#as if he pays any sort of RENT in links house!

[twin-chains]

So a lot of item mechanics in Triforce Heroes come from A Link Between Worlds with slight differences (fire glove vs fire rod etc)

I can’t decide if this should mean

1) Ravio has been to the dark world equivalent of Hytopia and was inspired by Hytopian inventions to develop his own magic items before going to ALBW

2) Ravio was a magic item inventor who went to Lotopia and sold some of his items there first, causing the prevalence of similar items to make its way to Hytopia in Triforce Heroes

3) Lotopia would actually be very fashion-backwards and not have cool magic items like Ravio’s sans triforce and Ravio is coincidentally just a brilliant magic items-smith

[theorphicangel]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. | 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦!) 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 |

[ “𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿?” ]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

synopsis: You're pretty good at sticking to rules. Always have been. And for the past three years you would think that you've been good enough to stick to the rules of being a roommate.

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love. Under any circumstances.

Rule number two: Follow to rule number one.

Easy enough to follow.

Right?

series | previous chapter | next chapter

Chapter 4: April.

cw: suggestive themes, 18+

“Levi! Come look at this rock!”

Levi comes to a stop. He’s only a little ahead of you and yet you can already imagine the frown on his face before he turns.

“Why? So you can throw it at me? That’s attempted murder.” He deadpans.

You snorted aloud, watching him stroll over to you with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, don’t start giving me ideas, not when we’re getting along so well. I might just use it against you, and it’s not attempted if I succeed.”

“Too bad we’re in the open. Save it for later.” Levi turns to make his way back to the path but he stops again. “Who said that we were getting along well?”

“Well, you stopped calling me an idiot for one. That really annoyed me at one point.”

Levi snorts. “I’d like to see you try and pick that shit up anyways… idiot.”

“Hange’ll help me.” You say, purposely ignoring his insult.. At your comment Levi merely rolled his eyes as, unfortunately, you had a point.

If anything Hange would agree to any stupid thing you’d say. Together you were like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum…only twice as worse. If Levi could prevent one moment from happening, it would have been the moment that the two of you met. If he’d known that you and Hange would live up to the expectations of making Levi’s life a pure hell, he wouldn't have taken you over to Hange’s house that day.

You laugh out loud suddenly, as if you had read Levi’s personal thoughts. “Don’t tell me you actually think we’ll carry this out.”

“Wouldn’t beat it past you.” Levi spoke, turning around and heading back to the path. You follow him diligently, wanting to keep up with him.

You quickly join his side abruptly bumping into his side. With this action you smoothly link arms with him. For a second you feel his body go stiff, freezing up in surprise but shockingly he doesn’t seem to protest by it.

You lean into him slightly as you tease. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on murdering my favorite roommate just yet.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh as you both walk down the path together, taking a slow pace.

“Okay one: I’ve been your only roommate… two: ‘just yet’?... I may as well take your guilty ass down to the police station myself.”

You shrug casually, ignoring his last threat. “One: Not many people have had the ability to earn the title of favorite roommate, so be grateful you jackass… and two: sure, I’ll give you credit for being the first but what about when I move out?”

Levi frowns almost immediately, a horrible taste in his mouth at the slight proposal of your last point. Levi feels his stomach suddenly drop and he tries to keep a light hearted tone in his voice as he questions you further. “What’d you mean when you move out?”

“After I murder you, I’ll need to find a new roommate of course, I can’t pay rent by myself.”

Levi rolls his eyes again but this time his shoulders seem to drop with a sort of internal relief. Levi hopes you won’t bring that up again, not even as a joke. He’s not looking forward to that conversation. Not for a long time anyways.

“So you’ll go off and find a new victim?”

“Something like that, although I don’t think anyone else will be as annoying as you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Levi scoffs in reply.“And where exactly are you planning to hide my body?”

“Not sure.” You murmur softly. “Wanna help me with ideas?”

“Fuck no.”

You pull a frown. “I want to find a comfortable spot for you.”

“Comfortable? I’m dead.”

“Whatever, I still want to keep your soul in peace y’know?”

“You are absolutely fucking ridiculous.” Levi mutters. “I should’ve recorded this so that I can prove to the whole world how fucking crazy you are.”

“They would never believe you.” You taunt. “Plus it was you who made the suggestion in the first place, doofus.”

“Are you sure about that?” Levi asks, tilting his head to look over at you. You notice his dark locks falling gently beneath his brow.

“Positive.”

Letting out a giggle and him a withdrawn scoff you continue to stroll down the path, arms still linked with his.

The local park was pretty quiet, give or take for a few lonesome people. You put this to the responsibility of the gloom of rain clouds approaching your overhead. You and Levi both randomly agreed to go out for a walk to clear your minds from rotting in the apartment all day. But it was suggested to you in particular.

Over the past few days Levi had noticed how you had been cooped up in your room all day, waiting for a text back from… him.

Earlier, Levi had thought for a second that you were alluding to about moving out to go live with Daniel. It was simply a joke. You didn’t even explicitly mention Daniel at all but it didn’t take long for Levi to quickly jump to conclusions.

Although you’d played it off as a lighthearted joke Levi would be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried about it turning to reality one day.

But who is he kidding? You’re only roommates. Friends even. Not…lovers. He has no right to get upset about what you choose to do in the future.

It’d be wrong to think of you as his. Completely wrong. And it’d be wrong to think of the ways you’d touch him. Particularly, late at night when he can’t sleep he’s conjuring up the ways that you would please him. It’s certainly wrong to think of you with his fist wrapped around his cock, imagining that it was yours.

How would you react?

Would you be gentle with him?

How would you sound when he touches you?

How would you sound when he enters you for the first time? When he fills you up? How would he feel when you're clenched around him? And what would the look on your face be when you–

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking that. Not when you’re right next to him.

“Are you alright?” You ask, noticing Levi’s silence. You felt his body suddenly stiffen.

“Yeah, yeah.” He plays off, trying to fixate his mind on anything, anything at all. Anything but you. In order to succeed in this, he thinks of the worst thing possible. And it seems to do the trick on getting his past thoughts to evaporate.

“Have you heard back from–”

He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence to get you to understand what he’s trying to say. Levi can barely say his name, mentally cursing himself for bringing him up. This walk was supposed to be an attempt to get your mind off him.

Lately, Levi’s noticed how you linger around your phone. Constantly refreshing your screen in the hope of receiving an immediate notification.

You shake your head beside him. Levi notices your facial expression drop at the topic of conversation and a sea of regret floods his entire body.

“No but…” you pause, taking a moment to search for some words. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“It wouldn’t be reasonable enough.” Levi mutters under his breath, and he succeeds in getting a small smirk from you. The two of you continue to walk at a slow pace down the path, a comfortable silence emerging.

“I know you hate him.”

“What made that obvious?”

You chuckle at the sound of Levi’s sarcastic tone. “From the moment he came into the apartment and forgot to take his shoes off I knew that he would never be able to live up to your expectations ever again.”

Levi huffed, as if the remembrance of that occasion physically pained him.

“But I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now. You probably scared him off with all your glaring.”

“I was not glaring.”

“Oh yeah? And the sky is purple.”

“I didn’t say a word to him.”

“You didn’t have to.” you remarked. “It was obvious by your face that you didn’t like him.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Try and tone it down next time.” you sigh. “I really do want to make it work with him y’know?”

“I know.” Levi says, a random feeling of dejection in his heart and it takes all of him not to add to the end of that sentence ‘but you deserve so much better.’

A crease appears between his brows at your words of a ‘next time.’

Levi hopes there won’t be a next time. Deep down he hopes that there won’t be another time of Daniel coming over invading Levi’s personal space with his shitty jokes and pathetic conversation. He hopes there won’t be a next time of witnessing how Daniel eagerly tries to show off constantly to try and win your heart, blissfully unaware that you deeply dislike it.

He hopes there won’t be a next time when Daniel comes to stay over for the night and Levi is left to hear your muffled moans through the walls. It’s a violent reminder that he’s not getting the privilege of knowing you intimately. He hopes there isn’t a next time where he has to watch Daniel sneak out through the front door, not bothering to wait until you wake with claims of work at his excuse.

Levi truly hopes that there won’t be a time where he watches your innocent heart get played with.

“Ducks.” you say randomly, causing Levi to emerge from his thoughts.

“What?”

You’ve both now reached the lake that stretches wide and far, creating an oval shape in the center of the park. Over to the right there’s a bridge that leads to the other side of the park.

“Ducks.” You repeat, now delving your hands in your pockets to look for your phone. “Lemme take a picture.”

“Swans.” Levi points out impassively.

“And ducks. Same thing.”

“Hardly.”

You ignore his last comment as your thumb clicks the white circle, taking multiple photos of the scenery despite the gray sky and all.

“Take one with me in it.” You turn towards him, holding out your phone to him. For a few seconds he merely stares at your phone in silent protest. You tilt your head in pure persuasion. “Pretty please?”

He rolls his eyes, unable to resist your somewhat adorable charm.

“Whatever.” He mumbles taking your phone as you walk ahead of him ready to pose. Levi sighed before tilting your phone landscape to get a full view of the lake and the swans behind you.

“Smile.” he deadpanned before focusing on taking the photo.

A cheesy grin spread across your face, your hands gesturing towards the swans and ducks. Levi couldn’t help but shake his head at the way you posed bashfully.

“Are you finished?” he mutters, after you start changing poses numerous times. “I think your storage is full.”

Your face drops. “Wait really?” And in a blink of an eye you’re by his side with a concerned look on your face as you glance at your phone screen. “Wait where?”

It then dawns on you that he just wanted you to stop.

“Fuck you.”

“It was for your own reputation. Murderers can’t be seen making goofy poses in the local park.”

“They were not goofy–”

Your argument soon gets interrupted by a stranger approaching and you could tell someone was coming based on the way Levi’s eyes squinted behind you and how his teasing expression began to disappear.

You turned to see an elderly woman, who you assume to be out on possibly on her daily walk.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but admire the two of you and I was wondering if you would like me to take a picture of you and your boyfriend?”

The question makes you double take immediately. Your cheeks grow warm and you stutter for an answer as you and Levi both go silent.

“Oh, no he’s not my–” you begin before you’re interrupted by Levi.

“Sure.”

Levi hands her the phone, your phone, and the two of you both shuffle backwards,

At first you’re unsure of how to pose but quickly relax and wrap an arm around Levi’s waist. Once again, you can feel how his body stiffens yet he ends up positioning his arms around your shoulders.

“Thank you!” you say, taking back the phone after she had taken a few pictures.

“The two of you remind me of my late husband and I. We met when we were quite young and we’d come to this park almost every day together.” As she comes to a pause, she bows her head making your heart ache for her as she remembers her gone soulmate.

“Keep each other close and don’t take each other for granted.” The older woman murmurs her advice. “You two are a beautiful couple. Please cherish every moment you spend together and don’t regret it.”

“Oh uh– thank you.” You nod, the idea of breaking the truth now a thought that you had pushed away.

You nudged Levi discreetly, who was listening silently with a blank expression, to say his gratitude. You wave at the woman who shuffles away, heading over to the bridge.

For a moment, there was a silence between you and Levi. Neither of you are sure how to carry on from that experience.

You take the opportunity to go first. “Why would you say that?”

Levi shrugs, “It’d be more embarrassing for us if we had to explain ourselves. It’s not like it’s the first time people have assumed, so I just thought to let it–be.”

You nod slowly, coming to realize that he’s right.

It was an honest and harmless mistake and that lady was not the first to think that you and Levi were more than just roommates or friends. It has gotten pretty exhaustive and repetitive to state your friendship so now, you don’t really care about the assumptions that people make about the two of you and by the looks of it…neither does he.

A small smile reaches your lips before carrying on with your stoll and in silence the two of you admire the lake which stretches to the other half of the park. On approaching the bridge, dark clouds of rain seem to be heading your way and this is the moment where you internally curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella.

“Maybe…we should start heading back to the car.” You suggest, anxious of the heavy shade of gray that looms over you.

“I second that.” Levi murmurs, beside you. “Let’s head back.”

Making a U-turn, the two of you decide to leave the opportunity to explore the other side of the park for another day as your weather app informs of heavy rain to begin in the next ten minutes which will continue for the rest of the afternoon.

You’re a little deflated, disappointed that your day had to come to a short end. Making your way back to the car, you and Levi briskly walk in an attempt to make it back to the apartment with your bodies as dry as possible but once you felt a large raindrop fall onto your skin, you knew that the raingods had come to curse you.

“Fuck’s sake.” you mutter underneath your breath, eyes watching the once dry pavement beneath your feet soon become patterned with raindrops. In a rush, Levi grabs your hand fiercely, taking you by surprise as he continues his pace despite the rain beginning to unleash its worst.

For a second he was optimistic. Thinking that perhaps this would be a slow start before the real downpour was set but his thinking has failed him as the light raindrops turn heavy and every inch of his body seems to become an antonym to the word dry.

You pull at his hand which causes him to abruptly halt for a moment to turn and look at you.

And by god were you a sight for sore eyes.

Your face is dripping with rain, clothes dark with precipitation and your waterproof mascara suddenly not living up to its name. It’s more than obvious that you needed to get somewhere dry. You both are in need of it.

Levi looks around, scanning for a place where the two of you can find shelter, the number of people in the park now becoming scarce. Unfortunately, there’s no buildings nearby but Levi spots a large oak tree whose branches seem to provide a decent enough roof for the two of you.

His hand, albeit wet, is still tightly wrapped around yours, guiding you to the tree as you try to blink away the on coming raindrops from your eyes. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to reach your safe haven whilst the rain is still smacking against the concrete.

Contrastingly, the ground is soft underneath your feet and you can feel yourself slightly sink a little into the ground with each step. Levi, of course, makes his complaints known by cursing as loudly as he can over the rushing sound of rainfall.

“Shit, I didn’t know this would be muddy. Maybe we should go somewhere else?” His eyes were already searching for a new location, a location with shelter and of appropriate ground.

You shake your head, raindrops falling from your head. “It’s fine, I don’t want to go back out there again.”

Although the leaves of the oak tree aren’t completely dense, you’re still glad that the amount of raindrops that are now falling on you has now slowed to a much relaxed pace.

You sniffle a little, wiping off the raindrops from your face, trying as much as you can to dry yourself up but you don’t seem to get much luck from your otherwise soaked sleeves.

“You alright?” Levi asks. And now you can hear his voice a little better as the volume of the rain has quietened down.

You nod wordlessly, straining your clothes from any damp, watching as water is squeezed out of your materials. You curse aloud, only now realizing the extent of being in the rain without the umbrella. You’ll just have to manifest to the universe tonight that you won’t catch a cold but you can’t completely disregard that consequence.

“Take this.” Levi mutters before taking off his black jacket. “I mean it’s pretty soaked, but you should stay warm. You don’t want to be catching a cold.”

You smirk a little at his offer. “I’m pretty sure it’s set in stone by now, don’t worry. You should keep it on, you might catch a cold.”

“Says the one whose immune system is weaker than an egg shell.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright jerk, just ‘cause you only get sick approximately every 5 years.”

You expected a laugh from him, maybe even an insult but instead you watch the frown on his face grow deeper, him still gesturing for you to take his jacket. “You’re shivering. Take it.” His tone is a little more forceful and before you could even respond, you found comforting material wrapped around your shoulders.

It's only now that you're aware of the sudden close proximity between the two of you. His features are somehow more prominent in the rain. The front locks of his jet black hair have raindrops dripping down onto his face, dripping from his nose and sliding down his cheeks to meet his sharp jawline.

Somehow the rain just makes him look even more…attractive.

“Levi, I’m fine I swear.” You grumble, trying to distract your mind as the warmth from his body transitions to yours. Your retaliations are continuously ignored, leaving you no choice but to accept the gesture gratefully.

“Thanks.”

Levi’s eyes meet yours. “No problem.”You blink and you’re suddenly lost in them.

The gray of his iris mixed with a hint of light blue, which is apparent if you squint and you can’t help but worship their beauty.Your eyes move to glance at his lips. Pink and plump, with water dripping from his cupid’s bow. You’re not really sure why your eyes suddenly fixate on those, but your heart does seem to race faster and all of a sudden you’re now wondering how soft he would feel against your own lips, your own skin.

Looking back at him, he’s still fixated on you and the two of you are stuck like a photo in time. The only thing that reinforces the notion that you’re not living in a freeze frame is the rush of downpour that streams behind you.

Swallowing thickly, you just wonder…whether…maybe…if you just leaned in to –

You clear your throat suddenly, stepping back and sniffing. You turn away to wipe the tip of your nose.

No. Absolutely not. Get that thought out of your head.

“Sick already?” Levi presumes and there’s a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah.” You brush off. “Do you think it’ll ever calm down?”

The rush of downpour continues to aggravate the stone pavement, water dripping off the leaves above.

“Should do.”

“Or should we just run for it?”

“You’ll get sick.”

“Which is inevitable either way I’m sure.” you shrug.

Levi raises a brow. “You sure?”

“Undoubtedly sure.”

“You’ll regret it.”

Rolling your eyes, you begin to step forward where the downpour of rain doesn’t hesitate in drenching you again. “Are you coming or not, Ackerman?”

Rolling his eyes, he follows you, making a mental reminder in his mind to get his favorite stash of tea out when you both get home. Immediately.

And boy, did you regret it.

There’s nothing more you hate in life than being constrained to your bed, with endless tissues that come with an endless amount of sneezes and snot. Not to mention the sore throat or the banging headache that returns every hour even after taking medicine.

But what you hated the most was having to deal with a smugass roommate whom you had to rely on for basic needs. After multiple ‘I told you so’s’ and his own endless amount of complaints and criticism for you, you decided to fulfill his ego and express your regret for your decision.

It was bad enough that you were sick but now you had Levi taking care of you. You were currently under the pretense that he absolutely hated every single moment which, unbeknownst to you, was terribly false.

Entering your room with your third cup of tea this morning, he caught you in the midst of a sneezing fit whilst placing the steaming hot china cup down on your bedside table. And of course he loudly grimaced as he did so.

“Shut up.” you groan, your voice croaky from your illness.

“I–”

“I told you so, yeah, yeah are you finished?”

Levi frowned. “I was going to say that I could get you another pack of tissues if you wanted them?”

“Oh.” you say dumbly. “Right. That would be great thanks.”

Levi quickly disappeared from your room and arrived by the next minute, a new pack of tissues in his hands.

“Sorry.” You mumble, accepting the package.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.” you sigh. “I’ve got you running around the house like a madman all because I’m sick.”

“Again.”

“Again.” you repeat, a small smile appearing across your lips.

“Thank you.” you say, after a long pause of silence.

“For what?”

You roll your eyes, honestly sometimes you really want to smack Levi against the wall. He can be so dense, which is surprising for someone who has achieved the highest grade possible at university.

“For this.” you gesture around. “For helping me out.”

He shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”

You hummed, “I’m getting pretty used to having you as my slave, maybe I won’t kill you at all.”

Levi clicked his tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, princess.”

Whether it was the pet name or your fever spiking up again– though you wish to believe the latter– your cheeks suddenly burned and you looked away in hidden embarrassment. You cleared your throat before speaking again.

“I really do mean it though, thank you.”

Levi sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s the bare minimum I can do as your roommate.”

There it goes again. Your constant reminder.

You’re roommates, nothing more, nothing less. At the end of the day, you’re around each other merely because of a single contract.

You’re roommates, this is normal, the bare minimum.

This is what friends do. Not lovers.

Yet… you can’t stop yourself from thinking about if you were. Shaking your head you attempt to pull that thought out of your head. No, no, no, you’re with Daniel. Thinking about Levi? That would be wrong.

But could it be so wrong that he’s the only thing that you can think about late at night?

When you touch yourself underneath the sheets, it’s Levi’s name that you moan softly to yourself, fantasizing over the ways he would touch you. It’s embarrassing to admit but… Daniel’s never managed to please you properly. The only way that you can reach your full release is by imagining if it was Levi.

But it was wrong. So wrong. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering.

How would he touch you? What would he feel like? Would he be soft and gentle with you or the complete opposite? What would he sound like when he–

You inhale sharply which catches Levi’s attention.

“You okay?” He asks.

You nod. “Just really cold.” You play off, trying to get rid of that dirty thought about your roommate.

You couldn’t. You were loyal to Daniel, even if he seems to take weeks to respond.

You couldn’t ever because you’re pretty sure Levi doesn’t even feel the same way.

If he did then you would’ve known by now. There would’ve been a hint.

You think back to Valentine’s day. Perhaps if you didn’t have a date with Daniel would he have asked you out?

No. Don’t be stupid. You are roommates.

The number one rule of being roommates is universal: Don’t fall in love with each other.

Snapping you back to reality, Levi picks up the cup of tea on your bedside table.

You cough a little. “Levi, I’m fine, really. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“You can’t murder me if you’re sick right?”

You laugh, which soon falls to a series of heavy coughs. With his free hand, Levi rubs reassuring circles on your back, once you’re alright he holds out the teacup for you to sip. You do so obediently, the hot liquid satisfying your body. You let out a deep exhale, reclining back into your bed.

“So when I get better you’ll watch out?”

He nods, smirking a little. “I’ll always watch out for you. Always.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

taglist:

@xxdarkdarlingxx@katestrophes@drdaddystrange @bejewelledd @medli-komali @fondalilly @alyssa212 @apolloshaiku @xinsonyax @chunea @asa-the-ace @thevelria @midnightdrearyyy @hybridrainbow @mrsackermannx @burningxaces @omlbarnes @flowersun @taehyung-luv @velouria17 @444chim @sujiroses @aslantes @pepsicolacoochie @you-always-made-me-blush @woozzz @meowjaa @L1zk4 @geektasticjustine @crazychaoticizzy @booksoffracturedescapes @yevskys_crime

[serahlink]

‼️‼️HELP A HOMELESS ARTIST (EMERGENCY COMMS OPEN)‼️‼️

Reblogs are also greatly appreciated!! :)

Making a new post since things are getting really bad again and we're in desperate need of help at the moment. For those who don't know me, you can call me Link (he/him), I'm a homeless artist and since November 2021 my family and I (father and younger sibling) have been homeless and living out of a motel. Since we don't have any family or friend support, or a way to get a job at the moment, I've been doing commissions to try and keep us fed and housed until something changes. I'll put some receipts below.

Ever since the rents been raised here, it's been a bit troublesome trying to cover things day by day, which we rarely can do. Even food is something that we can't afford sometimes. Right now, we're in that sort of state. So far, we haven't been able to cover the room for two days and getting food has been very difficult for us due to the lack of work. We owe 200$ for the room tomorrow (rent is 65$ a day). While the people here are nice and give us extensions with time and such, we were told if we can't pay tomorrow then we would be kicked out. We have nowhere to go if that happens, no family or friends we can stay with.

So, I'm opening commissions to try and stop that from happening. I'll put some examples and prices below. I mainly draw fantasy oriented stuff such as DnD, Dragon Age, Baldurs Gate, etc. but I can do OCS of any genre/variety. My turn around time is varied depending on the commission and our living situation since it's very unpredictable. For smaller commissions, I take around two weeks. And for bigger ones it could take up to two weeks to a month. Again that could vary. I don't do heavy gore, anything weird or NSFW (I've never drawn it so I'm not confident in selling it). Also, refunds cannot be given. If there's anything that needs to be changed about a commission, I will do it free of charge but refunds are something we can't do due to us needing to use the funds immediately. Either for food or the room.

Please, if anyone could share this or help us out, my family and I would very much appreciate it. Thank you. :")

~Prices~

Sketch (price depending on type of sketch) - base price of 15$

Sketch page - 15$ per sketch

Headshot - 25$ (+10$ if shaded)

Bust - 35$ (+10$ if shaded)

Half body - 50$ (+10$ if shaded)

Full body - 70$ (+15$ if shaded)

Couples Commission (a commission that includes two people) - 90$ (+15$ if shaded)

Group commissions (commission that includes more than two people, price dependant on the details) - 60 base price(one character, unshaded; each extra character is +75% to the original price) (40$+ if shaded)

Paintings (price depending on the details) - 100$+

[skyward-floored]

Twilight Princess - oneshot

Crossposting some more oneshots from ao3, here’s the tp one :)

Ilia is one of those characters I feel like people love ignoring, which is a pity because I really feel like she has a lot of potential. I don’t know that tp did the best job with her, but I still like her a fair amount. Think I’m in the minority there though XD

Ao3 link

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Ilia woke up in the dead of night with a soft gasp, her heart racing.

The small scar on her back was aching, and she took a steady breath, banishing the images her mind had conjured up while she was asleep of monsters and claws grasping and dragging her away.

She was fine. She was home, in her bed, her father asleep in the other room. There were no monsters around except the ones in her head, she was absolutely fine, and dear Ordona her heart just wouldn’t stop racing.

She huffed in annoyance at herself. Obviously falling asleep wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon.

She needed to get out and clear her head.

Making only a little effort to be quiet as she slipped out of the house (her father slept like a rock), she wandered down the path through the village, the dirt cool under her bare feet.

She paused and took a deep breath of the clear air, listening to the nighttime sounds she was so familiar with. She’d missed Ordon, after all that time in Kakariko. The other village was nice of course, but it’s dusty streets didn’t hold a candle to the rolling hills of her home village, full of trees and animals of all sorts.

It was quiet and peaceful, and Ilia finally felt her heart slow from its frantic pace as she heard an owl hoot in the distance.

She continued to walk, not really paying attention to where she was going, and found herself wandering in the direction of Link’s house. Looking a bit longingly up the path, she tried to get a glimpse of his treehouse, but the hills blocked it from her view.

He was finally back from another mission or something with the Resistance, and had been for about a week, but Ilia had barely seen him. He’d been spending nearly all of his time on the ranch, and when he wasn’t doing that he ran errands and took up any job that needed doing, before going straight back to his house at night.

The thought to go and see if he was awake crossed Ilia’s mind, but she shook it off. She didn’t want to bother him, and there was little hope Link was awake at this time of night. And even if he wasn’t... he probably didn’t want to see her anyways.

It felt like he’d been avoiding her.

Ilia huffed out a sigh and sat down by Sera’s shop, looking up at the moon. She wasn’t here to think about Link, she was here to clear her head, that was all. She wasn’t going to go bother him and demand answers in the middle of the night, that would be ridiculous, and she was feeling calmer now anyways.

She took a deep breath, and let out a yawn, finally feeling sleepy again.

And then the night was rent with a fearsome snarling screech.

Ilia jumped in her seat as her heart kicked back into overdrive, then bolted in the direction of the noise despite her instincts yelling at her to run the other way. A sound like that meant trouble, but she knew it hadn’t been loud enough to wake up anyone inside.

So she ran on, up the path towards the woods, directly towards Link’s house and—

Epona.

She skidded into Link’s front yard, mind conjuring up all sorts of images of his horse lying dead on the ground and Link in despair, but that was not the sight that met her at all.

Rather, a large lizard-like monster bleeding out on the ground, with a wolf standing next to it, muzzle stained with blood and panting heavily.

Ilia gasped, momentarily frozen at the sight in front of her.

But then her brain reminded her that Epona might still be in peril, and she grabbed a wooden training sword leaning against a tree, stepping forward and facing the beast.

“Hey! You, get out of here!” she shouted at the wolf, rapping the stick on the ground. “Link wake up! There’s a wolf out here!”

The animal immediately turned towards her, blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. It seemed startled at her appearance, and was still panting, tongue lolling a bit as it stared. When she took a small step towards it it whined, and immediately backed away.

Then yelped as its paw gave out from under it.

Ilia frowned, and took another small step forward, stick still in hand. The wolf struggled to regain its footing, and Ilia saw blood on its foreleg as it attempted to get away, only making it a few steps before collapsing again.

Ilia sighed.

“Well. Looks like you’re in no shape to get much of anything tonight then, are you,” she said as she drew closer to its side. She gave the monster a small poke. “This guy more trouble than he seemed, huh?”

The wolf only let out a quiet pant, eyes following the stick she still held.

Epona let out a distressed sounding nicker from a short distance away, and Ilia glanced up at the treehouse, noting the dark windows.

How on earth hadn’t Link heard anything?

The wolf blinked at her, watching her glance up at Link’s house, then tried one more time to get to its feet and escape.

It couldn’t even get all the way up before collapsing.

Ilia sighed as she watched it struggle. She knew what an injury like that meant for a wolf, and though the beasts were technically pests, she couldn’t help but feel bad for it.

“Normally I’d just chase you out and let you on your way,” she said apologetically, feeling a bit silly for talking to a wolf, “but a leg like that won’t heal on its own, and honestly even if it did you’d probably be lame the rest of your life. Plus you might come back for the goats...”

She sighed again.

“Now the question is what to do...” she muttered. “It’d make the most sense to wake Link, but he hates killing anything.” The wolf let out an honestly pitiful whine, and Ilia gave it a sympathetic look. Poor thing. “Or maybe I’ll just get Rusl. He’ll want to know about a monster getting this close to the village anyways.”

The wolf’s eyes went wide at that, almost as if it understood her, and it tried again to get to its feet, weakly scrabbling as it tried to drag itself away.

“I know, I’m sorry. We’ll put you out of your misery soon, critter,” Ilia apologized. “Keep an eye on him, Epona,” she directed to the mare, then began to walk back towards the village, not too worried about turning her back on the injured beast.

She only made it a few steps when an attentive bark came from behind her, nearly making her trip.

Ilia turned back towards the wolf, then froze as it stared directly at her, blue eyes wide. She stared back, and then suddenly the moonlight seemed to go out around the wolf, shadows twisting around it and covering it fully from sight.

Something heavy sunk into the air, something dark and wrong and familiar, and Ilia gripped the training sword with a new urgency as the shadows grew.

What was going on?

Then as suddenly as it had come up, the heavy wrongness in the air fell away, and the shadows around the wolf dispersed as well, fading away in small black rectangles before her eyes.

And instead of a wolf in front of her, there was a young man lying on the ground, clutching a bloodied arm to his chest.

