#also this scene is made even better considering the scene that follows soon behind of rayla and callum being like 'fuck the rules were

[wolfwarrior142]

Rayla going off against the literal queen of a whole society of elves and then having a stern glaring match with her afterward will never not be hilarious to me. The fact that Janai is very clearly having to use all her willpower to not fire back at Rayla and instead heave the biggest sigh known to Xadia before joining the glaring match makes it even funnier. The cherry on top is how shook everyone looks to see Rayla, just a Ghosted Moonshadow, go off on the Sunfire Queen like that. Hilarious. Even Callum is shook and he knows Rayla better than anyone.

Never change, Rayla and Janai. Yall are stubborn as shit and I love it so much.

[thelazyhermits]

One scene that, for a while now, I've been wanting to write is one where Yuu talks to Trey following the library discussion in Book 1 since there's something about the Trey & Riddle dynamic that I've never really seen explored that I personally think played a big role in Trey's reluctance to stop Riddle, even though it was never really mentioned in canon, meaning this is just my HC.

After being inspired by the first TWST novel, I decided to finally write that scene and share my HC, all of which will be underneath the cut.

Also, for those unfamiliar with my writing, my Yuu is female. I'm mentioning that cause her gender gets mentioned once at the end of the drabble, so those who prefer to read G/N readers may not be interested in this particular drabble.

For those who do decide to read this drabble, I hope y'all enjoy it! 😊

Once it’s decided that both Ace and Deuce will challenge Riddle for leadership of the Heartslabyul dorm, Crowley takes his leave, so he can get the paperwork prepared for tomorrow’s duels.

The rest of you also soon disperse, with Trey heading in the direction of the Hall of Mirrors while the rest of you head for Ramshackle dorm since Ace and Deuce obviously don’t want to go back to their dorm after the unpleasant events of today’s unbirthday party.

Or at least, you start to head in the direction of your dorm before having a last minute change of heart since there’s something you really need to get off your chest that you don’t think you can afford to put off to a later time.

That’s why you tell Grim, Ace, and Deuce to go on ahead and that you’ll catch up with them after you take care of something, catching them all by surprise.

In order to avoid getting questioned by them, you immediately run off after you let them know that you have something you need to do.

Thankfully, they don’t chase after you since the conversation you’re about to have is one that would be better without an audience.

Moving as fast as you can, you hurry toward the direction of the Hall of Mirrors, and much to your relief, a few minutes later, you catch sight of the person you’re looking for.

“Trey-senpai!”

Upon hearing you call out to him, Trey, who had been walking with his head down and his shoulders hunched, jolts before turning to look at you in surprise. “Yuu?”

After taking a moment to catch your breath once you come to a stop before him, you make sure no one else is around before bluntly asking, “You’re not actually afraid of Riddle-senpai and his Unique Magic, are you?”

Trey stares at you with noticeable surprise, obviously caught off guard by your question. “Huh?”

“Earlier, when Ace was condemning you for your inaction, I stayed quiet since I pretty much agreed with everything he said.” You remark, “With the exception of him accusing you of being afraid of Riddle-senpai ‘cause I know you’re not.”

You look Trey dead in the eye. “You’re not afraid OF him. You’re afraid FOR him, ‘cause you don’t want him to suffer ‘cause of whatever decisions you make, like what happened in the past.”

Flinching, as if he’s been hit, a wide-eyed and now noticeably pale Trey takes an unconscious step back as he asks, “H-How…? Did Che’nya…?”

Your expression softens upon seeing his visceral reaction, which proves just how profoundly impacted Trey had been by the visit Riddle’s mother made to his family’s bakery after she found out about her son sneaking out behind her back when Riddle and Trey were children.

Of course, you’re not surprised, considering how frightened Trey had been when you saw that particular memory of Riddle’s past. The bespectacled boy was on the verge of tears just like Riddle, not that you can blame them, since any child would’ve been terrified after seeing Riddle’s angry mother, who really should’ve known better than to look so threatening while children were present.

Upon remembering how scared those two kids had been in your last dream, you have to take a quick, deep breath to rein in your anger since the last thing you want is to lash out at Trey when that anger should only be directed at that woman, whom you’d love nothing more than to challenge to a cage match despite your usual aversion to them.

Once you’ve taken a moment to collect yourself, you finally answer Trey’s question. “This will probably be really hard for you to believe, but since the night Ace got collared, I’ve been having these dreams that show me Riddle-senpai’s memories. Don’t ask me how or why ‘cause I have absolutely no idea. Something like this has never happened to me before.”

Trey’s eyes grow even wider. “You saw Riddle’s memories? Seriously?”

Nodding, you proceed to reel off all the memories you’ve witnessed the last two nights, which mostly consisted of all the intense study sessions Riddle had with his mother, although last night you also saw some memories involving Trey and Che’nya.

When you recall the last memory you saw before you woke up this morning, you frown, “Before I woke up, I saw a memory of you and Che’nya-san bringing Riddle-senpai to your family’s bakery ‘cause you wanted Riddle-senpai to get the chance to try a strawberry tart, which was something he had been admiring from afar for a while since his mother told him that eating one would be like eating poison.”

As Trey’s posture noticeably stiffens, you continue, “At first, I really enjoyed the memory since you all looked so happy, and it was nice seeing Riddle-senpai smiling so much and enjoying that strawberry tart with all his heart, but…”

Your frown deepens. “Then, I took notice of the clock on the wall and realized that he was gonna be late getting back to his house ‘cause he got so caught up in enjoying the tart. I immediately began to panic ‘cause I didn’t know what his mother would do if she found out what he had been doing with you guys, but sadly, there was nothing I could do to change a moment from the past.”

“Even worse, I woke up before I could see the fallout of Riddle-senpai getting home late.” You grimace, “And it gave me this strong sense of foreboding, which was pretty accurate, considering how today’s unbirthday party turned out.”

While Trey nods in agreement, wearing a grimace of his own, you inform, “After we left the party, we ran into Che’nya-san who told us to talk to you about Riddle-senpai. While Grim and the others went on ahead after Che’nya-san gave that advice and seemingly disappeared, I stuck around, so I could try to get more info outta him since I had a feeling he hadn’t actually left the area.”

“I wanted to know if the reason you two weren’t trying to stop Riddle-senpai was related to what happened after that bakery visit ‘cause the two kids I got to know after watching Riddle-senpai’s memories were the type of people who would’ve tried to stop him by now rather than let him continue down the dangerous road he’s currently on.” You continue, “Obviously, something had happened between what happened in that last memory and recent events, and it changed you and Che’nya-san and how you both act around Riddle-senpai.”

“Of course, Che’nya-san wouldn’t give me a straight answer.” You huff, “Instead, after he found out about the weird dreams I’ve been having, he suggested that I take a cat nap, so I could see for myself what happened next since that’s the only way I’d really understand.”

Trey weakly chuckles, “Typical Che’nya….”

“Since I really didn’t have any better ideas, I followed his advice and took a nap while we were waiting for you at the library.” You reveal, “And amazingly enough, I did have a follow up memory dream that showed me what happened to Riddle-senpai after his mother found out what he had been doing every day during his independent study time.”

“That’s how I know about how she punished him and took away what little freedom he had, which meant he could no longer see you and Che’nya-san.” You quietly add, all the while cursing that woman in your heart for all the pain you had to witness Riddle endure, because she treated her son more like a prized show dog she was grooming rather than an actual human child with thoughts and feelings of his own. 

Trey winces, “I see…”

Averting his gaze, Trey drags a hand through his hair before sighing, “You were right earlier. I’m not afraid of getting collared, not really. I’m afraid that I’ll cause Riddle even more suffering, even though I rationally know that he’ll suffer regardless of what I do.”

“I just…” He hesitates before releasing another, much heavier sigh. “I don’t want to make things even worse for him. He’s already gone through enough as it is…”

It’s just as you had guessed. Trey isn’t refraining from stopping Riddle simply because he’s afraid of rocking the boat and can’t bear to condemn the redhead when he knows exactly why his childhood friend acts the way he does, although those are factors at play here.

More than anything, Trey just can’t bring himself to take action, because, the last time he did that, Riddle paid the price, and Trey still can’t completely forgive himself for that.

Naturally, you can’t allow Trey to remain stuck in such a foolish mindset.

Catching him completely off guard, you quickly close the distance between the two of you and reach up to give his forehead a hard flick. “You big dummy. While Ace was right that you’re partially responsible for Riddle-senpai’s current behavior, you were NOT at all responsible for Riddle-senpai’s suffering back then. That responsibility fully rests on his mother’s shoulders.”

As his wide eyes look into yours, you firmly hold his gaze. “You and Che’nya-san did nothing wrong. On the contrary, I wanna commend you two for being the reasons for the only truly happy memories I got to see. In all of his memories that I saw, Riddle-senpai always looked the happiest when he was with you guys.”

“Yes, Riddle-senpai suffered a lot because he came into contact with you two, but I know he doesn’t regret meeting you guys, and if given the opportunity to go back in time, I bet he’d still choose to meet you two since his time with you guys was just that precious to him.” You continue, “Because, even if it came at a very high cost, the happiness you gave him was still worth it in the end.”

You can say that so confidently, because, if something like that had happened to you, whose childhood has some strong similarities to Riddle’s, that’s how you would’ve felt. 

No matter what kind of fallout you would’ve had to endure, you would’ve never regretted making friends and experiencing true kindness and care for the first time.

Because some things are just worth the pain. 

Trey’s surprised expression quickly becomes pained. “It’d be nice if that was the truth, but-”

“Tell me, is it just a coincidence that two childhood friends are the dorm and vice dorm leaders of Heartslabyul, or did Riddle-senpai ask you to be his vice dorm leader?” You ask, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.

Appearing both surprised and confused, Trey just stares for a moment before answering, “Riddle asked me to be his vice dorm leader after he became dorm leader.”

“And why did he ask you, of all people, to take that important position?” You raise an eyebrow. “Surely, it wasn’t just because you’re both childhood friends and because he wanted someone who could always play peacemaker between him and the other members of your dorm. Someone like Riddle-senpai wouldn’t pick someone for only reasons like that, right?”

Rather than give you an answer, Trey remains quiet. Whether it’s because Riddle never actually gave him a reason for asking him to be his vice dorm leader or because he doesn’t understand why you’re asking these types of questions, you’re not sure, but it doesn’t matter since you already know the answer to your question.

With a huff, you forcefully poke his chest. “The main reason Riddle-senpai appointed you over everyone else is obvious. He TRUSTS you, more than anyone.”

“And if he trusts you, that means he still cares about you, just as much as he did back when you were kids.” You reveal, “It means he doesn’t hold you at all responsible for what happened back then.”

“Because, if he did, he wouldn’t want you constantly by his side, now would he?” You knowingly ask.

Trey’s eyes grow large as his breath catches. “T-That’s…”

After a long pause, Trey releases a shaky breath as he hangs his head. “He really doesn’t blame me at all, does he? Despite everything…”

Your expression softens. “The only person he ever blamed was himself for breaking his mother’s rules and disappointing her. I never saw him blame anyone else, especially not you or Che’nya-san.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Trey bitterly mutters as he slowly shakes his head.

Briefly, you look at him with noticeable sympathy because of what he had to go through as a kid thanks to Riddle’s tyrant mother before you harden your features since you can’t afford to go soft on him now.

“If you feel this bad about past events, which weren’t even actually your fault, you’re only going to be even more miserable when Riddle-senpai endures even more suffering ‘cause of current events that you actually are largely responsible for, ‘cause you betrayed the trust he put in you by staying quiet.” You matter-of-factly state, making Trey flinch.

When he remains quiet and keeps his head lowered, you continue, “I understand your current thought process. You think that it’s better to do nothing than risk doing something that could potentially make his situation even worse, but you’re wrong - dead wrong.”

A deep frown forms on your face. “Because a guy who sits back and does nothing when his friend is obviously in need of his help is way worse than a guy whose actions cause trouble for his friend after he makes a genuine effort to help them.”

“I can guarantee that, if you continue as you are, you’ll come to greatly regret your inaction way more than you ever will anything else you could potentially do for Riddle-senpai.” You continue, “So I highly recommend that you take some time to seriously think about Riddle-senpai, who’s only going to continue spiraling, and what’s best for him.”

“And you should make that decision sooner rather than later ‘cause, right now, your dorm is a metaphorical house of cards that’s barely holding together.” You add, “At this point, I think all it’ll take is one strong enough breeze, and it’ll all come tumbling down, and Riddle-senpai will be the one who suffers the most from the fall.”

It’s at that moment Trey finally lifts his head and breaks his silence. “Why are you saying all this to me? I had thought you had approached me because you’re worried about Ace and Deuce and their situation with our dorm, but now, I’m not so sure. Now, it seems more like you’re actually concerned about Riddle, and I can’t figure out why since, unlike me, you have no reason to care about him.”

He scrutinizes you with his disbelieving, slightly suspicious eyes. “Surely, it’s not just because you took pity on him after seeing his past.”

Feeling slightly exasperated since he’s temporarily changing the subject so he can put off the conversation he obviously does not want to continue having with you, you huff, “Of course not. While I definitely felt empathetic after seeing his memories, I’m not acting out of pity. Unlike a certain someone I could name, I’m not the type who goes easy on people because I know about their tragic backstories.”

Rather than react to your verbal jab, Trey raises an eyebrow. “If that’s truly the case, what are your motivations then?”

After taking a moment to consider his question and find the right words to respond, you answer, “To put it simply, I just can’t bear to watch Riddle-senpai continue as he is ‘cause he reminds me a little too much of myself. It’s just too awkward and uncomfortable, and I’d really rather not have to deal with all that for the whole school year, you know?”

His eyes grow large. “He…reminds you of yourself…?”

Immediately, you can see the metaphorical cogs start turning in his head, and judging from his constantly shifting expressions, Trey’s definitely assuming the worst about your upbringing, which is understandable, considering what he knows about his childhood friend.

Obviously, you have no intention to actually tell your upperclassman about your abusive upbringing since that’s not a topic you’d ever want to willingly discuss, especially not with someone you hardly even know.

That’s why, before Trey can start asking questions, you give him a vague explanation that will hopefully be enough to satisfy him. “Like Riddle-senpai, I grew up in a metaphorical cage that didn’t allow me much freedom. I also dealt with lots of high expectations that weighed heavily on my shoulders.”

Regrettably, the high expectations you mention had nothing to do with someone thinking highly of you and your abilities. Instead, they were just Mumei’s expectations that you would continue to win your cage-fights and be a source of income for him since all you ever were to him was a tool to make money.

After quickly dismissing those depressing thoughts, you add, “Which is why I can understand where Riddle-senpai is coming from to a certain extent at least, even though our upbringings were overall quite different.” 

Thankfully, rather than try to pry further, Trey just watches you with noticeably sympathetic eyes, making you assume that he believes that you’re telling the truth. “I see…”

Since this really isn’t a topic you want to dwell on, you quickly try to get this conversation back on track. “One major difference between me and Riddle-senpai is that, in a hypothetical situation where the two of us were trapped in physical cages and said cages suddenly opened, I think I would be the only one who would actually try to escape after confirming that the coast was clear.”

The corners of your lips dip downward. “Considering how Riddle-senpai feels about rules, I think, if he was told that it was against the rules to leave that cage, he’d stay right where he was, even when his freedom was right in his grasp, because he would never dare to oppose his mother and her rules.” 

Trey’s expression becomes pained. “You’re probably right.”

Catching him by surprise, you say, “I think only one thing could possibly get Riddle-senpai to come out of that cage willingly.”

You look straight into his wide eyes. “And that’s you extending a hand to him. After all, that’s how you got him to leave his cage the first time, isn’t it?”

For several seconds, Trey just stares. “That’s…”

“I know this isn’t as easy as me and Ace make it sound, but it’s a fact that YOU need to do something, Trey-senpai.” You remark, “Because, as much as I’d like to help someone get out of their cage after having finally escaped mine by coming to this school, it’s not me that Riddle-senpai needs. It’s YOU. In his current state, YOUR hand is the only one he’ll take.”

Letting your voice soften, you request, “So please help him out of that lonely cage that’ll only cause him even more suffering the longer he remains in it. Help him before it’s too late to reach out your hand to him.”

Shoulders slumping, Trey tries to hide his current, distressed expression behind one of his hands. “I…”

Deciding to take pity on him since you’d like to think you’re not as bad as Ace, you reach over to comfortingly pat his shoulder. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right this very minute. All I wanted was for you to take my concerns seriously, and by the looks of it, you are, so I’m willing to leave it at that.”

“Because I’m apparently more of a busybody than I thought, I just couldn’t leave you alone ‘til I said my piece, and now that I have, I’m gonna back off since, in the end, it really is none of my business what you do.” You remark before you pull your hand away from him. 

As an afterthought, you add, “Although, I really do wanna do something about the whole tyrant dorm leader situation you got going on at your dorm since, if Riddle-senpai stays as he is, I might end up having to permanently take care of Ace and Deuce at my dorm like I do Grim, and I’d really rather not have to deal with any additional troublesome responsibilities being put on my shoulders.”

Trey’s posture relaxes as he snorts, “That does sound like it’d be tough, so I can’t blame you for feeling that way.”

“I really am sorry for all of this.” Trey sincerely apologizes, after he pulls his hand away from his face, like he did earlier at the library when you and your friends first confronted him about Riddle. “I feel bad for getting you involved in my dorm’s troublesome situation when you've already got enough on your plate as it is by being the school’s sole female magicless student, which I’m sure can’t be easy.”

Catching you by surprise, Trey reaches over to gently pat your head, making you immediately remember that he has younger siblings, whom you had found out about when you saw Riddle’s memory about his visit to Trey’s family’s bakery, since Trey's current actions really make him look like a big brother.

“And thank you.” Trey smiles in the kind of genuine way you’ve only seen in Riddle’s memories. “For looking out for Riddle. Not many people would be willing to do that for obvious reasons, so I really appreciate it.”

Completely unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of warm gestures like this, all you can do is stare.

Meanwhile, Trey continues, “That’s why I intend to take your concerns seriously since it’s the least I can do, even though I honestly still don’t know what’s the best thing for me to do for Riddle.”

His smile becomes sheepish as he pulls his hand away from your head. “Sorry, I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to hear after going through the trouble of reaching out to me.”

“It’s fine.” You shrug after overcoming your earlier surprise. “I figured things would turn out like this since this is something you need to give a lot of thought toward. I would’ve been more surprised if you had changed your mind and agreed to convince Riddle-senpai to stop being a tyrant.”

“As long as you’re taking me seriously and not dismissing the legitimate concerns I brought up, I’m satisfied.” You add, “That’s about all I can ask of you, considering our current circumstances.”

Holding up a hand in parting, you turn to leave. “So, with that, I’ll take my leave since I don’t wanna leave Grim, Ace, and Deuce unsupervised at my dorm for too long. I’ll see you tomorrow for Ace’s and Deuce’s duels.”

“You know, I still think that the duels are a bad idea. Ace and Deuce don’t stand a chance against Riddle. Are you sure you shouldn’t talk them out of it before it’s too late?”

Pausing at Trey’s question, you reply, “I agree their chances of winning are low, but I have no intention of interfering since this is something they both really wanna do. There’s no talking them out of this now that they’ve got their hearts set on beating Riddle-senpai.”

Looking over your shoulder, you meet Trey’s worried gaze. “Besides, as I said earlier, inaction won’t solve anything; in this kinda situation, it’ll just cause more trouble in the long run, and those two both know that. They know they have to do SOMETHING. Otherwise, nothing will change.”

Although, I’d be lying if I said that I’m not worried about the possibility of things changing for the worse ‘cause of those duels. You think to yourself. Since literally anything could happen, and Riddle-senpai is currently like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any given moment.

When you find yourself thinking of Riddle's impending implosion, you wince. If that happens, we’ll all be in serious trouble...

Little did you know just how right you were.

