#and elegant curling... plants? oh wait. that used to be a person

[dinnerthyme]

[suuuupernovaaa]

The Book Seller - Azriel x F!OC (Part 1/3)

Summary: Azriel meets his mate at long last, thanks to Nesta’s reading habits.

Content Warnings: None

Part 2, Part 3

The package arrived just before closing on a Saturday, hours after one of my favorite customers, The High Lady’s sister, had been in to check on it. Three books I’d recommended to her, an ancient romance between warrior and queen.

She had been waiting for weeks for these to arrive, and now she’d have to wait two more days. I sighed, thinking of the excitement that shone in Nesta’s eyes when she’d entered my bookshop earlier that day, and set them under the desk to wait safely for her.

The bell dinged and I looked up to see a tall blonde dressed in red. Her face looked familiar, but I’d never seen her before, I thought.

“Hello!” she greeted.

“Good evening,” I nodded with a smile.

Instead of browsing, she approached my desk. “Nesta sent me to check on her books. I’m Mor.”

My jaw fell a little slack at that. Of course, this was the Morrigan. As stunning as ever, dressed in her signature red, with her blonde locks side swept. “Of course! I have them, they just arrived.”

“She’ll be thrilled, she talks about them non-stop. Not to me but, you know,” she said with a wink, and all I could do was smile, because I did not know. Did Mor not like Nesta?

“She actually asked me to bring you to the house if they were ready,” Mor said, and I blanched.

“What?”

“Asked for a personal delivery! Of course, you don’t have to. But, you could join us for dinner, if you want.”

Us. Did she mean, the High Lord and Lady? Their inner circle? The handsome warriors, Feyre’s sisters, everyone? The thought had my normally tan cheeks turning pale.

I ran my hands over my pale green dress. It was very simple, something for work, flattering but unthreatening.

Morrigan smiled at me in a disarming way. “Yes, please come! It’s so fun to have guests. Dinners are very informal.”

I glanced once over at her beautiful gown, and looked at her skeptically. She laughs, a beautiful, melodic sound.

“I promise. Please, join us.”

“Oh, sure,” I replied a little shakily, and grabbed Nesta’s books, carefully packaged under my desk in brown paper tied with twine. “Let me just close up.”

I stepped around my wide wooden desk and entered into the bowels of my store. Thousands of books surrounded us, on tall, dark shelves in front of walls painted a dark emerald green. Plants sat atop the bookshelves and between sections by genre, adding an earthy scent and feel to the space. Though books were my first love, plants and flowers were not far behind.

I went through the steps I went through every day to shut down the store, speeding a little and telling myself that tomorrow was my off day, and I could come fix any mistakes I made in my haste.

Once everything was prepared, I rejoined the High Lord’s cousin at the front door, and she beamed at me as if we had been friends for years.

“I’ll winnow us up!” she said cheerily, and extended a hand to me. My shaky palm found hers, and she winked before we disappeared.

—

The home was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Set into gorgeous red rock, we landed on a sprawling landing, with intricate flooring and a beautiful view of our beloved city below.

“Wow,” I said with a sigh, looking down at where we came from moments ago.

Mor, surely used to such a breath taking view, waved me on towards the large archways that led into a very formal looking dining room. Tall ceilings. Stone and marble everywhere. It was truly stunning.

I glanced down again at my appearance, and shuddered. I hadn’t even thought to freshen my face or tie my unruly curls back into a braid or bun. I surely fit in more with the serving staff than those I would be dining with.

My heart thundered in my chest as I followed the blonde into the elegant dining room. A few people were present already, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see Nesta next to the table, standing and talking with her mate, Cassian. I had met him once or twice, when he stopped to pick something up for Nesta.

They turned to see Mor, and Nesta’s normal scowl turned to an almost smile when she saw me, package in hand.

“Holly!” she said warmly, walking to close the gap and meet me. “Thank you for making a home delivery for me.”

I extended the package to her, and she noticed the shake still present in my hands. As she took the books, her hands lingered over mine for a moment, and she leaned close.

“Don’t let this group intimidate you. They are informal, and you’re my special guest.”

Cassian joined her side and smiled down wide and warm as she stepped back with her books.

“Nesta must be your favorite customer, for you to come all this way,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

I smiles back at him, glad for Cassian’s natural talent to put anyone at ease.

“She is, actually. We share a taste in books, and hardly anyone else takes my recommendations so readily as your mate,” I replied, and Nesta gave me another small smile.

Footsteps alerted us to more joining, and my nerves became alight again as I looked to the eastern entrance and saw three figures entering.

I was at a loss for what to do when I saw my High Lord and Lady enter, trailed behind by the infamous shadowsinger.

Though I knew this group is a part of their people, frequenting our town and shops and night life, they were still our leaders - still something else, above us, and my spine stiffened, even though the entered with wide smiles and relaxed shoulders.

As they approached, I bowed, and Cassian laughed.

“No need,” said the High Lord in a deep, silky tone. “Nesta speaks of you, well, more than she speaks of almost anyone.”

I looked up to meet his deep blue gaze to see warmth and welcome there. At his side stood Nesta’s sister, their son in her arms. 

“Thank you for joining us,” Feyre said warmly, and the baby, nearing toddler, nuzzled his head into his mother’s shoulder.

They looked resplendent, the two of them together, and I was again at a loss for words. We owed so much to the people in these room, and I felt unworthy of being here.

“It’s truly my honor. I… thank you both,” I said, hoping they read the meaning in my eyes.

The baby, jet black hair like his father and a regal nose like his mother, lunged for me then, nearly leaping from his mother’s arms. She gasped, and I scooped him up on instinct, after years of being an aunt to my sibling’s children.

“Oh hello!” I cooed, and he put a chubby hand on my cheek, staring into my eyes.

Nesta laughed. “Well, Nyx likes her.”

I turned to Rhysand and from behind him, the Shadowsinger stepped around, joining our small circle.

I was over come with how utterly breathtaking he was. Tall and slender, though his black shirt and pants revealed the taught muscles beneath. His golden eyes were shining as he stared at the babe in my arms, and I could look nowhere but at his beautiful, golden-brown face.

His eyes rose from the child to meet mine, and I felt it then.

A thread. A tug. From his chest to mine. A calling - like to like.

Mate to mate.

His mouth fell open, a breath escaping, and I clutched the baby to me to stop from dropping him.

“Mate,” Azriel whispered, and everyone around us fell silent.

[viilpstick]

Choose your fighter

No but fr this was way too funny to me bc I realized somehow all of these are my oc x canon and I'm wondering if u think they apply to urs bc if so that's gonna be so funny to me

RAMBLE ALLERT!! I AM BORED. AND YOU GAVE ME SMTH TO DO. RAMBLE AHEAD.

1- Forehead kiss: Viuna

Vil would take his hands place carefully on Yuuna’s forehead and with that give her a kiss in her forehead with his lips curled into a smile, and she doesn’t discourage any bit, she places her hand on his waiting for more than just one kiss. May he forehead be covered in lipstick! She will be willingly to do this sacrifice… But, Yuuna would reattribute whenever he is sat down somewhere not too public, she would stay in her tip toes and “muaw!” his forehead. If he is busy, she will wait on his side; until he turns to her and ask if she needs anything. In my head forehead kisses are a way to display a sweet and somewhat elegant affection <3

2- Neck kiss: Malline & Felcy

Neck kisses are like your face fitting into the person’s neck. You start to smell the intoxicating scent and then place a soft kiss.

When Adeline does it, it means she had a long day. And all that can make her feel better is placing her head in Malleus’ neck, and then her lips curl up into a tiny smile and then: kisses all over his neck marked down by her lipgloss. Of course, the prince won’t let her go until he give her the same treatment, the kisses may trail off to her shoulder, but because she is too damn perfect. Is nothing perverted. Is just a display of lipstick and lipgloss art in your partner’s neck!

For Lacy and Fellow, is more like during a cuddle session. Something that happens when he wake up after a short nap, but, uh-oh! Lacy still not awake. What is he supposed to do? Wait, he found the solution! Why not plant thousands of kisses in her neck until she feels tingly and wake up. Yep, seems about right. He may occasionally bite if she still don’t wake up, but meh. He also does it when she is cooking and he hugs Lacy from behind. Lacy does reattribute? Of course she does. With a devious smile and everything, she does it when they are cuddling on the couch awake. Is sweet in general.

3- Hand kiss; Maizul & Adriano

For wrist kisses is something close to a prank… Wait, let me explain. To take other’s wrist and brought it up to your lips you must make it not seem clear what your first intentions are, maybe you pretend on going to a hand shake and then, a kiss is placed in their hand. How sweet.

Azul would do it quite often with the princess. Every time she leaves work, he can’t forget to knowledge Maizie for her hard work, after all, so he comes up to her and pull her for a hand shake. What the mermaid didn’t expected was her partner to pull up her hand so gently and kiss it and then kiss her knuckles. He could do it a million times, she still would feel dizzy. How or when she does it? Well, a princess like her was taught manners. So, when they go on a date, she kisses his hand immediately, and then she pulls his arm so Azul can get closer for a lips kiss. Young love, hm?

Although, Adriano does not have a canon partner yet. The gentleman is a charmer. He would do it, whenever he gets the chance to hold hands with them. He pulls their hand awhile walking with fingers intertwined and kisses the soft skin of his partner, only to turn to them with a grin and a lovefool look and tease his own partner as if not completely head over heels.

4- The knife thing; Floyce <- Of course

Well, maybe is not an actual knife in the room with us. But the tension has the sound of a clear cut. The tension hangs in the air with a thin rope, to worsen things… Is impossible to not stare at each other’s lips.

Floyd teases, annoys, make Grace’s life ACTUAL hell. But, when she gets mad and confronts him, some switch turns up on him and out of nowhere in the worse moment, in the middle of the silence and staring at each other’s eyes… He gets dizzy at how pretty she is. Of course he has noticed before, but those moments where he can only hear her breath; something changes. Floyd stares at her, as if he just lost his words… Well, not quite, he is more unsure how to deal with the urge to pin her down and kiss her. And his eyes don’t let him hide that. Whoever, when is Grace in his position is a little more hard to know if she wants or not. She doesn’t stare at his lips, she looks to his eyes, Floyd’s eyes. As if encouraging him to have the actual guts to kiss her even when mad. She needs him to do so. And you quite don’t know how, but he does ends up pinning her against a wall and kissing her. The urge needed it’s relief…

feel free to reblog it and give ur interpretation of your oc x canon mah <33 I would love to read it. Sorry, ik its long :,)

[jaeminscoffee]

Colours | X. Dj

Pairing» Xiaojun x f!Reader

Genre» Angst, Fluff, Smut (suggestive)

Warning(s)» Friends to lovers trope, Xiaojun kinda loses his temper but that subdues, heavy makeout session, groping, public sex, fingering, implied sex towards the ending (open imagination since the request was kinda vague), steamy, our boi dejun get's flustered by Y/n's bubbly personality. I think that's about it. Lmao not proof read, so it will contain a hell lot of mistakes.

Wc; type» 2.06k ; oneshot

Red.

All Xiaojun could see is Red. 

To have the person who dragged him all the way to some stupid reunion party against his will to abandon him in the first five minutes with the pathetic excuse of "I'll go grab us some drinks" only to never return back to his aid had Xiaojun boil with anger. 

To have you smiling and laughing, clinging and grasping at a man he's never seen before is Infuriating. 

To see you so smitten by a guy other than Xiaojun had him seeing crimson with comically visible smoke coming out of his ears, arms shaking, jaw set rigid with palms growing moist from all the clenching and unclenching. 

Xiaojun felt yellow. 

He felt insecure at how the man before you just seemed to be much to your taste. 

He felt unsure of whether or not he should risk walking up to you and talk the talk he'd wanted to let out since the day you stood up for the lad. And inevitably, and much to his pleasure, stood by him in the process till date. 

He felt that maybe, just maybe, he's not worthy of having a girl as astounding as you. And all that sliver of hope he'd held onto only seemed to be slipping away from his grasp. 

Xiaojun felt blue. 

The dreading feeling that he'd lose all that the two of you built until where your relationship stands today with a single mistake bubbles inside of him. 

Watching you from afar with a man potentially your dream guy just made him feel blue. Numb, and as though a part of him was slowly chipping away. 

The immense feeling of sheer sadness had him want to turn on his heels and back out to what he thinks "get out of your way" and to prevent further breakage of his heart. 

Until he saw red again. 

Watching you throw yourself at this stranger, arms tightly wrapped around the bastard's waist, hips joint, with his hands running through the soft curls of your tresses, "who does he think he is?" 

How entitled must this man think he is to expand the white between the two of you? You and Xiaojun were meant to be and he'd only flick your head and call you stupid if you ever said otherwise. 

Eyebrows furrowing as Xiaojun followed each of your actions. How your chin tucks and you hide your face in this 'dream bastard's' chest, arms idly resting on his torso, your hair covering your face from all the moving around. He kept watching you;

Until your gaze met. 

Time seemed to stand still, in a much cliché fashion. Seeing the expressionless look on his face seemed to have clicked the power on button somewhere in your head.

You'd unintentionally abandoned the man you promised you wouldn't. 

Almost as though Xiaojun could see the wheels turning inside your head, he sneers at you, immediately turning around to walk into a corner the moment he saw you approaching him through the crowd filled with hookers, stoners, and people too bored for their own good. 

"Jun, wait up!" 

He could hear your shrill voice call out to him the moment he rounded a turn. He didn't turn, however, mind clouded red, crimson and ebony with jealousy, envy and all mixed emotions, he felt dizzy. 

You catching up to him only seemed to worsen his dizziness, "Jun! I-i'm so sorry i forgot about you, it's just my b-" 

"Forgot about me, huh?" Xiaojun's voice comes gruff, hoarse from the inadequate usage. He doesn't bother turning around to look at you, wouldn't have done much anyways, the lighting of the area so dim, he can barely make out your silhouette. 

Besides, his vision is clouded with black, wouldn't have done much anyways. 

"No no, not forget forget about you! I just got caught up with my b-" 

"boyfriend? Y/n, are you oblivious to not know how  I feel? Am I vague? Oh I'm sorry, am I not obvious enough?" Through the darkness, you could see Xiaojun's shoulder shake, his tone strained, his head hung low, avoiding your gaze the closer you got. "Jun, what are you talking about?" 

You seemed to be feeling grey, confused. 

"Your boyfriend, Y/n." 

"Jun, boyfriend-!" "I like you damn it!" you flinch as he abruptly turns around, the red building inside him so rapidly that it inevitably ends up exploding.

"You know I like you, no, I love you. Why else would you have been waltzing around acting like a pliant, docile girlfriend?" The grey intensifies within you the faster Xiaojun talks quick strides towards you. 

Your silence and the unconscious stepping back seemed to plant a seed of yellow within him again. "You led me on. You seemingly ignored my feelings. Because you obviously know I like you, don't you?" The red appears again, mixing with the intense yellow, blending into a terrific orange as Xiaojun closes the space between the two of you with newfound confidence. 

"You like me.." you whisper, your palms pressing onto the greasy wall behind you where Xiaojun had you cornered, your eyes shaking in ecstasy. He likes you, no. He loves you.

"You need to a whole 'nother level of airhead if you think i view you merely as a friend-" Somewhere in your head, you know he's talking to you, but his voice seems to numb out in the beautiful crimson that's taking over your heart, with a slight mix of elegant yellow and purple so faint it could come off as violet. "You like me!" you look up at him. 

"-Yes, Y/n, keep up god damn! But do you care? Of course not! You go get yourself a boyfriend while i wallow in self pity-" 

"Oh god you like me!" you bounce with all the vibrant colors swirling inside you, your arms lifting up to wrap around the lads neck, who jumps at the unexpected action, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and slight fury.

"Does it matter, Y/n? Your boyfriend's probably looking for you now-" 

"Jun, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend!" you pull him down to be leveled with you, looking him intensely in the eye as you watch the familiar grey dominate his irises. 

"Th-Then, that man you were all over..? You cannot possibly tell me he's not your boyfriend" he seems to be fighting to hold onto the red fury as it slowly turns into a rosy flush. "The man I was all over..?" you question seemingly to yourself, as the wheels turn  in your head once again until the entire process comes to an abrupt halt at the realization hitting you. 

"Jun, that's my brother! My cousin!" 

The look on the lad's face is so incredulous that you break out into a cheshire grin, "you were jealous of my brother?" you giggle, as you playfully punch at his chest which deflates as he radiates bright crimson, skin heated. 

"o-okay brother. brother, alright. Though, I still don't stand a chance, do i?" Xiaojun questions, stammering with embarrassment while being overcome with a sudden sense of blue. Sure you didn't have a boyfriend, doesn't change the fact that you're way out of his league. 

You stare into his eyes, hoping that would somehow convey the answer to his question, but the more you just look at him, the more the light in his eyes seems to dim out. 

Offering him a soft smile, which he doesn't seem to notice, you catch him off guard when you lift his head up, tilting it while pressing your lips onto his ever so gently. Providing a soft peck as you sigh in ecstasy. 

You let your lips linger a little longer, silently pouring out your heart into the soft action of affection before hesitantly pulling away. 

"Does that answer your question?" your gentle voice pulls Xiaojun out of his haze. 

You kissed him. You like him. He stands a chance with you. 

That seems to snap the last bit of self restraint in him as he captures your lips once again with much fervor. Molding his lips with yours, all signs of softness thrown out of the window as his hands circle your hips, pulling you flush against him. 

The feeling of your heat encircling him makes him groan into the kiss, making a wave of shock run through your spine. The hairs on your hand standing proud as you play with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling at it. 

Biting down on your lips, Xiaojun positively earns a moan from you. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours, easily dominating your tongue as you slowly, subconsciously start grinding against him, making him squeeze tight at your hips. 

"I.. Love you.. Jun" you say in between the kiss as his hands travel further south, groping at your ass, pulling you in, supporting your grinds on his crotch.

"Fuck.." he sighs at the words, slithering wet kisses from your lips to the edge of your lips, moving onto the jaw before choosing to nip at the skin, "say it again, doll" he rasps onto your neck, while his hands sneakily makes its way under the flimsy material of your skirt, thumbing at your growing wetness while staring intently at you, silently asking for the green flag to proceed.

"I.. I love you. I love you, Xiaojun!" you nod at him while pouring all your adoration onto the lad, you'd waited too long for the two of you to take it slow from now on forth. 

Xiaojun moves your panties to the side, immediately finding the bundle of nerves, pressing nimbly onto your clit, basking in your little whimpers and shakes. 

He wastes no time to draw figure eights onto the sensitive bud, cooing at you while marking his territory on your neck, your jaw, the naked skin of your shoulders and collarbone, exposed by the off shoulder top you'd chosen for the evening. 

"I love you, too, princess. You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment." he moans onto your neck while sliding in a slender digit into your wet cavern. 

You grow frantic, soaking in all the emotions Xiaojun is pouring onto you with his actions and words, being pulled close to your high, embarrassing faster than you'd appreciate.

"You've no idea how many times I'm imagined taking you until all you can remember is my name, not even yours" he starts moving his digits after fitting in another one of his long fingers, the slick pouring out of your cunt pooling onto his palms as your moans come out as squeals. Your brain is hazing with a pleasant pink, blue and red. All of the emotions overwhelming you.

"You look gorgeous, doll face" he kisses softly at the side of your lips when you start clenching around his fingers, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

"J-Jun.." you sigh, face flush with content, legs shaking, your form only being held up by his strong grip, his intense gaze making you feel so small, so vulnerable, all the tell-tale signs of your orgasm nearing you present as he accelerates his fingers, clearly catching onto the fact that you'd come undone any second. 

"You gonna come for me, pretty? Am I making you feel good?" he grunts while nibbling at the lobe of your ears, digits moving so fast inside your calls that you can hear the squelching obscene voices of your walls over the loud music playing in the background, his palm constantly rubbing against your clit. 

"Feel's so g-good, Jun.." You grip onto his forearm to keep you grounded as your orgasm washes over you. Your jaw slacks as you convulse around his fingers. Xiaojun cooing praises into your ears as he helps you ride out your orgasm, pulling you into a kiss as you push his fingers away when he slowly drives you into overstimulation. 

"Fuck, you're perfect." he stares at you with adoration while you catch your breath. Forcing yourself to step out of your daze. You smile shyly until it turns into a sly smirk as you move your hands to grab at his painfully evident dent, slowly rasping out as you move closer to him,

"Your place or mine?" 

The red never felt so satisfying to Xiaojun until now. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Fireworks Event - Lucien

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Contains heavy references to Whimsical Date!

Previous section: here

3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here 

Prior to the Carnival, there were questions posed in the Go See You feature which affects which scenario the player sees during the Fireworks Event:

Question 1: Do you still remember when we went to the amusement park previously? Could you let me know which part left the deepest impression on you?

Option A: Because it’s Professor Lucien, I pick the souvenir store.

Option B: The spinning tea cups of course~

Option C: I liked the fantasy castle.

-

Question 2: Although this is a little sudden, what do you want on a “perfect day”?

