#and she’s looking for answers and they’re just this weird cat and mouse

[waayoutofline]

Murder on the Dance Floor (part 2)

(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha

Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?

Warnings: A tiny bit suggestive.

WORD COUNT: 2724

The pulsing beat of the music could be heard from outside the dimly lit street, matching Natasha’s tense state. She was usually calm, collected when handling missions, but this was the exception—because this time, she was working with you. Just the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Honestly, if someone had told her a year ago that she’d agree to cooperate with you of all people, she would have laughed right to their face. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to get her hands on Horvat, and, unfortunately, you were her best—if only—shot at it.

Adjusting her earpiece, Natasha willed herself forward, slipping past security and flashing one of her fake IDs to the bouncer. After a quick nod, she was finally able to sweep her gaze over the crowd moving around the dance floor. In her earpiece, Yelena’s voice crackled. “See her yet?”

“No,” Natasha muttered, keeping her tone low as she moved toward a secluded spot by the bar. “She’s late. And honestly, I’m not even surprised.”

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm. She seems…”

“Irresponsible? Selfish? A brat?” Natasha interrupted, her words sharp as she shrugged off her vest and left it on the stool beside her. “Those are just on top my head.”

“I was going for interesting. I have never seen anyone getting under your skin the way she does.” The redhead rolled her eyes, tapping her feet on the ground as she was searching between the participants.

”This is just unprofessional. I mean, who even isn’t on time for their own plan?” She sighs. “I should've known she’d pull something like this.”

Natasha remembers perfectly your encounter a few hours ago. 

The two of you ended up meeting in a neutral spot to, as you put it, “chat things up.” It was weird for the two of you to just… talk. You were as teasing as ever when you explained that the way for you both to gain access to the Hydra operative was to do something as ridiculous as joining a dance competition.

“You are joking.” Natasha repeated, baffled. But you made no move to correct yourself. 

“It is what it is, Agent Romanoff. Seems our friend is one of those eccentric types—loves all forms of art, but dance is his favourite. The competition is being held here by him.” You handed her a slip of paper with a hastily scribbled address and a list of pairs. “These are the couples registered.”

Natasha scanned it, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Wait—some of these couples, I know them. They’re actual professionals, Raven,” she noted, using your codename. Not like she was sure that the name you’d given her was even your real one.

“Oh, calm down agent. You’ve got me on your dream team now,” you answered with a wink that did nothing to reassure her. “And it’s not like we have other options. The winners get a super-duper exclusive VIP card that grants access to the elite party Horvat is hosting.”

Natasha’s reluctance must’ve been clear because you sighed in exasperation at the clear lack of enthusiasm. “Look, it’s the best I could do given your strict rules, alright?”

“I wouldn’t say that not murdering or maiming anyone counts as strict rules,” she replied, unimpressed. 

“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure? Aren’t you the fearless Black Widow?” you teased, your voice low, just loud enough for her to hear. You leaned in, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “And here thought you were this fearless superspy. But See, I have a different perspective. To these people, we’re just amateurs. That’s our advantage.”

“Is it?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp, but something about the way you were looking at her made her uneasy.

You grinned, stepping closer, your breath warm against her ear as you leaned in conspiratorially. “Absolutely. They won’t even see it coming when I take them down one by one…”

The intensity in your voice caught her off guard. There was something almost dangerous in your tone, that manic glint in your eyes that she couldn’t quite ignore. Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she put distance and shot you a warning glare.

You slightly raised your hands in mock surrender, but there was still something in your smile that made her pulse quicken. “Alright, alright, no need for that. I promise, no murder on the dance floor. Besides, I’m not here to show off.”

Her gaze never left you, knowing better than to believe that. You thrived on chaos, on the twisted thrill of it all. And she hated how it seemed to pull her in each time, how close you were making her feel to something she couldn’t quite control.

“This is the plan,” you continued, your voice soft but insistent. “We get through a few rounds, win that VIP pass, and make it into Horvat’s inner circle. Nice and easy.”

You closed the distance even more, your face just inches from hers. Without hesitation, you pulled a card from your pocket, letting it slip between your fingers with a practised ease. “Here’s the address. Dress to impress. Preferably black and burgundy?” you murmured, your hand brushing against her chest as you slipped it into the pocket of her vest, your fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “The color really suits your eyes.” You purred. 

Natasha could feel the heat of your touch, every movement too intimate for comfort, and yet, she couldn’t look away. You had a way of getting close—too close—and she watched every movement, every subtle shift of your body, all while her heart beat a little faster than she wanted to admit. It was like every single nerve on her body screaming in conflict whenever you acted this dangerously. 

She is only bought out of her stupor when she notices a shift in between the crowd. For an instant, she thinks that the contest already started, but that thought quickly goes away when she saw the true reason for the multitude to part like melted butter.

There you are, walking as if you owned the place with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Seemingly ignoring all the eyes landing on you like dominoes and yet preening under the attention like a lazy cat basking under the sun. Your smile was deceivingly innocent, gentle yet cocky in the subtlest of ways. 

Her eyes couldn’t help to take you in. 

The dark red dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, like a second skin, as if melting with each of your movements. The dress was seamless, held up only by thin straps that dipped into a daring neckline, exposing just enough to make anyone want more. The shimmering sequins embroidered along the curve of your hips glinted teasingly under the retro disco ball, casting a mesmerizing array of shimmering reds. The lacy fringe of the hem stopped just shy of your mid-thigh, blending with the flowery skirt that revealed both your legs in tantalizing glimpses.

As embarrassing as it was, she was just another victim that couldn’t seem to take her eyes away. Try to regain composure, she did her best to maintain a bit of her dignity, not wanting to give you any leash for you to tug on. 

Taking a steadying breath, Natasha forced herself to fold her arms, straighten her spine, and lift her chin, trying to cloak herself in her usual calm and untouchable persona. But her eyes had a mind of their own, betraying her as they lingered on you, watching every movement despite herself.

When you finally reached her, your gaze met hers, and Natasha had the unsettling feeling that you saw right through every barrier she’d put up. That awareness sent a chill of discomfort down her spine. Stepping closer, you set your purse down on the stool beside her with slow, deliberate movements that she couldn’t help but follow. Without breaking eye contact, you smirked.

“Enjoying the view, Agent Romanoff?” you purred, each word slipping from your lips as if laced with honey. But Natasha knew that the sweetness could be someone’s poison just as easily.

She scoffed. “Your arrogance is staggering.”

Feigning a pout, you tilted your head, feigning hurt. “Is it so wrong to give a lady a compliment once in a while?” Then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned in, letting your gaze trace over her in a way that was unmistakably bold, yet foolishly innocent. “Well, I’m not scared to admit that you look gorgeous.”

You complimented while taking her in. 

Her hair was pinned up into a tight braid that left her neck exposed. The dark red shirt she wore clung to her perfectly, the satin fabric being comfortable and hinting at the lines of muscle and curves beneath. Sleeveless, it exposed her toned arms. The neckline went straight into a tight V, just enough for showing the delicate, pale skin of her sternum. Opting for practically, she paired it with paired with sleek, tailored trousers in a matching deep red—almost black in the low light (not that she had in mind your previous recommendation when choosing this of course). A polished belt cinched her waist, the silver buckle slightly off centred.  There was no doubt in your mind that she wore a strapped in blade attached to her ankle, ready and waiting. 

The thought did nothing but send a rush of excitement up your spine.

A blur at the corner of your vision catches your attention, and the teasing persona you reserve for Natasha vanishes abruptly. As much as you enjoyed being the cause of her losing her composure, you had a job to do—and you’d be damned if you failed.

Without giving Natasha a chance to react, you catch her shoulders and pull her against you, manoeuvring both of you closer to the bar. Natasha flinches slightly at the sudden movement, instinctively placing one arm around your waist and the other on the counter to steady herself. Her eyes widen as she meets your gaze up close, the rich scent of vanilla filling her senses.

Your cool hand resting on her bare shoulder makes her breath catch in her throat. “What do you think you’re doing?” she manages to say, intending it to sound like a reprimand, but the words come out soft and breathless, betraying her surprise.

“Just trying to avoid starting at a disadvantage,” you replied smoothly, as if the lack of distance between you two wasn’t affecting you in the slightest. Natasha hated that—hated how unbothered you seemed. If anything, you leaned in even closer, your lips hovering just shy of her ear. Natasha heard a muted complaint of disgust, followed by her sister saying something about “This is worse than Papa and Mama.Cutting off now.” She wasn’t really paying attention.

“Over my shoulder. One of the three judges,” you murmured, voice low and soft against her skin. “They’re not just ranking our dancing skills, but the… chemistry between partners. So if you want this to go smoothly, I’d suggest pretending you don’t hate my guts for a while.”

The last sentence dripped with a teasing mockery, and Natasha clenched her jaw, willing herself not to react. The word "hate" echoed in her mind, though, twisting uncomfortably as if not really settling in. Hate wasn’t exactly the word she’d use to describe her…complex feelings about you. Sure, you were frustrating, irritating, and always knew how to push her buttons with an infuriating ease. 

But did she really hate you?

She shook her head. This was exactly what she couldn’t stand about you—the way you made her doubt herself, fall into chaos in her own mind. She couldn’t afford to debate what she really thought about you now. Closing her eyes briefly, she exhaled, letting her professional persona handle her next movements. This was a mission like any other. And Natasha Romanoff always succeeded in her missions.

Just as she was about to locate the judge you’d told her about, her eyes fell on three men across the dance floor, next to the snack table. There was no mistaking the way their eyes draped all over you, watching you with no shame as their mouths likely ran with sick and degrading comments about what they would do with someone like you.

A tightening feeling in her chest struck her, taking root until the infection controlled her next actions. Strengthening her grip on your waist, Natasha pressed further into you, subtly spinning your bodies so that her taller frame shielded you from predatory eyes. Noticing the change in her demeanour and the way she glared at something behind you, you tilted your head slightly but decided to not comment on it. As much as you liked to keep her on her toes, you knew when to refrain yourself. 

“I assume you got the judge’s backgrounds?” she muttered, leaning in closer, taking a page from your book. Her hand slid over your waist, caressing your side while maintaining a firm, almost possessive grip. Lost at the moment, you opened your mouth to answer, but hesitated, caught off guard by the soft, deliberate touch. You couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved that she was listening to you or startled by how her fingers seemed to burn against your covered skin.

Natasha’s eyes glinted as they dropped onto you, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her features at the rare sight of you losing your so well maintained composure. You never stuttered, always remaining a step ahead, but for once, it was you who was caught off guard. If only for a fleeting moment, Natasha couldn’t help but take the moment in, greedily absorbing your hesitation. Is this what you felt when you got under her skin?

For anybody who glared at you two, it would seem like an intimate couple, flirting and rendering each other speechless with seductive flirtation and close touch. If that's what you demanded of her, then that’s what Natasha will deliver. 

Sensing this shift, you cleared your throat and did your best to regain control. To return to your sleek persona that you always maintained. “You assume well. The first one is Ethan Cole, a dance professor on a wealthy university. Had big dreams for Hollywood, but his addiction to gambling and alcohol closed those doors for him. Owes Horvat some numbers.”

Deliberately, you moved your hand to her jaw, redirecting her face to the right, then leaned in as if you were whispering something inappropriate in her ear. “The grey-haired man, Richard Harper. A self-declared “man of the arts,” you stated dramatically. “More like a man of perversion. He owns several sex clubs, most of which don’t follow safety regulations and serve as covers for prostitution rings.” Natasha clenched her jaw ever so slightly, the feeling of it under your fingertips making you sigh in satisfaction.

“Perhaps when we’re done with this I ought to pay him a visit,” you taunted, making Natasha turn to face you with a warning glare. Before she had time to respond, you silenced her with a gentle but firm motion.

“Right behind me, just a few stools away. The woman with glasses and uptight lips. Leah Montgomery. Our biggest threat to win the competition. She was in competitive figure skating, pretty good, too. Until tragedy struck and she ruptured her ACL. Clearly, she hasn’t got over it yet as she now spends her days tormenting her pupils, “encouraging” them in partaking into illegal substances to win her titles.” 

Just as you finished, the low bass music cut off, a call for all the participants to gather on the dance floor resonating through the walls. As everyone started to move toward the centre, Natasha eventually released her grip around you. Just as you were about to tease her about the reluctance, she placed her hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd.

Surprised, but not wanting to reveal your true feeling, you hummed pleasantly, masking the unexpected stir in your chest. Finally reaching your spot, Natasha extended her hand to you. Her eyes look down on you, the green of her irises going a few shades of green darker. But this time, you can't find the anger. No…it was something else that you haven’t quite seen before. 

Accepting her offering, you place your hand into hers. 

This will be interesting. 

[dude-boi]

In My Nightmares.

Summary: A “bonding” camping trip between the Pogues causes something to change between you and you sworn archnemesis, JJ. 

WC: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Smut, smut, smut, language, arguments, underage drinking and smoking. 

(Not proofread sorry)

JJ Maybank was a dick. an asshole, a douche, if you may. For whatever reason, the moment you both laid eyes on each other, it was war. Snide comments, blatant insults, and for some reason, weird sexual back talk filled the room whenever you both were 10 feet within each other. 

It started the year you met the rest of the Pogues. You were Kiara’s friend from the Kook Academy and she decided to introduce you to her other friends, her family. It wasn’t awkward or anything, you all hit it off really easily, having something in common with all of them. Not JJ though, he was at your throat. He didn’t like the idea of someone else trampling into their group. especially a kook.

“Really? You’re just gonna invite someone random?” He snapped the moment you started getting along with the rest. 

“Do we have an issue??” you spat back, glaring at him. 

He scoffed, “Yeah, you. You’re the fucking issue.” 

From then on, it’s been a cat and mouse game, going back and forth and back and forth. And then when Sarah was added to the group, he didn’t say shit. He wasn’t even angry and that made you upset. Why was he so pissed at you but not Sarah, the literal Kook princess? 

Fast forward a couple of years and here you are. Closer with the Pogues than ever, not even considered a kook, you barely even went home, like today. You slept over at the Chateau after a night of drinking and partying, waking up with a killer hangover. 

Slugging yourself off the couch, you dragged yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water. The door to John B’s room creaked open as Sarah walked out. 

“Hey, morning.” She yawned, walking behind you to also grab some water.

“G’morning Sarah,” you smiled, “do you know if we have anymore Advil, my head is murdering me.” You shook your head.

Before Sarah could answer, she was cut off. 

“Good, I hope it kills you!” JJ sneered as he walked into the kitchen, propping himself up onto the island. You rolled your eyes, raising your arm to flip him off as you continued searching the cabinets for meds. 

“As I was gonna say, JJ used the last of it.” Sarah told you. Great, of course he did. 

One by one, all the other Pogues began to wake up and the kitchen became more full with people. Sarah and Kie made pancakes for everyone while you and Pope sat on the couch, coming up for ideas on what to do for the day. John B and JJ waxed the surfboards, clearly wanting to surf. 

“I think we should just drive around, you know do something relaxing.” Pope suggested. “Maybe chill on the beach.” He shrugged, leaning back onto the couch. 

“Yeah, what about-” you were cut off when Kie yelled out for breakfast. 

“Pancakes are done! Y/N could you get JJ and John B I think they’re out back.” You nodded and trotted off to find them, 

You opened the door calling out to John B only. “John B pancakes are done, come eat before they go cold!” You ignored JJ as he turned his head to you, lifting an eyebrow while clearly waiting for you to acknowledge him too. 

He very loudly cleared his throat, “Ahem.” 

“Oh and for you JJ,” you paused for a moment, sarcastically thinking, “you can eat my ass.” 

“The fuck??” He protested loudly as you snorted and ran back inside. You sat down at the table, eating away and passing the syrup around the table. JJ marched in and scanned the table. 

“Your pancakes look good Y/N.” he smiled innocently. 

Your stomach fluttered a bit at his smile. “They’re the same fucking pancakes as all the other ones.” You continued eating. 

“Mind if I have a bite?” before you could deny and say no, he grabbed your whole plate and held it above you while his other hand was used to hold you down from tried to get it again.  “Stop it! Give it back asshole-” 

“Kiss me for it.” He shrugged, a shit eating grin sprawling across his face. 

The whole table went silent. This wasn’t the first time either of you said something like this. But it still made everyone uncomfortable, considering you both despise each other. 

“Bleh. Keep it, I don’t want whatever STD you contracted from sleeping around with half the island.” You sat back down, giving up on fighting him for those cakes. 

He snorts, eating from your plate. 

“Um okay can you guys just admit you want to get into each other’s pants??” Kie blurted out with a disgusted look on her face.

You laughed loudly, pissing JJ off a little. “Me? Want to sleep with him?” You pointed at JJ. “I think I’d rather let Rafe oil me up and top me.” 

“That’s gross Y/N.” Both Sarah and John B replied in sync. 

“Rafe? That’s really saying something JJ.” Sarah snickered. 

The blonde just rolled his eyes.

 “I’m choosing to move on from this incredibly unsettling conversation. But I have an idea guys.” Kie proposed. “Let’s go camping! You know, like a little family bonding thing. Maybe JJ and Y/N will learn to love each other a little more when they share a tent.” 

“What a great idea Kie!” Pope agreed in a very obvious way, it’s clear they both planned this out. 

Both your head and JJ’s shook no. 

“Absolutely not.” JJ refused.

“I agree with JJ, for the first time, like ever.”

“Well suck it up Buttercup ‘cause we’re going camping!” Pope grinned.

“Pope don’t like, ever say that again.” John B cringed a bit and everyone else chuckled a bit. 

You groaned, going home to pack a bag. Pope gave you a ride in the Twinkie while everyone else prepared for the trip. A ball of thunder started churning in your stomach though, you did not look forward to going home and seeing your parents, and then have them scold your ear off while you decide to disappear again. It was a routine.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Pope asked softly, noticing your worry.

You shook your head no. “I gotta do this by myself.”

You sighed, climbing up the stairs to the back porch of your nice house. You tip-toed comically, trying to make the least sound possible as it was your intention to get your clothes and dip. 

“Y/N.” Shit. It was your mom. 

“Hi mom-” 

“What the hell were you thinking disappearing like that? Are you crazy? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She bombarded you with a series of rhetorical questions. 

“I don’t really know if I’m supposed to answer all four hundred of your questions.” You replied snidely. 

“Don’t act stupid. You’re better than. We expect better from you. Now take your ass upstairs you’re grounded for disappearing like that. One week.” Your dad chimed in. 

“A week? Are you serious? I’m just here to grab clothes- we’re going camping for a few days c’mon-” You dropped your bag and threw your hands up in the air. 

“2 weeks. These people are not your friends they're a bad influence.” Your dad crossed his arms. 

“Of course they’re my friends they’re my family- no you can’t do this.” You picked your bag up and scrambled around for your things, shoving your clothes and other stuff in your bag. “You can’t stop me from going.” 

“Your family? Y/N we’re right here!” 

The argument was loud, a loud screaming match between you and your parents. It was a losing battle because by the end of all of them, you gave up on fighting and left in silence. 

“Y/N do not step foot out of this house!” Your mother yelled as you slammed the door shut, a sigh of relief and anxiety leaving you. You got into the truck, slamming the door. 

“You heard all of that didn’t you.” 

“I think you won that argument, I think.” He shrugged in attempt to make you feel better. He rubbed your back sympathetically. 

You snorted, “Just drive Pope.” He always made you feel better. 

He drove you back to The Chateau to pick up the rest of the crew. Pope honked the horn to call the rest out. They all walked to the car, buried in their own conversations as John B booted you out of the passenger seat while he held two six-packs.

“Could you move to the back, pretty pleaseeee Y/N,” John B pleaded with puppy dog eyes. You nodded and got down, “You’re the best.” 

You climbed into the back with Sarah and Kie and settled in, joining their conversation. Engulfed in the topic, you didn’t notice JJ walk up to the door, he threw his bag at you. 

“Ouch- fucking dick! God go make someone else hate their life,” you groaned, rubbing the spot on your head where the backpack hit you. 

“Someone woke up with a dick in their ass. I wonder who’s!” JJ laughed 

“Definitely not yours.” You moved away from him, leaning near Sarah. The blonde rolled his eyes.  

You huffed, relaxing your shoulders. You were tired, exhausted even from all that arguing with your parents. 

“You alright Y/N??” Sarah nudged you slightly. 

“Yeah, I’m tired. You know what I really need right now?” sighing, you sat up a bit. 

“An orgasm?” Kiara joked, winking at you. 

His blue eyes caught yours for a moment before you looked away. “Kinda, but I really need a joint.” You brought your two fingers up to your lips, smoking an invisible blunt.

“Lucky for you Y/N, I brought some~ its in the glovebox.” Kie wiggled her shoulders and responded in a singing tone. They all laughed and made jokes and continued their conversation, you couldn’t help but glance over at JJ once in a while. His arms were crossed and his hair swirled around. The open window shined sunlight straight onto his beautiful- no. You shook your head and shoo-ed the ‘bad’ thoughts out. 

A long car ride of explicit thoughts later, you guys finally came to the camp site. It was in the middle of the woods with a clearing and an area with a bonfire, and only 2 other campsites in view, one was empty and the other had a singular tent. You all got out of the car, the boys unloaded the tent while the girls grabbed the bags and stuff out of the car. 

“Bonfire tonight?” John B suggested and murmurs of agreement came about. 

“I’m gonna set up the tents.” You decided to help and grabbed the tents out of the trunk. 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” JJ taunted in an obnoxious baby voice. “Need some help from an actually capable being?” He followed you, bringing in another tent. 

“Why do you take the time to bother me? Do you love me that bad?” He scoffed. “If I throw a stick would you leave-” before you could add a snarky noise to your sentence, he dropped whatever he was holding and pushed you. Not too hard as to not make you fall, but hard enough to piss you off. You dropped your shit and pushed him back. 

“Dick!” 

“Cunt-” 

Insults were thrown back and forth and you both shoved each other, your hands occasionally throwing in petty smacks and hits at his chest and arms. 

“Hey hey-!” The rest of the group ran over to you guys, pulling you apart and standing between you two. 

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Pope threw his arms up. “We seriously couldn’t do one thing without you guys trying to kill each other?”

They all started scolding you as you glared over at him. 

“If I have to be anywhere near him tonight I think I’ll actually leave.” You crossed your arms and turned your head away from him. 

“Good! No one wants you here anyway-” Sarah and Kie verbally winced and told him to shut up while Pope and John B cringed. “Go back to your mansion on Figure 8 and cry about your great life to someone else.” JJ scoffed, a quiet kook escaping his lips. You seriously couldn’t believe him. He was going to use your status against you even after everything. Even after you cared them like they were your own. You thought they didn’t care about shit like that anymore. 

You stormed on back to the Twinkie, opening the glove box and grabbing the pre-rolled joints Kiara brought. God bless her soul. Climbing into the back, you pulled out your lighter and lit it up. This was all you needed, a break away from everything. Away from JJ, from your parents, from everything else burning in this world. 

Half an hour went by and the sun went down. None of the others bothered you as they figured you needed some time on your own. JJ was probably doing the same thing. You decided you would refuse to leave the van if JJ was there.

The door slid open, it was Sarah.

“Hey,” she whispered as she climbed in next to you.

“Hey. I’m sorry if I ruined anything or something I just-”

She cut you off. “No don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” She leaned against your shoulder. 

“I guess. I just wish he liked me more. He doesn’t have to adore me I just want to be near him and not have him hate me.” You began ranting, not realizing you were rambling on and on. “Like I don’t think he understands how much I like him and it pisses me off because I hate him for hating me and I don’t know-” 

“Wait pause. So you do like him-” Her face lit up as she gave you an ‘I told you so’ look. 

“Wait what- no I didn’t mean it like that!” 

“You like JJ!” You knew there was nothing you could do to stop her. 

“Sarah hush-” You put your hand over her mouth, a feeble attempt to shut her up. 

She pried your hand away. “I fucking knew it- WE fucking knew it. Now come on everyone else is waiting for you.” She nodded towards the window, where orange light lit up the sky and smoke trailed up. They started the bonfire and Kie was waiting for you, sipping on a beer. 

You both walked towards the fire and you both sat on each side of Kie. She tossed you a can. “Look who showed up.” She grinned at you. 

“Where’s Pope and John B?” You looked around, it was just the three of you. 

They both looked at each other for a moment and hesitated. “Getting more wood for the fire..” Kiara shrugged. You didn’t think much of it while you three found yourselves in some other conversation about the best movie genres. So invested that you didn’t notice the boys come back, but not with firewood, with JJ. They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to have a fit.

They sat down across from you guys, the fire being a border. Sarah got up and moved closer to John B and you looked up. 

“Hell no.” You stood up, tossing your can to the side. 

“No no no please Y/N, JJ please. Can we please leave this to the side for one fucking night? Please?” Pope pleaded as the others agreed. 

JJ scoffed, almost offended he has to put up with this. You sighed, sitting back down for the sake of your friends. John B tossed you another joint in attempt to calm you down, and it some what worked. You seemed to actually enjoy your night, besides the occasional glances you and JJ caught through the fire. His eyes seemed to pierced right through the fire, through you. As much as you want to deny it, as much as you fucking hate him, you wanted him so bad. Something about him just turns you on when his mouth is not always moving.

Every now and then JJ made some remarks towards you but you were too high to care. 

Time flew while you guys talked about memories life and money, and soon it was way past midnight. 

“I’m gonna pass out pretty soon sooo I’m hitting the tents.” Pope got up and Kie followed behind him, they both went into a tent. 

“Me too, good night ladies and gentlemen.” John B saluted as he held Sarah’s hand they both giggled their way over to their tent. There was one tent left, one with yours and JJ’s name on it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” JJ yelled out. “Yeah ok fuck you guys!” 

“JJ please don’t give me shit right now I don’t have the strength-” 

“I’m sleeping in The Twinkie.” He blatantly said as he scoffed and brushed past you, slightly bumping into you on purpose. 

“Fine by me.” Muttering, you slugged over to the last tent. 

Snuggling into a blanket, you laid your head down, hyperaware of every single noise around you. 

The woods was never really your thing. The thought of getting mauled by a bear or attacked by some creep really did it to you. And when you heard branches breaking around you 30 minutes into your ‘sleep’, that was your last straw, you couldn’t sleep alone.

You shot up and went over to the others’ tents. “Guys please let me in I’m kind of scared.” No one answered. “You’re all assholes.” You whisper-yelled. Your only other choice was The Twinkie. Oh god. 

You slowly slid the door open, praying JJ wasn’t awake. 

“Fuck!” JJ yelled out. it was pitch black and you heard a gun cocking. 

“Oh my fucking god JJ it’s me-! Did- did you seriously bring the gun?” 

“You crazy bitch, are you trying to kill me???” You found JJ backed up against the other door with the gun in his hand. He turned on a little lantern and propped it up.

“I’m sorry! I got.. kinda scared and the others aren’t letting me in. I don’t have a choice you think I wanted to sleep here?”

He relaxed a bit putting the gun away. “Scared of what? There’s nothing even here, pussy.” He rolled his eyes. You shut the door of The Twinkie and leaned against the door opposite of him. 

“I don’t know. Creeps JJ.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. 

“Y/N I think the only creep here is you. Sneaking into tents and moving up on me like that.” You decided to ignore that comment. If you were going to make it through the night, you needed something to keep you off the edge. You could feel your high wearing off from that life threatening gun situation, so you decided to light another blunt up. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” 

“Don’t you think you’ve ruined my life enough?” you snapped back, taking a hit and blowing it out in the direction of him. 

“Whatever, atleast share, greedy.” You passed it to him and he did the same. 

There was a silence between you two. You couldn’t tell if it was awkward or comforting. You both shared glances and stares until you decided to break it. Your thoughts were killing you. 

“You’re a dick I really hope you know that.” You blurted out. “I can’t stand you.”