He met her gaze and gave her a weak grin, and if Ilia hadn’t been so frozen with shock she probably would have hit him with her stick.

“Uh... s-surprise?” Link said with a wince.

Ilia stared.

Then her eyes narrowed, and she tossed the training sword down as she strode over and glared.

“Inside. Now.”

(...)

Ilia assisted Link in climbing up the ladder to his treehouse in silence, apart from the occasional direction from her or quiet grunt of pain from him.

As soon as they were up, Ilia went for the few medical supplies she knew Link had while he sat down on his couch, looking pale and exhausted. She grabbed the kit (it seemed much more well-stocked then she remembered) and sat down next to him, pulling his arm out as she grabbed a cloth.

She began cleaning the teeth marks marring Link’s arm, internally wincing at the mangled flesh. No wonder he couldn’t walk on it as a wolf.

As a wolf.

That he could turn into.

That had actually happened.

Dear Ordona.

Link let out a small grunt as she dabbed at his arm, his face slightly screwed up. It didn’t seem like he’d lost too much blood, but the injury must have been horribly painful. Ilia finished cleaning the wound with a sigh, then got to work wrapping it up.

“Are you mad at me?” Link suddenly asked in a quiet voice, still watching her bandage his arm.

Ilia continued her work and didn’t meet his gaze.

“Yes.”

Link flinched and went silent again.

Ilia finished wrapping his arm, making sure the bandages were tight before leaning back with a small exhale. It looked pretty good. Probably not as good as Renado would have done, but not bad.

She was about to stand up and put the leftover supplies away when Link put a hesitant hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving. She looked at him and he flicked his gaze away from her to his feet, ears drooping.

“I’m... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he mumbled. “About the wolf thing. I... I get why you’re mad about it—”

“What?” Ilia interrupted in an incredulous tone. “Link, I’m not mad you didn’t tell me you could do... that. I mean I’m shocked, obviously, and a little annoyed you didn’t trust me, and also that you were idiotic enough to get hurt, but I’m not mad you kept it a secret.”

She looked at him intently until he raised his head and met her eyes.

“I’m upset because my best friend’s been avoiding me for weeks and pretending like everything is great when it’s not,” she said with a faint snip in her voice. “It’s been like this since everything ended. You run around and distract yourself until you drop and act like everything is all fine and dandy when it’s so obviously not I can’t stand it.”

Link stared at her, blinking in disbelief once she’d finished.

”...It’s that obvious?” he said weakly, and Ilia pulled her arm out of his grip and held his hand instead.

“Yeah, it is,” she huffed. “You’ve been avoiding me and I think as your best friend who’s known you since before you could even talk, I have the right to know why. So spill.”

Link stared at her, and hesitated, eyes clouding as he looked away.

Ilia frowned.

“Look Link... you helped me when I couldn’t even remember who you were,” she said gently. “Let me help you. Even if it’s just to listen. Please?”

Link looked up at her, and let out a quiet, weary sigh.

“I... okay.”

He gave her hand a squeeze, sending a small bit of warmth through her.

And then he told her about Midna.

Ilia was silent the entire long explanation, letting Link spill out all of what he’d gone through and what he’d experienced. About how he’d woken up as a wolf and met an annoying imp who’d ordered him around, but somewhere along the way become a close and dear friend to him.

He left obvious chunks of the story out, and stumbled through several parts, leaving gaping holes in what had happened. But he told her about a lot of it, and Ilia listened to every bit.

And finally, voice holding a small tremble, he told her about how Midna had left.

And how he had never gotten to say goodbye.

Ilia was silent for several long moments after he finished, still holding his hand. Her mind was reeling from all the information from the tale he’d woven, concern for her friend now even higher, but among all the questions she now had, one stood starkly at the forefront of her mind.

“Did you love her?” she asked eventually, voice quiet.

It took Link what seemed like forever to respond. And when he did, his voice was almost too soft for Ilia to hear.

“...I don’t know,” he whispered.

He breathed in a shuddering breath.

“And... that’s why I’ve been avoiding you. Because... because I don’t know. I was afraid of what it meant if I did, and you’re my best friend Ilia, but— I didn’t want things to be weird between us—“

“Even though they already are?” Ilia interrupted wryly.

Link lowered his head. “...Yeah.”

Ilia sighed, but didn’t let go of Link’s hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Look, Link... I get that you have stuff to work through,” she said quietly. “We all do, I think. But you don’t have to act like everything’s fine. Ignoring it all is just going to make things worse in the end.”

She nudged him, and he met her eyes again, his blues looking watery.

“You’re not alone, Link,” she continued gently, and wiped away a tear off his cheek. “Stop acting like you are. And don’t make me pound it into your stubborn skull, because I will.”

Link chuckled, even as another tear escaped down his cheek, and he leaned forward and hugged her.

Ilia hugged him back, his arms warm around her, and she breathed in the familiar piney smell he had always had around him. Link let out a suspiciously shaky breath, and she gave him an extra squeeze.

“You’re not alone.”

[dollsonmain]

For people that missed it (@giraffeseatingcake), because it's on my mind again, the Tina Dollyhair thing to the best of my ability to remember which we all know is not great and of course I didn't keep links to everything. I could probably find them again but you know, I don't want to. Google it yourself.

I don't know why I started looking into it again. Maybe someone mentioned Tina's supposed death somewhere, or maybe someone mentioned Ida taking over and it got me curious. I don't remember.

Anyway, we never found a public death notice or obit for Tina and that makes sense since obits aren't posted unless a family member pays for one to be printed. I didn't know that before.

What I did find was mention of Heidi with a different last name. IIRC it was through public records, I started noticing clusters of names that were showing up together often across different public record aggregation websites. Tina Amuntula/Kristina Amuntulla/Kristina Miller, Heidi Amuntulla/Heidi with a different name, and Steve Amuntula/Amuntullah who also has a different first name but I've forgotten it. He goes by Steve publicly in the US.

There was also some sort of hint that Heidi was in television or the movies in some capacity which made me wonder if there was an IMDB profile for her. There was! Then I looked her up on wiki and found that Heidi OTHERNAME was also named Heidi Amuntullah.

Also checking the ownership history of DollyHair showed that Steve's other name was registered as owner for some time.

Going around and around in circles with public residential and business records put the whole family together.

That was the first time I'd had anything even close to proof that Tina's Sister Heidi actually existed.

How this led to finding out that Tina apparently really did die is that searching about Heidi and Steve Amuntullah brought up a series of documents about a court case brought against the two of them by Melanie Chan.

I did keep a link to one of the documents but not everything else tying this document to Tina Dollyhair because of course.

Anyway, it's here:

In that document it says:

The FAC alleges that Plaintiff’s landlord, Kristina Miller, passed away in August 2020. (FAC ;41.) Defendants being decedent landlord’s father and sister are inferred to be heirs or successors-in-interest to decedent landlord.

Melanie Chan was suing the Amuntullas for wrongful eviction after Tina died, saying they didn't give her enough warning to be able to find another place to live before changing the locks on her. Heidi and Steve took ownership of Tina's house and wanted to sell it. It's recorded either in this document or some of the others that Tina was letting Melanie live in her upstairs for rent without any sort of official lease.

That's basically it.

Tina really died in 2020 (not any of those other times she said she died before), Heidi does exist and both Heidi (Tina's sister) and Steve (their father) took ownership of Tina's house, kicked out her unofficial renter, got sued for it, won the lawsuit, and sold the property.

As for Ida claiming to not know the family or not knowing any of the drama behind the DollyHair shop, she's mentioned in that document, too.

Plaintiff’s reliance upon the allegations regarding “Ida,” an employee of Heidi, is uncertain to allege a trespass in that it is only alleged that Ida entered the “house” and not specifically her “upstairs guest apartment.”

It could be a different Ida.

She could have somehow not known, I guess. It's possible she worked for Heidi without knowing anything about Tina or DollyHair and Heidi was like "Hey, you want this business because I don't...."

So, it's possible.

Either way, I do hope DollyHair as a company can build a new, better reputation with good customer service and not shorting people on their hair orders, now. They do have some hair colors that aren't available elsewhere and DollyHair has the widest selection of fibers as far as I know.

[aryanightshade]

Vi.

This Episode of Stranger Things is Called: Smoochy Kiss

-

{you have 17 new messages}

{Are you sure you want to delete all messages?}

{You have zero new messages}

-

Back on the porch, El is telling Wayne about the action figure Mike gave her. “He can shoot lasers from his hands because he is from space.” She’s still a safe distance away from Wayne, under the porch swing like a skittish cat, but Wayne doesn’t seem to mind, paying close attention as El wiggles the action figure’s arm back and forth. 

Eddie lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching, mouth sweating. The pill bottle burns a hole in his pocket like a hot coal, and he wants to pry open the cap with his teeth and dump the contents down his throat. Every second standing between him and accomplishing that feels like a thousand years. He digs his thumb into the burn mark on his wrist, using the pain to direct his focus towards literally anything else. 

“That’s neat, kid.”

“Red lasers, and also green lasers. Like Star Wars.”

“You know, your daddy loved Star Wars when he was little. Used to beg me to rent those movies over and over again.”

Eddie could go back in the bathroom and take a few of the pills. Wayne and El, they wouldn’t notice. He could drive El home, carefully, carefully, climb into bed and upend the bottle. He could make it all go away for a little while. Steve, Nancy, the kiss, all of it. 

Everything you do affects that little girl.

Eddie swallows painfully around the aching desert in his throat, desire for escape ravenous and wild inside his bones. Not in front of El. 

He won’t do this around her. That’s been the only rule for himself that he’s ever managed to follow, even as he chokes back tingling mouth sweats of need. 

Shame wells up in Eddie, hot and acidic. The idea of talking to Wayne for another second while he has his stolen pain medication sitting in the pocket of his jeans is too much to handle. 

The scream of the screen door announces Eddie’s presence as he steps out into the porch, body moving without his conscious instruction, thrumming with the need to flee. It feels like he’s watching their conversation from a million miles away, mind flimsy and vaporous, as he says, “It’s been nice catching up, Wayne, but we have to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Come on, El.”

Eddie turns at the bottom of the stairs, guilt thrumming behind his ribs like a caged hummingbird, alight with the panic of being trapped, but even that is smothered by the siren song of the drugs in his pocket. The promise of oblivion they hold in their tiny chalky capsules. “But maybe you could come by for dinner or something, soon,” he mumbles. An olive branch of sorts, to soften the blow of him running away like his house is on fire, and maybe it is. Burning down from the inside out.

Wayne stares at him, and there must be a thousand thoughts rioting behind those inscrutable blue eyes. Eddie can’t read any of them. Never has been able to. Never will be able to, because he came into world missing that link that lets him connect with other people so easily. 

“That would be nice, Eds,” Wayne says, voice low and even, and Eddie nods once, even though he knows he won’t be able to look his uncle in the eyes for a long, long time. 

Read on Ao3

[hazbincalifornia]

Sweet Fruit

Chapter 60: Stolas shows Blitzo his accomodations, and they get cozy.

Chapter warnings: Explicit sexual content and some minor gore. (It's for something nice.)

Ao3 link

“You have a house down here?” He was down here for less than a week every year, and he just had a house sitting there? Luckily, it had been close enough that Blitzo could walk over with only minimal complaining from his body, but he’d expected it to be a place where Stolas was just picking him up or renting for a few days, not a place that he owned. It had a little ‘Stolas’s Solace’ sign with stars on it hanging on the door and everything. It was seemingly only one story, but it still was easily twice the height of a normal one-story.

Stolas raised an eyebrow. (An eye? What did you even call that?) “Yes, of course. I wouldn’t exactly fit into any of the local’s accommodations, now would I?”

Blitzo blinked, forced to concede the point slightly on the basis of Stolas being Really Fucking Tall. “Right, you’d just slam right into the door unless you crouched every time.”

“Yes, exactly! I wouldn't mind using my imp form, but that would rather defeat the point, and I wouldn't want to hold it for days on end. That’s why we maintain this little cottage, we just pay someone to make sure it isn’t dusty every few months so it stays in good shape for when I come down.” He waved his hand. “Now then! We have the day to ourselves! There’s a lovely little tree in the back that has the sweetest apples on it, and there’s enough space to stretch out. I’ve mostly finished with arrangements, although I will have to head out tomorrow morning to get the final details set up. Do you have the Grimoire?”

“Oh. Nah, it’s in the van, I didn't want to have somebody see me carrying it.”

“The van.”

“Yeah.”

“You left my book of infinite power sitting in-”

“Hey, it’s locked!” Blitzo protested. “Can’t you just do your magic shit and grab it?”

Stolas nodded. “Yes, I can, but you need to be more careful with it. What if it happened to fall into the wrong hands?” He pulled open a small portal, reaching into the back of the van and pulling it out before tucking it under his arm. “I’ll go put this somewhere safe, and you can settle down. There’s a pull-out bed, as well as the one that I use. You may choose which you would like, although-”

“Yeah, we’re sharing,” Blitzo said, and the portal zipped closed as Stolas opened the door. “Just regular couches are better than pullouts like ninety percent of the time.”

“I suppose that I wouldn’t know,” Stolas said, gesturing for Blitzo to follow him. “My room is to the right there.”

The living room of the house was… nice. It was nice in a vaguely impersonal, magazine sort of way, as although there were a few pictures of Octavia hung up, there weren’t many decorations that screamed ‘Stolas’ to him. Still, there was a throw pillow that had a galaxy design on it on the couch, and there were a few horse paintings that may have been purchased for his benefit or they may have come with the place. Either way, it helped make the place feel at least a little more homey.

Blitzo poked his head into the bedroom- even though there was a slight mustiness that betrayed the fact that the house wasn’t usually lived-in, it already had Stolas’s smell soaked into the sheets of the way-too-big bed. He hopped up, kicking his boots off and grabbing at one of the pillows. It had a galloping horse embroidered into it, so it was definitely his now. Stolas must have slept there last night considering how concentrated the scent was, and Blitzo only realized that a contented sigh left him after it was over and he’d buried his face in the squishy cushion.

“Mmm…” The bed was comfortable too, just the right mix of firm and soft, and he sunk in slightly as he got himself cozy.

Something was… off, though. He patted at the bed as a slight unease twisted around his brain, trying to figure out what the sudden mental fuzziness that itched his consciousness was for. It was better than even the bed in the new apartment, so what…?

“There, nice and safe. Now, what do you- getting comfortable, hmm?” Stolas held back a little laugh behind his hand as he returned carrying a basket of something, but Blitzo grunted.

“Something’s… hmmph.”

“Are you alright?” Stolas swept forward. “It wasn’t too much of a problem to travel, was it? I’ve set things up so we can go right to the hospital as soon as they come-”

“It’s not that, it just…” It clicked. “It smells weird in here.”

Stolas blinked. “Really? I always thought Wrath smelled nice, very rustic and natural.”

“No, it’s- it’s you. It’s just you.” Blitzo waved a hand, and Stolas tried to not look offended but didn’t quite succeed.

“I did just bathe, I’ll have you-”

“No, it’s not that. You smell fine. Can you open a portal to the van again?” His tail squirmed against the sheets as Stolas wordlessly did as he said, tilting his head in confusion as Blitzo reached through and yanked at whatever soft-looking junk he could find. A bandanna from Loona, a blanket M+M had used on a picnic a few days ago, one of Blitzo’s own shirts, a soft chew toy Loona had used ages ago… he spread them out on the bed, and the scent of everyone in his family mixing together with Stolas’s that was already there helped to ease the bug clawing in his brain. He padded at it with his palms before settling down.

“Hmm. That must be an imp thing,” Stolas said, sitting down next to him. “Does that feel better?”

“Oh, yeah.” Blitzo kneaded the objects together with the sheets so it all mixed in. “Now it’s good.”

“As long as you need anything that takes up the whole bed, I’ll survive sharing,” Stolas said, reaching over for the basket. “Would you like something to eat?”

Blitzo nodded. “As long as it’s not rotting or some shit, I’m in.”

“I would never!” Stolas was aghast as he plucked up a slice of something that looked like a mix of a peach and an apple, holding it in the air just before Blitzo’s lips. “These are special to Wrath, I believe. The star goes into the black hole, and down it goes!”

“Are you-” Blitzo bit at the fruit, swallowing it down before finishing his sentence. “-calling me fat?”

“That was just what I said to Via to get her to eat when she was little,” Stolas said, popping the other half of the slice in his own beak. “I suppose this place makes me nostalgic- I brought her to see the ceremony a few times when she was young, since she liked seeing the pretty lights. Mmm, these are perfect!”

He reached back into the basket, and they got into a routine quickly after Blitzo had bundled himself up in the extra stuff he’d pulled in from the van- Stolas set a slice on Blitzo’s tongue, and he gave it one chew before letting it slide down his throat. It was juicy enough that it practically melted in his mouth, and Stolas had started gently cooing as he wiped juice off Blitzo’s cheek.

“There you go, darling…”

“Hey, newsflash, I’m not a kid.” Blitzo cracked one eye open, realizing in the process that he’d let both of them fall closed.

“I’m aware, I just enjoy getting to take care of you.” Stolas used a slightly-sticky hand to slide his shirt up. “Both of you. I’m sure she won’t be opposed to some sweet treats before- hmm?” His hand slid up a little further, catching on something wet, and Blitzo’s gaze dropped down.

“Hey, leave my nips alone unless we're-”

“I didn’t do anything.” Stolas tugged a little at the shirt as if requesting permission to remove it, and Blitzo undid the buttons, pulling it off himself. “Oh!”

There were wet spots soaking through both sides of the bra, and Blitzo chewed on his lip, entirely unsure how he’d missed that. It must have happened in the last few minutes- maybe it was something about nesting down? 

“Shit, I- kind of thought that was supposed to be after birth?” What had Aamon said? That was all kind of hazy, considering how strung-up his brain had been at the time. Fuck, maybe he had said it was before...

“Mmm, no, I believe Stella’s came in a week or two before Via was born. She threw quite the fit when it ruined a dress.” Stolas’s hand rested flat against the wet spot, and a shudder rode through Blitzo’s spine at the twinge it sent through his body, including riiiight between his legs.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

“Take this off. I’m sure it would be sore if this is the first time…”

Blitzo nodded, and Stolas reached around to unhook the back of the bra before gently tugging it down Blitzo’s arms. “There we go.” Stolas lifted Blitzo up for half a moment, getting an indignant sputter before setting him right back down again atop a small stack of pillows that helped their eyes get closer to meeting. “How do you feel?”

“I mean, I’ve got milk coming out of my tits. I think that’s worthy of feeling ‘pretty fucking weird’, even with the head’s up that it was coming.” Blitzo squeezed at one and his tail snapped like a whip against the bed automatically as little white droplets dribbled out. “Shit, I only brought that one bra.”

“There’s a little washer here, I’ve just never used it. I’m sure we could figure it out,” Stolas said, setting a hand down so the thumb and index finger framed the puffy nipple. Blitz grimaced- it sure as shit didn’t look very good from his angle as everything stuck out too far, and even if this was all Stolas’s fault, he couldn’t quite read the inquisitive look on the other’s face.

“Does this- I mean-” Blitzo cleared his throat, feeling sticky and overstuffed as his weight sunk down into the pillows. “Not that this matters, it’s my fucking body, but like… all of this.” He waved a hand over himself. “It’s kinda weird and gross sometimes, and, like- I know you’re just gay and non-imps get fussier about that shit sometimes. Does that-”

Stolas pressed a finger to his mouth, then laughed when Blitzo sucked it in to lick it for a moment on instinct just to be an ass before spitting it out. “It’s your body, darling. Whatever happens to it, as long as it isn’t hurting you, I’ll find plenty arousing, trust me.”

He raised his hands to the tip of the curve of Blitzo’s horns, claws clicking on the keratin as he drummed on them. “Your big, strong horns…” Slowly, his fingers trailed downwards, finding the curves and edges of every piece. “Your handsome face, with those intimidating cheekbones that have just a bit of curve now as they built up for the baby… your spikes and shoulders, that help carry those oh-so-talented arms and hands…” Here, Stolas intertwined their fingers for a moment, giving a squeeze, and Blitzo had to bite his tongue to resist the urge to kill the moment because he could feel a flush bubbling up underneath his skin, tasting a spark of copper before he pulled his teeth apart to stop himself from bleeding too much. He was learning. Kind of.

“That tight ass that’s so delightfully plump right now, the thighs that probably could kill someone by themselves if they tried, those fancy little hooves of yours…” His fingers began trailing up again. “That absolutely delicious cock and sweet little entrance, the stomach that’s housing our little darling, and these.” He cupped one breast with each hand. “It’s hot because it’s on you, darling. I must admit, I never saw the appeal before and I doubt I would on anyone else, the stars know how much I love your normal chest as well, but you wear them as well as you wear anything.”

He leaned forward and gave a little lick to lap up a taste of the milk, and Blitzo’s hands buried themselves in the back of Stolas’s feathery head.

“F-fuck, you sure know how to inflate a guy’s ego.”

“That was the idea, dear,” Stolas said, tongue tracing the side of his beak. “You deserved every word of it. I know this has been a lot of change, but I will always love you.” He leaned back in, careful of his beak as he suckled, and the extra-sensitive nipples combined with the fact that Stolas was essentially milking him had Blitzo’s legs wobbly even though he was sitting down.

“S-Stolas…”

“Just let me take care of you,” Stolas murmured, one hand drifting down to cup Blitzo's hip. He was so close, body pressed flush against Blitzo’s, close enough to devour him, and in that instant, Blitzo wouldn’t have objected. He was surrounded by comfort, the blankets and snitched items below and Stolas in front, and everything was so perfect his mind scrambled for a catch until Stolas’s tongue ran up the nipple again with his razor beak just barely brushing the skin, and his body told his mind to fuck off.

After a few more moments, Stolas pushed him back slightly so he was leaning against the headboard and started pawing at his pants. “May I?”

“Don’t need to sound so fuckin’ formal- yeah, you may,” Blitzo said. He was already wet enough from the praise and the oral attention to match the puddles in Lust, and his eyes trailed down Stolas the same way Stolas had been roaming over him, catching on his crotch. “Mmph… actually, can you…?”

“Can I what?” Stolas’s voice was slightly sing-songy, and Blitzo threw a hand over his eyes.

“Can a guy ask for one last fuck before popping out your little featherball?”

Stolas jolted. “Are you… are you sure? I wouldn’t want to-”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts,” Blitzo said, parting his legs and letting his arm fall. “Last I checked, you were just asking to do something with my junk, so I’m taking my pick.”

“I’ll… I’ll be careful,” Stolas said, tugging down his own pants. “And I’ll grab the lube.”

“Sounds like you were expecting some kind of fuck.” Blitzo raised an eyebrow, and Stolas flushed.

“Well, I- I figured it would be better to be prepared, you know-”

“Hey, it was a good call.” Blitzo grabbed Stolas’s collar, yanking him down into a kiss that Stolas easily melted into before cupping a hand over Stolas’s cock and starting to stroke along it. It always felt bigger than he remembered, but he wasn’t about to wuss out, not when he’d been the one to ask for this. He wanted it. He wanted to make this bed theirs and to have Stolas inside of him one last time before everything went tits-up, wanted to be as close as they physically could be. “Just maybe don’t pound me stupid to pop her bubble just yet and we’ll be golden.”

“I’ll go slow,” Stolas promised, floating the bottle over and popping the cap open. Already, his cock had perked up at the promise of getting to slide into its favorite imp, and Blitzo’s tail wound around it to help rev up the engine further, getting a half-strangled moan out of Stolas. “Mmm, just like that, darling…”

“You’re so easy to please,” Blitzo muttered as his tail gave a jerk, and Stolas tilted his head.

“Only because you’re the one doing it, love.”

That jolted at Blitzo’s chest, but Stolas made no attempt to take it back, honey-sweet adoration in his eyes as he slicked himself up and leaned forward for another kiss. It was warm with just a hint of an edge and tasted of sweet fruit, and Blitzo couldn’t get enough, tail pulling back then curling around Stolas’s waist so he couldn’t pull too far away. He needed all of the prince like he needed air.

“I’m going in,” Stolas murmured into his mouth, and Blitzo spread his legs further before the tip pressed against his entrance. “I figured this one would, ah… provide more lubrication.”

“Everybody else would have to ask first, but you get your pick of holes,” Blitzo said with a lopsided grin that got a laugh out of Stolas, peppering kisses over his cheeks.

“Lucky me! And you’re sure-”

“I’m sure, I’m sure.” Blitzo’s fingers dug into Stolas’s arms as the owl eased in a bit further. It was different this time, less frantic and horny and more intimate. Stolas was taking his time and Blitzo wasn’t particularly rushed, both just enjoying the way the other felt in their arms.

“Oooh, you feel lovely,” Stolas cooed out.

“And you’re filling me right the fuck up,” Blitzo moaned out, wrapping his legs around Stolas’s waist. “Stolas…”

Stolas rocked in and out, arms wrapped around Blitzo’s back so his weight was supported by Stolas himself as well as the bed. It was almost like he was floating, surrounded by the comfort of his stolen bits of family and Stolas, Stolas, Stolas-

“Fuck, that feels so good, keep doing that, keep showing daddy how much you want him… daddy loves you...”

Stolas was mid-thrust and his eyes widened, pulling back to stare and cup at Blitzo’s cheek. “Blitz…?”

“Blitz wha-” His brain caught up with his mouth, the word still in it lingering like vanilla poison, and they stared at each other for a moment as Blitzo’s eyes blew equally wide before he shook it off and yanked Stolas into another kiss, tail cinching in Stolas’s waist and getting an aroused groan before Stolas pulled back.

“Did you…?”

“Stolas, I- you-” He was stuffed full of cock, but that wasn’t nearly as pressing as the semi-automatic heartbeat pounding out of his ribcage that Stolas’s flicking pupils must have detected from how they flitted down. “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh, love…” Stolas nuzzled his cheek against Blitzo’s. “Thank you. I know-”

“Yeah. I knew too.” He nuzzled back. “You know, usually having the kid Is supposed to come afterward.”

Stolas snorted. “I beg to differ.” He nipped at Blitzo’s shoulder, pinching the flesh in a way that it would surely bruise, but Blitzo couldn’t care less. “We’ll have to settle for the child being born afterwards.”

“Mmph. Fair enough.” He shifted around, feeling the heat and pressure of Stolas’s cock against his inner walls.

“I love you too,” Stolas whispered against him like a secret just for the two of them, a promise humming with power. “Love you, love you, love you.” He pulled Blitzo close as he slowly moved in and out. “I love being this close, I love knowing we’ll have a child soon, and I love being able to be in your bright, fiery orbit.” He accented each phrase with a thrust, but they were languid and easy, clearly just soaking in the closeness.

Blitzo buried his face into Stolas’s chest, sucking in breaths and letting it out as his belly pressed between them. This didn't feel real, not in a way that he deserved, but he couldn't summon up the anxiety that should have been flooding him at a bombshell like that- not when they were so close, not when the scents and blankets and feathers on his face and long, hot length buried in him were just right. Stolas, ever-flexible, bent down and kissed up his belly before meeting Blitzo’s mouth again, and Blitzo let himself tumble down into the sensations, building pressure and comfortable honeyed warmth and Stolas all around him, feathers fluttering black and red on the edges before blooming out as his voice echoed infinitely around them.

“You’re mine, Blitzy, and I’m yours, forever.”

Forever was forever. Forever was far too long, but far too short at the same time. All he wanted to do was sink into this moment for eternity as he was only held up by pressure, floating in this everythingness. Something hot and sticky and dripping fell into his hands as they rested against his squirming belly, coos burrowing into his brain from above and below. Galaxies dotted the edges of his vision beyond the red and black void as he examined the thing- a beating heart dripping in black, hot blood oozing over his fingers like sweet melted chocolate. It smelled achingly familiar.

Every bit of him was cocooned and caressed by touches that were feather-light and contained promises of unimaginable power, yet were careful enough to not bruise fragile skin. It slipped inside of his slit to tease at his cock and kneaded at his muscles at the same time he was being slowly, gently fucked so deeply it made his ribs ache. The sensations massaging him inside and out got a pleasured hiss out of him in the process as they overwhelmed him, unraveled him. He could feel the rhythm of a heart pulsing around him as much as he felt it in his hands.

“It’s yours,” the voices purred, “It always has been.” Blitzo turned it over in his hands for a moment, giving it a squish and feeling the body around him shudder before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth in. It was far, far better than the paltry human flesh had been, and a purring moan rumbled through his body as he savored the taste of spice and hearty sweetness beyond any kind of compare. The injured heart beat twice, ichor pouring over his wrists and soaking over the scars before he pushed the rest into his mouth, teeth sinking into the succulent meat and swallowing it down as heat traveled down his throat and up into his guts before the stars on the edge of the void exploded and reality snapped back into its axis.

Stolas was panting and slick with sweat as their eyes met, and he glanced down at himself to see black dotting his feathery chest. Blitzo could still taste blood and still feel Stolas inside of him, and his own heart was still racing like an escaped stallion.

“What the shit was-”

“I got… a bit excited,” Stolas said, cheeks dark as he pulled out, both of them soaked in themselves. “That... that was a portion of my heart. A bit of metaphor, a bit of curiosity of how it would taste compared to human. I- I hope that didn’t frighten you, but I’ve… I’ve been waiting for a long time to hear those words.”

Sometimes, Blitzo could almost forget that Stolas was a demonic prince with all that entailed, but now, the way his voice curled with nerves even as hints of red fluttered on the edges of his form and the air rippled around them...

He licked a drop of black from his lips before grinning, yanking Stolas down into the bed with a yelp before turning so his heavy, shifting belly pinned the other down as the baby tried to reach out for her other father. Stained hands intertwined with Stolas’s naturally blood-black ones as wide red and white eyes met red and gold.

“I fucking love you, Stolas.”