Option A: Give me as pleasant surprise.

Option B: I want to return to our most innocent selves together.

[ PART ONE PROLOGUE ]

A familiar ringtone suddenly sounds. I take out my phone, cancelling the alarm I had set early on.

MC: The fireworks display will start in 15 minutes, so let’s head to the plaza now!

I take Lucien’s hand, about to walk forward. However, he pulls me back.

MC: What’s wrong?

Lucien: Even though time is a little tight, there should still be enough time.

Seeing my puzzled expression, Lucien chuckles lightly and pinches my hand. 

Lucien: We’ll go to the place you want to go most.

[ Option A: Because it’s Professor Lucien, I pick the souvenir store. ]

Following the crisp sound of a wind chime, Lucien and I step into a souvenir store.

I didn’t expect that he’d still remember my answer from before. A wave of warmth surfaces from my heart.

When I curiously scan through the merchandise on the shelves, a few unusual keychains attract my attention.

The keychains have doodles on them, and are in the shape of alphabets. With a stirring in my heart, I select two keychains featuring the first letter of our names.

MC: The last time we came to the amusement park, we bought two dolls. This time, let’s also bring souvenirs back!

Looking at my expectant gaze, Lucien smiles in understanding, then takes the keychains from my hand.

Lucien: Keychains are very practical. They can be brought around everywhere, and...

He dangles the keychains in his hand.

The pictures on these two alphabets are the same. When I look at it next time, I’ll subconsciously think of you.

Seeing through my thoughts, my cheeks turn red.

MC: ...but this is the one I want!

I take the keychain with the letter ‘L’ from his hand.

Recollecting the experience of selecting the dolls, I deliberately mimic his words, tilting my head and smiling at him.

MC: If these two keychains represent the both of us… keeping this one with me would be more meaningful, right?

Hearing my cheeky tone, Lucien can’t help but chuckle.

Lucien: Looks like MC always learns quickly when it comes to “teasing” me. In that case, the keychain representing you will be in my care.

He pauses, the smile in his eyes receding, replaced with an insuppressible warmth.

Lucien: MC, you...

-

[ Option B: The spinning cups of course~ ]

Sorry, I couldn’t find uploads of this option T-T

-

[ Option C: I liked the fantasy castle. ]

On top of the colourful castle which has a spire, Lucien and I look down at the park’s scenery.

I didn’t expect that he’d still remember my answer from before. A wave of warmth surfaces from my heart.

Gazing at the gorgeous night scenery, I’m just about to say something, but feel an insuppressible itch climbing up the tip of my nose.

MC: Achoo--

Lucien is stunned for a moment, then furrows his brows.

Lucien: Is the wind too strong here? We should head down first to prevent you from catching a cold.

I shake my head in embarrassment.

MC: I’m fine, I’m fine. My immunity is very strong.

Despite what I said, Lucien walks behind me, pulling his coat open and encasing me in warmth.

Lucien: Feeling slightly better now?

The familiar scent surrounds me, and my heart rate subconsciously speeds up slightly. I nod.

MC: [blushing] ...mm. The last time we visited the amusement park, we didn’t get to climb the castle. This time, my wish has been fulfilled.

Perhaps noticing my nervousness, Lucien chuckles softly from behind..

Lucien: Mm. I have to congratulate this little warrior for bravely sending those monsters running.

MC: Hm? You remember that too...

A little surprised, I lift my head and look at Lucien. That was a dream I had in my childhood which I once told Lucien about.

Lucien: Of course. That dream left such a deep impression - how could I forget it?

Staring into his eyes, which are crinkled slightly, the corners of my lips involuntarily curve into a smile, and I continue from where he left off.

MC: That’s right. It was indeed an arduous and long battle.

Then, I pull his coat even tighter over myself.

MC: But in order to see my “little prince”, it’s very worth it~

From behind me, a place I can’t see, the light in Lucien’s eyes flashes slightly.

He suddenly lowers his head, leaning close to my ear, and says softly--

Lucien: MC, you...

[ PART ONE ENDING ]

“Dong-- dong--”

The melodious bell from the plaza drifts over.

Lucien and I look towards the direction of the plaza, which is already filled with people.  

Lucien: Looks like the time is just right.

His tone is unhurried, as though everything was within his expectations.

Lucien takes my hand, his action elegant, akin to an invitation. 

Lucien: MC, let’s see the fireworks together. 

-

Beams of fireworks rise rapidly into the sky, blossoming in the endless night sky.

The colour I had selected is especially bright in the night. 

Among the crowd, Lucien and I are standing towards the back, yet we’re able to take in the entire scene.

Suddenly, I tug on Lucien’s hand.

Lucien: What is it?

MC: Lucien, I just made a wish. I wish that on this day next year, we can also spend it like this.

Another firework blooms in the sky. Lucien watches me, blinking gently.

Lucien: That’s all?

MC: That’s all.

Seeing me nod ignorantly, Lucien chuckles. 

Lucien: To me, however, that’s far from enough.

MC: Oh? In that case, what’s Professor Lucien’s wish?

I deliberately show that I'm listening with all ears.

Lucien: As compared to a wish, I’m more willing to call it something that will definitely be fulfilled. On this day, whether it’s next year, or the following year, or the year after that--

Lucien: We’ll be like this, spending it together. 

Lucien takes my hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a light kiss.

Lucien: It’s an agreement.

In the next second, a warm sensation descends on my lips.

[ VIDEO OF FIREWORKS ]

[ PART TWO PROLOGUE ]

As the final firework dissipates in the sky, the amusement park starts playing its main theme song.

Although I had heard this melody so many times today, a different emotion surges from my heart this time - it’s a reminder that the amusement park is about to close.

As though he can sense my reluctance to leave, Lucien gently rubs the back of my hand.

Lucien: Come to think of it, I wanted to tell you something earlier, but was interrupted by the bell.

MC: Mm? What is it?

Lucien chuckles lightly.

Lucien: Do you still remember my question from before? Regarding what you’d want most on a “perfect day”...

[ Option A: Give me as pleasant surprise. ]

I nod.

MC: I said that I wanted you to give me a pleasant surprise.

Lucien: This requirement was a little difficult, but I still prepared something, and I hope you’ll be satisfied.

With this, Lucien takes out a gift box wrapped with a ribbon, beckoning me to open it.

Doing as he says, my eyes widen in surprise.

MC: ...it’s so beautiful!

A plant which somewhat resembles a flower rests in the box - on a dried branch, there are countless flickering and dazzling small crystals.

Lucien: This is a flower which has specially undergone chemical immersion. Because it’s been made into an artwork, there’s no need to worry about it becoming dull with time. MC, have you heard of “The Branch of Salzburg”? It was originally a normal tree branch, but as it was buried in a salt mine for a period of time, it was filled with little crystals glistening like diamonds.

Without waiting for my response, Lucien chuckles and continues.

Lucien: To me, this carnival event is like that. Before this, it was just an ordinary event, and wasn’t anything special. But having participated and experienced it with you, it has become precious along with our memories. However, I want to tell you that this isn't all.

He pauses, his voice becoming slightly more tender.

Lucien: Many details in life have become glistening diamonds because of you. Just like the beautiful crystals on The Branch of Salzburg - fine and small, yet resplendent and dazzling. This is a pleasant surprise that you’ve given me. And right now, I wish to convey this feeling to you.

Lucien encases the hand that I’m holding onto the box with into his palm, a pair of deep eyes watching me.

Lucien: I hope that as you compliment the beauty of this gift, you’re able to know...

Lucien: That this is how you’ve enabled me to see the world.

-

[ OPTION B: I want to return to our most innocent selves together. ]

MC: Of course I remember. I said I wanted us to return to our innocent selves.

Lucien: In that case, I wonder if today has satisfied your expectations?

MC: It didn’t just satisfy them - it far exceeded my expectations!

The corners of Lucien’s lips curl slightly, and he scratches the tip of my nose gently.

Lucien: But I don't think this is enough.

After saying this, he takes out a gift box wrapped with a bow.

MC: What’s this? I didn’t expect Professor Lucien to have such a feminine heart.

Faced with my teasing, Lucien chuckles wordlessly, beckoning me to open the gift box.

After opening it, I realise that there’s an antique, hand cranked music box in it.

MC: Is this for me?

Lucien: Mm. Music can regulate the cerebral cortex, and can even awaken a person’s memories, carrying the weight of people’s emotions. That is why I prepared a music box. The melody in it is the main theme song of this amusement park. In the future, as long as you play this melody, you can relive this memory, and feel the state of mind that we have right now.

I turn the handle, and the smooth music flows out slowly. The corners of my lips involuntarily curl upwards.

Lucien: Actually, I found your question very unexpected before, wondering why you’d want us to return to our innocent selves.

Lucien pauses, then continues.

Lucien: Although people often say that innocence will vanish along with the passage of time, that a day would come when we have to bid it farewell, and walk towards maturity...

Lucien: I don't think innocence and maturity are necessarily mutually exclusive. After all, I can always sense it from you.

My heart softens in an instant, but I can’t help but want to tease him for a while. I shoot him a smile.

MC: Professor Lucien is flattering me again. Also, maybe I just wanted to see your innocent side?

Lucien is stunned for a moment, then chuckles. He reaches out to pat my head.

Lucien: That won’t be necessary. Because to me, you're a part of my most innocent side. If you’re willing, I hope to accompany you through ���the most perfect day”, each and every day.

Lucien: So, remember to stay by my side always.

[ PART TWO ENDING ]

My heart is brimming with emotions which are unable to be put into words. I subconsciously take a step forward, hugging the person in front of me tightly.

He seems to freeze for an instant. But very quickly, his slender arms wrap themselves around me with the same strength.

I inhale his scent greedily and deeply, my voice trembling slightly.

MC: Thank you, Lucien. For letting me have this most perfect day.

Lucien doesn’t say anything, but he rests his chin on the top of my head.

The lights in the amusement park dim one by one. The surrounding crowd heads towards the entrance in succession. But I no longer feel reluctant to leave.

I know that even though the amusement park may be over, this memory will continue being preserved, remaining in our hearts.

Amongst the clamour of the crowd, we hug each other quietly. When the final warm yellow streetlight is left, I part with Lucien’s hug, offering him my hand happily.

MC: Let’s go too!

Lucien: Mm, let’s go home.

Our palms are pressed together tightly, as though wanting to embed every moment we’ve experienced into the lines.

The light from the path ahead is very dim. But in our hearts, we seem to own the light of the entire world.

[keigos-little-cardinal]

The Perfect Night

Keigo x y/n on the birthday boy’s special day! Just a short little drabble!

As you stood back and looked over the scene before you with a big smile on your face. The glow of the candle light illuminated the table and the meal that was laid out. Two deep red candles sat in golden holders on the surface, decorated by a white table cloth. Various red and yellow rose petals were scattered throughout the table top and the floor below.

The main course consisted of chicken, your boyfriend’s favorite, while there was a variety of side dishes that you knew he would enjoy. Now, the only thing remained was desert. From the oven where a strawberry cake was currently baking, the smell of which wafted throughout the apartment. You had enough time for it to cool and decorate. 

Now all that was left was the birthday boy.

You knew he was on patrol and more than likely at his office completing any necessary paperwork afterwards. 

A soft ding signaled that the cake was done. You rushed over to pull it out and place it on a cooling rack. Now, was the perfect for yourself to get ready. You hurried to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Since you would be decorating a cake, you chose not to get dressed right away, choosing not to ruin your clothes with icing. However, you styled your hair in simple and elegant curls and pinned back half of them, moving onto your makeup. Something simple for a simple occasion. A simple red cocktail dress was laid out as well as a pair of matching heels. If there was one color that drove him nuts it was the silky and sexy color. 

The cake had been decorated in white icing and red and gold accents with: 

Happy Birthday Keigo! 

in big red letters. Now that it was hidden underneath the cover of the cake stand, this was the time to get dressed. Your phone had buzzed during the decorating with a text from the birthday boy. 

Be home in bit, dove ;)

It was only a matter of minutes before he would arrive. 

After getting dressed you chose to leave a small trail of rose petals from the front door to the dining area. From there, you stood next to the table and waited with anticipation. You heard his keys jingle as they were inserted into the lock. 

“Baby bird,” He called out. “I’m home.” 

You could tell he went silent after that, more than likely noticing the trail. His boots tapped against the floor as he approached, and the moment he rounded the corner your face burst into a massive smile with love and adoration filling your eyes. 

“What’s this?” 

“For you, pretty bird,” You said. “Happy birthday, baby.” 

“Y/n,” You should tell his eyes were shining, whether it be from tears blooming in the corners or if it was his heart swelling. “I-” 

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ve got everything planned out. Now, go shower and change and I can explain it all.” 

When they said he was too fast for his own good, they weren’t kidding. It was a matter of record time when he was standing with you all dressed up. You moved to wrap your arms around his neck and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

“First we’ll start out with dinner,” You whispered in a tone of voice that would send a shiver down his spine. “Then we’ll move onto dessert then from there it’ll just be you and me the entire evening. We’ll settle down with one of your favorite movies and to end the night,” You carded your fingers through his hair on the back of his head. “I’ll spoil you beyond necessary with a special little treat.” 

You heard him release a shaky breath as his feathers ruffled slightly. Of all days to spoil him, his birthday was the one day you could fully go out. Sure, it was between holidays with Christmas and the New Year, it was rather difficult to shop for him. But he once told you not to worry about any gifts as you were the one thing that was the most precious to him. 

However, his birthday was a day he chose not to celebrate in the past. Being with the commission for years told him that there was no need to celebrate such a day. That was until he met you. During your first year together, your own birthday had been celebrated, but when it came to his he had told you not to worry. You, being the stubborn and determined person you were, wanted to change that. So, you started out small. And here you are today. He slowly got used to idea of celebrating his birthday. You had been by his side from that moment on and to him, you were the greatest gift of his life. 

“Come on, hummingbird,” He groaned. “You’re making me want to skip dinner and go straight to that special treat.” Sensually he rubbed small circles into your hips. 

“Ah ah ah,” You teasingly shook a finger. “Not right now. The food will get cold, now come on, let’s eat.” 

You guided him to the table and it seemed that his eyes widened slightly as the set up. He noticed the crispy and steaming chicken and part of him felt like he died and gone to heaven.

"You spoil me, y/n," He smirked. "All this just for little ol' me?"

"You deserved to be spoiled today, Keigo," You pressed a kiss to his temple before taking a seat.

If there was one thing that Keigo absolutely loved it was your cooking. If there was one way to a man's heart, it was through his stomach. You kept him well fed for a big and strong number 2 pro. You could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself by the way he was moaning and groaning through every bite.

By the time dinner was over, you moved to the kitchen real quick and grabbed the cake, placing candles in the frosting and lighting them.

As you entered the room once more, softly you sang Happy Birthday, keeping your eyes on the love of your life the entire time. Keigo's face had softened as you placed the cake down in front of him, finishing the song letting the last note gently ring out.

"Make a wish!"

He took a few seconds before blowing out the flames.

"Come here you." He grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap planting a passionate kiss in your lips.

The action has taken you by surprise but you melted into his touch as he moved his hands along your back, up and down with a gentle pressure pressed into your flesh.

"Come on," You pulled him along to the living room. "We can eat your cake while we watch your favorite movie. Go and pick one while I cut us a couple pieces."

And so he moved to do just that. When you returned, the film was on the menu screen ready to go. As you and Keigo relaxed back, you melted into his side, relaxing after putting everything together.

Oh how you spoiled and cherished this man with every fiber of your being. For one who was constantly busy with his hero work and his own agency, Keigo always made sure to make time for you and today was no exception especially since he knew how much you wanted to give a birthday he'll remember.

Tonight was just getting started.

[bangtanfancamp]

Into the Garden (JJK)

∴ masterlist

∴ series masterlist (part one of 2 )

∴ pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader

∴ word count: 5k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, dinner theater au? Lol

∴ warnings: none to speak of, eventual affection? sexual tension? Probable future make out sesh

∴ summary: It’s a Friday night out with your friends— a perfect opportunity to try out that mysterious new restaurant everybody’s talking about. Always game for new things and a good time, even you never expected to stumble upon the smart, incredibly handsome waiter you meet there who knows his flowers. Who knows where the night will take you now?

∴ vibey playlist that kept me company during writing

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“God, this place is gorgeous.” You gasped.

You felt yourself go still once you’d finally managed to push the heavy wooden doors open. Was it unreasonable to wish you lived in a restaurant if it looked like this? Because it was beautiful in here. Every corner was immaculately decorated- rich, emerald velvet in the waiting area, cognac wood floors, industrial light fixtures… each element carefully designed, but aged and warm, like maybe this place had been here forever, and you’d only just noticed it.

And the plants- there were plants everywhere, on every available surface. Shades of green wrapping and weaving around iron railing. Ivy crawling up the side of the exposed brick like nature was trying to take this luxurious place back for itself. You’d never seen anything quite like it.

This place was all anyone could talk about lately, but you’d never seen it first hand until tonight. It had been your coworker’s bright idea to get a bunch of the staff together and blow off some steam here this Friday night. She’d even wiggled her way into getting the company to pay for it by calling it a “team building experience,” a.k.a “let’s all get drunk together and moan about our problems on the boss’s dime.” You’d be skipping the alcohol tonight, but this place was a million years beyond your “guac at chipotle is a treat” personal budget and there was no way you were going to miss out on a free dinner here.

So far, no regrets as you wandered across the hardwood. You hadn’t even eaten any of the food yet, but it was already your new favorite place in the city on decor alone. And on top of that, you had something else to look forward to. Apparently, the hook here — not that it really needed one— was an upscale version of dinner and a mystery. You wondered how that was supposed to fit with this whole industrial utopia theme.

You hadn’t been to a restaurant that did a show with dinner since you saw Cinderella at a children’s dinner theater in eighth grade, but the shabby, primary colored castles of your memory clashed distinctly with the elegance of this place. The gaping imbalance made you chuckle. Sherlock dinner theater and artisanal hand glazed pottery seemed like an odd mix to you, but you were intrigued nonetheless, knowing you’d have fun whether the plot was brilliant or not.

After gawking an appropriate amount of time in the foyer, you realized you should probably check in for your group since you’d arrived first. Gliding through the Garden in search of the hostess booth, you found it hidden away beneath the shade of an almost prehistorically large fiddle leaf fig tree. You smiled up at the gargantuan plant, fingers tracing the edge of a leaf. If the millennial garden of Eden interior of the place hadn’t already been an indication, this alone reinforced what a miracle worker their main gardener must be.

Every fiddle leaf fig you’d ever owned had died many a gruesome death long before it ever even reached two feet, but this one almost brushed the exposed ceiling beams. You wished you could ask whoever was in charge here for some pointers, but they’d probably smell your plant mom failures on you from a mile away and decide not to waste their time. Plants just never seemed to like you back the way you loved them… oh well. That’s what plastic is for, you supposed.

Getting back to the task at hand, you leaned up on your toes to look for assistance, quickly noticing that the station was empty. Maybe they’re busy watering the crops, you chuckled to yourself wondering if this place really was pretentious enough to grow their own inventory-they certainly could- when you were suddenly greeted by the most stunningly handsome boy you’d ever seen.

“Hello, welcome to the Garden.” The living, breathing Adonis statue could speak apparently. You tried not to stare as he smiled back at you politely, his silky curls shagging about his face as he slid behind the hostess booth. Holy crap. Did they grow him in the back too?

He was beautiful- some undiscovered demigod with broad shoulders and a jawline so strong it could cut glass. He lifted his eyebrows pleasantly, waiting to assist. “I apologize for the wait—how may I be of service this evening?”

You couldn’t help the silly grin that spilled across your face when his wide chocolate eyes smiled your way.

“Um, Hi. I need a table for, lets see… 1,2,3,4...10 people I think?” You counted unashamedly on your fingers as the host’s lips quirked into a smile. “Oh! Actually, you know what? What am I doing—do you guys take reservations? My friend Beth might have called about us earlier?”

“Let me see…” The boy’s amused doe eyes drifted over a computer screen. You fiddled with the edges of a particularly plump succulent on the counter as you waited. “Here it is. Beth party of 10. Now usually when we have a group that big, we do offer the option of one of our private rooms. You guys would have your own separate narrative from whatever the main restaurant is doing….Would you be interested in that this evening?”

“Sure! Why not—that sounds amazing!” You answered, a bit too enthusiastically admittedly, but when his face lit up at your bubbliness, you found you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. Not when a boy who looked like that was looking at you that way, all soft around the edges. Will you be there? you wondered.

“Okay, then you’ll come right this way. Oh! And you’ll need this.” Dipping into a crystal bowl behind the counter, he fished out a crisp white piece of paper and slipped it into your hand, fingers brushing over yours as he did.

Something in your belly reacted sharply to the contact. Apparently, the electric crackle affected him too. His already round eyes widened, a nervous chuckle tumbling from his lips as your cheeks blossomed a warm, soft pink.

Suddenly, a ruckus erupted behind you, crashing into the tranquil silence. You turned over your shoulder to see your friends piling in the tall front door, laughing and smiling widely at you.