“You love me and you know it. I think you’re just too embarrassed to admit it. 

“Fuck you JJ.”

“In your dreams.” 

“In my nightmares.” 

Silence. You stared at him. Somehow you both were close, close enough you could feel his body heat. Did he always look at you like this? Did you never notice how his eyes lingered over your lips. He grabbed you and pulled you in. Before you could blink, you were pulled onto his lap his lips were against yours and you were sucked into this kiss. It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t meaningless either. There was definitely passion behind it, feeling. Hate or love it didn’t matter, you were in his hands right now, right this moment. 

Spit pooled at the corner of your lip as his  hands grabbed at anything they could. They started at the back of your head, grasping your hair and moved down to your waist. Part of you wanted to push yourself off of him, tell him no and yell at him for even thinking you wanted to do this, but you’d be lying if you said you’ve never wanted to fuck JJ Maybank. 

Soft pants escaped your lips as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping and your throat. One of his hands gripped your hair while the other slid up your top, kneading and grabbing. His fingers messed with the hem of your bikini under, but then gave up. He pulled away. 

“Take it off.” You nodded quickly pulling of your shirt to reveal the skimpy bikini top. He muttered a quick, ‘shit’. Your stomach fluttered as he kissed you again. He pulled on the strings of your top and pulled it off, throwing it somewhere to the side. His hands grabbed at your tits, squeezing and kneading.  Your hands rested on his chest and you couldn’t help but move against him. You rocked your hips back and forth, yearning for some kind of friction.

You never thought you’d get here, dry humping JJ in the back of The Twinkie while the others slept. 

You found your groove, rubbing in the perfect place that hit your clit just right. 

“If you keep doing that ‘m just gonna cum in my pants.” he breathed out, speaking straight into your mouth. 

“Good, wouldn’t that be embarrassing.” You chuckled a little, but JJ grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. 

“Don’t fucking play games with me.” he almost growled. You were soaked. The way he spoke to you turned you on so bad.

“Touch me JJ please.” you begged, the humping not being enough. You wanted more, you wanted him to completely ruin you. 

He laughed softly, seeing how vulnerable he’s made you. He somehow slid your shorts off, leaving you with your bikini bottoms. He moved his arm between you both, finding your clothed cunt. He pushed them to the side and ran his fingers through the folds. 

He chuckled at how wet you already were. 

“Stop-” you swatted at his chest, biting your lip. He teasingly avoided your clit, leaving you desperate and whining. Your hips rolled around, searching for his fingers as he moved them away. “Dick-” you cursed, frustrated. 

“What was that? You wanted mine?” He teased you, your anger only building. But finally, he brought his finger to your clit, rubbing painfully slow circles. Whimpers fell from your mouth, whimpers that begged him to do more, touch you more, put something inside you. He understood the noised falling from your pretty lips as he stuck two fingers in you, earning a breathy gasp. JJ enjoyed watching your face as you scrunched your brows and the way your chest rose and fell, he took in all of you. He curled them slowly, pumping in and out as he picked up the pace. Moans and mewls filled the car and his fingers hit the spot, making you buck your hips slightly. He kept the pace, fingers pumping in you as he simultaneously rubbed figure 8′s into your clit with his thumb. 

“Fuck, don’t stop!” 

“Yeah?” He cockily coaxed you into your orgasm with a snide grin. 

“JJ I’m gonna cum-” you moaned out, but quickly groaned as he pulled his fingers out. 

He seemed to enjoy your despair, you almost started crying when he laughed at you for whimpering when he pulled his hands away. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” He pulled you off of him and you hissed as your ass touched the cold floor of the van. His rough hands pulled down his shorts, his cock springing out. You licked your lips, positioning yourself back onto him. “ready?” You nodded quickly, sinking yourself down onto him. A loud sob fell from you lips and JJ put his hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle your sound. He slowly bobbed up and down on him, finding your groove. He met you halfway, jerking his hips into you as well. His cock hit the right spot, the spot. The sounds were sinful. Skin slapping against each other, wet squelches and explicit moans and curses filled The Twinkie as the windows fogged up. You kissed him, tongue slipping into his mouth as his hands grabbed back at your tits. He left purple marks all over your neck and chest, even some on your boobs. 

He threw his head back, groaning at the feeling of you squeezing around his dick. 

“Fuck I can’t-” he breathed, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. They bruised. 

“Oh my fucking god..” you clutched his shoulders as he moved one hand down to find your clit again. 

“Cum with me,” His hips began to stutter as his cock twitched inside you. His fingers rubbed at your bud faster and messier as you felt a wave crashing over your entire body. You kissed him while you could feel his warmth inside as he came too, still riding out your high with his finger. 

“Fuck.” you panted, resting your head on his shoulder. “I thought you wanted to fucking kill me.” 

“Maybe just fuck.” He laughed softly as you ran a hand through his hair, wiping away the sweat on his temple. 

Somehow, you both ended up falling asleep naked and entangled within each other with a blanket covering the both of you. You were woken up to the sound of Kie yelling. “Holy fucking shit they slept together- Literally!” 

[araumii]

𖥻 CAT LUCK. ft. camilo madrigal w/ gn!reader

— tw/cw: none!

— synopsis: dubbed as the gem of encanto, nobody was really surprised when have both men and women at your feet practically begging to be the lucky star that you’ll choose to be your partner. this, of course, was quite a nuisance to you. afterall, you have your eyes on something much brighter than a gem.

A black cat. All you need is to catch Y/n’s beloved companion and bring it back to them. That’s all you need to do in order for you to snatch the keys to their heart.

This golden news spread fast amongst people of Encanto. Even parents were helping their children catch the damned feline just for the one and only Y/n L/n. Traps were scattered everywhere, from ropes to cages, everyone did everything they could in order to have you.

How could they not? You were perfect! Dare they say, even more so than Isabela. Though the said Madrigal had no complaints, who was she to object? You do hold up to your title afterall.

Everyone was absolutely smitten by you. And Camilo Madrigal was no exception.

“Y/n!” You turned around, meeting a familiar figure running towards you. Letting a smile creep out, you stayed put until the freckled boy was finally infront of you. “Hola, Camilo. Is there something you need help with?” You spoke, tone dripping with your usual kindness. And of course, he couldn’t miss how you said his name, it’s was an indescribable melody.

Noticing the boy starting at you without a word, you waved a hand infront of his face, trying to catch his attention. “I know I’m amazing and all, but you need to answer my question, perrito.”

At this, Camilo’s cheeks dusted pink, turning away from you with a pout. “Don’t call me that.” He rolled his eyes, playfully acting annoyed which caused a light laugh from you.

“Ay, so the teaser can’t be teased?” You let out another amused chuckle.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, before pulling an envelope from under his ruana. “I’m just here to tell you that you’ve received a letter.” He reached his arm out, an evident earger glint in his eyes. “Guess it’s from one of your many suitors.” He spoke, growing anxious once he noticed how your brows quickly furrowed and how your lips tugged into a frown. Clearly not pleased.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you said, clearly giving no signs of wanting to take the piece of paper.

So you two just stood there for a moment, before Camilo swiftly shoved it down his pocket with an embarrassed look. “S-so... I heard people out here were trying to catch your cat.” He tried to ease the on coming awkwardness, shifting the topic away from the letter.

“Yeah. They’ve been pretty brutal about it too.” You sighed, remembering the large mouse trap shaped trap you saw sitting in the middle of the woods, clearly waiting for your feline companion to aimlessly get caught in it.

Though luckily, he’s smarter than that.

“But Celesto can handle it, he’s a great boy.” You added with a proud smile etched onto your lips. “Though i do hope they’ll stop obsessing over me. I have my eye on someone already, afterall.”

And with that, Camilo only deflated more than before. “Oh, you do?” He spoke solemnly, looking at you, he could tell you’re very serious about this person. The passionate gleam in your eyes says it all. “Mhm, I consider them as my sun. It sounds weird, but they just brighten up my day like no other.” You gushed, heat rising to your cheek.

“They’re a lucky fella, huh?” He forced out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You were about to reply, but the call of his name cut your conversation short. He swore he saw a disappointed expression flash on your face. But it might just be wishful thinking. “Well, you’re needed out there.” You nudged him, a warm smile evident on your lips before finally walking away. “Talk to you later!”

And with that, he could only watch you walk away from him with a love sick look on his face.

The freckled boy was tired, with all the chores he had just finished, he thought he deserved a well needed break. And what better place to relax than in the comfort of mother nature.

He was about to doze off on one of the forest trees, when a sudden rustling was heard just beside him. He jolted up, eyes narrowing at the rustling bush.

As seconds passed by he grew anxious, what if it’s something dangerous? A wolf? A bear? Hell, a rabid rabbit?!

The bush shook more violently than before, so with that, he clutched the ends of his ruana tightly, crinckling the envelope that was hidden under it. Grabbing a nearby stick, he pointed it defensively at the possible offender.

But then, without a warning, it pounced. It leaped towards him with such quickness he wasn’t able to defend himself. Falling back he noticed a black blurr in his vision, the deadly animal was atop of him. Though it was small, it was terrible, its paws gripped on his ruana before letting out a deadly, bloodcurdling-... purr?

He opened his eyes, focusing at the creature infront of him. It wasn’t a deadly animal, but rather.. a black cat?

Camilos eyes widened. It looked exactly like your beloved pet. He didn’t even question his scared behavior prior to his realization, all he had in mind was that he currently has the token to your heart.

If he returns him to you then you’ll be his.

He sat up, careful as to not startle him away. But as he was about to go on with his plan of returning him. A thought flashed in his mind. “I...don’t think I should give you back.” He smiled sadly which caused the cat to look at him, confused.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It just.. doesn’t feel right. They already have their eyes on someone. They told me so. It’d be selfish if I did. Plus, they seem serious about this person, i mean, they didn’t even want to accept my letter!”

The felines eyes dilated, he almost looks like a blob of darkness because of this. Camilo stared at his black orbs before letting out a chuckle, resting his back against a tree while he stroked Celesto. “You know what? Lets stop at that. You probably also had a rough day. I don’t think it’s fun hearing about someones love proble—.” His sentence was cut short when something- someone near him fell.

He hears a groan as he whipped his head to the side. “Antoñio!” A voice followed. But more importantly, it was your voice. He saw you come out of your hiding spot, hurriedly rushing towards his brother who accidentally leaned ahead a bit too much causing his fall.

“I’m okay!” The little boy exclaimed before quickly covering his mouth. Camilo was dumbfounded. He just saw his brother come out of nowhere and then you?

The both of you slowly crained your head towards where the other Madrigal who sat comfortably with your pet. “Oops.” The younger said before quickly standing up and grabbing the cat off Camilo.

“Celesto says it’s going to get awkward soon. So.. bye!” He scurried off. Leaving the two of you alone.

You cleared your throat, dusting your pants/skirt off of any debri. “S-.. sorry about that.” You stuttered out, stroking your arm for some sort of comfort while your gaze shifted to everywhere but him.

“So, you were spying on me, huh?” Camilo teased, finally regaining some of his confidence. You can only let out a sheepish smirk as he stood up and slowly made his way towards you. “It wasn’t my intention.... wellmaybeitwas, but that’s besides the point!”

With heated cheeks, you slowly looked up at him. “I didn’t know it was your letter.” You sighed, “If i knew then I would’ve accepted it.” At this, Camilo’s face grew red, putting Isabela’s roses to shame. “Y-you, what? I mean- you also? Am- am I the-“ A melodic string of laughter cut him off, causing the boy to stare at you with awe.

“Yes. You are the lucky person.”

He couldn’t even react. All he felt at that moment was indescribable joy and pure love spilling out of him.

Though he couldn’t react now, you could see the mess of emotions that swirled in his beautiful green eyes. And at that moment, he truly felt as if he’s the luckiest man ever.

𖥻 THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE! I got inspired by a comic abt smth similar to this. (catching a cat to be able to be with them) So it might be familiar to some of you!

[princessofprocrastination]

You Live In Sweatpants And Hoodies (GeorgeNotFound)

MASTERLIST

pairing : georgenotfound / george x influencer!reader. 

summary : george and your fans realize that under all the sweaters, you have a body. 

a/n : if you are wondering what dress i was talking about, search up jennie short black dress :)

before social media, you studied law and got a degree in it but ended up not using it due to your social media career sky rocketing. 

but you never thought studying was a waste, that could be your backup, after all. social media doesn’t last forever. and you were ready to accept any difficulties since you knew you had plan b. 

you, till this day, could not describe what you do on social media. it started with tiktok. everything nowadays started with tiktok. but you were one of the first people who was on it. 

and then tiktokers would make their way onto youtube to sustain their “career” and grow. so that’s what you did. you never abandoned that app, though. especially not now, everyone on that app is seriously hilarious. 

your content on youtube was all over the place. once, for a video, you talked to weird men on omegle and tinder. another time, you would try different aesthetics on yourself. 

but here’s the catch, you’ve never really worn revealing clothes. your mum had always told you to never deprive yourself from what she says “fun young girl things” which is dressing up, or down, in her say and go have fun with your friends. 

but since the pandemic hit, you have had no where to go anyways, and you never really liked to show off your body. it’s not that you felt uncomfortable doing it, it’s just that you’ve never had the reason to. 

you also didn’t grow up girly. you hated dresses, especially short and tight dresses. and you weren’t a fan of wearing shorts either. you always opted to go comfy. 

whenever you post a tiktok, you always wore your signature hoodie and sweatpants that were clearly sizes too big for you. but you liked it, it’s comfortable to sleep in. 

and whenever you had to pan down to show your outfits on youtube, you were always caught wearing jeans and a baggy shirt, just styled differently, according to the aesthetic of the video you were filming for. 

you heard your phone ring from the couch. you picked it up, knowing who it was anyways. “morning, cutie.” you stared. 

“morning b.” george greets you, hair everywhere, clearly just woken up. 

you and george met on tiktok, just like all good friends do. he had duetted a tiktok of yours and you found him hilarious. you quickly followed him on every single social media platform he was in. you even set an alarm in case he ever streams and you’re asleep. 

you two are close. some would say you two are dating, but you two haven’t figured it out yet. you two didn’t really want to disclose it anyways, you two knew your not so secret feelings for each other, anyways. 

remember when he called you ‘b’? yeah that stands for ‘bub’. he thought it would be cute for him to have a different nickname than the usual “baby” or “babe”. 

you two actually live very near each other, making it way easier as a couple, but since england was put into a quarantine order, you two didn’t meet often. 

some would probably ask why you’d have to set an alarm when he streams when you two clearly are in the same timezone? well, that boy had no sense of time and a terrible sleeping schedule. it amazed you at how early he got up today. 

that facetime call lasted about half an hour before you told him you needed to stream on twitch today, to which he responded to you that he’s watch it later. 

today, you had a surprise. for the world. you can’t believe you even thought about this but it was about time you showed off to the world what assets you’ve been blessed with. 

speaking of showing off. no, you weren’t a particularly insecure person, you were just comfortable in the clothes you’re in. but celebrating the long time you’ve been on social media, and it being your birthday, you thought it might be fitting. 

george and you agreed to not make anything special about your birthday. you hated parties and large gatherings, and since you were still in the middle of a pandemic, you used that as an excuse to not go out. 

you spent the longest time searching for a good enough outfit for this day. and you found it. you decided to pick a pretty simple dress, a black short dress that went to your mid thigh, that showed off your waist, spaghetti strapped and a little backless. 

you walked out the shower, your robe on as you walked to your bathroom counters to dry your hair. you didn’t really bother to style it, just leaving you straight long hair down. 

you put on the most basic white sneakers you could find to still make it casual, and you thought it went well together, anyways.

you finished you makeup and took a good look at yourself. you had been aware that you only wore baggy clothes, so this was a huge change. you twirled yourself, feeling confident. 

you couldn’t wait for people to have heart attacks. 

you sat on your gaming chair, getting ready to start your stream. 

before you started your stream, you made sure you left your facecam turned off first. 

you went live. chat was confused since this was the first time that you’re not on facecam. all they could see at the moment was the caption “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” that you typed on your notes app on your computer.

“hi, chat.” you said, to calm them down a little. 

you heard your phone go off, a text notification. which you knew was george since he had a special notification ping on your phone. 

it said “did you forget to turn on your cam?” 

you laughed at that. “no, chat, i haven’t forgotten to turn on my facecam, just wait for a sec, please.” 

you felt giddy, excited for the reactions. 

instead of wearing your cute cat headphones, you wore your airpods instead to get the whole look going. 

you let out a sigh before moving your mouse cursor to linger on the ‘start recording camera’ button. you clicked on it, before moving your chair back to fully say hi to your chat. 

you brought your hands up to wave to the camera. you tilted your head slightly. “soooo, it’s my birthday.” you said. 

chat was going crazy so you stopped reading them so you wouldn’t get a headache. the donations went crazy too, but you tried your best to read them all. 

you thanked the people who subscribed to you or gifted you subs. 

“360 of this dress? sure, i’ll give you a twirl.” you replied a dono. 

you stood up, and rolled your gaming chair away so that they can see your whole outfit. you spun around once, quickly telling them where you got the dress from. 

you tried to hold your foot on one hand, balancing yourself to show them that you could go casual in this dress too. 

what you noticed was that, your phone hadn’t stopped beeping from a text notification, which belonged to the one and only georgenotfound. 

and since maybe he noticed that you won’t check your phone, he sent a donation instead. 

“WHAT THE FUCK.” the monotoned voice read out the donation, which was from george. 

you facepalmed, knowing exactly what his reaction is like at home. 

“I’M COMING OVER.” the voice said again. you laughed at his antics. 

“see you then.” you replied, laughing, knowing he was joking around anyways. 

-

GEORGE’S POV 

she thinks i’m joking, isn’t she? 

well, she gave me her spare key for a reason, and this would be the best reason. 

i knew i wanted to come around anyways. just after her stream. i promised her no going out, but not no gifts and ordering in. 

sneaky, i know. 

i had a plan brewing in my mind. to walk in her house as quietly as possible, to surprise her. 

after seeing her in that dress, i don’t think i can stand our fans not knowing we aren’t dating. 

i know, i haven’t really asked her out, but we kinda both agreed that there was no use, knowing each other’s feeling was good enough and that we didn’t need to do anything extravagant. 

i don’t know what she’s tell her fans but i’m sure i hadn’t disclose our relationship. the fans shipped us, sure, but i don’t think i’ve ever said it out loud. 

we knew we’d have to say it someday. so i thought, why not today? as i surprised her at her own house. 

her fans watching her stream are tweeting at me like crazy. no one had seen her like that. she practically lives in sweats and hoodies, constantly. 

the most fitting thing i’ve seen her wear is skinny jeans, but she would always wear a baggy top with it. people always say she drowns in her clothes, but i never complained, she looked good either ways. 

but seeing her in that dress, damn. i needed to be there and hug her, kiss her. i couldn’t wait to see her in that dress, right in front of my eyes. 

our observant fans or close friends have asked if she dresses the same at home, and my answer always stayed the same. that she lives in baggy clothes. 

there are some creepy people out there who would ask that question in a sexual way. thinking i’ve seen her in less. but truthfully, i haven’t. we’re not pass that stage, and we prefer it this way. 

what the fans see is what i see on the daily, too. 

and no, me going to her house to see her more clearly in that dress doesn’t mean we’re doing anything. i just want to observe her beauty. see what she’s hid from me. 

-

YOUR POV

chat was going crazy over george’s donation. but you still laughed it off. it’s all a joke anyways, him coming over. 

he was coming over later, after noon, so he wouldn’t just drop everything to see you right now. 

“geez. chill out, chat, george was joking.” you told them. 

you sat on your gaming chair more comfortably as you started playing a couple rounds of among us with your fans. you told them not to cheat and watch your stream as they’re playing ad lucky you, they listened. 

for some reason, your chat still kept blowing up with george comments. maybe they were still caught up on that comment he said earlier. 

but you hadn’t thought that he’d be behind you the entire time, telling the chat to not make it obvious. 

“happy birthday, b” you heard a very familiar voice from behind you. 

you almost had a whiplash from how quick you turned your head to see who was behind you. 

you stood up to hug him, almost falling to the floor, stumbling on your own feet.

with the way you ran to him, he almost fell to the floor. “you’re here, you’re here.” you kept repeating it to him, not believing that he actually came. you knew he’d come later, but not this early. 

george moved you back gently to see your full outfit. you two were aware that the facecam is still on, and pointing to you two, seeing every move. 

“come here.” he whispered to you before grabbing your waist, to kiss you. 

you two took a little while enjoying each other’s company, still in front of everyone on twitch. 

he moved you back a little, turning you to face your gaming monitors. “MY GIRLFRIEND, EVERYBODY. isn’t she so hot, oh my god.” he said to the stream. 

you laughed at his stupid antics, covering your face with your hands as you blushed. 

your chat didn’t stop talking about the interaction, not believing that their ship was finally sailing. 

you played a couple more rounds of among us with them, george taking over sometime or making funny comments to entertain your chat while you played. 

after the stream, george and you took time to enjoy the time alone, ordering in your favourite food and opening gifts that he bought you. 

you forgot to mention that both of your twitter was blowing up too much that you had to mute it for a while. you knew that a lot had screenshot the cute moment. 

you took note to screenshot some of the photos on twitter later. 

[a-libra-writes]

hello, i am here! Stannis with the prompt: a diary where you can communicate with your soulmate, please. it can be hc's or scenario; however you choose to quench my thirst for him, I will be grateful.

hi molly, thank u for giving me such a treat!!! bc this was my first prompt and it... uh ....................

really got away from me

(LOTS OF ANGST BUT ITLL BE OK I PROMISE MAYBE)

The first thing he felt about it was annoyance. The six year old second son of Lord Baratheon looked down and saw that someone had doodled all over his book. He figured it was Robert, though he'd never seen a quill in his brother's hand unless it was being forced by the maester. He set the leather bound book in front of his mother expectantly, silently waiting for an explanation. When she looked at it and gave him a curious glance, he finally spoke.

"Robert's been drawing in it," Stannis said. He placed it right on top of her embroidery so she'd see. Lady Cassana wasn't bothered, rather, she was curious. She picked up the book and flipped through the pages.

"Did you see him do it, sweetling?"

"No." The lack of evidence didn't deter him - no, this was evidence enough. He didn't understand what his mother was so amused about.

Lady Cassana stopped on one of the pages. She smiled at the messy drawing of what was probably a cat catching a mouse. Under that was a tidy little castle with a series of smiling figures. "I don't think it's your brother, Stannis."

Stannis frowned, ready to argue that fact, but she asked, "Do you know what a soulmate is, sweetling?"

“No.”

“It’s a special person that only you can speak with this way,” She touched the book. “It's a special thing, I did it when I was your age. It’s the will of the gods, my love. You should write something back."

He hesitated. “Do I… have to?”

“Not if you don’t want to. But perhaps say hello, give it a try.” Lady Cassana said. She was smiling broadly now. “Enjoy it while you can.”

"What if they're not literate?"

Maester Cressen looked up from his papers, surprised the usually quiet boy was speaking during lessons. Stannis repeated, “What if my… soul mate doesn’t know their letters? You said the smallfolk don't."

The Maester stood and walked over to the leather book. Two years later, and it still looked in good condition. Stannis took care of this things, especially this. As usual the page was covered in whimsical drawings.

“Have you tried to write to them, my lord?”

“Not yet.” Stannis was furrowing his brow already, wanting his questions answered. “What happens if one soul mate can’t write, but the other can? What if both can't?"

“My lord, there's no need to worry about things that are irrelevant to you.”

“What do the smallfolk do?” Stannis pressed on. “Draw pictures like this? How do they find each other? How do they know what the other person looks like?"

Maester Cressen was already turning back to his papers. “Soulmates don’t always find each other, my lord, nor should they expect to.”

“Why not?”

“Distance, lack of communication, familial duties.” The maester said dismissively. “If you’ll return to your lessons—”

“I finished. What’s the point of soulmates if they can never meet?"

Maester Cressen sighed. There was no escaping this anytime soon, he feared. “It’s the will of the gods, my lord, and a great mystery we maesters have studied for centuries. It’s best not to think much of it, however. Draw or write back in the book, if you wish, but do not spend too much time with it. It’s best not to get expectations of someone you will likely never meet.”

Stannis looked down at the book, startled by a new drawing already appearing. He couldn’t see them being made, only when they were finished. It was a school of fish, or maybe a flock of birds. Wouldn’t it be simple to ask where this person lived, and go see them? What was the point of all this if he was just meant to ignore it? He wanted to ignore it, but this mysterious person kept drawing all over his notes and it was distracting.

“Mother said it’s 'the will of the gods', too. Does that mean it’s bad to ignore it?”

The maester stood up and closed the leather book. He replaced it with a chart of various colorful coat of arms and a map. “I daresay it’s time to move on to the next lesson."

It took him a few days, but the lordling decided to write in the book. Stannis wasn't much of an artist, so Hello seemed like a good start. He was relieved when there was a simple ‘hello!’ written back within a few minutes, and later, a scribbly flower with a long stalk underneath. Seeing the words form on their own so quickly, and in response to him, unnerved Stannis. He closed the book and tried not to think about it the rest of the day.

He checked a week later, where more drawings were present, with more words: whats your nam?

He wrote back, Name has an 'e'.

And before his eyes, a minute later, there was a name… and a house, and a title. Caspian.

She was a highborn lady? Stannis looked at the page, not sure what to think about it. It’d be alright to write to a lady, wouldn’t it? Maester Cressen was the one worried about this soulmate business. Perhaps it was because a lord and peasant couldn’t be together? Stannis knew that rule already. He knew the decorum and niceties his parents rehearsed him through, even at his young age. He walked to the library to find a map, and in the time he finally located it and rolled it out, there was more on the page.

A drawing of something weird and arrow-shaped. this is our sigil. its a manta ray.

Stannis had never seen one, but he had a sense that wasn’t what they looked like. He tried looking through the map, but words kept appearing.

whats your nam where are you from? ?? are you a boy or girl do you like horses ? I like swiming and horses! im good at it

He considered closing the book again, rolling up the map, going back to whatever he was doing before. If there was no point, then why bother with this? ... Then again, he’d have to go back to the training yard, and Robert was there swinging around a huge wooden sword.

Stannis frowned, deciding this was the less annoying (and painful) activity for now. He found an ink pot and quill, held it tightly and wrote in a fine penmanship—

My name is Stannis Baratheon.

The last part smudged, and it didn’t look exactly how his father signed it, but it was his best. The response wasn’t immediate, and he quickly saw why. A drawing of a stag appeared on the paper before the words did.

Its good to meat you! lets be friends

Friends? Friends. He thought about it. Stannis didn’t have friends, just brothers. He didn’t think he needed any. This didn’t have to be so bad, though, he could try. If it was too tiresome, or too... strange, he could stop. Maester Cressen wanted him to stop, anyhow, and his mother said he didn't have to.

It’s spelled ‘meet’. We can be friends.

Lady Cassana patted his mess of black hair, and Stannis didn’t flinch away this time. Instead, he asked, “Were you and father soulmates?”

“No,” She answered honestly. She was always honest, and he liked that. His father joked too much. “Do you remember what I told you about duty? Sometimes we have to set aside our hearts to best serve our realm. Sometimes we have to set aside this.”

She gave the leather book back to him. Maester Cressen had taken it, and he was determined to accept the punishment, but it bothered him more than he wanted to say. He was grateful his mother returned it, though he was struggling to meet her eyes. His ears were still red from embarrassment, but she wasn’t upset, or teasing, or scolding.

“It hurt me to set my own down, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. Your father had one that he never wrote to. The idea of having it and setting it aside was too much for him. And yet, we love each other very much, and we love our sons.” Lady Cassana stopped touching his hair when he finally squirmed away. Stannis ran his fingers along the leather spine and the uneven parchment bound inside the book.