[animeomegas]

I hope you’re feeling better now monarch! I just reread ur pregnant dabi hcs and could it be possible to get some of your short thoughts about what happens next? Like let’s say they finally moved, and are settled somewhere safe and Dani just gave birth 👀

Hello, queen!!! I'm feeling much better thank you 💓 You mean the story where his father finds them so they move? Of course I can give a few of my thoughts about what happens after!! Enjoy~ @queenondeezmatatas

Here is the link to the previous post

So, you and Touya get a very, very early morning flight out of Japan, armed only with a couple of changes of clothes, your important documents, some water and snacks and a few irreplaceable items like photos and the soft little baby blanket that you had splurged on for your pup when you found out that Touya was pregnant.

You both wear hoods and baggy clothing and take the most confusing route to the airport that you can, just in case.

Touya is tense the entire time. In fact, tense is probably an understatement. He's barely holding on to his composure.

You're in shock. Everything had happened so quickly and now your future was uncertain and the life you had was lost, but you pushed everything down to deal with later. Your first priority was getting Touya and your unborn pup to safety.

Once the plane took off, destined for a small city on the mainland with good transport to where your friend lived, Touya relaxed enough to fall asleep, exhausted from the whole ordeal.

He had pushed himself as close to you as the aeroplane seats had allowed.

You had at most four months until Touya went into labour. Your friend had allowed you to stay with them until you managed to get some sort of visa for another country, but their block of flats was strictly adults only, so you and Touya would have to be out before the pup was born.

Four months was all you had.

...

You made it to your friend's house easily enough. Touya took the sofa and you had an air bed on the floor.

You didn't waste any time trying to find a place you could live. Touya mainly slept and cried during the first week. He couldn't build a nest, he couldn't indulge his cravings, he didn't have a proper bed to sleep in, and he had to abandon his home.

He kept himself plastered to your side at all times, trying to get any amount of comfort that he could.

You spent each night with your air bed pushed right up against the couch so that you could hold his hand while you slept.

You spent all your time researching and applying for various things. You had never been so grateful for your job experience. It didn't pay much but it was well sought after in many countries and so you managed to find a couple of visas that would allow you to move and bring Touya with you.

You had to use your friend's electronics because you had abandoned all your technology in Japan, lest you be tracked.

Eventually you found the perfect place.

A country far from Japan, with a mild climate and affordable towns in the countryside. A country giving out work visas in your field, a pretty safe country with decent schools.

So you applied.

It took three days of non stop work to get the applications filled out.

And then it took another week to hear they received it.

And then it took four more tense weeks to hear back.

You got approved.

Both you and Touya cried for hours when you heard the news, and to celebrate you bought Touya some of the white chocolate he'd been craving but that you hadn't been able to budget for.

But Touya was now 6 and a half months pregnant.

Your approved move day was another three weeks away.

You spent that time looking for a place to rent and packing what meagre belongings you did have. You also spent a good deal of time soothing Touya, whose instincts had started to feel safe in your friends house, just in time for him to have to move again.

Touya just looked so hopeless at this point.

Sunken eyes, no energy, crying all the time, nightmares, weight loss... he was in bad shape.

You were just as anxious, but you were trying desperately to hold it in for him, to make him feel better any way you could.

You managed to find a studio apartment with a deposit you could afford. Once you started working, you'd be able to upgrade fairly quickly, but all of your savings had disappeared to pay for the travel costs and food, so a studio was all you could afford even though it was in a fairly rural place, about an hour and a half away from the nearest city. Crucially though, it came with wifi and furniture and cleaning supplies and crockery already set up. All you would need to buy is baby stuff, clothes, food and toiletries. Touya was getting dangerously close to his due date, and you needed as much set up in advance as possible.

...

The second you walked through the door into your new studio flat, Touya burst into tears.

He wasn't happy or sad, he was just exhausted and overwhelmed.

It hurt to leave him, but you knew he'd feel better when things were set up, so you left him with some of your clothes and the baby blanket, crying on the bed, while you ran around (still without a car) trying to get everything you desperately needed.

Bedding.

Food for tonight and tomorrow.

Something comforting for Touya, maybe a snuggly blanket or something.

And a cheap laptop or phone.

Everything else could wait until you had a bit more money in your account.

It took you about five hours. And when you got back Touya had fallen asleep on top of the bare mattress, his face buried in some of your clothes. He had dark circles under his eyes and you could tell that he'd been crying for a while.

Gently as you could, you shook him awake and sat him in the only armchair in the room while you made the bed with all the new bedding. Then you covered the soft blanket you got with as much of your scent as you could.

You tucked Touya into the new bed and wrapped him up in the blanket to finish his nap while you made something for dinner.

Over the next two days you couldn't afford to buy anything other than more food, so you worked on making Touya feel comfortable in the flat, preparing him for when you started work, and hopefully encouraging him to feel comfortable enough to nest by the time you could afford some materials.

...

When you had to start going into work, Touya wasn't happy, but he got used to it slowly. He felt better once you could afford some baby supplies and nesting supplies because then he had something to do while stuck at home.

You had been working for a month when Touya went into labour.

He gave birth in a small town hospital with no complications and you brought home a healthy baby boy.

And it may be cramped in the one room flat, and your budget was tight, and Touya had to do the majority of the rearing while you were at work....

But it was safe and it was far away from Endeavour and it was a start to a new life, a completely new life, that you and Touya could build together.

[kenobisgalaxy]

Catching You (Catcher Block x fem!Reader) | Part 1

fandom: Down With Love

pairing: Catcher Block x fem!Reader

type: series

word count: 2,200ish

warnings: none really, just Catch kissing another girl and flirting with you AND some casual 60s sexism + misogyny (that we obviously don't support on this blog)

plot info: You’re trying to make a living in as a journalist in New York City when you meet the Know Magazine journalist Catcher Block. This fanfiction tells the story of Catcher Block falling wanting to win you for a quick sex a la c��rd, but in the end hopelessly falling in love with you.

summary: You encounter Catcher Block in the coffee shop you work at and immediately dislike his attitude. Later, he coincidentally shows up at your workplace and decides to win you. Disaster ensue.

a/n: I recently rewatched down with love and can't think about anything else but Ewan as Catcher Block. That's why I've written this first chapter of a little 'falling in love with Catcher Block' series. I don't know wether anyone is even up for that at the moment, but I couldn't stop myself. I have to say that there is are little historical inaccuracies in it because Turner Catledge wasn't the head of the New York Times until 1964 and coffee houses that work like this one here probably weren't a thing in the 60s, but let us pretend that it works like this at least in this AU. I was honestly too lazy to change it or write anything else.

masterlist

You had been working in this little coffee house up the street in New York City for a while now. Your boss was okay, your salary not so much, but it was enough to pay the unbearably high rent of your cramped apartment. If your parents could see you now, they probably would be anything but impressed by the degraded standards you were living in, they way you overworked yourself and the way you still didn’t land business in the city where dreams were supposed to become reality. Your brand new start of it in old New York was flopping so far on all levels.

For longer than you could think, you had wanted to become a writer. Journalism had been your dream ever since your 13 year old self had read a biography about Nellie Bly, the immaculate journalist that had traveled around the world as a woman all alone in this men-dominated world in only 72 days. If she managed to do that in 1888 when woman didn’t even posses the right to vote, you surly wouldn’t have problems to land in this business in the year of 1962, wouldn’t you? But apparently, this attitude alone didn’t immediately lead to ground braking success as a journalist. In fact, apart from a simple job as a secretary you couldn’t record any progress in your career whatsoever. As a consequence of this, you were forced to work two jobs at a time, since the miserable salary of your job as a secretary for the New York Times didn’t fund you enough to make a simple living as a single and unattached 22 year old girl in the grand business of New ‘emancipation apparently is a lie’ York City.

It was Saturday morning and as usual you were working your shift in the coffee house when he stepped in. You did not know him at the time, but it was the thing he did that made you remember him. Of course, he wasn’t alone. Linked in his arm was a stunning looking blond wearing some sort of blue uniform that looked like that typical outfit a stewardess would wear to work. And he? He wore a white tuxedo which you honestly didn’t understand because it was not nearly the right time of the day to wear such an outfit, but you couldn’t care less. In reality it wasn’t even his or her outfit that was the reason for the incident being stuck in your mind afterwards. Nope. It was the complete arrogance and ignorance of this entirely ungentlemanly man that was now standing in front you ordering.

“I get a black coffee without sugar. And what do you want, baby?” He asked the girl on his right whilst nuzzling the little crevice on her neck.

“A cappuccino, please, with lots of sugar.”

“Only the sweetest for you, baby! You got that?” He asked you bluntly still concentrated on whatever it was that kept him occupied with the girl’s neck.

As you were preparing the order you could observe the pair half making out right there in front of the counter which was enough to completely creep you out. These two should get themselves a room, you thought heading back to the front and placing the tablet with the two steaming beverages on the counter.

“Here you go, Sir. That will be 5,25$ whenever you’re ready.” You said barely looking at the couple.

“Would you mind bringing it to the table in the front at the window there.” The man asked you, still concentrating on his female company.

“Of course.” Not wanting to annoy the customers - although they were certainly annoying you, you did what he asked circling the counter and following the two of them with the order to the called out table. “You’re welcome.” you uttered placing the tablet in front of the man. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“Oh no, that’s just enough.” he responded between a kiss on the girl’s cheek that was now sitting in his lap. Can't he get enough of her? Some men are just never satisfied, are they?

You were already about to get back to the counter to take the next customer’s order, when it happened. You couldn’t really recall how he did and and why he did it, but somehow in a fit of a heated kiss he wiped his arm over the table knocking the tablet off the tiny table and spilling all the coffee over the tiles. But the worst thing about it wasn’t that he had made a complete mess, but rather that he didn’t seem to notice nor care.

“Sir!” you squeaked reaching for the cloth that was attached to your belt quickly trying to mop the floor and collect the broken pieces of porcelain that were scattered on the ground.

“Oh darling, I am so sorry.” he mused finally realizing what he had done. “What do I owe you?” He inquired as you were still kneeling on the floor, the coffee had completely stained your white tights.

“5,25$ and new tights.” You snapped sarcastically. “You still haven’t paid yet.”

“Oh of course sweetheart, take 10$, that’ll do. I might as well help you out of these tights later, if you’re free.” He smirked at you.

“Oh would you really? Who do you think you are? Well now that I know that you’re such a guy, I would politely ask you to leave this coffee shop. And if you’re already listening anyways. Would you be so kind and tend to your girlfriend, that is really not a gentlemanly request to utter in front of her. I’m fine on my own, thank you and goodbye.” You picked up the broken pieces having them collected in your towel and stormed off back to the counter. As you were taking in the orders of the other customers who visibly still were a little puzzled due to what they had just witnessed, you could see the man leaving the shop with is girlfriend in the corner of your eye. That’s really not a great start to the day. But you quickly focused on your work again and didn’t stress about the unpleasant incident anymore. At least not until next week.

You were working for the New York Times as the personal secretary of the new executive editor Turner Catledge. Well, that wasn’t really the position that you wanted. You obviously would have much preferred to work on the other side as a writer, but at least you were getting an insight into the business and that was something to be proud of, wasn’t it. You were overall doing a decent job, Mr. Catledge was happy with your work and you were able to get your tasks done efficiently and quickly. However, this morning things didn’t want to go as planned. Mr. Catledges first appointment was supposed to be at 8 o’ clock in his office with a man called Mr. Block from the Know Magazine, but it was already half past 8 and this guy didn’t seem to show up.

But suddenly, the door of the anteroom that was your little office opened and in came a tall and handsome guy with short, sleek, raven hair that probably had gotten hold of too much hair setting spray, piercing blue eyes, a charming smile and dressed in a checkered, well-fitting suit. A man as perfect as ever and as perfectly late as never. And worst of it all, it was the same man that had flirted with you so shamelessly and inappropriately on last Saturday morning in the coffee shop. Oh what a total jerk, this was gonna be fun.

“Good morning, darling.” He greeted you whilst you were quickly pretending to type something on your type-writer.

“Good morning, Sir. How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Catledge. Can you get me through?”

“An appointment? I’m afraid, Mr. Catledge doesn’t have an appointment at 8.30.” You chirped sweet as sugar whilst rustling through your boss's schedule.

“Well, the appointment was at 8.”

“Then you’re late.”

“Yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem, if you just let me get into his office.”

“Sir, before I can do that, you might first inform me about your Name” 

“My name? Well, Catcher Block of course, who else should I be?”

“Catcher who?” you asked him pretending to be stupid.

“Catcher Block, from the Know Magazine for men who are in the know.” -

“Oh right, that Catcher Block. Okay then, Mr. Block you might enter Mr. Catledges office now.”

“Thank you. Uhm, Miss? Have we met before?” he spluttered.

"No, I don't think and if we had, I would probably not remember." You answered bluntly, silently celebrating in triumph. It was obvious that he was completely and utterly dazzled. This man really did think that the world revolved around him, didn’t he. And you just didn't want to play his game.

The appointment took its time, but you were well occupied with you work and didn't think about the man for to long. He was certainly that type of men, who thought that every single woman on this planet was ready for him at his feet which made him exactly the type of men you weren't interested in. What good was a man that only used you for sex à la card anyways? And besides Catcher Block couldn't be seriously interested in any girl if he was ready to woo every other women in a radios of ten miles including you. Not wanting to waste your precious time getting angry, you continued in your usual work flow.

You didn't notice him exiting Mr. Catledge's office after some time. You were absorbed by the article you where writing secretly after you had finished your main tasks. Thus, you didn't notice Catcher Block standing in front of you watching you intently and trying to figure out how he was going to win you. He didn't remember you at first, but he did now. You were the girl from the coffee shop that rejected his attempts of flirting with you. You were the girl that resisted him and didn't gift him single stare. You couldn't be that disinterested. Somewhere, you had to have a weakness, every woman had. But you were not like every other woman. Somehow, you were fierce, bold and sarcastic, not giving in. And he liked that. He liked that you resisted him and he liked that you were a challenge. Catcher could get every girl in the world with only a wink or a smile. Every woman was head over heels mesmerized by his charm, but not you. You didn't stare at him, you didn't flirt with him, you didn't swoon over him. But he would crack you, he would get you, sooner or later you wouldn't be able to say no to him.

"You haven't told me your name, have you?" Startled you were looking up into a pool of deep blue eyes. For how long was he standing there? You hadn't noticed, had he been watching you?

"My name, Mr. Block? Well, I can't seem to find a reason for you to need my name." You answered collecting your inner thoughts as quick as possible.

"I can't call you Miss all the time, can I."

"But you have to, I'm not gonna see you any time soon anyway, so you don't have to call me anything." You blurted.

"But what if I wanted to see you?" He asked slowly and step by step getting closer.

"I don't see why you should, Mr. Block. And frankly, I have much better things to do. If you would like to leave now, Mr. Catledge still has other appointments, thank you very much."

"You're not already taken are you?" He inquired boldly.

"I don't know why that should concern you?"

"Because I would like to ask you to have lunch with me."

"I happily decline." You snapped at him. Why wouldn't he just leave. Couldn’t he see that you were not interested

"Oh darling, but why? I don't bite - at least not yet." He mused circling you desk and bending over your should.

"Mr. Block, I must ask you to respect my private space."

"Are you afraid of what I could do to you?"

"Shall I call security, Mr. Block?"

"Fine, keep calm. I'm not doing anything. "

"Thank you, Mr. Block." You flattened your skirt and turned back to your work.

"But I do wonder- What did I just see there. Are you writing an article?" He asked looking at your type-writer.

"I'm not, this is personal." You urged trying to hide what you were writing

"Oh no, I should know, this is an article. But you're not a journalist, you're just the secretary, am I right?"

"Mr. Block" You gritted your teeth. "I ask you one last time, please leave my office!" You stood up glaring at him.

Suddenly, your boss's voice turned up on your telephone. "Miss y/l/n, could you get me some coffee please."

"Of course, Mr. Catledge, immediately." you answered. "Now Mr. Block, as you can see, I'm occupied with work, good bye." You said. But Catcher Block had already backed up to the door, having gotten what he wanted - your name.

"Good bye then, Miss y/l/n." You groaned at your name in his mouth and simply let yourself fall back into your chair in complete exhaustion. Catcher Block on the other hand, light-footed approached the elevator. At least that much he knew now. You were definitely single, he could sense that. Now he would just need to drink some more coffee on Saturday mornings.

[sisterlelianas]

another life (oh, if only you knew)

ao3 link

this is a “small” (🤡) one-shot where our lady alcina dimitrescu meets the woman who ends up being her future lover for the first time before she’s turned into a vampire. they meet again, centuries later and are both unprepared to face each other, in their own way. In other words: they are gay ❤️ + someone tell these two fools how to navigate their feelings for each other, PLEASE 

word count: 10.810 words (yeah, i know)

author’s notes: a huge chunk of this was written before i played the game, meaning most of it (including things regarding Heisenberg’s powers, etc) is not canon compliant, still, i feel like going against canon is a good thing for us, anyway. y’all know what i mean. SO! this one-shot is actually really close to my heart. alcina and the girls live in my head absolutely rent free and i don’t even mind. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

p.s. this is the first fic that i have ever posted and written. blame it on our milf

Big, social gatherings were useful in their own, distinct way. Meeting counts, their wives, the countesses... the secret lovers of those same counts, which everyone, but the wives, were aware of... there were plenty of those. Never a dull moment, truly. Attending a party your dear, darling husband organised, however, was a different story. Alcina Dimitrescu was not the kind of woman to be more than glad to step back from her role and allow a man to take the reigns for her, to allow him to play the part of the head of the house. She oftentimes found herself wishing for his... mysterious disappearance. He could even flat out drop dead - she was not picky. 

The overwhelming noise of constant blabbering from her guests was beginning to irritate her, though. Meaningless social affairs were most definitely beneath the Countess - hiding the frown that would frequently settle on the corners of her mouth, after a particularly loud cackle from one of the men, by sipping some wine seemed to be turning into a recurring move for the woman. Everywhere she looked all she could see was uninteresting people playing a part. Acting as if they were all happy to be there. What else was new? The same faces carrying out the same conversations. The worst part was that her husband had the most... particular taste in friends. They were all male, of course, and so incredibly stupid and dull. The kind you look at and just know they won’t be saying anything insightful throughout the entire affair. Men, the Countess mused. What else could you expect from such limited beings? The mere thought of them making her frown deeper, her lips pursing slightly for what seemed like a millisecond. 

Her husband was fuelled by attention - seemed to thrive off it, actually. She turned to look at him from the red, bergère chair she was sitting on and observed his behaviour from afar. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a golden goblet filled to the brim with red wine. The contents of it would often spill and fall to the floor whenever he would give a hearty laugh or swing his arms around to better illustrate whatever dull-witted point he was trying to make. The goblet was filled to the brim no longer and his cheeks were rosy, meaning he was far from being sober, at that point. It was only a matter of time before she had to step in and chastise him for acting like a fool whose goal seemed to be disgracing House Dimitrescu, something the Countess would never turn a blind eye to. She held on to her own goblet of wine tighter, then. Luckily, it was not made of glass, or it would have shattered.

She exhaled harshly from her nose, once, before a charming, almost musical laugh broke her reverie. She had to keep herself from snapping her head to the side to look at where the sound had come from, making her movements slow and precise instead, so as to not draw attention to herself or her newfound curiosity. Well, well. Now that was a pleasant sight. The sound had come from a woman. An extremely beautiful one, at that. Her hair was brown, braided most elegantly, and complemented her features in a way that was almost indescribable. The warm lighting of the ballroom they were in altered it’s hue, reminding the other woman of free, autumn leaves, drifting gracefully in the wind. The Countess wondered how long the woman’s hair would be if she were to free it from the pins that were holding it in place.

Her dress was red, cut somewhat generously at the front. Bold, for the gathering she was attending, though it certainly made a statement, it would seem. The frame fitting, silken dress appeared to draw the attention of several men, who, of course, barely even bothered to make eye contact with the woman whenever they spoke to her. This made Alcina’s lips curl down momentarily in disgust. Men could truly be such dogs, she thought. 

The brown haired woman captured the attention of every person around her whenever she’d speak, although the smile she wore did not reach her hazel coloured eyes - it had a subtle, mechanical look to it - and her posture was slightly too stiff, as if she studied every move before actually moving. Her smile, her demeanour... it was all clearly forced, but only those who were paying very close attention could see through her mask. The woman’s eyes then shifted downwards when she sipped her wine. She felt a pair of eyes on her - sort of like how you feel when roaming around in a haunted house, you don’t see anything, yet feel everything, only this time, the feeling was more than welcomed. Drifting her eyes upwards, she finally met the Countess’s gaze. Almost like a magnet. How intriguing. She was, indeed, hauntingly beautiful, the mysterious woman thought. 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, in a way that was almost too cliché. The brunette half-hoped she could relive the moment all over again. She could not look away. They both couldn’t. 

The woman’s lips were still hidden behind the glass of wine, but her eyes told the Countess all she needed to know. They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries and every second of it was absolutely delicious - the brunette didn’t shy away from Alcina’s prying eyes at all, she seemed to revel in the fact that she was the one the Countess was looking at - her chest puffed slightly, her head tilting upwards a bit, and when she finally removed the goblet from her face she had an almost missable smirk painting her soft, red lips, making one of Alcina’s eyebrows arch slightly. Ah, at this rate, the things you could see just by looking into another person’s eyes was almost criminal. 

Their staring contest was, much to Alcina’s chagrin, broken when a particularly loud and obnoxious laugh came from her husband. The fool was probably trying to charm one of his guests for the umpteenth time that evening. Having had enough, she stood up at once and took long strides towards him so as to not allow him to embarrass himself, or, rather, her, any further. The room didn’t fall silent, but several people spoke in a hushed tone as they watched the Countess walk towards the opposite side of the room. The way she moved was almost hypnotic - the skirts of her dress shifted delicately, her face completely still, not betraying any emotions, not a hair on her head out of place. It was almost as if she was floating.

“Beloved,” the sound of her voice evoked an immediate reaction out of her husband, who quickly turned to face her, visibly sputtering, and out of several other people near them. Heads literally turned. 

Everyone knew who was at the helm of House Dimitrescu, it didn’t matter how many parties her husband attempted to throw or how many Counts he tried to butter up. There was only one, and it was not him. It was her. He knew this. She knew this. Everyone did, and playing the part of the good, perfect, respectable wife was beginning to wear the woman down in a way that was borderline dangerous, at that point. Men are technically allowed to rule sometimes, unfortunately. This was not one of those times.

“My dearest wife-“ her husband started, slurring his words slightly. She immediately cut him off by grasping his arm in a way that told him to stop talking, but also looked relatively loving to whoever was watching, “A word,” she was not asking, she was telling. 

The brown haired woman, who had previously captured the Countess’s attention, watched as the couple walked, with their arms linked, towards a secluded part of their castle. She noticed how the black haired woman nodded curtly towards her guests as she walked past them, not wanting to be a poor host despite being displeased with her husband’s behaviour. Brown eyes took in the other woman’s.... figure as she walked away. A sight to behold, as she had initially guessed. Her dress hugged all her curves in the most mouthwatering way. It was almost too difficult for one to tear their eyes from her.

In the meantime, the party was simply not the same when she was absent. Like an ever-present energy, not a soul in that room could look at the Countess and mistake her for a person who could go unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t in the room physically, everything had her name written all over it. It was hers. It was all hers. 

 ——

Several moments passed before the Countess and her husband decided to grace the party with their presence once more, still, the brunette immediately took note of it and watched as the other woman navigated the room confidently to greet some of her other guests, never once breaking into a full smile, however. Maybe they just hadn’t earned it.

If she wanted to greet her and leave a lasting impression, before having to leave the party, it had to be now.  

——

“— they are positively dreadful. I cannot bear the sight of them. The man calls himself a painter yet cannot seem to find within himself the ability to paint properly!” a man loudly said, some of the guests laughing along with him. Others at him. Alcina’s facial expression, on the other hand, remained completely neutral with no signs of her cracking a smile anytime soon. The man noticed and, unfortunately for him, made an attempt to mansplain art to the Lady of the House. The group fell silent, uncomfortably so, as the man waited on Alcina to grace him with a response. It did not seem like he was getting one. 

“You are out of your depth, Constantin,” Alcina immediately recognised the lilting voice, looked over her left shoulder and towards the sound. It was her. The phrase was voiced with a hint of playfulness so as to not humiliate the man any further, “Our host knows more about the wonders of the arts than you ever will.” She was standing directly beside Alcina now, yet seemingly refused to meet her gaze, choosing not to break eye contact with the man who dared question the Lady’s knowledge instead.

“In fact,” she inhaled through her nose, pursed her lips - allowing a hint of contempt to escape her for a fleeting moment - and clasped her hands at her front, “I believe we are all uncultured, empty-headed people in comparison, no? Some more than others”, she gave the man a pointed look, making the people around her chuckle in consensual agreement. That’s when she finally turned her head to face the other woman, whose gaze had been boring holes into her head as soon as she had decided to stand beside her. That’s when the brunette noticed that no one else was near the Countess, but all directly in front of her. It was as if she had stepped onto the woman’s stage. The realisation made her bow her head humbly before turning her body to fully face her, “I don’t believe we’ve met, my Countess”, she extended her hand, “Angela Drăculea, I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for awhile, now”.

This time, her smile had reached her eyes, which were now half-lidded. The laugh lines that formed charmingly around them only seemed to become more noticeable once Alcina took her hand in her own and hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t believe our husbands have met”, she stated matter of factly.

“I beg your pardon?” the other woman said. They were still holding each other’s hands, the feeling sending shivers down Angela’s spine - she even seemed to draw nearer when the Countess spoke, which did not go unnoticed. Like a sailor being charmed by a siren, completely unaware of the perils surrounding such action. Alcina’s gaze refused to leave her own. It soon became intoxicating.

“He would have introduced us by now,” her calming voice said, before finally dropping the other woman’s hand, “Unless you come here uninvited and are a trespasser,” once again, it was not posed as an inquiry, it was as if she was throwing statements at the other woman, gauging her reaction to them.

The brunette squinted her eyes without dropping her endearing smile, “Our husbands have not met, no.” she squared her shoulders, then, and allowed her gaze to drift downwards, towards the Countess’s necklace, though she doubted that that’s what the other woman was  really looking at, “I am afraid I have no husband to introduce in the first place,” she playfully said, giving her a knowing smile and looking into her eyes once more. Angela was good at matching other people’s energy. If they teased, she would tease back. If they taunted, she would follow. If they threatened...

A hint of a smile ghosted Alcina’s lips, “Is that so?”

The atmosphere changed around them almost immediately. Some of the guests even squirmed uncomfortably whilst watching the verbal exchange unfold. It was not a normal conversation by any means. The brunette seemed to be speaking to the Countess for a particular reason. Alcina, on the other hand, was testing her. Watching her. Studying her, in a way that was not totally uncomfortable but also let the other woman know that she was not to be taken for a fool. Even so, their audience didn’t seem to bother this so-called ‘Angela’, Alcina noted. If anything, it only seemed to encourage her. Interesting, she thought.

The woman gave a smile, that was absolutely sinful, and bit down on her bottom lip for a split second. The woman opened her mouth to say something before placing her, now empty, goblet of wine on a round, silver platter one of the servants, who walked past her, was holding, “Indeed,”

“Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say?”, her tone lost all signs of amusement, then, and her expression turned almost sour. The sudden change of heart caught the brunette off guard, but unfortunately to Alcina, she was quick-witted and would not back down easily.

“Some would say so, yes,” her chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stand taller than the other woman even if she tried, however. They were about the same height, Angela was slightly shorter, but the way the Lady of the House carried herself made her look taller than any other person in that room, almost incomprehensibly so, “Some would even go as far as to question my womanhood. Be that as it may... it is not how I see it.”

Alcina’s nostrils flared for a brief second, she had a feeling that the woman before her was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Not with her. It was as if she was pushing all her buttons just to see if she could. A mistake. Nevertheless, she pressed on, “How do you see it?”, she glowered, daring her to speak her mind.

Angela didn’t look the tiniest bit regretful. It drove Alcina mad. She was a lady, therefore making a scene was absolutely out of the question, but Gods be damned, if the woman in front of her didn’t stay in line—

“Complete and utter freedom.” she cooed. The last thing Alcina expected was for the woman to bend at the waist, then, seemingly choosing to remove herself from the conversation now before it ended poorly, and moved to hold the Countess’s hand in her own once more. She paused, allowing Alcina to remove her hand from her grasp. When that didn’t come, she looked up from under her lashes, not moving from the position she was in, and placed a deliberate kiss on her hand, feeling it tense up under her touch. 

Once they stood at eye level, the first thing Angela observed was the Lady’s facial expression. First, her eyes flashed dangerously. Then, her jaw clenched. But then, and much to the brunettes dismay, Alcina’s face went blank. All terrible signs, when one is making an attempt at courtship, really. No matter though, because the last thing Angela noticed before finally moving away from the Countess were her eyes. One’s body always betrays them, it would seem, for the woman’s pupils were blown and only one word was written all over her face. Desire.

“In another life, perhaps?” was all the infuriating woman said, a soft smile on her face, before finally moving away, turning her back on the Lady and disappearing into the crowd. She left just as the Countess’s husband decided to join in on the conversation he had just missed. Whatever it was that he said, it earned him a hissed out reply from his wife. 

 ———————————————

“My decision is final, there will be no argument.  Remember from whence you came,” was all the priestess had to say for the room to settle down, “Unless any of you provide me with a reason as to why our plan should change, I advise you all spare me your childish, petty squabbles”. Her voice was cold and left no room for disagreement. Heisenberg looked at his sister, his chest puffed and a ridiculously smug grin on his face. There was nothing more she wanted to do at that moment than wipe it off his face. With his hammer, perhaps. 