[kelpweedkelpweedingkelpweeds]

Trying to write Fated, and then got inspired by this post and decided "hey, why not write a future scene since you're also in the mood for marecal angst"

It's currently 12 am in where I live, I wrote this while half delirious after celebrating CNY and I groped myself more times than can be considered normal while trying to visualise a certain scene *cough* so anyways here's "don't be such a possessive ass", in honour of Cal being a fuck up

Warning: I write this man absolutely pathetic for his girlfriend-turned-weirdthingthatslikeadivorcedwidowbutnotreally, so if you cringe just know that I probably did too while cackling

---

Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her.

Cal could feel the heavy weight of eyes on his back as he pulled his shirt off. It burned trails down his spine, and it took everything in him to keep his eyes angled away. He wouldn't look at Mare, especially not when he heard the soft thud of silk hitting the ground as she undressed. It wouldn't be the first time he views her in nothing but underclothes; hell, he had seen her completely naked plenty of times but even standing in mere proximity felt more so an invasion of privacy.

He didn't deserve to look at her, not after what he had done on that day. The words felt so wrong coming out of his mouth, as he tried to convince her and mostly himself that what he was about to do was the right thing. That for once in his life, he had made the correct choice. The alliance would never have held up, and the current political situation is too precarious to leave any role of monarch vacant, Cal told himself in vain hopes of coming to peace with his decision. There is more that one can do in a position of power than without.

The desperation and the heartbreak as he begged and pleaded had been oh so real however, scorching bitterness that coated his mouth with an acrid aftertaste long after she left. If she hadn't turned away, he might have gotten on his knees and grovelled at her feet in the mere hopes of getting her to stay.

But as usual, he could never bring himself to stop her, to grab her hand as she walked into the distance. She deserved that freedom, at the very least.

"Here." Farley's voice jolted Cal out of his unknowing journey through painful memories. He blinked furiously, whirling around quickly enough to catch her eyes narrowed at his exposed collarbone.

Oh.

Cal would be ashamed to admit it made his insides curl with undeserved pleasure every time he spotted that dark bruise reflected back at him in the mirror. It was thoroughly distracting, allowing him to bask in the ghost of her lips on his shoulder back in the peace of Piedmont before reality slapped him cold in the face.

He wasn't going to get a new one of those any time soon, if ever again.

Stop.

"Nothing in your size, Barrow?" Tyton was a man of few words, and he conversed in a manner far too relaxed for someone about to go out and fight.

"I'll have words with the tailor when we get back." Mare spoke so casually, it made a part of him ache. The words she exchanged with him at the dinner were clipped and cold, and hearing the mock smugness in her voice stirred unwanted emotions in him.

Stop it.

Unconsciously, Cal exposed the bracelets glinting on his wrists. It was a longtime habit of his, whenever he felt particularly annoyed or uncomfortable at what someone said. It usually served as a threat, for when his patience was being pushed.

He followed behind the group as he grabbed a pistol and sufficient ammunition. His ability would usually suffice, but the more time he spent outside the Silver court the more he realised that it usually was better to have some form of backup plan. Especially when dealing with silence.

He saw Tyton shove gear towards Mare as she protested against him. The way he looked at her triggered something in him, a small prick of sourness at the tip of his tongue.

"Some raiders are silents." Mare froze, the fear in her eyes a familiar heart-wrenching sight to Cal. He was well aware of how terrified of silence she was, when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, her eyes wide as she buried her face in his shoulder.

Stop it. Get her out of your head, Calore.

His eyes were still on her as Tyton proceeded to fix the belt around her waist. He said something, but all Cal could pay attention to was his fingers grazing near her hipbone as he adjusted the buckles around her waist. The way that slipping the gun into its holster allowed his hand to brush the side of her ribs, far too close to the lower curve of her breast to be considered chaste.

He probably watched her strip.

Cal's stomach stirred with a feeling he couldn't name. It was an unpleasant sensation, flaring in him like a roaring inferno, manifesting as waves of radiating heat exploding out from him. He glared holes through the floor as he tried to calm his breathing down, all the while storming ahead and refusing to look at her.

Mare had the right to talk to whoever she so pleases, and she could very well deal with inappropriate contact however she saw fit. She didn't and will never belong to him, though it wasn't like he was going to police the way people interacted with her. They were now, at best, reluctant allies and nothing more. She clearly loathed him and while he could never bring himself to hate her, his feelings towards her were an indiscernible mix of yearning and betrayal and devastation. No longer were they the same people who laughed at dinner parties together and comforted each other after traumatic nightmares. He shouldn't be feeling such things from seeing her intimacy with another man, he couldn't. It would be his ruin.

But right now, Cal's mind was far too preoccupied with the hundreds of different ways he intended to murder Tyton if he ever dared touch her like that again. Starting with the burning of his hand off, ending with the incineration of his ashes.

"Careful with those hands, Tyton." Cal's voice was low, a barely concealed threat. "She bites."

Tyton laughed mockingly, his eyes fixed on a particular spot on Cal's shoulder blade now covered with cloth.

Ah.

It appeared that Tyton was more than aware of the accidental innuendo Cal had just created. Somehow, it made him even more infuriated, the fact that Tyton had seen it and still decided to go ahead with whatever the hell it was he was trying to do.

He was distracted away from his fury by Mare walking up to him, her eyes alight with an unusual amount of fire. It sparked something in him, seeing her cheeks, the tips of her ears and her neck all tinted bright crimson. Apparently she still felt enough towards him to be capable of embarrassment and he didn't know what to think of it. Everytime their eyes met, it triggered an irresistible impulse in Cal, to hold her again like he would have before the world came between them. He resisted it once more, like he had every time before.

He distantly thought about leaving his own noticeable mark on her, so that some people would keep their hands to themselves before realising with some horror that it made him a terrible person to think things like that.

She continued till they were standing side by side and he could hear her soft breathing.

Then she slammed her elbow hard into his side. "Don't be such a possessive ass." Her hissed words stung more than the new pain in his ribs. "If you insist on calling yourself a king, you can at least act like one."

Possessive. Never before in his life had Cal felt territorial feelings of any sort. As the crown prince and future king-to-be, he had everything he could ever want served to him on a gold-rimmed platter. Riches, authority, suitors all waiting in line for his perusal.

And yet, her love being the one thing he ever desired, her being the one person he was so desperate to have by his side, she just kept slipping through his fingers. It was a special kind of frustration that warranted the pained sound that left him.

He watched as she turned her back on him, just like she did on that balcony in Corvium with tear stains on her cheeks.

Another part of him broke.

Pull it together, Calore.

---

Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this, people's comments really do fuel my "oh wow people actually care about the things rolling about in my brain" syndrome :)

[driftward]

Sometimes, you find vermin out in the desert.

Sometimes, monsters.

A desertwalkers story.

Assensing the Scene

Seven bodies.

Zoissette would not have stopped for one - dead people happened out here, and there was no use crying over every one, or even any one - but seven was excessive, even by the lethal standards of civilization in the frontier.

So now the Stormwitch was cooling its engine while Zoissette stood in the middle of the patchwork group of buildings, hands on her hips, considering.

Seven bodies.

The time between each one’s demise could not have been spaced too far apart.

A massacre of some sort, then.

Not a raid. There were not nearly enough tracks leading in, and the scene was not nearly messy enough. Oh, there had been obvious movement, that was for sure - at least some of these people were alert and on their feet to greet their deaths. But a raid would have left chaos in its wake, lots of tracks leading in and leading out.

But as she swept the perimeter, Zoissette could only see evidence of the amount of traffic she may have expected to see for such a place.

One notable exception, possibly. She could follow that up later.

For now, there were seven bodies, and the puzzle of it all tugged at her. It was certainly no business of hers, but there was nobody left to protest her indulging her curiosity, and so she set about to it.

First, a sweep through the buildings, to make sure there were only the seven bodies, and also to make sure she was not about to be ambushed by anyone who might have opinions on her presence. But no, the buildings were empty. Whatever happened here, it had gotten the attention of everyone in the settlement, and they had all come outside.

Calling it a settlement seemed a bit much, but she had no other word for it. The scant few buildings that were present surrounded a central bonfire. Not an unusual arrangement for smaller communities. A large central bonfire often served as a decent meeting space, a source of light for anyone who needed to wander out at night, and a handy method of waste removal. At least two of the buildings were completely abandoned, obviously no longer habitable, with broken windows, caved in walls, one had a lean to it that almost suggested its intention to fall over soon, and another with its roof collapsed in.

Zoissette considered. Many would-be settlements did not reach their full second summer. This was one of that sort, and when such places were abandoned, it was not unusual for squatters to move in. Sometimes the more nomadic peoples would use them as temporary abodes, or drifters would turn them to waypoints.

Judging from the evidence of violence, she suspected this one had been set upon as a place to headquarter for a gang. Every one of the seven was armed in some way, and wore the heavier leathers of those who expected to see violence. Likewise, all wore a bandana, striped with the same pattern of colors.

Zoissette scribbled her observations in a notebook, and began to set the scene in her mind. Seven bodies. Probably easiest to keep track of them starting with distance to the campfire, and then sweeping clockwise for those who were about equidistant. The two bodies furthest away, she wasn’t sure would be of much use to answering her questions.

Labels, first. There was a man practically next to the fire, a few feet away from a chair. He was face down, weapon holstered. Shot in the back, it seemed. She decided she would call him Alex, his actual name didn’t matter anymore.

Further out, just behind Alex, was a man she decided to call Bert. Bert had a better go of it. His weapon was actually out, not too far from his hand. He appeared to have been sliced near the neck, and must have rapidly bled out - the hit would have been a critical one, severing an artery. She made a mental note and quickly moved on.

Even further behind Bert was another building, another man’s body slumped against this one, with a blood splatter high up on the wall above him. The other two were Hyurs, but this one was a Miqo’te. One of the ones local to the region, possibly from the Hhetsaro. Curious. Call him Caleb.

She had broken the rule slightly. Moving clockwise was another body that was about as far from the campfire as Bert’s had been, and not that far from him. She was facing away from him, oddly. No bullet holes in her, though Bert could have shot her in the back. This narrowed some theories Zoissette was entertaining. She had two stab wounds. One had come in high, and was angled down. Odd. The other was straight through her gut. It looked like she had been unceremoniously dragged before being dropped where she was.

Daisy, she decided. And tracing Daisy’s path back led to another building. This building had evidence of having been shot. Not shooting at Daisy, though, judging from the path Daisy had taken. The shots had all gone wide, many entirely too high. And this is where Daisy’s weapon was at, a longarm. Which her body was now not so very close to.

Lots of stabbing out here. Not so much slashing. Not so much getting shot. Weird. Think about that. Move on.

If she continued clockwise but going no more distant from the campfire, she would have to move almost to be opposite of where Caleb had been dropped. This was a burly woman. Shorter than many of the others. Hyur. Thick with corded muscle. She had taken a number of hits to go down, and she lay in the dust, two long swords not far from her hands. She looked like some kind of blade butterfly, left to die, flat. Ellen was a good name for her.

The patterns in the dirt near her promised to tell a very interesting tale. Zoissette suspected she would be key for the case, but that would need follow up.

She moved on for the time being.

The last two bodies were definitely furthest from the campfire. One was in front of yet another building, opposite the one Caleb was slumped against, further out than Ellen, but kind of in the same line. He appeared to have been sliced almost in half, starting from one shoulder, and going down almost to his pelvis, where the cutting implement had left his body. Wrong for most swords. Most swords, that kind of strike should have gone through the pelvis as well, if it was something massive enough and heavy enough to make that kind of slice. If it was at the edge of a sword’s reach, such that it was the tip, it would not have been able to slice as far as it did.

Curious.

And something heavy had landed just in front of this person, who she decided to call Fred. Fred’s pistol was still firmly in its holster. She had an idea, but there was one last body.

This one was nestled back a bit, alongside of the building that Fred had died in front of. Off to one side, and far enough back that it would have been hard for them to see the campfire, or for anyone out there to see them. Especially as they were a Lalafell. Woman. Gladys would do for a name. A flask nearby had long since emptied its contents into the ground. She had been stabbed neatly in the back. Again, the strike was entirely too high, starting nearly vertically between her shoulder blades and coming out cleanly just beneath her ribcage. She had been left face down like that. A heavy crossbow on her back had no indication she had ever had a chance to reach for it.

Thoughts and theories began to form in Zoissette’s mind as she walked back towards the central campfire. She could make some educated guesses, but that would only be the start of this investigation, really. But, she suspected, it would be enough. As she walked, she reached up to her amulet, and opened it up, freeing the large amethyst that it held. At the same time, she pulled out a pocket watch, flipping it around to reveal a slot in the back large enough to place said amethyst, which she did. Clicking it carefully into place and closing the casing of the stopwatch around it, she stopped near Alex’s body.

“Lavender, I wish to kindly ask if you might assense this scene.”

The amethyst that was now settled into the stopwatch glowed faintly, and a purple mist flowed out of it, reforming into the familiar form of an elf. Shorter than Zoissette, wearing a dress a good century out of date. Her skin was blue gray, her eyes violet, her long straight hair a deep purple bordering on black.

Lavender, the ghost that haunted the family. She gave Zoissette a little curtsy.

“I am at your disposal, mistress,” she said, looking around. She frowned, and floated over to look down at Alex’s body. “Hmn. Unfortunate.”

“Can we do it?”

“They are within the meagre time limits I can manage, yes. Do you have some hooks we can start to explore?”

“A few,” said Zoissette. “Let me get a few useless ones out of the way, just to be sure.”

She stood, hands on hips, and turned around slowly, taking in the scene one last time.

“Okay. Massacred. Invasion, perhaps. Garrison soldiers or a rival gang, sweep in, big fight, these are the losers.”

“Too vague, and your sense of perspective is entirely too large,” complained Lavender, but she closed her eyes and concentrated anyroad. After a few moments, though, she opened her eyes, and shook her head.

“More specific, then. Alex here. Shot by a rival in the back. This scene is the result of an internal matter. Gang member turning on gang member. Perhaps an argument over spoils, money, or relationships.”

“Better,” conceded Lavender. She closed her eyes, and gave the appearance of concentrating once more. However, again, a few moments passed, and she opened her eyes to shake her head at Zoissette.

“I did not think so, but it is good to rule out unlikely paths early,” said Zoissette. She went over what she had seen so far in her head.

Lots of stab wounds. Not so many slashing wounds. Only one seeming to have been killed by actual bullets. Very little traffic in or out, one unaccounted for, maybe two. Everyone outside. Only one real fight, if she had to guess.

“Par four,” she said quietly, to herself, and then turned to Alex’s body. She crouched near to it, and then glanced over to where Bert was at.

It was time to get serious.

She pointed at Alex.

“This one was in the chair. Resting. He was woken up by something happening over there,” she said, and she gestured at where Fred was. “Got out of his chair. Startled. Began to head over.” She looked at where Bert was, now. “Barely out of his chair when he got shot in the back. That was a surprise, unexpected. Lethal.”

Lavender closed her eyes again, concentrating, holding her hands out to the side. This time, however, her form became diffuse, and Zoissette held her stopwatch in front of her, at the ready. Its hands began to twitch and move of their own accord. Tendrils began to smoke out from Lavender, the thickest ones in Alex’s general direction, wrapping around him, but thinner ones reaching out towards Bert and Daisy, and some few even thinner ones, hairlike, thinly streaming across to where Fred lay. Lavender’s eyes snapped open, revealing that they had become two bright glowing solid purple orbs, energy streaming off of them. The hands on the stopwatch spun madly, now, and when Lavender opened her mouth to speak, her voice was powerful. Imperious. Not loud, not a shout, not a yell, but a voice that made itself known, her two voices, as the word she spoke had a distinct echo to it.

“RESONANCE,” she said, and she disappeared into purple mist, and the scene around them changed.

This all happened in the span of time it took Zoissette to take a single breath in, and let it out. As the world around her was smeared with the foggy energy of otherworldly energy, she clicked the top of the stopwatch, and the hands stopped, at zero.

Alex was asleep in his chair.

Zoissette knew she would not get anything earlier than this. If he was unaware of the world, then there was no world she would be able to see, for this was his memory, sort of. It could now be played back for her convenience by Lavender’s assensing capabilities, as controlled and focused by her stopwatch device. The scene being generated was fuzzy, diffuse, sort of gauzy and see-through.

She clicked the stopwatch again, and time began to flow forward. There was a thud across the way, and Zoissette looked, to see blurry, indistinct blobs in motion over where Fred had died. No wonder. People did not pay nearly as much attention to their surroundings as they thought they did, and memory was a fickle thing. This was not actually Alex’s memory, anyroad, not really. Just an echo of the memories he had when he died. Right now, no part of him was here anymore. He himself was beyond the veil, unreachable.

But people were not so singular and distinct as they thought they were, or so she speculated (and it could only remain speculation, so long as her sample size remained so small. She was loathe to call it a proper theory). Most people thought they began at their thoughts and ended at their skin, but that was not right, not right at all. They were so interconnected with the world around them. They were also the air they breathed, the food they ate, and ultimately expelled. They were the water they drank. Further out from that, they were what people knew of them, the communities they were members of, the history they were a part of.

And they were the Weave they inhabited. And some small parts of them remained, leaving their final impressions on the Weave, when they left. Of course, it would not remain forever, nature always reclaimed her own, but there was a window of time before it all faded away too far to be of use.

And in that window, she could glean truth.

Around her, she could see Alex’s last moments, from his point of view. Transparent, like a ghost. Some parts of it sharp, most of it varying degrees of fuzzy, depending on how much he had noticed a thing. Unfortunately, he had not gotten a good impression of what was happening with Fred across the way, but if her hypothesis was correct, that was not surprising.

Alex was in motion, now, moving forward, as a shot rang out, and he fell forward, even as his chest blossomed out. A twist of a stopwatch dial, and the scene slowed down. She kneeled a little, watched, as the imagery twisted, into the distinct reds and purples of incredible pain and anguish. The world as Alex had experienced it became distorted by that self same experience, his mixture of dying emotions and sharp injury tainting his view. As he fell, the world scattered, the colours vivid, before everything faded to gray, and the scene ended.

The death of whoever Alex had been.

Another twist, another click. The stopwatch rewound, and the scene flowed backwards, and Zoissette looked around, to see what Alex had seen. He had barely registered what was happening over by Fred, other than a surprising noise and lots of motion. He had not even glanced over at Daisy. And he never saw who shot him in the back. Alex continued to flow backwards, until he was asleep once more in his chair.

She hit the reset on the stopwatch.

“Release,” said Lavender’s voice all around her, somber, and the scene rapidly shifted into purple mist that quickly swept together, reforming into the shape of Lavender’s ghostly body once more. Lavender smoothed down the front of her dress, and then clasped her hands in front of her, looking at Zoissette.

“That was all there was, mistress,” she said. Zoissette just nodded. It was enough for her to feel more confident in the next part of the theory she was forming.

She walked over to where Bert’s body was. His weapon, a carbine, was not far from his hand. Decent enough weapon, kind of a compromise between the quick handling of a pistol and the long distance accuracy of a rifle. He was facing Daisy, whose body was not very far away from his.

“This man,” she said, pointing, and Lavender drifted over to be closer. Zoissette pointed at Fred. “Startled by the same noise that woke up the man who was shot in the back, who I am calling Alex. He probably started to aim over by whatever got that man over there, but when Alex got up, he was jumpy enough to pull the trigger.” She looked over to the building where Daisy seemed to have come from. “I think he lost sight of who he was aiming at, until they appeared on top of that building there. Fired, more careful this time, trying not to hit his friend. And then… hmn.”

She did not want to speculate on Daisy, not yet. She looked over at Lavender, who nodded, and closed her eyes once more, concentrating.

“RESONANCE”

A new scene to work with, as the hands on the stopwatch did not settle. Zoissette watched as the world went wild for a bit, Lavender searching through time, trying to decide on when to anchor. At last, she made her decision, and Bert appeared, leaning against the wall of the same building where Caleb’s body was.

There was no Caleb yet in this vision, however. The stopwatch hands stopped. Zoissette clicked the top of the stopwatch, and the scene began to flow forward. Bert just leaning against the building, minding his own business, when a loud thud and a muffled scream rang out. Zoissette glanced. Fred, she could see clearly now. Bert must have known him okay. Whatever it was that killed Fred was still little more than an indistinct blob, flowing from the sky onto him, shoving him to the ground.