Tearing his eyes away from you with a self conscious gulp, the host cleared his throat before leading you all back past fountains, lush greenery and elaborate floral installations into yet another beautiful space. This room was just as intricate as the rest of the restaurant, with its warm terra cotta-colored walls dripping with ivy and orchids, lit with the dappled light of melting pillared candles piled atop the elaborate raw wood table spanning the length of the room.

As everyone happily clamored to find a seat along the banquet table, you noticed your friend, Erik, crashing along its opposite edge. Erik had been a football player in college, some defensive position you didn’t know the title of. He was a mammoth of a man, his blonde Nordic hair making him look like an off brand, out of shapeThor.

He paid little to no attention to where he threw his weight around like a puppy who didn’t yet know his size. So when he dropped himself onto the neatly slatted bench (gosh, every detail here was dripping in aesthetics) and promptly leaned against the wall, crushing the intricate orchid display, you couldn’t help but laugh. You heard the host’s strangled gasp and giggled at the beautiful boy's wide eyes as his horror-stricken face went pale across the room. Before he seemed to realize he was even doing it, his feet began to march across the floor to say something to your friend, until his politeness overtook him and he froze a few feet away. He grumbled to himself as your friend carelessly peeled himself off of the bench, annoyed complaining about something scratchy digging into his back. The host was positively fuming as irritation ticked in his jaw, but His big brown eyes betrayed his disappointment and downright bewilderment as the bedraggled orchids limped back into place.

“No.... They’re ruined. Now what am I supposed to display?”  You heard him attempt to mutter under his breath, but his anger seemed to make his volume louder than intended. He was so flustered—it was oddly...kind of adorable. You couldn’t help but laugh. You knew your friend had meant no harm. He was a sweet guy, but generally oblivious, so things like this seemed to happen a lot. Chuckling under your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the strain in the host’s angular jawline, not to mention how good he looked with his eyebrows furrowed like that. Intense. It made you want to kiss the creases to relax him. Man, this guy was really getting to you...

Maybe it’s time to have some fun, you thought.

Leaning over the edge of the bench, you whispered surreptitiously, “Hey, maybe you should consider wheatgrass instead.” You sent a quick wink in the host’s direction, a thick cloud of giggles falling from your lips. Lashes fluttering , the poor guy seemed startled by your comment. He had been so wrapped up in blinders over his restaurant being ruined that he hadn’t realized anyone had been watching the entire interaction. For a quick second, embarrassment flashed over his features. The sudden chagrin on his face as he nervously ruffled his hair softened him. The Greek god of a man suddenly a soft, flustered boy. He looked so... sweet.

The whole scene gave you the oddest urge to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he was. But just as fast as it had appeared, the innocence in his wide eyes was gone, his composure swiftly resettling itself as his shoulders rolled down, his posture lifting him back up to full height. His confidence was back, and so was a lopsided smile that you decided you quite liked. “Might not be the worst idea.... certainly less overhead,” he sighed resignedly, hands hanging low on his hips as the tick in his jaw loosened, replaced instead by the beginning of a smirk.

“Much less upkeep. Less horizontal space. Equal level of pretension. I see no downsides,” you shrugged nonchalantly. You felt your own smile bloom wider the longer your gazes stayed fixed on each other. His eyes were dazzling- coffee brown and deep- as they glittered back at you. “I’ll look into it...might be a solid option. Have,” he hesitated. “Have you been here before? I don’t think I’ve seen you... I get the feeling I would have remembered you.” His face was so soft and unguarded, his pretty mouth just a bit too open as he searched his memory for a glimpse of you. You pulled your lip between your teeth as your smile threatened to grow.

“No,” you shook your head, hair bouncing around you. “It’s my first time here. First time for all of us actually. Hence, my friends lack of good graces with your horticultural displays.” you offered an apologetic shrug.

“May my orchids rest in peace,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “Not your fault though. You guys, uh, celebrating something?” He was suddenly too close for a stranger, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Oh, no. We just work in that massive upstart down the block. Kept hearing about the place, and Instagram kept hacking our feeds with ads for it so we finally caved. Figured we’d try it out. ” You waved across the table gesturing to everyone. There were all so deep in their own side conversations that no one seemed to pay any mind to you lingering oddly with the wait staff. “Glad to see the marketing is working out,” he chuckled. “Well...if it’s your first time, then you’ll need a proper guide through the story.” A glint of mischief sparkled deep in his chocolate eyes, and you felt something effervescent glitter up your spine in excitement. “I suppose we will.” With a bow from his hip and a nod, he turned on his heel with no explanation, leaving you to smile down at your menu like an idiot in his absence. Trying to read was pointless honestly. The letters might as well have been in Arabic as they swam across the page- you weren’t processing anything. Far too lost in a dreamy eyed splendor over the boy you’d just met until a bony elbow nudged its way between your ribs. “What was THAT all about?” Eileen’s eyebrows bounced with curiosity. “ I don’t know.” You answered honestly as your head shook. At this point, you were smiling so much your cheeks were beginning to hurt. “But my God, isn’t he CUTE?” You hid behind your hands. “Cute??” Eileen shoved you in the shoulder. “He’s not a corgi, y/n. He’s a grown man.” She bit her lip. “A GORGEOUS, full grown man....did you see him when he walked away? God, what a view.” You pressed your forehead into her shoulder and whimpered, “I knowww. His smile, those thighs, my god...and his butt. Did you see it? It’s better than mine.” You both fell into a fit of giggles.

“All I know is that if you don’t give him your number then he’s definitely getting mine tonight. Or anything else he’d like for that matter.” Your jaw fell open at her brazenness. “Hey! slow your roll. You can’t call dibs before I’ve even gotten his name!” you laughed.

“Then you better work fast, babe. Cuz butts like that don’t stay single for long.”  She tipped her head to the side matter of factly.

“Oh my gosh, shut up! You don’t know when he’ll come back. He might hear you.” You breathed.

“Let him. It’ll make my job easier.” She bit down seductively on her red straw. Swatting at her, you both giggled before back into the table’s office gossip.

Apparently, Elliot had shown up to the office wasted again today- either from getting trashed the night before or from getting sloshed the morning of, no one was quite sure at this point. Either way, everyone was annoyed as hell that he’d never get more than a slap on the wrist for it since his dad managed their branch. Nepotism still alive and well. Clearly.

Popping an entire potsticker in your mouth, your belly ached with laughter as Sean told you all how his assistant had accidentally walked in on two higher ups making out in the supply closet this morning and how traumatized the poor intern had been. He described in detail how the poor slob had still tried to get around them to get the extra printer paper, and what a mess the whole ordeal had been. He owed you a clean fifty bucks now.

With your keen eyes, you’d been the first person to be suspicious of them- you’d called it a solid month ago- and had put your money where your mouth was. You’d started the office pool that they were in fact a secret couple- a bet you’d clearly just won if Sean bleak expression was anything to go by. Lunch on him all week. Potstickers til i burst? Don’t mind if I do.

It had been a great evening, full of unwinding and bonding. So great, that you’d completely forgotten about the mystery element of the dinner. That is, until a crystalline voice spoke above you, snapping you to attention.

“Pardon me, everybody. But it’s time for the mystery of the evening to begin.”

Surprised, your eyes darted up to see the cute guy from earlier. He was standing right behind you. Your pulse spiked as he sent a smirk your way. What were you supposed to do with that? He was so close now that you could hear the fabric of his dress shirt rustle every time he shifted or gestured above you. With every movement, a burst of his scent surrounded you. It was something citrus, something fresh. A dizzy smile tugged at your lips as it enveloped you like a cloud. God, you wanted to bury your nose in it. You were such a sucker for a good smelling boy...

And this one was so in your personal space. Which should have been off putting, honestly. Especially since you’d barely known him for half an evening. It was a bold choice on his part, to get so close to you. It should have been a turn off. Should have. But it wasn’t. Instead, you found yourself almost vibrating with excitement at the proximity of him. Whatever this gravitational pull was around him, you were perfectly content to get pulled straight into it.

If you’d had the nerve to, he truly was close enough that if you tipped your body back just a few degrees you could’ve rested your head against his lean stomach if you’d wanted to… which, of course you did want to do… but you’d only just met him. So instead, you bit down to stifle your smile, eyes flicking over to Eileen who was just as giddy on your behalf.

God he’s so cute, you thought. Wait- is he still talking? Crap-focus, you scolded yourself, tuning back into his monologue.

“As everyone knows, we all have the same five senses. But what happens when we lose one? How does it affect our instincts? Our gut? How does it change the way we listen to each other?” he paced around the edges of the table, hands clasped behind his tailbone. It made his dress shirt bunch deliciously in all the right places, and you bit back a smile. It was getting harder and harder to hide your little infatuation.

“When each of you arrived,” he continued, “you were each given a character and a backstory- No one should know it but you- but only one of you received the card that said killer. Someone at this table has committed a murder, but who? Often, our eyes can deceive us, so as part of tonight’s story, your sight will be taken from you as you try to decipher the truth. Can you rely on your other senses, your hearing, your intuition to solve this case?” A few other waiters approached the table with baskets in hand before the room went dark- completely.

Not the “the lights are off but we can all still see” kind of dark. It was the “it's so black in here that you can feel it” kind of dark. The kind of complete nothingness you never get with the ambient glow of street lights and screens everywhere. It was heavy and consuming, the absoluteness of the suddenly inky black room.

Swirling your own fingers in front of your face, you saw absolutely nothing. Not even the glint of your own jewelry, and something fantastic bubbled up in you. This is going to be so fun. Your heart began to race in anticipation- you didn’t even know what for yet. You felt your knuckles wrap around the bench beneath you, bracing, waiting, holding your breath, wondering when the night would finally be-

Only to have your thoughts stop. Completely.

Each individual one of them halted in their tracks by the sudden contact of warm fingertips against your skin. The gentle press of a large set of hands melted into the tops of your shoulders, thumbs bracing on the back of your neck. It was him again, wasn’t it?

He squeezed once, tense and hesitant despite his obvious strength, like he wasn't sure touching you was the best idea, but he couldn’t back out now that he’d started. The delicacy of it left you buzzing. In the silence, the pads of his fingers sunk deeply into your skin, and your breath caught. You’d never been this grateful for off the shoulder clothing in your life.

“May I?” he asked, tone honeyed and sweet.

You realized he meant the blindfold you’d heard so much about before you came and nodded your head just once, tension sticking in your throat as you tried to swallow it down. It was only then that you realized he probably couldn’t see you in the darkness. You’d have to gather your wits enough to verbally respond. You hoped he wouldn’t catch the way the “yes” that left your lips was embarrassingly breathless.

You heard him hum in response, holding whatever was left of your breath as his fingertips slowly fell from the tops of your shoulders, dragging across the edges your sleeves like he was in no rush to let you go. It was a strange intimacy from a stranger, but to be honest, you didn’t want him to let go either.

Until, quick as a whisper, his warmth was gone, leaving you alone in the dark. The shift so abrupt that part of you wondered if you’d imagined the last thirty seconds. His lingering hands had fallen away so abruptly at the end. Where had he gone?

It all felt like a fever dream you’d cooked up, like your own subconscious was mocking you for wanting him so bad. For a second, you wondered if you should be concerned by how obviously attracted you were to him. Should you be ashamed by how quickly you welcomed his touch? By the way your traitorous body showed no intention of pushing him away? Maybe you should, but he didn’t give you the time to overthink it before he was beside you again.

“Jungkook.” He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

“What?” You breathed, face turning toward his sound in the blackness.

“That’s my name. Jungkook.” He repeated, his voice airy and soft. You hadn’t realized how beautiful his voice was until it was the only thing you had to focus on. You could feel that he was bent low, his chest just brushing the tops of your shoulders. You felt dizzy at the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as a cool satin ribbon was draped over your eyes.

“In case you were wondering.” He whispered, pulling the edges of the fabric into a soft bow as he dipped to the other side of your shoulders. “But I’ll also answer to ‘guy with the butt that’s better than yours’ if you prefer.” His breathy laugh filled your ears, and you could practically hear him smiling. “Oh god, you heard that?” the back of your hand smothered your mouth, a smile emerging even as you cringed.

“Oh absolutely. Acoustics are insane in this place. It was kind of nice though... I mean, how often do I get to hear such a pretty girl compliment me ?” You could feel the rush of blood practically crashing into your cheeks. You knew the whole world would see you blushing if the lights were on. “I’m out of witty comments for that one.” “Don’t smile. You’ll mess up the blindfold,” he warned, the endearing softness in his voice undermining his words. “I’ll try. Don’t think I can help it though.” A satisfied hum left Jungkook’s lips as he pulled away and went back to the task at hand.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And just like that, the mystery began with Jungkook as the narrator and weaver of your tale.

Your group had been given a story set in feudal Japan. Clashing samurai, feuding houses, forbidden love- Your friends all got surprisingly into it, losing their normal voices into the adopted lilts and pitches of their newfound characters.

It really was incredible the nuances you caught when you focused on your hearing. Jin’s voice, for example, was far more nasal than you realized. He had a tendency to react dramatically any time someone pressed him for details- clearly signaling how close they were to the truth the more he tried to hide it. Lina’s expressionless monotone was nearly impossible to read on voice alone, but it made her all the more fun to try to figure out. Despite focusing on the story, you couldn’t help but notice that while Jungkook had the entire table to canvas as he narrated, he still stayed suspiciously close to your side the entire time- like he couldn’t help himself. His fingertips would brush the fabric of your blouse when he’d pass. His taut arms would graze the swing of your ponytail as he walked by. He had no mercy on the fragile hummingbird flitting with wild abandon in your chest at each of his actions. In fact, you could hear the distinct note of something that sounded an awful lot like laughter in his voice anytime he gave instructions to your character specifically. Smug son of a gun. Soon, the story unraveled as it was revealed that Jin had, in fact, been the murderer. He was jealous of Lina’s love for samurai Hoseok and had killed him in a drunken rage but tried to frame Bobby for the dishonorable act.

With the crime solved, the lights were turned back on, a fuzzy halo emerging around the edges of your vision as a staff member came behind each guest to remove their blindfold. You were unsurprised when you were met with a gentle waft of clean citrus as Jungkook appeared once again to help you with yours. The warm pads of his fingers grazed your cheeks when he removed the satin ribbon. It was so quick- it was so hard to tell if it had been on purpose- before his touch was gone again far too quickly for your liking. “I must say, you were particularly clever.” He offered softly as he stood behind you. You dropped your neck back to look up at him, eyes wide. “Anyone paying attention would have known that wasn’t Bobby’s blade work.” “Still, most people don’t catch it on their first time through the story.” He tipped his head matter of factly. “Maybe I just had a good guide,” You winked, tucking your chin back to normal when you saw a faint pink color his cheekbones. He cleared his throat before addressing the table. “You’ll find your individual checks have been placed in front of you, along with a complimentary dessert. Thank you for dining with us this evening. It has been our pleasure.”

He bowed at the waist as he gave his farewell, making his last words spoken dangerously close to your ear. Adrenaline spiked in your veins at his proximity for the thousandth time tonight. As he returned to full height, another man approached the table, this one taller, leaner than jungkook, with a smile so innocent and wide it could have belonged to a child.

“Good evening everyone! How was your experience with us tonight?” His voice. It boomed like a clap of thunder. It was oddly deep for someone who looked so young. Everyone at the table chattered with random superlatives about how amazing the night had been as the man's smile glowed brighter.

“I’m so glad to hear it!! You had a real treat tonight- guided by our finest story teller.” Pride swelling in his eyes, the man clapped an embarrassed Jungkook on the shoulder. “Such a shame it might be the last story he tells here.” The baritone lamented. “What am I supposed to do without my partner?” The man used his other hand to clutch at his chest dramatically, face scrunched in distress, as you felt your heart free fall into your shoes.

Last story? “Calm down, Taehyung. You make it sound like I’m dying.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and swatted at the man. “You might as well be!” Taehyung huffed. “He’s leaving us tomorrow to start his new life! Off galavanting in the mountains somewhere with flowers and goats. Leaving all his old, true friends behind.” He wrapped an arm around jungkook’s shoulder, dragging him against his will into a side hug jungkook vehemently tried to escape. “Quiet down, bro. You’re making a scene.” Jungkook balked, face pale at the unwanted attention.

He’s…. leaving? Your stomach took a swan dive. No. But I just met him. How... where was he going? Your eyes fell back to the table as you steadied yourself.

You’d been so excited about where this all might go. It was hard enough to accept that you’d already gotten this attached to him. Let alone invested enough to be this disappointed…..but, you’d felt something so strong around him. The kind of glittering spark you hadn’t felt with another person in a long time, if ever.

Every time his eyes had lingered on you or his body had brushed against yours, a supernova had ignited in your chest. You’d spent the whole night going mad with the electric possibility of him- just to what? Feel like a fool for being infatuated with a stranger? Look like the naive girl you were, pining over a daydream?

This was ridiculous. You shook your head at yourself. This boy didn’t owe you anything. He was a stranger two hours ago, he’d stay a stranger when you left twenty minutes from now. But no matter how you tried to convince yourself, your poor heart still felt sick about it all. He’d just seemed so�� you don’t know, special. So magnetic. And You’d thought he’d felt the same pull bringing him to you too.

Because why else would he have flirted with you half the night? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to lead you on if he knew it was going nowhere. An assumption you realized was a heck of a leap. You didn’t actually know anything about him, but somehow, something about that narrative just didn’t sit right with you. The look he’d had in his eyes each time he smiled at you tonight had seemed too sincere to be a lie. But from the way his loud friend was still talking, he made it sound like Jungkook was moving to the Alps.

So even if his sweet eyes had genuinely meant every smile tonight, was it really all for nothing? You knew the night was ending, and it was a long shot, but you’d really been holding out hope it might go somewhere beyond this. Apparently not. In an instant, he reappeared by your side, having broken free from the grip of his affectionate friend’s grasp. Jungkook dipped beside you once again as you stumbled to rearrange your now troubled features into something resembling disinterest.

“Hey, Sorry about that. But, I um, really do hope you have a great night. So your uh, your check is on the table.” His poise seemed a bit more rattled than before, but you were too glum to give it much notice.

You sent an out of focus glance in the ticket’s direction and nodded. He’d already told everyone that. Most of the table already had their debit cards out for their tickets. You didn’t know why he was bothering to mention it again when all you wanted to know was where he was going and if it was far.

“I um...didn’t get to catch your name earlier,” the smile he offered you was gentle, hopeful, as his wide brown eyes looked down at you. You felt yourself sigh withought meaning to. You’d have found the sheepish look in his eyes hopelessly adorable just a few minutes earlier, but now all it did was make your chest hurt. “Not a detail you need if you’re moving away though right?” You asked, a sadness creeping in your attempted smile. God, you weren’t fooling anyone. This was pathetic. His brows dipped at your response, confused by the shift in your demeanor. “I’m... I mean, i told you mine.” His gentle eyes tried to salvage the situation. The confidence he’d exuded all night was slipping away, a boyish vulnerability taking its place. There was no harm, you supposed. “Fair enough. It’s y/n.”  you conceded. “Y/n.” He repeated, like he was trying to make the shape a new habit for his mouth. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

The smile you gave him back was a limp, pitiful thing, but it was the best you could give. Half an hour ago, you definitely didn’t think him calling you pretty would have made you so sad. Compliments didn’t usually send you into a craving for solitude and halo top ice cream, but this one certainly did.

“Well, y/n, I may not be as far away as you think. Have a good night.” And with that he was gone.

Bummed, you looked over your shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Shoot. Well, that was a fast track to nowhere,” you sighed to Eileen, slouching in your seat. “I know. Bummer. Seemed like he liked you too.” Eileen commiserated. “Right? So it wasn’t just me? You could tell too?” “Oh, he was totally obvious about it! He  also gave you more ice cream than me. Shameless. Boy has no subtly.” You chuckled at her accusation, but sure enough, you did in fact have one scoop more ice cream in your jadeite bowl than the rest of your friends. This boy already knew the way to your heart.

“Still. Why act interested if you’re disappearing the next day?” You pouted. “Why show interest when he’s just a server you’ve never met before?” She asked pointedly, eyebrow arched as your eyes fell away. “People react when they feel something- and clearly you two were feeling something the entire night. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second....We don’t get to pick the timing of when we’re attracted to people, y/n. Nobody’s working with that kind of control.” Flopping onto her shoulder, you heaved a heavy sigh. “Again... you’re right. I just, I don’t know. There was just—something about him. He felt... special.” “He looked special in that outfit. Those buttons were crying.” She mockingly bit her lip as you swatted your napkin at her. “Eileen! Unhelpful! I’m aware.... I guess you just don’t always get to know where things could have gone.” You shrugged, wilting into her warmth. “I know, babe. Sorry.” She patted your head comfortingly.  You turned to your ice cream to heal the wound, accepting that beautiful Jungkook would just be a passing meeting and a quick deadend to nowhere. After polishing off your dessert, you pulled out your cash to at least leave him the memory of a good tip when your eyes caught on scribbled handwriting in the top corner of your receipt. Hey, I don’t normally do something like this, but there’s a place around the corner that stays open super late. Meet me for crappy coffee + good conversation at 11? -jungkook xxx-xxx-xxxx You choked on nothing as you processed what was going on.