He had always been an irksome man, yet became even more so after his transformation. Alcina was thankful for the fact that she did not have to deal with his presence on a daily basis. He was like an annoying smell you simply could not get rid of and having to deal with familial issues even after your death felt like a poor joke. He did not respect her. She would have to change that.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” he patronisingly said, bowing to his sister mockingly, “you will not be disappointed”. There was his wolffish grin again. Alcina tsked and moved to stand behind her seat once more. Losing Ethan Winters did not irritate her too much - she did not care for the man nor for his safety - the fact that she was losing him to her brother, of all people, however... Now, that was a different story. It seemed that, even in death, men attempted to reach for things that were not theirs to claim. She knew her brother. His irresponsible nature would end up getting the best of him and she would have to clean up his mess. That’s how it always went. She and her daughters would’ve killed the mortal so much quicker. 

He turned to face the man in shackles then, opened his arms wide and began, loudly, “Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting! And, now, let the games beg—“ 

He would have finished his speech if he had not been rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors, leading to the old, dilapidated chapel, slamming against the walls, a woman standing on the threshold. She was wearing all black garments, which were softly swaying in the cold, winter breeze, her face fully shadowed and hidden both by her hood and some kind of plain, black material covering the lower half of her face. Not a single hint of skin in sight. Her ensamble was not poor or dirty in the slightest. It was perhaps a bit hard on the eyes, but one could tell it was carefully handpicked by its wearer. Clothes do make others perceive you differently, after all. Whatever it was that she was trying to achieve by dressing in such fashion, it seemed that she had succeeded.

Her posture was straight and one of her, gloved, hands was holding on to some kind of satchel. Everyone in the room was surprised by the sudden interruption, including the mortal, who was now making pathetic attempts to uncomfortably turn and face whatever new threat he would have to deal with later. Everyone looked as if the woman was trespassing. Everyone but the priestess. 

“You have decided to join us after all, I see,” her tone was far from welcoming. It almost sounded as if she was reprimanding the woman, not just for interrupting their meeting, but for showing up at all, “Do you come bearing news?”, once again, her tone was flat, giving away the impression of utter disinterest and boredom. 

Heisenberg was leaning against his hammer and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand, probably wondering when he was going to be allowed to play with his food. Alcina, on the other hand, was watching this woman, who had not yet made a sound, carefully. It was almost like they had been interrupted by a ghost. A ghost they were not meant to see. She took the other woman in once more, noticing how she was, surprisingly, not as short as the others around her. Still not as tall as the Countess, but definitely much taller than her brother, for instance. How interesting. 

“My suspicions were correct,” that voice.... where could she have heard it before? Lady Dimitrescu stood taller then, her eyes widening for a split second and her lips forming a thin line before she could keep her facial expressions under check. It could not be, could it? After all those years? 

“You took your precious time,” Miranda critiqued, “what have you learned?”, the room was dead silent, save for a few lycans who were growling lowly at the new guest. All eyes were set on this newcomer, which, interestingly enough, seemed to upset her. Her hand had left her satchel and was now gripping her black cloak, as if she was trying to wrap it around herself even tighter. Only one other person in the room kept most of her body covered - Donna, the head of House Benenviento, but even she was a poor example. One woman was a... grieving daughter, the other was not.

“Our enemy, our true enemy, is one Chris Redfield. He plans to strike from the shadows once we are all too exhausted to retaliate.” Her voice was being somewhat muffled by the material covering her face, but it was clear enough that no one needed to listen closely to understand what she was saying. Even if she looked utterly uncomfortable, her posture did not give that away at all. She stood tall. Proud. She did not cower or shift closer to the shadows, no matter how badly she wanted to. In all honesty, it was not a poor effort, but there was one person who could see right through her. 

“And you know this how, exactly?” Heisenberg drawled. Moving away from his hammer and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose just to take a better look at the woman.

“He is here. In your village. Roaming around your property. Studying you. Something that is only happening because you were much too busy hunting down this stupid, useless man for sport,” the woman snapped, yet kept the volume of her voice relatively low and her tone neutral, clearly not entertained by the man’s behaviour. Her eyes gave out this orange glow with a red tint to it - they flashed whenever Heisenberg tried to address her. Some curses become a blessing though, because the man’s infuriating demeanour made the woman let go of her cloak, her posture straightening once more, but not out of discomfort this time. 

“Careful, Angela,” the priestess warned, cutting their argument short, “know your place.” it was posed as a warning, not a threat,  but, frankly, Angela had been roaming the Earth for far too long, now, and standing down was not something she was inclined to do. Ever.

“With all due respect, my Priestess, my place is something I am excruciating and painfully aware of.” Angela spat out, her tone making Alcina’s lips curl upwards in acknowledgement for a brief moment. That did sound like the woman she had met on that dreadful party all those years ago. Though she was, obviously, not the same as she once was... in more ways than one.

The room fell silent for the umpteenth time that day and remained that way for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Angela’s chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes never leaving the priestess’s. The awkward, tense moment was broken when the House Beneviento puppet, Angie, coughed once, followed by a small, meek “.... sorry...”. This was going to be a long day. 

“I just want my daughter—“ general grumbles of annoyance and a loud ‘shut the fuck up’ came from the people around him. Well. Maybe that would have to come later.

“You cannot be suggesting we let this man go?” the word was practically spat out, which was definitely in character for Lady Dimitrescu, “For once, I agree with my sister,” was what Heisenberg said, earning him a disgusted look from the Countess. 

“Maybe I have not made myself clear,” Angela turned to face Alcina for the first time in literal centuries, then. The taller woman wished she could see her face, her fingers twitched momentarily at the thought. Still, she refused to let any kind of emotion seep through her mask, opting to pretend to be completely unfazed by their conversation instead. 

The other woman did not seem particularly glad to see her, which sent an uncomfortable feeling through the lady vampire’s chest. This kind of behaviour was not to be rewarded.

.... Surely she had not forgotten her? 

“I suggest we move our efforts towards a more fruitful endeavour, such as doing away with the man who wants to eradicate us. It is entirely up to you, however,” her eyes scanned the taller woman’s face. Looking at her eyes, her hair, the laugh lines around her mouth and, then, settling on her lips before looking away entirely. 

It was strange, seeing her like this. Her fiery personality was, of course, still there, but before the Countess stood a woman who was merely a shell of who she used to be. She had often thought about the woman who had boldly courted her for all to see. Wondered if she had lived a full life. Happy and free, as she was. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She looked utterly miserable now, which was a clear indication of just how consensual the experiments that were inflicted upon her were. There they stood. What had once separated them centuries ago seemed to separate them now. One was still a caged animal, struggling to get free. 

A pang of something hit Alcina’s chest. That was definitely not a feeling she welcomed with open arms. Some things are meant to be secured under lock and key. Never to be brought up, not once. This was one of those things. 

The woman bowed her head slightly, a sign of respect towards the Countess. Having seen that, Heisenberg made a disgusted sound, immediately destroying whatever moment they were about to have. 

“Fine. If this one goes, I want the other one,” he turned towards Miranda, “It is only fair,” the smug smile returning to his face.

The Houses argued amongst each other whilst Angela stood on the sidelines watching it all unfold. The dynamic between them seemed about what you’d expect from a bunch of dysfunctional monsters whose Mother was hellbent on calling them a family, though it was borderline comical most of the time. Angela pursed her lips and looked away from the scene with disinterest, her gaze landing on the mortal, instead. Funnily enough, he looked more confused than frightened, which almost made the woman’s lips curl up in amusement. His expression was understandable.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Alcina threw a particularly petty insult at her brother, her eyes flashing dangerously and her booming voice carrying throughout the entire building. Even after centuries having passed, she remained the most strikingly powerful and beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. She took her time observing her then - the way the veins on her neck became more noticeable when she began raising her voice; the way her nose scrunched up in disgust whenever her brother tried to speak to her; the way she scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively whenever he made another stupid comment. Even so, she remained positively regal throughout the entire verbal exchange. Angela wished for nothing more than to be a painter, at that exact moment, so she could immortalise the Countess as she saw her. Gazing upon her this freely almost felt like a privilege. 

If only she could go back in time, she would have taken her away from that blasted party and her stupid husband and kept her all to herself, though she doubts the Countess would have let her. 

Sighing in relief when Miranda put an end to their fighting for the second time that morning, Angela awaited her orders. She could spend the rest of her days admiring the taller woman, the screaming, on the other hand, was beginning to wear her down. That was when the priestess finally made her decision. Ethan Winters was no longer a priority, though he should not be allowed to leave the village as of yet. This earned her several shouts of protest from the man, who ended up being taken away by two of Miranda’s helpers. 

“Do not stray from the village, Angela. I need you here,” Miranda commanded, “Alcina, take her with you. You are to await further instructions,” her wings fluttered as she spoke. Her demeanour calm, as always. 

Heisenberg’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Angela interjected, “Very well. I will find my own way to the Castle,” and with that, she abruptly turned and walked confidently towards the exit. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The amount of eyes on her were making her skin crawl.

“She’s going to walk there?”, Heisenberg scrutinised, glaring at the woman as she left. His sister didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he had said, seemingly lost in thought, which was definitely uncharacteristic of her.

“Heisenberg...,” the priestess warned. The conversation was over. 

 Having realised his mistake, he raised his hands up in defeat, though his eyebrows were still snapped together, either in confusion or irritation. 

——-

Angela could technically use her powers to get to the Castle in the blink of an eye, yet saw fit to do the exact opposite of that. Call it stubbornness or whatever else you wish - she saw her powers as entirely unnatural. Animalistic, even. There was not one thing about her transformation that she had come to terms with over the decades. There was no encore, there was no sense of accomplishment. It didn’t make her feel more powerful. No, there was only blood, sweat and tears. That’s all there ever was. No need to romanticise it. You couldn’t, even if you tried.

She looked up, trying to take in the Castle in all its glory. She wondered what the Countess had done to her husband once she was turned, the thought making her purse her lips in amusement. She didn’t seem particularly fond of the man, so her best guess was that he died an excruciating death. Whether or not he deserved it was not up to her to decide. She got exactly what she wanted, in the end. She was officially the Head of the House, no man holding her back and keeping her from achieving her fullest potential. Good. She deserved it. She deserved all of it.

Yet... facing her now, after all that had transpired? Gods forgive her. She didn’t know if she could take it. 

She walked steadily towards the main entrance, her fist hovering over the flat surface of the door before finally giving it three, strong knocks. The doors were opened by two, frail looking maids who immediately stepped to the side to let her in. Choosing not to give it much thought, Angela walked through the threshold and looked around. It all looked exactly the same. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit the woman’s chest, but her reverie was broken when the sound of two loudly beating hearts overcame her senses. Her head turned slowly towards the two maids. Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, meaning they definitely saw her as a threat - she didn’t blame them, all they could see were her eyes, and they were not really welcoming, either. Her gaze traveled along the women’s faces yet settled on their necks as soon and she noticed how they had both been... branded. The bite marks were small, so they were not given to them by the Countess. How intriguing. 

“Lady Drăculea,” Ugh, “so nice of you to finally join us,” he sauntered towards her, his hammer resting on his right shoulder, “how was your morning stroll? Not too many corpses on the way, I hope”, he grinned. There were... a lot of corpses, actually. It made her stomach turn, but she would never tell him this, regardless of whether or not he was right. His ego was already too big for his own good. 

“Why do you pester me,” she asked, her tone flat and her mouth twitching downwards when she realised he planned on annoying her even further. Thank goodness her face was covered, that way he had absolutely no way of knowing if he was getting under her skin. 

He gave out a mocking smile and pressed on even further, “You know, I have just been made aware of the most interesting piece of information,” he toyed with the handle of his hammer and eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. 

Angela clenched her jaw, her mouth set in a hard line. She moved to the side in an attempt to walk past him, but he would not let her - sidestepping in front of her whenever she tried to leave. 

“This isn’t your first time in the Castle. You came here once long before you were turned into one of us,” he stated matter of factly. He turned to the side, then, and used his free hand to wave it around, never letting go of his hammer, “this must really take you back. Say,” he moved closer then, his voice barely a whisper, “on a scale of one to ten, how awful was my sister?” there was his stupid grin again. Angela didn’t have the faintest clue as to how he came to know of her past - Alcina certainly had not told him, so that leaves.... who, exactly?

She heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on marble in the distance before finally deciding to give the Countess’s brother a reply, “I remember being bothered by a pesky, little man that evening and I can certainly relate to that now,” she said, curtly, “this feeling brings me back more than the haunting halls of this Castle ever could”, that was when a flash of white entered her peripheral vision. There stood the Lady of the House, in all her glorious beauty, at the top of the stairs. Her left, gloved hand resting on the railing, she seemed to be accessing the situation, trying to decide whether or not she would step in and get her brother in line. The two, poor maids were still standing on the very same spot, not being allowed to leave until the guest moves away from the front entrance and into the Castle. It was, overall, an incredibly uncomfortable situation. 

Heisenberg stared at her blankly at first, but then his face broke into an almost predatory smile. He stepped closer to Angela, who refused to step back, “I am going to tell you this once and only once. Do not test me any further. I am not as patient as the Priestess, dog,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. It looked as if she had grown ten inches taller. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like she had. Heisenberg’s grip on his hammer tightened at the final word the woman spat out, the air around them almost crackling from all the tension. Funny how she was several inches taller than him and yet the man was still  brave, or bold... stupid enough to irk her. She half hoped he would keep going - she needed to release some pent up anger anyway. Heisenberg’s posture stiffened. 

Having had enough of the display of ego measuring, the Countess decided to interrupt their special moment before they ruined her day even further, “That’s enough,” she said, her voice had an edge to it. She was obviously not pleased with their behaviour - they were both just guests in her Castle, after all. She continued then, her voice much more neutral this time around, “Your chambers are this way,” she was speaking to the woman, yet her eyes were trained on her brother. The Countess slowly extended a long arm towards one of the corridors to her right, her movements precise, and her left hand, still resting on the railing, gripped it tighter. 

Angela took that as her queue to finally leave Heisenberg behind, glaring at him one last time before moving away from the door, which put the two maids out of their misery and allowed them to leave the spot they were stuck in moments ago, and going up the stairs. Alcina was still standing near the railing and still eyeing her brother, who now had turned to face the two women, craning his neck slightly to look up at them. Angela watched as the two siblings seemed to communicate telepathically. She didn’t fully understand it, but felt as if it was not something she wanted to insert herself into or interrupt. 

Her brother grunted something under his breath before tipping his hat at his sister and finally walking out. She was asking — no, telling — him to stand down. He was on her turf, now. No one understands the implications of that better than a dog, Angela thought. 

They were alone now and, for someone who was bold enough to flirt with a married Countess at a social gathering her husband hosted, Angela did not seem to be able to meet her gaze. The taller woman enjoyed seeing her squirm, apparently, because they remained silent for a few, long seconds before the brunette was forced to say something to break the ice, “I humbly thank you, my Countess, for your gracious hospitality. It has not gone unnoticed”. Maybe her boldness was not what it used to be, but her courteousness and charm were still very much intact, Alcina noted. 

All that came from Alcina was a soft hum. She stood there, accessing the woman before her. It was almost as if she was expecting something from her - Angela, being the chivalrous person that she was, knew exactly what was missing, but chose to ignore it for the time being, “That way, yes?”, she looked down the corridor Alcina had previously extended her arm towards. She secretly hoped she could simply go looking for the room herself. Standing near the Countess was torture - in the best way possible, of course. 

“Indeed,” came the sharp response. She was not pleased with Angela’s choices leading up to this moment. The Lady’s lips curled downwards, something the other woman missed, since she was not even looking at her to begin with. A mistake. 

Not one more word was said before the raven haired woman turned and began taking long strides towards her guest’s assigned chambers. Angela followed. She always would. 

Clenching her fists to keep herself from drifting her eyes downwards and along the Countess’s frame, arriving to her guest room came as a distraction and was therefore a god given gift. Someone please. Put her out of her misery.

She watched as Alcina opened the, now ridiculously small, door, bending over at the waist to enter the room. Angela had to do the same, only she did not bend as low as her host. The room was elegantly decorated, as was expected, and surprisingly clean.  She wondered just how many maids Alcina actually had and how long it would take scrape the floors clean, let alone dust each and every room off. She was glad she was not in their shoes, to say the very least. 

“I won’t be needing that,” Angela said, flatly. 

She could sense the taller woman’s rising anger, but her statement left the Countess confused enough that she ended up allowing the brunette to keep her head, “A mirror,” Alcina deadpanned. It was posed as a question, but when Angela turned her head to look the woman in the eyes, all she saw was utter disinterest.

“Yes. I would rather not,” she clasped her hands at her front and looked around the room. She should really stop doing that. The way she refused to meet Alcina’s eyes when she spoke to her was beginning to anger her. She could tell. 

“The tone you have been carrying thus far is extremely ill-advised. You are a guest in my Castle. Do not make me remind you again,” her voice was as cold as steel, yet the Lady of the House seemed to show leniency for the second time that morning. If Angela were someone else, her head would probably be on a spike in the Castle grounds. Still, abusing her luck any further would be unwise. 

The shorter woman’s pulse quickened and she bit on the insides of her cheek to keep herself grounded. Turning to fully face the Lady once more, she began removing the garments that were covering her face. First her hood and then her black mask, letting it settle around her neck, instead. 

Alcina’s eyes seemed to immediately absorb the newly exposed features, her gaze scanning her face shamelessly before falling squarely on her lips and on a scar on the left side of her upper lip, which was new to her. Her hair also looked different. Gone was the intricate hairstyle with braids - taking its place was a loose bun. Alcina’s eyes were, once again, the only thing that betrayed her emotions and cracked her mask, for everything else in the woman, from her face down to her posture, was absolutely still and unreadable. Angela was aware of the fact that she looked older. Pale. The agony she felt over the decades written all over her face.

She did not bother to decipher how Alcina saw her now, it was ultimately pointless and she doubted the Countess cared that much about whatever it was that she thought she saw in her. It had been years since the smaller woman had looked at herself in a mirror - she refused to do it ever since her transformation, in fact, which explained her aversion towards them now. 

“Forgive me, offending you was not my intention. It never will be,” her eyes were tired, yet she did not break eye contact with the woman this time, “it was poor of me,” she was visibly choosing her words in the most careful way possible, “I simply need to cover it, is all,” she hoped that her choice of words did not anger her host this time around. She awaited her response

 ...

“Do as you must,” and with that, the Lady left. 

Angela sighed to herself and began looking for spare sheets so she could cover the blasted thing and not have to look at it any longer. Thankfully, no one was there to see her as she struggled to place the sheets over the mirror - not wanting to look at herself as she did it made the affair ten times harder. It almost made her laugh, in fact. It was too ridiculous. A low chuckle resonated throughout the room all of the sudden. It... didn’t come from her. Turning slowly, she was met with a pair of bright, yellow eyes, lurking in the shadows. 

“It would be easier if you turned them to the side and tucked them behind it,” the young woman said, nodding her head towards the sheets Angela was holding. The brunette stared at her for a few seconds before looking down and taking her advice, turning the sheets, placing them over the mirror - though she turned her face to not look at her reflection - and, after a couple of attempts, managing to tuck them behind the damned thing. Finally.

“Well, would you look at that,” Angela mused. 

“That took you way longer than it should have,” the faceless woman deadpanned.

That seemed to catch Angela off guard and she snorted, against her better judgment, before clearing her throat and facing the pair of eyes once more, “I don’t think we’ve met. Angela D—“, she thought about extending a hand to greet the mysterious figure in the shadows, but was interrupted before she could even finish saying her name. 

“I know who you are,” she teased, “Mother has told us all we need to know about you,” she continued. That made Angela’s posture straighten. Us? Mother? 

“I seem to be at a disadvantage, then. The Countess has not told me your name,” Angela countered. She didn’t feel threatened by the girl, still, she seemed clever. And nothing good can come out of Alcina’s children, surely.

The mystery girl left the shadows then and, curiously enough, she did not seem to resemble Alcina at all, yet the way she carried herself did remind her of the Countess. Her calm, yet reserved demeanour almost too close to her mother’s. 

“Bela,” she told the taller woman, her face blank. 

“It is an honour to meet one of the Countess’s daughters,” she bowed her head slightly at the girl. 

“Mother spoke of you often,” the girl told her, apparently seeming to be more inclined towards skipping the pleasantries, “though I must warn you, do not upset her,” monotoned the daughter, “my sisters and I are not kind to those who do.” 

Angela didn’t take it as a threat, though she knew she probably should. Part of her was glad Alcina had such devoted daughters. The other half was amused at the child’s boldness. 

“I understand,” she told her, wanting to reassure her. Upsetting the Lady of the House was definitely not on Angela’s list of things to do, yet she didn’t want her daughters to think that she, a guest, planned on harming their mother. Gods forbid. 

“Good,” Bela finished. As soon as the word was out of her mouth she all but dissipated in front of Angela’s eyes, leaving in her wake a cloud of small insects who disappeared through the cracks in the walls and left the room. Were the cracks there to allow them to traverse the Castle faster...? Angela stood there for a second, trying to understand what had just happened before giving up and shaking her head slightly. Hopefully this day was done with throwing things at her and actually allowed her to finally rest before being summoned by Miranda. 

She was out of luck, it seemed. The nights were always so much harder on her for no apparent reason. At least not one that she was aware of. Before she tried to go to bed and call it a day, she had to ask Alcina for.... a bigger nightdress. It was utterly embarrassing, but thankfully the Countess was kind enough to not make any comments. The maids then gave her a silk nightgown - it didn’t fit her particularly well since the Lady was still taller than her, but it was better than wearing nothing at all. 

She was in bed and staring at the ceiling, her fingers intertwined and her hands resting on her chest. She was tired, but knew that having a good nights sleep was not something that would happen any time soon. Even if she did manage to rest her eyes for a couple of hours, the nightmares would certainly wake her up. She longed for the nights, before her transformation, when she simply had to shut her eyes to fall asleep for as long as she wished. Now she didn’t need to sleep as much, true, but the nightmares proved themselves to be much more than a nuisance. They plagued her almost every night. It frustrated the woman beyond words. 

Choosing to do something else with her “free” time, she got up, put her, or Alcina’s, slippers on, which were also not the right size for her, and left her room. The Castle was not as cold as it appeared to be, for whatever reason, so discomfort was not something she had to deal with as she explored the halls of a Castle she had already been in... in another life. Something caught her eye, then, as she roamed around, taking everything in. A piano. An expensive looking one, at that. She drew nearer to take a closer look, running her hands over the keys without pressing too hard on them so as to not make any sound. It was clean. Not a speck of dust on it. Those poor maids.

She felt a pair of eyes on her again, but the way the energy in the room shifted dramatically told her this wasn’t one of the daughters.

“Do you play?” Angela asked softly, her fingers still running over the surface of the piano. She heard a low hum first - the actual reply came a few seconds later.

“Yes, though it’s been centuries since I last indulged in it,” said the Countess, her tone was almost matching the other woman’s. It wasn’t soft per se, but it was softer than usual. 

“Ah,” Angela let out a bitter, halfhearted chuckle, “the mundane getting left behind once more, yes?”, she rested her hand on top of the piano and turned her head slightly, awaiting the other woman’s response but still not looking at her. 

“You speak of the past most fondly,” Alcina’s tone indicated that she disapproved of such notion, though she was clearly trying to not flat out say it. The comment made Angela’s expression close up immediately and she moved to stand next to a big window, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts creeping up on her. Ah. The moon and her were well acquainted by now.

“If I could go back in time, I would.” she retorted. That was all she wanted to say on the matter, though she doubted the conversation would end there. 

Alcina was still watching her from the shadows, her gaze trained on her. The scenario reminded Angela of a sinner confessing the unspeakable to a priest. Funny how the Countess was the priest in that situation. The thought had Angela biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The amusement quickly dissipated from her mind, however, as it often did.

“I have.... regrets. Nothing has meaning now,” the woman confessed, she crossed her arms at her midriff then, her nails digging into her biceps. 

“If you feel as if there may not be meaning, then find one and seize it,” the reply was not meant to sting, but it did nonetheless. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn’t she? 

“It is easier said than done,” Angela said bitterly. The conversation was beginning to turn sour. 

She heard the Lady tsk and then felt her getting closer, her steps almost soundless. She doesn’t hear the telltale clicking of her heels, so she must not be wearing them, “Excuses, excuses,” she was standing right next to her now, though she wasn’t facing the shorter woman. They were both looking out. Facing the moon. Angela found it preferable, that way. Stripping herself of all her walls in front of the Countess was easier if she did not have to stare into her eyes. The shadows served as her shield. The dark making her feel at home. 

They stayed in comfortable silence for awhile before Angela broke it “I still feel it,” she had an almost pained expression, her voice no more than a whisper, “withering away, like a dying ember, and rotting inside me,” 

That made Alcina turn her head to face her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the woman’s arms dropped, only for her to begin pinching the area between her index finger and thumb with her other hand. It looked painful.

“My humanity,” Silence. Her jaw clenched and her bottom lip trembled for a brief second, not out of sadness but anger, “she took everything from me” she sneered. 

“Mother Miranda only does what is best for us,” Angela wanted to interrupt her before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, but thought better of it. She pinched her hand harder. Alcina noticed. 

“Do not say that. It might be what you tell yourself, but do not say it to me. Please.” Her face twisted in both anger and frustration. She was trying her damnedest not to snap at the Countess. 

“The world could fit in your hands now. Seeing that as a curse and not a blessing is completely unfathomable,” Alcina coldly said. It was almost as if she was daring the shorter woman to test her patience once more. 

 “To you,”

 “To me, and everyone else,” 

Angela knew she could not make the other woman listen. Alcina had everything she had ever wanted - her transformation opened doors for her that would otherwise remain closed. Angela could understand that and was glad that the Lady of the House belonged to no one but herself. Still, that’s not how she saw it. Angela was taken, against her will, and experimented on by a woman whose only goal was to take what made Angela herself, turning her into one those.... things. And for what? What purpose did that serve her? They were all failed experiments. The rejects wrapped around her finger, some more than others. It was hell. How could Alcina not see that?

The point was, Alcina would never understand what she felt. Angela didn’t even fully understand it herself, to be quite honest. All she knew was she was not living. She wouldn’t wish what she was going through on her worst enemy. 

Knowing that debating the Countess was a pointless resistance for her, she simply turned to walk away, wanting to put some distance between them. She was so incredibly tired...

... and she would have left, if the other woman hadn’t grabbed her wrist with inhuman speed. Being forced to turn her entire body and face the Countess, she tried to pull her wrist back, which she failed to do. Alcina was unsurprisingly strong and her grip unrelenting. The amount of force she used caused Angela to stumble forward a bit and into her - they were practically breathing the same air now, though the shorter woman had to crane her head upwards to actually lock eyes with the Countess. Her height allowed her to be at eye level with Alcina’s collarbone, but no more than that. It didn’t bother her too much.... no reason behind it.

“Do not turn your back on me,” the Countess warned, a scowl painting her face. 

Even in this moment she looked absolutely magnificent, making Angela’s heart squeeze almost painfully in her chest for the first time in years. It dawned on her then, that the Countess was out of her normal attire - she wore a silken nightgown, much like her own, only hers actually fit her, and a sheer, black robe with a floral pattern; her hat was also missing. Closing her eyes to keep her gaze from wandering lower, all she could feel was the woman’s cold, yet impossibly soft, hand wrapped around her wrist. 

She knew the tips of her ears would’ve turned pink by now, if they could. Thinking about it only made it worse. Her chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her chest, and their breaths mingled. Angela gulped slightly before opening her eyes again. She desperately wished to caress the other woman’s face, right about now - the light provided by the moon highlighted her features in the most beautiful of ways. She was utterly and completely under the Countess’s spell. 

Alcina was still holding on to her wrist and using the same amount of force. Angela’s hand was trapped in between their bodies, if the Countess were to let go of her.... Well. 

There was a scowl on her face no longer and she seemed to be struggling to keep her facial expressions under control. Her eyes dropped to Angela’s, now parted, lips, particularly on her scar, causing her own lips to twitch. The brunette noticed and was overtook by longing almost immediately. She needed to get away from the other woman, though she didn’t know how and every second that went by made it harder for her to tell Alcina to unhand her. Maybe she didn’t need to get away. Maybe what she needed was to draw even closer. 

She could smell something floral - the other woman’s perfume? Maybe to honor the crest of House Dimitrescu? She could smell the Countess’s perfume, so, yes, they were that close. 

Choosing to blame it on how intoxicating the woman’s scent was, Angela’s right hand, the one that was free, slowly moved upwards and towards the taller woman’s face, her fingers ghosting over it, not daring to touch just yet. She was silently asking for the Countess’s consent - she knew she should’ve verbalised it, but all her senses were malfunctioning. All she could see was her. All she knew was Her. 

Alcina did not object, though her jaw clenched for a brief second. Angela suspected it was not due to anger, so she took it as her confirmation.

Initially, her touch resembled that of a feather - she feared that if she moved too quickly she would lose the woman just as fast. So far, so good. She ran the pads of her index and middle fingers over the Countess’s cheekbones, her eyes tracing the movement. Then, she ran the tips of her fingers over her nose, her brow; memorising every feature. Her pupils dilated when she traced them over the woman’s lips, which were now bare and without any lipstick. She wondered if she was taking more than she should, but her worries floated away when she heard the taller woman’s breath quicken before she was able to control it once more. 

Feeling emboldened, Angela cupped the right side of her face. Alcina was no longer forcefully grabbing her wrist, but gently holding it. The brunette’s hand then fell to the right side of her neck, sliding down to settle on the top of her breast and near her heart. 

And there they stayed for awhile. The moon their only witness. If this was a dream, Angela would kill whoever dared to wake her up. It didn’t seem like a dream, though, because what the other woman said next was vocalised much too clearly.

“You have haunted me for years,” she professed, her brow furrowed - she was clearly struggling to come to terms with whatever it was that she was currently feeling. Angela didn’t blame her. 

“Good,” it was said absentmindedly, though there was honesty behind it. 

Alcina’s chin turned upwards. She seemed... determined, maybe? Or was it something else? Angela was distracted. 

Oh, it was definitely determination, for the Countess’s hand, the one that was holding Angela’s wrist, snaked around the shorter woman’s neck and pulled her towards her for their lips to meet. 