Fred and blob went indistinct as Bert unholstered his rifle and ran forward. Startled as he was, his memory got fuzzy here, probably as he tried to regain his bearings, to reorient himself into this new world with this dangerous new threat. He had his rifle up, trying to aim, and the distance focused a little bit for him. He was using a scope. The building across the way became startling clear, before suddenly half the central area filled with a pattern, and a shot rang out.

Zoissette looked over. Ah. The pattern matched Alex’s shirt. The pattern fell away, revealing the entire area once more. The world shifted, dark jagged spikes of color, horror at what he had done. Alex was now crystal clear to Bert, falling forward into the dirt.

Across the way, the blur that had assaulted Fred vanished, and Bert was now looking for it, frantic. There was shouting from behind him, from the building he had been leaning on, but he did not look towards it. He had his rifle up, was hunting in the dark.

And then, there. Over by Daisy. Daisy had her weapon out, and was pointing upwards, yelling something Bert could not decipher. But Bert understood. That horrible shadowy thing was back, it was on the roof, it was a swirl of teal with something sharp sticking out of it. Bert did not use the scope again, just firing, trying to hit it, trying not to hit Daisy, but it was too fast, and it came down, and Daisy was down.

Bert raised his rifle. The thing skewered Daisy, and it was tall, horrifically tall, yet somehow it managed to crouch and hide itself behind Daisy. And now it was moving quickly towards Bert, Daisy in front of it.

Zoissette got close to the barrel of Bert’s rifle. It was shaking terribly. She glanced over at his eyes, and saw the terror he remembered having. She looked back to the rapidly approaching Daisy, some sort of long stick through her.

And then Daisy flew at Bert, some kind of horrible wraith, arms waving, and he screamed, and then his neck blossomed outward. The scene became red, staining everything.

He died faster than Alex, the colors going all to grey before his body even hit the ground. Panicked as he was, he never got a clear sight of what it was that had killed him.

Zoissette clicked the stopwatch, and rewound slowly. No good. Bert’s entire attention had been consumed by Daisy’s back, rapidly approaching him. Presumably his friend. After accidentally shooting Alex, he probably could only think of not shooting another person he knew, another friend.

Speculation, of course. He was dead, now. And there was nothing more Zoissette could get from this particular vision. She watched it again, just to be sure, being very careful, trying to glean any identity of the attacker, but nothing.

Another click, and the stopwatch was reset again, the vision fading from the world, and Lavender reforming once more.

“Any luck, mistress?” asked Lavender.

Zoissette looked around, looking at Daisy, at Caleb. Two more bodies she could look at. And looking over, slowly, at last, to Ellen.

She had a hunch. Best to eliminate the other options, though.

Caleb would be useless. She could guess his story. Probably came out after Bert died, and the attacker probably got him almost immediately. From what little she had seen, Zoissette suspected the killer was using a spear of some sort. Possibly someone from the garrison, many of them adopted the spear as their weapon. And from the way the attacker could close largish distances, the way they attacked from the air. A cloudstriker?

But why only one, if they were from the garrison?

Either way, she didn’t need to peek into the afterimage of Caleb’s memories. Caleb came out from the building, and was almost immediately pinned to the wall by a stab from the ground, by someone powerful. Probably died almost immediately. The killer would have skewered him, made sure he was dead, then pulled their weapon out and just let him slump to the ground in place. There was nothing new to learn from there, Zoissette suspected.

That left Daisy. Who Zoissette hoped may have actually seen something. Though maybe not. All of these scenes had happened at night, and the building Daisy had started closest to was not very close to the campfire.

Still though, she walked on over, Lavender floating along behind her. Might as well continue to build her case.

“This woman heard the commotion and drew her firearm. If whatever happened over there,” and at this Zoissette gestured at where Fred was, “Did not gain her attention, the initial shot being fired certainly did. Quickly understanding the situation, she tried to look for the attacker, and managed to catch sight of them as they landed on the roof. However, her weapon, a rifle, is not well suited to fast movements or rapid fire. Took too long to bring it to bear. The attacker landed, hit her once, disabling her, and then while she was off balance, stuck their spear - probably a spear - into her, and used her as a body shield to approach their next target.”

Again, Lavender concentrated on Zoissette’s words, connecting the idea of what may have happened, and meeting the reality of what had actually happened halfway. If it was accurate enough, if the half picture formed was close enough, then Lavender could finish reaching across the gap, and achieve-

“RESONANCE,” she intoned, two voices, commanding, powerful, as before.

The scene played out more or less as Zoissette had described. And unfortunately, she was right about the distance to the campfire. Daisy never got a good look at her attacker. Not enough to identify them. But it was enough to almost finish forming the picture.

They were tall. They were clad in a longcoat of some sort, dark bluish green or teal, perhaps. The flicker of light from the campfire played with the shadows where their face should have been, where their body would have been, so to Daisy, they appeared to be almost some kind of flowing wraith. They were tall, taller than almost anyone Zoissette had ever seen. How much of that was real and how much of that was exaggerated from emotionally charged energy, Zoissette could not guess, but it matched all other evidence. They were big. And they were fast.

And all Daisy could focus on was their weapon. That long, heavy spear. Pointed, bladed tip. Its steel glinted in campfire and moonlight. Its staff, a demon pole, dark and foreboding.

And Daisy watched it even as shots went wide around her, chipping into the building. As the attacker swept forward, too fast, avoiding them all. As that terrible weapon came down, pointed, and she dropped her rifle as her shoulder fissured and exploded in the vision, seeming to unspool outward.

And the last thing she ever saw, as the vision faded, as the world shrank down to a single small spot in front of her, was that weapon through her midsection, and everything went gray to black.

Zoissette only rewound with the stopwatch a little, studying the movement of the attacker as best as she could from Daisy’s recollection. Moved like quicksilver across the rooftop. A monster of a person.

She reset the stopwatch.

“Release,” said Lavender, the image collapsing to reform into her.

“Three,” said Zoissette, as she turned to look at the last person that could help. Lavender followed as she crossed the camp, walking over to where Ellen’s body lay.

Easy enough to trace what had happened. Ellen had come from the same building where Fred and Gladys had met their demise. Looking at tracks in the sand and the dirt, Zoissette suspected she had not been alone. But close to the campfire, the two trails separated. One moved off, and judging from where the trail went and how they shuffled their feet, they were trying to keep a low profile.

Not Ellen, though. Ellen had made herself obvious.

She had circled the campfire a bit. Staying close to it. She would have been brightly lit by its flames, and Zoissette could well imagine the attacker on the other side of it.

Sizing up her quarry, before they met.

Zoissette pulled out the stopwatch, and told the tale as she understood it to Lavender, and Lavender reached out to dead history.

“RESONANCE,” she said.

~*~

Ellen was not her name. Viper was not her name, either, but it was what she was, a Viperfang. And the rest of the gang apparently preferred to call her that.

They were all like that. Handles. Nothing real, no real names. They weren’t friends, not as a group. They just had a talent for violence and a desire for money. Her only real friend was a Hrothgar sitting across from her, her eastpaw. He knew her name. She knew his. He handled planning, logistics, cooking.

She handled violence.

However, his cooking was what mattered right now. It was late. Dinner, then bed. Easy day today. They’d had a big hit recently, relieved some courier convoy of its goods, and now they were laying low for a bit before moving on.

There was a soft thud on the side of the building she was staying in. Her and East - another stupid handle from this stupid gang - looked up. When nothing else happened, they went back to eating.

Viper was not sure she’d move on with them. Oh, she’d move on, alright. Some other outfit out here was taking care of the nastier sort of monster you were like to find in the brush, so her skills weren’t being put to use the way she’d like. Roughing up people for money was a means to an end, but she’d rather get paid to hunt monsters.

Nobody got mad about dead monsters.

East had liked the prospect of easy money for easier targets, and it had been easy enough, though, she supposed.

She’d talk to him before bed.

There was a scream out front. Well, kind of a yell, and a thud.

Viper was in motion immediately, reaching for her knives. East was right with her. He was not as good in a fight as she was, but he had his pistol… sword… thing. Some new toy from the city. He was strong, it was powerful, it worked out.

A shot rang out, loud, outside, but entirely too close. She was walking into a mess. Instead of barging out the door, she slipped out it carefully, making sure East was quiet as well.

The man who was supposed to be on watch was dead. Right in front of her. Across the way, another man was dead, next to the campfire. That twitchy idiot she’d never liked was waving his gun around excitedly. Her eyes followed where he was pointing, and she found what she was looking for.

On the roof. The attacker, dropping, throat chopping with her spear before stabbing her latest victim.

How had they killed so many so fast.

Viper knew what had to happen.

“East, stick to the shadows, and get out of here, fast as you can go. Head for the canyons.”

East looked at her. He always looked a little sad to her. Like a cat that’d gotten perpetually lost in a river, and the way his eyes went wide and wet were not helping.

“Go,” she hissed, pushing him. He was always a bit of a pushover. He went.

Viper sized up her prey. Watched as they effortlessly closed distance. Watched how they applied power. Some woman of some sort. Tall, taller than Viper, which was unusual. Viper was taller than most. Thicker, too.

A sister, perhaps. Lost, if so. But no, too tall even for that. And the wrong color, for that matter. Skin slate, in flickering camp light.

Viper walked closer to the bonfire. Making herself obvious. She twirled her swords in her hands, making sure to catch the light of the fire, to catch the eye, to distract.

A standoff. Viper, unlike most of the gang, had no rifle, no bow, no crossbow, nothing to fight at a distance.

But the woman had only a spear, it seemed. She stood up straight, and she almost casually whipped her head around, her long hair trailing in the motion, a comet of a mane.

The two circled each other on either side of the campfire, sizing each other up. It was all either of them had. The entire world was just them, now.

Everyone else was dead.

Well, almost everyone, but Viper hoped only she knew about that.

They stopped, in that split before the moment was joined. Viper tensed, waiting for either the throw or the charge, and the other woman’s stance shifted, low, ready.

Viper almost did not move out of the way in time.

She was fast, whoever she was. Far faster than she had any right to be, and as Viper stepped out of the way, she blocked with one sword, to redirect the spear away from her, and brought the other sword over her head, for her counterattack.

As the woman passed, they were face to face for the tiniest fraction of a second, and in that sliver of time, Viper saw.

Viper saw a broad nose. And two eyes, pupils tiny, irises tight, and in that hollow, the reflection of being recognized.

The hunter and the monster truly saw one another.

It was a truism of her training that a hunter had to maintain absolute singular focus. But she was worrying about making sure East got clear, trying to survive herself, and trying to figure out how to defeat this monster, too much on her mind.

This monster, however, was a predator. She had identified the hunter, and now she was hungry. There was only one thing that Viper saw in those deep ocean swell eyes.

The kill.

~*~

Zoissette watched as the fight played out. She analyzed Ellen’s movements. The woman was strong, fast, more than capable, as she blocked or parried various thrusts and repeatedly got inside the guard of the spearwoman. They traded hits and made passes at each other, long leaps and short hops.

But through it all, Zoissette could not help but get the niggling feeling that Ellen was distracted, somehow. Stalling, perhaps. Stalling, almost certainly. Too much.

The last pieces of the puzzle fell together, as Ellen fell into the dirt, and the memory ended. She clicked the top of the stopwatch, and set it to slowly rewinding.

As it did so, she reviewed the scene. She felt she had all the pieces, now. The spearwoman had come in, and managed to kill one person, Gladys, without being noticed. Went to the roof of that building most likely, dropped down, killed Fred and alerted the camp. Alex woke up, startled Bert, and Bert accidentally shot Alex in the back. The attacker would have gone to the shadows to make her way to another building, got on top of it, spotted by Daisy, then dropped on Daisy, killing her. Used Daisy’s body as a shield on the end of her spear to charge Bert, practically shoved Daisy at Bert, and while he was distracted, chopped him down. Caleb came out at that point, but never had a chance. The woman’s speed meant he was dead probably before he even knew what was going on.

And Ellen had watched most of that. Sent the eighth person away, and stayed to cover that person’s retreat.

She put up a good fight.

Not good enough.

Zoissette turned back to the recreation, and halted the stopwatch at the moment where Ellen had gotten the best look at the attacker. They had been the only person to see the attacker for any length of time, and also the only person who had seen her up close. And in that first pass, before their fight had gotten going in earnest, was possibly the best chance to get a clear picture of who it was.

Zoissette approached the scene, and peered over Ellen’s shoulder.

“Unexpected,” said Zoissette, surprised. “But then, that is why we do not make assumptions, I suppose.”

The proprietor of the Saltlick. Frequent employer of Zoissette. A Roegadyn woman, unusual out here, but not rare. Slate blue-gray skin, blue eyes, purple hair with green highlights flowing behind her as she moved. She was usually dressed as a lady of the night might be.

Well, out here, Zoissette supposed she still was a lady of the night, just of a different sort. A longcoat, clearly better suited to her current nighttime activities. A spear, beautifully made, and deadly.

“Mz. Gohtawyn, I presume,” said Zoissette, and she reset the stopwatch.

“Release,” said Lavender as she reformed.

“Par four,” said Zoissette, satisfied.

“I am pleased on your behalf, mistress,” said Lavender, smiling. Her smile quickly faded, however, as she focused on something behind Zoissette.

“Mistress, jump left!”

~*~

The night had gone on rather longer than Klynt had anticipated.

Mind, there was no set time table to these sorts of things, other than to begin after the sun had gone down, and to be done with her grisly task, including its aftermath, before it rose again. This night had begun like many of her other hunts, and ended in a chase after the last of her quarry. She had caught up with him, though, and his body was now slung over her shoulder as she brought it back to the bandit camp.

The night had come with a few pleasant surprises. She could still taste the tang of sweat and blood in the air from her only real challenge of the night, and it invigorated her, helping drive her forward.

Now she just had to set the bodies just so, and she could go back to the Saltlick, and sleep off her exhaustion while K’ayala tended to her injuries. A sweet reward to a necessary task. She was looking forward to it.

As she drew close, however, she swore. There was someone else in the camp, now, apparently wandering around, looking at her handiwork. She became careful in her approach, dropping the body off behind a building where it could not be seen, and moving from shadow to shadow, growing closer to the intruder.

When she saw who it was, she swore again, in her thoughts.

Zoissette.

What the hells was Zoissette doing out here.

Perhaps she could leave this alone. Stay hidden, until Zoissette satisfied her curiosity, or whatever it was that had her out there, and headed back to town. There was no possible way Zoissette would know what had happened or who had done it or why, and no reason for the woman to stick around. Soon as she was gone, Klynt could finish her task, and get gone herself.

She leaned back against a building, and rested her head against it.

And then, she heard Zoissette speak.

“Mz. Gohtawyn, I presume.”

Klynt ground her teeth. There was no possible way that Zoissette could have possibly seen her coming. She stuck her head out to see.

Zoissette was talking to herself about something. And whatever else she was up to, she had not, in fact, seen Klynt. Couldn’t have. She was facing the wrong way, for one, and was now looking across the camp, looking in the opposite direction, and giving no indication whatsoever that she had seen or heard Klynt approach.

And yet, somehow, just now, Klynt was certain Zoissette had somehow figured out that this was her work.

Klynt felt torn. No survivors and no witnesses was her method. It kept her and hers safe, and kept the Dustwatch from putting her face on a most wanted poster.

But Zoissette was useful, dammit. The woman was reliable. Could keep her mouth shut and her cargo safe on courier runs. She’d helped Sebastian. She’d helped Riven. The working girls and boys had warmed up to her. She was handy around the town, bringing lots of little modern conveniences to the people, never charging overmuch for her talents.

To say nothing of the difficulty of what to do with her body. A gang of dust bandits would not be missed. Zoissette, on the other hand.

Klynt made the call. Put the fear of the spirits into her, secure her silence, and that would just have to be enough.

She stepped out, and drew her spear out, and aimed to strike right next to her. A powerful opening move, and one that would give her the upper hand. She pulled her hand back, crouched, and after a moment, rocketed forward.

Zoissette leapt to the side. It was unnecessary, as Klynt was not going to hit her, but somehow she knew the attack was coming, and got herself well clear. Klynt was not in the business of second guessing herself, but she felt a surge of uncertainty. It seemed that Zoissette had started moving just a split second before Klynt had released her leap.

Kind of killed the effect a bit, but she was committed now. Her spear slammed into the dirt, digging a gouge and kicking up rock and dust.

“Heavens,” said Zoissette, adjusting her glasses. “Well! Good evening, Mz. Gohtawyn. You certainly have a way of making an entrance.”

Klynt stood up, standing tall, towering over the elf, and grinning down at her, all sharp teeth and false friendliness.

“Hello, Lady Vauban,” she said with faux cheerfulness. “Fancy seeing you out here. You should consider yourself lucky, you know.” She dropped her voice. “I haven’t allowed too many folk to see my hair down and live to tell the tale. Certainly not these seven.”

Zoissette sniffed at her, wrinkling her nose. “Well, I am far from qualified to comment on fashion, and have no opinion on your personal grooming choices,” she said. She began to turn, but then stopped, thinking. “Ah. That was a threat.”

No shit it was a threat, thought Klynt.

“Who are you going to tell about this?” growled Klynt.

“I was not planning on telling anyone unless asked,” said Zoissette. “This is hardly a matter of scientific interest, and I am sure you have noticed by now I am no great conversationalist.”

Klynt could not possibly agree more with that last statement just now.

“How much for you to not tell anyone about this?” she asked, feeling an edge of exasperation. She had to get control of this situation, and this conversation.

“How much?” said Zoissette, considering. She clasped her hands behind her back, and turned to face Klynt, tilting her head curiously. “How much?” she repeated. “Interesting. The cost is simply asking me not to.”

“…I am asking you not to.”

“Then I give you my word, I shall not tell anyone that you killed these people,” said Zoissette.

“…that’s all it takes?” Klynt felt skeptical.

“That is all that it will take,” said Zoissette. After a moment, she reached up, and took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes a bit before continuing.

“Consider, if I were to take money for such guarantees. A tidy way to make a profit, but you would be left wondering if I had the sort of honor where once paid, I would consider such contract to be sacrosanct. Or if I was a more mercenary type, who could simply be bought for the highest bidder. I could live my nights, wondering when I would become too much trouble to be suffered to live. Or you would always be left to wonder.”

She shook her head. “But my word? It is either sacrosanct, or it is not. It either has value, or is worthless. Think. I cannot sell you out, after all, if nothing has been sold. So either you take me at my word, and we can continue in peace. Or you do not, and resolve to make the attempt to kill me rather faster than you would have otherwise. Either way, we reach a resolution quicker, and I for one shall sleep more soundly for it.”

Klynt rolled the words over in her mind. Zoissette’s words almost made a weird kind of sense.

“…alright,” she drawled out at last. “Fine. Your word, then.”

“You already have it.”

“What are you doing out here, anyroad?”

“Hmn,” said Zoissette. “Normally I consider my business my own… but I suppose naturalist work is in the public interest. Very well. I was doing survey work. There is a canyon network near here. The locals have certain spiritual beliefs and rituals they perform, and were willing to share their wisdom with me. I wished to experience it myself, as well as create a rather better map of the area than I had been given.”

Klynt leaned on her staff. She badly wanted to get back to what she was doing, but she also wanted to be certain before sending the elf off.

“And everyone who knows that will know you’ll have to have come through here. If someone asks you about this place, what will you tell them?”

“The truth,” said Zoissette matter-of-factly, putting her glasses back on. “When I was returning from my survey, I stopped at a seemingly abandoned settlement, where I found these people already dead. Unable to do anything for them, I moved on.”

At that, Klynt decided that she was satisfied. She stood up, stretched, and shook out the last of the energy she’d been carrying through the night.

“As I have indulged your curiosity, I wonder if you might indulge mine?”

Klynt grunted.

“Why did you kill these people? Professional matter, personal grudge, family matter, possibly a business conflict?”

Klynt looked square at Zoissette, and then slowly gave her a big, predatory grin, all malice and threat.

“Vermin control.”