“Eileen! Eileen!!” You grabbed at her sleeve. “What?? What is it?! Calm down.” She pried your clutching hands off her cropped leather jacket, brushing off any damage you’d done.

“He gave me his number!” You nearly shouted.

“What?” She almost spat out her cocktail.

“He gave me his number!!” You waved the receipt wildly in her face. “He invited me to coffee and gave me his number!!!” You squealed, shrieking at an octave usually reserved for wild piglets. “Shut up! No way!!!” “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” You rambled ecstatically. “But wait!” your face fell,“ we’re supposed to go out for drinks with everybody after.” “And? Is that a joke??? You see us every day! What are you doing talking to me?? Text him! Go meet your man, honey. I’ll cover for you.” She winked as she swung her purse over her shoulder. “Really?? I love you! I owe you!” You yelled as she made her way to the door. “Um, You really don’t, but I’ll never turn down a favor. Let me know how it goes. See you on Monday.” She waved back at you, flipping the platinum ends of her ebony hair over her shoulder. “Hey! Where’s y/n? Isn’t she coming with us,” Jin seemed to be the only one alarmed by your absence. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, dear. I’ll fill you in later.” She grabbed him by his shoulders and nudged him out the door frame. “Ooo, bulking up are we, Kim? Feeling solid these days.”

“Yes actually!” His face glowed. “I have been! But you know, muscle tone is 80% genetics anyway. You cant just make yourself handsome, you know.You have to be born this good looking to start with and work from there.”

She knew there was no quicker, sure fire way to get Jin off topic than to ask him about himself. Once that train had left the station, there was little hope if any of ever turning back.

Eileen really took one for the team there. “Call me” she mouthed back at you as they slipped off into the night. You chuckled to yourself at the scene, finally realizing the turn your own evening was about to take. You plugged his number into your phone and shot him a quick message. [10:35pm] Hey, how did you know I was always down for quality conversation? Moments later, your phone began to buzz. Jungkook [10:36pm] Just went with my gut ;)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[rrrawrf-writes]

retirement

this is for @gingerly-writing. it was supposed to be for her birthday. then i didn’t write anything for six months. but now here we are.

---

“If you’d wanted me to attend your party, you could have just sent an invitation.”

Suijade looked up, a bit startled, and then stood abruptly, his chair scooting back, as Gloria Delgado smiled at him. For a woman in her eighties, she looked elegant - and recognizable as none other than Morning Glory. She didn’t have to wear a suit. A long, slim white silk dress with the unmistakable prints of cherry blossoms and the creeping, flowering vine that gave her her alias, wrapped around a body that should have belonged to a younger woman.

A much younger woman. Gloria may have had laugh lines and crow’s feet, but she looked like she hadn’t aged past her forties. 

Suijade instinctively reached out to his ropes, but stopped himself, as Gloria simply smiled at him. He hadn’t seen her in person in years. Very few people had. Her brown skin was a beautiful contrast against her straight, snow-white hair, cut in a bob that curved slightly around her face. Suijade stood in front of superhero royalty, and all that Gloria was missing was the crown.

“Please, don’t let me make you stand,” she said warmly, pulling out a chair across from him and taking a seat. She smiled and gestured towards his chair, as if this were her party. “Sit.”

Suijade sat.

Her brown eyes regarded him with a hidden laugh; her voice was warm and honey smooth as she spoke. “This is a wonderful event. And I quite appreciate the cause - a charity ball for the conservation of local wildlife. Tell me,” she drew one of the still-full winegasses from Suijade’s side of the table to hers, and took a sip; he resisted the urge to tell her that it was for his fiance. “Did you arrange this for the irony, or was that a happy coincidence?”

Suijade finally found his voice. “It’s rather brave of you to come here alone, Mrs. Delgado.”

She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “As I said,” she pointed out, “you wanted me to come.”

“I would have preferred different circumstances,” Suijade admitted. He doubted he would see them, but he looked out over the crowd for any sign of the people he’d sent to fetch Gloria in the first place. His table was one of several on a balcony overlooking the celebration; it was otherwise empty, as the people in the hall below them chatted, danced, and ate their fill. 

“Then you should have come yourself, Lariat,” Gloria chided. “I’m sure the end result would have been very different.”

If Gloria had been sixty years younger, Suijade suspected she would have rolled her eyes. The sarcasm still carried without the gesture, and he took a bit larger of a drink than he really should have. 

“I believe that the end result will turn in my favor, now that you’re here,” Suijade said. “I appreciate how much easier you’ve made this for me.”

Gloria let out a soft chuckle, and propped her chin in her hand. “Oh, no, darling, it’s rather the other way around. You see, you’re trapped.”

Suijade arched his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Gloria’s smile grew a touch wider. “You’re trapped,” she repeated, and gestured around them with her glass of wine. “By societal convention.”

“Please explain.”

Gloria gave him a warm look, took another sip, then set down her glass and straightened. “Everyone,” she said, “knows who I am. And those here who don’t recognize me yet, will soon. It’s rather expected for heroes - even retired ones - to kick up a fuss at these events. Though,” she added, “I really would prefer not to. I haven’t been invited to much of anything for years, and this is quite enjoyable.”

“I would prefer not to have a fuss at my party, either,” Sujiade said dryly. “Mrs. Delgado, you seem to have quite the monologue prepared.”

“Please be patient with me, my dear,” Gloria said. “As I said, I haven’t been out and about in years.”

Suijade couldn’t help a smile, and he tipped his glass towards her. “Well, then, please continue. I would hate to curtail your enjoyment.”

Giving him a maternal smile, Gloria reached across the table and warmly patted his hand. “Thank you, darling. I have no need to hide my identity, or my powers. You, however, cannot make a scene without revealing yours.”

That was true. Suijade observed her over the rim of his glass, straight-faced. “I have been known for my subtlety, Mrs. Delgado.”

“I am aware.” Gloria glanced around the room. “But it is a touch more difficult to hide ropes at such an event as this, isn’t it? Let’s see - you have the curtains, of course,” she waved her hands towards the fabric pulled back from the high arching windows. Suijade had, indeed, added ropes to hold them back, as much aesthetic decoration as a potential weapon; more ropes hung behind them. “If I were here to cause a fuss,” Gloria continued, “I would also suspect the vents in the room, and the high ceilings. I’ve had to use those hiding places for my own purposes, before.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I’m very old,” Gloria corrected with a smile, “and I’ve seen every trick in the book, Lariat. Even yours.”

Suijade gestured to the one server waiting on the balcony with them, though she was far enough away not to hear anything. He and Gloria waited for the server to refill their glasses, and Gloria thanked her warmly before the waitress stepped away again.

“Mrs. Delgado,” Suijade said, after a moment. He resettled himself in his chair. “I do not rely solely on my powers. I have always considered that a weakness.”

“And so you would like to tell me that my focus on your powers is a similar weakness,” Gloria guessed with a smile. Suijade nodded, once. “This is true, and very wise of you, Lariat. Though you should be cautious of your use of the word always,” she added, a twinkle in her eyes. “I remember when you thought that your only strength.”

“Would it be inaccurate of me to suppose that you are focusing on your own strengths at this moment?” Suijade said. This evening was taking an odd turn, but he found the conversation refreshing - and, admittedly, somewhat flattering. There were not many these days who had the opportunity to speak so frankly with the woman who had been the first to show superpowers - and become the first superhero. 

“It would not,” Gloria confirmed. “But, it would also be accurate to say that you, Lariat, are outgunned.”

He frowned.

Gloria straightened with a smile. “You have done me the wonderful favor of ensuring that I have more than enough ammunition, Lariat.”

Her eyes drifted towards the vase of flowers in the center of the table. Suijade shifted slightly. It was only a single vase of flowers -

A single vase of flowers on every table in the large hall. Several clustering end tables. Displays along the wall showing realistic dioramas of the local environments they were trying to save. Small indoor, decorative trees and plants that were real, because if Suijade was going to sponsor an event, he wasn’t going to use plastic for anything.

He had arranged his own trap.

“I presume you had all of these roses dethorned, of course,” Gloria mused, reaching a hand out to the vase. Her fingers curled around a soft green rose, and the smooth stem sprouted slender, sharp thorns as she pulled the flower away from its fellows. “That’s really a shame. You can’t properly appreciate something without experiencing all aspects of its creation.”

“They came that way,” Suijade said numbly. He hadn’t really paid much attention to the flower decorations. He had people for that. He suppressed the urge to look around for his security, to check again just in case Gloria had brought someone with her, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Mrs. Delgado, my associates - ?”

“Ah.” Gloria set the rose aside. “They’ll have been arrested, by now. I was vague on the details when I called the police. I tried to avoid hurting them as best as I could.”

Of course she had. “I appreciate that. They were only doing their jobs.”

Gloria smiled. Her gaze drifted over the celebration below them, following the attendees in their suits and gowns. It was hardly a news-worthy event, simply some of the local rich folks around the state that Suijade and his fiance had convinced to back the charity.

“Lariat, if you’re going to send others out to do what no one else can do better than you, you really should retire.”

He startled, looking up at her. “I’m sorry?”

She set down her glass, a slight smirk touching her green-coated lips. “Oh, you could join my book club.” Gloria’s expression brightened at the thought. 

Suijade stared. “Your… book club.”

“Yes. We just met last week, and we’re starting a new book. This is the perfect time.” She straightened. “I think you would enjoy it. We’re reading one of Robin Kimmerer’s books this month. Braiding Sweetgrass.”

Had she gone senile? She was eighty years old, at least, and Morning Glory had taken a lot of hits during her career.

Judging by the slight smile on her face, Gloria could guess at what Suijade was thinking. “Well, at least consider the idea,” she said, and finished off her glass of wine. “Who was it, Lariat?”

Suijade blinked, and shifted again. “Who was who?”

Gloria looked at him. “I know that there is no reason for you to hold me ransom, Lariat. I have no riches, and I’m not that valuable a public figure any more.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, Mrs. Delgado.” Suijade flagged the server down again, asking her to refill Gloria’s glass as he regained his feet in this odd conversation. “We would all be poorer without your presence.”

She gave him a fond smile as the server left them again. “Except you. How much richer would you be?”

Suijade smiled back at her. “Quite a bit, Morning Glory.” And considering the money Suijade already had, that was certainly saying something. He could retire their server’s father, the poor man. Suijade knew he worried about her university tuition.

“Mmm. And who will be to blame for your sudden increase in charitable donations?” Gloria asked with a smile. Suijade sat back in his chair, but before he could think of a non-answer to give her, he spotted his fiance over Gloria’s shoulder.

Jesse, of course, had the worst timing, as always.

He stood up with a smile regardless, and he didn’t even have to fake it - seeing Jesse enjoying himself was a pleasant contrast to the work Suijade had to deal with. Jesse had his hearing aids in, but Suijade still signed a greeting to him.

“Oh, Jesse, hello again,” Gloria said brightly, getting to her feet a beat after Suijade. He shot her a startled look, and bit his tongue. “I’m sorry for disappearing on you earlier, I found an old friend I wanted to say hello to.”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Delgado,” Jesse said brightly, his voice just a touch too loud, the words just a touch too close together. Suijade still hadn’t heard anything he loved more. He pressed his lips together when Jesse offered a hug to Gloria first, but he really couldn’t blame either of them - Suijade had always been the one with more reservations about displays of affection.

Jesse at least broke away to come over and kiss Suijade, very briefly, on the corner of his jaw. “I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” Jesse said brightly. He reached down to steal Suijade’s glass, and Suijade let him. 

“Well, it’s been quite a while since we’ve seen each other,” Gloria said warmly. 

“I’m more surprised the two of you know each other,” Suijade remarked, though at this point, he really shouldn’t be. Jesse somehow always knew the oddest people, but tonight, Jesse shook his head.

“We only met tonight,” he said. “I wish we had known each other before, I absolutely would have invited you.” Jesse gave Gloria a bright smile. 

Of course he would have. 

They all took a seat again, Jesse sitting as close to Suijade as he could manage it. The server appeared without being asked, bringing another glass and refilling the others before she ghosted away again. Suijade had hoped this would be the last event she’d have to play caterer at, and then she could simply focus on her studies, but with Morning Glory here as a guest, rather than a captive, Suijade supposed he’d have to find some other source of a bonus for her father.

Well. He could still find a way, he was sure. He was Lariat, after all, even if Gloria was right.

Sorry for not being down there with you, Suijade signed briefly to Jesse, under the edge of the table. He didn’t know if Gloria knew sign language, but he wouldn’t be surprised. Work came up.

That’s all right, Jesse signed back, before taking one of Suijade’s hands and leaning against him. “Are you enjoying the party, Mrs Delgado?”

“It’s lovely,” Gloria assured him. “I especially adore the decorations. You’ve both truly outdone yourself tonight.”

“Have you seen the gardens?” Jesse asked eagerly. “The people who own this place have been working on them for decades.”

“No, not yet,” Gloria said, though she perked up just as eagerly as Jesse. “But I would like to.”

“Jesse,” Suijade started, but Gloria had already swept to her feet; Jesse bounced up, too, like an eager puppy. Suijade started to stand.

“Let me show you,” Jesse said excitedly, before Suijade could make any attempt at heading off this adventure. Turning, Jesse gestured for Suijade to stay seated, adding, “No, Suijade, it’s fine. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Gloria slipped her arm through Jesse’s, and smiled past him to Suijade. “You should really consider my invitation,” she told him warmly. “Jesse, hold on juuuust a moment.”

She hovered her hand over the flowers in the vase, deliberating a moment between colors before she pulled another of the pale green roses. Suijade shoved down the urge to leap across the table as Gloria fussily slipped it through Jesse’s lapel, cooing over how well it matched his shirt.

Jesse, of course, was delighted, and he half-turned to show Suijade with a grin. Suijade did not miss the single thorn on the stem.

“Who was that friend of yours you wanted me to meet, Suijade?” Gloria asked, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a warm smile.

Suijade’s grip wrinkled the tablecloth. Jesse looked to him, and Suijade forced himself to relax, pushing a tense smile onto his face. Looking good, he signed quickly to Jesse. His fiance beamed.

Suijade knew that Gloria wouldn’t hurt Jesse. Of all the capes he’d ever dealt with, Morning Glory was the one he trusted most not to make good on a threat against a civilian. But it wasn’t about whether she’d hurt Jesse or not - it was about whether Suijade was willing to take that chance, miniscule though it may be, with the man he loved.

He wasn’t.

“Ah. Percy Banks,” he said, glancing past them to the people below. “He is very keen to make your acquaintance.” And all of Banks’ money in the world wasn’t enough to make endangering Jesse worth it. Suijade did not want to make the mistake of trusting Morning Glory’s public reputation. She was not one of the more predictable superheroes.

“Thank you.” Gloria beamed at Jesse. “Shall we?”

Suijade watched the two of them go, then sighed. He drained his glass, then wearily waved over the server to refill it, again. She looked at him, then just set the bottle on the table. Suijade let out a soft laugh.

“Thank you, Maria,” he murmured, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was sure no one would notice if he dipped his hands into the charity till for her tuition. If she kept him supplied like this, he would. 

With a sigh, he sat back in his chair. Retirement. He’d thought about it for some time, and he knew it would make Jesse happy. And Suijade carried out his own plans less and less these days. Maybe Gloria was right - it could have ended very differently if he’d gone after her himself, instead of trusting to his employees.

It could have ended with him hurt, or worse, and Jesse left alone, waiting for him to come home. Suijade closed his eyes for a moment.

Then he pulled out his phone, and looked up Robin Kimmerer.

[getlitaesthetic]

But how would the dark brothers react to cannon brothers, I feel like they would ridicule and make fun of how they treat mc saying their weak or somthing.

ALSO ASKED:  How do you think the dark alternate brothers react with the other brothers? Like the dark lucifer seeing his alternate and MC happily together?

Alright! Time for more mirror antics! Wherein we get the dark brother’s side of things! Prepare for a lot of grossed out demons, and a parallel storyline. As always, all brother prompts get long, so the rest is under the cut!

BEGINNING:

“Good, you all made it,” Diavolo grinned, his sharp teeth still sticky with drying blood. “Today, we shall all rival Barbatos in ability, for a moment.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Mammon replied sharply, arms crossing over his chest, before Lucifer’s hand collided with the back of his head and he hissed out a breath. “Goddammit!”

In front of them, was what was quite obviously a standing mirror covered in an elegant white cloth, stained with red. “A mirror?” Asmodeus crooned, stepping forwards to brush his fingers over the silk that hid his reflection from himself. “Oh, might I?” He bat his eyelashes at the Prince of the Devildom, who was laughing wildly. Diavolo grabbed the Avatar of Lust by the throat, lifting him from the ground, and throwing him into the opposite wall. Asmo moaned, rolling to his feet as he collided heavily with the floor. “Now, now, Daddy Dia, if you wanted to play, you should have just said so...”

“We’ll go in order of age,” Lucifer cut him off with a glare, to the exasperated eye roll of Satan. “Do you have an issue with that, brother?”

“I have work to do, so if we could hurry this along? You’ve yet to explain the... necessity of looking into a mirror. We have those at the House of Lamentation.”

“Very well!” Diavolo moved along the line, making sure the demons were in order, before he stood beside the mirror, pulling the cloth away with flourish. He presented it proudly. It was gilded, the glass reflecting brightly, as if it was brand new, but it looked quite old. “This was a gift from my father. When you look into it, you’re meant to be able to see what you’re doing in an alternate dimension. Exciting, isn’t it? I’ve decided to use you as my guinea pigs. Lucifer, you’re first.”

LUCIFER: 

The prideful demon sighed, stepping in front of the mirror, filling it with his massive form. He stared intently at his own reflection, waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t long before the wish was granted, and the glass began to shudder and melt into liquid. Lucifer cocked his head, interested now in the artifact, his fingers running the width of the mirror, but it didn’t give under his touch. Suddenly, a picture began to appear. In it, was the Devildom, but nothing like he had ever known it. It... looked more like the human realm, on a warm, calm night. Lights from cozy little shops reflected off the wet pavement.

There, from around the corner, came himself. This was not the demon he knew himself to be, this version looked weak, over anything. He was small, in a casual human form with peacock feather patterns decorating his cloak. How utterly ridiculous, Lucifer thought to himself, focusing on the image. He wasn’t alone, there. Ah, MC. Well, at least this strange mirror version of himself still had a pet.

Or, no, that wasn’t right. MC was dressed ridiculously, not matching the other Lucifer in the slightest. They clung to his arm, giggling as he helped them over a puddle on the ground, gesturing to the movie theater. “So? Which movie would you like to see?” He heard himself question, and the true demon grimaced.

MC leaned up, and pressed a kiss to the mirror creature’s cheek, lacing their fingers together as they mumbled an answer. Lucifer felt sick to his stomach. What kind of demon had such capacity for kindness? It was disgusting, he wanted to force them both to their knees. MC’s throat ought to be opened for such behavior, and his own? Punishable by death. Lucifer couldn’t help the way his fists clenched, a snarl building in his throat as he turned away, the mirror solidifying behind him.

“Filth,” was all he had to say as he moved to stand at Diavolo’s side.

MAMMON:

Greed cracked his knuckles as he stepped up, the grin on his face dirty and wide as he squared himself in front of the mirror. “Alright, you glitzy fucker, show me what I’m missing!” Behind him, Levi groaned and smacked himself in the forehead. “Ahh, shut up,” Mammon answered, rolling his neck as he met the gaze of his reflection. Just as he opened his mouth to admire his jewelry, his image began to ripple and fade, replaced by what looked to be a pawn shop. 

The first person he noticed in the picture was MC, strolling lackadaisically through the aisles, poking at the items they found interesting. He squinted at the sight, focusing in on the details. They were dressed in athleisure, with a basic black top over grey joggers and sneakers. “C’mon, Mammon! I’m supposed to go to the gym with Beel today!” There was no ring on their finger, and they clearly had no problem talking back to him.

Then, he saw it. Himself. Dressed... like he was poor? Both hands of his alter were planted on the counter of the pawn shop as he grit his teeth. “Whaddya mean they’re not real! I sto-- I borrowed ‘em straight from the Demon Lord’s castle!” The pawn shop owner shrugged, pushing the trinkets back across the counter. 

“Ugh!” He complained, snatching up the trinkets before looking around. MC was leaving. MC was leaving?! The artificial Mammon ran out the door, eyes panicked. “Hey! Hey wait for me! MC?!” The real demon’s nose wrinkled as he shook his head.

“No fuckin’ way,” he grumbled, looking away from the mirror. “Me? The Great Mammon? Chase some weak human?” He couldn’t believe it, spitting on the floor to get the bad taste out of his mouth as he moved aside.

