#anyways once i get into the swing of things and establish a routine i’m sure my activity will be At Least Consistent

[sacredpit]

i am very sadly very unfortunately very disgustingly going back to school tomorrow so my activity is about to be very not hot and sexy ( not that it has been on this blog anyway lol but it’s about to get ✨ worse ✨ ) but of course i will do my best to be active here and get back to everyone as timely as i can 😭 i know i spend most of my time on giorno but honestly that’s just because i’m logged in there on the app on my phone lol. i plan to do some writing tonight but idek which muse i’m feeling the most since my mood has been fuckin weird so ,,, thank u in advance for ur patience!! i’m just a silly little guy attempting to keep track of all the silly little ideas careening through my brain at breakneck speed while my energy levels are consistently in hell uwu

[fueledbyapplepi]

I love your writing it's so good!!! Could I have reader having a crush on the boys and giving them a kiss while they think the boys are asleep and confessing their love to them with mikey, chifuyu and the haitani brothers? Im just so soft for those boys!!!

Sleep Tight | Mikey, Chifuyu, Ran, and Rindou

- Confessing to the boys while they're (not really) asleep

genre: 🌸 fluff 🌸

warnings: minor cussing

A/N: Thank you, anon! I really got into writing this one ( ◜‿◝ )♡ Also, I honestly think I need to come up with better titles because it sounds like a word vomit to me LMAO Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Mikey (Sano Manjiro)

Life would be nice if you had someone by your side who felt the same way about you.

You already have Mikey by your side, making every day much easier to get by. But does he feel the same way with you?

You practically grew up together with Mikey. Being neighbors with the man, you often come by to play with them as kids- leading to a blooming friendship. Although more often, it was you watching Mikey train in his grandfather’s dojo, where he never fails to amaze you with his tricks. Sometimes, you��ll have sleepovers together with Emma and Mikey where you’ll watch movies with them. Only for Mikey to be sound asleep halfway through the movie.

Growing up, nothing has changed that much with that routine. The only thing that has changed is your growing feelings for Mikey.

You saw the ups and downs in his life. From the time he established Toman to losing Shinichiro, you were there to witness how he would build a castle from the rocks of his downfalls.

So it was no surprise that you find your heart beating much faster when he’s around.

Childish as he is, you can’t deny the fact that Mikey is charismatic, beautiful, and kind. But, you never had the chance to tell him what you feel. Because what if he never saw you the same way?

You looked at Mikey, who’s currently sitting by your side almost half asleep. His head swings from side to side as he struggles on whether he should watch the movie or not.

“Mikey, you always never get to finish our movie nights. You’re no fun.” Emma pouted at his brother as she turned off the television.

“Mhmm, not sleepy.” Mikey turned to look at you then at Emma before leaning on your shoulder. “Just a little.”

Your heart flutters from close contact. “Maybe he’s tired from one of Toman’s meetings.” You turned to look at Emma with a sorry face

Sighing, Emma stepped out of the room as she looked at you, “I’ll get us a blanket, wait here Y/N.”

Your face felt hot as you realized that you were left alone in the room with Mikey. Well, this isn’t unusual for you two but with the strong feelings you have for him, you just can’t help but blush.

You looked at Mikey, his eyelashes seemed a bit longer, making his eyes more beautiful. His lips, although chapped, pouted with the way he’s comfy with you.

“Mikey, can you stop being so pretty? It makes me want to kiss you,” you whispered, thinking that Mikey’s probably dozing off to dreamland.

Mikey opened out one of his eyes to take a peek at you. All the sleepiness vanishing from his body. Did he just hear you right? “Then kiss me, Y/N.”

“Heh? Mikey, you’re awake?” you felt embarrassment creeping into you. “Mikey...I...look, sorry. I-”

Your blabbering mouth was silenced with a peck on the lips. Mikey kissing all your worries away.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you. Your foreheads touching and nose brush against each other.

You felt like you’re on cloud nine. Is this real? Mikey likes you too?

Before you could say anything, the door opened with Emma looking at the two of you weirdly. “Hehhh, am I interrupting something?”

You and Mikey looked at Emma. An embarrassed look on both of your faces as if you were caught red-handed.

Now, there’s a lot of explaining to do.

Chifuyu Matsuno

No matter how many times you try, you always seem to lose.

But who won’t?

With Chifuyu’s angelic smile and kind eyes, your determination to admit your feelings for him always seems to waver. It’s just that your thoughts always fly out the window and anxiousness gets the best of you.

You’ve known Chifuyu for quite some time now. Baji, who’s your cousin, introduced him to you as Toman’s 1st Division Vice-Captain and most trusted partner. Of course, it was only natural for you to be wary of him. Baji might trust him, but he could be some sort of drug dealer or serial killer. Who knows?

You’re wrong though. The more time you spend with Chifuyu, the more you appreciate his presence. How can you not? He always lends you a helping hand whenever you need it. As cliche as it sounds, Chifuyu is like the knight and shining armor in your life.

And now here he is. Once again saving you from another horrible situation.

Chifuyu offered you a ride when he found you drenched from the rain in Shinagawa. Apparently, the weather wouldn’t be pleasant today but you forgot to read the weather forecast. Currently, he brought you to his home for the meantime as the rain wouldn’t be stopping until tomorrow.

“I’ll just text and let Baji-san know that you’ll be staying here.” Chifuyu handed you a blanket as he laid on his futon.

“Thank you, Chifuyu. But I swear it’s okay for me to sleep there. This is your bed anyway.” You said embarrassed.

Chifuyu yawned. Tiredness dropping from his eyes. “It’s alright, Y/N. I can’t let Baji-san’s pretty cousin sleep on the floor.” He smiled at you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

You laid on the bed silently. Blushing from his compliment. Did he just call you beautiful?

You looked at the ceiling for about a good minute before turning to Chifuyu. “Chifuyu-san, I-”

A soft sleeping figure cut you off. The light from the lamp outside reflected on his beautiful features.

You padded off your feet on the floor and sat right next to Chifuyu. Observing him, you notice that he looks prettier when he’s peaceful like this.

You hesitatingly brushed your fingers on his hair. While massaging it, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. “I like you, Chifuyu-san.” You smiled proudly at yourself as you finally got to admit your feelings even though he’s asleep.

However, you noticed that the sleeping figure in front of you stiffened and reddened from your statement. Eyes wide, you held a hand in your mouth.

“Chifuyu-san, are you awake?” You hoped that he wasn’t.

But apparently, he is. “I guess you caught me.” Chifuyu sat up and scratched his head as he smiled at you sheepishly. “That felt nice though.”

“I’m sorry!” You bowed your head, hair hiding your flustered state.

“I like it!” Chifuyu panicked. “I mean, no. I like it. But, I like you too, Y/N-san.”

You laughed. At the same time, feeling extremely happy from what you just had heard.

“I guess we have some explaining to do with Baji-san.” you teased him

“Mhmm. But,” he held your hand and put it into his hair. “Would you continue that?” Chifuyu smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled at him, continuing your hair massages.

Looks like you won this time.

Ran Haitani

You’re no medical expert. The only knowledge you got was based on textbooks and first aid knowledge.

Yet somehow, Ran would always come knocking on your door whenever he has cuts or injuries. Sometimes, even without one, he would come by at your place and complain that his body is painful.

And it’s one of those nights again as you hear a soft knock on the door.

Moving to Roppongi, you were warned about the Haitani brothers. How you must stay away from them because they’re just no good. However, you somehow managed to come across the elder Haitani while you were shopping at a local store when he asked you what hair dye he should use.

This little interaction moved from one way to the other and now, ever since Ran found out where you live, he always comes by to let you heal his “injuries”.

You’re not complaining though. Despite the rumors and warnings, Ran was much more different from what other people say. He may be cocky and teasing, but the beautiful man sure is nice when it comes to you.

Causing you to develop a little crush on him.

You opened the door as you welcomed Ran. “Now, what do we have for tonight?”

Ran stepped in as he walked towards the couch. Laying as if he lives around here. “I got a bump on my forehead.” He pointed out as he pouted at you.

“You have Rindou! And you call yourself notorious but you come here whining like a baby.” you rolled your eyes as you got in the kitchen getting an ice pack for the man.

“Here.” You handed out the ice pack as you stood up in front of him.

“No.” Ran rolled his eyes. “Kiss it, Y/N.” he pouted once again.

“You’re not a baby, Ran. Tch.” you sighed as you sat across him. “Take a nap here and I’ll cook for you when you wake up.”

“Now, wifey material aren’t we.” Ran teased as he closed his eyes. Holding the ice packet against his forehead.

About a good 10 minutes have passed and you never heard another bicker from Ran. As you look at him, the man seems to be sleeping like a log.

You crouched down near him. Observing his features. You must say, he’s quite beautiful and more attractive when less chaotic.

“You’re such a big baby.” Thinking that he’s asleep, you kissed the small bump on his forehead.

As you got up to prepare his late dinner, a hand clutched yours.

You felt your body freeze for a moment as you turned around and saw a bastard smiling cockily.

“Do it again, Y/N.” Ran grinned at you as he held on tighter on your hand. “I’m a big baby but your baby.”

“Let me go!.” your face was beat red as you tried to yank off your hands. Only failing as Ran grabbed your arms causing you to fall on top of him.

“I like you, Y/N” Ran hugged you tightly while you were a blushing mess on top of him. “So let's just stay like this for a while.”

And you did.

Being with Ran isn’t so bad after all.

Rindou Haitani

If there’s one thing you’re proud of, it’s the skill you have for coloring people’s hair.

You like dyeing your hair, your friend’s hair, your cousins, and to just anyone who asks for your help. So it was no surprise when Rindou asked you to help him in doing his highlights.

Of course you can’t say no. Not because he is a Haitani but because you actually like his presence. When you’re around him, everything seems more calm and peaceful.

Despite being a menace around Roppongi, you and Rindou are actually good friends. You’ve known each other when he saved your ass around a group of guys who tried to harass you. And although he was stoic to you at first, he was able to ease up to you because of your caring nature.

After all, you recognized him as Rindou Haitani and not “Ran’s younger brother”. And he appreciated you for it.

So now here you are in their living room. Currently finished in dyeing Rindou’s hair.

“And there you have it. We just have to wait for an hour or so before washing it.” You tidied all the mess up as Ran sat and observed you. “By the way, why won’t you let me dye Ran’s hair?”

He raised an eyebrow upon your question. “Because he can’t have you.” Your eyes widened from his statement. Rindou, realizing what he just said, covered it up with an excuse. “I mean, I want him to dye his own hair and let it look shit. If he wants someone to dye his hair properly, he can go to the salon.”

You laughed at his statement. Well, he can actually crack up jokes once in a while if he loosens up his strict facade. “Oh Rindou, we also need to buy an extra conditioner.”

You looked up and saw the man with closed eyes. Deciding that you don’t want to disturb his sleep, you sat quietly beside him and observed him.

Rindou is already handsome with his glasses. But you realized that he looks much cuter without one.

He just looks good in anything.

You traced the bridge of his nose as you admired his features. “You know what? I actually might have feelings for you.” you muttered softly as you smiled.

“Let’s go out on a date then.” Rindou opened his eyes as he looked at you. Your lips a few inches away from his.

“Rindou!!!” You sat up straight. “I thought you were-”

“Asleep? Well I’m not.” he smiled at you as reached out for your hand. “But I meant it Y/N. I like you, and I want us to go on a date.” Rindou looked at you, hoping for an immediate response.

He does like you. After all, you were the only person who he was able to open up to other than Ran.

“Okay.” You smiled as you brushed your thumb at the top of his hand.

Rindou caressed your cheeks. Leaning in and going for a kiss.

“Ohh. Can I join?” a teasing voice butted in. Causing you two to look at the tall man who’s leaning in the doorframe. “I mean can I join Y/N’s dye party? Just continue that later.”

“Ran, get out!” Rindou shouted as he pointed at the door to his brother.

Well, things quickly escalated with the brothers.

As well as your relationship with Rindou.

[archived-kin]

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

[dekinswritings]

Genshin Impact - Princess of the night

The duties of the Outrider division of the Knights of Favonius were as varied as they were plentiful and patrolling Mondstadt at night beyond its city walls was one of them. And her favorite too, nothing beat the soothing feeling of the cool night breeze, or the heart-throbbing feeling of saving a stranger from a monster. Surely, it was the adrenaline of combat, and not how beautiful her golden hair looked against the light of the moon.

Amber/Lumine. 2k. Ch1/3?

[Ao3]

The duties of the Outrider division of the Knights of Favonius were as varied as they were plentiful, but Amber bore every single one of them as its sole remaining member. When she came of age, Acting Grand Master Jean had been kind enough to re-establish the branch for her. Amber knew that, under the grand scheme of things, the Outrider division was only part of the Ordo Favonius, but that only motivated her even more to work hard and return it to its former glory. One day, her grandpa would come back to Mondstadt, and see how the division he had once started still kept on serving all of those in the region, be it its citizens or any travelers who happened to be around.

Had it been a few months ago, Amber had truly felt that might never happen, that she would not ever see him again. But after what just had happened? Dvalin, the ever guardian of Mondstadt, had turned on them; she had met a mysterious traveler and his floating companion in what had been a routinely scouting mission; and had found out that Venti, that drunk of a bard that never seemed to have a fill for liquor, was Lord Barbatos? Anything could happen next, and Amber felt as invigorated as ever to keep up her duties for the Outriders.

It was now a little over a week after the whole Dvalin ordeal had finished. Aether had said goodbye, and left for Liyue to continue on his journey. Amber would have loved to have gone with him (perhaps Liyue held a clue or two about the whereabouts of his grandpa), but she still had her duties to fulfill as an Outrider.

Patrolling Mondstadt at night beyond its city walls was one of those many duties. One always had to be on the lookout for Hilirchurl encampments; if they were too close to the city or too large, they would have to be dealt with. Abyss Mages were also a threat, as they were both dangerous and intelligent, the latter trait something that Hillichurls lacked (Amber swears there have been multiple times where a Hillichurls had slept or played with a butterfly while the rest of its encampment was being dealt with, so they either are not smart, or they simply never cared). Or Reckless Pallad needed saving. Again.

All of these were important reasons to go out patrolling, but really the one that Amber cared most about (not to say she did not care for the safety of Mondstadt and its citizens) was the fact that, as a night patrol, there was no real rush to her task. After a day of sprinting and gliding everywhere, where time was of the essence, nothing beat a walk on Starfell Lake or Starsnatch Cliff with the cool, accompanied by the night breeze and the light of the moon. Lamp grass, her favorite flower, also shone only during nighttime, which was an added bonus.

Of course, she was still on duty, so despite enjoying her night strolls, Amber always kept an eye out for danger and her bow ready to be drawn. Tonight was no different, as she walked up one of the many cliffs of Stormbearer Point. She always made a point of walking up to the highest points of them, as they served as great vantage points for the surrounding area (including the reflected moonlight on the ocean horizon!). Once she made it to the end of the cliffside, Amber held her bangs from blowing into her face from the strong breeze and peered to her surroundings.

A fireplace on one of the openings just beneath the cliffside but got her attention. Normally, people camping out in Mondstadt was not uncommon, but it took a strong body and the will of an adventurer to do it in such a far away place and with such rough terrain such as Stormbearer Point. Amber could barely make out the silhouette of a sleeping figure near the fire, but something else glowed near it... 

Amber knew that only one thing glowed and made a perfect sphere. Whoever was sleeping out there was slowly being crept up by an Abyss Mage! Taking note of how the wind blew her hair, Amber took out her Baron Bunny, looked down and closed one eye, taking aim. As she threw the Baron down, she pulled down her goggles, took a few steps back, jumped off the cliff with a leap, and opened her glider. As she slowly fell down, Amber thanked the Archons that the Abyss Mage had been the icy kind. If the glow of its shield had been orange, her only option would have been to pick up the sleeping person and run for it.

Baron Bunny was the first one to land, immediately catching the Abyss Mage’s attention. The Abyss Mage pulled out its Leyline branch wand, and with a twirl and a swing, summoned forth icicles which Baron Bunny took like a champ. After the fourth one, Baron had enough and lit itself into an explosion, taking the Abyss Mage aback and damaging its shield. Now that she had glided down to a safe altitude, Amber put away her glider and lept down with a rain of arrows. The arrows simply bounced off of the Mage’s shield, but in its confusion, Amber took the chance to focus her vision at its highest intensity and with a Fiery Rain, both destroyed the weakened shield and the Abyss Mage alongside with it once its protection were no more.

Amber let out a sigh of relief, thankful that her attack had hit just the right spots to wipe the Abyss Mage in a single volley. The crackling of the fire left by her attack helped Amber’s heart soothe down from the rush of adrenaline her body had just been pumped with, but it quickly skyrocketed again when she heard movement behind her. In a swift motion, Amber lept away, turned around and drew an arrow, only to find a blonde girl in an intricate white getup, with her hands held up in a resigning manner.

“Um, hello?” she quizzically called out with a clear look of confusion on her face.

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous out here? There are monsters everywhere, so away from the city!” Amber put down her bow.

“And also cute girls with fire Visions and trigger-happy bow and arrows.”

The sudden compliment caught Amber off guard. “D-Don’t…!” Amber cleared her throat, she could not be tripping on her words when she had to perform her duties as an Outrider. “Don’t you know I just saved you? You had an Abyss Mage creeping up on you as you slept!”

The stranger looked even more confused until she glanced at the patch of grass behind Amber on fire. “That explains that, then,” she said as she pointed at the blazes. “By the way, your boot is going to catch on fire.”

“Huh?” Amber looked behind her, and in the jump she had instinctively made just now, her foot had landed inside the fire. In the heat of the moment, she barely noticed the heat (the fire resistance provided by her Vision had not helped either), but now fully aware of it, Amber quickly jumped away from the fire and patted her boot down, making sure it had not been set ablaze.

“A-Anyways…!” There she went, tripping on her words again. “It’s dangerous out here! You should come with me to Mondstadt.”

“And… you are…?”

“Oh!” How could she forget, again?! She had completely forgotten to introduce herself in front of Aether about a month ago, and now she was doing it once more. “I am Amber, Outrider for the Knights of Favonius!” Amber straightened her back and did the Favonius salute, fist to her chest.

“Nice to meet you, Amber, Outrider for the Knights of Favonius,” The stranger repeated, putting her hand on her chest too.

“May the Anemo God protect you, stranger.” Well, Amber was planning to do the protection, but it was part of the Knight’s code to say that line.

“Please, call me…” The girl paused for a moment, before nodding to herself. “Ying.”

“Alright… Ying.” Amber was not too convinced with her name, but Ying looked suspicious right from her getup. “You’re not of Mondstadt, are you, Ying? Explain yourself.”

“So inquisitive… is that how things work in this region?” Ying wondered out loud, but before Amber had the chance to answer, she continued. “I’m just a traveler, out to see the worlds. I had heard of a Dragon being sighted in Mondstadt, so I arrived not too long ago to witness it.”

Dvalin? Certainly it had to be Dvalin, very few dragons lived in the modern day. Perhaps news of the Dvalin attacks on Mondstadt had spread across Teyvat, but not of its stop. “Where do you hail from, Ying?”

“Very far away. Further away from what you can see on the horizon.” Ying turned to face the ocean, and the way the moon illuminated her golden hair made her look ethereal, like she came from another world.

“Sounds like a very long trip to come here to Mondstadt.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess it took a while. I’ve been traveling for so long that the journeys don’t matter too much, only what’s in the end.” For a moment, Amber could see a hint of sadness in Ying’s eyes.

Now it felt so much harder to tell her that Dvalin had kept to itself in Stormterror’s Lair for weeks now, and that Dvalin only made itself present on rare occasions.

“And what are you doing out here, Miss Outrider for the Knights of Favonius?”

“Amber is just fine. I was simply on a nightly patrol, keeping an eye out for danger and monsters, and saving people from said dangers, like I just did with you! Now, come. We should get you into the city, it’s not safe out here.”

“I think you cleared out all the monsters around her already, Amber. And besides, the Fatui are in the city, no? I… don’t like them.” Ying sighed and sat down near the fireplace. “I’m safer out here than I’ll be in there with them.”

“Well...” Amber knew very well how much more dangerous the Fatui were when compared to some lowly hillichurls or a few Abyss Mages, and the way Ying spoke made Amber feel like she had some reasons to dislike them, just like Collei. “I won’t force you to come, if you really feel that way.”

“Thanks.” Ying offered Amber a smile, one that the Outrider could not take her eyes off of. “And besides, if I ever need to be rescued, the Outrider for the Knights of Favonius will come to the rescue, right?”

Never had Amber felt embarrassed by her own title, but these past few months had been a lot of first times for her. “J-Just be careful out here, okay? I need to get back to my patrols.”

“Right, I’ll keep an eye out, Amber. May the Anemo God protect you too.”

With a salute, Amber bid farewell to the stranger she had just met, and made haste to get back to her patrol route. With her short skirmish with the Abyss Mage long over, why had the adrenaline rush not gone away? If Amber did not know any better, she would say her heart was about to fly out of her chest.

__________________________________________________________

“Did I really call myself Ying... Cute girls will be the end of me…” Ying said to herself as she rubbed the temples of her head. Standing up, she walked up to the burnt grass left by Amber and picked up the Leyline branch the Abyss Mage had left in its demise.

“I wanted to travel alone here, but someone just had to insist they had to come along…” Ying shook her head and pocketed the Leyline branch.

“Aether has made some very cute friends, hasn’t he?”

Now, Lumine just had to get Amber to rescue her again, but how will she do it next time?

[jate-kara]

Hi jate, From the prompt list- “ please stay” with Rex and ahsoka, the best sibling duo of Star Wars 🥺

suum ca'nara | on AO3

from this prompt list

suum ca'nara: the state of blissful rest and peace

In the wake of the war's end, Rex and Ahsoka find refuge on Mandalore.

--

“Hey, this is a pretty nice shop you’ve got, kid.”

He can’t hear the sigh, but he knows she gives one. Ahsoka’s underneath a speeder. Just the tips of her montrals are visible. “Do you have to say that every day?” she asks, muffled. There’s a loud thud. She swears viciously. “Just a second!”

Rex props his hip against the closest workbench, then folds his arms across his chest. Ahsoka struggles, inch by scrabbling inch, out from beneath her latest project.

“Why?” she asks, once she’s free. Her coveralls are coated in grease. She swipes her hands across them anyway. “Why do you say that every day?”

“Why don’t you get a rolling cart?” Rex asks. “It’d make getting under the speeder a lot easier.”

“I’ll get a cart when you get a girlfriend,” she grumbles, and rubs at her temple. It must be where she hit her head. Instinctively, Rex reaches out. She swats his hand away.

“It’s just a bruise,” she grouses, but there’s a teasing softness to it. Rex passes her a rag from the workbench to clean her hands. She takes it and scrubs absently at the grease spot on her arm.

“Speaking of girlfriends,” Rex says. “Where’s yours?”

“Kaeden isn’t my girlfriend,” she says, and slings the rag back at him. Rex ducks. Ahsoka scowls. He chuckles.

“Sure,” he says. “That’s why she’s in here every day, sometimes twice.”

“That’s not because of me,” Ahsoka says. “It’s because Miara likes to go through my scraps. She uses them for her…projects.”

“Call them what they are,” Rex says dryly. “Bombs.”