Angela’s eyes all but bulged out of her head at first, but she quickly regained her senses. She was not a shy lover and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this specific moment several times throughout the years - she was not going to blow it now. Grabbing a fistful of Alcina’s robe and nightgown, she parted her lips, allowing the other woman to deepen the kiss further. They fit together perfectly - it was as if Angela had finally found the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. They had finally come full circle. This is what they should’ve done the first time they met. They both knew this. This was a second chance they were not going to miss. 

Turns out the Countess was an excellent kisser, not that it was of any surprise. She did have centuries to practice, after all, but it still made Angela’s heart flutter in her chest, the feeling settling on the pit of her stomach. Damn, that woman. The shorter woman inhaled through her nose sharply when Alcina’s hand, the one that was previously resting on her neck, moved upwards to grab a fistful of her hair - angling her head just so. Angela was more than happy to comply. 

Suddenly, Alcina broke their kiss, her lips now pink, causing Angela to lick her own in anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name leave those lips. Would the Countess even allow herself to do such a thing? Her thoughts were interrupted when the taller woman wordlessly began freeing her hair from the bun it was in. Her eyes burned with lust, but her movements were slow and gentle - they told a different story. 

When her hair cascaded down, Alcina’s lips upturned, making Angela’s twist into a smile. They gazed into each other’s eyes then. Alcina’s, in particular, revealing too much. They both knew this. It was too soon. 

The tender moment was broken when the black haired woman took notice of how Angela’s nightgown, which was hers - the thought sending a wave of possessiveness through her chest - was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Something dawned on her face then, and she used her left hand to pull one of the sleeves down, fully exposing Angela’s shoulder to the night air. She shivered, which did not go unnoticed by the other woman - her nipples were practically tearing holes through the soft fabric of the nightgown. The Countess locked eyes with her then, and what she saw only confirmed what was about to happen. 

Angela’s eyes wordlessly told her ‘Consume me’. And so she did.  

———

It seemed that it was possible for Angela to sleep without being plagued by nightmares, after all. Maybe it was due to how exhausted she was. She chose not to overthink it, now was not the time.

“What’s that,” Heisenberg said, flatly, looking to start another argument for the third time that morning. It seemed that not even during breakfast did the man mind his business. It didn’t help how he was sitting directly in front of her, either. Why had Alcina arranged the seats like that? 

Angela’s expression seemed to speak for her, because the man felt like he had to explain what he had meant by his question, “That,” he pointed with his fork, “on your neck,”. Ah. Well. 

She can’t talk about how the Head of House Dimitrescu picked her up effortlessly, placed her on top of her grand piano and... pushed her over the edge. Several times. She most definitely cannot talk about how, even after not allowing Angela to catch her breath, the Countess picked her up bridal style - the brunette’s legs shaking too much for her to walk - and took her to her chambers to make the shorter woman sing her name again. Over and over again. She certainly will not mention how the woman branded her with her mouth, though never actually biting into the soft flesh, as she allowed Angela to come down from the heights, her fingers still inside her as she did it. No. She couldn’t say any of that. 

The woman looked down at her plate to keep her composure before meeting the man’s prying gaze again, “I woke up with it,” she paused to chew her food, not daring to look at anyone else. Alcina was on her left - she could tell she was watching her - and her girls were on her right - also watching her, “Maybe I have began decomposing faster than expected,”. She heard one of the daughters snicker before being forced to keep it down after being kicked  under the table - by Bela, she was guessing.

The reply didn’t seem to satisfy Heisenberg, but he choose not to pry, for he sensed that the truth would probably end up disgusting him. 

Angela gave Alcina a sidelong glance then, noticing the way she was hiding how the edge of her lips were turning upwards behind her glass.

 ......

  In another life, indeed.

[peaktotheocean]

post-production

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt ao3 link here Notes: If you ever watched the Lord of the Rings behind-the-scene discs and thought “I wish there was a 12K Witcher AU where Jaskier is the famous actor who buys a horse for Geralt the horse trainer” then you’re in luck

Jaskier knew that he would miss the stable the most. After weeks of filming on location, surrounded by crew and actors that Valdo had already poisoned against him, the stable had become a respite of sorts.

No matter the smells (the many, many smells), Jaskier would always remember the sun beams shining through the high windows and illuminating the dust and dirt to shine on the horses. Jaskier had tried and failed many times to capture the moment on his phone— to the point where he was convinced that it was impossible. He would just have to burn the sight into his memory.

Jaskier had just one more day in this stable and on set and then he could sort of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Certainly not acting.

Five blockbusters in four years and Jaskier's exhaustion knew no bounds. Not to mention people he thought were his friends just clinging to him for a ride.

He had meant for his career to be music and yet here he was on what he considered the wrong marquees.

Taking a small acting job offered by a friend in order to help pay rent had escalated into a full career and never worrying about rent again.

But then there was Valdo.

Jaskier had only started hearing about the rumors during the second week of the shoot. And by, then it had been too late. Valdo's charisma and charm took hold and Jaskier wasn't to be trusted. Was he a thief? A gossip? A drunk? A backstabber? It depended on which rumor went around that morning.

"Last day, darling."

"What?" The horsemaster's gruff tone was shorter than usual today.

"Sorry. I was--" Jaskier broke off. He didn't want to say it aloud. Which was silly because he had seen Geralt speaking to his own horse, Roach many mornings. Not to mention afternoons and evenings and any other time they were shooting scenes and Geralt was brought on set to stay with the horses. "I was just telling Pegasus that it's our last day with the horses. Or my last day, I suppose."

"Hmm."

Jaskier already missed the grunts. It was unclear if Geralt disliked him because of Valdo's rumors. But truthfully, the horsemaster hadn't seemed to have taken a shine to anyone over the course of shooting.  

Well, not any humans, at least.

He doted on all the horses. Roach in particular, and Jaskier couldn't blame him. She was a sweet mare and if Jaskier hadn't been assigned his darling Pegasus, he would have liked a chance to ride Roach as well.

But of course not. She was Geralt's favorite and Valdo's mount.

Not that the actor cared. The animals were more like props than living beings to him. Jaskier didn't like thinking about the amount of times he had seen Valdo curl his lip at Roach.

Just Jaskier's luck.

He had beaten out Valdo for a role which he hadn’t even known the man had wanted. And in return, Jaskier’s last few months had been lonely and uncomfortable and—

He set his forehead against Pegasus’s neck and took a breath to steady himself.

He could still feel Geralt’s presence. Lifting his head back up, he smiled at the man who showed no emotion in return. At least Jaskier knew that Geralt didn't like anyone else on the set either. In a strange way, it helped. Geralt was a part of his respite in the stables just by being impartial to the rest of the gossip of the set.

"Not the last day overall, of course. But I checked and I know we're moving on to another area for the next month or so. Granted, I guess you'll still be here if they want to do re-shoots, right? Can't go through the trouble of training so many horses over again."

Geralt had apparently decided that Jaskier wasn't even worth of his grunts anymore. As if Jaskier was the one who came out early to the stables to interrupt him and not vice-versa. Still, the actor had to admit that the quiet of the stable comforted him regardless. No one gossiping. No Valdo. Just him and Pegasus.

And Geralt, he supposed.

And Roach.

And the other horses.

Well, Jaskier supposed no moment was truly perfect.

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

Jaskier let his fingers run over the intricate chainmail of one of the many costumes from the film. Percival and his artistic team had done such excellent work. It was a shame that most of it would be auctioned off but with any luck, some would go into a production vault or even a perhaps a museum exhibit for film costumes. While Jaskier enjoyed the way his costume felt on him, purchasing it wasn't a priority for him.

“Percival!" He called when he saw the crewman in question. "This is for the auction, right? Do you know when it's actually happening?”

Jaskier hated how nervous he felt. He knew the horses were up on the auction block and he had a plan. Pegasus was the only good part of this filming and Jaskier didn't want to leave him behind. “For the horses,” Jaskier clarified.

“You interested?”

“Very.” Feeling much like the office was his primary school classroom, Jaskier stood up straight and put on his best serious face. “I’ve got the space and a neighbor who already shared the name of the veterinarian he uses for his farm.”

“Better prepared than most actors who make a snap decision at those auctions. Plenty of times I’ve heard of some bigshot selling off a horse after less than a month."

Jaskier couldn't tamp down the pride he felt at getting Percival's approval. Gods, he needed to leave this set. Just spend some time with Priscilla and not think about acting for a while. With any luck, he'd be spending time with Pegasus as well.

“How awful.”

“Can’t be helped. You’ll want Pegasus, of course?” Percival asked knowingly, poking fun at Jaskier's wide smile.

“Please. Send me the info and if I can’t be there and I’ll send someone else in my stead.” Jaskier couldn't help himself. “Truthfully, I’d take Roach too but I suspect the horsemaster has his eye on her.”

“Geralt?" Percival asked. He shook his head. "He can’t afford her.”

“You’re kidding.” What a shame. Jaskier had never met a horse and a rider so in tune with one another. He had just taken it as fact that Geralt would be taking Roach home with him. For the first few weeks, until gruffly corrected by Geralt, Jaskier had assumed that Geralt owned Roach and had brought her to set in the first place.

Though, looking back, it was a foolish thing to think. Roach and Valdo had been paired together for the duration of the filming and Geralt's stony glare anytime the actor mounted the mare...well, Jaskier would assume that if Roach had belonged to Geralt, he would have banned Valdo from riding her.

“Already asked him. I went to give him the info because I thought the same as you. Figured he’d be first in line but he didn’t even consider it. Poor fella. I didn’t want to push, you know?”

“Good man.” Jaskier stroked Pegasus and his eyes drifted over to Roach.

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

Zoltan's head poked through the door of office had housed the horse crew for the past few months. It hadn't become home, certainly, but the production team had put together a good group. Geralt would be keeping the contact information of more than a few riders and trainers in hopes of working with them again on future projects.

"You headed out, Rivia?"

"Almost packed. Just wanted to stop by the stables." The production auction had already happened but Geralt hadn't heard of any of the horses being moved out just yet. That kind of transport, especially if they weren't being kept local, took time to arrange. He had double-checked too. There was plenty of time for him to say goodbye to Roach. Give her a few extra treats, a good brushing down. The best sendoff a girl could ask for, really.

And she deserved a proper goodbye. Geralt had second-guessed himself, knowing how much it would hurt to say farewell but he couldn't help himself. Between the actors and the long shoots, all the horses deserved some post-production pampering. Geralt hoped the rest of them would get it once they were with their new owners and families.

"Surely you're doing more than stopping by."

"What?"

Zoltan gave him a perplexed look. "Roach, I mean. You're taking her with you, aren't you?"

"Can't afford her," Geralt said, trying not to grit his teeth. He had only said it aloud once before. When Percival had asked for his future plans. All of the horses were auctioned off at the end of the production, along with various bits and bobs that the studio didn't want to keep or store.

Roach was a prize mare, along with many of the other impressively bred horses in that stable.

Geralt would have loved to take her back to the ranch and shared stables that he ran with his family but it just wasn't in the cards. It was kind of the manager to even come to him and inquire. It spoke volumes about what Geralt had accomplished over the course of the shoot. At least with that gesture, Geralt knew he'd have a reference for future jobs. Perhaps not just for him but for the ranch too.

"But she's in your name. Isn’t she?"

"What are you talking about?"

Zoltan came into the room now, still looking at Geralt as though the man needed his head examined. He spoke slowly. "Geralt, I saw the finalized auction list. She's been paid for already and your name is on the front of her paddock."

Geralt froze. Surely Zoltan misread or even misunderstood. Geralt's name's was occasionally listed on paperwork as a handler if a buyer wanted to know more about a horse's temperament. But not as the owner or buyer.

He slowly backed away from Zolton and calmly headed towards the stables, and Roach's stall. He did not want to sprint eagerly or get his hopes up so instead, Geralt inhaled and exhaled every other measured step.

Roach's ownership papers were slipped in a plastic sleeve with a little metal hook attached so it remained securely on the nails of the stall door. Little dried stains and dirt covered the plastic and Geralt imagined Roach trying to get at her own papers.

Geralt von Rivia.

Undeniably, there in black and white. Geralt blinked, not believing his own eyes.

But still, there it was: Geralt von Rivia.

"Ah, Geralt!" The stablemaster came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I had heard that you weren't able to bid. What a lovely surprise when I saw the name." Roach stretched as far out of her stall as she could manage, just reaching Geralt to nudge him. "And it looks like she agrees as well."

"But I didn't bid," Geralt said, confused. He stared at the paperwork for an extended period of time. He just couldn't believe it. Even encased in plastic that had corners peeling away at the top, it looked as officially legal as the other ones hangin off of the rest of the stalls in the stable.

"What?"

"I didn't bid. I told them that I couldn't. I didn't— I don't..." Geralt tilted his head and looked at the placard attached to the paddock. Geralt von Rivia and Roach.

How?

"I don't think anyone would be so cruel to play on a joke on you like this, mate."

"How can I check?"

The stablemaster pulled out his phone and held up a finger. Geralt didn't argue but watched the man dial a number and take a few steps away.

Roach stretched her neck again so her entire head came through the opening above the stall.

"Hello, girl." Geralt used both hands to rub at her face. He couldn't help it. Even if his name on the paperwork ended up being a cruel joke, he could imagine her at his family's ranch. She wouldn't take shit from the bigger stallion his brother kept and she'd teach their other mares to do the same.

"I talked to the production office. Said she's yours. The bid was placed anonymously."

"What? Anonymously?" Geralt looked at Roach as though she had the answers but the stablemaster continued to talk.

"They also included shipping costs as well as extra for feed, care, special needs, etc. A retainer essentially."

"Anonymous? How could they manage that?” Geralt leaned against the stall door, brain going into overdrive. He wasn't even sure where to start.

The stablemaster clearly could tell, and his voice softened, speaking as he would to any of the horses in the building. Geralt couldn't find it in himself to angry. It was a strange version of kindness that, in his overwhelmed state, he had no option except to accept. "It's all in the paperwork."

"Can I get a copy?"

"She's yours, Geralt, of course. Her and the paperwork."

Geralt looked at the paperwork attached to the stall and began to slide it out of its protective slip. He balanced his phone in one hand and the papers in the other as he slowly began taking photographs of each one. "I want to send the information to my friend before I— before I take her home."

"A lawyer, you mean."

Geralt nodded. "Just to double check."

“Smart man. Let me know if I can be of anymore help.”

Mercifully, the stablemaster left and Geralt let himself slide down the stall door. He knew he'd have to change pants before leaving now but he couldn't bring himself to care. He leaned his head back against the door.

He squinted at the sun through the windows as he struggled to hear the phone ringing amidst the breakdown of the rest of the set.

“Geralt.”

“Yenn.” Geralt couldn’t manage more than that. He took a deep breath to try again but Yennefer stopped him.

“Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you were still on location for that god awful film.”

“I am. I’m still there. I just. Something’s happened. I’m fine,” he added quickly. “It’s just strange.”

“Explain.”

"If someone bought you something anonymously, is there a way to tell who it was?"

"A gift? What kind of gift has you this shaken up? I am going to need so much more context, Geralt. Not to mention lunch and permission to laugh at you for whatever this is once you're back in the area.” Yennefer stopped talking and Geralt heard a few voices, none of them hers. “That is, I assume you're not back in the area yet. I just saw Eskel at the market last week. He would have mentioned it."

"No we— the film just wrapped. Everything was being broken down and there was an auction but." Geralt took a breath and gathered his words. "The horse I talked to you about."

"The smart one, yes." Yennefer's voice grew quiet and sympathetic in a way that would have surprised Geralt when they first met. But she knew what horses meant to him and respected it. They had both come a long way with one another. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to buy her."

"That’s the thing, Yenn, someone bought her for me. I just received the paperwork. They paid for her, the board, and transportation back to the ranch. Not to mention a little more if needed. What could be needed?"

"Maybe they thought since you couldn't afford the price of the horse, you couldn't afford food, medical care, things like that."

"Oh." Geralt couldn't decide if that was insulting or thoughtful. Most people on set only saw him in his barn clothing so perhaps they couldn't be blamed for the assumption. He certainly didn't attend any social gatherings after the work day. The cost of Roach had held him back, not the care.

"You don't know who it could have been? Not a clue?"

"I'm...not exactly friendly to people on set," Geralt growled. “I certainly didn’t endear myself to that Marx asshole who rode her during filming.” He hated being on set but he was there to do a job and at least if he was there, he knew someone was protecting the animals.

"You do want her, right?"

"Of course I do," Geralt gripped the phone tightly. "I just want to make sure it wasn't some kind of mistake. Or strings attached. That she can't just be taken away at all in the future."

"All right. I'll look into it. Send me everything and give me a few hours."

"Thank you."

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

Geralt von Rivia.

Jaskier shifted all of Pegasus’ equipment to one arm so he could reach out and touch the paper. It felt good to see.

He looked around the stable to check he was alone before giving Roach one last pat. He kissed her on the nose and whispered, “Goodbye.”

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

Geralt’s entire afternoon had to shift. No longer could he throw his duffel bag in his truck and endure the long drive home. Instead he spent the day asking for another night in one of the spare rooms near the set. He went to ask after borrowing a trailer, only to find that it was one of the included costs with the purchase of Roach and far too nice for his truck.

Most importantly, he spent time with Roach. She was the last horse left at the end of the day. He had avoided people by hopping into her stall at some point, the stables full of agencies and buyers coming to collect.

A few people stopped to read the paperwork outside Roach and Geralt couldn’t stop his pride from rising. She was a star, great stock but even better temperament. And she was all his now.

Thankfully, by the time Yennefer called, no one was in the stables to hear a mobile phone start ringing inside one of the stalls.

“That was fast.”

“I’m very good at my job, Geralt.” Geralt wisely held his tongue. “Right so. Roach was bought and paid for by a Julian Alfred Pankratz."

Geralt blinked. He looked to Roach as though she could answer his questions. “I...I don't know a Julian-- whatever. Whatever name you just said to me."

Yennefer gently, "I think he's more commonly called Jaskier."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Jaskier. You know, one of the stars of the film series you've been working on the past few months."

Geralt bit back a growl. Yennefer was doing him a favor. He didn't need to be a twat. "I know who he is. I don't know why he bought Roach though."

He had certainly never been kind to Jaskier. If anything he had been a downright grump. Which wasn't much different from how Geralt treated most of the actors. Even the ones who had been nothing but kind to him.

He just couldn't risk it. The cast were a load of gossips and each week, Geralt heard something different about Jaskier and his coworkers. Geralt hadn't wanted to get involved.

It wasn't worth his time to be a notch in the bedpost for an actor who apparently had paramours throughout the cast and country, if the rumors were to be believed.

Clearly it hadn't mattered to Jaskier anyway.

"Bought and gave to you," Yennefer corrected. "Roach is in your name. I had to jump through some hoops to find this information. It wasn't easy. I don't think he intended on you ever knowing. He never mentioned it at all, correct?"

Most of the conversations Geralt had with the man were one-sided, or just corrections for his horse handling.

"Most of the actors left the day after the film wrapped. I haven't seen any of them save for a few who needed re-shoots with some of the sets we still had." His fist tightened around his phone. “I only told one person that I couldn’t afford Roach. He's not the type to pass around gossip.”

"I don't think Jaskier meant anything bad by it, Geralt."

"I just don't...understand."

"Me neither but unless you'd also like me to follow up, perhaps get in touch with his management?" She left the question hanging in the air and Geralt's face reddened at even the mention of talking to Jaskier again. It wasn't the man who had him worried but the whole process. Going through his team and agent just to ask why? What if he took back the gift?

Yennefer read his mind, as per usual. “He can't take Roach back, Geralt. I made sure of it but honestly, it looks like he is the one who made sure of it. No strings."  

"No strings."

"Do you want me to try and find out why? Have you looked at her teeth? Perhaps you might want to look a gift horse in the--"

"Yennefer," Geralt growled.

"Take Roach back to the ranch, Geralt. I'm sure your family will be excited to meet her."

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

"Is this my welcome?" Geralt hadn't even gotten out of his truck yet but he was tempted to make a u-turn and leave the ranch the same way he came in. He wasn't sure where he and Roach would go but anywhere would be better than his little brother giving him a suspicious expression the moment he pulled into the driveway. Eskel pushed Lambert to try and snap him out of his daze. "Well, are you just going to look at me like that or are you going to say hello?"

"Did we know you were bringing home a horse?" Eskel asked delicately while Lambert just continued to stare.

"I didn't even know I was bringing home a horse." Geralt slammed the driver's side door shut and caught Eskel in a hug. He snagged Lambert too even though the little shit tried to wriggle away after two seconds.

Lambert went through his fingers on a very short checklist. "Aiden was hoping you'd break your rule of no autographs for this one. But you didn't do that. And you brought home a horse."

"We've got a free stall, right?" Geralt looked towards the stables. They rarely had a full house unless they were hosting some kind of trail camp. Still, he hadn't even thought of calling home to check.

"She's staying?"

"She's mine." Geralt handed Eskel the paperwork and Lambert immediately hung over his shoulder to read through it.

Eskel's eyes widened at the sight of her lineage. "How did you afford--"

"I didn't. It's…a long story."

"You didn't steal a horse, did you? Someone is going to be looking for this girl."

"She's not stolen. Her name is Roach." Geralt ran his finger through his hair, pulling at the tangles from having the window open on the long ride back home. "Melitele, can we not do this now? Let me get her settled and then I'll tell you about it."

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look and Eskel shoved Lambert off his shoulder. "Lambert, go tell Dad that Geralt's home. When does the trailer have to go back?"

"They bought that too."

"The trailer came with the horse?" Eskel waved his hand after seeing the pained look on Geralt's face. "All right, don't tell me. I know you don't want to explain it more than once."

He left Geralt to blessed silence. Silent as a farm could get, at any rate. He patted Roach's flank and coaxed her out of the trailer, leaving it unlocked and opened behind him. The ranch was isolated enough as it was and he'd be back for it soon enough.

"This is Scorpion. That's Kelpie," Geralt introduced Roach to each horse as he walked her by their stalls, finally coming to an empty one. He eyed up Scorpion, already thinking ahead. Eskel's stallion was of good lineage. It wouldn't be a bad match to think of for the future.

He hung around the stable as long as he thought he was able to. Just because one of his brothers hadn't been sent out to fetch him yet didn't mean that Vesemir hadn't already planned it. Geralt patted Roach one last time and headed out.

The farmhouse smelled just as he left it, like horse and his father's cooking. The first an unfortunate by-product of their lives but the second, a welcome back.

They didn't all still live in the house. Eskel had a cabin on the furthest edge of the land with a herd of goats that they rented out and kept for milk. Lambert and Aiden had just moved to another patch of acreage on the opposite side before Geralt had left for the film shoot. From what Geralt could gather from Eskel's texts, they swapped out more nights than one making sure someone was there to help Vesemir with the morning chores.

"Hey Dad." Geralt leaned in and let his Vesemir clap him on the back.

"Good to have you home." Vesemir's gruff voice washed over Geralt and he felt something in his shoulders settle. He took the offered bowl of stew and purposefully brushed against both Eskel and Lambert on his way to sit at the table.

"Good to be home."

Lambert, mouth full of beef stew, used his dripping spoon to gesture to the TV.

“You worked with him, right?”

"Who?" Geralt looked up from his bowl. There was an entertainment show on the television but it had gone commercial. Lambert rolled his eyes at him.

“Jackass. Jaskier. They had a whole segment on him."

Geralt swallowed and before he could overthink it, told them, "That’s the one who bought Roach. Bought her in my name, I mean."  

Eskel near choked on a beef chunk, "What?"

"Him?" Lambert's eyes widened. He shot a look at Vesemir. "Did you, uhh--" but he didn't get a chance to finish because Geralt threw a chunk of bread at his head.

"I didn't sleep with him, you ass. I don't know why he did it. I wasn't even supposed to know, according to Yennefer."

Geralt wished he knew why. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, though having Roach home and in her stall was a significant balm. He accepted another slice of bread from Eskel.

"She checked it out?" Vesemir asked knowingly. "Everything is all right?"

"The paperwork all checks out. No strings," Geralt echoed Yennefer's earlier words.

"Good lineage," Eskel added slowly. "There’s no issues with her health?”

Geralt nodded. "None that I know of. I'm going to call in Coën tomorrow to give her a full check-up and we'll go from there. I don't think there will be a problem though."

Lambert shrugged at Eskel who still looked suspicious. He eyed the door that led out closest to the barn as if he wanted to go interrogate Roach to find out more. “Oh. Well, I guess a person who buys a horse anonymously as a gift can’t be that big of an ass then like the papers say, right? Was he?”

“Was he what?”

“An ass. Was Jaskier an ass?” Lambert asked again.

Geralt pondered the question. He hadn't expected to think this much about anyone from the cast after production had set down. Definitely not Jaskier.

Truthfully, Jaskier had been the furthest thing from an ass. Sure, he had gotten to the stables earlier than the other actors but it was a strange thing for Geralt to complain about considering how late the rest of the cast were for their training sessions. He cared about the horses too. It had been sweet.

"What are you on about?" Vesemir grumbled.

Lambert, mouth full of stew, looked at Eskel imploringly, fighting to swallow. Eskel tilted his head towards the television. "The lad who bought Geralt his horse apparently got on the bad side of some folks. The gossip shows say they've been spreading rumors about him for months."

"Did he say that? Jaskier." Geralt's attention suddenly back on the television. The b-roll footage of a posh gentleman on the red carpet was not the same man covered in a dirt -covered costume after a ride or a long shoot, that was for sure. It still was Jaskier though.

"No one's heard from him. It's all come out now after the production's ended."

Eskel plucked a newspaper off of the counter and passed it over to Geralt who took it but kept it closed. Jaskier's face was on the cover or it would have been if his hand hadn't blocked the photograph from the view. "Wouldn't be surprised if he sued them for libel though. Judging by what they're saying in here, he's certainly got a case."

FALSEHOODS AND PRODUCTION WOES the newspaper headline shouted. Geralt ran through the first few lines of the article and felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

“I heard some of these.” He had been on more toxic sets in the past. With more difficult actors trying to make passes at him, sometimes aggressively. Thinking that crew should be lucky to get their attention. Television shows, soap operas had been worse. But this still hadn't been good. And Jaskier had been nothing but kind to him. Annoying, perhaps early in the morning but, certainly nothing like the rumors had suggested. Still Geralt had done his best to ignore him.

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll call you in to testify.”

Geralt leaned against the counter and stared the newspaper, hoping no one else heard the roaring in his ears.

Perhaps there had been another reason Jaskier was hiding in the stables each morning instead of by the breakfast tables in the craft tent.

Certainly Geralt had taken his solace in the company of animals before. Jaskier had clearly just been doing the same.

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

“You have more security out in the country. That’s the whole point of the privacy fence,” Priscilla argued. Jaskier had been sneaking peeks through the blinds for the better part of the morning. His face had gotten paler with each glance.

“I know you’re right.”

“I am. London will still be here when this all blows over. Or when a judge makes it blow over.” Jaskier sighed. Priscilla hated seeing him like this, curled up on the couch, phone turned off. Country life would be pleasant in more than one way.

“You can bond some more with that horse you’ve got. I’m sure he missed you.”

“I’ll just have to come back to the premiere,” Jaskier warned. “You won’t have the flat to yourself for too long.”

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

"Zoltan."

"You're going."

"Going where?"

"To the premiere."

"We're a little busy here." Geralt gazed around the quiet stables and winced at the phone in his hand. What Zoltan didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The last thing Geralt wanted to do was take the journey into London and be around people that he didn't even socialize with when he was paid to.

"All the crew is invited and the production team is insisting the crew come so they don't look like asshats. Please come keep me company," Zoltan near begged.

"Too late for that isn't it?" Geralt thought back to the television stories and the articles about Jaskier.

Sure, maybe Geralt had given into his curiosity and googled Jaskier's name a few times after his first night home but the man really had vanished. No photographer had been able to capture any images of him and his team weren't responding to any questions.

Geralt wasn't sure if it was Jaskier's team at work or someone in his corner but certainly he had read a few articles about instances of Jaskier's kindness. He had experienced that first hand and judging by the rest of the stories, he felt they had to be true. Most of Jaskier's generosity came anonymously but he hadn't always been as good at covering his tracks as he had been with Roach.

"Well, perhaps. Valdo made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just meant. All those rumors he spread about Jaskier. Turns out this wasn't the first person who he had done this too. I heard tell that Valdo is going to be blacklisted in the industry and then sued for gossip. Defamation or something. I'm not too sure. It'll be out in the papers soon enough."

"Libel," Geralt murmured, thinking back to the articles he had read. "Even I heard gossip around the set."

"I didn't believe any of it, personally. Jaskier was always a polite fellow and some of it was nasty. Well, I'm sure you didn't either. Otherwise Jaskier wouldn't have done you that solid."

"What solid?"

Zoltan was quiet for a beat too long.

Geralt sighed. One more piece of the puzzle. "You mean Roach. I know he bought Roach for me. But how did you know?"

"Ah well..."

"I had to go through a lawyer to find out," Geralt added.

"I did the paperwork," Zoltan admitted. "He did want it to be anonymous but I thought that was just so production couldn't give him a hard time about buying two horses."

"He bought another horse?"

Zoltan paused again. "He really never mentioned this to you? He was in the stables near every morning."

"For training."

"Not just for training. Though I guess we know now that he was just trying to stay away from Valdo and his cronies." Geralt wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never been anyone's idea of a respite and his guilt at knowing he hadn’t made the time easier for Jaskier still weighed on his mind. Though perhaps Jaskier had just been after the horses. "He bought the one he rode. Pegasus."

"Oh."

Geralt hadn't expected that. He knew Jaskier had gotten along with the horse, of course. That had been easy enough to see, sweet even. But it was still a surprise. A pleasant one.

There was something about Jaskier buying a horse for himself and for Geralt. As if the man understood the responsibility and the importance. He wasn't just buying Roach as a gift for whatever reason, he knew everything the job would entail.

"The premiere is in London. Should be a good time so long as no one leaks the news about any legal cases beforehand."

