, she stretched her neck for an open-mouthed kiss, clumsy yet impassioned. He nearly lifted her off the ground completely and squeezed the air out of her, but she didn't complain. She could stay like this, right here with him, until sunrise.

By midnight the darkness was almost absolute. The moon had shrunk to almost nothing and the tiny little stars scattering across the sky looked little specks of dust on a black velvet blanket. With the flashlight on their phones guiding the way, she snuck him into her backyard, and they climbed over the new fence to get into his yard. He went first and then held onto her hips to get her down.

"Have you done this before?" she asked when he turned on the outdoor lights on his back porch.

"Done what?" He arched an eyebrow in amusement.

"Sneak into someone's backyard."

"This is my backyard though."

"You don't live here anymore. It doesn't count."

"Okay, then no. Have you?" Harry wetted his lips, hands on her hips as he backed her up against one of the square columns supporting the porch. She stood with her hands behind her back and her back against the wood, her face lifted as she stared into his dark green eyes.

"Nope." She shook her head, letting him lean heavily against her and bury his face into her neck.

"Another first for us," he mumbled.

She sighed and pushed him away by his shoulders, their eyes meeting again. Her eyebrows furrowed as she told him, "you're crazy."

"Yeah," he said happily. "I’m crazy for you."

Y/N didn't say anything else. She didn't ask him why or how or when or what or any other questions relating to him showing up here. She knew he couldn't stay for long, so they shouldn't waste their time together on excessive inquiries.

"Come." He stepped back and grabbed her hand. "Wanna show you something."

Bemused, she followed him toward the fence separating their two houses. The porch lights illuminated almost two-thirds of his garden, giving them a good view of the whole lawn. Right exactly where their treehouse used to stand, was now a sapling planted in a patch of soil.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed and squatted down on the grass to observe the tiny tree as he did the same, and then she looked up, blinking her inquisitive dark eyes.

"How long has it been here?"

"Last night." He crossed both arms on top of his knees. "You said no expensive gifts, so...I bought you a tree."

"From Paris?!"

The way she screwed up her face had him chortle. "No, silly, from the shop near our school. Mum helped me plant it."

"It's so cute, baby!" She clutched her heart. "I love it so much!"

"Yeah? We can build a new treehouse on it once it's fully grown."

"But we will have been sooooo old by then."

"Then we'll build it for our children."

Harry was completely unaware of what he'd blurted out until he saw the look on her face. Her forehead creased as her lashes fluttered. Oh shit, what had he done? Why would he say that?! He had literally flown across the ocean and driven four hours back here to scare off his girlfriend with his spontaneous one-sided future plan for them. What if this freaked her out? What if she hated him? What if—

"Was that a proposal?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just indirectly propose?" she softly rephrased the question, smirking as a blush crept up his face. "I think our children will love it."

"Did you just indirectly said yes?" He released a throaty laugh.

"Maybe," she said at last, her cheekbones lifted high.

That one-word answer filled him with elation as he started grinning like a Cheshire Cat and plopped down on the grass, crossing his legs. Y/N subconsciously mirrored his posture.

"I used to dream of marrying you under that tree, right here in your backyard," she admitted, even in this light, he could still see her cheeks turning pink. Maybe that was why she couldn't look him in the eye as she spoke and had to distract herself by fidgeting with a wild flower. She went on, "I remember having this long discussion with Celine about our dream weddings during one of our sleepovers in fifth grade. We both agreed to marry the love of our lives right where we first met them, and now, ten years later, her dream is finally coming true."

"What about you?" His tone was low and cautious as he hesitated, "do you...do you still want a wedding in my backyard?" It was just him indirectly asking her if she considered him as the love of her life.

"I indirectly said yes, didn't I?"

Harry's heart leaped with joy when he heard the answer. He got up on his knees, pinned her down on the grass, and kissed her mouth desirously. They didn't mind getting their clothes dirty as they were sprawling across his yard, kissing and caressing one another. The night was young and so were they. Right now it was just them and the infinite sky above. They felt so small, but at the same time, like they could conquer the world. Was this the kind of love people would write songs and books about? The kind of love that made you feel powerful and capable of anything? Harry hoped she felt the same way because now there was fire was burning underneath his skin, but it was the type of burn that left him yearning for more. He didn't want to say goodbye, even just for another week. Could he just wrap her up in a blanket and take her with him wherever he went? He couldn't prevent that selfish thought, but he kept it to himself. She would yell at him if he suggested that she let him fly her to Paris, since she didn't even let him spoil her with expensive souvenirs.

"Do you like the gift?" he asked, and she brightened.

"I love it as much as I love you."

"Wow, that's a lot."

As he pretended to be shocked, she giggled and said, "I know."

He placed a few more pecks down her neck before rolling onto his back, holding her hand. Both turned to look at each other at the same time and dissolved into laughter at the cute little coincidence.

The next question slipped out of his mouth before he could reconsider asking. "If you're unhappy, you'll tell me, right?"

"Why would I be unhappy?" She pondered and turned to the side as he did the same, facing her.

"I don't mean right now. Everyone has those days, especially you," he said and booped her nose. "But you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

He sighed in relief when she hooked her pinky to his.

Anyone would've called him mad for putting his faith in a pinky promise, but in their world, a promise, big or small, should always remain unbreakable. So he trusted his Bambi to keep her word.

"We need to get used to each other's absence," she changed the subject after a moment, glowering at him. "It's easy to travel back and forth between Paris and London, but what will happen when you go on press tours?"

"We'll figure out a way. Don't you worry."

"I don't want to trouble you."

"You could never trouble me, kid. I don't mind traveling halfway across the world to see your face."

He ran his thumb across her pouty lip, wanting to ask her what was wrong, but she went first, "are you scared of it?"

"Of what?"

"Absence."

"Well, yeah, I am," he exhaled. "All the time." It was hard to admit it, but it did feel much better to get it off his chest.

"You know," she trailed off and bit her lip as her face relaxed. "There's a saying that 'absence is to love as wind is to fire: it extinguishes the little flame, it fans the big.'"

"Are we the big flame or the little flame?"

"We could burn this whole town down," she said, her big round eyes twinkled like stars.

Harry spread his arms and Y/N automatically shifted in to rest her head on his chest. The night air cooled their skin as soft breezes blew through their hair and clothes. His limbs gradually went numb and he was almost paralyzed from his neck down, but in a good and soothing way. He felt like he was floating and only felt like this when he was home.

"What did you get me the other day?" Her voice was clear and soft.

He looked down, beaming at her face. "Why don't you guess?"

"Shoes?"

"Christian Louboutin."

"Cheeky bastard," she snorted. "Have you returned them?"

"No, I keep them in case you change your mind. They're in my car actually."

When she narrowed her eyes, he expected a grumble, but then she gave him a shrug and said, "fine, I'll wear them to the wedding."

"That's my girl!" He pulled her right in by the arm and showered her face with kisses until she pushed him away, breathless from laughing so much. Y/N flipped onto her stomach, resting her cheek on her knuckles as she smiled down at him and he stroked her face tenderly.

"Don't forget to tell the wedding guests your rich boyfriend got you those shoes," he said.

"Oh, you mean my sugar daddy?" The corner of her eyes crinkled. "How about I tell them I met this eighty-year-old man and became his sex slave so he could pay my rent?"

"Sounds like a cool guy. What's his name?"

"Howard Stein."

"Oh God." He tossed his head back and cackled. "Imagine saying that name during sex."

"Oh, fuck me harder, Howard!" she moaned loudly, and they dissolved into laughter.

Only an hour ago it was pitch dark, but now the mist was visible, luminous. Harry knew it was time for him to go. They climbed over the fence and headed back to his car parked on her driveway. They kissed goodbye and held each other for a bit longer to make up for the lost time. He didn't forget to give her the nude Christian Louboutin pumps he'd bought in Paris. She could say she hated them but the glow in her eyes gave herself away. He was more than satisfied with that reaction.

With one last goodbye and a kiss on the cheek, he got in his car and drove away. As exciting as the journey last night had been, the one from his hometown back to London was almost depressing. The sky was cloudy and grey, probably sympathizing with what he was feeling right now. Tall buildings emerged from the mist as the city became closer. It didn't take too long for him to arrive at the airport.

Paris welcomed him back with sunlight and a clear sky, but also a crowd of fans and paparazzi waiting outside his hotel. He stopped to give a few photographs and took some photos with fans, trying his best to ignore rude questions shouted at him, such as "where did you spend the night?" and "were you with your new girlfriend?" and even worse, "did you stay with Ruby last night?"

He turned a deaf ear to them all and said goodbye to the ones who actually loved him. It was almost noon when he got to his room and shrugged off his jacket. He collapsed on the bed, arms and legs spread, thoroughly whacked out, but he couldn't fall asleep without texting Bambi.

⌲ Just got back to the hotel.

⌲ Bambi: Get some rest. You have to be on set in the afternoon, right?

⌲ Right. Fuck me.

⌲ Bambi: Later.

⌲ Gosh, you're dirty.

⌲ That's my girl.