LEVIATHAN:

Next up was Levi, who shoved his hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie as he stepped up to replace Mammon at the front. “There’s a mirror just like this in Oh No, I Went Through A Portal And Now I’m The Ruler of A War-torn Universe Hellbent On Destroying Every Other Realm Because I Married The King’s Daughter And Then He Died In A Terrible Snowshoe Accident.”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Belphie yawned from the back, his body twisting and curling in the back of the room.

Levi’s cheeks reddened in anger but he turned his attention to the mirror. Almost immediately it melted for him, the picture appearing clearly before his eyes. His bedroom, if it was for a child. His fish were tiny, with no visible teeth, just circling calmly in the tank. His Navy photos and weapons were gone, replaced by... dolls? What the fuck?

On the floor, his mirror image was sat on the floor with MC, both of them focused intently on a video game. As the weaker copy won the game, he threw his fist in the air in excitement. “YES!” He cheered, turning to MC with bright excitement in his eyes. They leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, cooing their congratulations. The true demon watched with horror as his alter flushed bright pink, nervously jumping to his feet. 

“I-I, uh, I’m... OMG,” he hid his face and ran from the room, leaving a confused MC alone. Who was this whiny child? Leviathan was the Admiral of Hell for fuck’s sake! He didn’t run from a small kiss. Confusion and unhappiness welled inside of him, as he realized that in some small way, he was envious of even his own copy.

The Avatar of Envy facepalmed, shaking his head as he hissed his disapproval before looking back up, only to find the image gone. 

SATAN:

Satan’s tongue ran across his teeth as he side eyed his older brother, clearly unhappy with what he had seen. “What? The other Levi a better monster than you?” He watched as Envy burst into laughter, almost falling to the floor as he howled, and rolled his eyes, shoving him out of the way. “Finally,” he grumbled, “let’s get this over with.”

He met his own careful gaze in the mirror, and it began to ripple outwards,, revealing a face looking back at him. His own face, if he looked more pedestrian. Standing behind him in the bathroom was MC, looking anything but put together. A massively oversized traffic cone orange t-shirt with a hole in it on the bottom left. They yawned wide, stretching, before shuffling forwards to put their cheek on the alter’s shoulder blade, arms wrapping tight around him from behind.

“Mornin’,” they mumbled into worse-Satan’s button down bed shirt. The weak Sin laughed softly, warmly, turning to pull MC into their arms, pressing soft kisses over their forehead and cheeks.

“Good morning, Kitten,” he sighed. His eyes were full of love, a foreign concept to the real Satan, who felt the familiar burn of hatred in his chest. This other him, who did he think he was? He was okay with being nothing, and loving a human? 

It didn’t make sense, and not understanding only fueled his rage. No version of himself, no matter the universe, was allowed to be so weak, and useless to the cause. His hand smacked the mirror, earning a hissed warning from Lucifer, but he did not go through as he had hoped, to strangle this version that threatened to water down his legacy.

Satan’s fingertips were blackened with his hatred when he retreated, disgust curling his lips.

ASMODEUS:

Lust adored a good mirror, and when he stepped up, he immediately leaned in to stare into his own eyes, falling in love with himself all over again, as was only proper for a demon as truly incredible as he was. He hissed in shock and unhappiness when his image became distorted and began to disappear. “How rude,” he complained, voice still a sultry low even as he complained. His attention was caught when he recognized himself at a club that looked as if it was meant to be The Fall, but it was so boring! There were no naked angels dancing for their lives, no one fucking on tables, and no blood anywhere, as far as he could see.

His mirror version was dressed, and not even immodestly, which was a tragedy in itself. More than that, he wasn’t dancing. He was sitting on the barstool, sipping a cocktail as he watched MC dance, with a dreamy look on his face. After a moment, they joined Asmo at the bar, grinning wildly as they ordered themselves a drink.

Asmo cut in before MC had a chance to speak, taking one of their hands in both of his, his eyes almost wet. “Maybe I’m just drunk,” he started, and on the other side of the mirror, Lust was already groaning audibly in complaint. “but I love you, MC. If I ever loved anyone as much as I love me, it’s you. It’s okay, if you don’t wanna sleep with me, you know? Because you like me for who I am, and no one has ever done that before. Thank you, okay?” 

MC smiled warmly, and kissed the tip of his nose. “Of course I like you for who you are, Asmo. You’re so special to me. I love you too.”

The Sin gagged at the sight. There was no Avatar of Love for a fucking reason. Because it was disgusting. That was the reason.  Why lay hands on someone to get absolutely nothing out of it. e wretched, and turned away from the mirror, sauntering to the other side of the room. “I’m much too pretty to be looking at such ugly things,” he huffed.

BEELZEBUB:

Beel’s hulking form would not fit in the mirror no matter how far back he stood, and he knew it, so he stood in the center of the room under the vaulted ceiling, and let his skin bubble and twist, melting in on itself as the excess sloughed off. Before long, he stood, almost human sized again. His fly wings still buzzed against his back, and his mouth watered as he fought the urge to feast on the flesh he had left behind.

Still, he had work to do, and work was the only thing to even semi-consistently top his starvation. He shook the viscera from himself as he looked into the mirror, stomach howling. The glass its solid form under his gaze, giving way to a view of a smaller version of himself, with no wings in sight, at a restaurant table. Hell’s Kitchen, the tasteful sign on the wall provided. Across the table was MC, gently holding his hand as they presumably waited on their meals to be provided.

The demon and human creature seemed to be chatting, laughing with each other, but Beelzebub was focused on how his mirror companion remained so calm, only mildly complaining about his rumbling stomach. It seemed this alternate version of himself was only hungry, not a glutton. Not really. What else did this man desire?

Apparently the answer was MC. When the food came and Beel dug in, he kept looking, making sure MC was fed as well. Unconsciously he leaned towards them, even going so far as to shift his chair so he was closer. When dinner was done, he sighed. “Do you want dessert, MC? We could share something. You deserve something sweet... Thanks for always being there for me.” The hungry small-thing smiled brightly, and the human laughed, leaning in to kiss him, hard.

Gluttony’s brow furrowed as he watched. This wasn’t a sin at all, this was two weaklings who loved each other and enjoyed dinner, nothing more. How DARE this mediocre copy use his name!

His anger, however, was short lived, as his stomach finally won out and he turned, dropping to his knees to bury himself in the remains he had left on the floor.

BELPHEGOR:

Finally, the seventh born. He blinked awake at the pungent smell of flesh, uncurled from the corner as he realized it was his turn to look into the mirror. His body coiled and twisted before settling in the shape of a man, his body more fluid and used to shifting than that of his twin. He stepped with solid foot to the ground, looking intently into the mirror, wiping his eyes as he yawned. The sooner this was over, the sooner he would be able to rest. A long moment passed, and then the glass began to dip into itself, shimmering into the last of the brother’s windows. 

There, he saw. A tiny looking creature, although perhaps it was part cow, carrying a pillow under his arm as he entered the living room. MC was there, on the couch, reading a book, but that didn’t deter Sloth, who simply crawled until he was almost in their lap, before closing his eyes. MC didn’t seem the slightest bit phased, simply lifting the book up and over his body while he got comfortable, and then freeing a hand to stroke through the sleeping cow’s hair absentmindedly.

Under their breath, MC began to hum a lullaby, but the real Belphegor growled at the mirror. It was a low sound, one that filled his chest before spilling from between clenched teeth. It didn’t make sense. This tiny sloth was much too vulnerable to be resting that way, and in the arms of a human? What kind of trust would that require, to know beyond doubt that they would not attempt to injure him in his sleep? He did not fear death. Death was impossible, as the Sins would thrive as long as humans lived, but he could certainly still feel pain.

Was this love? If so, it was less appealing than he had ever dreamed. His dead heart did not bother to stir or beat in his chest, as if in agreeance. Belphie studied the image in the glass, committing it to memory. Such an egregious error could not soon be forgotten. 

ENDING:

“Now that you’ve all had your share of the artifact, I’ll need a written report on your experiences. In the meantime, why don’t you give me a brief summary.

The room filled with discontented hisses and growls, along with the gnashing of teeth, as overlapping stories devolved from modern language, to ancient ramblings, and then into the deep chaotic rumbling of the Abyssal tongue.

Diavolo took it all in, relishing every word of what had happened. It was all so very interesting, especially the parts that horrified and angered them. The mutterings of “filth” and “fuckers” mixed with the howl of a language that had no words.

“How fascinating,” The Demon Prince beamed, gesturing to the door. “You may all go. I assure you in the name of my Father that such unsavory matters will be dealt with accordingly. Clearly, this weaker world cannot be allowed to survive. Thank you all for your participation. Meeting adjourned.”

[hockeylvr59]

Be My Valentine || Tyson Jost

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Authors Note: So uh...this was supposed to be a blurb...and well it turned into not a blurb...enjoy. 

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff. And maybe like one curse word. 

Word Count: 1,963

You’d first met Tyson when he moved into the apartment across the hall from you. His rambunctious personality and the fact that there were constantly people in and out of his apartment meant that he was the only neighbor whose name you even knew or who you’d honestly even seen in passing before though. It had been a few months after he had moved in that he’d come knocking on your door almost shy but at the same time anxiety filling his expression. He’d explained that his mom’s Christmas present was delayed in shipping and now he was supposed to be out of town when it was delivered. He’d added that it wasn’t something he wanted sitting around and his ramble ended with him pleading with you to collect the package for him and to deliver it into his apartment so that he didn’t have to worry about it. 

You’d agreed without hesitation because it was an easy ask. Since then, he’d asked you to collect other packages/mail for him and to water the plant he’d been trying to keep alive while he was away. He’d explained dramatically that he couldn’t let the plant die because he needed to prove a point to his captain who’d bet him that the plant wouldn’t last the season. On the occasions that you talked when he was leaving town or had arrived home and was checking in, you enjoyed the tales he told about his teams’ adventures and antics. His stories alone told you that there was never a dull day for the Colorado Avalanche and you looked forward to bumping into him in the elevator or parking garage because he never failed to cause you to leave smiling even if your day had been crappy otherwise. 

It had been a rough week by the time Friday arrived, so rough in fact that though you’d mourned spending another Valentine’s day alone earlier in the week, by the time the hallmark holiday arrived you’d completely forgotten that today was Valentine’s day. By the time your day was over and you’d returned home with plans to change into PJs and curl up on the couch with a movie, takeout dinner, and wine, you were shocked to find a bouquet of flowers sitting outside your door with a card tucked into them. Adjusting your bag on your shoulder you bent to pick them up, a soft smile gracing your face as you caught a whiff of their sweet scent. 

Flowers in hand, you unlocked your door and headed inside, setting the flowers on the counter while you put your bag away and slipped off your coat and shoes. It was only then that you reached for the card, pulling it out of the envelope. The front of the card had a cartoonish image of a wedge of cheese on it and read “sorry about the cheesy card” and once you opened it you couldn’t help but laugh at the scratchy writing inside in what you recognized was Tyson’s handwriting though he hadn’t signed it. 

“...but since we’re both provolone on Valentine’s day will you have dinner with brie?” The card was so cheesy (no pun intended on your part) that you weren’t sure if this was a friend’s thing or whether it implied something more. So setting the card aside you quickly worked to get the flowers into a rarely used vase before pulling out your phone from your bag and pulling up your text conversation with Tyson. 

So…someone left me a beautiful bouquet of flowers and inquired about dinner...know anything about that?? 

Standing in your kitchen waiting for a response you couldn’t help but feel your heart thud in your chest in a way that it hadn’t before. Still, you chastised yourself that he probably was just talking about a friendly dinner...even if that wasn’t something he’d ever done before and it likely didn’t mean anything more. When your phone finally buzzed on the counter you felt yourself jump in surprise before you reached for it, blush growing on your face. 

I might know something about it. 

Change into something comfy and come over?? I have pizza and wine…

Be over in 5. 

After changing into a pair of sweats and a too-large sweatshirt you grabbed your phone and apartment key before making your way across the hall. In response to your knock, Tyson called out that it was open and the moment you stepped through the door, you froze in shock. The entire living space of the apartment was dimmed and lit only by candles and while there was a bottle of wine and a pizza box on the coffee table in front of the couch, you were immediately distracted by the fact that Tyson was sprawled out on the floor in sweats and a t-shirt with a half dozen tiny kittens crawling all over him. 

“What is going on here?” You found yourself asking and when Tyson glanced up at you after settling the kittens onto the floor his smile grew. 

“So uh...I think you accidentally called me the other night and before I realized it was an unintentional call I heard you whining about Valentine’s day…” The moment the words left his mouth you thought back to the other night and suddenly an apology was spilling from your lips. 

“Oh god...I’m so sorry you had to witness my pity party...I absolutely did not mean for that to happen.” You explained. Tyson was now standing in front of you and he shrugged his shoulders for a moment. 

“I know. But anyway...it got me thinking about how much you’ve done for me and how I haven’t really properly thanked you...so I thought maybe since we’re both single we could spend the evening together making fun of hallmark movies or something. 

You started to say that he didn’t need to do anything to thank you because you doing little things for him wasn’t a big deal but he stopped you before you could even start. 

“Okay. Fine. This sounds nice.” You agreed, stepping forward to press a quick kiss to Tyson’s cheek. “Thank you.” The fact that his cheeks had gone rosy sent your mind reeling but that thought pattern was stopped when you heard a soft meow at your feet. “Okay...so explain the kittens...because you do not have time for one cat let alone six Tys…” 

Chuckling, Tyson bent down to pick up the kitten that had wandered over to you, cradling it in his hands and petting it gently. 

“You mentioned a while back how much you missed your family’s cats so...I may have made a call to the humane society…” That still didn’t explain anything and when you raised your eyebrow at him Tyson continued. “They had a litter of kittens that isn’t quite old enough to be adopted yet, but they agreed to let me borrow them for the day as part of their house training. I thought maybe cuddling and playing with them might make you smile…” As he spoke the last sentence his voice dropped to a whisper and then suddenly he was tugging your hand pulling you over to where the rest of the kittens were rolling around on the floor. “Come play with them! They’re so fucking cute.” He exclaimed, picking a little grey furball up to hand it to you.

The small creature wiggled in your grasp and you immediately felt yourself relax at the feeling of soft fur under your fingers. You had certainly thought about getting a kitten, but the rent increase and going home for the holidays had prevented you from doing so. Looking over at Tyson wrangling two of the other kittens you couldn’t help but acknowledge the aching feeling in your chest that had appeared tonight for the first time. The fact that Tyson even remembered you saying you missed your cats when it had been an offhand conversation was mind-blowing and the ‘friends’ lens of your vision was quickly becoming blurred. 

After a few moments of play with the furballs, Tyson settled the quickly tiring kittens into a soft bed at the corner of the couch. Once all of the kittens were settled in for a bit of a nap, he moved to the table to pour two glasses of wine, handing you one of them along with a plate to eat the pizza off of. 

Snuggled onto his couch with pizza and wine and Tyson on the other end, he started the first of tonight’s movie selections. Within five minutes he was chirping the movie and how ridiculous it was causing you to laugh. By the end he was questioning why women even watch these things when they’re so predictable and you couldn’t help but shrug.

“Maybe because it’s nice to think that maybe something could just be that good even if it’s not realistic. Sometimes it’s nice to think that there are good guys out there that aren’t afraid to admit what they want.” 

You could feel his eyes on you as you finished your glass of wine, leaning forward to set it back down on the table. Silence spread through the room for a minute before suddenly Tyson was shifting and his thumb was brushing against your cheek as his lips pressed gently into yours. It took a moment for your brain to process what was happening but when it did you kissed him back causing him to smile against you before pulling away. 

“How’s that for an admission?” He questioned softly, his thumb still brushing against your skin. Basking in his touch for a moment more you eventually spoke. 

“I mean it could use a little clarity…but it’s a good start.” You murmured, your gaze focused on him. “Because I just don’t want to read more into this than it is.” You added, your hand brushing over his knee gently. Kissing you gently once more, Tyson pried himself up from the couch, moving to his kitchen for a moment before returning with a box which he handed you with a sheepish smile on his face. 

“So I was hopeful but didn’t want to presume so I left these in the fridge…” He mumbled. Opening the box you flushed not at the chocolate covered strawberries but at the chocolate bark with ‘be my valentine?’  written in elegant script on it in white chocolate. 

“Tyson…” You breathed only to be cut off by Tyson insisting that it was fine if you didn’t feel the same. “Tyson...are you serious?” You found yourself asking and when he replied that of course, he was you jumped up off the couch to kiss him once more. 

“Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?” He inquired when you finally broke the kiss to breathe. Your affirmative nod in response caused him to let out a whoop of excitement which caused you to laugh once more. 

With plans pending for an official date, you settled back onto the couch, this time curled into Tyson’s side as he started another movie. By the time it ended, the two of you had kittens snuggled all around purring happily. 

Considering how shitty your week had started, the fact that it was ending like this was incredible. In a matter of hours, you’d gone from spending another Valentine’s day alone, to being the Valentine of a man who made you laugh more than anyone else and who listened and remembered the things you talked about, a feat which spoke volumes. 

Thinking about it, your story seemed like one that could feature in a hallmark movie. It was cheesy for sure. But it was also absolutely perfect and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[wordynerdygurl]

Maybe

Author’s Note:  Hi All, so this was flagged as violating guidelines after I first posted... and I think the gif I used was too hot for tv.  Anyway, I accidentally deleted the first one in bed at 2:30 ET... So, here we go again, like Dolly Parton would say! This story was requested by an anonymous friend.  Loki, living his best life as your master. Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Summary:  You were always curious about being someone’s plaything.  When you meet Loki maybe those fantasies can come true. Warnings:  SMUT, D/s relationship dynamics, language, spanking

Maybe it had always been there.  A feeling, a thought, something that you could never quite give a name to.  When you were a chubby teenager, flipping through the magazines your forgetful father left in the bathroom, the photos of pretty women with their wrists in cuffs made your skin tingle.  As you grew up, the internet provided you with words and phrases that matched your fantasies.  But actually having a dominant lover?  Being the person in bonds, forced to enjoy the delicious torture of your master, that was never going to be real. So you dated here and there.  Men… boys, really, who wanted you to give them pleasure.  And blow jobs.  And hand jobs.  And unenthusiastic sex. In the dark of night, though, when no one else was around, you thought about it and your betraying body responded.  Leather restraints on your wrists and ankles, spreading your sex wide, showing your imaginary partner every inch of your skin.  Rough ropes winding over your torso, across your back, around your hips, keeping you compact and tightly wound for your paramour.  

You could almost feel the sting of a hairbrush on your ass.  The heat that would spread from a firm smack to your bottom.  How your core would clench under the abuse of a well used paddle.  Living in your fantasies made the mundane acts of everyday life more tolerable.

Acts like pouring coffee for rich jerks on demand. 

Having rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that day, you were unprepared for the delicious man in the black suit who looked at you like the last cake pop in the shop.  He was, well, sexy as hell.  And when he ordered his venti iced caramel latte with almond milk in a voice that wove a spell around you, you were certain he could tell that your knees buckled.  “Uh… name?” Leaning into the counter, intimately, the customer crooned, “Loki… and you are?”

“Yours.”

Maybe it would have ended there if your first date hadn’t gone so well but this Loki character had pulled out all the stops.  Dinner at a great diner where the french fries were amazing and the cocktails were hand-crafted.  Nice but not too fancy, exactly your speed.  Next a walk through the city where the conversation flowed smartly and sweetly, never lagging, never hitting a wall of awkward silence.

At some point in the evening, Loki had taken your hand and you had let him.  It felt natural, normal, to have his fingers twined with yours.  Guiding you, directing you to a place that he needed you to go, and you following him there willingly.

On your porch stoop, tense with wondering about a goodnight kiss, Loki trailed you up the stairs.  At your door, Loki, in the most gentlemanly way possible had brushed your hair behind your ear.  Pulling it just a little, directing you to where he wanted you most, his sweet lips pressed against your own.  Teasing you and tasting you until you’d given in to his talented tongue, parting your mouth for his invasion, Loki kept you tangled tightly to him.

You offered no resistance.  Why would you?  The part of you that imagined begging for release loved being handled so roughly at Loki's expert hands. 

The stinging of your scalp sent shivers shooting to your stomach.  Loki's tongue, swiping over your teeth, twisted against your own. Lapping at your particular taste over and over again as if the flavor could be memorized.  

His hands slid down your neck, over your shoulders, crushing you into the hard wood of your door.  Scalded by his marauding mouth, you were panting deeply when he pulled away.  “Look at you… I think you like my kisses, don’t you?”

“Hmm… yes sir.”  You couldn’t say exactly what made you do it, just that it was right. “Sir?  I like that.  Say it again, pet.” “Yes sir.”

“I think you shall have to call me sir from now on.  Do you like that idea?” “Yes sir.”

Maybe that’s where it all started.  Maybe not.

“Hmm… this, this succulent thigh.  This is mine.”  Loki made this declaration before sweeping his tongue over the smooth skin there, lapping closer and closer to your curl covered core.  

Swallowing thickly, "Yes sir." “I am so glad you concur.  And this… this full, happy breast… this is mine, too.”  Squeezing your heavy globe in his nimble hand, Loki sucked your tightening nipple between his lips, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

"Ah!  Loki!"  "No, kitten.  Not Loki.  You know the rules."  You did.  There were two appropriate titles for your God and you hadn't used either one.  