When he took a long time to answer, she spoke softly. “It’s your decision, Stannis.”

That night, he wrote in the book, asking what she’d do when they grew up. When she'd stop writing. The response was instant. There was a drawing of a sad girl next to her words.

your my friend! i like writing to you. do you want to stop?

I don’t. Stannis decided, and that was it.

The talks still came, though. It happened before, several times, and here it was again. It didn’t matter that he stopped bringing the book to his lessons, or that he only wrote in the privacy of his room. Maester Cressen always seemed to know.

“It’s for your own good that you begin to set it aside, Stannis,” The old man said. He always seemed old, but when he was scolding it was especially so.

Stannis wasn’t one to talk back, but he still struggled to hide his scowl. This wasn’t the first time the maester made him set his jaw and tense it up. It wasn’t his business. She never discouraged it, so he didn’t understand why Maester Cressen had to.

“It’s not inappropriate,” He said. “She’s a lady. I never write improperly, it's like sending letters."

“Sending a strange lady letters is inappropriate,” The Maester sighed. “Especially without the knowledge of her family. What would they say?"

“She could tell them at anytime."

“Do you tell your lord father and lady mother all that you write, then?”

Stannis gritted his teeth and turned away. At ten and three, Stannis could already see over the old man’s head, and he didn't feel like a child, so he didn't appreciate being talked to like one. “You don’t speak to Robert about these matters.”

“Robert is at the Eyrie, no doubt being told the same by Lord Arryn. Stannis, do you understand why I say these things? Do you understand the trouble it could cause you, and worse, her?”

Maester Cressen often referred to ‘her’, or the girl, even if she was just as grown as Stannis. He didn't ask her identity, and Stannis didn't give it. He hated having to hear this conversation again. Of all the trouble Robert was already causing in the Eyrie — he saw those letters, it was his duty to attend to them while his parents were at sea — Stannis felt like his own actions were hardly important. There would be weeks where he couldn’t write to her at all, or she was busy as well. If anyone tried to read what they wrote, gods forbid, it was mostly idle talk and drawings.

Lots and lots of drawings, she still had that habit. She was getting very good at them. Stannis brought his mind back to the present. “I understand.” He said, in a tone that made it clear he didn’t actually intend to stop.

Case in point, he pulled out the worn leather book that evening. It was the second, or maybe the third one. If she didn’t draw so much they’d have more room, but sometimes Stannis wrote a lot, too. She made it easy to do that. It was alright if she didn’t answer right away, or if at all. It was good to just write it.

He frowned as he moved to the most recent page. It was a short, curt sentences, which wasn’t like her. There were no pictures.

My cousin died this morning. We were riding together, and she fell from her horse. I couldn’t help her. No one blames me, but I feel terrible. I’ve been crying all day. I’m going to the Godswood tonight to pray for forgiveness. I might be quiet. I'm sorry.

‘I might be quiet’. ‘I might not write tonight.’ ‘I’ll write to you tomorrow’. ‘I’ll tell you about it when I can’. Those were phrases the two of them were used to. It was expectant. They may not write every day, or every week, but eventually they will.

Take the time you need. I’ll be here for you.

It made his chest hurt to write that, but he knew it was the right thing. It’s what she would always say to him, and without fail, he’d eventually come around and tell her. She was the only one he really told… anything. He wondered if the same was true for her. She mentioned visiting ladies now and again, a knight’s daughter she played with, and… this cousin.

He kept the book beside him the rest of the evening, knowing she likely wouldn’t respond. By the time she did, the earlier conversation with the maester had left his mind.

The longest they’d gone without writing was during the following year. It took months before he could pick the book up again, even look at it. It was months using all the willpower he had to get out of bed and carry on. There was Renly to look after, and Storm’s End to attend to, and the duties that Robert neglected when he returned to the Eyrie. He should have stayed, but he didn’t. So Stannis took care of it. He did what was right.

When he was finally able to pick up the book, when the choking pain keeping him up at night had dulled to just a constant ache that allowed sleep now and again, he hesitated.

The latest page was inquiries of how he was, where he was. There was a variety of pictures, black and some colors she’d managed to get ahold of. Her manta rays looked like proper rays, and so did the stags she had become so fond of. She drew some ships she’d seen in the harbor, a cat that liked to hide away in her bedroom. Then the pictures stopped.

My father told me what happened. Stannis, I’m here. You can write to me, whenever you can. I’ll always be here.

It hurt again. He closed the book, listened to the fire flickering loudly in the hearth in his room. It was becoming stuffy, but he didn’t want to open a window. He could hear the waves and the crashes against the rock from his window, and that would lead to the sounds of broken wood and screams in his sleep.

He moved closer to the fire, away from those sounds. Flipping through the old book’s pages, looking at the art and some of the sillier things she wrote. Apparently when he’d make her laugh, she’d screw up some letters. She told him as much. When he corrected any spelling, she liked to make the same mistake and circle it. She liked to draw little figures that were supposed to be them, but it was awful on purpose, and they were usually doing something ridiculous like riding a dragon.

Looking back on those gave him the strength to flip to the newest page. He stared at it, wondering if he should stop. He was acting Lord of Storm’s End. Wasn’t his duty even more important than this, and wasn’t her reputation in danger? ‘Willed by the gods’, they said, but he no longer believed in those. What gods would smash his parents and their great ship against the rocks of their own castle? The same stupid gods that would create this... this connection in a world where it would inevitably be severed.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain shoot up across his jaw and straight to his head, where a headache would start. The fire was right there. It would be easy to …

His hands moved on their own. The words were sloppy and left heavy ink blotches on the paper. I’m here.

I am too. I missed you.

The response was near instantaneous. Perhaps if she waited, he could’ve done it. He could’ve burned it, if she hadn’t wrote that. Maybe it didn’t matter what she’d say. The sudden longing and loneliness hit him all at once, but it was easy to respond.

I won’t do it again. Being gone for this long.

A pause, a heartbeat, and a tensing of his jaw that made his head ache again. He added in an anxious scrawl, I missed you too.

It was another sleepless night, but for once, it wasn’t because of the nightmares and the crashing waves. The sun came up as he wrote in the margins of the last page, promising to find a new book.

There was modest wooden box he kept them in, hidden under his bed. He was good at hiding it now. No one had bothered mentioning Stannis’ old habit anymore, assuming he’d grown out of it. He’d dated all of them to the best of his knowledge, though he rarely went back to read them. He used to, but that simple act flustered him horribly. They were still in good condition, except for one that had been partially chewed by a hunting hound. The one time he was careless.

The hound was no longer around, and he regretted that. He liked dogs. He liked that one, upset as he was when she chewed the diary years ago. She was still a good, loyal dog. He had to butcher her with the rest.

Stannis tried to remember when they ate the dogs. Thinking was a slow, laborious process now. He had to sit down to do it, and getting up was even worse. He stayed standing as long as possible, afraid of what would happen if he stopped. He couldn’t stop, not while his men needed him, and Renly, and Robert.

He moved slowly. It was hard to tell if it was to conserve energy or if he simply had no energy left. Stannis carefully unwrapped the small leather strap that kept the diary bound and closed. His shaking hands struggled to grasp the paper and turn the pages, but he managed. It was the writing that was the hardest. At least there was plenty of paper and ink, only because no one could eat it.

When he looked at the page again, the lighting was different. The candle was lower than before. He’d dropped his quill on the floor — no, he was on the floor, leaning against the cool stone. Stannis didn’t remember falling. He wasn’t sure if he passed out, or fell asleep. Again he turned to the proper page and picked up the quill. He tried to write before he remembered he needed ink. The ink dragged across the page as he wrote languidly, Are you there

The question mark was more of an ugly splotch that spread across the paper.

Yes, always.

Her family supported the rebellion, being sworn to Eddard Stark, and outraged at what the Mad King had done to his father and brother. Stannis told himself it made writing easier, not that he’d ever give her any information that could endanger her. Early on, they didn’t speak of it. Especially now, he couldn’t. He couldn’t…

He couldn’t… think. Stannis struggled for words. He mentioned what day it was, how many men he had left. A log that helped keep him grounded, something he hated to subject her to, but he needed the clarity. Sometimes she corrected him on the day, and that startled him. As he finished his short report, his hand trembled, and he dropped the quill again. Stannis exhaled, forcing the air through his lungs, then struggled to breath in again.

Not for the first time, he wondered if this was dying.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he looked at the page again. She wrote a lot, and he couldn’t remember when it was there.

When you make it through this disgusting siege — and you will make it, Stannis — I’ll be there. I swear it, I’ll sail down to Storm’s End with my family’s ships. I don’t care anymore. I want to be there.

She’d said as much before, when this started. Stannis discouraged her. He didn’t have the strength for that anymore. Instead, he fought to keep his eyes open, fought to think about it, difficult as thinking was. Thinking of their meeting used to be a surefire way of a day full of anxious thoughts, but now it was… grounding. He couldn’t see the end of the rebellion, or the end of this siege. He just had to endure it. That’s what Robert said: Endure it, brother. Hold it for me.

But he could see her, in his thoughts. He could try. Some years ago, she asked what he looked like, and he responded as such: Blue eyes, black hair, like his father and brothers. Asking the same of her felt… strange. She didn’t answer right away, so he panicked. He said she didn’t have to do such a thing. It was inappropriate. She told him to wait, which he thought was odd.

Several hours later, she took up nearly a whole page with a ‘messy’ self-portrait: her words, not his. It was only a bust, but it still transfixed him. It was clear from the drawing she had looked in a mirror, and it was messy, and it was surrounded by words describing her hair color and her favorite dress and her eyes. Stannis couldn’t look at the page for days after that. He’d break out in a sweat just thinking about it.

It was comforting to think about the old picture now. Maybe 'comforting' wasn’t the right word, but she was the one who was good with words, and pictures, and little fantasies like this. She liked to write about what they could do if they met.

Maybe he took too long to respond again. She had written more. We’ll meet and you’ll show me the drum walls around Storm’s End. You promised. I’ll bring my best paintings, I made one for you. I don’t care if it’s allowed or not, it’s a gift. I want to see you so badly it hurts.

Stannis touched the letters. He was startled by how his pale hands seemed to blend into the parchment. He didn’t recognize the knuckles sticking out. He wondered what she sounded like, and how she laughed. He didn’t think he could manage it now. Stannis glanced around for the quill, dipped it into ink with a great deal of effort, and slowly slid it across the paper. He stopped abruptly, ruining the words.

You’re the strongest, most noble man I know. You will make it through this and the rebellion will end, and I’ll be with you. I swear it before the old gods and new.

The ink seeped into the paper, the quill trembled in his hand as he tried to hold it properly. He was dying, he decided. Only dying men ate disgusting leather they tried to boil into water and infected rats. Even the latter was becoming scarce. He scrawled a response, struggling to pull the words together.

I miss you.

I miss you too, Stannis.

[yutahoes]

No Longer

pairing : ex lovers (band bassist! Yuta Nakamoto x doctor! Y/N) ft. NCT 127

word count : 2.4k words

genre : angst

summary : It’s been years since the break-up but no one can seem to move on yet. 

tag list : @ailoveyuta @yutazen01​ @aiforyuu​ @cosmiclatte28​ @2-3-t-i​ 

The bass of the pub music kept on ringing on Taeyong’s ear. It was a miracle that his friends invited him to watch them play. He had known the members of the club since college and he was amazed that they’re picking up popularity. When the five finished their set, they quickly went to Taeyong’s table. An awkward silence engulfing them made him curious. Did they fight? 

Yuta took a glass of beer and started drinking it in one gulp. Taeyong gave the band vocalist a look as if asking what the problem is. “He’s been in a sour mood all night,” Taeil explained. 

Johnny nodded then stopped Yuta from taking another swig of beer. “He never mentioned anything wrong.” Mark, the rhythm guitarist of the group, claimed. Taeyong nodded. Among the five, he’s the closest to Yuta, so he’ll know what happened. 

“He probably fought with Mika again,” Jungwoo stated and Yuta slammed the glass on the table with a loud thud. 

He glared at the five other guys on the table. “She wanted me to marry her,” Yuta whispered that made Taeyong shake his head. So that was it. 

“Why not? You’re already dating for six years.” Johnny asked. It was a mystery why they’re still together when all they do is fight. But then, maybe, it was the charm of their relationship. 

Taeyong had to sigh when the bassist stared at him with his watery eyes. “Yong, I can still dream of her every night...” And his head dropped on the table. Yuta is really a bad drinker. 

This isn’t new. Whenever he’s drunk, he would always look for her. But whenever they’re in the same place, they’ll play cat and mouse on each other. His bandmates just stared at him in pity then at Taeyong who was dialing someone on his phone, “Doyoung, I need your help.” 

--

Y/N was doing her hospital rounds when Haechan from reception beeped to tell her that someone is looking for her. Thinking that it was an emergency, she immediately went to the lobby to check who it was. She greeted the new nurse before asking who the visitor was only to be greeted by her brother, Doyoung, and his bestfriend Taeyong. “What is it?” she asked, annoyed. She still has lots of things to do. 

“You know that I love you right?” Doyoung asked that made her wide-eyed. She screamed when Taeyong suddenly carried her to his shoulders, out of the hospital. What is this? Where are they taking you? “We figured you needed a vacation.” her brother explained when his friend put her down. 

She gave the two of a curious gaze but Taeyong just shrugged, opening the van. “Noona!” Mark greeted which made her smile. When was the last time she saw him? Even Jungwoo started hugging her, pulling her inside the van. 

“Wait, my things are still inside. And I…” Y/N stopped when her fellow intern in the hospital, Jaehyun, handed her bag. “What is this?” 

He smiled, dimples appearing on both cheeks. “Enjoy your vacation, Y/N. You deserve it.” The girl just looked at him in surprise. “I’ll take care of everything here. Just come back in one piece.” He even greeted Doyoung that made her more surprised. When did Doyoung and Jaehyun become close? 

The door of the van closed. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s handsome.” Jungwoo teased. 

“No way!” You quickly revolted. “My past boyfriend is more handsome than him.” Mark chuckled then she heard someone coughing from behind before seeing the past boyfriend leaning by the window, smiling to himself. Instead, she turned to Johnny who she greeted enthusiastically then at Taeil who gave her a high five. “So, where are we going?” But they just shrugged. 

They stopped over in a gas station and she took this opportunity to change into her casual clothes. The moment she went out of the ladies’ room, Yuta was leaning by the wall. She lightly glanced at him then decided to walk past him but he quickly took her duffel bag and opened the van door for her, putting the bag on the back of the van where some of their things are. 

Mark and Jungwoo transferred on the back, sharing the small space with Johnny and Taeil. “We’re fine here,” Jungwoo said that Johnny even smiled. “We wanted to get closer with each other.” The girl shook her eyes then sat properly, creating a huge gap between her and Yuta, when he sat beside her. 

She isn’t stupid. She knew why they’re doing this. But why? She can’t seem to wrap her head on that. It’s been years. Haven’t they moved on? 

Haven’t you moved on yet? She asked herself. Y/N shook her head. Of course, she did. 

There were a lot of conversations in the car, Taeyong was driving and Doyoung is next to him. Johnny even asked how is Doyoung’s work which made the girl surprised. Does Johnny know her brother? It was a wrong question to ask since it was Taeil who answered that Doyoung used to be her chaperone whenever they had date nights with Yuta. Again, she was reminded about her and Yuta. 

A phone rang and everyone glanced at Yuta when he mentioned the name, Mika. He was so quiet while talking to the person on the other line as if sharing a secret. But Y/N clearly heard his silent ‘I love you too’. He moved on. He found another girl already. Well, it’s already years. That’s acceptable. “I didn’t know you were dating someone,” Doyoung claimed and she swore, the air inside the van is so thick that she’s burdened by it. Yuta just nodded. “How long have you been dating?” 

“Six years?” You gasp then covered your mouth quickly. That long? But wait, that only means that he had a girlfriend after they broke up. And fuck, she felt betrayed. 

You really need to move on, Y/N. 

--   

The house that Doyoung and Taeyong rented for the vacation is near a beach but what made her amazed is a trail to the mountain at the back of the house. Excited, Y/N started forcing Doyoung to go on a hike with her but he kept saying that he’s tired. So she asked Johnny who just shook his head. Even Mark doesn’t want to go hiking. 

It’s a good day and she really wanted to go to the peak of the mountain. “I’ll come with you,” Yuta claimed that made her surprised. She’s convinced that Yuta kept on avoiding her so what is this now? But then, she shouldn’t be wary of him. Isn’t he the one who had a girlfriend just months after the breakup? Everyone looked surprised when she agreed with a smile on her face. 

It isn’t as awkward as she thought. Yuta had always been her buddy when hiking so this is normal. The only weird thing is that she cannot ask for his help even if the steps are kind of slippery. The slope was too steep that she doesn’t know where to step. Maybe hiking is a bad idea. He held a hand for her to hold and she hesitated before taking it. He helped her up, not letting go of his hold on her. Until the two reached the peak. 

Her eyes were sparkling at the scene in front of her. She could see how the mountain meets the shore then the sea. Even the sun setting makes everything so picturesque. A camera shutter was heard then she turned at Yuta who took another picture of the view in front. Shit, she thought, her phone was in her bag. "Fuck! My phone." She groaned, frustrated. She wanted Doyoung to see this and tease them for not hiking with her. 

"I'll send you the picture," Yuta assured and she nodded. 

The girl crouched down on the grass, wanting to bask in the breeze of the mountain peak before heading down. Yuta removed his jacket, revealing a sleeveless inside, then placed it on the ground for her to sit on. She thanked him and he just smiled, shaking his head. Isn't he cold? But then, Yuta is always wearing a sleeveless that she had this obsession on his arms. Even now, she wanted to sink her teeth on his skin. But Yuta isn't hers now. 

"Y/N." Yuta called and she just answered a 'yeah?', eyes still focused on the setting sun. "I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you." She bit her lip, waiting for a continuation. "I have to admit that I wasn't sure that you'll be a doctor, especially when you started focusing on that dream and not on our future…" 

"Is that why you broke up with me?" Yuta stopped that made her laugh. "I get it now." She exclaimed. "I've always wondered what went wrong with the two of us." 

 "Y/N…" 

She shook her head then stood up. "And I wanted to thank you Yuta, for breaking up with me that time," she said sincerely, facing him. Yuta thought that this is the first time that she stared at him. His memory flashing back to those moments where she kept crying and he can't do anything for her. "We wouldn't be here if not for that. I wouldn't be a doctor and you wouldn't continue playing the bass for the band." But what she said next made him roll his eyes at her, "You wouldn't be happy with your girlfriend. Mika, right?" 

The guy laughed, a menacing laughing that surprised Y/N. "Funny of you to think that we're happy." She feigned a shock even claiming that they're dating for six years already. "Five, going on six." He corrected and it was now her turn to roll her eyes at him, it's the same. "She's forcing me to marry her just because her friends are married." 

The girl chuckled lightly. "Then why aren't you proposing to her?" 

"I'm not ready to settle down." 

"Really, Nakamoto?" She gasped. "I remember you asking me to get married on our third anniversary." She exclaimed then stopped. "Didn't you want to have children early?" 

He smirked. "So you rejected my proposal." Y/N pursed her lips at that. "It's different. I saw my future with you. Us getting married, having kids in our small apartment." He then shook his head. "But her," He gave an exasperated sigh. "I can't see any of that." 

"I'm sorry, Yuta." She said then handed him the jacket. "I'm not the right person you should talk to about this." She walked first, heading down the slope of the mountain but missed a step that made her slip. God, what is wrong with her? 

--

The other guys were worried when they went back to the rest house. Yuta carried her on his back, and there was blood on her leg. "How can a doctor be injured like this?" Jungwoo teased that made the girl hiss at him. 

Yuta took her to the shower room, washing the dirt and blood on her leg. "Does it hurt?" he asked calmly that made her shake her head. It's bearable. "Tell me what I should do to clean your wound." 

"It's fine. Don't bother." 

"Just let me fix your wound." 

"You can't, Yuta!" 

Doyoung entered the room, staring at the two of them in surprise. "Sorry, are you two…?" But the girl just sighed and Yuta sat down on the bathroom floor as if frustrated over something. "I called Jaehyun, he wants to talk to you." 

When did Doyoung and Jaehyun become this close? But the girl took the phone to her ear calling his name. "Hey, what happened? How are you so clumsy?" Y/N was startled, why is he so worried? "I'm driving there. In the meantime, just put a bandage on your wound. If you do not have…" 

"I know what to do, Jae." 

"But I just wished, I was there to take care of you." He whispered. "You always hurt yourself…" The girl stared at the person who's giving her the greatest pain now, seated on the toilet floor and still checking on her leg. "I want to take that away from you." 

This is it, isn't it? Yuta wouldn't be able to fix the wound. Someone else can. A doctor can. "I'll wait for you, Jae." Jaehyun can. 

The door was closed, Doyoung isn't inside like earlier and there's just her and Yuta. "I still think of you from time to time, you know?" Y/N started. "If you're eating well. If you're warm. Sometimes, I caught myself drifting to thoughts of you." Yuta was about to speak up, but she raced him in talking, "But I realized there would really come a time when you'll love the memory more than you'll love the person." 

He stared at her in surprise. "I'm sorry for always rejecting your proposal. I'm really scared of the future that time." She confessed. "You were struggling with the band and I have these high dreams that I felt like we're pulling each other back. I love you, really. But I cannot give you the future that you want.” 

“I know,” Yuta answered then held Y/N’s cheek. Sliding his thumb on her cheek to wipe the tears she didn’t know just flowed on her. “And I’m sorry that you would always cry because of me. I guess I’m really not the right guy for you.” 

But he is. Maybe not in this lifetime. 

There’s really such a thing as right love at the wrong time. 

When Jaehyun came to the beach house, everyone was just staring at him then at Yuta who was sitting on the couch nearby, phone at hand. “What happened?” Taeil asked, eyeing how Jaehyun treats the girl’s wound and her, laughing playfully at him. 

Yuta just shook his head as Taeyong tapped his shoulder. His eyes were stuck on his phone, a picture of her smiling at the sunset. It was supposed to be a new part of his collection of her smiles. That smile that always gave him strength all this time. But the smile isn’t his now, watching how she smiled at another guy. 

Sighing, he quickly typed a message. ‘Mika, what is your ring size?’ A bitter smile appeared on his lips when he hit send, followed by erasing hundreds of smiling photos of her. A goodbye to his first love. 

[oddarin]

It is one of the most meaningless thing I’ve done in time - all least-to-most ranks and just characters’ fact answers (those that with no pictures) from oficial Ask Arcana gathered in one place. Have no idea what that information could be used for and if it even useful but it kept me occupied and distracted from some life shit for a while, so let it be.

who is most to least likely to enjoy the movie Frozen? Lucio, Portia, Julian, Asra, Muriel, Nadia

Out of the cast, who is the most to least likely to be the jealous type? Portia, Lucio, Muriel & Nadia (tied), Julian, Asra

would you like to rank the characters from who cries most to least ugly? like from sniveling to shoujo manga tears? Muriel, Lucio, Julian, Portia, Asra, Nadia

who is the most to least superstitious Portia, Julian, Nadia, Lucio, Asra, Muriel

most to least excited to be at a WWE event Portia, Lucio, Asra, Julian, Nadia, Muriel

From worst to best at handling children Nadia, Lucio, Muriel, Asra, Portia, Julian

From worst to best for alcohol tolerance Muriel, Asra, Lucio, Julian, Portia, Nadia

Character ranking from best at keeping secrets to loose-liped gossip? Asra, Muriel, Nadia, Lucio, Portia, Julian

best to worst dancers? Asra, Portia, Julian, Nadia, Lucio, Muriel

Most to Least likely to slap you for stealing a mcnugget Nadia, Lucio, Asra, Portia, Julian, Muriel

Least to most likely to eat something weird (read: probably shouldn't be eaten) because of a dare? Nadia, Julian, Muriel, Lucio, Portia, Asra and not even on a dare

how old are each of the revealed characters? everyone is old, but in order of least old to most old: Asra, Portia, Muriel, Julian, Lucio, Nadia

Who's the best kisser? Who's the worst? Best kisser: Faust (good snake smooches) Worst kissers: Mercedes and Melchior (too much cronch)

-------------------------------------------------

If the main 6 played MTG what color decks would they play? Asra: Blue Nadia: White Julian: Black (Portia made his for him) Portia: White/Green Muriel: Green Lucio: Red

How did cast look as babies? Nadia: The best baby, perfect in form and function Asra: A cute baby, always looking around Julian: Not the most handsome baby, a little gangly Portia: Round, squealing delightful baby Lucio: Red-faced screaming awful baby Muriel: Sturdy and well insulated for the long winter

Of the main six characters, which ones are capable of juggling and which ones would absolutely love doing needlepoint? capable of juggling: Portia, Asra, Muriel absolutely love doing needlepoint: Nadia, Julian incapable of juggling/ absolutely hate doing needlepoint: Lucio

what would the cast choose as their job in the mmo final Fantasy XIV? Julian: Dragoon Asra: Astrologian Lucio: Ninja, but he messes up the mudras Nadia: Machinist Portia: Summoner Muriel: Paladin

What would be the favorite attractions/rides of the cast at Disney? Julian: Pirates of the Caribbean Asra: Astro Orbiter Lucio: Tower of Terror (RIP) Muriel: Matterhorn Portia: California Screamin' Nadia: Carousel of Progress

What do the rest of the cast smell like? Nadia: Les Larmes Sacree Du Thebes by Baccarat Asra: Lord of Misrule Lush Shower Cream Julian: Leather seats in a rental car Portia: Cocoa butter and laundry soap Lucio: Fireball, Axe body spray & ass Muriel: myrrh

What board game would The Arcana gang be? Nadia: Clue Asra: Twister Julian: Sorry! Portia: Mouse Trap Lucio: Monopoly Muriel: Guess Who

Who do all the cast main in over watch? Nadia: Ana Asra: Sombra Julian: Reaper Portia: Zarya Muriel: Bastion Lucio: Genji

If everyone participated in a Winter Olympic sport, which one would they be in? Nadia: figure skate (singles) Asra: snowboarding Julian: alpine ski Portia: freestyle ski Muriel: luge Lucio: ice hockey

Main casts Starbucks orders? Julian: Black coffee and he flirts with the barista until it’s ready. Nadia: London Fog Latte. She comes in at exactly 8 every morning. Asra: Matcha latte unless there’s a new radioactive-looking Frappuccino flavor and then he gets that. Muriel: Waiting outside in the car, asks Asra to get him a water. Asra comes back with a hot chocolate and a cake pop. Muriel grumbles but accepts them every time. Lucio: Salted Caramel Mocha extra whip extra sprinkles nonfat no foam soy upside down actually coconut milk instead and then he yells at you if you get it wrong. Portia: Pink Drink and all the baristas get excited when she walks in because they love her and she always tips.