“They’re locks,” she corrects, but she doesn’t sound completely convinced. “The…explosive device…she puts on the lock is just a deterrent. For if anyone tries to break in, that is.”

Rex shakes his head. The refugees from the late-war Separatist attack on Raada have settled in just fine on Mandalore. Most of them have taken up residence on the outskirts, closer to the fields they till and sow. Satine has established a system to incorporate them into Mandalore’s agricultural community. The plot of land she gave to Rex and his brothers, and by extension Ahsoka, sits a few miles from the farmers’ homesteads. More often than not, these days, their sunset strolls take them closer and closer to the fields’ soft waves. Ahsoka claims it’s because she finds nature’s motion soothing. Rex knows better.

“What did you do at the Academy today?” Ahsoka asks, already moving around her shop: replacing tools, sealing windows, checking doors. Rex shrugs.

“Trained some kids,” he says, like he does every day. This is their routine. “Korkie’s got a lot of potential. He might be the best in the group if he’d shut up long enough to finish a sparring match.”

Ahsoka’s laugh is like sunlight. “He is, in every way, Master Obi-Wan’s son,” she says.

Interesting that she still calls Kenobi that, given that he’s been expelled from the Order. Rex doesn’t raise it. Skywalker keeps insisting Rex call him ‘Anakin’ and not ‘Skywalker’ or ‘General,’ and every time they talk he has to bite back the formal address. Old habits die hard.

“The kid needs to learn to shut up,” Rex repeats. “He almost lost a tooth today because he wanted to taunt more than he wanted to fight.”

“Maybe he was negotiating.”

“He’s going to negotiate himself into an early grave.”

“We’re not at war, Rex.”

“I’m going to put him there myself,” Rex says. Not for the first time, he’s glad Cody and the 212th were assigned Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that the 501st got Skywalker instead. “He’s a good kid, but he can be completely insufferable.”

Ahsoka’s eyes twinkle. She latches the final window. Rex follows her outside and stands, shifting from foot to foot, while she locks the door. The street behind him is quiet except for the pedestrian traffic. At this hour and in this sector, it’s sparse, but he still finds himself scanning. Watching. Waiting. Clearing zones.

A hand lands on his shoulder. He jumps. “Relax,” Ahsoka says, and flashes a smile at him. “It’s just me.”

“I know,” Rex says, and clears his throat. He jerks his head toward the street. “You ready to go?”

The speeder is a short walk from Ahsoka’s shop. Rex climbs into the pilot’s seat. Once they’re outside the central city limits, he guns it. Ahsoka gives a cry of delight and stands to lift her face to the wind. He’d tell her to sit back, to stay down, but he’s seen her launch herself out of gunships in the upper atmosphere, darting from one to the other as if she was dancing a song into the sky.

It’s good to see her safe and so alive.

Rex doesn’t slow down until they reach their home. It’s so small against the sunset burning on the horizon. Rex climbs across the speeder and lands on Ahsoka’s side. Before she can protest, he wraps his arms around her and swings her up and out, twirling her about until they’re both unsteady on their feet and he has to stop.

“Thanks,” she says, through a wide grin. “Now I’m dizzy.”

Rex presses an obnoxious kiss to her forehead. “Sorry, vod’ika,” he says, and doesn’t mean it.

“Hey, Rex!” Fives yells from the doorway. “Are you gonna torture Ahsoka for another hour, or are you gonna come inside and eat?”

Rex snorts and crosses the space between them. “An hour,” he says, and locks his arm across Fives’ chest to drag him into a playful headlock. Fives squawks. Rex ruffles his hair. “Really, Fi’ika.”

“One day,” Echo says from the kitchen down the hall, “you’re gonna have to stop calling him that.”

“Why?” Rex asks.

“Because I’m not a kid,” Fives grumbles. There’s no vitriol to it, just begrudging affection. Rex lets go and follows him to the kitchen. “Fi’ika’s what you started calling me after Rishi.”

“Exactly,” Rex says. “I can’t just let it go now.”

“But he was a shiny then. He’s kind of outgrown the name,” Hardcase says. He’s perched on a stool at the counter. Dogma’s beside him, intensely focused on weaving Tup’s curly hair into a braid. Fives taps Tup’s shoulder on his way by, then elbows Dogma.

“Hey,” Dogma hisses. “I had it that time.”

“The thing was falling apart,” Jesse refutes, unconcerned. “You definitely didn’t have it.”

“I was closer, though!”

Tup holds up a datapad and uses the dark screen like a mirror. “Better,” he agrees, and Dogma shakes his head and moves back in to try again.

“Not letting it go,” Rex repeats, after they’ve settled. Fives groans.

“It’s not the worst thing he could call you,” Ahsoka says. “He used to call me ‘littl‘un’.”

“You were really tiny when we first met you, to be fair,” Kix says.

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “No,” she says, as if by denying the truth she can somehow dissuade them. “What’s for dinner, Fives?”

Fives launches into an unnecessarily long explanation of an otherwise easily describable meal. Ahsoka looks transfixed. Rex rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the counter beside her. Once he’s sure she’s well and truly distracted by Fives’ tirade, he wraps his arms around her and drags her into a crushing hug.

“I’ll let go when he finally shuts up,” Rex says. “Could be a while.”

Ahsoka laughs quietly. She does that so much more, lately. “By all means,” she says, “please stay.”

And he does.

--

[bubmyg]

trophy - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: lawyer!au, established relationship, fluff, angst but it’s not really related to the couple, implications of misogyny/sexism, angry yoongi is a warning right?, ft intern jeongguk, also ft yoongi’s ass in dress pants

word count:  2,440

summary: in which you hold your own against yoongi’s clients or i won’t ask again. leave.

Somewhere between shoving earrings through weeping, pierced skin, swiping the wrong color to your lips, and centering the chain of a necklace, a disconnected pair of hands worked at the cool zipper fitting to your spine with each ascending link, lips connected to those hands pressing to your shoulder while a soft voice told the cusp of your ear you’re beautiful. 

You shared the sentiment when you routinely looped a tie, classic black, around Yoongi’s neck, letting him knot it but taking the extra step to straighten it on his throat (a step you normally avoided in the mornings when the people he’d be interacting with were limited to Jeongguk and an elderly landlord with a difficult tenant in his apartment complex), lips landing on the heated apple of his cheek to profess, “Handsome.”

And when he turned in the bathroom mirror, your eyes traveled to the generous stretch of fabric on his ass, “Is this how you woo all your clients?”

He had to lift on his toes to peer closer in the mirror anyway, a teasing lift of his eyebrows at your reflection as delicate index fingers continued to fiddle with styled fringe, “I don’t know. You can ask them tonight, if you like.”

“I’d rather not find out that Janet from accounting that you helped with divorce papers last week thinks your ass is nice,” You leaned into the doorframe, easy smile laced on your lips. 

Yoongi mirrored your expression as he brushed past you in route to snatch his suit jacket where it was meticulously sprawled across the edge of the bed, making a point to pause, dramatically swing his arm backward, and get a handful of his own ass. 

“It’s all yours, anyway.”

And somewhere between realizing this party wasn’t filled with Janet’s from accounting but rather assholes from Yoongi’s various corporate partners, the jewelry swaying off your ears seemed to pick up a five pound dumbbell on each side, lipstick flaking it sizable chunks onto your tongue, and necklace drowning in the clamminess that sprung underneath the collar of your dress. 

The rectangle of cheese delicately clutched in your fingertips tasted sour next to the clump of toothpaste still clinging to your back molars and the visible wince on your features and the half eaten block of sharp cheddar made you long for pained dinner parties with business sharks who had Yoongi at their every beck and call if trouble ever were to arise within their companies where you could simply excuse yourself to your kitchen and feed Holly the disgusting hunk of fucking cheese. 

Your closest thing to Holly was a one Jeon Jeongguk, irises rounded like the cheap chandeliers barely emitting any light into the banquet room of some building placed just inches away from a golf course. You flaked away the parts your teeth had touched with a delicate fingernail, uncaring as you smashed the bits into the velvet, forest green carpet below the sole of your shoe as your path became purposeful for the lanky intern clutching a champagne glass in white knuckles.  

You nudged his arm once you reached him. “Alright?”

Jeongguk barely confirmed it was you and half considered the object you stretched out to him, stressed mind registering food! and snatching it to push between puffed cheeks, mumbling a fine and thanks all the same as he chewed. He swallowed, seeming to calm at the amused and comforting smile you offered when he glanced at you. “Sorry…” He tried this time, sheepish as the smallest sliver of his teeth appeared. You followed his gaze as it flitted away from you, slow in pivoting a short distance across the room to the small group of men gathered just beyond a table full of empty chairs. 

You noticed Yoongi first, the other faces vaguely familiar, but Yoongi’s easy stance, sat into his hip with one knee slightly bent, glass of water clutched in loose fingertips almost empty, wrist swirling the last of it at the bottom as he nodded along to the dialog of one of the other men, cracking an easy smile paired with something, a joke apparently, that earned an audible melody of chuckles. You couldn’t help but smile too, some sort of proud fond swelling your heart into your throat but you tended to Jeongguk first. 

“You can go over there, you know.”

Jeongguk peered at you like you’d grown a second nose on your forehead, covering the feigned shock with a cough and he shook his head, “No...it’s okay. Maybe later.”

“He’s proud of you, you know,” You patted the younger man’s arm, “I’m sure he’d love to brag on you. What’s that called? Networking? And with your reference in person!”

Jeongguk laughed, shoving his free hand deep in the pocket of his dress pants and one curly hair escaped from where he’d styled it over his ears, “Maybe...have you met them yet?”

“Not them specifically. I’ve met some people here.”

Another laugh, this one more tender and Jeongguk nudged you back this time, eyes soft under a lidded gaze, “You should go over there. He’s probably talking about you, anyway.”

Something burned at your skin, paired to your oversized heart still throbbing in your throat and you coughed when your chin dropped, shy at Jeongguk’s admission. You recovered with a shrug, scuffing your foot into the carpet floor and more cheese trailed in its wake. “Eh, probably not.”

Stupid cliche’ timing called your name in the form of Yoongi’s voice and you found three pairs of eyes resting on you, the one of home negating the scrutiny of the other two. Your joints seemed to lock you in place and it was only Jeongguk’s teasing told you so in your ear that had you shuffling a step forward at the beckon of Yoongi’s encouraging smile and outstretched hand. 

“Come with me,” You managed to corral at the last second and you twisted your fingers in the cuffed fabric at Jeongguk’s wrist to yank him the first few steps after you, releasing him with an easy smile directed only at your husband as you took his hand when you came close enough.

Yoongi pulled you against his side, dropping a kiss to your temple as he murmured, “How are you?” against your skin. You squeezed his hand in response, opposite hand stretching for the man closest to you, customer service smile happily in disguise. 

“Chang Jung,” The first informed, tight lipped and tight gripped. 

“Park Heechul,” The second lingered, eyes cast across your face as he gripped your hand in two palms for longer than necessary, “and you must be the wife Mr. Min speaks so highly of.”

You subconsciously shuffled closer to Yoongi’s side, the soft bump of your presence making him defer to the swaying figure beyond your shoulder, “And this is my intern, Jeon Jeongguk. Very talented, probably did the bulk of the paperwork you all have received in the past few months.”

Another few easy chuckles. Mr. Chang, the more soft spoken of the two elicited the quieting of the laughter by speaking between the two of you. 

“So, you two attended the same universities?”

Yoongi nodded, “Undergrad and beyond.”

“A great masters program in business goes in tandem with a university that has an excellent law school, I suppose,” You agreed and another discreet squeeze to your hand had your shoulders setting when you were addressed for the first time by Mr. Park. 

“We understand you work with...animals?” His gaze shifted to Yoongi who was already nodding. The snort that came from deep within his nasal cavity didn’t settle right with you as he continued, “...what exactly does that entail?”

“I don’t directly handle the animals. I make it so the great individuals at all the shelters in the area have the means and funds and paychecks to be able to handle animals,” The ease that came with talking about your passions helped you along, “I work in finance but my specialty is nonprofit. The vast majority of my clientele are the animal shelters in the region. I attract and manage funds for them. Essentially.”

“Ah,” You glared at the bob of the man’s throat as he took a disinterested gulp of his wine, “Charity.” 

“Animal shelter employees are paid?” Mr. Chang spoke, “I thought that was on a volunteer basis?”

“Some are, some aren’t. Each is different in what they receive as far as tax dollars, city funding, the like,” You frowned, “Running a successful animal shelter is a full time operation, sir.”

“I guess I need to check where my tax dollars are going,” Mr. Park laughed as if it were a joke and as if he had a choice or say in the matter. “And you, dear, I can almost assure would make more by simply becoming his secretary.”

Yoongi tensed next to you but you spoke before he could, bristling on the verge of your patience, “I help when he needs me to. Doesn’t require me being on the payroll.”

“Speaking of help, I hear you’re a fantastic cook,” Mr. Park considered the empty table beyond him, a nearby plate clean aside from a few crumbs decorating the lipped edges, “Was the pork your recipe?”

You shouldered the insinuation, knowing Yoongi certainly didn’t sell you as a housewife with a knack for a stack of untouched cookbooks displayed on some rack in the middle of an expensive kitchen island. 

“I’m not on the payroll but I’m informed enough to know we have enough of a budget to hire a caterer for that,” You nodded, smile on your lips a line of cordiality. 

“Feisty too,” Mr. Park’s eyebrows lifted as Mr. Chang began to chortle along with him, “We could use someone like you at my company, answering phone calls, filtering out the particularly difficult patrons…”

You didn’t realize you’d let go of Yoongi’s hand until you hit his elbow in route to cross your arms over your chest. 

“With absolutely no respect at all, Mr. Park—” You bristled into the widest smile you’d cracked the entire interaction, “—I believe I’m overqualified to work at any position at your company. Particularly yours.” A curt wave of the top hand folded over your chest and you quipped, “Have a good evening.” before fleeing off into the dim room. 

Yoongi barely glanced at Jeongguk, an unspoken request to go after you while he tended to the mess before him. The decision was easy, and he approached it with the powerful aura that encompassed his previously relaxed state, seeping into the way a veined appendage was pointed in placing his glass of water down on the table, fingers folding at his belt buckle as he sucked air in and out through his nose. 

“As my wife put it,” Yoongi started, smile not quite reaching his teeth like yours had but similar in meaning all the same, “With absolutely zero respect, sirs, I think it’s unspoken that our contract is terminated. I suggest you seek out another attorney to handle your affairs.”

“Mr. Min, there was no offense meant by—”

Yoongi held up a steady palm the other fishing for the chair Mr. Park had previously been seated in, easily sliding it until it touched the table cloth fluttering off the table. “I also suggest that you leave. Immediately.”

Another laugh, cocky at best, slipped into the two hands Mr. Park held up now. “Can’t we speak about this as men?” 

The smile met Yoongi’s teeth now, leaning a fraction closer to the older man. 

“I won’t ask again.”

Jeongguk was stationed in front of the bathroom door like a coondog who’d just treed a frightened animal except the roles were reversed. He was the frightened animal, eyes growing wider as Yoongi’s purposeful stride approached and when he pointed to the door, Yoongi broke into a jog, shrugging past his younger friend to shoulder his way through the swinging door. 

The singular stall door was closed, your earrings abandoned on the lip of the sink bowl, phone and purse on the tiny couch with unidentified stains dotting the blue velvet. 

“It’s me,” He breathed after a moment, knuckles gentle on the locked door. 

“Can’t come to the phone right now,” He would have smiled if he wouldn’t have heard the clear sniffle in your voice. “Try again later.”

So he paused, knocked after a dozen heartbeats, and then, “This is later. Hello? Is anyone home?”

The door opened to your red eyes and defeated stature, shoulders slumped as you tried to smile through the tracks of liquid still slipping down the slope of your cheeks. It barely twitched high enough to be considered a smirk until it broke again, directly preceding the step you took to get to Yoongi. 

“Did you kick their asses?”

Yoongi laughed, genuine as his palm cradled the back of your head against his rumbling chest, “No. But I wanted to.”

“You should have,” You clutched the lapels of his jacket as he walked your statures backward, falling gently to the tiny couch, “I would have bailed you out of jail.”

He shifted you in his embrace, hugging you against his side as you kicked your shoes off to curl completely into him. Lips found your forehead this time, “Violence is never the answer but...I would have enjoyed seeing you sock one of them in the face. Both, preferably, but one good punch would have sufficed me for at least a couple years.”

A tiny laugh emitted from your lips, but it sobered when your voice broke in a whisper, simple in your obvious feelings but it broke Yoongi’s heart all the same.

“I didn’t like that.”

“I’m always proud of you, you know that, right? I’m continuously awed and inspired by you,” Yoongi took your face in his hands, swiping at fresh tears that angrily curled into your skin to look directly into your eyes, “I love you.”

You sniffled unattractively and you were partially kidding but the largest part of you in that moment helped you inquire, “I’m not just your trophy wife, huh?”

His chaste kiss lingered on the softness of your lips, mumbling between the seam of your mouth, “Absolutely not. Don’t let two dumbasses belittle the high regard I hold you in but especially not your opinion of yourself.”

“You’re badass, angel,” Yoongi’s lips pressed against your cheek, rubbing your nose with his as he grinned, gums and all, “If anything, I’m the trophy husband.”

You buried yourself in his neck, smile hidden against his shoulder, “Flattering ourselves, are we?”

“...but frankly, your ass doesn’t disagree with that label—”

[jincherie]

tentacledipity | four

tentacledipity | four

➛pairing: jimin x reader

➛genre: alien au, space au, soulmate au, wanted au, smut (coming)

➛rating: sfw

➛words: 8.1k

➛warnings: none! well, a sprinkle of grinding and tentacle mentions but other than that *shrugs*

➛notes: finished this in the early hours of the morning so please dont mind any spelling or grammar mistakes if there are any pls & thank u!! also thank u for being so patient, uni isn’t kicking my ass per se but it’s definitely taking up a lot of my time these days! i hope u all like the next does of tentacle adventures!

ps; I will add links at a later date! pls enjoy & lmk what u think!

This tale starts, as any good fiction does, with a girl crash landing on a foreign planet. And, like any good fiction, it follows a theme of serendipitous happening, and tentacles. Behold, serendipity and tentacles— or dare we call it…. tentacledipity.

— posted; 23.04.2019 // ↞ prev. || four || next ↠

“What, you’re not even going to try and stop me?”

At your question, the two males shared an exasperated look.

“Well, no,” Jongin answered plainly, pointing an accusatory finger your way as he narrowed his eyes halfheartedly. “What is the point? You are just going to get away, anyway.”

Your incredulous gaze was drawn to Jongdae next, as he continued where his partner left off. He seemed entirely too pleased with himself, lips curled in a smug, kittenish grin and his expression sly, marks coloured light yellow. “Besides, we are no longer required to watch you. We have been relieved of our duties. Which, personally, I am more than glad for. I think I have aged more than ten sweeps from the stress alone of trying to keep track of you. Really, are all humans so slippery?”

“No, probably not. Just me.” You shrugged in answer, before his earlier words caught your attention and you gaped. “Wait—what do you mean ‘relieved of your duties’? I’m free?”

Jongin shrugged, stretching indolently across the cushioned swing that you’d found him and Jongdae reclining on, out on a patio near your rooms, when you’d attempted to sneak out of the wing. Now that you thought about it, they did have a particularly carefree air right now, something you weren’t really expecting considering how wired you’ve seen them some days.  Jongdae swung one leg over the other, completely lax. The action left you in a state of shock, almost.

You continued to sputter for a moment, your brain unable to comprehend the sudden change in the status quo. Sure, this whole time you’d protested the fact that they thought you needed babysitting—ignoring the fact that it was thanks to an incident that came about thanks to you being a dumbass. But, if you weren’t under ‘watch’ anymore… who were you going to have fun evading and escaping? This was the highlight of your days sometimes, what were you going to do now that you couldn’t do it anymore? This felt like a big disruption to the routine you’d established here.

“Do not know, do not care,” Jongdae smiled at you. “We have not been told what will be happening.”

“Wh-what so I’m just, I’m just supposed to sneak around and pretend there are people trying to catch me?” you burst, feeling a little indignant. They should have consulted you first! This was unfair. “Who am I supposed to torment when I’m bored? Who am I supposed to trick with sweets and flee while they’re distracted?!”

Jongin lurched forward, eyes wide. “So you ADMIT that you did that to trick us!”

“No!” you wailed, mournfully. You turned away, dramatic as they likely expected you to be. “They were friend gifts… but I guess they mean nothing now. I’m… I’m leaving. I’m ending my friendship with you two. I’ll…I’ll find some other guard friends— better guard friends— who will chase me as long as I want them to!”

You stomped your foot, fighting a smile at the sound of their barely restrained snorts. You give them a half-hearted glare over your shoulder before turning and yelling, “Don’t look for me! You won’t find me!”

The second you started to walk away they could no longer hold their laughter and the sound of it makes you grin as you retreat down the hall, not bothering to try and sneak as you had earlier now that you knew no one was there to catch you. It was oddly liberating, to be honest, and you didn’t quite know what to do with the freedom. Maybe that’s because even when they were ‘watching’ you, you weren’t exactly restricted. Really, it was a wonder Jimin made them try for so long when it clearly had little to no effect.

Your arms swung a bit as you walked, a bounce in your step. You can’t even remember where you were going in the first place now. It wouldn’t surprise you at all if you didn’t even have a destination in mind when you left your room, actually. You’d been a bit lost in your thoughts lately.

There was a certain someone to blame for it.

As usual, the source of your dilemmas and deep-thinking was the ever-elusive Mister Jimin. Except, after the events of the other night in the hall, which were still painfully fresh in your memory, he had lost his right to the ‘elusive’ title. He hadn’t been bothering to try and avoid you any longer, something that kind of made you want to scream. It was what you wanted, yes, but not quite so soon and so intensely. You’d been in withdrawal for weeks and then he’d gone and given you such a big hit at once that you weren’t ready for it. You’d probably need another three weeks to come to terms with the male’s sudden flip that night and following one-eighty change in behaviour.

You were a little ashamed and excited to admit that he’d completely turned the tables and now you were the one frazzled and flustered. You couldn’t see his face in the halls—an alarmingly much more common occurrence after that night—without thinking of how it had felt when he pushed you to the wall, the way his body slotted so perfectly against yours. Every time your thoughts strayed to the memory the very same butterflies you felt that night returned with renewed vigour and you were flustered all over again.

Was this how he felt? All those times you tried so hard to fluster him? God, perhaps you were more annoying than you initially accepted.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the fact that the dynamic between you had shifted so suddenly and so sharply. Admittedly, that night if he had asked you to get on you hands and knees you wouldn’t have even blinked before doing so. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice…. They brought out a side of you that didn’t see the light of day that often. Honestly, you’d spent a lot of nights reflecting on what happened and you’d since realised that there wasn’t much that you wouldn’t let that man do to you.

Even so, you weren’t a submissive person by nature, despite your inclination in the bedroom, and you really didn’t want him to think that was the case. You wanted to give back as good as you got, and every time you left your room you steeled yourself to doing so should you run across him.

Except it was a little easier said than done. Despite your affirmations, the second you caught sight of him the butterflies would return and you’d turn tail and run. It was shameful, and you were incredibly embarrassed at your own behaviour. Your mother didn’t raise a coward! It was just that, perhaps, you were a little more rattled and flustered than you allowed yourself to believe.