“Ah. I… see,” said Zoissette. “Well, thank you for indulging me. I shall not delay you any further from your work, Mz. Gohtawyn, nor myself from my bed. I shall see you on the morrow. Good night.”

“Good night, Miss Vauban.”

Zoissette wandered off into the dark, towards that weird contraption she liked to ride along in. As she got to it, however, she stopped, and turned.

“Ah, you mentioned seven, correct? There is an eighth, if you wish to go looking.”

Klynt resisted the urge to startle, as Zoissette gestured in a direction, before getting on her contraption, and just riding off.

What else did Zoissette know, that she was not telling anyone?

She shook it off. Baffling woman, but, in a way, it was comforting to know how close she played her cards to her chest. No, Klynt would take her at her word, and she could continue to be useful to Stonewood, and Klynt could continue doing what needed to be done.

She waited until Zoissette was well gone, before continuing her work. Before finishing  gathering the bodies, to lay them out neatly in a line near a town. That and a few other grim reminders to others that while life in the desert could be harsh, and so easily lost, that what happened to this camp was no accident.

There was a predator in the wastes, and it was more than willing, more than capable, of culling those who crossed it.

Eight bodies to underline a point.

Death to vermin in the wasteland.

[kiss-my-freckle]

Full Episode Commentary

2x3: Bad Moon Rising

Alaric gets invited over to the Salvatore boarding house. Damon wants to get intel on the Lockwoods to find out what they are, while Elena wants to get intel on Katherine to understand why they look exactly alike. They discuss the reasons they think the Lockwoods are supernatural. In 1x22, Damon knows the Gilbert device affected Mayor Lockwood. In 2x1, Bonnie knows the Gilbert device affected Tyler Lookwood. And in 2x2, Damon's little fight experiment revealed Mason Lockwood. So yeah, Damon gets busy with his investigation. Alaric offers to take them because, like Damon, he feels the need to help protect Mystic Falls. Knowledge gives them that power. Not only knowing what they are, but what to expect and how to deal. While they discuss the Lockwoods, the writers chose to cut back and forth so you can watch their werewolves in action. Tyler is following Mason into the Lockwood cellar.

I love this scene with Caroline because it's pretty, but it's also another difference. It probably would've been better not to keep Vicki locked up at the Salvatore boarding house for an entire day. Her humanity was just as important as Caroline's is. Logan was already dead when Vicki fed on him to complete her transition. She hadn't even killed anyone, but got treated poorly in comparison… to Caroline, who had just killed someone at the carnival. Clear to me it's whatever suits their needs at any given time. This episode pulls the Vicki parallels full circle. I know what fans are gonna say. Bonnie wasn't in the know, so Vicki couldn't have a daylight ring. I don't wanna hear it. She was kept from night to night at the boarding house. Stefan didn't even wanna take her out at night, and he wonders why Vicki wanted to take off?

Stefan and Elena talk about how they're spending their days. Stefan will be staying behind to train Caroline. Elena will be going to Isobel's office with Alaric and Damon. An interesting set-up, considering Elena is in Damon-hating mode. "It's okay that I'm going, right?" I suppose if you're dating an extremely jealous and possessive guy, this question would be typical. I consider it insane. I think it's cute that Elena believes Alaric is in Damon-hating mode. Alaric isn't currently hating, but he understands where she's coming from. "Look, I'm not gonna let the fact that Damon is going keep you from an opportunity to get some answers." Stefan being jealous even while Elena is in Damon-hating mode. That speaks volumes. He literally admits to hating Elena going to Duke with Damon… like wow lol. "Sorry you can't come too, Stef. Oh, I'll take really good care of her." I'm pretty sure Damon overheard their conversation because as soon as they start to leave, he plays on Stefan's jealousy. If you've gotta kiss your man in front of the other man to quiet his jealousy, there's a problem. But yeah… she knows Damon is purposefully making Stefan jealous. This trio is hilarious af.

Tyler is all brawn and no brain. He asks his mother about the freaky underground cellar. Mason walks in and asks what they're talking about. Oh… they're just talking about the old slave days, and Tyler thinks it's a great place to host a party. "Listen, every day that she's cut off from her old life - from you, from Elena, from Matt, it'll make it that much harder for her to hold on to her humanity." So here's another difference for me to complain about because they've made it pretty clear. Stefan is talking about how Caroline needs to be near her boyfriend to hold onto her humanity, but with Vicki, he straight-up told Elena that she couldn't be around Jeremy. I suppose because Vicki wasn't Elena's childhood friend, Stefan didn't feel the need to be just as courteous. "But if we don't do everything we can to help her or at least trust the fact that she can keep it together, we might as well just stake her right now." btw, this is exactly what Stefan did to Vicki.

Bonnie is actually thinking about denying her best friend access to sunlight, and because she's thinking about denying her, she lies to Stefan about her inability to make daylight rings.

She had to use her little head trick to stop Stefan from devouring Amber in 1x19, and she's gonna trust him over her childhood friend all because Caroline devoured the guy she was crushing on. What? lol... And people wonder why I think Damon's friendships are better. They pull their scene cut from Stefan and Bonnie to Damon and Elena. "I don't think she's pretending. You did kill her brother." lol… Alaric knows what's up. Elena isn't pretending to hate Damon, she truly hates Damon. "Elena, I saw the ring! It's a big tacky thing. Hard to miss." Damon wants the quick, easy fix because he misses Elena, but friendships don't work that way. He has to know what it feels like without her… and he definitely has to own his shit if he's gonna change. Alaric and Elena were supposed to bond in their anti-Damon solidarity, but she's sitting in the backseat while Damon is riding shotgun.

"So, I don't get to choose the ring I have to wear the rest of my life?" lol! If Caroline had it her way, Bonnie would've spelled an entire line just so she'd have something to go with every outfit. I like how they dolled up her face when they've got her spending the day with Stefan. Just look at her, she's gorgeous. So anyway… Jeremy's Gilbert ring is written alongside Caroline's daylight ring because the episode is pretty much all about Damon's and Caroline's humanity. "I can't ignore what happened, okay? If you want to be friends, you have to prove that the Caroline I remember isn't gone." Bonnie will have to accept the fact that people will die from time to time because Caroline is a vampire and vampires do eat people. It's an insane conflict, the vampirism-humanity combo. If it weren't, it wouldn't be a curse.

I love Alaric in this episode. He's given the opportunity to share things with Elena about her biological mother. This office at Duke is human Isobel, and it's where her obsession with vampires took root. I really like this filming set. It has all the right vibes and the lighting is spot-on. I can almost smell the place. Alaric lies to Isobel's old student, claiming there was no news about her death/disappearance. No need to involve her in vampire business… or so he thinks. I love the fact that Elena's hate doesn't twist her. She still cares a great deal about Damon, and it shows. Alaric is hot on keeping everyone safe, so he's got this chick slammed against the wall. Damon takes an arrow to the back, and I swear it's instinctive for Elena. Sorry, but that care isn't gonna go away just because you're in hating mode. This scene looks so much like Klaus and Caroline and the white oak stake. Damon acts like a tiger with a thorn stuck in its paw. Get it out, Elena. It hurts.

"You touch her, and I swear I will never speak to you again." Elena tries to manipulate Damon. This is what you call emotional blackmail. She's basically threatening him with the silent treatment. "Right. I forgot that I was speaking to a psychotic mind who snaps and kills people impulsively. Fine, go ahead, do whatever you want." This is Elena's second attempt to manipulate. This is a great episode to watch because manipulation is one of the key ways in which these characters control each other. I consider Stefan their master manipulator because he's that damn good at it. Katherine uses the same manipulation tactics on Damon, so I'm telling you that Elena is acting like Katherine in this episode. You just have to know how to manipulate a rebel. So what you get is Elena manipulating Damon into sparing Vanessa… and Katherine manipulating Damon into daggering Elijah. Even in Elena's hate for Damon, he's pushing her in ways that he's got her acting like Katherine… and they've only just started the second season lol. It takes a vampire to create a vampire, and Damon has aleady begun to define Elena… so you get a pretty good idea how Katherine defined Damon. Delena in this episode is one of the greatest things ever. Damon knows she's totally capable, and Elena wants to pretend like she didn't just try to manipulate him. Damon has already given Elena his worst when he snapped Jeremy's neck. In hate, there's only one direction they can go. And when they get there, it's gonna take more than an attempt to kill Jeremy to get Elena back to Damon-hating mode. So compel him to kill Jeremy all you like. She gets this side of Damon early on because 1864 Damon is written alongside the Ripper.

"Please! I freaked out, okay? Alright, you would have done the same thing, it's not possible! Katherine Pierce can't be alive and Damon Salvatore died in 1864. Okay? I read Isobel's research." I love listening to her flip out. Vanessa is… much more freaked out than Elena was. You mean vampires exist? omgz

Caroline: Isn't killing cute defenseless animals the first step in becoming a serial killer? Stefan: Well, you sort of skipped the serial killer and went straight to vampire.

This is as real as it gets. Vampirism is three easy steps and Caroline completed them. If I were Caroline, I'd be just as bored hunting for rabbits. Vampires crave human blood. Girl will have to hit the hospital on the way home just to pick up some blood bags. If Stefan weren't a ripper, he wouldn't be so bent to train everyone on animals. I consider his diet training self-serving. Stefan would rather have everyone on animal blood than have someone train him to moderate his human blood intake. Training a vampire on the animal blood diet is what I call nurturing a ripper. It's not nature or nurture, it's nature and nurture. Caroline will nearly kill Matt and Elena will nearly kill Matt, and both will do it for the same reason Vicki nearly killed Jeremy. And really… if Elena's gonna be a vampire, she might as well have the strength that comes with it. Why you gonna train her to fight Connor, but not allow her the strength to beat him. Everyone knows Stefan is a weak bitch on animal blood. Power differential. That's another reason why I love Delena. They're equals. imo, I don't think Stefan knows love as Damon knows love until he falls in love with Caroline. They have something that none of Stefan's other ships have. Depth.

Stefan: When someone becomes a vampire, all of their natural behaviors get sort of... amplified. Caroline: What do you mean? Stefan: I mean… as a human, I cared deeply for people, how they felt. If they were hurting, I felt their pain, and I felt guilty if I was the one who caused it. And as a vampire, all of that got… magnified. Caroline: So you're saying that now I'm basically an insecure, neurotic control freak… on crack?

lmao! I wish Caroline was more like this. But you know… this is the difference between Damon and other vampires. "That" Damon didn't magnify. He died when he died. If Stefan really wants to know what it's like for Damon to wait for Katherine for 145 years just to find out she was never in the tomb… best Elena resurrect Damon, then let Stefan see that side of him for the first time in 145 years. I mean… as sweet as it is for Damon to tell Elena she should've met him in 1864 beause she would've liked him… he's also telling her his truth. He didn't magnify, he died. "Hey, listen… let's hunt, okay? And then after that, we'll go to the swimming hole." This is what compromise looks like, and it's one of the reasons I love Delena's sire bond. Stefan gets what he wants and Caroline gets what she wants. Damon says, "it's not my way, it's the only way" because he gets what he wants and Elena gets what she wants. So yes, if Elena wants to save Matt, then she'll have to become a vampire. I think that's a great compromise. It didn't take me long to realize Damon was talking about Stefan when he said Edward is so whipped. "Matt is the closest connection that you have to your humanity, and I think that being around him is a good thing." Dating or not, this is why Damon needs Elena in his life, and Damon knows it. It's also the reason I hate Stefan much of the time.

Vanessa: This box checks Katherine's arrival to Mystic Falls in April 1864. Elena: Is that all there is about her? Vanessa: All that I'm aware of. Elena: Here, take this. Vanessa: Does vervain really work?

I love how Vanessa pulls a box full of stuff from 1864, then Elena immediately hands her vervain because of Damon. You can literally hear him say the words now… You should've met me in 1864. "This box checks Katherine's arrival to Mystic Falls in April 1864." I mean, literally… 2x22 sits right here in this scene. "But he is very capable of being a first rate jackass." I like how they cut scene here. Old Elena, meet new Elena. She's fun and exciting and madly in love with Damon. So they cut scene to this water hole… and as I was talking about before, Tyler's emotions are magnified to such an extent, as if they're pushing him to transition to werewolf. That's why he's talking about Aimee Bradley's ass getting hot. "You know, if you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask." They scene cut Damon and Tyler a lot in their humanity scenes because they're written similar that way. Mason tells Tyler to move the party by dark. Clear that it's a full moon and he's planning to turn. "Why are you looking at him with your serious vampire look? I mean, it's different from your worried vampire look, neither of which stray too far from your hey-it's-Tuesday look." Easier for someone to read you when you're not dating them. Love can be blinding, right, Elena?

"Well, I wasn't gonna say it like that but…" "I mean, I was not gonna say it like that but…"

They're already writing Steroline like Stelena. So Matt's gonna be just fine having Aimee flirt with him all because Caroline didn't answer his calls. Jealousy leads to manipulation. Messing with someone's mind doesn't require compulsion, that's where Stefan and Caroline differ. This is where I introduce you to their 3x14 parallel. If you wanna know why Rebekah hangs Damon up in animal traps in 3x18, you have to follow the parallel...

"Nobody deserves to have their mind messed with for shallow reasons. You're letting the jealousy get the best of you." Aimee Bradley wanted to hook up with Matt, then because of Caroline, she hooked up with Tyler. It's all relative to the issue of jealousy and how they manipulate each other. It's insane to me how much fun Stefan has when he's not with Elena.

"Ah, man. You know, it's a bummer we're not friends anymore because I could tell you what I know." Damon is now manipulating Elena. Similarly, he's using emtional blackmail. He knows she's looking for answers about why she looks exactly like Katherine. Vanessa introduces the curse of the sun and the moon.

Elena finds a photo of Katherine, dated 1864 because that's when she arrived in Mystic Falls. Elena starts asking Vanessa if she's done any research on doppelgangers. "Well, if I know anything, I'm not gonna tell you. Not with that attitude." Damon is desperate, that's why Alaric responds the way he does.

"Legend has it that a werewolf bite is fatal to vampires." Fear is a great driving force. Pull in someone that Damon doesn't know, doesn't understand, and doesn't trust. He's gonna kill this man. It'll take him the entire season to deal, yeah. Vanessa just put Mason on Damon's kill list. I love Stefan's response when he finds out. He's like… omg, Caroline. Mason is chaining himself up because he's about to turn. Tyler takes Aimee into the cellar for the sake of making out with her, so Mason is forced to turn in his vehicle. Tyler is so gross. I can't believe he took Aimee down there when his mother already told him, like wtf.

"Friends don't manipulate friends, they help each other." Because Elena strings him along, Damon will compare her to Katherine. Yes, that's exactly what she's doing to him here, she's stringing him along. You'll also notice that some of this stuff repeats as they shift Delena from friendship to romance. That's why she talks about stringing both brothers along in 3x22. "I don't know, but I'm not even sure why I was flirting with you. I like Matt." Damon's parallel to Aimee sits in 3x15. He doesn't want Rebekah to make a big deal of them sleeping together because he's in love with Elena. Probably a good idea to watch Aimee in 2x3… then imagine Damon playing Rebekah one more time for the sake of getting in her head.

Wow, Stefan is an idiot. You hear growling, and you're just gonna walk up to Mason's car like… hey, I know you're a werewolf, but can we be freinds? lol what? They put Mason in the same position as Logan. In situations like this, Damon's hate for Stefan gets shoved aside and his natural instinct kicks in. He's not gonna give you a second shot at his brother. Mason is a dead man. Yep, Stefan's gotta be that one person... that one person in horror films that runs towards the danger acting like they have no idea. Like did you not hear that growl. This isn't a dog you can eat, Stefan. Mason smashes through his rear window and knocks Stefan on his ass. He needs to go find Caroline and get to moving, seriously.

"Listen, you don't want to get caught up in this. Really, it'll take over and will keep from being able to live your life. Isobel became her research." Sexy Vanessa is hitting on Alaric. Not a coincidence that Jenna ends up becoming a vampire. He's warning Vanessa, yet dating Jenna. I mean, it's insane that Isobel's student knows about vampires, but Jenna has to learn about it last minute... and right before her death. This scene by the car is gorgeous. "Petrova was her real name. Katerina Petrova to be exact. Back when, I saw it engraved on an old heirloom. Men snoop too, you know." The beauty of 1864 Damon that shines through as he snoops through Elena's bedroom and reads Stefan's journals.

Caroline is making out with Matt, suffering the same issue Vicki did with Jeremy. She's been snacking on bunnies all day, so I'm sure Matt's blood smells pretty tasty right now. These are their final Vicki parallels. Stefan is ripping Caroline off Matt. Like why couldn't he do this with Vicki, just rip her off Elena and snap her neck rather than stake her. So rather than Vicki compelling Jeremy as Caroline compels Matt… Damon's gonna have to compel Jeremy because Stefan killed Vicki. Yes, that's me being real. They show Stefan's capabilities as he stops Caroline. And damn, she's tearing into Matt like unbelievably well.

Stefan and Caroline are doing their vamp-speed through the woods, trying to escape Mason. Damon and Elena and Alaric are running from Ray in season 3. You can see how season 2 shifts to season 3 while watching this episode. "It's a werewolf! He will try to kill us and he can!" I think they're pretty damn lucky that Tyler is still there. Like wow. It's insane to me how much power Tyler has over Mason while he's transitioned during the full moon.

Caroline: I shouldn't be with him, should I? Because if there is any danger… Stefan: I'm the last person to make that kind of decision for you. If I had follow my own advice, I would walked away from Elena a long time ago. Caroline: You ever think you should have? Stefan: I know I should have, I just can't.

Speaking of letting Elena go. Damon and Stefan are different with their selfishness. Stefan knows that he should've walked away from Elena, but he's not selfless enough to let her go. Letting her go requires death… either her death or his. Damon is different in that regard. Tyler catches up to Mason's vehicle, sees the smashed out window. Mason walks up behind him, and it's clear he's naked because he turned. He's like... hand me my clothes, man. I liked Tyler's storyline in the beginning, but he starts to bore me because I honestly hate werewolves. But I do like this scene between him and Mason because he finally learns the truth of what they are.

Caroline pushes Matt to break up with her. This is her way of letting him go. If you want that parallel for Elena, hit 4x6, only it's a reverse parallel. She wants Stefan to break up with her because she wants Damon. This is how they should've left Matt and Caroline, but no… they had to go and ruin it.

I love how they cut scene at the end of the episode. The only way for me to explain them is like this… Matt and Caroline are having a romantic breakup. Damon and Elena are having a friendship breakup. Centered between them is the beauty of their direction… Alaric and Jenna. "I should have done that this morning." So you combine Alaric's dialogue with Stefan's dialogue. "Just make the trade. Me for Jenna." Now add in the previous dialogue I spoke about. "Listen, you don't want to get caught up in this. Really, it'll take over and will keep from being able to live your life. Isobel became her research." Jenna should know about vampires, but she won't until it's time for her to become one... but Isobel's student gets the full scoop.

Ashes and Wine is a great soundtrack, and I'm insanely impressed with this porch scene. What Damon should've said but didn't, what he should've done but didn't. In love with both women but lost both women. Damon could've continued with his quick, easy fix. I would've given up on his character had he lied to Elena in this scene. It's the honesty that not only keeps me, but glues me. He put her need for the truth above his need to have her in his life… and she asked him, all-knowing that he would give her the truth because that's how real they are. It's because that's how real they are that Damon can't let her walk away. "You and Katherine have a lot more in common than just your looks." As hard as it is for Elena to swallow, Damon is being honest here. She strung him along. Whether she accepts that harsh reality or not is on her. It's also crazy what Elena says in season 3 because this is the moment Damon realizes he has to change. I mean... forget about dating Elena. He's choosing to change just to be around her, to have her in his life.

I don't like Katherine, but she offers a nice change of pace in season 2. She stops in to see Caroline, and I'm like… oooh, the fun begins.

[justsome-di]

The Fairest of All Stars: Chapter 13

Andy didn’t mean to become a pirate captain, but after killing the captain of her ship, she finds herself thrust into the role. Years after the incident, she is fierce and feared and recovering from a tropical fever that wiped out half her crew.