Casting your eyes downward, ashamed to meet his gaze, you knew there would be punishment.  A price had to be paid for your mistake.

"On your knees, position two.  NOW!"

Scrambling, you moved to the end of the bed.  Position two was one of your favorites.  Loki knew just how to manipulate your body when you were on your hands and knees.  Lifting your rump as high as possible, knees wide so that your dripping cleft was on display, you were exposed in every possible way.

"Hmm… kitten.  Sometimes I think you do it on purpose."  Cupping your bottom, Loki stroked up your back, using the cut of your hips as a handle to hoist you closer to the edge of your mattress.

You wiggled.  Loki saw.  He saw everything.  You were always so eager, something that pleased him greatly. 

Coming around to face you, "Do you, little one?  Do you make these mistakes intentionally?  Do you want your master to punish you?"

Having grabbed your chin roughly, Loki turned your head to his, the force of it making your hair swing.  His thick thumb forced itself into your parted mouth.  You wrapped your sweet tongue around it, sucking the digit deeper, reveling in its texture.

Pushing firmly, Loki used his thumb to leverage your jaws apart.  Opening your mouth wider, saliva starting to pool, "I could just slam my cock down your throat right now.  Slide myself so deep that your nose would be at my navel.  And you're such a slut that you'd love that, wouldn't you?  Wouldn't you?"

Loki's words turned your insides liquid.  A gush of female fluid left your inner thighs slick.  Your wail was wanton, wanting and whining.

"I think six should remind you of who you are dealing with, kitten.  You will count and you will thank your benevolent master for the opportunity to correct yourself."

His first open hand slap makes you rock, breasts bouncing, at the strength of it.  Balling the sheet in your fists, gasping, "One… thank you, master."

Rubbing softly over your warmed skin, Loki traced the curve of your round cheeks, teasing your silken slit.  Oh how you wanted to push back against him, feel him from the inside, stretching you around his invasive digits.  But you didn't dare.  

"Tell me, pet.  Who do you belong to?"

"You, sir!"  Loki chose that moment to smack your ass hard.

"AH!  TWO!  Two!  Thank you, master!"  

Without pause, Loki swung again, his hard palm connecting with your yielding bum in a searing slap.  "THREE!  Thank you, master!  Thank you!"  

Tears clouded your vision.  Sore from supporting you, straining to keep yourself in place like Loki commanded, your elbows threatened to buckle.  Your voice was raw, hoarse from calling out, breathless at the relentless pace your master had set for you.

And there were three more strikes to come.

Loki tangled your hair in his iron grip, forcing your back to bend, exposing your neck.  "I wish you could see yourself, pet."

His tone was haughty.  High and mighty, like he was looking down his elegant nose at you and your depravity.  It made you wet.  It made you crave Loki, his rules, his discipline.  Maybe it's what made you such a perfect fit for each other.

Forcing his tongue into your waiting mouth, Loki thrust himself deeper, driving into you with the same intensity you imagined he would use later with his cock.  Just the idea of having Loki sheathed inside you caused a convulsion of your core.  Was it possible to cum like this?  

Rising, Loki massaged your tense shoulders, his hands warm on your chilled skin.  Taking his place behind you once more, his chest curving into your back, "Ready kitten?"

Nodding, you husked, "Yes, master."

Your bottom was hot after you thanked Loki for the sixth and final time.  Still denied your pleasure, the need for release was a pulsing energy in your body.  How Loki could hold out so long was just another nod to his other worldliness.  You, after all, were merely human.

"Please sir?  Please?"

"What is it you want, my darling little kitten?"  After all his harsh treatment, Loki was extremely sweet, petting your hair like the good kitten he knew you could be.

Gulping, embarrassment flashing through you, "Please make me cum."

Smirking at you, knowing too well that he was in complete control of you, "I thought you'd never ask."

Rolling you onto your back effortlessly, Loki took the time to plant kisses along your jawline, your collarbone.  Skilled fingers plucked at your overly sensitive nipples, rolling and stretching them in turn, making you mewl.  Without touching your straining bud, Loki parted your lower lips, earning a gasp of surprise in response. Settling between your widely spread thighs, stroking his stiffened spear just to torment you, “What’s rule number three, pet?” “I am not allowed to cum until you give me permission, sir.” “Correct.  And number four?”  Mesmerized, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Loki’s hand, or the way it was sliding over his satin steel. Whimpering with want, “Um… Four?  I… I have to ask your permission to cum.” Choosing that moment, you felt Loki toying with your entrance, giving you just an inch of his turgid length.  “Indeed, you do.”  Grunting, Loki filled you in one thrust.  

It took everything in you to not break the rules you had just recited.  Loki groaned as your velvet vice gripped him.  “You’re so tight kitten.  So tight.  I don’t think I can hold back.” “Don’t… please!  Please, let me cum with you… please sir!”  Begging was something that you were getting used to, but right now you’d do that and more to release the tension that Loki had built up inside of you.  His pelvis ground into your own.  Wrapping your legs over his hips, Loki snapped into you savagely, sending your spiral of desire sky high.  Bringing his hand up, caressing your cheek, Loki’s blue eyes captured your lust filled gaze.

“Do you want to climax, little one?  Do you want to feel my release too?” “Yes, Master!  Yes!  Please!”

“You have been a good girl.  Go on, let me feel you, darling.  Let yourself go!” With permission granted your body unraveled spectacularly.  Loki captured your lips in a kiss, swallowing your passionate pleas, pumping the last of his pleasure into your willing body.  Holding you close, your body molded to his, you laid locked together through the aftershocks of your intense love making. After your breathing had steadied and Loki had you wrapped up in his strong arms, you wiggled closer, savoring the strength of your bond with the God of Mischief.  

Maybe you loved being bossed around by Loki.  Maybe you loved being held at his side.  Maybe… just maybe, you were lucky enough to have a man that could both. @iamverity @brokenthelovely @nonsensicalobsessions @jessiejunebug @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @vodka-and-some-sass @mizfit2 @jamielea81 @archy3001 @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[cosleia]

What if Millicent wasn't a small cat but something tiger-sized and Pryde poked her with his stick one time too many?

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde, Part 6: Dinner

(kylux, preslash. content note: graphic descriptions of an animal mauling and eating a person)

“I understand you have a...pet,” said Allegiant General Enric Pryde, slapping his swagger stick into his palm.

General Armitage Hux’s office on the Steadfast was not large—nothing like his war room and engineering facilities on the Finalizer had been—but it had a desk and a chair and a door, and at this point that was all he could hope for. It did have its merits: Pryde had had to use the call box before entering, and he also had to stand while Armitage remained comfortable in his seat.

Armitage managed not to twitch at the sound of Pryde’s crop striking the leather of his glove. It was an obvious intimidation tactic, and Armitage was not intimidated by sanctimonious peons like Pryde. “Yes,” he said. “It’s my prerogative as ranking general.” He watched Pryde’s face, daring him to claim that his rank was higher. This issue had not yet come to a head, and Armitage was, quite frankly, tired of the chain of command being unclear.

But Pryde ignored the comment, likely because he didn’t want to risk losing the authority he’d so recently gained when Supreme Leader Kylo Ren chose to make Pryde’s flagship his own. What he did say was, “It’s highly irregular. And as this is my ship, I have the right to assess the way this creature is being housed. Every centimetre counts on a starship, General—”

“Millicent lives in my chambers, General,” Armitage put in, a bit crossly. “And I pay for her food out of my own stipend. She will have no impact on the operation of the Steadfast, just as she never interfered with the operation of the Finalizer.”

Pryde raised an eyebrow. “If that’s true, then you shouldn’t mind a brief inspection of your quarters? To validate what you’ve said.”

Armitage had a feeling he’d been outmaneuvered, but he wasn’t sure how. Pryde had the right to enter any area on the Steadfast, including all officers’ chambers. Well, excepting Ren’s, of course, and the rooms Ren kept for his Knights.

Wait. Had Ren also made Armitage’s chambers off limits to Pryde?

A smile twitched its way across Armitage’s face. “You’re more than welcome to come meet Millicent, General,” he said graciously. “I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.”

“I’ll send an audit team,” Pryde sniffed. He tucked his swagger stick beneath his left arm the way he did when he was about to walk away dismissively, and oh, so that’s what he was after. Pryde wanted to spy on Armitage. His ‘audit team’ would almost certainly consist of intelligence officers who would bring with them any number of tiny, easily hidden surveillance devices.

“I’m sorry, General,” Armitage said, “but I can’t allow that. Millicent loves people, but she can be distressed by groups. One person is all I’m willing to subject her to.”

“Yet you claim the creature won’t interfere with the operation of this ship.”

Armitage smiled again. “One person is sufficient to perform an audit. As I said, you are more than welcome to come yourself.”

Pryde always looked like he was glowering, but his face looked especially severe now. “Fine,” he said.

“Of course, I must also be present,” Armitage added. “She won’t take kindly to a stranger I haven’t introduced her to.”

“Fine,” Pryde said again. If he was feeling anything beyond slightly inconvenienced, he was hiding it exceptionally well. “We’ll go now.”

~

Armitage heard a muffled thump and the clack of Millie’s claws on the durasteel floor as soon as the hatch cycled open. “Come, darling!” he called, though she was almost certainly already on her way. “We have a visitor!”

Millicent emerged from the bedroom at a gallop, a giant blur of orange and black and white, barreling up to Armitage and bounding up on her hind legs to throw her front paws onto his shoulders. He staggered a bit under her weight and laughed as her enormous tongue lapped over his neck and face. “There’s a good girl,” he praised her, putting his arms as far around her as he could get them, stroking down her back, and burying his face in the wonderfully soft fur behind her ear. “Hello. Hello. Did you miss me?”

As usual, the greeting was over in a matter of seconds; Millie pushed off him and dropped back to the floor and circled toward where Pryde was standing. Her hackles weren’t raised, not really, but she was curious, cautious. The muscles in her legs and back were visibly tensed for a pounce, and her tail was flicking slowly back and forth behind her in preparation to counterbalance. She was absolutely magnificent, the perfect hunter, and Armitage indulged in watching her for a moment before turning his attention to Pryde.

The allegiant general stood stock-still by the door, arms straight at his sides. The only parts of him that moved were his eyes as they followed Millie’s prowl back and forth between him and the main living space. “General?” Armitage prompted.

“It’s rather...large,” Pryde said. For once, his voice wasn’t strong and certain. He seemed to remember how to move, pulling his swagger stick out from under his arm and brandishing it in front of him like a knife.

“Yes, she is,” Armitage agreed.

“I expected something...smaller. Where is its cage?”

Armitage blinked, affronted. “I would never put my Millie in a cage. She needs room to move about. It’s in her blood.”

“It’s tame, though?”

“Of course. I trained her myself. It can be difficult with this species, but only if one is not fully committed to the task.”

“Ah,” Pryde said, shifting back a half step as Millie twitched her whiskers at him. “I suppose you are the son of a nerf-herder.”

“Nerfs are docile plant-eaters!” Even someone as witless as Pryde should be able to appreciate how special Millie was, how unique. “Millie is a carnivore. A predator. It’s completely different.” Armitage wrinkled his nose and added, “Also, Millie doesn’t stink.”

Millie, sensing Armitage’s distress, began to growl low in the back of her throat. Pryde took a full step back.

“No, no, it’s all right, Millie,” Armitage told her. “To me.” Millicent loped to Armitage’s side. “Sit,” Armitage said, and Millie lowered her haunches to the floor in her elegant, feline version of parade rest. “Good girl.”

“She does seem to be well trained,” Pryde said, sounding half relieved and half disappointed. “And her presence in your quarters does not affect the operation of the ship. I shall not press the matter.”

“I appreciate your understanding, General,” Armitage said. At this point, Pryde just seemed eager to leave. He’d had no opportunity to plant any bugs; he hadn’t even moved from the doorway. Armitage, with Millicent’s help, had successfully foiled his plot. “Shall we return to the bridge?”

~

Life-partner did not like the grouchy man he brought home today. Millicent knew that for certain. And Grouchy didn’t seem to like life-partner, either, which meant Grouchy was a threat. They were tolerating each other, though, and that meant Millicent would tolerate Grouchy too...so long as Grouchy didn’t cause any problems.

Some time had passed since then. She had batted her toys around for a while and now she was lying at the foot of their bed. She had just started meticulously grooming herself when she heard the front door cycle open again. It was early for life-partner to return, but he had returned at a strange time already today, so Millie did not worry right away. However, the heavy footfalls she heard next did not belong to life-partner, nor did the scent that shortly came wafting in. Millie leapt off the bed and trotted out to the playroom, lips already curling back in warning.

It was Grouchy. Life-partner was not with him.

Millie bared all her teeth and told Grouchy unequivocally to get out of their home. Her loud, rumbling growl seemed to terrify Grouchy; he froze in place like an ash-rabbit instead of doing what she’d told him. Something he was holding in his left hand fell to the floor with a small clatter.

Millie stepped forward, attempting to startle him, to herd him to the door. Grouchy waved the stick he was carrying in his right hand at her. She paused, cocking her head to the side as she evaluated the weapon. It did not seem to pose any significant threat. “Back,” Grouchy said. “Back, you ugly beast.”

Millie recognized the words. ‘Back,’ of course, was a command. Life-partner used ‘ugly’ whenever he was talking about Dark One, and he loved Dark One almost as much as he loved Millicent, so it must be a compliment. ‘Beast,’ however, was an unpleasant word she had heard as a cub, back before life-partner had chosen her. It meant disrespect.

Millie did not obey the commands of those who did not respect her.

She continued her slow, steady advance. Grouchy let out a high-pitched sound and waved his stick right in her face. This time it actually brushed her whiskers. Millie snapped at it in warning, letting her sharp teeth clack together noisily. “Sit!” Grouchy yelled. “Lie down! Get back! Get away!”

She let out her own yell, again commanding him to leave her home. The roar was so load it rattled the drinking glass life-partner had left on the caf table. Surely that would be enough to get Grouchy to go.

But it wasn’t. Grouchy crouched down, reaching with his free hand for the small item he’d dropped. At the same time, he stopped waving the stick and started thrusting it toward her. This form of attack seemed more dangerous; he might strike her in the eye. One thrust poked her hard in the cheek; she howled, more from surprise than pain, and then she snapped her jaws closed around Grouchy’s wrist to keep him from poking her again.

She’d been polite long enough.

Grouchy screeched and jerked backward, trying and failing to free himself from Millie’s powerful hold, and dropped both the stick and the other thing. Millicent sank her teeth deep into his flesh to secure her grip.

Then she tasted blood.

Life-partner took good care of Millie, providing food and water and a bed and toys and a place to play. But it had been a long time since Millie had hunted prey. A long time since she’d enjoyed the meat of a fresh kill.

She considered. Would life-partner be troubled if she had Grouchy for dinner? Surely his unwelcome intrusion into their home and his refusal to leave broke any sort of truce the two of them had. There might be some other reason life-partner wouldn’t want Millie to eat Grouchy, but now his blood was trickling tantalizingly down her throat and she wanted more.

She deserved this, Millie decided. She had been very good for life-partner, and life-partner loved her. This was her treat.

That settled, she bit Grouchy’s hand off.

Her teeth crunched delightfully straight through the bones and tendons of Grouchy’s arm, and she chomped and smacked her lips and tossed her head until she got the whole hand into her mouth. Millie ground the meat and bones down to delicious pieces between her teeth and swallowed it all triumphantly.

Grouchy was screaming, clutching at his bloody arm, and that only made Millicent want more. She stalked toward him, licking her chops. Should she eat him piece by piece, saving the most savory bits for last? Should she go straight for the delectable organs she knew she’d find within his torso? She could crack him open easily just by leaping on top of him to break his sternum, tearing into his flesh with her claws, ripping out his ribs with her teeth—

He staggered backward until he hit the wall, and then he was scrabbling against it desperately, still screaming. His wounded cries were so sweet and enticing; how could she resist? Millicent lunged and struck him heavily with one paw, sending him flying to the floor faster than he could fall. One of his legs was left sticking out at an odd angle; she stepped on it and felt it break in two beneath her paw.

Now he was sobbing, trying and failing to crawl away. She almost wished they were in an open plain where she could really chase him, follow his wails and hunt him properly, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t have put up much of a fight no matter where he was.

Anyway, in an open plain she might have had to share. Here, this meal was all hers.

He kicked his good leg at her, so Millicent got her mouth around his ankle and gave it a good chomp. It was slightly harder to separate his foot from his body because of the covering over it, but after a few moments of worrying at it, she finally ripped it free. Millicent kept an eye on her prey as she set about tearing open the foot covering to get at the meat. Human feet weren’t especially delicious, but the bones provided a satisfying crunch, and she wanted to enjoy that before moving on to something meatier like the leg.

All Grouchy was doing was whimpering and crying and dragging himself along the ground as best he could without the full use of three limbs. It was slow going. He seemed to be trying to get to the door, but there was no way he’d be able to open it without standing on his hind legs, and Millicent didn’t think he would be able to do that. She took her time, gnawing and slurping at the foot until finally she finished it with a single definitive crunch.

Grouchy had almost made it to the door by the time she was done. It wouldn’t do for life-partner to stumble over him when he got home. Millicent trotted over and grabbed the back of Grouchy’s neck in her jaws and flung him bodily back toward the center of the room. Necks were vulnerable, especially human necks, and Millicent thought she might have broken Grouchy’s; at least that meant he’d hold still while she finished her feast.

It was time to eat his heart, Millicent decided. She’d denied herself long enough. Eagerly, Millie bounded over to Grouchy’s collapsed form, batted him over onto his back with her paw, and cracked open his chest just like she’d planned.

~

“Where is Allegiant General Pryde?”

Usually Pryde was at Kylo’s side whenever Kylo was outside his chambers. Kylo vacillated between finding it convenient and irritating; having an old Imperial constantly hanging around wasn’t really the same as keeping Hux close. Right now, though, the allegiant general was nowhere to be found, and Kylo had some orders to give him.

“General Hux?” Kylo asked, because Hux was the type to know where everyone was at all times.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir,” Hux said. A cursory scan of his mind showed he was telling the truth. Surprising. “I haven’t seen him since the middle of cresh shift. He said he had business and left the bridge.”

Kylo felt himself scowling and wished he hadn’t destroyed his mask.

“Can...I help with something, sir?” Hux added.

“Yes,” Kylo said, because he could give orders through Hux just as well as through Pryde. Actually, the allegiant general being absent was a good opportunity. Kylo didn’t feel like he could talk to Hux when Pryde was around. This was ridiculous, of course; he was Supreme Leader and could talk to anybody whenever he wanted. But still, it always felt...awkward. “Your chambers,” Kylo decided, in case Pryde suddenly decided to appear. “Now.”

As they set off together, Hux actually walked abreast of Kylo instead of trailing behind him. It was, Kylo thought, the first time he’d done that in a year. It reminded Kylo of how things had been on the Finalizer, before.

“How is Millicent?” Kylo asked, realizing he hadn’t thought about Hux’s pet in months. He wasn’t even sure she had survived Batuu.

“She’s fine, Supreme Leader,” Hux said. “Healthy and happy.”

It would be nice to see her again. She had always been friendly with Kylo, letting him pet her and scratch below her jowls. She had a deep, throaty purr that was strangely soothing.

He felt a sudden spike of anxiety that things might be different now, that Millicent might not like Kylo anymore. The thought of her rebuffing him was unpleasant. But there was no reason for Millicent to dislike him, was there? Things had—changed, shifted, with Hux, but surely that wouldn’t affect—

Kylo swallowed and pushed those worries down. It didn’t matter if an animal didn’t like him, did it? He was the Supreme Leader. He didn’t need anyone to like him. Not Millicent, not Hux, not anyone.

“Here we are,” Hux said, breaking into Kylo’s maudlin thoughts. Hux activated the airlock hatch to his chambers and started to enter. “Can I offer you a—” Then he broke off, stopping in the doorway, his mouth hanging open for a beat. “Ah. Supreme Leader. Perhaps a different venue—?”

“No,” Kylo said. “We’re already here. I don’t care if you haven’t dusted, or whatever.” He shouldered past Hux.

Then he stopped too. The floor was covered in dried blood, tattered pieces of fabric and leather, and bits of what looked like bone. Millicent lay curled up by the sofa. She looked very pleased with herself; her long tail curled slowly back and forth as she raised her head to look at Kylo. There was blood all around her mouth and all over her paws.

Her stomach was distended.

The smell of blood always gave Kylo something of a rush. It excited him. It was a scent of battle. He licked his lips as he stepped further into Hux’s chambers, scanning the room for evidence of what exactly had happened. It seemed clear enough, though. “Millie,” he said, “did you eat someone?”

Millie licked her own chops in response, as if to say yes.