Harry's smile slipped when an Instagram notification popped up on the top of his screen. He quickly tapped on it to open Isaac's latest post, which was a beautiful photo of the silvery skyline at dawn, probably taken that same morning. The caption said "Holmes Chapel", and both Y/N and Celine had liked the photo.

[zestycompress]

Ultimate Duo! CH. 2

Forgot to post it here.. oops

anyway chapter three is gonna come out.. probably today or tomorrow. i’m on a roadtrip with my family so i probably have more time to write now

AO3 Link

The car malfunctioned, giving the Japanese tourist some time to catch up with Giorno. Coincidence? Probably. Looks like he needs to get a new car. At least he was able to use Gold Experience and turn his luggage into a frog, he didn’t want to leave empty-handed. Too bad he lost money to the security by paying them to keep quiet. Of course, he could always get it back by pickpocketing some unlucky people.

The blond teen turned around to see a man dragging a shovel. One of his eyes was watery, and at that moment, he knew who that was.

“You’re Giorno Giovanna, right?”

So he knows his name.

Giorno nodded. The man turned around, gesturing to a bench with his head and walked towards it. “We haven’t met before, have we? Giorno, you have any clue who I am?”

“Leaky-Eye Luca. You were in a dispute a while back and when it turned ugly, you took a knife to the face but kept fighting and swinging despite your wound,” He replied. “The complications from that little scrap left you with a perpetually leaking eye, hence your moniker.”

Luca sat down while Giorno stood in front of him. “Here, take a load off and make yourself comfortable.”

The half-Japanese teen stared in silence.

“What’s the holdup? Pop a squat. Looking up at you is hurting my eyes.” He said, Giorno moved over and sat next to him.

“So, how old are you?”

“Fifteen and change.”

“What, really?! Haha! You’re a baby,” Luca grinned and laughed, but his face quickly changed. “Here’s the thing, Giorno, any true friendship has to be built on the firm foundation of the three T’s. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?” He wiped his eye as he spoke while Giorno stared ahead. “In case you’re drawing a blank, the first one is truth, the second one is tolerance, last but not least you have the third T, tribute, and voila the three T’s of true friendship.”

Giorno turned his head to the older man and asked, “Was there something you needed?”

Luca quickly grabbed his shovel and pushed it right against the teenager’s cheek. “I wasn’t finished showing you the ropes so shut your face hole! Nobody said you could ask questions, as for what I needed, I hear you started a hustle at the airport, huh? Surely you can see how this would be confusing, after all, I don’t remember receiving any tribute from you-” Giorno could really use a distraction right about now. “-and without tribute, how could we remain true friends? Now hand over your wallet.”

“Signore, you’ve got it wrong. I’ve already paid your tribute. I don’t have any money,” Giorno said, only making Luca angrier.

“You talking about that guard?! You have to be a special kind of stupid to think I’m working with that old- huh?” He stared at the bizarre image in Giorno’s wallet of the one and only Dio Brando, but he didn’t know that.. “What the hell is this, a family photo?” He brushed it off and continued to shout. “I know you’re holding out on me, so fork over the cash right now blondie!”

“Signore Luca, I really hate having to repeat myself and as I’ve already said, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Huh?”

“Now please don’t make me say it a third time-”

Luca swung his shovel at Giorno, almost hitting him. A frog - the one that used to be that certain Japanese tourist’s luggage - appeared and was next to his foot. It then hopped onto his leg.

“Time out, kid. What the hell is that?” It’s… a frog… isn’t it obvious?

It continued to hop upwards on Giorno. “So he came back…”

“Flick it off!” The man shouted.

“No, the frog has nothing to do with this. Please don’t ask me to do that.” He responded.

Luca raised his shovel and pointed at the innocent creature. “That wasn’t a freakin’ suggestion, amico, and you still haven’t paid the taxes you owe! Are you seriously going to refuse both of my orders?! You’ve got some brass balls, kid! (more like steel balls haha am i right sbr fans) No one says no to Leaky-Eye Luca twice!”

“This frog is a living creature with the will of his own,” Uh, yeah, we know that. “He thinks and acts for himself. Let’s go our separate ways.” Giorno really wanted to go back to his place, even if that meant sitting in awkward silence with Kars. This guy was holding him up.

Luca swung his shovel at the frog despite Giorno’s warnings. The small green creature slipped out from underneath the tool. Unfortunately for Leaky-Eye Luca, he was dead, all because he tried hitting a frog. Should’ve listened, now the back of his head was caved in. The frog transformed back into luggage and Giorno walked away.

~~~

Kars tried on the clothes Giorno bought for them. To be honest, they weren’t that bad. Obviously, they could be better, the white collared shirt was too plain for Kars. He pulled out some other clothes that could be fitting. He examined a thin turtleneck sweater which was a wine purple color, similar to his hair color.

Good enough.

He already completed reading every book Giorno owned and he wasn’t planning on rereading them. Kars practically memorized every word written on the pages. Staying inside Giorno’s room isn’t something he’s going to do. If the blond teen returns before he does, he better be prepared for waking up in the middle of the night to see Kars entering his room by compressing his body to go underneath the door.

Obviously, it’s not going to be a pleasant sight, especially when you’re only half-awake.

As he walked through the streets of Italy, he received many stares from random humans. Kars either saw admiration or envy in their eyes and sometimes fear, he couldn’t blame them. After all, he was the perfect being. And he was pretty tall too, he towered over everyone else. Not only that, but the Pillar Man was also pretty intimidating, not that much of a surprise.

People scurried out of his way with their head down to avoid eye contact with Kars. If they looked up at him, he would send a cold glare and force them to quickly turn away. But not everybody was scared off. A few people politely waved and smiled, maybe even wink at Kars. Some humans were bold enough to ask him to dinner. Of course, he harshly declined their offer. It wasn’t the first time a human requested to have a meal with him. Kars is fully aware of how attractive he is compared to others.

Soon, the Pillar Man found himself near a beach, it was mostly empty. There was just one single person standing on the dock holding a fishing rod. Kars would’ve ignored them and continued walking, but a part of him wanted to go towards the person. He tried convincing himself that he only wanted to go near them because of their bizarre lime-green hair. Honestly, he wasn’t a big fan of it.

When Kars got closer, he felt the same kind of energy as Giorno’s Stand, Gold Experience. It caught him a bit off guard. This person had their Stand out… while they were fishing? Now he was confused, why would he need a Stand to fish? Did it help? Kars needed answers.

“You.”

The person shrieked loudly, dropping their fishing rod, turning around with a fearful expression and wide eyes.

“You’re a coward, aren’t you?” Kars sighed. “I can tell just by looking at you. Now, tell me your name.”

The person stumbled over their words a few times before blurting out “Pesci!”

By their appearance and the sound of their voice, Kars concluded that this human was indeed male. He stared at him for a while before asking another question. “Where’s your Stand?”

Pesci panicked, looking around to see if Prosciutto was nearby. He just left to go smoke, knowing full well that Pesci hates the smell. He probably needed to go buy more cigarettes and was now coming back.

...The blond man was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Answer me!”

“I-I, um, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The only option he had was to play dumb. It wasn’t working.

“What kind of fool do you take me for? I can feel its energy, tell me, what are you using your Stand for?”

Pesci couldn’t take it, the man was just too intimidating! Hopefully, he’s not from another gang, a rival one to be exact, the whole team would get angry at him for revealing information. Even if it was about his Stand, weaknesses would be exposed and he would get taken out.

“My Stand is Beach Boy, it's the fishing rod! I’m only using it to fish, don’t hurt me!” He shut his eyes and tensed up, unable to bear staring into the tall man’s eyes.

Kars blinked. The damn fishing rod was a Stand? Did Giorno seriously lie about how only Stand users could see Stands? He picked up the dark blue fishing rod and examined it. It certainly was pretty odd.

“I thought only Stand users could see Stands, was I wrong?” He hummed, poking the skull on Beach Boy.

“...Well, that is true but… only for most Stands… there are some exceptions I guess…” Pesci replied, wincing when Kars turned his head to him.

“Is that so?” A smirk appeared on his face. Looks like he learned something new.

Before Kars could ask any more questions, the sound of footsteps alerted him. A blond man with a dark-colored suit stood there, frowning. The Pillar Man returned the same look. Pesci felt relieved that Prosciutto finally came back, he was probably going to get scolded and punished but that’s better than answering any more questions about his Stand.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Prosciutto stepped closer, glaring into Kars’s eyes without a hint of fear. Despite the man being a foot taller than him, he wasn’t intimidated, or at least he didn’t appear to be. That’s something Pesci admired him for. The intense staring continued and Pesci started to get uncomfortable.

“Leave,” Prosciutto commanded. “Now.”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” He laughed. “You’re just a pitiful human. There’s nothing you could do that can hurt me.”

“Is that what you think?” The blond man hissed. “Fine, I’m sure The Grateful Dead will change your mind!”

Kars felt something grabbing onto his legs but didn’t look. He knew it was just his Stand, so why panic? He found amusement in Prosciutto’s bewildered expression. The Grateful Dead wasn’t working. Even though the Stand’s making contact with Kars, he isn’t aging. Was there some kind of Stand ability that canceled the effect? Prosciutto glared at his Stand as if doing that would start the aging process. Nothing happened.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Kars hummed, his smug grin grew wider which made the Italian man more frustrated.

“Impossible! You should be getting older, more weaker!” He growled, his Stand’s grip became tighter. “Pesci, do something!”

“O-Oh! Right!” He was about to summon his Stand before he foolishly realized that Kars already had it in his hand. What was he supposed to do, reach out and grab the damn thing?! The Pillar Man looked down at him, sending shivers down the young man’s spine.

...Surprisingly, he returned Beach Boy. Prosciutto eyed him suspiciously. Pesci hesitated, then quickly snatched his Stand back. He stared at Kars, trying to figure out if there was a hidden motive, but he wasn’t sure.

“Demonstrate your Stand’s abilities, I’d like to see how it works. Don’t keep me waiting, I can wait all day but I’d prefer not to.” He said.

The hook and fishing line was now inside Kars, he can feel it traveling up his arm. It was a strange sensation. However, he couldn’t see it moving. There was no outline of the hook and line in his skin. The hook found its way to Kars’s heart, but Pesci became hesitant. Was this all a trap? He glanced at Prosciutto, the man was silently encouraging him to use Beach Boy. Something was off about Kars. Instead of finishing off the two Stand users, he instead waited for their Stands to do something. Waiting for your foe to display their abilities can help with figuring out their weakness, but it can also put yourself in danger. Kars did not seem to care about that, he just seemed curious about their Stands. Prosciutto kept his guard up, you can never be too careful.

Pesci used Beach Boy’s hook to tear apart the beating heart, but again, Kars seemed to be unaffected.

...Or perhaps it just didn’t work.

There was simply no way to kill Kars. The sun was no longer his enemy, Stands were useless, even lava couldn’t do it. He was the perfect, undefeatable being.

Kars felt the hook desperately tugging on his heart as Pesci became more visibly anxious. Prosciutto was also getting quite upset. The Pillar Man has never been so entertained before. Chuckling, he walked away from the duo.

“That’s enough, I supposed. Pesci, your Stand has potential, you know that, right? However,” He glanced at Prosciutto with a bit of a frown. “What’s the point of yours? It doesn’t seem like it can do anything interesting.”

As he left, Prosciutto muttered curses and insults, not knowing that Kars could hear what he said. Pesci thought the compliment was rather nice, even though the man was strange.

If only he knew his name.