Geralt rubbed his hand over Roach's nose and made a snap decision. "I'll meet you there."

"Really?"

"You owe me a drink."

"Should be an open bar, mate."

"Well, that makes it easy for you then."

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

Geralt wasn't exactly keeping up with Jaskier's story but Aiden and Lambert watched enough entertainment news for the rest of them. Gossip papers would be left out around the barn by visitors without issue. If Geralt just happened to see that Jaskier hadn't been heard from in a few weeks since production shut down then, well, that was just a fact that lived in Geralt's brain.

One that he definitely didn't overthink. Not with the premiere already on his mind.

"It really was Valdo," Lambert had told him one morning. "Apparently he wanted that role of Jaskier's so badly that he decided that he'd try to make sure the guy would never have any other roles again."

Geralt didn't let on that he had known. Still, he hadn't thought about the creep since Zoltan had brought him up.

Valdo. Like Zoltan had said, it was no wonder Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables with Geralt. Valdo Marx would never deign to get to the stables early in the morning, even when it was a necessity that he do so.

"Loads of other actors apparently apologized for listening to Valdo. They'd been giving Jaskier the cold shoulder for weeks now. But still, no one has seen him."

"I can't blame him for wanting to take a break from acting. Even now with the rumors out, I think I'd find another industry to work in all together." Aiden shook his head. He looked up at Geralt hopefully, nudging Lambert conspicuously. "You haven't heard from anyone from set talking about it?"

Geralt gave Lambert an exasperated look. "I know you had overheard that conversation. I'm not taking either of you to the premiere. I'm staying for one drink and then getting on the train again."

"Told you so," Lambert muttered. "Fine. Be that way."

“Poor guy,” Eskel murmured. “I’d hide too if I just had to spend months contractually obligated with people all poisoned against me.”

Geralt kept his eyes down, wishing the conversation would change. Wishing he hadn’t been such a fool. At least he knew why Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables. Not that the information helped Geralt’s newly-acquired nausea.

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

It would be fine.

That's what Geralt kept repeating to himself on the tube ride into London.

Geralt would go in, have a drink with Zoltan, find Jaskier, thank him, and then never have to think of the man again. A strange sense of closure for someone he never had a relationship with, platonic or otherwise, but it was the right thing to do.

Everytime he looked at Roach or rode her around the ranch, he thought of Jaskier. It wasn't guilt or anything owed to the man. Geralt believed in the actor's earnestness and no-strings gift.

He managed to find Zoltan right away, the two of them hiding in a corner of the hotel bar through the actual film and more when crowds finally came back.

"I had wondered if Jaskier was even going to come," Zoltan confided in Geralt, leaning closer to the bar and looking over their shoulders as their lobby filled up.

"Because of Marx?"

Zoltan nodded. "I suspect there will be a healthy number of people keeping them away from one another."

"For good reason." Geralt tried not to be too obvious in his glances behind them but Zoltan knew enough of the cause. "Why come at all, I wonder?"

"Contract," Zoltan told him, pressing his lips thin. He shook his head at the thought. "It's written in the contracts that they've got to do press and this counts as press."

"The red carpet beforehand, surely. But I can't imagine a party is." Geralt shifted uncomfortably. The bar was filling up and he and Zoltan were getting squashed to one side already. The gracious and well-tipped bartender had thought ahead and topped the two of them off before the rush began.

"You've been in this business for a few years now. Surely you're not that naive."

Geralt finally caught sight of Jaskier. In a plain blue suit, unlike such patterned clothing he had worn even after Geralt had told him he’d only get the fineries dirty.

Without turning to look at the crowd or see if anyone was watching him, Jaskier hurried up the side stairs to where Geralt knew there was another reserved space, a small but grand library room that hadn’t been alrered since the 30s. He and Zoltan had stumbled upon it earlier in the afternoon while hiding from cameras.

"I'm more naive than I think sometimes." Geralt nodded to Zoltan and held out his hand. Zoltan took it to shake instantly. “It was good to see you. Call if you’re ever by the ranch. We’d be happy to have you.”

Following Jaskier’s path and manners, Geralt also didn’t look behind him as he slipped up the same stairs, closing the paneled door after him.

Geralt allowed himself a moment to look at Jaskier. The man had his coat in hand and was staring out of the rather large window flanked by two bookshelves.

“I just wanted to—“ Jaskier spun around, hand to his chest. Geralt took a step backwards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, even though his heavy breaths were still evident. He stood up straight and blinked a few times too quickly. Geralt softened his voice, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Jaskier. I just wanted to catch you to say thank you.”

Jaskier flinched, just slightly. He tilted his head and looked at Geralt as though he was the picture of innocence, furrowing his brow slightly to sell the confused image.

"For what?"

"Jaskier," Geralt chastised. He was in no mood. He had been around far too many people this night. Jaskier thought so too judging by the fact that he had left the main party room for this quieter one. Still, Geralt knew that wasn’t the only reason. "Thank you for Roach."

Jaskier's mouth opened a bit and then closed again. He seemed to be eyeing how Geralt was blocking the only exit out of the room. "How do you know?"

"Was I not supposed to find out?"

"Well, it was— anonymous. I thought." Jaskier's confused expression tightened as though he was trying to remember the legal jargon he had gone through when setting up Roach's purchase and fund.

"I--" Geralt felt his face go a bit red with embarrassment at that. "I wanted to make sure she really was mine. No strings or anything. I had a lawyer friend look into it just to double check."

"Right.” Jaskier shook his head, a few locks of hair coming loose from their coiffed position. “Yes, of course."

Geralt hated that Jaskier was agreeing with him. As if it was perfectly all right for Geralt to be suspicious of a gift and also of Jaskier himself. What a pair they were.

"Look," Jaskier held up his hands in front of him, "I know you don’t like me and I didn’t to it so you’d be— beholden to me or forced to pretend to like me or whatever. You weren’t supposed to find out. But that awful man from production was going to buy her and I couldn’t let that happen and I had heard that you were had turned down the opportunity which just seemed wrong. I mean, she’s clearly your horse and—"

"Thank you." Geralt said firmly. “Just...thank you."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Jaskier swallowed and chanced a look out the window again. Geralt watched him, very aware that he had done what he came to do. Still he couldn’t make himself leave.

"Are you planning on hiding here all right?"

Jaskier shrugged. "I haven���t decided yet.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to do with that one.

"Would you like to come visit Roach?" He tried next.

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable.

“Right now?”

Geralt remembered the early training calls, how quiet Jaskier was when other people began to come around the barn, the rumors he heard even his first week on set. How he had let them affect the way he handled being around Jaskier more than anyone else. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" Geralt asked suddenly, not realizing the strangeness of the question.

"What?" Jaskier seemed taken aback which was more than fair.

"I only meant— Here in London or LA or New Yo--"

"Here. England, I mean. I’ve got a little place a little ways outside of London."

That could be anywhere, Geralt didn’t say. Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he was holding himself tightly with his arms straight down at his side so his hands could be shoved into his pockets.

It had been weeks since they had seen each other last and Geralt just. He had so many things to say now but couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth.

He thought about Jaskier every time he rode Roach around the farm. He wished that it was just the two of them at 6am on the training set again. Jaskier on Pegasus and Geralt on Roach, going through the obstacle courses.

He wanted a second chance to ignore rumors and laugh at Jaskier's jokes and flirt back at him. Geralt had that open Jaskier still in his mind, who was so pleased to see both Geralt and the horses even though it was barely past dawn and he had had a late shoot the previous night.

"Did you really buy Pegasus too?" Geralt asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaskier blushed. "I did. He's with me. Well, a stable near me. I know I'm not the greatest at care as you saw it but I visit him and ride as often as I can." His smile was soft just thinking about the horse and Geralt again ached, thinking about the morning dew, riding with Jaskier around the ring. The soft voice that he used for the horses regardless of who could hear him.

"You’re welcome to come see Roach anytime. Especially if you want to bring Pegasus. My father’s ranch is remote and private. Sometimes we get writers or other people stay for retreats in some of the smaller cabins."

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. Upset, even. He had taken his hands out of his pockets and he was leaning backwards, clutching the window frame. Geralt wondered how much acting he did on a daily basis.

He really hadn’t meant for Geralt to find out about Roach.

"He's really fine. I promise," Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt swallowed his nausea at just how still Jaskier was holding himself. At how Jaskier thought Geralt only inquired after Pegasus because he assumed Jaskier couldn’t take proper care of him.

And that was Geralt’s fault. For listening to rumors. For being colder to Jaskier as the shoot weeks had gone on. The man had sometimes beaten Geralt to the stables in the morning and in return, Geralt had barely spoken to him.

"I have no doubt that he is enjoying your care. As well as you sneaking him too many treats," Geralt joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn't mean to imply that Jaskier wasn't taking proper care of Pegasus. That hadn't been it at all. He was just. He wanted to be near Jaskier. He didn’t want to leave him just yet.

He took his eyes off of Jaskier's and they fell to his long fingers. Even though he was facing Geralt, Jaskier’s fingers were clutching the window lip.

He hadn’t been looking out the window or catching his breath in an empty room.

Jaskier had been trying to get out onto the fire escape.

Of course.

Geralt sighed, he could feel a dull ache behind one of his eyeballs. Perfect. He had already caused Jaskier enough panic for one night and now a headache. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Here is a card for my friend. She’s a fantastic lawyer and if you mention my name, she’ll take you on. She might laugh but she’ll do it. The laughing will mostly be at me,” he added. "You might not need her, of course. But she's the one who helped figure out it was you who got Roach for me."

Jaskier took the card from Geralt's outstretched hand and near cradled it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Do you want help opening the window that you were trying to escape out of?"

There was a spark in his eye that Geralt hadn't seen in months and he was willing to bet he wasn't the only one who missed it.

"Please."

Geralt used one hand to gesture for Jaskier to move out of the way and he did, with almost too much glee. There was a bounce in his step that Geralt was relieved to see. None of the tabloids or entertainment shows could see that when they talked about him.

He carefully examined the large window. The expansive sash was sturdy enough but Geralt was more than a match for its age. He reached up and unlocked the top before heaving under the lip.

It opened without issue.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier gushed. He didn’t even wait for Geralt to move out of the way before climbing into the fire escape. He turned to look back at Geralt. “I really appreciate it.”

Geralt gestured again, this time for Jaskier to step back, further out the window.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked as Geralt had one foot out the window.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I opened the window. Am I not also allowed to climb out of it?"

"I guess." Jaskier looked bewildered. “There’s still a party downstairs.”

"I think you know me well enough to know that it’s not my kind of party.” Geralt enjoyed seeing the flush on Jaskier’s face at the possibility that the two of them might know one another at all. “I'm not letting you fall down the fire escape."

"Just because my upper body strength is lacking doesn't mean I've never climbed down a fire escape before," Jaskier argued even as he made for the ladder.

God, did Geralt want to know that story. He could do nothing but follow Jaskier.

Out of the window, down the fire escape, and to the ground, where Jaskier landed safely with a soft "Oomph."

"Thank you,” he told Geralt again. Then, before he could lose his courage, he added, “It was good to see you again.” He took off down the street, collar popped up around the lower half of his face.

Geralt wanted to call after him, invite him to get a drink, spirit him away before the cameras out front could find him. He imagined them getting the tube together and riding away all while Jaskier huddled closer to him, whether for warmth or so no one recognized him. Geralt fantasized the worst case scenario, with himself stepping in as the hero for Jaskier, blocking him from the cameras.

In the end, he watched Jaskier, hunched over himself in a foreboding navy coat, make his way around the corner. And then he went home to the ranch and told Roach all about it.

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

“Just like that?” Priscilla asked, graciously not mentioning the fact that Jaskier had put on her favorite sweatpants or that he had heart eyes whilst talking about this mysterious horse guy.

Jaskier shrugged, swirling a wine glass with one hand. “Just like that. I’ve gotten a new agent. A new lawyer seems like a good place to start.”

“And you trust him?” Priscilla held up the card. “He couldn’t afford a horse and yet has a friend who works here?”

“She’s how he found out I bought the horse for him.”

“Your funeral.”

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

"Geralt von Rivia," Yennefer's voice came through his phone. Geralt winced and so did Eskel even though he was near three meters away. Yennefer only used their full names when they were in trouble. "Did you give some twink my number?"

"Can you help him?"

"Yes, I believe I can. i just wanted to check his story."

"He bought Roach for me."

"Yes, the mystery-horse buyer. I remember." Yennefer's quiet voice used to grate on Geralt. He never knew what it meant. He used to think he was a fool but as their relationship developed, he realized that Yennefer's version of caring contained a lot of frighteningly quiet determination.

"I wasn't supposed to find out, apparently."

Geralt wasn't grumpy about the situation.

He wasn't.

He just wished that everything was different. That was all.

"Well, he didn't anticipate you having me for a lawyer." Yennefer paused and Geralt heard some paper rustling in the background. "Did you know about all this? His situation, I mean.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” Geralt didn't mention that he had been reading Lambert's discarded tabloids and doing some googling of his own.

“Rumors of the situation or the rumors being spread about him on set?”

“The latter,” Geralt mumbled, embarrassed. "Both, I suppose. Lambert reads the tabloids. So does Aiden."

“No wonder he talked himself in circles about you. His friend had to stop him twice from rambling on.”

Geralt wanted to ask about that but he knew Yennefer wouldn't answer. Or couldn't, with a confidentiality clause.

“Can you fix it?”

She scoffed. “Of course I can. It’ll be a bit messy but luckily, this isn’t the only lawsuit against this guy. Tons of evidence and witnesses too. He managed to get a new agent who hasn't been doing half bad of a job. Don't worry, Geralt. I'll protect him.”

"Marx?"

"Yes. It's not the first time he's done this either." Then, softer. "I'll help him, Geralt. I promise."

"Thank you."

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

“Jaskier!” One of the farmer’s son sprinted up to him, coming to a stop once he reached the stables. Jaskier had just gotten himself onto Pegasus for the day. “We had a man come round asking about you yesterday. Dad wanted you to know.”

“Here?” Jaskier dismounted quickly and looked around the farm to the tree line, expecting the press to come racing at him after the teen. "Take a breath, Matthew."

Matthew and the rest of his family had been nothing but kind to Jaskier since he had started boarding Pegasus at their farm. He hated to think they were being harassed by some reporters.

“One of those newspaper people. Had a camera and everything.”

Jaskier's heart sank but Matthew shook his head.

“Posh twat!” One of the farmhands yelled from the loft. “We ran him out!”

Jaskier didn’t bothering covering his mouth as he laughed along with Matthew. “He didn’t cause any trouble?” He asked earnestly.

“We said that we’d never heard of you," Matthew said proudly.

“Thank you so much.” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against Pegasus. He gave the horse a kiss and nodded to Matthew again. The boy, realizing just how close he and Jaskier were standing, blushed a bit before racing off.

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

It had taken Geralt a long time in his life to learn never to doubt Yennefer but it was a lesson that had stuck.

In keeping up with the news about Jaskier, Geralt had learned a lot about him. To the point where, when Jaskier’s best friend, Priscilla, was interviewed on the red carpet of her latest premiere and asked about the missing man, Geralt knew exactly who she was. It also meant that Geralt could properly appreciate her viciously telling the interviewer to fuck off.

Jaskier still hadn't worked on a film in weeks but Yennefer assured him it was for the best and that Jaskier was doing fine. Laying low was a part of the plan.

The successful plan as it so happened.

Lambert slapped the newspaper down on the breakfast table. Geralt and Eskel both jumped back.

"The guy who saved Roach has been saved!" He crowed triumphantly, dodging a spoon thrown by Geralt.

"Jaskier?” Eskel asked. “The trial went off all right?”

Lambert nodded towards the paper. “It says Marx was found guilty. So Jaskier and the other people he talked about are in the clear with any luck. Have you talked to him?"

"What?" Geralt looked up from the front page. Jaskier looked good in most outfits, of course, but the official black suit for court did nothing but match him to Yennefer, who was barely in the photograph, as the newspaper had tried so hard to cut her out.

"I know it says he won the case but he looks here miserable, mate.”

"Tabloid photos aren't real indicators of a person's well-being," Geralt said stiffly. Even though Lambert was right. Geralt kept picturing the animated Jaskier that he had been privileged to see for a whole thirty seconds at the premiere party.

"You texted him though, right?"

Geralt hummed. "Yennefer's helping him out."

Eskel and Lambert responded at the same time.

"That's not an answer to his question."

"That's not an answer to my question."

Sometimes Geralt really hated his brothers.

"You gave him Yennefer's name?" Eskel urged on.

“Must have,” Lambert commented, tapping on the partial shot of Yennefer buried under headline text.

"Her card." Geralt also remembered Jaskier's uncomfortable body language at the party. Curled in on himself, not meeting anyone's eyes and when he did, he looked right past them. Sometimes when Geralt closed his eyes he saw Jaskier's white knuckles against the windowpane, desperate to make an escape. Geralt provided that. He gave that to him. And Yennefer's information. "He seemed like he just needed someone in his corner."

"And now?"

"He's Yennefer's client right now. They're not friends. Yet,” he added. “Knowing Yennefer, it will depend on if she likes him or not."

Lambert turned back towards his breakfast but Eskel still had a knowing eye on his brother.

“Looks like it’s all wrapped up. He’s not her client anymore.”

"I don't have his number." Geralt admitted, just barely audible. “I never did.”

Eskel reached over and tapped on the screen of Geralt’s phone. "I bet Yennefer does."

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

Geralt: Do you have Jaskier's number? Yennefer: Finally. Yennefer: I can't give it to you. Yennefer: But I can give your information to him. Geralt: Thank you. Yennefer: He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

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

Yennefer: 033 0058 0058 Jaskier: What's that? Yennefer: Geralt's number.

Jaskier sighed and touched his thumb to Yennefer's name.

"You're calling the wrong number," she told him in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't know him," Jaskier argued. "We were never supposed to see each other again."

"I expect a gift basket after the wedding then."

"Shall I expect one for you and Priscilla?" Jaskier asked coolly. Thankfully, Yennefer laughed and he managed to keep going. "He didn't want to talk to me when we had to spend near every day together. I don't think I can manage a phone conversation if it's just me." He wasn't worried about being too honest. Not with Yennefer, not after the trial.

He'd woken up plenty of times in Priscilla's flat after an emotional night to Yennefer at the door with breakfast for all three of them.

Yennefer hummed and in a way, she sounded almost like Geralt. "You're right. Can I make another suggestion?"

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

Yennefer: Are you home today? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: All day? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: Good. Stay there. Yennefer: Or outside. By the driveway. Geralt: Why? Yennefer: Trust me, Geralt. It's a lovely day. Yennefer: Just enjoy yourself.

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

Geralt stuffed his phone back in his pocket and asked Roach, “What do you think?”

Roach just looked at him which was fair but Geralt’s heart started to race with the anticipation.

He couldn’t be sure of what was coming but he hoped. He left the stables and headed for the house. Sitting on the porch did nothing for Geralt’s nerves so instead he found himself standing in front of it.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by but still Geralt found himself picking the paint off of the porch railing.

An unfamiliar engine caught Geralt’s ear and he turned towards the front drive.

Then, there he was.

Jaskier.

In a shoddy little truck with faded red paint that was nearing pink. It looked as though perhaps Vesemir was only one old enough to have purchased it as new. He was towing a trailer behind him and Geralt would be willing to bet that he knew who was in there.

He also clearly didn’t know where to park. No doubt Yennefer had given him an address only. Geralt didn’t bother to hold back his enthusiasm, waving Jaskier towards the neat line of vehicles by the stables.

Geralt wondered if it would be too much to open the door for him but he remembered Yennefer’s words.

He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

Geralt could do gentle. He’d soothed plenty a horse in his time. So he hung back, just giving Jaskier what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he opened the car door himself.

"Um. Hello," Jaskier said shyly, a little nod of his head. With his priorities in place, he was already headed around to the trailer door. Geralt knew he was going to let Pegasus out but he couldn't help but feel as though Jaskier was trying to avoid contact with him at the same time.

He remembered how Jaskier needed to do something with his hands even on a good day, whether that was the infuriating clicking of the pen he used to make notes on his script or the constant twisting of Pegasus' leather reins around his fingers.

Geralt liked to think that this would be a good day but he knew how much courage it took for Jaskier to drive here with his horse.

Jaskier gave Pegasus a happy smile and guided him out of the trailer. It wasn't until the horse was solidly on the grass that Jaskier met Geralt's eyes again. Geralt could see that it wasn't just shyness. It was nerves.

Jaskier was biting at his lip and playing with the leather of the reins just like he had those mornings on set. "I wasn’t sure if the offer to visit was still there. Yennefer said—

"Yennefer was right," Geralt said quickly, beating Jaskier to the trailer door. He latched it shut, staring unblinkingly at Jaskier.

"Did Yennefer tell you to say that?"

“In my experience, it’s usually true,” Geralt joked. He took a step forward. "I'm...glad you're here."

"Oh. Oh, good," Jaskier sounded so relieved that Geralt wanted to convince him to stay forever. To gain confidence as Geralt did around his brothers, to be fed delicious meals by his father, and most importantly, to find peace with Geralt.

"I'm not...I'm not great over the phone anyway,” Geralt offered.

"I thought that might be the case,” Jaskier admitted honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I could stand to carry a whole conversation. Yennefer thought it would be easier for us just to..."

"Be together in person?"

"Well, I was going to say be with the horses. So we both have something to focus on if we need it." Jaskier lovingly stroked Pegasus and the horse nuzzled at him. Geralt had seen the same scene dozens of times over but that had been on set. Seeing it again here, on his family’s ranch was almost too good to be true.

"That works too." Geralt paused a moment and then urged Jaskier to follow him. “Come out to the barn. She’ll be excited to see you.”

Jaskier walked Pegasus through the stables. He let out the sweetest sigh upon seeing Roach again and Geralt never wanted Jaskier to leave the ranch again.

"Oh, hello, darling," Jaskier said quietly. Geralt took Pegasus' reins and Jaskier used his free hands to rub at Roach's nose. She leaned into the petting and Geralt wished he could take a photograph.

“I was a twat,” Geralt told him while Jaskier was distracted by a beautiful horse. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked down and shrugged. “I’m sure you see all sorts on film sets. I can’t even imagine.”

“I bet you can.” Geralt stroked Pegasus. He unlatched Roach’s stall and gestured for Jaskier to lead her out. “You weren’t any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t know if you remember but you…you yelled at Marx one day. He was crowding me in the stable and Roach picked up on my mood and became irritated with him. You told him off.” Jaskier told all this to Roach and Geralt did him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

Geralt didn’t remember though. He had chased away dozens of actors from horses over the years. It didn’t surprise him that Marx had been one of them.

“I’m glad she was there to protect you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I won’t say that it’s all right,” Jaskier said, with more strength than he looked. He swallowed and finally turned to Geralt. “It’s been…a long few weeks. Months, really. But we’re here now and—“

Roach nudged him again and he let out a little laugh. Some of the tension leaving him.

Roach nuzzled closer and Jaskier could tell she was eager to get out of her stall. “Yes, darling. I brought your old friend to come see you. I thought perhaps--" He looked at Geralt. "I thought perhaps we could go for a ride together? If you'd like."

"I'd love that," Geralt croaked, wondering how Jaskier could still be so brave after all this. That he was here and talking and asking Geralt to spend time with him. "Let me tack him up for you?" He asked, hand on Pegasus' flank.

Jaskier's brow furrowed. "I can do it."

"I know that you can. I want to do to it,” Geralt stressed. "Please," he added.

"Let's swap," Jaskier said, still lovingly petting Roach. "I haven't seen this girl in a while. It'll be nice."

"All right," Geralt agreed. He could see what Jaskier was doing.

It wasn't about a penance. Jaskier wanted them on some kind of equal footing. That was fair, Geralt supposed. Even though as of that specific moment, Geralt wanted to give Jaskier the world.

"Are you all right now?" Geralt asked, hesitating in a way that he hoped made an answer not necessary if Jaskier didn’t want to respond.

"Well, I don't know about 'all right,'" Jaskier huffed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. "Yennefer certainly settled some things. I'm not sure I'll be acting anytime soon. Or um, answering my phone calls. I've actually changed my number again. Remind me to give it to you."

"I'd like that." Geralt didn't mention that he never had Jaskier's number in the first place.

"It's not the press," he assured Geralt. "Just a lot of people trying to apologize or offering to support me. I'm talking to the same few who always believed me before everything, you know? Mostly just Priscilla and Yennefer right now."

Geralt didn't know. He was one of the people who...well, he's not sure that he believed the rumors. He wasn't someone to go around sets making friends regardless. But he had certainly heard the gossip, listened to it even.

He liked to think he made up for some of that but in actuality, Geralt knew it didn't matter. He'll always wish he had behaved differently when he first met Jaskier. He could have maybe had Jaskier in his life for so much longer. Could have supported him better during this shit time instead of just handing over Yennefer's card and begging her to take the case.

Geralt's mind was full of questions that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answers either. What was Jaskier going to do now? Geralt knew that one was selfish because he so wanted the answer to include him.

They worked in silence to get the horses ready but it wasn’t a silence that Geralt minded. Especially not when it was broken every moments by Jaskier giggling whenever Roach tried to interrupt his actions. He watched Jaskier get up onto Pegasus before following on Roach.

“You could always keep Pegasus—“

"I was thinking maybe I could board Pegasus here? If you've got the room—"

"Yes!" Geralt said immediately, cutting off what he had started saying as well as Jaskier's nervous rant. He didn't want Jaskier to be unsure of himself ever again. Not where Geralt was concerned. "You could come by whenever you'd like. Hopefully...often," he let himself say, voice growing stronger as the sentence went on.

"Yeah?" Jaskier asked. Geralt couldn't look away from how his teeth trapped his bottom lip between them. He was grateful that they were both on horses, otherwise Geralt wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking his thumb and slipping the abused lip to safety.  "I don't live too far away. I hadn’t realized.”

Geralt swallowed. He met Jaskier’s big blue eyes and knew his own were rounded in vulnerability. “Please."

Jaskier finally, finally, smiled at him in such a way that Geralt felt his chest loosen. Jaskier nodded and Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest again. He grinned back at Jaskier and felt something swirl around them.

“Stay for dinner? My brothers would love to meet you. My father too.” Geralt was horrified at himself. He hadn’t rambled on like this in years. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself, not when Jaskier was giggling and trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth. “My brother Eskel’s horse is the one I’m planning to pair Roach with but I’m making him grovel for it if you’d like to help.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaskier laughed openly at him. Geralt didn’t mind one bit. “I’d love to stay, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Jaskier as they mounted. It seemed Jaskier didn’t mind, snorting each time he caught his former horse master. And then he did the same, with Geralt trying not to preen too much in response.

Jaskier told him about Priscilla and Yennefer meeting and how he couldn’t go to dinner with the two of them alone again, Geralt, please.

Geralt explained how the farm worked and how much he disliked being on set away from his brothers, even when the money was good. How mercilessly they had teased him about Jaskier when he had returned.

They rode through the ranch, to Eskel’s farm, and Geralt found that both of them were becoming freer with their laughs by each trot.

The two of them had a strange beginning and a tumultuous middle but perhaps, if Geralt and Jaskier worked for it, they could have a lovely end.

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

ao3 link here

[subterfugespecialist]

I Will Break What Has Broken You

Janus is the heir of a millionaire CEO. He could have anything, anybody he wanted. And he picked Remus. Remus couldn't be happier with what they have. But when they're out one night and Remus runs into his ex, all the unpleasant memories start flooding back.

Written for Day 4 of @dukeceitweek : Free day

AO3 link

Pairing: Dukeceit

Warnings: Past verbal/emotional abuse, deadnaming - though the deadname is not actually typed out, unwanted advances

Word count: 2861

People were usually surprised to hear that Janus was dating Remus.

Janus - the son of old money, an heir to a multi-million dollar business - could have anything and anyone he wanted. All sorts of people threw themselves at his feet, desperate for both his sharp looks and good fortunes.

But Janus didn't want anybody. He wanted Remus. And that sure made Remus feel special.

Janus had been wary about dating. So many people had been after his family's money, after all. But then he met Remus, who didn't care that Janus could afford to buy the movie theater and still insisted their first date be sneaking into as many movies as possible because it was "more fun that way." He didn't care what kind of car Janus drove as long as Remus could drag Janus into the backseat. Who didn't care how many houses Janus owned, as long as they were together. Remus, who looked past his money and liked Janus for his catty, smart personality.

And Janus was utterly taken.

But sure, Janus having money certainly had its perks. Janus would indulge on any random impulse Remus had. Wanted to drop everything and go on a trip without anyone? Janus would treat him to a private jet (Remus was pretty sure they were the top members of the mile-high club at that point). Had the urge to rent a room in the fanciest hotel in Paris just to smoke weed? Sure. Paying for Remus' top surgery? Remus didn't even have to ask for that one. Janus making his birthday present to Roman paying off his entire student loans for his musical theatre degree? Remus was just smitten.

But one of the best parts was getting to be Janus' plus one at parties, where he'd wear his torn up pants with a hole showing his entire thigh and a neon green mesh shirt under his leather jacket. Security guards would try to escort him out before Janus would take him by the hand and kiss his forehead. He would introduce guests to Remus as his boyfriend and they would always do a double-take. Because that must be some sort of joke, right? Janus dating this man? But Janus would take Remus firmly by the waist and glare at them, daring them to actually say anything. And they would put on their pained smiles and complete their pleasantries before rushing off.

They couldn't be happier.

Tonight they were in a sort of underground club in New York. The music was so loud you could hardly hear yourself speak, and most people there this late in the night were too intoxicated to be coherent.

It was one of Remus' favorite places.

Remus was dancing with Janus, which mostly meant Remus dancing as Janus held onto him, occasionally spinning him around or pulling him close. But Remus didn't mind. How could he when Janus would watch him with such eyes, that made Remus feel so wanted?

Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket and scowled at the glowing screen as he pulled Remus close to him.

"I'm afraid I have to take this, darling," he said right against Remus' ear. "I'll have to step outside for a moment."