Hux spoke up then, a nervous thread in his voice. “Supreme Leader, I’m utterly horrified. I’ve no idea how this happened. No one should have been in my chambers. I’m sure she was simply defending herself—”

Kylo raised a hand to shut him up. “It’s fine,” he said. “If Millie did eat someone, they probably deserved it.” He crossed the room to Millicent and buried his hands in her fur. “I missed you,” he crooned to her. To his delight, she rolled onto her back, inviting him to rub her tummy.

“You won’t...punish her?” Hux asked. “No matter who it was?”

“No,” Kylo said shrugging. “Why would I do that? I won’t punish you, either.”

“In that case...” Hux stepped further into the room, stooped over, picked something up, and brought it to Kylo. Kylo glanced up, then did a double take. It was that stick Pryde was always carrying around.

“Oh,” Kylo said with a laugh of realization. “So that’s where he was.”

Hux’s face took on a look of triumph. It was subtle enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice it, but Kylo did. It helped that he could also feel the man’s satisfaction rolling out from him like waves in the Force.

“You didn’t like him,” Kylo said. When Hux didn’t answer right away, Kylo added, “I know you didn’t plan this.”

At that, Hux let out a small laugh of surprise. "No, Supreme Leader. I didn’t like him.”

“I didn’t really like him either,” Kylo said. “But he always did what I ordered, so there wasn’t a good reason to kill him.” Kylo shrugged.

“It seems he intended to spy on me,” Hux added, holding up another item that appeared to be a small transmitter.

Kylo scoffed. “Was he so inept that he didn’t think he could serve me without trying to copy my most brilliant general? Fool.” Kylo turned back to Millicent and resumed stroking her fat belly. “You ate well, didn’t you? Guess you don’t need your regular dinner, do you?” Millicent nudged her face against Kylo’s ankle and started purring, and Kylo felt both gratified and content, like everything was the way it was supposed to be.

After a moment, Hux moved around the caf table and sat down on the couch, leaning over to join Kylo in petting Millicent. “Good girl,” Kylo heard him say softly.

~

Millie didn’t know why life-partner hadn’t taken Dark One as his mate yet. Humans had many strange and inconvenient customs; perhaps a long courtship was one of them. But it was nice to see Dark One again. There was something different about him, something different about the way he and life-partner were behaving around each other...but life-partner still smiled when he thought Dark One wasn’t looking, and Dark One still stared at life-partner like he wanted to mate immediately. It was only a matter of time.

Maybe, Millicent thought as Dark One settled onto the sofa next to life-partner and she climbed up to sprawl across both their laps, it would happen tonight.

~

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde series on AO3

[elliemarchetti]

Would write a fanfic about cal and mare going on first date and accidentally see elane and Evangeline

A Ray of Sunshine

Words: 1262

In the first photo they had together, Ptolemus was only three years old and sitting on a black designer armchair in which he seemed to be sinking, trying to hold both Cal and his sister Evangeline in his arms. In the next, the two peers were still wearing diapers and they were all sitting on a shiny white marble floor trying to build a crooked brick tower that was destined to fall ruinously. The third was the first where Maven appeared: he was just two years old and struggled to keep up as they all played in the Samos estate’s garden. Shortly after the photo was taken, Maven fell, scratching his knee, and all four did their best to keep it hidden from his overprotective mother. From that moment on, as tied by a blood pact, the four children backed up each other for every mischief, and while growing up, as they saw their families fall apart, they went on certain they still had someone who would always be there to support them, so Cal didn't ask too many questions when Ptolemus went to his house asking him if he could pretend  he started dating his sister Evangeline.

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't really important," said the older one, and Cal agreed to go with them for a month to the country estate together with Volo and Larentia, who although were still married, it was evident they couldn't stand each other anymore. The news brought a semblance of joy to the family, and the three almost forgot about that little lie as they spent their time divided between elegant brunches, long horse rides and provincial pubs. It was in one of these that things started to get complicated. As soon as they had entered the tavern, Cal had noticed her: surrounded by boys hanging from her lips, she looked like a small Aphrodite with brown hair and shrewd eyes. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all evening and had carefully studied her movements and those of her companions, to understand if one of them was her boyfriend. Two were undoubtedly her brothers and he had a doubt about the third guy with darker complexion since his hair were red, while the fourth, a blond boy, a little younger than the others, could definitely not be her relative but she seemed to treat him just like everyone else. He took advantage of the opportunity when she went to the counter to order drinks. The place was full, so she had sat down at one of the high stools to wait for her turn, her slender legs dangling.

"You really are very small to find yourself in such a place," he had said, and when she had turned and their eyes had crossed, he understood that he was screwed. They talked for a long time, but on the way back Evangeline told him that they had to establish rules.

"In places like this people talk, and I don't want my parents to start hating you just because they are convinced that you’re cheating on me with the first peasant passing by. So, until the end of the month, it's better if we don't see anyone."

Cal accepted, but within a couple of days he realized that he would absolutely not resist the temptation to go out with Mare at least once, especially when she texted him constantly and seemed definitely interested in him. So one night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Cal slipped out of bed, put on something comfortable and walked to her door. Mare was waiting for him curled up on the rocking chair on the porch and gave him a radiant smile when she saw him beyond the gate.

“It’s like I’m in high school again,” she whispered, with a chuckle, climbing over the metal that divided them, silent as a cat.

“You used to do it often?” he asked, amused, as they walked in the opposite direction from which he had come.

“What? Going out with boys already taken or sneaking out in the middle of the night?” she teased him, and even though Cal knew she was only joking, he wanted to specify that Evangeline wasn’t his girlfriend.

“So why are you spending a month with her family?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s complicated,” he replied, determined to remain vague, but a single sideways glance was enough for the stranger to manage to bring out of him even that little secret.

"And you really didn't ask questions?"

She seemed appalled at the idea.

“The blond guy at the tavern is your best friend, right?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. “If he asked you to lie for him and tell his family you’re his girlfriend, wouldn’t you do it without asking questions?”

Mare shook her head, a mischievous smile slowly opening on her face: "Are you kidding? I would like to know everything! I would probably also ask him for money to be in it, too."

It had to be nice, to have such a simple life.

"It's different between us," Cal explained. "When you have families like ours, you need someone to support you without asking questions."

It was evident that the girl wanted to know more but she must’ve realized that he wasn’t really in the mood to talk about death mothers, bad marriages and painful memories in general, so she stood silent and Cal asked where she was taking him.

"For clandestine encounters like ours, there is only one perfect place here," she replied, vaguely, and unexpectedly, a couple of traverses further on, turned left, in a narrow street that people who didn’t know of it would’ve never noticed.

“Don’t you find it a little disturbing?” he asked, looking sideways at a crumbling building, too little to be a house.

“Is it fear I hear in your voice, little prince?” she teased him, pricking his ribs with her index. Indeed, having grown up in a wealthy family, he had never had the chance to do things like that, and the trees around him, whose luxuriant branches hid the moon in the sky, seemed vaguely threatening to him, but he carried on, which led him to slam against Mare’s back when she stopped abruptly.

“Apparently, the place’s already taken,” she whispered, stepping back a little. Sitting with their legs dangling over what looked like an old power plant, there were two girls, one with long, red hair and skin as white as porcelain and the other… the other one was Evangeline!

“I cannot believe it!” Mare exclaimed, hiding in the thick. “The major’s daughter is kissing you fake girlfriend!”

Cal looked at the girls, stunned. Why hadn't he thought of this before? And above all, why hadn't they told him the truth? Did they really though Cal could judge her? He wasn't that kind of person and he didn't care who Evangeline chose as a partner, as long as they treated her right, and it was difficult not to do so, given her temper and her scary brother.

"I hope you're not too disappointed," Mare teased him on the way back, when silence lasted too long.

“Just by the fact we can’t have the place for ourselves, but the rest makes sense, especially given the Samos are a very conservative family.”

"Oh, but don't worry, I'm always full of crazy ideas!" she exclaimed, hopping on the sidewalk. Cal smiled. She was perfect, a ray of sunshine after a long rain, exactly what he needed to end his teenager years.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Last Call

Characters: Loki x Reader

Chapter: 1 of 2 (click the ‘2′ for Chapter 2)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: All you wanted was a drink after a long day at work, but a pushy jerk and the God of Mischief have other ideas.

Warnings: Language, making out, over-the-clothes groping, implied smut

A/N: This was written while conceived from listening to ‘Like Lovers Do’ by Hey Violet, recommended to me by @lakinda5654. @just-the-hiddles and @yespolkadotkitty helped me amp it up and make it a little dirtier at the end than I had intended. And for motivating me to make Chapter 2 just complete smut.

“One more, Jerry. It’s been a day.”

The bartender, with his leather jacket and mouth set into a firm line, nods gruffly and pulls another beer from the tap before plopping it down in front of you. You accept it with an answering nod and take a big gulp of the slightly bitter brew. That’s the ticket. It had been a hard day at work and stopped into the bar on the walk home to unwind a bit.

This bar was rundown and dirty, but that was outweighed by the fact that you were accepted along with the rest of the regulars, and Jerry always knew the stiffness of drink you needed just by the look on your face. Plus, his hard, unwavering stare deterred the random asshole who thought that you were to be messed with simply because you were usually the lone lady in the joint.

Too bad Jerry was in the back when a newcomer came over and plopped down onto the stool next to you. He slides a drink in front of you and settles his hand onto your upper arm with far too much familiarity.

“This has to taste better than that cheap beer you’re drinking.”

Your eyes quickly take him in. Button-up shirt beneath a coordinating sweater, jeans too baggy to be flattering, scuffed up boots, a lazy, smile that was a little too wide and eyes that lingered on your chest, he just gave off all the wrong vibes. He definitely didn’t belong in this bar filled with grizzled, salt of the earth patrons. You had felt him watching you as soon as he and his similarly dressed buddies had walked in, and it was nothing like the lingering stare of the man that had bellied up to the bar soon after you had arrived.

Now his stare was almost welcomed. He stood out, but only because he was a little too nicely dressed to be in the dive bar. His well-tailored black slacks and tight black shirt beneath a well-worn leather jacket aren’t grubby enough to belong in this run-down watering hole. But the darkness in his twinkling eyes and the mischief of his arrogant smirk spoke of seedy underground rendezvous and four-letter words uttered with breathless voices. He held his drink of whiskey like a lover, long fingers lightly curled around the water-stained glass. He didn’t approach you or attempt to chat you up with a terrible pick-up line, so you decided earlier he was mostly benign. If he wanted to enjoy the view you presented, exhausted and drained from work, who were you to stop him?

Your eyes flick to the silent stranger. He watches you with faint curiosity. Your eye contact holds as you size each other up from across the bar before you break it to roll your eyes back to the overconfident kid eyeing you openly. You can’t be bothered to put on your fake smile to appease him as you shake his hand from your arm roughly. “Nope, I’m good with my beer.”

Jerry returns from the back with a container of glasses, freshly cleaned, and sets them down loudly behind the bar directly opposite of you. You make eye contact and give him a quick reassuring nod before focusing back on your beer, a clear dismissal of the man at your side.

His hand clamps down on your shoulder and you turn your head to him sharply. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Look, my friends and I are about to go hit this club downtown. You should come.”

After quickly chugging the last of your beer and shooting a brief wave at Jerry, you stand up and make your way for the exit. Jerry will just add the drinks to your tab and you can pay the next time you popped in. There was always a next time.

“Where are you going?” The words are accompanied by a sweaty hand clamping onto your wrist.

You spin on your heel to stare up at the cocky asshole who thinks that he can just grab any person he deems fit. You raise your chin and glare daggers at him. “Anywhere you aren’t.”

He uses his hold on your wrist to pull you toward him and latch his hand onto the dip of your waist. That successfully brought him close enough for you to level a punch into his soft jawline. It stung enough to make you shake out your hand as you pulled away, but it was worth it for the shocked anger twisting on his face.

“Hands off the merchandise, pal.”

“Bitch!”

His answering smack across your face seemed to echo throughout the room, over the low grumbles of burly men chatting, the clacking of billiard balls, and the faint classic rock sounding out from an ancient jukebox.

You again make eye contact with Jerry, who stopped in the middle of drying off a pint glass with a rag that never looked clean to watch the scene unfold, chest puffed out and eyes wary. You shake your head to let him know that you’re alright before focusing your attention back on the dick who made the huge mistake of thinking he could touch you.

You advance on him slowly, ignoring the dull throb in your knuckles and cheek to tilt your head to the side and plaster on a look of fake contrition. Your voice is syrupy sweet when you croon out, “Oh, I’m so sorry…”

His brow furrows before a boastful smile slips over his face at your surrender. “That’s okay, sweetheart.”

But you only approached him so that he was within striking distance. Your knee lifts and connects with the soft, sensitive flesh in between his legs. He doubles over instantly with a pained groan.

You send your knee into his chest, “I said-” your elbow in between his shoulder blades, “I-” your boot into his hip to roll him over on the sticky bar floor, “wasn’t interested.”

You look up from his pathetic form coughing on the floor to lock eyes with the dark-haired man who had been watching you all night. Even through the hazy cigarette smoke that clouds the air, you can make him out well enough to admire the elegant lines of his jaw as he raises it questioningly. It was the same look that Jerry had given you a moment ago, but you don’t have time to dignify it with a response.

Arms encircle your neck and shoulders. You grip them with both hands and drop to one knee, using the momentum of your falling weight to pitch forward and pull the attacker over your shoulder and onto his back. A quick punch to his temple and he’s not going to be anybody’s problem for a little bit. Another man, assumedly his friend, rushes at you from the corner of the room. He barreled toward you, face blotchy from booze and fists high, showing his hand long before he reaches you.

You sidestep his lumbering, lurching strides and grunt with the force needed to plant your boot into the mass of his ass. He goes crashing to the floor, bouncing off of a chair in the process.

Finally, three of the regulars, big brawny men, stand up from where they were warily watching the spectacle and gather up the riff-raff to escort them outside. Now that they’re gone, you’re free to feel the full stinging effect of the fight. You flex the fingers of your dominant hand and walk back to the bar. Jerry is waiting with a stained towel wrapped around a handful of ice.

You take it from him gratefully and sink onto your usual hard wooden stool with a sigh. You sat here so much that, eventually, the shape of your rear was going to wear itself into the smooth wood. The ice feels heavenly on your enflamed bruised knuckles.

Jerry pours out two fingers of whiskey over ice and plops it down in front of you.

“I didn’t order this,” you say, staring longingly at the amber booze calling your name even as you deny it.

He ticks his head toward the other end of the bar. You glance in that direction and see the unknown, well-dressed man who had been watching you the whole night raise his glass with a downward tilt of his head before taking a sip.

Normally you didn’t accept drinks from men - it gave them the wrong idea - but you are just interested enough to break the rules this one time. You take the offered drink and raise it in return, dipping your chin before taking a large sip. It burns down your throat in the most delicious way, promising a hangover in the morning, but you don’t care.

That was invitation enough for him to get up from his seat and prowl towards you. He walks with predatory feline grace, confident and powerful. It practically commands you to watch his long legs eat up the distance until he is beside you at the bar, leaning his back against it so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his cologne. Masculine leather and spicy musk that cuts through the stale smoke and old beer that permeates the air of the bar.

“You handled yourself well,” he comments lightly, a hint of pride, or possibly admiration, warming the praise. His almost-gravely voice drips with velvet sin. You can’t help but wonder what your name would sound like wrapped in that rich accent and delivered against the flushed skin of your neck

You take another sip of the liquor to blame it for the pulse hammering away at your throat. “Not my first time pissing assholes off because the think my being here is an open invitation. Won’t be the last.”

“Loki.” He gestures to himself and then holds out his hand for you to shake. “And you are?”

You slip your intact hand into his and tell him your name. It spills from his mouth like a prayer and he lifts your knuckles to brush against the soft warmth of his lips for a brief moment before releasing you.

His hand, large and thin-fingered, holds the ice pack over your knuckles - it had fallen off when you shook his hand - so that you can take another sip of your whiskey. The intimacy of the act was shocking and sends a hot wave of desire to the pit of your belly. “Whoever would be foolish enough to underestimate you deserves the punishment given to them.”

You nod at Jerry to get two more glasses of whiskey sent your way as you both down the remnants of your drinks. You take the second shot of liquid courage quickly. It’s cheap, burns like hell, and makes you exhale through your teeth, but it gets the job done.

“They don’t normally make the same mistake twice,” you admit with a confident smile. Self-defense classes came in handy when you wanted to wander around at night alone.

He exposes the fair column of his throat to you as he also knocks back his own drink. After he sets the glass back down on the countertop solidly, he skates his fingers across the swelling flesh of your cheek with all the tenderness of a lover.

“That looks to be bruising. Best take care of it.”

The look burning in his emerald eyes speaks of a completely different method of taking care of you than tending to your meager injuries. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and his attention is fixated on your parted lips as your tongue seeks to copy his.

You regain eye contact with Loki and stand up, close enough that your chests brush against each other with each breath and your fingers skate across the back of his hand. “Put it on my tab, Jerry.”

The wolfish grin tugging at his lips raises the hair on the back of your neck. He removes the ice pack and drops it to the bar before lighting his hand upon the small of your back. You lead the way out of the bar and into the cool fall air.

He steps in front of you, crowding you with his impressive height and broad shoulders, his chin dips down as he takes you in with heat burning in his emerald eyes. “I am not positive that we will have time to make it to my home before your cheek requires further attention.”

You curl your fingers into the open front of his jacket and tug him into you so that you’re pressed together from hips to chest, lifting your chin so that your whispered words feather your lips against his. “What a shame.”

A low growl tears from his throat as he suddenly claims your mouth for his. He tastes of whiskey and desire and salt as his tongue slips between your lips to plunder your mouth. He walks you back until you're pressed in between the lean muscle of his body and the rough brick of the wall, his leg sliding between yours to hold you in place so that his hands can rub tantalizingly up and down your sides. They come to rest on your ass, gathering the pliant flesh in his hands and rolling your hips into his as he expertly works his lips against yours.

When you pull away, panting for air, he trails hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down to your neck, sucking on the soft flesh over your hammering pulse. Desire floods between your legs, and you can feel the evidence of his, long and hard, as it rocks against your hip bone. You tangle a hand into his long raven hair and the other slides down the length of his torso. His muscles twitch beneath his clothing at the firm touch. Your hand settles on the length of him over his clothes, rubbing and teasing him in the privacy of your tangled bodies tucked away in the shadows.

He wrenches his mouth from your feverish flesh and rests his forehead against yours, panting from desire. The pupils of his eyes are blown and his tongue darts out to wet his parted lips.

“Do not begin anything that you cannot finish,” he warns, low and seductive, dangerous.

You duck your head to trace a vein in his neck with the tip of your tongue, making him twitch in your hand. “My apartment is just two blocks from here.”

You have to practically jog to keep up with him as he heads off in your pointed direction.

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

What Mattered Most (2)

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam

Summary: Dean wakes to find she’s gone. What would make his best friend leave him? Sam may just know.

A/n: This will be a mini-series of two to three parts, based on the song “What Mattered Most” by Ty Herndon. This has been rumbling around in my head for a while, so I finally committed to getting it down. This is a little later than I was hoping to get it to you today, for that I apologize. 

Warnings: Angst. Sadness.

Dean stood in the doorway of the bunker’s kitchen, resting his weight against the wide frame as you stood at the stove, flipping sizzling bacon in a cast iron skillet. Your hips were swaying to the sounds of music flowing from your headphones and you would shimmy your waist every few beats, oblivious to the world and thoroughly enjoying the Saturday morning off. A smile played at his lips as he watched you, content to savor the moments where you were lost in a melody as you took care of him and Sammy.

You turned slightly and caught his movement out of the corner of your eye, making you jump and yank the cords from your ears, “Dean! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you yelled, clutching a hand to your chest.

A small chuckle erupted as he held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, you can’t blame me. There was no way I was going to ruin that show.”

Dean smirked as your cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink and a hint of a grin made a small dimple appear on the left side of your mouth.

He loved mornings like this; in the safety of his home, his brother snoring down the hall, and his favorite girl waiting for him to wake up.

“Yeah… well, you could have warned me. Not given me a heart attack.” You grumbled, but still cheekily beaming as you turned your back to him, setting to work at the stove with the pancake batter.

Dean moved slowly, placing a foot in front of the other methodically and allowing his strong legs to carry him to you. He rounded the small island, reveling in the sight of your falling in ribbons around a messy bun and your bare legs tucked beneath your sleep shorts.

It was a sight he adored. You.

When he reached you, he planted his feet on either side of your stance, his arms sensuously winding around your midsection. His fingertips trailed lightly against the skin exposed as he pressed his lips against your collarbone.

“How are you this morning, sweetheart?” he purred, caressing the shell of your ear with his mouth.

Reaching behind you to thread your fingers in his soft locks, you replied with a hum, “I’m good. Slept well, had good dreams.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned mischievously. “About me?” he asked, attaching himself to your backside and locking you within his large frame.

You giggled. He could get lost in your laughter. “Of course, honey. Always about you.”

He spun you gently to cage you against the counter, leaning in to run his nose along the curve of your jaw, “I had good dreams too. I missed you when you weren’t there when I woke up, though.” his lips curling while he brushed a few stray hairs from your face, feeling the smoothness of your skin against his palm.