The cast as Kanye songs Nadia: Power Lucio: No Church in the Wild Asra: Love Lockdown Julian: Heartless Portia: Paranoid Muriel: Coldest Winter

Which characters would be in the fire, water, earth, and air nations? Slightly different from what you asked, but: Asra - waterbender Nadia - airbender Julian & Portia - non-benders Muriel - Earthbender Lucio - Firebender

What kind of parents are the cast at their child’s soccer game? Nadia: standing on the sidelines in sunglasses and heels biting her thumbnail and watching every move on the field because she doesnt trust the ref Asra: cheers whenever anything happens, takes as many kids as can fit in the car out for ice cream but doesn’t check with the parents Julian: chats up the other parents relentlessly and isn’t watching when his kid gets hit in the face with the ball Portia: “cmon cmon cmon cmon cmon cmon cmon AW WHAT WAS THAT” Muriel: watching from the parking lot inside the car Lucio: yelling on the phone the whole time, spills all 24 oz of his salted caramel mocha on the bench and doesn’t do anything about it

Which Disney movie is the favorite of each of the cast? Nadia: Fantasia 2000 Asra: The Emperor’s New Groove Julian: Muppet Treasure Island Portia: Muppet Treasure Island Muriel: The Fox and the Hound Lucio: Cinderella 2: Dreams Come True

what kind of youtube channel would each character have (letsplay, cooking, craft, etc)? Asra: very unstructured mostly-cooking channel that also features videos of him just eating weird things, and videos of Faust existing and being cute Nadia: beauty guru with very polished high-end editing Julian: doesn’t know how to use youtube but Portia made an account for him and uploads her shaky/blurry phone videos of his jazz performances Portia: likes and comments on all of Nadia’s videos while occasionally posting cute cat vids Muriel: does not have an internet connection Lucio: extremely loud letsplayer, mostly FPS

What would the cast be as animal crossing villagers? Muriel: Cranky Bear Julian: Smug Eagle Portia: Uchi Cat Nadia: Snooty Ostrich Asra: Lazy Wolf Lucio: Jock Goat

What Fire Emblem Fates' classes would each character be? Asra - Diviner Nadia - Priestess Julian - Adventurer Portia - Maid Muriel - Wolfskin Lucio - Berserker

if the arcana cast were naruto characters, which ones would they be Portia: Naruto Muriel: Gaara Lucio: Orochimaru Julian: Itachi Asra: Kakashi Nadia: Fancy Shikamaru

If the characters of arcana watched rupaul's drag race who would be their faves? Nadia: bebe, raja, peppermint Asra: yara, aja, adore Julian: nina bo’nina, sasha, raven Portia: chichi, bob, ginger Lucio: willam, kimora, mimi imfurst Muriel: Latrice Royale

WHAT ARE THE CHARAS PREFERRED FLAVOR OF ICE CREAM? Nadia: Lavender Lemon Asra: Rainbow Sorbet Julian: Pistachio Portia: Cookie Dough Muriel: Rocky Road Lucio: Red Velvet

Please please arcana cast as mcr songs Lucio: It’s Not a Fashion Statement, It’s a Deathwish Julian: Thank You For The Venom Asra: Welcome To The Black Parade Muriel: House of Wolves Nadia: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison Portia: Give Em Hell Kid

What are the characters going to be for Halloween? Asra - glow-in-the-dark mermaid Nadia - [elegant ballgown interpretation of] a swan Julian - tortured vampire/werewolf hybrid Muriel - sheet ghost Portia - ninja turtle Lucio - slutty angel Faust - a very long hot dog

If you had to assign the characters from the Arcana to characters from Labyrinth who would they be? Nadia: Jareth Asra: Sara Julian: Sir Didymus Portia: Hoggle Muriel: Ludo Lucio: The Chilly Down birds

What's each character's favourite fruits? Nadia: Concord Grape Asra: Blue Raspberry Julian: Fig Portia: Banana Muriel: Lemon Lucio: Pomegranate

what's everyone's favorite season? Asra - spring Nadia - summer Julian - autumn Muriel - winter Portia - spring Lucio - summer

Who would the Arcana cast be in a cliche Noir Film? Nadia: boss with kinetic ball bearing desk ornament and brandy in the drawer Asra: first love turned old flame that you run into halfway around the world Julian: haggard scientist with an unbuttoned shirt scribbling on the walls Portia: wisecracking secretary who takes a bus a train and a ferry to work Muriel: ominous farmer that lets people use the phone after a car breaks down Lucio: raging starlet shattering a vase after being blacklisted by every studio

The Arcana cast as Michael Jackson songs? Nadia: Man in the Mirror Asra: You Are Not Alone Julian: Smooth Criminal Portia: Will You Be There Muriel: Ben Lucio: Bad

What would each character be in cats? This probably wasn’t supposed to be Cats the musical but if you think i’m gonna pass this up Nadia: None they’re all awful/ Munkustrap Asra: Mister Mistoffelees Julian: Macavity Portia: Jennyanydots Lucio: Rum Tum Tugger Muriel: Grizabella

what would their favorite emojis be? Asra: 🌚 Nadia: 🍷 Julian: 🎷 Portia: 👀 Muriel: 👁 Lucio: 💃💸😏👑

What panic at the disco songs describe each character best? Julian: Death of a Bachelor Asra: I Write Sins Not Tragedies Portia: She’s a Handsome Woman Nadia: Northern Downpour Lucio: Victorious Muriel: From a Mountain in the Middle of the Cabins

What stereotypes for a super cliché highschool do the characters fall into? Nadia: Valedictorian who has been doing independent study and hasn’t set foot in the building for the past two years Asra: Shows up late every class with loud ass Sunchips, does homework in glow in the dark gel pen Julian: Eats lunch with his teacher so they can keep talking about mitochondria Portia: Gets really hype about dances, always ends up fighting at dances Muriel: Puts away all the folding chairs that everyone left behind Lucio: Gets on the intercom to talk shit about the teacher who gave him a D+ on his plagiarized essay

What sports would the characters play? And would they be any good at those sports? Muriel: Any solitary sport. He likes track and shotput. Nadia: Swimming. She isn’t on a team, she just likes the water. Portia: Wrestling. She’s got a few championship belts. Julian: Grandma Devorak forced him to take One Sport in high school, and he chose long-distance running. Asra: Beach volleyball and snowboarding. He’s just there to have a good time. Lucio: Ice hockey, but he spends it mostly punching other players.

what dragons from books/movies/games match each character best, would you say? As for dragons, one of our writers plays Flight Rising obsessively so here’s every character as a Flight Rising breed. Asra: Fae Nadia: Imperial Lucio: Wildclaw Muriel: Guardian Julian: Skydancer Portia: Snapper

What is each character most likely to do with the mc when they're feeling 'unusually affectionate'? Nadia: feed them champagne grapes and engage them in conversation so she can watch them try to talk with their mouth full Asra: stare at them and stop acknowledging anyone or anything else Julian: preen and spoil them to the point of being a public embarrassment Portia: constant cuddly contact Muriel: follow them at a respectable distance Lucio: belt out an aria at the sight of them

What's everyone favorite manga if they read any in this world? Nadia: Rose of Versailles Asra: Yugioh Julian: Blackjack Portia: Ranma ½ Muriel: Hunter x Hunter Lucio: Berserk

how much does faust like all the characters? like, who does she like the most/least? does she like the main character at all? Faust adores the main character almost as much as she loves Asra. But if she had to choose from the rest: Most good smelling: Nadia Most fun to squeeze: Julian Most too big to eat: Muriel Most hard to hide from: Portia Most attackable: Lucio

what kind of drunk is everybody? Nadia: capable, professional drunk on the move. Never in the same room twice Asra: touchy-feely but won’t leave the couch, still somehow manages to catch on fire Julian: morphs into The Storyteller, everyone in earshot ends up caught in a dramatic reenactment of his life story waiting for him to take a breath but he never does Portia: makes 6 new friends in the bathroom line Muriel: moody, talks to no one, keeps taking everybody’s empty bottles out to the trash Lucio: the loudest, the drama, the legend, the first to dip out when the cops show up

Of the Characters: Who tells a dirty joke? Who doesn't understand it? Who is disgusted? Who laughs? Who hides a smile? Who gets annoyed? Lucio: tells a dirty joke Muriel: doesn’t understand it Julian: is disgusted Asra: laughs Portia: hides a smile Nadia: gets annoyed

What are the characters usual reactions when subbing their toes? Nadia: It Does Not Happen Asra: hops it off Julian: hissing, closes his eyes while he savors the pain Portia: (string of curses) “ok………. i’m fine” Muriel: doesn’t notice because his toes are too far away Lucio: shrieks, revenge kicks the wall, shrieks harder

what you think everyones deadly sin would be? the deadly cliches: Nadia - Pride Asra - Lust Julian - Wrath Portia - Envy Muriel - Sloth Lucio - Gluttony

On a scale of good to bad, who sings karaoke? Nadia has a silky voice with impeccable vibrato. But she only sings karaoke alone in the bath. Asra has an airy, intimate voice. He’s the worst at karaoke because he doesn’t even get up off the couch. Julian has very limited singing ability, but he will talk sing the whole way through if he has to. He’s great at duets, somehow. Portia has a throaty, powerful voice. She brings the house down with Heart and Bonnie Tyler ballads, even if she squeaks on the high notes. Muriel has a gravelly grumble that he is convinced is useless for singing and if you hand him the microphone he’ll drop it and go stand in the corner. Lucio has an overdone musical theater voice but he is tone deaf. He will shout out the high notes and power through the rest and if you try to skip his song there will be hell to pay

which social media platform which each character Prefer™ ? Asra - twitter (RTs a lot of memes and shitposts, posts incomprehensible dril-like tweets at 3am) Nadia - instagram (flawless makeup and aesthetic™) Julian - yahoo answers Portia - snapchat Muriel - what is social media Lucio - LinkedIn (you will NEVER stop getting email notifications from him)

what dnd classes would the cast be (like mage, assassin, cleric etc)? Nadia: Paladin Asra: Warlock Julian: Rogue Portia: Bard Muriel: Fighter Lucio: Barbarian

what would each characters spice girl name be Asra: Mystery Spice Nadia: Boss Spice Julian: Suffering Spice Portia: Sassy Spice Muriel: Surly Spice Lucio: Spicy Spice

how complicated is each character's personal hygiene routine? Nadia’s personal hygiene routine: an exact science and takes a practiced team of servants to execute. Julian’s personal hygiene routine: splashing his face 5-7 times and gargling with his famous mint vodka peroxide formula Asra’s personal hygiene routine: sticking his head underwater until he’s awake Portia’s personal hygiene routine: putting her hair in a bun and scrubbing herself with a cloth and bucket down by the frog pond Lucio’s personal hygiene routine: milk and caviar bath every 13 hours Muriel’s personal hygiene routine: standing in the pouring rain

What's everyone's favorite alcoholic drinks? Asra - St Germain, tequila, blue curaçao,  lime juice, hibiscus syrup (serve in a champagne flute or martini glass, garnished with a wildflower or tiny umbrella) Julian - whiskey, Kahlua, Grand Marnier, lemon juice (serve in a highball glass) Nadia - Chambord, white wine, seltzer (serve in a wine glass, chilled or on the rocks) Portia - beer & apple cider with a shot of rum (serve in a lowball glass) Muriel - Baileys, butterscotch schnapps, hot chocolate (serve warm, in your coziest mug) Lucio - Jägermeister & Goldschläger topped with overproof rum (serve as a flaming shot)

what would be each of the characters' favorite genre of music? Asra: Bossa Nova and EDM Nadia: Obscure Opera and Calming beach sounds Julian: 20 minute tracks of Quality Jazz Portia: Reggae and dad rock Muriel: New wave and white noise Lucio: Top 40 and Dark Funky Disco

who would the arcana characters be from mean girls?? Asra: the guy who asked what day it was Nadia: cady Julian: gretchen weiners Portia: janis Lucio: regina george Muriel: damian

Which Hogwarts house would each of the Main Cast belong in? Asra & Julian - Ravenclaw Nadia - Slytherin Portia & Muriel - Hufflepuff Lucio - Gryffindor

What would the characters modern!au job/career of choice be? Lucio owns and manages several nightclubs and has a trashy daytime talk show Asra does really low-budget magic shows at kids’ birthday parties by day, and DJs at one of Lucio’s clubs at night Nadia is the city mayor, an international chess champion, and concert pianist Portia works at Home Depot (used to be a waitress at Red Lobster but the tips were terrible), but she wants to be a zookeeper Julian is a doctor at an underfunded hospital with lots of drama Muriel lives off the grid in a broken-down van in the woods

Just due to mild curiosity what would be the casts favorite musicals? Asra - Legally Blonde: The Musical Nadia - Chicago Julian - Les Mis Muriel - Wicked Portia - Cats! Lucio - Phantom of the Opera / Kinky Boots (it’s a tie)

what cryptid is every character Asra = Chupacabra Julian = Mothman Nadia = Nessie Portia = Loveland Frog Muriel = Bigfoot Lucio = Jersey Devil

how would the game's characters celebrate the MC's birthday with them?? Asra would take them on a long journey without telling them where they were going (but would keep them entertained with riddles) to a scenic oasis, where he would pretend to drown so MC has to dive into the water and at the bottom is a magic flute that can summon a swarm of bees (their favorite!) Nadia would throw a tastefully brief festival in their honor. MC would be lavished with pampering (by professional pamperers) from dawn to dusk and when the clock struck midnight, they would be presented with seven bejeweled eagles (one for every day of the week) Julian would meet them for dinner in a shady tavern, bring them heaping plates of food and offer unsolicited advice for the coming year. About halfway through the meal he would have to scramble out the back door because law enforcement arrived on the scene but he’d put it an order in the kitchen to bring them something for dessert Lucio would declare the day a holiday and call it Day of the Beloved One of Lucio. They would have to sit uncomfortably still while a master artiste painted their portrait and a mile-long line of peasants laid gifts at their feet. Muriel doesn’t celebrate birthdays because time is a human construct Portia would throw a big loud party with a barbecue :D

Since it is soon, what would the characters do for Valentines day with us (the MC)? Nadia would take you on an elegant river cruise stocked with 130 varieties of tiny cake and a private crooner hired to serenade you but she would end up throwing them overboard for not hitting the high notes Asra would take you to the mall and splurge on all the stuff you both can’t afford but wait way too long to get lunch so you get into a fight and he proposes in the food court Julian would show up on the 15th after with all the candy he scored at 75% off, pretend it was on purpose that he got the day wrong, and wake you up at 3 am to come clean because the guilt was eating him alive Muriel would light some scented candles, cook up a sensual meal and throw a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace for you to enjoy alone while he escapes into the woods Portia would pack a picnic of chicken and tortilla chips, take you to the beach where you could splash around until the sun goes down and lull you to sleep on the sandy blanket with her acoustic guitar Lucio would have servants fill your room with floor to ceiling flowers while you sleep and wait impatiently for you to wake up like

Would you roommate with any of the characters? it’s hard to decide, so here are some pros and cons Asra - pro: never home / con: leaves dishes in the sink for weeks Nadia - pro: your home will be spotless / con: it’s spotless because she orders you to clean it for her Julian - pro: medical professional / con: half of your apartment is now this

rate the characters on how #extra they are Muriel: 4/10 Lucio: 13/10 Everyone else: 10/10

Which character could be best described as "tender"?? "Spicy"??? “tender”: Muriel “tender”/“Spicy”: Asra, Portia “Spicy”/”tender”: Julian, Nadia “Spicy”: Lucio

what the favorite Pokemon of all the characters were. Asra - Ekans, Delphox, Espeon Nadia - Noctowl, Gardevoir, Musharna Julian - Absol, Bisharp, Murkrow Portia - Chansey, Politoed, Hoothoot Muriel - Pangoro, Aggron, Wigglytuff Lucio - Houndoom, Pyroar, Skarmory

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Three

Hiiii, all you cool cats and kittens 😂😂😂😂. Okay but seriously, imma just word vomit all the things I need to cover in this author’s note — that I can remember.

I’ve been writing this chapter for like a week, I’m super nervous about it, I’m really sorry if this angst is upsetting you, I am gonna do my best to make it all right in the end, the angst is gonna continue though for a bit longer, yes this fic is only 10 chapters, yes I still want your comments even if you’re upset, my eye is still having trouble so I can’t look at a computer screen for too long because it physically hurts so I’m editing on my phone and there is a high chance I’ll re-edit these chapters after my eye isn’t all Heltor Skeltor anymore.

Okay I think that’s everything, I very much am gratefully for all the feedback I’ve received and I hope you all continue to read this fic.

Peeta stayed for hours after that. He smiled and laughed and, for a while, made me forget all about my unbearable loneliness, how empty this home feels, how uncomfortable I am with the prospect of my mother moving on with her life, how much I really miss my sister right now.

How I miss my sister more than anything.

He still makes me feel safe, I realized, as we sat on the couch and ate our third helping of the chocolate cake he’d baked for me. He knows how much I love chocolate from all the meals we shared on the train.

“Actually, from the time you decided to just eat the chocolate fountain by itself,” he had corrected. Off my quizzical look, he added, “At Snow mansion? We were there for a party?”

“Our engagement party?” I amended, teasing him a little.

My attempt at levity works as I watch his mouth contort into smirk in response. “Sorry, I guess I forgot what party it was.”

“They did drag us to a lot of them,” I agreed, not foreseeing the jab he was about to throw.

“And you pigged out at every one of them.”

I pretended to be offended for a moment but his proud laughter made me lose the facade far sooner than I should have. The joyful glint to his gaze, the way his body language was relaxed and open, the way he seemed to remember small details of our shared past now, I just couldn’t hold even a false grudge against him. I just couldn’t help giggling alongside him.

But he had to leave around dinner time, having an appointment to get the construction for the new rebuilt bakery approved and in motion.

As soon as he departs, and I’m left once again inside a void, hallow house that only emphasizes the greatest loss of my life—the one I’ll probably never go a single day without feeling the ache of—I decide I need to leave too. I decide as soon as I glance around the empty place that it’d be in my best interest to get out as well, to prolong the inevitable despair the deserted home brings come nightfall.

My first thought is to drop off the liquor I picked up for Haymitch a few days ago at the train station. He was passed out drunk and I was already there and it seemed at the time like a good bargaining chip when he was feeling particularly caustic towards me. Which lately had been often.

Now it just poses a good excuse to go talk to the sour man, to perhaps pick his brain about Bailey Robyn. To perhaps see what he knows that I don’t about the mysterious girl who blew into both our lives.

And only evidently disturbed one of them.

He has clearly has gotten to know her better than I have, and he’s quite transparently taken quite a liking to her. If I want to know this girl, or even begin to understand what Peeta sees in her, it only makes sense to get Haymitch to share some details in exchange for his favorite liquor.

After all, our entire relationship has always been a series of bargains, one way or another.

Throughout mine and Peeta’s entire time together—which amounted to the whole afternoon—he had never once mentioned Bailey. He hadn’t said she was waiting for him or what she thought about the cake or if she even knew he would be at my house today.

And for some reason that led me to assume she was busy in town somewhere. That she was working on the salon she mentioned wanting to start up, that she was out doing things herself, that she wasn’t even concerned with Peeta celebrating my birthday today.

That she wasn’t sitting on Haymitch’s counter, talking to him about that very subject.

“It just doesn’t make me feel great, you know?” Her clear and high voice rings out from the window right as I’m gearing up to barge my way inside the pig sty. “I want to go with him, in case he has an episode or something, and he tells me no. Like flat out, full stop, no.”

I slip in through the unlocked front door, quiet as a mouse, eavesdropping like I know I shouldn’t. Like I know is a complete violation of privacy, both for Bailey and for Haymitch. And maybe even Peeta, since he’s the one they’re conferring about.

“He’s stubborn,” Haymitch agrees, sounding more sober than I’ve heard him in months. Sounding more sober than I’ve seen since we were in Thirteen. “Try mentoring him in the games.”

Bailey scoffs at that. “No. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

They share a laugh and I feel my hands tighten around the bottle, as an extremely uncomfortable sensation settles into the pit of my stomach.

They sound like old friends. They sound happy and pleased to be hanging out and conversing. And if I’m being honest, it gives me one more reason to instinctively dislike Bailey, despite the fact that I’m trying hard not to.

Because in the short time she’s been in Twelve, she’s slid into my place in both Peeta and Haymitch’s lives with complete and utter ease. Even beyond taking my place, she’s outrankedme in both men’s lives and entirely knocked me out of the saddle.

That’s what disturbs me above all else. Because—even though I’d never admit it about Haymitch—they were mine. They were my family. They were all I had. They were my haven from the darkness surrounding my entire life. The three of us were a team once.

And now it feels like she didn’t join the group, she kicked me out of it entirely. Haymitch has never had me sit on the counter of his kitchen—not that I really wanted to, the place is absolutely filthy—and talk about my problems. He’s always mocked my feelings and troubles, when they didn’t pertain to the war or rebellion.

I don’t get what is so special about this girl that the two most important people in my life are willing to just let her in. Are just willing to let her take me out without a second thought.

“I mean, is it odd that I wanted to be included?” She inquires genuinely and to my surprise, once again, my old mentor gives her a pretty thoughtful answer. For Haymitch Abernathy, at least.

“They’re both a little weird. War messes with people. Especially kids,��� he murmurs and then grunts uncomfortably. “Don’t get worked up over nothing. Just let whatever happened go and try to be happy.”

For some reason, even without hearing my name mention specifically, I’m fully convinced that they’re conversing about me as well as Peeta. About our afternoon together, void from Bailey’s presence. Without hearing my own name, I still know in my bones I walked in on a talk about me.

Bailey wanted to come today and Peeta told her no? Peeta told her an unequivocal no? Because he wanted to spend time with just me?

That satisfies me beyond measure. That makes me even happier than the carefully handcrafted birthday cake did.

Suddenly, for the first time since she’s arrived in Twelve, I don’t feel like Peeta put me on the back burner to make her more comfortable. I don’t feel like I’m being slided so she can be accommodated to her liking. And that’s a better present to me than anything else I could have asked for.

“But I’m his girlfriend,” she states quietly, before sighing deeply and setting down a glass that she must have been drinking from. Risk-taker, she is. “And I just feel like every day all he thinks about is Katniss. He’s either worried about her or afraid of her.”

Now that catches me completely off-guard. Peeta’s afraid of me? Is he telling Bailey something I don’t know? What did I do that he’s so afraid of?

Please, I internally beg to no one. Please tell me he doesn’t still think of me as a mutt. Please tell me he doesn’t feel the same way about as he did in Thirteen.

No, I venomously refute. That wouldn’t make sense. If he still thought of me that way—the way Snow tried to brainwash him into—he would surely not be baking me a cake and spending an afternoon alone with me.

At least, I don’t think so.

But I’m always wrong nowadays and I long ago learned to stop trusting my instincts because they don’t any good for me in the end anyway and I just end up more jumbled and confused and stressed than I started out.

I take a deep breath to calm myself down just as Haymitch mutters, “That description isn’t a far cry from the kid I met two years ago on the tribute train.”

Evidently, I breathed out too loudly almost immediately, Haymitch barks out, “Is that you, girl?”

Realizing I’m caught, I rip off the bandaid and step out of the corner of the entryway, where I was hiding. “Sorry, I just got here,” I quickly explain. And then, despite my atrocious acting ability, I throw out for good measure, “I didn’t hear anything you guys said, I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Neither of them believe me. In fact, they both appear pretty disgusted with me now. But when I pass Haymitch the bottle of liquor, his features shift and I feel him lightly pat me on the head as he passes me to grab a bottle opener.

“Haymitch,” Bailey murmurs unceremoniously, as she hops off the counter with a grace I have no dream of ever possessing. “I’m going to head on home.”

Her eyes meet mine for a split second before flirting away, and all I see there is irritation.

I hope she doesn’t try again to make nice in a day or so. Quite frankly, there’s a reason I never made many friends. Social interactions aren’t my thing and they just wear me out unnecessarily. Especially girls, who only want to gossip about other people or share clothes or irrelevant life tips. I’d much rather be left alone in solitude than have to yo-yo with Bailey’s mood swings.

Haymitch has always empathized with this trait of mine. More than empathized. He embodied it to the fullest, in a way I never even have. That’s what makes it so startling to me that he’s found such a friend with Peeta’s new girlfriend. It’s downright shocking how pleasant he is towards her.

When he returns now, she’s already gone and he’s right back to his surly self.

“No one clears a room like you do, sweetheart.”

But I’m not interested in swiping back and forth with one another. “Why are you hanging out with Bailey Robyn?”

Haymitch rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at his still unwashed kitchen table.

I mean, if Bailey wanted to help clean in here, that’s where I would have suggested to start.

“The better question, Katniss, is why are youhanging out with Peeta alone? How do you think that makes his girlfriend feel?”

“He’s my friend,” I argue, infuriated by the implication that I have to go through a random stranger to be around Peeta now. Infuriated that it’s Haymitch making the implication nonetheless.

“But he isn’t!” The old man snaps back. “Peeta isn’t your friend, Katniss. You look at him like he hung the moon and you do it right in front of his new girl.”

“No, I don’t,” I retort sharply, because I definitely don’tand I repel the accusation.

“Anyone with eyes can see your stupid little crush,” he exclaims and it stings. The words sting for some reason and I feel the ache in my chest come back once again, because apparently I’m stepping over a line I didn’t even know was there and I’m once again the root of every problem and it’s all becoming too much.

Evidently, Haymitch just doesn’t care if he hurts me today. “Just back off of the boy. Let him be happy for once.”

I uncharacteristically spit an unkind name at Haymitch as I slam his door in my furious wake.

Through his still open kitchen window though, I hear him chuckle. “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before, sweetheart.”

Read More On AO3 Where The Italics Actually Work

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! pt.6

Sorry for being gone for so long, guys! Let's just say it has been one hell of a summer, Soap Opera even O_o; I hope this makes up for it ^_^;, don't forget to reblog and comment, my asks are open

“Ok, no one panic-”

“How can we not panic! You idiots banished Marley to oblivion!” Asmo shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Levi fumbled his phone as his brother’s voice pierced his ears, leaving him stumbling with shaky hands. Belphie looked on and sighed heavily at his bickering older brothers.

“Asmo, calm down, it’s not like she’s dead.” Belphie claimed.

“But she could be! I can’t believe you both can be so irresponsible!”

“Hey, shut it! If you aren’t going to help then stand still and keep your eyes open!” Levi snapped back as he got back on his knees, searching with his phone flashlight.

Satan stroked his chin as he watched Beel cautiously placed the table on the ground before going to another chair and lifting it carefully. Mammon, on the other hand, started chuckling underneath his breath, drawing the attention of his concerned brothers.

“And why are you laughing, scumbag!?” Levi hissed.

“Because while I made a killin’ at the races, you bastards completely messed up and the best part is there is no way I’m gonna get blamed for it.”

Mammon continued to snicker shamelessly as his brothers gave him stares full of disdain. However, a cold chill filled the room as Mammon felt a firm grip upon his shoulder. His laughter shrunk to a slow nervous chuckle as Lucifer appeared behind him.

“Exactly how are you blameless, Mammon?” Lucifer smiled as his grip tightened.

Mammon swallowed hard as he looked for his younger brothers for help, his silent pleas going unanswered.

“Oi, I didn’t even do anythin’ this time!!!” He pleaded.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“As expected, four inches tall.” Simeon claimed as he gently moved the ruler away from the diminished woman.

Marley just snorted as she crossed her arms and avoided eye contact with the towering angel who handed the wooden ruler to his young ward. Solomon crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought, even though deep down he wanted to break out in laughter. Sensing the mischief in the air, Marley’s temper snapped like a twig at the quiet Solomon.

“Well, don’t just sit there, magic man! Hurry up and fix me!” She growled.

Solomon snorted as her tiny voice rang like a gentle bell in his ears. Simeon just shook his head in disapproval while Luke looked on in awe at the little woman on the table.

“I can’t fix this with a spell, Marley. This was done by consumption, not incantation. Seriously, what did you think would happen when you ate Mini Candy with Hydra Blood Fizz?”

“I thought it was like soda and Pop Rocks! Why is food so weird here!?” Marley screamed as she jumped up and down.

“You really need to read warning labels down here, Marley. Remember how you almost ate Lunatic Pudding?” Simeon scolded lightly.

“It. Was. Pudding! Who does that to pudding!?”

Marley screamed before squatting down and gripping her hair with grumbling frustration. Her mind raced, wondering how she got into this mess in the first place. She just wanted a simple day of studying without anything going wrong but here she was, standing inches tall, surrounded by the Purgatory crew. Seeing her in distress, Luke offered his sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Marley, you’ll be ok. She’ll turn back to normal soon, right Solomon?”