~~~

He ran into that Japanese tourist again, this time he found out he was no ordinary being. And he didn’t have to get a new car after all! Well, maybe someone took it after he ran away. But that didn’t matter, the tourist was a Stand user. He was the reason his car came to a stop. Luckily, Giorno got away again. The stranger didn’t seem so bad though. He had a good soul and Giorno felt a bit of pity for robbing him.

He opened up the window in the funicular and stared at the passing buildings. Before he could think about what he’ll do next, he heard a coin drop. A man wearing a white suit with oddly shaped black dots appeared and picked it up.

“This yours?” He asked Giorno.

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 02 - Ancient

Victor and Clara stood at the mouth of the huge cave. Above were the claw scratches of a young dragon, kept fresh over the centuries - nay, millenia - by careful, loyal kobolds. It displayed the name of the master of the cave in a script forgotten even by Time himself. Above it, in similar fashion, but with the deeper cuts started by the claws of a far older dragon, was the name "Gehrakt" carved out in an old, primitive form of Draconic writing. However, the two humans focused their attention on a metal sign, on which was carefully carved in several modern languages: Gehrakt's Cave Those who seek power, begone. Those who want riches, flee. Those who require knowledge... Enter, and prove your mettle.

Victor stared at the sign, then looked to his friend. "Well, that's us, then," he remarked, lighting his lantern before the dark, deep tunnel ahead. "We really can't afford to burn time now." Clara nodded as she did one last gear check before picking up her hiking staff, and together, they ventured inside. They walked in silence for a minute, following a simple tunnel around gentle curves until the entrance vanished from sight. Though they passed a few discarded, rusting swords and flails, and a number of snapped wands and bows, they pressed onwards; if their equipment was not enough for them, the legacies of failed conquerers would be of no aid. From time to time, Vincent thought he saw something scurry in the darkness, but there was nothing when he swung the light around, and he could hear nothing but his and Clara's footsteps. "Do you think it was a bluff? Assuming nobody would try to fight or steal from a dragon who'd lived so long?" Victor asked as they rounded another bend. Clara shook her head, her eyes glued to the walls of the cavern. Nothing more than some kobold-sized claw scratches and some paintings, presumably also by kobolds, so far. "I don't think so. Bluffs only work if your opponent doesn't call them. And while nobody in their right mind would try, he still has to contend with those out of their mind." "True. Oh, look ahead!" He held the lantern aloft, where, rather than a single tunnel, the path split off into two, separated by a thick wall. "Tisk, tisk, Clara," he joked with a grin, "this never would've happened if we'd just kept assuming there was nothing." His companion snrked and playfully pushed him. "Alright, wiseass, but I reckon that assumption would lead us down a random path, and I like having better than fifty-fifty odds on my life." They looked closer, careful not to step into either tunnel yet. Down one lay scattered weapons and armor, much like they'd passed already, but in good condition. Arranged rather than tossed aside, arrows bundled next to a bow gleaming with magic. In the other, a few silver coins from ages long, long ago were scattered near the entrance; they turned to gold a number of feet beyond, and from there, the wealth started piling up. Diamonds, rubies, golden statues, and more poked out of mounds of gold currency and bricks. Both humans felt the desire to step in, and take just one, so even if the dragon wasn't helpful, their visit would not be a total waste. And yet... "Okay, so they both scream 'trap,'" Victor remarked, "one for power and one for wealth. But there's not third option, barring tunneling, and we don't have the tools for that." "Could be the middle? It's wide enough for a person, and those parables often come from SOMEwhere," Clara reasoned, then tapped her walking staff against the wall by her feet. Solid as, well, rock. "Darn." "To be honest, I'm relieved. Can you imagine if all the dragon older than the ancestors of our ancestors had keeping people out was a trick wizards learn to hide contraband from their parents and siblings? Still, where does that leave us?" "Backwards? Maybe the cave changed after we passed, or there's an illusion that hides a passage from one direction." Victor shook his head. "Nah, then this would reward people for giving up on it. The sign didn't say 'prowess' or 'sense,' it said 'mettle.' I think it intends on people to push forward and find the solution." "Well, if back's not the answer, the walls are solid, and forward's trapped, what's left?" As she said it, they both looked at each other, and slowly drew their gaze upward. Hanging next to a stalactite, a coiled up rope ladder was visible amidst the shadows. "I got it," Clara said, and reached up with her staff to smack the ladder. It came tumbling down, the lowest rung hanging a foot over the ground. "Right, then, up I go," Victor said, and began his ascent. His friend, meanwhile, swiftly unscrewed her staff into several shorter pieces to stow away before she followed him up. "Short, hard to reach, hidden... this feels like a kobold maintenance tunnel," he grumbled. They soon found a ladder down, and Victor descended. Clara called after him, "maybe it is! Makes the test all the more fitting, if we turned out to have beaten not just the puzzle, but the system it's framed in, no?" "Eh, it's also a simple enough answer that it's probably the intended solu-" he cut himself off as he looked around and sighed. "Man, beating the system doesn't feel as good when the system is THIS." Clara stepped down the ladder. "Why, what is it- oh." A two-foot wall obstructed the entrance to the narrow tunnel they had climbed into, revealing that it was, in fact, the middle path, hidden by a rocky illusion. "Okay, I agree with you. That's a disappointing puzzle." She reached her hand out to pass through the fake barrier, but was stopped by something solid in mid-air. An actual illusion. "You know, if it didn't just happen to me, I bet I'd find this pretty funny," Victor quipped, "now let's keep going, if anyone's got that cure, it's Gehrakt the Eldest." And the two of them set down the tunnel. They passed several sets of significant-looking scratch marks, but from what they could tell, it was all code, or at least unknown abbreviations and slang by the dragon's kobolds. Eventually, they came upon another metal sign in several languages. Upon this one was written, simply: Stand on the X to meet Gehrakt The humans looked down at the floor. There was a large circle painted on the smooth, rock ground. They looked around, but all of note on the walls or ceiling were some claw scratches in what were decidedly not X-like shapes. "So... do we stand on the circle instead?" Clara asked. Victor shook his head. "I don't think so. It's not an easy shape to mix up. Unless this is some illusion of an O on top of an actual X, which would be kinda unfair." Clara nodded. "And, like the going-backwards option before, it would allow in people who didn't understand the trick, too. Here, let me try something." Having reassembled her staff, she used it to scrape an X inside the circle, then placed a foot carefully on the new symbol. Nothing happened. The two of them read and reread the sign a few times, wondering if there was an error in translation that had been missed when putting it into their first language. To no avail, however; everything but the single, translation-unneeded X was as good as they knew it could be. Clara narrowed her eyes. With careful balance, aided by her walking staff, she placed her foot on the sign, right over the X. Almost immediately, a small section of the wall above the sign slid away, revealing a small, scaly head. The kobold yapped and wiggled an arm through the hole to point at the circle. "Stand on the circle?" got another yap. So the two humans stood on it, and in a flash of light, they were suddenly in front of Gehrakt. To say that Gehrakt was big was an understatement. Dragons do not stop growing if they are not killed, and Gehrakt was the oldest dragon by a long shot. He bore an old scar, now the size of three men end-to-end, across his eye. Victor and Clara had seen dragons the size of horses. They had heard stories of dragons the size of a house. There were myths and legends of dragons big enough to stand over houses and barely scrape their belly-scales. But Gehrakt? His scales were visibly tougher than just about anything. With a wayward bite, he could devour entire trees and barely notice. The two of them looked at him, and were given the distinct, unsettling impression that to walk from the tip of his snout to the end of his tail would take hours upon hours, if not entire days. HELLO, HUMANS. WHAT DO YOU SEEK? The voice was loud, impossible to ignore, and was not spoken, but rather appeared in their heads. Clara was glad she had her walking staff to lean on, and Victor rather wished he had one as well. It took them a couple of seconds to recover, before Victor could respond. "We... our town is afflicted by an illness turning victims to stone. We have no books on it, and seek knowledge on its cure, and on its prevention." AND NOT ON HOW TO RECREATE OR HEIGHTEN IT? "Uh... no? Look, one of our town's teachers is made of marble now, and when we left, my best friend had lost a foot to it. Subjecting anyone else to this is beyond our furthest thoughts." "Plus, if anyone actually wanted to weaponize petrification, there's always chucking a basilisk over the wall," Clara muttered, and was quickly shushed by Victor. THAT IS SUFFICIENT. KREER VITGEHRAKT WILL GUIDE YOU. IF IT IS WRITTEN, YOU WILL FIND IT ON THAT SHELF. The rapid sound of scaly feet pitter-pattered up behind them. The humans turned to see the kobold from earlier before them. Kreer yapped, and began to walk off. The pair followed it, and only once they brought themselves to look away from Gehrakt did they see his hoard of knowledge. Hundreds of spiraling, conical pillars jutted out of the ground, each one lined with bookshelves filled with countless books. As Victor stared at them, he spotted a number of moving shapes browsing the shelves, each one presumably having gone through a similar trial to meet him. He squinted, making out not only humans, elves, and kobolds, but also gnolls, some sort of slime, and a couple of harpies browsing the stacks. Clara hung back a couple steps. "Uh... Mister Gehrakt? May I ask a couple questions?" A bemused glint appeared in the eye of the dragon. YOU HAVE ASKED ONE ALREADY; WHAT IS THE SECOND? The human smiled at having seen the joke coming, then asked, "just before we got here, there was a sign saying to stand on the X, but it was an O that we stood on to get teleported here. Was tapping my foot against the X on the sign really the solution?" Gehrakt drew his massive head back, and for a moment, Clara was terrified that she had offended him. Instead, however, he turned to face Greer, who chirped out a few short phrases in Draconic. IT WAS NOT INTENDED TO BE SO. ONE OF MINE HAS MISLABELED THE TELEPORT GLYPH. IT WILL BE FIXED. THOUGH... THAT SOLUTION IS NOT A BAD IDEA. Clara let out a breath, then sped up a bit to catch up to her companion and the kobold. "So," she said quietly to Victor, "Kreer gave us the answer to that last test, because it wasn't supposed to be one. We overthought a mistake." They walked towards one of the nearer spires of literary knowledge, and as they climbed its slope, they passed by a gnome, a politely coiled lamia, and a small, yellow pegasus before the kobold yapped once more and pointed at a bookshelf, then stepped past them and made his way back down. The books were all medical texts on uncommon and rare communicable diseases. Between the two of them, Victor and Clara quickly found the information they needed. On a sheet of paper they had brought, they copied down facts about the strange disease and made multiple copies of the instructions for creating and applying the cure. Once done, they carefully walked back down the spire. The lack of handrail was much more apparent as they descended, but they eventually managed to get back to Gehrakt and the teleportation ring. HOLD, HUMANS. MY KNOWLEDGE COMES AT NO GREAT EXPENSE, BUT NEITHER IS IT FREE. They froze at the dragon's booming, telepathic voice. "What- what would you ask of us? We do not bring much gold," Clara said. I VALUE LITTLE OF PRETTY METALS. YOU WILL TRADE KNOWLEDGE FOR KNOWLEDGE. A new kobold skittered up to them, carrying a roll of parchment and a quill. It scratched a few words to test, then looked up at them. A COPY OF THE STORY OF YOUR JOURNEY. THAT IS THE PRICE OF THE CURE YOU SOUGHT. WORRY NOT, YOUR TOWN NEEDS YOUR TIME MORE THAN I, SO YOU MAY ABRIDGE YOUR TELLING. Vincent and Clara shared a glance, nodded, and began their tale...                