Just as they’re about to dock, they find an injured siren left behind by her choir. Andy, drawn to her, pulls her onto the ship and decides to keep her there until she recovers. But with the Navy hunting for both pirates and sirens, Andy has just made her ship an even bigger target for an iniquitous captain looking for revenge.

Warning for suicidal thoughts and violence. Will contain mature scenes.

Also available for free on Patreon (paid members are five installments ahead and will get exclusive bonus stories) and on AO3. If you enjoy reading Stars please consider leaving a comment on AO3, Patreon, or reblogging these chapters! Follow for more updates! (note: billing is actually paused for Patreon through the end of the year so new paid members cannot join until it turns back on)

Andy paced from one end of the cramped cell to the other. It took five and a half steps to hit the grimy, sweating wall.

The brig was horribly humid. Andy was soaked almost as soon as she had been pushed down the stairs. The air itself was thick, and Andy almost struggled to pull it through her mouth and down her throat to her lungs. As time dragged on, her chest became heavier and heavier and pressure in her head built until it felt like it could explode all over the walls.

While it would have been satisfying to spray Bettridge with her brain matter when he was miles away from having a proper bath, it wasn’t exactly the way she had hoped to go out.

The man sat next to her, outside her bars on a stool. He checked his pocketwatch with his good hand, his other draped across his knee. Andy pressed her face against the bars to get a better look at the scar that marked the skin between his knuckles.

Had she really done all that damage years ago? She knew that his hand wasn’t able to be used anymore, but she only knew of that through stories passed to her from acquaintances at bays. To see it for herself—she was impressed.

To cause such damage to a man made her flush with pride. She wished she could tell Syan the full story in detail now that it was all coming back to her.

She had been so young, and Bettridge loomed over her. Her arrest warrant was sitting right in front of her. She would be the first in a planned raid.

Bettridge had planned to make an example of her. She was so small, he said. 

Piracy was no profession for a woman.

He could tell she was a woman. That was the thing. It was what violated her the most. He could see how her chest curved out despite her diligently binding her breasts so tight her ribs ached. He could tell by her smooth face—quite odd that a boy at sea didn’t have even a bit of a beard.

There had been a deal, she recalled. She could go back to England with him. She could work within the Church and have all charges dropped. And then, she could work for God’s forgiveness.

Returning to religious life and, even worse, ending up in England, frightened Andy so terribly then. God had never done anything for her, really. And England was the setting of the horror stories her father had told her. The English were monsters, and her father left Ireland. They had taken his family’s faith, their land, and when he was the only one left, he fled. Changed but always holding onto some grudge.

She had been scared.

She felt for her father’s pocket knife in her jacket.

Bettridge droned on and on about her chance for rehabilitation, at the life she could live. She would make a nice wife for a nice man someday. Have children. Didn’t she want that type of life? Didn’t she want that safety?

He laid his hand on her arrest warrant. It seemed scary, he knew. But he wanted to help her. He wanted to get her out of the trouble she had gotten into.

Andy pulled out her knife without any more thoughts and didn’t hesitate for even a second before she plunged it down on Bettridge’s hand.

Bettridge jerked at first, not realizing yet that his hand was pinned to the table with Andy’s knife.

Blood welled up around the knife, spilling over the top of Bettridge’s hand and onto the scuffed, stained table. Dirty red blossomed across the arrest warrant, spreading out like how milk danced in the tea Andy’s mother used to pour for her.

Bettridge finally screamed. He finally grabbed his wrist with his good hand and barred his teeth and kicked his feet against the floor, stomping onto the wood so hard that the table rattled.

Andy ran from her room. She ran past the concerned innkeeper and then to the rest of the crew at the bar. She pounded on their backs with fists and grabbed the backs of their coats, pulling them out of the door with her.

That night Eli patted her on the back and told her she had done a good job, but all Andy could think about was how she should have grabbed the knife. Her only memory of her father was gone.

But it had trigged something wild in her. Something that made her think, at every turn, how she could stab another man. How she could possibly tear them apart with her bare hands. She questioned her own strength, her own limits. Were there any? Would the only thing that stopped her from ripping someone apart be her own mind telling her not to?

Everyone was an enemy after that. Anyone who commented on killing a man was immediately suspect. Andy stole a gun from Pinkey—he had so many in supply and always offered to show her better self-defense which annoyed Andy greatly—and kept it under her blanket at night. During the day, she kept it in her waistband.

In the tarnished mirror, she could barely recognize herself. The changes were in her eyes. In her hair. Every fiber of her had been altered, tainted, improved.

She was thankful for that wildness soon after. Eli had pressed her about why Bettridge had cornered and how much he knew. To find her specifically, to only be there to arrest her before a bigger raid—why her? Why then? What did he know?

Andy, in her feigned deep voice, said she didn’t know. She didn’t ask him questions. She stabbed him and ran.

But it was then that Eli grabbed her chest, digging his fingers into her sore breasts. He stroked his thumb over the mound she still couldn’t conceal—and she had tried binding her breasts tighter and tighter ever since Bettridge.

“You’re no boy,” Eli had said.

He reached for her waist next, with his other hand, and then for her crotch. Between the bandages wrapped around her chest and her panic, Andy couldn’t get a single sip of air past her mouth. She grew light-headed.

“I don’t allow women on my ship,” Eli said.

He had removed his hands after his crude inspection, but Andy still felt the sensation of his fingers groping and digging at her hidden body. The nerve endings all over her tingled as if they were about to explode. To her shame, her crotch felt warm.

She stumbled back as Eli listed her options. He could throw her over for being a fraud essentially—tricking his men and such. Or he could dump her at the next bay. Somewhere in the south. She could work in a brothel, he said.

“I’d even visit you from time to time.”

Her gun was hot against her waistband. It would be easy, she thought. This was what pirates were meant to do.

Eli reached out and stroked her hair. The gun burned her skin. It would be so easy.

And it was.

Eli leaned in an inch closer, and Andy pulled out her gun and shot. It was shaky and slow, and Eli tried jumping back to dodge her.

It was nothing like how she had stabbed Bettridge.

She ran from the cabin and vomited and the crew rushed into to see Eli, half-dead on his cabin floor.

Andy looked at the way the skin puckered on Bettridge’s hand. It created a line straight to his knuckle, like a map.

“Do you know what the best part of capturing you is?” Bettridge asked.

Andy didn’t want to talk to him, but she was a touch curious.

“What?”

“I get a handsome reward.”

“That’s not exciting.”

“How about this? I get to watch you be executed.”

“Better.”

“Watching your neck snap and your legs flail—“

“Oh, don’t have me be hanged. I don’t want to be hanged.”

She hated thinking about her body swinging. If she didn’t die right away—it was just an awful image. She imagined herself trying to flail as if she were swimming but with no water, she would only convulse and jerk around while slowly choking.

“What do you want then?”

“Tie bricks to me and drown me.”

Bettridge chuckled. Andy laughed back—loud. She forced cackles out of herself despite her aching lungs. They filled the tiny jail cell and flooded out into the whole brig. They hit the walls will full-force, Andy’s forced hysterics smashing into the bricks.

They turned into a rough cough and then a wheeze.

Andy sank to the ground. The grimy, sweating floor wet her already damp hands. Her fingers were pruning.

She was exhausted. Painfully so. It was inevitable that her fever would come back soon. At this rate, she wouldn’t make it to England. She would be a corpse before then. Bloated and reeking on the brig floor. There was only a sliver of satisfaction knowing that Bettridge wouldn’t get his grand execution and would instead have a maggot-infested body to dispose of.

“I don’t want last rites,” Andy said. Her voice caught in her throat.

“Why not?”

Bettridge sounded genuinely curious.

“I grew up with a lot of the God stuff, and it didn’t really do anything for me,” Andy said. “Not after I got older.”

“Mm. How old?”

“I don’t know.” Andy rested her head against the bars. It was fuzzy in her head if it was before or after her dad left. “I was still a child.”

“That’s a big thing for a child to question.”

“I was a smart child.”

Andy coughed. Her throat stung. She grimaced and tried clearing it.

Bettridge unbuttoned his jacket and pulled out a flask from an inside pocket. He passed it to her through the bars.

Andy took a cautious sip, but she knew that Bettridge wouldn’t kill her on the spot. He wanted the pleasure of watching her be prosecuted and executed. He wanted his twisted justice to be completed.

It was a fine whiskey. Andy would have felt honored that he was sharing it with her if she wasn’t in his jail cell. Rather than the diluted, sugary spirits kept on the pirate ship, Bettrdige’s liquor was like drinking a warm fire. It sizzled as it settled in her belly. It hurt, and it was nice. Aged well. Expensive.

“Cheers,” she said, passing it back.

He took a sip for himself. He screwed the top back on by holding the flask between his knees.

“You know,” he said, buttoning his coat back up. Andy didn’t know how he could stand to be in his thick uniform in the humid brig. “I think I might almost regret letting your ship go.”

“You made a deal.”

“I know. I know. And I am a man of my word. But I can’t help but wonder if you had anything stowed away.”

Andy shook her head. “We lost most of our crew to a fever, and we’re flat broke. There’s nothing of value on that ship.”

Except the people.

“A slave,” Bettridge said, almost like he was humming, “I thought I saw.”

“No.”

“Really? Interesting.”

Pinkey wasn’t enslaved. Never had been. He had just roamed from ship to ship to continent to continent until Andy met him in an inn where he was mopping floors. He did as he pleased. He moved from jobs when he was bored of them. Andy was lucky to meet him when he was bored.

Bettridge sighed and leaned back in his chair. “That woman I saw—“

“What about her?”

“Was she there willingly?”

Andy bit her lip.

“She was. She wasn’t going to stay with us long.”

“I should have grabbed her, too. I hate thinking about her alone on that ship with all those men. She was beautiful.”

A bite of nausea nipped at Andy’s belly. No, she trusted those men. She knew they were better than that.

They had pieced together what Eli had done to her—tried to do to her. And they had clapped her on the back or given her space. Pinkey let her keep the gun.

Tobi should have become captain after the incident, but the crew argued for Andy. Someone who had the guts to kill the current captain deserved the position.

“She’ll be okay,” Andy said.

“I’d pray for her.”

If Bettridge had known, he wouldn’t have let her stay on that ship. He would have dragged her back with a lot less grace than he had afforded Andy.

Bettridge pulled a knife from his pocket. Andy gasped. It was her knife.

He pulled a length of wood from his other pocket. With the weight of his bad hand, he held it down on his knee and began shaving down the sides with the knife in his good hand, whistling as he did it. He was making some sort of animal. Andy couldn’t tell what the blob was supposed to be.

Andy closed her eyes. It was like he was taunting her.

“Can you tell me,” Andy rasped. “I’m curious. What does the Navy do with sirens?”

“Sirens?”

“I’ve heard rumors. Haven’t you caught some?”

Bettridge cut out a chunk of wood, flicking it to the floor. “We’ve caught some. Why?”

“I just want to know. My dad would tell me stories when I was a kid. And I always remember seeing posters when I was a little kid. Of all the offers for rewards if the local fishermen caught one.”

“Mm. Yes. We offered rewards.”

“And what do you do with them?”

Bettridge turned to her. “We run experiments on them. Try to find if we can use them for our benefit.”

“What benefit? What would they even have to offer you?”

“That’s why we experiment on them. We’re still searching for an answer.”

Andy clicked her tongue. “Deranged. Not a single man in the Navy has an ounce of empathy.”

“And pirates do?”

She couldn’t argue.

“What a waste of a living thing to just kill it through meaningless torture.”

Bettridge set his knife and wood on his lap. He folded his hands over the knife. His bad hand was on top. Andy watched as he tilted his head in thought.

“Their tail meat,” he said, “is very tender and buttery. Pairs well with roasted potatoes and a red wine.”

The air around Andy chilled. Bettridge’s words, said so casually, plunged her into an icy river. Her head swam with anger and fear.

Eating sires was a horror she hadn’t even dreamed of. She had expected something awful like torture or experiments, but eating was on an entirely different level of foul.

She couldn’t stop from picturing Bettridge lifting slices of Syan’s tail, forked on polished silver cutlery, to his mouth. A filet of her tail, seared and steaming plated nicely by vegetables. Her scales crisped in oil. It would have to have had her scar tissue cut from it.

A glass of red wine by Bettrdige’s side. An equally grotesque dinner partner across from him.

Andy heard his lips smacking around Syan. Her meat getting caught in his teeth, him trying to pull it out with his tongue, violating her further and further.

It was sickening to think of Syan’s flesh, what she had held under her own hands so tenderly, being turned to mush and then sliding down Bettridge’s gullet only to be shat out later.

Her beautiful, beautiful siren turned to food for those colonizers. Her body chopped up into pieces. Fins being thrown out. Bone being ripped out. The top half of her body—

Andy gagged, a stream of sour saliva pouring dripping out of her mouth. Bettridge laughed at her retching.

“You’re fucking evil,” she said.

“You’re no better.”

“I think I may be.”

Bettridge tsked. That was the problem with his type. The power-hungry, high-ranking assholes of the world all thought they were playing a game everyone else was participating in. They dreamt up their own rules and their own goals and assumed they were normal no matter how deranged it all was. 

Everyone wanted what they wanted, they believed. Everyone was willing to do what they did.

Andy put her weight against the metal bars, no energy left to support herself.

She hoped that her crew was sailing away.

She hoped that Syan was safe.

[umaficwriter]

Champagne Problems

Summary: my Kalijah Christmas take this year!

Notes: I’ve started this in September and hopefully I’m posting this before Christmas Eve. Enjoy!

P.S: this will soon hit ao3 and ffnet as well ;)

Disclaimer: TVD isn’t mine, but I wish Kalijah were.

///

The night was clear and calm. In complete contrast with his chest, that grew nebulous and rebellious by the minute.

The train was quiet as its occupants let themselves rest lulled by their hopes and dreams, incopable of seeing the mask behind the man.

Elijah was crestfallen. His brain numb of its synapses and his heart long hollow.

The solitude and silence only closed in the train metal walls around him.

He did not want to see anyone, nor be alone either, tho. He wasn’t sure which was worse: watching his family celebrating the new year approaching, laughing despite the terrible scene just days prior, or the quietness of strangers unaware of his hurting, of his future crushed before his eyes.

Sighing heavily he fished from his jacket pocket a folded piece of paper.

His fingers trembling as he unfolded it in the low light offered by the moon, as the train followed his destiny.

The kind brown eyes stared back, immobile, incapable of showing anything but affection.

The slight smile he’d loved so much - and still does, for it was too soon to simply forget it - was a sign of mockery now. How could you even consider the possibility of she saying yes? How had he missed the signs?

The long neck and perfect sculptured face only made Elijah want to throw the photograph away and with it the feelings he harbored for her.

He had shown her his secrets, delivered his heart, bruised, beaten black and blue, she’d dropped it. Glass shattered on the white cloth, dripping blood in its wake.

///

The decorations shone to their maximum. Mistletoes strategically placed gave, every now and then, chance to see one of the couples present kissing swiftly. Ornaments made the Mikaelson manor even more beautiful, garlands hand made by Caroline impressed the invitees and stockings adorned the fireplace waiting for their owners to come proclaim their contents.

Said blonde smiled brightly when her oldest brother in law closed the velvety ring box.

“Oh My God!” She neared bounced on her feet, although still aware of her ever growing baby bump.

Elijah smiled down at her “do you think she’s going to appreciate it?” He questioned.

Caroline smiled from ear to ear “she’s going to be thrilled! Katherine trully loves you, Elijah,”

His first idea was to invite Caroline to come purchase the ring with him, no one better to help you choose than your lover’s best friend, right? Albeit, at the last minute he shied away from the idea, choosing to adjust his mother ring instead.

Katherine had a difficult past. Coming from Bulgaria at a young age, she and her twin, as soon as they set foot in America, were stroke by tragedy, when their parents died, leaving them alone in this world, except for their tutors. Giusepe and Lilian Salvatore.

Both parents of Stefan and Damon weren’t much loving, nor with their own, neither with the girls. Hence his future fiancée not feeling belonging to a real family in a long and torturing time. And he was the one who wanted to assure his Katerina that she would be his family. From now on. Always and forever.

So, with his mom’s ring in his pocket, he welcomed family and friends as they gathered around the house for Christmas dinner.

///

“And you think he’s going to propose?” Elena asked her sister as both were tapping the finishing touches in their make up.

Katherine stopped on her tracks, eyes fixiated on the mirror ahead, gazing at her twin through the reflection.

“Why’s that face, Kath?”

Elena also stopped applying her makeup, approaching her sister, downing herself on the bench in front of the vanity mirror, their shoulders bumping.

“Hey,” she tried.

‘I don’t think I’m ready,” she confessed

Elena shook her head “and where’s that idea coming from anyway? You practically live together already,”

“It’s an enormous commitment,” Katherine stated matter of factly

Elena only rolled her eyes “duh, and isn’t that exactly how people end up after a long term relationship? Married?”

“Yes, but-“

Elena rolled her eyes at her copy and got up going back to her previous task.

“Katherine, you’re going to be fine!” She looked back but her sister wasn’t staring.

“Elijah loves you, it’s only natural he’s planing on doing it,”

And she knew as much.

They had talked about it. Kind of.

Elijah was a family man.

She’d known jt from the very beginning.

They had bonded over the years, while his siblings and the Salvatore’s became friends alas she and Elena.

Elijah was the oldest Mikaelson. Always taking care of his brothers and sister, being there for them, holding his family together through thick and thin.

And then she came into his life and he did the same to her.

Showed her true love, held her, walked her through the learning process of loving someone…

Or so she thought.

She did love him. She was only… broken. Incapable to grasp the possibility of building a family, of being part of something that wasn’t fragmented.

Elijah’s touch was Midas’ like, everything turned into gold wherever he went. Their friends appreciated his compassion as well as his humbleness, his loyalty and dignity. He was a true gentleman, a good friend, fervent lover, and Katherine was sure he would be an amazing uncle/ godfather, and when the time came, he would be an incredible dad, treasuring an amazing family.

Only not with her.

She liked things the way they were now. Katherine wasn’t a fan of changes and thought better for them to stay together, although as it is now.

He, on the other hand, couldn’t wait for her to be his wife.

He was nervous. Has been for the past weeks. This night would be the one where his life would change for the better . He would propose to the woman he loved for years now, and if everything went according to plan, they would be married already around this time, next year.

“Hello, handsome,” Katherine greeted as she approached her boyfriend in the parlor.

Elijah took a moment to admire her before taking her hand in his, kissing the back of it. Act he usually did when they were on a more formal occasion, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

“You look ravishing, as always, my Katerina,” he complimented admiring her deep red dress and lips. Her nails were painted a nude color, thing he commented on because it wasn’t usual for her. Did she know what were his plans for the evening? Only Klaus and Caroline knew so far, less people knew, less chance of screwing the surprise.

“Oh,” she casually analyzed her nail polish, the other hand on her waist “just went for a change, I guess,”

Nodding, Elijah smiled and softly kissed her lips, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and kissing just below it before parting

“I love you, Katerina,” came his confession, eyes shining. He could go down on one knee right then and there, but some people were yet to arrive and he wanted everyone to witness this special moment.

Catching the different glint in her lover’s eyes, Katherine tilded her head in questioning, but chose to respond with a chase kiss instead, her hands coming to rest on Elijah’s upper chest.

Little did they know it would be their last kiss in a while.

///

Christmas songs chimed in the background, lights twinkling while animated chatter filled the Mikaelson manor with the holiday sprit, it was a happy moment in the lives of all involved and Elijah contemplated his love while she talked with her best friend, Caroline, her twin beside them trying to hear the baby inside the ever growing baby bump his sister-in-law would carry around ‘till February, Hope would be born a spring baby, just like her mother, apparently.

He couldn’t help but think that a couple years from now it would be him and Katherine going through something similar.

Smiling over his wishful thinking, he caught his sister calling everyone to enjoy dinner.

After that, he, Katherine, as well as the Salvatore’s, miss Bennet, and his family were gathered around the grand room. Some standing by the window, Caroline and his brother sharing whispers in the couch beside his sister and Stefan.