You realised you needed to be more firm with yourself, though. You needed to make yourself stay and interact with him or you’d never get over the ridiculous butterflies or the way your heart flipped and your pulse started to race. Again, today, you steeled yourself and resolved yourself to sit through the suffering if you happened to run into him again. At the slight tone of flustered panic that ran through you at the thought, you were quick to reassure yourself that it actually wasn’t that likely you’d run into him at all.

Well, historically you had been prone to being proven wrong when assuming such things and today wasn’t an exception.

In your wandering of the halls like a ghost with unresolved business in the material plane, looking for something to entertain yourself with, you happened to walk past a room that had a number of funky sounds coming from within. Intrigued and able to smell entertainment from probably a mile away, you were eager to investigate once you saw that the door was slightly ajar.

When you pushed it open, you quickly realised that you probably should have waited and listened to the sounds a bit more first. But, well, you were nothing if not an idiot and at this point, you were at peace with it.

“Stop! Stop, I am too old for this! Gods, Jiminie, where do you get all this energy from?!”

Confused as to exactly what you just walked into, you leant against the doorframe as you watched Seokjin bend over slightly with his hands on his knees to brace himself. He was wearing a different sort of clothing than you’ve seen before, the fit and material resembling more fitness-wear than anything. His breath came in short pants, apparently winded from whatever he and the other male had been doing before you walked in. Which, you realised quickly from the weapons along the wall and the cushioning along the ground, was… fighting?

Seokjin rattled something out in his native tongue and Jimin burst into laughter from where he stood, stretching a few feet away. He was dressed similarly to Seokjin and god if it wasn’t the most mouth-watering image you’d ever seen in your entire life. Deep blue material complimented his honey skin and raven hair perfectly, not that you thought there would be a colour that didn’t suit Jimin. His marks were a delighted summer yellow and the apples of his cheeks were flushed in slight exertion. Seokjin was in a similar state but unfortunately for him you were too whipped for Jimin to appreciate it as you should have.

Jimin said something you couldn’t understand to the elder male, who burst out loudly in response, “I have duties, you @#&@)#! Not all of us can do whatever we want, you know, I am the one stuck with the royal duties today! Find someone else to help you.”

Jimin was grinning, but seemed a bit disappointed at Seokjin’s answer to whatever he had said. A part of you wandered exactly what Seokjin had called him and you regretted that you didn’t know much kelkoe at all. Seokjin let out a pained noise as he stretched, closing his eyes, and all of a sudden you were overcome with the realisation that you were in the same room, in very close proximity, with Jimin.

Instantly, as you expected, the butterflies returned full-force to barrage the walls of your stomach. The sudden nerves made you feel bit nauseous and at once you felt the familiar urge to turn tail and flee.

No, you bit back the flight aspect of your fight or flight response. No, you said you wouldn’t run, and you wouldn’t. You needed to claim back a bit of control in the new dynamic you’d found yourself in with Jimin and damn it if you didn’t do it now then you never would. So, you did what you usually did whenever you had to do something not so desirable to you at the time and turned your brain off.

“Find someone to help him with what?”

The attention of the two males was instantly on you, Seokjin instantly appearing a cross between amused and sly. You didn’t like that one bit, and quickly raked your eyes over the other male. A mistake—he was surprised at first but the way his features melted into a curious look and his eyes darkened into molten pools almost made your knees week, like you were experiencing your first crush all over again. God, damn it. This was harder than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but wonder if he recalled the events of the other night upon seeing you, like you did every time you saw him.

“Sparring,” Seokjin supplied a little too merrily, and it was almost like you could see the cogs turning in his head. “Kelkie have a lot of restless energy, so it is common practice and customary to have a sparring partner.”

“You two are sparring partners?” you queried, trying desperately to appear much less nervous than you were. Your voice didn’t tremble, so that was something, and at least you weren’t blushing. Yet.

Seokjin’s lips curled into a sly simper. “No, Jimin’s sparring partner is the King, actually. But, since His Majesty is still on leave and Jimin has had an awful lot of… pent up energy, lately, I have taken to being his partner in the meantime.”

Jimin shot the older male a glare at his words, and you couldn’t deny the stupid ripple of giddy hope that dared to bubble within you for a moment. You thought he’d say something to protest his words, anticipating banter, but were caught off guard when his gaze simply returned to you and you felt like you were suddenly in the spotlight once more. Your heart stuttered—shit, damn it. Stupid attractive alien. Your brain was still turned off so that you could remain riding a wave of pretend bravery, and you scrambled to make the most of it and recover.

“So, you need someone to spar with?” You looked to Jimin, interest and excitement leaking into your tone—and it wasn’t fake, in the least, despite your nerves. You almost kicked yourself for what you said next, though, a little too brave for your current state of hidden fluster. “I used to spar with my shipmates when we had long trips, it was always a lot of fun. I’ll spar with you.”

Very bold words from you since you knew how much stronger and faster kelkie were than you—you’d witnessed it one time when you tried to fix a piece of hair that was pulling your scalp from one of Joy’s hairstyles and she’d positively vaulted across the room at breakneck speed to smack your hands away.

Seokjin positively grinned, but Jimin’s face fell into an expression of protest. His dark brows drew together, lips tugging down at the corners.

“No,” he refused immediately, “You will get yourself hurt. I cannot spar with you.”

You sputtered, indignant, and felt a bit of your usual confidence return to you as you pushed from the door and walked forward a little bit. “What? Mister Jimin… are you afraid a weak little human is going to best you in combat? I suppose I understand, the shame for you would be unbearable…”

You’d poked the bear expecting him to continue resisting and refuting you, but to your complete and utter surprise the male’s expression shifted once more, his mouth snapping shut and jaw tensing as his eyes bore into you with a new sort of intensity. That look spelt trouble for you and boy if it didn’t send the most giddy, excited shiver down your spine. Were you perhaps a masochist? This might be the time Jimin finally snapped and killed you for being annoying but you couldn’t think of anything but how hot he looked and how good it would feel even if his hand did end up around your thr—

“That is an excellent idea!” Seokjin was quick to express his avid support, but you got the feeling from the shit-eating grin that never left his flushed face that he had an ulterior motive besides backing you up like a good friend. “There you go Jimin, nip that stress in the bud. I am off now, I have many duties to attend to. Don’t play too rough, children.”

With that he bounced, leaving you and a silent Jimin in his wake. You were still reeling from the abruptness of his departure when there was movement from the corner of your eye and you whipped to see Jimin walking further into the room. You could feel a shift in the air, a new sort of tension that tingled along the base of your spine and made your breath catch. Keep it cool, keep it cool— you needed to tip the scales back into balance.

“Weapons?”

You’d begun to walk further into the room to join Jimin, but froze in your steps at the sound of his voice. It was deeper, rougher than you’d anticipated—he’s back was still to you and though you couldn’t see his face you saw the tension in his shoulders and along firm lines of his back. The shirt was slim-fitting and clung to his form everywhere except the sides where, from about halfway down, the material sported a slit. You guessed it was so he didn’t get too stuffy and so didn’t pay it any mind.

You steeled yourself, summoning some of the confidence that had returned to you so fleetingly earlier, and moved closer, stretching as you did so. “None is fine.”

His jaw ticked as he sent you a curious glance over his shoulder before giving a short nod and turning to face you better. This was the first time you’d been in his presence for longer than three seconds since that night and you felt an absolute mess with each second more that ticked over. Fuck, it was fine, everything was fine. You just had to hold it together a little longer then your nerves would wear off and you’d be back to normal. Probably.

As he settled into a loose pose, readying himself for another ‘sparring’ session, his eyes wept slowly over your form. You squared your shoulders and kept the playful smile on your lips, doing your absolute best to ignore the frantic pattering of your heart against your ribcage. You relished the way his eyes darkened as you stretched your back and your shirt rode up a sliver, providing him the barest peek of your skin. You could tell as you slipped into a loose pose of your own that from the tension he still held in his form, he wasn’t going to be using his full strength on you at all.

You had no doubt he was going to go as easy on you as he could.

But then, if he wasn’t using all his strength and speed, how would he be releasing the pent up tension that these sessions were meant to relieve? He wouldn’t be, so there must have been another reason he was about to humour you and ‘spar’ with you. Your mind ticked it over for a bare second before it registered.

He was playing chicken with you.

Something had changed in him since your last encounter, after you finally seemed to push him over a line of sorts. He was no longer resisting, no longer flustering and growing embarrassed—he was poking and prodding back just as you had done to him from the beginning.

You nearly balked at the realisation, but schooled your features just in time. He wanted to tease, to play? Well, lucky for him playing and teasing was what you did best. A wave of excitement washed over you. Your nerves all but disappeared as you resolved yourself, intending to use this opportunity and treat him as you normally would. You wondered, which one of you would bow first?

He must have noticed the changed tone of your smile, as one dark eyebrow rose in question. He tilted his head, eyes boring into you with more intensity than expected. His marks shifted colours from plum to rose, to periwinkle. A sequence that you had no idea how to decode yet still made your stomach flutter instinctively.

“Are you ready, petal?” he asked, and the nickname nearly undid all the hard work you put into reclaiming your usual mojo.

“Of course, peach cheeks,” you fired back, smiling brightly. He tried to hide it but you saw the way his lips twitched and his marks flushed deep rose. Even so, he didn’t blush, and the observation made you both giddy and eager to try and pull the reaction out of him.

“You may make the first move,” he offered, keen eyes catching every twitch of your features and shift of your body. You’d learnt from Seokjin and Namjoon that the Kelkie were a race of elite warriors, and you could tell just from looking at Jimin and the way he regarded you that he knew how to read and predict moves in battle. You knew then, that you couldn’t turn this into a game of strategy, or he would best you before you even had a chance to have fun. He was stronger and faster than you, obviously, but you didn’t want to make this too easy for him.

You nodded, taking a moment to choose how to proceed before you threw caution to the wind and moved on instinct alone. He watched, waited, coiled and ready for whatever move you might give him first.

When you dipped then lurched forward, aiming a light hit to his face, he dodged with ease. He had a bit of an unreadable expression on his face before you moved, but now that you made the first swing and he was sinking into the sparring mindset once more, an excited glint began to make itself known in his eyes.

You were right in assuming he would hold back. He weaved out of the way, incredibly graceful, and twisted mid-movement to bring his knee up, aiming for your middle. He was fast, but you knew he could be faster—with an amused huff you slipped out of the way and took a few light steps back before darting forward once more to try and jab his ribs. Like that, the two of you began to fall into a pattern.

Something about sparring always set your blood alight, and you could tell the same was the case for the alien dodging and weaving your light-hearted swings. The thought excited you, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from your throat as he swung and you spun out of the way just in time. You continued like that for the next few minutes, grinning uncontrollably at the sound of the huff he’d let out each time you dodged. So far, despite your occasional swings, you had been on the defensive. Even then, there was no heat or urgency behind his attacks. You wanted him to put a little more effort in.

His breath sped up the longer the two of you moved, his expression morphing. Slippery was how the guards had described you, and slippery was what you proved to be now. He was holding back almost all of his strength and speed, but he still should have been able to grasp you with ease. Yet each time he threw a hit or reached to grab you, you would dip and dodge, dancing out of the way. His stomach gave an excited flutter, the muscles of his back tingling. That was what this was—the way you were moving and interacting with him, reading his movements enough to flee but not to counter, with enough push and pull that it kept him on his toes…

It was like the two of you were dancing.

It was nothing like sparring with his own kind, yet he felt his heart stutter and kick into a higher gear in excitement nonetheless. You had a habit of making everything so exhilarating. The more you pulled back only to push lightly, prodding him and luring him to make a move for your gain, the more he felt himself slip into it. He was no longer moving with the intent to humour you or anything along those lines—he felt it, deep within his abdomen, the knot of longing forming once more. He wanted to chase, to catch you. And with each smooth dodge and light-footed prance out of reach you performed, he felt himself growing more and more riddled with the need to fulfil that instinctive desire.

It was as though you could feel the change in him, the longer the two of you tangled. You could sense a shift and, true to your nature, immediately went to exploit it.

“You’re so slow, peach cheeks!” you let out a breathless giggle as he lurched fluidly and tipped his body in a roundhouse kick of sorts. You ducked, darting forward and trying to land a hit on his gut as he righted himself. “Are you sure you beat Seokjin? You barely—”

The male didn’t even need to respond, as your smug tone was cut off the second his hand flew to grasp your fist before it could make contact with him. Your heart lurched into your throat, breath catching, as he adjusted his grip and tugged you forward, completely off balance. You crashed into his chest with your own, his other hand wrapping around your wrist like iron as he pulled them both behind your back with ease. You were arched into him with your heart racing, stomach flipping. He stared down at you with a dangerous curl to his lips.

“I thought I told you not to push so hard, petal,” his voice was so breathy and low it was absolutely sinful, a shudder rolling down your spine.  You could barely tear your eyes away from his own, heat flushing over your skin. Weak as you may be for him, you refused to give in so easily.

You felt his breath brush your face before you shoved your rapidly-returning nerves away and leant up, lips brushing his ear and the cool metal that dangled from it. Your playful tone had his grip tightening “But I like the end result.”

You felt him stiffen in shock, posture turning rigid; apparently he hadn’t been expecting that. You used this to your advantage, breaking out of his hold and snapping your hand around one of his wrists instead. You darted back then danced around him, pulling his arm with you until you were completely behind him. While he was still dazed your free hand whipped to grab his other one, pulling both behind his back and pressing against it in a mockery of the position he’d just had you in. The sound of his breath catching in his throat made your stomach dip giddily.

Deciding to push further while you had him in this position, knowing he’d snap out of it and turn the tables in the next second or so, you pressed a teasing kiss to the nape of his neck, breasts pushed to his upper back. The move was dangerous as it kept you within his reach for longer, but at the shudder you felt move through him you deemed it worth it.

Unfortunately for you, right after that reaction he jerked into action and broke his wrists out of your hold. Letting out a soft squeak of alarm that bled into a short giggle, you leapt backwards and danced out of the way as he spun and lunged for you. The dance began anew.

Except this time, Jimin had changed his tune yet again.

His marks were stained rosy-purple, shifting to wine each time he neared you. His moves became less hits and kicks, and more dives, lunges and grabs—and each time he got closer to catching you in his hold you couldn’t help the way your heart leapt in anticipation and excitement, pulse racing. The way he moved was so incredibly graceful and fluid, like a predator in its natural element, and numerous times you were so mesmerised it almost got you caught. Still, you managed to evade him, and the longer you did so the more worked up he got. Faster and faster, molten gaze never losing track of your form. You wouldn’t be able to catch him like this, you realised; you’d have to let him get close first.

You meant to lure him in purposefully, but in one of your bids to dance out of his reach you ended up stumbling over your own feet—immediately, he pounced. Your arms flew to the side in an attempt to reclaim your balance but you didn’t get the chance to follow through. Jimin dove forward, powerful thighs keeping him stable and propelling him to you faster than you could register. His hand closed around your wrist, using your arm and off-kilter state to turn you before releasing it and looping his arm firmly around your middle instead. The breath whooshed out of your lungs as you were yanked backwards, back meeting his chest as he contained you in his iron grasp. A shot of arousal spiked down your spine as his other hand whipped up to sit over your throat, grip loose but still present, thumb pressing into the soft flesh and fingers tilting your jaw up and head back.

You were sure he could feel your harried breaths, hell could probably even hear the way your heart was currently racing. Your skin was damp with the slightest layer of sweat you’d worked up from your constant movement and activity. You could feel his own breath panting against your neck, his lips and nose brushing against the sensitive shell of your ear as he dipped his head.

“What did we say about saying things like that so carelessly, petal,” his voice was a sultry combination of a lilting purr and a teasing coo, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Your hands flew to grip the forearm currently pressing against your stomach, before moving to his bicep. You attempted to shift stance and haul him over your shoulder, like you’d managed to do to old sparring partners so many times before—yet Jimin didn’t so much as budge. The thrill of being faced with such unwavering strength made your stomach dip and butterflies swarm.

You didn’t have the words to respond, instead letting out a soft gasp as he rubbed his thumb along the sensitive column of your neck. Your mind raced, thoughts stumbling over one another as you scrambled for how to proceed and what to do. He was about to win, in more ways that one, but alarmingly you couldn’t find it within yourself to care all that much. There it was again, the yearning to just give yourself over and let him have you. It was getting to be a bit like an old friend, at this rate.

Your sudden desires gave you an idea, however. You rolled your body suddenly, rocking your hips back against him and grinding your ass back oh so ‘innocently’. Unprepared and unsuspecting, the action wrought a sharp, lilting gasp from the male’s throat. You felt the way his grip weakened for the barest second and were quick to take advantage of it.

Spinning in his hold, as you pivoted on your heel you used the other to catch his ankle. The result was his knee buckling, leg knocked out from under him, and as you pushed him backwards the two of you fell to the floor in a heap. You landed atop him, as you’d intended, with your thighs either side of his slim waist and your crotch pressed over his. You were out of breath as you braced yourself on his chest, one palm flat against the top of his sternum with your fingertips brushing his throat in a mock ‘dagger’. His tongue darted to wet full lips.

“Playing dirty,” he commented in between panting breaths, eyes boring into you as his voice brushed your eardrums, thick and low—shamefully, it had your thighs tensing with the urge to close. At your almost imperceptible shift, his nostrils twitched and his pupils blew up, hands suddenly on your hips with a firm grip. He didn’t move after that, but you felt the way his entire body tensed.

“I’m not above it,” you smiled, struggling to catch your own breath. You pushed your hands from his chest, leaning back, and in the process of shifting your weight unintentionally ground your core against him. His fingers instantly dug into your hips, leaving a delicious ache in their wake, as a soft groan that almost sounded like a growl slipped from his throat.

“You—”

“Jimin-ssi, I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but Seokjin called for you—there is an issue that requires your input.”

You jumped, startled beyond belief by the sound of a voice at the doorway to the room, and scrambled off of Jimin instantly. When you turned to see just who you expected, you offered a glare. Joy smiled back, unapologetic and clearly amused at the situation she’d walked in on.

Jimin sat up, a hand coming to pat his lower back—you watched the motion, wondering exactly why he did it but unable to suss a reason out. He turned to face you, eyes dark and swirling with something you couldn’t name but that made your heart skip a beat in anticipation nonetheless, before he rose to his feet and walked coolly to the door. You weren’t ashamed to say that you stared at his ass as he went.

“Understood, let him know that I will be there soon. I have… something to take care of first.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you wondered exactly what he had to take care of, but he was slipping through the doors with a hand pressed to his back and gone before you could think to ask. You might have been confused as to what he meant, but Joy seemed to be in the loop and very amused by it.

“I see you’re making progress in wooing him,” she observed, tone playful, and you rolled your eyes as you hopped to your feet. Now that you were no longer distracted by Jimin, you could feel how sweaty and sticky you were from the whole ordeal. Ugh, exercise. A wave of embarrassment coursed through you at the sudden thought—did he notice your gross state when you were on top of him? How humiliating.

“Yeah… Maybe,” you said, dusting off your bottoms. “I’ll gossip with you later though, first thing’s first I need a shower. Do all of you really spar that often to get your energy out? In this heat?”

Joy’s eyes lit up at this titbit of information, the long raven plait down her back swinging as she tilted her head. “Oh, so that is what you were doing? Interesting take on the practice, I will admit.”

You wanted to send her another half-hearted glare but found her words too funny to be able to pull it off. A snort escaped you instead, “Hardly. He went far too easy on me for it to be considered a real spar.”

The female snorted, her marks colouring a delighted blue-green in her amusement. “I am not surprised. Jimin is faster and stronger than most kelkie so I do not imagine he would use anything close to full strength when sparring with you. Interesting that he agreed, though.”

You hummed, unsure how to process her words just yet. “Huh. Well. I’m gonna go back to my rooms and get changed, I’ll find you again later. I have some…. Questions.”

Joy raised an eyebrow but you merely offered her a grin as you left. “See you! And don’t forget to tell Seokjin whatever Jimin wanted you to.”

She rolled her eyes, muttering a curse under her breath before she gave a wave in farewell. “Goodbye. Take your time, please.”

You couldn’t help you laugh as you ventured further down the hall, “I won’t!”

x     x     x     x     x     x     x

True to your word, as soon as you were done bathing and changing you zipped off down the halls in search of her for your promised interrogation session. You were expecting it to take much longer than it did for you to actually track her down.

When you found her, it was on a balcony with Namjoon, who she appeared to be playing a board game of sorts with, and Yoongi, who was to the back napping on large cushion in the sun. He protested whenever you called him a cat and then went and acted just like one, you couldn’t help but laugh.

When she caught sight of you, Joy seemed surprised. “Oh, you really did have some questions you wanted answered, did you?”

Namjoon looked at you curiously after he moved a piece on the board, taking advantage of Joy’s momentary distraction. You wondered what he was thinking before his lips adopted a sudden sly quirk and his teasing tone greeted your ears, “Got up to some fun this morning, did we?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the third chair between them at the table and flopping into it with all the attitude you could muster. “I whooped Jimin’s ass in hand-to-hand combat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Namjoon laughed and Joy snorted, the former clearly having been told what kind of scene Joy had walked in on earlier.

“By playing dirty?”

“My specialty.”

Another chuckle rumbled from his chest as he shook his head, turning back to the board. You allowed a brief moment of silence to settle over you as you watched the two of them make a move. When you couldn’t immediately figure out the point of the game, you gave up your observation.

“Anyway, about those questions I had,” you said suddenly, making the kelkie female to your right smile and shake her head. “I’ll ask them now, since you’re not busy.”

Another snort of amusement and she turned her head in your direction, dark eyes glimmering with mirth and marks glowing soft orange. “Of course, since I am not busy. Go ahead, I know it must be burning you up inside. Has it been unbearable?”

You nodded dramatically, ignoring Namjoon’s eyeroll. “Yes, incredibly so. I haven’t slept in days.”

You received another laugh for that and could barely keep your face straight as Joy shook her head, placing her elbow on the table and leaning her face into her palm. “Well, cheeky human, what is it you are curious about?”

You bit your lip, pondering what you wanted to ask first for a moment before deciding to cut to the chase. “Well, I want to know—why is it that every time I tease Jimin he runs away holding his back?”

It was an innocent enough question in your mind, but the reactions you received made you think that the answer was otherwise. Namjoon choked on his own spit, and Joy’s eyebrows shot up as she clamped her mouth shut and looked very much like she was trying not to laugh. A strangled sound from the side of the room told you that Yoongi had woken up and heard what you said.

Confused, you tilted your head. “What? What is it? Does he have back spasms or something? Wait, are your hearts in your lower back? Am I stressing him out so much he’s having heart attacks?”

To your complete and utter surprise, Namjoon’s face slowly began to turn bright red, and when you turned to peer at Yoongi you found his cheeks had coloured as well, the tips of his ears pink as he coughed and averted his gaze to the balcony. Joy was the only one who didn’t seem incredibly embarrassed at your question—on the contrary, she seemed to be having the time of her life.

“Oh, I love it when you humans ask things like this.” She was positively gleeful, grinning so wide that it actually concerned you a bit. “Your reactions are so funny.”

“What?” you pressed again, worried but also ten times more curious than before. “What is it? Come on, tell me.”