"That's fine," Remus yelled back. "I'll meet you at the bar, babes."

Janus pulled Remus into a searing kiss that would usually be considered too heat to be appropriate for public spaces, but with all the couples dirty dancing against each other around them it hardly mattered.

"I'll be back soon" Janus promised before slipping away into the crowd. Remus stood, smiling like a fool for a moment before heading towards the bar. The music was slightly quieter here, and Remus could actually hear himself think.

He hopped onto a barstool, spinning once before glancing at the drinks menu. Then someone sat beside him.

"I'm really not surprised to see you here."

Remus froze as his blood turned to ice. He had to force himself to look to see that, yes, it was him sitting on the barstool.

"I would have thought Janus would be with you," Remus' ex said as he sipped his drink. "I'm surprised he trusted his little plaything to go out on his own."

"How the fuck do you know about me and Janus?" Remus asked, hands gripping the edge of his barstool and making his knuckles go white. "Have you been stalking me like a creep? Just couldn't let me go, Aiden?"

"Baby, the whole business world has been talking about it," Aiden said with a smirk, unaware, or perfectly aware, of how the old nickname made bile rise in Remus throat, "It's some of the best gossip right now. Though I personally thought Janus was above spending his time on such things."

"It's so funny that you think you know Janus," Remus said with a grin that was far too wide. "You don't know shit about him."

"I've worked with him before, babe," Aiden said. "He is much too dedicated to his work to bother with someone like you."

Remus' blood was boiling, and he couldn't figure out why. He never cared before what people thought of him. He usually liked surprising people with Janus. So why did it hurt when Aiden said it?

Was it because they used to be together? Was it because Remus used to try so desperately to get the approval of his partner, but never seemed to obtain it? And it seems like he still hadn't.

"That's a nice skirt you're wearing," Aiden said, breaking Remus from his thoughts and making him realize he hadn't said anything for a good minute, "I thought you'd avoid those, given your... situation."

Remus had finally reached a point where he felt comfortable in a skirt, even after all the things Aiden said to him. But now he just felt exposed. It felt so good, when Janus rested a hand on his knee when they sat or gripped the back of his bare thigh as they pulled each other close. But now, all he wanted was to close his legs and pull the edge of his skirt over his knees.

"I like wearing skirts," Remus defended, though he didn't know how effective he was with the tremor in his voice.

How could Aiden keep making him feel worse? Digging deep into old wounds, breaking newly healed scars. Remus took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let Aiden ruin all of his progress after they had been apart for nearly two years.

"Well then," Aiden said in a voice that instantly made Remus worried. He then placed his hand on Remus' knee and he was very much not Janus and Remus suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. "Since Janus isn't here, how about we relive some old times, huh ******?"

Hearing his dead name immediately made Remus feel like the floor was taken from under him. He stood without another word and forced his way through the dense crowd on the dance floor. The bright lights and loud music were suddenly too much and Remus couldn't breath his chest wouldn't move he was suffocating-

He finally reached the emergency fire exit, which he knew the alarm didn't work because he had seen couples use it to sneak out for quickies. Once outside he immediately fell to his knees, hands resting on the asphalt, struggling to breath as the door shut behind him. He managed to crawl over to sit against the wall through short gasps of hair. Remus held his head in his hands and gripped his hair tight. Memories were flooding back - none of them pleasant.

His chest was too heavy. He couldn't get his lungs to work right he couldn't get air he was going to pass out right here in the alleyway-

"Remus!"

Janus.

"Oh, darling, it's okay," Janus said, panicked as he sat across from his boyfriend. He opened his arms and Remus immediately flung himself against him, gripping tightly to the back of Janus' jacket like a life line.

"Follow my breathing, love," Janus said softly into Remus' ear, chest pressed against the other making it easier for Remus to follow.

Remus focused on the feeling of Janus against him, around him. Janus' chest moving against his own, his voice and breath against his ear. Janus, Janus, Janus-

"There you go," Janus said softly as he pulled back just enough to look at Remus' face. Remus closed his eyes, focusing on Janus' hands resting on his cheeks, thumbs moving in soothing motions. "You did wonderfully."

"How'd you find me so fast?" Remus asked, "Knew I'd be out with trash, where I belong?" he forced out a laugh though tears fell down his face.

"Remus," Janus scolded.

"Sorry, sorry. No self deprecating, I know."

Though it had been a tough habit for Remus to break.

"You aren't trash," Janus muttered as he pushed Remus' hair out of his face. "You know I only indulge myself in the nicest things."

"How can you say that?" Remus muttered, glancing down to avoid Janus' gaze. "I'm far from nice."

"You are by far the most valuable, precious thing in my life," Janus said firmly as his hand moved to Remus' chin to force him to look in his eyes. "And I won't stand for you saying such things about yourself."

"You could have anything," Remus said, mouth quivering as tears fell freely down his face. "And yet you waste your time on me?"

"My time is never wasted with you. I'd give away all my fortune and luxuries that come with it if it meant spending just one more day with you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and all your craziness and curiosities. You are the most incredible person I've ever met and you only ever make me happier than I've ever been."

Janus wiped the tears off Remus' face, and no more followed.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "And you are deserving of everything good thing in this world"

"You sap," Remus said as he lightly punched Janus' arm, tears threatening to spill again - but not from sadness, "I love you, too."

"Are you feeling okay, my love?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Sorry about that freakout."

"You don't have to apologize," Janus said as he ran his hand back over Remus cheek and pressed their foreheads together, "But who did that to you? push such unfounded doubts in your head? Because I do have to find them now, and ruin their life."

Remus groaned and leaned back, hitting the brick wall behind him. "Do you remember, a couple months after we started dating, I had that freakout and thought we needed to break up?"

"Yes," Janus said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "You had the insane idea that you weren't good enough, and I made sure you knew that was not true. You're not feeling like that again, are you?"

"No. Well, I was, but- Okay so remember how I admitted that was because of my ex? Well, he's here. He talked to me."

Janus' expression quickly turned into one of fury, eyes turning dark as his mouth set into a scowl.

"He called me your plaything. Said he worked with you and that he knew you were too good for me. Then he touched me and said my dead name and came onto me and that made me feel so gross because he wasn't you and all these shitty feelings came back and just. Yeah. It was fucked up."

"Give me his name," Janus nearly growled. "I'll make sure he regrets every decision he ever made."

"Aiden Scott."

"Scott, Scott..." Janus muttered to himself, pondering for a moment before his eyes widened.

"Aiden Scott? He said- Working? With me? oh dear," Janus laughed as he stood, hand outstretched for Remus to take. "Come on, my darling," Janus said with a large smirk. "We have some things we need to straighten out."

Remus let Janus pull him up, but the thought of going to see Aiden again was making him feel sick. His nerves were dampened, however, by the strong grip Janus had around his waist as Remus led him over to the bar.

"Aiden Scott," Janus announced. When Aiden looked over his face paled as he glanced between them, "What a chance, seeing you here."

"Hello, Janus, sir," Aiden managed to say as he stood, outstretching a hand for Janus to shake. Janus glanced at it before looking back up and pulling Remus closer to his side.

"I heard what you said to Remus," Janus said, leaning against the bar and examining his manicure. "And I can't tolerate such things, Aiden."

"Oh, that?" Aiden let out a forced laugh to accompany the anxious smile on his face, "I was just messing with him. Like we used to, right?" Aiden cast Remus a desperate look, and Remus couldn't believe the absolute gall of this douchebag.

"Cut the bullshit," Janus snapped, saving Remus from having to say something, "You knew you shouldn't and yet you still had the nerve to speak to him that way, and you had the audacity to claim you knew me. Please. You had the privilege of standing in the same room as me. I would say you're nothing but an over-glorified secretary, but I actually like my secretary. It would be an insult to her hard work."

"Sir, I'm sorry. I just-"

"I don't care about your apology. Do you accept his apology, darling?" Janus asked, casting Remus a soft look.

"Nah."

Janus' soft look fell as he turned his attention back to Aiden, and Remus probably found the immediate shift in tone hotter than he should've - but he really didn't care.

"I could easily have you fired. I could make sure you never find another job with any of our companies ever again."

"No, sir, please, I-"

"But I don't think I will," Janus said, surprising both Remus and Aiden. "I want to keep my eye on you. I want to make sure you don't take a single step out of line again. You can keep your lowly job in the office, right where I can keep careful watch.

"I don't want you here at this club again. I don't want you anywhere in the near vicinity of Remus. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away."

"Yes, sir. Of course. Thank-"

"Get out."

"You won't regret not firing me, sir. I'll-"

"Get out."

Remus let out a loud cackle at the way Aiden turned and ran towards the front door, stumbling over his feet through the crowd. Remus was flooded with relief from the promise that that asshole would never bother him again.

He looked over to Janus, who was still wearing that stone-angry look on his face as he straightened his hat, gaze following Aiden to make sure he actually left. Janus then turned to look at Remus, and his face changed back into one of reverence and comfort. Remus was filled with such overwhelming emotions he had no control over his body as he grabbed Janus' hands and pulled him towards the back.

Janus let Remus pull in into the single stall bathroom. Remus slammed the door behind them before pulling Janus to him, burying his head into the crook of Janus' neck and holding him tight. Maybe if he squeezed Janus hard enough, he could show him just how much Janus meant to him.

"Hey now, love, it's alright," Janus said, voice much clearer now that the loud music was dulled behind the door.

"No, I'm fine," Remus laughed into his neck, "Fuck, babe, you were incredible."

"Anything for you, my darling," Janus said as he pressed a kiss to the top of Remus' head.

"But why didn't you fire him?" Remus asked as he pulled away to look at Janus' face.

"I figured letting him go would be too easy - over too quickly. Now he gets to deal with me hovering over his shoulder for as long as he can handle it.

"Which won't be long. I'll make him regret everything he ever did to you."

Remus was so overwhelmed with love for the man in front of him - a man who actually loved him for who he was - that he couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around Janus' neck and dragging him down into a kiss.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Janus leaned away with a light chuckle, but Remus immediately reconnected their mouths.

Janus placed one hand securely on the back of Remus' neck, the other cupping his cheek. Remus leaned back into the hand, tilting his head up and letting Janus deepen the kiss. He let himself go pliant under Janus' lips, Janus' grasp. He was completely content to give all his trust to this man. After all Janus had done for him, hasn't he deserved it?

Janus pulled away again, and this time Remus let him go.

"Should we go back to the dance floor? You looked so happy there. If you're feeling okay enough, that is."

And with Janus' arm wrapped snugly around him, Remus found that yeah, he was.

.

.

If you are 18+ and have your age/age indicator in your bio, you can message me for the NSFS sequel that takes place directly after

Thanks for reading! Requests are open in my inbox. Hope you enjoyed <3

[everybodyscupoftea]

pursuit of happiness

college rafe x reader

three times rafe is denied and one time he isn’t

this is literally just 3k words of smut

pls let me go back to writing fluff after this, i beg

(warnings: cursing, smut)

Moving in with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce was the best decision you ever made. You’d met Topper freshman year and the two of you continued to hang out after the class you had together ended. He had to endure all your complaints about your roommate and how expensive living alone the next year was going to be because you had no intention of signing another lease with her again.

Then, suddenly, he provided you with an out. The two of you were sitting in the library, sipping on coffee, taking a study break, when he interrupted your latest tirade with, “My buddies and I have an extra bedroom.”

“What?”

“One’s name is Rafe, his dad owns the house so we get to live there rent free. All we have to do is pay utilities. We’ve been looking for a fourth roommate to fill that bedroom, so if you have no issues living with three dudes, the room is yours.”

Which of course you had no fucking qualms about it, so you responded, “God yes, when can I move my stuff?”

He laughed and told you he’d talk to Rafe and Kelce about it and get back to you. Of course, you were slightly worried about living with two guys you’d never met before, but it was an opportunity you felt that you couldn’t pass up. Pushing the worries to the back of your mind, you moved in and that was that.

Kelce was very chill; his room was across from yours and the two of you shared a bathroom. He was your designated drinking buddy, both of you being huge fans of Claws, and there was an entire shelf in the fridge set aside for the two of your’s stock. Kelce also heard all your school breakdowns and swore to keep them to himself. Sometimes he’d even leave a drink outside your door and knock to let you know.

Rafe was very flirty from the jump, and you were adamant you wouldn’t make things messy in the house by hooking up with him. Then, after several months of friendship, he started showing interest in you that went past sex, and well, he was cute. You decided to give him a shot.

It was great. The two of you managed to keep things chill in the house, not letting fights get too out of hand. Plus the separate bedrooms for a degree of separation if necessary. Topper and Kelce’s one thing was that they never wanted to hear two of their closest friends have sex. That was maybe easier said than done because Rafe really liked sex.

Because of that, one finals season, your most intense one yet, led you into a predicament. To be fair, you didn’t really realize what was going on until he finally snapped.

One

Your stats class had been kicking your ass all semester. It was boring and complicated and your test grades had been dropping every test, the last being a 67. After doing the math with your professor, he told you it was still possible to get an A if you managed to get an 88 on the comprehensive final because it would replace your lowest test grade.

You had been ecstatic, but of course, that also meant you had to reteach yourself an entire semester of stats in two weeks for the final. The kitchen was your favorite stats homework place, there wasn’t the distraction of being in your room, you could play your music out loud unlike in the library or a coffee shop, and it was close to the snacks.

The guys mostly stayed out of your way, preoccupied with their own classes and spring training for football, so you got the run of the house. One afternoon, he got home from practice to see you sitting at the bar in the kitchen, chewing aimlessly at a highlighter while reading about z-scores.

Lately, both of you had been pretty busy, and the two of you hadn’t had sex in at least a week. Rafe really missed you, and watching you biting at the highlighter had him feeling some sort of way. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face as you took it out of your mouth to highlight some important formulas.

Replacing the highlighter with your bottom lip, you started working on it instead. He gulped and quickly fixed a glass of water to drink while waiting for you to speak to him. You could feel him watching you, but there were two practice problems at the end of the section you wanted to try before taking a quick study break to greet him.

Pulling your notebook across the counter to start working them out, you let go of your lip and subconsciously poked your tongue out a little. Rafe knew it was your focus face, and normally it didn’t do anything to him, but he knew exactly what that mouth was capable of and he missed it.

With a sigh, you pushed the notebook away after checking the answers and set a ten-minute break timer on your phone. Finally smiling at Rafe, you held your arms out for him to come give you a hug. He squeezed you tight and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “How’s the studying going, babe?”

“It’s going. I’m about halfway through the semester material, so just gotta keep moving along. It is getting easier to understand and I’m getting the practice problems right more often than not, so that’s good I guess.”

Rafe brushed some hair out of your face, “Told you that you could do it.”

You smiled, “Yeah, should’ve just put some effort in the first time around. Hindsight.”

Without realizing, you’d started biting at your lip again, and before he could stop it, Rafe brought his hand up and tugged it until you let it go. Just as you were about to ask what that was about, his lips crashed onto yours.

Letting out a surprised noise, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening and start kissing back. His big hands gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the counter for a better angle as he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered as his hand traced your kneecap a few times, and you put both of your hands in his still damp hair, pulling him even closer. Rafe groaned as you wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed your ankles, keeping him close.

His mouth trailed down your neck, halfheartedly sucking as his hand stroked up and down your leg, getting closer to your core with each one. Your head fell back as he finally traced you over your underwear, and before he could apply any real pressure, your alarm went off, startling both of you.

Ripping away from his lips with a gasp, you placed a hand over your heart in attempt to steady it and dropped your legs from around his waist. Rafe put both of his hands on the counter next to you and dropped his head with a groan, “Please tell me we can keep going.”

You squeezed his shoulder sympathetically, “Afraid not, Cameron. Now go shower, you reek, and maybe after, we can order some dinner and watch TV if I can manage to get through the rest of this chapter.”

He gave a little mock salute with another dramatic sigh before disappearing into his and Topper’s shared bathroom.

Two:

One afternoon, you were sitting on the couch doing some reading for your ethics class when you decided, fuck it, the weather was so nice, it’d be a good tanning day. Rafe was out in the backyard doing a workout, so you’d have company, and you could still do the reading.

You quickly went and changed into your bikini and grabbed a towel and some sunscreen. Rafe looked up from his pushups to see you standing there and smiled at you, “What’s up, baby?”

“Gonna come tan while I read for this final and keep you company.”

He finished up and stood, “I’ll be sure to show off extra.”

You laughed, “I’ll barely be paying attention. Reading, remember?”

Rafe winked, “You say that now.”

With an eyeroll, you sat down and held out the sunscreen, “Get my back.”

He sauntered over as you opened your book back up and picked up where you’d left off. Rafe squatted down, moving your hair out of the way, and started slowly rubbing sunscreen all over your back and shoulders. You groaned at the mini massage and before he could walk away asked, “Babe, can you untie the strings in the back, I don’t want a weird tan line.”

Rafe paused, hesitating, before slowly pulling the strings until the fell to your sides. He cleared his throat, “That it?”

“Yeah, babe, thank you,” you responded, blowing him a kiss, before refocusing on your textbook.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was utterly distracted by you laying there. Your skin practically glowed in the sun and every time he dropped down to the ground during burpees, he got a gratuitous view of side boob. You shifted, your top twisting to where he felt he was dangerously close to seeing nipple and he gulped.

After about 10 minutes, you finished the chapter and decided to roll over for a little break. You tried to get everything back in place and flipped over, pulling the top strings over your head to stop that tan line and shielded your eyes to look at Rafe.

He was already staring at you, or your boobs, at least. You quickly double checked to make sure you weren’t giving all your neighbors’ backyards a show, and then looked at Rafe again when you were sure you weren’t.

“You gonna do some more squats or are you just going to stare at me.”

Rafe shook his head and strode over to you, squatting down next to you, “Can’t focus on proper form when you’re laying over here practically topless.”

You pouted, “Too bad, I was enjoying the show.”

He laughed and bent down over you to give you a kiss, surprised when you linked an arm around his neck to extend it longer than the peck he had planned. Switching from a squat to his knees, Rafe put more pressure into the kiss, and you tugged until he moved over you more, one leg going between yours.

You arched up so his thigh was pressed against you and started slowly grinding. Rafe growled and started slowly rubbing off on your leg. Pulling away from his lips with a gasp, you threw your head back and he picked one hand up to push your bikini top off. One of your hands slid into his hair, tugging in time with his hips.

Just as you were getting close, the back door slammed and you heard Kelce’s exasperated, “Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?”

With a squeal, you grabbed the bikini top and covered your chest while Rafe dropped his head with a loud groan, “Dude, why?”

Kelce gave the two of you an incredulous look, “Maybe because you’re in public. The fence isn’t solid and we have kids living two houses down. Chill the fuck out, you horny bastards.”

Rafe sighed and pulled back, helping you adjust your top back, before asking, “Bedroom?” with a hopeful look on his face.

You shut your eyes, really wanting to, before shaking your head with a sigh of your own, “Can’t. I need to get through these few chapters.”

“Well I need you,” he responded with a pout.

You laughed and patted his shoulder, “Take a cold shower, buddy, maybe next time.”

Three:

It was Wednesday night which meant that it was Rafe’s night to sleep in your room. He’d been giving you some space to read over your study guides, but he was tired and wanted to spend extra time in your presence, so he went to your room fairly early and laid down in bed next to you.

What he wasn’t prepared for was for you to be propped up against the headboard wearing nothing but one of his football t-shirts, that had his name and number on the back, and a pair of panties. Your legs were sprawled way open, giving him a View when he walked in.

Rafe cursed lowly and shut the door, a little harder than necessary, causing you to look up at him in confusion. You asked, “Ready for bed already?”

He shrugged, “Wanted to spend some time with you, you’ve been so busy lately.”

You sighed, “I know, but tomorrow is my last final, so we can hang out after.”

“Hang out,” Rafe mimicked with air quotes before laying down next to you. He pressed his head into your thigh and you took the hint, starting to stroke his hair.

You went back to your reading, trying to focus because it was getting late and you wanted some good sleep before your last 8 a.m. final. After a few minutes of absentmindedly playing with his hair, you felt one of his hands pushing the hem of the shirt up your leg.

Looking over at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at your face, but at your leg as your panties came into view. Rafe reached out to touch the edge of them and you cleared your throat, swatting his hand away, “Cameron, let me finish this.”

Rafe grumbled, “No, you let me finish,” under his breath and you held in a laugh at his dramatic pout.

Going back to your reading, you ignored his pointed sighs and shifting around. When you reached the end of the study guide, you set it to the side and looked at the clock, seeing it was past 10. Rafe sat up eagerly and gently grabbed your arm, but you turned the lamp off and slid under the covers, “I have to sleep, Rafe. Early final tomorrow.”

He actually outright whined, “You’re wearing my shirt, and it’s hot, and I’m horny. Please, for the love of god, let me get off.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, linking pinkies with him in the dark.

“Fine,” he grumbled, settling in next to you with one last huff.

+ One:

Rafe was gone to workouts when you got back from your test and you knew he wouldn’t be back for at least another 30 minutes, so you pulled your shorts off to wait for him, yet again wearing one of his football shirts.

You weren’t waiting for long after texting Rafe to come straight to your room when he got home. He burst through the door, still sweating a little and you wrinkled your nose, “Why do you never fucking shower in the locker room?” He opened his mouth to answer and you sighed, “You know what, never mind. Just come over here.”

Barely taking the time to close the door, Rafe came over, putting both of his hands on the bed and leaning down to kiss you. Dropping to his knees, Rafe started kissing down your neck and wasted no time in pushing the shirt up and tugging your panties to the side.

He stroked through your folds a few times before bending down and licking where his fingers just were. Nudging your clit with his nose, Rafe teased your entrance with his tongue and you grabbed onto his hair with a gasp.

Rafe dipped his tongue in briefly before going back to teasing you, throwing your legs over his shoulder when you tried to clamp your thighs around his head. He took his time, inserting one finger while holding you still with his other hand.

You leaned back, resting your weight on one hand behind you, the other still clinging to his hair. When he got to three fingers, he nudged your clit one more time with his nose before pulling away completely, and you cried out, trying to pull him back with your legs still around his shoulders.

“Patience, baby,” he told you, stripping completely and getting a condom. He sat on the bed and motioned for you to climb onto his lap. With shaky legs, you crawled over to where he was sitting up, against the headboard, and sank down onto him.

He exhaled shakily, hands going up to your shoulders to trace the letters of his name, and you took it as encouragement to lift up a little before sinking back down. With a groan, he leaned forward and started nipping at your neck, carelessly sucking a mark onto your collarbone.

One of his hands gripped your hip as you leaned forward so your chests were brushing and you sped up a little. Rafe groaned, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple and he pushed you back a little, stripping the shirt off fully before pulling you back to press your bare chest to his.

You were getting close, movements sloppier, and Rafe took initiative, trying to help you by thrusting his hips up in time with you. Dropping a hand, you started rubbing your clit, and Rafe snapped his hips one last time before coming, groaning loudly into the empty room.

With one last whine, you came, seconds after him, slumping forward into his chest while you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed your back gently as the two of you recovered and you smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone, “There, was that what you wanted?”

Rafe laughed, “Yes, thank you, sweetheart.”

Climbing off his lap, you motioned toward the door, “Good, now you can go shower because for real, you reek. Please use the showers in the locker room, I’m sure some of my tuition money funds those facilities.”

He stood up and held a hand out to you, “Share a shower?”

You stared at his hand for a few seconds, pretending to debate, and he huffed before reaching down to lift you off the bed. With a squeal, you told him, “Put me down, you can’t just manhandle me.”

Rafe laughed and carried you to the bathroom, “Come on, baby, you know you love showering with me.”

“Only because it’s good for the environment.”

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】  Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-4 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16

North District

Ji Xiaoyu and older sister Ji Xiaoqing originally lived in a two-bedroom apartment in the north district, left by their parents.

After that apartment was forcibly seized by the loan company, the sisters started to rent an apartment.

Xia Yan and I came to the place that Ji Xiaoyu was now renting, according to the address Sphinx gave. However, we waited for a long time, during which Ji Xiaoyu never showed up.

Xia Yan: According to Sphinx, Ji Xiaoyu took on three to four part-time jobs at the same time after Qian Yi’s death.

Xia Yan: Within a few months, she took on a severely high workload from morning to night. Typically, she returns home at around 11:30 at night.

Xia Yan: However, she suddenly left all her jobs two days ago.

MC: Could she be engaging a lawyer for a lawsuit? To repurchase her parents’ real estate?

MC: She’s saved enough money now and needs to focus on the case, so she left her jobs?

Xia Yan: Possibly.

MC: Then I could probably provide her legal assistance to talk to her, right? Perhaps she’ll be more willing to communicate with us then.

Xia Yan: Okay. I’ll say that I received a commission to investigate the Bedo Loan Company trap loan issue, and that I’m preparing to help my client file for a civil compensation lawsuit.

Xia Yan: If she wants to file for a civil lawsuit, she’ll probably be willing to talk to us.

Xia Yan and I were in the middle of talking when we heard faraway footsteps – it just happened to be Ji Xiaoyu.

In the video Xia Yan and I had seen in the afternoon, Ji Xiaoyu’s condition could be called “haggard” or “fragile”.

But now… she was basically skin and bones, surrounded by an air as heavy as death, and her face was completely frozen.

--

START INSPECTION

⊳ Box and leaflet

MC: (A casket and a cemetery leaflet…)

MC: (So she worked hard to accumulate money to buy a place in the cemetery for her sister?)

MC: (The casket looks newly bought. She’s probably selected a place at the cemetery and is preparing to bury it…)

 What are the injuries on her right wrist?

⊳ Wrist slit injuries ⊳ Scrapes

MC: (Injuries layered on top of each other… she must have attempted suicide many times.)

MC: (Though they look like old injuries, she really doesn’t look like she’s come around…)

 ⊳ Clothes

MC: (Her clothes are splitting at the seams, yet there was no attempt to fix them… it looks like she doesn’t care about herself.)

 ⊳ Eyes

MC: (Such severe dark circles. She must not have slept in a long time…)

--

MC: (Ji Xiaoyu’s condition does not look good at all. I should carefully observe some more and think cautiously first.)

 END INSPECTION

MC: Xia Yan, Ji Xiaoyu…

Xia Yan: Mhmm, I know. We have to find out what’s going on with her as soon as possible.

Xia Yan and I walked towards Ji Xiaoyu. However, she walked past us expressionlessly, without even giving us a single glance, as if we did not exist.

We could only double back a few steps and block her with outstretched hands.

Xia Yan: Hello, you must be Miss Ji Xiaoyu?

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Xia Yan: I am a private detective who’s received a commission to investigate the case of Bedo Loan Company’s trap loans.

Xia Yan: This case will open trial soon. My client plans to collect evidence to file for civil litigation.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, may I ask you a few questions?

Xia Yan: With your clues, I might be able to find a few new investigative directions.

MC: Miss Ji, I am Lawyer MC.

MC: If needed, I can provide legal assistance for you and help you file for a civil compensation lawsuit.

Xia Yan and I handed her our own namecards, but Ji Xiaoyu did not take them.

She searched up the employers indicated on Xia Yan’s and my namecards, only stopping when she saw news that involved my legal defense.

She lifted those lifeless eyes slightly.

Ji Xiaoyu: What do you want to know? Do you want me to serve as a witness or write a testimony?

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m fine with it all. Only… my sister will be buried within a few days. Please do not give me trouble during this time.

MC: Understood, we will be careful.

Xia Yan: My apologies, Miss Ji, but we have a request right now.

Xia Yan: Can we speak with you about the progression of events for this matter? Of course… I understand that this will make you remember unhappy matters.

Ji Xiaoyu’s expression remained as numb as ever. Only her lips pursed slightly.

Ji Xiaoyu: … Come with me.

--

Ji Xiaoyu’s Residence

We followed Ji Xiaoyu into the place she was now renting.

That was a room of a mere ten square meters. The room was filled with a musty smell, as if no air had circulated here in a long time.

Miscellaneous items were piled in the corner of the room. Only the two boxes of corrugated cardboard near the door were uniquely neat and tidy.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m guessing that you wanted to ask why I ended up in that trap loan?

Xia Yan: We do have some questions about that.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because I wanted to buy something, but was short by two thousand dollars.

Ji Xiaoyu did not wait for us to continue asking and began to speak.

Her tone as she spoke was completely emotionless and smooth, as familiar and indifferent as if she had repeated it many times.

Ji Xiaoyu: I feared being criticized by my classmates if I bought something so expensive suddenly, so I did not borrow from them.

Ji Xiaoyu: Back then, I thought that I would be able to repay it the month after, when I received my wages.

Ji Xiaoyu: I never thought that I would end up trapped.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because I could not pay back the money, they said that if I agreed to take a nude photograph, they would extend the time I had. Otherwise, they would tell my sister and school immediately.

Ji Xiaoyu: Foolishly, I took the photos.

Ji Xiaoyu: So after, I was even more scared of telling my sister, and I didn’t dare call the police. And for my reputation, my sister could only bear the humiliation and not call the police.

She narrated until the end, a heavy self-mocking gradually settling itself into her voice.

MC: (Miss Ji…)

Ji Xiaoyu: What else do you want to ask?

--

START QUESTIONING

⊳ Qian Yi

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, you once accused Qian Yi and Bedo Loan Company of being related. But the police concluded that evidence was insufficient after investigation.

Xia Yan: What did Qian Yi do during the case?

When this name was brought up, Ji Xiaoyu’s frozen face suddenly distorted as she clenched her fist.

Ji Xiaoyu: He never came to collect debts with that loan company before.

Ji Xiaoyu: He merely kept providing me and my sister’s whereabouts to those people.

MC: Providing your whereabouts?

Ji Xiaoyu: After Bedo Loan Company took away me and my sister’s house, we thought everything was over.

Ji Xiaoyu: But they refused to release us, saying that I still owed them money, pushing me to work at a karaoke bar to return the money.

Ji Xiaoyu: Otherwise, they would reveal that photo to all the people around me and my sister.