Stretching to your toes, you pressed a longing kiss to his plump lips, slipping your hands under the hem of his shirt to feel his muscle beneath. Dean knew he could live in this feeling for eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you whined, hugging him tightly and burying yourself in his chest, “but I had to go.”

“Go?” Dean questioned, confusion knitting his brow.

“Yeah, Dean.” You stated simply, pulling away from his embrace to look into his eyes, a sadness in your voice that he hadn’t heard before. “Remember? I left. I’m not here anymore.”

Dean stood speechless, witnessing the once happy glow fade from your gaze. A single tear flowed down your cheek, but you were steadily fading even as he still felt your warmth in his arms. “Y/n…”

Before he could continue, you slipped from his grasp, his hands still reaching for you as you vanished, words echoing in the darkness, “I’m gone. You can’t find me. I’m never coming home.”

Dean awoke gripping the sheets around him, a thin layer of sweat covering the length of his body and a panic in his chest that he couldn’t calm. He sat up quickly, searching his surroundings for something he wasn’t sure he’d lost. Sleep still fogging his memory, he struggled to remember what he was holding onto, but his dream haunted him none-the-less. He shook the covers from his legs and swung his bedroom door open with force, moving towards the room across the hall. Sam’s gentle snores could be heard from behind his cracked door to the left as he stood in front of yours.

When he twisted the knob gently and the door opened with a whine. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the pitch-black space to reveal a pristine, yet empty bedroom. He felt his stomach turn in knots and his eyes burn with fresh tears.

It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t his imagination… You really were gone.

He’d tried for two months to find you, but every shred of your identity was left behind. Every link or connection he had turned up empty. Fake badges, ID’s, and every burner phone he knew of yours sat on the small desk adjacent to your bed. He dragged his body towards it, slumping into the chair and resting his elbows on his knees to run a hand through his hair tiredly. Retrieving your most recent license from the stack before him, he took a moment to study the photo displayed on the plastic pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. The smile hidden beneath them.

The images of his dream flooded back to him. He felt your skin touching his, your body cradled against him, and the smell of your shampoo. His hands could still feel your heat, though they were cold to the touch.

The scene in his vision wasn’t entirely fantasy, but one that he’d been a part of years ago. A memory of breakfasts you’d shared so many times made his chest tighten in agony. They were always filled with laughter and deep conversations. The secrets you kept from the world were often shared over the most amazing coffee and arguments ensued over the last shred of bacon. The only difference now was the intimacy. The touching. The kissing. Holding each other. That was something that had never been reality. It was never that he didn’t love you—at least not in the profound, elegant way, but rather it was something that hadn’t blossomed within him, until recently.

Until Sam told him everything. Until you left.

Now there was a longing in his heart that bloomed like a thirst that could never be satiated. He reasoned that it was just the feeling of missing his best friend, the person that had been there for him through all of the ups and downs that accompanied this life. But he knew. Deep within him, Dean knew he was in love with you—he could deny it, pretend he didn’t know the feeling, but there was no mistaking it. He also knew that he was too arrogant to appreciate it when he’d had the chance to act. He drove you away to the point that you didn’t want to be found, all the while burying himself into a hole of his own creation. He could try to move on, to try to forget and pretend to be his old self with a devil-may-care attitude, but there would be no use.

He stood from your desk chair and moved to stand by your bed, envisioning you lying there curled beneath your favorite blanket. Strangely enough, your scent was still etched into the very fabric of the room he now stood in. Your once decorated nightstand and dresser were bare, drained of the photos that use to adorn them. Dean resisted the urge to crawl into your bed and instead settled for running his fingertips along the hem of your pillow, cold and unused.

Dean shuffled back to the confines and darkness of his own room; closing your door to hide the haunting sight of its bareness, before slowly lowering himself back onto his mattress. He tucked himself tightly beneath the sheets, praying for the release of sleep if only to see you once again.

Hours passed before he was being gently shaken awake by Sam informing him of a case. In a state of confusion and hollowness, Dean packed his small bag of belongings and kept the radio silent during the entire drive, pertinently ignoring Sam’s questioning stares. He tried to pretend with Sam; pretend he wasn’t torn apart, but his brother knew him all too well.

Now, here he was, in a bar in nowhere, Nebraska, trying to chase the tiniest bit of his sorrow away. They’d arrived in town at 7 p.m., too late to follow any leads of the case, so Sam elected to stay behind and do research as Dean elected to do anything but stare at motel room walls.

“Another round?” the bartender asked.

“Yeah, then close out my tab.” Dean replied; opting that two was actually a good place to stop for the evening, something he potentially wouldn’t have done two months ago.

The bartender, a man probably in his late 40′s and hardened by life, grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured another three fingers over the remaining ice in Dean’s glass, “You from around here?”

“No.” Dean shook his head, lifting the amber liquid to his lips. “Just in town for a few days.”

“Didn’t think so. Only a few newbies ever make there way to these parts. But, let me give you some advice…” the stranger replied, reaching behind him, “This place has the best steak in town. My neighbor owns it; it’s an institution around here.” He set a paper menu in front of Dean on the glistening wood, next to the coaster that would house his drink.

Dean picked it up, prepared to thank him before he excused himself to help the new round of guests that poured in.

As he was studying the menu, a commotion sounded from the other end of the room, where two men were in a heated discussion about a recent game of pool. Dean took notice of the increase in bodies in the small area, not surprising for a Friday evening in a small town bar. At the other end of the space, a squeal from the speakers sounded as a few workers set up equipment for karaoke that would apparently be happening later that evening.

Glasses clinked together, the cracks and clanks of the balls being pushed by  pool cues flooded his hears, and voices sounded from all around him; but nothing could have drowned out the sound of the voice he’d missed for months.

“Can I have a Jack and coke, please?” he heard from the opposite end of the bar, causing him to freeze. It was unmistakable.

He slowly turned his eyes in the direction of the wonderfully chilling melody and was met with the sight of you leaning over the edge of the bar, your Y/h/c hair falling in waves around your face and your eyes shining as you smiled at the bartender.

Dean attempted to force every cell of his body to tear his eyes away from you, but to no avail. Your skin was flushed and healthy. You were wearing a new shade of lipstick; a slightly darker red then the natural pigment of the flesh of your lips.

The bartender passed you a glass as you left a few bills on the counter, but you stayed planted where you were standing when you ordered. There was a lightness to you that Dean hadn’t witnessed in many years, feeling a fresh wave of guilt as the knowledge passed that it had been his doing that you’d lost it.

As he was taking you in, Dean felt a new found determination and strength to right whatever he’d done wrong. In that moment, he’d give anything to give you everything.

He began to stand, until he heard your name called.

A new fire rose to your eyes as you glanced in the direction from which it came, a bright, dazzling smile gracing your lips.

Dean watched as a man made his way through the crowd, steadfastly making his way to you.

And when that man captured your lips with his, Dean felt his heart shatter.

To be continued...

<Part 1 / Part 3>

Masterlist

[starshineskyandthepowerofrock]

The First Step

Part 2 of Starshine, Sky, and the Power of Rock.

Wow. Just... wow. I'm gorgeous. I run my hairbrush through my lavender hair one more time, mostly just to savor the smooth, silky texture under my manicured fingers. Just looking at my hands, you'd never guess they were callused from playing guitar. I close my eyes one at a time, and as I gaze into the wall-sized mirror in my walk-in closet, my glossed lips tug themselves into a little smile, because my cosmetologist really didn't have to go that hard on my lids, but he did. Speaking of my favorite servants, I think my tailors have hit a new high because this dress has a beautifully layered skirt with the perfect amount of poof, and they knew how well midnight blue goes with my tan complexion. I roll my right wrist, something I'm prone to do since the tiny silver bracelet my parents gave me when I first got adopted is a lot tighter on fourteen-year-old me than it was on six-year-old me, but I'm not gonna not wear it! My fuzzy cat ears twitch as I place the finishing touch between them: a gem-encrusted tiara, the center gem of course taking the form of my favorite shape, a star. No points for guessing why that is.

I'm not always this well-dressed... Well, okay, I'm always well-dressed but today especially so because it marks one of the most important days of my life. I'm not supposed to go out there before I'm called, but now that I'm ready, the urge to make a premature entrance is incredibly strong. But I can't do that, it would throw everything off-schedule! So, I'll just have to make do until then. Eight years of being my only consistent friend in this behemoth of a palace has left me really, really good at entertaining myself.

I exit my closet, cross my bedroom, and seat myself at my desk. I open my journal to a fresh page, and close my eyes to sit in my thoughts for a minute, only for a minute to turn into a half-hour, because the palace is moving abnormally fast in order to pick up kids from all over the kingdom in just one day, and the sound of the air rushing by my window is far too interesting. Deciding to write whatever comes to mind, because there's a lot of thoughts right now, I pick up my pencil and get to work. Every few minutes, my stomach drops gently until the distinct thud of the palace's base touching the ground comes. The stream of graphite thoughts pouring onto the paper is stoppered each time, and I stare past the wall in front of me to imagine what the kids from this province will be like. My head turns to the glass double-doors leading to my personal balcony, and I take in the clues as to where I am. Elegant mansions framed by lush plant life signal we've reached Hillside, snowflakes in late summer indicate the Frostlands, streets paved with rock candy mean we've reached Dulcet Falls, and so on. At one point, all I can see is a featureless field, and the rumble of a spaceship landing means the kids from the Lunar Alliance must be here. With each landing, a new burst of voices bubbles up from floors beneath me. My longing to see new faces, finally the same age as me, finally in the same class as me, grows greater and greater each time. I truly can't believe this day will be the day I-

A knock at my door sends my heart into a frenzy. I stand up and snap my journal shut in one move. I take one last look out my window, and see the stormy Isle of Isolation separated from me by miles of shimmering blue ocean, which means we've landed on the East Shore. The kids from Saline Deep are here, and they're last on the list, which means it's time! I stop in front of the mirror for what is supposed to be a quick wrinkle-check on my dress, but I guess I'm a second too long because the servant at my door speaks up.

"Your Highness, ten minutes to showtime."

An involuntary yelp escapes my mouth. "Coming!" I reply, and soon I'm speeding down the spacious halls as fast as my high heels will allow. The next few minutes are a whirl of knots of excitement in my stomach and vocal warm-ups and warm honey-lemon sprayed into my throat at just the right angle as to be effective without making me cough. The music of the Band of Light rolls from the stage, and my heart beats in time with the drums. The first chorus is almost over, and then, just like we practiced... then... then...

"And now, students of the Royal Academy of Rock," the announcer's voice booms, "the moment you've been waiting for..."

Yes...

"The Heir to Light..."

Yes, that's me...

"Your destined savior..."

Yes, yes, yes...

"and your future queen..."

Yes, very accurate, we're so close...

"Her Royal Highness, PRINCESS! STAR! SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!"

I bound onstage, right to my designated tape X, and a wave of adoring screams nearly knocks me over. My hips, my arms, my everything moves to the beat. I'm one with the music, analog yet pulsing with electric power. This is the auditory paradise of rock. The lyrics flow from the depths of my belly, clear and controlled. The only thing I'm princess of right now is the stage beneath my decorated feet. My euphoria numbs the pain in my cheeks from endless smiling at my adoring subjects, who, starting tomorrow, will be my adoring classmates. The controlled storm of perfect noise climbs to a glorious climax and falls to silence, which is soon broken by another wave of cheers.

"Hello, everyone!" I mean to say but end up shouting into the mic. More cheers make my heart do a back flip in glee. "I'm... SOOOOO excited to get to meet you all! From now on, I'm your classmate, Star, so let's have an amazing four years and train to OFFICIALLY join the Band of Light!"

The stage melts into fairy dust beneath us. The accompaniment and I are lowered to the floor of the throne room. I curtsy and nod and make joyful greetings my whole way down to the three gem-encrusted thrones on the other side of the stage. My parents are already there, dressed in gowns practically spun from sun and moonlight. My mom, Queen Diamond Shine, smiles serenely at me as I make my way over to them. My mama, Queen Sunshine, rises from the center throne and wraps her arms around me in a delighted hug, which I return. My hands stop at her shoulders as usual, because if they tried to reach her back, they'd run into her golden fairy wings. Her tightly curled, yellow hair is cornrowed on one side and set free on the other and her deep skin sparkles with flecks of gold. She kisses my cheek and we sit down.

"Ohmygoodnessohmygoodnessohmygoodness," I rave to them. "I. Can't. BELIEVE this is happening!"

"Believe it," Mama says. She takes Mom's hand and gives it a squeeze. They exchange proud smiles, which makes my smile only widen.

The announcer next to my throne removes a sizable scroll from his pastel jacket, signaling the First Year Introductions are about to begin. This has happened at every Orientation Day I've been to since my first year as a royal at age six. Every year, I got but a taste of the students of the Academy, because at any other time during the school year we were "distractions to each other," so my contact with them was as limited as possible. But now... now I'm meeting kids I'll know for years to come. I'll grow with them, I'll learn with them, I'll-

"STAR, OH MY GOODNESS, HI!" a certain flame-haired catboy shouts before pulling me into a hug.

Okay, so my friend count isn't zero, stop taking everything so literally. But Citrus was my friend in the orphanage even before I was a princess, so he was an easy one when he started going here last year. But it's been a lot harder to make new friends since I moved to a palace that doesn't stay in one spot for longer than a few days.

"Hi, Citrus!" I say, returning his hug but immediately pulling back. "The Introductions are for first years, and you're a second year."

Citrus' eyes flick from the announcer, who looks a bit miffed that he's been delayed, back to me. He blinks, then smiles. "Oh, you're right, we'll catch up later!"

"Oh, no, don't let me scare you away!" I say. "Here, sit. Help me break the ice." I pat the arm of my throne, which is broad enough for him to sit on. And sit he does.

Most of the kids greet me the way you'd expect people to greet arguably the most famous person alive. High-pitched laughter, clumsy curtsies and bows, not knowing what words are right so settling on not words but incomprehensible wails. They'll get used to me. My joy comes from guessing how they'll be once they've regained the ability to speak. I am able to strike up a couple brief conversations, with help from Citrus, but they are few and far between. Par for the course, all of it, nothing to get upset over.

There are a few things nagging at me through all this, I will admit. See, early on in the long list of first years, the announcer called out an "Ack... dah... ler, Sky...laaar..?" a name that simply did not sound like a name – at least not the kind I was used to hearing – and also a name to which no one responded. I expected the unfortunate bearer of this name to approach timidly, explain that the pronunciation was wrong, and be too embarrassed to ever speak to me again. Instead, no one came, and so Introductions continued. I'd turned to my parents at this moment. Mom was leaning towards Mama, whispering confusedly into her pointed ear. Mama wasn't concerned, though, so neither was I. I haven't forgotten that, though...

The other thing is that, every year, the palace takes off the moment all the students are safely inside. It's usually a big deal. But now that I think of it... I'm compelled to raise to my feet.

"Is something wrong, Star?" Mom asks.

"I'd just like to look out a window for a second," I say. And I go to do just that, with Citrus right behind me.

"What's going on?" Citrus asks.

But I'm already at the nearest window. "I knew it," I say. "What are we still doing on the East Shore?"

Citrus gives a small frown of confusion. "Good question," he says.

With night falling, the Isle of Isolation stands out much clearer as the towns or whatever monsters live in begin to light up. Now I remember why I don't like landing on the East Shore. Those monsters can practically see us from their houses! Just because I was destined to defeat them doesn't mean I'm ready to face them today! I march back to my throne.

"Why are we still on the ground?" I ask my parents.

Mom adopts her serious face. "I've been meaning to ask that question myself," she says, looking at Mama.

Mama inspects her gilded nails. "There's a straggler or two. We can't leave until everyone's here," she says casually.

"Uh, yeah," I say, "But there's a point when a straggler becomes a no-show."

Mama smiles. "Trust me," she says. "Anyone with what it takes to get into here is not a no-show."

Mom raises an eyebrow, but leaves it be. So I do the same.

I've managed to miss a couple letters' worth of surnames during my time away and we're now approaching the G's.

"Oh no," Citrus whispers. "More Glades, I bet."

I flip my hair over my shoulder in disapproval. "Citrus, the Glade bloodline has served the royal family for generations, we can't go disrespecting them like that," I say loudly. Then, I drop my voice to an undertone. "A set of quadruplets came in last year. Why would they want to deal with a fifth one?" We giggle behind our hands.

"Glade, Gossamer!" the announcer shouts.

We stop giggling. Five elf girls, four familiar and one new, sashay my way. Each sports an impressive volume of bouncy forest green ringlets. Breezy, Aspen, Dewdrop, and... ugh... Summer Glade have this new girl flanked on all sides. They're all decked out in typical Hillside flair, with flowing fabric and dainty jewelry and oh, so many flowers. This introduction is supposed to be about Gossamer, mind, but Summer is the one to speak up before this girl so much as opens her mouth.

"This is Gossamer, I'm sure you've heard," she says, placing a ringed hand on her sister's head. "We know she can't technically be in our band, but she's basically going to be with us, so... you know..." She gives me a simpering smile.

I look her up and down, not changing my expression. "What do I know?"

Summer fails to hold back a scoff. "Oh, you know how far back our families go... even if you're adopted... So, why not extend some of that, ah, specialness to our little sister here?"

I raise my eyebrows, as though I only now understand the implications, despite them being the same implications she's been dropping since exactly a year ago when she pulled this exact shtick for herself. "Oh, I see, yes!" I giggle. "Well, Summer, I assure you your sister will be recognized as just as special as you four."

Summer smiles brightly, triumphant.

"...Who are all just as special as everyone else here," I say, unblinking.

Summer's smile decays into a barely concealed scowl. "Okay," she says, and pulls her sister away with the rest of her little crew.

Citrus leans towards me once more. "How can you even stand talking to her? Remember when she dumped chili in my shoes?"

I smooth my skirt, not looking up. "Of course I do. But I'm in school now, and I can deal, honeybun. Stick with me and you'll be fine."

A few more nervous greetings later, and yet another cause for concern arises. This time, a guard comes. He's soaked. I'd hardly realized it's been raining outside. He leans towards Mom and whispers in her ear. If he's only telling her, it must be a safety concern.

Okay, hold on, calm down. Mom will have it taken care of. I avert my eyes from them, trying not to eavesdrop, but the guard has severely underestimated the hearing ability of cat people and I can't help picking up one word: vampire. Citrus heard it too. We look at each other with concern, then both turn to my parents. The guard hands Mom an iridescent envelope. It looks like an acceptance letter to the school. Mom turns it over in her hands, brow knit. She stands, clearly ready for action, but Mama grabs her arm.

"May I see that?" she asks.

Mom hands her the envelope, and Mama inspects it herself. "Describe them," Mama finally says, not looking up.

"Adolescent female. Black cloak. Uh, yay tall," the guard says, gesturing to about the height of his shoulder.

"Does she have albinism?" Mama asks.

The guard blinks confusedly. "Uh, I'm no doctor, but probably?"

Mama smiles. "Oh, it's her!" She scoffs. "And you had me worried! Bring her in."

The guard stares for a moment, then leaves.

This whole conversation makes absolutely no sense to me, but I figure Mama knows what she's doing. Mom, on the other hand, seems apprehensive.

"Why don't I just go check things out real quick?" she asks, gathering her skirts.

"That won't be necessary, Diamond," Mama replies.

Mom hesitates for a moment, but relents. "Okay," she sighs then sits down, leg clearly bouncing beneath her gown.

Everything is seemingly normal for a few moments, but the great doors to the throne room suddenly begin to creak. A sliver of light forms between them as they open, and a cloaked figure stands in the center of the doorway. Beneath the shadowy hood, all I can make out are two glowing pupils, burning white hot. The stranger, trailing rainwater from their worn combat boots, makes their way across the now silent throne room. All eyes are on them as they trudge forward, straight for me. Is this... Is this the vampire they were talking about? But, no, that was impossible because what would a vampire be doing in our school? Plus, vampires have red eyes. These eyes are more of a very pale blue, which I suppose is slightly less unsettling. Nevertheless, I shrink back into my throne until my back is flat against the seat back.

The person now stands before us, not bowing or anything. I turn to Mama. Her smile hasn't faded during all of this.

"Ah, Skylar Acdalur, so glad you could join us. I understand you've had a long journey?" Mama asks, as though this person isn't dripping all over the freshly polished floor.

Skylar, apparently, nods.

Mama takes a quick glance at their cloak before remaking eye contact. "I can have someone take your cloak for you."

Skylar's eyes widen. "Oh!" they say. Skylar quickly removes the tattered cloak, revealing an incredibly pale, skinny girl underneath. And when I say pale, I mean you could lose her in a snowstorm because her skin, her hair, her everything is ghostly white, save her eyes, which are still blue, though no longer glowing. The pointed ears protruding from her messy hair make me initially think her a diseased, abnormally poor elf. But then too many points click. The sunken, glowing eyes... the fact that we're right next to the Isle of Isolation... I look down at her mouth...

Fangs!