[o0o-chibaken-o0o]

Do you have any rec list with bonds, forced or not between drarry From soulmate bond to magical link, whatever really

OH BOY DO I. This is one of my favorite tropes, and this list (which I made on a whim upon seeing a facebook post about bonding) barely scratches the surface of all the amazing related fics! Enjoy

The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora (59K)- In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.HONESTLY just the memory of this fic is so happy and healing that I’m almost certainly going to reread it a third time within the next week there’s KNITTING!!! But also D/S dynamics and shop-owning and tons of wonderful amazingness

For The Greater Good by @jadepresley (62K)- When Harry and Draco discover they’ve been bonded to one another, neither one of them is prepared for the secrets they slowly begin to uncover. Together, they learn that they can’t escape their past, or the things that have been left hidden there, and that sometimes the only way to move forward is to look back.This fic has SO MANY GREAT THINGS! I started to type them all out but then realized y’all probably don’t want a ton of spoilers and the way the plot of this fic unfolds and everything comes together is just masterful and enthralling and full of surprises!

Lift Your Open Hand by @firethesound (18.5K)- With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.I love love love this fic! It’s got sort-of bumbling Auror partners!Drarry who get into trouble first thing and then COVER IT UP like a pair of adorable idiots and of course they’re like this will be FINE until it’s not fine and everybody’s in love and Nick Cage is there for some reason and the reader is grinning like a loon

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by @firethesound (18.5K)- Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy’s waging against detention. This isn’t the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it’s not boring.I read this so long ago it is DEFINITELY time for a re-read because all I remember is feeling a great sense of mischief and joy, and like that’s everything we all need in our lives right now. 

Unexpected Consequences by lauren3210 (39K)- Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn’t know why he expected anything different.This is one of the earliest drarry fics I read (possibly the first eighth year one?) and I have adored it ever sense! It has a wonderful premise, great exploration of issues of consent with a power imbalance, and all your standard amazing bonding tropes– especially roommates!! And Harry being Draco’s protector! OH AND it was written to go with “that picture” (you know the one) and so has an amazing dark mark removal scene that I’ll never forget!

In Evidence of Magical Theory by @bixgirl1​ (43.5K)- When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they’re forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible.In which Harry and Draco can’t fight, so they fall in love instead.OKAY I REMEMBER when I read this fic and was like WHO IS THIS RANDOM AMAZING WRITER??? because it was her first fic and now she’s one of the greats but damn this fic is still a testament to some of the things bix does best and is a must-read!!! Magical theory! Eighth year! Room sharing! BED SHARING! Her first drarry rimming scene!!! (Aww

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl (60.5K)- When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected. Like every single Saras_Girl fic ever, this fic is a true gem. It’s a relatively simple setting (seeing as they’re stuck in a house) but so realistic and subtle and evocative. The bonding in this fic is more physical than emotional, which is not only an interesting change of pace but also makes for many truly wonderful and embarrassing moments :D

The Comfort of Tea by Omi_Ohmy (20.5K)- A lawn mower, a pertly pink todger, endless cups of tea and a few sly grins. Oh yes, and Harry is cursed to temporarily bond to anyone he gets close to; for some reason that person ends up being Draco, more often than not…OKAY usually bonding fics are all angsty and pining-y, but this one is just fucking ADORABLE and fluffy and warm and cute and it will make you happy!!!!

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (104.5K)-  Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.This fic was like a revelation when I read it because it was so. damn. good!!! One of my favorite fics of all time and a VERY refreshing take on the veela!Draco trope. Draco is the most hilarious, snarky, relatable narrator and the story is full of pining and tons of entertaining incidents and it’s just a perfect (and long, bless us all!) fic!

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (173.5)- I started to write this before HBP came out, and crossed my fingers that HBP wouldn’t make it totally non-canon. No such luck, I’m afraid. This, therefore, is an AU story, where (SPOILER) still teaches (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t try to (SPOILER), (SPOILER) didn’t succeed in (SPOILER), (SPOILER) never dated (SPOILER), and most importantly, (MAJOR ENDING SPOILERS) never happened.This is like… the OG drarry bonding fic. An absolute classic, for very good reason! Warning for pressure to be intimate because of the bond.

Timeshare by @astolat (14K)- “It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, because he hadn’t just spent the last week contemplating just how much more horrible his summer holidays were about to be than they’d ever been before.My favorite part about this fic is the sweet sweet satisfaction of Draco meeting the Dursleys and being VERY Malfoy about it. But there are also a lot of touching moments of Harry and Draco figuring each other out and learning to respect each other as well.