MC: …

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister moved houses with me several times to hide, but he kept finding us very quickly.

Xia Yan: After finding you, what did he do?

Ji Xiaoyu let out a strange laugh.

Ji Xiaoyu: Nothing at all.

MC: Nothing at all?

Ji Xiaoyu: He merely appeared near our rental location and smiled at us smugly.

Ji Xiaoyu: After, the scoundrels from the loan company would come to our door.

Ji Xiaoyu: Once, big sister couldn’t bear it anymore and begged him to let us go, but…

--

[Flashback]

Qian Yi: You say that I’m following you and revealing your locations to Bedo Loan Company. Then… “where’s the evidence”?

Qian Yi: Under the clear heavens, all is balanced. You cannot slander others based on nothing.

Qian Yi: I simply just… somehow always manage to run into you. Maybe this is some sort of destiny?

Qian Yi: Then, I just happened to bring you two up with those that I know.

Ji Xiaoqing: Then… what will it take for you to stop bringing us up?

Ji Xiaoqing: You all have already taken all our money—

Qian Yi: Miss Ji, people are also a sort of financial property.

Qian Yi: According to what I know, Miss Ji, you just hopped to a big company with a pretty decent annual salary?

[Flashback end]

--

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister originally wanted to move out of the city, but my student enrollment is within Stellis.

Ji Xiaoyu: Which is why we’ve always stayed here.

Ji Xiaoyu: Bedo Loan Company and Qian Yi were basically two colluding villains.

Ji Xiaoyu: But in the end, the police said that there was no evidence and they could only let him go.

Ji Xiaoyu let out a mocking laugh.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’ve heard people call this “procedural justice”. What is justice, then…

Xia Yan: …

MC: …

 ⊳ Relationship to Qian Yi’s death

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, according to my investigations, you bought a restricted blade the day before Qian Yi’s death.

Xia Yan: That day, you were given a violation ticket from police for carrying prohibited items, and the blade was confiscated.

Xia Yan: After Qian Yi’s death by cardiac arrest, the police also investigated you.

Xia Yan: Back then, a police officer testified for you, saying that he had been keeping an eye on you secretly, and that you did not have the time to commit the crime.

Xia Yan: But if I’ve guessed right, you were following Qian Yi back then, correct?

Ji Xiaoyu: Is how that human scum died that important to you?

MC: It’s like this, Miss Ji. Qian Yi just might be linked to another case that we’re investigating.

MC: So we wanted to ask you whether you noticed if Qian Yi was acting unusually at any point.

Ji Xiaoyu: No need to explain. He’s dead anyways, and I don’t care why you’re investigating him.

Ji Xiaoyu: But you came for nothing.

Ji Xiaoyu: I did follow him for a few days, but didn’t notice anything unusual about him.

Ji Xiaoyu: Even if someone did kill him, they would have just been “enforcing justice for the heavens”.

 ⊳ Ji Xiaoqing

MC: Miss Ji, we… have a few questions about your sister Ji Xiaoqing…

Ji Xiaoyu: No need to be so hesitant. Go ahead and ask what you want.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, according to what we know, your sister found out about everything only when Bedo Loan Company seized your real estate.

Xia Yan: After, she was always low-spirited, and then ended up getting into an accident due to drunkenness.

Xia Yan: I’d like to ask you about the details when your sister found out about the trap loans.

Xia Yan: Did she make any unusual actions?

Ji Xiaoyu: Unusual? Under those circumstances, what sort of actions wouldn’t be unusual?

MC: …Could you tell us about where she was different from before then?

Ji Xiaoyu: My sister had always been a very hardworking, motivated person, both in work and life.

Ji Xiaoyu: The year my parents passed just happened to be the one where she was testing for university.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because of limited money and to take care of me, sister gave up on the famous university she’d set her heart on and went to a typical university.

Ji Xiaoyu: Without the halo of a famous school, she worked harder than anyone when it came to studying and work.

Ji Xiaoyu: A few months before Bedo Loan Company found my sister, she had just job-hopped to a very famous company.

Ji Xiaoyu: When Bedo Loan Company had just come knocking, sister still pretended to be lively as she went to work…

Ji Xiaoyu stopped for a moment.

Ji Xiaoyu: But when the police were investigating my sister’s cause of death, they found the people from her company. Only then did I find out…

Ji Xiaoyu: Those scoundrels knew that sister was working at a big company, so they often went to harass her, to make her hand her earnings to them…

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister refused, so those people handed out flyers insulting us at the company…

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister’s mistakes increased in frequency at the company. After, she resigned.

Xia Yan: But you just said that she would pretend to be lively at work? So she went out to…?

Ji Xiaoyu: I don’t know why sister pretended to go to work in the days after.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m guessing that she just didn’t want to see me at home and think of sorrowful things…

MC: Have you ever secretly followed your sister?

Ji Xiaoyu: … What right do I have to follow my sister?

Ji Xiaoyu: It makes perfect sense for her to want to avoid me, to have time and space to herself.

Ji Xiaoyu: I harmed her so much. Should I not even give her this bit of space?

MC: Miss Ji…

Ji Xiaoyu: But you’re also right. I should have followed my sister.

Ji Xiaoyu: If I watched over her more and worried over her, then at least, I could’ve brought her home after she got drunk, and she wouldn’t have gotten into an accident.

Ji Xiaoyu: But back then, I was only worried about my own sadness and shame. I never thought once for her.

 ⊳ Other people she’s interacted with

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, may I ask, has anyone found you after you told the police about the trap loan?

Ji Xiaoyu: After sister passed, I dropped out of school.

Ji Xiaoyu: After teachers at school found out, they came to see me a few times.

Ji Xiaoyu: The rest were a few reporters who came to interview me and take pictures for news.

Ji Xiaoyu: After attention on this matter subsided, no one else came.

 ⊳ Civil compensation

MC: Miss Ji, Bedo Loan Company will begin trial for a case soon.

MC: I read the case details – the real estate that your parents left behind were defrauded away by the company using a fake lawsuit.

MC: After the court comes out with a criminal case verdict on Bedo Loan company, I can help you file for civil litigation.

MC: This way, what your parents left, as well as your assets that were defrauded from you, can be taken back.

Ji Xiaoyu: No need. I don’t need compensation.

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s already pointless…

END QUESTIONING

 Ji Xiaoyu: Are there no other questions?

Ji Xiaoyu finished answering all of Xia Yan’s and my questions.

I originally thought that asking these would poke at her emotional wounds, but the whole time, her voice was expressionless, unusually indifferent.

Xia Yan and I locked eyes for a moment, seeing the same confusion and worry in each other’s eyes.

Xia Yan observed the items in the room again, looking at those two cardboard boxes near the door.

Xia Yan: The things in these boxes are…?

Though we could guess what was in it, Xia Yan still acted with caution, avoiding saying anything along the lines of “things left by the dead”.

Ji Xiaoyu: They’re my sister’s things.

Xia Yan: Can we take a look?

Ji Xiaoyu nodded slightly, then opened the cardboard box.

We first saw a journal with Ji Xiaoqing’s name on the cover.

Xia Yan flipped through the diary, giving it a few flip-throughs. The handwriting was beautiful and organized, and the contents focused on work and the comfortable times spent with her little sister.

Xia Yan: Your sister had a habit of writing in a diary, yet she didn’t write anything after finding out about the trap loan?

Ji Xiaoyu: She did. Several times, I saw her writing things in a black leather notebook.

Ji Xiaoyu: I don’t know what she wrote in there. Every time she saw me come over, she would immediately hide the notebook away.

Ji Xiaoyu: She probably wrote a lot about hating me…

Ji Xiaoyu: She clearly should’ve blown up at me, beat me, cursed me, and thrown me away so she could live in another city… but she still put on a strong face in front of me, every day.

Ji Xiaoyu: She also needed to vent, so I didn’t sneak any peeks.

MC: (Miss Ji…)

Xia Yan: Is that black leather notebook still around?

Ji Xiaoyu: I couldn’t find it. Maybe she tossed it away after she finished writing in it, or maybe it dropped somewhere on the day of the accident.

Just when Xia Yan and I were planning to look at some of Ji Xiaoqing’s other items, Ji Xiaoyu brought up a suggestion.

Ji Xiaoyu: You can take these boxes away and take your time going through them.

MC: Can we? These things…

Ji Xiaoyu: I’ll be preparing to bury my sister tomorrow, so I’m very busy. I need to rest right now, and I can’t wait for you.

Xia Yan: I understand – we’ll take these away for now, then. Don’t worry, we’ll examine them carefully and won’t break them.

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Ji Xiaoyu: I’d like to let you know that after my sister’s accident, the police also examined them. But they didn’t notice anything.

After hearing Ji Xiaoyu’s words, Xia Yan and I picked up the boxes with Ji Xiaoqing’s items and prepared to leave.

Ji Xiaoyu: Wait.

MC: Miss Ji, is there anything else you need?

Ji Xiaoyu: Why… why are you treating me like this!

Right when we were about to leave, Ji Xiaoyu suddenly became agitated.

MC: I’m so sorry, Miss Ji. If we have offended you in any way—

Ji Xiaoyu: Why aren’t you condemning me!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s because I got too greedy and wanted to buy something expensive that I borrowed the money! It’s all because I wasn’t cautious enough that I ended up in the trap loan!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s because I was a coward who was too scared to tell my sister or call the police that I kept sinking deeper!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s all because of me… that my parents’ house ended up being defrauded away and that my sister died…

Ji Xiaoyu: You asked me so much, but why didn’t you scold me…

Ji Xiaoyu: Why… did you speak to me so sympathetically… when I committed so many unforgivable mistakes…

MC: …

Xia Yan: …

For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure of how to respond.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, though this issue started because of you, you were not the one to cause all the misfortune.

Ji Xiaoyu: Have you not heard of the phrase, “flies don’t bite eggs without cracks”? Those who are pitiful must have a hateful side…

Xia Yan: But those who did evil are ultimately those “flies”.

Xia Yan: Whether pitiful or hateful, I have never thought that the focal point of a case should be whether the victim is perfect.

Xia Yan: You’ve already condemned yourself enough.

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Xia Yan: Even if you’ve already bought your sister’s resting place, don’t rush to do anything foolish.

Xia Yan: At least wait for our investigation to end.

Ji Xiaoyu: W-what do you mean?

Xia Yan: I feel like we might be able to find your sister’s black leather notebook.

Xia Yan: No matter how much you just pretended to not care, you must actually want to know what your sister was thinking and doing during that period of time.

Ji Xiaoyu was silent as tears rolled nonstop down her face.

Ji Xiaoyu: If you really find any clue that my sister left behind…

Ji Xiaoyu: No matter what it is… no matter how angrily she cursed… please tell it all to me.

Xia Yan: We will.

[pixiebuggiewrites]

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 2:  Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing

Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.

The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.

Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.

Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.

“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”

It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.

“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed

Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.

Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.

The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.

As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.

But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.

“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”  

Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.

Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.

Bingo!

Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.

Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.

“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.

From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.

----------

Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.

Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.

And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.

The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the  main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.

The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.

Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.

“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”

The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”

The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.

“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”

Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.

The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.

Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.

She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.

Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.

Good thing she wrote the message in code?

----------

Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.

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

Taglist (open!!): 

@queencommonsense

[spareseratoninplz]

More Than Pain Bakugo x Y/N reader insert Ch. 2

“Miss…? Excuse me, miss…?” I was gently shaken awake by a hand, and when I woke up a friendly looking gentleman was smiling down at me.

“You’re miss (L/N), right?” He asked, and I nodded.

“Yes… how is my mother?” I asked, my brow immediately furrowing. He placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from getting up, and took a seat across from me after pulling up a chair to sit on.

“Your mother is in stable condition… her case however… well, it’s uncertain.” He said, and my heart dropped.

“Case…? Uncertain…?” I echoed, and he cleared his throat.

“Your mother had a very serious seizure. Her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long, and this has caused her to slip into a coma. As I said, she’s in stable condition, but if she’s going to have any sort of chance of recovery, we’ll need to perform surgery…” He said the last few words very carefully, and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“H-How much…?” I asked, and he hesitated before sighing deeply.

“54,200,000 ¥…*” The doctor spoke, and I felt my mouth go dry.

“Your mother’s insurance will pay for her accommodations here at the hospital until the money for surgery can be raised… with any luck, then surgery won’t be necessary. And she’ll simply wake up. Still, there’s the topic of muscle atrophy, and getting her the physical and psychological therapy to recuperate afterwards…” His voice faded out as my brain grew numb with the same question. How in the world am I supposed to raise that much money? As a middle school student I’m not allowed to have any sort of part time job. Not only that, but how was I supposed to pay for rent, power, water, and food when I had absolutely no income whatsoever?

“Miss (L/N)?” The doctor called out my name, and I snapped out of my stupor.

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked, and after a moment of hesitation, he realized I hadn’t.

“There is a program- a temporary service if you will- one that will place you in the care of a foster home… at least for the time being.” I nodded quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the program’s coordinator.” He ushered me along, and I followed blindly, my eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

*One day later*

“Here we are! Oh, you are absolutely going to love this couple!” The coordinator opened the door for me to step out with nothing but my backpack on.

“Oh dear… are you certain that’s all you wanted to bring?” She asked.

“I don’t plan on being here for very long.” I said, walking passed her towards the front door. She followed me quickly, and rang the doorbell as I examined the outside structure of the house. It was rounded at the top with a subtle but elegant grey stone layout. The windows were large and somewhat tinted to reflect the incoming sunlight, and I couldn't help but think how clever that was of the designer to come up with. My attention was grabbed when the front door slowly opened to reveal a tall, muscular  man with spiky brown hair, glasses, and the slightest hint of  a mustache.

“Oh? Hey, you must be (F/N)! Mitsuki, she’s here!” He called behind him, and I could hear the sound of fast footsteps as she made her way to the front door, and nearly knocked the man over in the process.

“Who is it Masaru? Did you say (F/N)?” She asked. She poked her head out, and my eyes immediately focused on two distinctive features, her eyes and hair.

“(F/N)! It’s so good to meet you!” She exclaimed. Before I knew what was happening, she’d already pulled me inside.

“Katsuki! Come meet our guest!” She called out, and the moment she shouted that name, my blood ran cold.

“GO TO HELL!!!” He shouted back in response. Mitsuki only smiled at me briefly as the tension settled in the air. After a moment she turned to me with the same smile on her face.

“Wait right here dear, I’ll  be right back.” She spoke softly and gracefully ascended the stairs to what I could only assume was Katsuki’s room. There were a few light knocks on the door before it sounded like the ceiling was falling in.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT YOU LITTLE SHIT!” She screamed. She then proceeded to drag Bakugou down the stairs by his ear, much to his protest, and tossed him onto the floor in front of us. My eyes locked onto a coat rack in the corner near the door, and I didn’t dare tear my eyes away for a moment. He stood to his feet and swung around as though he were going to strike his own mother, but instead she smacked the back of his head, and he fell to his knees right in front of me. I jumped back, and accidentally met his eyes. If looks could kill, I’d already be dead.

“(F/N) Is going to be staying here for a little while, and I want you to be the one to show her to her room.” Mitsuki ordered, and Katsuki simply glared at me before sliding his hands into his pockets and walking back towards the stairs.

“You comin’ or not?!” He demanded, looking at me sideways as though I were supposed to read his mind. I glared back, unimpressed before following behind him up the stairs.

We took an immediate right, and he placed his foot against a door before roughly kicking it open and stepping inside. I followed him in, and took a look around. Everything was so neat, tidy, and fresh smelling. They had even changed the bed linens and had a fluffy black bathrobe neatly folded on the bed along with a set of clothes. What was this place? A hotel? “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demanded, and I glanced at him over my shoulder.

“Your parents didn’t tell you what’s going on?” I asked, and he scoffed.

“All they said was we’d have a guest for a couple months. They never said anything about it being some dumb bitch.” He said, expecting to get a rise out of me, but I remained quiet.

“I’ll stay out of your way.” I said, giving him a cold look that he seemed taken aback by.

“The hell’s your problem?” He asked, and I exhaled slowly through my nose before neatly placing my backpack on the back of a nearby chair.

“Why? So you can degrade me on that too?” I asked, my tone just as cold as my icy glare. For once he had nothing to say as he stood there with the same angry look on his face.

“I get that you don’t like me, and I’ll stay out of your way while I’m here, so, just go do… whatever.” I said, my tone bland as I turned to  start unpacking things from my bag. After a moment of silence I assumed he had just left, so when I heard the shuffling of feet, and suddenly found myself pinned up against the desk as his hands gripped the edges at my hips, trapping me in place. His body and face were both very close to mine, and radiating heat that I didn’t know could be generated from a human body.

“Listen here you, don’t come into my fucking house thinking you’re better than me just because you have some stupid-ass quirk, you got it?” He hissed, and my brow furrowed.

“What did I say to insinuate that I think I’m better than you?” I asked, pressing my hand against his chest to move him away, but he quickly caught my hand and gripped it tightly, maybe even painfully if pain was something I could feel.

“What was that shit you pulled the other day in the hallway, huh?” He asked.

“Let go of me.” I hissed, and he smirked in an almost challenging way.

“Make me.” He growled. I felt something swelling up within me. This anger that I wasn’t at all familiar with coupled with something else. I felt my body begin to shake, and I forcibly grabbed his wrist with the hand that he was holding me, and his eyes widened for a split moment before I flipped him onto his back. He grunted as I stood up and moved away from him, looking down at my own two hands as though they weren’t mine.

“Shit…” Bakugou cursed under his breath before sitting up, and rubbing at the back of his head. He shot me a bewildered look before standing straight up and marching over to me. He looked me over expectantly before clicking his tongue, and heading for the door. He froze just before walking through, and glanced back at me over his shoulder.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left… dinner’s at 5:30… and don’t touch any of my shit!” He spat before shutting the door behind him roughly. I sighed before shaking my head, and pulling my laptop from my bag. I settled in on the bed, and began surfing the web in hopes of winding down, and ignoring what had just happened with my quirk. I had never been able to use it that way before… then again, no one has ever made me feel so frustrated before either.

“Hm?” I hummed in thought as my eyes caught a glimpse of a flashy headliner. I clicked on the link as the webpage opened completely.

“UA RECOMMENDATION EXAM REPORTED TO BE REWARDING HIGHEST RANKING ENTRANT 55,300,000!”

All I could do was stare at the screen with my mouth hanging open, unable to think or speak. 

It seemed all too easy, enter the exam, pass with the highest score, and win the money that I would need to get mom the surgery she needed… an additional  1,152,320¥ never hurts either… I quickly began looking up anything and everything that I could about this exam, and found out quite a bit about it relatively quickly.

“Let’s see… consists of a written exam, practical exam, and an… interview…? Alright, no problem, but… what would I do about references? That would be the main thing I need, right?” I mumbled to myself and groaned before flopping backwards onto the bed.

I can’t believe I’m even playing with thoughts like these. To think I’d even stand a chance against anyone who’s recommended to UA? It may seem like easy money, but now that I think about it, there’s no way it would be that easy. There was suddenly a gentle knock at the door, and I quickly stood from the bed to answer it.

“Mrs. Bakugou, I’m sorry was I being too loud?” I asked, and she chuckled before waving me off, and shooting me a smile.

“Not at all dear! I just came up to check and see how you were getting settled.’ She said, and I nodded before giving her a thankful smile.

“Oh yes, I’m fine. You have a beautiful home.” I said, and she smiled even brighter.

“Aren’t you the sweetest, thank you!” She giggled before banging her fist once against the door directly behind her before shouting.

“YOU HEAR THAT, KID?! WHY CAN’T YOU BE SWEET LIKE HER?!” Mrs. Bakugou shouted.

“WOULD YOU SHUT IT, YOU OLD HAG?! I’M TRYIN’ TO STUDY!” Bakugou shouted back. So, his room was directly across from mine…? Good to know. I thought sarcastically.

“WHY YOU-” I cut her off before she had a chance to shout again. She looked as though she were about to break down his door.

“Bakugou is actually a pretty nice guy at school!” I blurted out before I could think. She froze, and turned to me with a skeptical look.

“That’s not what I’ve heard…” She said, her brow furrowing.

“What? No, really. He helped me to find my locker and the cafeteria on my first day of school, and he’s always willing to help out when I need a partner during study period.” I said. It wasn’t a complete lie. He had helped me find my locker and the cafeteria on the first day… he just wasn’t super polite about it. As for the study partner thing, really we had just been paired up together by the teacher, and did our own work silently.

“He may seem a little harsh at first, but Bakugou is someone who is really very dedicated to his goal of becoming a pro hero. I admire him for not being afraid to speak his mind about things… it’s a quality I wish I had.” I admitted, and I suddenly found myself wondering why I was suddenly singing Bakugou’s praises when I didn’t really know two things about the guy.

“You’re too sweet, (F/N)... by the way, you’re welcome to call me Mitsuki.” She offered, and I nodded politely. She turned towards Bakugou’s door again, and lifted her hand ready to bang on it once more, but after a moment her body seemed to relax as though she had second thoughts, and she lightly knocked instead.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour, hon.” She said gently. After a moment of silence, Bakugou responded. “Whatever…” His voice sounded tired almost, but it held no anger. Mitsuki smiled gently before giving me a small nod, and heading downstairs. Somehow I felt good about what I did, and turned to return to my room, only to be met by the sound of Bakugou’s door creaking open.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” He asked. I looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and a bored expression on his face. I shrugged before resting my elbow against the doorframe, and pushing my hair back out of my eyes.

“I don’t know… I guess maybe you just don’t hear it as much as you should.” I said. His eyes lowered to the floor as though he were considering something.

“Hear what?” He asked. I swallowed hard, knowing what it was I was wanting to say, but I wasn’t sure how he would react.

“You’re a good guy, Bakugou… and I know you’ve built this reputation as the school’s hot head or whatever, but… I can tell by how hard you work that you truly do want to be a hero… and I don’t think you’d want to be a hero if you didn’t like people.” I said, and he remained silent, now resting his head against the door frame, and looking off down the hall.

“You’re so full of shit.” He spat, somewhat taking me by surprise, but I didn’t let it show.

“The other day, you were telling me to ‘grow up’... saying shit like ‘you’re not very heroic’- such bullshit.” He hissed, and for some reason an unfamiliar sensation hit me directly in the center of my chest before spreading to the rest of my body.

‘Is this… pain…?’ I thought to myself. Without realizing, my hand had come up and grabbed my shirt directly over my chest. My breathing began to increase, and my skin began to feel warm and flush.

“What is it? Just now realizing I’ve called you out on your bullshit?” He asked, crossing his arms again and smirking in an unnerving way.

“What? No, that’s not-” My breathing only increased, but it felt like all the air in my lungs had left me. I felt my eyes begin to burn as tears began to slide down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“Wh- hey. What’s wrong with you?” He asked, and I felt my body begin to shake as sobs began to rack my body.

“Shit, hey-” He kneeled beside me, and I hid my face from him. I’d never felt this way before in my life. As though someone had lit a fire at the center of my chest, but the rest of my body remained cold as Ice. How is it even possible to be freezing, and yet sweat at the same time?

“Calm your breathing and relax.” He said, his voice lower, and I felt him rest his hand on my back awkwardly, not knowingly exactly where to put it. After a moment I seemed to calm down, but I was still in shock at what had just happened.

“Wh-what… what was that…?” I mumbled to myself.

“You just had a fucking panic attack.” Bakugou said, now sitting on the floor next to me, and resting his head back against the wall. I could feel him watching me carefully, and after a moment he sighed.

“Look I… I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think sayin’ that would… cause a panic attack alright? I always thought you didn’t have emotions.” He said.

“I… I usually don’t feel anything. Pain, anger, fear, sadness… I can absorb it back into my body, channel it and use the energy to heal myself or others…” I said, and suddenly realized I hadn’t ever really explained how my quirk worked before.

“So that’s what happened the other day? You didn’t block my attack, you absorbed it?” He asked, and I nodded.

“And that’s how you healed yourself?” He asked, and again I nodded.

“Yes… the stronger the quirk, the faster I heal.” I said, and he just stared ahead at the wall.

“Well… it’s not the shittiest quirk I’ve ever heard of.” He said, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. We sat in silence for a bit longer before I spoke again.

“I need to get into UA on recommendation.” I said, and his entire body stiffened.

“WH- THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!” He demanded, and I sighed.

“It’s not what you think okay, so don’t blow a fuse.” I said. I passed him my phone with the headline on it, and his eyes quickly skimmed over it.

“Yeah, I heard about that… so then what’s the deal? I thought you weren’t tryin’ to be a hero.” He said, and I ignored the fact that he knew that about me, and took my phone back from him.

“I… I just need the money, alright?” I admitted. I pulled my knees to my chest before resting my arms on top, and then my chin.

“What do you need with a shit-ton of cash like that?” He asked, and I laughed humorlessly. He didn’t respond after a moment of silence, so I sighed, and felt my brow furrow.

“Katsuki, (F/N) dinner’s ready!” Mitsuki called.

“HOLD YOUR HORSES WE’RE COMIN’!” Bakugou shouted back, but I was already standing.

“We should go eat. School in the morning.” I said, and he looked up at me with a stoic expression before standing himself and walking towards the stairs. I walked past him at the top of the stairs, and he grabbed my arm to stop me before I could continue.

“We’re not done yet.” He said, holding my gaze for several moments before turning away, and descending the stairs. I lightly brushed my fingers across my arm where he’d grabbed me, and felt an odd tingling sensation where his hand had been.

“I’m losing my mind…” I mumbled to myself before descending the stairs, and stepping into the dining room.

“Here you go (F/N) I’ve saved you a spot right next to Katsuki.” Mr. Bakugou said whilst drying his hands on a kitchen towel as Mrs. Bakugou finished placing the final plate of food on the table. I nodded silently before taking the seat I had been offered.

“The coordinator gave us a list with some of your favorites, so I made you some kakitama jiru!*” She exclaimed, very pleased with herself.

“It looks great, thank you Mrs. Bakugou.” I said, smiling kindly as I spooned it into a bowl along with some crispy noodles and a spoonful of green onions on top. The aroma was intoxicating, and I felt myself relax somewhat at the familiar smell.

“Would you like some Beef?” Mr. Bakugou offered, holding the plate out to me. I nodded before plucking a few pieces out, and placing them neatly on my plate before adding some steamed veggies and rice. Everything looked and smelled amazing. I couldn’t recall eating in the last few days, so this was more than welcomed.

“Have you had any news on your mother?” Mrs. Bakugou asked, and I felt the color immediately drain from my face. Any appetite I previously had was gone now. I lowered my chopsticks from my mouth before I could take a bite of food, and felt my hand shake slightly.

“Oh… uh… no ma’am. Nothing yet.” I said plainly, hoping she would just drop it.

“Oh… well, I’m very sorry to hear about what happened. We really hope she gets out of the hospital soon.” She said, and I felt my eyes drop to the table, suddenly intently focused on the pattern of the tablecloth, and nothing else. I wanted everything to fade away, and be silent. I wanted to be by myself where no one could see me like this because it was all new to me as well.

“Um… th-thanks…” I silently cursed myself for stuttering. They probably couldn’t tell I was uncomfortable since my body language wasn’t showing it. Would it be disrespectful to tell them that I was uncomfortable?

“Hey, we’re gonna eat upstairs.” Katsuki spoke up suddenly, his voice breaking through the haze of my hectic thought process.

“Huh? But you’ve already sat down.” Mrs. Bakugo said, dejected.

“I’ve been havin’ some trouble with English lately… she said she’d tutor me, so…” He lied, but I kept my mouth shut. Mrs. Bakugou looked utterly dumbfounded, but quickly smiled.

“Oh, of course!” She said gleefully. Katsuki grabbed his bowl, and I grabbed mine. I said my goodbyes as we ascended the stairs once more, and he all but forced me into my room. I placed the bowl down, and took a few deep breaths.

“Shit…” I mumbled to myself once my breath had come back.

“What’s going on with you? Why do you keep freaking out?” Bakugou scoffed, and I swallowed hard.

“Look, I’m not used to feeling emotions like this, okay?” I said, a bit more anger behind my tone than I had probably intended.

“Turn your shitty quirk back on then…” He said, as though it were the easiest thing.

“I… I can’t… I don’t know why but for some reason, I can’t.” I said, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“What you said before… when you said I’m ‘full of shit’... I don’t know how, or why, but for some reason or other, it caused my quirk to dissipate. That’s why I freaked out.” I said.

“So… you turn off your quirk, and you have a panic attack, or what the hell?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“No, no… look, I’ve had my emotions shut off since I was a child… sometimes they slip out, but I’ve always been able to keep them under control until a little while ago. At that time, I dunno…” I trailed off, taking a few breaths before continuing.

“I guess all the emotions that I’ve been holding back hit me at once.” I concluded, and Bakugou continued to sit there in silence.

“Why turn them off?” He asked, and the question caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked.

“Your emotions. Why turn them off?” He asked again, slightly annoyed this time at having to repeat himself.

“Oh… I dunno. It just seemed easier I guess.” I answered honestly. After a moment Katsuki stood with his bowl in hand, and headed for the door.

“Whatever… I’m goin’ back to my room.” He said, and something made me ask. “Bakugou…?” I called out, and he stopped to turn and look back at me.

“How did you know I was having a panic attack… I mean- how did you know how to handle it?” I asked, and his eyes widened momentarily before his brow creased in its usual pissed off manner.

“What the hell kinda question is that, dumbass!” He huffed before throwing the door open and storming out before shutting it behind him. I blinked a few times before sighing and shaking my head. I’ll never understand how this guy’s brain works… but maybe that’s for the best. I sat at the desk with the bowl of soup in front of me, and sighed as I picked at it with my chopsticks. The noodles were mush at this point, and the broth was surely cold. I pushed the bowl away, and stepped towards the bed. After moving my laptop and the clothes aside, I curled myself up on the comforter with my head resting against the plush pillow, and felt my eyelids growing heavier by the second. After a few deep breaths, I felt my body relax into the mattress, and sleep finally found me.