Joy, still grinning, sent Namjoon a pointed look and the male coughed, unable to meet your eyes as he cleared his throat and started, “Uh, well, y/n, you know that there are certain physiological differences between us and kelkies…”

You nodded, slightly impatient but clamping your mouth shut nonetheless in the hopes he would hurry up and continue.

“And you know, uh…” Namjoon looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, face bright pink. “Y-you know that uh, s-sometimes the differences are the ones we can’t see—”

“Spit it out, Joonie!” you couldn’t hold it in, wriggling forward on the seat and placing your palms onto the table. “Please, I’m dying to know, you can’t keep me in suspense like this—”

“y/n, you’ve seen porn, right? From Earth.”

You turned to face Yoongi at the sound of his voice, nodding as you did so. “Yeah, I have. Why? You need some? I had a USB of it with me on the ship, I can go look for it if you want—"

Namjoon choked, coughing and smacking his chest. You ignored him for the moment as Yoongi’s cheeks seemed to darken before he swallowed and continued. “So. Have you seen uh… you’ve seen Japanese animated porn?”

You stared at him plainly for a second, wondering if he was serious. “Uh… yes? Of course I have, I was a teenager too—”

Namjoon let his head slam onto the table with a loud groan, Joy letting out a delighted peal of laughter. Yoongi steeled himself and pushed on. “S-so you know, in the… in Japanese animated porn…”

“Say it for what it is, Yoongi,” you said. “Hentai.”

For a second the urge to kill you flickered in his gaze but he seemed to wrangle it quicker than usual. He let out a great, anguished sigh. “Why do I even bother—have you seen tentacle porn or not?”

“Of course I have, what does that have to do with—” you stopped short, his words ticking over in your head for a few seconds before your jaw dropped and you spun to face Namjoon and Joy with wide eyes and warmed cheeks. “No—oh my god, really?! Holy—”

Namjoon made a strangled, mortified noise and Joy burst into laughter once more as you stumbled over your words, a mess of thoughts zipping around in your poor monkey brain. As utterly shocked as you were in this moment, in a sense you also weren’t that surprised and, shamefully, the knowledge sent something akin to a shiver of excitement down your spine. Wow, you were really a bit depraved, huh? Then again, if you paid attention to the raunchy shit you watched in your teen years (and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably would still watch now if you had it) it would have been a bit telling.

“Oh my god,” you slammed your hands onto the table, on the absolute edge of your seat. “You guys have tentacles? For real? Where? How many? Do both males and females have them, or only—”

“Slow down, y/n,” Joy snorted, withdrawing from the table for a moment to recline comfortably in her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, seeming incredibly tickled. “One question at a time, or I will revoke your question-asking rights.”

You let out a horrified gasp, before instantly snapping your mouth shut and letting her answer the questions you fired at her so rapidly.

“To answer your first question, yes, kelkie do have extra appendages utilised in intercourse. We call them #%&$*@ but you humans describe them as tentacles and that seems to be easier for you to say, so we go with that.” At the sound of a foreign kelkoe word your mind blanked for a moment, but the rest of her words quickly sank in. Namjoon and Yoongi were still dying of embarrassment in the background, and you were a little embarrassed yourself but was by far overpowered by your burning curiosity.

“They’re used specifically for sex?!” you couldn’t help yourself, unable to contain your questions. Obviously, when one hears tentacles they think of certain scenarios, but you didn’t want to just assume. Learning that that was what they were literally for though… god, if it wasn’t enough to make you sweat like a sinner in church.

You could have sworn you heard Yoongi mutter, “I should have known she’d be horny for tentacles, who am I kidding,” under his breath in the background, but ignored it in favour of watching Joy’s features as she compiled a response for you.

“Yes, they are reproductive organs,” she said, a sly smile curling her shapely lips as she easily pinpointed the direction your thoughts were going. “Additional ones to those that some have found we have in common.”

You blushed, but still said what you thought as soon as it entered your mind. “Oh—I—two sets?”

Joy nodded, still very much amused. “Yes—and that is to confirm what you asked earlier, as well. Both males and females have them, but females have less.”

You let that sink in for a moment, mulling over the sudden overload of information, before your mind caught on to a certain detail that it had glossed over earlier and you balked. “Wait—you said you ‘some found’? Who…?”

At your words, both males in the room seemed to shrink in their seats, eyes everywhere but meeting your own. Joy snickered and they flushed bright red. A cackled built in your chest as realisation began to sink in.

“We have had a few celebrations and festivals in the time since the Queen’s crew arrived—you humans like to enjoy yourselves, don’t you?” She might have been teasing you as well as the other two males in the room, but you weren’t ashamed enough of your libido for it to have any effect. At this point, you’d been openly horny for Jimin for a while.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, eyes flicking between the two sheepish-looking males. The insinuation of what the extra appendages meant for their extracurricular romping in the sheets… you blushed.

Eager to return to your earlier line of questioning, lest you lose the opportunity altogether and they changed the subject, you forced yourself to turn back to a grinning Joy.

“So uh, where are they?” you inquired, somewhat gingerly. It would seem you had some tact left, after all. Joy snorted at your manner and tapped her fingers on the table, marks a cool, light blue.

“They are in two lines along the lower portion of the spine,” she informed you, tilting her head and watching your expression keenly. She smiled the second she saw you make the connection between what she said and what you saw. At your questioning look, she continued, “Yes, that has to do with why Jimin, ah… holds his lower back when you tease him. For the most part, they are hidden. They aren’t appendages that we have entire control over, and in many senses it is as though they have a mind of their own, following our base instincts and urges. When a kelkie experiences a certain amount of stimulation or arousal, they are prone to appearing.”

She gave you a moment for the information to sink in before you made the connection she was waiting for. “Oh, oh—wait so—so every time he slaps a hand to his back and runs away its just because I made him pop a tentacle boner?”

The female raised a brow at your choice of words but seemed to understand the slang enough to snort and nod her head. You heard Namjoon and Yoongi choke on a laugh, Namjoon slamming his head onto the table once more and disrupting the board game that had long since been forgotten.

“Yes,” Joy confirmed simply, lips twitching. “I do not think I ever saw him give such a reaction before you came along, though. I have to give you credit.”

It probably wasn’t something you should be preening with pride to hear, but you were anyway. “Ah, finally. My efforts are being rewarded.”

Yoongi shook his head, squinting at you. “How are you so… unapologetically thirsty?”

“We’re talking about Jimin, how can I not be?” you answered simply, before straightening in your seat and whipping a finger to point in his direction. “And let’s not be the pot calling the kettle black, mister! Word on the street is you’re just as horny as me!”

Yoongi balked, face paling before it began to cycle through about seven different shades of red, and Namjoon let out a strangled chortle.

“Don’t you have more questions for Joy?” Yoongi tried weakly to deflect the attention and change the subject, but to no avail.

“Well, yes, but I also have questions for you—and don’t think you’re off the hook either, Namjoon, I see you looking mortified over there.”

The two males let out long, arduous groans, and Joy erupted in delighted peals of laughter. What was going to be an informative afternoon for you was clearly going to be a very long one for them. You wriggled in your seat, getting comfortable, and dove in headfirst.

You were going to get as much information on this new discovery as you could.

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::[ please lmk what you think! & pls consider buying me a kofi if you’d like to support me in some way! <3 ]::

[crimsonbluemoon]

Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 7/17

Still sick, still trying to be on time with my posts. Sorry if I’m not responding to people, its just been a really busy week and the holidays are a bit of a mess. I’m hoping that when I go on vacation after Christmas I’ll answer asks and stuff. For now, please enjoy ^.^ 

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Brock wasn’t a quitter. 

If anything had proved that over the past three months, it was his improvement in the gym. Once a nervous wreck who was too hesitant to try anything but the treadmill, Brock had started to branch out after losing more weight. The health articles and helpful advice from the guys at the gym (he’d even go as far to say his friends) had explained that doing cardio was great, but needed to be paired with healthy eating and weights. The free weights were still too daunting to approach (the men that lingered there had biceps the size of Brock’s head!), but the weight machines weren’t too intimidating. So Brock finalized a plan, and after his walk on the treadmill had finished, he set his sights on a new part of the gym to conquer. 

But it wasn’t as simple as Brock had originally thought; each machine had different weight ratios and knobs to alter the machine, and Brock was hesitant to touch any of it. The clanking of the adjustments felt loud to Brock, despite knowing that nobody around him would even take notice. They were plugged into their music and their own work-out routines, just the same as Brock was when he was in the zone. The old feelings of being watched came back full force as he tried to adjust the seat, nearly dropping a swear when the latch pinched his finger. It wasn’t a terrible pain, but more of an embarrassment for messing up something as simple as a seat adjustment. His face flushed as he stared down at the first machine, wondering if it was supposed to be a sign. Distantly, a memory sung to him like a siren, casting a wave of insecurity over his anxious soul. 

“You really can’t lift that? Your arms must just be for decoration, Brock, because they don’t have any muscle on them. We need to get you to a gym or something.”

Brock’s anger and resentment of his ex was no longer a gaping wound, but a scar he gave little thought to anymore. The longer he spent away from the rose-tinted image he had of their relationship, the more he understood their flaws. Sure, Brock had some responsibility in their discourse, something Craig never refused to acknowledge anytime the topic came up. Some of the nitpicking he did wasn’t always needed, but used as a defense mechanism when feeling bad about himself. And there was his struggle to try new things, despite his ex being willing to take risks on Brock’s tastes and hobbies. But he wasn’t a martyr, either; Brock could make peace with the fact that his ex treated him like an expectation over a gift. Like he simply thought that Brock should be there by his side until he decided he no longer needed him. Maybe until he found someone in better shape with the arm muscles he’d always ragged on Brock for not having. 

The scars were small now, but at times like this, they still whispered in ways Brock struggled to ignore. 

“God, I hate this machine.” The familiar voice didn’t cause Brock to jump as often as it used to, the warm body by his side making his toes flex pleasantly in his shoes. He glanced in confused silence to Brian, who didn’t hesitate to plop down onto the machine that Brock had been staring at for two minutes. “The calibrations are always so specific and I don’t like how hard the seat is against my ass.” 

“I thought Tyler told you to wear a hat,” Brock said, trying (and partially failing) not to think of Brian’s rear pressed up against hard objects. Craig would be proud, which wasn’t a comforting thought. 

“Tyler also tells Mini he’s not interested, yet lets him come here and sexually harass him without making him pay for his gym membership.” Brian skimmed the weight options of the machine that Brock knew his friend used on a daily basis. “Just can’t trust a man with that poor of taste. So I think one of the elliptical machines is wearing my hat right now.”

“He’s going to fire you one day.” They both knew it wasn’t true; despite his refusal to follow the dress code, Brian was Tyler’s right hand man at running the gym. It was common knowledge to most who frequented the gym often, especially with how much time Brian spent there. Brock doubted that Brian would ever really take credit where it was due, because he wasn’t helping Tyler for glory or recognition. He seemed genuinely invested in helping his friend’s business thrive, which compared to Nogla’s constant promotion of the establishment at his apartment complex. 

“And never see this beautiful face again? He’d had to close down from all the broken hearts.” Brian’s little smirk always sent Brock’s heart into a skittish flurry, though by now he’d learn to lean into the sensation over fighting it. Brian’s lovable personality was so comforting and warm that he couldn’t help it; he felt safe showing his weaknesses to Brian. From how often the other members at the gym reached out to him for questions or help, it was obvious the feeling was common. He wanted to show Brian how intricate he was to making the gym a welcoming environment. 

“What are you doing?” Brock asked instead, taking a step back when Brian finally clapped his hands and pushed off the seat of the machine. 

“Alright, this should be the right settings for you. Take a seat and tell me what you think.” The command didn’t hold any authority or sway, but Brock found himself following Brian’s request when a hand on the small of his back lead him to sit down. Guiding him each step of the way, Brian’s voice stayed eased when he wrapped his hands around Brock’s, adjusting the grip he had on the handles of the arm press. “Keep your fingers facing away from you so you have your strongest part of your grip parallel to your chest. It’ll help you get a better push when you lift up. Don’t use your feet, or you won’t get the same tension in your tricep and it’ll lesson some of your work-out. And make sure to take a good breath before starting your reps, okay? I started you small with weights, but you should be straining by the end of ten pushes. Think you can try this?” 

“Just don’t laugh when I can’t get past one.” Brock tried to make it sound like a joke, but he remembered the phantom pinches from his ex that littered the saggier part of his arm. He’d always held more power in his legs, nothing he’d been ashamed of before the break-up, so the little pokes and comments hadn’t been a passing thought for Brock back then. Now, as he stared at the arms preparing to push the handles of the machine up, Brock couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“That’s one more than you could do yesterday.” But Brian just made it so easy to stomp out the ghosts of the past with his candid words and positive aura. “And that’s something to be proud of.” 

“Right.” The word was weak when he whispered it, fingers nervously dancing along the soft grips of the handles. His focus turned internal, flexing the muscles in his hands once and nodding. “Right, okay. Here I go.”

And surprisingly, when he pushed into the motion of the machine, it moved. It wasn’t the steadiest of movements, and his arms shook when they came down, but he didn’t fail. Brock almost forgot to hold up the weights, but a quick reminder from Brian to ‘breathe and go again’ had him right back into the swing of things. He took a slow and steady pace, trying to only focus on the motions of his arms and the little hints of help Brian provided. He didn’t get to ten the first set, eight being far too much for him before he dropped the handles down. But Brian looked over the moon at his attempt, and Brock had never felt like such a winner for something he didn’t complete.

“That was great!” Encouragement poured from Brian like a water spout, hands clapping onto Brock’s shoulders to show his excitement. “You did eight of em, Brocky. You rock.” 

“I didn’t get to ten, though.” Despite his response, Brock let himself lean into Brian’s comforting touch, which kept him from sinking into negative self-talk. 

“Seven more than you thought you could do, right?” Which was true enough to make Brock nod. The smile didn’t wipe off Brian’s face as he led Brock to another machine, using the same slow and encouraging tactic as before. The attention was appreciated but confusing to Brock, who wondered how Brian had managed to sneak the time away from his actual duties at the gym. 

But 20 minutes and six machines later, Brock got his answer. 

“Hope you enjoyed your little date.” Tyler seemed less prickly when he tossed out the words, his glare falling into an eye-roll with little heat. “Cause I’m clocking that as your break.” 

“It was worth it.” Brock doubted Tyler meant the threat because he wasn’t a bad boss. If anything, Tyler was coming up with an excuse to not write Brian up for ditching his duties. But the brightness of Brian’s eyes proved he meant his reply, even when he gave Brock a wink and moved away to argue with Tyler. Leaving the gym that day felt different, his muscles already protesting when he shifted the car into gear. He was sure he’d feel the pain tomorrow, and the pain the next day when he did the routine over again. But that was okay, because he was okay. 

Brock wasn’t a quitter, but it was nice to have Brian in his corner anyways.

Fun times at the gym for Brock and Brian! Its like a cute little first date. Hope you guys are enjoying this story, its been fun to write. As always, like, reblog, and let me know what you think! <3

[lookatthestarrynight]

We Always Love the Things We Cannot Have - Part 1/3

Armitage Hux/Reader, on AO3, check my masterlist for more!

Armitage Hux, General of the First Order, Destroyer of Worlds, regretted few things in life… but this? He regretted this very much. He had not meant to fall for his strange savior, a woman who claimed to be nobody, who disappeared with just as much ease as she appeared. They were bound to meet again... after all, the galaxy works in mysterious ways.

Warnings: nearly smut but nope. a little fluff. 1891 words. Lemme know what you think!!

Armitage Hux, General of the First Order, Destroyer of Worlds, regretted few things in life… but this? He regretted this very much.

           He’d landed on a planet for a very routine inspection of an emerging First Order outpost, only to find it completely and totally destroyed. And then, his ship and everyone on it – bar him, of course – was also completely and totally destroyed in a matter of minutes. Somehow, in all the fray of battle, a woman had appeared from nowhere and dragged him to safety. He was grateful, sure, but he had no idea who she was, who she stood with, if she was even aware of who he was.

           When they made it clear of the battle, she dragged him into a cave network, guiding him through twist and turn after twist and turn, and he found himself quickly losing any sense of direction that his military-man instincts might have once possessed on this star-forsaken planet. When he finally managed to get a grasp upon his bearings though, he made a sincere effort to establish dominance. He failed.

           “Do you even know who I am?!”

           She spun to face him. “Of course I do. You’re General Armitage Hux of the First Order.”

           He gaped.

           She grabbed his gloved hand once more and continued her dragging, this time speaking over her shoulder.

           “I knew the Resistance would try and get rid of you while you were vulnerable, so I figured I’d step in and save you first. I grabbed a beacon on the way to get you, so I should be able to contact the First Order and get you out of here soon,” she paused, pulling them through a blast door into a room that looked more… homely? “There’s an extra room through there—” she gestured wildly in another direction, “—so you can be comfortable while you’re here, if it takes that long.”

           She let go of his hand with a start, as if she’d just noticed she’d been holding it at all. He found himself missing its warmth for some odd reason.

           Hux nodded slow, taking in the room around him. It was clean, for a place in a cave network, and it possessed an entire bank of tech on one wall that beeped and notified with a calming regularity.

           He turned back to his savior. “Who are you?”

           She shuffled, unwrapping the covering on her face, revealing beautiful features marred only by a shimmery scar that danced from the corner of her eyebrow, down her cheek, to the edge of her chin. “I’m nobody, really.”

           “You couldn’t possibly be nobody. Such a concept does not exist. Everybody is somebody. Even my petty stormtroopers are somebody – expendable, but somebody.”

           She shrugged. “I’ve been nobody for a very long time, General. No point in making such an argument now.”

           Hux’s lips twisted. “What is your name, then, nobody?”

           “I don’t have a name.”

           Hux was overwhelmed with the urge to strangle her out of frustration. How could someone so resourceful, so courageous, so astronomically stunning be so determined to be nothing at all? “Then I shall give you a name.”

           She looked up at him, something akin to hope – gah! – swirling in her galactic irises.

           Hux made a suggestion, and she nodded jerkily in assent. He could live with such a name for this temporary companion of his. With the end of the conversation, though, came the end of her presence in the room. She rushed off, muttering something about “setting up the beacon” and “I’ll only be a minute, make yourself comfortable.” Hux stood in the center of the room, feeling vaguely abandoned, before he plopped himself down on the couch against the wall with a dignified huff.

           She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d only be a minute, because she returned with a small smile quite soon after her departure. She bustled about the room, making some sort of perfume-y tea that, quite frankly, swallowed Hux’s senses whole into faint memories of his mother.  

           “Would you mind if I, uh, sat next to you?”

           Hux was shaken from his stupor by her question, “No, no, I don’t mind at all.”

           She nodded, gently folding herself onto the couch, a respectable distance from him. She pressed a mug of tea towards him with an inquisitive eyebrow, and he took it with a short nod.

           She hummed, blowing air across her tea. “So, what’s it like?”

           “What’s what like?”

           “Oh, well, you know—” she flapped her free arm about in a swirling motion for a moment, “—galactic domination, and all that.”

           Hux sat up at that, turning to face her more. “I wouldn’t quite call it galactic domination yet, but… it is my job, so I suppose I like it.”

           “Oh, c’mon. Surely you feel more than just like about your position… you seem like the ambitious type.”

           Hux wanted to be indignant that she’d pegged him perfectly on the first try, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at such a soul – a fact that was quickly bringing him some manner of irritation.

           He inhaled sharply. “I am… proud of my position. How’s that?”

           She smiled with all the brightness of a thousand stars. “Much better, General.”

           “Armitage.”

           “What?”

           “You can call me Armitage. For the duration of my stay.”

           She nodded in quiet understanding. “Okay, Armitage.”

           Hux desperately wanted to implore that the galaxy tell him why exactly he liked the way she said his name so much, why he was overcome with the desire to bring her back to the First Order with him, to take her away from this silly little cave. But alas, such a thing could not be done, so instead he shifted just a smidge closer to her, and she didn’t seem to mind.

           “So… what do you do every day?”

           “Pardon?”

           “What’s your routine like? You know, your workday?”

           Hux simultaneously wished he was and was not here. “It… is a normal workday. I am a military man; I command the military.” He didn’t want to go into specifics, for fear of who she might be connected to. For all he knew, she could be a spy, playing the part of kind nobody.

           She giggled. “Surely you can tell me more than that.”

           He shook his head. “I’m afraid that I cannot.”

           “Would you be more inclined to share if I told you who I was?”

           “Perhaps.”

           She shrugged. “Okay…well, I’ll share anyways,” she shifted in her seat, pushing the cushions down and unintentionally drawing the pair closer together, “I was born on Chandrila, a bit after the Galactic Concordance was signed. My mother was a Senator, and she wanted me to follow in her footsteps… but I just couldn’t, you know?” He did not know. “So, I left. As soon as I could… it was a little rough and tumble for a while,” she shuffled again, “I got into spicerunning and smuggling and all that, and then I got dumped here one day… and I just stayed. A few years alone and the world just seems to get small, I guess.”

           Hux nodded, distracted. By now, there was only a pinch of space between them, and he found that the perfume she wore was equally as intoxicating as the tea she had made. He turned to face her, ever the stiff and uncomfortable military man.

           “I’m sorry to hear it.”

           She nodded. “Me too.” Slowly, she leaned forward and placed her empty mug on the bin in front of the couch, and then offered to take his as well, which he happily handed over. When she resituated herself beside him, they were practically shoulder to shoulder. Then, she leaned in close to his face, and rational thought began to escape his person.

           “I’m not Resistance… if that’s your hesitation, Armitage.”

           Hux desperately wished for a way to fall through the floor and escape her clutches – she was a temptress! She was so close, so, so close, and he wanted her to be closer… but he knew he shouldn’t. Armitage Hux, esteemed General of the First Order, shouldn’t. And yet, her lips were now millimeters from his, she was breathing his air, the aura of her was wrapped all around him…

           How she had incapacitated him with such ease confused the General, but he found that as her lips touched his, he couldn’t quite find it in himself to care. She pressed forward, her lips parting, inviting him deeper into her soul, and Armitage Hux found himself giving in, pushing closer, wrapping her up in his arms, parting his lips. Her hand wandered to his shoulder, pushing off the jacket that hung there loosely and letting it drop to the couch, pushing him into the couch, crawling atop him. His heart was beating faster, and his breathing got heavier—

           And then the beacon alarm went off, and she jumped off of him, off of the couch, and stuttered a quick apology, running to her wall of tech and muttering things under her breath as she made sure the First Order honed in on their location successfully.

           She turned back to him, face flush, lips swollen. “They should be here any minute now,” she approached cautiously, collecting the abandoned mugs and walking them over to the sink in the corner of the room, “You should probably, uh, make yourself more… presentable?”

           He nodded, sitting back up all the way. He stood up, grabbing his discarded coat and snapping in the air before swinging back to its rightful place on his shoulders. She walked over to him, her hand tentatively reaching up and fixing a few stray hairs on his head, returning his hair to that of a stiff general. Quietly, he reached up and grabbed one of her hands, bringing his lips to the top of it in a quick, polite kiss.

           “Thank you… for saving me.”

           She nodded, the tips of her ears flushing red. “You’re welcome, Armitage.” Gently, she extricated her hand from his grip and beckoned for him to follow her out of the room, and then out of the cave.