Solomon grasped his chin gently.

“I don’t see why not but it depends how many candies she ate and how many sodas she drank. If it was only a few, she should turn back to normal soon. So, Marley, how much did you ingest?”

Marley looked away with her face darkened with embarrassment.

“Marley, how much?��� Simeon parroted.

“...Half a bag and three bottles.”

Simeon blinked in disbelief while Solomon sighed heavily.

“Well looks like you’re going to be stuck like this for a while. I should probably message Lucifer to let him know what happened to you.” Simeon said as he pulled out his D.D.D.

Marley jumped to her feet and violently waved her arms in the air.

“DON’T! Anything but that!” She screamed.

“Why not? The brothers must be worried since you disappeared.”

Marley crossed her arms as her face turned grim.

“Yeah, and what do you think is going to happen when they get their hands on me? Especially behind closed doors?”

The room grew quiet as Marley’s statement rang deep within their minds. Solomon and Simeon’s faces turned red with embarrassment as the supposed scenario bloomed in their mindscapes. Luke, on the other hand, tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, what does that mean?” He asked bluntly.

“They’re going to bully her like a cat to a mouse.” Simeon answered quickly and sharply, hoping the young angel took the bait.

Luke gasped in shock while everyone else sighed in relief.

“I won’t let them bully you just because you’re small now! It’s not fair!”

Marley snorted out a laugh before smiling softly with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks, Luke. And thanks to you all for letting me stay here.”

“Don’t mention it. Besides, we can use this time to practice your casting and you being so small, we can practices spells and chants that need a lot of space, since your range has shrunken now.”

Solomon chuckled as Simeon motioned to Luke to follow him to so they could set the table for dinner. Marley snorted at him in retort before looking away in contempt. However, her attention was drawn with the table vibrated gently as the sorcerer rested his head upon his folded arms. He stared at her with his brown-blue eyes which caused Marley to radiate a defensive cold.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You’re covered in dust and lint. How did you end up so dirty?”

Marley looked away with a bit of shame on her face.

“I escaped through a hole in the couch I fell asleep on.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer sighed heavily as he pressed his fingers against his temples. It’s been over three days since Marley disappeared from the common room and they have yet to find any sign of her. He never imagined that he would be on his knees for anyone but here he was, on them looking for the now diminutive Marley. He thought about using Cerberus but he was more of a guard dog than a bloodhound. He groaned quietly as he thought about his brothers’ asinine suggestions from using mousetraps to having a bunch of cats roam the house to scare her out. Surely, she would come out from hunger alone but he dashed that aside when he remembered she was a natural-born survivor. He got to his feet and sighed as he dusted himself off before going to his liquor wall. He picked up a bottle of Demonus and wondered if he could use the enticing liquid as bait to draw her out. However, he buried the thought as Satan and Belphie entered his office.

“Ok, she’s not in the planetarium.” Belphie reported.

“Or the music room.” Satan added.

“Alright, now go and search the kitchen again as well as the dining room.”

Belphie sighed in annoyance while Satan groaned in disgust.

“I don’t want to, I’ve already missed a lot of my napping windows because of this.”

“And I need to catch up on my reading. Don’t you think this would go faster if you punished Beel and Levi after we found her?”

“Not to mention you tied up Mammon too. They’re only four of us looking and we’re running on fumes.”

Lucifer crossed his arms as he heard his younger brothers complain to him with solid logic.

“Fine, go untie them and give them your searching assignments. But let Mammon hang for another hour or two.” He coldly smiled.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I am so sorry, Marley.” Luke sniffled as he stared at the little selkie with watery eyes.

Marley just sighed heavily as she wrapped herself in her pelt. Simeon entered the room to see his protege whimpering for forgiveness from the tiny Marley.

“Wait, what’s wrong, Luke?” He asked out of concern.

Luke looked up at the kind angel as he gently opened his shaky hands revealing shreds of familiar-looking cloth.

“Um, is that Marley’s clothes? What happened?” He questioned softly.

Luke swallowed sharply, holding back his childish tears.

“I was trying to make Cloud Chess Pie and I got so into it, and...and- ”

Luke’s shoulders trembled as he tried to hold back his flood of emotion. Seeing this, Marley got up and drew Simeon’s attention to her so she could finish the tale.

“Yeah, I wanted a closer look but ended up slipping into the mixing bowl and almost ended up in the oven. Lucky for me, Luke noticed me in time before I became a baked good.”

“So that’s what happened. Luke, it’s ok, Marley isn’t mad at you.” Simeon claimed as he gave a gentle embrace to the upset angel.

“But that’s not it! She was covered in custard and I wanted to clean her clothes. I didn’t want them to get lost in the laundry so I tried to hand wash them, and-”

“-He used too much strength and my clothes ended up in shreds.” Marley sighed defeated.

“I see.” Simeon smiled as he hugged Luke, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not mad at Luke, he was only trying to help but now I have no clothes.”

“You don’t have any other clothes in your pelt?”

“I did, but those got ruined while practicing elemental spells with Solomon. So if anything, I’m mad at that jerk!”

“That’s harsh. I warned you if your mind is distracted, spells will backfire.” Solomon defended as he walked into the room.

Marley scowled at the tall sorcerer that smiled at her with his own brand of cheekiness.

“Don’t be such a smartass, I’ll blame you as much as I want.”

“Come on, Marley, that’s a bit much. Why don’t you wear your pelt?”

“I would rather have my pelt hidden so it doesn’t go up in flames again. You know, like when you told me to practice a fire incantation!?”

Solomon raised his hands in defeat as he took a seat at the table.

“Fine, you win. How do you want me to fix this?”

“Turn me back to normal size.”

“Quit that, you know I can’t do that. What if you ended up bigger than you’re supposed to be or you get even smaller?”

Marley just growled in annoyance at the smiling wizard who stared down at her. Solomon, on the other hand, sighed as he got up from the table and walked over to the decorated wall table.

“Don’t worry, I have a solution for this.” He claimed as he walked back to the table with a lightly colored rose in hand.

Marley scrunched up her nose at the flower that Solomon pointed at her with.

“You think giving me a flower is going to keep me from freezing your ears off in your sleep?” She barked.

Solomon just ignored her minor threat as his hair moved gently in a supernatural wind.

“Hear me, O threads of connections, weave your protective embrace around my pupil.”

As the words left his mouth, the petals gently plucked themselves off the stem and quietly surrounded the now on edge Marley. She swiped and tossed the petals away from her but her efforts were in vain as she was buried in a pile of flower petals. After much fighting, she finally was able to see as she dug herself out. There she stood, dressed in a makeshift strapless ball gown made entirely of rose petals as a final petal found itself on her head. While Marley gave an audible groan, Luke and Simeon looked on with surprise and wonder.

“Wow, Solomon, I didn’t know you could make clothes from flowers with your magic.”

“Actually, this spell was made with Asmo’s help. He went through a phase when he wanted to dress in flower petals but the minute he got hives, he wanted nothing to do with the idea. Either way, what do you think Marley? Does it suit your taste?”

Marley folded her arms.

“Yeah, if I was getting married! You think this is funny, don’t you!?”

“It’s not my fault. The spell lets the flower I use chose the shape and the fact I used a Rose of the Lady Moon, I’m assuming it has a bit of a royalty streak in it.”

“Ok, so which flower is the hoodie and shorts type?” She claimed plainly.

[harryfeatgaga]

Please this isn’t exactly enemies but like being in the same friend group as Harry and not saying a WORD the first time you guys meet because you both feel too intimidated like maybe you’re nervous and just think that he’s too good to talk to you so you don’t say anything to him and carry on with your night. And then the next time you’re all getting together he asks his friend if you’re going to be there and they’re confused and like “didn’t like them that much?” And he’s not knowing how to answer because he’s not sure what he thinks if you and he’s mad at the fact he doesn’t know you more. And you’re thinking the same exact thing like omg what if he’s there. So that night he would be in the perfect spot to go say hello and you introduce yourself clearly nervous and for a good part of the night he’s just observing your behavior and how fun and open you are with everyone else and getting all angsty as to why he can’t get that from you? Granted you just met but he’s like damn shes cool. So you guys play this game of cat and mouse all night and he decides that the next time he’s just going to be completely upfront with you. But you surprise him by kissing him on the check to say hello and he’ll surprise you by the way he lingers his hand on your waist after your hug. And the rest of the night you don’t leave one another’s side because of this weird tension/chemistry that you’re both trying to figure out and eventually it will end with you both having a quiet moment with just the right amount of people missing for him to take you into a hallway of whoever’s house your in and you’re just staring at each other for a few seconds before you’re lips are all over one another’s and your hands are in his hair his hands in your hips having a really hot make out and he just looks at you like ..... and walks back out to the party

hOLY FUUUUUCKKKDJNFHIEKFNJKFNHJ THIS IS SO HOT BITCH FUCKIJNG HELLLLKJNFBHVJ

[danaduchy]

NPCs about Seeds

Full script of Far Cry 5 (except cutscenes)

* What were those Seed brothers like? Can't imagine there's anything like a healthy sibling rivalry going on there. * John's the baby of the Seed family. His brothers turn a blind eye to his more sadistic indulgences. * Joseph and John show why it's hard to have a family business. Money and blood mix weird. Even when you're not tryin' to be a messiah.   * When you escaped the bunker... John didn't say it... but you could see it in his face. Failure. Things got worse from there... Like he was trying to make up for something. Prove to his brother he could... * Kim and I used to throw these weekend BBs. Open invite. All you had to do was bring something. If you can believe it, the whole Seed family came once. They brang watery mac and cheese. I shoulda knew they were monsters when they did that. * John's on edge 'cause his brother-Father is getting' cranky. What a fucked up sibling relationship those two got. * Maybe John will go crying to his "father". I wanna see Joseph give John a spanking. * Joseph's pissed the hell off. I hear John's sweating like a piggy. * Word's out - Joseph's had it with John. That little punk is backed into a corner now. * Good thing for us John and Jacob haven't sorted out their brotherly nonsense. I mean if we're lucky, they'll just take each other down. If not, well, I'm going to keep some grenades around with John's name on 'em, eh? It's comin' to a head man.     * Says somethin' that Joseph didn't save his brother. Family really doesn't mean shit to these people. * Wonder what Daddy Seed is feelin' right now. Oh. Shit. What if he WANTED John dead? Fuck man, I can't think about the big game. We did it here. We kicked ass. That's gotta matter. Okay that’s what I'm telling myself.  Yeah, that’s it. * I'm just sayin': If I was Joseph and I had the ability to see into future occurrences, I woulda warned my boy John that he was gon' get murdered... and made some good bets. * I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Joseph tries to spin John's death to his own advantage. * John Seed never had the Father's full confidence, what I heard. But the Joseph loves little sister Faith, and gave her everything her twisted heart desired. * Jacob always tried to look out for his little brother. Imagine what he's gonna do when he finds out you killed him.

* John was always the runt of the Seed family. I'm not surprised that you were able to get him. But I gotta warn you, Jacob's a whole lot meaner than his little brother. * Joseph adopted Faith into their family. She's going to be madder'n a wet hen that you killed her brother John. * John liked to throw his weight around, tryin' to prove how strong he was. Jacob knows he's strong. His actions are more controlled, and he's a lot scarier for it. John was always super emotional, but Jacob's buttons won't be so easy to push. * All this could have been avoided if only a mid-level cable channel gave the Seed family the reality show they deserved. * You know, if any of these Seeds ran for office, they'd win in a landslide. Mind control charisma just oozes off of them. * Come to think of it, the Seeds work just like a political office. You got Joseph, the mayor, and John, Jacob and Faith as his city councilors. It's no wonder they forced me and my people out of office - they already knew how to play the game! * Each of the Seeds has their own bunker. They call them “Gates”. * Know how I sniffed out Eden's Gate's bullshit early on?  Only the Seeds were allowed to be angry, everybody else had to be calm--even though we all had our asses in that church because we were mad at the same shit too. But now everybody gets to be angry, 'cause it's a weapon pointin' where the Seeds want it. Protect the project. Transparent motherfuckers.

John

Resistance

* John's always been obsessed with the people in Fall's End. And with Mary May in particular. * Deep down, I think John wants to die. That man has scars that run deep. * John's got a particular ritual he sticks to. You get marked with a video, then you get dunked in the water. When John wants you found, he doesn't stop. Ever. * Nowadays, if you're caught huntin’, John Seed'll have ya' killed. * John's got people getting baptized all across the valley. In rivers, creeks, hell, even in puddles. * John scrawls a fucking tattoo on your chest, then flays you the fuck alive. He nails it to a wall. * If the peggies wanted a heap of food, why didn't they drive a ways to the wholesale club and take that over? Everythin' would be canned and ready for them instead of still in the ground. You can tell John Seed never had to raise a kid.   * The cult takes people and then sorts out where they go. Whoever John doesn't keep, he sends to Jacob. Or Faith. * John really puts the dick in dictator. The fucker just loves calling and leaving answering machine messages, too. * John's always wearing a key around his neck. He calls it the key to paradise. I don't wanna know what it unlocks. * I'm pretty sure the family that used to own this farm is long gone. John Seed made an offer. They refused. That's that. * This fertilizer company was bought by John Seed a long time ago. They ran it as a legit business. * This one guy, Les Doverspike. House is northwest. He thought he could prepare for everything... Din't count on... JOHN SEED'S LAWYERING SUPER POWERS! In the blink of an eye, Eden's Gate owned Les' land, bunker, arm, leg, dingleberries, ....EVERYTHING! * I've heard some pretty brutal stories about what happens when John wants you to confess. * The peggies had to have planned all this way ahead of time - they're harvestin' at record speed. I guess they had little meetings... John probably hunkered over his map gettin' a hard-on for the sound of his own voice. Hm... now there's a thought... * The thing that always bugs me about John Seed is, who goes to a lawyer that’s tatted up more than a gangbanger? * You're attractin' a lot of attention, especially from John Seed. John's paying special attention to you. * John wants you real bad. Have you considered maybe he's in some kinda love with you? He oughta killed you like two or three times already but he's playin' cat and mouse. Just sayin', if you find yourself alone with him maybe a good long somethin-or-other could save our necks. * Man, that John, he sure does have a hard on for you. So I'm thinking, you guys should probably just fuck and uh get it over with. * I bet you John gives the best spankin's. Sorry I know that's messed up. What can I say, he brings it outta me. I'm just sayin' maybe we don't kill John is all. Seems a waste of a perfectly good set of buns. * Before you, John never lost his cool. You're driving John literally crazy. * I drank with Joey Hudson back in the day. She doesn't take shit from anyone. John's gonna eat her alive. * I know how these things go, man. Deputy, you better keep skeleton keys and wire cutters and a swiss army knife and anythin' that'll get you outta a hogtie on you at all times, because John is gonna truss you up like a dinner turkey real soon. * Always thought there was somethin' kinda twisted about John. * John the Baptist is an amoral predator, end of story. * John Seed's not gettin' what he wants, so he's pitchin' a fit. * Keep an ear out for John's fucken' plane. He loves buzzin' around in that hunk of shit. * I've known men like John Seed before. Real charismatic. They'll sell ya poison and convince ya it's a health tonic. He'd fit in real nice in Washington... * I had one conversation with John Seed and I knew! I knew... He masks his words as guidance, but deep down there is a selfishness that could only come from pure evil. * John Seed's a piece of shit. When news spread that I was expecting, that scumbag spread rumors that HE was the biological father of my baby. I don't know if he was trying to create a wedge between me and Nick or if he was just doing it to laugh at us. * I hear John Seed was a lawyer or something. Used the rules to buy up stuff in the Holland Valley. The cult must have been running damage control already, because think of what a story that'd make. Unless we're already all tapped out of giving a fuck about the shitty economy and its parasites. Huh. Yeah. He's same old, actually. Same fucking old. * I remember the first time John Seed set foot in this bar. I'm wiping down counters and Ma's countin' the till when I hear her bark, 'What the fuck do you want?' I look up and he's standin' in the doorway. Eyein' me like I'm a meal. Some people 'round here said give the Seed's a chance. I knew they were bad news from the start. * Eden's Gate took this town right from under us. They started buying up all the land, forcing business to shut down and foreclosing on homes.... My parents and me fought back, but John wanted this bar. Told 'em he'd have to pry it from our cold dead hands. So, the cult paid off the county and made it illegal to transport alcohol. We fought back with lawyers, but those leeches bled us dry, too. * Whenever there's a neighbor in need, everybody around here pitches in. A couple days after we told some people I was pregnant, we got all this secondhand baby shit from everybody. John Seed stole all of it the next day. * Heard Pastor Jerome had you saving people from being kidnapped. John Seed did that to me. The fucker made me think he was going to torture me, too. Had me wait in a room for half a day thinking he was going to do it. All that fucker did was give me one of those ink jobs. It was messed up. * John Seed is just a man. He seeks glory and riches. He immersed himself in a sea of self-aggrandizement. He pounds pulpits. He professes principals he neither believes nor practices. He stokes fear. But he is just a man. * Before you came along, John Seed kidnapped me. He has his way of getting a person to say things. It's not about my words. It's about what's in his head. When he was done, I was beaten, toed in the woods, and left to die. * A long time ago, in peaceful times, I asked John Seed what was driving him. He gave me so many answers. All of them lies. * John Seed is a cruel soul who can't be reasoned with. He enjoys making people suffer. * John and the Peggies are taking everything and everyone that ain't nailed down. Even then they just come with crowbars. * After you're marked for baptism and dunked in the fucking river, John drags you to his bunker. God save us from whatever he does in there. * There must be a reason John almost drowns people in the baptisms. It's a power play but there's more to it. * If John really wanted to, he could wipe Fall's End off the map. He's toying with the people there, like a sadistic cat. * John's got a singular mind. Dug up from a serial killer's grave, but still, singular. * There's something really wrong with John. I don't have a name for it but you can see it in that creepy smile of his. * When I first saw him on the cult's videos, John seemed pretty harmless. But when I met him in person, he made the hairs on my neck stand up. * John bought up all the businesses 'round here and promised us jobs but the only people who got work were cultists. * When John asks you for somethin', he's not really askin'. He'll get what he wants from you one way or another. * John wants us all to say yes, but I think he actually really likes it when they say no. Gives him an excuse to get mean. * Anyone who doesn't confess to John gets killed and put on display as a warning to others. It's inhuman. * John doesn't just mark people with a sin, but their houses too. You can see his calling cards all over the valley. * I got a package from John Seed the other day. // What was inside it? // A note that said I was favored and that if I admitted to my sin, I'd be cleansed. * What does John Seed do exactly...? // He messes with your head. Asks you questions. Makes you say shit you don't want to be saying. I... I really don't want to talk about it. * John was right, we all do have one sin that tends to run our life. In a weird way maybe he did give us a second chance. * My old house was a piece of shit. It would creak at night, so bad I thought for sure some boogie man was coming to get me every night growing up. // Heh, aw, that's cute. // Yeah. John gutted and burned it to a crisp last week. * Okay, I need to lighten the mood. This is unbearable. // Oh Lord. // John Seed is so uptight, he takes a ruler to bed to see how long he sleeps. // I'm not in the mood. // John Seed is so uptight, he fell down a coal shaft and found a diamond in his ass a week later. // Okay that's pretty good. * You seen that John guy? Most aggressive grin I ever seen on a human being. Like a chimpanzee before it bites ya. // God what a creep. // I hate to think what kinda life he's come from. // Who gives a shit? He's evil. // What makes a guy that evil though? // It doesn't matter. There are loads of people out there with troubled pasts but they manage not to run an apocalypse murder cult. * Not like John was the peak of sanity before, but he's going straight up coo-coo bananas with all you're doin'. * Sounds like Broseph's mad! Ouuuu, family probs! John's like that little brother who gets held down and farted on, and then curls into a ball and cries. * One thing about John -- the more you ruffle his feathers, the angrier he gets. He can't deal with embarrassment; being made to look bad. He'll start sending out search parties to grab people like us, so we gotta stay frosty. * John's lustin' for a dogfight with you, huh. I bet that kid jerked it to Top Gun or something and now it's the only way he can get a stiffie, is in a dogfight. If you have to kick the bucket I hope that's one of your last thoughts, its a good one. * John's playin' a strange game with you. Dunno what's worse, that sometimes he seems to want you dead, or sometimes he seems to want you alive. * John's no better than his brother's dog, and we all know what needs doin' to a mad dog. * John's huntin' you like an animal.  He catches you, you're probably gonna join his other trophies on his wall. * Hey dep, I just wanna say I'm sorry, I heard John's got a partner of yours It's gotta be scary, you know. Probably heard about how John cuts people up and knows all these pressure points and can make you feel pain beyond anything you ever imagined. Anyways don't think about that. I'm sure... I'm sure she's fine. She'll be alright. * Was John dead behind the eyes when you met him? It's not my imagination, there's no soul back there. * I heard there's no spare key for the bunker prison. Just one for John. Control freak. * John Seed, what a fuckin' self-absorbed dick, huh? You just KNOW he jerks off in the mirror, and marvels at his fuckin' facial expressions. * That's John Seed's Ranch. I heard he loved hiding in that castle of his. * John had this place built just for him. Even got a hangar for his fucken' planes. * Look at this place. John's got the worst case of younger sibling syndrome I ever seen. * John's such a neat freak, it's inhuman. * Ugh. John Seed's temple to himself. Fucker's got a tennis court. I ain't never seen anybody play. Just another way he's a hypocrite. * I know everyone's got a bunker out here, but John's is ridiculous. * John's taste in home decor is... awful. * John's been stealin' the planes from all over the Valley. He keeps the best ones at the airstrip next to his ranch. * Of all the Seeds, I think I understood John the least. Inferiority complex, maybe? But he was a lawyer, he could have gone out and, I don't know, been a Wall Street megalomaniac. I guess economic murder isn't as satisfying as direct murder. * John made tattoos look real bad man, I'm glad he's six feet under. You gotta respect the ink. He didn't even learn a proper letterin' or font techniques or nothing, man. No way I'd have even trusted him to touch up my tramp stamp. * With John gone, Jacob will have a harder time building up his army. But he's already got a strong force at the ready.

Peggies

* John Seed's a funny guy. But not 'ha-ha' funny. * Dang, John's bunker is so luxurious. There's parts of this bunker that only John can access. * Deputy Hudson is one of John's "special projects". Every time John leaves here, he's got a big smile on his face. * John's got the only key to the deeper parts of the bunker. We really oughtta make a copy of John's key. What if he loses it? * John knows the human heart. He's been through a lot. It's why I trust him. * I wonder if John's place will survive the Collapse? * I could get in trouble for saying this, but it smells funny in John's house. * Haven't seen John here in a long time. He's super busy. * I knew John loved planes, but I didn't know he also loved boats. I bet John's boat costs more than my old house. * I've never seen Brother John on a boat, but I know he likes to get wet. * You think John fishes? * We need to keep this place tidy. You know how John gets with his baptisms. * Bet we're guardin' John's unreleased films. * I hope Brother John takes me for a plane ride someday. * John keeps all of his favorite things stashed in the hangar. * John wants the word Yes plastered all over this place. Gotta attract new brothers and sisters. * Taking this scrap metal is good forward thinking. John's left nothing to chance. He's a smart man. * Bet John'll be a king after the collapse. * If you're marked, John believes you can be saved. I didn't want to admit my sin at first, but John showed me how to accept it gracefully. * Feels weird turning those people into Angels. I mean, they worked in the store here with us. They cooperated. // Sure, they cooperated. But they were still sinners. There's no going back at a certain point, you know? John said that this was the only way to save them. * I know it's John's will, but...I don't like killing dogs. * John's made catchin' that deputy our top priority. Wonder why John wants the deputy alive. * That deputy's fixin' to get taken into John's special room. * John's relentless, that deputy don't stand a chance. * John's gettin' awful mad. I pity anyone who has to deal with him face to face. * I don't know what's goin' on in John's head, but it's embarrassing. * I thought John had control of things, but lately it feels like he's got no idea what he's doin'. * John's got that look in his eye, I almost feel bad for the people of Fall's End. * John will make everyone atone, even if it kills him. * John was right, they never saw us comin'. * John's so smart. Burnin' what we can't take, so people know they need us, spirit and body. * Last I heard from John, he was real angry. Never knew he had that amount of righteous wrath in him. * Pray you never see John lose his cool. // He never does. // He has though. Some sinner a while back had words with 'im. I couldn't hear exactly, but I heard 'em say the Father's name - I never seen John go so red so fast. // What'd he do? // Well he gets in his plane and wipes the sinner's property off the goddamned map. He rains fire on'em. They're scurryin' everywhere, screamin'. Like a magnifying glass on an anthill. * The Seeds lost a good brother in John. * Maybe John wasn't part of the plan? Maybe this is still what the voice told Joseph? * John's faith wavered, but mine's never been stronger. * I'll miss John's pep talks. * John did so much for the project. He can never be replaced. * John proved his devotion in blood. How can we do any less? * John was always larger than life, it felt like he was immortal.

Joseph

Resistance

* Joseph doesn't like it when his family goes off-book. * I know this is an unpopular opinion, but what if Joseph's right about the end of the world? * That's the first place Joseph ever built. Back when they pretended to be good. Joseph used to preach here. We could have saved us some trouble if we had just set fire to it years ago. * Joseph Seed and his whole family are like the politicians who ran this country into the ground. They sell ya hope and change and all these people buy into it thinking it's gonna be different this time. It ain't. Might as well be buyin' magic beans. * These people in Eden's Gate have been led astray. Joseph Seed claims he loves everyone. Wants them to know the truth.  The truth is he preaches vengeance and sows lies. But the words of an evil man ring louder in the minds of the weak... * You know what really gets me? Cult leaders are usually always in it for the money. Just like a pyramid scheme. Joseph ain't like that. I keep tryin' to break this guy down into what he wants from people. If it ain't money, and it ain't sex, what the hell is it? * Joseph's a charismatic son of a bitch. I mean, you've heard him. The pitch. The tempo. The way the words roll off his gentle lips. His mannerisms. I mean he's been speech trained, probably more than any politician I've ever seen. That's how you know he's a government guy. * I know the people of this valley. They're good, hard workin' people. But in bad times, people get scared, start lookin' for someone to blame. Joseph Seed fed on that fear. Told folk the end of the world was coming. Lot of 'em believed him. Truth be told... way things are now? I sometimes wonder if he's right. Folks felt abandoned, grew weary, they needed our help. And we didn't listen, but Joseph Seed did. Joseph Seed wooed people. He told them EXACTLY what they wanted to hear. With those falsehoods, lies, his poison. It's driven a lot of good folks away from the righteous path. * I knew Joseph Seed was bad business when he wormed his way in here a few years back. I imagine the fucking mainstream media would paint us as two sides of the same coin, because they're either lazy or corrupt or both... But to me, it's simple: I'm willing to sacrifice everything for my family, while Joseph Seed wants to burn down the world for his. * Y'know, I had a dream last night that involved me, a bed, whips and chains, and Joseph Seed. Suffice to say there were a lot of conflicting emotions and sensations... * Did you have a vision? Faith dosed me with bliss, and I saw the Father come to me, personally, and tell me terrible things. * I have a lot of pity for Faith. Joseph is the true monster, manipulating that young woman into a weapon. * Who the heck is Faith, y'know? Joseph treats her both like his daughter and his sister. How much does she know? How influential is she? It's all twisted together. * I wonder how many other secret bunkers there are in the county? Joseph procured a whole missile silo and no one saw! * Faith came to Hope County to detox. Like tourism of hillbilly country for rehab. But Joseph took a shine to her and she was reborn. Hell, her real name ain't even Faith, but something rich, like Riley or Rachel. * Joseph believes in Faith. He's entrusted her with all manner of heinous activity out here. We need to take her out. * I can't see what kind of method to the madness Eden's Gate has goin' on. Three heralds of the Collapse? What are they even doin'? // They got a system. Faith sows, John reaps, Jacob... // Steps on your neck? // Deals in belief, I guess. // Nah, that's Joseph's job. He's the charismatic populist motherfucker. Jacob just wants to cull people. * Joseph's just a nobody from nowhere. How'd he get this many people behind him? * There was a time no western religious leader would be caught dead with a goddamned man-bun. Fuck I miss those days. Listen, I get that he's runnin' this big old cult and all but if you're gonna run a big old cult you gotta look the part! Long robe that's a weird color, like puce or something, stringy moustache, head shaved bald like a baby. Not like some kind of lovechild between a hipster and a country singer. * Joseph Seed's family is gone. He's gonna be vulnerable and running on emotion. He won't be thinkin' straight. If we're putting this to a vote, I'd say we close this chapter for good, as soon as possible.