Dear Uncle Plume by @eidheann (16.5K)- Life after war is nothing like Draco expected. He only hopes he’ll survive it. Especially when his friends are less than sympathetic.OKAY BUT AGONY AUNT DRACO. That’s literally all that needs to be said and if that isn’t enticing to you then who even are you. Also contains great Slytherin friendships, struggling Draco, and secret relationship -> mpreg -> bond -> angst drama

The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop (152.5K)- When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he …?This is a FABULOUS fic, completely hilarious and touching and full of all your favorite tropes, and SO LONG!!! Hours and hours of pure enjoyment :D

The Arrangement by create_serenity (Sivany) (16K)- The arrangement was very simple really, and very convenient. Draco just hadn’t expected it to result in this mess.So veela!Harry and veela!Draco have a deal in which they casually help each other out (with sex, in case that wasn’t obvious) while they search for their true mates, and OF COURSE you know what happens next and honestly what a brilliant idea

Before the World Was Made by daftfear (43K)- Draco has done everything in his power to leave the past behind him. He’s established himself a successful business and built a reputation around the quality of his work and the breadth of his knowledge. But when aurors show up at his shop one afternoon, seeking his expertise on a peculiar item of questionable origins, they completely overthrow the precarious balance in Draco’s life. Trust Potter to bring danger and destruction in his wake, along with a painful reminder of all the things Draco is trying to forget.WHAT BETTER to bond our two boys together than a cursed (wedding!!) ring, right?? Also I love any and all fics with antique shop owner!Draco, and lots of exploration of wizarding history and traditions, and this one does both things so well

Hungry by birdsofshore (24K)- The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.Another classing must-read bonding fic!!! This time featuring drarry as enemies with their arms literally stuck together in eighth year. AS GOOD AS IT COULD GET. One of my favorite enemies-to-lovers fics AND one of my favorite eighth year fics!

[multisfabulis]

The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned

Freed (Chapter 7/7)

Word Count: 8737

TW: Referenced child abuse

And with the release of this chapter lies the end of this story.

This took me almost a year and nine months to finish and it’s been a rollercoaster. Despite the mental and emotional highs and lows, I’m glad I committed myself to working on this until its completion and I can’t wait to work on the other projects I’ve got lined up!

As a final note, I apologize for the word vomit that is the architecture/interior design descriptions. It was in the middle of writing those that I realized this is a major weakness of mine because my mind cannot comprehend something of that scale. I also have no artistic sense at all so a lot of set drops are based off what I'm visualizing in my mind so there's bound to be many mistakes.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     The sound of rolling waves was like music to Ven’s ears. Water ebbed and flowed along the shore as she breathed in the salty air. She opened her eyes to see fluffy white clouds scattered across an endless sea of blue, both above and below. An early spring breeze blew through, ruffling her hair and clothes. She took a deep breath and, steadying herself, tentatively walked towards the ocean.

     It had been a little over a week since her and Ferreth’s return from Thal Esari. They left mere hours after Filaurel’s ruling, not wanting to spend more time than they already had by staying an extra day. She managed to finish reading Thessalia’s journal during the trip back and she had more questions than answers. The final entry was dated a day or so before her death and she still hadn’t made a decision on what to do with her. Rereading the last words she wrote felt weird, the image of her mother writing in her journal whilst not knowing it’d be the last imprint she’d leave in the world present in her mind. At least she knew that she’d never know what her fate would be if Thessalia survived and it may never be completely okay.

     She also learned of something that shocked her. Something she had honestly never thought of but made so much sense looking back on it. It wasn’t just because of her hatred for Vlixeoxs, her contempt for her ran deeper than that. She was meant to be a second chance but it was dashed the moment she saw what she was. She was still coming to grips with what that bombshell revealed and it scared her to know how cruel someone could be to a child.

     She shook her head to stop herself from going further. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about those dark thoughts. What she really needed to focus on was the limits in which her power could go. She never gave much thought as to what she could really do until she began wondering a few nights ago. Were the things she did just part of a dream or were they real? It was hard for her to believe she was that strong but she kept itching to try and do the marvels she had done in the dream. Today was the day she’d find out if there was more to her power she believed possible or not.

     She stopped walking when the water reached her ankles. She nervously swallowed as she let out a shaky breath. Looking behind her to see if anyone was watching, she closed her eyes and held out her hands.

     She thought of how her glaive looked, the weight and feel of it. How sharp its blade was, how tall it stood, she even remembered the tiny scratches on its hilt. She then willed her power to try and recreate her beloved weapon. She felt a weight in her hands almost immediately after she ordered it and opened her eyes. In her hands was a pitch black glaive made of darkness.

     Her eyes widened in amazement as she examined the glaive. It felt solid and was light as a feather, not like the one sitting at home. She ran her fingers along the edge of the blade, realizing just how sharp it was. It even had the ribbon she tied around the top end of the pole. This was a glaive, a weapon she made with her power, something she could do all along but never the courage to do it.

     She arced it up in the air, a fluid motion she hadn’t experienced before. Then she spun it above her head in one hand and passed it on to the other. She was beginning to really enjoy how smooth her regular moves flowed so effortlessly. There was just one more thing she needed to try out.

     Tossing it high up, she waited for the perfect moment to show itself. Once the blunt end of the pole faced her, she kicked it forward with all her might. It was sent flying several feet ahead and, right before it sank into the ocean, she attempted to summon it to her hand. It came back like a boomerang, the force and surprise at how easy it was causing her to stumble back a bit.

     She held the glaive up above her, looking at it in wonder. This was incredible to her, being able to create anything she set her mind to and with such ease! It may only be the first thing she planned on testing out but she was excited all the same. She dismissed the glaive and it dispersed into dark wisps from her hand.

     Now it was time for the second thing she remembered doing in the dream. She closed her eyes again and imagined a wall behind her. The wall had dozens of daggers, swords, and whatever else she could think of trained up at the sky. Once the image was etched in her mind, she raised her arms. Barely any sound was made as she finished summoning the wall and turned around to see it.

     Shock and awe filled her being as she marveled at her creation. The wall was tilted up towards the sky and it spanned the width of the beach. There were spikes protruding out of the surface, appearing about ready to fire. All she needed to do was lift a hand and wave it.

     So she did just that. She turned back around, raised a hand up, and pointed two fingers at the sky. Her mouth curled up into a playful smile as she eagerly braced herself for the magic that was about to happen. Like pulling the trigger of a crossbow, she shot a barrage of dark bladed weapons high into the sky. They flew ahead in an arc and landed in the ocean, dissolving into wisps once more.

     Adrenaline coursed through her body as she tried to keep herself calm. Her hands shook, butterflies fluttered around in her stomach, and her heart pounded against her chest. This may have been becoming too much for her but she wanted to keep going. How she wasn’t bouncing all over the place was anyone’s guess.

     Time for the third and final phase. The thing she never ever thought would be possible, even if she knew how the other two worked. This was something she’d been looking forward to the most and, if she could do it, it’d be a miracle. It didn’t take much for her to remember the image because how could she forget such a sight? A weight was placed on her back and she wanted to squeal in delight.

     She glanced over her shoulder. Two giant black wings were attached to the middle of her back, beads of darkness dripping off them onto the sand below. They weren’t feathered but they didn’t need to be to look beautiful. They were like a smooth onyx gem that shone a slight purple tinge when the light hit them right. She had only caught a glimpse of them in the moonlight from the dream so seeing them on a bright day like today made this moment all the more special.

     She took in a deep, shaky breath, excited for what was happening next. Her wings lifted themselves higher and higher before coming down with a tremendous whoosh. Sand blew away from her as she flew up in the air.

     She stopped just above where the trees’ canopy was. Her wings flapped behind her as she took in her surroundings. It was breathtaking to see the beach, the forest, the ocean, everything from a new perspective and she loved it. Now she could start to really have some fun with this newfound ability.

     She flew under the rocky cliff that overshadowed the beach, weaving through the crags rising up from the ocean below. Then she soared on up to the clouds, bobbing in and out of them and feeling the wind and dew on her face. She swooped down to the sea and glided above its surface, sticking her hand in to feel the cool water go through her fingers. This was everything she could’ve ever dreamed of and she could do this at any time she wanted.

     Then she had an idea. It was, admittedly, a very dumb and very risky idea because of how much danger she’d be putting herself in but the chance of it working was there. If it panned out, it’d be extraordinary.

     She drifted up several feet above the water. Anxiety began to grow in her stomach as she realized just how dangerous her idea was. She could very well drown if this went poorly, due to her inability to swim. It could be hours or even days before someone found her and it’d be too late at that point.

     No, she couldn’t think like that. This might work after all and she’ll have been worrying over nothing. She attempted to settle down her nerves before steeling herself for what was to come. Then, after relaxing her shoulders and steadying her breathing, she dove into the ocean.

     It was like being in the swamp again, except she could see this time. Light filtered in from above, giving the underwater a crystal blue hue. There were many different plants and coral and algae and they were all so vibrant and colorful. Schools of fish quickly swam away when she glanced at them. It was so pretty to look at but she needed to get back up to the surface.