           When they reached the mouth of the cave, the First Order was already there, Captain Phasma leading a platoon towards the cave. The General’s savior gently nodded her head in a polite good-bye before she disappeared back into the unfamiliar depths of the cave, and Hux found himself sorely missing her presence already. He let out a stiff greeting to Captain Phasma, who merely nodded towards the ship ahead of them with a modulated “Shall we?” And that was the end of that. The General hoped that one day, he would see that brilliant woman once more – in a moment when what he did would not get between them.

           When he spoke with Snoke upon his arrival to the Finalizer, Snoke merely commended the woman, making an offhanded comment that, should he ever encounter her again, she would be a lovely addition to the First Order – that at the very least she deserved their praise. The General agreed, but some part of him never wanted her to set foot on one of his ships, never wanted her to see what he did so up close and personal. Some part of him regretted ever letting her in so quick.

[jemej3m]

Random au idea I had but will never work on but you might enjoy: Andrew is Kevin's bodyguard. Neil is hired to kill Kevin. (in my mind it was also a fantasy au because that's what I'm writing atm but it could work either way tbh idk)

i love this idea!!!! if you’re looking for something similar, with old courts and alliances, i can recommend @gluupor‘s version here!! its amazing 

but ur wish is my command lmao so heres 2000 words on neil and andrew with the assassin/bodyguard trope lmao

*

Neil eyed the gun with mild distaste. He knew Ichirou liked the finality of the gun, the fear it inspired in one’s eyes, but Neil just thought it was messy. 

Efficient, sure, but loud. And cumbersome. And so obvious you’re holding a gun. 

He had knives instead. 

Like father like son, his mother said scathingly. She was long gone, having taken his father right down to hell with her, but that left Neil with a criminal empire and his father’s shoes to fill. 

“Get rid of Kevin Day.” Ichirou had said, lounging in front of a fire. Neil had been seated next to him, taut and rigid, like he always was around Ichirou.

Neil wasn’t insane enough to ask why, but Ichirou soldiered on anyway. 

“My father wanted him as an asset but I see him as a loose end. I had to get rid of Riko because of that man and my brother’s jealous tendencies: He knows too much.”

Neil remembered that. He’d handed Ichirou the gun. 

“He’ll be dead within a month.” Neil promised, trying to not let his voice betray how husk-like he felt. 

*

The first problem he encountered was: Kevin Day was loved publicly, and for good reason. 

Whatever. Neil would poison him and he’d be dead before the weekend arrived, with slow-acting Ricin to put distance between Neil and Kevin’s soon-to-be-corpse. 

That would be, if Neil could even get remotely close to Kevin. 

But he couldn’t. 

He’d commandeered the neighbouring flat to Kevin’s, among the gorgeously glittering glass scapes of New York City. He lived here, too, but it was never in the metropolitan area. He lived on Ichirou’s estate with was further north, or spent time in his Baltimore jurisdiction. 

Becoming Kevin’s new neighbour was relatively simple: He’d simply sent the old woman an invitation to an eternal retreat up in Canada, after looking at her search history (he never wanted to look at an elderly woman’s search history again). She packed up her bags, and Neil slipped in easily, paying the first three months of rent up-front and bypassing the security checks for such a prestigious living space with his new alias: Neil Josten. 

He liked the name Neil. Sue him. It was more comfortable to wear than Nathaniel.

It was upon moving into the apartment that he realised: Kevin Day was never alone. He was with his fianceé, Thea Muldani, who looked as equally adept in militant training as she was in Exy. He was surrounded by his team or the press. 

Or, as Neil reluctantly discovered, he was being watched by Andrew Minyard’s careful eye. 

A quick search on Minyard revealed many things. He’d been a Doe, he’d been to juvie, he’d been involved in multiple cases on child sexual assault as a witness. This wasn’t public information: This was just Neil’s awfully good technological ministrations. 

He also had a degree in criminology from Palmetto, which was where Neil assumed he and Kevin grew close enough that Kevin would trust his protection to Andrew. 

Context was great and all, but Neil couldn’t figure out a way around Minyard for the life of him. Sometimes, when they went out clubbing to a downtown establishment called Eden’s, he would disappear for ten minutes. It was an impossible window, seeing as Kevin was never alone. 

Neil decided the only solution was to grow close enough to Andrew that he could gain the man’s trust and slip around him. His habits were routine, and he took his smoke breaks on the balcony that aligned with Neil’s. 

So every morning, Neil would be leaning on the railing with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Every morning, Minyard would slid open the door, and step out. He usually wouldn’t even look in Neil’s direction. No cordial good morning, not even a nod. 

Neil would have to catch the man’s interest. 

He’d been lucky in that his father had kept his scar-making to Neil’s torso. If Neil’d face had been disfigured, he’d be too noticeable as an assassin. He had recognisable features as it was: His red hair and blue eyes were recognisable as it was. 

So he wore an over-sized t-shirt that slipped off his shoulder and showed the worst of his scarring: a puckered bullet wound with an arc of a knife-blade through it for good measure, and the imprint of a clothes iron on his shoulder. Both were bright red against his skin and impossible to miss. 

A phone was jammed between his shoulder and his chin as he took a drag from his cigarette, hearing the door slide open. 

“…No, don’t be fucking stupid. No one can know about this. Can you imagine how much scrutiny I’d be under if they found out who it was? They wouldn’t be able to bring me down but I’d have a hell of a lot of work to do to avoid that. No, I have to go. Don’t fuck up whilst I’m gone.”

He threw his phone onto the ottoman and let out an aggravated huff, stamping out his cigarette on the railing. He shook his pack and found only a lighter, throwing the empty cartridge over the balcony with faux-frustration. 

“Quit being dramatic.” Came a voice to his right. 

Neil glanced to where Minyard was standing at the near-edge of the balcony, offering his pack. The two balconies were close enough that Neil could reach out, remaining hesitant, to take one. 

He lit it and brought it to his jaw, as was habit. “Thank you.”

“You’re wasting the nicotine.” The man insisted, with a detached gaze at Neil’s shoulder. 

Neil rose an eyebrow, pulling the shirt’s neckline up and over his scars to cover them once more. The man let his gaze flit from the shoulder to Neil’s face. “I’m more of a passive smoker.”

“Pathetic.” Minyard muttered. “You owe me a whole pack.”

Neil grinned. “Seems like a bit of a steep price.” 

“Interest rates are a killer.” He mulled. “I’m expecting it tomorrow morning, or I’ll hike the debt up to two packs.”

“Seems reasonable.” Neil let the smoke curl over his tongue before breathing it out through his nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll finish that if you won’t.” Andrew gestured to the coffee in Neil’s other hand. 

“Black and bitter? Not many people have my taste.”

The man made a scathing noise. “You’re a detriment to the human race.”

Neil put the cigarette between his lips and gave Minyard a two-finger salute. “See you tomorrow.”

Minyard hummed. 

Neil slid the balcony door shut behind him and grinned to himself. This would be fucking easy. 

*

Andrew didn’t know who Kevin’s (and by proxy, his) new neighbour was, but he was intrigued. By the sounds of the phone-call, he didn’t seem so noble, and neither did the curl to his grin. He owed Andrew for the cigarette which meant he’d see him again, and would be able to assess him once more. 

Kevin had slept like a black-out drunk after getting home from his away game, almost collapsing onto the couch. He hadn’t actually gotten black-out drunk for years, but sometimes Andrew wondered how someone acted like such a hangover without a single drop of alcohol in their system. 

He’d woken at six, as he usually did, feeling more than a little sleep-deprived. After a light workout on the rowing machine and breakfast in front of the TV, he took his coffee outside. 

There he was again. Andrew would be lying if he said the man wasn’t absolutely blessed in the appearance department, but it’d be entirely inappropriate to get with someone he’d have to see regularly after the fact. 

The man smiled from behind his mug, wearing a tight wife-beater and sweatpants that hung deliciously low on his hips with a dressing gown thrown over the top. No scars were on show, barring the slight raised bump across his hip that the tightness of his shirt revealed. 

“Here,” He said, throwing the pack at Andrew despite being probably 15 storeys above the ground. “I took one. Cash exchange percentage.”

Andrew scoffed. 

“I’m Neil, by the way.” He offered. “Neil Josten.”

“Andrew Minyard.”

“Thought so.” The man sipped on his coffee. Neil Josten. An ordinary name for such an eccentric person. “Didn’t want seem like a creep and start gushing about Day’s stats when we hadn’t even introduced ourselves yet.”

“Don’t you dare.” Andrew grunted. “I hear enough from the man himself.”

Neil laugh was a singular huff, twisting his face into something more gleeful. He leaned his elbow on the railing, facing Andrew with his head in his palm. “You’re not an Exy fan?”

“Over-exposed, you could say.” Andrew wanted to figure out Neil’s intentions. Not many continued to talk to Andrew, not when his resting gaze was somewhat murderous. What had Nicky once said? Bored murderer. Andrew would kill you and probably yawn whilst doing so.

“I gave up on pursuing it a while ago for more…” He cocked his head to the other side. “Lucrative occupations. But it’s still good to see a game every now and then. What are you, his boyfriend?”

Now that was an obvious question. “Bodyguard. Fucker seems to attract just as much bad attention as he does good attention. I’d rather throw myself off this balcony than date that mess of a human being.” 

Neil laughed again. He didn’t have a coffee or a cigarette: He’d come purely for conversation.  

Interesting, Andrew mused. 

*

Neil was getting bored, and the time constraint he’d set himself was coming to an end. He’d been living next to Kevin and Andrew for three weeks now, and Ichirou would be expecting some form of results in a few days’ time. 

Neil had met with Andrew for evening smoke breaks rather frequently, though mornings had become staple. Tonight Neil had offered a cigarette, self-rolled with a relaxant mixed into it so that he’d sleep heavily and let Neil do his snooping. 

When midnight had passed, Neil pulled his hood up and his scarf over his nose, swinging from his balcony onto Andrew’s. With a soft snick! the lock came clean under the ministrations of his picks and he slipped inside. 

He thought the place would be like Neil’s: Neither Kevin nor Andrew really seemed sentimental, or materialistic. 

Neil was horribly wrong. There was an old couch that looked like they’d hauled it from their college years all the way through to now. A knitted blanket throw was across the back cushions, facing the television. A gas fire-place had various photos on the mantelpiece, including Kevin proposing to Thea, Kevin and an older man who had to be his father and someone who would have looked like Andrew if it weren’t for the quiet smile hugging a heavily pregnant woman. Neil realised Andrew had a twin: Another photo of him showed Andrew, his brother, and a taller man with a darker complexion and a wide grin to contrast the twin’s blank faces sat toward the edge of the photo collection. 

It was odd, seeing how one’s life could expand to so many others. There was an odd sensation at the pit of Neil’s stomach: He grit his teeth and continued to the bedrooms. 

One was locked, the other wasn’t: Neil was right in assuming Kevin’s was the unlocked door and walked into his room. 

He was asleep, sprawled on his bed with his sheets wrapped around his waist. His fianceé was lying next to him, curled into his side with only a bra on. Neil wasn’t fazed: He’d killed people in far less favourable conditions, like that corrupt debt tycoon who’d hired Neil as a prostitute and welcomed him in only a leather harness. And when Neil said only, he meant only. 

Neil looked around the room. It was small, relatively neat, with large windows and an ensuite bathroom. He could stage an overdose: Kevin did have an alcohol problem in college. It seemed like the only viable option, seeing as Kevin was a world-class athlete with no recorded cardiovascular problems, no other drug abuses or suicidal tendencies. 

Neil sighed. He wished Ichirou would give him simpler jobs sometimes. He supposed that was his designed purpose: What was the point of sending out your incredibly precise and professional assassin to knock heads when their talents were best sharpened by intricate puzzles, forcing them to be as elusive as shadows in a crowd?

Neil brushed his fingers along the dresser, ignoring the photo hung on the wall of Kevin and Thea, not smiling, but completely vulnerable and open when looking into one another’s eyes. 

Neil wouldn’t lie and tell someone this job wasn’t isolating. He just didn’t have a choice. 

I don’t have a choice, He repeated to himself. I don’t have a choice. 

A shift on the mattress caught his attention. He glanced over: Thea was blinking up at him, rubbing one eye. 

“Andrew?” She muttered. “Is that you?”

Neil said nothing, slipping out of the room and out onto the balcony once more, retreated back into his apartment. 

He’d have to ask Ichirou for more time. He needed a better plan. 

*

Andrew seemed irritated the next morning when they met up again for a smoke and lazy conversation. 

“Are you alright?” Neil asked. 

Andrew sent Neil a scathing look and said nothing. He went through his smoke too fast and drained the coffee: Neil handed him another cigarette, free of relaxant this time. “Did you see anything of interest last night?”

“Not that I can recall.” Neil leaned a little closer. “Have you checked cameras?”

“Nothing.” He said sourly. “Kevin’s infantile lover-girl swore she saw me in their room last night, but I was dead asleep all night. If anyone had been walking around the apartment I would have woken up.”

“Interesting.” Neil said, hiding his smile behind his mug. “I’ll let you know if I ever notice something out of the ordinary.” 

Andrew nodded. 

The rest of their routine meeting passed in silence. 

*

im gonna write a p.2……how many times have i said that over the past few days lmao im a mess

[imagineredwood]

Part 1   Part 2    Part 3    Part 4

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)

Warnings: None

Word count: 3.2k

 “So, two cafés con leche to go?”

Camila nodded as the barista read her back her order and pulled her card out from her purse.

“Will that be all?”

“Can I get some extra sugar packets?”

The girl reached over and dropped 4 packets into her hand along with her receipt.

“It will be about 5 minutes.”

“No problem. I’ll go talk to Mr. Salvatore while I wait.”

The barista smiled and nodded as Camila walked away, heading over towards the bookstore part of the shop and to Mr. Salvatore who sat at the front desk as usual. He looked up from his calendar when he heard her approaching, his warm smile showing up as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Still here, sweetheart? It’s already break time.”

She smiled as she looked at the old man, leaning down to rest her elbows on the desk.

“I’m just ordering some coffee to take with me. I’m gonna meet someone for lunch.”

“Ezekiel.”

Mr. Salvatore gave a knowing smile as she laughed and shook her head.

“Not today. His dad. I bought him a coffee.”

“You and Ezekiel though. Any more dates?”

Camila shook her head and followed it with a shrug.

“Not any set up so far. We did talk about dinner though so maybe soon.”

Her boss smiled as he listened to her talk, the lightness in her voice as she tried to conceal a smile. He remembered when he was her age and dating, getting to know new people and exploring adult life.

“So, no wedding yet.”

Camila threw her head back with a hearty laugh, Mr. Salvatore joining in eventually. They both laughed for a moment before Mr. Salvatore began to cough violently, doubling over and trying desperately to catch his breath. Camila’s laughing ceased immediately and she quickly walked around the front desk to place a hand on his back, leaning down to look at him.

“Mr. Salvatore? You ok?”

The older man continued to cough for a couple of seconds more before he was able to get it under control, standing back up straight and taking deep breaths. Camila watched him, seeing how red his face had become in his struggle. She wrapped an arm around him and helped him take a seat, her dark eyebrows knitted in concern as she kept an eye on him.

After catching his breath, he nodded, reaching over to pat her hand in reassurance.

“I’m fine, my dear. Just a little coughing attack. I get them sometimes.”

Camila nodded, unconvinced. She knew he had heart problems, and the cough reminded her of her Abuelo’s before he had passed. Complications of left sided heart failure. She decided to let it go though and simply rubbed a hand along his bony back.

“I’m fine, honestly. Go enjoy your break.”

Just as he finished talking, the barista called out Camila’s name, Mr. Salvatore pushing her away softly with a smile.

“Go. Tell Felipe I said hello.”

Camila nodded with reluctance and a fleeting glance, walking away from Mr. Salvatore and back over to the counter of the café grabbing her coffees. She walked up to the door and gave her boss one last look before pushing the door open with her back and walking outside. As soon as she made it out, her hair whipped around her face, getting caught in her lip gloss as the wind blew. It was a welcome change from the blistering heat these last couple of days and she smiled to herself as she walked down the sidewalk, heading towards the carniceria. 

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

“I’ll bring some tomatoes next time I swing by.”

Felipe nodded and took another sip of his nearly gone coffee. He’d loved the tomatoes Camila had dropped off for him last time, juicy and firm, a freshness that he hadn’t tasted in a long time. They’d established somewhat of a bartering system it would seem since they’d gotten to know each other. He would give her the pieces of meat that were left over after butchering everything up that wouldn’t sell, and she brought him fruits and vegetables from her garden. Neither of them would accept money from the other and in time this was just a routine they had fallen into.

Today’s meeting had been random and unplanned, Camila deciding out of the blue to buy coffees and spend her lunch break there with Felipe. She had about 10 minutes left of her break before she had to head back to the bookstore when the front door of the Carniceria opened, interrupting their conversation. She had her back to the door and figured that Felipe was going to have to get up to tend to the customer. The look in his eyes as he looked at whoever had entered said something was up though and she turned around to get a look. She didn’t recognize the man, never having recalled seeing him before. It was clear that Felipe did though and with as good as Camila was at reading people, she could tell the man wasn’t someone Felipe was happy to see. Felipe’s jaw was tight and tense, and he stood up slowly.

“What can I get for you?”

“Not sure yet. Just getting a look at what you have.”

She eyed the man as well, him not really paying much attention to Felipe as he looked at her with a soft smile. Felipe reached out and placed a hand on Camila’s shoulder softly, guiding her towards the door of the shop. He felt bad seeing the confused look in her eyes, but he didn’t want her in there with him. EZ had said he wanted to keep her separate from the drama of their life and as always, Felipe was prepared to help his youngest son with whatever he could. He didn’t want Camila to feel like he was kicking her out, but he didn’t want her there either. Besides, he knew she was a smart girl and figured she would understand.

“You gotta get going mija, get back to work.”

Camila checked her watch, still having a bit of time left but she could feel the tension in the air and trusted Felipe, giving him a nod.

“Ok Felipe.”

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his cheek, whispering softly for only him to hear.

“Call me at the store in a little bit.”

Felipe didn’t respond but she knew he’d heard her by the slight squeeze he gave her side. Pulling away, she grabbed her bag and turned towards the door, about to leave. She was nearly there when the man spoke to her

“Hi. Camila, right?”

Camila paused, knowing for a fact that she hadn’t even met much let spoken to this man to tell him her name. She smiled anyway and gave a nod, looking over his features to memorize them.

“And you are? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Kevin. Family friend of the Reyes’.”

Camila nodded and gave her most convincing smile. She didn’t know this man but family or not, something about him rubbed her the wrong way and she was keeping her guard up. With one last look at Felipe she pushed the door open and headed back to the bookstore to finish off the rest of her shift and wait for Felipe’s call.

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

It was nearly 15 minutes later, and Felipe had yet to call her, Camila standing at the front desk by the phone. She felt that Felipe could handle himself if need, but she didn’t feel any less worrisome at the thought of leaving him there with someone he clearly didn’t trust much. She had just turned away from the desk and was starting to head to dusk the shelves when the bell to the front door dinged, EZ walking through with Angel. They both smiled as they saw her, walking towards her as she met them halfway.

“Hola.”

EZ motioned to the duster that Camila was holding.

“We didn’t interrupt you, did we?”

Camila shook her head, brushing away the piece of hair that fell in front of her eye.

“Nope. I was just gonna go dusk real quick.”

Camila hesitated as she was about to begin speaking, not wanting to make it seem that she was overstepping her boundaries. After a moment, she decided against asking about Felipe and the man, sure that she was just over thinking. With a smile and a shrug, she placed the duster down and motioned to the store.

“Did you guys come for books or?...”

“EZ wanted to come see you. I just tagged along.”

EZ tossed his shoulder into Angel’s roughly, a nervous laugh coming from him as Angel just stood there, head high and a proud smile on his face from his baby brother’s embarrassment. The three of them laughed quietly and Angel started to head towards the café, motioning to both her and EZ.

“You kids behave.”

EZ rolled his eyes as Angel walked away, smiling down at Camila.

“Sorry about him.”

With a shake of her head, Camila gave a half smile.

“I don’t mind him. That’s what big brothers are for right?”

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe you can have him.”

There was a slight moment of silence, Camila picking up the duster once more and motioning for EZ to follow her.

They talked about random stuff, EZ helping Camila to dust by lifting books from the shelf so she could get under them. It didn’t take her long to finish up and they both went back to the front of the store to see Angel sitting at one of the tables up front sipping at a coffee, two more cups in a holder in front of him. He looked up as he saw them coming and patted the table. Camila smiled then winced.

“I’d love to sit and chill with you guys, but I already took my break.”

Angel looked around with an arched eyebrow, motioning to the nearly empty store.

“This place is like a ghost town right now. You’ll be good.”

EZ nodded and smirked as he looked over at his brother.

“And if anyone says anything, you can just tell them that you were teaching Angel how to read.”

The older brother gave a mocking laugh, reaching over to punch EZ in the chest. Camila shook her head but still engaged in the laughter feeling like she was back at home, horsing around with her family. Taking a seat, next to EZ of course, Camila grabbed one of the coffees and took in a deep breath of the aroma.

“This is literally my third cup of the day. I had one this morning before I came to work then I had another on my lunch break with your dad. Now this one.”

Both the Reyes brothers looked at Camila in surprise.

“You were hanging out with Pops?”

She nodded and leaned back in her chair, giving them both a playful smile.

“Yeah, why? You think I only hang with you two? Felipe even showed me how the meat slicer thing works.”

Angel looked down at his coffee with raised eyebrows, cocking his head to the side.

“Well damn. Nothing says friendship like showing you how to use the new meat slicer.” 

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

Camila ran her fingers through the front of her hair once more, ruffling it up to give it some more body. She smoothed her hands down the front of her blush pink blouse, looking down at the beige heels with gold trimming that matched her khakis in the mirror and wondering if they were too much. Looking over at the clock she felt the butterflies take off in her stomach once again.

6:24 PM

She had six minutes to get it together before EZ arrived. It was their first time going out to dinner together and the last thing she wanted was to make him wait on her. She grabbed her purse and headed to the living room, knowing that if she stayed in her room any longer, she would end up changing something else about her outfit for the thousandth time. She took a seat on her couch, taking a couple of deep breaths to steady her nerves. Sure, she had been on dates before, to the bowling alley or maybe to a sports bar. She’d never been on a date like this though. A date where the person taking her had made reservations nearly a week in advance just to get in. She’d tried to convince EZ otherwise, that they didn’t need to go anywhere fancy or high end, that she’d be happy to go anywhere. EZ had then said that was the exact reason why he was taking her somewhere nice, because she didn’t ask for much even when she deserved it. That had brought a decent bashful smile to her face and she’d relented, telling him she’d be willing to go wherever he wanted to take her.

Now here she was, minutes away from him getting to her house and she realized just how excited she was. Happy that she had met someone that was so nice and caring, someone that was polite and helpful. Someone that she felt she could trust. Camila had always been told that she was an excellent judge of character and she hoped that rang true this time as well. Shutting off the tv, she could hear the distant rumbling of his Harley and it was then that she realized.

“Shit! I can’t ride a bike in fucking heels.”