Peggies

* The father's takin' a personal interest in those deputies now... Maybe his visions told him somethin'.   * Joseph said that deputy is special. I wonder what he meant by that. * Despite everything they've done to us, I know Joseph would still forgive them. * We have to love the sinners. It's what Joseph would want. * It's been too long since I've seen our Father's face. * Joseph is a gifted songwriter. You haven't lived until you've heard Joseph sing this live. * I heard that the Father got the idea for the Judges in a vision. * Jacob might teach us to shoot, but Joseph guides our aim. * President Seed has a nice ring to it. Wonder if Joseph has political aspirations? * I see why Joseph liked this county. Plenty of silos for what we need to store. * Everyone knows Joseph will not tolerate idle hands.   * The Father keeps all the best stuff for his Chosen. Leaves us the scraps. * After the collapse, we won't hear the Father on the radio anymore. * Joseph's disappointed in us, I can tell. We gotta do better. * I hope the Father doesn't take this out on us. * I can't imagine how Joseph feels now, with his brother gone.   * With Jacob gone the Father has to have a backup plan for us. He has to. * Our Father was supposed to save us. Joseph wouldn't ever abandon us, would he? * Joseph will know what to do. I just have to find out where he's hidin'.

Jacob

Resistance

* We're in Jacob's territory now. Know how I know? Wildlife is scarce. I'm not one for hunting but this area in particular used to be home to quite a few species. They've either been driven away or taken in for experiments. It's sad. * Jacob Seed's in charge out here. He's ex-military, he's a combat veteran, and he's a psycho. * Faith was Joseph's favorite, but Jacob is his toughest soldier, bar none. * Jacob's got this Chair. He straps people in and breaks them down until their souls are gone. Then he controls their mind. Don't end up in that chair. * I know Jacob's the bad guy and all, but every bad guy thinks they're this misunderstood hero, right? Has anyone ever tried to just, you know, take him for coffee and talk to him? * Strippin' people of their mind and freewill to build an army for The Father, that ain't right. I still can't believe Jacob and Joseph are brothers. * The mind is the most dangerous weapon and Jacob knows that all too well. No one was really prepared for this. * I've seen him up close once and I'll tell ya' Jacob Seed is one scary motherfucker. * Jacob had one thing right. Things are only goin' to get worse and you gotta be ready for it. * I had a dream once that Jacob took me on a hunt. We shot some deer and he asked me to skin them. As I was cutting them open they changed... it wasn't deer. I... I don't think it was a dream. * Whatever you do, don't listen to the music. That's how Jacob gets you. * One of the first places Jacob took over is the old Veteran's Hospital. No one thought much of it at the time. * Careful. Jacob likes to play mind games with ya. * This was an animal sanctuary until Jacob took it over. Looks like he's got some freaky deaky shit goin' on. Jake-n-Bake Seed really had his fingers up in everything up here. * Jacob's completely insane. He's not even trying to hide what he's doing anymore. * Heard that Jacob has been doin' some weird stuff with animals over here... and not just wolves this time. * Jacob's been putting people in cages. Keepin' them there with no food or water for weeks!  Almost better if they just killed you. * Eli worked on Jacob's special bunkers, did you know that? Turns out they didn't get along. Who would've thought? * No one is immune to Jacob's fucked up conversion. Once they hit you with that you ain't ever the same. * Jacob, he's knows everything that I'm thinking. He's got the key to my mind and he twists... and twists... and twists. * Jacob... his experiments... he takes us... owns us, speaks to us. He hears us. Jacob... he's in control. He controls everything. * Jacob knows how to get into your head. Twists things around so you don't know what's right anymore. * If Jacob can't find a use for you in his army, you become target practice for troops. * Be careful out there. Friends might not be friends anymore after Jacob's done with them. * I bet the Peggies got an armory here, too. I can't believe how Jacob got them so organized. * Jacob's using everything he learned in the military and twisting it to suit the needs of Eden's Gate. Son of a bitch is a poor excuse for a soldier if you ask me. As long as he's alive my Pops will be rolling in his grave, all bitter and mad. * Have to say, you've ticked Jacob off something fierce. * You wanna bet that Jacob had that three-wolf moon poster as a kid? I bet he was a cub scout, too. Now he's getting his badge for people-skinning and brainwashing. * I'm seeing a lot more choppers in the air. Looks like Jacob's using them to move troops and supplies. * You know, I was dumb enough to work for Jacob a few years back. Who you think built him all those Peggie bunkers? You think I saw any of this comin'? Hell no... * Jacob's new recruits gotta kill someone they care about, just to prove their loyalty. That's messed up on so many levels. * Jacob will be pied that you and the Cougars freed the Henbane River. He'll need a new source of soldiers. * Jacob sees himself as beyond the other so-called Heralds. He views his work as the most important, and that the others' purpose was to support him. * Jacob will break every bone in your body to convert you. He lives for pain. * Jacob would happily sacrifice everyone and everything in Hope County to feed Joseph's Collapse. He doesn't care about Faith. * Between John, Faith, and Jacob, I'd say our mind control freak is the worst. He makes people kill their own family. His own mind's twisted. He's a damn maniac. * I hear Jacob's looking everywhere for you. * You gotta save us from all this darkness. All this death. Jacob's losing it and he's out hunting down more people. He's gonna do anything for Joseph's plan to work. * Cult's got the wrong idea 'bout sacrifices. My neighbor killed his old man 'cause Jacob said so. For fuck's sake, you don't do that. * Jacob's gone nuts 'cause he lost a lot of his precious, mindless soldiers. I'd say it sucks even more to see our own teammates turned against us. * Jacob's pissed. That's new. He's always been the crazy type, but I'm afraid of what he'll come up with next. Stay sharp. * Using music to control people is so in bad taste, but Jacob's song pick, that's gotta say something about him. * How much do we know about this Jacob fella? He seems strong. Got a good setup going on... We ought to take some photographs of him or somethin'. Preferably shirtless... Y'know, for intelligence purposes. Know your enemy. * If Jacob he had an experienced woman in his life, this shit would not be happenin'. I'll take one for the team if it comes to that. Just don't tell Xander I said that. He'll get jealous. * I knew Jacob was trouble as soon as he showed up. I mean, did you see his face? It's all burned and twisted like his heart. * Jacob's got training grounds all over the place. I've seen them out there, shooting anything that moves. * I can almost understand why people follow Jacob. He's knows what he's doin', that's for sure. Mind you he's also a fucken' psychopath kind of a deal breaker for me. * Honestly, Jacob scares the shit outta me, even more than the Father. I've seen Jacob up close, I've looked him in the eyes they're empty, not a single shred of humanity anywhere. * Jacob's one sick fuck. Nailing up bodies? Burning people alive? That's just messed up. * You know what? I think Jacob's scared of Eli. That's why he's tried so hard to get him. * Jacob must be getting desperate and crazy. More troops out here than ever. * Jacob's plan worked. I tried to warn them. I told them not to go back. Jacob's going to win. He always wins. * Jacob was the big, mean, brute of the Seed clan. * Jacob was an example of how a vet can go bad without any help. Still glad he's dead of course.

Peggies

* Hope Jacob doesn't have another surprise inspection. Last one didn't go so hot. * Jacob asks for sacrifices from us all.  I gave up my son just so I could understand the Father's pain. * Jacob can turn these animals into weapons for the Father, I've seen him do it. * Jacob calls those wolves of his Judges, 'cause that's what they do. If you're not worthy, they tear you to shreds. * Jacob takes us, molds us and lifts us up to realize our potential. Just like this Judge. Once, it was just a simple wolf. Then it heard the voice of the Father. Now look at it. Stronger, faster... a killer. That's what Jacob does, he makes us better than we were, because only the very best of us will pass through Eden's Gate and on to salvation. * Jacob has asked us to find more recruits for the Project. We have to make them see the light... by force if necessary. * Jacob taught me how to bring a boar down will one killshot. Now I just apply the same logic to sinners. Easy. * Trust nobody, that's what Jacob told us. * Last time I was here Jacob himself complimented me on my shootin'. * Jacob will whip the strong ones into shape. The rest of 'em won't survive training. Jacob sure puts you through your paces here. It's how he makes us strong. * Jacob only wants the strongest of any creature. * Some of the converts have a hard time losing their old notions, but Jacob has a way of getting them to see the light. * If you've ever been in Jacob's presence you know just how powerful he really is. * There is no way anyone would dare stand up to Jacob. They'd be dead in a second. * Jacob's got this county locked down. There's no way they're gonna take him out. * Jacob knows what he's doin'. If he says he's got this bastard covered, I believe him. You know Jacob. He's not gonna give up. * I hear Jacob is furious. We have to try harder. We can't fail the Father. * Jacob's not dead. There's no way. He's too strong to die. * The sacrifice of Jacob must be part of the Father's great plan; we must trust in him. * The guy who killed Jacob. He fucken' cheated. You know Jacob. There's no way he would've lost in a straight up fight. Can't do anything for Jacob, but we can make sure Pratt pays for letting that bastard get away. * Do you think this the father knew about all this? // Of course. It's all part of his plan. // Even losing Jacob? // Do you doubt the Father's visions? // No! Of course not.... it's just... the guys... they have questions.... // Questions? Now's not the time for questions! It's time for action! Do you want to die a sinner? // No! Or course not! // Then get back to your post. The Father needs us now, more than ever! * So what the hell are we going to do now? // What do you mean? // What do I mean? Jacob's dead! That's a pretty big deal, if you ask me. // We still have the Father. It's his plan after all. // Sure, but he had Jacob and the others to help. He can't do it all himself. // That's why we're here. We have to step up, do whatever is asked of us. We can't give up, not now. // Yeah, you're right. Especially with what's coming. // Exactly. Get back to your post, this isn't over yet.

Pratt

* Jacob's caught himself a Deputy. I think it's Pratt. Poor bastard, he's not gonna last a day in there. * Deputy Pratt always came off as a bit of a douchebag, but that doesn't mean he deserves what Jacob's doin' to him. * I'd sure hate to be that Deputy Pratt right now. Jacob's gonna rip him to pieces. He tried to arrest his brother for God sake. * Pratt's days are numbered. One of these days Jacob's gonna have him nailed up on some billboard or something just like the others. * I keep thinking about Pratt, and what Jacob's doin' to him. That poor man's brain's gonna be totally fucked. * Can only imagine what it's like to be left in a cage with nothing to eat for days. God, do you think that's what they're doing to that Deputy of yours? Poor bastard. * I don't think that Deputy's gonna live much longer. I hear Jacob's furious and you can be sure who he's gonna take it out on. * Next time you meet your friend Pratt, be careful. Jacob does things... to your mind... he might not be the same person you remember. Don't say I didn't warn you. * Can you fuckin' believe that guy? // Who? // The Deputy. Pratt. He was wanderin' around behind the cages. // What the fuck was he doin' there? // Who the hell knows. Jacob's probably got him off doing some shit. // Yeah, he's lucky to be able to put two words together after what Jacob did to him! // Seriously. Sometimes I think it's a mistake to put too much trust in these converts. You should come willing to the light, or be struck down. * I.. I was told to feed the Judges but I didn't know where their food was. // Jesus, Pratt. Does nothing stick in that brain of yours? Over there, where it's always kept. // Right! Th..thanks Phil! It won't happen again! // It better not. * I just want go out and hunt down the bastard that killed Jacob and beat them to death.//Don't worry. They'll be here soon enough. We've got their buddy Pratt down here. Pretty sure we're next on the list.//Aren't you worried? They were strong enough to take on Jacob...// Fuck 'em. With the number of guards we got here? They'd be crazy to try to take us on. * Good thing Pratt's out man. He was lookin' like a hipster in a bullfight man. * There's not much of the old Deputy Pratt left, Jacob made sure of that. Almost would've been better that he'd died in there.       * Yeah, the Deputy might be free, but I won't say he's okay. No one is okay after they've been through the trials. No one. * Jacob sure did a number on Pratt. Not sure there's much of him left in there. * It's gonna take a while for Deputy Pratt to recover from this... if he ever does.

[thatesqcrush]

Ingénue

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Oh come on my wonderful readers... you didn’t think Bryan was one and done right? This is dedicated to @madpanda75​ who told me she needed a money shot Kneef fic and the lovelies of the discord chat I am in, who encourage the most salacious shit... the pillow is all you heathens. C/W: Blow-job! So much penis talk. Cum. This fills the money shot square in my K!nktober challenge (of course I have to participate too!).

WC: 1668. 

Note: This is a one-off piece, which takes place between chapters 5 & 6 of Fall From Grace. I start off with the ending of ch. 5 just as a refresher, intro. 

--

S/O again to @prurientpuddlejumper​ - Kneef is such a cranky asshole. Thanks for the gifs!

--

You rapped your fingers in annoyance as the presentation wore on. Between the monotonous drone of the associate and the dimmed lights, you were headed to snoozeville.

“If you can turn to slide 35, you can see that the Firm billables have increased substantially…”

You opened your interoffice messenger. You looked around the board room. Everyone was too busy listening to your colleague’s ramblings.

[YN]: Rescue me.

To your delight, Bryan responded rather quickly.

[BK]: Bored are we?

[Y/N]: Yes.

[BK]: That’s a shame. I’m busy in a meeting with Diane. You know this is a STR computer. People are probably monitoring.

You rolled your eyes at Bryan throwing your prior words back at you.

[YN]: And seeing what I have to say to you would be the most exciting thing to happen in their mundane lives.

‘Ha!’ you thought victoriously, using Bryan’s own words back at him as well.

There was no response from Bryan. After a minute or two passed, you felt something in your guts twist. You were about to give your attention back to the boring presentation when one of the STR Laurie gatekeeper’s rapped on the glass door.

“Ms. Y/L/N – Mr. Kneef would like to see you. Immediately.”

The group of your colleagues let out a low whistle, as if you were in trouble with the teacher.

You bit your cheek from smiling. If they only knew.

--

“This way.”

You followed the blonde gatekeeper up the spiral staircase to Bryan’s office. Your heart pounded in your chest and your nerves were already tingling in anticipation. Tiny explosions emanated from each synapse.

As you walked down the long hallway, it occurred to you that you had never been in Bryan’s actual office. The many encounters you had, he had always come to visit you. In a weird way you felt this was a huge step – to be allowed into his personal space.

Finally, you approached his office and you entered. To your surprise, the room was empty. You were instructed to take a seat at his desk and as you did so, you took in the room décor. Bryan’s office was a massive corner office with floor to ceiling windows offering an expansive view of Lake Michigan. The walls were painted a dark charcoal and included a built-in bookcase that was filled to the brim. A rolling wood step ladder accompanied it. In the middle was a glass coffee table flanked by a black leather couch and two matching armchairs. Two Appropriately so, there was an iron bar cart with an ice bucket, various alcoholic bottles and glasses hanging in storage.

There was a sound of a toilet flushing and then a sink being turned. You realized Bryan had a bathroom in his office.

“Ms. Y/L/N, thank you for coming.” Bryan greeted you, before turning to the gatekeeper. “You can go now.” He waved his hand dismissively and the gatekeeper dropped their head, nodding before closing the door with a click.

Bryan sat down and kicked his legs up on his desk, crossing them at the ankles.

“How was your meeting with Diane?” You asked.

“Not important.” Bryan replied. “I called you because you had said you were bored.”

“I was.” You replied. “Nothing like hearing about firm billables to really jazz up one’s day. It was titillating.” You rolled your eyes as you stood. Bryan raked in your outfit – a tight sweater which showed off the swells of your tits and cigarette-style pants. Completing your outfit was a pair of patent leather pumps and a bold red lip. You came around and hopped onto the corner of the desk carefully, making sure to not disturb the items on the desk.

Bryan leaned past you and hit the page button on his phone. “This is Kneef. Hold my calls, no interruptions. Working through lunch with Ms. Y/L/N on the Higgins case.”

“Will do sir.” The voice on the other side complied.

“Oh, sir.” You teased.

Bryan’s eyes flashed with heat and you leaned back, a half-smirk gracing your face. “Do you like that? Being called sir?”

Bryan didn’t reply as another flash of heat coursed through. “Take off your sweater.” His voice was dark and gravelly as it dropped an octave. “Show me those tits.”

“Yes, sir.” You replied, batting your eyes coquettishly. You gripped the hem of your sweater and pulled it off. Bryan groaned at the sight of you in a simple cotton bra. While he loved you in dainty lingerie that left little to the imagination, there was something erotically charged about you in something so… virginal. You reached around to undo your bra clasp to free your breasts from their encasement when Bryan held a finger at you, pausing you. He walked over to an arm chair and took one of the oversized pillows. He threw himself back into his chair and tossed the pillow in front of his legs. “On your knees.”

You knew exactly what he was getting at and sunk down to your knees getting a close-up of a truly impressive cock creating an outline against his expensive suit. You rubbed him through the materials of his pants, feeling his cock grow even harder under your palm. You made move to undo the belt, button, and zipper. You rubbed the head of his cock first, and then ran your fingers down the cloth-covered shaft. You reached in and pulled out his cock, which was angrily red and weeping pre-cum. You licked your lips and drew up some saliva in your mouth, before spitting into your hand. Bryan grunted and his hips jerked in response as you wrapped your manicured hand around the girth of his cock. You pumped his cock a few times before you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. The salty taste of his pre-cum flooded your mouth as your tongue swirled around the head before flicking over the tip and then underside to the frenulum.

You flattened your tongue and then took the entire length in your mouth. Bryan’s cock was thick, with a large vein down the shaft, and you could tell it was painfully hard. Bryan let out a hiss of relief as he buried his hands into your hair. “Take it all.” Bryan commands and you relax your throat so you can take his length until he hits the back of your throat.

Bryan gives your hair a tug. “There you go.” He sounds almost kind, almost caring. He watches his cock disappear in your mouth and his eyes roll back. You hum your assent and stroke your hands over his thighs before reaching to cup his balls and give a gentle squeeze. “Oh fuck yeah. Just like that.”

His praise causes excitement to flood you. Much like your panties which you are certain are ruined. You look up at his face and Bryan’s eyes meet yours. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing on his length with more gusto. “Keep doing that… uhh... don’t stop.”

You feel empowered having rendered such a powerful man helpless because of what you can do with his mouth. The seam of your pants presses tightly against you causing some friction and you wish you weren’t wearing pants so you could touch yourself.

“You look so pretty like that.” Bryan grits. “With a mouth full of my cock.” And with that, he’s fucking into your mouth in long strokes. Your eyes water and saliva pools from out of your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum!” Bryan blurts out. You brace yourself to swallow the hot liquid but instead Bryan shoves you off of him. You don’t even have time to react because he’s fisting himself rapidly – and then it happens – with a deep grunt, he shoots his load. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue as thick ropes of his seed coat your face, your tongue, and even along your neck.

You hear Bryan collapse on the chair and you finally open your eyes, thankful nothing got there. Bryan smiles like the cat who caught the canary and he strokes your hair.

“Well, I’ll be damned. That was fun.” Bryan tucks himself in and then reaches into his drawer, pulling out a kerchief. “Here, go clean up in the bathroom.”

You nod, a bit stunned and you walk over to clean up. In the bathroom, you realize you look like a mess and there was no way to clean up without washing your face. You use the expensive hand soap to work up a lather and you clean up. You fix your hair and after a few minutes you head back out.

Bryan’s on his phone, arguing with someone and your sweater is neatly folded on the corner of Bryan’s desk.

You tug the sweater back on and you wait for what was probably a minute but seemed like forever for Bryan to acknowledge you. Instead he meets you with raised brows and you nod, heading back to your office.

When you return, Marissa is there waiting. “I heard you got sent to Kneef’s office. Are you fired?”

“No, I had to help him with the Higgins case. Damn associates don’t know what they’re doing.” You lied.

“Anyway, I picked you up a latte.” Marissa replies, placing the cup on your desk. “You look like hell. I hope Bryan didn’t ride you that hard. You should put some lipstick on.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thanks for the pro-tip.” You move your mouse to wake up your computer and the message on it causes you to freeze.

[BK: Such a hard little worker with that job.]

Your phone rings and your breath hitches as you answer. “STR Laurie, Y/N speaking.”

“My little office slut. Just you wait and see what I have planned for you later.”

“Come again... sir?”

“Oh you bet your sweet little ass you will. Again and again and again.” Bryan purrs before the line disconnects. 

You look at the clock. It was half-past one. Time couldn’t move fast enough.

FIN.

 Tags: @madpanda75​ @mgarner1227​ @tropes-and-tales​ @delia26​ @beardedmccoy​ @youreverycolor​ @neely1177​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @skittle479​ @ottosuricato​ @delia26​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @mommakat32​ @dreila03​ @beccabarba​ @garturbo​ @lovebennycolon​ @imjustreallynosy​ @sweetsummertime99​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife​ @annabelleb49​​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @cesarofangirl78​ @redlipstickandplaid​ @redlipstickandblacktea​​ @zoeykaytesmom​​ @differentshadesofgray​​ @misssirenlove​​ @esparza-army​​ @bananas-pajamas​ @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie​​ @theenchantedgalleryofstories​​ @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd-blog-blog​ @pieceofshittytitty​​ @ktiz90​ @evee87​​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles​​ @rampantmuses​​ @jazzyjoi​​ @caked-crusader​​ @rachelxwayne​ @the-hopeless-haze​ @prurientpuddlejumper​

[jjkpls]

crayons ‘set’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, light angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.8k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

The principle of balance. 

It’s a curious concept. Like most of the things that turn people into different versions of themselves, just from an unconscious force brought to light by the sheer inner sense of competition that inhabits every single person. It’s quieter in some people. Feel non-existent sometimes. But it’s here, dormant, just waiting on the right trigger to awaken. 

You didn't think you would see it in Jimmy. The little boy lacks completely self-confidence and affirmation. But a voice and a stance, easily remarkable, end up fitting him.

It turns out that you witness it quite quickly after the Progress has started. And it manifests in the most adorable and comical of ways. 

It’s been a few weeks since you've met his dad. There wasn’t much to talk about with him yet. Every day, longer lingerings of the gaze, less tucking away in the far back of the rest of the group, more definite wordless participations during class -nodding and clapping along. The progress you've been wholly satisfied with but nothing so drastically different that you thought necessary to call his father in for. 

Nothing absolutely astonishing. Therefore you didn’t call and what a surprise this one Thursday afternoon turns out to be when he appears at your class’s doorway.

He’s wearing very casual clothes, a simple light linen shirt and some distended jeans to pair, sneakers and his hair -you've only seen neatly tucked to the side- is floating about his forehead, freshly washed and devoid of any wax. It’s a pleasant surprise, especially with the evident appearance of calm and quiet tranquillity he’s carrying. 

This man looks rather handsome when he’s on vacation, stressless and well-rested and seemingly content, you note.

“Mr Kim?”

He looks up from his son he is holding the hand of, eyes wide and bewildered as he stares a little. You chuckle, confused but amused. He’s the one paying you a surprise visit but he’s shocked when you do talk to him?

“Is it bad timing? I can come back another day...” From the look he’s giving you, or more accurately, barely sparing you, body already aiming for the corridor, you wonder if you should return the question. It'd be cruel though, to tease, therefore you choose to simply shake your head and insist on him walking in. And then it happens, the man can’t take a step inside, for some reason. He’s just paralysed, looking like a million contradicting thoughts are fighting inside his brain and he simply cannot make out the best option, if he would or not step in; and it’s Jimmy who takes the decision for him. Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, he pushes against his father's leg, small hands pulling the bigger one towards him. It’s like watching a tiny mouse trying to drag along a giraffe. It has little to no physical effect until there’s an aggravated tiny whine of “appa”. He moves, at last, letting himself stood in front of me before Jimmy lets go of his hand. 

He gives you a look you're not sure you interpret well. Dark eyes all serious, attention loud, he seems to be intrusting his father to you. A gentle smile, hiding your teeth biting back a hilarious grin, sends him away towards the very back of the room. Taking a seat next to the bookshelf, it takes Jimmy a few minutes only after you've diverted your attention from him to grab an image book and start going through it patiently.

He's so comfortable. Almost too comfortable. He looks strange, like that. Strange because different from usual but still, oddly, it fits him well. It's like a projection, a little vision of a future little boy, easygoing, at peace with himself and his environment, that won't take too long to be born again.

And it's now the dad who's acting weird. He's standing on his two never-ending legs, the tip of his fingers toying nervously with the button of his vest, his mouth keeps teasing, opening slightly, as if about to spill a word, only to shut itself right up, a lightly aggravated sigh following soon after. It happens quite a couple of times until you get tired of waiting. Tired of the eyes avoiding you, the tension heavy for no particular reason that you could decipher, you ring him awake with an abrupt overexaggerated clearing of your throat.

"Mr Kim?" He's confounded again, caught off guard somehow. "Did you mean to discuss something with me?" It's hard to make an adult talk, you realise. Sometimes children can be difficult. Put aside Jimmy's case, sometimes children are like that. Making them want to share, especially when they are at that age where they can't express themselves and their ideas as well as they wish they could, frustration, laziness at times can get the better of them and having a fairly constructed conversation with them is like pulling teeth out of a very adamant, unwilling person. But you manage. Adults, on the other hand, have never been too much of your cup of tea. There's a reason why you chose to spend the better part of your weeks with children instead of adults. You're not that terrible at getting along with them, you do it pretty well, honestly. But the reason is probably the fact that you're not difficult. You're convenient as a person, always willing to help, always trying to be positive, you do not get in people's way and most of the times, it's enough to make it through.

You don't deal with adults the way you deal with children. With great pleasure and passion, you insert yourself into your pupils' existence, try to leave a mark and help them have the better, feel the better, be the better. Adults, you don't get too involved. They sound complicated, complexed, too many compromises, too many facets. You know because you are one too.

And Mr Kim, looking all nervous and troubled seem the very embodiment of this bias you have. He looks some sort of troubles. Probably nothing that terrible. He appears too childish for it to be that grave. But he's serious about it, about the anxiety, the struggle, the uneasiness he's feeling, you can tell, just from the way he hasn't been able to look at you in the eyes since he appeared in your class. Still, whatever it is, will cost some of your time, and with that, might clog up some very much needed space you require in this busy head of yours.

It's happened before. A new neighbour trying to get closer to you, maybe because they've just moved in the city, didn't know anyone, and you looked friendly enough and they needed someone to listen to the exhaustive list of all the things that made them leave their hometown -even though, you don't necessarily care for any of it. Or a colleague, trying to get you involved in their office dramas, simply because people need the attention, the feeling of importance and support.

Quite frankly, you've never been interested in any of them. Adults sound like too much work, especially given the fact that, as filled with flaws as they are, they are a pain, and often impossible, to fix. And they say things they don't mean. And they want things that they don't need. Their words and their acts hardly ever match. They're for the most part unrecoverable and unfixable, and you don't want any of it.

But Mr Kim and his dimples -invisible to the eye at the moment, but that you realise marked your brain so strongly you can picture them exactly where they should be winking- are piquing your interest. You're ninety-nine per cent sure it is not about Jimmy but you'd like to know. Never mind that curiosity killed the cat.