     Her wings managed to stay with her after her dive and they were beating as hard as they could to help her. Her lungs began to burn from the lack of air as she tried to swim up, her arms and legs feeling like lead weighing her down. Fear started to set in, her heart about ready to stop at any moment. A burst of strength came to her once she got close to the surface and it gave her wings the power they needed to break through.

     She shot out of the water like an arrow, sailing up several feet. Water droplets clung to her wings, trailing down till they fell back into the ocean. She drew them in and quickly unfurled them, shaking the last few drops off them. The sun cast her shadow across the water and she couldn’t help liking what she saw. That was her, her and her power, and she didn’t feel ashamed.

     She flew back to shore, an exuberant smile on her face. Her idea worked, it wasn’t a failure. Heck, everything in her dream wasn’t a dream, it was all real. She had done those things and they were all her.

     All her life, she had been shamed for being a Vlixeox. Her eyes, her power, they were things that alerted others of her race. She could only do so much with her eyes but she could hide her power. She could pretend it didn’t exist, it wasn’t a part of her, until she got home, where she felt safe enough to let the mask fall. She hated having to hide it but she also hated having it.

     Every time she looked in a mirror, she was reminded of it. How she, a Vlixeox, was living among people who were normal, elves. The mirror reflected back everything she wasn’t. Even if they tolerated her existence, just seeing them go about their daily lives made her aware of how different, how other she was. It was a constant struggle to hide the parts that gave her true nature away and pretend to be like one of them and it almost killed her.

     It was only when she took a chance and helped Eric with her power back in Brinegarde she didn’t have to hide anymore. He accepted her as she was and treated her like she was his friend. Her once tiny world grew after meeting him, he brought her out of the darkness and into the light. It’s because of his kindness she found people that didn’t care about what she was and she was happy.

     Maybe it was because of her time here she felt comfortable knowing her power was a part of her. There was no need to conceal it anymore. She never allowed herself to have fun with it but today changed all that. It felt so nice and wondrous and…liberating to enjoy this and having this and being this. She didn’t know if she’d ever be completely okay with being a Vlixeox but she figured she was on the right track.

     Her wings faded away once she was safely back on land. She looked over at the forest beyond the docks and her smile dropped. There, just before the trees made way to the clearing, was Ferreth.

     A surprised scream escaped from her mouth and she jumped back, her butt landing on the wet sand. He started laughing as she drew her hood up to hide her face. Her face felt warm, no doubt from the blush she knew she had. She heard him quiet some before seeing him crouch down in front of her.

     “H-how long were you standing there?” she asked, flustered.

     “Just enough to see you flying around everywhere,” he replied, resting his cheek against his hand and a teasing smile on his face.

     She let out an embarrassed whine. She felt mortified at how he may have seen everything she did and that was humiliating. It wasn’t that she was now regretting ever doing this or letting herself enjoy it as much as she did. Having someone see her act so…childishly was something she felt uncomfortable with.

     “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he said, dropping his hand. “It was adorable, seeing how much fun you were having.”

     Answering him with another whine, he continued on with, “I think that was my first time seeing you act so…openly, I guess. You’re a lot more withdrawn normally so it was a nice surprise to watch. It’d be nice to see you like that more often.”

     She finally looked up at him, staring into his light green eyes. They were warm and full of love, her heart fluttering the longer she peered in. He placed a hang atop her head and petted it, her cheeks still warm as she pouted.

     “Come on, let’s get you up.” He stood up and held his hand out to her.

     Sighing, she let her hood down and took his hand. He helped her up easily enough and she tried to wring the water out of her cloak. It may have been stupid to hope it hadn’t gotten too wet, considering how she literally dove underwater earlier, but she would be devastated if it was ruined. It was too important to her so she needed to be more careful from now on.

     They climbed up the steps and were east of town. Her blush cooled down as her embarrassment from earlier gave way to anxiety. Today wouldn’t just be her unshackling herself from the hate people imposed on her when she was a child. She was taking a leap of faith, trusting in the hope he wouldn’t think differently of her.

     “Hey, Ferret?” They had just passed the first building when she called out to him. “Is it okay if you come with me to see Eric?”

     Confused, he asked, “Sure, but is there something you need me to do with him?”

     “No, it’s… I’m planning on telling him.”

     That was all she needed to say for him to understand. She was going to tell Eric everything that happened in Thal Esari, both in the past and present. Even her crime, something she wasn’t looking forward to. The prospect had been brought up before when they were there but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever do it. Her fear of him becoming scared of her was still a real possibility in her mind.

     As she said back then, Eric was the first person to befriend her, show kindness to her. He was the reason she lived in Aurora Zenith now, the reason she and Ferreth met, the reason she was finally coming around to accepting herself. She didn’t want to imagine him hating her over what she did. If their friendship shattered after everything was revealed, it’d just kill her.

     Even so, he deserved to know what happened. She struggled with keeping the bad memories from overwhelming her when he first asked her about it. Now, after all she’s been through the past several months, she felt brave enough to tell him.

     She was asking Ferreth to come with her so he’d give her courage. That was why he came with her to Thal Esari and he’d serve the same purpose here. If it somehow went badly, she’d also need him there for comfort. She hoped it wouldn’t end like that and it would go smoothly.

     “What made you decide on telling him?” he asked.

     “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it and I feel like I’m ready. At least, I think I do, anyway…” she replied with a nervous laugh.

     “Hey, if you think you’re ready, then go ahead. Just know that I’ll be there for you, okay? I doubt Eric’s gonna suddenly hate you or be scared of you so…”

     His words were all that she could rely on for this. Even if he turned out to be right and Eric didn’t think any differently of her, it didn’t stop the thought of it actually happening from plaguing her mind. All she could do was hope and pray that things would be all right in the end.

     They arrived at the plaza, busy as it would be after the start of a new season. It was strange how, even with Aurora Zenith being more condensed yet bigger than Thal Esari, she liked the ambiance. Maybe it was because she had felt welcomed and not terrified for her life like she thought she’d be. It was nice to have people actually accepting her instead of shunning her for being a Vlixeox. She missed this while they were gone and she was going to enjoy it.

     The plaza was generally regarded as the marketplace, as evident by the many shops and stalls open for business. It was also the place for people to gather around and socialize, something she still wasn’t used to yet. The smell of freshly cooked food made her mouth water as she overheard the chatter and laughter all around her. A small smile rose to her face; she considered this place to be her home and she wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the whole world.

     “By the way, there’s something else I wanted to tell you.” He leaned his head over to listen. “I decided to forgive Lady Filaurel for what she did.”

     As if he swallowed something and it went down badly, he coughed a few times before exclaiming, “What?! I’m sorry, but what the fuck?”

     “Okay, hear me out.” She took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to phrase what she’d say next. “All my life, I’ve been told that I was a monster. I was a monster because I was a Vlixeox, which meant I didn’t have the right to exist. I believed them, especially after what I did. I still believe them now but I want to prove to both everyone and myself that I’m not. To me, I think forgiving Lady Filaurel would be the first step to doing that because monsters wouldn’t know what forgiveness was. That’s just what I think, though.”

     It may have been strange to those who didn’t understand it but that’s what she believed. The “monster” she faced in the swamp, seven of the people she killed, forgave her when she felt she didn’t deserve such a thing. She was the reason they weren’t alive anymore and they still showed her forgiveness. If they could do that to their killer, then she could forgive Filaurel for all she did to her. It was a choice she knew not many would agree with but it was still her decision to make.

     “Am I wrong for doing that?” she asked. His feelings toward her had been made very clear so she had an idea of how he’d take this.

     Running a hand through his hair, he replied, “You already know how I feel about her. I absolutely despise that bitch for all she’s done to you and, if it were me, I never would’ve forgiven her.

     “But--” he placed both hands on her shoulders-- “you’re not me. I may disagree with your choice but it’s not my place to tell you what to do. If you wanna forgive her, then I’ll support you, no matter what. Who am I to judge on how you want to heal?”

     “Thank you, Ferret. I appreciate it,” she said, smiling softly. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that people like me should forgive those that have hurt them. It’s just how I see things.”

     “I figured that’s what you meant.”

     They walked up the stone stairs that led to Eric’s house. It sat nestled in a gathering of elm trees just growing their leaves back and on the cliff she had flown under earlier. The front was painted a faded silvery white and had a porch of the same color that spanned to both ends of the house. The front door was in the middle, two small windows on its left and a large on its right, the nailed-in shutters black. The porch steps creaked under their feet as they stopped at the door. It was a beautiful mahogany door with a simple bronze knocker sitting atop it. Above the knocker was the emblem for Aurora Zenith inscribed in gold.

     She tapped the door with the knocker’s handle a couple times. As she waited for someone to answer, she looked up at the emblem. It depicted honeysuckle vines crawling up towards the sun, its ray of light shining down on the town below. This was meant to represent her home, the place she swore to protect. She hoped it’d still be her home after all was said and done.

     The door swung open to reveal Delrelle. They were Eric’s housekeeper and, though she’s only met them once or twice, they seemed nice, if a bit stoic. Their face held no emotion as they greeted them with a bow.