Her collected composure shattered once again and before long, she could hear his bike in her driveway. She wobbled back and forth, torn between what she should do and next thing she knew, EZ was ringing her doorbell. She walked up and unlocked the door, pulling it open to see EZ standing there, all smiles in an olive-green Henley shirt, no kutte. His eyes locked on her and he looked over her face, over her outfit and suddenly she felt self-conscious shying away from his gaze a bit.

“I knew it was too much. Let me go change real quick and I’ll be right back, I swear it will take me like two seconds, just- “

“You look perfect.”

His words cut off her rambling and a bashful smile slowly made its way across her lips.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. You look beautiful.”

Camila pointed down at her shoes with a wince.

“These aren’t gonna work though, are they? I figured maybe I could go in my car this time?”

EZ nodded, giving a soft laugh.

“Yeah that’s probably best.”

Camila grabbed her car keys and her purse, walking out of the house with EZ. She walked up to the driver’s side door and looked over to see EZ already looking back at her with a smirk.

“Yeah, those shoes are way too nice to ride in. Don’t want one falling off.”

“God that would suck.”

EZ agreed with a laugh.

“I’ll ride in front, lead the way.” 

Camila nodded happily, climbing into her car as EZ started up his bike.

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

“And that’s the story of the third time Angel almost burnt our house down.”

Camila dabbed at the corner of her eye with her knuckle, trying to wipe away the tears from her laughter without messing up her mascara. Her and EZ’s laughs settled down some and soon enough they were just walking down the sidewalk towards the parking lot in silence. EZ looked over at her for a moment before he held his arm out to her. Camila wrapped her left arm loosely around his bicep, a demure smile on her face as she did. EZ looked away and focused his gaze forward, a smile coming to his face as well just from seeing hers. The date had gone perfectly, no awkwardness or issues. EZ was rusty after his time in prison, that was no secret, but with Camila he felt comfortable. She made him feel normal and happy, and after the things that he had been through in his life, happiness was truly all he wanted.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Ezekiel.”

Looking back over at her, he squeezed his arm around hers for a moment, his eyes holding that same almost childish wonderment as hers.

“So did I, Cam. Can I call you that? Is that cool?”

Camila hesitated for a moment, no one having ever called her that before. She smiled anyway and nodded, liking that it would be her nickname just between them.

“Yeah, that’s cool.”

They fell quiet again and before long they were at their row in the parking lot, his bike parked right beside her Jeep. Both were reluctant to pull away from each other but did anyway, EZ’s hands coming down to slip into his pockets while Camila’s held her purse in front of her.  

“Thanks for taking me out EZ. Everything was beautiful. The food, the lights, the dessert,”

“You.”

EZ filled in as she trailed off and he gave a smirk as he made her blush for the tenth time that night. Slowly but surely, he was starting to feel like he was getting his game back. He reached forward and swiped his thumb across her chin where some of her lipstick had transferred, his fingertip lingering on her skin for a second before he pulled away, clearing his throat. She looked down at her shoes for a moment and then looked back up, a G Wagon pulling into the parking lot and parking in the row across where you were.

“Maybe we could do this again?”

He looked back over at you and smiled, nodding.

“Only if you ride with me next time.”

Camila agreed, pointing down at her heels.

“I’ll bust out the Cortez’s next time.”

“That will definitely be better.”

They both looked over to their left, a blonde woman getting out of the Mercedes, and going into the backseat, getting a baby out from his car seat.  Camila looked back at EZ, the strangers not really calling her attention anymore. EZ on the other hand still had his eyes glued to the woman and baby, an unreadable look in his eyes before he quickly pushed his attention back to Camila. He wasn’t looking for long, not even enough to be considered staring, but Camila could still tell there was something he was drawn to and in her head, she conjured up that maybe after losing his mom, he liked to see mothers with their children. Maybe he wondered if the woman needed help. Maybe he thought the baby was cute. Or maybe he just found her attractive. The latter thought wasn’t very comforting though, especially not while they were on a date. EZ gave Camila a smile and she returned it, nodding over towards the woman who was now making her way towards the restaurant entrance.

“Who’s that?”

EZ shook his head, looking down for a moment before he looked back up and pushed a smile.

“Don’t know. Cute kid though.”

Camila nodded in agreement and felt her discomfort settle. First date and she was already feeling the caress of jealousy. Relaxing, now knowing that he wasn’t checking out another woman on their date, she took a step back and unlocked her car, pulling the door open.

“I’ll see you around, Ezekiel.”

EZ felt warm as she said his name, her accent coming through, the syllables sliding off her tongue like honey and almost immediately he forgot about Emily. Camila got in and turned over the engine, EZ climbing onto his bike and fastening his helmet as she backed out of the parking space and drove off with a wave, leaving EZ to drive off with a head full of thoughts.

[ravenwritesstuff]

Best Laid Plans (5/?)

Fandom: Frozen (modern AU, no magic) Pairings: Helsa, established Kristanna, lotsa frohana Rating: T for now, M later almost for sure A/N: Take it and go.

[ Part one ] [ Part two ] [ Part Three ] [ Part Four ]

Her alarm goes off after three hours of sleep and she can hardly move enough to turn it off. Sun peeks in around the edges of her curtains. She needs to get up and go about her day and force herself back into a regular rhythm. Normally she is quite good at it but this time it seems impossible. 

It isn't that she is unused to this routine. After a thirty hour event she often takes a long nap to reset her mind and push her through to the next night and a normal bedtime. While never easy she is typically able to roll out of bed in her studio apartment and get started on whatever task is at the top of her list, but today….

She swings her feet over the edge and sits up, head swimming, and she can feel every inch of her body. She knows if she stretches her spine will snap, muscles releasing, but she can hardly find the energy. She tilts her head side to side, neck cracking, and there is laundry to do. There is laundry to do and errands to run. There is laundry to do and errands to run and things to return and clean and this is her only day off this week and she has so much to catch up on and -

She can feel it. 

When she is more awake, more lucid, she can convince herself that she is making things up. She tells herself that whatever symptoms she thinks she is having is just stress, exhaustion, dehydration…. But here in that funny place between being asleep and awake she knows. 

This is not just something she is imagining. 

She bends over her bedside trashcan and vomits.

When she is done she wipes her eyes and mouth with a tissue. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. 

She has today. 

She will take it. 

Sleep is for the dead, and she isn't there yet. 

She stands up and starts her day by cleaning her mess.

….

Dinner that night is at Anna and Kristoff's modest home. The team gathers around takeout and discusses the event, what went well, what didn't, where improvements can be made, and how they can grow. It is informal, less structured than Elsa likes, but she knows that the community of her team is just as important as the efficiency especially considering this is supposed to be their day off. Also none of them brought up Hans Westergaard for which she would be eternally grateful. 

They are past the business point of the evening now. Elsa is in the kitchen putting dishes in the washer as Anna and Kristoff split the leftovers into plastic containers for everyone to take home. Rapunzel and Eugene always take home whatever anyone else doesn't want because Rapunzel will eat anything. The rest goes in the Bjorgman’s fridge to share later. Anna always saves aside a portion of something sweet for her sister, but she doesn’t need much. 

She isn’t ever that hungry. Even less so recently. 

By the time it is all said and done it is just the three of them: Anna, Kristoff, and Elsa. 

She remembers when Kristoff had first come on the scene, how she had been unimpressed but quickly won over by his devotion to her sister. Now she can hardly picture Anna without Kristoff by her side and for that she is thankful. Anna thrives when she has someone steady beside her. Kristoff is definitely steady.

They stand around the kitchen island cleaning up the last of the mess and Kristoff grabs a leash and harness off a hook on a nearby wall. 

“You ladies seem to have this under control. Sven needs his walk.” He clasps the contraption onto a mutt big enough to be a horse. “We’ll be back soon.”

He is off before there can be any discussion and Elsa gets that tingling feeling down her spine that this was not a spontaneous idea on Kristoff's part, no matter how much he loves the gigantic Sven. She pauses wiping the counter to see Anna all too diligently avoiding her gaze. 

This has happened enough that Elsa knows it is best to just get to the point. It is almost always the same point anyway, but this time she does not feel as prepared. 

“All right. What is it?” She pops a hip and lands her hand upon it. 

“What is what?” Anna straightens a towel on the oven handle for the thirtieth time. 

“Whatever it is you aren't saying. That’s what.” Elsa steels herself, ready to deflect any foolish accusation Anna might throw her way - especially if it had to do with one particular groomsman.

Anna bites her lip, still not meeting her sister's eyes, and Elsa knows now what is coming. She wishes she hadn’t asked, but now:

“It's happening. Isn't it?”

Anna’s voice is small, as if she can hide the question while asking, but it hits Elsa like a freight train. She remembers the look on Anna's face after they had changed yesterday, remembers the look in her eyes as she had tested the waters of this conversation. How long has she suspected…? 

Elsa doesn't want to lie but she is also not ready to admit the truth. Anna has bared her fair share of Elsa’s troubles. Elsa does not want to burden her with more than she needs to carry now.

“Anna. If there was something to know - you will be the first to know it.”

Anna looks at her then, blue eyes sharp and clear. “What are your symptoms?”

She thinks of the headaches, the vomit this morning, and tells a bald-faced lie: “I’m not having any.”

Anna's eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

“It is my body. I am pretty sure I would know. This isn't exactly my first go at this.”

“Yeah, but… this time is different."

Elsa sighs. Her sister sound so bleak and she supposed she understands. The situation is grim at best, but it is all she has known. It is all she will ever know. She supposes it is all Anna will ever know of her sister as well. That thought stings. She will do her best to protect Anna as long as she can.

"What was it that mom said? Today has enough trouble. Don’t take tomorrow’s.”

Anna doesn’t smile, not distracted by Elsa’s attempt.

"But you will tell me, right? You will tell me when it is today?”

Elsa is good at lying. She has to be, but Anna is the hardest one to fool. She puts on her best poker face and meets her sister's eyes. 

"I will tell you."

Anna smiles. 

Elsa has to decide if it if fake or not and suddenly the tables are turned.

They don’t mention it again when Anna drives her home.

….

She sleeps through her alarm.

In all of her adult life that has only ever happened once and it was from a power failure and the alarm itself didn’t go off.

She pops up ten minutes after she is already supposed to be at work to her phone buzzing with text messages from Anna, Rapunzel, Kristoff, Eugene….

And they probably all think she is dead. She can’t blame them, but she also doesn’t have a single second to waste in replying to their messages. 

She also hardly has time to register that today, as opposed to yesterday, she feels fine. She has no nausea, no headache - nothing. 

Her symptoms could have just been fatigue and stress from the wedding. There is no way to know for sure, but she really doesn’t have time to think about it.

The days that actually count against her are so far and few between at this point that she just moves forward. Elsa does not like dramatics and she will not indulge in them.

The weather, however, has a different idea. 

The world outside her window is a deluge. Everything outside of her window is gray and bleak, but that happens. She has a plan for it. Her umbrella sits in its proper place by her door in its own small stand. She will be fine.

There is no time for breakfast which is fine because she usually skips it anyway. She grabs a granola bar just in case and will get her coffee at the office.

She does her hair and makeup in a flurry (a low braided bun with just enough mascara and blush to pop her features) because there are no meetings today (which is good because if she was late to a meeting with a client - she shudders). All she has to do today is show up and answer questions (hopefully through email) but she would deal with it either way. She opts for a shapeless navy blue dress that hits just below her knee to combat dealing with a wet hem all day and secures her locket in place around her neck.

The beauty of her job and living space is that it is only three blocks from each other.

She always walks.

No matter the weather.

But right now, when she is running late, she sure wishes it was only one block. Or maybe she could convert her office to her bedroom. She is there enough.

She puts on her trusty rain boots as thunder crashes outside.

It will be a soggy walk but she has done it before. She will do it again and again and again for as long as she is able.

When she isn’t so rushed she feels lucky to be able to walk to work since she cannot drive. Whenever she needs to meet a client she catches a cab or (depending on the client) orders a car service. More often than not Anna picks her up and takes her where they need to go. It keeps things simple. She likes the predictability of it all, the reliability. It makes everything else that much more manageable. 

She grabs her purse and stuffs a pair of sensible flats in to change into once she reaches the office. Then with her lunchbox and umbrella in tow she dashes out into the hallway. When she gets outside she pops up her black umbrella and starts down the sidewalk at as brisk a pace as her boots will allow.

It is gusty. She hadn’t realized, but about half way in to her walk a strong swoop of wind catches her umbrella and pulls. Elsa does her best to fight it while juggling her purse and lunch and trying to down a granola bar and respond to the distressed texts and calls to let them know she is on her way but it is a losing battle. 

The umbrella flips inside out just as the rain picks up from torrential to basically a waterfall. It takes all of five seconds before she is soaked to the bone. Unfortunately it takes about ten seconds to fix her traitorous umbrella so by the time she gets herself sorted it is rather a moot point. 

If she wasn't already nearly half an hour late she would turn back around and change, but she will just have to make due at this point. From the outpouring of texts from her family and colleagues she does not have time to do anything but show up. 

So with rain dripping down her nose, pooling in her boots, and making her shift dress cling to her skin she finally makes it to the steps of E&A Events. It is a modest brick building that shares a foyer with several other local businesses. In the heart of the city it is a sleek mix of chrome and brick that has been arranged in a way that is both modern and welcoming. She bee lines to the frosted glass door with their logo etched into it and slogs inside soaked and humiliated.

She is met by a frantic, yet enthusiastic, Rapunzel. 

“Elsa! Hi! Let me take your umbrella.” The springy brunette grabs the handle right from Elsa’s hand. Elsa blinks - stunned. Even for Rapunzel this greeting is over the top. 

She bends to pull off her water-logged boots as Rapunzel shakes her traitorous umbrella onto the hardwood entry hall floor. 

“Pascal’s gonna be living in this hall mopping up messes if this rain doesn’t stop.” Rapunzel laughed. “It’s a miracle Mister Westergaard didn’t slip and crack his head open the second he came in. You didn’t update the calendar so I didn’t know he was coming and -”

Elsa nearly loses her balance as she pulls off her second boot, the last shred of her dignity saved only by the thought that there are thirteen possible opportunities for who it could be other than the one she dreads the most. 

“Mister Westergaard?” Her stomach flips back and forth, but she manages to keep her tone even. “He was here?”

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. “Not was. Is here. What? Did you forget about your appointment?”

Elsa stares at Rapunzel for a long moment, mind not computing what she is being told. Surely Rapunzel is not telling her that Hans Westergaard is there, in their office, at that very moment except the look on Rapunzel’s face says that is exactly what is being said. Elsa almost runs back out in the rain, but instead she rolls back her shoulders and places her boots neatly by the door. No one needs to know how fast her mind is racing beneath her professional exterior.

“I must have gotten my days mixed up.” She buys herself a bit of time as she presses a soaked tendril behind one ear. “Has he been waiting long?”

Rapunzel looks at her watch. “Twenty two minutes.” 

Elsa groans inwardly. “Who is with him?”

“Well it was me and Eugene - but then Anna and Kristoff got here and they took over. Hans is really insistent about talking to you specifically.”

And although Elsa has never breathed a word about anything that happened that night to anyone - not even Anna - she knows that everyone knows at least the bare bones of the situation. Her cheeks heat. 

If she had ever suspected he actually would show up at her office she never would have -

“I need to talk to Anna.”

“But she’s with -”

“Yes. I know.” Elsa cuts in. “Could you please go in and tell her she has an urgent call that she needs to take in private?”

A wash of understanding floods Rapunzel’s face. She nods, razored bob slashing across her cheeks at the motion. 

“Yes. Yeah. Okay. Got it.” She puts Elsa’s traitorous umbrella in the stand and gives her a thumbs up. “I got this.”

Elsa forces a smile, too distracted to even consider mustering a real one, and watches as Rapunzel goes to the wide frosted double doors that lead to the client meeting room. She tucks herself into the shadowed corner as Rapunzel goes in and waits there until she and Anna return a moment later. 

“There you are! I’ve been texting you!” Anna says as she reaches out to hug Elsa but stops when she touches her shoulders. “And you’re soaked. What happened?”

“It’s been a long morning.”

“It’s only 9:30.”

“Still.” She does not need to say more. Elsa knows Anna understands in the way she does not press the matter. 

Instead she skips forward. “Hans Westergaard is here.”

“So Rapunzel said.” She keeps her voice even “What does he want?”

“Well…” Anna spreads her hands in front of herself. “I don’t really know? An event of some kind to be sure, but he is not exactly forthcoming. He says he wants to talk to you about it first.”

Elsa’s mind goes a thousand directions.

“But - I don't have a vision board.” She can hardly think over the pounding of her heart. “I - I haven’t had time to put together an intake package and what about the Clemmons wedding? I don’t know how we could possibly take on another project when - he has to go. There is just no way - ”

Anna catches Elsa’s emphatic hands in her and cuts her off with a worried stare.

“Okay. Slow down. Elsa - what exactly is going on here?”

Elsa feels her defenses rising in the midst of her unprofessional behavior. “I just think we should think twice before even considering taking this on. It could be beyond our capability, our scope. And if we can’t meet and exceed expectations then think of the liabilities.”

Anna’s face scrunches. “I think what you meant to say there is that this is the break we have been working for! It could mean the biggest leap of clientele in the history of our lives with one event. Elsa - this is the Westergaards. We may as well plan something for the governor - or the president - but they don’t have nearly as much money.”

Elsa knows Anna is right but she cannot stop the riot rhythm of her heart at the idea of spending any kind of extended period of time working with Hans Westergaard. She thinks of all the meetings, the phone calls, the shopping trips and vendor consults that they would complete side-by-side as she did with all her clients. She thinks of the intimacy that accompanies her role guiding people through the planning process and seeing their tastes and preferences under a magnifying glass. She cannot do that with him. She will not. It will break her.

“Anna.” Her head throbs. She struggles for a way to put what she feels into words without saying too much. “This just isn’t going to work.”

Anna releases Elsa’s hands to grip her shoulders, fabric squelching under her fingers, face softening as she picks up on her sister’s distress. “You’ve gotta help me understand this one sis. Did something happen at the wedding that you aren’t telling me?” 

Elsa is in a corner and she knows it. If there is even a chance of getting Anna in that corner with her she is going to have to come clean. She looks down and presses clenched fists to her eyes.

“He asked me out.”

Anna is quiet for a long moment and Elsa is not sure if she heard her, but she will be damned if she repeats herself.

Then, tentatively: “You have been asked out before…?”

Anna phrases it as a question even though she knows the answer. Elsa has been asked out, but it had been a non-issue. She had never had difficulty turning away the attention of men who were often all too happy to move on to the next thing that caught their eye when they realized she was not worth the effort. Never, however, had she been so relentlessly pursued by someone she finds so frustrating and attractive in equal measure. Never has it come at such an inopportune time.

“Not like this.” Elsa replies.

“Oh - oh - !” This time Anna is all too quick to respond and Elsa rips her hands from her eyes and glares at her sister.

“No. Don’t.” She will not have her weakness spoken aloud. 

“But Elsa -” 

“Stop.” 

“Did you say ‘yes’?” 

“Anna.”

“Oh crap - you did. Didn’t you? Or you didn’t but you wanted to?”

“What I don’t want to do is talk about it.”

“Elsa.”

“Anna.”

“Elsa. This is Hans Westergaard. Do I need to remind you again what that means?” Anna’s eyebrow quirks.

“I know what it means.”

 Anna purses her lips. “Look. I’m going to be you for a second, because I think you need it and I don’t want to seem mean but you’re talking crazy.” 

Anna pauses for a second to gather her thoughts, takes a deep breath, and then launches her attack.

“We need this, Elsa. Everyone at E&A Events needs this to happen so you are going to have to suck it up and put on your big girl pants because we need this. Not you, we. This company is more than you and we need you to not screw this one up, okay? We need you to be calm and collected and professional and to do this event no matter how much it twists your personal panties, okay?” 

Elsa blinks, mascara smearing into her eyes and stinging but that burn is nothing compared to Anna’s words. She is normally the rational one, her business sense always winning out, and a taste of her own medicine is bitter. Anna is right. If Elsa truly wants to set up E&A Events for long lasting success then she has to approach this the same as she would any other client. 

Elsa takes a shaky breath.

Anna rubs the clammy skin on Elsa’s arms, as close to a hug as they can get with Elsa soaked the way she is.

“Remember when we started this business you said you wanted to live a normal life as long as you were able?”

It is an odd question, one Elsa had not anticipated, and she frowns. There had been so many discussions over the years. Each one had hinged on the fact that Elsa was not like the rest of them. Each one had tried to navigate the careful balance of the inevitable and the ignoring of it. The application of these conversations and plans however had never made her heart pound in her chest like she had just sprinted a mile. 

Elsa shakes her head.

“You’re right,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “You know you’re right. Of course you’re right. Mister Westergaard is just like any other client.” 

Anna casts her sister a knowing look. “That is not what I meant and you know it.” 

Except Elsa didn’t. She blinks, wide eyed and confused. 

“Elsa. If you want to date the guy, just date him. Dating doesn’t have to mean getting attached. It can just be fun. That is what normal people do. Normal people have fun.” She plants her hands on her hips. “Plus he is loaded so you know he can probably take you on some pretty amazing dates.”

Elsa’s defences fly up. “Not going to happen.”

“But you know it would be okay if it did.” Anna goes soft in almost perfect opposition to Elsa’s rigidity. “All I’m saying is we all only get one shot at this life thing. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow or Kristoff could get struck by lightning. I get that you are trying to protect yourself and whoever else might come along but don’t you think that maybe you’re just hurting yourself more by not even trying?”

The words hit Elsa like a fist to the chest.

She is absolutely dizzy with them. 

Of all the ways she thought this Monday would go.

She bears down.

“We’re doing this.” 

She pushes past a surprised Anna and heads to the doors to where Hans Westergaard is waiting. If he is going to lay down a challenge she will be damned if she shrinks down from it. 

She will meet him just as she is, streaming mascara, skin soaked dress hot mess, and she will not back down.

She cannot.

She pushes past her sister towards those ominous frosted doors knowing that she looks a mess and accepting every bit of it. There may have been objections, but with the way Anna put it she knows that this is something she must face. 

This isn’t about dating or a relationship.

This isn’t about love.

Hans Westergaard has the nerve to come to into her territory then it can only be one outcome for this.

This is war.

[ previous ] [ next ]

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Dream | Daniel Seavey

Requested? Mhmmm @magicalmarais @why-d-we I hope you both like it!

Warnings? Two swear words? 