“Yes, uh-“ Clearing of the throat, scratching of the neck and more clearing of the throat. “about last time...”

You're lost. For a second, your body freezes to give your brain its full capacity to wreck through the whole place and retrieve a memory that seems to have been lost somehow, somewhere. You have no idea what time he is referring to. 

He seems so invested, so intensely experiencing his emotions you're left shocked and deeply embarrassed to not remember something that had that effect on him yet didn’t leave a single trace on you. 

He insists then, having to face your transparent confusion. The more you stand in pure oblivion, the more awkward he gets. Stuttering more, an accent, very deep, adding rough edges to his voice, colouring his words with new shades that you've never heard before.

“Mr Kim-“

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, it’s me, I am, I’m-“ You will, later, feel terrible for it. It’s undeniable. But right now, facing this grown-ass man, usually so collected now decomposing in the most adorable red-cheeked boyish thing, you can only start laughing. It renders him speechless which in a way is almost an improvement and when you finally can restrain the giggles from bubbling straight from your belly, you start again,

“Maybe take a deep breath, take your time.” You bite your lip down to the blood, poorly concealing your grin when he actually does it. “What did you mean by ‘last time’?” You're mortified to ask, honestly, persuaded that you should know but at this point, it’s pretty mean but you don’t think you can embarrass yourself that much in front of him, not when he’s been such a mess himself. 

“When we met. When I came to talk about my son.” Calmly, diligently he answers. Like a good boy answering his teacher’s question, a shadow of worry covering his usually sharp gaze. 

“Oh, what about it?” Curiosity melts with confusion as you refrain yourself from pressing him further into elaborating faster, eager as you are to understand. You were sure he was not going to talk about him. 

“I’d been a bit much and I wanted to apologise personally to you.”

Been a bit much? 

“In what sense? I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s just- I poured myself and our luggage on you when you’re- I know you care about my son but I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have-“

You hate cutting people off. It’s a terrible habit you are constantly trying to teach your students to drop. But here he is, struggling to express an idea that irks you strongly. Is he able to put the words he needs? Does he even know them in his own mother tongue or do they even exist? Maybe what he's trying to express are pure emotions. Unease coming from a heart shameful for having shown itself vulnerable to a stranger. You'd know about this feeling. You've experienced it plenty of times, throughout all your life. Even if it wasn’t in the form of you stripping your heart off to someone, like he did, simply showing that you cared gave you the same sense of vulnerability, of terrifying exposure you've always had a hard time dealing with. 

You hate the idea that he regrets it, especially with you. At that time, you could tell he had words to pour out. You were glad, you were even enchanted to be the one helping out no matter how small you just assumed your impact to have been. And now, he's trying to say that he regrets it?

“You said you were thankful to have someone to talk to.”

“I did say that.” He mumbles, pressing the pad of his fingers against his closed eyes. 

“Then don’t regret it. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about this, seriously. I had parents do way more, actually embarrassing, things in my career. Don’t even worry about it.” He’s thinking it over. You can tell your words have little to no impact on his bruised ego. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is for me to say that but if you need it, whenever in the future, don’t hesitate. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m just- I’m willing to listen if it can help. I mean me or anyone else, really, you should in general just share. It’s important. You don’t want Jimmy to mimic such bad habits like so, holding in and all.” You may be talking too much. The man just looks so eager to hear those words and it spurs you on. “You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I can understand the feeling, where it comes from, but it’s pointless with me.”

“You’re really kind.” You give a smile, only. It’s not much but you're pretty sure it’s the genuineness tinting it that renders it enough. Again, he seems surprised. As bewildered as last time but undoubtedly convinced. “I’m glad he has you as his teacher.”

Your cheeks burn intensely. You don’t know how conscious he is of his words. If he realises that he perfected the art of flattery and of slipping people in his pocket. He really did. Especially when he’s leaning slightly towards you, gaze intense and on you now that the embarrassment has vanished for the most part and he can bear looking at you, seemingly hanging out for any other words you may have in stock.

There’s nothing left for you to say though. It takes you quite a few attempts to skim over your brain, trying to formulate a sentence, any word, but you come out completely empty. You can’t even stutter a thank you from how utterly flustered you're feeling. 

Therefore you choose the easy way out. Waltzing on your heels to give him your back, your hands reaching to the barely messy top of your desk to pretend they’re busy. You believe yourself to have been sleek enough but apparently not so -maybe it’s the fact that you're just picking up stuff to put them exactly where they belong, at the exact same place. 

“Was I inappropriate? I’m really sorry, Mrs ___. Sometimes I just talk too much and I don’t realise that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Please stop apologising. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re just- You saying nice things that you mean,” You stumble upon the last words as if maybe you're getting over your own head to just assume and claim so loud that he must mean the sweet things he said to you but that bashful yet adorable expression he's wearing, with the eyes a bit wide and the bottom lip munched, fill you with a regain of confidence, “can’t be an issue. It’s just unexpected and- I mean you’re fine you can say whatever you want. I mean I’m not asking for more compliments, I’m just saying-“

It’s terribly unnerving. You don’t know what impression you're giving off as a teacher. Lacking so much elocution, scrambling to form sentences and turning into a messy, overwhelmed emotional mess. 

“I don’t mind giving you more compliments, Mrs ___.” Here comes that curious principle of balance again. You're half-dying of mortification and he seems to be having fun, smiling kindly, with a hint of something else -amusement, maybe even smudginess. 

Is he flirting with me? There’s no way he’s flirting. I think I’m losing my mind. 

“It’s Miss, actually.” You swear to yourself, silently, that you're not flirting back -assuming he is, in fact, doing just that- and you just mean to be called by an accurate name. 

“Oh.” He almost gasps. Looking shocked and you don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Was he really not flirting? Why does he look so shaken as if you misinterpreted his intentions and now he’s misinterpreting yours and think you're getting over your head -because you're not, you were not flirting!

“I’m not flirting with you, I’m just clarifying!” 

You hate this whole conversation. You hate yourself, your life and anything and everything that may or may not have led you to this tragic instant.

You're positive you screamed a little. You get confirmation of just that from the tiny mop of hair bouncing up in your peripheral vision, as Jimmy gives you two a slightly concerned, curious look. 

The tension is blatant. It's a mixture of irritation, of anxiety, of embarrassment. You couldn't have messed up any worse than you did and you positively want to simply die, right about now.

The mere thought that you'll have to live with this humiliation not only for the whole day ahead, blatantly hanging out at the back of your head, sometimes probably too close to your consciousness for any sense of comfort to ever inhabit you again, but for your entire life makes you want to throw yourself out the window. You decide not to indulge in the pressing pulsion only because you're on the ground floor, therefore, it would be pointless if not even more humiliating.

Mr Kim, somehow, helps a little. By not wearing a mask of pure revolt, revulsion or aggravation. He stares soundly, expression not giving off much to work with. Just enough to understand he is not mad, simply lost in his own thoughts he doesn't seem too keen on sharing.

A spark of sensibility blooms suddenly in your brain. You're so thankful for it, you jump right on it, grab it with your two hands and start again, as if nothing happened, as if you haven't just humiliated yourself in front of this man (and his son), "Jimmy has made a lot of progress, I've noted."

Mr Kim blinks a few times, unnaturally so. "Yeah? I mean, yes, I've noticed too, actually." He keeps staring with the same obnoxiously loud thoughts running in his mind. His brain is on full activity mode. It's obvious. And he doesn't care too much about talking about his son right this second (even though he doesn't seem to care much about sharing what's going through that private head of his either).

How disappointing. You sincerely thought the one subject that matters the most to him would successfully tear the attention away from you but you're a fool. Apparently, even the cute little bean of a son he has can't divert the attention from the humiliation you've just submitted yourself to.

"Anyway, I won't hold any more of your time, you must have work to attend to."

"Actually I'm not working today. I have the day off." Your lip now too sensitive, you attack the inner part of your cheek with your teeth -thankfully you've turned your back to him again, feigning observing with great attention something through the windows- to stop yourself from screeching. It takes him so long, so fucking long for him to decide, finally, that maybe he should leave. The longest dozens of seconds of your life. Staring outside, picturing him behind you, probably watching you wondering to himself how you can be so lame and how he could have thought you a good fit to be his precious son's teacher. "Ah, I should leave anyway. Your class is about to start?"

"Ah, yes. Well, thanks for passing by. I hope you rest well." It's the least genuine you've been with this man, and anyone for the matter, in so long. Your heart and mind are in such a shamble you don't actually remember the reason for his coming and if, really, anything positive came out of this conversation.

It's ridiculous how you feel, all bothered and nervous, aggravated with him for making you feel so flustered. You give him the most convincing fake smile you own, not taking the time to check if he buys it as you don't dare lingering your attention on him for any longer than the blink of the eye takes.

When he leaves, only after having scattered a bunch of smooches on Jimmy's face, you find yourself breathing again. It's like you've been holding in for so long, you're getting dizzy at the taste of oxygen again, heart beating furiously in your chest, sweating all over.

Fuck, that was painful.

You're such an idiot sometimes. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot? It's not like you're asking much in this life, honestly. You're not aiming at any groundbreaking, universe shaking novelties. You're staying in your line, trying to be good and do good in your own little world. Not asking much, not taking without beforehand being offered. Is it really that much to ask to not be absolutely humiliated in front of one of your kids' parent, who happens to be a stupidly handsome man? (Yes, he is. You can admit that -to yourself. It's probably the reason why your brain stopped working properly, by the way.) You're cursed. I'm cursed, I'm cursed, I'm cur-

"Mish?" The quietest little call comes from the quietest little boy. Standing a secure meter away from you, his peculiar big black eyes staring with a silent demand in them, Jimmy waits patiently for your attention to be given to him. You offer it to him with great enthusiasm. Because between self-pitying your dumb ass and celebrating the first-ever-self-willingly-uttered word to you by this boy, the choice is not even to be pondered over.

"Yes, Jimmy?" He's holding in one hand your crayons he slowly tends your way, careful not to spill them all from his tiny fist. In the other one, there's a paper he's drawn on. Your eyes instinctively are driven to it, curious to see what he decided to draw when he felt comfortable enough to do it. He catches the line of your attention, evidently, and it takes him a second but then, finally, he decides you're allowed to see it. It's a too accurate copy of the ugly cat you made for him the other day. The colours are different, the traits a bit shakier yet, completely unbiasedly, you have to admit that he somehow made it look better. "That's a very pretty cat, Jimmy."

He looks at it, ruminates your words, trying to make sense of them, verify their accuracy. Suddenly he seems to decide that you're right and giving you another candid look, he returns to his table where he proceeds to carefully slip the drawing in his bag.

You realise your eyes are filled up with prickling tears while you sniff. You're not sure how much is due to this, how much the terrible, terrible encounter with his dad worked your emotions so intensely you're so sensitive now. In any case, it turns out for the better. It's this cute little cat that ends up making you and your day ahead feel better. You're so thankful for it.

Again, you know you're too involved but how are you supposed to do any different with them? Maybe it wasn't a punishment earlier. Maybe it was the storm before the ray of sunshine. It's probably the case. You're less aggravated, suddenly. Less vexed and probably more lenient on talking to this man again given, not the ray of sunshine, but actually rainbow that he may have helped cause to colour your day.

A/N: thanks for reading 💜

[miracle-maricat]

Miraculous : The Reveal : a Phone Call Away

Marinette ran up the stairs wiping her tears after she heard the bad news. She was moving to Shanghai! Even though she had an amazing adventure with Fei and Cat noir, moving to Shanghai would mean she can’t be ladybug anymore!

              “Tikki, I don't know what to do! I can’t be ladybug and the guardian from Shanghai! It’s all too much. I can't take it anymore!” She sobs. *Ring Ring* “Oh Alya is calling.” Marinette says as she wipes her tears.

              “Hey Girl, I heard the news. I’m coming over right now stay there!” *beep* Alya hung up the phone.

Meanwhile in the Agrete Estate…..                                                                        

              “Father Please! I don’t want to go to boarding school! I have friends! If i go there I will only be with a bunch of rich snobs!” Adrien pleaded.

             “I have made my decision. You leave in a few weeks.” Gabriel told him sternly. After the door closed Plagg came out and started panicking!

            “This is bad, you can’t leave. Who will feed me my Camembert!” Plagg cried as Adrien looked at him with an annoyed face. “But the truth is that I will miss you 100 times more than Camembert. You're the best Cat Noir I’ve ever had. Plagg said and hugged Adrien.

            “Woah Plagg I’ve never seen this side of you before! It’s so not you!” Adrien explained happily. “We should get going, It’s almost time for patrol with M’lady!”

Back to Marinette’s……..

           “What do I do Alya? This is way too much to handle. And if-if-if I move there I’ll have to take Cat noir’s miraculous because I can’t leave him to protect Hawkmoth alone. I can’t even leave you! You still need training! An-“ Marinette get cutt of by Alya.

           “Relax, Girl you’ll figure it out! You hid your secret identity from me for a long time. And I’m a reporter! You fought Shadowmoth hundreds of times you beat him even when it all seemed lost.”

           “I don’t know how I did it! I was alone! I couldn't tell anyone about how much pressure I was under! And now Master Fu has lost his memory! I just can’t take it anymore!”

          “Marinette, listen to me. You might not realize it but you did have someone to talk to, Chat noir. He knows you the best. And he’s cute too!”

          “You don't mean that '' giggled Marinette “But you’re right he was there for me all this time, I just never took the time to see underneath his silliness, that reminds me I was supposed to get him a gift for his birthday! I have just the thing. “Marinette ran to her secret stash of gifts for Adrien and pulled out a black and green wrapped book. Marinette transformed and swung here yo-yo to the secret spot where she and Cat noir meet before every Patrol.

          “M’lady you made it!” Cat noir exclaimed

          “Of course! How could I miss your birthday patrol, Kitty!” Ladybug said as she started into his green eyes. “Have they alway been that shade of green?” She thought as she felt herself start to blush.

           “What’s in the box? A tiny bed for Plagg? Or maybe it’s a book?” He said curiously.

           “Actually you’re right, Kitty. It’s a memory book. I got pictures of our best moments and put them inside.” She said as she hoped he would like it.

           “…” Chat noir was silent

           “ You don't like it do you.” Ladybug said sadly.

           “No, I Love it! It’s so amazing! But why are there empty pages?”he questioned.

          “ Those are for new memories. For the future!” Ladybug said as she remembered she had to tell him the bad news.

          “ M’lady there is something I need to tell you. I can’t be Cat noir anymore.”  Cat noir said as he started sobbing.

         “Cat noir? I-I-I can’t be ladybug either.” She sobbed. “My parents decided to move out of Paris and I can't do anything about it.”

          “Why does this have to happen to me? M'lady I’m so unlucky, you don’t even know how hard my life is! And now I have to give it all up! And for what! So my Father Can be Happy!” Cat noir sobbed even louder.

          “Cat Noir I- I don't know what to say. I-I” Ladybug got cut off by her alarm and said “ I‘m sorry Cat noir, See you tomorrow, same time?”

         “Same time” he sighed and wiped his tears.

The next day the both got ready for School having to tell everyone that they are leaving. Right before Marinette entered the school she tripped on a rock.

         “ Woah! You Better watch where you’re going!” Adrien said as he helped Marinette up.

         “DUPAN-CHANG! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY ADRIKINS!” Chloe screamed loudly across the school.

          “Hey Chloe. I’ve had enough of you picking on me! All you do is hurt everyone! But I’m not going to yell and tell you off.” Marinette said “I believe that you have an amazing person inside of you. All you have to do is let her out.” Marinette said as she tried to hold in her tears from the news she still had to tell. “Hey you guys, I’ve got bad news. I’m moving to Shanghai!”

          *Gasp* Everyone was shocked.

          “Oh no” said Rose “Marinette you're the best Marinette ever! You can’t go!”

          “What!” Exclaimed Adrien “I have to move too!”

         “ How is that possible!” Marinette thought “Me, Cat noir, AND Adrien are all moving! That’s crazy” After school marinette went home to get some packing done with Alya. They packed and talked. They also tried some new power up recipes. Then Alya accidently released the kwami’s, but them got them all back.  Around 9 Alya went home and Marinette went to bed. When Marinette fell asleep Plagg came inside.

         “Tikki, what are we going to do! This can’t be happening. Paris will be destroyed! And it won’t be my fault this time!” Plagg ranted

         “Plagg! Calm down! Marinette will figure something out.” Tikki explained.

         “Bye Tikki!” Plagg yelled.

         “Bye Plagg!” Tikki yelled back.

In the morning at Adrien’s house…

          “Isn’t that weird Plagg? M’lady and Marinette are both moving.” Asked Adrien.

          “Nah this is all rotten cheese. Marinette can’t possibly be Ladybug! She’s Multi-mouse remember?” Plagg answered as he ate his cheese.

          “You’re right.” Sighed adrien “I guess i have to continue packing.”

          “Adrien, these are your last weeks in Paris, enjoy them! And they’re you last weeks with me” play said as he started tearing up.

          “Plagg, come here! I want to give you a hug!” Adrien said as he started to chase Plagg around the room.

         “YOU WILL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!” Exclaimed Plagg.

Later that day…..

        “Plagg, Claws out!” Adrien quietly whispered the transformation words as he went to fight Mr.Pigeon. Again.

        “Hello M’lady! Looks like we got ourselves a Fur-miliar friend!” Cat Noir exclaimed as he got into his battle pose.

        “I’m Glad you’re here kitty!” Ladybug replied. “You know what to do!” Soon they defeated the villain and captured its akuma.

        “M’lady Great Job out there! I would’ve never guessed that he would give the akumatized object to one of the pigeons! You deserve an ap-paw-se(applause)!” Chat noir emphasized.

        “Thanks Cat noir! You too! We would’ve lost if it wasn't for your idea to scare the pigeons.” Exclaimed ladybug. *BEEP BEEP BEEP* “I better get going! I can't show you my identity. Bug out!”

        “WHEEEEEE” Cat noir exclaimed as he swung through Paris. He landed inside his bathroom and de-transformed. “Plagg, why does it smell like your cheese inside my shower?”

         “Well I had to age my cheese somewhere! In my defense it said to put it in a glass container!” Plagg Blabbed. Adrien sighed and went to shower. Then he had a thought. “It sure is weird that marinette and ladybug are both moving! I mean they are pretty similar. No but Marinette is clumsy. BUT! No, that can’t be true.”

         “Adrien you have a photo shoot in 30 minutes! You have 10 minutes to get ready!” Nathalie Told him. Adrien nodded and got ready. He drove to his photo shoot and saw Marinette hide on her balcony.

         “Why would Marinette need to hi-” Adrien was cut off by a red flash. Then Ladybug flew off Marinette's balcony! “OMG OMG OMG MARINETTE IS LADYBUG! I CAN”T TELL HER THAT THEN SHE WON’T BE ABLE TO FIGHT! Oh but I really want to tell her now because Marinette is already so amazing. And her being ladybug is 100 times more amazing! Wait if she transformed that means there is an akuma attack!” Thought adrien. “Ahh there is an akuma attack! He exclaimed and ran to transform. “At least it's not Mr.Pigeon!” Chat noir chuckled as ladybug gave him a new look. “I’ve never seen that look before mar-Ladybug” Cat noir stuttered. “Oh shoot. I almost called her Marinette”

         “Uh-um what look!?” Ladybug quickly responded.  They quickly found a way to defeat the villain and its sentimonster. They said their goodbyes and went opposite ways. “Cat noir? Wait i-”

         “Claws in” Adrien said as ran out of the ally.

         “B-b-bwahhhhhhhhh… ADRIEN AGRESTE, MY ADRIEN AGREST, IS MY PARTNER. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I loved and hated Adrien or cat noir! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL HIM ANYMORE!” Marinette panicked. “Tikki…..”she whined.

         “Marinette, it was time you knew. You are the Guardian after all!” Tikki replied.

They kept the secret from each other for almost a month. Adrien packed for larding School. While Marinette slowly packed her room. Everyone was slowly saying their goodbyes. Until one day…

     “I’m leaving tomorrow M’lady! I can’t keep my miraculous anymore if I’m leaving for America!” Cat noir confessed!

    “Cat noir! Don’t say that! We’ll figure it out!” Ladybug pleaded.

    “Plagg, I renounce you.” Cat noir said as he teared up. “I’m sorry Marinette..”

    “M-marinette…You know!? Adrein I know too..” Ladybug Cried.

    Meanwhile…..

    “I knew they were solemates since that time Alex got akumatized.” Luka said as he held up his ship flag. Marinette detransformed And ran up to him crying.

    “I’m so glad it you, Cat noir” She said crying.

    “Marinette? Me too! I mean you're amazing both way! Marinette is amazing. Ladybug is amazing. And you’re both! Like that's Pawsome!”

    “Hehehehe” Marinette giggled “But what is going to happen now? I’m moving to Shanghai, and you……”

    “Well? I’ll only be a phone call away. Besides that? I want to ask you something.” Adrein said happily

    “And what is that, Kitty?” Marinette flirted

    “Will you be my girlfriend, M’lady?” Cat noir asked eagerly

    “ Will I? Of course I will! Now I need to tell Alya! She will never believe me.” Marinette exclaimed.

At school….

   “OH MY GOD! GIRLS IT FINALLY HAPPENED!!” Alya yelled. “Marinette! WHAT IS THIS! WHAT IS GOING ON! Did you actually…You know.. tell him.”

  “ I told him everything! EVERYTHING And I mean EVERYTHING” Marinette said.

  “YOU DID NOT, I swear girl, if you did …..”Alya continued.

               “ He’s my soulmate. HE’S CAT NOIR!!” Marinette whispered.

               “…. WHATTTTTTTT” Alya screamed. “GIrl you need to fill me in tonight! We're gonna have a girls night!”

                “Shall we get to class, M'lady!” Said Adrien

               “We shall! Kitty!” Marinette said. Marinette couldn’t believe she had finally found her kitty. Adrien was beyond excited that he found his love. Later that night at Marinette house. “ Alya I think it’s time.” Marinette said reluctantly.

                “You don’t mean..” Alya started

              “I do! If I’m not going to be ladybug anymore then it’s time they know.” Marinette confidently walked down the stairs and sat her parents down at the table. “ Mom, Dad I have something important to tell you. Actually 2 things. Well the first is that I have a boyfriend!” She said excitedly.

               “Omg Marinette! Who is it!” Her parents blurted out.

               “ It’s Adrien Agreste, actually!” Marinette said super fast.

               “…WERE SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” Her mom said as she teared up.

              “My daughter! The girlfriend of a supermodel” her dad said as he was crying.

            “But there is one more thing…I’m Ladybug.” She confessed.

           “Wait… Hold on, you are ladybug!? That’s why you're always missing your classes and late all the time! You’re saving Paris! I’m so proud-” Sabine exclaimed before Tom interrupted her.

          “My daughter is the girlfriend of a model AND is a superhero! She can’t get any better than that!” Tom told her.

         “Actually.. I can’t be Ladybug if I live in Shanghai. I don’t know what to to. It’s all so hard! You have no idea how hard it was lying to you all the time! And all for nothing!” Marinette broke down in front of her parents.

         “Marinette, sweetie, You are not alone anymore. Even if we move, Paris will be safe. ShadowMoth might attack one or twice but when he realizes that you're not here he will stop.” Sabine comforted her. Marinette still had to move, but she was more sure of herself.

At the Agreste Estate….

         “I finally feel complete. I found my true love! My father might not know any of this but I can do anything without him. Tomorrow I have to leave, but at least I’ll have Marinette.” Adrien sighed. Nathalie came in and told him goodbye and that his bodyguard would take him to the train station tomorrow morning. He nodded and went to bed.

The next morning at the Train Station….

          “Bye Adrien! I’ll miss ya Dude!” Nino said and gave him a fist bump.

          “Goodbye Adrien. Hope I will see YOU soon.*Wink” Alya smirked

          “Bye!” Rose said.

          “Yeah.. bye adrien..” mumbled juleka.

          “Bye Adrien!” Said the rest of his friends Unanimously.

          “Wait….Where’s Marinette?” Adrien questioned as he looked for her.

          “Mgh” His bodyguard grunted singling for him it was time to go.Before Adrein stopped onto the train Marinette came running to him.

“Marinette! You made it! I thought you didn’t wanna come!” Adrien exclaimed!

“Adrien Agreste. Here is the Miraculous of the Black Cat. It grants you the power of destruction. You will use it for the greater good.” Marinette smiled and handed him the ring. He grinned so much everyone was confused.

         “What’s that? Ooh, is it a special couples thing!” Rose asked.

         “Yeah what is it! Everyone asked. They looked at each other and knew it was time.

*Cue Miraculous instrumental theme song*

         “Tikki! Spots On!” Marinette exclaimed while Adrien said “Plagg! Claws out!” They decided it was time the world knew because if they knew each other’s identities they could protect one another. Sooner or later Marinette went off to live in Shanghai. But like Adrien said “I’ll always be a phone call away.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 1: CAT AND MOUSE

Word Count: 2406 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Warnings: Canon-typical violence Rating: T Cross-posted to AO3: here

Masterlist

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Twenty minutes. Maybe more, if the neighbors were particularly unobservant, but twenty minutes was a sure thing.

Gently, you tested the doorknob, shocked and almost a little insulted when the latch clicked and the door swung silently inward under your guidance. What kind of smug prick leaves home and doesn’t lock the front door behind him; sure, the neighborhood was nice, but it wasn’t that idyllic. Still, gift horses and all that. You shrugged and proceeded in, closing the door again behind you, no need to draw attention, and ghosting up the stairs to the third floor.

Keeping your light low, you looked around for something that matched the description of the painting that would be hiding your target.

“The painting contains three apples and a lemon,” your informant had said.

Unfortunately, nothing in the veritable gallery of this home office was one of those weird fruit still-lifes. Scanning all of the images for some fruit, especially with the variety of art styles on the walls, would take time. You cursed under your breath as you set to work systematically.

It wasn’t like you could hold it against your informant that much. She was a disgruntled and bitter but still scared and reliant employee telling you where to find maybe not all but certainly the most fungible of her shitty boss’s assets. You could permit her a little crypticness, so long as it didn’t blow up in your face in the end. Which, since this bloody fortune was made in arms deals, there was always the possibility of, literally.

Three apples and a lemon, three apples and a lemon, three apples and a...

“Gotcha,” you murmured, the first real sound you had made since entering the house.

The tall painting took up most of the corner where it hung, and the fruit was not particularly prominent, but there they sat, in a bowl on the table of the young couple featured in the image. That was good enough for you. The frame lifted easily off the wall, and behind it, set in was a small steel door with three combination dials in the center. It was cute that he thought that would protect him from you.

Within minutes, the last of the tumblers thunked into place and the door popped open.

“Hello my lovely,” you purred, plucking out a padded box, opening up and gazing briefly at the way the finely cut gem glittered beneath your fingers. “I have a new home for you.”

You snapped the box shut, reveling at the way it echoed through the empty house. It was reckless, but you had earned a little bit of that. There was no one close enough to hear and if there was a security system, all it would pick up was a blip of sound, a glitch. Tucking the gem, and several other treasures from the safe into your bag, you put everything back to the way it was with expert precision.

Nineteen and a half minutes. You should be smart and get out, you knew, but there was no sign of concern, interest, pursuit. And this was the sort of man you wanted to take more from than money. You bit your lip, hesitating. And then you made your way to his desk, which was scattered with files and papers, a treasure trove of corporate secrets and proprietary scandals.

Suddenly, the file you were reading was knocked from your hand and you jumped, startled by the heavy sound of something metal striking wood. Looking down, you saw the glint of a knife sticking out of the desk not more than an inch from your hand. You had been so engrossed in the numbers and figures, math and profits painted in blood, that you hadn’t noticed that you were no longer alone.