Katerina stood lonesome by the giant tree in the corner of the room. The fireplace offered a hue that made her ethereal, an angel set ablaze within his darkest hour.

He idolized her, loving her so profoundly it crushed every turbulence away. With that in mind, he crossed the room calmly but purposefully, stopping beside her.

“Katerina,”

The smile she offered him made him melt all over, she was beautiful.

The man’s hand touched hers, bringing it to his lips, the gesture conducted a smile to appear in the woman’s face.

“What was that for?” She questioned. Elijah has always been affectionate, gentle, tender even, but tonight he seemed to exaggerate. It felt like he wanted to say something but was holding back.

Shrugging dismissively he shook his brown-haired head.

“You should know that from the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you,” he took a deep breath and Katherine kept smiling at him, her hand interlaced in his.

“I’ve never thought I’d find love, less so in my early years of life but you were there, beautiful, outgoing, fearless,” his eyes shone as he recalled their early days “the complete opposite of myself, but precisely what I needed…”

It was then Katherine realized the chatter in the room had died down, side glancing she noticed her friends and Elena watching them expectantly. Rebekah even had a champagne bottle in hand.

Katherine knew very well where this was going.

“Katerina-“

“I need for you to stop right there,” her eyes locking with his “please…”

Elijah nodded although confused.

Her hand’s dismantled themselves from his grip, the brown pools shining with bright water crystals, whose reflected Elijah’s hurt. Before she proffered anything, he already knew her answer.

It hurt.

It hurt her deeply injuring him in such a way. But she could not, for the life of her, commit to marriage.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride, an alluring wife. What a shame she was fucked in the head.

“Katerina…” his plea crushed her a little more and the waterfall created itself smearing her makeup. Elijah’s orbs begged for her not to do this.

Everything happened so fast, at the same time it seemed to take forever.

She dropped his hand.

No one celebrated no more. An unsettling stillness hung in the air as the clock stroke twelve.

Twirling on her heels, Katherine left him standing, depraved from her warmth, the front door opening and closing, a sound that would hunt him for years from now.

///

The Fourth of July came and went quickly for everybody but Elijah.

Katherine had asked for Elena to gather her things at his condo and when he tried to talk to Elena, convince her to convince her sister to at least, talk to him - she owes me that much, I’ve dedicated years of my life, my heart and soul and she simply turned me down without any explanation whatsoever? I deserve to know why! - and the younger twin agreed, but there’s nothing in heaven or hell to bend her sister’s will.

That was how it ended.

Elijah couldn’t conceive his life nowadays. A year ago he was cheering, drinking, spending the day in bed making love to the woman he thought he would’ve spent the rest of his life with.

Now everything had been shattered, fireworks that faded right before his eyes, transforming themselves in lightning, scaring away his hopes and dreams.

///

November flushed her cheeks as the snow constantly fell at her backyard.

Katherine breathed deeply, the cold air engulfing her insides, her skin prickling with goosebumps as she closed her eyelids.

Fall had always been exciting. It was her favorite season, after all.

She closed the flannel tighter remembering easier times, when that same back porch witnessed languid kisses, sweet promises, adoring glances and such a deep, heartfelt feeling she thought she would say ‘yes’ when the time came, instead she’d lacked words, her courage down the drain, melting just like this white sea would a couple months from now.

Being with him wasn’t encloustrating, being inside her head otherwise…

She felt like she could burn from the coldness of not touching him no more.

Her head spinning with so many conclusions, so many convictions that served her nothing but increasing her anxiety.

Could’ve been this, that made her say nothing? Made her walk away?

So many tears and years denying she had a problem, champagne problems they would say…

Katherine was broken.

Damaged.

But Elijah had seen something inside her eyes. He had burnt himself inside the hellfire that was her mind.

Forcefully wiping her tears away, she took a deep breath. There wasn’t an easy way out of this. In fact, she’d already copped out when she left the manor at Christmas Eve, and then again when she had her sister grab her things at his house, instead of growing herself a nerve and doing it by hererlf.

But it would’ve been too hard… seeing the pain inside his chocolate pools, knowing she had been the one who caused it.

And even if she ran to him right now, they would never be the same.

She’d bet her life that Rebekah said she was fucked in the head, that she was an egoistical bitch, and that her brother was better off.

Katherine had broken them up.

She was to blame.

But someone also was to blame for her being like this. Her disability for commitment wasn’t born with her, one could call it trauma, genetics… somehow she turned out this way.

///

December entered the calendar and slowly turned itself into Christmas lights, peppermint candies, Santa hats and tall, tall Virginia Pines.

Like a problememwtic child, it screamed inside Elijah’s head: a year since..

Shaking his head he gathered his things and left for the living room, where his family talked loudly, all probably spoiling Hope rotten.

Caroline and Klaus were so, so lucky. Not only because their daughter was healthy, gracious, perfect, but also ‘cause they had reached this far.

It made Elijah wishful thinking on how would’ve beens, on how she was feeling now…

A year had passed by and it still hurt. Less so than it did before, but the sting was there, knocking on the walls of his heart, screaming, begging for him to let go, to try once more calling her, to ask Elena again, to ask Caroline how she was in Japan, and f she would be back for New Years' Eve.

Yes, she couldn’t’ve left the message clearer. She desired to be, to exist as far away as geographically possible from him, from his stupidi ring, from his stupid habit of keeping a picture of her in his wallet.

He wished he could deem it champagne problems, and just like the bubbles when you swallowed ‘em, Elijah wished she would disappear from his mind.

Watching his family brought some comfort though, their smiles, the hugs they shared, the cheers as Hope distracted all of them with her toddler mannerisms… it was the bits of magic his life lacked nowadays.

She backing out from his proposition he could, painfully understand. After all, he had met Katerina when she was pretending to be strong, but feeling the complete opposite. And he saw it.

He saw her.

Not the tough girl act, not the barriers she’d built around herself.

Elijah had seen her for the sensitive person she was, the one who was never introduced to real care, the one who was loyal, sexy, funny, sassy, talented…

Back then Katherine lived in a world where only her mind existed, a castle whose walls were so high, one could never enter and she wouldn’t be able to leave.

And he knew she knew he had put it down.

Only for her, years later, put it back up as soon as he proposed.

He would like to understand, fully what was on her mind. But he wasn’t a masochist, he wouldn’t go after her just to receive radio silence. If she didn’t want to marry him, he couldn’t force her to.

Happiness wasn’t something he felt much these days, but he held onto his pride, or at least the bit that was still there.

///

Next December was born in a colder than usual weather, still, Elijah held Gia’s hand tighter as he knocked at the Salvatore house’s front door.

Stefan welcomed them, while the others gathered around the living area. It wasn’t Christmas yet, but the place was decorated to the nines. The tree in the far corner near the fireplace ablaze, many gift boxes that he was quite sure had his niece name on them, after all, the friends liked to spoil the younger Mikaelson.

“Elijah, Gia, hi!” Elena greeted them animatedly, side hugging her ex-in-law and greeting Gia with a proper hug.

Family and friends were acquainted with his girlfriend of six months now, Gia Mohan. a lawyer he had worked with a couple years back and had reencountered last January.

She was funny, outspoken, polite, beautiful, a great professional and Elijah could say he felt happy again, after a long time.

Gia was just making small talk with Elena about her engagement ring - Damon had proposed just a month ago -, when they heard yet another knock at the door.

He figured they were all here already and technically they were, so imagine his surprise when at turning around, he caught Elena letting out a yelp that caught everyone’s attention and hugging her twin sister by the door.

“Oh my God! You came!”

And for Elijah it was like time had stopped.

Notes: is it over now? will come soon

[indigosabyss]

You know it hasn’t been confirmed, but I am convinced on the set/studio of ‘Hazbin Hotel’ that they had Alex Brightman read Vox’s lines as a placeholder until they had someone else cast, because like a YouTube reactor I follow was watching the show and in the second episode thought Vox was voiced by Alex from the moment of that first “VoxTech, Trust us with your safety.” line and the following ones about those sweartitles hellTV shows on the Vox channel, and I knew it wasn’t him and that he’d be corrected soon, so I looked up the cast to find out how to spell Vox’s actual actor’s surname properly (Borles, as in Christian Borles) and it turned out the reactor wasn’t all wrong: Vox’s first line, what his voice sounded like over the announcement speaker for “VoxTech”, had actually also been voiced by Alex. Like he had a credit there as ‘VoxTech Announcer Voice’ alongside his two main roles as Adam and Sir Pentious, and I first thought “Wow, this reactor is much better at spotting voices than he even knows, like no one else on the internet seems to have taken note of this online, and he found it accidentally without knowing”, initially he thought it was going to be that Adam had a stake in the Vees and that was why it was his voice, before realising it was a different character (but not that the following voice was a different one), then as he went along and started analysing the cadences of Vox’s voice, how it was echoing characters and voices Alex had done in the past, what I mentioned first then occurred to me. That the initial readthrough/precast lines for the storyboarding were read by Alex, what with how he is a SpindleHorse favourite, doing Robo Fizz and Fizzarolii for ‘Helluva Boss’ before even ‘Hazbin Hotel’, on a separate note he even voiced the film version of Beetlejuice in an animated crossover with ‘Teen Titans Go!’ using the same voice, and I thought (on him doing the readings) that that made sense, that they likely kept in that first line as a little Easter egg, acknowledging the behind the scenes work he did on the vocal side of things. Like I could see them having at one point considered just having him voice Vox full-time, but decided against it for Borles. Either way, brava Alex Brightman. Your voice is a good one.

Woah, this reactor had a good ear!!! I can barely recognize actors' faces in different contexts. Wow.

(Sidenote, TTG had a Beetlejuice appearance? Damn)

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

64. Things We Never Got Over by Lucy Score--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Hear me out: The main reason why this isn't a five star read was because something about it kept putting me off. Like, I would pick up the book and think, "I'm really enjoying this, wow!" and then I'd put it down. Then anxiety would hit and I wouldn't pick it up for days at a time. But I've very glad I did.

I loved the story behind this and seeing how the FMC and the MMC worked through their *cough* sexual *cough* frustrations. Their chemistry jumped off the page from the moment they met. Their spicy scenes fed some of the spicy hunger I had while reading this book, but it was how they grew to not being able to be without the other that really got me...even if this was set in a short amount of time.

Let's be honest: this book was massive, but it takes place over a surprisingly short amount of time. That threw me off a bit.

I loved the whole "evil twin" trope because it felt like its own character for the first half of this book. It definitely added a nice twist to the traditional small-town romance storyline! Especially since the FMC was already running away from something in her past.

The cast of side characters were great and I enjoyed getting to know them and watching them grow and just warm the pages of the book.

One thing: This felt very much like a book Zapata fans would love. My only complaint (even though in other instances I would be the opposite of this) is that we had a dual perspective. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed seeing what Knox had to say and what his thoughts were, but one of the things I enjoyed about books like this is seeing the love interest slowly melt as the story progresses. Being able to see what he's thinking kind of took that mystery away for me. I'm just in a contrarian kind of mood, I guess.

Anyway, I really enjoyed this and I'm glad I kept trying to read it. It was definitely worth the fight and I definitely want to pick up the sequel at some point this year!

___

65. Hitting the Wall by Cate C. Wells--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I came for the secret baby and stayed for the tough as balls FMC. She was a fighter mom who only wanted the best for her daughter and who loved her no matter what society told her or threw at her. Their relationship was what made this book something so special.

But that MMC was something else. He was so naive and so frustrating. There was so much talk about "family" and being unable to believe that someone he grew up with could be so awful. But I WILL say that I appreciated how he did start to notice certain things and was immediately in dad mode. I do think, however, that he needed a backbone and I absolutely loved how the main character kept calling him out whenever he said, "I'll talk to them".

The spice was pretty good, but also felt slightly basic and a little fast--especially consider the trauma the FMC has of being shut out so soon after their ONS so many years before (when she was 17 and he was 24, btw, which was weird af.)

I did like the mystery behind this and how it carries into the second book. I DO think that one of the things that could potentially be detrimental to this series is how it is potentially intertwined with the other series by Wells. I'm pretty sure something happens in another book in her other series that is referenced in book 2. Also, the abrupt ending in this book where...no one really faces any real consequences was disappointing.

Good thing I liked the second book more.

___

66. Against the Wall by Cate C. Wells--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Hands down, this book was better than the first one.

The MMC still had some naive moments like his brother in book one, but his spine was a little stronger. Plus, we all love the misguided guy who thinks the only way to get the love of his life's attention is by teasing her and *bullying* her in front of others, even though he insists that he wasn't bullying her.

I think with storylines like this, where we have two narrators, getting the full story really adds meat to a story, transforming it from a one dimensional bully story into a fully fledged story of a man pining so hard for another woman that he reverts to acting like a child. For example, her commenting that he was acting weird and twitchy, when, after reading what his personality is actually like, the reader knows that he's just nervous as hell.

The spice took a while, but I enjoyed it (even if it was admittedly brief) because we had to work for it. It wasn't gratuitous and it was granted to us after a build up of this relationship being fixed and healed.

But while I enjoyed the banter (I laughed a few times), the surprisingly delicious southern charm, and the thrilling undertone of the mystery and cloud of despair hanging over the town, I really didn't like how the FMC reacted to something she stumbles upon. Granted, maybe I'm broken, but I didn't agree at all with her reaction. Another thing I wasn't a huge fan of, but I won't take a star off for because it makes sense since this is a southern book, but the God worship was...a lot. If it wasn't for the sex, swear words, and innuendo, I'd call this a Christian romance. It was a lot and although it didn't feel preachy, it was a lot more than I was used to in my romance novels.

Also, some of the events of book one are transferred to this one, so that was a great way of continuing the tension from the last book.

___

67. Skandar & the Phantom Rider by A.F. Steadman--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

SKANDAR book one took me completely by surprise. I never expected to love it as much as I did, to the point where I sometimes still think about it. I think this is one of those series that has the power to be remembered decades from now because it has so many things that a lot of readers love in MGLit novels: adventure, mystery, a daring group of friends, an outcast MC trying to still do the right thing, and a world that is determined to make the MC's life as difficult as possible.

While book two didn't have the same impact on me as book one, I still really enjoyed it. I loved the twists and that ending! This book follows the MC almost directly after the events of book one, so we are immediately seeing the repercussions of his secret keeping, how the truth of his existence is affecting his new society, and what it looks like to be treated as an outsider in a very bigoted world (bigotry against spirit unicorns). I liked seeing these very really consequences and felt the pain the MC felt when he encountered the people who wanted to either keep him down or take him out completely.

One of the things this series also tackles in a slightly subtle way is grief, its effects, and its aftershocks. It shows us our inability to forgive when grief has its clutches in us--whether it's grief for a person or for a life that never was. This grief can be catastrophic and even world-ending.

SKANDAR also touches on the very real emotions kids might experience: jealousy, moments where emotions are overwhelming but because they're so young they don't fully know how to navigate them, and the fear of disappointing those we love.

This is just a very well rounded book with some surprising twists and fun but dangerous adventure. I loved reading about how these characters find the answers they're seeking, despite everything being against them.

I highly recommend this series!

___

68. Charge by Cate C. Wells--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Came for the single mom romance with a biker dude, stayed for the adorable kid and the slap in the face the FMC's dad and stepmom needed after all of the shit they put her through. The level of audacity these people have is so frustrating that that ending was *chef's kiss*.

I love how we're introduced to the MMC in this book because it felt very realistic (especially when he finds out that the beautiful and young woman he was hitting on is actually a very young mom). I don't think I've ever read a romance book where the love interest looks terrified and breaks that "oozing sexual confidence" that a lot of love interests tend to have when the MC first meets them. It was hilarious and one of the better parts of this book.

I think I'd have to dig further into this series to fully appreciate some of the characters since they're only briefly touched on, but I did find it entertaining to see some characters I recognized from Wells's other series.

Trigger warning in this one for the mention of r#@e--that part was rough. Also, victim blaming, and emotional and verbal abuse. Stay safe out there!

I'd definitely recommend this one to readers who love a strong mom who doesn't have an easy life, but has all of the love for her child. Also, if you like a sassy kid who has a huge personality, then this one might appeal to you. And finally, if you like the classic bad boy with a heart of gold and brothers who would ride to war for him, then you need to add this to your TBR.

___

69. Hidden Pictures by Jason Rekulak--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

While this wasn't as amazing as I thought it would be (thanks hype trains), I ended up really enjoying HIDDEN PICTURES.

I thought the mystery aspect of this book was fun and had some pretty good twists thrown in there, even though they did feel like they came out of nowhere. The paranormal aspect of the story gave it that nice creepy vibe--especially the artwork thrown into the story here and there.

The writing wasn't the absolute best. There were some instances that felt very YA, especially when the MC is falling for her love interest. I do love their teamwork, but it was giving me YA Thriller vibes (which isn't a bad thing because I love that genre). I don't know if I'd call this a horror novel, maybe more of a paranormal thriller?

That being said, there were definitely some creepy and skin tingling scenes that had nothing to do with the paranormal aspect. Those scenes made me so uncomfortable and were probably the things that creeped me out the most about HIDDEN PICTURES. Other than the truth behind the mystery. That was some twisted shit.

If you're looking for a fast-paced paranormal thriller this summer, this might be the one for you. Maybe don't read it alone in a dark cabin, though.

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

Happy reading!

[sniixnn]

steve harrington x reader where the both of them are at the halloween party in season 2, and instead of the angsty bathroom scene between nancy & steve, its the opposite & the reader is drunkenly letting out a love confession about him, and its just really fluffy n’ cute?

if you dont feel up to this, no worries!! 🥰🫶

a sight to remember

pairing : steve harrington x ( female ) reader

notes : I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!! my heart is fluttering at the thought of it my lord <33 also my autocorrect went really weird for this one so there might be some words that are messed up in there. sorry. :) SORRY I COULDNT MAKE THIS ONE GN IM SORRY 💔💔💔💔

warnings : none, really - swearing , alcohol ? ( reader is called shit nicknames by billy but steve’s here to help <3 )

the obnoxiously loud music that was bound to have the neighbors call became nothing more than a beat for you to sway your body to, mind and vision hazy from the amount of alcohol you consumed.

the room was stuffy and the amount of stumbling, vomiting people around was beginning to choke the room up. groaning, you downed the last of your cup and looked around, running a hand through your hair as you heard commotion.

billy hargrove, the new popular guy at your school was currently sweaty, followed by tommy hagan and a few more of his minions (you called them) but most importantly, was also sneering at your boyfriend as he compared their success.

approaching him, you bit back the urge to tell him to fuck off, to get out, but steve merely shook his head at you as you came closer. sticking to his shoulder. your eyes were half lidded and you stared blankly, your grip on your cup tightening as you stated at billy.

and he was sure to stare back. he chewed on whatever was in his mouth, eyeing you up and down. laughing, he hit steve a bit too hard on the shoulder. ‘what, called your slut here harrington for help?’ recoiling, you pursed your lips as steve furrowed his eyebrows.

‘hey, leave her out of this.’ he frowned, taking off the sunnies from his costume as you laughed groggily, leaning against steve slightly as you went to cover your mouth. uttering very quietly, you had to stifle your laughter.

‘yeah — fuck off, hargrove.’ the room went silent as only few people laughed, steve being more shocked than concerned as his eyes went wide. he began pulling you closer subconsciously and preparing to take whatever blow billy intended on sending before you hit s gentle smack to his chest, approaching the culprit closer as you stared him down. ‘i’m serious.’

billy leaned down, considerably taller than you as he shook his head slightly. ‘you know, even though you really are such a bitch i never considered you would have it in you.’ remaining eye contact for a few seconds, his hand moved before steve had a chance to pull in front of you.

pulling away in disgust you let out a scoff. the front of your outfit was warm, booze trickling down as you stared at the result with your fists clenched. your now white outfit was stained a brown, and it made you feel dirty as your face flushed with embarrassment. though you were naturally warm the eyes of everyone on you made you set to get out of there more than ever. colliding shoulders with hargrove you groaned, slurring something along the lines of ‘so full of shit’ as you made a beeline towards the bathroom.

gritting his teeth, steve hurried up after you. closing the door gently behind him, he saw you scrambling to clean the drink off of your shirt as you opted to use some tissues, your blinking slowed and movements slightly delayed. choosing to get a better look he saw your efforts become fruitless, the alcohol showing no signs of coming out of the material anytime soon. ‘fuck, i’m so sorry babe.’ he muttered, gently grabbing your wrist as he tried to stop your scratching against the fabric. ‘its — its not coming out.’