Word Count: 1,833 

“Good to see you again.” You whip around to see your soulmate standing in front of you. You couldn’t exactly tell where you were but you assumed it was a music store of some sort. “How was your day?” You ask. “It was good. I️ fly out to see my friend tomorrow.” He says smiling widely. That smile. After years and years of dreams with this boy you still swooned at that smile. How would you ever be able to resist it in real life? “Exciting.” You respond while reflecting his smile. “I’m Daniel.” You were taken aback suddenly. Never before were you able to find out your soulmates name. Just as either of you were about to tell each other, your dreams usually ended. “Does this mean we’ll meet soon?” You ask hopefully. “I️ hope so..” he trails off waiting for you to tell him your name. “(Y/N).” You respond. “(Y/N).” He echoes. The way he said your name caused your stomach to flip. Daniel could simply look over at you in your dream and your heart would melt. You had somehow already fallen for the blue eyed boy and you just wished the day you meet would come sooner. “Where does your friend live?” You ask, hoping that it maybe somewhere near you. Before you could get an answer you watched as Daniels form fades. Suddenly you’re jolted awake and out of your dream and you sigh frustratedly. “Shit.” You curse quietly under your breath. You sit up in bed and reach around till you’re able to find your phone. You check the time to see it’s almost three in the morning. You sigh quietly and sit up in bed. You swing your legs over the side before standing up and walking over to your dresser. You slip on a sweatshirt and shorts before tugging on a pair of slippers. You quietly make your way downstairs and out of your front door. Whenever you had nightmares, good dreams, or soulmate dreams that happened to wake you up in the middle of the night you always went over to Zach’s house. Zach had been your best friend since elementary school. You were both a bit too hyper at times and the teacher had put you both in time out enough for the two of you to become friends and wreak havoc together. It also helped that you and Zach were neighbors which only drove your moms more insane trying to deal with the two of you. Throughout your childhood you had established that if you or Zach ever woke up in the middle of the night because of dreams, couldn’t sleep, or even if you just needed one another, you would wake each other up. So when you woke up from another soulmate dream you decided you needed to take a walk with your best friend and talk it over. You walk to the side of his house where his window is and notice the light is already on. Zach had always been a bit more hesitant to wake you up in the middle of the night even though you assured him a million times that it was okay. You grab a small pebble from the ground and tossed it at his window. Just as you were about to throw another one, Zach opens his window and peeks his head out. When he notices you standing underneath his window, he holds up his pointer finger signalling that he would be down in a minute. Once he shuts his window you walk back over to his front porch and wait. After a few minutes of waiting, Zach ducks out of his front door and meets you on the porch. You walk over and give him a tight hug before you two start to head to the small park you always went to together. You walk in silence for a bit before you decide to break it. “I saw your light was on, another nightmare?” You ask looking up at him. “No, actually. I had my first soulmate dream.” As you grow older, soulmate dreams became more and more prominent. Basically, you could talk to your soulmate through dreams. Even if you were across the world from each other you could still communicate if you were both asleep. Because you were older than Zach you had more soul mate dreams than him. “That’s awesome! What happened in it?” “I don’t remember much but, we were sitting somewhere just talking, I asked her questions about her life and she asked about mine and the dream ended before I could get her name. I don’t even know where we were.” “That’s how my first one was. I barely could remember as much as you did.” “What about you?” He asks. “You were the one knocking on my window.” “I found out his name.” You say smiling instantly. “Damn really?” “Yup. Daniel.” “That’s the name of one of my band mates.” Zach mentions offhandedly. “Ooo maybe it’s the same person.” You say smiling up at Zach. Zach rolls his eyes in response but smiles anyway. By this point you and Zach have made it to the park and you made your way over to the swings. You both take a seat on the swings and begin to move back and forth quietly. “I forgot to tell you, my band is gonna come visit for a while.” Zach speaks up after a little bit. “Do I finally get to meet this famous band you constantly talk about?” “Maybe.” He says smirking at you. You roll your eyes and shove Zach causing him to swing away from you. The two of you stayed out together for about an hour before you decided that you should probably head home. “When is the band coming?” You ask as you walk home. “They fly in later today.” He responds. “And I get to meet them when?” “We’ll figure that out when I wake up.” He says smiling at you. You roll your eyes at your best friend but nod your head in response regardless. When you arrive at your house, you part ways with the promise you’ll see each other later. You head back upstairs, feeling much more tired than you did an hour ago. You collapse onto your bed and pass out immediately with no dreams to disturb your sleep this time. When you wake up a few hours later, you go through your normal routine but with a slight nervousness. You had the feeling that something important was going to happen today but you couldn’t put your finger on what. You ignore the feeling and continue on with your morning. Just as you step out of the shower you hear your phone ring from the other room and you run over to grab it. You answer before you check who was calling and instantly recognize Zachs voice on the other end. “Did you ever pick up your new ukulele from the music store downtown?” He asks without even greeting you first. “Shit no I forgot. I’ll probably do that today, why?” “Cause Corbyn is here and he wanted to get a new guitar and I can’t drive and you need to go to the music store anyway so,” Zach trails off. ‘I’ll be over in 10.” You respond before hanging up. You get dressed quickly before brushing out your hair. You grabbed your keys and phone before jogging down the stairs and out the door to Zach's house. For once you ring the doorbell instead of walking in. Zach swings open the front door to reveal him and another boy next to him. He was tall with blonde hair and a wide smile settled on his lips. “Hey (Y/N/N). This is Corbyn one of my bandmates. Corbs, this is my childhood best friend.” “Hi!” Corbyn greets before holding his hand out which you take. “Ready to go?” You ask. He nods enthusiastically before following you out of Zachs house and towards your car. As you drive to the music store you ask Corbyn about the band and in turn you tell him about your friendship with Zach. “So why did you need to go to the music store?” Corbyn asks as you two get out of the car. “I bought a new ukulele online and they offered to ship it to the store. I also need to buy a strap for it. Why do you need to go?” “I’ve been needing a new travel guitar and Zach told me that there was a place down here. I figured I might as well look since I have the time.” Together you and Corbyn walk into the store but soon split up once you step inside. Corbyn immediately heads over to the guitar section while you head to the front desk. “Daniel??” You turn to see Corbyn approaching another boy that looked around your age. Before you could walk over and see who he was talking to, the guy at the front desk calls your name. You quickly verify that it’s your ukulele and take it from the guy at the front desk. You look it over to make sure there aren’t any scratches before placing it in the new case you had just bought. Just as you turn around to look for Corbyn you run right into someone. When you look up you meet a pair of captivating blue eyes. Your mouth drops open as you recognize the blue eyes and the face that goes along with it. “(Y/N)?” He asks. “Daniel.” You respond. “What?” You turn to see Corbyn looking at the two of you in confusion. You turn back to Daniel to see he still has his eyes on you. “How do you know each other?” Corbyn asks after he doesn’t get an answer to his first question. “We’re soulmates.” Daniel responds finally. “I’m gonna repeat my first question, what?” “We told each other our names last night. We’ve been talking for years now.” Daniel explains. “I️ can’t believe it.” You whisper quietly. “Neither can I️.” Daniel smiles widely at you before slipping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. You slip your arms around his neck just as he picks you up and spins you around. You giggle lightly as he sets you down. You were right. His smile really did make you go weak at the knees and you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the beauty that was his blue eyes. Daniel felt the same way about you. Just one glance and he knew he would love you till the end of his days. The way your laugh sounded was the only thing he ever wanted to hear. Your smile brightened up the room instantly and he couldn’t help but think he was the luckiest guy in the world. You both fell quickly for each other and that one run in was the beginning of the rest of your lives.

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

Part two of Shove is up next :) 

[xxredwineandambiencexx]

Sooo I missed out on Klarolineauweek because I was in the process of moving house and unfortunately my new house didn’t have wifi yet :( Anyway I did promise some Klaroline, so here’s what would have been my contribution for day 1- Crossovers and Fusions. I recently reread the Luxe Series by Anna Godberson and was inspired!

“I’m not entirely sure that you should be doing that inside.” She directs towards the dark haired beauty reclining elegantly on one of the chaise chairs, a lacquered ebony cigarette holder perched between perfectly manicured fingers.

Katerina Petrova lolls her head lazily to the side, dark gaze fixing upon her in that intense way of hers that made her feel out of step.

Katerina was the oldest daughter of the wealthy Petrova family, an old European name that had been around for hundreds of years. They were ennobled aristocracy back in Bulgaria, but it had been Katerina’s great grandfather that had secured the family fortune with a rather large success with shipping.

Katerina was never afraid of displaying her wealth, nor flaunting the rules if it served her. Smoking- a vulgar habit for young ladies of their breeding and upbringing, was only done in secret places, not in the parlour of a well established mansion on Park Avenue.

“Relax a little Forbes. God you can be so uptight sometimes.” Katerina drawls in the odd accent that is part American part Bulgarian. The other girl returned to Bulgaria at least once a year, and usually acquired a somewhat stronger accent while she was there. It took her some weeks to lose it. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

Katerina offers her the embossed tin, the Petrova family crest evident on the expensive metal.

She shakes her head in refusal, because honestly her mother would murder her.

“I think my mother would dig my grave for me if she smelt the smoke on me.” She replies lightly with a quick smile for Katerina, pink lined lips quirking just slightly as she scrunches her nose.

It’s with languid movements that Katerina stands, the folds of her waist skirt draping elegantly towards her feet as she moves towards the window, already cracked open to offer some reprieve from the Indian Summer they’d been experiencing recently.

She just fans herself with the ivory handled fan her father had brought back from Paris for her. Bill Forbes might not always be around to spend time with her and her mother, but he was there when it counted, and he brought the most exquisite gifts.

Katerina leans out the window, shoulders and neck exposed to the sun as she takes another lazy puff of her cigarette.

If she’s being honest with herself, she’s still not quite sure why Katerina had chosen her of all people to be friends with. Her family were new money, having only just recently made their fortune with oil, and she knew that them moving into Park Avenue into the obscenely big mansion had caused an absolute scandal.

Perhaps that was what had attracted Katerina. The other girl, older than her by only a year, had always seemed to have a wildness in her that was alluring and alarming all at once. There was no end to the suitors knocking on Katerina’s door, except she only seemed to have eyes for one man- Elijah Mikaelson.

He was the eldest son of the Mikaelson family, set to take over the family business when his father was ready to step aside. The Mikaelson’s were from England originally, but had very quickly established their places in the New York power set.

They threw the best parties, had the most expensive clothes, and the biggest house. She’d met Elijah only once, and Rebekah a few times, although she knew that the blonde Mikaelson absolutely loathed her for some reason that she still couldn’t quite figure out.

“God this weather is horrendous.” Katerina comments with a sigh, pressing her hand to a flushed cheek as she stubs the cigarette out on the window sill, sweeping the ashes out into the air and wiping any residue away. “I do hope it cools down a little later.”

“You’re eating into your preparation time.” She points out teasingly as Katerina rolls her lined eyes towards her.

“I’m well aware of that Caroline darling. But how else was I supposed to spend time with you? You’ve hardly had a moment to spare lately. What on Earth has that mother of yours roped you into?”

She stands, smoothing down the front of her own skirt.

“Finding me an eligible husband it would seem. At 21 I’m practically a spinster in her eyes.”

Katherine just sighs, slipping her cigarette holder and tin into the purse she carries around her wrist.

“You are absolutely not a spinster, and there is a dashing young gentlemen out there for you somewhere. Perhaps you’ll meet your match tonight, at the ball.”

She had been surprised to receive that invitation in the mail. The Mikaelson’s parties had been legendary in the past, but a slight altercation with an intoxicated Rebekah at the previous one had led her to believe that she’d be barred from the guest list forever more.

It had only been Kol’s intervention that had saved her from a rather embarrassing scene, steering his sister away with an apologetic smile.

She snorts, a rather unladylike gesture all things considered.

“Yes I’m sure a handsome Prince Charming will come and sweep me off my feet.” She pretends to swoon as Katerina catches her, a familiar routine for both of them whenever they make a mockery of the society that they’re forced to be a part of. “What was the reason for this particular party anyway?”

“The prodigal son returns.” Katerina drawls. “Niklaus. He finished his schooling last year and was doing a world tour. Now he’s in New York doing god only knows what.”

“Do we know anything about him?” She asks curiously, because she had no idea that there was another Mikaelson running around.

“Tall, blonde, a bit of a bad boy if any of the rumours are true, which they usually are.” Katerina leads the way towards the front door to where carriage would be no doubt waiting to spirit her away to her own mansion.

“Are they?” She arches an eyebrow, well aware of the rumours that seem to follow around Katerina Petrova like a grey raincloud.

Katerina just turns and gives her a slow, smouldering wink.

The party is in full swing when she and her mother arrive, her father choosing to stay in for the night to get some more work done.

Her mother, looking resplendent in a gown of grey, sticks to her side like glue, hissing at her to stand up straight and put her chest out so as to display her best assets.

“No one is going to marry you if you slouch like a serving maid.” Her mother had admonished her on more than one occasion.

She can't help but roll her kohl lined eyes to the ceiling silently, moving forward into the party silently, skirt fishtailing dramatically behind her.

The cerulean colour she’d chosen for her gown was in stark contrast to the muted pastels that the other young ladies of her set chose to wear, Elena Gilbert among them.

The girl had recently celebrated her engagement to Stefan Salvatore, who everyone agreed was much more amiable than his older brother, Damon.

Even Katerina, so resplendent tonight in her scarlet red gown, had harboured a brief period of affection for the youngest Salvatore, before discovering what a complete and utter bore he was.

“I’m going to pay a visit to Mrs Lockwood.” Her mother admits grudgingly, gathering her skirts in one gloved hand before moving off to greet the woman in question, the matriarch of the formidable Lockwood family.

Blessedly alone, she makes a beeline for Katerina, who gives her an approving once over accompanied by a wink.

“Ms Forbes you look lovely as always. A new gown?” Katerina asks knowingly, fan fluttering elegantly next to her face to ward off the sticky heat.

“Direct from Paris. A gift from my father.”

Katerina fingers the material of her skirt between gloved fingers.

“Exquisite. And no sign of the mysterious Niklaus I’m afraid. I must admit I am rather curious to see if the handsome features run in the family.”

“Elijah not here tonight?” She asks innocently of Katerina, who just gives her a smirk.

“I saw him earlier. So much easier to slip away unnoticed when everyone’s attention is focused on darling Elena and her oblivious fiance. Honestly he’ll die of boredom before he dies of old age.” Katerina drawls, gaze landing on the lady in question, who was beaming with happiness across the room, Stefan on her arm.

“Don’t be unkind Kat.” She admonishes her friend gently, with a soft rap of her fan on the other girl’s wrist. “As long as she’s happy. He certainly seems to be.”

She and Elena had been friends once, before Elena had been sent away to France for finishing school and had become obsessed with becoming a lady and being good mannered.

They’d lost touch while she’d been in France, and Elena had been somewhat wary of her friendship with Katerina since she’d returned.

Katerina just rolls her eyes with a teasing smile.

As the night wears on, she finds herself caught up in the arms of many of the young men who made up their set, the young and the rich, one of whom her mother would expect her to make a match with.

Tyler Lockwood with his handsome features was charming as always, if not a little insincere with his compliments as they waltzed together. Matthew Donovan, heir to the Donovan fortune, was kind if not a little shy as he offered her a drink.

Katerina commanded most of the attention in the room, Elijah at her side. They certainly painted a handsome picture, and she expected an engagement announcement would be imminent, if the satisfied smile on her best friend’s face was anything to go by.

“May I have this dance?” An unfamiliar voice at her side causes her to turn, and then look up into the face of the tall, sandy blonde haired man who was looking at her expectantly.

“Of course.” She replies, placing her gloved hand into his waiting one. “I must admit however, that I don’t think we’ve been previously acquainted.”

He just smiles to himself as they take their place on the floor, his hand on her waist, the other squeezing her hand tightly.

“Niklaus Mikaelson at your service, my lady. And you are?” He replies, a single eyebrow raised as they begin to move together.

“Caroline Forbes.” She replies after a beat or two. “So you’re the reason why this party is taking place. I suppose a welcome home is in order.”

“Had I known that there were such beautiful ladies waiting, I would have hastened to return sooner.”

It’s a line, and an obvious one. She can’t help but let out a short burst of laughter.

Niklaus wrinkles his nose at her outburst.

“Too obvious?” He asks innocently, even though he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Maybe just a little.” She replies as he twirls her suddenly. She allows the movement, enjoying the feel of her skirt fanning out around her legs. “How was your tour?”

The far off locales beyond the shores of America had always held a certain sense of mystique for her. While she’d been to Paris once with her father, she’d not ventured beyond that.

She’s surprised at how easy it is to fall into conversation with him as they dance, the rest of the room seeming to melt away around them.

He’s not what she expected. He seems genuine and charming, a warm smile in his face and a somewhat mischevious twinkle in his eye as he steals her for the next dance, and then the next. She can practically feel the disapproving gaze of her mother burning into the back of her neck as he continues to twirl her under the brightly lit chandelier.

Perhaps realising the impropriety of his behaviour, he steps away from her after the music fades away, sweeping her a low bow before melting into the crowd.

It’s only when she disappears that she realises just how much her heart is racing.

“Well, it seems like you and Niklaus got along swimmingly last night.” Katerina hits her over the head with a pillow as she groans and pulls the duvet over her head.

Katerina had always been an early riser, herself less so. She’d come to accept that she was never going to be a morning person, and since society deemed it perfectly acceptable for her to lay in bed for hours the day after a big party then she wasn’t going to fight it.

“Go away Kat.” She swats at her best friend, who remains frustratingly persistent, ripping the duvet away from her face and exposing her to the weak daylight filtering through the still shut curtains.

Her maid would be here any moment with chocolate and iced water, but she can’t bring herself to even want either of them at this point.

Katerina wrestles her to a sitting position, a newspaper tucked under her arm.

“Don’t you want to see what the papers are saying?” Katerina begins, shaking out the paper with a dramatic gesture.

“Not particulary.” She replies bluntly.

She’d been subject to a few mentions in the newspaper, most positive, some less than favorable.

Katerina clears her throat, glancing down at the paper.

“Last night saw the return of Niklaus Mikaelson to New York City after a period abroad. Welcomed back into the fold of New York’s elite, he seemed particularly enamoured with a certain blonde beauty  who is favourite here at the Times…”

“Ugh.” Is all she says in reply as Katerina raises a perfectly arched brow.

“Please, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors in New York, at a marrying age, and obviously attracted to you, if the way that he was devouring you with his eyes last night was anything to go off.” Katerina remarks knowingly.

A gentle tap on the door announces the presence of her maid, who moves almost silently into the room, depositing her water and chocolate onto her night stand with a shy smile.

“Thankyou Claire.” She murmurs with a nod of her head, the other girl blushing under the attention of her mistress.

“I’ve been instructed to give you this Miss Caroline.” Claire replies, bobbing her a short curtsey before reaching into the pocket of her apron, producing an envelope with her name scrawled on it in elegant cursive.

“Thank you.” She repeats once more, taking the envelope.

Claire beats a hasty retreat as Katerina snuggles in next to her.

“Go on then.” The other girl jabs her in the ribs with a sharp elbow.

She opens the envelope, taking out the two pieces of paper folded within.

The first is a rather impressive likeness of her, her head thrown back in laughter, her profile sharp and clearly defined.

The second is just  a sentence or two of elegant writing, but it’s enough to make her heart beat faster in her chest.

Caroline,

It was enchanting to meet you last night. I hope we have reason to cross paths again very soon.

Yours,

Niklaus

[madokasoratsugu]

between hearses and caskets

[platonic saizou/kazuki]

a/n: boy do i love writing vent fics at 1am:”))

ao3 / ffnet

To Kazuki, September had always been a dreary month, with the dwindling heat and encroaching chill in seasons.

Somehow, September only managed to get worse as he grew older.

Kazuki tightens the scarf around his neck, the rare frown on his face pulling tighter as he crosses off yet another memorial visit off his calendar.

The first week is over, and the second is halfway through. Still, Kazuki cannot bring himself to release the tension settled in every knot of his body just yet.

Normally Juubei would have a ready hand at his shoulder, kneading out the knots. But today was...special. Today everyone silently left him be, and for that Kazuki was grateful.

His heels click against the pavement, and he mentally winces at how loud every step seems to be. Dress shoes were so stiff and uncomfortable, but he supposes, belatedly, that they were a tad better than geta.

Kazuki glides his train pass through the reader, then crossing the barricade in a smooth motion. The train comes running up the platform not five minutes later, and he gratefully takes a seat in one of the near empty carriages.

Not many visited this part of Shinjuku, not anymore. The greenery and bushlands had grown far too thick for recreational activity, and with the ever thickening botany, even wildlife seemed to shun it.

But Kazuki knew better. Everything was hidden from sight, that was all. The flowers, the sunspots, the animals.

Even the ancient households that bore the proud names of Fuuchouin-Kokuchouin and Kakei.

Crossing his ankles, Kazuki neatly folds the cellophane wrapping he’d been holding onto in halves. Condensation clings to the plastic, to his fingers, and he wonders if the chrysanthemums he’d left at the base of the mountain would be washed away by the rain; and decides cryptically it wouldn’t really matter.

After all, the act of leaving flowers and tombstones, existent or imagined, were all done for the comfort of the living. And he was comforted enough, with the familiar sight of the arching mountaintops and heavy scent of dew.

Sometimes Kazuki wasn’t sure if there was anything in him left to comfort.

The train jerks over a particularly rough spot on the tracks and Kazuki allows himself to be shaken with it.

Watching the scenery roll by, Kazuki finds himself unable to think of any other reason he’d returned, other than obligation and routine.

‘There isn’t anything left, anyway.’ Kazuki thinks as he leaned his head against the glass divide. ‘Even if there was, none of it would belong to me.’

At that, a pang strikes his heart. He isn’t so greedy to thirst after silly things like title and heirship, but he does miss his mother’s koto and his father’s short sword.

Abruptly, Kazuki shoves the cellophane into his bag by his side, physically pressing all these thoughts back into his mind. Into the very recesses, where they should stay until next September.

He pulls out his dairy, absently flipping to the ninth month that’s littered with neat writing. Kazuki is tempted to scoff at himself for trying to believe that by keeping a journal, it would mute the reality that every event of every day in September has been etched painfully into his brain, able to be recited at a moment’s notice.

Kazuki’s weary gaze drifts down the page. Two days later, the annual string-spar between the houses.

“If I may, I would like the right to spar with the heir of the Fuuchouin main house.”

- Silver slicked grace bearing honour most men would have crumbled under, had said.

Without his noticing, the scenery had melded into highrises and telephone poles, mixed with the occasional spray of leaves. Kazuki takes it, and the following announcement as a timely signal that his stop is nearing.

“The next stop is Shinjuku station. You may change to routes B, C and E here. The next stop is Shinjuku station. Please mind your step.”

Kazuki neatly packs the notebook away, standing as the doors slide open.

Stepping out into the crowded station, he briefly takes a breath and notices the ash filled gray it tastes like.

Putting one foot before another, he decides that he doesn’t want to spend on taxi fares today. Besides, if he moved fast enough, he would get there just on time for his appointment.

Leaves crunch and crackle beneath his feet. Kazuki doesn’t look down, nor does he think of the way leaves and fire sound too similar, too loud.

His mother’s kind words, stuttering past blood filled lips, blends into the reds. As did the passion of the Toufuuin heir, led back with a mayday string of the same colour.

The blacklit glow of his scorched kimono sleeve caressed orange. As did the vicious glint of reflected moon on spectacles, a moment before it had swallowed the man whole.

That bright, frightful blaze burned into the yellow. As did the pale uniform stutter, before it gave way to a clump of black strings and a forceful hand that tore it out.

Kazuki’s next step is especially vicious.

When he turns into Ura-Shinjuku, he’s mutedly glad that the metal fortress is devoid of nearly all plant life.

His walk to the Honky Tonk is quicker than it usually is, despite the roundabout to avoid Central Park. The bell clanks into the door that swings shut behind him, and Kazuki smiles at the duo that had called him here.

“Kazu-chan!” Ginji happily greets. Kazuki figures the pastry in his hand was what kept the blond from his customary pounce.