“Shit!” you shouted, recoiling.

Leaning in the doorway, another knife in hand, was a man dressed all in black, leather mostly, his eyes covered in a domino mask that really didn’t do much to hide his face. It might stop you from picking him out of a crowd, but if you were to try, you could probably figure out his identity. In fact, as you stared at him in the dim light, you were sure that he looked familiar, a fact you filed away for later, if he didn’t kill you.

“You know, solid black isn’t actually that great for creeping around in shadows,” you said, fighting back control of your voice. “And if you’re looking for Mr. Sullivan, I’m not him.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for him then,” he answered with a smirk. “But it does beg the question: what are you doing in his office?”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m his secretary and he asked me to stop by and pick up a file?”

“In the middle of the night, in the dark, dressed like that?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get that one to work. Listen, whatever you came here for, I won’t get in your way if you don’t get in mine. We can both walk out of here with no one the wiser.”

“I came here to stop you. Heard about a lurker on the radio and got here faster than the cops. But a lurker looks to me more like a thief.” His head tilted to one side.

“No point in denying it then. I was hired by one of his competitors to try and steal some blueprints for some new grenade design,” you lied, hoping he didn’t know enough about the man to know whether that could be true. “But I don’t see it here, and frankly the payday isn’t worth getting almost stabbed. So how about I just…go and we forget this ever happened, yeah?”

You kept your hands in the air where he could see them and slowly circled the desk, away from the man blocking the doorway, closer step by careful step to the window. You studied it out of the corner of your eye. Heavy, leaded glass. That was going to hurt, but you’d been through worse.

“I’m not going to let you just walk away after you broke in here.”

“Technically all I did was enter, there was no breaking. Asshole left the front door open. Practically an invitation.” You gestured as if to say you were helpless against the temptation.

“Oh in that case…” you couldn’t tell from the distance, but the tone of his voice made you fairly certain that he was rolling his eyes at you. “I’ll be nice and not pin you there,” he gestured again with the knife, pointing at the wall behind you. “But I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“Oh I dunno…strong handsome guy like you, I might like you pinning me,” you smirked. “But I’ll have to take a raincheck on it. Places to be and all that jazz.”

You had managed to position yourself directly in front of the window now, the light of the full moon shining around you like a very misplaced halo. He was watching your every move closely, tensed like he expected an ambush. Instead, you blew him a kiss.

And then you turned and leapt, smashing through the window in a rain of shards which glittered magically in the moon. By the time he reacted, crossing the room in a flash to stare out into the night below, you were rolling to your feet and running, adrenaline letting you ignore the distance you had fallen and a miracle letting you escape without blood.

~

You encountered the mysterious man with the knives seven more times over the course of that year. It had become almost a welcome tradition, a warning that someone was onto you, with plenty of time to get out before the actual police showed up. No matter how many times he threatened it, he never hurt you, and he never quite managed to stop you (part of you wondered if this was intentional, as you had worked out early on that this was one of the members of The Umbrella Academy which you had grown up hearing so much about).

“Diamonds again?” he asked, leaning casually against another display case as you placed the glass back over where the necklace now in your hands had been.

“What can I say, I like shiny things?” you offered with a shrug, holding up the jewels before dropping them into the bag at your hip. “And in my defense, I checked the provenance. These were stolen long before they ended up in my hands.”

“So that makes it alright to rob a museum in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah, basically. Doesn’t it?”

“No.” His voice was flat but his face beneath that stupid domino mask was incredulous that you would even try such an excuse.

“What if I add in that the necklace contains blood diamonds and ethically, no one should have them?”

“But you have them.”

“Only until I can sell them. And then I’ll put the money to way better use…I’m thinking Thai food, first at least. Wanna come?”

“What?”

“I’ll fly a signal or whatever it is that summons you and we’ll get dinner. You can leave your mask on if you like.”

“I’m not getting dinner with you.”

“Breakfast then?”

He pointed at you, with the hilt of the knife, as he had started doing more often. “You’re just trying to confuse me so you can escape again. That’s not going to happen this time.”

“Isn’t it?” you cocked your head to one side. “I don’t think the saying goes ‘eighth time’s the charm.���”

“Even if you escape, you’re not in someone’s house or office this time. A museum will have a security system. You’ll get tracked down for this one.” He sounded almost sad as he said it, like he regretted that your game of cat and mouse was coming to an end.

You took a step closer to him. He tensed. A certain amount of distance between you had always been one of the unspoken rules. Another step. You watched him swallow nervously and found it hilarious, since he could definitely best you in a fair fight. Third step. His eyes flickered to the sides as if looking for an escape route. Maybe he knew if you ever decided to have a go at him you wouldn’t let it be a fair fight.

By the time you stopped moving, you were inches from him and he practically vibrated with tension.

“If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, watching his eyes flicker down to your lips. “I’d say you wanted me to get away.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped half-heartedly, licking his lips nervously. “You’re a criminal.”

“Then now’s your chance. Stop me.” You leaned closer, the motion with the double meaning of your words making your intention clear.

The knife he was holding clattered to the ground as his hand shot out to grab you by the wrist. But the gesture wasn’t used to restrain. No, he used it to tug you closer, making you stumble into his chest as your lips crashed together. And then, the kiss became a war. You were both all teeth nipping lips and tongues battling each other. One hand gripped bruisingly onto your hip, fingers digging into flesh and holding you against him. The other released your wrist and tangled into your hair, knocking aside the cap you used to keep it contained. For your part you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer. The other clawed his shoulder, clinging to him to keep yourself upright.

Your head was hazy and overwhelmed with the taste and feel of him, with the wanting more of it. But, there was a tiny part of your mind that was still paying attention. Your hand danced, trailing touches easily disguised as passion, freeing the knives from his harness, collecting them quietly in nimble fingers. He released your hip, slid his hand down over the curve of your ass, making you gasp. You set the knives as quietly as you could on the top of the display case, just out of convenient reach or obvious notice. His hand hooked onto your thigh, an inviting gesture. Instead you pulled away.

“This…” you murmured, lips still just barely brushing against his, “…was a bad idea.”

He released you; you stepped back.

“It doesn’t change things,” he said. “I’m still not letting you get away again.”

“Of course not,” you smiled, soft. You knew the steps of your dance. “But I’m still going to try.”

You turned. Diego watched as you ran, sprinting over marble-tiled floors. He reached back to grab a knife, not sure what he was going to do to keep from hurting you badly, but needing to do something. He frowned, the sheath was empty. Your steps drew you further away, he moved to follow, reaching further, only to find that every sheath was empty.

He swore, shouting the curse after you, and you couldn’t help the laugh that echoed back to him.

~

Laying on his bed in the boiler room that night, Diego couldn’t stop thinking about her: the feeling of her hair beneath his fingers, the taste of her lips on his, her soft warmth pressed against him. But more than that, it was her smile, her laugh, the light-hearted way she had teased him from the very beginning, utterly shameless and unafraid.

Something tickled at the back of his mind that there was more to her than just a good thief, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. And every time he tried, instead he was assaulted with the memory of the way her flesh gave way to his touch and her hot breath tickled his face. He wanted to solve the mystery of her, but more than that, he just wanted her.

He got up with a sigh, knowing he’d be unable to sleep in this state. He loosely wrapped his hands before taking out his pent-up emotion on the punching bag hanging in one corner. As he worked, his mind seemed to clear, and a new thought occurred to him. The next time they encountered each other, and he was certain there would be a next time, at the very least he would get her name. A name to put to the face, and the other things, would be enough.

[silencebetrayer]

Little People - An Irish Fairy Tale Part 2

The reign of dreams and roses

"Don't bother them, my dear. You were lucky they found your little trap hilarious!" "Mister O'Reilly, what happened in this valley? Why is everyone warning me against the little people?" A long silence followed, during which the old man sipped his Connemara peated whiskey. "Sweetheart, you may hear a lot of tales down at the pub, but also in our family there's something to tell. You've never known your cousin Billy, haven't you? Well, he might tell you about that time he became slave of the Queen of Spiny Roses for a whole moon cycle." "Slave?" "Don't be surprised. They're ancient souls. They conceive only those rapports they can understand and here in the citadel for a thousand years there was a Count and his servants. They don't understand this free life thing, without owners, where everyone seems equal to each other. They have a very strict hierarchy and I can promise you.. if you keep giving enough rope, they will tie you up. At least, that's what happened to Billy." "What did Billy have to do for the Queen?" "At that time Billy would have sold his soul to fill his glass, to those vices the good people like to cling. A night in the woods a little crowd of fairies bumped into  giant Billy, the Queen ordered her folks to bring their guest a glass of the bitter Spirit's nectar. He guzzle that witches' brew without a single word. He could swear it was tasty like ambrosia of all forgotten Gods. The Queen claimed a payment for his drink and Billy started to mock her 'Is it I pay you?' said Billy 'could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?' The Queen did not let go of that insolence and the good lords  tightened the invisible harness they caught him in and led him to their ruler like a steed. She imposed a vow of obedience till the end of next moon cycle and on occasion she showed off their rivals her power over him, claiming his tongue as footrest." "I don't get what you're saying, sir. You did tell me we've got power over fairy manifestation.. that it depends on our thoughts and our desires, our hopes and fears." The old man smiled "From what slavery would a man be freed? From drink-slavery or from a queen-slavery?" The girl understood that story was concealing a metaphor of redemption and humility. The old man's stories are indeed so bewildering: you never know where the symbol ends and the anecdote begins. "Anyway when we found Billy he was covered in stings from the waist up. He said the ball of Roses court had been held on his chest. A ball where every damsel's heel is a thorn of a flower and all skirts are petals. To us he had fallen in a field full of nettles." "What a strange story. I would never be enslaved by such a wicked Queen. Why didn't he rise up against her, I wonder." The old man shrugged muttering a proverb of his parts "The lake is not burdened by its swan, the steed by its bridle, or a man by the soul that is in him".

***

That night Elizabeth wrote a quick note in Gaelic by the windowsill:"I want to meet you. Come and see me.". She left a sugar cube as gift. The girl rolled over her bed restlessly, hoping her message would reach its destination and, as often happens, sleep came  all of a sudden, like a swoon. She found herself in a very strange place never seen before. It resempled an ancient kitchen on the basement of a castle, with no windows, red briks as walls and roof, painted cardboard as wallpaper on one side, a makeshift chimney. Outside the noise of the rain was heavy and emptied out of the comforting sensation with which it gifted melancholic souls. She was identifying in that room a combination of minuscule things. All chairs were small wooden cubes of an old child's game, and so was the table. They weren't comfy, but pieces of cloth stuffed with wool, roughly sewn, gave softness to the seat. A pocket mirror served as tray for a miniature porcelaine tea set, a bit chipped, but lovely at first sight. The sugar cube she had left in gift was lying right next to it, with an awl sticked at its center. The girl realized she was falling in a bizarre dream scenario, but something real was also taking place. "Is this a dream?" "Of course, little girl" answered a middle-aged male voice from the outside. The small door of that sort of kitchen was a metal shutter. A man was moving it with his shoulder, carrying a bundle of sticks or twigs bound together and a bucket of water. Covered with a waterproof plastic bag, the man laid down all the materials and cast a glance over the table to be sure everything was in place. His big nose and bushy eyebrows gave him an austere touch and there was something of the  craftsman's wisdom in his skilled hands and his silence. He hunged his unusual coat on the knight's head of a chessboard (his clothes rack, she guessed). The girl was paralyzed and hugged herself in the nightgown. She wasn't cold, the atmosphere was warm enough, she was feeling a sense of vulnerability that made her closed off. The man took care of the fireplace and fill the water on the teapot. "Come closer to the fireplace, kid!" He had a raspy voice and an unjustified scowl to her feeling. "Why'd you bring me here?" He looked her up and down like a fool, then he nodded toward the table where a piece of paper was serving as tablecloth. 'I want to meet you.' read the girl, recognizing her handwriting. "But.. are you Tuvia!?" After a moment of silence, during which the man was trying to  catch the sincerity of the question, he laughed outright "AHAHAH Me? That leaf in the wind? Do I seem a rain spirit?! I thought you were a smart one, kid, but if these are the premises.." The girl didn't seem to appreciate the little man humour "So Sir.. you picked up a message that was not addressed to you. Why should you interfere with my correspondence?!" "Correspondence? Look, sweetie.. what do you think we have a mail service here in Bluebell forest? We give more values to a tree then your own kind.. we don't waste their sheets for a futile message." "Who the hell are you, anyway? Little people? What are you doing here in my dreams?" "That's how we meet for the first time. We don't accept invitations from strangers." The teapot started to splutter on the fireplace, the steam bubbles looked like small domes and the water sounded so much deeper then usual.. she understood that her size was making every sound so alien and unsettling. From the infusion aromas of wildflowers started to spread in the room. "What's your name?" "My dear, what sort of question is that? I'm the guardian spirit of O'Really's family. My name's O'Really, of course" "So.. Do Guardian spirits take the name from the family they protect?" He didn't answer. He didn't seem to like rhetorical question, but was forcing himself to stay kind and served the tea calmly with a piece of sugar cube in it. "Listen, child. We Home spirits don't talk more than is strictly necessary. Our silence is our invisibility. So let me get right to the point: you heard elder O'Reilly advice before.. Do not upset the spirits of these woods. He's telling you this for your own good" Being called 'child" from that Spirit turned Elizabeth against him. She changed attitude and the tone of voices turned sharp and bitter. "So you just don't collect someonelse's letters, you also eavesdrop their conversations!" Talking to her was a great exercise in patience, he acknowledged. "It's not what you're thinking.. I can't just ignore whatever happens inside these walls. We're born from the feelings of this family, if they are worried for you, so am I. That's why I appear in your dream." "I weep from your sudden sentimentality" she said sarcastically "but I'm willing to bet that you were able to eavesdrop on our conversations simply because your lair is not so far from the fireplace" "I'm warning you, don't try to find it. You'd cause trouble to the O'Really family!" "Perhaps you should've considered that before you invited me in first place, you silly little man! Now, give this KID here a good reason she should not wake up and start to play cat-and-mouse game with you?" She sipped the tea, staring at the little spirit with an imperious smile that didn't bode well. "A reason, you say? With humans reasoning is not persuasive. I just pointed the sill you shall not cross, my dear, I didn't mean to push you through it" "Advice I didn't ask for" she crossed her arms and the situation freezed up. The home spirit resigned himself. "How do I wake?" she asked. "Don't worry, soon enough you'll be laying in your bed. Humans have control over the waking hours, but we spirits have our revenge in dreams realm. You're lucky we didn't inherit your cruelty. Anyway, if I can't dissuade you, I will be your messenger and maybe one day I will lead you to Tuvia" "I don't get if you're here to sabotage me or to help me" "We should not threaten the delicate balance currently in place in Bluebell forest. The Queen of Roses is the keeper of this equilibrium, she can't bear humans intrusiveness into her reign. Especially from someone that does look like her." "Do I look like the Queen of Roses?" Elizabeth's questions were to him as sharp and wit as the echo of a well. "Tuvia fought The Court of Roses, you know?" "That light thingie? He's fragile like a blade of grass. I bet if I dare to lay down in the garden he'd become a stain on my dress. Also, if he's so brave why isn't he in the forest, why doesn't he just keep fighiting?" "He's an exile, he no longer knows the comfort of a border. He's devoted to the rain, cause he sees himself and his destiny in the clouds. A new Queen would save him. But he doesn't want to be saved!" The Spirit of O'Reilly got pretty mouthy with sadness. Elizabeth recognized some of the distinctive features of elder Mr O'Reilly and the hardness of Mrs O'Reilly too. A weird mix of both personality traits. Elizabeth sipped the infusion, this time fully enjoying the aroma of freshly picked flowers. She felt her body tossing in her sleep.. she didn't want to wake right now. O'Reilly spirit stared at her then nodded as a farewell. When she opened her eyes, the Spirit's last words were echoing in her head, filling the heart with an odd hope "a new Queen.." she repeated to herself. She could have sworn to feel the wildflowers taste on the tip of her tongue.

To Be Continued...

Ita version

Il regno delle rose e dei sogni

"Non disturbarli, ragazza mia. Sei stata fortunata che abbiano preso con umorismo la tua piccola trappola! In qualche modo devono aver trovato la tua provocazione uno spasso!" "Signor O'Reilly, cosa è successo in questa valle per cui tutti mi mettono in guardia da loro" Ci fu un lungo silenzio in cui il vecchio sorseggiò il suo Whiskey, rigorosamente torbato del Connemara. "Sweetheart, ne potresti sentire un bel pò giù al pub. Ma in famiglia abbiamo già di che raccontare. Tu non lo hai mai conosciuto il cugino Billy. Beh, lui potrebbe dirti di quella volta che restò schiavo per una luna intera della regina delle fate Rosa Spinae." "Schiavo?" "Non ti stupire, sono anime antiche, concepiscono solo i rapporti che conoscono e per più di 1000 anni qui nella rocca c'era un conte e i suoi servi, non la capiscono questa faccenda moderna del vivere senza padroni, dove tutti sembrano uguali eccetera. Hanno una rigida gerarchia e puoi giurarci che se continui a dargli spago ti daranno il bel servito, come fu per il vecchio Billy" "Cosa fece Billy per la regina?" "A quel tempo Billy si sarebbe dannato l'anima per riempirsi il bicchiere, ed è ai vizi che il buon popolo si appiglia. Quando una notte in un bosco la piccola schiera si imbattè in quel gigante, la regina ordinò che gli fosse portato un bicchiere del fiele degli spiriti, lui non se lo fece ripetere e lo trangugiò d'un fiato. Billy giurò che era il nettare liquoroso di tutti gli dei ormai dimenticati. La regina reclamò un pagamento e Billy la derise 'Io pagare te? Ma se posso metterti tranquillamente in tasca come una mora!' La regina non passò sopra quell'insolenza e il buon popolo lo legò a briglie invisibili che non potevano essere sciolte e quel che è peggio gli impose il voto dell'obbedienza per una luna intera. Di venne il destriero della regina, ma all'occorrenza la regina dava sfoggio di potere alle sue rivali, reclamando la lingua del gigante come poggiapiedi" "Non mi torna quel che dite, signore. Avevate detto che noi abbiamo potere sulla manifestazione delle fate e che dipendono dai nostri desideri" Il vecchio sorrise "Quale schiavitù potrebbe desiderare un uomo? Quella del suo bicchiere o della sua regina?" La ragazza capì che quella storia celava una metafora di redenzione e umiltà. Avevano questo di disorientante, i racconti del vecchio: non sapevi mai dove finiva il simbolo e cominciava l'aneddoto. "Comunque quando lo trovarono Billy era ricoperto di punture dalla vita in su. Disse che sul suo petto si era tenuto il ballo della corte delle Rosa Spinae, in cui ogni damigella ha per tacco una spina di un fiore e per gonna i suoi petali, ma per molti era solo caduto su un campo di ortiche" "Che storia strana. Ma io non sarei mai schiava di una regina così perfida. Perchè non si è ribellato, mi chiedo?" commentò lei "Il cigno non pesa sul suo lago, la briglia non pesa al suo cavallo, né l'anima sull'uomo che la possiede" cantilenò l'uomo, facendo spallucce.

Quella notte scrisse una piccola nota in gaelico che lasciò davanti al davanzale. Diceva soltanto: "Voglio conoscervi. Venitemi a trovare", lasciò una zolletta di zucchero in dono. Si rigirava nel letto inquieta, nella speranza che il messaggio arrivasse a destinazione, e come spesso accade il sonno arrivò come un deliquio, senza preavviso. Si ritrovò in un luogo che non aveva mai visto prima d'ora. Una specie di antica cucina, senza finestre, mattoni rossi tutt'intorno, carta da parati di cartone con le sembianze di un giardino davano più respiro alla stanza. Fuori il rumore della pioggia era pesante e svuotato della sensazione di conforto che regala agli animi malinconici. Individuava negli oggetti della stanza una combinazione di cose minuscole. Le sedie erano piccoli cubetti di legno, appartenuti a qualche antico gioco. così come il tavolo. Non erano per nulla comodi, ma i pezzi di stoffa imbottita e cucita grossolanamente davano sollievo alla seduta. Uno specchietto da beauty asserviva alla funzione di vassoio sul quale erano poggiate tazzine che potevano provenire da un servizio da the in miniatura per bambole di porcellana, un pò sbeccato, ma grazioso a vedersi. La zolletta che aveva donato stava su un lato del ripiano di legno, con una specie di punteruolo conficcato al suo centro. La ragazza capì che era un sogno, ma aveva qualcosa di reale. "E' un sogno, questo?" "Certo, ragazzina" Rispose la voce di un uomo di mezza età dall'esterno. La porticina della cucina non era che un pezzo di serranda di ferro, l'uomo entrò con in mano dei legnetti rilegati e un secchiello d'acqua, avvolto in un impermeabile di tela. Poggiò l'occorrente a lato della porta, le sopracciglia cespugliose gli conferivano un'aria severa e le mani vissute, una saggezza artigianale. Appese l'insolito impermeabile sulla testa di un cavallo di scacchiera, che evidentemente fungeva da appendiabiti. La ragazza era paralizzata e si stringeva nella sua camicia da notte, non per il freddo, l'atmosfera era calda nonostante il rifugio sembrasse improvvisato, erano le pareti laterali di mattone ad emanare calore, ma avvertiva un senso di vulnerabilità che la faceva chiudere a riccio. L'uomo si premurò di accendere il fuoco in un buco del mattone e di riempire la teiera sospesa sul paiolo sostenuto da una corda e un ago, dalla capocchia ornata da una manigliuola. "Vieni più vicino alla luce del fuoco, ragazzina!" Aveva una voce roca e il tono presentava un cipiglio ingiustificato agli occhi di lei. "Si può sapere perchè mi trovo qui?" L'uomo la squadrò come a darle della matta, poi con un cenno del capo fece notare che la tavola era apparecchiata sul suo frammento di pergamena "Voglio conoscervi", riconobbe la ragazza. La sua scrittura. "Ma.. siete.. siete Tuvia?!" Dopo un attimo di silenzio, in cui l'uomo la fissava per cogliere in lei la sincerità della sua domanda, scoppiò in una fragorosa risata "AHAHAH Io? Quell'uccell di bosco di Tuvia!? Ho l'aria da piovano, io? Ti credevo sveglia ma se queste sono le premesse.." La ragazza non sembrava aver apprezzato l'umorismo dell'omino "Allora signore.. avete forse raccolto un messaggio non rivolto a voi!? Come vi permettete di interferire con la mia Corrispondenza!" "Corrispondenza? Senti dolcezza, cosa pensi che abbiamo il servizio postale in quel di Bluebell? Noi ai fogli d'albero diamo ben altro valore. Non lo sprechiamo per messaggi futili e sconsiderati." "Chi diavolo siete voi e che ci fate nei miei sogni?" "E' così che ci si incontra noi, la prima volta! Non accettiamo inviti dagli sconosciuti" La teiera cominciava a scoppiettare sul fuoco, le bolle di vapore avevano un aspetto cupolare e un suono più cupo del normale, dovevano essere quelle dimensioni a rendere ogni rumore anche il più familiare totalmente estraneo e inquietante. Nella stanza cominciò a diffondersi un odore di fiori che proveniva dall'infuso. "Come vi chiamate?" "Che razza di domanda è? Sono lo spirito protettore degli O'Reilly, quindi mi chiamo come loro" "Gli spiriti protettori portano il nome della famiglia?" Non rispose, sembrava un pò scocciato dalla retoricità delle domande, ma la ragazza aveva l'impressione che si sforzasse di essere gentile. Aveva messo in infusione una manciata di briciole di the e polline che raccoglieva da una bustina dilaniata come un sacchetto. Versò l'infusione nella tazzina che stava di fronte a lei. Staccò un paio di pezzi dalla zolletta per lei, sapeva persino come prendeva il the. "Ascolta ragazzina, noi spiriti della casa non parliamo più dello stretto necessario. Il nostro silenzio è la nostra invisibilità, quindi fammi andare al punto: Hai sentito cosa ha detto il buon vecchio O'Reilly stasera no? 'Non disturbare gli spiriti del bosco', lo ha detto per il tuo bene." Al sentirsi chiamare 'ragazzina' il tono della voce di lei si fece più risentito e squillante "Quindi oltre che profanatore di lettere, anche un origliatore maleducato" L'omino sospirò con enorme esercizio di pazienza "Non è come pensi.. non mi è possibile ignorare quello che succede entro queste mura, siamo nati dai sentimenti della famiglia che ha costruito questa casa. Se ti appaio in sogno è perchè questa famiglia si preoccupa per te" "il vostro sentimentalismo mi commuove" disse sarcasticamente, "ma sono pronta a scommettere che voi avete origliato per il semplice fatto che questo vostro rifugio si trova vicino al focolare" "Ti avverto ragazzina, non cercare di trovarlo, causeresti un dolore agli O'Reilly" "Dovevate pensarci prima di invitarmi qui, razza di stupido omino. E adesso datemi una buona ragione per cui questa 'ragazzina'" rimarcò la parola "non dovrebbe svegliarsi e venire a farvi fare la fine del topo" Sorseggiava la tazza di the adesso, fissando l'uomo con un sorriso imperioso, che non prometteva nulla di buono. "Ragioni? Se c'è qualcosa che so degli esseri umani è che la logica con voi non è persuasiva. Ho solo indicato la soglia da non varcare, ragazza mia, ma non era mia intenzione regalarvi la determinazione per attraversarla." "Il vostro consiglio non è richiesto" Incrociò le braccia. Calò un pò di gelo tra i due. Il sadismo giovanile di lei aveva fatto affiorare al viso del vecchio uno sguardo triste, leggermente rassegnato. "Come faccio a svegliarmi?" "Non ti preoccupare, presto sarai sul tuo letto, bambina. Voi avrete pur il controllo dei momenti di veglia, ma noi abbiamo la nostra rivincita nei sogni e sei fortunata che non abbiamo la vostra stessa crudeltà. Comunque.. se non posso dissuaderti, sarò il tuo messaggero e un giorno, forse, ti porterò da lui." disse quasi burbero "Quasta poi.. volevate sabotarmi e adesso vorreste anche farmi da guida" "La foresta di Bluebell si basa su un fragile equilibrio, il custode di quell'equilibrio, la Regina delle Rose, non ama l'invadenza umana, specie da una che le somiglia così tanto" "Io... somiglierei alla Regina?" Ignorò ancora quelle domande che avevano la stessa arguzia dell'eco di un pozzo. "Tuvia l'ha combattuta, sai.. la Corte delle Rose Spinae." "Quel cosino? Ma se è fragile come un filo d'erba. Scommetto che se mi stendessi in giardino, potrebbe diventare una macchia sul mio vestito. Se è così coraggioso, poi, perchè non è nella foresta a combattere?" "Lo vedi in giardino perchè è un esule e non conosce più la comodità di un confine. Si è consacrato alla pioggia, perchè si riconosce nelle nuvole. Una nuova regina.. questo lo salverebbe. E lui.. non vuole essere salvato!" Lo spirito degli O'Reilly con la tristezza si era fatto stranamente loquace, riconosceva qualcosa nel vecchio in lui, aveva la stessa dolcezza sotto una scorza dura che era più simile a quella della signora O'Reilly, uno strano mix. Elizabeth sorseggiò quell'infuso, stavolta godendone appieno l'aroma. Era come di tiglio. Avvertì che si stava agitando nel sonno. Non voleva svegliarsi proprio ora. Lo spirito degli O'Reilly la fissava e con un cenno del capo sembrò quasi accomiatarsi. Quando riaprì gli occhi sul suo letto, le ultime parole dello Spirito riecheggiavano ancora nelle sue orecchie riempiendola di non so quale speranza.. "Una nuova regina", si ripeteva. Poteva giurare di sentire ancora il sapore di tiglio sulla punta della lingua.