     “Lady Venlithea and Sir Ferreth, what business have you here today?” they asked, standing upright.

     “We’re here to see Eric, we have something we wish to speak with him about,” she replied. “Could we see him if he isn’t too busy?”

     “Let me check in with him.” They closed the door and, after a moment passed, they opened the door and stepped aside. “I’ll see you to his office.”

     The two of them were then led to where Eric’s office was. They passed by a white staircase leading up to the second floor on their right and the archway that served as the threshold to the living room on their left. A white trim divided the light blue walls in the middle and a long white rug covered the hardwood floor, stretching from the foyer all the way down to the double doors in the back. Paintings of Brinegarde, Thornewind, Mapleshear, and Ravenstrand decorated the walls, what were once Eric’s sketches given life. Small side tables had trinkets such as a seashell, a windmill sculpture, a maple leaf preserved in resin, and a small bowl full of gemstones from the towns he visited over the past ten months. It felt homey.

     When Delrelle knocked on the door, a second wave of anxiety swept over her. It was only a matter of time now until he learned the truth. A pit began to form in her stomach, growing wider and winder as she let out a shaky breath. Her heart pounded against her chest and she was finding it hard to breathe---

     Ferreth’s hand took hold of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. No words had to be said for her to remember. He was going to be in there with her, be the beacon of courage she so desperately needed right now. She took a deep breath and squeezed back, letting him know she was okay.

     After hearing a muffled “Come in”, the three of them walked inside. Eric sat at a maple desk with stacks upon stacks of paper piled all over, half read books sitting on top of some. Bookshelves filled with history, law, art, and story books lined the walls. They stood on a grand, ornate rug that blanketed the floor, the only thing in the room that carried some sense of sophistication. The whole room fit someone who valued simplicity over complexity but still had something to show for his position.

     Bowing, Delrelle said, “Master, Lady Venlithea and Sir Ferreth have some matters they wish to speak with you about. I’ll leave them in your care.”

     “Thank you.” Eric stood up from his chair to stretch as they went back out to the hallway, closing the door behind them. “Ven, Ferreth, what brings you two here?”

     “Were you in the middle of something?” Ferreth asked.

     “Nah, I was just taking a break before--” he raised his arms above his head, a soft pop echoing in the room-- “getting back to work. You had something to talk about?”

     “It’s more like I had something to tell you,” she spoke up. “Something important.”

     “Well, what is it?”

     She swallowed nervously, the moment of truth finally here. The moment in which everything could change between them. Ferreth put a hand on her back to push her forward, his way of telling her to go through with it. Refusing to let her resolve be shaken, she looked Eric dead in the eye.

     “Do you remember when you asked me how the people of my old village treated me back on the boat ride here?” she asked, trying to not let her anxiety show.

     “...Yeah,” he replied, regret flickering across his face for a split second. “Am I finally gonna hear about that?”

     “I’m finally ready to tell you everything. I’m honestly scared but you deserve to know every last thing that happened.”

     “Ven, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Don’t feel like you need to tell me unless you want to.”

     “You’re the last person I ever wanted to tell this to because you mean so much to me. It’s because of that that I’m telling you.”

     Then she told him everything she could remember. From how she’d commit petty thievery to survive to the horrific torture she endured. He was never good at hiding how he felt and the anger on his face was plain to see. She really should’ve known what his reaction would be upon hearing her story from the start.

     She hadn’t told him the worst thing yet. The hope was that maybe, just maybe, he’d show mercy to her after learning of what happened that fateful day. He wouldn’t fear or hate her if he knew the reason behind it all. It’d still probably scare him to know she had killed fifteen people but he’d understand why. His kindness knew no bounds, even if it was shown to someone who didn’t deserve it.

     “God, it sounds horrible, what happened to you,” he said, rubbing his hands over and over.

     “There’s still more to tell you and it’s worse than everything else,” she added, the hairs on her body standing on end.

     “What could be worse than what I’ve just heard?”

     “Something not good. Something really bad.”

     She looked to Ferreth, silently pleading for him to give her the strength she needed. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. She laid her hand over his, mustering up the courage to tell him.

     “When I was eight years old, I was banished from Thal Esari.” A chill overcame her as she struggled to breathe. “The reason for that is…that I---”

     There was a knock at the door. Delrelle cracked it open and said there was someone who wished to speak with Eric immediately. A pit of dread began to build up in her stomach as she anxiously wondered who was here. Her heart sank and her eyes widened in shock at the person coming in.

     Filaurel walked up towards them, looking her absolute best. Her gray hair was down from its usual bun, styled to where it rested atop her chest. She wore a stunning floor length pearl white dress with a white and gold cape flowing down to her waist. She had her cane with her like always, though she seemed to be using it for its intended purpose rather than as decoration. Her chin was held up high as she sneered at her, standing before Eric.

     Ferreth attempted to shield her from her but it was no use. He was probably wondering why she was here, much like she. Did she just arrive in Aurora Zenith? What reason was she here for? Did their actions on the day of her ruling play a part into why she was here? The biggest worry she had was what she could possibly do.

     “I don’t believe we’ve met, my name’s Eric Travere, lord of Aurora Zenith.” He came around the desk and held out his hand. “Might I ask for yours?”

     “Ah, yes, I’m Filaurel Crawraek and I’m what you’d call the ‘lord’ of Thal Esari,” she replied, gingerly shaking his hand. “Though I prefer being referred to as ‘Lady’.”

     “So, what brings you all the way here to our little town?” he asked, leaning back on the desk with legs crossed.

     “Well, I unfortunately come bearing bad news about your subordinates, especially concerning Venlithea.” She shot a cold glance towards her. “Has she told you of what she’s done in Thal Esari, both the past and present?”

     It was as if a great weight crashed down upon her. She knew what she was going to tell him. She was going to reveal her crime to him and how she had selfishly asked for forgiveness, all because she questioned her authority. If he heard of it from her, that would be it. Their friendship would be over, he’d drive her out of town, and she’ll be all alone again.

     “I mean, I know some of why she was there a couple weeks ago but I don’t know much of what she’s done in her childhood other than what she’s told me,” he replied, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

     “Then it’s of great importance I tell you this. You see, when she was a child, she---”

     “Don’t tell him!” She grabbed onto her arm in desperation. “Please, I beg you, don’t tell him!”

     “Unhand me at once, Venlithea!” She tried to get out of her grip but she held strong. “He has a right to know of what you did.”

     “Please don’t tell him! I’ll---I’ll do anything you want, just don’t tell him!”

     “When Venlithea was a child, she---”

     “My Lady, please…!” Tears stung her eyes as she fell to her knees, still holding onto her.

     “---took the lives of fifteen people. Cut them down mercilessly.”

     Her heart stopped as she let go of her arm. She would’ve collapsed entirely on the floor if it weren’t for Ferreth gently lifting her by her arms to stand her up. His hands remained on her shoulders to steady her. It felt as if the floor had gone out from under her, the world a blur.

     That was it, her secret was out. Eric now knew of the horrible deed she did. He had to be scared of her now, terrified of her hurting him. Maybe he even hated her and wanted her out of his sight. He was probably beginning to regret meeting her, befriending her, helping her. She was nothing more than a monster in his eyes, the very thing she wanted to prove to everyone she wasn’t. If he wanted her to leave and never come back, she’d do it. If he so desired that, she’d do it. She’d do anything he’d ask of her because she loved him. How tragic was it for a monster to love the person who wished he never saved her?

     “Really?” he asked in disbelief. “What reason would she have to do that?”

     “I honestly can’t fathom why,” she replied. “All I know is, she was sentenced to public lashing after committing yet another act of thievery and she just…snapped.”

     Not even bothering to hide the anger in his voice, Ferreth retorted, “That’s bullshit and you and I both know it.”

     “Ferreth...” Eric warned, attempting to quiet him down. “Could you tell me why Ven would do something like that? I just find it hard to believe that a child at the time could do such a thing.”

     “Venlithea was always a troublesome child. She’d keep getting into skirmishes with the other children, pickpocketed others for their money, the list goes on. She got into trouble so often, I had to resort to the extremes to try and correct her behavior. I thought the multiple lashings would be enough for her to desist but…I was wrong. It is because of my pride that I paid the ultimate price.” She sniffled as if holding back tears. “She’s lucky I only banished her when I could’ve had her executed.”

     All she said were lies. She never got into any fights nor did she steal money from people. She stayed as far away as she could from others and she only stole food from the marketplace; everything else she scavenged for. How could she stand there and lie through her teeth like it was nothing?

     “Funny you say that, because Ven gave me a different version of events. She said people often spoke down to her and she would be threatened with a lashing if she didn’t exactly do what they said. There were days she’d starve or had things she found taken away from her for no reason. If she asked why, it was because she had broken a rule that had been set but she hadn’t heard of the rule until that moment. So, tell me--” Eric placed his hands on the edge of the desk and tilted his head-- “which of you are lying?”

     Letting out a chuckle, Filaurel replied, “Well, you know how Vlixeoxs are. They’re well-renown liars. They’d say anything to make themselves seem innocent and Venlithea’s no exception. After all, she hadn’t told you of her crime and you saw for yourself how much she didn’t want you to know. How do you know she’s not using your kindness against you to suit her agenda?”