“Yo, thread spool.” Midou says, care less as ever. When he turns to face Kazuki, his grin all but falters at the brunette’s all-black attire. Kazuki chooses not to comment at the way Midou falls silent for a second too long.

“Hello Ginji-san, Midou-kun.” Kazuki says, instead. “I understand I was called here for a retrieval…?”

After an especially long plea from both, might he add. They had been coercive at best, and desperate at worst. It was the lengthy phone call and Juubei’s silent shrug that eventually wore Kazuki down to at least, agreeing to listen to the terms of the job.

Settling down at the barstool next to Ginji, Kazuki tilts his head, not missing the way he exchanged a look with his partner.

Ginji seemed unusually nervous. Fidgeting around much more than he would, constantly messing with the poorly knitted sweater. Kazuki suppressed a need to ask for the strongest shot of espresso.

September never bore good tidings.

“Actually, Kazu-chan,” Ginji twisted his barstool to face Kazuki, who followed suit. “The job’s done.”

Kazuki blinked, not understanding.

“I mean, we never needed your help for a job! Well, I mean this is still related to the job but not the doing part, just the retrieving! I mean, retrieval. The client wanted us to bring something back for you.” Ginji explained, floundering gestures at Kazuki’s encouraging nod.

Retrieve something for him? Kazuki wasn’t sure what there was of anything of his to retrieve that wasn’t ash and bone. An awning ache in his chest grows.

Ginji shoots a glance over his shoulder at Midou, who simply takes a mouthful of his coffee. Clearly, Midou had no plans in interfering with whatever reward this retrieval entailed. Kazuki isn’t sure what this forebodes.

Then, a warm hand is enveloping his own and his attention is switched back to the blond. Ginji clasps Kazuki’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“...This is the retrieval item.” Ginji says softly, retracting his hand to dig into his pocket.

Gingerly, he pulls out a loosely held fist, turns it around and -.

An audible gasp escapes Kazuki’s lips before he can help it, throat clenching shut and brain wiring to a halt at the sight of a feathered accessory resting in Ginji’s palm.

A wild flicker, a charged grin and a dance too fast for eyes and string to follow.

Kazuki didn’t even notice his fingers were shaking until he grasped the earring, digits curling protectively around it. His other hand comes up to cup his first, a delicate shell protecting the one thing Kazuki had longed to take off his friend as he draped Fuuga’s flag over him.

String-accessories were considered the vessels of one’s spirit. To remove it from the dead was akin to desecration; and although Kazuki knew Saizou would hardly have minded him taking it as a memento, Kazuki knew the Eastern family would have mourned tenfold.

So he’d left it dangling quietly from Saizou’s ear, carving the peaceful smile into memory instead.

Kazuki wanted to smile, thank Ginji and Midou and even their mysterious client. But he found himself frozen, nothing but the feather soft against his calloused palms registering in his broken mind.

Facial muscles unable to move, eyes glazed and hands shaking.

“Kazu-chan?” Ginji tentatively asked.

Somehow, Kazuki was aware of the electricity user’s worried, floating hands, the concerned side eye of Midou, Paul, Natsumi and Rena’s careful disappearance.

Kazuki opened his mouth, willing a thank to roll off his tongue, even a careless comment or goodbye to sweep him out this establishment, but all that came tumbling out was a crooked wail.

Bending over, Kazuki sobbed.

Anguish cracked his weak pretense, the reds and oranges and painful blues bleeding through all the blacks.

Reality cracked into Kazuki once more - kind, beautiful Saizou who protected and loved honourably his whole life was no more.

The wails were almost unbearable, tearing him apart inside out, fighting to be let out.

Kazuki cried for all the years he didn’t, cried for all the funerals he couldn’t attend, cried for the Heavens that denied him passageway time and time again because duty and love would never have allowed him entry.

Guilt and regret and hurt flooded every sense of Kazuki’s, ringing in his ears.

What was he worth so much of, that people threw themselves to sacrifice for? What made his flesh and bone any more valuable than all those who had died protecting it?

“I’m glad I could protect you, my prince.”

“I - ,” Kazuki gasped, through the salty tears continuously rolling down his flared cheeks, “I ne-never got to thank him. I never even got to say - to say - goodbye - !”

Voice cracking, Kazuki bowed his head further, pressing the earring to his chest.

“He shouldn’t have - shouldn’t have died! I was - I was - The reason - And he still - still - !” Kazuki found his sentences half finished, uncompleted.

So he wailed, willing all the sadness to escape him in the form of the unsightly sounds.

Somewhere along the line, Ginji had captured him in a tight hug, muting the anguish with his sweater.

Eventually, when the anguish had exhausted itself into murmuring sadness, Ginji spoke.

“Saizou was a good man.” Ginji whispered, watery and sad. And Kazuki nodded, knocking his forehead on his clasped hands.

Blood torn uniform, a sad smile, thankful words.

“I wish,” Kazuki whispered back, “I had told him that.”

“Pretty sure he knows.” Midou says. “Anyone would figure that crying over a dying man meant that you treasured them.”

Kazuki sniffs, and Ginji presses his face into Kazuki’s hair.

“...Thank you.” Kazuki says, softly. “Both of you.”

.

.

September is still an awful month, Kazuki decides as he walks out the Honky Tonk half an hour later with bloodshot eyes.

But when the wind blows past and sets the feathered earring fastened to his left ear flying, Kazuki figures he can stick it out a little better this year.

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

I'm living for your little pirates verse! What about Wes being jealous about Beth being born and Harrison comforting him?

Thank you so much for being a fan of my Little Pirates series. I’m really glad that people are enjoying my darlings. With that being said, your prompt is a little on the tricky side, mainly because when Beth is born, Harrison is 4 years old and Wes is 2 years old, and while Wes is totally capable of being jealous of Beth, I don’t think Harrison is quite old enough to provide that comfort for him yet. So, for this one, I’ve decided to venture outside the Little Pirates side of this universe and into the Ever After side, which is all stories about Harrison, Wes and Beth when they’re older and very much coming into their own as people. So in this one, Harrison is roughly 31, Wes is 29 and Beth is 27. It’s mainly focused on Harrison and Wes reminiscing on their childhood and comparing it to Harrison’s own children in regards to jealously. Anyway, spoilers (I guess?) to the fates I have designed for all three of them. So here’s 3,600+ words on older!Harrison and older!Wes talking about…a variety of things but mainly childhood jealous towards siblings (thanks Laura for letting me bounce ideas for this prompt off you. you’re my mvp.)

Wes Jones arrived at the Rabbit Hole early Friday afternoon for his night shift to see his older brother Harrison sitting at the bar, a row of rum glasses in front of him. Wes raised his eyebrows, assessing the scene with increasing curiosity. Harrison, ever the black sheep in the Jones family, was never much of a rum drinker. That honor normally was bestowed upon their younger sister who drank rum like it was water. Harrison was very much a beer guy and generally stuck to his lagers the same way he stuck to his calf brown bomber jacket, which was to almost absurd daily routine.

If Harrison was drinking rum, it normally meant he was upset about something, but what he could be so upset about, Wes didn’t know. Harrison had his life put together. He had taken over for their mother as sheriff of Storybrooke, married a smoking hot Princess of Agrabah and had three adorable children, one of which was newly born. Harrison was the picture of stability; an unmovable, unshakeable mountain. Wes, on the other hand, was a volcano ready to erupt; half in love with the mother of his daughter, half in love with his childhood best friend, his music store was barely afloat and he could barely keep up with all the requests for magic thrown his way now that the citizens of Storybrooke realized that they now had options in regard to local magic users. All and all, Wes was amateur juggler playing with chainsaws instead of plush balls and he had far too many of them in the air.

“What do we do with drunken sailor? What do we do with a drunken?” Wes sang as he approached his brother, swinging himself over the bar and offering Harrison his signature smirk.

“Hilarious,” Harrison replied with a roll of his eyes as he threw back another glass of rum.

“You know for someone who doesn’t like being compared to Dad, you are doing an amazing rendition of Killian Jones right now. I mean, honestly, the resemblance from the face and scowl right down to the throwing back rum shots like it’s water…I’m just so impressed right now.”

“You are literally the worst bartender I’ve ever come across in my life,” Harrison replied with a roll of his eyes and if Wes was feeling a little more dick-ish, he would have taken that moment to point out that the eye roll was also very their father.

It wasn’t that Harrison didn’t like their father, quite the opposite in fact. Harrison admired the man, but he didn’t necessarily want to be him or the expectations that came with being Killian Jones. The citizens of Storybrooke however? They never seem to get that memo and loved to regale on the fact that Harrison strongly resembled their father. It always had amused Wes that they thought that. Sure, they looked similar, but that was as far as the resemblance went. Harrison was more of the same vein as their Grandfather David personality wise - morally upstanding, dependable, loyal and a tad self-righteous. It was Beth really who was all Killian Jones from her excessive use of manipulative charm to the fact she was an actual goddamn pirate complete with her own ship, adventures and a goddamn pirate husband/boyfriend/fuck buddy/whatever the hell Jim Hawkins was.

Wes, on the other hand, took after no one really in particular. He was the wild card and had always relished in that role. He never felt the need to live up or live down any one’s legacy; it gave him a sense of freedom to do with himself as he pleased. Maybe that’s why his life was comparative to a dumpster fire.

“I’m probably maybe one out of like five bartenders that you actually know, so it’s not like you have a huge pool to pick from,” Wes replied, focusing his attention on dirty glasses that were littering his side of the bar. Honestly, the new kids they kept hiring were sloppy as hell and he was getting too old for this.

Harrison frowned for a moment as if he had never thought about it before. Wes didn’t understand how he didn’t because aside from occasional cross-realm trips, they didn’t leave Storybrooke much. There was just too much going on in this ridiculous small town for either of them to leave. Sometimes, Wes envied his sister in that regard. She was the one that got away.

“You might actually be right there.”

“I know I’m right,” Wes replied with a tiny smirk. “But that doesn’t tell me what you’re doing at the bar at 4:30 in the afternoon when you have a gorgeous wife, two cute rascally sons and a painfully adorable newborn daughter at home…”

“I needed a break,” Harrison said after a moment, staring down at the bar like he was ashamed to admit it. “I need a break from everything and that’s why I came here…to unwind a bit…I guess.”

Wes nodded like he understood, which of course he didn’t. When Wes wanted to unwind and take a break from the world, he would get drunk by himself, eat cheerios out of the cereal box and watch whatever trashy reality television show his television had to offer. He didn’t go to public establishments where other people could see and, even worse, talk to him. However, that was all a matter of personal temperament. Harrison actually liked being around people, craved it even. Wes, more or less, was tolerant of people at best and while he occasionally enjoyed company, he could do without.

“Unwinding is something I can understand,” Wes said finally after a small silence fell between the two brothers. “But what the hell do you need unwinding from, Superman?”

As he glanced up from the glasses, Wes caught their reflection in the mirror located on the wall behind Harrison’s head. Night and day, they were both in coloring and demeanor and Wes was always reminded of it whenever he saw pictures of them together. Harrison had taken their father’s looks and darker coloring while Wes had taken after their mother with his near-white blonde hair and pale skin, but on the inside they were reversed. Harrison was, unfailingly, light in heart and in deed. Wes had some shadows on his soul and more than a few dark spots on his heart. He never pretended to be a saint however. No, Wes Jones wasn’t always the nicest guy on the block, but he never pretended to be otherwise.

“Sami and Kam are being awful about the new baby,” Harrison finally replied, breaking Wes from his morose thoughts, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. “Every time Kam sees us looking after Hana, he throws a fit, starts crying and will cling to us for hours. Sami asked me the other day if we could give her back and get a puppy instead.”

“Oh,” Wes blinked for a moment and then gave his brother a casual shrug. “They’re just jealous. It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Harrison looked incredulous. “How is that normal? Shouldn’t they be excited? She’s new and she’s their sister. Hell, I was excited when you guys came around.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a freak of nature, Superman,” Wes replied with a roll of his eyes. He just couldn’t help it. Of course, Harrison wouldn’t understand the concept of sibling jealously. He had been the golden boy when they were growing up. He never had to really compete the same way that Wes had to. Middle child syndrome was a very real thing and Wes had never felt a bigger kinship to his nephew Kam than he did that moment. The poor kid was going to have to deal with Sami as the oldest and Hana as the youngest. “It’s normal to hate your siblings. I mean I hated Beth for the longest time when we were little. Bitch got away with everything when we were kids. Still does.”

“You hated Beth? But you guys were close growing up,” Harrison said, staring at Wes like he had been replaced with an alien. On some days, Wes wished that was true particularly on days when he and his ex-girlfriend Bobbi couldn’t decide on a schedule in regards to their two year old daughter Gina.

“We were close when we were teenagers,” Wes corrected. “Because Beth kinda became cool about things and you weren’t, but when we were little, I kinda hated her because she was the baby and everyone adored her, especially Dad. Beth could have committed murder and Dad would have still looked at her like the sun rose and fall on her ass.”

“You say that like you never got away with anything,” Harrison responded, taking his last glass and draining it. He then made a gesture for Wes to pour him another line.

Wes paused for a moment, studying his older brother. He got just gotten to the bar and Harrison had seven glasses in front of him. Harrison was a relatively large guy who would look comfortable on a college football line and he could certainly hold his liquor, but Wes wasn’t sure exactly how many shots he had prior to the seven empties. To be safe and somewhat responsible for once (irony of this was not lost on him), Wes poured his older brother a pint of lager instead. Harrison scowled in response, but said nothing about the change.

“I did get away with things, but it wasn’t because I was the “baby” like she was. I got away with things because I got good at getting around everyone and it’s easy to ignore the middle child. Especially in our family. I mean you were the golden boy. Beth was Daddy’s little sweetheart. Me? I was just the bad kid. The disappointment. Still kinda am,” Wes replied honestly.

“Please tell me that you don’t believe the proverbial pile of shit you just laid on this bar.” Harrison slammed his fist down on the bartop and the sound of it thundered throughout the Rabbit Hole. A few patrons a few seats away looked at Harrison in a mixture of fear and startlement. They took their drinks and located to another table. Smart people. Harrison was known for breaking things when he wasn’t being careful and breaking a bar top would not be out of character for him.

“It’s not shit. It’s the truth,” Wes replied. “I mean, look at you. You’re Sheriff and you’re married to your true love and you’ve got three beautiful if slightly bratty children. And Beth? Beth’s gonna surpass Dad as scourge of the seas, she’s been to more realms than probably everyone that has ever existed and she’s got Jim fucking Hawkins wrapped around her finger. We won’t even touch Henry because he’s just a level of perfection that not even you, the golden Jones boy, can obtain. Me? I’m just-“

“The most powerful magic user in Storybrooke who has surpassed the Dark One, Regina, Gideon and Bobbi in ability if anyone in this damn town would be honest about it. You’re the most cunning and adaptable man who can survive anything that’s thrown at him and not in the bullshit way that Dad survives strictly because Mom won’t lie him die, I mean, like actually survives through sheer force of will and wit. You’re also the most honest man I know. You’ve never pretended to be anything you weren’t. You never tried to be perfect. You were always true to who you were and I admire you for that,” Harrison said fiercely looking Wes straight in the eye. “And you’re absolutely the best father that Gina could ever ask for and she looks at you like you are her biggest hero and you are. She could not have asked for a better father.”

“I’m pretty sure that Gideon might be slightly higher on the Best Dad scale than me,” Wes answered quietly, looking anywhere but at his brother because he honestly can’t handle the emotions that are welling up inside of him. Wes was never big on handling emotions. Emotions weren’t his department. Sarcasm, anger and lust were things he understood and he could handle those three. Anything else was foreign territory.

“No, you’re Gina’s world,” Harrison asserted and the sincerity in his voice made Wes want to crawl in a hole and die. “Seriously, I don’t understand where all of this is coming from, Wes. You’ve always been the cool one out of all of us. You were incredibly popular in school. Everyone always turns to you when they need help, myself included, and I don’t think there’s anyone in this town wouldn’t drop everything to jump in bed with you…still. Honestly, it’s ridiculous how many girls, guys and whatever would line up at the chance just to talk to you.”

“That’s because you would never give them the time of day and I would, Har. Every girl in high school used to look at you and you never noticed. How you managed to realize that Nasira was into you, I will never know…” Wes replied, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, she made herself very clear,” Harrison replied with a heavy blush that piqued Wes’s curiosity. Perhaps he needed to pay his sister-in-law a visit and ply her with some good wine to get the story out of her. “And it’s not that I didn’t notice…I did…it’s just…”

Harrison trailed off and decided to finish his beer in a fashion that Wes could only describe as speed chugging. Wes waited patiently for him to finish and when Harrison slammed the glass down, Wes immediately took it and started to clean it instead of pouring another. Harrison gave him a dark look.

“You didn’t finish your story,” Wes explained. “And you’re not getting another beer until you tell me why you never hooked up with anyone outside of Nasira.”

“You really want to know?” Harrison looked down at his hands, color rising high in his cheeks. “The real reason is because whenever anyone looks at me they don’t see me. They see Dad. And one time, at party, I was kissing this girl and she called me Hook.”

Wes couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that escaped his throat. He stepped back, his arms spread protectively across his stomach in hopes that he wouldn’t bust a gut from the force of his laughter. Harrison glowered at him, obviously not happy with his brother’s response to the confession.

“No! That didn’t happen!” Wes snickered, wiping the tears that had sprung from his eyes.

“It did,” Harrison responded grimly.

“Oh man, oh man.” Wes shook his head, trying to stave off his laughter. “Oh god, that…that’s both the most hilarious and the most disturbing thing I have ever heard in my life. I hope you discussed that trauma in therapy.”

“I did. Still do in fact,” Harrison responded. “Archie and I have discussed it much at length. I think he’s almost as disturbed by it as I am.”

“Jesus,” Wes shaking his head as he picked up a glass and poured his brother another beer. He deserved it after that big reveal. He’s not sure he would have survived if the same ordeal had happened to him. It explained so much about his older brother and why he had been so gun shy around women and so uncomfortable taking comments about his appearance. “I gotta know though. Who was it?”

“I’m never telling you that. It will literally change your entire perception of her and I don’t think I can do that to you because once I say it, you won’t be able to think of anything else,” Harrison replied.

“Do I even want to know what you lads are talking about?” Killian Jones asked his sons as he sat down at the bar next to Harrison, regarding both of his sons with an arched eyebrow. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Harrison and Wes exchanged a look as they regarded their father. Wes couldn’t help letting out one last snicker and Harrison gave him murderous look over his pint glass, silently warning him that he wasn’t afraid to pick up his younger brother and toss him over his head WWE style. Wes took the message to heart. He knew better than to test Harrison who could probably bench press twice Wes’s weight.

“We were just discussing Harrison’s brat problem,” Wes said casually as he poured his father two fingers worth of rum and passed him the glass casually. “Sami and Kam aren’t happy about little baby Hana. They’re a bit jealous.”

“Ah. That’s normal. It will pass. Both of you didn’t take too kindly to new additions,” Killian responded as he took the glass, tipped his head in thanks and took a healthy drink. The old pirate smacked his lips a bit as the liquor went down his throat and Wes someday hoped to get on his father’s drinking level.

“Wait! Both of us? I thought Harrison was all excited for us,” Wes remarked, glancing at Harrison out of the corner of his eyes. Harrison looked confused by his father’s comments, thick eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement.

“He was excited about Beth because Beth was a girl and he didn’t have to share his toys like he did with you,” Killian corrected, fixing them both with a small smirk. “Harrison nearly threw a riot when we came home with you and refused to even look at you. He hid all of his toys for weeks because he thought you were going to steal them.”

“And right, I was,” Harrison muttered under this breath. “I never got the firetruck back.”

“Oh, fucking hell! You’re not bringing up the firetruck again! I honestly have no recollection of a firetruck! You cannot keep giving that up, Har! You’re thirty-one fucking years old!” Wes responded in annoyance, raking his hands through his long blonde hair in frustration.

“The firetruck?” Killian frowned for a moment. “You mean the one that Dave got you when you were five that made the siren noises and lit up? I hated that thing. I threw it out. That thing was a menace.”

“So I actually didn’t steal it?” Wes blurted out the question before he could even think. He cringed internally at how that question sounded. “So Harrison has been holding this over my head for years for no reason?”

“Not the firetruck no, but you did take a lot of things from Harrison and Harrison hid a lot of things from you. Your mother likes to call it call the Four Years Treasure Hunt whenever we talk about it. However, we’re getting off topic with this firetruck nonsense,” their father remarked, giving them both pointed look over his glass. “The point is that it’s completely normal for kids to be jealous of new arrivals in the family and it’s your job as parents to remind them that new additions aren’t going to replace them or take their toys or whatever the issue is.”

“How do you suppose we do that, oh wise silver fox?” Wes asked with a raised eyebrow and Harrison nearly choked on his beer. He glared at Wes as he coughed, giving himself a thump on the chest.

Killian set his glass down and Wes watched as his eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline in response to the name that he had been given. His blue eyes darted between his sons as if he was trying to discern what exactly he had missed prior to his arrival to the bar. Half of Wes wanted to tell his father Harrison’s story just to see his reaction, the other half that desperately wanted to live to see Gina graduate from high school knew to refrain.

“I’m not going to even question where that came from,” Killian responded finally. “I’m going to stay on track here and just advise you to bloody talk to your children and let them know that they’re still special and have a place in the family. Maybe even find an activity to bond over. I would like to think I at least tried to bond with you lads.”

“You did. We just sucked at sword fighting,” Harrison responded with a casual shrug. “Though learning to sail was pretty cool growing up. I’m just hoping Beth doesn’t steal the Jolly before my kids are old enough to learn too. You did good, Dad. If I’m half the father you were, my kids will turn out alright.”

“Beth isn’t stealing the Jolly anytime soon. Beth also isn’t going anywhere anytime soon either so you can relax on that,” Killian replied cryptically. Harrison and Wes looked at each other in puzzlement over that statement, but when their father didn’t elaborate, they let it drop.

“Suck up. Thirty-one years old and you’re still sucking up to Dad,” Wes responded with an affectionate eye roll. There was no heat behind his words. “Though, all kidding aside, yeah. You did pretty okay considering the three hellions you were dealt. I mean Henry is the biggest success out of all of us, but I’m not sure he counts in this regard because he was what? Ten? When you met?”

“He counts and you’re all successes,” Killian responded in a tone that brokered no argument. He flourished it with an eye roll of his own and for a moment Wes considered that he might actually have inherited something from the old man. “Now, the lot of you need to stop focusing on the past and focus on your lives as present. Harrison, your wife just had a baby two weeks. Go home and be with them. Talk to your boys and tell them to that their sister isn’t going to replace them. If they don’t listen, send them my way and Grandpa will spoil them for a day. And you!”

He cut his eye towards Wes for a moment and gave him a grave expression. Wes felt a lecture coming and braced himself for it.

“Stop taking Friday night and weekend shifts at this shithole,” Killian said seriously. “You have a daughter now. You need to spend time with her or you’re going to miss everything. I know that you and Bobbi have brought Gideon into the fold for raising her, but she’s your kid, Wes. You need to step it up. Do I make myself clear, lads?”

Harrison and Wes shared a look for a moment before responding. It seemed parenting didn’t necessarily stop when your children were grown. “Yes, Captain.”