‘no—‘ you grumbled, trying to wriggle out of his grip. steve sighed, his actions seeming futile as you persisted. ‘its coming out — just wait.’ while you were caught off guard and your eyes began to droop, steve snatched the tissues and placed them onto the counter, taking hold of your hands. ‘y/n.’ he whispered, seeing you turn your attention to him in shock. ‘come on. let’s go home.’ he murmured, kissing you on the top of your head.

the warmth from the kiss remained though his lips no longer lingered and the very thought made your heart flutter. looking at him your mouth curled into a small smile. ‘i love you.’ you uttered, pushing your face into his chest after your small confession. expression softening he relaxed, leaning away so he could get a better look at your face.

‘what was that, baby?’ whispering quietly he laughed at your drunken state, as you wriggled around in an attempt to hide your flushed face. ‘you love me?’ if cupid was present in the bathroom, harrington wouldn’t be surprised at all. it felt as if an arrow had been shot through his heart, his mind flashing back to the first time you ever said that to him.

‘well, yeah.’ rolling your eyes you tugged away. ‘we’re dating, aren’t we?’ staring at him with a blank gaze, you expressed a giggle. ‘s’what if i love you?’ you leaned closer, a hand rising to toy with his hair. ‘i love your big hair n’ the way you kiss me.’ steve had to suppress a laugh as his face turned a bright pink. you were close, and better than anything; you were his girlfriend. god, he was lucky.

‘oh yeah?’ he smirked, a hand sliding up the back of your shirt. it was cold — the type of cold that you were craving. planting a hot, messy kiss to your lips, you reciprocated eagerly as steve cupped your face in his hands. pulling away, he licked up his lips and whispered, ‘do you like that?’

nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck and if steve knew any better he would’ve thought that you were going in for another kiss - but just as he went to close his eyes you buried your nose in his hair, sighing in content. looking down, he noticed that you were on your tippy-toes in an attempt to reach. wrapping his arms around your waist, he rhythmically rubbed his thumb against your clothes. ‘if we stay like this any more i’m concerned that you’re going to fall asleep.’ seeing that you didn’t respond, he widened his eyes. ‘babe?’ groaning tiredly, you slumped in his arms and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

slowly detaching your hands from his neck, he placed a hand on your back as he helped you regain balance. he took one last look at you before opening the bathroom door and he nearly choked on his laughter — your hair was frizzed, your make up beginning to become faded colors though stubbornly remaining on your face, your clothes slovenly after your incident downstairs. you were five seconds away from falling asleep and to others, would appear a mess; a high school girl who drank a little too much. but to steve, your appearance was a sight to remember, one he would cherish and one you wouldn’t hear enough of in the morning.

— that is, if you woke up in the morning.

you really couldn’t handle alcohol, could you?

but steve had never been more glad.

[vanilladaises-rp]

YANDERE BACKSTORY #1

BAE IRENE

• Irene Bae grew up in a very wealthy family, while she never got to know the love of her late mother she had her father who is a famous businessman in Gangnam.

• Even though her father was around, he never loved and care for her like one should. He was all about money and how instead of waiting for what you want, you should just take it instead.

• All he ever taught her was greed, power and dominance in order for her to have a successful business of her own, she never played with toys or was treated like a real kid. She only became what she was simply taught.

• Irene never had any friends in school either, in fact everyone was completely scared of her and was told to stay away due to her father’s power, one wrong move and he could entirely ruin someone’s life.

•It made Irene feel safe at first, but once her classmates fleeted once she entered a room, she felt scared and alone. She never had one to express this too either, her father would just call her weak and to just to ignore them.

• She wasn’t entirely alone, she was friends with her father’s friends daughters, Yeri, Seulgi, Joy & Wendy although she wouldn’t consider Wendy a friend at times, she’s more two faced than she looks.

•As Irene got older, instead of shuddering from other peoples scowls and screams, she took her father’s advice by making people fear her, instead of her fearing others. Soon she became the head bitch in the entire school.

•Irene had got everything she wanted, good grades, awards, dates and was allowed to ditch any classes. Even with all that, she wouldn’t stop. Irene always wanted and had to have more.

•Now when it comes to her love life, it was all about having sex with random guys. She’d threaten and manipulate them to sleep with her in exchange for what they wanted, scholarships, good report cards, money you name it. Irene had her own little sex business for awhile.

•That was until she met Junho. He was the new boy in school and everyone gawked over him. He was handsome, kind and such a gentleman which is something she wouldn’t usually go for, and she was everything he hated in a woman. Which is exactly why she had to have him

•Attracting Junho was harder than she thought, he had no desire to be sexual with her, which is all she knew. Instead, he taught her true love, feelings and kindness.

•Irene became such a different and better version of herself because of him, he made this once selfish arrogant women become genuine and caring. Irene had finally made friends and no longer felt alone.

•It would’ve stayed that way too, but then prom night came. Irene had got all dolled up for him, her chauffeur taking her to the venue. While pulling up, she saw Junho with another girl. A girl that was one of her new supposed “friends”

•Irene felt upset but most of all embarrassed, she rushed to confront him and her. He’d advise Irene that he manipulated her to believe he liked her but in the end fed her the same shame she’d served many times to others.

•Irene was livid seeing them together, she couldn’t focus on anything but tearing the two apart. She continued her night lurking in the shadows of the dance hall keeping a very steady eye on the two, waiting for the perfect moment to get her “friend” alone.

•Finally, she’d left the hall to take a trip to the bathroom, Irene followed quietly behind her. Once they were both in, Irene locked the door and killed the lights. Irene wasn’t entirely sure what her end game is here but she wanted to let hell rain on this girl til she was satisfied.

•Irene banged her head multiple times against the stall and sink, the girl wanting to cry out for help but Irene had already busted her lips terribly, putting them in too much pain to move

•After irene left her bloody body in the dark room, and fleeted the school. The next day her crime scene spread all over the news, once becoming titled the mysterious death of her town. Daddy’s little girl was also taught how to gather and dispose her evidence.

•Junho was crushed but also traumatized by her sudden death and something about that made Irene feel a new sense of power. She wanted to pay her respects to both families, first the girl’s than Junho’s

•She came knocking on his door explaining to his mom how the three of them were so close and great friends, she let Irene go up to his room, where he laid in tears.

•Irene cleared her throat, announcing her presence im the room. She closed the door for some privacy, “How pathetic, crying over a girl you barely knew” she said which made him shocked.

•He sat up and ordered her to leave but Irene only laughed, “You think you’re in charge here kitten? Tsk What a naughty boy” she teased pushing him back down, putting her hand over his mouth.

•Irene definitely reached a new point and even surprised herself a little, but she loved this new found dominance she had over him, “shh shh, it’s okay kitten. Im so sorry that mean girl is causing you so much pain and making you cry like this” she cooed caressing his cheek “but I’m here now, mommy will take care of you. I got rid of her for us”

•His eyes widened immediately and started to squirm under her touch, “stop fucking crying i said!” She spat smacking him, “listen clear kitten, I will kill anyone who gets in my way, so you better start obeying me if you know what’s good for you” she growled

•To scared to disagree the poor boy nodded, agreeing to her terms. It didn’t stop there, for weeks Irene clinge to his side, babying him and treating him like her pet. He hated it but didn’t want another soul to get hurt.

•After five months together, Junho could no longer handle her bullshit. She drove him insane to the point where he wanted to end it all and by morning, he was gone. Irene left him completely alone for the first time and she regrets it so much. Since then, she made a vow to herself to never, ever leave her kitten alone again.

(This took me all day and i still don’t like the ending 😭 but i really really enjoyed doing this and will do each idol eventually! Please request which one you’d like to see next! 🫶🏻)

[chronosaurusnot]

VIP boy

pairing: dom!bangchan x bratty sub!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2.1k

warnings: +18, night club, mentions of alcohol, teasing (with minho), jealousy, possessiveness, bratty behavior, explicit sexual content, bathroom sex, choking, pet names, degrading, slight humiliation, fingering, oral sex (m), rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe please), cumming, creampie

note: so the original idea was a request from my friend about chan in a night club, but after that teaser i can't get out of my mind that scene of him choking hyunjin from behind. so, this is a mix of both things, i hope you like it!

as always, i’d like to clarify that english is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any mistakes, and feel free to give me suggestions<3

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you ended up in the night club again with your friends; another night when you don’t know why you are there. it’s been a rough week, full of work and with stressful exams, so your friends insisted on getting you out to distress yourself a little bit. but between the time you’ve spent on getting ready plus all the sweaty people pushing you all around right now, you could swear you would’ve been better in your bed watching a movie or something, or even sleeping. it’s been already an hour maybe? you don’t know so you go straight to the bar to get some drink to see if time gets faster; hopefully it’ll make you less grumpy.

but when you are there, you see him on the vip section of the first floor. chan is there with his friends, talking and looking good as he always does. you start feeling like the night could maybe get a little more interesting, but when you get to see him talking with a girl that feeling changes to anger. sure, you agreed on being friends with benefits -if that was even a title or smt- so you both could be with anyone else you wanted, always respecting each other. so if he didn’t know you were there, in the same way you didn’t know he was coming too, it was okay if he wanted to be with someone else, right? but all the logic didn’t seem to care to your emotions, because you were now in a horrible mood.

you took your drink from the bar and drank it in less than a minute without taking your eyes off him and that girl. that dumb girl, she really thinks he’s hers tonight. but it’s stupid to feel like fighting over a man, so you get your mind clear and go back with your friends to tell them what you just saw to laught about it.

but when you look up again, you see chris leaning on the railing looking at you. he smiles when he notices your stare and waves at you, and after you wave back he makes gestures to let you know you can go there with them. you really wanted to play hard but you go there with your friends, following his instructions like a puppy obeys his owner.

“hey princess, you didn’t tell me you were coming” he greets you with a smile on his face. “yeah, the girls insisted on going out to destress a little bit, but i think i would have been better sleeping” you answer, trying to hide your growing excitement to see him there. “oh don’t be grumpy y/n, it’s early, we can still have a good night” he said in a cute and smirky way, an attitude that you hated and loved at the same time.

“yes i see you were already having a good time” you answer, and chris looks kinda confused. you point with your eyes to the girl he has been talking to, and he smirks at your reaction. “don’t be jealous princess, i was just talking”

you rolled your eyes at his stupid answer, and he just smiles. you hated how flirty he was and his fuck boy vibes, but there was something about him that eventually made you like him; maybe way too much. it all started as just a sex partner, but since day one you discover he was actually a super sweet, caring and fun guy, so you got really atractted to him in a matter of time. friends with benefits sounded right for both of you, but you always wanted more from him. maybe it’s his fault, cause he’s always giving you everything you want, but not only sexually; he is a pleasant man, you know he would give and do anything for his girl. and you wanted to be that girl. his only one.

and especially tonight. how could someone be so fine? he was all in black as always: black pants, black leather jacket and a black silk shirt that let you see his whole chest. “what a fucking fuck boy” you said to yourself, trying to hate him.

“what do you wanna drink, babygirl?” chan said, bringing you back from your thoughts. “your favourite one?” he continued while taking off his wallet from his pocket. you knew he was just doing it to show his hands; chan knew exactly the power his hands hold on you.

“yes, please” he smiles at your answer and goes to the bar for your drink.

but as soon as he goes, minho comes to you. “come on change that shitty face and dance a little y/n” he says while grabbing you from your arms to force you to dance with him. he takes you maybe way too closer to his body considering he is chris’s friend. but you think to yourself that maybe it’s a good idea; using this to get chan’s attention, to look at you, to make him jealous, and taking advantage to dance with a man so fine like minho. you wouldn’t be with him, sure, he is his friend; but it would be nice to at least flirt with him a little bit.

you sincerely got lost while dancing with him, so close to each other; till you notice chan looking at you both while leaning on the railing with the two cups on his hands. he looks at you in a challenging way, like wanting to see how far you can go.

and you accept the challenge, getting minho even closer to your body without cutting the eye contact with chris; you can see how his eyes turned darker, and you just smirk at his reaction. you dance a couple more minutes with minho, his hands on your waist, yours on his neck; after deciding it was enough teasing, you go back to chan playing the innocent. “he was helping me to cut out the bad mood, he’s so sweet. thank you for the drink channie”

“yeah i see, you should hang out with him.” he answers, his look darker; you prouder. “oh you think so? i mean, he seems to want to help me out to not be bored.” you answer, loving to see how your dumb plan worked.

“oh you just want to have fun, mh?” he says in a dark way, making you feel nervous and taking a big sip from your drink. “i know a place when you could have fun”.

you finished your drink in a couple of seconds, so he just takes your cup away from your hand. “why don’t you follow me, princess?”

he lefts the cups in the table, and takes you by the hand to guide you through the place. he talked to you calmly, but you knew he wasn’t not only because of the way he looked at you, but also cause he was holding you rough.

“get in, princess” chris says, letting you place to came in the bathroom. you get shocked; is a public space, but you are feeling so aroused with this situation that you just got in. chan locks the door behind you and turns you around to put you against it, resting his hand above you.

“you’ve been such a bratty, babygirl” he says, using his free hand to caress your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck. “if you were just bored, you should have told me instead of acting like a slut with my friend” chan continues while adding pressure on your neck, making you shut your legs from the feeling. he notices it and smirks in a mocking way. “are you already turned on, y/n? are you that desperate?”

he keeps on adding pressure, driving you crazy. you felt your panties getting wetter as every second passed by. so you decided to keep pushing his limits. “you’re not the only one who pays attention to me, chris. you should try better” his smile turns devilish.

“do you want me to remind you how good i fuck you, y/n?” he keeps choking you, but uses his other hand to touch you under your skirt. “do you want me to remind you whose name you repeat endless times while moaning?” he moves your panties to a side and start touching your pussy while still choking you, making you moan at the feeling of his cold hands rubbing against your clit. he laughs mockingly again at your desperate face.

“did you get this wet while dancing with minho? do you prefer his fingers over mine?” he never desease the smirk on his face, his nose touching yours and the feeling of his heavy breathing so close to you while you were cutted out of air made you go crazy. but you let out a moan after he gets two fingers inside you, making him laugh again.

“tell me, princess. tell me whose are you” you wanna answer, but he curls his fingers inside you while increasing his pace and makes you even harder to breathe. “i’m yours” you answer, and he takes his fingers out of you to put them in your mouth. you suck them instinctively, keeping eye contact with him, seeing the arousal in his eyes.

“you’re mine, y/n. no one else” you keep sucking on his fingers while his other hand finally moves from your neck to your waist, getting you closer to him. he softly moans at the feeling of his hardened dick rubbing against your hot core. “you are my baby slut, and the only one i want to please”

that was everything you needed to hear for being now completely at his will. the only thing you wanted was to be his only girl, the only one who he pleases, the only one who pleased him. you were feeling more desperate than ever now, getting crazier at the way he was rubbing his bulge against you in such a needy way, with both of his hands now on your hips, guiding you to make the touch rougher.

you remove his jacket and your eyes travel all over his chest, revealed by the thin silk. one of your hands caresses his chest, shoulders and neck, while the other one unzips his pants to get his cock out, making him moan louder at the feeling of your skin. “let me please you too, chris” you tell him in a whiny voice that makes him shiver.

you kneeled before him, and as soon as your lips touched the tip of his cock he rested both of his hands on the door that was behind you, moving his head backwards between deep groans.

“you’re such a pretty slut for me, y/n” he says and you speed up your pace. he starts to feel uncomfortable in any position, battling his urge to cum only to have you sucking on his dick for a longer time.

just when you feel his precum in your mouth he lifts you up, getting his eyes teary due to the denied orgasm. “turn around, princess. i’m not over yet”.

chan pushes your body against the door, guiding your ass close to him and lifting your skirt. he kisses your neck before pulling his cock inside you, making you both moan at the feeling of your stretched and wet pussy. “tell me who can fuck you this good, y/n?�� he says while keeping a painful fast speed, tears forming in your eyes from the intense excitement.

“are you still thinking in minho, mh?” he says while he chokes you from behind, the other hand guiding your hips to move on his cock even harder. “tell me again, babygirl, who do you belong to?”

the feeling of his fast and hard pace, his hand holding you hard from your hips, his other hand cutting your air, his heavy breathing on your neck, his possessiveness, his moans; everything was making you feel extremely sensitive, desperate for a release of the tension that’s been building up. “you, o-only to you” you cried out in a broken voice.

his now clumsy moves showed you he was close too, getting weak to your submission. “only mine, y/n. f-fuck.” his last words whispered in your ear made you hit your orgasm. the feeling of your release all over his cock made him cum inside you, groaning your name in a completely fucked up way.

after a moment to catch up your breaths, he turned you back, facing you with a relaxed smile. “you’re still my girl after this, y/n. and i’ll always please my girl.”

[tartglias]

diluc, kaeya, albedo and childe when they’re in love

“ahh ok i just discovered ur blog and this is my very first ever request to a blog. so uhm can i req diluc, kaeya, albedo & childe headcanons on what they'll do when they're in love? like, will their attitude change when they're around the reader HAHAHA it's ok if u remove a character <3 if u don't want to write it feel free to ignore hehe”

Diluc

Even though you both decided to keep the relationship away from the public eye, it’s not shocking that certain people come and ask if you can deliver a message to Diluc. It tends to be Kaeya or even Jean, whenever the Knights of Favonius are too busy to handle something a little too dangerous. Sometimes it’s even Venti, trying to persuade you to convince Diluc to lower the dandelion wine price.

Whoever the person is, they come to you because they know that Diluc has a soft spot for you. If something catches your eye, expect it on your doorstep the following day. He loves to spoil you, to the point in which you have to tell him to stop gifting you things, and that his love is and will always be enough.

And obviously, they know that if someone can convince him of doing something, that someone is you. It’s amusing how the normal situation switches when it comes to you. If Kaeya approaches him and asks for a favor, expect a very angry Diluc rolling his eyes and turning around, completely dismissing him while trying to not make a scene in front of you and the other costumers at the tavern. But, if it’s you who delivers the message, he just sighs and meditates it, eventually giving in. You see him smile slightly once you quickly kiss his cheek and thank him.

“Why do you always decline these requests but accept them once I ask you?” You once asked, looking up to face him as you cuddled him in bed. His hair was messy and untied, but he still looked beautiful, specially under the moon light.

“Because you’re not annoying” he simply said, caressing your cheek. You stared at him, unconvinced. This earned you a soft laugh from the man beneath you.

“I don’t know, I just can’t say no to you. Which is funny because now everyone knows you’re my weakness” He said.

It was then and there that he understood how much you meant to him. You could ask him to pick up every single Cecilia flower in Mondstadt and he would not hesitate to do it. It was dangerous, and he knew that, but his feelings were too strong.

“Kaeya will definitely use this for-“ “I love you” he said, interrupting you. Your eyes widened and a small gasp left your lips. It was the first time he said the big “L” word, maybe the first time in his life.

“I love you too” you whispered, still in awe from his previous confession.

He kissed you deeper than ever before, transmitting every single feeling he had into the kiss. You meant the world to him. He was in love.

The rest of the night was filled with quiet “I love you”s and cuddles, eventually falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Kaeya

One thing that helped him understand his feelings for you was that he could just be himself.

His past forced him to wake up and put on a facade as the flirty Cavalry Captain that had every person in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger. But you were different. When he was with you, he was Kaeya. No fancy titles, no social etiquette. Just Kaeya. Not only he felt comfortable enough to be himself around you, but you also seemed to like his true self as well. And that’s how he realized.

After long days filled with commissions and some paperwork, he would come home exhausted only to find you already waiting for him. Without need for words, he would wrap his arms around your waist and hide his face on your neck after leaving a small trace of kisses.