     “Oh, you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Ferreth’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “She was gonna tell him about that until you came in and she was begging you not to tell him because she knew you’d twist the truth of what happened to make her out to be the bad guy. You’re the liar here, you old crone.”

     Why did it matter as to who was lying? What’s done was done and she had been outed as a killer. It can never be taken back. What point was there in defending her when it didn’t erase what she did?

     “Another thing, your subordinate here--” she gestured to Ferreth-- “has quite the mouth on him. Let’s just say that, during our last meeting, he took it upon himself to call me very vulgar things, words I’d rather not repeat. I figured to let you know so you could decide on the best course of action to take.”

     “Ohh…” Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Ferreth, is she telling the truth?”

     Letting out a breath, Ferreth replied, “Yes. I admit, I lost my temper and said some pretty…not so good things but I’m not apologizing or taking them back. I couldn’t just stand idly by while she tore into Ven with her remarks. I accept whatever punishment you give to me, my lord.”

     “I see…” He took a moment to think on what he wanted to say next. “Well, as much as it may upset you, Lady Filaurel, there’s not much I can do. He was out of my jurisdiction at the time and, since he hadn’t broken the law over there and was considered a mere visitor, I’m not responsible for his actions outside of Aurora Zenith.”

     “You mean to let him walk scot-free?” she asked, a tinge of anger dripping into her voice.

     “The best I can do is a stern lecture but I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted to hear that.”

     Huffing, she asked, “And what of her? What do you mean to do with Venlithea?”

     “From what I’ve gathered, she hasn’t done anything to warrant disciplinary action. Whatever she did back then doesn’t matter now and even if it did, she was already tried in your court of law.”

     “She’s a Vlixeox, my good sir. It’s far too dangerous for you to let something like her wander around unsupervised. I’d suggest putting in some preventative measures to ensure that a massacre on the scale of Thal Esari’s doesn’t happen again.”

     “Ven’s lived here for about a year now and no one’s had a problem with her, as far as I’m aware. I think we’ll be perfectly fine.”

     “You’re underestimating her. Sooner or later, she’ll take matters into her own hands and you’ll be left with several people dead when their deaths could’ve been prevented. All I’m asking is that you don’t let a repeat of what happened in Thal Esari happen here.”

     “Okay--” He pushed himself off the desk and stood up to his full height-- “forgive me if I’m out of line but you keep going on and on about this tragedy that occurred yet you’ve provided next to no explanations as to what her motive could’ve been. Have you ever thought that you might share part of the blame? Have you ever tried to take responsibility for her actions, since you were her guardian, I’d assume?”

     “Y-you insolent…” She recognized the tone of her voice. It was the tone she’d use if anyone seriously crossed her. “How am I the one to blame for what Venlithea did? I’m not the one who tore their bodies asunder while others ran and pled for mercy! Do you have any idea how hard it was to raise a child such as she and it turn out to be a complete failure? I’m still paying for the mistakes she made! You clearly do not deserve the title bestowed upon you if you won’t heed my advice.

     “Only a fool would trust someone who committed mass murder in the past. I’d only ask you don’t come crying to me when she inevitably kills again because you refused to see how dangerous the beast really was. You’ll be just as much a monster as she is for letting her do such a heinous thing.”

     Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Her mind kept replaying what Filaurel said with so much clarity. Eric, her light, her savior, would be considered a monster for what she did if the time where she’d kill again ever came? That wasn’t right; someone as kind and sincere as him could never be a monster.

     A deep seething anger began to stir inside her. It was one thing to call her a monster when she already knew she was. She gritted her teeth and clenched her shaking hands into fists. It was a whole other thing to call Eric, someone that reached a gentle hand out to her, someone she loved with every fiber of her being, a monster. The words spilled from her mouth before she could stop herself.

     “What did you say, Venlithea?” she asked indignantly.

     Whirling around to face her, she heatedly replied, “I said shut up!”

     She took a step back from her sudden outburst. “W-where do you get off on speaking to me like that? Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to, Venlithea?”

     “I think the better question is, where do you get off on speaking to him like that? He’s a monster for whatever I do? How dare you… He saved me from the darkness you put me in, he gave me a reason to live from the hell you put me in, he gave me a home I’m happy in, and you call him a monster for helping me? You should be ashamed…you no-good, lying bitch!”

     A resounding crack rang clear in the room. Her cheek burned from Filaurel slapping her as she stood there in shock, realizing what just happened. She only had one question on her mind: was that it?

     A sense of extreme hostility overcame the room. She could hear a hiss followed by vicious growling beside her. Eric was warning Ferreth not to do anything stupid, which she figured to be bloody murder. Her eyes wandered over to Filaurel, hand still raised in the air after striking her. She touched her cheek and let out a short breathless laugh in utter amazement.

     “Huh…that’s the best you can do?” she asked, a brazen smile on her face. “That’s what I was afraid of all this time? I used to be so scared of you but now I see there wasn’t any reason to be…Grandmother.”

     She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “This is hardly the time for jokes.”

     “In one of the last entries Thessalia wrote before her death, she talked about how she had to swallow her pride and beg you for help because she was so lost on what to do with me. She thought you’d have a shred of love for her to know that she was scared, especially since the time I would be born was coming closer and closer. Instead, you told her she was on her own and left her all alone.

     “I read all the ways you tried to control her and when she got away from you, you disowned her. I was your second chance at getting the ‘perfect’ child you always wanted but I turned out to be a Vlixeox. You couldn’t stand knowing that your grandchild, the baby you waited so long for to mold into someone you deemed perfect, was a Vlixeox. You took all your anger and hatred out on me and I didn’t know any better.”

     “I tried my best to raise you but you refused to behave!” she exclaimed, tapping her fingers against the curve of her cane. “If I had known you’d turn out like this, I wouldn’t have wasted so much of my time trying to care for you. If you had just listened to me, I would’ve treated you better.”

     “It wouldn’t have mattered what I did!” She kicked the cane out of her grip. “For years, I believed what you and everyone else said about me. I thought I deserved all the suffering I got because I was a Vlixeox and that meant I was bad. I tried so, so hard to be good and it was never enough. You hurt me over and over and over, even as I laid on the ground bleeding, wishing that I could die so the pain would stop.

     “I was wrong to ask for forgiveness from you because I should’ve known you’d never give it to me. I didn’t have a chance in hell because your mind was set the moment I asked for it. You’re just a sad, bitter old woman that loved breaking me if it brought me a step closer to being your obedient pet.”

     She took a deep breath and glared daggers at her. “I refuse to let you control me for the rest of my life. Both of us may believe I’m a monster but I did something I know you’ll never live down. I’ve forgiven you for all you’ve done to me but you better believe I will never forget it. Now get the hell out of my home and never come back.”

     The room fell into an eerie silence. Filaurel looked at her in shock, as if she never expected her to finally stand up to her. If she was honestly speaking, it was a surprise to her, too. She probably would’ve stopped halfway through if it weren’t for her outrage at Eric being called a monster and the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

     Alek came in just as the quiet began to wear out its welcome. Eric asked for him to show Filaurel the way out, promising to explain what happened later. To everyone’s surprise, she went along with it, only stopping to pick her cane up off the floor. It was when she crossed the threshold she did it. She tossed parting words over her shoulder, seemingly directed towards her.

     “I was wrong to think you were nothing like Thessalia. You got the rebellious streak I despised her for having.”

     That wasn’t something she ever expected to hear. She never once thought she was similar to her mother in any way and reading through her journal seemed to confirm how different they were. Maybe she had more in common with her and it was just a matter of figuring out when and what.

     “Holy shit, Ven, that was amazing!” Ferreth said excitedly, picking her up by the waist to hug her. “You finally told that bitch to fuck off!”

     “Ah, yeah, I…I guess I did, huh?” she replied, her cheeks warm from the sudden hug. “Could you put me down, please?”

     “Yeah, you did.” Eric put a hand on her head and started petting her after she was back on the ground. “I’m proud of you. You finally stood up for yourself.”

     It made her happy beyond words to see pride in his eyes. There was no fear or regret in his voice, only a fond warmth she heard so rarely. Ferreth was right; he wouldn’t think differently of her and it was silly to believe otherwise.

     She was lost in thought as Ferreth dragged her out to “celebrate her victory”. She never imagined her life would be like this when she was a child. She only had a day of no punishments to look forward to back then. She didn’t think she’d have friends, a home she was happy in, people who had love to give, a life. It was because of Filaurel banishing her that everything happened the way it did and…it was the one decision she made that turned out to be good for her.

     If anything, it was thanks to Thessalia she even had a life. She may not have had much choice in the matter but she was still grateful to her for giving her life. She wondered if the voice she heard back at the graveyard was her, letting her know that she was watching over her. She liked to believe it was possible. She held the amethyst ring she kept around her neck between her fingers and smiled.

     Would she be proud of her daughter and the kind of person she was becoming? Would she not need to worry over her anymore now that she was surrounded by people that truly cared about her? She had a home she belonged in. She knew if things ever got tough, she’d be okay. She still believed herself to be a monster but…she was beginning to think she was less of one now.