“Long day?” you asked as you gently hugged him, untied his hair and started brushing it with your fingers. He would reply with a small “hm” before looking up and kissing your lips.

This sight could confuse an outsider, since Kaeya, with his oh so flirty social title, is usually the one calling out for you or keeping his hands on you at any moment. Kaeya is not afraid to show his love to the world, and he makes that very clear in public. Yet, this sight made him look vulnerable, and that was something he reserved just for your eyes. You made his walls fall down, you made him vulnerable in the best way possible. He felt at peace when he was with you, and that feeling used to be so foreign to him due to the secrets of his past. But here he was, in your arms as he rambled about his day without care in the world.

His attitude towards you in public never changed much, always finding his way to make you swoon and fluster you. He loves to let everyone know that he is yours and you are his. But, once the doors close behind him, he would let his guard down completely with you. He would cling to your body as he seeks for advice or talk about his worries.

“I think that it’s best to ignore Pallad from now on since he always gets-“ you started saying, but noticing how Kaeya was looking at you made you lose your trail of thoughts. “Wh- Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You make me feel better about myself” Kaeya said, snuggling closer to you. He let out a chuckle when he heard you mutter a “huh?”

“You make me feel at peace, and I haven’t felt like that in a long while”

Albedo

Relationships were kind of new to Albedo, he wasn’t certain about the right way to show affection. But one thing he was sure about was that every time you came to visit him in his research room he felt funny inside. Funny in a good way, he felt a sudden urge to hold your hand or make you smile. 

To understand this feeling more, he started doing research on couples in Mondstadt. Was he the only one that felt this way at the sight of someone he cherished? Or was this the beginning of him becoming a monster and destroying the city of freedom at last? Lucky for him, he realized that it was considered normal to smile whenever you see your s/o. 

While he was doing his research, Klee appeared holding one of her treasures. She wanted to show Albedo her newest creation, but instead she found him staring at some old couple sitting by a fountain. She thought it was a strange sight. “What are you doing?” she asked, startling him. “Research” he simply said. “On old people? Why don’t you do a research on me? I’m young! And I have treasures!” “I don’t think you can be of use in this research” he said, sighing. 

It took Klee a while to understand what was happening, but when she did she started giggling uncontrollably. Albedo just stared at her wondering what was wrong with the child. “Albedo are you in love?”

Love, such a strange concept. He read about it, and now that Klee mentioned it, he realized that it made sense. He felt funny every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, and even more when he saw the blush on your face after complimenting you. He realized that the “funny” feeling happened because he loves you. He loves when you visit him, he loves when you ask him questions about his research and when you offer to help him. He loves you.

He immediately started searching for you, he felt the sudden urge to see and tell you about this discovery. Once he found you, he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. You looked beautiful, and you weren’t even trying. You just came back from a commission and your hair was messy, and he noticed that your clothes were a bit dirty too. Yet you looked mesmerizing to him. 

“Albedo! I was on my way to visit you!” You greeted him once you saw him, kissing his cheek. 

“I made a new discovery today, dear.” He said, taking your hands in his. “I discovered that I’m in love with you”

Childe

If there’s something Childe is gonna do, is spoil you to no end. Similar to Diluc, if he noticed that something caught your eye for more than 3 seconds, expect it by your doorstep soon. And don’t even try to stop him, he just won’t listen.

Since he has to go away for weeks due to his line of work, he wants to spoil you so you don’t forget him. Not that you could anyways, you always thought of him and even prayed for his safe return. When he comes back, expect little souvenirs from his travels and stories he may or may not exaggerate a tiny bit.

He loves whenever you wear things he gifted you, and loves to tease you about it. “May I know who got you that beautiful necklace dear?” he would ask with a smirk on his face. “You, Childe” “That’s right, the best for my favorite person in the world”

But his love doesn’t come in material things only, he also loves to spend time with you. There are times that he has to go away for long periods of time, and after a few weeks he starts missing you so much he just has to send someone to pick you up and bring you to him. On those occasions he makes sure to do everything he has to do in the morning so he could spend the afternoon exploring with you.

His line of work is dangerous, and you know that. There are times in which you’re exploring some ruins with him and treasure hoarders appear. In those cases he asks you to close your eyes, and only open them when he tells you to. Under no circumstance he wants you to witness this side of him he tries so much to hide.

Once it’s over, he would reach to you gently and tell you to open your eyes. When you do, the sight in front of you breaks your heart. He was alright, not a single scratch on him, but his face was filled with worry and fear. “I’m sorry” he would say, closing his eyes and taking your hand. “Why are you apologizing?” “I’m a monster” he said, not daring to look at you.

It would take you a few minutes to convince him that he actually is not a monster. Those treasure hoarders appeared out of nowhere, and threatened you. He was just protecting you. “This is what I do all the time, how are you not scared of me?” He asked. You hugged him very tight, not wanting to let go of him until every drop of fear and guilt leaves his body. “I know you would never hurt me”

He knew you were right, he could never hurt you. He may think he is a monster unworthy of your love, but he knew that he could never lay a finger on you. And as you hugged him tight in front of some random ruins you were exploring, he realized he was in love and swore to himself he would do anything to protect you.

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[softie-rain]

Meet me at the Hanging Tree

Previous chapter: Chapter seven

Pairings: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Series Warnings: Murdering, described death and violence, suicide, death for natural causes such as starving, hypotermia, dehydratation and wounding infection.

Series Summary: Panem, governed by President Magnus, is getting ready for the 75th Hunger Games. It's in this Memory Edition that the reader will learn how far one can go for the loved one, even if that could bring her to certain death.

Chapter eight: Feelings

Summary: y/n has to made an important decision: following her instinct or her heart?

a/n: i know it's so short BUT i wanted to update, plus from next week (or so) if God answer my prayers, I'll have more free time to write (whitch i don't really have rn) and I'll be back with a serious update.

also i wanted to specify I'm writing Warren inspiring myself from the comics, not the movies, so he's actually nice here

Lorna Dane wasn't a sentimental person. Never was, never would have been one. 

So when she saw Petet running away chased by Bobby from district 6 her first thought was to let him die. Better for me. She thought. Still, she decided to follow them anyway.

Hidden behind a tree, she observed the scene. Bobby was giving her his back, as Peter had stopped for a break. Did he actually think he lost him?

"Well well well. I must say, I'm honored I'm the one who will get to kill the President’s son." 

She heard Bobby say. "Look, think about it. Wouldn't it be good to have me on your side? Imagine how many sponsors that could get." Peter answered after a few minutes. Smart move, she'd give him that. But not enough since she knew how Peter wouldn't survive more than one day in the Arena. What was happening in that moment was just the proof of it.

"Hm." Was he actually considering his offer of alliance? God, they were both idiots. She should just jump out and kill them both. She could, she knew she could. 

But she stayed still, hidden.

"No, thank you." He finally said. "Besides, I think I'd have more chances of winning with you out of the way." Woah. He really had no idea who he had in front of him did he.

 "Sorry for your sister, but you have to go, Magnus." And he threw himself on Peter. But in the same moment, Lorna ran towards the boys and stabbed Peter's attacker in the back. 

He didn't even have the time to realize what happened that Lorna's arms were around him, blocking him from doing any moves, and her knife was on his throat, slicing it right in front of Peter.

Blood covered Peter's face, who was literally petrified. Too scared to touch his face and feel the crimson liquid, too scared to run away because Lorna would one hundred percent catch him, too scared to check his hands, probably bloody as well. 

The cannon went off, and the President’s son was speechless. Lorna ignored him, moved the body away from where they were and started to look for wood to light a fire- he assumed. 

"Aren't you gonna ask why I'm not killing you?" She said, and honestly, she hoped he wasn't going to. Because she didn't know the answer either.

Lucky for her, he shook his head. "I'm just glad you saved my life." Lorna gave him a short nod and kept working on the fire. "You think lighting a fire it's a good idea?" She rolled her eyes. 

"I'm not lighting a fire. I'm making a trap for a rabbit or something. I suppose you're hungry?" Peter nodded slowly. "It'll get dark soon. Where did you sleep last night?"

The boy looked up. "I didn't. I climbed a tree but without rope I would have fallen." The other nodded, understanding. 

He was terrified of her. But he understood that for now, she was the best option he had of surviving. He didn't trusted her, that was sure- yet he didn't object when she said she wouldn't have slept that night -but he didn't had many other ideas at the moment. 

When the night finally came, they had caught a small squirrel which was barely enough for the two of them. When, during the national anthem, Bobby's face appeared in the sky, he had to admit he was feeling relieved. He knew he should feel bad about him, about his family. But a part of him couldn't help but feel glad that it was that boy who died, and not him. 

~~~ 

She harshly shook Darwin awake. "C'mon, get up sleepy head." He grunts. "You could be nicer, you know?" She didn't answer him and turned her back to him.

Truth was, she was angry. Angry because she was so nervous about Peter being dead, she almost passed out when she didn't see his face in the sky. 

She should be glad he's alive, and she is. But why does this boy have such a strong effect on her? She's not one who refuses her feelings, not one of those "I don't need boys in my life, I'm strong and independent" woman. 

Well, she kind of is. But she also knows her weakness. And she's just hoping Peter isn't one of hers. When she first arrived to Capitol City, she was terrified of murdering someone, she still is. But at least she knew she'd always choose herself over the others. Would it be the same now? 

A few minutes later she and Darwin are already back on track, off to nowhere in particular. Looking for water, probably. 

There is an unspoken tension between the two of them that she really can't understand and that, after two hours of pure silence, Darwin can't stand anymore. 

"Y/n?"

"Hm?"

"Are you going to look for Peter?" 

He doesn't know why exactly he asked this question- he sure as hell doesn't want to know the answer. He doesn't like y/n- not in that way -but he has to admit he's jealous of the Capitol boy. How she immediately trusted him, and instead it took him two days so that she could finally like his presence. 

And they're from the same district. 

Why was she so obsessed with him?

She doesn't answer, and just keeps walking. Again, he doesn't want to do this. But he has to. 

"Y/n, come on. Did I do something wrong?" He tries again, and this time she stops. She still doesn't speak though. "Hey, I-"

"Shh." 

He's taken back by her reaction. "Shh? No, we are talking about this right-" 

"Shut up Darwin!" She half-yell, and there he understands. She heard something. Or rather say, someone. 

She quickly looked around, maybe trying to spot said person. The steps and voices grew louder, and now Darwin hears them too. He grabs her hand and hides behind some thick bushes that hopefully will cover them.

They kneel and wait for the voices to manifest themselves, and they don't have to wait for long. 

"I swear Kurt, I can't believe you let her go like that." Scott Summers said, clearly annoyed by the other behaviour. "I didn't! She was just very smart- and small too!" 

Ororo rolled her eyes, and turned to face the boy. "Listen up, Wagner. I don't care if you're from district two or whatever. The only reason you're still alive is that Rogue here seems to care about you- for some reason- so try to make yourself useful. 

She raises her sword to his neck, threatening him with it. "So if we see that girl from 6 again, or anyone else, you kill them on the spot. Is that clear?" 

She observes him up and down for a second, then drops the sword and keeps walking, followed by a smirking Scott. Rouge doesn't express herself and follows right after, but y/n could swear she saw a hint of pity for her friend. Or, according to Peter, brother. 

The sadness on Kurt's face is evident, and she almost feels bad for him. 

"Don't worry about it." Another voice says, a deeper one. "They just want to win, like everyone else. And they just can't seem to understand that not everyone is a murdering machine, here." The voice belongs to Warren Warrington. 

Kurt doesn't know how to respond to that, so he just goes after his group, followed by Warren. 

Once they're sure they left, Darwin and y/n come out of their hiding spot. "Woah. That was close." She nods, and leans on a close tree. 

"You've done nothing wrong Darwin." She says, answering his previous question. "And yes, I want to find Peter. But I'm scared. What if I end up like him?" She asks, referring to Kurt.

"What if I won't be able to strike the final shot when it's time?" Darwin slowly approaches her. "You're strong. You can do it. But don't be ashamed to feel fear. Like Mr. Warrington said, not everyone here is a murdering machine." 

She surprises herself by chuckling at that, and quickly recompose herself. "I guess you're right. Let's find some water, shall we?" He nods and walks behind her as she starts to walk again. 

She doesn't know why she told Darwin the truth. But after, it didn't hurt that much to be honest about her feelings for once. Didn't it?

tags: @raincoffeeandfandoms @pappachismoth

[helpimhyperfixating]

Sneak Attack In Morioh - Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 1767

The Speedwagon Foundation had silently snuck you into Morioh on the same boat as Mr. Joestar. The only difference was no one was awaiting your arrival. Spending the entire time in the hull, you waited and bided your time until you could silently and unnoticeably slip off board and into Morioh.

There was something going on in S-city and since Morioh was located not too far from it, you had been put on the same boat, only to travel to S-city at night.

That was the plan at least.

Slipping from the hull onto the deck, you looked over the docks, only to freeze in your steps. The one person you didn't want to encounter in your trip through Morioh was standing right there, looking out at sea.

Jotaro Kujo, your longtime friend.

You and him had been through hell and back together. First in high school, then fighting DIO, then college and other roaming Stand users; you went through it all with him. So, if he knew you were here and where you were going, he would either try to stop you, or want to come with you. Neither were a viable option at the moment. If he were to spot you, his stubbornness and persuasive abilities would certainly mean your stealth mission would end. And so you immediately brought out your Stand, manipulating the light and making yourself invisible.

You knew Jotaro knew your Stand better than anyone else. Almost as well as you did. So you knew you had to hightail it out of there before he figured out you were there, despite the fact that you were near invisible to the naked eye.

With a quick move you hopped off the boat and stayed low as you ran, making near to no noise as you got out of there, Jotaro never moving from his spot by the water.

- - - -

Running through the streets, you looked behind yourself only to barrel straight into someone.

The sudden impact caused you to lose concentration and your Stand dissipated, fading back into your body after releasing the invisibility.

"Ow." You whined childishly as you had landed harshly on your butt. Looking up, you saw a man with green hair and stylish clothing. His face held an expression of shock before it turned more serious, glaring at you - or more precisely, where your Stand had been.

Immediately getting up you looked at him with slightly widened eyes. He was most definitely a Stand user.

Taking note of his stance, you jumped into a defensive pose. And you were right to, for not even a second later, the man jumped forward.

"Heaven's Door!"

A Stand popped out from him but you were faster. Jumping backwards, you vaulted onto your hands and pushed yourself as far away as possible, summoning your Stand to send a glare of light at him and blind him so you could run away.

You had no time for this right now, if you weren't at the train station in 4 minutes you'd miss the train and have to wait until the morning for another, meaning missing your target and also being at risk of being discovered by those in Morioh. And so you booked it.

- - - -

Eight hours. That was all it took for you to complete the mission you were given. Someone had stolen important research from the Speedwagon Foundation and you were tasked with bringing it back. When you arrived at the scene, relief washed over you to see they had not been able to crack the lock of the briefcase where the information was in yet.

Getting only minimal injuries, mainly a knife cut on your arm from one of the scientists when you first took hold of the briefcase, you got out of there in record time without setting off any further alarms or causing more uproar.

All in all, a mission well done.

And now here you were, handing the briefcase over to the people of the Speedwagon Foundation on the boat.

"Thank you, Miss L/N. We are departing in about an hour."

"That's alright. I think I'm going to stay here in Morioh though, you never know when you might need an extra ally. So I'm going to stay here and help Dr. Kujo."

"Very well. Stay safe."

"You too!" You waved at the man before sprinting away from the docks.

It was now about 9AM and you figured it was about time to visit your friend. A perfect plan then came into your mind. This man had never been scared or surprised. No matter what you tried, everything failed. But now? He had no clue you were here. This time it should work! Right?

Using your Stand to turn yourself invisible again, you walked into the town, only to see the green-haired man again. He was talking to a kid with a pompadour while looking very disgusted.

Curious, you snuck closer.

"I need Mr. Kujo's phone number." Holy shit you hit the Jackpot. "I encountered a Stand user last night but she disappeared almost immediately. She has to be on the loose here somewhere." Ah, that's less fortunate.

"Why don't I phone him and we can meet up."

"Oi, Josuke!"

Two boys came running up to the pair you were observing, one of them very short while the other had scars over his face.

This was getting very busy now so you moved back a little bit. Letting them all do their thing. The one named Josuke phoned Jotaro and you saw him nod a few times before hanging up and motioning the others to follow.

Taking that as your que, you silently moved along, staying far enough away to not let any possible sound you made be noticed, but close enough that you wouldn't lose them. You didn't concern yourself with their conversation because it wasn't really your business, and if they were talking about you being enemy? Well then that would have to do for now. That misconception would hopefully be cleared up soon.

Following them for twenty minutes, you reached a hill and all the way at the top, you could already see your target waiting there.

Making sure you stayed behind the small group of boys you had been following, you hid completely from his view to make sure he really wouldn't spot you. There were very few signs how you could see where you were when invisible, but Jotaro knew them all. So, hiding was your best bet.

As you approached though, you could feel the maniacal grin growing on your face. You were on a hill. It was prime material to jump him and push him down it. Now that had to surprise him for sure, right?

Just then, they all congregated and you focused back on the here and now.

After sharing a few greetings, the green haired man got straight to the point. "Last night I encountered a Stand user. They bumped into me and I saw their Stand. When I tried to use Heaven's Door they somehow were fast enough to jump back and escape my range before blinding me and disappearing."

"They anticipated Heaven's Door?" The short one spoke up while you walked a little backwards, positioning yourself there where you could perfectly have a running start at the man in white. There was a gap between the green haired man and the one named Josuke for some reason but it provided you with a perfect path right towards your target.

"They must have. So it is safe to bet they know of our abilities. And now they're just roaming around, somewhere out there."

"Rohan." Jotaro interjected and you quickly got in a stance, ready to go. "You said they blinded you and disappeared? How?"

Knowing that if you didn't hurry you'd be exposed, you ran.

"Indeed. There was a glare of light and-" Whatever Rohan was about to say was interrupted when Jotaro suddenly flew backwards, the exact Stand user they had been talking about appearing out of thin air, having tackled the marine biologist.

Jotaro let out a noise of surprise, summoning Star Platinum and using the World mid-air before looking down to see you, a giddy yet evil grin on your face.

The utter surprise at seeing you actually here caused him to have no time left to do anything else so when time started moving again, he just fell down, making contact with the hill as he started rolling down it together with you.

"Mr. Jotaro!"

"Mr. Kujo!"

"Ah!"

Several shouts of surprise rang out as the two of you barrelled down the hill but you quickly came to a stop, you on top of Jotaro and laughing while Jotaro was on the bottom still a little stunned.

Quickly sitting up so you were sitting on his stomach, you pumped your fists in the air, shouting. "Fucking gottem!!!"

The Duwang, who had been running down the hill to reach the two of you, stopped in their tracks, seeing such a dumb yet lighthearted display.

They were even more surprised when Star Platinum appeared and lightly pushed you to the side, causing you to face plant in the grass while Jotaro stood up, completely unharmed.

"Oi, Jotaro that was mean!" You said as you lifted your face from the grass.

"It's your own fault." Was all he said back as he dusted himself off before looking over his back at his coat and sighing loudly. "You ruined my coat."

"Hehe, sorry. But hey, admit it, I got you! Surprised to see me here?" You waggled your eyebrows.

"Consider me confounded." He deadpanned and you pouted. "Josuke, do you mind?" He turned to the pompadour kid and said kid seemed to snap out of his stupor, stepping forward and bringing out his Stand for Jotaro, never really taking his surprised eyes off of you.

You watched the Stand remove all the green grass stains from his coat and softly 'ooh'ed at it, in awe by the Stand.

"Alright, who are you?" Rohan then glared at you and you squeaked a little at the hostility in his look.

"This is Y/N L/N, an old friend of mine." Jotaro introduced you, motioning his hand to you.

Slyly smiling to yourself, you grabbed onto his hand, making him turn his head to face you and sigh, getting your meaning as he pulled you up from the ground without any visible effort.

"Friend?!" Josuke exclaimed in shock while you let go of Jotaro's hand, dusting yourself off.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"